#i was gonna text her something earlier but decided against it cause like...she's not gonna respond so what's the point u know.. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

charmante-mp3 · 4 months ago

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don't worry babe

-- Day 12; Against a Wall (Kang Yeosang x Fem!Reader)

Kinktober ML Main ML Warnings; Oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex (NO NO), Yeosang's kind of rough, small breeding kink (maybe?). A/n: I'm not gonna lie this took me months- 2k

After one of many of the infamous Ateez parties, something shifted in the air with Y/N and the group. Specifically Yeosang, they all knew something happened between the two. Neither of them had interacted with each other within the past week.

“So are we gonna talk about the fact that Yeosang and Y/n haven’t been seen together at all this week?” Mingi asked the group, minus the two he just mentioned. Silence filled the room, none had any clue but took notice of it just as much. Minus Wooyoung’s loud conspiracy.

“D’you think they finally fucked?”

“Wooyoung what the fuck?” That was unexpected.

“Oh… Hey Sangie!” At Yeosang’s sudden entrance, Wooyoung dipped out behind the group.

“What’s up with you and Y/n?” Yunho asked, trying to save the almost fuming Yeosang.

“Nothing,” The group started to assume it was an argument, the turmoil in Yeosang’s eyes only fueled that assumption.

“Alright everyone back to their own business, come on we’ve got a busy day,” Hongjoong pushed everyone along except Seonghwa and Yeosang. The leader threw a look at the eldest member before following the crowd.

“What really happened, Yeosang?” Seonghwa asked this time, in a more calm and sincere tone rather than Yunho’s picking. The younger male sat in silence with himself, deciding to just tell him.

“I told her,”

In the back of the house, away from all the bodies, music, alcohol, and socialization, Y/n and Yeosang sat in a room together. Laughing at the recent antics of their group.

“Wooyoung is so blunt, and for what?” Y/n complained, earlier today Wooyoung had told her to change cause ‘blue didn’t go with her hairstyle’ or something. Yeosang was so dazed he could barely understand the woman next to him. He just liked listening to the sound of her voice, she didn’t have to know how hard it made him when she whined a little too much. That exact thought is what brought Yeosang back from his cloud nine. How could he think that about his best friend?

“Are you listening?” Yeosang’s head snapped over to the woman, eyes wide and face flushed.

“What’s on your mind Sangie?” She teased. With alcohol buzzing in both of their systems, Yeosang said something he hasn’t stopped thinking about.

“Just wondering when you’ll be mine,” Y/n froze at those words. ‘Oh shit,’ was the only thing Yeosang could think of the next morning he woke up. Frankly, he didn’t know what happened after the confession. All he knows you completely ghosted him and now here he is in the Ateez house with Seonghwa.

“You haven’t texted her?” Seonghwa asked, it’s not like the group hadn’t noticed you two getting closer than just ‘friends’. Wooyoung didn’t say such an absurd sentence without reason.

“I mean she hasn’t texted me,” Yeosang said, albeit quietly.

“Then just text her, the worst she can do is read it,” And with that Seonghwa also took his leave. Hongjoong was right, everyone had a busy day but this was a lazy day for Yeosang. His phone stayed in his hand for a ridiculous amount of time before sending a quick text to Y/n.

“Can we talk, really Yeosang?” A wide eyed Yeosang was met with a dressed up Y/n. He was propped on his bed when she walked into his room, having been here countless times.

“Is there a party tonight?” He asked, taking in her outfit and forgetting all about what he needed to say.

“Yes? Is this why I haven’t heard from you all week? Do you know what day it is?” Yeosang checked his phone, Saturday exactly a week from the night he blurted out nonsense.

“You have fifteen minutes till it starts,” Y/n deadpanned at him, noise slowly started to overcome the house. With that Yeosang popped up, slipping on a shirt and walking out with his arm slung around her. A natural habit he picked up every time she’d pop into his room before a party like this would start.

“Nope, no alcohol for you until you explain your babbles last week,” She pushed the red solo cup away from him, and the habits Yeosang developed withered away and his touch fell from hers.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He sounded unsure about himself. Suddenly, Y/n grabbed his wrist, pulling him towards the closest room which happened to be Hongjoong’s at home music studio.

“What did you say?” She asked him.

“I’m pretty sure it was just drunk babbling,” His voice trailed off, he could see a glint of sadness behind them. Unsure of what he had done, Yeosang kept his mouth shut. For once in their lives, uncomfortable silence clouded over the two. Y/n would’ve left at this realization, the confession Yeosang spilled to her last week had no meaning, but he was blocking the door.

“I don’t remember what I said, but I’m pretty sure I know what I wanted to say,” Yeosang had made up his mind, he’d have to clear up everything and make sure he told her sober.

“I’ve been in love with you since freshman year,” Two years he’s waited to say that, two years since they met at the first college party of their freshman year. Now, they were juniors each majoring in their own field of arts.

“And the part about splitting me open if you could?” Yeosang’s legs almost gave out, along with his breath.

“I said what?” The taller male spluttered out, he would never be able to drink again. His heart pounded in his chest at this realization, but a rising smirk from the woman caused a stir in his stomach.

“You told me how much you’d love to see me fall apart under you. Wanted to see how well I could take your dick,” She listed off every drunken confession that left his lips that night, each one growing lewder. Yet, with each admission she took small steps closer to the male.

“I think maybe you’re overexaggerating-” Yeosang was stopped by a thumb on his lips.

“You’re not even gonna let me tell you my favorite one?” Her thumb was now toying with his bottom lip. Rubbing her nails over the soft flesh before she spoke again.

“You said you wanted to see me squirt all over your dick? Do you remember Yeosang?” She looked up at him through her eye lashes, so innocently.

“What do you say Yeosang, will you let me?” That question took Yeosang off guard.

“What do you mean?” He asked the woman as she pushed closer to him, her plump chest now pressed against his.

“I want you to fuck me, Yeosang,” His face exploded red but he could feel the growing ache in his pants, getting tighter and tighter as the realization set in.

“Was that too much?” A timid voice broke him out of disbelief, but his actions spoke louder than words. Yeosang was quick to move, pulling her towards him before slotting his lips on hers. His hands found solace on each side of her face as the kiss proceeded to get deeper. He ran his tongue across her bottom lip, asking for more access to her mouth. He started to push her further in the room until they paused.

“Where’s Hongjoong’s couch?” Yeosang asked, knowing there was usually a couch in the studio, even his chair was gone. Y/n’s mood almost soured as she thought the moment was ruined, her hands still wrapped around his neck. In a split second, Yeosang grabbed her face.

“Jump,” His voice was raspy and deeper than normal, almost sounding like a growl. Y/n hesitated wondering if that was even possible, Yeosang was usually a patient person but, right now his patience was gone.

“Tell me you still want this,” He whispered to her. The woman nodded her head.

“I need words love,”

“Please Yeosang,” Instantly Yeosang bent down. His arms wrapped around her legs just under the butt before lifting her and pressing her against the wall. He spread her legs wrapping them around his waist and his lips made their way to hers once again. As Yeosang held her up, Y/n’s hands unwrapped from his neck and traveled them down to the belt wrapped around his waist. She pulled it apart, the buttons on his jeans being the next target.

“I’m gonna put you down for a second, but you’re going back up against the wall,” Yeosang spoke as he pulled away from her. Softly he let her down, before beginning to undress himself and Y/n did the same. Soon she was pushed back against the wall, Yeosangs’ shaft now pressed against her cunt soaking it with her juices. Unexpectedly, Yeosang had pushed her higher up the wall, his face now inches away from her cunt. His mouth sucked at her clit before shoving his tongue in her hold, gathering the slick. At this action, Y/n’s head fell against the wall experiencing a pleasure she’s never quite felt before. His tongue slipped out as his mouth went back to her clit, this went on a few more times before Y/n felt that familiar coil in her stomach.

“Yeosang,” Her voice wavered as her words mixed with moans.

“I’m close,” She heard the man growl setting off her orgasm, she spasmed her whole body shaking. He slowly sat down the woman, her legs shaking as she struggled to stand. It didn’t last long as Yeosang had spun her around, lightly pushing her head against the soundproof wall. Two fingers had made their way into her pussy stretching it ever so slightly, he tested a third and as it slipped in he ripped them out. Y/n whined at the loss of his hand, but something had proded at her hole once more and she pushed herself back. Yeosang slowly pushed himself into her, seething at the sensation. He stilled, trying to let the woman adjust but as she pushed further into him Yeosang lost control. He pulled out before slamming back in, ripping a loud high pitched moan from her. Proceeding to find the perfect angle and once he did, Y/n got louder with each thrust. She tried to grasp the wall but the panel wasn’t helping. Yeosang could feel the constant fluttering of her pussy, her walls sucking him in as quiet moans left his mouth. Y/n couldn’t even warn the man before she came for the second time that night. Once Yeosang realized she was coming undone, he pulled away from her before shoving his hands back into her cunt. He curled his hands against her gummy walls, Y/n experiencing the first sense of overstimulation. His other hand wrapped around her and his fingers found her clit, rubbing the small bundle of nerves in circular motion. Y/n tensed as she once again felt a sensation never felt before, her mind went blank as she came for a third time. Unknowingly, the woman had soaked Yeosang and Hongjoong’s floor.

Yeosang still wasn’t done, once she came back to her senses the man shoved himself back into her cunt. His thrust was slower this time, trying not to overwhelm her too much.

“Fuck!” Without warning Yeosang came as she had her fourth orgasm of the night. As he pulled out, a mixture of their cum spilled down her legs and Yeosang almost got hard once again. He dressed the woman as she calmed down after luckily finding tissues to clean her up. Once they were both dressed again, Yeosang sat on the floor with the girl as her legs gained feeling, and then a banging knock sounded on the door.

“You did not just fuck in my studio!” Hongjoong’s voice echoed from the door and they noticed the music no longer playing. Yeosang and Y/n looked at each other, eyes wide.

“So what lie are we coming up with?” Y/n asked the man.

“I don’t know if we're getting out of this one babe.”

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reveworld · 2 years ago

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Hello! Can I request a IdolNiki x Idolreader were shes a member of newjeans but stands out because she is more boyish, and one they they mc together and fans directly notice the connection they have and she gets a lot of hate but then Niki himself post on Weverse and protects her and kinda reveals that they are actually together? I think this would be hella funny, so yeah have a great day bye!

Of Course!!

My Dearest

idol!niki x idol!reader

warnings: You get hate for having a “masculine” look

“Y/n!” your manager called out. “Hm?” You questioned. “Would you like to be a guest mc on music bank?” You smiled and replied “sure! When?” Your manager looked you in the eye, “In 5 hours.” You jumped up, “Why didn’t you ask me earlier,” She gave you a sweet smile and said, “C’mon; Let’s get going.” You grabbed your bag and ran after her.

When you got to the KBS building you saw that your boyfriend was also there. “Y/n!” he called out. “Hey Niki,” you smiled at him. The two of you met up in the hallway and hugged each other, not minding the staff following you. “I didn’t know you were gonna be here!” The tall boy said, looking directly into your eye and smiling. Because of your conflicting schedules it had been a bit since you’ve seen him in person.

“Ok you two,” his manager spoke. “Cmon, you need to get ready.” The two of you looked back into each others eyes and laughed before walking into your own dressing rooms. “I had them prepare something that suits you for todays outfit!” your manager spoke proudly. “Thank you,” you laughed.

After you’d finished getting dressed you walked out from behind the curtain and over to the makeup chair. You picked up your phone, opening Weverse to talk to Bunnies.

You uploaded a selca with the caption “Soon ❤️”. You smiles as comments questioning what the caption meant start flooding in. After replying to some comments, you get a text from Niki saying, “Cute selca.” you reply with the blushing emoji. You can practically hear his laugh as he replies with a “haha”.

Next thing you know, Niki and yourself were practicing for the interview section. He kept messing you up by making faces and so you decided to mess with him in return, causing the director to give you a 5 minute break. The two of you go and sit against a wall. “I cannot stand you sometimes,” you tell him with a laugh. “Aw, I love you too!” he responds. “Wait,” he says pulling out his phone. “Let’s take a picture.” You look at him and nod as he snaps a few pictures of you looking at him without you knowing. The break was over and the director was calling you back for the final take, the real interview.

“Hello everyone! We are today’s Mubank guests..” the two of you say in sync. “Ni-ki,” “and Y/n!” The interview goes smoothly other than the many looks you give each other. Your manager watches mentally face palming herself for taking this opportunity. After it ended, it was time for you and the other New Jeans girls to preform “OMG”.

The performance went over well and would’ve been done in one take if not for Hanni’s shoe falling off. You picked up you phone to see a text from Niki saying “Just ignore them dear.” You raised you eyebrow in confusion and opened twitter.

“Y/nki” was trending. ‘Oh God..’ was all you could think. Clicking on the tab, there were hundreds of comments saying stuff like, “Ni-ki shouldn’t like her, he’s so much better.” and “She’s probably forcing himself on her, he would never like a fake girl.” You couldn’t help but feel hurt, ignoring what Niki had texted you.

He kept sending reassuring texts but you chose to ignore them. You tried not to cry as the girls we having fun in the car ride home. When you got home, there was a surprise waiting in your room. None other than Riki Nishimura himself. He smiled at you and walked over to hug you.

With the comfort of the hug and the hate you’ve been getting, you started to cry. He gently scratched your back and carried you over to your bed, laying you down and then laying down next to you. He just held you and never let go, after a while you felt yourself start to feel tired. After a minute of your eyelids feeling heavy, you fell asleep in his arms. He smiled to himself, whispered an I love you, and kissed your forehead.

The next morning you were in your bed alone. You sighed already missing your boyfriend, but knowing he has a busy schedule you forced yourself to cheer up a bit. You opened your phone to your friends texting you, telling you to open Enhypen’s Weverse. You were rightfully confused but did it anyways. You saw a post:

🌟 니키 : My dearest. With the picture he took of the two of you sitting by the wall, you staring at him with stars in your eyes and him smiling.

Of course fans went crazy, both Bunnies and Engenes. You smiled texted the boy a simple, “I love you.” and went on with your day.

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☆ authors note:: i’m sorry if this isn’t what you had in mind, i tried my best 😭😭. Have a wonderful day/night/afternoon ❤️❤️❤️❤️

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howyoutalktostrangers · 7 months ago

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So,

The swirling mist on the surface of Kootenay Lake curled up into the white sky, like a tumbling waterfall in reverse.

It was early afternoon in late November 2017 and my leg bounced anxiously against the passenger side door while I watched, red-eyed, from behind fogged glass. Ghostly apparitions ascended skyward then plummeted back down, an intricate and tragic pantomime intended for my eyes only. I’d driven this route countless times in the past few years, the serpentine route from Nelson to Kalso, but I was usually the driver.

Oh-oh, the voices sang, I’m a rebel just for kicks now. Gonna kick it like it’s 1986 now.

At the cops’ insistence my roommate Bree was at the wheel of my RAV — I’d lost my driving privileges after a series of manic shenanigans — as we rounded the last few bends toward the Balfour ferry terminal. We were en route to the Cranbrook Airport, a few hours away, so that I could flee home to my parents’ house on the coast after an embarrassingly public mental breakdown.

Bree blew a strand of fire engine red out of her face, quietly focused on her task, while light rain guzzled down the windshield. I could hear the stress in her breathing. She sounded like Tony Soprano.

In the past few days, things had spiralled out of my control. My brain space was a dumpster fire of shame, fury, and manic self-righteousness. I was dressed in uniform bouncer black, with a slick grey tie tucked into a form-fitting vest and a toque pulled low over my bleary eyes. I’m dressing up for my breakdown, that’s what I kept telling myself, finishing the look with a pair of neon pink gas station sunglasses.

In the previous month I’d lost first my job, then my mind, and now I was losing my home. The whole trifecta. I wanted to handle the continuing descent with a modicum of dignity, but social media was my one final finger-hold. After spending a week jogging panting laps between the hospital and the police department, dumping my drama on whoever would listen, I’d successfully found a way to speak out and do real damage.

Gloves off, motherfuckers, I typed into Twitter. Omar’s coming!

As a journalist I’d been writing to an audience of 10,000 people twice a week for nearly four years now, becoming something of a mini-celebrity in the tiny mountain town of Nelson, B.C. I was the school board and arts reporter, but also covered a variety of breaking news stories — robberies, forest fires, mental health crises. But about a month earlier, during a routine Wednesday lunch hour, my publisher Aaron had summoned me to his office along with my editor Ed. He didn’t even ask us to sit down before informing me that I was being let going without cause, and saying that perhaps we would get the chance to work together again one day.

Let go without cause.

I’d been prepared for this moment, had felt it coming, and had he fired me the traditional way I would’ve been prepared with an arsenal of arguments for why it was a wrong-minded, short-sighted, bullshit decision. But this was a blindside I hadn’t expected, like being dumped via text. It gave no room for dialogue, for human interaction – it was like being expelled from a machine. Exiled, excommunicated, excised.

Really, it was a cleverly disguised lie. There was a cause, but they just didn’t want the liability and rigmarole that came with admitting that.

They’re all complicit, I decided. The whole Nelson community collaborating on my downfall. After spending weeks therapy-painting in my living room, smoking pot and nursing my rage along to YouTube videos played on repeat, I’d come up with an emotionally satisfying counter-narrative to the one Aaron had offered: my publisher had shut me down to stop publication of two politically sensitive stories, a testimony from two sexual assault survivors and a feature about a recent high school graduate who had died of a fentanyl overdose.

After three and a half years of reporting on parades, fundraisers, and city council meetings, I’d finally found two stories with teeth, stories that mattered, and that’s why I needed to be silenced. It just wasn’t what the public wanted from their local paper. They wanted the same comfortable stories, told the same way, year after year — not to be brought face to face with the community’s sins, with its toxic subculture. With its evil.

Let go without cause. It had to mean something more than the literal words suggested; it was like a unsolvable mind-puzzle, custom-designed to torment me. By reframing the situation in my mind, though, I’d recast myself as a tragic hero instead of a meddling stoner dip-shit in the thick of a psychotic break. If this was an episode of The Wire, then I was Omar — Baltimore’s Robin Hood, the only one brave enough to speak the truth undiluted. As the mania took hold, I felt a raw power burbling inside of me. Like a spirit that had been waiting to be unleashed. I was the real Slim Shady, I was Tyler Durden, I was Jaime fucken Lannister.

You help me lose my mind, the voices sang. And you bring me something I can’t define.

Once we arrived at the loading lanes, Bree maneuvered us past some parked police cars sitting idle in the afternoon drizzle. I perked up, scanning the rest of the terminal like an attack dog. I was living in a perpetual present, with no past or future, and every moment felt drenched with significance. I hadn’t slept in nearly three days, but somehow I was still trembling with energy.

“What’s going on?” I asked her, wondering momentarily if I was their target. I swept my head to the left, to the right. “Look at all these cops cars everywhere.”

“They don’t have their lights on.”

“Holy shit, there’s what? Like four? They’re parked down both sides of the causeway.”

“There’s one over there too.”

Earlier that morning we’d woken up to a light snowfall, and from the second floor window I could see that the police had returned my vehicle — I’d left it parked diagonally in their lot before charging in to see the Police Chief Paul Burkart the day before. I called down to the station to ask for my keys, and a few minutes later stood in the street talking with one of the constables about everything that had gone down over the previous few days. My social media landscape was scorched earth, with all the people pissed at my incendiary Facebook posts and volatile Twitter threads.

I have to stay high all the time to keep you off my mind, the voices sang.

Burkart reassured me that people in Nelson understood what I was going through and would empathize despite my demented vitriol. He wished me luck while snowflakes fell, and shook my hand. I’d never felt so embarrassed. Losing your mind is humiliating.

“Your job now is to take care of yourself. You’re going to be just fine,” he said.

As seagulls shrieked overhead, I wrenched open my passenger door to figure out what was going on at the ferry terminal. I counted at least five cruisers strategically flanking both the loading and unloading lanes, and a trio of uniformed cops standing at water’s edge. I felt like I was in the movie Heat, right before Val Kilmer and Robert De Niro open fire with their machine guns. Something was about to go down, something exciting, and I wanted to be the one to capture it — like Michael Mann, one of my favourite directors. I stretched out my arms and did a few CrossFit stretches, my head wobbling as I pushed away sleep. I needed another joint, or a coffee, or maybe a slap in the face. I felt like a time traveler, like I’d come back from some far away future just so I could live this moment.

But why?

As I worked my way through the rows of cars, I spotted Cst. Lisa Schmidtke locking her driver’s door, looking hurried and tense. She was one of the officers who traveled around the district to teach students how to hide during a school shooting — I’d taken her photo for a story months earlier. As it turned out, she was also looking to connect with me about a drunk driver I’d reported over the weekend. After nearly getting into an accident with him outside the bar, during my break, I’d actually run into him a second time in the hospital the next day. He was strapped to a gurney outside the room where I was being interviewed by a pair of nurses trying to figure out whether they should commit me or not.

I didn’t know his name, so I just called him Face Tattoo.

“Lisa, hey,” I said, sauntering over. “I hear you want to talk to me?”

Schmidtke gave her key a quick tug, then pivoted towards me. She had an assault rifle slung diagonal across her chest, and was gazing past me to the ferry that was just entering the terminal. Her brow line wrinkled.

“Not now, Will. We have to get this guy into custody.”

What guy?

I didn’t get a chance to respond before she went jogging along the line of vehicles, her gun wagging like a taunting black finger. This is not your job, it’s ours. That’s what Burkart had told me, when I came crashing into his office to tell him all the secret intel I’d compiled since Aaron let me go without cause. I had a list of 25 names, people I could take off the street for good with my testimony, but he hadn’t taken me seriously. None of them had. Everyone was complicit and I was the only one who could see the truth through all the lies.

If Nelson was Eden, then this was the Fall. Was nobody paying attention?

It seemed like every day a new crowd was rushing the streets on social media, down in the U.S., chanting in unison: Black Lives Matter! Black Lives Matter! Black Lives Matter! The mass shootings in the States were relentless too, all while Trump continued to rampage his way through the White House. Lately he was playing international chicken with Kim-Jong Un, boasting about the size of the nuclear bomb button on his desk.

I felt like I was living in a burning building.

“What’s happening?” Bree asked as I sauntered back to the car, the hood of my winter jacket up around my face. She was leaning out of the driver’s side door, and I stopped there to fill her in. I told her everything felt like it was happening all at once, like I had tiny planets orbiting my head like bees, and I just needed a moment to pull myself together. I took a long breath and closed my eyes.

All I was needed was one calm moment, and here it was. I had something specific to fixate on, learn more about. I was on the front-lines again, reporting from the thick of the action, except now I didn’t have an editor, which meant no censorship either. I was like McNulty from The Wire, a principled but preposterous Baltimore detective known for his heavy drinking, insubordination, and unwillingness to play by the rules. In the fifth season he invented a serial killer to dupe the police department into funnelling city funds in a new direction. I was rocking his energy, making shit up as I went along.

I’d lived my whole life to become this guy, right here and right now, this goon.

“You stay here,” I told Bree, turning my face toward the rain. “I’m going to find out.”

“Don’t go too far away. They’re going to be loading soon.”

“I won’t be long.”

As I approached the shoreline, I spotted some cops I recognized from CrossFit. I stood just barely within earshot, pretending to contemplate the horizon as they gossiped. It was a gorgeous day, heaven peeking through the dissipating clouds. The rain had taken a breather, and gentle wind kissed my face.

“He’s in the fourth car, middle lane,” one of them said, pointing at the ferry. It groaned and buzzed and clanged as it came to a stop. The cops were gathering together, excitedly bouncing on their feet. One of them was doing hamstring stretches. It was like they were getting ready for a track meet. I’d always admired the police in the Kootenays, and it felt almost cinematic to finally see them in action.

Earlier that year I’d written a magazine feature for a magazine called Maisonneuve about how they’d successfully arrested a bank robber named Andrew Stevenson back in 2014. I trusted them, and they trusted me to tell their stories — even though the Star was also their department’s most persistent critic. As they fanned out around the cars in formation, some of them with guns drawn, I held my breath. For a moment I wasn’t thinking about my own bullshit, I was just wondering who this guy was and what he’d done.

Then I saw him. Two cops were frog-marching this sketch case down the line of the cars, roughly forcing him down the gangplank, and I took a quick visual inventory: early 30s, he was scrawny, with a puckered mean expression and a punk rock bleach job. It wasn’t until I spotted the prison tattoo by his left eye that I confirmed who it was: the dirtbag I’d reported from the bar and the hospital, the one I was supposed to talk to Schmidtke about. Here he was, right in front of me again. Insane coincidences seems to happen all the time in Nelson, but I still couldn’t believe it. The universe had hand-delivered this guy into my presence for the third time in three days.

It was like our souls were entangled, our trajectories caught up together somehow, but he was en route to jail and I was headed for sanctuary at my parents’ house. Chaotic images swirled. What was the difference between him in handcuffs and me, standing here free?

“That’s him!” I shrieked, before I had a chance to stop myself. “That’s the fucking drunk driver I caught the other night! That’s him.”

I could see in the cops’ faces: oh, shit.

“That’s right, fucker!” I yelled, running out from between the parked cars. “Enjoy prison, fuck face! You could’ve killed somebody.”

The dude’s hateful eyes swung my way. He had meth head energy. Sneering, he thrust out his chest with a toothy smile.

“Fuck you, fatty,” he said. “Come at me.”

By this point I was waving my arms, jogging across the concrete, but I pulled myself together just shy of actually tackling the guy. My chest heaved as they forced him swearing and kicking into the backseat of their cruiser. I was like an angry hobbit trying its best to be intimidating but looking ridiculous instead. I could feel my shoulders getting damp, and I struggled to catch my breath as my pulse throbbed rhythmically in my neck.

“Get back,” the cops said. “Or we’ll arrest you for obstruction.”

That shut me up for a moment, but right away I knew what to do: call Greg Nesteroff. Dude was my former editor and absolute hero, working at a local radio station, and like me he had a justice boner for holding assholes accountable. During our time sharing a newsroom he’d nailed a man charged with possessing child pornography and had written a fiery editorial calling out a local police officer for punching a woman during an arrest. He’d also stood up for me through a number of work altercations I had with management. Quickly dialling his number, I paced by the car, and I tried to remember the drunk driver’s name from the other night. It was right there, like I could almost say it out loud, but my memory was too messy. As soon as Greg answered I made sure to talk as loudly as I could so both the cops and the guy in custody knew exactly what I was doing.

“I’ve got the radio on the line,” I told one of the cops. “What’s this guy’s name?”

“We can’t tell you that. Privacy.”

“Greg, they got the drunk driver from the other night, from Tony’s Taphouse. They just arrested him in front of everybody, out here at the Balfour ferry. I’m right here, I just watched it happen, right in front of me. I recognized his face tattoo.”

“Sorry, slow down,” Greg said, his voice measured and calm — just liked he sounded on the radio. “What happened, exactly?”

Once I’d filled him in, I clicked my phone off and made my way back to Bree. I was feeling all kinds of uncomfortable emotions, unsure of how to bring myself down, and I squeezed out hot tears as I rocked in the passenger seat. The cars were beginning to start their engines around us, and I could see the extra cruisers begin to pull away now that they’d made their arrest.

I’ve got guns in my head and they won’t go, the voices sang. Spirits in my head and they won’t go.

I pulled out my phone and began to scroll through Twitter again, seeing if any of my grenades had found purchase. I stabbed at the screen, retweeting and commenting and engaging with whatever conversation floated up to my face. The Nelson community wanted me silenced, wanted me gone, but I wasn’t going to be a good little boy.

This isn’t fair, I wrote. You fire me in the middle of a fucking fentanyl crisis?

I tagged anyone I thought might be able to intervene on my behalf, though I had no idea what that would look like, as the cars began to load. Bree maneuvered the RAV into place while I sat in the passenger seat in attack mode, calling out people I had a problem with. I felt like Tyler Durden standing in the middle of Baker Street, my shirt ripped open, begging for somebody to punch me.

That’s when my editor from Maisonneuve reached out through a direct message. She was in the hospital on the verge of going into labour but took the time to tell me I should stop posting online. Another writer told me “you’re in no state to be giving interviews” and encouraged me to get off social media. I sent her a thankful emoticon and signed out.

“I’m going to pace around the deck,” I told Bree, once the ferry was moving. “I need to clear my head.”

Kootenay Lake was gorgeous, glass-like, as I walked around the perimeter. Everything was calm except for me. I chatted with a truck driver for a few minutes, then pulled up my hood and started marching laps from one end of the boat to the other. The anger pulsing through my limbs didn’t feel like an emotion; it was more like a physical malady, like a stomach ache or a migraine. My fingers were trembling. My thoughts kept circling back to the same asshole, someone completely unrelated to my current crisis, but for whom I’d carried around a multi-year beef. Cam Carpenter. I thought of Cam living safe and happy in Nelson while I lost everything I love and I just couldn’t fucking handle it.

Finally I came around to the back, where some loose orange netting was the only thing between me and the water below. Staring down at it, I realized that I could easily jump into the cold arms of Kootenay Lake — I figured my coat would weigh me down enough that I would drown. Then someone else could deal with this.

Holy shit, I realized. That’s a suicidal thought.

It was the first time in my 33 years on the planet that I’d contemplated suicide, and it scared the shit out of me. Right away I knew it was a whole new line that I wasn’t ready to cross, so I quickly beelined back to the car and jumped in.

“Hey,” I told Bree. “I just thought about throwing myself off the back of the ferry. “I don’t want you to worry, because I’m not going to do it, but I’m going to stay in the car, okay?”

She looked at me with exhaustion in her eyes.

“Yeah,” she said. “Stay right there and we’ll get you to the airport.” The Literary Goon

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starry-bi-sky · 11 months ago

Text

The last thing Sam expects is to find herself being, essentially, threatened by Damian Wayne. But considering who his brother and her best friend is, she should've expected something.

Either way, she puts a finger on the flat part of the blade and slowly pushes it away from her. She's still angry, and feeling like a protective dragon, but she wasn't gonna ignore the nervous fluttering her heart was making against her ribs.

"I know I said it was okay, but I'm gonna tell you the same thing we've been telling Danny for the last few years; generally speaking, pulling knives, daggers, swords, sais, exponentially sharp pencils, and other various sharp objects on people is not considered a proper way to start a conversation." She says, matching Damian's glare-for-glare.

The guy she vaguely recognizes as Tim Drake snorts, and Richard Grayson smothers a smile. Damian, for whatever reason, scowls deeply at her and then discreetly pulls the knife away, stashing it wherever it was he had pulled it from.

Sam relaxes, slightly, with a tiny breath of relief. She doesn't let up the annoyed look on her face though, and with her phone still in hand, crosses her arms over her chest. "What do you want?"

(She's pretty sure she already knows the answer, but she wants to hear it from them herself.)

Grayson smiles at her and folds his hands together. "We think you might be friends with Damian's brother, Danyal?" He says, and okay, Sam's glare sharpens at him. "We wanted to ask more about him."

She knew it. "No."

"No?"

"No." Sam repeats, firm and unwavering. She narrows her eyes. "And if your vapid dad asks, my answer remains the same. No. Talk to Danny yourself, I won't make it that easy."

Damian puffs himself up, his expression darkening as his fingers twitch close to his side. Her mind flashes to his dagger, and she takes a small step away from him. It's a move that Sam only barely catches from her exposure to Danny, as well as Danny showing her and Tucker how to recognize certain body language.

(She and Tucker weren't very good at it, not in the same way Danny was. But Danny himself claimed they were 'passable', which was good enough for her.)

"If you pull your knife on me again, I'll scream." She tells him bluntly, staring him down icily, scowling at him like she's baring her teeth. "I don't care if you're Danny's little brother, I will cause a fucking scene."

Drake and Grayson both laugh low and nervously, and while Damian's hands move away from his side, Grayson still steps in between the both of them. "Ooookay... I think we're getting off on the wrong foot here, Miss Manson."

"I think we're getting on the exact foot you deserve." Sam retorts sharply, her voice dangerously close to a snarl. Tilting her head to the side, she levels Grayson and Drake both with a mean glare. "I'm only being as amicable as I am because Damian is Danny's little brother."

Damian peers around Grayson, and Sam forces herself to soften up slightly as he glowers back at her. "Does Danyal speak of me often?" He asks, lip curling. He sounds confused, though... Slightly.

Sam stares at him for a moment, contemplating if she should tell him anything about Danny at all, or if she should just repeat herself and say she's not telling him anything. In the end, she makes a noise in the back of her throat.

"In comparison to how often he talks about his prior home life, which is never? Yes. I'm sure you heard me say earlier that he didn't mention you often." Sam decides to say, shifting her weight onto one foot and cocking her hip. "Although I had no idea you were his brother until I got here."

