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lovestrucked-again · 5 years ago

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Delirium V

Summary: After being kidnapped and claimed by the notorious mafia leader, he offers you a 7 day period where you’ll be given the option after of staying or leaving. Until then, you’re stuck, whether you like it or not.

Pairing: Mafia leader X female reader Word count: 3.8k

Genre & Warning: SMUT, fingering, Explicit content, mafia gang, possessive, toxic, yandere like personality, humiliation, multiple orgasms, rough, orgasm denial, begging, orgasm control, praise, teasing, dildo, blowjob, sex

a/n: finally a proper aftercare scene. also decided i’d be writing this as a proper series now since so many people like it <3. i’ve bought in the day count and updated the summary.

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Day 2 continued

Taeyong’s arms wrap around your waist, gathering you into his arms as you relax in his hold, your muscles exhausted and weak. He carries you to his bedroom, placing you down softly on the bed as you curl up around the soft sheets. He rolls onto his side, pulling you into his body as he runs his hands over your skin, circling your wrists gently to help rid the pain. His head dips into the nuzzle area of your neck as he places peppering kisses along your bare shoulder muttering words of praise as you recoil from the overwhelming mess of your day - full of orgasms.

Your mind continues to drift between the thoughts of pain and pleasure as he holds you. Gradually, his words faintly register in your mind and you begin to focus on his presence. His voice gets louder in your ear, although his tone remains level, but it brings you back to reality.

“Taeyong,” you rasp out

“How are you feeling baby?” he asks, his warm eyes waiting patiently as he presses a kiss against your forehead.

“Sore...” you mumble. You let out a deep sigh, relaxing in his hold as you snuggle further into him – your hands thrown over his waist.

Taeyong gently pulls you off him, bringing his eyes to yours as he looks at you in concern, “Was I too hard? Did I push too far?” He questions, his sincere gaze piercing into you with an overwhelming amount of emotion, perhaps cherish or is it devotion?

“No.” you tell him, laughing a little as he sighs, tightening his arms around you.

“Mmmm that’s good.”

The two of you lay in silence, the deep intoxicating scent of his subtle woodsy and faint mint flooding your senses as your eyelids droop down. Then as your about to drift off, he starts pulling away. Your body reacts first, tightening your grasp on him.

“Don't leave,” you whimper in protest – voice low and showing so much vulnerability.

“I’m just going to get lotion okay?” he points out softly, unwrapping your arm from his waist.

“Can you get it later?” you whine, your eyes staring up at him. Taeyong softens at your gaze, not accustomed to your clinging need of him, but yet completely in love with it.

“It’ll hurt more if you don't rub something on your joints and thighs.” He murmurs, pushing his thoughts away to think about your well-being. “How about you come with me?”

The question quickly runs through your mind and you nod despite the exhaustion already setting in; the pain from having the straps and its sharp teeth digging into your skin desperate to be tended to.

“Come on baby, I’ll piggy back you.” He offers. You let out a laugh at the proposal and stretch a little as he gets up and stands at the foot of the bed, waiting. You cling onto his shoulders and then reach for his neck, your fingers lacing around each other to hold yourself. When you try and wrap your legs around his waist you let out a shriek as the muscles pull; the soreness of them apparent. Despite that, you bring your legs around him, your head lulling onto his shoulder as Taeyong wraps his arms around your butt, steading you.

Taeyong guides you to the bathroom, switching the light on as you cling tightly to him when he releases an arm. Gently, he turns around, placing you on the bench as he unlocks your fingers around his neck. You wince as your bare bottom makes contact with the cold marble surface, the pain only lasting a few seconds as it takes over the heat.

“What are you looking for? you ask, watching him rummage through cupboards and draws, searching for something.

“I’m looking for a towel,” He hums.

“There’s one on the rack.” You tell him, scrunching your face up in confusion.

“That’s not soft enough.” He murmurs, wanting to find a specific material. “Maybe it’s in my draw.” He disappears back into the bedroom, leaving you sitting on the sink bench, playing with your fingers in silence, mind slowly shutting down in fatigue. He returns within a minute, a lotion and a towel in hand, placing them beside you before he turns to the sink.

You watch him in silence, his eyes furrowing as he plays around with the temperature of the water. When his finally satisfied with it, he grabs the plug, blocking the water from draining. He takes the towel, letting it soak in the water before squeezing it damp before he shuffles between your legs.

“Close your eyes.” He tells you, bringing the fabric over your face – wiping at the dried saliva and juices that coat your lips. You squint your eyes shut, as he keeps a hand at the side of your head, careful not to press too hard.

“That’s nice.” You murmur, feeling much cleaner with the warm cloth on your face.

With his free hand, Taeyong slowly spreads your thighs, delicately running the cloth against your skin, pausing momentarily only to rinse the towel. After wiping it all down, he places a little kiss against your skin, “all done.”

He tosses the towel into the sink, reaching for one of his shirts on the rack behind him – worn from the previous day. His fingers trace along your waist as he helps you slip into the material, seeking the comfort of warmth. As you look down at the shirt, noticing the little logo on the side, Taeyong reaches for the lotion that’s been placed aside.

“Baby, hands.” He hums. You place your hands on your thighs and he flips them so your palm’s face up. He squirts out a little of the lotion, applying it onto your wrists first, massaging it into your skin before he places a kiss on them. He shuffles back, squeezing out more lotion onto his hands as he squats to level his eyesight with your ankles. “Does it hurt?” he asks, staring at the pink colour and the marks that are lightly indented due to the heavy chains.

“Not really.” You mumble, wincing as you cross your fingers instinctively; the white lie coming out naturally.

After rubbing the cream into your joints, he stands up and shifts closer to your body. Naturally, your arms wind around his shoulders, Taeyong’s own wrapping around your waist as you swing your legs around him. With little effort, he lifts you up, walking back to his bedroom as you lay your cheek on his shoulder – nose pressed against his skin.

“We’ll put the rest of the cream on back in bed.” He whispers, noticing your eyes droop every so often. He shifts a little, manoeuvring awkwardly as he reaches for the light switch, flicking it off and heading to the bed. You fall lazily.

“On your back.” He tells you, helping you crawl up to the pillows. You flop against the soft pillow, letting out an exhausted sigh. You shiver a little as the hem of your shirt is lifted and you feel Taeyong’s hands brushing against your thighs. He rubs in circular motions, massaging at the skin simultaneously as he applies the lotion.

When you feel the shift in weight on the bed you realise he’s finished and your legs roll together, curling into the sheets. Your eyes sink and you can barely feel your own weight anymore, reaching for thin air as you make grabby hands, searching for him.

“I’m here,” he whispers, shuffling up closer to your body, bringing you into his hold before you sigh in contempt. A hand rests around your back, gently tapping at a steady pace until his breathing becomes slower and deeper, the softness of his exhale tickling at your neck as he falls asleep.

As sleep finds you, it brings dreams of hands and tongues and things entering you.

Day 3

The watery light of early morning sun streams through the window, waking Taeyong up. He shuffles around the bed, removing his arm from around your waist as you continue in your sleep. He disappears around the bathroom, running the tap on and steps in, humming softly to himself as he prepares himself for a busy day.

The dreams and visions melt away as you awaken, but the need and arousal still burns inside you. Taeyong wrapped in a robe, comes through, ruffling his now damp hair with a spare towel in his hand.

“Morning baby! Did you sleep well?”

You hum in response, rubbing at your eyes to wake yourself up. The bed sinks a little at his weight and he climbs up to your lips, giving you a peck as you squeal.

“I haven’t brushed my teeth yet!” You laugh, attempting to nudge him off of you. He pushes himself up on his forearms, caressing your cheek as you squirm a little under his gaze. For some reason, the way he looked at you after yesterday, made you feel vulnerable, your pulse was quickening and the strange longing at his nearness grew each time.

“Mmm I don't care.” Without warning, his lips press against yours and your tongues collide. You whimper softly, bringing your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. His nose brushes against yours as he keeps himself steady, removing his robe onto the bed with a rustle, sporting a huge erection.

He lays down on top of you, warmth and weight on your skin, sliding his arms around you tightly. Your hands reach around to find his soft hair, bringing his face to you as his lips continue attack with yours.

Your shirt rides up, exposing your lower bottom as his hands trace along the outsides of your thigh, working his way up. You quiver as his cock brushes against your skin; wetness flowing between your legs, as your body begs for more. You brace yourself for the thickness of his cock, knowing it would stretch you wider than the rubber dildo from yesterday. Instead, you felt his fingertip, just one, teasing your pussy lips.

You look up at him, the slight disappointment slipping past your expression accidentally. Taeyong catches your gaze, pausing in his movements as he leans over to your ear, “Just because I’m not strapping you down right now, doesn't mean you have permission to move. If I want to take it slow, then you’re going to endure it.”