Damian's brows furrow, and both Grayson and Drake look intrigued. But before either three of them can open their big mouths to say anything, the phone in Sam's hand buzzes. On instinct, she pulls it out to see who texted her.

Well, speak of the devil. It's Danny.

'Apologies, I got distracted with the Box Ghost. Do you want me to come pick you up?' The text reads -- prior to Damian coming over to threaten her, Sam had been in the middle of a text conversation with Danny. Ever the proper grammar police, his texting is still as formal as it was a few years ago.

Sam is all too happy to ignore the trio of Waynes to text Danny -- who is probably the only, technically, Wayne she likes currently. She glances up at Grayson, Drake, and Damian, and then promptly turns her phone until the back is parallel to their chest, the screen brought close to her face and up to eye level.

There, just in case they had any ideas about reading her texts. Her fingers fly quickly over the screen. 'Depends. how willing are you to fly to Gotham? I forgot to mention to you and tuck that i'm at a wayne function'

Did she forget to tell him earlier that she was in Gotham? Yes, it hadn't crossed her mind at the time. But now is a good time as ever, she supposes.

"Uh, Miss Manson?" Grayson says, Sam flicks her eyes up to him, and then back down to her phone.

She presses send, and barely gets even a second afterward before she gets an immediate phone call. Danny's caller ID put in large lettering at the top of her screen.

Shit, Sam thinks, fumbling slightly out of surprise, I wasn't expecting him to call me. She hits answer, and pushes the speaker up against her ear, plugging the other one with her finger.

"Danny." Sam says, a smile crossing over her face out of surprise. She stares directly at Grayson and company, and give them a stink eye as the three of them prick up like cats. "Hey, I wasn't expecting--"

"Samantha." Danny interrupts, and Sam's smile twists downwards into a close scowl. He knows she hates being called her full name. His voice is deceptively calm. "What do you mean you're at a Wayne function?"

"Exactly what I said." Sam says shortly, twisting slightly away from the trio. "And you know I don't like being called Samantha."

"I apologize." Danny says bluntly, and doesn't sound very apologetic at all. Sam's gonna hit him in the arm when she gets back. "Sam, I need to tell you, but--"

Sam interrupts him this time. "What, that your brother is Damian Wayne?" She says, and Danny falls silent on the other line. She glances at Damian from the corner of her eye. He looks at her, his green eyes intense and burning. She looks away. "Yeah, I know. The resemblance is uncanny, I figured it out instantly."

More silence.

It goes on long enough that Sam frowns and pulls her phone away briefly to make sure that the call hadn't ended. Nope, it's still running, and she puts it back up against her ear. "Danny?" She calls, "Hello?"

"Sorry," Danny suddenly says, and Sam blinks out of surprise. "I was lost in thought. How... is he?" His voice is stilted again, clumsy. The same way it sounded when he was calling her and Tucker his closest friends. The tell that told Sam that he was struggling to express himself.

She smiles again, soft and a little bittersweet. She glances, briefly, again at Damian, eyeing him up and down. "He's fine, D. Healthy, even. No need to worry yourself, he's with his -- your? -- brothers."

There's a sharp breath on the line, and Sam almost misses it as she watches Damian's expression falter and take on the facet of a lost fawn. Then it smooths over. She doesn't bother to give Grayson and Drake much mind.

"I'm not. Worried." Danny grounds out, and it sounds like an unbelievable lie as his voice again comes out stilted. Confused. As if he's not sure if he even believes himself. "I don't worry, Sam. But... it's... good that he is with my... brothers?"

It's kind of endearing that he's not sure how to refer to his dad's adoptive kids, but Sam only suggested the term because she wasn't sure herself on what to call them. Maybe she should've just stuck with 'Damian's brothers'.

Speaking of which, she glances at the trio again. The three of them look at her like she's a specimen under a magnifying glass, looking at her like they're hanging onto the words she says, half-expecting her mention that she's talking to them right now.

And Sam won't lie, she's half-tempted to tell Danny that she's actually talking to Damian right now and ask him if she'd like to pass the phone over. That feels like a conversation he desperately needs, she remembers Danny mentioning in passing that he didn't have the best relationship with his little brother and that he'd like to try and mend it.

But then she sees Grayson and Drake, and over her shoulder she sees Bruce Wayne glancing over to them while trapped in mid-conversation with her parents and a few of the other rich assholes here. He looks like he may as well excuse himself any moment and make. his way over.

And she thinks about the fact that Danny is currently in Amity Park for reasons unknown to her, and about the fact that Grayson and Drake wanted to ask her about Danny. Which means that they probably don't know anything about him.

And she looks at Damian, and the fact that it probably means that he's never told them about Danny beyond his existence. And that he hasn't made the effort to get their family to reach out to him.

And she doesn't feel that nice.

"Actually, Dee." Sam says, and maintains eye contact with Damian. "It's pretty loud in here. Let me call you back once I can get somewhere quieter, okay?"

She narrows her eyes at the trio, freezing herself over.

"...Alright." Danny says, and Sam pulls her phone away and hangs up.

"Like I said," She tells the three of them, her voice as cold as the ice Danny can create. She smiles sweetly, meanly, "I won't make it that easy."

And then she books it away before Damian can potentially jump her.

(Part of this post with older brother danyal al ghul)

...Okay, look. Sam knows she's staring. She knows very well that she is staring. And that if she doesn't stop staring it's gonna draw her unwanted attention, and that will only have to make her explain why she's staring. Which she doesn't want to do.

She's trying not to stare, which she thinks she should get brownie points for. She tries to look away, to find a spot on the wall to stare lifelessly at, maybe she can burn holes into some of these annoying socialites' heads. But eventually her eyes drift, and suddenly she's back to staring again.

Can you blame her though? Damian Wayne looks like a very close mini-me of her fucking best friend. Seriously, it's like looking into a mirror to the past. If that mirror to the past had green eyes rather than blue and a distinctive lack of a facial scar.

The first time she sees him when her parents drag her over to Bruce Wayne to butter up to him she has to do a doubletake. Then a triple take. Then a quadruple take, just for good measure that she was seeing what she was actually seeing. She was sure she looked like one of those stress toys that when squeezed had their eyes pop out comically like a Saturday morning cartoon, that's what she certainly felt like anyways.

Look, Danny's come a decent way from being that scowl-y, jerkish little ten year old she first met when he arrived like the wind to Amity Park five years ago (even if he was still occasionally scowl-y and jerkish), but one thing that's stayed the same is how reserved he is about his home life prior to being taken in by the Fentons.

He doesn't talk about it much, and Sam's come to know that he's very good at changing the subject when it gets brought up. Even after being friends for nearly four years, the only thing she and Tuck know for certain is that he has a little brother that he refers to as 'starlight', whom he cares a lot about but left on really bad terms with. And that he's never met his father, but wants to and knows who he is.

He's never told her or Tucker who he was though, and glancing at Bruce Wayne, Sam is realizing why. She can begrudgingly acknowledge all the good he's done for Gotham, but... well, if Danny told her that Bruce Wayne was his dad, she wouldn't have believed him at all.

But she's starting to see the resemblance, as subtle as it is.

And she sees the resemblance to Damian Wayne, her eyes dropping back down to him as he wears a very Danny-like scowl on his face, arms crossed behind his back as his eyes swept around the ballroom. He was five years younger than Danny, and god it was so, so weird.

His eyes turned on to her, and they locked gazes for a moment.

Involuntarily, Sam makes a startled noise and looks away. Fingers tap against her purse, black and purple and unfortunately a clutch that only held her phone and her wallet in it. She would have kept a knife on her, but her parents put their foot down and there was a security detail at the door. Only in Gotham.

Silently, she was hoping that the little Danny-me didn't say anything. Or at least, he hadn't noticed her staring. Which was a tall order if she ever heard one -- and unfortunately, her silent prayers went unanswered as her mother's eyes dropped down onto her.

"Did you say something, Samantha?" She asks in a sickeningly sweet voice, a sound that makes Sam's skin crawl. Her dad and Bruce Wayne's attention also turns onto her, and she glowers at her mom from the corner of her eye.

"I didn't say anything." Sam says, barely keeping her tone polite as she turned her head away. Her mother clucks her tongue, disapproving, but from her peripherals doesn't pester her more

Bruce Wayne, the bastard, takes that time to turn to Sam and grace her with his dime-a-dozen billboard smiles. "I've been talking with your parents this whole time, Miss Manson, you must be terribly bored. How is your schooling going?"

Sam eyes him up and down. On one hand, she immediately wants to be snarky. It's none of his business what her school life is like, she doesn't care for his fucking small talk.

On the other hand, this was Danny's whole father. Someone who she knows that Danny has wanted to meet for, what she's assuming, his whole life. He's never brought it up much, but she remembers that very quiet, solemn conversation she and Tucker had with him where he admits to having never met his dad. But god does he want to.

And... wait. Sam's eyes narrow, and she meets Bruce Wayne's eyes. Does this man even know Danny exists? She drops her gaze down to Damian, who was staring at her suspiciously, and then back up to Bruce, and she alternates between them.

Why was Damian living with Bruce, but not Danny? Why hasn't Bruce done anything to reach out to him - what was going on with Danny's biological family that Danny had to be separated from them, but not Damian? Danny's always been kinda mysterious, but now things weren't adding up.

Was Danny given up? Does Bruce just not want Danny, but wanted Damian? Why the fuck does Bruce Wayne know about Damian but not her best friend -- or does he know and just not care? He's fought for custody for his adoptive kids before, does he just not want to fight for his other biological son? Does he think Danny's not worth it?

She's never cared much about the Wayne family before, other than to hear about the advancements on WE's eco-friendly tech, but Sam thinks she's gonna have to look into why Damian Wayne was living with the Waynes.

Slowly, with a protective anger beginning to burn in her gut and crawl up her throat, a scowl slowly curls at the corner of her lip as she redirects her glare from her mother onto Bruce. "It's going fine," She says curtly, jutting her chin out defiantly. "Me and my friend Danny started a petition to fix the leaky faucets in the girls and boys' bathrooms in order to conserve more water for the rest of the city."

She eyes his face, waiting to see if anything like recognition flashes through it. And- and nothing. Sam breathes in slowly through her nose, trying to quell the red that's blurring the edge of her vision -- does he just, not know where Danny is?

Her parents however, make vaguely displeased expressions. "Our Samantha is... quite passionate about her pet projects." Her dad says, laughing low and nervously, "she's very vocal about silly things like that."

"Her friend Daniel is perhaps even worse than she is sometimes." Her mother adds on, fanning her face with her perfectly manicured hands with a sigh. "I swear, he's the one that keeps dragging her into these things."

Sam's anger turns on its head, and she whirls on her heel like a fire-breathing dragon. "It's Danyal." It rolls out like instinct. Danny's told them both that he hates the Americanized pronunciation of his name, but in a rare moment of restraint, puts up with it for reasons unknown to her. "And Danny doesn't make me do anything, it was my idea."

The name, Danyal, seems to ring some kind of bell in Brucie Wayne's head, because she sees him and Damian quietly perk up like two cats pricking up their ears. Her eyes flick onto him immediately, something dangerous rearing its head. So Bruce Wayne knows about Danny. And he's not reaching out to him. Is he? She's not sure.

She does know that she's gonna rip his throat out if she finds out that he's known about Danny this entire time and has been ignoring him while favoring his little brother. She'll hunt down Aragon herself and steal his dragon-shifting amulet and wreck house on Bruce Wayne if that's the case. Batman and his league of vigilantes be damned. Her parents don't notice her slowly turning head towards Bruce.

But Bruce does, and she makes direct eye contact with him. His smile doesn't falter, he just tilts his head like a curious puppy and looks at Sam's parents. She hopes Bruce can read minds, she hopes he can hear her threatening him.

"Danyal?" He asks, and Sam doesn't know if she hates the fact that he said it correctly or not. She just continues burning holes into him and hoping he might spontaneously combust.

Her mother waves her hand dismissively, tilting her nose up poshly into the air. "Our dear Samantha's little... foster friend from school," she says, not even bothering to hide her disdain, "a creepy little boy with the most garish scar on his face. He's a rude little thing, not good for polite company."

Scratch that, Sam mentally alternates between ripping into her parents and Bruce. She whirls on them. "Do not talk about Danny that way." She all but snarls, and they all but ignore her.

(She's tearing up the upholstery when she gets home. She's going to paint over the fine china. She's going to do something to make them pay for this.)

"Oh yes, he was taken in by that freaky Fenton family a few years ago." Her dad continues in lieu of her mom, and they both shake their heads disapprovingly. "It's just what our city needs, another menace."

"Danny is not a menace." Sam continues, raising her voice while her hands shake with rage. Her parents finally look at her, but she can already tell that they're going to scold her for raising her voice. She bulldozes over them and jabs her black-painted finger at them. "He's got a bigger heart than the both of you combined."

"Samantha, please." her mom says, exasperated. They both give her disapproving looks, Sam thinks about grabbing champagne off the tray of a nearby waiter and throwing it in their faces. "You defend that boy far too much. What do you actually know about him and his family?"

Sam sets her jaw, puffing herself up like a dragon protecting its hoard. She steps into her mom's space. "I know that he loves the stars; you can ask him anything about astronomy and he could give you an entire lecture on the formation, class types, and various gasses that stars are made up of. He can tell you how the Earth was formed, he can tell you about the visible light spectrum and about light curves, and a whole ton of other stuff that I don't really understand. But Danny loves talking about it."

Her face twists and scowls, "I know he cares a ton about the environment and about fixing light pollution, and preserving the forests and natural habitats of animals." She nearly jabs her finger into her mom's chest, "I know he loves dogs, and that there's one he feeds every day on the way to school that he calls Cujo, its a St. Bernard puppy and Danny carries him around whenever he sees him after school, and is in the middle of training him."

It's not a total lie, but it's not the whole truth either. Cujo doesn't need food, but Danny gives him it anyways. "I know he likes spicy food and loves movies but specifically only sci-fi and horror, and he hates most martial arts movies. His favorite superhero is the Martian Manhunter, but Batman comes in at a close second." For reasons to her that were pretty unknown, but it didn't matter.

"I know he loves wordplay and making puns, which I would have never expected from him when we first met, but it's so unbelievably Danny-like that I can't imagine him not making puns." And she smiles a little to herself, she remembers the first time Danny intentionally made a pun once and it got startled laughs out of both her and Tucker.

Her smile suddenly falters, and she swallows. Her lips purse up, wobbling, and she very quickly glances over to Damian Wayne, of whom is watching her with a vaguely bewildered expression alongside Bruce.

She turns her eyes back onto her parents. "And I know that he worries a lot, even if he has a shit way of showing it. I know he had a little brother that he hasn't seen since he was adopted by the Fentons, and he doesn't talk about him often but when he does he he calls him 'starlight'." From the corner of her eye, she sees Damian jerk.

"So- so, so what if he's not 'good for polite company'." Sam's voice, embarrassingly, cracks down the middle. But she's so angry over Danny's behalf that she doesn't really care. "Or that he can be mean, and critical, and stubborn. He's learning, and he's becoming kinder by the day. That's more than I can say about you."

(She remembers when Danny finally admitted to her and Tucker being his 'closest friends'. It was sometime before the portal incident, and it felt like a milestone because beforehand he only really referred to them as his companions or allies.)

(At the time, he'd looked unsure of himself. Skittish like a stray in the back of an alleyway, almost shy in his own way. It had come out stilted, slow, like an infant taking its first steps, and it would have been endearing if it hadn't been heartbreaking.)

Her parents rear back like she'd struck them, and her mother holds a hand against her chest in aghast. Sam doesn't care, she blinks the sting out of her eyes. "Samantha." Her mother starts.

Sam cuts her off, "I don't care what you have to say, you-- you pricks." she snaps, around her, there are gasps. Belatedly, she realizes she's grown an audience, but again she doesn't care. "Danny might be an asshole, but he cares. And I'd rather be around someone whose mean but cares, than someone whose nice but doesn't."

With that, she whirls on her foot and turns on Bruce Wayne, who has been silent the entire time with a surprised expression on his face. He starts to shake out of it when Sam turns to him, but she doesn't give him the chance to speak. "Enjoy your party." She snarls, and then stalks away.

#older brother danny #danny fenton is not the ghost king #danyal al ghul au #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #whoop this ALSO got longer than i meant it to be. that was fun though!#sam: this is probably a bad idea and danny will be upset later but fuck you guys. talk to him yourself im not making it easier for you #danny is unsure how to react to damian being there. he sorta falls back onto instinct of pretending not to care and then he immediately #fights against that instinct. “no wait tell me how he is.” and sam thinks its kinda cute how he tries to pretend like he doesn't care #she also thinks its really fucking sad that he has to pretend like he doesnt and she's gonna jump the bitch that made him think he had to #hide that he cares about people. she and tucker both are gonna tag team the sucker. and jazz too for that matter. they have a line

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storiesforallfandoms · 4 years ago

Text

hard day ~ pete davidson

word count: 2057

request?: yes!

“Hey can I request a Pete Davidson imagine where the reader has had a long hard day at set and dealing with papparazzi and Pete pampers her. Maybe ending in smut to make her feel special?”

description: after a hard day of filming, followed by an overwhelming run in with paparazzi, he decides to help her relax

pairing: pete davidson x female!reader

warnings: swearing, smut

masterlist (one, two)

The sound of the door slamming alerted Pete that his girlfriend was finally arriving home. She had texted him a few hours earlier to say she was being kept late on set, but neither one of them thought that she meant she’d be this late.

Pete craned his neck to peak around the doorway of the living room as he watched (Y/N) stomp up the stairs towards their shared room. He cringed as he heard that door slam shut as well. He knew this meant that (Y/N) wanted to be left alone, but he hated to leave her alone while she was so angry. So, he paused his show and got up to make his way to their room.

Instead of barging in, Pete stood outside their shared bedroom door and knocked. When there was no answer, he tried again.

“Fuck off,” came a groan.

“Hard day baby?” Pete asked her.

“Fuck off for a bit, Pete. I don’t wanna snap at you.”

Pete sighed and decided to leave her be. He knew it was best to let her blow off steam however she felt she had to, but it was hard when all he wanted was to take her in his arms and hold her until the bad went away.

An idea popped into his head. He moved from their bedroom to the bathroom down the hall. He began to run the bath and put some of (Y/N)’s favorite bubble bath in. He watched as the bubble rose so high that she would definitely disappear into them. While waiting for the hot water to cool down just enough that she could get in comfortably, Pete went down to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of wine and two glasses.

Once his de-stressing scene was all set up, he went back to their bedroom. Instead of knocking, Pete just walked in. He found his girlfriend laying face down on the bed. She was still completely dressed in her clothes from the day, which made him feel a slight twinge of sadness for her.

(Y/N) lifted her head just enough to look at Pete before letting it drop back down to the bed. “Go away.”

“I have a bath ready for you.”

(Y/N) rolled over onto her back and looked over at him. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I think I did, actually. You seem very upset, and we both know how much you love a good bath to help calm down.”

(Y/N) looked at him for a moment longer. She had to admit he was right on that front. She loved to take a nice hot bath after a long, stressful day in order to calm down. But tonight she just felt extra stressed and frustrated to a point where it felt like even a bath wasn’t going to help her.

She couldn’t hold back her giggles as Pete lifted her into his arms and started carrying her towards the bathroom. He played her on the counter and began to strip her of her clothes.

“I think I know how to get undressed, Pete,” she joked.

“But it’s my favorite thing to do!” Pete responded, a goofy smile on her face as he pulled her pants and panties down her legs at the same time, leaving her completely naked in front of him.

“You do light up like a child on Christmas when I take my bra off,” she teased him, noticing his eyes lingering on her chest.

“Your tits are my favorite gifts,” he agreed, tweaking her nipple just once to satisfy the urge inside of him. (Y/N)’s legs tightened a little at the gesture. Pete noticed, but decided not to say anything just yet.

He helped her into the tub and poured her a glass of the wine.

“Aren’t you joining me?” she asked as she took the glass from him.

“I’ll join you in a nice glass of this expensive wine we have,” he said. “But this is your de-stressing bath. I’ll just sit here and watch and drink for a while.”

“That’s romantic,” she said, sarcastically. “I take a nice hot bubble bath all by myself, while my boyfriend sits on the toilet.”

“Hey, could be worse. I could also be naked while I’m sitting here. Imagine how weird that would be.”

(Y/N) crinkled her nose before she started to giggle. Pete smiled as well, feeling a sense of pride in making her laugh.

They both sat together for a while, just sipping their wine. (Y/N) felt her body relaxing in the hot water as she laid her head back against the wall behind her. This really was what she needed after such a long day, whether her more frustrated self wanted to admit it or not.

“What had you so worked up in the first place, babe?” Pete asked as he filled her wine glass.

(Y/N) groaned. “You’re ruining the mood, Pete.”

He chuckled. “Okay, sorry. Just asking is all.”

(Y/N) sighed and lifted her head again to look at him. “Remember how I texted you to tell you I was asked to stay a bit later in order to finish a scene? Well, that ‘a bit later’ turned into three hours later because the director kept making me film the scene over and over and over until he finally decided it was okay. Not perfect, not even great! Just okay. He put us through hours of reshooting just to decide he was going to go with the okay take! Fucking bastard!”

“What was his problem?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “Beats me! Apparently nothing was good enough for him. Wasted three fucking hours filming just to get an okay scene. Then, when I left, I was tired but I wanted to spend at least an hour with you, so I decided to go get coffee. The minute I stepped out of my vehicle I was swarmed by paparazzi. I don’t know how they figured out where I went, but they would not leave me alone. I ended up not even going into the coffee place cause I could not get around at all.”

Pete reached out and took hold of one of (Y/N) bubbly, wet hands. “I’m so sorry, babe. I do get how much the paparazzi shit sucks, but on top of an already bad day? That fucking sucks so much?”

(Y/N) sighed and ran her thumb over Pete’s knuckles. “It does suck. I have to go back to set tomorrow morning and I’m dreading it so much. How am I supposed to go back there after spending so long filming that last scene today? I’ll kill the director the moment I see him.”

“You wouldn’t even hurt a fly baby, let’s not pretend here.”

(Y/N) chuckled. “You’re right, I can’t.”

The silence washed over them again. (Y/N)’s eyes trailed to Pete’s hand. She looked at it for a while, just lost in her own world as she absentmindedly ran her thumb over his knuckles. Then, she started thinking about his long fingers inside of her, curling just right to hit that spot inside of her that drove her over the edge every time. She felt a heat growing between her legs, and if she wasn’t in the bath already she was certain she’d be soaked.

“What are you thinking?” Pete asked, breaking her out of her trance. She looked up at him suddenly, eyes wide with the shock of being caught.

“Uh...” she said, trying to think of something to say. She didn’t want to tell Pete she had been having sexual daydreams, but then she realized what was the harm of telling him? They had been together for quite some time, it’s not like she’d scare him off by telling him anything. “I was thinking about your fingers inside of me.”

Pete’s pants grew a bit tighter at this. “Really? Pretty specific thing to be thinking about.”

“Well, I’m here holding your hand. I’m thinking about things that relax me. Your fingers definitely cause me to relax a lot when they’re down there.”

Pete placed his wine glass on the counter next to him and pulled his shirt over his head. (Y/N) watched in slight confusion, before realization washed over her when Pete’s hand disappeared under the water. He nudged her legs open and slowly ran two fingers up and down her slit, teasingly.

“You feel so wet already baby,” he joked, a smile on his face.

(Y/N) couldn’t contain her own smile and giggles. “You’re such a fucking do - ”

Her playful insult was silenced as Pete pushed two fingers deep inside of her. (Y/N) gasped, her head falling back against the wall behind her again. Pete started pumping in and out of her very slowly, making sure he wasn’t hurting her with what he was doing.

“Is this what you were thinking about baby?” he asked her.

“Fuck Pete,” she breathed. “Fuck yes this feels so good.”

Pete curled his fingers in a way that made it easier for him to hit the right spots. (Y/N) let out a moan and tried to buck her hips against his fingers, but he used his other hand to ease her back down.

“Just sit back and let me take care of you baby,” he said. “I’ll take all your stress away.”

Pete’s erection was becoming nearly unbearable as he watched (Y/N) coming undone in front of him, and felt her warmth wrapped around his fingers. He wanted nothing more than to take her right there, to really fuck any stress left out of her. But at the same time, he didn’t want that. He just wanted to make her feel good, to wipe the memories of he day away.

(Y/N)’s free hand wrapped around Pete’s bicep. Her nails dug so deep into his arm that Pete knew there would be marks there once she pulled away, maybe even full on scratches or blood, but he’d wear the marks with pride. He usually did whenever she left them on him.

He began to speed up his pumping. He felt (Y/N)’s thighs clenching around his hand, as if she were trying to hold him there. Breathy moans were escaping from her lips as he body began to tremble.

“Fuck Pete,” she breathed. “Fuck, I’m starting to feel close.”

“Yeah?” Pete asked. “Are you gonna cum all over my fingers baby?”

In response, (Y/N) moaned again. Pete picked up his pace a little more, causing her moans to become screams of pleasure. He could feel the tension building up in her as he body prepared to let go.

Pete leaned forward to kiss (Y/N) gently on her lips. “Cum for me, princess. Let me feel you.”

With those words, (Y/N) came completely undone. She screamed Pete’s name so loud he was sure the neighbors would hear her. He felt her clenching around his fingers and he wished he could actually feel her wetness and not just that of the water in the tub.

(Y/N) was breathing heavily when Pete was finally able to pull away from her. He stood and grabbed a nearby hand towel to begin drying his hands. (Y/N) watched him, a cloud of lustful fog still blocking her as she tried to recover from her high. Her eyes shifted down to Pete’s crotch area, where she noticed the evergrowing buldge.

“Do you want me to return the favor?” she asked, a lazy smile on her face.

Pete smiled back at her and leaned down to kiss her again. “That’s okay babe. You enjoy your bath until it gets cold.”

(Y/N)’s brows furrowed together. “You don’t want me to do anything for you?”

“Well I didn’t say that,” Pete said. “But for now I just want you to unwind. We can fuck later on. I’ll make you forget your entire day then, maybe even your own name if you’re lucky.”

(Y/N) giggled. “I hope I’ll be lucky then.”

She smiled as she watched Pete leave the room to change his clothes. Despite her teasing words, she felt like she was already the luckiest girl in the world to have such an amazing man by her side.

#Pete Davidson #pete davidson imagine #pete davidson smut #pete davidson x reader #imagine #one shot #request #smut #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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biscuitblinkeu · 2 years ago

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Someone I Can’t Live Without

Lisa Manoban x Fem!reader - Not Requested

Pure Fluff

Prompt: Your someone she can’t live without.

Here I am! Posting stuff that have absolutely nothing to do with what I say I was gonna post. Hope you enjoy this short, lol.

………………………………………………………………………………

It was one of those days for Lisa.

The days where time was spent recording lines for their title track, dancing with small photo shoots and on top of that very little breaks as their comeback neared. She usually texts you every now and then during work but today’s schedule was tight. And if the girls knew they would act like protective moms giving their daughter’s significant other the “talk”. Lisa was the significant other in that situation. She’d make it up to you tho. She always does.

In short Lisa was exhausted. She wanted to have a nice shower and god- was she starving. She missed her cats, she missed you. Lisa just wanted to go home.

Home is where you are…if your not doing something stupid with your silly friends.

“No! I really think this would look better on her.” You and your friends giggled at the princess dress cat clothes she held up.

“Lily won’t fit that though..” You held back your laughter at your other friend's statement. It gave you deja vu- and you knew if Lisa heard that she would say it was just her fur and pout.

“Guys,” their attention was on you now, “you guys are not helping with the suggestions, i’m getting Lily and Leo frog bucket hats.” You 're proud of your pick, they would look adorable in these. Your friends groaned playfully, disappointed none of their suggestions won. It’s not surprising, because why did they think a roach cat costume was a good idea?

You went out with your friends on a shopping trip, after that you found a cute pet store and decided to get your animal friends a gift. You got side tracked and bought a lot of stuff, but it’s for a good cause. Right.

You all headed out the store after you paid for your items, parting ways after saying goodbyes.

When you got to your shared apartment with Lisa, you cooked something up knowing Lisa would be hungry when she got here. Then you hopped in the shower after turning the stove to warm and threw on one of Lisa’s hoodies and some shorts.

You fed the cats and then decided to play with them. As you were crouched on the ground with a cat toy in your hand playing with Luca, the door opened.

Lisa walked in with a heavy sigh and you were quick to get up and ask her how her day was. She once told you it got rid of her stress talking to you and warmed her heart that you cared, so you made this sort of your routine.

“It was really exhausting and I was dying to get home to you. Speaking of you- I’m really sorry I didn’t send anything signaling I was still alive, me and the girls schedule today felt like it would never end.” You smiled at her, telling her you weren’t sad or anything. “I’m sorry to hear that, would you like me to do anything for you, love?” Her hands gravitated to your hips and gave them a little squeeze before placing a kiss on your forehead, she was content right there. The tension in her form leaving her. You felt Luca rub against your legs and bent down to pick him up(she smiled at the sight)just as Lisa’s stomach rumbled. She blushed in response, but you didn’t mind.

You simply took one of her hands and led her to the kitchen where you had made food earlier. There was already a bowl of it on the side, just for her.

She turned to you, “Aw, thank you, I love you so mu- ‘meow’. ” Her cat cut her off. She playfully glared at him, who was snug in your arms. She should be there. With a sigh she carefully pried him off you and set him on the floor. He scurried off going to do who knows what.

“Now I have some time with my girl.” Her mouth curved into a cheeky smile. You rolled your eyes playfully knowing she got jealous of the cat. You stepped into her embrace, not prepared for the flurry of butterfly kisses on your face. You laughed softly, your heart melting at her words,

“I really don’t know what I would do without you.” And she never would know what that would be like, you were her rock, she yours. Each other’s everything.

#fanfic #romance #blackpink #fem reader #fluff #fem!reader #lisa x femreader #lisa x fem!reader #lisa x reader #lisa manoban #im sorry.#blackpink x reader #biscuitblinkeu

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mysunnylemonade · 4 years ago

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insecurities | lee jeno

↳ pairing: lee jeno (nct) x fem!reader

↳ genre: slight angst, mostly fluff & suggestive but only if u squint rlly hard

↳ word count: 1482

↳ warning: reader being insecure about her looks i guess?? (love urself ppl yall beautiful <3)

song recommendation: met a girl by tarune

♡

Hate was a strong word, but you felt it was appropriate to say that you absolutely hated nights like the one you were having on this particular day. Standing half-naked in front of the full-body mirror situated in the corner of your shared bedroom, your eyes swept over your body once more. You despised the way your gaze lingered on the stretch marks that tainted your skin.

Wallowing in self-pity and stressing over your physical flaws wasn't exactly a standard routine for you, especially when Jeno was around. But your boyfriend wouldn't be back until late at night, having texted you he had something to do that would require him to stay at the studio longer than usual.

You turned to the side, pressing your palm over your stomach, rubbing up and down as if it would magically flatten your abdomen. Nothing happened, of course, leaving you feeling sick and fed up with the thoughts you were having.

You wiped the tears accumulating in your eyes, not allowing it to trickle down your cheeks. You could see your boyfriend's face in your mind and briefly wondered whether you were truly good enough for him. You didn't blame your insecurities on him, never. Your boyfriend was nothing but loving, and he showered you with gifts just as much as he showered you with loving words, but there were times when it was remarkably hard to believe his kind words.

You wished you could miraculously switch off your mind and climb out of this self-loathing pit you had willingly put yourself into. It was your fault, you would admit that. If you hadn't decided to strip into your underwear and scrutinise yourself in the mirror then maybe you would've been in the dining room enjoying the dinner you had made by now.

As you were stepping closer to the mirror to get a better lock at your face, you heard the turning of a key in a lock before the front door was pushed open. The realisation that Jeno had come home much earlier than you expected kept you paralysed on the spot. It wasn't until you heard the front door shutting that you were finally able to move, hastily wiping the tears from your reddened eyes and shrugging on the robe you had carelessly tossed onto the bed.

You heard him call for your name but you didn't respond, scurrying into the bathroom to wash your face in hopes of being able to get rid of any evidence that you had been crying. Jeno couldn't know. You weren't going to drag him into your mess.

You cursed to yourself as you studied your reflection in the bathroom mirror. Your cheeks and nose were flushed, and your eyes were unmistakably bloodshot. There was no way Jeno wouldn't notice.

"Baby, you in here?" Jeno called out from the entrance of the bedroom. You heard shuffling as he took off his jacket. When he spoke again, his voice was dangerously close to the bathroom, and you immediately faked a smile. "Hey, why haven't you eaten dinner yet? Were you waiting for me?"

Turning your head, you were met with your boyfriend's figure standing in the bathroom doorway. It tugged your heart to see him look so beautiful, even after a whole day of working. You just couldn't understand why he had chosen you. Why hadn't he picked someone with less baggage and imperfections?

You watched as his small smile transformed into a frown. Without any hesitation, he stepped forward to grab your hand. "Hey, have you been crying? What's wrong?"

You forced a quiet chuckle. "I was watching this new romance movie that just released." You watched his face closely, swallowing when you saw that his worried expression hadn't dissipated at all. "Have you eaten dinner yet? Go shower and come eat dinner with me."

You squeezed his hand assuringly once more before walking past him to give him some privacy in the bathroom. "Were you really just watching a movie? You look like you've been crying for hours."

You plopped onto the bed with a huff and looked up to see Jeno had walked out of the bathroom and was slowly approaching your sitting form. "Babe, we've been dating long enough for you to know I'm sensitive when it comes to tragic endings."

He stood in front of you, cupping your cheeks in his hand to tilt your head up. "Yeah, and I also know my girlfriend enough to know whenever she's lying."

You managed to smile and shake your head as he pressed his thumbs to caress the irritated skin underneath your puffy eyes. "Jeno, I'm okay."

Leaning down, he pressed his forehead against yours, causing your noses to brush. The both of you stayed like that for a few more seconds, and you welcomed the distraction. You wanted to forget the cause of your previous breakdown and Jeno's presence was helping tremendously.

Feeling the gentle brush of his lips against yours, you gasped, hands flying to grasp his arms. "Jeno," you breathed, pulling away slightly to look into his eyes. They were dark, wild, so lovely.

"Tell me," he muttered softly.

Unable to look into his eyes as you confessed, you looked down at your lap. "I'm sorry," you began. "It's just so stupid. You're the best boyfriend there is, you treat me so well, and you're just so beautiful, Jeno, and I don't know how to... compete with that."

Once again, he forced your head up so he could look into his eyes. "Baby, we're not competing for anything. What are you trying to say?"

"I just can't understand why you're still with me. I'm so flawed, and you can settle for someone who's so much more good looking, someone who can give you so much more than I can."

Jeno's face remained expressionless as he gazed down at you, but you could tell the gears in his head were all turning. His silence worried you so you shifted in your seat awkwardly.

He seemed to notice your slight movement and finally snapped out of his train of thoughts. "Wait, you're not messing with me, right?"

Groaning, you tried to stand up, but he held your waist before you could walk away. "Okay, I know it's stupid. Can we just forget about it? Please?"

His eyes widened and he pulled you closer to him until there was no space left in between the two of you. "No, no, this is far from stupid. If you feel this way, it means I haven't done a good job at being your boyfriend. I'm supposed to be making you feel loved, but—"

"No! You've been a perfect boyfriend, you're perfect. It's not your fault, seriously, it's mine."

"If this is about the way you look, then I'll have to disagree and say that it's not your fault. Everything you consider imperfections or flaws, they're a part of you, and I fell in love with that a long time ago, and I'm not falling out of love anytime soon."

"I'm sorry for being so insecure. I just... I feel like you deserve better."

His lips broke out into a soft yet wistful smile. "You're not in any position to tell me what I deserve and don't baby," he mumbled lightheartedly. "Being with you was a choice that I made, loving you is something that I choose to do until now. All these choices that I made are all choices that I made deliberately, not because I'm forced to."

Unable to say anything else, your tears began to blur your visions once again, but this time it was because you were thankful. You felt so blessed that out of all of the people in the world, you ended up with Lee Jeno—a boy whose smile shone as bright as the sun and whose heart was beautiful and kind. "I love you so much," you managed to splutter out.

Sensing the oncoming tears, Jeno bent his knees a little so that he was eye-level with you. "Hey, don't cry, I love you too," he spoke, his smile now reaching his eyes, turning them into the little crescent moon that you adored so much. "You make me happy, and that's more than enough for me. Is that enough for you?"

You nodded. "All I ever want is for you to be happy, Jeno."

He visibly relaxed at this, and gone was the solemn atmosphere that once lingered in the air. "That's settled then. You're not getting rid of me that easily because you want me happy and I'm the happiest when I'm with you. So, will you lie down on the bed for me now?"

Tilting your head, you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. "Why?"

"I still need to show you how beautiful you are to me and I don't think words are gonna cut it."

"Lee Jeno!"

♡

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h0neypjm · 4 years ago

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Confident 02 | jjk

↳ Summary: After giving Jungkook the best suck of his life he’s left wondering if what you said was true. Was it really your first time? ‘Cause Jungkook thinks you might’ve lied.

↳ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

↳ Genre: Smut, fluff, angst, college au, fuckboy! jk, our fav cheeky virgin reader!

↳ Rating: 18+

↳ Word count: 8.8k

↳ Warnings: swearing, mentions of past toxic relationship, mentions of being pressured into sex, mentions of body image, mentions of stds, Jungkook being very confused, no smut in this part

↳ a/n: here it is !!! thank you for all the love for the first part, i hope you enjoy this part ! please feel free to leave any feedback <3

↳ Series: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04

Previously...

“She said it's her first time.” He pauses, looking up at his friends' concerned faces. “I think she might’ve lied.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

Jungkook groans, cradling his head before banging it on the table. The utensils on the table rattle and clang, bringing unwanted attention to his mini breakdown. Taehyung is quick to place his hand under Jungkook's forehead just as he goes in for another blow. “Ok, Jungkook- Jungkook!” Jimin giggles beside him. “Fucking stop, people are staring.”

Jungkook pauses and subtly peeks out of his long bangs, checking to see that Taehyung’s words were indeed true. He breathes out and sits up in his chair, fixing his shirt to play off that he wasn’t just having a mental meltdown.

Jimin rolls his eyes, “soooo are you gonna talk now, cause’ I have a horrible headache and you’re really not helping.”

Jungkook nods opening his mouth to speak. “Alright so uh, I met a girl last night and-”

“I thought you went home?” Taehyung shoves Jimin’s shoulder and Jungkook glares, “yeah, well that clearly didn’t happen.” He rubs his temples, “could you do me a favour and let me speak first, and then you can ask the questions. Ok?”

The two boys nod, settling into their seats as Jungkook delves back into his story.

“Alright so anyways, I saw this girl and like, I haven’t ever seen her before? She was literally perfect”. He exhales looking at nothing at particular as he continues. “Gorgeous face, prettiest lips and oh! speaking of her lips, God the way she sucked-”

Despite what Jungkook said earlier, Taehyung feels the need to intervene. “Ok as much as I love a good suck myself, I need you to stop here, we don’t need the graphics.” Jimin nods in agreement even though it’s clear he’s not paying an ounce of attention. Jungkook smirks at the memory, but it soon drops as he remembers one tiny detail. He places his hands on the table, total seriousness etched onto his face. “But here’s the kicker, she said it was her first time.”

Confusion.

“So did you or did you not take her virginity?”Jungkook crosses his arms. “No, after that she just up and left.” “Wait, fuck”, Jungkook suddenly realises, “I didn’t even make her cum”, he groans and Taehyung bursts into laughter. This finally garners Jimin’s attention, his dazed eyes squinting. “Who’s the girl?” Jungkook sighs, “if you were listening before you would’ve heard me say that I don’t know her.” Jimin leans forward,“well can you at least describe her? I pretty much know everyone who attended the party”

Jungkook doesn’t have to think that hard. “She was wearing this plaid skirt and like a white top-” Jimin’s eyes widen, “Holy shit, Y/N?! Man, Jin’s gonna kill you.” This makes Jungkook pause, thoughts running back to the text he had received from Jin. “Wait, they’re not a thing are they?” Jimin chokes, “God no, they’ve been family friends since like forever, Jin’s practically her protective older brother.”

That explained his text earlier. Jungkook furrows his brows, more questions beginning to arise and spill out of his mouth. “How come I’ve never met her and if she’s a virgin, then how- how did-”, Taehyung cuts in, “dude she’s done other things before.” More confusion. “And how would you know that?” Taehyung smirks, shrugging as he gets up out of his chair. “I'm gonna get a drink, Jimin, you want anything?” God, his head is spinning. “Sure, you know my usual.”

It was the way Taehyung spoke too casually, like your lifestyle choices were common knowledge. How the fuck hasn’t he met you, yet his friends seem to be well acquainted with your existence? “What the fuck was that look?” He focuses on Taehyung from where he orders his drinks. “Did you see it Jimin? Kinda sus.”

Jimin remains nonchalant, blowing a strand of hair out of his sight before answering one of Jungkook’s urgent queries. “Jin never introduced you to her because well…” He looks Jungkook up and down with an unimpressed look. “You would get your grimy hands on her immediately. And Then after that, It’s like she never existed ” Jungkook opens his mouth, rebuttal on the tip of his tongue. “Don’t argue with me boy, the second you met her, you already wanted her on your dick, did you not?”

Jungkook is shocked to say the least, jaw hanging open as Taehyung makes his way back to the table, drinks in hand. “Oh God, what did you tell him?” Jungkook slams his fist on the table, yet again grabbing the attention of people around them. “That is not true! I have standards, and what about you two. You guys are just as bad.” He points accusingly at the bruises peeking out of Taehyung’s loose shirt, “Look at Tae! Those hickies are probably a combination of the three girls he fucked last week!”

Jimin doesn’t want to get kicked out of the cafe, so he attempts to calm down a soon to be raging Jungkook. “Look, to put it nicely, you’re a heartbreaker, you lead girls on whereas Tae and I actually tell people we’re not interested in anything more than a hookup.”

Jungkook seems to understand where he’s coming from. He can admit, he does have quite the reputation if the amount of times he’s been slapped in the face says anything. But now, with this newfound information, he can also admit that you’ve certainly intrigued him, that was for sure.

Jungkook wants to see you again.

Not for a rump in the sheets, but rather a friendly conversation.

It was just his luck that he had heard through the grapevine that you had been invited to one of Jin’s small pool party get togethers. If Jungkook was being honest, he’s quite excited to be within your vicinity again but he knows he needs to keep his cool. Especially after the series of death threats and slaps on the neck from Jin. He shudders at the memory.

And so, Jungkook prepares himself more than he usually does. He wants to do it right this time. No flirty teasing, just friendly innocent conversation. He makes sure to carefully pick out the right swim shorts that display the thickness of his thighs. Not for any sexual gain, more so to show off the hours spent at the gym in hopes that maybe he can get you to become more interested in him as he is to you. He sounds desperate, and he’s sure you’re not that materialistic, but he has this nagging want to impress you somehow. He huffs and does a few pushups, for extra measure of course.

He’s not sure as to why his brain decided to make him act this way. You’re more or less a stranger to him. However, when Jungkook begins his short journey to Jin’s house he really lets himself think, which usually isn't a good idea.

Jungkook doesn’t know you, but you’ve definitely left an imprint in his mind which makes you all the more fascinating. It’s news to him that you seem to be very close to his small circle of friends which is probably thanks to your deeply rooted friendship with Jin. That new piece of information had been bugging him since the day he met up with Taehyung and Jimin. Surely his reputation couldn’t be the only reason why you’ve never met him. Right?

Parking his car in Jin’s enormous driveway, he makes his way up to the grand front door. Sometimes he wishes he could live a life like Jin. He grew up being fed with a silver spoon his whole life. Having everything paid for instead of rolling in the miseries of college student debt.

Once Jungkook makes his way into the large house, he sets down the drinks he had brought onto the kitchen counter and watches his best friends goof around and enjoy the summer sun with a warm grin. He chuckles quietly when Jin pushes Jimin and his perfectly styled hair into the pool. Jimin screams a slur of curses while Jin quickly runs beside a sleeping Yoongi for protection.

Slipping out of his loose oversized shirt, Jungkook scans the entirety of Jin’s backyard, looking for the face that has been haunting him since that fateful night. She’s not here. He reexamines the pool seeing nothing but the chaotic mess of his favourite people, and he sighs. Just as he prepares to step out into the blazing sun, the sound of his stomach growling stops him in his tracks.

Thinking about you made him nervous. So nervous that his stomach couldn’t bear the thought of breakfast. However, after the realisation that you hadn’t arrived just yet, makes him do a full one eighty, long strides taking him to Jin’s expensive fridge.

His head is already deep into the fridge when he hears the sound of the sliding door opening, revealing a dripping Jin with a small scowl on his face. It seems Jimin finally got his revenge. “I’m starving you got any leftovers?” Jungkook queries, his head popping out from the cool air of the fridge.

Jin grabs a fresh towel and whacks it against Jungkook’s naked back. “What’s the point of even asking when you’re already going through my damn fridge!” Jungkook flashes Jin an innocent grin and glows when he discovers a small bowl of Chinese takeout.

It very quickly dawns on Jungkook that in order to enjoy a nice warm meal, he would need to heat it up. His stomach all but roars, not used to the lack of food in its system and Jungkook wants to cry. He wants to cry and it's not from the angry hunger pains, but rather something extremely laughable. He has to use a fucking microwave.

You’re running late, there’s sweat running down your brow and you feel like your arms will fall off any second. The weight of snacks and alcohol you had brought making you stagger as you finally enter Jin’s enormous home.

The one and only thing that’s on your mind is the refreshing feeling of slipping into Jin’s pool while sipping on an iced beverage. This motivates you enough to put all the strength left in your exhausted being to speedily walk into the kitchen and throw everything onto the counter.

“AHH FUCK!” You flinch at the sudden scream, hugging your body protectively. Jungkook slowly pops out from behind the other side of the counter, his doe eyes big and wide. “You fucking scared me Jesus!” He exclaims, running a hand through sweaty bangs.

The air had escaped your lungs long before you could utter your next sentence as the sight before you has you freezing. There he was, Jeon Jungkook in all his glory. Tanned skin and taut muscle sculpted by the Gods. You didn’t mean to stare, but how could you not! Your eyes had a mind of their own. He’s glorious, every single part of him, and you’re not even afraid to admit it. Your eyes are quick to eat him up, tracing the art staining the whole of his right arm and you wonder what every swirl of ink means to him.

Jungkook coughs awkwardly, going in to scratch at his neck. You imagined he would tease you about your obvious ogling, but it never came. Strange. “Why were you hiding?” You ask, dropping your gaze from his body in order to arrange the snacks into neat piles, using it as an excuse to slowly step closer to him. “Oh! Uh-”, he scratches his head, looking down at his feet before jumping five feet into the air, a startled gasp leaving his lips when the timer of the microwave goes off.

You burst into laughter and Jungkook flushes in embarrassment. Jin had told you about Jungkook’s embarrassing fear of microwaves but you never thought you would see it first hand. You hold in the laughs that tickle your throat and try to settle him down by lightly touching his shoulder. He flinches at your touch.

“Are you okay?” You’re really close to him now. Your chest is practically pressed up against his and Jungkook gulps. How was it possible that you could look even more stunning than the last time he saw you? Your cheeks are glowing from the soft golden rays of the afternoon sun and the way you look up at him, your soft smile curling makes his head spin.

“Yeah, I’m good”, he breaks eye contact in embarrassment. “Sorry, just uh, microwaves are scary you know?” You giggle up at him. Is this really Jungkook? The Jungkook you’ve seen flaunting a new girl every week just to abruptly break her heart when he can’t promise anything more than sex?

You’re not complaining, he’s quite adorable like this.

You’re not too sure why his personality has the sudden switch up. It could possibly be the fact that he’s with his closest friends and doesn’t feel the need to put up his playboy persona. Although, the way he blushes when he looks at you plays a different story. Do you make him nervous? Surely not, if the memories of that heated night are anything to go by.

“So uh, are you gonna head into the pool?” His empty stomach is long forgotten as he gestures to the large backyard, you nod up at him excitedly. It’s then Jin decides to bust back into the kitchen, a stern gaze set on his face. ��Y/N, can I speak with you for a minute?” Jungkook cautiously takes a step away from you, your bodies no longer close to each other and you notice this with a small frown.

“Yeah, sure”, you relent walking over to Jin who places a protective arm around your shoulders. Unknowingly to you, Jin traps Jungkook down with a hard stare and signals Jungkook to go outside, to which he accepts with a nod.

“I know what you’re gonna say, and no I do not see him like that”, you cross your arms defensively. Jin sighs, “I just don’t wanna see you get hurt again.” He places his hands on your shoulders, full lecture mode on. “Let’s face it, you’re a hopeless romantic, I can’t trust that you won’t do something stupid, but you and Jungkook… You’re both important friends of mine and-”

You’ve heard his overprotective brotherly speech plenty of times, “I know, and I’m so thankful that you’re looking out for me. I just don’t see the harm in befriending him, you’ve never let me speak to him before.” Jin releases his hold on your shoulders to fix the mess of his wet hair, “and there's a reason for that.”

Why was he so damn hard-headed. Jin loves Jungkook like he loves his family. It just didn't make any sense to you that Jin could approve of their friendship but when it comes to you, he completely shields you away from any interactions with the so called playboy.

“When are you going to stop protecting me from boys?” Jin senses your frustration immediately. “I may be younger than you, but I’m also an adult just like you. An adult that can make her own choices.” You exhale slowly, “You’ve let me befriend your whole group and they’ve been nothing but wonderful to me, I don’t see the wrong in getting to know Jungkook.”

Jin lets his guard down. You do have a point, maybe he was being a little too overprotective. He gives you a soft smile, you look away.

“You’re right, I am in no position to dictate your decisions and who you choose to hang around with, it was wrong of me to treat you like that. Jin looks out into the pool, watching Jungkook tackle Taehyung. “I’m sorry I was a bit too harsh, Jungkook’s a good kid, he just got into the wrong crowd at first. Although, you gotta promise to tell me if he hurts you, cause he knows I’ll beat his ass.”

You laugh accepting his apology, “are you sure about that? He’s a literal muscle pig.” You both begin to make your way outside and Jin shoves you slightly, “hey! You know I’m right.” Jin shakes his head and brings you into a comforting hug. “Yeah, yeah whatever.” He rolls his eyes, you beam up at him and together you walk out into the warm sunlight.

It hadn’t even been a second since you stepped outside, and already Yoongi’s long term girlfriend, Jieun is squealing your way. “Y/N! I’m so happy you're finally here, the amount of testosterone out here was starting to make me feel faint.” You giggle at her exasperated tone, pulling her into a tight hug.

Nonchalantly you peel off your flowy sundress, it’s stickiness from your sweat making you cringe. “I missed you last week, why didn’t you come to class?” Jiuen pouts, “I'm sorry bub, I somehow caught a cold, but I trust you have some notes for me.”

The way Jieun flutters her lashes at you innocently forces a roll from your eyes. Slathering sunscreen onto your arms, you reprimand her, “I swear you’re only using me for my notes, you literally never listen in class! Can you get my back please?”

She hums while you turn around, her small hands kneading sunscreen from your shoulder bones to the small dip in your back. Jieun continues to blabber on about the joys of life, not even checking if you’re listening to a single word she says. Instead your eyes are zeroed in on a certain someone.

Your staring is blatantly obvious but you don’t care. It’s only when Taehyung spots your burning gaze with a small smirk does he signal Jungkook to turn around to meet your flirty grin.

Holy shit

The sun does a real great job of highlighting the gorgeous curves of your body adorned in quite possibly the smallest baby blue bikini he’s seen on a woman. Your breasts practically spill out of the tiny triangle cups and the pretty colour compliments your skin beautifully.

Whilst Jungkook can admit you have one of the hottest bodies he’s seen in a while, his eyes surprisingly don't linger on your delicious curves for too long. Instead, he finds himself utterly enamoured by the way your eyes crinkle slightly when you smile prettily at him, your cheeks glowing with it.

It suddenly dawns on him that you are the first girl that has truly enchanted him, and no, your ridiculously gorgeous body had little to do with it.

Jungkook does not mind this change one bit.

So, instead of staring at you like a gaping goldfish, he matches your flirtatious body language with a boyish grin and a small wave. His previous nerves dissipating only to be replaced by confidence and polished charm. He doesn’t want to scare you off with his sudden look of epiphany just yet, but the new unfamiliar feeling you give him is surely doing exactly that.

“My, my, Yoongi wasn’t lying.” Jieun stifles a giggle when she notices how Jungkook’s attention has steered towards you and only you. You’re quick to turn around, brows furrowed. “What are you on about?”

“Oh you know… You and Jungkook”

You grimace, tired of the repeated topic of conversation. “Just because I sucked his dick once does not mean we're a thing”

“Oh really? He’s asked me an awful lot of questions about you I was beginning to think otherwise”

“Wait, really?”

Jieun has the widest cheshire grin plastered on her face, it's starting to look quite unsettling.

“Really.”

You’re thoroughly shocked to say the least. You thought your fast, fleeting blowjob, sort of, was nothing special. A usual escapade to get his daily fill. Ordinary. Unmemorable.

However, it seems to be quite the opposite.

Jieun grabs your hand and swings it back and forth, exactly like a mother would do, although she’s merely two years older than you. “I know Jin’s been up your ass about Jungkook and frankly I don’t blame him he’s still a little shit from time to time but, he’s actually quite fun to be around and honestly I think his playboy tendencies seemed to dial down a bit since he met us.” The two of you giggle quietly amongst each other, quick feet making your way closer to the pool to avoid the scorching pavement.

Your toes are the first to dip into the pool and you practically moan at the cold water melting away the blistering haze that sticks onto your skin. The water is icy at your waist and you love it. “So my advice would be not to worry about him, instead it's his little army of plastic bimbos that you should watch out for.”

“Ahh, internalised misogyny. We love to see it.”

Jieun acknowledges you with a hum as the two of you float around the calming abyss. She then swims closer to you, nodding her head into the direction of a lonely Jungkook, who lazily stares at your alluring form. “I think your loverboy over there wants to talk to you.”

Jieun swims away before you can protest, leaving you to face the handsome man before you. His eyes are round and docile, yet his stare is tantalising, it pulls you in as if he’s slowly reeling you in with a rope.

The water delicately ripples around your body when you approach him and you internally sigh in awe at the striking features of his stunning face. You want to use this opportunity to finally get to know him, and perhaps form a new friendship.

You take note of the lack of Jin’s hawk-like eyes or for better the lack of any eyes on the two of you. You’re alone, huddled into one of the far corners of the pool, your conversation private, just for two pairs of ears.

You open your mouth to speak, “So-”

“I-”

An uncomfortable silence stills the air and you both halt your words to giggle quietly amongst yourselves. God, this is awkward.

“You go first”, You offer, tucking a wet strand of hair behind your ear. Jungkook follows the subtle movement of your fingers before taking a deep breath.

“I feel like we should discuss the elephant in the room”

You're stunned. “Huh?”

“You know… That Friday night?”

Of course you knew what he was referring too, yet you wondered why as you honestly didn’t think that night had much impact on the man.

With a raised brow you ask, “What about it?”

“I’ve just had a lot of... thoughts”

You scratch your head feeling puzzled. You’re sure Jungkook has had better blowjobs in his lifetime. Hell, Jungkook did most of the work that night. “Do you usually discuss the past hookups you have, or am I just lucky today?”

You’re teasing him, nevertheless Jungkook tilts his head back towards the sky. All he wants is clarification, only this conversation is heading down an awkward path, so he decides to spit out what’s been bothering him for the past few days.

“Okay listen, I know this is odd to say, but ever since that night, It’s like I can’t get you out of my head.”

Your ego inflates at his statement and you smirk. You knew you could suck dick well, but according to Jungkook you seem to have quite the talent.

You smile proudly, “damn, look at me go, I can’t believe I have the campus playboy wrapped around my finger.”

Jungkook scoffs, both in annoyance and embarrassment because shit, he could have worded that differently, now he sounds like the clingy girls he fucks.

“Yeah, yeah let’s not pretend like I was the only one enjoying myself here. Weren’t you the one practically begging to be touched?”

You’re amused. “Weren’t you the one who couldn’t make me cum. Yet came from their own handjob?”

Jungkook tongues his cheek and looks away. The way you speak so casually intimidates him. No girl has ever spoken to him this way, in fact, Jungkook’s the one who usually likes to tease. He can slowly feel the creeping heat alighting his cheeks and God does he hope you don’t notice.

You patiently wait for Jungkook’s reply, a sly grin adorned on your pretty face. However, Jungkook doesn’t say anything, rather he frowns and immaturely splashes water at your face.

“Jungkook!” You sputter, wiping at your face to rid of the chlorine in your eyes. “What the fuck was that for?”

He shrugs, “sorry my hand must’ve slipped”

You don’t take that for an answer, your petty nature crawling out as you splash him back harder than he had done. “Hand slipped, my ass.”

You cross your arms smugly, a small laugh blossoming out of your mouth when Jungkook cutely rubs at his eyes.

It’s after a minute when you realise Jungkook hasn’t stopped furiously rubbing his eyes. The circular motions of his hand move so intensely that it begins to look painful and irritating. “Fuck, it stings”, he exclaims in agony.

Shit, you inwardly curse, gently touching his wrist, concern lacing your features because you didn’t think getting chlorinated water in one's eye would sting that much. You analyse his facial expressions closely and you wince at the redness surrounding his eyes from his harsh rubbing.

On the contrary, Jungkook knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s competitive and won’t back down from a fight, even if it’s just fun banter, so he continues his little scheme just for the fun of it and hides his small grin under his large hands.

You’re now slightly panicked, “fuck, Jungkook I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hit the water that hard I-”

Jungkook cracks.

Ever so slowly, he peeps his eyes out at you and watches with a mischievous smirk as your face morphs from alarmed to annoyed in less than a millisecond.

You tighten your grip on his wrist and attempt to slap his hard chest with your free hand, however Jungkook’s reflexes are fast and he grasps your hand tightly, a teasing glint in his eye.

“You little shit-”

All of a sudden a loud holler is heard from the front door, rousing a relaxed Jin out of his chair as he sprints while simultaneously yelling at the ruckus being made. It’s then a stampede of both familiar and unfamiliar faces come crashing in. Some jump straight into the pool to cool off from the blazing sun while others rush to the table of assorted alcohol, desperate to get an ounce of it in their system.

Word seemed to go around about Jin’s supposed small get-together unbelievably fast, causing the once tranquil Kim Seokjin into a raging volcano.

You’re pressed right up against Jungkook’s solid chest and he surprisingly pays you no mind, even though your perky tits are deliciously pushed up perfectly against his body. Jungkook’s eyes are not settled on them, rather he pays close attention to the amount of people dangerously plunging into the pool at a fast rate.

Jungkook protectively hugs your shoulders to shield you from the rowdy party goers who definitely do not understand the definition of personal space. Your heart swells when he then delicately places your head in the crook of his neck and wraps an arm around your fairly exposed body, essentially guarding you from frantic wet limbs and ignorant individuals.

You feel comfortable and safe, so comfortable that you wouldn’t mind staying like this for a while if it weren’t for the throng of college students delving into the cooling water.

Jin’s house begins to fill with unexpected guests very quickly and you wonder how Jin is handling the situation. You suppose not very well when you see him whipping people with towels, red ears making an appearance and his booming voice following him.

Jungkook wants to get out and he’s sure you feel the same way which is why he smoothly slots his hand into your own, long fingers wrapping around your hand to carefully pull you through the growing crowd of people in the pool.

Whilst pushing past a variety of college students you are met with many stares, even worse, numerous envious eyes and whispers of possible gossip. You try your best to avoid their gazes, the hard stares reminding you of the last time Jungkook held your hand to push through groups of people.

Water drips down the curves of your body and lands in little pools around you when you step out of the pool. At this point you’ve garnered even more turning heads that examine every inch of your skin closely. Their stares itch your skin and you feel akin to an animal kept in a zoo enclosure, curious eyes breaking down your confidence, you want to hide.

You usually like to pride yourself on your confidence because you know you’re hot and you know your worth. It had taken many failed relationships to build up your self love and nourish the scars and memories of questioning if you’re good enough.

You fight on and squeeze Jungkook’s hand, mostly for some sort of reassurance. It shocks you when he astonishingly squeezes back and softly rubs his thumb over the back of your hand. It’s almost as if he knows how you’re feeling.

You glance up at him shyly. Jungkook keeps his eyes straight ahead. He smiles a different kind of smile than the one he had directed to you a few hours ago. His lips are in a permanent smug smirk. His usual playboy smile. He flashes it at everyone as if he’s asking for their approval and even goes in to high-five a few people who are unrecognisable to you. You soon realise that this is what Jungkook thrives on. People, validation and his notorious reputation he’s created for himself.

Jungkook lights up at the presence of crowds, flirty smiles and people calling his name, whereas you want to crawl into your skin and run away because from the perspective of outsiders it looks like you’re just another one of Jungkook’s flings that will soon be forgotten by next week.

Well, you hope you won’t turn out to be one of them.

At last you find yourself away from the heart of the party, your dress in hand but your body still wet nonetheless. Jungkook is in the same state as yourself, droplets of water dribbling from his dark hair and onto the timber flooring. He leans into your ear, “I’ll go get us some towels, stay here.”

He’s gone before you can reply, making small conversation when he passes by various people, his boisterous laugh echoing down the halls.

You’re alone now, and defenceless at that. There’s not many people you know here, besides the few odd people you share a class with and some sleazy frat boys that hold a similar reputation to Jungkook. You want to find Jieun so you can hug her or maybe ask her if she can take you home, but she is nowhere to be found.

Fuck, You remember leaving your bag on the kitchen table, unsupervised with many personal belongings stowed away inside. Using your dress to cover the most of your exposed skin like a blanket, you stride over to the kitchen and sigh in relief when you find your bag untouched and in perfect condition.

Snatching up your bag, you grab your phone and immediately text Jieun to find out where the fuck she’s hiding, but there’s a part of you that knows she’s probably fucking Yoongi somewhere. Traitor.

Jungkook finds you to be in a completely different part of the house than where he asked you, one towel wrapped around his neck and the other draped over his arm. You haven’t noticed him yet, your frantic fingers texting a treacherous Jieun, “princess, didn’t I tell you to stay put?”

You’re startled. Switching your phone off you stick your arm out, waiting for Jungkook to pass you the towel but he doesn't. Jungkook gently pushes your shoulders so that you turn away from him and carefully wraps the towel around your body like a cape. You hold the edges of the fabric to help him hug the towel around yourself, keeping it tighter to your body.

Your voice is quiet, “thank you.”

Jungkook leans down to meet your face, “What was that?”

Even though Jungkook had been in the pool longer than you, his cologne still sticks to his skin and you kind of want to breathe more of it in, but that would be weird.

“Oh, I said thank you.”

You’re close to him again, although this time he towers over you with a look almost identical to a predator meeting its prey.

Jungkook’s eyes flirt around your face and descend. He shamelessly drinks up the swell of your breasts and whatever skin is visible amidst the fluffy towel around you. It’s strange. You had noticed Jungkook doing the exact same thing when you were alone with him. The difference though was that his looks were cursory as if he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Now, It's like a new persona had taken over him and he was ready to pounce at any sign of a green light.

He’s stuck in a trance, fuckboy tinted glasses fogging his vision.

You force out a giggle and playfully shove his shoulder, “my eyes are up here, you know.”

His reply comes lighting fast, he’s definitely been in this position before. “I know, just admiring them.”

Jungkook wants to hit himself the second his reply spewed out of his mouth. He desperately wants to reassure your unimpressed (though also very cute) face, because goddammit he wanted to be respectful. Jungkook knows he has a tendency to slip into a new personality when the right amount of people hyped him. Call it being two faced, he knows it's one of his fatal flaws.

“I'm sorry.”

He says it genuinely.

Jungkook only just got to properly meet you, he doesn’t want to give you the wrong impression! He can admit, your first ever official meeting (moreso hookup) wasn’t ideal, yet the way Jin dragged him through the mud undoubtedly made him understand that you weren’t the type of woman that should ever undergo the treatment he puts his hookups through. Scratch that, any woman shouldn’t be treated the way Jungkook treats them.

You're now fully covered under the towel, not a sliver of skin on display. You don’t know if his apology was genuine. “It’s ok I guess, I expected nothing less from you anyways.”

“Right.” He’s messed up.

You clear your throat, “I’m gonna go get changed, maybe look for Jieun unless-”

Jungkook finishes your sentence, “-she’s fucking Yoongi.”

You exhale, “yeah.”

“Jeon Jungkook!”

The voice makes you halt at its familiar tone. Jungkook doesn’t notice your growing panic as he too freezes in his spot.

No, it can’t be.

The world plays in slow motion when he walks into your line of vision. His assertive stride, smug smile and sharp eyes.

Jeong Suho.

His name explodes inside of you like a blistering fire yet your heart feels ice cold. He is the very man you have spent weeks trying to avoid and even more trying to get out of your head.

The world plays at a normal speed when he approaches Jungkook. Their facial expressions are the same, the way they greet each other is the same. They’re practically the same breed of fuckboy, born from the same mother.