You watch his moves eagerly, gulping as you nod. With his words in mind, you assume he’s going to continue teasing but he doesn't. With a quick switch, he removes his finger and slams his cock into you. You scream when he enters; still sore from the previous day. He moves gently, but your orgasm hits instantly and hard. Your back arches as you meet his thrust, hips moving with his as you contract hard around him, feeling every inch of his sweet, delicious cock inside you.

The powerful contractions hurt, the length of his shaft buried inside you hurt, and your orgasm continues on and on and on, longer than you had felt before. You pull at his locks, tugging them frantically as the thumping of your heart powers the shockwaves through your body. You were still coming even as he pulls out, even as you feel yourself closing around nothing. The sudden shocking sense of emptiness brings a wail out your lips; the orgasm, so cruelly interrupted before it could finish, leaving you craving more.

“You don't know what you’ve gotten yourself into.” He grins, lifting you off the bed as you continue writhing in his grasp, lowering you onto the floor instead.

His hands hold onto your shoulders, pushing you down until you’re on your knees in front of him. Realising what he wants, you lick your lips in anticipation, quickly bringing his head into your mouth as you suck, swirling your tongue around it, savouring the taste.

His dick was bigger than any you'd ever had, a realization that came to you as you sucked on it. In an attempt to please him while easing yourself into the blowjob, you reach up and grip the base of his shaft with your hand, so that you can jerk him off while your mouth would only have to tackle the first few inches of his cock. You savour it, going slow, then speeding up a little, until suddenly Taeyong slaps your hand away, hard.

"Nice try," he says harshly, "but I don't want a fucking hand job. I want you to use that pretty mouth and swallow my dick, and if you can't do it on your own, then I'm going to help you."

He didn't sound mad, exactly, but it was clear to you what he was implying, so you try to take him a little deeper. He’s so big and thick, that you struggle, backing off again almost immediately. With each time your cheeks hollow as you suck harder on the head of his dick, he groans and without warning, his hand tightens hard in your hair, pushing your head forward, forcing you to take a little more than half of his cock all at once.

Your throat stretches around him, and almost instantly you’re gagging, your airway being constricted around him. He pulls your head back off his cock just as forcefully as he had pushed you forward, letting you focus again on just the head. Taking the moment, you catch your breath, swallowing a big gasp of air, and then, he’s pushing you forward again. This time you manage to take another inch or so before gagging hard, and once again he pulls you back.

As you gag around his thickness the third time, you can feel your pussy clenching, your clit throbbing for attention yet again. Taeyong seems to read your mind, because he laughs as he pushes you forward again, "You like that, don't you baby? You like it when I make you choke on my big cock don't you? It's making you hot, making you want me to fuck you again, isn't it?"

You groan around his cock that’s almost all the way in your mouth, only about one inch that you still hadn't managed to swallow yet. That wasn't good enough for him though, he wanted you to actually answer him. He jerks your head and pulls you away, "Answer me, baby girl, you like having me fuck your throat like this?" He uses your hair to tilt your head, making you look up at him.

Your eyes are watering and your throat’s spasming, but you manage to let out a garbled yes, and then shock him by plunging your own head forward, swallowing his whole cock, on your own.

"Fuuuuck, that's a good girl," you can hear him groaning above you, and even as you gag his words were having an effect on you. You grind the back of your throat against the head of his cock, feeling your lips press against his crotch. Taeyong tries to pull you back off to let you breathe, but you don't budge, loving the feeling of him filling your throat.

He tugs at your hair harder, and harder, until finally you have to obey and back off, feeling your scalp tingle from the pulling. You gasp for air, surprised to realize you needed it so badly, and then he brings you back on his dick hard, causing you to gag again in surprise, and moan in pleasure. You reach up with your hand and squeeze his balls, while you suck on the cock deep in your throat. You sneak your tongue out at the base of his dick, and tease the edge of his balls with it, causing his hand to tighten hard in your hair, while he jerks his hips forward and grinds his dick deeper. His breathing becomes ragged as he moans in pleasure. His cock throbbing inside your mouth as he sighs, “I’m going to-”

He twitches, a jet of milky fluid spurting from the end of his shaft, landing in your hair, catching you off guard. You jerk aside at the sudden movement, the next spurt splattering on the fabric above your shoulder. Thick gobs of goo well up between your fingers and run down your wrist.

He sighs, holding still, eyes closed until he finishes. When he pulls away from you suddenly, you lose your balance, falling onto your ass as you land on the floor. You stare up at him, a mixture of desire and lust in your eyes; your face completely painted.

"Now it's your turn." He bends down, reaching into the drawer sitting beside the bed, and takes out the dildo from the day before. The vibrating egg, the straps and all the toys he'd used previously floods through your mind as you recall the experiences; feeling a little giddy. Now that you were face to face, you finally had a chance to notice the details of the object. It was made of black rubber, heavily veined and ridged, extremely realistic-looking, and it was big.

You jump back onto the bed, spreading your legs eagerly as he twists the knob at its base. Yet when he climbs up onto the bed, you shrink back, scooting away until your back bumps against the head of the bed.

He switches a button on at the base of the dildo, handing it over to you. "Fuck yourself."

You sit frozen, staring at it. “W-what?”

"If you don’t do as you're told, you will be punished. I said, fuck yourself."

You lower the vibrating dildo gingerly between your legs, and touch yourself lightly with the head.

"Now!" he growls.

You shake and without thinking, shove the dildo into your wet, aching pussy. The size is smaller in girth in comparison to Taeyong but it’s still big enough to fill you.

"That's better. Now fuck yourself. Hard. Don't stop until you come."

You begin moving the dildo in and out, tentatively at first. He watches you, frowning slightly, as his eyes command you to move more quickly. You increase the tempo, forcing the dildo into you faster and harder, red with helpless, impotent shame. Your pussy clenches around it, and you can feel its texture, every ridge and vein leaving an explosion of sensation. The powerful vibrations penetrate you, and soon you’re lost in the feeling, masturbating openly in front of him.

A sharp knock comes at the door and you stop, your blood turning to ice in your veins as you whip your head in the direction.

"I didn't tell you to stop. Fuck yourself!"

You whimper and obey. The dildo plunging in and out.

Taeyong grabs the bathrobe still littered on the bed and leaves the bedroom, closing the door almost completely behind him. Your jaw aches, and the bed bangs against the wall softly with every movement, the knock in sync with the dildo as you fuck yourself alone and in silence.

You hear Taeyong’s voice in the other room, his sigh loudly audible to you.

The front door slams shut yet again and you sneak a peek at the creaked open bedroom door, waiting for Taeyong to come back. He enters a minute later, his frustration seemingly maxed as he closes the bedroom door behind him, leaning against it as he watches you instead.

“D-Did something happen?” You squeak out, your movements slowing as you try and continue plunging the dildo into yourself.

“Nothing that can’t be handled.” He mutters before his anger turns into a grin, “Baby let me watch you from here. It’s a better angle.”

Time seems to slow, and you become acutely, painfully self-aware. The weight of the cum streaked in your hair, the slight tickle of the rivulets of wetness crawling down your wrists and over your breasts, the faint itching of dried semen on your chin, the steady buzzing vibration of the dildo inside your pussy, all filling your consciousness. You hear, from far away, a long, thin wail, then realise with a startle that it’s coming from you.

The butterflies grow into a whirlwind in your belly, and you ram yourself with the dildo, fulfilling your arousal; forgetting Taeyong’s presence. Tightness grips your chest, your legs begin to shake, and you come. You scream in ecstasy and contract powerfully around the thick rubber dildo. Your entire body shaking with the force of your orgasm...and for just a brief instant, right at the peak, you wonder what it would feel like to have his penis in your mouth while you cum. You barely get a second to breathe before Taeyong approaches you, "Did that feel good?" You whimper wordlessly, eyes squeezed shut as you roll in your orgasm, dragging it out. Taeyong kneels beside you and you look up at him with question in your eyes. He offers no explanation, but instead lifts you into his arms and carries you like a child into the bathroom. Like a fragile and delicate possession of his.

He lowers you into the enormous tub and runs the water letting you move to sit up, making space for him. He sits opposite of you, the spacious room allowing the two of you to sit comfortably. The water fills slowly and you stay in silence, your eyes locked with his as he gives off a much gentler aura, gazing at you softly.

“Baby I have to leave you alone today.” He hums, breaking the silence.

It takes a minute for the words to register and another minute for you to come up with a reply. The reality suddenly bringing you back as you realise you were still technically a hostage to him. Maybe this was a chance to escape?

“How long will you be gone?”