“Been awhile since I’ve seen you around.”

Jeong Suho was a person that Jungkook didn’t really mind, In fact there was a point in Jungkook’s life where he would’ve considered Suho to be one of his closest friends. They were two peas in a pod freshmen year of college. Never giving a fuck about their education and always present for any opportunity to get completely wasted with as many girls they could possibly seduce. Nowadays, Jungkook would rather keep his distance from him.

On the contrary, you were one of the many girls that had fallen deeply for Suho’s alluring charm. You fell so hard, you thought that maybe just maybe there was a possibility that you could secure a future with him. Obviously that was not the case.

You thank your lucky stars that Jungkook was there to distract Suho while you make your haste escape. All you need to do now is somehow locate an unoccupied bathroom, preferably without having to walk in on someone getting it on, and then you could get the hell out of there.

You must admit, you look quite ridiculous right now. Navy blue towel wrapped tightly around your body, your small head peeking through. You could probably pass as some form of E.T cosplay right now. You don’t care if you look rude, pushing and shoving whoever stands in your way. You only have one goal and you’re so so close to succeeding-

“Wait, Y/N! Is that you?”

Fuck.

Do you run? Maybe duck behind some poor innocent student looking for a good time? You huff, you're already sticking out like a sore thumb, there’s no use in trying to hide when the enemy has already spotted you. Even worse Jungkook motions you over with a wide gleaming smile. If only he knew how much you’re dreading this interaction.

Grudgingly, you walk over, looking like an irritated gremlin with your towel still firmly secured around you. Jungkook makes matters worse by pushing the towel off your head, releasing your scruffy ball of hair. You grimace.

“I didn’t know you knew Y/N?”

Suho sends a smirk your way. You however, glower.

“Yeah we go way back, don’t we baby?”

You force a tight lipped smile, howbeit you look as if you have a mild case of constipation.

“Sure.” It comes out rough through gritted teeth.

Suho notes your frustration, a sly grin carving onto his punchable face. He turns towards Jungkook, seemingly blocking you from their conversation, yet you know Suho wants you to hear what he has to say.

“You know it’s a shame. Y/N’s gorgeous, ten outta ten body, knows how to put it to good use, however she never let me fuck her. Don’t you think that’s weird?”

Jungkook stays silent for a minute, eyeing your shaking fists and angry eyebrows. Jungkook may be dumb, but he sure knows how to read a room, thus leading him to the conclusion that your relationship with Suho isn’t something you’re very fond of and that he should probably get you out of here.

“Uhhh no, that’s not weird at all actually. What I think is weird is the fact that you think you have this sick claim on every girl you’ve defiled and even worse, you’ve always had this strange need to chase after every virgin you see like some perverted cherry picker. Yeah, that’s weird.”

Suho laughs right in his face, spit grossly tickling his skin. “That’s rich coming from you Jeon, weren't you quite the cherry picker in your freshman days, no?”

Jungkook doesn’t know what he expected from this conversation. It definitely wasn’t this.

It's obvious that Jungkook isn’t a saint, he really fucking far from it. Although, one thing's for sure, it’s his absolute hatred for the way his brain was wired in his freshman year of college. Yes, Jungkook still remains as one of the standing campus fuckboys but he’s gained a few more brain cells since then.

Jungkook opens his mouth to retort, only to be met with Suho’s back as he turns his attention towards you.

“Y/N, darling if I were you i’d make a run for it, ya know keep your chastity intact or whatever.” His smile is saccharine sweet, though his words are sickly sour.

The months of pent up anger stored within your being bubbles and overflows like a bad science experiment. You’ve quickly decided that now’s that time to expose the shitty excuse of a man, and quite frankly you don’t care that you have an audience. Actually, an audience would make this all the better.

Your finger is strong, pointing accusingly at his broad chest. “You know what you stupid motherfucker? Don’t waltz in here with that dumb smile of yours when you know you have some disgusting cheesy infection growing down there.”

Suho’s eyes widen slightly. It was no secret he was a walking STD, just about infecting every girl that was naive enough to sit on his dick.

Everyone at the party has definitely stopped to listen to what you have to say. You even spot Jin from the corner of your eye sending you a proud smile. “And while we're on the topic of cheese, Learn how to wash your fucking dick!”

You don’t let him have a moment to speak, grabbing Jungkook’s hand and pulling him out of the house.

A few people applaud, some girls praise you on your way out. You give them no mind, you’ve had enough for tonight.

Jungkook starts his car, no questions asked. It’s obvious to him that there’s bad blood between you and Suho. What you don’t know is that Jungkook can also relate.

Technically there was no bad blood between them, moreso the hurtful memories and manipulation Suho put him through. To put it simply, Suho was probably the worst influence Jungkook could ever have as a vunerable freshman.

The crunch of gravel and soft melodies that spill out of Jungkook’s radio converse with eachother and fill the defeaning silence that sits between you and Jungkook.

Jungkook doesn’t even know where he’s going, he just drives.

Every so often he checks up on you from the corner of his eye. Your knees stick tightly together and point away from him. Your fingers curl and uncurl, leaving cresent moons in your skin. And to finish it off, your face remains still, hostility completely washing over your features. If Jungkook didn’t know any better he would think you’d jump out of his car and make a run for it at the chance of him stopping the car.

It’s seven sniffles later when Jungkook decides he knows where he should take you.

The night sky is clear and the stars burn brightly to accompany the full round moon. It’s the perfect setting for release and maybe a screaming session if you’re up for it.

Jungkook makes a stop behind a forest of tall trees and a dirt path. You sit up immediately.

“Where are we?” Your eyes are rimmed with tears, “I want to go home.”

Jungkook shuts the engine off, “you never told me where you live.”

“Well you never asked!”

Maybe you shouldn’t have yelled because from the looks of it, Jungkook just wants to help you out and clearly you’re not being the friendliest right now.

You curl back into yourself, “sorry”, another sniffle.

Jungkook brings your fists into his hands and warmly opens them up. You refuse to look at him, it doesn’t deter Jungkook one bit.

Tenderly he brings a finger under your chin, gradually bringing your eyes up to his. Jungkook takes his time with you, careful to not set you off until you’re face to face with his warm eyes.

“I brought you here because it’s apparent we both need let out some pent up steam.” He drags his fingers delicately across the curve of your chin and back into his lap. His touch is fleeting, you miss it already. “I just thought you may want to vent or just shout out into the void, it’s up to you.” You nod, fully trusting Jungkook’s intentions. “And at any time you feel like going home just say the word and I’ll take you there, okay?”

Your heart swells in adoration at his caring nature, though you can’t help but wonder how he can have such a sudden change in personality depending on where he is and who he’s with. It’s unnerving.

Jungkook clicks his seatbelt off and heads out the car, “put your dress back on princess, I’ll be out here waiting for you.” You mutter your confirmation and do as he asks.

The cool summer air kisses your skin and runs through your hair as you step out of the car. Jungkook is already by your side dressed in an oversize hoodie with another in his hand as well as a fuzzy blanket.

Jungkook steps closer to you, holding the hem of his hoodie to slip over your body. Without a second thought you raise your hands causing Jungkook to chuckle at how cute you look dwarfed in his clothes.

The same cologne you smelled on his skin earlier lingers on every fibre of fabric around you. His scent is everywhere, swirling around your head, instantly calming down your anxieties. You smile at him, “Lead the way Jungkook.”

Jungkook leads you up a small hill and you notice the trees opening up to display a lush field of grass. However, the sight before you leaves you in absolute wonder. You stand completely still and take it all in.

The night sky is dark but the city below illuminates is beautifully. Your gaze bounces over all the buildings, skyscrapers and their dazzling bright lights. It’s peaceful up here, you decide as you take a glimpse of the hundreds of tall structures looking so tiny, so ant-like.

Jungkook is settled behind you, his legs comfortably folded underneath himself. He remembers what it was like the first time he saw the view, which is why he doesn’t blame your stunned silence and glazed eyes.

“How did you find this place?”

You find your way towards Jungkook and plant yourself right beside him. “I don’t know, I was just driving aimlessly one night and found it, It’s nice right.”

You hum, “it’s beautiful.”

Jungkook murmurs in agreement as you lie down on the woolly blanket beneath you. The stars twinkle and glimmer amongst the deep blue sky, creating a serene experience. You shut your eyes.

“I hate him.”

Jungkook looks down at you, you don’t see him though. “Suho?”

“Yeah”, you exhale deeply, “I can’t believe I had to see him again.”

Although Jungkook knows you can’t see him, he swivels his body around to face you properly. “Did you guys date or something?”

You scoff, “pffft you know Suho doesn’t date anyone.” You open your eyes, meeting a pair of round docile ones. You continue, “Suho was the first guy who every gave me an ounce of attention. Before him guys never looked my way. Jungkook remains silent, letting you pour out what’s on your mind.

“Suho had me fooled, I thought I was special to him, thought he saw something in me that was different from the others. Turns out that was his game after all”

You speak so animatedly, your hands wave around in the air, your eyebrows scrunch when the memories come back to you. “It’s stupid really, how I used to gush to him about finding the one person in the universe that was created just for me. I guess he used this as my weak point.”

Inhale, exhale.

“He made me believe he was that special person for me, used it as an excuse to pressure me into sex.” A tear rolls down the side of your face, falling perfectly in a straight line. “I almost gave in, but something just felt so wrong. Every time I said no he would call me terrible names, tell me that no one would want me if I never gave them what they wanted. And I believed him.”

Another tear escapes your wet orbs, Jungkook is there to wipe it this time.

“I broke it off after I found out he fucked my roommate and gave her some disease.” You chuckle, “I guess I’m lucky I never let him fuck me huh?”

Jungkook’s heart breaks at your saddened eyes and the way Suho treated you, he sweeps a stray hair out of you face. “I think you dodged a bullet there princess, what he did to you was pure evil, no one, and especially you don’t deserve that”

You sit up, wiping remaining tears and thanking him as you go, “It’s your turn now.” You pat his thigh, “tell me why Suho got you so riled up tonight.”

Jungkook shuffles in his spot, “It’s actually kind of similar to you.”

You gasp sarcastically, “no way he pressured you into sex too?”

He laughs, eyes squeezing shut, “No, no, nothing like that.”

You lean closer to Jungkook, giving him the same attention he had given you. “My father left when my mother found out she was pregnant with me, so growing up I had no male figure present in my life. My mother stopped at nothing to give me that to the point that almost every week I’d wake up and see a new man drinking out of my favourite mug. I didn’t mind it because I was only a child and some part of me always hoped they would stay, but they never did.”

“My mom was a hopeless romantic. She held so much sentimental and idealistic views on love that it stuck to me. She always told me that there was someone special out there just for me.” You smile at the similar belief, Jungkook sighs.

“Cut to college, Suho was the first friend I made. I had no experience with girls whatsoever, and I still held on to my mother’s faith. Whenever I talked to Suho about it he would always shut me down or make fun of me.”

“He told me that all my feelings are bullshit, and that I only felt that way because I’ve never hooked up with anyone before. Next thing I knew we were going to parties every week getting absolutely shitfaced and fucking every girl I laid eyes on.”

You nod, listening intently. “And tonight, he hit a nerve. What he said made me realise that I’m just as bad as him. He moulded me into this person and now I have a reputation.”

Jungkook’s eyes drop, “he broke my concept of love before I even got to experience it.”

You never knew Jungkook was in a place like this. You always thought he was like Suho, built to break hearts and show no emotion when it came to love. Jungkook was nothing like that. His heart was truly big, desperately longing for someone.

Placing your hand on top of his own you comfort him as best as you can, “oh, Jungkook, trust me when I tell you this, the love in your heart is not broken. Think about it, most people you’ve met have been through college right?” He nods, “there are so many other people out there that you’ve never met, soon you’ll be able to find that someone and learn how to love. I know you present yourself as this emotionless playboy, but once you let that part of you go it’ll feel so freeing.”

Jungkook stares deeply into your eyes, he’s so thankful that he decided to bring you here, he can’t contain his happiness.

“Can I like, hug you?” Jungkook asks shyly. You smile, and it’s so big and bright Jungkook might as well be staring at the sun. Before he knows it, you’re tackling him into the most wholesome hug he’s ever had. You’re warm and you smell like vanilla, It feels like home.

“Get up”, he says abruptly, extending his arm to pull up your confused self.

“What-”, Jungkook cuts you off, “have you ever just let yourself scream?”

Jungkook has intertwined your hands together, and your heart pounds at the realisation of how well they fit together. “Well, no but I assume that’s what we’re about to do right now.”

He pulls you closer to the edge of the small hill, the view of the city sparkles right in front of you. “On the count of three, one- two- three!”

You scream, you let it all out and God does it feel refreshing.

The two of you sound utterly insane, but none you give a single fuck. You scream until your lungs burn and your throat itches you to stop.

The volume of both of your voices ring out into the night sky only for the moon, stars and yourselves. The night is still young but Jungkook wouldn’t have it any other way.

With you he lets go of everything, all the past mistakes, all the hurt because at this moment he feels like he could fly, soar into the clouds.

He feels infinite.

Taglist <3

@zibermuda @uskookie @jeonscandies @melaninkpops @apollukee @hollowtree10 @liliskies @madygswich @pjmochii @eggbutnotyolk @gyukult @yukiehyukie @purplepearl07 (couldn’t tag) @tae165 @youurkryptonite @94ser0da @french-myfries @zippytheshark37 (couldn’t tag) @we8joon @tearvantae @emrysts @inspinkyring

#ficswithluv #h0neypjm #mine #jungkook #Jungkook Fanfiction #jungkook smut #bts #bts fanfiction #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #jimin #taehyung #hoseok #seokjin #yoongi #namjoon

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taechaos · 4 years ago

Text

Silent Treatment

from Textbook Love drabble series

pairing: bully!Jungkook x nerdy!fem!Reader

genre: drabble, smut, college au

synopsis: Why did you reject him? He’s consumed by his thoughts and theories of your behavior because you didn’t say a single word to him. If your actions were anything to go by, which apparently speak louder than words, you didn’t even want him to touch you.

warnings: slight angst, drugs, arguing, dubcon, cunnilingus, mild degredation

word count: 4.2k

tags: @mwitsmejk @1-in-abillion @kooookie

a/n: the request (contains some spoilers). i'm gonna take a very short break from this couple to write other requests!! hope u enjoy 💗

The shift in the Spring weather is unpredictable. One moment it’s chilly, and the other sunny. Humans can only adapt so much, and it causes an outbreak of common colds. Most people recover easily, handy medicine soothing their sore throats, syrups suppressing coughs, and nose sprays ridding the blockage. You, on the other hand, are not that lucky. With a weak immune system, you’re very careful to not get sick, but there must have been a slip-up because you’ve somehow lost your voice after catching a cold.

You sniffle and cough, but you can’t speak. It’s advised to not exert your vocal cords in cases like these, and that is just so unfortunate for you. The last thing you’d ever want to do is spread your sickness to Jungkook, and that meant not getting too close to him; it meant no kissing.

A very large white placard is spread out in front of you on the wooden table, and you’re plastering printed images of a specific global issue on it. You’re sitting on a bench with two of your friends as they chatter mindlessly while you work. Jungkook has a project about climate change due in a few days, and it’s supposed to be very important for his final grade. You’ve already written him a script for his presentation along with a stick prop to point at specific pictures. It’s fun, glittery and he’s going to love it.

“Hey,” Minnie, your friend, calls for you, “we’re going to get some coffee from Starbucks. Want us to get you green tea?”

Soyeon laughs when your eyes light up; it’s your favorite beverage, and it’s supposed to help with your sore throat. They leave with a smile after you give them a hyper nod and you’re alone as you adjust your woolen scarf around your neck. You need to heal as fast as you can so you’re no longer missing your beloved’s affection.

Jungkook has been feeling more inclined to approach you without reason lately, but that doesn’t mean it’s a common occurrence. Getting teased by his friend, specifically Taehyung, about having a sissy crush on a girl like yourself angered him to no end. A hit always got him to shut up, but not for long. He’s walking your way today because there’s no one around to judge him for talking to you.

You’re tearing a double-sided tape when he sits on your table, carefully avoiding your materials. Your breath hitches as his eyes gloss over your work in progress. “Working hard, I see,” he comments with disinterest. He doesn’t say anything about your efforts, but he’s impressed. The corner of his lip tugs upwards before he leans in for a kiss. You have enough self-control and concern for his well-being over your desires to lean back before your lips make contact. His face is close to yours as he pauses and slightly frowns before trying again. He receives the same results and finally pulls back.

“You did well,” he frowns at you and speaks as if you’re a child, “I’m praising you.” Your eyes are darting back and forth awkwardly and you don’t know what to do other than sit in silence. You put your hands on his knees as a resort and his frown deepens as he watches you. “I can take a hint, you know. You don’t have to fucking ignore me.” He roughly shoves your hands and stands up before storming off with a scoff. You’re torn between following him and being responsible over your belongings. You can’t let his grades go to waste because of a small misunderstanding, so you decide to text him instead. There’s always a possibility someone might steal his project. Or maybe after he’s cooled off? You delay the message, but somewhere in your heart, you’re satisfied by his reaction because it’s clear that he wanted to kiss you.

Heavy footsteps clomp against the sidewalk before Jungkook slumps on the seat next to Taehyung. It’s an isolated area for smoking students at the back of the campus, and his friend group is no exception to this role. They’re taking drags of cigarettes individually as Jungkook glares at his boots. They’re chunky and a bold black, and his dark outfit paints him as the big bad wolf. It fits, because he’s ready to attack when he’s filled with so much resentment. Why did you reject him? He’s consumed by his thoughts and theories of your behavior because you didn’t say a single word to him. If your actions were anything to go by, which apparently speak louder than words, you didn’t even want him to touch you. It doesn’t make sense, but you also grimaced at him, but then why were you doing his homework? He’s feeling frustrated, and upset all the same.

“Someone’s troubled,” Seokjin points out with a mouthful of smoke. “Kookie?”

Said boy only grunts in response.

“Did the lousy girl finally see you for who you really are and leave you?” Taehyung doesn’t hesitate to mock him with a pout. “Tragic.”

“Shut the fuck up, Tae,” Jungkook spits and sends him a death glare, fire flaming in his fierce eyes. “Go actually talk to a girl or something, and leave me alone. I can’t take your shit right now.”

The low blow doesn’t affect Taehyung in the slightest as he holds up his hands in defence with comically wide eyes. “Relax, tiger.”

“Moving on from Tae’s inability to talk to girls in broad daylight, what’s up with you Kook?” Namjoon butts in, earning a fake cough from the receiving end of the insult.

He pauses for a moment before babbling, “I hate those bitches. My mother for one, couldn’t stand wearing clothes whenever she saw a dude. Moving on from guy to guy, unless they’re a fucking asshole. What do they want? Why are they never fucking satisfied?!”

A moment of silence passes among the huddled friends before Yoongi breaks it with a joke, “Who’s the lucky girl?” It doesn’t land as Jungkook deeply sighs in response. “Did she cheat on you?” he tries again.

“No,” he murmurs.

“Then…?”

“She… I don’t fucking know, she gave me the silent treatment. She leaned away from me too,” he shakes his head with a quiet groan, “it just doesn’t add up. I got mad and left.”

“No way that could’ve ended up badly,” Taehyung chuckles but purses his lips when he’s sent another dirty look. “How long was the interaction anyway?”

“Like 30 seconds.”

“Are you coming out tonight?” Yoongi asks and puts out the burning tip of his stick. “Could help you feel better.”

“And we’ve got molly,” Namjoon adds.

“Yeah, fine, whatever.”

Alcohol’s effect on a person differs in moods, and Jungkook is usually a horny drunk. Being a sad drunk is a first for him tonight, but he’s just so confused. It made his heart drop when you outwardly refused his advances and anxiety blossomed in his chest, which he has no idea how to deal with. It kicked in fight or flight instincts, and he just… hated the idea of you not loving him, even if it’s momentary. He can’t bear staying in a situation that makes him feel so insecure, and that feeling is supposed to be left in his childhood. You just about brought out the worst in him without doing anything.

You didn’t do anything.

It’s 10PM and he’s waiting on your usual good night text that he never responds to. It’s so pathetic, and he hates himself for being so used to your affection that it worries him when he’s deprived of it. He’s never doubted your love for him, but his insecurities are churning his gut. It’s an overflow of all of his pent-up emotions, and he can’t handle it.

“Here,” Taehyung pops in out of nowhere, clutching a pill in his hand. There’s a bottle of water in the other as he holds them out for Jungkook to take. “Stop moping and get laid.”

“I’d say the same to you, but you’d probably start crying during sex,” he mumbles and uncaps the bottle before throwing in the pill and washing it down with the water. “Thanks.”

“See that girl over there?” he ignores him and steps behind his miserable friend to point at the owner of the sultry gaze directed at Jungkook from the bar. “She wants to fuck you. Or maybe me, but I’m passing her onto you.”

“How kind of you,” he sarcastically replies.

“Uh-uh, so you’re gonna be in ecstasy in about 10 minutes. Don’t fuck this up.” He slaps his shoulder before disappearing into the kitchen. It’s a lonesome party because not a lot of people are allowed in when drugs are involved. Causing a ruckus, receiving a noise complaint and then getting arrested is out of the question.

He isn’t interested in sex with a stranger - not today at least -, but he hopes for it to change as he waits to approach her. Maybe drugs will rile him up enough to have fun with someone else and rid his mind of you. It’s an annoying itch on his brain, so he rests his head against the couch to comfort himself with the soft fabric. He’s sleepy from the beer he drank earlier, and he doesn’t know how time goes by so fast when he closes his eyes.

A few minutes must have passed, because he’s starting to feel dizzy in his seat. A smile carves on his face as his mind grows slightly fogged, and he opens his eyes to find the girl quietly chatting with a friend. When she glances at him, he beckons her to come over. She mouths a “be right back” to her friend before strutting in his direction.

“Hey,” she smiles down at him before sitting on the couch. She’s aristocratic, chic and pretty. “Sorry if I weirded you out earlier.” Her voice is sweet like honey, and her words flow out of her tongue so naturally. A dream girl, really, and Jungkook is starting to get horny.

“I don’t mind,” he reassures with a subtle seductive tone, “what’s a girl like you doing with this crowd? You look too innocent.” He wraps a finger around a strand of her hair and twirls it. It feels strange.

“My friend sent me here, told me to watch over someone,” she lowly speaks. “I’m Soyeon.”

“Nice to meet you, Soyeon,” he breathes before crashing her lips with his. His hand reaches down to grip her thigh, tongue poking out to swipe the sticky gloss. It’s flavored, and it tastes of strawberry. When she kisses him back so slowly, innocently, it turns him on so much. His pants feel tight around his crotch as he runs another hand through her soft hair. Compared to him, she’s passionate whereas he’s sloppy. He’s starting to get dizzier, and it feels so fucking good, but he hates it.

There is not a single reason for him to not enjoy this, not when his mood is lifting so high. The hand on her thigh lands on her cleavage instead and she’s so submissive and shy, but something’s off. He groans into her mouth before biting her lip, ripping a whine out of her. Why does she sound so sexy and annoying?

He pulls away from her before sighing in irritation. “Fuck, I can’t do this.”

“Did I do something wrong?” she asks worriedly.

“No, just, fuck.” He starts laughing before rubbing his palms on his eyes, “I really want to fuck, but I just can’t.”

“We can just chat,” she softly suggests. “What’s your name?”

“Jungkook.”

He removes his hands from his face when she goes silent. Her eyes are wide and she’s gaping at him… guiltily? “Crap,” she hisses quietly, “I was supposed to make sure you were okay. My roommate is like, super in love with you and asked me to come here.”

He says your name in a question, wondering if it’s you. When she nods, he asks for your dorm instantly.

“She’s in room 124… Why?”

When he stands up, there’s a sway in his posture but he recovers quickly. There’s an involuntary grin on his face as he thanks her ignorantly. He’s out of the villa in a rush, and he has the overwhelming urge to just run. The campus is a bit far away from the house, but he doesn’t care as his footfalls echo in the dark streets. He has so much energy to waste, and with his current stamina, he’s confident he’ll find you before dawn. It’s stupid but it’s fun, and he doesn’t care for catching his breath as the corner stores pass by him in a blur.

Throughout the two hours of his reckless jog, where he mixed up directions multiple times, his mind is starting to clear up little by little. He’s happy because of what Soyeon told him, and he feels relieved upon seeing the familiar college building. He’s not allowed in dorms at this time, but he’s done this too many times to get caught. Except he was drunk in those instances, and being on MDMA was different. Sneaking past security was tough because he couldn’t bring himself to tiptoe without making so much noise. When they glanced at him, he thought it to be the only choice to just run past them. He’s in the elevator by the time they catch on, and the numbers look wonky in his eyes but he presses the button for the right floor.

He’s shifting his weight repeatedly in an attempt to contain his excitement; he wants to see you so bad. The moment he hears the ding of the elevator, he’s running past the halls and stops upon seeing 124. He has to squint, but he knows this is your dorm.

You wake up with a silent gasp when there’s a pound on the door. You clutch your sheets in fear until someone starts to sing your name. “Jungkook?” you mouth to yourself. You stand up and look through the peephole and there’s a man on the other side who’s bouncing on his feet impatiently.

“Open up,” he sings loudly. You’re worried when you swing the door open and yank him inside so he doesn’t wake up any other students. You try to talk but only a wheeze comes out, so you switch on the light to see him instead. The brightness hurts your eyes as you close them for a few seconds. “Well, well, well, look who we have here…”

He starts to circle around you slowly and stumbles behind you. “Sending people to spy on me after rejecting me like that.” His words are slightly slurred and you turn around to face him with a pout. You point at your throat to give him a hint, but his eyes don’t waver from your pleading ones. “What are your intentions, huh?” he weakly pushes you, “Sending me mixed signals. Who- who do you think you are?”

You hold his hands and place them on your neck, trying to communicate with him by mouthing, “I’m sick,” but he only chuckles. He seems sickeningly joyous, but he’s not over his anger. “Still not going to talk to me? What did I even do?”

You deeply inhale from your nose because he’s not paying attention to you. You’re frustrated with yourself until he yells, “WHY WON’T YOU TALK TO ME?” The surge of serotonin, his state of euphoria is crashing down on him the more you ignore him. He had believed the drug would only make him happy, but it intensified his sadness and anxiety just as much when he saw you. It helped him forget you in a social circle, but you confused him so much after he was reassured for so long - coupled with your silence, he’s raging.

“Why are you ignoring me?! What did I do that was so bad that you can’t bear talking to me anymore? You told me you loved me, please,” he chokes and tries to swallow the lump in his throat. “I-I’ll make it up to you, I’m so sad right now. Just say something…”

You’re watching him in shock and a hint of fear from his fluctuating mood. You want to cry at how pitiful he looks, but instead you aim to grab a piece of paper from your bedside table. He misreads your actions and pushes you against the wall. “Stop this. Stop!” He has your arms pinned and he’s trying so hard to intimidate you so you give in. A dry sob leaves you because he's going mad, but then he has a sudden epiphany. “Maybe you’ll love me again if I fuck you hard enough and engrave it in your brain that you’re mine. Yes, yes!”

He starts unbuckling his belt and you immediately try to stop him; he’ll get sick! He shoves you again and pulls down his jeans before mashing his mouth against yours. All of your efforts have gone to waste when his tongue forces its way down your throat. There’s no point to denying him now, so you hesitantly kiss him back. You’re so guilty, and he’s so careless as he roughly pushes his hand down your white cotton shorts. You’re wearing a navy blue sweater to match so you don’t get cold in the night, but the shorts are meant to prevent a fever. What’s the point now, then? He hasn’t even read your texts that you only remembered to send before sleeping. He missed a whole paragraph of your explanation and confronted you so angrily.

“I’m going to fuck you all night,” he growls against your lips, “then you’ll remember how much you love me.” Your moans are quiet and hitched as he presses down on your clit through your panties. His other hand is on his cock as he strokes it eagerly, ready to get inside you. “I missed you so fucking much in one day,” he whispers in a croak. Hearing it makes you feel even warmer inside as you nudge his hand to urge him to enter you. “You missed me too, huh?” he takes notice of your neediness. “Shouldn’t have fucking brought it upon yourself then.”

He removes his hand from your shorts and taps your thighs before demanding, “Jump.” You bite your lip in consideration until he taps them harder and you quickly wrap your legs around his waist. Your shorts are relatively short, resembling loose boxers, so when your back is pressed against the wall he only pushes them and your underwear to the side before thrusting into you. A scream gets caught in your throat, and you forget all about your aches as he roughly fucks into you without caring for protection or lube. It stings only slightly, but the pleasure in feeling so full of him outweighs the pain.

Jungkook is moaning and groaning as he bruises your thighs in his hold. Your panting is all he can catch, and though the feeling of you is an amplified sensation because of the drug coursing in his system, he wants to hear you chant his name as well. “Still quiet?” he tuts and carries you to your narrow bed and you cling onto his shoulder while trying to catch your breath after the sudden attack. “Your cunt is throbbing though,” he says as he pulls out of you and drops you on the bed. He manhandles you by flipping you on your stomach and holds up your ass. He finally takes off your bottom clothing, but he’s slightly dizzy as he yanks them off your ankles. He spreads your thighs apart and you’re on your knees with your head against the mattress. “I wonder why that is,” he says before slapping your pussy, making you whimper quietly. “So wet, yet you don’t even make a sound. Some whore you are.” You purse your lips and muster a whine, but it’s interrupted when he pistons his cock inside you without warning. Your sounds are hoarse as he pounds into you from the back, hands kneading your ass to the shape of his hands. He gives it a spank as he moans loudly; the new position makes it feel so much more intense, and Jungkook loves it. His ears finally get to hear your pathetic mewls as he thrusts so deeply inside you that your vision blurs with tears and your eyes roll to the back of your skull. You feel like a doll that can’t speak or move, and he’s evidently enjoying it going by his rushed pace. You’re challenging him with your silence, and he loves proving himself.

All of a sudden however, he stops moving. You look behind you with a pout and he quirks a brow at you. You grit your teeth because you know he's waiting for you to tell him to continue, or rather daring you to do something. A sudden surge of confidence overcomes you and you gently slam your hips against his, fucking yourself on his cock with your eyes screwed shut.

“Yes, baby,” he strains, “show me that you're still my good girl.” At his encouragement, you meet his thrusts faster and you're seeing stars at how amazing it feels. You want to be his good girl so bad, and you arch your back to savour the pleasure. “Your pussy is mine, all mine,” he affirms to himself and stills your hips to turn you around without removing his length. His fingers are digging into your flesh and your tits bounce under the fabric as he rams into you restlessly. Your mouth is open in a silent scream and he can barely make out your pupils, the whites of your eyes stirring his climax at how attractive you look under the poor lighting. “I love you so fucking much,” he cries, “say it back, baby.”

You try to, but you can only dryly cough. “You fucking bitch,” he hisses at your defiance and pulls out of you to pump his length. He’s close to his release, and he pushes up your sweater to see your hard nipples that make him salivate. He crawls to slide his cock between the valley of your breasts and it hurts when he harshly pushes them together. “Stick out your tongue,” he commands in a whisper, and you do so while panting like a dog. Every time he thrusts upwards, the tip of his head grazes your tongue and leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. He’s massaging your tits as he stutters between whines, and eventually his load spurts out to land on your chest and cheek with a particularly loud groan. His cum surges down his shaft as he rides out his high with the last slow thrusts.

“Oh fuck,” he sighs airily and collapses next to you in the tiny space available. You clumsily turn on your side to give him more room and he pecks your swollen lips. He zips his pants back up and you’re still naked from the waist down. You’re staring at each other adoringly in the romantic, fragile atmosphere; another first.

“I love you,” you croak finally. It’s quieter than a whisper, and it makes you cringe at how hideous you sound; it’s painful as well.

His face lights up once he registers your words before noticing the tone. “What happened to your voice?”

“Sick.” You can’t bring yourself to say anything more as you snuggle into his side and he instinctively wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“Shit,” he murmurs, “why didn’t you tell me that sooner, idiot?”

You slap a hand on his front pocket where his phone is, and he hastily takes it out to see a bunch of notifications from you. “You sent it at night, you’re still the idiot.” You giggle and roll your eyes. “A promise is a promise, though,” he purrs before cupping your bare heat. “I did say I would fuck you all night.” You widen your eyes when his head lowers down to face your sopping wet cunt, and he slowly licks up a stripe over your soaked folds, making you shudder and grip his hair. He’s leaving kitty licks all over your sensitivity, the tip of his tongue lightly brushing against your clit every now and then. Your hips lift involuntarily, and he finally takes your clit in his mouth and sucks on it loudly. He slurps your arousal before spitting it back on your hood, and you can only squeak in response. Your hazed mind only tells you that you want more, and he doesn’t fail to provide.