Taeyong reaches forward, turning the running tap off, “I should be home before midnight tonight; will you be okay?”

You change your line of sight, choosing to stare at the clear water instead, “Yeah.”

***

It’s a little after 9 in the morning when Taeyong’s finally about to go, “I’ll leave you one of my old phones okay?” He tells you, placing it on the kitchen counter “Don’t bother trying to contact anyone, everything’s blocked except my number.”

You stay seated on the kitchen stool, “What?”

“If you look in the contacts you’ll find my number,” he explains, fixing the buttons to his shirt, “text me if you need something and call me if it’s an emergency.”

You stare at the phone in loss, your only chance of calling for help being slammed shut. Your daze is cut short when you hear the front door click open, “Taeyong wait!” scrambling off the chair, you run over to him as he pauses, “Why won’t you let me contact anyone? What about my family? My friends? I have classes to attend as well!”

“Look, baby.” He hums, voice exasperated, “Let’s talk about this tonight, I have to go now, I’m late.” He leans down, placing a kiss on your lips as you stand in defeat, “Be a good girl and wait for me.” ____

let me know what you think :) or anything you want to see upcoming?

#nct smut #nct mafia #nct #nct taeyong #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct fanfics #taeyong smut #nct au #smut #kpop smut #taeyong #nct127 #lee taeyong #nct yandere #taeyong imagine #kpop mafia

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mimithings97 · 5 years ago

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How to Make Him Cum 101 (M)

Summary: You’ll love each other in sickness and health, hungover or hangry, sexless or… well, it’s becoming a little harder for the pants to stay on despite the calls of ‘let’s take this slow’ on the first date.

Pairing: Jungkook x Y/N

Genre: University AU, Smut, Fluff, Angst (tiny bit), Crack

Warnings: (Plenty my friend) Handjob, Fingering, Squirting, Sex without protection, Tongue fucking, Jungkook being whipped, Chocking (brief), Dry Humping, Jungkook cumming in his pants, lots of swearing, lots of alcohol consumption, consumption of weed

Word Count: 15k (it was meant to be 10k, but I fucked it)

A/N: I love Jungkook in this, he’s a sweetheart who has no fucking idea what he’s doing. Took me way too long to write this and I’m sorry if it drags, but I split it into little scenes to make it more manageable. It’s also pretty casual - no real storyline. Enjoy and suggestions always welcome x

“I swear to fuck, if he throws up my £2000 bourbon...”

And by some miracle, neither the end of Taehyung’s sentence nor the £150 shot Namjoon halfheartedly threw back makes an appearance.

“Nah big man can handle his shit right Joon,” is the mere drunken support offered by Jimin. It’s also accompanied by an all-too heavy hand to the back that has the elder spluttering on air, the shot well and truly burning a hole in his stomach by now.

You observe from the distance of the kitchen, fortunately barricaded from the testosterone fest by the island and several misplaced sofas. It was Jimin’s idea to upgrade the sofa scheme to one that was more ‘drinking and smoking friendly’ so he liked to call it, taking a sufficient 30 minutes just to manoeuvre several pieces of furniture into a circle that centred around all too expensive liquors and cheap weed - the irony of the contrast had most certainly dawned on you.

Your unexpected appearance to the gathering was on the account of boyfriends hazy state. He was all ‘come save me’ and ‘i’m dying’ over your texted conversation but upon arrival, the boy was all over that tequila bottle like he was downing chocolate milk.

Despite your best intentions of remaining inconspicuous and merely Jungkook’s driver for the night went to shit when Jimin, unapologetic and somewhere between happily stoned and confident drunk demanded you join their escapades.

“Booze or bud but not neither Y/N.” Nothing like a typical Taehyung to welcome you to the action.

“Well you didn’t say I couldn’t have both,” is your reply that’s laced with a brazen tone and paired with a smirk.

You’re met with Taehyung tonguing his cheek.

“That’s my girl,” Jungkook shouts mid-laugh and gives you a smack to the ass for good measure. You find comfort in the gesture, so following his drifting hand to the point that you settle in his lap.

Jungkook must have drunk his weight in alcohol because it’s all touches from behind you, cold hands finding their way under cloth and onto warm skin, lips clamping down on your neck and teeth unforgiving on your ear lobe. Your boyfriend’s a modest guy even at worst, so his provoking actions are met with raised eyebrows on your behalf.

Slowly but surely, with the burn of smoke in your lungs and the even harsher burn of rich whiskey (because £2000 bourbon is a harsh no), Jungkook’s hands roam freely.

“Jesus mate, if you’d have fucked her the second time you would’ve had that pussy on hold, swear down.” Somewhere between your silent touches and unauthorized smoking of all of Namjoon’s weed, the conversation had delved into the topic of Jimin’s overly privileged sex life.

“That’s exactly what I said but the bitch pussied out,” Hobi pipes up from the corner where he’d faded away from being too legit faded - boy never could handle his smoke.

“Fuck off did I pussy ou-”

“Nahhh she had you whipped babe, that second shag wasn’t even on the cards,” you mouth speaks for you. Or more like your high speaks for you at this point.

You feel Kook smile into your shoulder from where his head was perched.

“This’ll be good,” it’s under Taehyung’s breath but not inaudible.

“Fuck do you mean, ‘she had me whipped’, she was all over me that night at Joon’s...” Jimin swigs mid-sentence, flushed from the buzz of liquor and his overly defensive tone, “had her wrapped around my little finger.”

… the opportunity was too good to miss.

“What little finger?” You refrain from laughing at your own remark for dramatic effect but Jungkook’s squeezing your sides and the lightness of your head betrays you.

Jimin’s eye contact with your falters as if his ego broken, and the others pass around comments along the lines of ‘fucking brilliant’ and ‘unlucky mate’.

You take a final drag before passing it behind you to the already seeking hand of your boyfriend who’s still amused by your smart-mouth.

“Jimin, I’m just saying,” you elaborate in hopes of restoring his cracked masculinity somewhat, “from what Stephanie told me, Mina had four guys on hold at that party and wasn’t inclined to let any of them stick in on her cos she’s got a full-on guy waiting for her away from uni.”

He huffs, throwing himself and his bottle backwards onto the sofa, causing it to slosh around and out. You peer over at Taehyung, waiting for the boy to morph into an expression of disgust because god knows, this sofa cover costs more than your rent, but he never does - eyes glazed and a small smile instead.

“Fucking brilliant, I was fifth on a girls ‘need to shag’ list.” You almost feel bad for the sod, but one thing Jimin could never do was keep his mouth shut when it needed to be. “At least I’m doing better than you, Y/N, you can’t even get a fuck off your boyfriend and you’ve been together for months.”

Taehyung’s smile drifts, Hobi shifts in his seat and Jungkook stiffens from behind you - the air dries up.

“Jimin, mate, come on,” Joon tries to reason, but as per usual Jimin keeps his mouth moving.

“I said what I said.”

Yeh, he sure fucking did. And if one thing was known to be uncharted conversation between the lot of you, then that was your and Jungkook’s abstinence. But in true style, Jimin just had to pry.

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“Fuck it, maybe we should just have sex,” he finally says as you stall over wiping off your eyeliner to laugh at his exasperation. Jungkook wasn’t insecure but he was easily influenced when something hurt his pride - and you could tell, from Jimin’s comment, throughout the awkward air that lingered in the car, to just now, that he had been stewing on the dent to his ego from the moment it was spoken.

You want to tell him with all the sarcasm in the world how ‘romantic’ he’s being about it all, but you refrain to save further damage.

“Kook-”

“Nah, seriously Y/N, I’m tired of this shit…” you want to diffuse his state, but he persists, “and- I don’t really know what I’m waiting on now.”

“Baby,” you finally get a grip on his attention as he lets out a huff and welcomes you onto his lap. “You’ve had your reasons to wait on this, I’ve always respected that. But…” he groans and you lean into him as a warning to let you finish, “buttt, I’m not gonna respect any shit when you’re letting Jimin decide for you. Just cos the boy can’t get his dick wet doesn’t mean you have to.”

You feel him snicker against your shoulder as he lowers his head in frustration.

“You do this on your own time. Not mine,” you weave your fingers through his locks and anchor him to you, “not Jimin’s, not anyone but yours,” and finalise your sentiment by situating your lips on his temple.

With eyes fluttering shut into your touch and a heavy breath out he indulges in his insecurity. “I just can’t afford to lose you.” And you know it takes his booze-filled conscience to let you in.

You have to admit that there was some level of hurt you managed to hide at this point. That even after relishing in one another's company for 5 months, Jungkook still couldn’t find it in himself to trust you in that way. It was a mental thing, an emotional instinct of too many failed relationships where he was a victim to being cheated on, left after being used for sex and prayed on for good looks and unfortunate vulnerability. You knew within yourself you would never and could never do what so many have done before you. Fuck, you couldn’t even see yourself being sane and capable without him, ever, period. For that, you respected his decision - whilst frustratingly prolonged - because you knew he was worth the wait.

“I need you just as much as you need me.” You sense the slump in his shoulders, the heaviness of too many pressures and burdens weighing them down. That and his drug-induced state causing unwanted fatigue. “Hmm?” So you lift his chin and search his eyes till they meet yours, passing on a reassurance that he finally accepts with a curt nod.

“Yeh, I know.”

You press a kiss, or two to his lips and lean back to raise an eyebrow at him.

“Now are you gonna keep sulking to yourself like a bitch or let me make you cum?” His instant response is his eyes blowing out in shock of your statement before laughing into your chest. You know him well enough that he is using your chest to hide the blush in his cheeks but you don’t mention it.

Instead, you wiggle your hips with no subtlety into the twitch of his groin that seeks your mouth so desperately, laughing when he grabs you at the cheeks and pulls you away to say, “You’re fucking mental.” But against his lips you can’t help the, “-Nd you love me for it,” that is mumbled.

Yeah, this boy was definitely worth the wait.

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Weekends seem to roll around at a quickening pace when you have a needy boyfriend and even more demanding party schedule to fill the gaps. And by some freak of nature, you hadn’t managed to drop your education off a cliff in the meantime - in fact, you had begun to make a living off having beer in one hand and highlighter in the other.

University wasn’t a walk in the park, but you’d been enough of a devoted intellect in your first two years of it to allow yourself to drop off the map a little. So, after becoming a co-captain of the swim team somewhere into your second year, it was only a natural, human instinct kind of reaction that your fellow captain, the hunk of abs who graced poolside, would slip a few too many flirty remarks at you before you called him your boyfriend. He’d pined and you’d fallen - simple as.

He came with baggage though. Six boys and a whole lot of booze and weed. You were no saint before Jungkook, hell, you almost weren’t allowed swim captain because you’d slept in one too many of the guys beds. But as soon as you’d said ‘yes’ to the going out for drinks invitation he offered, you had also said ‘yes’ to the party on Saturday at Hoseok’s, and the one on Sunday down at the river, and for every weekend for the next 5 months. And slowly but surely, it was no longer, ‘this is my girlfriend’ as an introduction, but you asking the familiar face around the party with all urgency where the nearest bottle of tequila was.

It’s also how you’d landed yourself filthily hungover in your Monday lecture, listening to Professor Snape (nah, it’s his real name and all) with a noticeable shake in your hand and last nights mascara somewhere down your face.

“If you look that shit, then what the hell does Kook look like.” Mina, the best friend, the only one allowed to hold back your hair whilst you would throw up in a second-floor bathroom, and the roommate who made student life just a bit more bearable than the shit show it was.

She takes the seat next to you, her question probably rhetorical but you make the effort to reply, all the same.

“Still asleep in the bathtub I reckon.” Ah, yes, the boyfriend. At somewhere between 1 in the morning and blackout drunk you, Jungkook and your infamous competitiveness called for beer pong - minus the beer, add the vodka. So it was only gonna be a certain amount of time before both you and him were pushed into a cab on top of one another and drafted back to his flat so he could throw up in his bathtub.

“Jesus,” Mina mutters with a laugh, probably just relieved someone ordered your taxi to go to his and not your shared apartment - like hell was she listening to Jungkook throw up at 5 in the morning.

“Honestly, why does Yoongi host that shit on Sunday,” you groan into your laptop, turning down the brightness because you can already feel the afternoon hangover headache arising.

“He doesn’t have a 9am like the rest of us.”

“Fucker.”

Good host though, Yoongi. A postgrad, with his own two-storey apartment and too much time on his hands. You’d known him before the boyfriend too, working shifts with him in your first year at a music production company, both in the catering section because you had time to fill and tuition to pay and he was hoping to find his break into the industry. He fucked it though and has ended up with some crazy paid apprenticeship at a financial branch in the city centre.

“Oi, Bob’s this weekend?” Mina poses the question as the lights brighten in the lecture room and everyone starts shutting laptops - yours was shut ten minutes ago when you stopped listening and started wallowing in self-pity.

“Bob’s?” Bermuda Bobs. A club in the centre of town, and somewhat of a regular for Friday nights, when Hoseok had had just about enough of hosting. “Yeh. Yeh, I can do Bobs.”

Mina’s up and off before you can even open the zip on your bag, something about she’ll miss her lift to training, but you mumble that you’ll see her at the apartment later before you can see the back of her head.

All you can think as you conquer the steps to the exit of the hall is how much of a blessing a shower and a cup of tea would be - ‘so easily pleased’ Mina would say. So, when you look up from your phone to see Jungkook opposite where you walk out, a cup of tea in hand, you might just believe in fate.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he says, throat hoarse as he takes you bag from your shoulder and places the coffee into your welcoming hands. You laugh at him, a snort because it’s ironic considering the bloodshot eyes and beer-stained hair he sports.

“You were passed out in the bath legit an hour ago,” his hand finds yours despite your teasing and when you finally take the first sip of tea as you walk, anyone would think the noise you made was nothing short of an orgasm - Jungkook certainly takes notice. “Did you bring the car?”

He snorts, “Like fuck did I bring the car, I’m still drunk.”

“Babbbyy,” it’s a whine as you throw your head back and pull his hand to make your point into a tantrum.

“It’s literally a 5 minute walk babe, suck it up.” He continues ahead, but you go full 5 year old tactics on him, stopping in your tracks and whacking on your face the biggest pout your lips will allow.

He merely rolls his eyes and kisses it away before presenting his back to you, arms out, legs bent and you hop onto him like the spoilt girlfriend you are.

“You’re a brat, you know that.” Is all he says as he starts the walk out of the building and towards his, so you kiss behind his ear.

“Mmm, call me that again, it kinda turns me on.”

“Fucking filty,” but you see the crinkle in his eyes that lets you know that he loves you for it.

----------------------------------------

Friday nights roll around quicker than you know when Bob’s is calling. They start earlier than most nights as well - lecture leads to swim training, swim training calls for afternoon drinks at Warehouse and then Warehouse blurs into Pre’s that blurs into Bob’s.

So with beer curdling in your stomach, trying to flick the wing of your eyeliner and failing for the fifteenth time is as funny as Jimin’s pinkie to you and Mina.

She is, of course, ready. Has been for almost 2 hours, so whilst you struggle to slip into your dress, she finishes your eyeliner for you.

The buzz of your phone has both of you looking to the vibrating device in confusion, having to double-take with each other because the taxi isn’t supposed to be here until Jungkook is and he isn’t supposed to be here for another half an hour.

Your fumbling with a zip so it’s Mina who reaches for it, and when the screen lights her face, her features go from confused to ‘for fucks sake’ in less than a second. She turns it and that god awful photo of Jungkook and his swimming goggles on lights up the display.

“I’ll get the door.” She’s exasperated. He’s early and she can’t stand that - all it took was him showing up at the wrong time on a Wednesday whilst she was naked on the sofa with a girl between her legs that caused the ‘come when you’re fucking asked to come’ attitude - poor boy didn’t even know she was gay.

You do a once over in the mirror before the door swings open, Mina has a scowl but your boyfriend has a lime in one hand and tequila in the other, so you don’t care.

“Shit, you look hot,” Fuck, so does he, but he’s pressing a kiss to your lips before you can drink him in fully, “s’that dress new?”

“I did the makeup, thank me.” Mina was always loud, and speaking at the wrong places and in the wrong conversations.

“Kindly fuck off, you did the eyeliner and shit all else.” You turn back to Kook, now leaning against your wall, eyes still trained on you, or at least, your legs, and he looks fucking thirsty that’s for sure. “And yeh, got it when I went in the city the other week.” He replies with a nod and a smirk. Those damn bedroom eyes, they hold your gaze, as you fiddle with the clasp on the side of your dress.

Mine pipes up from the sidelines, “God, it’s like I’m watching a fucking mating ritual or something.” Jungkook scoffs and his shoulders ease as though he’s calming himself down, “Well, I’m ready so shots it is.” She grabs the bottle of tequila from Jungkook’s hand and is off into the kitchen without looking back.

“Who put a foot up her ass then?” He only says it once the door is closed, knowing he’ll get a whacking if Mina heard him, so you scowl at him, albeit through a smile.

“Oi, watch it,” you’re in front of him now, leaning into the arm he stretched out to embrace you in.

“Sorry,” and he means it. He genuinely likes Mina, you’re sure of it, but they go at each other like cats in an alley when you’re not there to referee it.