Two fingers enter your clenching hole, and he’s scissoring your walls as he messily eats you out. The pleasure from earlier returns all too soon and you know you won’t be able to last long. His lids are hooded when you glance down at him and the way he’s looking at you makes it even harder to resist your orgasm. The knot in your stomach picks back up right before unraveling and your moan is raspy as you start twitching under his relentless mouth. He grows gentle and leaves kisses all over your vulva until your body falls limp on the sheets.

After another round of penetrative sex, the two of you fall asleep from exhaustion in your bed. It’s a first for the both of you, and Jungkook decides in his drunken mind that tonight won’t be the last. It feels so intimate when he cuddles you, and you won’t ever forget his love confession.

The next morning is not so pleasant however, as Jungkook wakes up with a loud sneeze and in his now nasal voice says, “God fucking damn it.”

#bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts smut #bts x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jjk smut #jungkook imagines #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook scenarios #bts fic #jungkook fic

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nyctophicbtch · 3 years ago

Note

i love your writing so much 💕 can you do more druig x makkari? more specifically jealous!druig??? anything with someone trying to make a move on makkari and druig stepping in protective/jealous

Author's note: decided to do a drabble for this one. Since I wasn’t really feeling this one, I’m probably gonna make more jealous drukkari fics in the future. Most likely steamy ones.

“Don’t forget the milk,” said Phastos as Druig and Makkari opened the front door. “And the cheese. And the-”

“Phastos,” Druig interrupted. “Just text us the list of things you need.”

“Right. Yeah. Thanks guys.”

Makkari gave him a warm smile before they headed out and closed the door behind them.

Staying with Phastos and his family for the past few days had been refreshing for the both of them after stopping the emergence, and Druig had always enjoyed the thought of teasing Phastos by teaching Jack a few cool tricks up his sleeve. Although Phastos hadn’t been thrilled about it, Jack seemed to love Druig and his cool abilities.

But now here they were. Makkari merely wanted a snack from the nearby grocery store, yet she ended up insisting on helping Phastos and Ben with their much needed groceries after she had seen how empty the fridge was.

However, when Druig sensed a man eyeing Makkari, he started to regret their trip to the grocery store. They were walking through the doors when Druig saw the subtle turn of head of the worker by the cashier towards Makkari. Yet Makkari, clueless as she was, just continued to locate the aisle she needed to find.

‘Go get the snacks, I’ll go find the stuff Phastos needs,’ Makkari signed, and before Druig was able to show any form of disagreement, she was already on her way to grab a cart along the end of the aisle.

He grumbled under his breath, but obliged with her request anyway. Not too long after, he spotted Makkari waiting by the same man who eyed her earlier, getting even more frustrated as he learned that the man could sign.

No matter how badly Druig wanted to control the people and tell them to move, he had to restrain himself and wait in line as he watched the man flirt with Makkari.

‘Do you live nearby?’ He signed whilst scanning the groceries.

‘I know a place for books if you’d be interested,” the man signed after Makkari had told him her love for knowledge

‘Can I have your number?’ Makkari shook her head apologetically at the request, however the man kept insisting, and when he leaned in to whisper something into her ear, that was when he crossed the line.

Druig made his way to the front of the line, constantly getting angry looks from the other people waiting in line.

“Hey,” he greeted, wrapping an arm around her before kissing her temple. “What’s taking so long? Jack is going to get grumpy if we don’t give him his snack.”

Instead of questioning him, Makkari leaned against his side to enjoy the comfort of his embrace. She smiled as she gazed at the groceries, nonchalantly bumping against Druig’s side repeatedly

As the man saw their slight intimate gesture, he proceeded on the rest of the groceries in silence, finally leaving her alone.

Makkari grinned as she swung the bags that held their snacks after they had finished paying, causing Druig to question, “What’s that stupid grin for?”

‘Jealous is a cute look on you,’ she signed, continuing to walk along the pavement.

“I’m not jealous,” he stated whilst signing. “Just saving you from a potentially awkward date that you don’t even want.”

‘What if I did want it?’

“You weren’t interested. It was written all over your face,” he mumbled, earning himself a look and a snort from the eternal that walked beside him.

‘I’ll agree. Just to make you feel better.’

#druig #makkari #drukkari #druig x makkari #eternals #marvel #mcu #drabble #imagine #oneshot #fanfic #fanfiction #jealousy

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neesieiumz · 4 years ago

Text

6 Months {Izuku Midoriya x Reader}

(Pro-hero!Izuku Midoriya x Former Pro-hero!Reader)

[PART ONE] [PART TWO]

L E A V E.

Summary: You were done. Done with everything. So what do you do? You move on. What's new? What's old? And who makes an even bigger space in your heart?

A/n: So this isn't based on another song, well technically it's still based on Sorry, but it's more like a part two to sorry than it being it's own separate part, you feel me? I know it took longer than expected, but there were so many paths I wanted to take and I didnt feel like rushing it. I really wanted to focus on flashbacks for this final part, your decision to leave the pro-hero scene, when Izuku and Melissa started to see each other... etc... I always made a gateway... in case I wanted to continue you and someone else's romance if I ever felt like it... So enjoy!

Support me on Kofi! Commissions are open!

Word Count: 8.0k

Warnings: Implied NFSW, but no deed is actually done, light drinking, (all in good fun)

___

Falling into your mother’s arms, you spilled everything from last night and this morning. On how you eavesdropped on his conversation, the confrontations from both this morning and at the brunch. Your father wasn’t home, left earlier this morning for his job. Both you and your brother moved out not too long after high school, him going on to college to become an engineer, and you moving into an apartment with Mina and Jirou while you worked for the same hero agency. Your mother was your closest confidant, she was the only one who could come to mind to tell her about what happened. She just held you, rocking you as you cried, cried about your broken marriage, and seeing the girl your husband abandoned you for. You cried about how both she, your dad, and your brother were right. How you should have never listened to him about giving up everything you worked so hard for. She held you in her loving arms, whispering sweet things in your ear.

“I should have listened to you,” you sobbed, holding one of the throw pillows close to you as you sat up on your couch, leaving her hold on you.

Your dress was bunched up to your knees so you pulled the wrinkled material out from under you as you shifted around on your mother’s leather couch. She pulled you into one last hug, the warm embrace making silent tears fall down your face. Your mom pushed the braids falling out of your now-loose bun from your tear-stricken face. Continuing to caress your face slowly, her slightly rough hands provided a familiar comfort from your childhood.

“This is not your fault, you can not blame yourself for his infidelity, nor can you blame yourself for sticking by your husband’s side and decisions. You did what you thought was right and absolutely no one can give you shit for believing in your marriage.” Her soft voice provides extra comfort to you.

“WHAT?!?”

You were in your family home, six years ago. You still had a couple of bandages around your face and arms. Recently, you just completed physical therapy, nearly regaining full control over your limbs. The fight you had was brutal, nearly leveled the entire city. However, you came out successful from it, even if it put you out of commission for over a year. However, since you’ve woken up, you and Izuku have been having intense conversations about the two of you and your futures together, which led you to the decision you’ve made today.

“YOU’RE RETIRING?!?!” Your brother yelled, standing up swiftly out of his chair.

You took a deep breath, keeping your head down as you nodded your head. It was just you, your parents, and your brother here, Izuku currently being in the top 25 heroes, had a lot of work to do so he could join you as you broke the news to them.

“Izuku and I have been talking and seeing how fast he’s going in the Hero Charts. This incident caused us to do some major thinking. The two of us worrying about each other on the job isn’t healthy. Having two heroes in a relationship, especially two who are going as high in the ranks as us as quickly as we are. Considering how there are a lot more people expecting Izuku to go higher since he’s All Might’s prodigy. So, I’ll be retiring and helping Izuku with his career from the sidelines.”

You let out another deep breath as you finished your monologue, your fingers twitching in your lap. You knew this was a decision your family wasn’t going to agree with, after all, it’s not like you don’t have your legacy to meet up with. Your mother, before Miruko, was the highest-ranked female pro hero in all of Japan. You had her legacy to go after since your brother decided to go into the family business with pro-hero gear.

“You can’t be serious!! After everything, you’ve worked for?!?! You’re just gonna give it up BECAUSE IZUKU SAID SO?!”

Your brother was the most pissed, after all, it was always both you and his plan that the two of you would live up to our parent’s legacy. He would become the best support gear inventor and you would become the best pro hero. So saying this puts a damper on the dreams you both had.

“You had one bad fight with a villain, but the doctors said you’re going to be cleared right?” You nodded your head at his question, “so why? Why would you need to retire after that one fight?!”

“Izuku proposed.”

Gasps of shock flew from heri mouths, you smiled sadly as you pulled your hand from under the other, revealing the small, silver ring with the pure cut diamond sitting perfectly in the middle of it.

“He’s the love of my life, and he’s the man who I want to spend the rest of my life with… to have kids with. We both understand how difficult this job is, and we both know how much I wanted to become a pro hero, but since he’s my endgame… something had to give. And so I did.”

Next was your father, having raised you since you were 3 years old. He saw how much you looked up to your mother, and to your grandmother as well. You come from a line from female pro heroes, and it was always your dream to continue that. He’s always supported you throughout the years, remembering all the times the two of you would work in his workshop on new hero gear, both with your brother and without as well.

“Y/n, don’t you think you’re rushing into this decision? This is everything you’ve been working for, and you’re gonna throw it away?”

“I know your concerns but this is for the best for me and him. I know being a pro hero was what I wanted, but…” you trailed off, looking away from your trembling hands.

Your mother, who was sitting beside you, could only stare at your trembling hands. Almost reminds her of the time she told her mother who she was marrying. How nervous she was, not because she was putting her career on the back burner, but because of what happened the last time she decided to pursue a romantic relationship with someone. She got you out of it, but it was still a painful journey. She took a deep breath, before shifting herself to where you were. She placed her hand on top of your own, making you look down at them before slowly turning your head to look at her.

“Are you happy?”

The question caught everyone off guard, their heads turning towards your mother. You slowly nodded your head, smiling at all the memories you’ve made with Izuku. When you first met as a transfer student, your first date and everything else.

“Yeah Mom, I’m happy.”

You took a deep breath, leaning forward as you shook the memory out of your head.

Meanwhile, your mom tried to lighten the mood, “Well, let’s hope your father doesn’t get to him… you know he doesn’t play about you… or your brother either.”

“He won’t be able to land a hit on him unless Izuku lets him.”

“Well, he better let him then!”

You laughed out loud at that, throwing your head back against the back of the couch. You could feel your mom get off the couch, leaning up as she headed to the dining table. Looking through the papers stacked on the wooden table, she pulled out a business card before walking back to where you were still seated on the couch. Your mom sat back down in her original seat, before handing you the same card of laminated cardboard paper.

Renai Miya, divorce attorney at law.

“Renai is a good friend of mine, she gave me that in case anyone I knew was getting advice soon. I’m sure she didn’t expect my daughter but I’m sure she’ll be able to help you out.”

You looked over at your mother, who just gave you another knowing smile. She just rubbed at your shoulders in comfort as you pulled out your phone.

---

Izuku was sitting at his office, ignoring the texts from both Shoto and Katsuki. After the argument and confrontation from this morning, he decided to stay in the office today and complete some overdue paperwork. Typing away on his computer, his mind began to shift from the email he was sent to the hero commission to the argument that happened between him, Kacchan, and Shoto.

“I’m sorry, YOUR WIFE JUST TRIED TO KILL YOU! We don’t know what would have happened if we hadn't come when we did!” Katsuki yelled, throwing his jacket off of his body.

“Izuku, this is a serious matter. We need to know what happened,” Shoto explained next, kneeling in front of Izuku’s crouching figure.

Izuku just shook his head, diving his head into the insides of his elbows. Shoto and Katsuki looked at each other, the concern shining in their eyes. They looked back at their trembling friend, who was now starting to rock back and forth while whispering “I fucked up.” over and over again.

“Izuku,” Katsuki started tentatively, “what did you do?”

Izuku stopped trembling and his rocking ceased as he raised his head slowly, locking eyes with his childhood friend. Katsuki’s leg began moving up and down in anticipation, waiting for him to say something.

“I don’t want to report this, trust me. So just pretend you never saw that.” That was all he said before standing up, pushing past them.

Izuku shook his head, focusing back on his emails. He sent the long paragraph he was typing, after making sure there were grammatical or spelling errors. He then leaned back against his office chair, throwing his head back. A gross, yet very familiar feeling was arising from his stomach, it was slimy, it was painful, it was guilt. He felt guilty, remembering how his wife looked at him at breakfast and right before she left. How the look in her eyes felt more painful than other villains could ever inflict on him.

Closing his eyes, his mind slowly drifted to a memory, a memory from three months ago.

It was dark, and Izuku was tired, so very tired from the shift he worked. However, he needed to do this. He needed to end whatever the hell he and Melissa had. The way they were conversing over private messages was getting too much. In a week would be his wedding Anniversary, and how his wife, Y/n, surprised him, reminded him about what he and Melissa had.

And how wrong it was.

He wore a black, sleeveless turtleneck, paired with a dark coat along with dark jeans. He had fake glasses on his face and his curly was positioned to cover his face so people wouldn’t recognize him. He kept his head forward as he approached the apartment complex Melissa mentioned she was moving into. After living on I-island for all of her life, she wanted a change of pace, especially since what happened with her father way back when. So she got a job as a top hero support inventor at the company where Izuku got his extra gear from. Since it’s also where Hatsume worked as well. He opened the door and walked into the lobby. He looked around the expensive-looking area, seeing the receptionist, and only one other person sitting on the complementary couch talking on the phone. He walked to the receptionist, who greeted him with a smile.

“Are you here to see someone?”

He nodded and gave his fake name, the one he told Melissa he’d be using, along with the apartment number that she gave him. The receptionist simply smiled before typing in her computer, before reaching over to the phone and pressing a couple of the buttons. Izuku could hear someone pick up, a muffled voice through the phone.

“Yes, Ms. Shield, A Iseada L/n is here to see you.”

Izuku took a deep breath, hearing the fake name he gave along with his wife’s maiden name. The receptionist gave off acknowledging hums to the person on the phone, who Izuku knew was Melissa. He rocked himself against his heels, feeling his fingers twitch around in his pockets.

“Alright, I’ll send him right up!” She ended the call, placing the phone back in its holder.

She then smiled at Izuku before pointing at the elevators behind him, “you can use an elevator. Ms. Shield lives on the fifth floor.”

Izuku nodded and thanked her before turning around to the elevators. He picked on towards the left and stepped inside of it, waiting for it to close before choosing the button that said “five.” The doors closed as generic elevator music played throughout the rising mechanical box. Izuku sighed, pulling off the fake glasses, before pushing his curls out of his face.

Third floor…

Fourth floor…

The elevator dinged as the door opened, revealing the fifth floor. Izuku stepped out of the elevator, using the signs on the walls to find his way to Melissa’s apartment. Walking past all the other doors, of the patrons of the apartment, who were currently sleeping to the world. Unaware that their number one hero was sneaking past them, claiming to be ending an illicit relationship.” Seeing the apartment number up ahead, Izuu could feel his heart beat faster. Taking another deep breath, he stopped right in front of the pitch-black door. Swallowing his spit, he closed his eyes before knocking on the door a couple of times. Almost immediately after he knocked, the door opened, causing Izuku’s eyes to shoot open, jumping back a little as Melissa stepped into the doorframe. Izuku was about to speak when his eyes drifted down to what she was wearing. It was a simple white t-shirt, ending right at her upper thigh. Izuku licked his dry lips, before looking back up at Melissa’s face who was giving him a knowing smile, that looked smug as well.

“Izuku,” her usually peachy tone came out a little subtle, silky and sultry, “I’m so happy to see you after so long. Come in.”

Izuku simply nodded as Messlia stepped to the side, allowing him to enter her expensive apartment, which could be classified as a penthouse. Izuku looked around, his eyes landing on all the decorations around her living room. He walked toward her wall, where she hung pictures. There were pictures of Melissa with her dad, her mom, All Might, and a couple of her friends from I-island. He continued looking around, before his eyes landing on a picture of the two of them, back when he was a first-year.

“You were so short back then,” Izuku heard Melissa say, as she came to stand next to him.

Izuku just nodded, continuing to look at the frames. He was enveloped in the nostalgia he was facing when he didn’t even notice Melissa coming up behind him. He only noticed her when he felt a hand coming up around his waist. He froze, his heart pounding away in his ears. She then stood right behind him, before pressing up against his back next, her hands now circling his waist.

“Melissa…” he started, feeling her fingers mess with his zipper and belt under his overcoat jacket.

God, was she wearing anything under that shirt? He could feel her breasts, her hardened nipples pressing against his back. He took another deep breath, licking his lips before moving his hands to where her own was and prying them off his belt, just as she was beginning to unbuckle it.

“Melissa, we can’t do this. I’m married. Happily married at that. I can’t keep doing this to her.”

Melissa only hummed, moving her body from behind his own, stepping in front of him. She was wet, her long wavy dripping down her face and body. The water from her wet hair dripped onto her shirt, her white, very thin shirt. Izuku’s breath hitched as he slowly glanced down her body, her nipples visibly being shown through the fabric.

“Yet, you can’t keep your eyes off me Izuku.” Hands grabbed at his jacket, pulling him closer to her.

Izuku gasped as Melissa brought her hand, cupping his face before bringing it down. Izuku gasped once again as he felt lips upon his own, feeling her other hand reach inside his jacket to pull him closer by the waist. Izuku was about to push her away, he needed to push her away. God, he was married for fucks sake, to someone who loved him dearly. But her lips, they felt so good to him. Glossed from the shower she took, they tasted of mint and strawberries. Izuku, taking a deep breath, went to push off his jacket, never letting go of the kiss. Mellissa, smirking into the kiss, helped him out of the jacket before squealing as Izuku scooped her up before slamming her on the wall.

“This is a one-time thing,” he mumbled against her lips, using his hips to hold her up against the wall as he took off his shirt next.

“Yeah…” Mellissa said with a skeptical tone, feeling his hands go under her wet shirt next.

“A one-time thing…”

Izuku groaned, throwing the papers in his hands across his desk. Taking a deep breath, he pushed himself out of his desk. He stood up from out of his chair, walking over to the wall which was replaced with windows, looking down upon the city of Mustafa. He could hear the faint sounds of cars driving and honking, he could see the civilians, everyone he protects. Looking across the street, he could see a cafe. It was one that he frequents since it’s so close. The door opened, and it revealed a couple. A laughing couple. The man was holding a medium-sized bag, with the logo of the cafe plastered across the bag. He was wearing a dark brown suede jacket that was buttoned shut. The woman was wearing a matching jacket, wearing as a dress, her curly hair pulled up in a bun. She held their coffees as they walked along the sidewalk. Izuku smiled sadly, before looking over to the couch in his office.

Laughter rang out inside the office, the sun had already gone down a long time ago and the night shift heroes were all out patrolling, leaving Izuku, a couple of sidekicks, and a couple of more janitors. It was your anniversary, but unfortunately, a string of villain attacks happened today. This pulled Deku out of his day off and kept him away. So, you decided to surprise me with dinner at his office. You cooked shrimp alfredo, packing it in pretty containers, before stopping by a couple of stores, buying a fancy cake that said “Happy Anniversary.” The last thing you bought was some expensive alcohol, a bottle of wine and champagne just in case. She then dressed up, a dark green silk dress paired with a matching coat and heeled shoes. She brought a few decorations before carrying all of that, using your clouds. Izuku smiled once he walked into the office with everything, abandoning his work and helped you set up the table.

The two of you enjoyed dinner together, talking about your day, specifically on how Izuku was swamped with back-to-back villain attacks. To the point where he was the same police officer twice in two different scenes. After dinner, the two of you move to the couch, still holding your wine glasses now filled with champagne.

“I have a gift for you,” Izuku mentioned, pushing himself up off the couch before going behind his desk, going through the drawers.

You giggled, shifting around the couch to get a little more comfortable, your jacket long discarded. Izuku hissed out a “here it is!”, before pulling out a neatly wrapped box, closing the drawer with his foot. You took another sip of your bubbly alcohol as Izuku skipped over to you with the box in hand.

“Here you go, darling!”

You smiled, placing your glass on the small lamp table to the right of you before sitting up and taking the box from your husband. He smiled at you as he sat beside you, seeing you begging to open up the carefully placed wrapping paper. Once all the wrapping paper was removed from the box, you gasped, seeing the logo on the box. BVLGARI. A smile slowly appeared on your face as you untied the golden silk ribbon. Slowly lifting the top of the box, you pulled out of the pure white tissue paper. This revealed one of the most beautiful necklaces and earrings you’ve ever seen. It was an emerald necklace, it had two emeralds, and also was decorated with mini diamonds along the border, and considering the brand, you knew it was real. The earrings were dangly and matched the way the smaller emerald looked on the necklace.

“Izuku… it’s beautiful…”

He smiled, taking the box out of your hands before taking the necklace out of the box. He whispered at you to turn around. Following his instructions, you swept your goddess braids to the side as he placed the necklace around your neck, the cool feeling of the metal tingly against your warm skin. Izuku then connected the chain, letting the necklace fall against your nape before leaning over your shoulder and placing a light kiss on top of her almost-bare shoulder. You shuddered, leaning into his touch as his hands moved from your shoulders, trailing down your body to rest them on your hips. You let out a moan, feeling him give your neck a nip, reaching up to grab him by his messy curls. You smirked, before sighing into the neck kisses he was leaving on your neck.

“You smell,” he inhaled slowly, “really fucking good.”

Giggling at his words, you placed your own hands on top of his own before turning around. You lifted yourself off the chair. Izuku lifted an eyebrow as you placed your hands behind your back.

“I have a gift for you too, it’s not a material gift but…” you trialed off as you reached up the straps of your dress, before beginning to slowly pull them down, revealing the thin straps of your expensive lingerie.

Izuku’s eyes sparkled as your dress trailed down your body, revealing the expensive material cut and crafted to fit your body perfectly. The way the emerald green clashed perfectly with your deeper skin. Your manicured hands trailed down your body as your dress pooled at your feet, leaving you in nothing but the sinful lingerie and the heels to match. Izuku licked his bottom lip as you slowly walked over to him, dragging your heels with each step. Lifting yourself, you slowly placed yourself on his lap, feeling Izuku’s hands immediately attach themselves to your hips. He gave you a sly smile, looking up at you.

“And you look so amazing,” he gave your body another glance, making you smirk and lean back, using your arms and hands to steady you.

You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck before diving into a kiss. His lips tasted of mint and strawberries, it was a new taste but one you didn’t mind. Deepening the kiss, you gasped as you felt Izuku’s hard on all the way through his pants.

“I love you so much, Izuku Midoriya.”

A moment of silence went by.

“I love you too, Y/n Midoriya.”

Izuku took a deep breath and was about to open the next one when his phone, his personal one, started ringing. He reached in the drawer and pulled it out and looked at the screen. Sweetheart was calling, a picture of you and Izuku at your wedding anniversary plastered across the screen. Izuku was less blacked up back then, and you still had a crutch from your physical therapy from your incident. But god did you both look so beautiful and happy. Izuku was wearing his suit from the wedding but without the jacket and a couple of buttons unfastened. You, however, changed out of your wedding dress into a white velvet dress that was strapless and came with these long gloves in the similar fabric that you only wore for official pictures. Izuku was carrying you bridal style along with the rest of you and his family and his closest friends.

Izuku simply smiled sadly, before answering the call.

“Y/n?”

He heard nothing at first, nothing but the phone static so he called out your name again. This time he heard someone take a deep, trembling breath as if they had been crying for a long time.

“Izuku.” Your voice was scratchy, and hoars too. Izuku could feel his heartbreak and drop to his ass all at the same time. He did that.

God he was supposed to be a hero, save people and never let them down.

Now he may have just ruined his marriage.

“Y/n.” He said again, “how- how are you?”

“I’ve called a divorce lawyer.”

Oh. Straight to the bullet.

“We can’t- we can’t talk about this?”

“What’s there to talk about? You did this to me. You did this to us. Now face the fucking consequences of your actions.” Your voice was scratchy, the rasp appearing with each word you say.

“I know what I did.”

“And yet, you still did it.”

Izuku took a deep breath, leaning back into his chair. He looked up at the ceiling of his office, looking at the dazzling, overhanging chandelier in the middle of it.

“So there’s nothing I can say or do to convince you to stay?”

“You can have the house, as long as you pay me alimony for the next two-three years, for a reasonable price of course.”

You completely ignored his question, going straight into what was going to happen next. Izuku took another deep breath, this time leaning against his hand as he placed his elbow, pointed up, against his desk.

“So this is it?”

“This is it, Izuku. I told myself I would never lessen myself for a man, and I already broke that when I quit my job. I’m not gonna keep doing that to myself.”

“I-I love you.”

You gave off an airy chuckle as if you couldn't believe the words coming out of his mouth. And with that you ended the call, those being one of the last words you’ll be saying to him until the meetings between the two of you and your divorce lawyers.

---

“Y/n?” A muffled voice called out, pulling you out of your sleep along with knocks on your door

You pushed yourself off the bed, throwing the hotel blankets off your body. It was late at night, you went back home after your impromptu visit with your mother. You packed up what you could in one go before stuffing it in your car. You couldn’t see Izuku after that, so you tried your best to remove any trace of yourself from that house. You were just about to fall asleep, the tv playing a random 90s show for background noise. Digging through one of your suitcases, you found a robe to wrap around your body before moving towards the door.

You summoned lightning in one hand as you checked who was at the door. Seeing red-and-white hair, along with a bright blue eye and a dull grey eye, you took a deep sigh of relief before slowly opening the door. Standing there, wearing a raincoat and holding a closed umbrella was Shoto Todoroki. His hair that grew since high school was pulled back in a ponytail as he looked down upon with concerned eyes.

“Y/n…”

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes as he said your name. You then opened them back up before giving him a sad smile.

“Shoto… can I help you?” You leaned against the doorway, placing a hand in your waist.

“I heard from Izuku, the two of you are getting a divorce?”

You leaned into the hallway, looking to see if anyone saw him before pulling him into your hotel room. You closed the door and locked it behind you immediately before turning on the light. Shoto looked around the luxury rented room, seeing all of your suitcases and other items stacked up against a wall. Feeling your hands tremble, you sat on your bed, folding your hands underneath themselves.

“How did-“ your voice came out raspy and dry, so you cleared your throat before speaking again.

“How did you find me? I didn’t tell anyone where I was.”

Shoto simply smiled, “being the #3 hero has its perks. I figured you didn’t want a lot of people crowding around you so I said I’d talk to you.”

Hearing that, you lifted your head swiftly, “people already know about the divorce?”

Shot shrugged off his raincoat, revealing the long sleeve black turtleneck he was wearing. He placed his umbrella in a random corner before going to sit beside you on the bed.

“After what happened this morning, Izuku only told us that you’re leaving him… and wouldn’t tell us why. We called everyone, Uraraka, Iida, Kirishima, we even called his mom and All Might… all he said was that his marriage was over. No reason as to why…”

You let out a slight chuckle, your shoulders jumping slightly at the irony of the situation.

“So the only person you could come to was me, right?”

Shoto simply nodded his head, shifting his body closer to you.

“Y/n… I know you… you aren’t this rash person. You wouldn’t come to this decision on a whim. I thought you and Izuku were okay?”

Taking a deep breath, you spoke, “I thought we were okay too… Shoto I… he…”

Your body shuddered and shook as sobs flew out of your mouth. As tears fell, you covered your face and turned away from Shoto, hunching over yourself. That’s when you feel hands, one warm and the other cold, pull at you, grabbing at your waist before pulling you into a warm body. Shoto’s comforting hands and his placing you on the fireside of his body allowed him to let it all out once again. He didn’t say a word, only letting out soft shushes in your ear as you continued to cry.

You could hear nothing else other than the air conditioning and your cries echo throughout your room. It felt like an eternity before you slowly started to quiet down. Taking a deep breath, you slowly pushed yourself out of Shoto’s hold before getting up to get a water bottle. Shoto, his eyes still shining with concern, said nothing as you twisted the cap open and drank half the bottle.

As the pudding of your head slowly went away, you placed the bottle on the desk before sitting back on the bed.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to cry my eyes out all over you,” you apologized, grabbing one of the pillows to hold closer to your body.

Shoto shook his head, waving off your concerns, “it’s okay, it’s black anyways.”

You just nodded your head and looked away.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s wrong? Why are you and Izuku getting a divorce?”

You took a deep breath, your mind racing with everything you’ve been through… the day you met Izuku, the day you asked him out for the first time, the day he asked to be your girlfriend, the day he proposed… the day you two got married… everything.

“Izuku… he cheated on me…”

It was silent after that, the buzz of the air conditioning and the beeps of the cars below the two of you filling the tense air.

“He… he what?”

You bit your bottom lip as you spoke again, “he cheated on me, with Mellissa, you remember her right? Melissa Shield? All Might’s “niece”?”

Shoto nodded his head, shifting his body to face forward as he leaned forward, using his hands to steady himself. He lifted his head to the ceiling as he fully processed your words.

“Oh… oh wow… I never thought that he would do that.”

You scoffed, flopping back into the bed, “well me neither, and yet… here we are.”

You started to laugh, laugh at this situation, laugh at here you are now. God, everything was so fucked, wasn’t it? Feeling the bed shift, you could feel Shoto lay down on the bed beside you. He wrapped his arms around you before pulling you into him once again, this time leaving you on his right side so you could cool down. The feeling left sighing, leaning into his touch even more.

“Izuku is an absolute idiot, and I’m glad that you’re leaving him at the first sight of disrespect.”

Coming from Todoroki and his background, those meant a lot to you. You smiled before lifting your head to look at him.

“Thanks, Shoto, that means a lot.”

He smiled, before slowly removing his hands from your waist.

“I should let you sleep, I just wanted to come to check up on you.” He bent over to grab at his umbrella before turning around to grab his raincoat.

Sniffling, you nodded your head, wiping away your tears before getting up to see him off, “thanks for coming to check up on me… even though the way you found me was a little creepy.”

—-

You officially divorced three months after that day, Izuku tried to hold out as long as he could but soon enough even the number one hero couldn't hold out that long. The number of times you had to tell him you weren't going to come back to him was astounding, his stubbornness knew no bounds. You allowed Izuku to keep the house and he was to pay you a hefty amount of alimony along with the money he was to pay you for spousal distress.

When news came out that the number one hero and his wife would be divorcing, the media went into a frenzy. Even bigger than the one about your wedding. You had to rely on your family to help you out until the news and paparazzi left you alone. It was even worse on Deku, being the top hero and not even able to save his marriage? Talk about a blow to his reputation, it almost cost him the #1 spot. If it wasn't for the Incident at the Kasona Mall, where a villain decided to blow up a mall, where he saved over 50 people in one swoop, Bakugo would have finally been able to claim that #1 spot.

Speaking of pro-heroes.

H/n is back on the scene! Officially signing with The Todoroki Agency!!

You were a pro-hero again, stepping back into the spotlight after over six years. After not much deliberation, and encouragement from friends alike, you decided to come out of retirement once more. You had to retake the licensing process and test of course, but you passed with ease. Being a hero was almost like riding a bike, it was ingrained within you. After The Hero Commission reinstated you, you got so many offers. From Fatgum to LeMillion, and Gang Orca. However, you already promised a certain person that you would join up with him.

“You sure you want me Shoto?” You were sitting in his penthouse, visiting him after he got hurt in the Incident at Kasona mall.

The two of you had gotten closer ever since that day he found you in your hotel room. He helped you get back on your feet, helped you pick out a new house to live in, (since you left the house to Izuku), and helped you study to retake the test. He nodded, shifting his position on his couch. The movement however, caused him to wince as he had to move his arm, which slung into a cast. You immediately got up and helped him move into a more comfortable position without straining himself. He thanked you for the help as you sat back down, grabbing your glass of wine.

“Yeah, you were an amazing hero when you were active years ago. I know this is a decision I’ll lose no sleep over.”

You chuckled, sipping on the wine he put out for the two of you. He smiled softly at you, his intense stare causing your body to heat up slightly, or that could be from the alcohol, you honestly didn't know. You licked your lips, shifting your legs to help lessen that heated throb between your thighs.

“Alright, I guess I’m joining your agency.”

You grew out of your old outfit, so with the help of Hatsume and other designers, you got a whole new outfit. Instead of the original leotard/bodysuit you had when you were younger, along with the thigh boots, it all connected into all one large jumpsuit. It was black with purple accents adorning all across the outfit along with a brand new cape. You turned around, summoning clouds to lift you as you twirled around. Hatsume, the designer who made your new hero costume, Hokkaido, and Mina, who you also told about the true reason you and Izuku got divorced, all smiled as you felt out your new outfit.