He’s warm around you, his shirt with buttons undone at the top so that the cologne he’s wearing goes right to your head - and to your core - either one. The proximity does the same to him as he takes a handful of your ass, groping so that when you gasp and try to pull away, he administers a slap.

You can’t deny you’re horny for him, and the way his trousers frame his bulge perfectly - you lick your lips subconsciously at the thought - but you can almost hear the sadness of Mina pouring and downing Tequila shots by herself.

“Fucker,” you whisper and lean out of his hold almost, only to see that fire in his eyes.

“I love this ass,” hands now sneaking underneath the fabric of your dress - like it was covering much anyway, but that doesn’t change the way his cold fingers spread across your behind and almost make you moan out. It’s when he takes your bottom lip in his teeth and pulls back agonizing slowly until it pops back into place that the moan you were stifling releases, slowly, seductively, and his crotch stirs at the thought of you making the same noise around his dick.

But if Kook can restrain himself enough into denying you a fuck for 5 months, then you can be just as disciplined now - whether the wetness on your thighs tells you something different or not.

You toy with him though.

At a pace nothing short of tormenting, you lean your leg into the space between his, drag your lips across his cheek to his ear and let your fingers draw a line from the gap in his shirt, underneath and across his chest, “But you know what’s better than this ass, baby?” You play the seductress with you voice, and you know it does bits to him.

Your question was rhetoric, but when he doesn’t reply, you can’t help but grab at his belt with a hand and tug his crotch into your leg. He sputters out breathily into your neck, “W-what?”

You lean back, wait for his eyes to open and gage the lust and excitement brewing within them before opening your mouth against his…

“...Tequila shots.” You smack his thigh, turn and are out the door before his erection can say ‘shit’.

Two can play at his game of denial.

Your all kinds of worked up despite your best efforts, but Mina’s got lime in her mouth and her face crinkled into an expression of disgust as you eye the empty shot glass on the counter, so it’s not like she’s gonna be sniffing out your hormones any time soon.

“Fucking shit, rancid, I hate it, don’t wanna drink ever, absolutely not,” you laugh at her outburst as you refill her shot glass for yourself.

“Lightweight,” you tease her as you throw it all back, wincing internally as you feel the hole burn in your throat, but suck it up for the sake of your competitive streak. She merely scoffs at you as the bedroom door swings open, Jungkook - still a fine piece of ass right now - tucking his shirt into his trousers. No way did he just finish himself off in that time, but your eyes travel down to his hard on that is very much still there. You can’t help the smirk.

“Kook, get your shot down you then we’re off,” Mina announces.

“Taxi here already?” he questions but she shakes her head as she now sports a wine bottle in her hand, and clearly a mouth full of wine as she fails to verbalise.

Shots are down, wine is drunk, and heads are well and truly dizzy when you reach the club. The cab was early much to Mina’s dismay, but that didn’t stop her from grabbing the tequila bottle from Jungkook and downing a healthy portion of the liquid before collapsing in instant regret - ‘we’ve all been there Min’ was your only advice. As for Jungkook. Well, the boy never showed when he was drunk until he would take his shirt off and shout he was wasted, so the only way you could gauge his state was by the way his fingers dug into your thigh the entire journey - you just couldn’t work out whether it was the alcohol or his dick talking.

“Y/NNN!” you hear before see Jimin, despite the music that reverberates through the floor and up your body. As always, he has bottle in hand and a girl in the other, but he releases her to embrace you.

It’s a love, hate with Jimin, but he was Jungkook’s best friend, so there was and could not be bad blood between the two of you - much the same to Jungkook and Mina. Jimin swam as well, so you were no strangers to sharing situations that required great comfort with one alone - such as you in a swimming costume and him in his damn speedos. There was only one thing better than Jimin in speedos though, and that was Jungkook in speedos.

“Where’s your boyfriend, he owes me a fucking drink,” and you point to the bar, where he leans over the counter in all his glory and much to the fortune of your eyes. Jimin escorts himself and the girl he’s with over to the bar before you can catch her name - she’s pretty, though, which is no surprise with Jimin’s taste.

It takes the next 30 minutes, or possibly longer because alcohol tends to blur hours to minutes before you’ve made conversation with everyone there. It’s almost admin now, having to do the rounds when all the people from swimming go out - a swim captain apparently has certain obligations of seeing everyone had a drink in hand and a ride to go home in. Kook was doing the same too, across the club, slowly but surely making his way towards you as he talked to some of the guys. He’d winked one too many times at you for it to be coincidence, and the alcohol you’d been consuming was screaming out to you now to fuck the pointless conversation and grind on your damn fit boyfriend.

“Fuck Josh, Mel, the boy can’t even get it up, and you’re too much of a hot piece of ass to waste on him,” Mina’s on one of her motivational talks with the social sec, Mel - absolute sweetheart, heart of gold and awful taste in men. Also the subject of Mina’s subconscious flirting for the last hour or so, but you don’t have the heart to tell Mina to stop - she’s drunk and probably horny knowing her.

“Y/N,” you’re face first in your vodka red bull (double), to hear Mina, having zoned out from her pining after she started getting emotional. “Y/N!” You finally ease up on the drink when you hear her this time.

“Hmm?” mouth half full.

“Have you ever seen someone get eye fucked?” Her eyes flicker from you to something else, but you’re too caught up in the absurdity of her question to notice.

“The fuck?”

“Because I’m watching it happen right now,” and it’s a nod that finally directs your questioning gaze away from your best friend and to a figure at the bar, elbows tucked behind him, a bottle of beer at his side, legs to die for and eyes boring right into yours. He’s playing dirty tonight, is all you think. So despite the way your core tightens and the hair on your neck unknowingly rises, you feed into his game, the cat and mouse kind of thing he seems to be grabbing at, and put up your facade.

You're slow to get to him, but it’s deliberate. And instead of giving in to his gaze or his touch, you place your feet right beside his, leaning towards the bar and into the sight of the bartender.

It’s the raise of her eyebrows at you and the curt smile that prompts you to talk, “two shots of tequila please,” she begins to spin but you stop her, “oh, and plenty of salt and lime.”

It takes physical energy not to give in to human instinct - to touch and to grab him, to let go of the role play.

“Anyone would think you’re ordering for two,” his voice is gravely, and fuck if it doesn’t shoot straight down you. But his comment makes you smile, smirk actually.

“You say that as if I can’t handle my alcohol,” you raise an eyebrow to yourself, still feigning your confidence by not looking his way.

Two shots are lined up in front of you, limes perched on top, and a generously filled salt shaker to the left of them.

“Well tequila is a dangerous game to play,” you pick up either shot in your hand, and fight the urge to shiver as his words that are breathed against your ear. You round from the side of him, eyes finally lifting to his and filling some void that was there, but by no means lifting any tension between the two of you.

“Then let’s play dangerously,” you say, eyes sultry and him waiting on your every move, “the first one to have their salt, their shot and their lime gone first is the winner..”

“And what does the winning get?” Damn, he’s eager.

You lean in, but still don’t touch. “That’s for the winner to know, and the loser to find out.”

You can see a vague pick up in his breathing, a sheen of sweat forming against his brow and a vague smirk pulling at the edges of his mouth. Lifting the lime off your shot, he almost proceeds to do the same, about to take the shot to his lips but you stop him, instead pushing your shot into his vacant hand. The only explanation offered is when you take your lime down the column of your throat and down to your cleavage, before reaching to the salt that’s behind him. You pour a small mound of it onto your finger and follow the path that the lime drew. He eyes you like artwork, and doesn’t lift his gaze from your cleavage where you nestle the lime.

You pour more salt onto your forefinger, and his eyes finally lift in an expression of confusion, but words evade him - hell, he hasn’t taken a solid breath for the past minute. Slowly, tourturningly, you lean into him, carefully avoiding his shot, and catch his breath hitching as you press the point of your tongue into the base of his neck, dragging it upwards until you meet his jaw. You almost couldn’t stop yourself from proceeding further, drinking in the salty taste of him and eating away at his sanity with your tongue - but you refrain, all in the name of dramatic effect.

“Fuck,” is all he says as he keeps his breath hitched, and you push your finger down the line your tongue drew, spreading salt southwards.

He almost looks tapped out when you take his lime from between you, eyes completely glazed, and fortunately for you they blow out even further when you tug the belt of his trousers and place your lime in the waistband - like his erection wouldn’t have held it up anyways.

Retrieving one of the shots from his grasp, where his knuckles had turned white against the glass, you hold his gaze.

“I think you should go ahead,” you’re more breathy than you realised, even despite it being your game.

“I-I thought,” he has to clear his throat, “it’s who can do it the fastest,” it’s barely even a question with how quiet he mumbled the words - you’re not even sure he knew what he was saying.

“Who said I wanted to win, baby?” And he lets out a moan, a full blown moan before he encases your throat with his mouth, and he’s almost animalistic in the way he growls against your skin at the taste. He bites down when he reaches just above the lime and your eyes roll back unconsciously before opening to see him throw his head back with the shot, not a single wince in his eyes because they are so driven by desire. The shot glass is slammed behind him before he dives into your cleavage to retrieve the lime, and in some display of masculinity that almost has you keening he rips the lime from his mouth and tosses it behind you, juice rolling down his face and onto his jaw to linger with the line of salt that glistens there.

You don’t even realise you're on his throat until the overly salty taste pricks your mouth and you can feel his jaw tense beneath you. You're almost in a haze when the tequila sets your throat ablaze but you become fully conscious of the way he grabs a fistful of your hair, pushes you to the floor until your dress bunches and has you sucking at the lime that rests mockingly above his hard cock.

By some miracle you find yourself back up at eye level, chests heaving to the point of almost touching, and if you didn’t have a lime in your mouth right now you’d either be swearing obscenely in some gesture of saying ‘your so fucking hot’ or your lips would be around his dick.

With a gulp and a tilt of his head backwards, he gains a level of composure that allows him to ease the lime from your lips with his fingers, letting them brush at your skin to have you shivering.

It’s almost comical the way you both pant, eyes ablaze in each others, and completely oblivious to the outside world and how many, way too many people have seen your display. But there is nothing but the burn in your bodies right now as he grabs your hand wordlessly and drags you as fast as your heels will allow.

It’s like a switch had flipped in him somewhere back there. Even if this whole thing was roleplay, at least you knew how to play it with your boyfriend back there, knew the way he ticks and what would make his cock twitch - Jungkook’s normally easy to read like that. But when he almost breaks the disabled toilet door down with his hand, there is no game left to play - the restraints are off and the fire of lustful rage is fueled.

“You-” he slams you back against the door before its even swung shut and you can get a single word in. It’s carnal the way he’s latching onto your mouth, grabbing your hands that try to clasp at his neck and throw them up next to your head, and shoves a knee between your sopping thighs.

“I almost fucking came in my trousers back there when you got on your knees,” you don’t think you’ve ever heard his voice so low and rough before but it courses through you more than the heavy bass of the club music. “You had me stood there ready to fuck your mouth open, but you thought you’d fucking tease your way through it.”

He’s domineering and your completely and utterly keening for it. Even more so when the grip he has on your wrist tightens and brings it down to his crotch, forcing your latch onto the erection that strains sinfully, painfully in his trousers and you feel intimidated enough at his display that you don’t palm him, don’t give him a pleasureful squeeze like you normally would when you had more control of your emotions. But you're shocked and fucked out - beyond that even.

“You feel that shit. Fuck, I’ve never been this hard before,” you moan out lowly, finding it increasingly difficult to control your breathing, the nature of the lust in your body calling out for some friction on your body. But he stands there, eyes ablaze, panting his taunting remarks into your agape mouth. “You’re making it so damn hard not to fuck you.”

“Do it,” you whisper without even knowing and neither does Jungkook because the ringing in both of your ears is deafening.

“I’ve always wanted to see you fall apart around my cock… lose it as I fuck you,” his crotch starts riveting into your hand and you know he’s imaging what it would feel like with his dick nestled deep in your walls right now, “God I want to pound into you.”

“Fuck.”

Fuck, because never have his words been so dirty before.

“You’re so damn hot I actually can’t control myself right now,” and his dick follows his words. Your hand now acts as your pussy - in his head anyway - as the friction of his trousers begins sending him neck deep in pleasure.

You actually think you could come from watching it. How his head now bows into your neck and his teeth set into your skin because he can’t even control how slack his jaw has become. The way he’s getting harder and harder against your hand and his movements are constantly seeking more. Fucking hell, you’re both fully clothed, his dicks rock hard in his pants but he’s so pent up on you and the desire you’ve caused that he’s chasing an orgasm basically untouched.

“I- oh fuck.”

“Come on baby,” you feed him, words moaned against his ear and hand flattening more purposefully against him, “fuck me harder.”

“Argh- fuc-fucking hell,” he’s spurred on by the illusion you offer. His eyes rolled back in his head as he imagines the feeling of being balls deep in you.

“Think how good I’d feel. Fuck, you’d be so deep uhh,” you moan out at the end as the harshness of the way his hips snap into yours causes your hand nestled between you to deliciously rub on your clit.

You hadn’t realised that your dress had ridden up in the commotion of you sex driven states, that your ass was pressed up against the cool surface and gave you goosebumps despite the way you body oozes heat, that you panties were so wrecked by your arousal that your hand might as well be rubbing you raw. And with Jungkook’s quickening pace, the friction against your clit makes you all too driven to seek your end as well as his. It’s filthy.

“Ko-uh. Fuck, Kook, I need you fingers- ah,” your walls are throbbing at the thought, but his teeth remain deep set in the junction between your neck and shoulder, his hips still thrusting up and into your hand, so you think you’re desire has gone unheard.

But all too quickly, he forgets the end he was chasing.

Suddenly, he backs away from you, leaving you untouched and leaning forward into the air, whilst his cock screams in the confines of his trousers. He growls at the way he had to stop himself from cumming too soon.

“Baby,” it’s a whine from the back of your throat that you had no plan to release. But the way your chest heaves and your thighs cross one another for friction just spells to you and him just how inflamed your body is.

His eyes move away from your desperate ones, and his neck reclines back as he swallows - trying with all his strength to keep it together, to not cum from merely watching your cleavage, drenched in his and your sweat, rise and fall with the way your breathing staggers. Watching him is torture for yourself, but you don’t want to miss the way his cock throbs.

You have no idea how long you’re there, him grappling at his sanity and you watching him.

“Baby, I-”

“Fuck, don’t talk,” his face almost contorts in pain and his head lowers into his chest to halt his urge to look at you.

But, you’re horny and you're a brat, so you persist.

“Jungkook, I need you right now.”

Silence falls for a mere second.

Like a man possessed he lunges back towards your body, and before you can react he’s on his knees violently pushing the thin fabric of your dress up and ripping your panties down your legs.

“What don’t you understand about shut the fuck up.” And with that he’s on your clit, hands shoving your legs in opposite directions and over his shoulders so you lose your balance and end up speared on his tongue.

“Kook!” It’s a cry that’s shouted into the air when your head is thrown back - a reaction to both the immense feeling that tightens at your core and a warning to the man below you that you might just crush him.

But he’s devouring your pussy whole. He’s no longer tending to your clit, but lapping his tongue up and down the entire expanse of your slit, letting the muscle of his tongue slip into your entrance making your stomach drop every time. He’s hellbent on making you cum that’s for sure, because no matter the tug of your hands at his scalp to let up even just a little, he’s growling into you and plunging deeper.

You want to pull away, to finally take a break from the intense pressure on your core or maybe to breathe for the first time since he decided to drop to his knees. But you’re feet don’t touch the ground, literally, and he’s suspending you on his tongue.

His hands push you down further onto him and he growls into you, vibrations coursing through you that almost makes you cum then and there. But he breaks away.

“Fuck,” he sounds fucked out himself, taking in all the air he can, because god knows he was eating your pussy like it was oxygen. “Baby, you gotta cum on my tongue, please.”

He was the one eating you out, yet you had him pleading. Boy always did submit in the end, whether he liked it or not.

“Fingers then. Use your fingers,” and he obeys, releasing your thigh in favour of thrusting two of his digits deep into you. All your weight goes onto his shoulders and the two fingers set so far into your womb that you were crying out in pleasure. It wasn’t until his mouth resumed sucking on your clit that you lost all control of your tongue and rambled into the air like a mad woman.

“F-Fuckkk Kook. I want ah- fuck I want your cum inside me. I want your dick so bad,” he’s moaning with you and with your words, being spurred on by the image you paint. He curls his fingers deep inside you, and you lose yourself on the feeling - being so stimulated that you miss the fact you’re grinding on his face, thrusting up as if his fingers were really his cock. He’s moaning at it, at the way your pace picks up on his tongue and you’re seeking your end.

“Don’t stop, oh fuck, oh fuck, please- don’t stop.”

You’re driving yourself deeper and deeper into him and fuckkk if the pleasure hasn’t taken over your senses beyond belief. Your stomach pulls so tight with the need to release that you’re grappling at the strands of hair on the back of your boyfriend’s head and using them to anchor yourself. He’s purely a mouth and two fingers to fuck yourself on at this moment and you couldn’t stop yourself even if you tried.

“Shit, fuckk,” his fingers start going at a rate, not even your hips can keep up with, and he’s so deep you almost choke like the pressure inside you has reached up into your throat.