“Well?” Mina asked, smiling as you landed on your feet.

You turned around, trailing your hands down your body, feeling the aft fabric and metal accents clash together on your body before smiling at yourself in the mirror.

“I love it.”

Your office was on the same floor as Shoto’s, him constantly relying on your knowledge and wisdom on other matters. The two of you were the leaders in the recent missions the two of you had taken together. This whole process was a lot like riding a bike, coming back easily. You had missed this, you had missed this so much, and you could tell the world and missed you too.

The media accepted your return with open arms, jumping right back to the top 20s. You were a very powerful hero after all.

After three months of coming back, making it six months since your divorce, your parents decided to throw a party for you. To celebrate you coming back, and ranking high on the Billboard Chart in so little time. You tried to get yourself out of it but they took no excuses. So you decided to make the most of it, you felt like a whole new woman. Placing your braids in a bun, you wore a strapless black velvet dress with matching long-sleeved gloves. You slipped on some ankle-strap, black stilettos, and pearl jewelry set to complete the look. The party was small but it was filled with life, all of your old classmates and even your old co-workers from your old agency even came. Mina, Jirou, Tsu, and even Yaomomo, as busy as she is, came. Kirishima even got Bakugou to come. Everyone was so excited to see you come out of retirement and take to the streets again. Some did try to pry into your broken relationship with Izuku, but you just ignored them and told them to enjoy themselves at the party.

“Y/n.”

You turned around to see Shoto standing there with two champagne flutes in his hands. You smiled and walked up to him, hands extended out for a hug. He wrapped his arms around the best he could with the two drinks in his hands. You giggled at his struggle as he tried to step back without spilling the drinks.

“I see your hands are full, Boss.” You winked as you took one of the flutes of champagne out of his hands.

He just chuckled as you guys cheered, clinking your glasses together before taking a sip. As the sweet liquid hit your tongue, your eyes trailed down his body at the suit he was wearing. All black suit with the jacket, with a white dress shirt, red tie and tailored to perfection. You licked your lips as he breathed in, seeing his chest press up against the white fabric. Clearing your throat, you pulled your eyes away from his chest as you looked up at him finishing his drink. You smiled at him and he returned it as he placed the glasses on an empty table.

“You seem so much happier.” You heard Shoto comment behind you.

You turned to face him and couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow.

“What do you mean?”

Shoto walked up to you, the proximity between you two making your heart pound this a little faster. He leaned down, using his right hand to make you look in his eyes.

“When you first announced your retirement, and when I saw you after that… I do not doubt that you were happy but…” he trailed, his grip on your chin tightening slightly.

“But… but what?” You let out a whisper, feeling his thumb softly move against your skin.

“There was still this sadness in your eyes, that I could never pinpoint but now… I can’t see it at all.�� He let go of you after that, taking a couple of steps back.

You took another deep breath, pressing a hand against your chest to feel your beating heart.

Smiling at Shoto, “thank you, that means a lot.”

The two of you continued to drink together, whether it be champagne or something stronger. The more the drinks came around you two, the two of you drank, and the more you two drank, the more handsy the two of you got. Shoto’s arms never left your waist and would find themselves trailing lower and lower down your body. You would find ways and excuses to slowly caress his face or his chest. The two of you would just get closer and closer. Luckily, most everyone around was drunk so even if they did notice, it was unlikely that they would notice. Soon enough, people began to leave, wishing you the best of luck and congratulations.

Then it was just the two of you. Shoto, despite being as drunk as you are, helped carry you to your bed upstairs. As he laid you in the bed, you reached out to him, pulling him down onto you and your bed. You giggled as he flopped on his back, allowing you to quickly straddle him.

“Y/n,” he giggled, he was more emotional, happy drunk, “Y/n why are you doing?”

You smiled, licking and biting at your lips as your hands trailed down his body. Feeling at his chest, before trailing down his abs, your hands and fingers going ever ripple and ridge on his body before landing right in the top of his pelvic area, feeling his hard-on poke out through his slacks. You hissed slowly as you began to rock into him, your dress riding up with every movement you made. Your movements caused him to whisper curses under his breath, his hips buck as he grabbed onto your waist tightly. You gripped at his shoulders as he guided you up and down his waist, his touch leaving your skin electrified, the opposite temperatures causing trembles throughout your body. You then leaned down to plant light kisses against his neck

“You’re so fucking handsome,” you whispered against his skin, your fingers fumbling with the buttons on his dress shirt.

He just smirked before flipping you on your back, using his knee to spread your legs.

——

It was a week after the party and you had just gotten back from your shift of patrol. It was early in the morning, say almost 4 am, and you were ready to go home and get some sleep. Saying goodbye to your sidekick, you walked towards your office to get some final papers before going home. As you opened the door, you could feel dull light entering your vision. So you turned and followed where it was coming from only to find yourself right outside of Shoto’s door. That’s where you could hear the argument.

“Izuku I—”

“NO— I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU, YOU’RE SLEEPING WITH MY EX-WIFE!”

“I think you’re the last person to be concerned about what she does now!”

“You’re one of my closest friends, I’ve known you the longest! And you just stab me in the back like this!?”

“I think that you should leave Izuku before I make you. What Y/n and I have, it’s none of your business.”

You could hear a slam, and hear something break before hearing heavy stomps echo throughout the room. You hoped it didn’t come to them full-on fighting, you knew Shoto could handle himself against, however, when Izuku was mad, Lord did he get mad. You hope you won't have to face him again, after all this time.

“I don’t want to hear a word you have to say!! I should have known, you’ve ALWAYS been chasing after her! Since our time at U.A!

You tilted your head at that, confused at what he meant. Shoto has been chasing after you since high school? You thought that Shoto always had a thing for Yaomomo, despite her and Jirou getting engaged recently. It was because of that, you believed Shoto had shifted his focus onto you…

“So what? I thought I left her in good hands, out of all my friends, you were the ONLY one that I thought could give her a good life. I thought you could love her and only be with her! Now I see that I couldn’t even trust you with that! So you don’t get to decide how she spends her time and who she spends it with! Not after what you did to her!”

It went quiet after that, but you could still see the heavy breathing out of both of them. You bit your lip, heart pounding as you grasped at the wall, staring to hear to see if they speak under their breath.

“What… what are you talking about?”

“She told me… she told me what you did... How you cheated on her with Melissa. Don’t give me that look, I’m not gonna tell anyone. She asked me not to, it’ll do no one any good if it got all. They’ll just hound her for months for this.”

You could feel your body begin to rock back and forth, you could feel the tension rising all the way from the place where you would stand.

“So I say again, you have no right to have any say about what she does in her own time. Even when she was married to you, she was never yours! She’s her own woman, and after being suffocated by you, she deserves to do whatever she wants. I’ll be here, no matter what, and I’ll stick by her because that’s what people who truly love someone do!”

You couldn’t help but smile at his words, you could feel tears swell in your waterline. Taking a deep breath, you stood up slowly, brushing off any dirt or dust collected on your lap before walking towards the door. You gave a knock on the door, before slowly turning the doorknob to reveal a trashed office. Plants turning upside down, smaller tables flipped around, and books spread all across the floor. Your eyes then landed on the two of them, standing behind the bigger office desk. Izuku was holding Shoto by his shirt, and the two of them had intense looks on their faces. You took another deep breath, seeing the way Izuku looks after so long. He grew out his beard, despite him hating it so much. His already scruffy, curly hair grew even more unruly. His eyes turned towards you, the shock after seeing you so long causing him to lose his grip on Shoto.

“Y/n…”

You closed your eyes and rolled your neck before closing the door behind you.

“Shoto is correct, what I do with my time is absolutely none of your business Izuku. We’re done, we’ve been done for six months. If I’m going, to be honest, we’ve been done for a year… since you had an affair with Melissa for six months as well,” you stated, slowly walking up towards the two of them.

“So what I do with him, what I do with anyone… is no longer your business. Now get out!”

Izuku stood there, shocked at your words, slowly turning his body to face you.

“Y/n I…” You made a motion with your hands, quieting him.

“Izuku Midoriya, get out now!”

He jumped back, before turning back to Shoto, giving him one last glare before walking past you towards the door. You kept your back towards him, and the door as well, as he opened it before walking out, shutting it behind him. With that, you then turned to the last man standing in the room. You gave him a soft smile, slowly shaking your head as you amble across to him. You placed your hands on his biceps as he wrapped his arms around your waist. He smiled down at you, before leaning in for a soft kiss. You chuckled and smiled into the kiss, tightening your grip on his arms. You could feel the grip you had on you tighten with every second of the kiss. Once you let go, you slowly reached up to caress the side of his face with the scar with your hand.

“You look stressed… is it because of your day? Or because of the walking trash that just walked out?”

He chuckled softly at your words, shaking his head. You smiled as you walked towards his desk, moving some of the papers off before sitting on top of his desk. Shoto gave you an up and down glance, before walking towards you and standing in between your legs.

“So… why was Izuku here?” You asked him, rubbing at his shoulders and arms.

Shoto took a deep breath before leaning forward and laying his head on top of your shoulders.

“He came up here, accusing me of different things. I never found out he found out that the two of us were seeing each other… I was more focused on other things…”

Izuku was always so stubborn, that could be a good or bad thing depending on who side you were on. You sighed, nodding your head as you wrapped your arms around him.

“Let’s go to your place? I’m really tired and I honestly just want to get as much sleep as I can.”

You could feel Shoto smile into your shoulder, before nodding. You were about to push him off of you, so you could both get what you need and walk out together, a sudden force whooshed you off your feet, arms grabbing at you and carrying you in a bridal position.

“Shoto!” You squealed, holding on to his shoulders.

He just softly chuckled once more, as he carried you out of the office, nothing but smiles on the two of you’s faces.

___

Taglist: @tremendouswolfsaladranch @simi0603 @tanakasprayer @kirishimaisthatbitch @theadorkablezaza @katemocha @pineapplejuic3 @kehlaniwwe @honeylavender13 @p102ab @maybeisthemoon @dark-yuh @introvertatitsfinest @lazymooneye @yzviea @fan-girling-over-everything @@chscklvr @dragonsdreamoffire @superheros-and-others @gabbygibbsgirl

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shslrose · 4 years ago

Text

SDR2 Boys React to You Flinching

Nagito, Gundham, and Fuyuhiko react to you thinking that they were going to hit you.

Nagito Komaeda

Arguments with Nagito are few and far between, something which you are incredibly grateful for. You cared for him deeply, and he felt the same way about you. After arriving on Jabberwock Island, the two of you spent almost all of your time together. Even after his outburst at the first trial, you stayed by his side.

But, ever since the Funhouse, Nagito had been acting strange. You noticed it immediately, but every time you tried to bring it up, he just brushed you off. You decided you would bring it up again today, so you walked up to his cottage and knocked on the door. Wordlessly, he let you in and closed the door behind you. As you entered, you couldn’t help but notice how tense he seemed; he moved around stiffly, as though something were troubling him.

“Nagito, I’m worried about you,” you said, standing behind him, with no way of reading his expression. “Did something happen in the Octagon-”

“I never asked you to worry about me.” His voice was cold.

“...Nagito?” You asked, placing a hand on his shoulder and gently turning him towards you. He relaxed into your touch and turned to face you.

You looked into his eyes, and you found nothing but his pained stare aimed back at you. There was a sort of distance in his gaze, as though his mind was somewhere else entirely. Your hand slipped down to his arm as you tried to pull him closer and bring his attention back to the present. You had no way of knowing that right now, he was recalling the events of the Octagon.

Nagito held the Hope’s Peak Academy files in his hands. He turned the pages eagerly, but stopped dead in his tracks when he reached the end of the file and realised he never saw your profile.

Yours were the only one missing...

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He questioned you, his voice calm and unwavering. He closed his eyes as he awaited your response, noting that your hand still rested on his arm. “T-tell you?” You asked. “Tell you what..?”

“That you’re the traitor, obviously.” He opened his eyes then, and you could see a crazed look in his stare. It was almost as if hope and despair swirled within his light eyes.

“What?” You exclaimed, taken aback by the accusation. “I’m not the traitor!”

A sigh of what seemed like annoyance left his pale lips. In one swift movement, he raised his right hand, intending to swat you away from his left arm.

He watched as your body tensed up and you closed your eyes as though you were bracing yourself.

“Y/N… did you… did you think that I…?” His voice was hardly stronger than a whisper, and he couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence.

A soft gasp left your lips. He sounded so hurt and a wave of guilt ran through you. You hadn’t meant to flinch, but when you saw him raise his hand, you just couldn’t help it. Overwhelmed by emotion, you felt tears well up in your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you cried softly, squeezing your eyes shut in an attempt to stop your tears. You felt Nagito wrap his arms around you, enveloping you into a warm hug.

“No, I’m sorry,” he countered, pulling you close. “I was tricked by Monokuma, he removed your profile from the file to make me suspect you. I was trying to test you to see if you were the traitor, but I took it too far and accidentally scared you. I really am the worst…”

You understood now: Monokuma had made him think you were the traitor, causing him to act cold and distant. When he accused you of being the traitor, it was because he wanted to see your reaction so he could confirm or deny it, but then he had accidentally scared you.

“It’s alright,” you reassured him, leaning further into his embrace.

“Y/N, I swear, I’ll never hurt you.”

In that moment, you felt safe in his arms.

Gundham Tanaka

“Abandon your overdependence and complaints this instant,” Gundham muttered, rolling his eyes. “Those have no place in this world.”

You took a second to think back to how you had gotten to this point. You had come to Gundham’s dorm to spend some time with him, when you found one of Sonia’s fancy pens on his desk. After you brought it up to him, he admitted that he had been studying with her the night before, at which point the two of you had quickly fallen into an intense argument.

“Overdependence?!” You laughed bitterly. “You’re the one who can’t seem to do anything without that stupid princess by your side!”

“Y/N, I’ve already told you, she is but a mere friend!”

“Don’t lie to me!” you shout. “She’s in love with you, it’s obvious! She’s always flirting with you and you never tell her to stop!”

He sighed as he tried to find the right words, but none would come out. You scoffed and turned away from him. He watched as your hips sway as you began to storm out of the room.

“Y/N, you understand nothing at all!” he called out to you, growing less calm with each word. He took a few steps towards you, intending to prevent you from leaving.

“Just stop!” You shouted, as you turned to face him. “I’m done with this, so don’t bother chasing me!”

He threw his hand up in an act of frustration, and you felt a sudden fear that he would strike you. Without thinking, you closed your eyes, letting a quiet gasp leave your lips as you braced yourself. Confusion spread throughout Gundham’s mind as he watched you flinch away from him. His expression quickly softened as he realised he had scared you.

You opened your eyes, and he could see tears welling up in them.

“Y/N...” he said your name softly. There was a gentle kindness in his voice as he spoke to you. “Know this: I shall never harm you. Even if it is our destiny to clash, even if my devilish temper flares…”

You threw yourself into his arms then, allowing him to envelop you in a warm embrace. “I know,” you cried quietly against his chest.

“I...I love you, Y/N.” He declared boldly, his face reddening as he did so.

“..?!” You couldn’t help but gasp at his words.

“I love you, and only you,” Gundham affirmed as he held you in his arms.

“I love you too, Gundham.”

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu

It was nearly two in the morning, and your boyfriend, Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu, was still not home. He had left earlier that evening on some Yakuza business, saying he would be back before midnight, and so you grew more worried with each minute that passed. It was a dangerous, not to mention illegal, line of work, but he was dedicated to his family business. You couldn’t help but worry for his safety every time he left the house.

You paced around your shared bedroom anxiously, a million thoughts racing through your mind. You were just beginning to consider calling his phone when you heard the doorknob turn.

Fuyuhiko walked in, and you let out a sigh of relief. You ran over to him, pulling into a hug.

“Fuyu~!” You exclaimed, making him blush at the use of the nickname.

“I-I told you to stop calling me that..!” He scolded you, but you had a sneaking suspicion that he liked it.

“I’m so glad you’re ok!” You admitted as you let go, releasing him from the embrace. You noticed that he smelled lightly of cherry blossoms.

“Tch, of course I’m okay,” he scoffed. “You didn’t need to wait up for me.”

“‘Of course I’m okay’?” You repeated back to him, narrowing your gaze as you did so. “What’s that supposed to mean? You said you’d be back by midnight and it’s nearly two in the-”

“Would you stop treating me like a damn kid!?” He spat angrily. “I said I’m fine, so just leave it alone.”

Even with you, he still had his outbursts sometimes. It’s late, you reasoned, he’s just tired or something.

“I’m not trying to treat you like a kid,” you tried to explain. “I was just worried about you, alright? You could have sent a text or something, I didn’t know if you were okay and I was starting to think something bad happened.”

“I never asked you to worry about me!” He snapped. “I’m not just some Yakuza, I’m the heir to my clan… I can take care of myself, so would you quit fucking worrying!”

“You’re not invincible, Fuyu!” You shouted, growing angrier. “I know that you’re strong, but that doesn’t mean everything is in your control!”

“So what, it’s in yours?!” He scoffed. “You obviously don’t think I can handle shit out there...You’re just like Peko, always treating me like a damn kid…!”

“Huh..?” You asked, confused. “Peko..what does she have to do with this?”

His eyes widened slightly at your question, and he quickly avoided it. “N-nothing! I was just.. Ugh, just forget it!”

“Okay.. look, I don’t want to argue with you,” you said softly, trying to diffuse the situation. “I’m just saying it’s hard for me when you just disappear without a text-”

“And what would a fucking text do?” He spat, ridiculing your suggestion without mercy. “What, tell you where to find my damn corpse? How fucking useless…Stop worrying all the damn time and just get over it!”

His words cut you deep, causing tears to well up in your eyes. You heard him let out a strained sigh. He raised his hand up to his head in an act of frustration. Your tears clouded your vision, and for a moment you thought he was going to strike you. Fear ran through your heart as you flinched and stumbled back a few steps, falling onto the bed behind you.

“Y/N…? What the hell are you…?” His eyes widened with realization. “...! D-don’t tell me you… you thought I was going to…!”

You couldn’t even reply, the words choked up in your throat as tears rolled down your face. In an instant, he was kneeling in front of you.

“Y/N, I’m so fucking sorry,” he apologized profusely. “I...I..How could I have..fuck, I’m sorry.”

He sighed again before continuing, “It’s no excuse but… Peko got hurt tonight. She jumped in front of me, like I needed protecting or some shit… always treating me like a damn kid…”

“Is she alright?” You asked, immediately feeling concerned for his close friend.

“Yeah, she’s gonna be okay. The whole thing just had me on edge tonight, and I took it out on you.. That’s not okay, and I shouldn’t have yelled at you. And..I’m sorry for scaring you, I...I never want to make you worry like that again. I’ll work hard to earn your forgiveness, and your trust.”

“It’s alright, I forgive you,” You assured him that you forgave him, in order to repeat the events of the last time he kneeled during an apology (in which he ended up slitting his stomach). “I’m not scared of you.. It was just an instinct, I guess…”

“Still, I was wrong to yell at you like that,” he admitted, avoiding your gaze.

“I told you, it's alright.” You assured him again, before giving him a teasing smile. “Now, will you finally come to bed with me, Fuyu~”

“I-I told you not to call me that, damnit!” His voice cracked slightly as he spoke, and his face was dusted pink. Still, he joined you, wrapping his arms around you as the two of you cuddled in bed.

----------

Read Part Two (Hajime, Kazuichi, and Izuru react to you flinching) here!

----------

a/n - thank you for reading this, oh and requests are open, so send some in!

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kurokoros · 5 years ago

Text

liar liar | bakugou katsuki

Rated: M

Words: 9.4K

Pairing: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader

Summary: Of all the things he’s experienced working as a Pro Hero, Bakugou never expected his dick getting too big to ever be a problem, let alone one in his top ten.

Bakugou is hit with a strange quirk. You reap the benefits.

AN: This fic is 50% crack and 50% raunchy smut. I have zero explanations for this. Also big thanks to @lady-bakuhoe for ranting with me once about the fandoms weird level of hatred towards Bakugou, thus inspiring me to write something for him. I’m so sorry it was this.

Warnings: smut, language, oral sex (m receiving), dom/sub undertones, rough sex, degradation, spanking, choking, inappropriate use of quirks

***

Of all the things he’s experienced working as a Pro Hero, Bakugou never expected his dick getting too big to ever be a problem, let alone one in his top ten.

Kirishima glances at him out of the corner of his eye as they step into Bakugou’s office, red eyes narrowing in concern as he sees Bakugou’s gritted teeth and clenched fists. “Are you sure you’re okay, bro?” he asks, a little hesitant.

“I’m fine,” Bakugou practically snarls between his teeth. Fuck. The tingling sensation starts in his gut, heat spreading through his limbs, and he nearly swears aloud as the sensation shifts to his dick, his boxer-briefs getting uncomfortably tighter. Shit, he’s probably up to at least another inch by now. Thank god his pants are baggy.

Unfortunately, Kirishima isn’t so easily convinced. Brows furrowing, he looks Bakugou over slowly, searching for any lasting effects from their earlier scuffle with a few low rank villains. “You’ve been acting kind of… strange,” he settles on after an awkward beat of silence, “since you got hit by that quirk. You know, you probably should have gone to a—”

“I said I’m—” Bakugou cuts himself off as that tingle comes back. “I’ll be fine,” he corrects himself. The tingle goes away, and he almost groans in relief as his dick returns to its normal size. “Drop it, Kirishima.”

Kirishima holds his hands up in front of him, placating his huffy friend. “Okay, okay. I get it.” He backs off, still eyeing Bakugou warily as he pulls his phone from his pocket. He glances at the time. “Look, man, I gotta go. I have a date in twenty, and she’s gonna kill me if I’m late again.” His smile is apologetic, but exhausted.

“Whatever.” Bakugou tosses off one of his gauntlets, letting it clatter against the floor noisily. Breathing slowly through his nose, he peels off his mask as well, setting it down on his desk. It’s fine. Everything is fine. He can handle this. It’s just a really fucking annoying quirk that’ll probably go away on it’s own by the end of the day.

Another tingle stirs in his gut, and then his underwear tightens again.

Fuck. He can’t even lie to himself.

Just as casually as before, Kirishima says, “Yeah, and since I figured you shouldn’t be alone, I called you a babysitter,” as he types out a quick text on his phone. If that wasn’t bad enough, Kirishima calls out your name in a sing-song voice.

Bakugou drops his other gauntlet on his foot and whirls around. “You what?” he hisses, only half because of the pain. The sound of your name definitely doesn’t cause his heart to do something stupid like flutter in his chest. And his pants definitely don’t get snug around his crotch as he blatantly lies to himself. “Kirishima, what the fuck? Why would you call her?”

Taken aback by the outburst, Kirishima puts his phone away and shrugs. “I figured she’d make you feel better.”

“I don’t fucking want her here,” Bakugou tells him. Nothing happens in his pants. Like the bullshit quirk affecting his dick can’t decide if that’s a lie or not. Hell, Bakugou isn’t really sure either. Sure, he likes having you around, even if he’d never admit it. He likes seeing your pretty smile as you come flouncing into his office wearing one of those little skirts that make him want to bend you over his desk and—

He squeezes his eyes shut, banishing the thought before it can go any further and his pants grow any tighter from non-quirk related reasons.

On the other hand, you’re quite possibly the last person he ever wants to see him like this. Too bad the universe seems intent on fucking him over today.

“Nice to see you too, Bakugou.”

The sound of your voice hits him like a lightning strike, still sweet despite the sarcastic inflection of your tone. Bolts of electricity shoot up his spine. In his chest, his heart pounds viciously against his ribs, and Bakugou’s shoulders tense as every one of his senses suddenly becomes a tune to you. Even from across the room, the scent of your perfume tickles at his nose—something floral or fruity that he doesn’t recognize, but it’s heavy and enticing and he tries not to shiver as it wraps around him.

He doesn’t dare turn to look at you as you take a step further into his office, determinedly staring at the wall and hoping you’ll leave with Kirishima. Yeah, un-fucking-likely.

When his silence persists, you roll your eyes and turn to Kirishima instead, the pinched expression on your face relaxing into a pleasant smile when you meet the eyes of the more friendly half of the duo. “Thanks for calling, Kiri,” you say, smoothing out your skirt.

A wide grin is the response you get. “Of course,” Kirishima says, stretching out and linking his fingers behind his head. “Figured he’d listen to you over anyone else.” He ignores the glare Bakugou sends his way, his lips twitching in amusement at the stark silence coming from the explosive blond.

You scoff. “Hardly, but I’ll try.” Casting a glance at Bakugou, you’re a little glad he seems intent on ignoring you, because it gives you the perfect opportunity to give him a slow once-over—for injuries, of course. He looks fine to you, a few superficial scrapes and bruises, but nothing severe enough for Kirishima to call you.

The tension in his shoulders is the first thing you notice. Bakugou is awkwardly hunched over himself in a way that isn’t like him at all. Usually, the Pro Hero exudes confidence that would border on cockiness if he didn’t have the skills to back it up, but right now he just looks... uncomfortable. What little of his face you can see is pinched, but not in annoyance; it’s more like pain, you realize, but then his expression melts into one of relief and you’re left baffled once again.

Before you can think too hard about it, your gaze wanders lower and you’re promptly distracted by his bare arms.

Kirishima clears his throat when you stare at Bakugou’s biceps a little too long.

“What happened anyway?” you ask, turning back to Kirishima. Your face feels warm, and by the way he grins you can tell he notices your faint blush. “You didn’t say much on the phone.”

He sobers a little as you bring the conversation back to the other Hero. The humor bleeds from his eyes, his shoulders drooping. “Yeah, sorry about that,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t have much time. We ran into a couple of villains on patrol. One of them caught Bakubro off guard and he got hit with their quirk. Wouldn’t let anyone check him out after.” He shrugs halfheartedly, looking at you apologetically. “You know how he gets.”

Don’t you ever. You’ve never met someone as stubborn as Bakugou before in your life. He can be a real pain in the ass when he wants, and you can’t blame Kirishima for his best friend being a dumbass.

You prop your hands on your hips, eyes narrowing in on Bakugou again. “How long has he been sulking?” you ask just loud enough for Bakugou to hear you.

Ruby eyes pin you with a heavy glower that would probably make anyone else piss themselves. Bakugou’s lip pulls back in a snarl, his teeth bared, and you ignore the pleasant tingle that shoots down your spine. “I’m not fucking sulking!” he snaps at you, making your eyes roll.

“Sure you aren’t.” Before he can start arguing with you, you turn back to Kirishima. “What do we know about this quirk?”

“Nothing. Cops are questioning the guy now, but he’s not talking.” Kirishima gestures to Bakugou with his thumb. “And Ground Zero here keeps saying he’s fine.”

Across the room, Bakugou grumbles to himself under his breath, noticeably displeased with your lack of attention, but like hell he’s going to say anything about it. Jealousy is a bitter taste in the back of his mouth, and for once he can’t even pretend that’s not what it is as his glare shifts to Kirishima. Fuck, he wants you to look at him again. Pay attention to him.

The honesty is surprising to him, but he keeps his mouth shut and definitely doesn’t pout as you and Kirishima continue to chat like he isn’t even there. When it becomes clear that you aren’t going to end the conversation immediately, Bakugou huffs and turns around, glaring as he leans back against his desk, watching the two of you. His gaze skips right over Kirishima and lands on you, and he swallows back a frustrated groan when he finally gets a good look at you.

Fuck, you look good today. Unable to help himself, he’s absolutely shameless as he stares at your legs, your short skirt and high heels making them look even longer than usual. Bakugou grits his teeth as his mind drifts to those legs wrapping around his hips and yanking him closer. For once, he allows the thought to linger, lost in his own head.

“I see,” you murmur as your conversation with Kirishima comes to a close. With your lips pursed in thought, your gaze shifts back to Bakugou, only to find him already staring right back at you, watching you intently. Your pulse jumps under his piercing gaze, and it takes everything in you to break eye contact with him and smile at Kirishima instead. “I’ll take care of it. Have fun on your date, Kiri.”

Kirishima shoots you a megawatt smile and a thumbs up.“Will do! Good luck with this guy!” He pays no attention to Bakugou’s grumbling as he heads out the door, closing it quietly behind him, leaving you and Bakugou alone together in an office far away from other people.

Yeah, this should be fun.

You twist on your heels so that you’re facing Bakugou directly. Trying for a charming smile, you prop your hands on your hips. He glares at you and crosses his arms over his chest, clearly not planning on cooperating. And boy does it give you an excellent view of his muscled forearms, all tanned skin and silver scars from years of hero work. You wet your lips, suddenly thirsty.

“Okay, Ground Zero,” you start, giddily noticing the way he puffs up at your use of his hero name, “are you going to tell me what’s wrong or do we have to do this the hard way?” Your voice lowers at the end, coming out as a husky whisper.

Bakugou’s throat bobs with a harsh swallow, and he grits his teeth against the pleasant warmth that curls in his chest. “Piss off,” he bites out, a low and dangerous edge to his voice that you easily ignore.

If you hadn’t known him for years, maybe it would be intimidating, but despite his gruff attitude and biting tone, you know he would never lay a hand on you. “Come on, Bakugou,” you try again, taking a step towards him as a small pout forms on your lips. “Please tell me? I just want to help and make you feel better.”

The breathy whine you let out paired with you wanting to make him feel better does absolutely nothing to help the situation going on in his pants.

His gaze slides to the side, avoiding your eyes as he tells you to “Just go home,” because he doesn’t want to see the disappointment there.

But you don’t back down. You can be just as stubborn as him when you want to be, and there’s no way in hell you’re leaving just so he can cling to his manly pride, or whatever it is he’s worried about. Clearly, asking nicely isn’t going to work. Honestly, you’d be more surprised if it did. “Hard way it is.”

Bakugou’s eyes widen, and his head snaps towards you just in time for you to launch yourself at him. It’s a bit difficult, between your skirt and heels, but you catch him off guard, and that helps. He tries to twist away at the last second, leaving you to cling to his back, limbs wrapping around him tightly. A surprised grunt escapes his at your sudden weight on him, but he doesn’t even stumble, letting you curl your body around him in a one-sided hug.

“Get off me, loser,” he growls at you, glaring at you over his shoulder. Despite his irritation, Bakugou makes no move to shake you off. In fact, one of his big hands latches onto your leg when you start to slip, allowing you to shift yourself for a better grip. He lets go of you just as quickly, standing stock still in the middle of the room while glaring at everything that isn’t you.

Your fingers dig into his shoulder where you’re grabbing him. “Not until you tell me what’s wrong!”

This time, he does try to shake you off, and you squeal as your grip starts to slip. “I’m fine!” he snaps at you, only to wince a second later.

Ever the opportunist, you don’t think twice before hooking your leg around him and going for his knees. Bakugou swears as he loses his balance, and somehow you manage to knock him to the floor using a grappling move that he taught you. He ends up rolling in time to land on his back, cushioning your fall aa your knees press against the floor on either side of his hips, straddling him as you pin him with a firm look. Long fingers grasp at your upper thighs, his thumbs grazing the hem of your skirt, and he lets you go just as quickly, as if you’ve burned him

Bakugou looks like he’d rather be anywhere else, but, again, he makes no move to shove you away, though he definitely could.

“Oh, yeah, clearly you’re just fine,” you reply, sarcasm laid on thick. Your hands are pressed against his chest for balance as you regain your bearings, and you can feel the angry breath he takes. Bakugou is warm and solid beneath you, hips pressed snug against yours. It feels way too good, but that’s not what you need to be thinking about at this moment. “Now stop acting like a baby and tell me what’s going on.”

Looking up at you, Bakugou sighs when your fierce look doesn’t relent. He mutters something under his breath that’s too low for you to make out clearly, then grimaces. “It’s nothing,” he tells you again, a harsh edge to his voice.

You pin him with a glare. “You got hit by a strange quirk, Bakugou,” you tell him slowly, contempt dripping from every word. “That’s not nothing.” The crack in your voice on the last word is what makes him drop the sour look on his face. You wince, fingers curling tighter around his shirt, like that might keep you grounded. All the fear you felt when Kirishima called you earlier comes surging back through you, and it feels like a blow to the ribs. You stare at his chest as you continue, the words bubbling up and out before you can stop them. “I know you. You’re too damn prideful to go see a doctor and admit something is wron—and that scares me sometimes, you know? One day you could get really hurt.” Slowly, you force your eyes up, meeting his stare with your own tentative one. “Please, just tell me what’s wrong. For me?”

Bakugou’s expression softens nearly an imperceptible amount. His glare smooths out. “Fuck,” he growls under his breath, trying to ignore the violent tug on his heartstrings that comes with that pleading look in your eyes. He’s always been a sucker for you, and you damn well know it too.