“Come on baby, fuck,” his gravelly voice seeks out for you to come all over him.

“Holy fuckin-” the feeling comes on so intense inside of you that you struggle to warn him, your breathing constricted almost into nothingness. You feel like you’re about to cum with such strength that you might die.

“I can’t Kook- oh fuckk.”

“Give it to me.”

His teeth clamp down on your clit at the same time as his fingers curl against that spot inside you that suddenly has everything spiralling at once.

“Don’t stoppp, don’t stop, oh fuck,” you sputter into the air as a band snaps in your lower stomach, blood pumping everywhere and anywhere in your body so that your hips begin spasming and convulsing on top of his mouth.

He whines into you as his mouth keep fastening all too strongly against your bud. It’s when the pressure that keeps falling in your stomach and Kook is forced to pull his fingers out of you that you feel your juices spill and keep spilling all over you and him.

“Holy fuck baby… Y/N shit.”

You tumble further and further and miss the noises that are pushed from your throat. In the intensity of the pleasure you also miss the way Jungkook’s body, his tongue on your clit, his fingers on your thigh and the ones lodged deep inside you, all tense up.

Shit.

You wonder if you’ve blacked out when the slump of your body takes over, the eventual air you take in in one large breath making your senses begin to come back all too strong. You’re broken from the waist down, legs numb to the point you can barely feel Jungkook’s teeth tight on your thigh and breath glazing the skin strongly. Shit, you can’t even feel how wet you are yet.

You know the weight he’s bearing on his shoulders, but you can’t muster the strength to move, merely loosening your hands from how tight they were wound in his locks and instead soothing down to his neck with your trembling fingers.

Finally, the spin in your head stops and your eyes are open enough so that you can look down at the sight below you.

He’s breathless and wet. Wet from sweat and the way you’d just squirted all over his tongue, fingers and trousers - well that’s what you figure anyways. His eyes are sewn shut though in the aftermath of it all, and your thoughts begin to piece together.

“Baby, you good?” you’re scared he has too much literal weight on his shoulders. You’re also scared he’s still painfully hard. “Kook?” and finally a coherent mumble of ‘yeh’ against your thigh tells you, no, you didn’t just kill your boyfriend by cumming on his face.

It’s a slow process the way he lets your legs down, and you wince as he does so because you swear his fingers just split you open. You also forgot about the heels practically taped to your feet, stumbling a little one foot at a time as he lowers you off his shoulders.

His eyelids still hang low, and he makes no move to join you at eye level, instead, pressing his face into your thigh and running his ragged breath there for too long.

“Fuck, seriously, you good baby?” your pussy still throbs, but your boyfriend is too still for you to take notice.

And suddenly he’s laughing. Wholeheartedly laughing into your skin, back, that’s slicked with sweat, raising up and down as he does so.

“Shit,” is all he says when his eyes, crinkled in laughter and exhaustion finally meet yours, peering up from his squat. It’s infectious and has you laughing too, albeit half heartedly because your throat hurts and you’re not sure if your lungs can take much more unnatural breathing.

“You literally just made me cum in my pants.”

Fuck. You’re eyes bulge and pass between the look of disbelief of his face, to the, now, very noticeable stain on his crotch, and back again. Boy literally just came untouched because you can still feel the imprint of one hand on your thigh and you’re pretty sure the other hand was occupied if you remember correctly.

“What the fuck!” Is all you can say.

“Yeh, I know ‘what the fuck!’ Sorry but since when could you squirt.” His legs are still shaking beneath him. “It made me just fucking shoot my load on sight.”

You’re laughing, bending at the waist to help the poor boy up to his feet, and he accepts the help as he finally towers over you and meets your eyes - both looking at each other with warmth and a vague emotion of disbelief, because as if he just came in his pants!

“Seriously, don’t know what the hell you just did to me, but I don’t think I’ll ever be that turned on ever in my life again,” he’s sputtering out now like a boy charged on drained hormones and ageing drunkness.

You laugh at his state and the way his eyes still bulge, grabbing the skin of his neck that’s thick with sweat and push a kiss to his lips. It doesn’t linger because you’re too spent and oxygen is like gold dust to you right now.

“So you enjoyed yourself I’m guessing?”

“Fucking hell did I!” You both can’t stop the way your laughter spills at the situation.

You see his shoulders eventually relax, his breathing less frequent and the look in his eyes turns soft.

“Fuck, I’m so in love with you.” Despite your heart still beating like it’s on steroids, you feel it skip a beat, equal to the way you can’t help the tug on the corners of your mouth.

“Cringy bastard,” you whisper next to his lips, a whole new warmth spreading through you at the way his eyes are filled with adoration.

“Only for you.”

“You make me sick.” But in your head, you’re saying the opposite, because you can’t fight the blush despite how generic his cringe worthy compliments hit.

With clothes vaguely realigned, you’re ready to join society once again, albeit hobbling, but your boyfriend refuses to break the bubble you’re in for just a second longer.

“Say it back.” And when you turn from the door to him, he’s actually pouting, eyes a little less bright as though you’re unspoken words have hit harder than you realised. “Please.”

Your relationship with Kook was built off backhanded compliments and competitive sarcasm, both equally easy-going people with a knack for not taking anything seriously. It was how you two worked. But there’s some things you can’t feign, and the way he said “I love you” with deliberate sadness was one of those things, because hell, you sure loved him too.

His cheeks nestled in both of your palms now as your soft eyes met his ones, vulnerable with the way he’d bared himself and pleaded after you, you spoke softly.

“I love you.”

---------------------------------------------------------

“Fuck you, Kook. Stop acting like you own me.”

“Then don’t try to sleep with the whole swim team.”

Dick.

This shit is rare. Fighting Jungkook is rare. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen. Because whilst you’re both too easy going for your own good and take most things on the chin, jealousy hurts like a bitch.

“Jesus you’re fucking testing my patience.” You settle yourself deep in his kitchen, long strides over there because his presence alone is making you want to rip hairs out of your skull. But he’s there soon after, leaning to try to get into your line of sight as you busy yourself with a glass and fuck, where’s that bottle of wine.

“Nah, don’t act like I’m pushing you. I asked you why Jimin’s asking to meet you, and you can’t come up with a damn straight answer or show me your phone.” You find the wine in the fridge, pretending Jungkook is background noise like the petty bitch you are, but his words are ringing in your head louder than you care for. “Don’t treat me like I’m delusional.”

You slam the bottle down a little too hard on the counter and his eyes jump to the sound. But your expression is dead set, angry, persistent, but he’d say stubborn.

“You’re actually dumb. The whole fucking issue is that I shouldn’t have to tell you why someone texts me or not.” His mouth opens to argue but you’re off on one, “Whether it’s Jimin, whether it’s my mum, whether it was your fucking maintenance guy, it’s my phone, don’t check it, and don’t pretend you’re entitled to.”

His eyes narrow and you almost think there’s something in him contemplating your words, maybe, just maybe trying to hear you out and understand where you’re coming from. But if you were stubborn, then Jungkook was competitive - he wouldn't stop until you thought he was right.

“Why the fuck did he text you.”

You want to scream. You want to smash his glass against the floor and scream fucking murder. But instead you find your body tensing and you face heating up with the need to cry. He’s getting in your head and you hate it, because he’s never like this. He’s easy. He’s such good company and probably your best friend but why is he making it so hard to like, let alone love him right now.

“Fuck it. Here,” you fish in your pocket, eyes still on his despite the feeling of them heating up and the wetness pooling. You unlock your phone and push it to his chest. “God knows, we were just trying to arrange something for your birthday without you finding out, but you and your fucking jealousy can’t take that, can they Kook?”

You have so much more to say. Your head is spinning with the need to empty your gut of all the words you want to throw at him. About how jealousy is certainly not a virtue in this case, about how you can’t bear that he doesn’t trust you despite all you’ve given up for him, about how damn unfair he is being right now. But you hit his shoulder with yours and are half walking half running to his bathroom before you can contemplate what you’re doing.

“Y/N, fuck,” and of course now he’s apologetic. Calling after you in a tone that screams innocence but to you, he is anything but that right now.

You close the door with haste and push your back against it even faster.

The worst part is you’re not even that angry anymore. The tears fall in sadness.

“Baby,” his knock rattles the door but only gently in an attempt to be sensitive with you. He’s fucked up and he knows that, but there’s a combination of not wanting him to see you cry and the need to be away from him for a minute that has you still sitting by the door, not making any attempt to open it.

“Baby, I didn’t know- I wouldn’t have.”

“Jungkook can you give it a rest for one minute,” you sound pained. You feel it as well. Maybe you’re overreacting, you think, as you hear him sigh and mumble an ‘okay’ before his footsteps peter out into another room.