But he’s not going to give in this time.

The tingle that goes straight to his crotch proves him very wrong.

You freeze above him, body locking up as something big and hard presses against your inner thigh. “Katsuki,” you say, forcing yourself not to react aside from the widening of your eyes. “Is that your…”

“Yeah,” he replies, jaw clenched. His tone is nothing short of mocking when he tacks on, “You’re sitting on my cock, sweetheart.”

Well, shit. You blink at him owlishly, mouth opening and closing soundlessly as you try to think of literally anything to say in this situation that isn’t stupid, crass, or a blatant change of subject. It’s surprisingly hard to think with his bulge pressed up against your leg like this, and you blurt the first thing that comes to mind. “Are you turned on right now?” you ask incredulously, jabbing a finger into his chest. “I swear to God, Katsuki, I’m trying to be serious here, and you—”

He cuts you off. “I’m not fucking hard.” A pair of big, rough hands latch onto your thighs to keep you from squirming over his lap. “But if you keep moving around like that, I will be.”

“You liar.” A gasp sticks in your throat as he tightens his grip on your legs. By this point, you’re pretty sure you’re blushing, but honestly, you can’t find it in you to care when you are, in fact, basically sitting on his lap. Besides, Bakugou doesn’t look that much better. “If you were that big while soft, I’m pretty sure I would have noticed by now.”

Well that catches his attention. A smug smile stretches across his face. All teeth. “You spend a lot of time looking at it, angel?” Oh, this time he’s definitely mocking you. The palms of his hands slide up your thighs until his fingertips graze the hem of your skirt where it’s hiked partway up your legs, revealing a few tantalizing inches of your bare skin.

“Oh, no, you aren’t changing the subject,” you snap at him, sitting up a little straighter. “Why the hell is your dick so big, and what the fuck is going on?”

Your questions echo awkwardly through the otherwise silent room. For a tense moment, Bakugou just glares up at you. One of his eyes twitches slightly, his lips turned down in a grimace. You don’t relent, glaring right back at him. Eventually, one of you is going to have to give in, and it’s sure as shit not going to be you this time.

“Fuck.” He squeezes his eyes shut and tilts his head back against the floor. His fingers bite into your thighs when you shift on top of him, leaning a little closer. “It’s that dumbass villain’s quirk,” he sneers, baring his teeth in a snarl as he opens his eyes again. There’s nothing that could possibly prepare you for what he says next. “When I lie my cock gets bigger.”

You almost laugh. Almost. The deathly serious look in his eyes is the only thing that keeps you from bursting into a fit of giggles. And you believe him. You probably wouldn’t if you weren’t currently straddling his lap and sitting on his abnormally large cock. But, yeah. Sure. His dick gets bigger when he lies, and somehow that makes perfect sense.

“What, like some kind of kinky lie detector?” You almost suggest Pinocchio, but you doubt he’d take that well at all.

Predictably, he makes a face at your comparison. “Sure. Whatever.”

Again, neither of you say anything, letting an awkward silence develop between you. While Bakugou just looks all around uncomfortable with the situation, your brow is pinched in thought. Honestly, this quirk seems like some bullshit. You can’t imagine what benefit anyone would get out of making someone’s dick grow when they lie, aside from the exact situation you’re currently in. You almost feel worse for the poor sap stuck with such a bizarre quirk than the Pro Hero currently lying between your legs.

A full body shiver runs through you, and every nerve suddenly becomes highly aware of the man beneath you. Every breath he takes moves his chest beneath your hands, and you can feel the rapid beating of his heart beneath your palm. The tips of his fingers ghost against your thighs, not quite touching you, like he isn’t sure what to do with his hands anymore. And, suddenly, all you can think about are those hands grabbing you by the hips and grinding you down against him.

Unbeknownst to you, similar thoughts are wreaking havoc on Bakugou. From where you’re sitting on top of him, he has a perfect view of your legs and chest, and every time you shift, the movement goes straight to his cock. He almost hisses between his teeth as your thighs tighten around his hips, which only presses the growing bulge in his pants harder against you. His fingers twitch against your legs. It would be so easy for him to roll the two of you over, pin you beneath him, and show you exactly what you do to him. Fuck you senseless until you—

“What are you thinking right now?”

The question is like a hard slap across the face. His eyes snap from the apex of your legs to your face, caught red-handed. There’s no way for him to get out of this one without his dick giving him away or an actual slap across the face. He chooses his traitor dick. “That I want you to get the fuck off me.”

You look entirely unimpressed when his dick moves between your legs, growing larger in seconds. “Liar,” you deadpan. You drum your fingers against his chest, unintentionally matching the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “Tell me the truth and maybe I’ll move.” Nevermind that he could definitely throw you across the room one handed if he really wanted to. Frankly, you’re a little surprised he hasn’t already, given your current situation.

Not that you want to move right now. You’re quite comfortable where you are.

Bakugou’s tongue swipes across his bottom lip. Those ruby eyes drag down your body slowly, shamelessly drinking in the sight of you sitting on top of him. An unexpected lick of run runs along your spine; your breath catches. “You look really fucking sexy right now,” he tells you, and his hands grab your thighs again.

It takes a second for you to register his confession, though you can’t say you’re that surprised. “Huh. Never pegged you as a guy who wanted someone on top.” You can work with that.

His brow furrows. “You know, you’re taking this surprisingly well.”

“I work in quirk registration for the police,” you remind him, shrugging. “This isn’t the weirdest thing I’ve come across.” Honestly, you aren’t even sure it makes the top ten, but you keep that to yourself. You get the feeling he’d take that as some kind of challenge, and you don’t need that kind of stress in your life. “How long has it been like this?”

A shrug. “Shit, I don’t know.” Bakugou shifts beneath you, craning his neck to look at the clock on the wall. “Thirty minutes, maybe. Why?”

“Effects from quirks like this typically only last an hour or two,” you explain. “Maybe twenty-four hours at most, depending on how much training the user has.” Your head cocks to the side as you give him an entirely unsubtle once-over. “It sounds like he didn’t give you and Kirishima much trouble though. I’d put your... little problem at an hour and a half maximum. You should be fine.”

There’s a wicked look in his eyes. “Nothing little about it, babe.” His palms slide up your legs, rucking up your skirt even higher on his way to grab your hips. “Hour left, huh?” A low hum rumbles through his chest. “I can work with that.”

You freeze. “Katsuki, what are you—”

“Look,” he cuts you off with an irritated sigh, “I’ve liked you for a long time, so if you want to fuck right now, that’s fine with me.” Heartbreaking honesty shines in his eyes, only partially masked by a layer of annoyance and boredom, like he doesn’t care either way. The way his fingers dig into your hips tells a different story.

Your eyes widen at his crass confession, your lips parting as you stare down at Bakugou in shock. “Are you…” you hesitate, swallowing down the sudden lump in your throat as your fingers curl against his shirt. “Are you serious?”

Bakugou glares at you, but his faint blush gives him away. “You’re the one sitting on my magic cock, you tell me.”

You sit there for a good minute, just staring at him, mouth opening and closing soundlessly as you try to think of any kind of response. Eventually, you settle on, “That is, by far, the worst declaration of love I’ve ever heard.”

If you thought he was glaring before, it has nothing on the look he levels you with now. “Who fucking said anything about loving you, dumbass?” he snaps, huffing, cheeks turning an even darker shade of pink. “Like hell I do!” He grits his teeth as his dick tingles.

“Yeah, well, your magic cock reveals your deceit,” you mock him. “You’re such an emotionally stunted pain in the ass, Katsuki!”

He opens his mouth—probably to start yelling about something—but you lurch forward and meet his mouth in a fierce kiss before he can say anything. He grunts in surprise and squeeze your hips, but kisses you back eagerly, immediately tilting his chin for a better angle. The hands that were on your hips don’t hesitate to move. One slides up your back to fist in your hair, pulling you closer as the other drops to your ass. A hard grope makes you gasp against his lips, your fingers clenching tighter in the front of his hero suit.

Before things can get too heavy, too fast, you pull back, leaving just an inch of space between your lips. He doesn’t let you go much further. “I like you, too,” you whisper against him. He stiffens as your fingers touch his bare chest where his hero suit doesn’t cover him.

His heart is pounding just as quickly as yours, and he’d never admit it, but he swears your little confession does something funny to his chest. All of it does. The heat of your breath. The gentle weight of your body on top of his. Something about you makes him feel inexplicably soft, and he wants to hate that feeling, but he still can’t lie to himself without his cock growing two sizes. And if he’s going to stuff you full of his cock, he wants it to be all him.

At least at first.

With the hand still tangled in your hair, Bakugou yanks you back down. Your lips mold against his perfectly, the space left between you nonexistent. When he kisses you it’s all teeth and tongue, and your lips part readily beneath his demanding touch. He makes a low sound of approval in the back of his throat, slotting his lips harder against yours. Using the hand cupping the back of your head, he adjusts you above him, tilting your chin until he finds a position he likes.

The dominating way he touches you makes you keen, and your quiet whimper is smothered by his tongue delving into your mouth to taste you. Your legs tremble on either side of his hips as the hand on your ass gropes you again. By now, your skirt is hiked halfway up your waist, and if anyone were to walk in they’d get a perfect view of your ass and the damp spot forming between your thighs.

You arch into his touch at the thought, moaning as his teeth tug at your lip.

By the time you pull away, you both have kiss-swollen lips.

When Bakugou recalls what you called him a moment ago, he chuckles, deep and throaty, and it sends a thrilled shiver up your spine. “I’ll show you a real pain in the ass later, sweetheart,” he promises, squeezing your ass cheek for good measure. The squeeze is followed by a sharp slap, and you lurch forward, a startled squeal slipping out of your mouth.

You glare down at him. Well, you try to. It’s a little hard to pretend to be mad at him when his hand comes up to rub the spot where he smacked you, which only presses your hips closer to his growing bulge. Your tone is dry when you say, “I’m sure you will.” And then, because he’s already propositioned you and has his hand on your ass, you grind yourself against his dick.

“Shit,” he grunts, grabbing your hips. His fingers bite into your skin, twitching like he doesn’t know if he wants to still you or shove you down on his cock. A slow exhale hisses through his teeth. “You tryin’ to be a cock tease?”

The satisfaction that bubbles up in you only feeds the damp heat between your legs. He’s hardly touched you, but you can already feel yourself getting wet just from the thought of him filling you. You brace yourself against him, palms pressed flat against his chest. “You want me to stop?” Purposefully fluttering your eyelashes at him, you slowly work your hand lower, fingers grazing over lean muscle until you stop at his waist, pressing down on his belt.

As your eyes start to follow the path of your hand, Bakugou reaches out and grabs your chin. A warning squeeze makes you mewl expectantly. “Keep talking, baby, and I'll put that mouth to better use.” The pad of his thumb traces your bottom lip. Before he can let go, you tilt your head into his touch, teeth barely grazing his finger as you nip at him. “Such a little brat,” he sneers.

You’re thrown off balance when he sits up. His abdominal muscles flex against your stomach as he crushes you against his chest, and your hands fly to his shoulders, desperate for something to hold onto. Bakugou kisses you again, lips hungry and demanding as they press against yours, and you give him complete control. He tilts your chin, pulls your hair, bites your lips, and every touch makes you feel hazy and warm.

Anticipation churns in your stomach. Your hands slide over his shoulders, looping around his neck. He grunts when your wrist brushes against the side of his neck, and when you card your fingers through his hair and tug, he lets out a sound that goes right to your core.

The hand on your ass gives you another sharp spank. The motion jerks your hips against his, and you grind down against the hard cock rubbing your inner thigh. His fingers knead your ass and the back of your thigh, groping and squeezing and helping your hips along as you rock languidly over his lap. Each roll of your hips has his cock dragging across your damp panties, the head kissing your clit through the layers of your clothes. You shudder, lost in the feeling.

You’re only half aware of him moving, not noticing until the hand that was in your hair slips beneath your shirt to palm your breast. An appreciative squeeze has you arching into him, hips stuttering against his. Bakugou nips at your bottom lip hard enough to make you whimper, and when he pulls away you’re sure it’s swollen and flushed from his treatment.

But he doesn’t leave you for long. You’re barely given a moment to breathe before his mouth is on your jaw, your cheek, your chin. Bakugou trails heated, open-mouthed kisses down the side of your neck, only stopping when he finds a spot that has you lurching against him, a pretty little moan falling from your mouth. He laves attention to that spot, right over your racing pulse. Teeth dig into your sensitive neck, and your breath catches in your throat as he begins to suck, intent on leaving a mark. You don’t stop him as he works a hickey just below your jaw, eyes fluttering shut at the onslaught of sensation.

Before leaving that spot, he drags his tongue across your neck to soothe the bruise he’s left behind.

Desire curls in your chest as a thought comes to mind, and you’re too slow to stop it from spilling out. “I wanna touch you,” you choke out as his mouth trails lower. Bakugou pauses, lips hovering just shy of your throat. The heat of his breath fans your damp skin, sending little pinpricks of electricity all the way to where your hips are grinding against his. You swallow, one hand fisting in the back of his shirt as his thumb brushes against the lacy cup of your bra.

“Already are, baby,” he says, partly muffled by your neck as he ghosts his lips against you. “Grinding against my cock like a little slut. Gonna get yourself off for me just like that?” He’s hiding a smirk. It’s clear what you want by the way your hips roll against his faster, grinding down harder as teasing touches turn desperate, but he wants to hear you say it. He wants you begging for his cock before he fucks you.

He ruts against you, alternating between squeezing your breast and ass.

“Bakugou!” You try to sound reprimanding, but his name comes out as a breathy whine. There’s no way for you to get your hand on him with the way he has you pressed flush against his chest. And he’s definitely not going to make things easy for you.

As if he knows what you’re thinking, the man beneath you laughs. “You want it that bad, you better take it yourself, sweetheart.”

Huffing, you try to put some space between your hips, but his grip is firm. Bakugou swats your ass when you try to move, and you whimper as it forces your hips harder against his. You try a second time, and he pinches your nipple through the flimsy cup of your bra. Your head falls back with a moan, giving him greater access to your throat, and he smirks as he bites down on your soft skin.

Fine. You can play this game, too.

With a sharp grind of your hips, you rub your clit against him just right. Your back arches. Your thighs tense around his hips. “Ground Zero,” comes out as a needy whine against his ear. You feel him tense beneath you, his grip faltering for just a second. That’s all you need.

The momentary distraction is all you need to slide back on his thighs, putting just enough space between your hips to grab his belt and grind the heel of your hand against the massive bulge straining against his pants. Even through his pants you can feel how thick and long he is, and your pussy clenches at the thought of him fucking you senseless.

He grunts as you palm him, squeezing gently as you trace the outline of his cock. His mouth leaves your neck with a wet pop. “Shit,” Bakugou murmurs. Soft strands of his spiky hair tickle the side of your neck as he rests his head against you, reveling in the feel of your light touches.

Your fingers brush against the back of his neck, your palm grinding against him when his hips rock forward. Strong muscles flex beneath your thighs. Bakugou’s throat bobs with a harsh swallow.

Unable to stop yourself, you duck your head, pressing your lips against the side of his neck. It’s hard to find an angle with the bracers around his neck, and your attention turns to the front of his throat instead. Bakugou groans as you kiss him, lovebites and lipstick stains left in the wake of your mouth. He lets you kiss and nip your way down to his collarbone.

Thank god for the low cut of his shirt, you think, biting down on his chest hard enough to leave a mark. At the same time, your fingers grasp at his belt, nearly snapping the buckle in your hurry to get your hand on him. Somewhere in the back of your mind you’re aware of him saying something—calling you needy or naughty, you aren’t sure which—but you don’t care as you finally get your hand in his pants and grab his dick.

“You’re so big,” you murmur, eyes widening. The tips of your fingers don’t touch as you wrap your hand around his cock, stroking him languidly from base to tip. You can’t get a good look at him from your position, but you can feel every ridge and vein of his shaft, and you bite your lip at the sheer girth of him. “Is this from the quirk?” you ask him, swirling your thumb over the tip before dragging your hand back down, giving him a firm squeeze. You lean back a little, wanting to look at him, but Bakugou lurches forward to get his mouth on you again.

He groans against your ear, pressing a harsh kiss against the side of your jaw. “All me, babe,” he tells you, smug. For once, you really can’t blame him for being cocky. “Fuck, that feels good.”

The way your soft hand slides against his shaft wrecks havoc on his brain, and Bakugou presses another heated kiss to your neck to smother a loud moan. He’s already painfully sensitive from having you hump his lap, and your tentative touch only makes him harder. And that damn quirk didn’t help at all. After over a half hour of that bullshit cock tease, he’s just aching to bury himself in your dripping pussy.

Your thumb traces the thick vein on the side of his cock, pressing against it gently before twisting your hand. The sudden change in angle and the way you squeeze him have a low sound tearing from his chest, and then your hand is being yanked out of his pants. Bakugou’s fingers clench around your wrist in a vice grip, and you wince at the mild sting.

“Get up,” he demands, nearly growling. His fingers are digging into your ass hard enough to leave faint bruises, but you don’t care. When you hesitate, he releases you only to slap the back of your thigh. “Now.”

You pussy clenches at the pain that quickly dissolves into pleasure. “What’s wrong, Katsuki,” you can’t help but tease, hoping to get a reaction out of him, “afraid you’ll cum too fast?”

He doesn’t spank you again, though his palm does press against your reddening ass cheek in a way that speaks of a warning. “Don’t make me tell you again, baby.”

It takes another second before you shift off his lap, your legs quivering as you stand. You almost consider ignoring the command. Almost. But it doesn’t take much for you to decide you’d rather see what he has planned for you.

Your thighs rub together as Bakugou rises from the floor in one fluid motion, years of training making him silent, almost catlike. He reaches for you as soon as he’s standing, towering over you, an imposing figure. The scattering of small marks on his throat makes you grin, but the smile is wiped from your face as he grabs your chin roughly between his fingers and forces you to meet his eyes.

Ruby red and blown wide with lust, the look in his sharp gaze makes your breathing hitch. A wet crackling sound leaves your mouth as your lips part for him. His thumb grazes your bottom lip. “Such a dirty fucking mouth,” he growls.

You stumble a little as he starts walking you backwards, not touching you aside from the firm grip he has on your jaw. You go willingly, eyes on his. Excitement has your stomach flipping, a nervous flutter in your belly, and you gasp when your back hits the side of his desk, the cold wood pressing against your skin where he’s tugged at the hem of your shirt.

Bakugou’s thumb delves past your lips, dipping into your wet mouth, and your lips wrap around him greedily. Sucking gently, your teeth press against his skin possessively, tongue laving attention to his thick digit. With his free hand, Bakugou grabs the front of your plain blouse and yanks it open, careful not to rip any of the buttons. You let your shirt fall to the floor, wriggling a little as it sticks around your elbows. He reaches up to palm your breast, humming in approval once he sees your pretty bra.

“Get on your knees, baby,” he tells you, pulling his thumb from your mouth and smearing your spit across your lips, watching them glisten. “I want to see your mouth on my cock.”

You do as you’re told, practically shaking with anticipation as you drop to your knees for him. Now that you’ve gotten a feel for his cock, you’re desperate to have him inside you. Your mouth. Your pussy. It doesn’t matter which. Any thoughts of playing coy or being a brat disappear into the back of your mind as he pins you with a harsh stare. Bakugou pets your hair, threading the soft strands through his fingers to hold you still.

You bite your lip as his free hand drops to his waist, Bakugou shoving his pants and boxers down just low enough for his cock to spring free. The size makes you swallow. He’s bigger than you thought. Thicker. And you remember how your hand couldn’t wrap all the way around him. Your thighs clench, rubbing together as a dull ache builds between your legs.

He doesn’t waste his time. Shifting forward, he palms himself, lazily stroking his cock with his own fingers, just out of your reach. When you try to lean forward, he pulls your hair, forcing you back again. “Such a little slut,” he murmurs, allowing the head of his cock to press against your wet lips, his hips slowly rocking back and forth. Your tongue flicks out to taste him, and he groans. “There you go,” he says, brushing a few stray strands of hair away from your face before he starts pushing his cock into your mouth.

You immediately close your lips around him, bobbing your head forward as much as his tight grip will let you. Bakugou feeds you his cock, sliding into your wet mouth slowly as you start to suck, letting you adjust to just how fucking thick he really is. His girth has your jaw stretched wide, forcing you to breathe slowly through your nose. You glance up at him.

“That’s it, angel,” he groans as you bob your head again, “suck my cock.” His hips rock forward in a shallow thrust; his eyes lock on your lips, stretched obscenely around his length. Wet trails of saliva stick to his cock as you pull back to swirl your tongue around the head.

Whimpering around him, you suck harder, swallowing around him, anything that might pull another filthy moan from his mouth. Your hands grab his thighs for balance, your fingers digging into his legs as you try to pull him closer.

You’re rewarded with a low moan rumbling from his chest. Bakugou’s eyes slip shut for a second, his head tilting back in raw pleasure. “Figures you'd be a perfect little cock sucker,” he says under his breath, almost too low for you to hear him. “I bet you want me to fuck your face, huh, baby?”

You settle for moaning instead of nodding, watching him through your eyelashes as he pants above you.

“Fuck.” A long, hissing exhale escapes through his teeth, and his hand tightens in your hair just a little bit as he watches you work his cock. You look so fucking pretty with your mouth wrapped around him, your lips slick with saliva as you take him deeper into your mouth. There are tears beading at the corners of your eyes. “Fuck,” he says again, “you feel so good.” He grunts. “How long have you been thinkin’ about sucking my cock, babe?”

You flush under his gaze, unable to answer with your mouth full of his dick, but the answer must be clear as day on your face. You don’t know what it is he’s thinking about, but you swear his cock gets bigger in your mouth, that strange quirk making him thicker so that you’re nearly choking on him.

Bakugou holds your head still as he starts to rock his hips; he moves slowly at first, his thrusts shallow and even, but he quickly picks up speed when you whine around his cock. It isn’t long before he’s fucking your mouth, thrusts as rough as you’d expect from someone like him. His cockhead brushes against the back of your throat, his hips stuttering as he holds you like that, your lips pressed nearly against the base of his cock.

Somehow, you manage to keep your eyes on him. You force your throat to relax and swallow around him. His eyes almost roll back at the sensation, but he keeps his ruby gaze locked on you, watching how well you take him. He can only imagine how good you’re going to take his cock, too. He speeds up again, groaning as the pressure in his gut starts to build.

His cock pulls from your mouth with a wet sound, and you cough, sucking in greedy mouthfuls of air. Bakugou drags you off the floor, and your startled gasp is cut off by his hand wrapping around your throat. He doesn’t squeeze, unfortunately, just holds his palm there. The next thing you know, you’re being shoved against the nearest wall, your cheek pressed to the chilly surface as Bakugou all but rips off your skirt, leaving you in just your underwear and shoes.

The fabric pools on the floor in a crumpled heap, and Bakugou kicks it aside in order to spread your legs from behind. You brace your hands against the wall, ass out, and he’s on you in a second.

Teasing is thrown out the window as he finally—finally—touches you. One of his hands reaches around you to grope your chest, palming your breast roughly before shoving the cup of your bra aside to tweak and pinch your nipple. You’re a panting, whining mess by the time he gets his hand between your legs. Two thick fingers drag over the crotch of your panties, and he actually laughs when he feels how wet you are. “Shit, you get that horny just from sucking my cock?”

Blearily, you nod, pressing your pussy closer to his hand. Bakugou shoves your panties to the side, fingers skimming through your wetness before rolling over your clit. You nearly sob at how good it feels to have him touch you. It’s like his hands were meant to please you, big and rough, his calloused fingers providing the perfect amount of friction. Each precise stroke of his fingers feeds the knot in your belly, keeping you right on the edge of coming undone.

“You’re gonna feel so fucking good on my cock,” he tells you removing his fingers from your clit to squeeze your ass. His cock quickly replaces his hand between your thighs, his thick length rubbing against your slick pussy, the head bumping against your clit with every stroke. Bakugou lets go of your breast; his hand slaps against the wall beside your head for balance. “Pretty cunt squeezing around me. That what you want?”

“Please. Oh, please,” you mumble. Anything to get him inside you. It almost hurts how turned on you are right now. From the corner of your eye, you see him reach for the hem of his shirt, about to pull it off. “Don’t!”

Bakugou goes absolutely still at your sharp cry. The only movement is his eyes snapping up to meet yours, flooded with concern as he checks to see if he’s hurting you.

But you whimper, trying to shove yourself back on his cock. “Don’t take it off,” you clarify breathlessly, legs quivering with the effort of holding yourself up.

The concern bleeds from his eyes, and they’re taken over by something dark and hungry instead as he realizes what you mean. He thrusts his cock between your thighs, your slick covering his cock as it drips from you. Your eyes flutter as he pressed against your clit again. “Don’t take what off?” He wants to hear you say it.

And you’re so painfully aroused that the words come spilling out of your mouth before you can stop him. “Your costume,” you choke out around a loud moan. “I want you to fuck me while you’re wearing your costume.” That’s one dirty little fantasy you’ve had for a while, maybe ever since you met him. The thought of him fucking you while he’s still in costume is almost too much, but god do you want it badly.

“That so?” he drawls. His hand drops from his shirt back to your ass cheek, groping you before spreading you from behind. He takes a step back, ignoring your whine, and whistles when he gets a good look at your dripping slit. Bakugou tugs your hips back, forcing your back to arch for him. “What a naughty little slut. You got a thing for heroes, baby?”

Just you, you think, but all you can do is moan his name. “Bakugou.”

You cry out as he slaps your ass. “No, no, no,” he repremends. “That's not what you call me.”

“Katsuki, please,” you manage to whine around a harsh swallow.

He spanks you again. “Come on, angel, you know what to say.” It takes a second for it to click, but when it does you blush. “Fuck, look how wet you are.” He chuckles as he looks at your glistening thighs. Another love tap lands on your reddening ass. “You like it when I spank you?”

“Yes,” you mewl.

He spreads your legs open wider. “Yes, what?”

You take a deep, shuddering breath, cheek pressed against the wall in front of you. “Yes, Ground Zero.” Your tongue runs across your bottom lip. “Sir,” you tack on.

“Good girl.”

There’s no warning as he adjusts himself behind you, cock slamming into you hard enough to steal your breath. There’s no resistance, you're so wet. You pussy clenches around him, your walls sucking him in deeper. That’s all it takes for an orgasm to rip through you, the knot in your belly snapping so fast that all you can do is let out a silent scream as you slump forward against the wall.

Bakugou is equal parts shocked and amused as you try to milk his cock, and he grits his teeth as his dick twitches inside of you, almost pulling him over with you. “Fuck,” he laughs. “You cum just from me filling you up?” You whimper and nod. “Shit, you’re so fucking tight.”

He presses you closer to the wall, and his arm slips beneath your knee, lifting your leg and holding you open. Your thigh burns from the stretch. His cock drags along your walls slowly before, only the tip left inside before he thrusts back into you, reaching deeper.

He picks up a steady pace, slamming into you over and over. You’re already so sensitive from your first orgasm, and little gasps and whines keep falling from your mouth with every brutal thrust as Bakugou finds your sweet spot, hitting it perfectly as he pounds you. He’s thick and hard inside you, even bigger than he was in your mouth, and your eyes widen when you realize he’s doing it on purpose. “How big can you get?” you gasp, moaning as his cock expands inside you, filling you up completely.

“As big as you fucking want me,” he snarls back, fucking you faster, hiking your leg up higher.

All you can do is hold on and take it.

You don’t know how much time passes, the only sounds are your heavy breathing and his harsh panting against your ear. Sweat drips down your back where he’s sliding over you, and his fingers bite into your thigh as he almost loses his grip. “You know whose office is on the other side of this wall?” he asks suddenly. “Answer me, baby!” A particularly harsh thrust follows the demand.

“No, Sir,” you pant.

“Fucking Deku.” He grits his teeth as that now familiar tingle goes right to his cock, but you don’t seem to notice the lie. “You think he’s in there right now? His desk is right on the other side.” You pussy squeezes around him, and Bakugou moans against the side of your neck. “I bet he can hear you in here panting like a whore as I fuck your slutty little cunt.”

Your back arches into him, the revelation reigniting the fire he lit inside you. That knot comes back, just as tight as before, and you tremble as you realize he’s going to make you cum again. “Ground Zero,” you whine.

He lets go of your thigh, but keeps your knee hooked around his elbow. His hand snakes around your hips to rub your clit, and you jerk against him. “He’s got some new intern, too. Some little high school brat.” A high-pitched, needy sound falls from your mouth. “Fuck, you sound so pretty when you moan my name.” He rolls your clit harder between his fingers, and the heat rolling from him is so sweltering that it’s hard to breathe. “Shit, you’re gonna be filling this kid’s fantasies for weeks. He’s probably gettin’ off to you right now.” His cock gets bigger inside you; his hips grind against you harder. “But your pussy’s mine, angel. Got that?”

You nod, delirious.

And, fuck, he just doesn’t stop talking. “You gonna cum?” he asks, fingers moving faster over your clit. “Gonna cum from thinking about Deku and his intern listening to me fuck you?” You shudder and gasp, shoving yourself back on his cock in a weak attempt to match his brutal pace. “That’s it, baby, cum on my fat cock. Let everyone know who’s making you feel so good. I wanna hear you scream so fucking loud that everyone in this goddamn building knows my name.”

Bakugou pinches your clit. Your eyes slam shut, body locking up as he throws you into another powerful climax. “Katsuki!” you shriek, his name ripping from your throat in a raw scream.

This time, he doesn’t hold himself back. A series of harsh thrusts drag out your orgasm until you’re sobbing, a few tears slipping out and rolling down your cheeks. His cock twitches, swelling, and he shoves inside of you as deep as he can go before cumming inside you, his thick seed filling you up and dripping down your thigh.

He doesn’t pull out, leaning his head against your shoulder as you both try and catch your breath. Bliss washes over you as he kisses your neck, mumbling a string of garbled praises against your ear.

You blush when something he said hits you full force, finally able to process it now that he’s not fucking you senseless. “Midoriya,” you gasp, trying to crane your head around to look at him.

Bakugou presses more of his weight against your back, slowly lowering your leg back to the floor. His hands grasp your hips when your legs threaten to collapse beneath you. “Bastards office is on the other wall,” he says, calming you down. “‘Sides, it’s his day off.”

Relief floods through you. “You have absolutely no filter, do you?”

He shrugs, kissing across your cheek. “I don’t see you complainin’.”

You laugh a little breathlessly. “You made me cum twice,” you remind him. “I don’t give a shit what you were saying.” You shift in his embrace, wincing as his cock moves inside you. Fuck, you’re sensitive.

He stills you. “The fuck do you think you’re doing?” he asks. When he sees your obviously confused look, he gives you a shallow thrust, his cock still hard inside you. “Oh, angel, we’ve still got thirty minutes, right? We’re just getting started.”

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnhabookclub #mha #bnha #bnha smut

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yslkook · 4 years ago

Text

RAINBERRY (6)

mind of mine masterlist

summary: you share a series of moments with jungkook, come to several realizations about sora. things shift...for the better or for worse? pairing: “badboy” jk x “shy/reserved” oc warnings: cursing, alc, excessive use of pet names, kinda toxic friendship, suggestive content (hooking up)

word count: 7305... yeah idk what happened lmao

a/n: if you want to be tagged, send an ask plz

***

“You come here often?” A voice behind you murmurs in your ear. You nearly jump, but you already know who it is.

Jungkook. Ever since he had texted you letting you know that he was on his way, you’d been eagerly looking for him in the crowded, dim lights of the bar.

“No,” You say, unable to stop a giggle from pushing past your lips.

“Lucky for me then, huh?” Jungkook grins, his smile a little dark and a little seductive. It sends a thrill up your spine.

“It is,” You nod, “Really lucky for you. And for me-”

You internally cringe at yourself. Did you learn to flirt only yesterday? Jungkook quirks an eyebrow at you in amusement before letting his hand rest on your lower back.

“C’mon, pretty, I’ll get you a drink,” Jungkook says, “Maybe then you’ll pick up a trick or two on the subject of flirting.”

You gasp and swat his chest, “Don’t be so rude.”

Jungkook stands in between your legs at the bar, one hand on your thigh and one hand gripping his drink. You’re laughing at something he said in your ear, something funny that happened at the tattoo parlor earlier in the day-

“Mina and Mei pretended to be the other to see how long it would take for Jin to notice, since he can never tell them apart-”

“You’re all terrible, and poor Jin, you always instigate with him!”

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” Jungkook nearly pouts at you.

“Oh? Why’s that? Maybe I like Jin more than I like you,” You reply, leaning closer to him.

“But you still like me, right?” Jungkook says, discreetly weaving his fingers through yours. Nobody’s paying attention to either of you, but even if someone was, you wouldn’t mind.

Or so you thought nobody was paying attention to either of you.

“Mmm… maybe a little bit,” You grin, tilting your head to the side, “Tell me how cool and pretty you think I am, and then I’ll decide.”

Jungkook laughs, throwing his head back. His bright, bunny smile makes you smile. “You already know how cool and pretty I think you are, baby.”

“You could stand to mention it a little more.”

“And what about me?” Jungkook says, leaning forward, “You never compliment me, baby…”

“That’s- that’s not true,” You whisper. He’s close enough that you can see the stars in his eyes, the ridges on his plump, pouty bottom lip, the mole below his lip.

“But I guess you don’t need to, not really,” Jungkook says airily, “Not when I can tell that you think about me. Because my girl’s dirty, huh?”

You squeeze his lithe fingers tightly and he smiles at you, sin painted in the curves of his wicked grin.

“Uh-” You stammer, your face feeling hot, “You’re really cute?”

He throws his head back once more and you grin bashfully at him. “And I like spending time with you,” You say softly, looking up at him as if you want him to hang the moon for you.

Jungkook curses under his breath. Because he would, he really would.

“How lucky for me,” Jungkook says, patting your head fondly.

“Shut up,” You roll your eyes.

Before the night ends (and you endure the teasing of Mina and Mei), you manage to convince Jungkook into taking pictures with you. Mina is all too happy to take them. You don’t know how many candids she takes of you both- you get lost in his voice and the glint in his eyes.

And then he abruptly kisses your cheek, and your breath hitches with the feel of his lips against your skin leaving your heart sputtering helplessly in your chest.

Mei and Mina are both cooing in the background at their favorite couple who isn’t quite a couple just yet. Jungkook glares at both of them, only causing them both to laugh.

And then the moment is ruined by none other than Sora herself. Jungkook sighs, already knowing that you’re going to be pulled away from him. He doesn’t know why she’s even here when nobody here likes or knows her except for you. But you’re too nice to leave her out of things (mainly because you don’t want her to get upset at you for it). So Jungkook says nothing, only narrowing his eyes at her when she comes close.

She eyes his arm around your waist and how close you’re standing to him suspiciously.

“I don’t feel so good,” Sora groans, clutching her stomach. How dramatic, Jungkook scoffs. As if she’s never handled alcohol before. Jungkook looks for the blurriness that comes with alcohol in her eyes and is unsurprised to find nothing.

But perhaps his dislike for her is outweighing reality.

“Door’s right there,” Jungkook says bluntly, “And the bathroom's over there. Knock yourself out.”

He tightens his hand over your waist, ignoring your gentle swat of your hand against his chest.

“Can we go home?” Sora pouts at you, but not before sending Jungkook a glare. Jungkook already knows you’re nodding- it seems that Sora always gets what she wants.

He knows she’s faking it, and you’re too nice to see through her bullshit.

Well, Jungkook gets what he wants, too.

“I can take you both home?” Jungkook says, though the thought of being within five feet of her sends him recoiling.

“No! We can get home ourselves,” Sora nearly hisses.

“What about when she drops you off at your apartment? You gonna let her walk home alone?” Jungkook scoffs.

“She doesn’t live that far, and she can take care of herself. Or she can sleepover,” Sora answers heatedly, as if you’re not right there.

“She is right here. And I’m not sleeping over, I have an early morning tomorrow,” You say easily, feeling annoyance beginning to stir in your belly. It’s a lie, but Sora doesn’t need to know that. “Go wait at the door, Sora. I’ll be there in a minute.”

And for once, Sora listens to you.

“Jungkook,” You murmur with heated cheeks, “Maybe I can see you later tonight?”

Jungkook laughs in surprise. His girl isn’t just flirty and touchy, you’re a liar. And you’re a liar for him.

“Sure baby, whatever you want. Just please text me when you get home. Or call me and I’ll come pick you up,” Jungkook says, returning your tipsy smile. He wants to glare in Sora’s direction but refrains from doing so.

He can hear both Mira and Mei both giggling into their hands a few feet away, but you don’t seem to hear it. You don’t seem to hear anything but him.

“Okay,” You beam at him, “I’ll call you.”

By the time you get Sora in the safe hands of her roommates and tucked into bed with a glass of water, it’s nearly 1:30 AM.

“Promise me somethin’,” She says, her eyes half awake. But you can tell she’s alert and aware.

“Hmm?” You say distractedly, about to text Jungkook telling him you’re going home soon.

“You need to stay away from Jeon,” She mumbles, watching you like a hawk, “He’s not a good guy-”

“I think you’re tired, Sora,” You say, not meeting her gaze, “I’m pretty tired, too. So ‘m gonna go home. Sleep well.”

“I mean it, he’ll break your heart, you know. Don’t you trust me?”

“Sleep well,” You whisper easily, levelling her with an intense gaze. She feels herself being scrutinized as if she’s under a microscope, but the heat dissipates quickly as you turn on your heel.

Lying to her comes so easily, even with your heart pounding painfully in your ears. But you know that’s not Jungkook’s influence on you, as she might claim. Jungkook has never been a liar- apparently that’s reserved only for you.

Jungkook is only a few blocks away from Sora’s apartment building so you remain on the phone with him, giggling quietly, as you meet him halfway. He covers more ground quicker than you so he catches up to you quickly.

“Hi,” You laugh wildly, not sure what you’re even laughing at. You’re giddy just from the sight of him and you shyly take his hand in yours. He looks at you in surprise but says nothing, only rubbing your thumb with his own.

“Hey, baby,” He says smoothly. You only beam at him in response to how he is apparently unaffected by you. It’s so easy for you to push Sora’s words from your mind, when Jungkook is standing right by your side looking at you like that.

“I live kind of far from here,” You confess, “It’s like a fifteen or twenty minute drive.”

Jungkook shakes his head at you, pulling his phone out for an Uber. “I hate that you Uber home alone so often from here,” Jungkook says, “Don’t do that anymore. You’ve heard the stories right?”

“Yeah, I have,” You shrug, “I don’t really know who else I can call all the way from here-”

“Me,” Jungkook says sharply, “Yoongi. Hobi. Jin. Mei. Mina. Any of us, baby. Fuckin’ Sora should drive you home.”

“She’s drunk, she can’t drive!”

“Not this time, just in general,” Jungkook mutters, “Some best friend, letting you ride alone in a damn Uber for twenty minutes without even checking up on you-”

“I don’t wanna talk about her anymore,” You mumble abruptly, “I want to go home, Jungkook. Will you take me home?”

And who is he to deny you?

In hindsight, maybe you should have slowed down. Maybe he should have slowed down. But the minute you enter the threshold of your home, your hands are warm and welcoming on his chest. You want him, you need him, you need him to hold you the way you know he wants to.

Your lips are sweet against his, trembling and burning all at once.

It’s been about an hour since you both ended up falling into your bed together, and most of that hour has been filled with you both locking lips. It had been you who had pressed your hands to his firm chest with determined eyes and a deep furrow in your brow before pressing your lips to his.

As quickly as it happened, it feels right. You’re sitting on his lap as if you belong, hips slowly rocking into his as your hands pull his hair out of the ponytail that it’s in. You sigh happily when you card through his hair, fingertips gentle over his scalp.

Jungkook loves the soft, pretty noises he pulls from you with each slip of his tongue into your mouth. You’re hungry, impatient, nothing of what his initial first impression of you was. You always want more, more, more and he wants to give, give, give.

He should’ve been more surprised than he really was when you had tugged his hand into your bedroom, pushed him to your bed and climbed into his lap. Your eyes are hooded, as you duck your head to meet his lips.

He tastes like honey and mint and something sweet. He smells like fresh laundry. You could lose yourself in him, you think, as you bite his lower lip generously.

“Baby,” Jungkook groans into your mouth, missing the warmth of your lips immediately, “Wait.”

But he moans again when you nip his bottom lip gently, coaxing your way into his mouth. It takes him a few seconds to pull away, your honeyed lips too tempting for him. You complain vocally, deciding to press your lips to his neck instead.

“Baby,” Jungkook says again, a little firmly with a tight grip on your hips.

“Honey,” You say in the same tone, your lips pulled into a pretty pout.

“Slow down,” Jungkook murmurs, gently placing you on the bed, your back against your freshly washed sheets. You hum and wrap an arm around his shoulders, eyelashes fluttering as you just watch him. Jungkook looks so good above you, lips perfectly pink and pillowy… You’re tempted to lick the column of his neck, all along the swirls of ink, but you don’t.

“It’s late,” You muse, twirling his hair within your fingers. He won’t admit that he feels like putty in your arms, hovering above you.

“Great observation,” Jungkook says dryly, “Anything else you wanna share with the class?”

“Will you stay over,” You murmur, looking up at him as he lays in between your legs and dots your cheeks in soft kisses.

“You want that, baby? Pretty baby wants me to stay over?” Jungkook nearly coos at you, and you swat his hand away at his teasing.

“Shut up,” You mumble, “Only because it’s like, 3 in the morning and it would be shitty for you to go all the way across the city alone.”

“Yeah, right, only because it's three AM. Not because you want to cuddle,” Jungkook snorts.

“You’re only good for cuddling, anyway,” You shoot back, “I have some of my dad’s sweats and shirts if you want to change. Get off me, you big oaf.”

“My girl’s mean, huh?

“Oh, who said anything about your girl,” You mutter, embracing the heat in your face.

Jungkook peels his leather jacket off, but he catches your curious eyes before you turn away and all but run into the bathroom to change and take your makeup off. He’s waiting in your bed as if he lives there, waiting for you to join him.

“Why do you look so nervous in your own bedroom,” Jungkook asks bluntly, chuckling at your soft noise of offense.

“It’s not everyday I have you in my bed,” You mumble, peeling the covers back to slide into bed next to him.

“You want it to be everyday?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, pretty boy,” You reply, pinching his waist. He yelps and grips your wrist loosely.

“You okay with this or what? I can sleep on the couch if you’re not,” Jungkook says, rubbing your wrist gently.

You hum, “I’m good. You good?”

“Got the prettiest girl right here. Of course I’m good,” Jungkook says, winking at you. You hide your face from him and swat his chest.

“Good night,” You mumble, “Go to sleep, stupid.”

“Who the fuck,” Jungkook grumbles into your hair, “The fuck is calling you this early, what the fuck-”

You groan, pushing your face into his chest as if that’ll push the jarring sound of your phone blaring out of your mind. Rubbing your eyes with an irritated sigh, you reach over to blindly feel for your phone on the nightstand but Jungkook reaches it first.

“Of course,” Jungkook rolls his eyes, “She never misses a fucking beat does she? Even at 6:20 in the fucking morning...”

You catch a glimpse at the phone and see that it’s Sora calling you. You take the phone from his hands, letting him wrap himself around you with a pout. You run your hand over his back silently as you answer the phone.

“Hello?” You grumble raspily, voice filled with remnants of the morning.

“Hey, just checking that you were awake. You said you had an early morning today, right?” Sora's chipper voice booms into the receiver. You cringe. Has she always sounded like that?

“Yeah…” You reply, but you’re a little distracted by the way that Jungkook’s lips attach to the corner of your mouth. “Mmm…”

“You there? You falling asleep on me, or what?” Sora asks, “Always so distracted, you should seriously pay more attention-”

Jungkook hears her and glares at the phone. His eyes harden and he moves quickly, without warning you. He takes the phone from your hands swiftly as if it’s personally offended him.

“Leave us alone, Sora,” Jungkook says, steel and frustration clear in his voice, “It’s too early for this shit, go do something productive and leave us alone. ”

You watch him with gobsmacked eyes, knowing this won’t end well but unable to find it in yourself to care as much as you should.

At least not yet.

Sora’s flabbergasted screech pierces the previously quiet morning air through your phone and you wince. You knew she wouldn’t be happy, but you’ll deal with her later. When a sleepy, pouty Jungkook wasn’t in front of you already chasing your lips with his.

“Kook,” You sigh, turning your cheek to face him. He plants his lips on yours easily, pulling the words right off of your tongue and filling your mind with air.

“You embarrassed of me or something,” Jungkook teases.

“What? No,” You say sharply, eyes wide, “Why would you think that?”

“You lied to her last night and you lied to her just now. You don’t have an early morning,” Jungkook says, hands running over your cheek, “You only have me in your bed.”

“She keeps telling me I should stay away from you,” You confess, “I don’t know why she doesn’t like you, but I’ll talk to her about it later. I don’t want my best friend to not like you-”

“Is she? Your best friend?” Jungkook asks, cutting you off. Your eyes are round with confusion, head tilted to the side.

“Why wouldn’t she be?” You ask softly, “We’ve been close since college-”

“I know all the facts, baby,” Jungkook says, trying his best to not insult Sora to you the way he wants to, “I know she’s been your friend since college, you’ve seen each other at your worst, all of the usual bullshit-”

“Hey!”

“... Why do you think she doesn’t want you to have anything to do with me? If she was really your best friend, she wouldn’t be this fucking concerned or involved-”

“If I knew, we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” You shrug, “She’s just… protective of me.”

“She cares too fucking much in my opinion,” Jungkook says, “Fucking control freak. Would someone protective of you send you on a blind date with an asshole who stood you up and didn’t even reach out to you after?”

Jungkook has a lot more he wants to say about Sora and how she treats you, but he keeps it to himself for now.

You don’t know what to say, so you say nothing. Only looking at him with those disarming eyes. He hasn’t said much about it, but your gears are already turning. You’ve been growing more and more tired of Sora’s antics- mainly the way she never seems to take into account your feelings unless it benefits her. It was tolerable in college, but the more you fell for Jungkook, the more tiresome it was becoming.

“I don’t wanna talk about her anymore,” You say finally, a repeat of what you said last night.

Jungkook looks at you, something undecipherable in his eyes, before nodding and quietly meeting your warm, sleepy lips with his own.

It’s been a total of thirty-six hours since you kissed Jungkook and he had spent the night with you. You haven’t had any type of conversation with him about what your kiss with him meant, what him staying the night over meant. It doesn't’ stop you from feeling giddy at the thought of him, from replaying the last kiss he had given you. From leaving you wanting more.

You think nothing of it as you cheerily buy a dozen donuts to bring with you to the tattoo parlor to surprise Jungkook and your friends. Maybe you can sneak a kiss in.

But the minute you walk into the parlor, you know something is a little off. Jungkook’s shoulders are tense, a pensive look settled in his eyes. His jaw is clenched, tongue poking his cheek.

“Hi,” You murmur, offering him the box of donuts, “I come bearing treats.”

Jungkook gives you a thin smile. He chews on his chapped bottom lip, deep in thought. You didn’t know what to expect after seeing him for the first time after he spent the night with you, but this isn’t what you expected.

He’s standing across from you with crossed arms over his broad chest. The air between you both feels cold and still, icy as you exhale. He’s upset about something, and after before you can ask him what’s wrong (before you can stop your own spiral downwards), he beats you to the punch-

“I don’t understand you,” Jungkook says, his voice perfectly calm and even. But it’s eerie.

Your heart drops to your stomach instantly and you swallow the dry lump in your throat.

“What?” You hate how soft, how weak your voice sounds. But you can’t help it, not when disappointment coats his eyes and when he speaks to you like he’s disgusted by you. You don’t understand him either. The way he switches up on you with no warning.

Jungkook takes a deep breath to tell you what’s been on his mind. Instead of the practiced speech that sounded much calmer in his mind, what comes out is-

“You let Sora walk all over you,” Jungkook hisses, “You let her dictate almost every fucking decision! She has this inexplicable hold over you, and you don’t even know it!”

Jungkook hates confrontation, he really does. But he’s at his wit’s end with you and with Sora. Mostly with you, for not seeing a terrible friend in front of your eyes even when everyone tries telling you. How can you be this blinded by it? By her?

“She manipulates you at every turn, and you just let her! And you know what, I get it- it’s hard to recognize it when you’re in it. But we’ve all told you. She’s not a good friend to you, at all!”

Your face falls, heart sinking into a black hole that begins to swirl in your belly. You can’t stand it, the fire in his eyes despite the ice in his voice. You don’t like this. You don’t like this.

“I don’t know why you’re so hellbent on listening to her,” Jungkook seethes, getting angrier the more he thinks about Sora, “She treats you like shit- you have to know you deserve better than that, right? She sabotages you every chance she gets. She doesn’t like any of us, you know that? And forget that- why don’t you fucking ask yourself why she has the opposite opinion to everything when it comes to something you like? Your fucking car, your apartment, your job, your choice in decor. Even me.”

His words make you ache terribly and you desperately need something to hold on to to ground yourself. You shove your fists in the pockets of your jacket and surely, you’re clenching your fists tight enough that your nails are piercing through the skin of your palms.

“You never question her intentions. You’ve never even dreamed of questioning her,” Jungkook continues with a cruel sneer, lips twisting into something unfamiliar that cuts across you, “You should ask yourself why. You should ask yourself by you’re always defending her, walking on eggshells around her, afraid to be in disagreement with her, when she doesn’t give a fuck about you.”

But he doesn’t stop there, “You’re so fucking naive a-and fucking foolish. You can’t see how she always has to have you in the palm of her hand, how she makes sure she’s ahead of you in life, by whatever twisted definition of that she has. You deserve better than her. And I know I deserve better than to be hidden because you’re too scared to face your supposed best friend.”

You don’t have any words. Your brain seems to short circuit at his harsh truths, unable to formulate a single sentence. Instead your hands tremble and your eyes become wet.

You say nothing. As always, you say nothing.

“You’re not gonna say anything? Not even now?” Jungkook asks, tongue pressing against his cheek.

Another five seconds goes by before you open your mouth, “I d-don’t know what to say,” Your voice is quiet, unlike what Jungkook is used to, “It seems you’ve already made up your mind about me. I’m sorry I hurt you.”

Jungkook could scream in frustration. You still won’t say what’s on your mind, even when he insults you straight to your face. He can’t tell what you’re thinking (mainly because you hardly ever say anything about it), despite being able to read you easily.

“I think I should go,” You say in the same soft, defeated voice, “I b-brought donuts, but umm… they’re over there. Goodbye, Jungkook.”

With that, you turn your back on him and on the tattoo parlor to head outside. He doesn’t see the trembling of your hands or of your shoulders. He doesn’t know that you somehow hold your tears back the whole way home, biting down harshly on your bottom lip enough to draw blood.

Jungkook doesn’t know that you barely make it into your apartment with his words ringing cruelly in your head. He doesn’t know that you collapse in your bed in a mess of sobs and the sound of your heart aching.

You’re alone.

It takes all of thirty seconds after your departure for Jungkook to realize the weight of his words and for your defeated, hunched over shoulders to replay in his mind like a movie. It takes another forty seconds for Mina and Mei to emerge from their respective offices (where he’s certain they heard the entire conversation) and scream at him for his callousness-

“I have never known you to speak to anyone like that, let alone the girl that you’ve liked for who knows how long! What the fuck is wrong with you?” Mina says and smacks the back of his head.

“You’re an idiot,” Mei continues with narrowed eyes, “You better apologize to her and kiss her fucking feet-”

“Who else was going to tell her about Sora? She hasn’t listened to-”

“There is a way to communicate these things!” Mei says angrily, “You yelling at her like that wasn’t the move and you know it. You’re so fucking stupid!”

“Alright, I get it,” Jungkook says, equally as angry. He pulls away from both of them, not wanting to hear it from them anymore.

“That girl Sora is a fucking bitch but you’re no better for how you just behaved,” Mina hisses, “Get your shit together, Jeon.”

He knows that he was harsh, maybe too harsh with you. Looking back on the memory of your glossy eyes and sad, slumped shoulders… You hadn’t even fought him. You’d just accepted his barrage of words as fact, without even thinking to provide an explanation or a defense of yourself.

Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut in shame. Once the anger dissolves into hurt, he reaches a conclusion. He should’ve just talked to you rather than lash out at you like that.

You’re no delicate flower, but damn, he’d do anything to take away the broken look in your eyes.

You take exactly two days off from work to sort through your feelings and thoroughly comb through your previous memories with Sora, and subsequently, with all of your friends. You spend most of this time in your bed, under the covers and scrolling through old photos from college and post-grad life.

It’s funny- you don’t really know where your sense of self got away from you.

You’ve always approached people- relationships, friendships- logically and rationally. Or at least you thought you had. It seems like a lot of your reactions to things that may have upset you or bothered you (or lack thereof) was for the convenience of others- namely Sora.

You bury your head in your hands when she passes through your memory. How could you have let it escalate this far? Can you be so blind to someone treating you so horribly for this long? Can you excuse her behavior for the simple fact that she’s been your supposed friend for years?

You try to think back on a time when you felt like you could unabashedly be yourself around Sora without any consequence for simply existing.

You come up blank.

Logic comes easy to you. It’s easy for you to make the decision to finally speak to Sora and say what needs to be said. Especially when your other friends were hurt by her actions, and by extension, yours.

After about another thirty-six hours, you decide. It doesn’t surprise you, how easy it is to make the decision. You decide that this “friendship” with Sora isn’t worth it. Not when she’s made you feel like this for years and if she treats your friends this way, too.

You’ll give her a chance to explain, but most of your mind is set already. Considering how well you know her, you know how this conversation is going to go. You dread it, but it must be done. Even if it’s long overdue.

“I need you to be honest with me,” You say plainly, keeping your face neutral even as your heart hammers away in your chest. At least you’re in the safety and comfort of your own home, your pastel green throw pillow on your lap acting as an anchor.

Sora sits across from you, an eyebrow raised. Her mouth is twisted into something defensive, on the ready to eat you alive. How could you not notice it before?

“When am I ever not honest with you?” Sora scoffs.

“Then it should be easy for you to answer a few questions for me, and we can be on our merry ways,” You say breezily, your eyes hardened. She swallows. Good.

“The fuck you being so formal for?” Sora laughs, but her smile drops when she sees that you’re not joking.

“Why are you so mean to Jungkook and his friends? My friends?” You ask without missing a beat. You cross your arms over your chest and look at her expectantly. Your ears feel warm, but you press on.

Even if Jungkook is perhaps irreparably upset with you, you think this is his influence. Growing a spine and sticking up for yourself, for the people around you.

“Seriously? That’s what’s got your panties twisted?” Sora says, waving a dismissive hand at you, “Don’t worry about them, they don’t know you like I do- I mean who else was holding your hair back when you were throwing your guts up in college?”

“I don’t think the quality of a friendship should be assessed by how many drunken nights we had.”

“Who else was there for you when nobody else was?” Sora hisses, “I took you home when your parents left you for the holidays, I was the one who was there with you when your shitty ex’s ghosted you, god, your taste is the worst-I was the only one who ever saw you!”

You squeeze your pillow far too tightly.

“Stop holding that shit over my head,” You snap, “Those are just things that friends do. I never begged you for your support and I shouldn’t have to feel like I owe you something other than friendship just for being your only fucking friend who put up with your shit for this long.”

Before she can open her mouth to speak, you cut across her, “Stop talking about the past. College was years ago at this point. We graduated fucking almost six years ago. And even in college… you haven’t changed a bit,” You let out a mirthless laugh, “What do you have to say for our friendship right now? If you gave a shit about me, you wouldn’t have set me up with a loser who stood me up. You afraid of something, Sora? You afraid I’ve been around people who are friends with me because they actually like me, not because they get off on a weird power trip?

“Ever since the beginning, all you’ve done is push me away from myself,” You say with trembling lips, “E-everything, you’ve just… you just take everything I like and I want and completely dismiss it. It’s n-not right. A-and it took this long, for Jungkook to call it out for me to realize. This- this isn’t friendship-”

To your misery, her lips morph into a cruel sneer. “Jungkook? You went behind my back-”

“Behind your back? You don’t even have a good reason-”

“I told you, I’m only-”

“No! You’re gonna let me finish, for once,” You raise your voice, levelling her with a glare containing years worth of anger, “It’s clear, with or without Jungkook, that you’ve only kept me around to make yourself feel better. How twisted is that! You kept me down, made me doubt myself and everything just so you could feel better.”

You take a deep, deafening breath.

“I don’t want anything to do with you anymore. Even now, you can’t reassure me. Even now, you can’t call on our friendship as something fond to remember. You weaponized me for your own insecurities. Get out.”

“Get out? You’re kicking me out?” Sora’s sneer drops immediately. Maybe you’re being cruel, but you can’t take it anymore. Something passes across her face that makes you draw an ounce of sympathy for her but it evaporates immediately.

“Yup,” You say, popping the ‘p’, “We’re not friends, and I don’t think we ever were. So thanks, for bringing me back to my senses.”

And that’s that- she leaves with her tail between her legs, not pleading for your affection or your friendship. You’re grateful for that, because you feel like you might collapse in about two minutes.

***

It has been exactly nine days since you ended your friendship with Sora and exactly fourteen days since you stepped foot in the tattoo parlor. You’ve only just reached out to Mei and Mina, in between sporadic texts to Hobi and Yoongi.

It’s been exactly two weeks since you spoke to Jungkook. You miss him, you miss his crooked smirk, his bunny smile. Most of all, you miss the comfort and safety his presence brings. But you’re too nervous to reach out to him again, his harsh words and fiery eyes blinking back at you in your own mind. You’re nervous to even show your face at the tattoo parlor.

Jungkook has been receiving an earful from all of his friends since the last day he spoke to you. Hobi’s wrath, along with Mei and Mina’s wrath, is something he never wants to relive twice. Yoongi and Jin also lectured him, and he only looked at them with wide, doe eyes in understanding. Whatever anger he was holding on to has simmered down to hurt, and now he just misses you. And he very much regrets the way he spoke to you.

He winces when he recalls his cruel words, the sharp edge of his tongue that slipped out so easily. So quickly, to strike you right where it hurts. Jungkook can’t get your stricken expression out of his mind. Knowing he put that look on your face, it makes him ache. And he’s the coward, for still not reaching out to you to apologize.

He’s too nervous to face you, but he has to.

***

jeon jungkook : hi. can we talk sometime soon?

It takes you fifteen minutes to respond. What he doesn’t know is that you had panicked for ten of those fifteen minutes, nearly dropping your phone when you had seen his name pop up on your screen.

you 🧡 : hi. sure. Where?

***

You give yourself a pep talk the entire drive to the park. You’re glad he suggested a park, and a park close to your home- you’re grateful for the open area. You’re incredibly nervous to see him for the first time in a while, running through different scenarios in your head before scolding yourself.

It’s Jungkook. Even if he hurt you, it’s still Jungkook. You trust him. You want to trust him.

You spot Jungkook leaning on his motorcycle, looking like a vision in all black. As almost always a strand of black hair escapes his ponytail as he lights his cigarette. If you didn’t know him so well, you wouldn’t notice his nerves in the way he grips his lighter tightly.

“Jungkook?” You say softly, “Hi.”

You wring your hands together, gripping the straps of your backpack tightly. You’re just as nervous as he is, he realizes. But still, you stand with your back straightened, eyes wary. You glow, and despite the fact that it’s only been two weeks, he senses something different about you.

“Hi,” Jungkook murmurs, the pet name on the tip of his tongue but he refrains, “Come here. Can I hug you?”

“Y-yeah,” You nod with a small smile and he envelopes you in his arms, holding you tightly. Inhaling every bit of you that he can. He wants to kiss you again, kiss you breathless, kiss you so that you forget his cruelty.

But he can’t erase it. So he doesn’t.

“I brought blankets for us,” Jungkook murmurs, pointing to the basket, “Let’s go sit?”

You nod and follow his lead.

***

“It was messed up,” You say forlornly, “We kissed, we kissed a lot, you slept in my bed and then you yelled at me. Insulted me in your tattoo parlor. You hurt me. You hurt me a lot.” There’s only a little malice in your voice, but he’ll take it.

You’re both sitting across from each other, knees touching with open and honest eyes. You feel vulnerable and exposed around him, especially considering how your last conversation with him went.

“You should’ve just talked to me,” You mumble.

“I know,” Jungkook says instantly, takes your much smaller hands in his and squeezes, “I fucked up. I’m so sorry I spoke to you like that. You didn’t deserve that from me. You don’t deserve that from anyone, least of all from me. I’m sorry I let everything fester and took it out on you. I’m so fucking sorry. I made you cry, didn’t I?”

You look away from him for a millisecond before nodding, “You’d cry too, if the man you liked, the man you just spent the night with for the first time, spoke to you like that. In his own place of work. I only brought you donuts and you just- what the fuck? You just went off on me, I had no idea you were even feeling that intensely about Sora. About me-

“I’m not naive and I’m not stupid. Don’t take me for a fool,” You say pointedly, not letting go of his hands. Jungkook cringes before opening his mouth.

“You’re not naive or stupid, I’m sorry-”

“But… I understand, I think. You know when you kind of… know something but it takes another person for you to realize? I think I always knew how Sora was and didn’t want to face it. Or face her. For so long, it felt like she was all I had for some reason. Like even if there were others, it felt like her approval mattered the most. And I realized it was because she just always had this way of making me feel less than her. But mostly, I owe that realization to you. Even if you went about it the wrong way.”

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook says, “I’m so fucking sorry, I should’ve just talked to you about how I was feeling, rather than take it out on you. You deserve better than that.”

“I’m sorry, too,” You say, surprising him, “For allowing her to get in the way of us, for allowing her to run her mouth. For not having a spine-”

“Stop,” Jungkook says firmly, “When someone is controlling and manipulative like that, it’s hard to see past it-”

“But is it an excuse?” You wonder with a slight tilt of your head, “I let it hurt you, hurt Yoongi, Hobi, Mina, Mei…”

“Maybe not an excuse. But it makes it understandable,” Jungkook says, “All we can do is move forward right?”

“Yeah, I suppose,” You nod, “I know it doesn’t really change much now, but… I told Sora I don’t want anything to do with her anymore. In fact, I kicked her out of my apartment. It was very dramatic and satisfying. Like something out of a movie.”

Jungkook laughs despite himself, pulling a small smile from you as well. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah-”

“You just ended a friendship with someone who’s been around for a long time. That’s not easy.”

“It was easier than I thought it would be. Turns out telling someone to get out of your apartment after letting out about eight years of pent up frustration really is the most vindicating thing a girl can do,” You murmur with a soft laugh, “I think I’m just upset with myself that it took this long. That it took hurting you, the last person I’d ever want to hurt, to realize.”

Jungkook rubs your thumb gently, sending gentle ripples over your skin.

“I’m sorry I disrespected you like that,” Jungkook says, sincerity forming dotted diamonds in his eyes, “God, I’m so sorry, baby.”

“Yeah,” You sigh, “I’m sorry I disrespected you, too. By ignoring all of the red flags, I let her get away with so much. I let her get away with her saying so much shit about you.”

There’s a comfortable pause between you both.

“I think we need to take time for ourselves,” Jungkook murmurs, eyes uncertain but earnest, “Before we start anything-”

“And who said I wanted to start anything with you,” You tease, giggling when Jungkook rolls his eyes at you, “I agree… Maybe no more pet names, huh?”

“Are you breaking up with me?” He asks in amusement.

“To break up, we’d have to be together to begin with,” You say softly. Despite his own words, his own insistence that he knows you both have some feelings to work through before starting anything romantic without lingering feelings of resentment… Jungkook just wants to pull you into his lap and kiss you, steal your breath, feel your hips in his hands. You look so pretty under the sunlight, the rays brushing over your hair warmly and casting a faint halo over your head.

He drinks you in with his eyes, not allowing a single inch of you to pass him. It’s only been two weeks, but he looks at you as if it’s been so much longer since he’s seen you.

You’ve never been good at hiding your emotions around him, and this time is no different. You look like you want to eat him alive, your eyes hooded and palms hot against his. Something in you wants him, wants him to hold you close, feel his hands over any and every inch of you that he can reach.

You want him to paint you with his hands, maybe share some of that sparkle that he seems to be made of.

Your eyes linger, a soft sigh escaping your lips without realizing it. Jungkook resists a smirk, keeping his observations to himself. He catches your gaze burning through his balmy skin, on his arms, his chest, his neck…

It’s too bad. It really is.

Memories of your night together flash behind your eyelids, the way you seemed to fit just perfectly on top of his strong thighs, the way his big hands felt ghosting over you.

You force your eyes away and touch your lips subconsciously, blinking away the ghost of his kiss. Pulling your hands away from him, you offer him a contrite smile.

“I’ll see you around, Jungkook,” You murmur, standing up from the blanket. His first instinct is to help you up, but he remembers, he’s supposed to keep his hands to himself.

“Yeah. See you around.”

Jungkook’s dimples are the last thing you see when you turn your back and head to your car. You try your best not to look back at him, despite every neuron in your brain screaming at you to.

----

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#jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x you

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