You cry more and continue to do so as you begin to run the bath, and then more tears flow when you watch yourself in the mirror as you tug at your stained cheeks with a cloth. Your tears are still wet on your cheeks when you lower yourself into the warm water and become absorbed in the feeling of it, melting away until you fall into the slumber of sleep. It’s the same slumber that doesn’t cause you to be startled when the door creaks open, your boyfriend pausing to take in your state before he strips himself down to join you.

You know he’s there when he gently sinks into the water behind you, but you make no attempt to move out of the way his knees encase you. His touch is apprehensive and careful, and you can practically hear the thoughts in his head move at a thousand miles an hour.

You know Jungkook. You know all too well that right now, he’s cut up inside, thinking of every way possible to take back time and to undo the stupid shit he was spouting earlier. He’s thinking about how fucked up he was to let jealousy do that to him, to get the better of his, and he’s thinking of every which way to make it right to you. You know, because you’re the same. We’re all in the wrong at some point, and everyone is more than the worst thing they’ve ever done.

So you grab at his hands that still hover in the air with unspoken uncertainty and you pull them to yourself, tight, and on your neck there is a desperate sigh of relief.

“I’m so sorry,” his tone is so apologetic you almost start crying all over again, but exhaustion and the need to forgive are all too strong. “Y/N, I’m so sorry, I-”

You know there are more words he wants to say, maybe to show you how bad he feels, maybe he’ll try and justify himself, but either way, you’re pushover ass forgave him before the argument even happened. You also simply like the boy too goddamn much to see him splutter in your neck because he’s scared he’ll lose you.

With your lips pressed to the back of his hands that you’ve encased in yours, you mutter, “Shhh, I know you are.”

The water sloshes in the distance somewhere as he pulls you tighter to him like you’re an anchor and if he lets you go he’ll be lost. Kisses are placed down your neck gently and you let your eyes flutter shut again because you can’t lie in that he is the most comforting place to you right now.

Silence falls but not uncomfortably, fingers brushing skin like its china and breathing soft as you both give into each others touch.

“I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you.”

Maybe you are too forgiving Your mother always told you you were - ‘people won’t be so kind to your patience one day Y/N.’ - that’s what she’d told you. And she’s probably right that one day you’ll come to find that you’ve been used and abused for all the ‘it's okay’s’ and ‘I forgive you’s’ you’d uttered. But you didn’t use forgiveness as an easy way out, you used it when it was deserved. And Jungkook’s jealousy, whilst fucking annoying, was a human instinct - possibly more of a male instinct than female, you think - but it’s a natural reaction all the same. Compromise instead of conclusion.

“You have to start trusting me, you know.”

“I know,” a hasty response, maybe because he actually has realised he needs to trust you or maybe he just doesn’t want to prolong discussion. You hope and believe the first,

“You can’t keep this jealousy thing up. Particularly not with Jimin, I don’t want to be the reason your shit is ruined, it’s too good.”

The two of them best friends from the womb. But boys apparently will be boys and think any dick that goes near their girlfriend is aiming for one place and one place only, whether 21 years into friendship or not.

“I know.” The repeat of words makes you think he’s not listening to you, but then he sighs. “It’s just- I can’t- Fuck! He drives me up the wall, says all kinds of shit behind your back and mine about how fit you are because he knows it grills me.” This is new. “And then he sends you texts when I didn’t even know you had each others number and you won’t tell me what they are. It just fucked with my head and when you end up picturing the worst it’s hard to get that picture out of your head.”

It made sense, and he was getting angry with himself by the way his tone spiked, so you diffuse the tension.

“Hmm but if you weren’t so jealous your birthday wouldn’t have been ruined,” you feel his head slump and then he laughs, and you laugh, and then he’s squeezing you and forcing your eyes to his.

“You make me mental that’s why,” you’re close but he makes no move to kiss you, “and I’m sorry that I got like that when I had no reason to do so. I’ll change that I promise,” he sounded sincere, looked sincere, and you’re a sucker for the way he’s naked and so close his breath hits your smile that you’re kissing him before you can feign trust.

-------------------------------------------------------------

“You know you almost got me in big shit the other day,” the bell rings above your head as you and Jimin leave the cold in favour of the warmth of the bar. Thursday nights didn’t call for many people, so you found a seat easily at a booth, casual wear on and smile dancing across that idiots face.

“Kook told me.” Of course he did, “As if he got his dick caught between his legs because I sent you a text. Like does he really think I’d shag you.”

You scoff, “Cheers for that.”

“You know what I mean. If I got the chance I’d fucking take it, but Kook’s my brother,” and to be fair you did know what he meant. In fact it was a miracle Jungkook had been all calm and breezy when you’d told him you were meeting Jimin for drinks - maybe it was this new thing he was trying called ‘play it cool and let her do her own thing’ - even so, you liked it.

You end up ordering beers, after all, it is only a Thursday so that means no hard spirits, but it’s also the afternoon so that means alcohol.

“I’m glad to hear you’re not gonna pounce Jim.” He laughs, you laugh, thank god, because ever since you and Jungkook had shouted about the texting and Jimin issue, you were scared you’d have to keep a distance from the boy to prevent awkwardness. “How you been anyways?”

“Is that another way of saying who’ve I fucked since we last spoke,” his eyebrows wiggle like he’s got something to be proud about.

“Jesus, you only do think with your dick don’t you?”

“Come onn, ask me who I took home the other night,” he’s leaning forward with a smile that you want to smother, but you humour him for the sake of conversation.

“Which unlucky bird shared your bed the other night then?” You say it with a downward tone to express your distaste for the way your conversation has headed. You also nod a thank you to the waiter who’d brought beers over, pint on either side of the table.

“Well, maybe you should ask your roommate.”

Beer must fly out of your nose, mouth and ears with the way you choke. Literally, you’re spluttering everywhere and he’s laughing and you’re sure it’s a sick joke, but his smile says otherwise.

“She’s fucking gay!” That’s all you come up with. You know your roommate like the back of your hand, or so you think, and every part of you is wracking every part of your brain right now for some conversation where she said she’d shag Jimin, or shag a guy in fact. Nope, nothing.

“I thought so too, clearly she didn’t.” You’re angry at him by the way you scoff and take another long sip of your beer but you don’t even know why. Maybe you’re angry at her, but that also kind of feels invalid.

“As if she didn’t tell me.” He just shrugs. “... nah what the fuck man!”

“Listen, talk to her about it. I’m pretty sure I was mad drunk, so was she, and she left before I woke up so…” The last bit sounds about right, Mia was never one for sticking around for morning cuddles, but it’s all just wrong and it’s stewing in your head like a bad memory.

You're still questioning your entire existence it seems like when the conversation moves onto why you’re really here, or as Jimin says it, “So if the fucker knows we’re doing something for his birthday now, does that mean we actually have to do it?”

God, he’s hard to talk to. You find yourself for half your conversations with Jimin either saying ‘fuck off’ or your scoffing. You do the latter now.

“We were doing something anyway, don’t act like you don’t care. But yeh, he knows, so why don’t we just fucking put in money for alcohol and bud and hit up the beach or something at Hobi’s. Simples.”

Jimin downs his pint - it’s a Thursday and you don’t know why - and then nods, “Yeh, sounds like I can fuck with that. But let’s tell Taehyung cos he’s rich and loves weed more than the next person.”

----------------------------------------------------------

Like hell was there booze and weed. Taehyung had done the most, with Namjoon, and there was enough for 200 people to get fucked 10 times over, which with the 70 people that were apparently already at the beach, seemed like a mass death wish.

Hoseok, poor Hoseok, was hosting. You’d asked and he’d accepted like the selfless man he is and also because he loves Jungkook like a mother loves her child. It wasn’t his uni place, but his parent's beach house on the part of the coast where the beach stretched 20 yards deep and the water felt like the arctic on your skin, but even so, the parties out there were sick.

You can just tell by the boyish grin on your boyfriends face he knows exactly the way this route takes you, the taxi driver, however, keeps giving you evils through the mirror probably because this journey is long and you’re not even on a real road at this point. But the vodka already in your system means you don’t care and you hold Jungkook’s hand in full-fledged excitement.

You swear you’re not corny.

He keeps his hand in yours even when you pay the driver, and tightens it further when everyone around the back of the cabin rings out in a chorus of ‘surprise’. He even holds your hand when he’s handed both a beer and a joint, somehow juggling them both in his free one.

Somewhere along the line between sharing conversations and drinking yourself silly, he whispers a ‘thank you’ in your ear, and presses a grateful kiss onto your lips.

The sun had been low for a while, with the expanded horizon offering the perfect view to watch it set.

Still not corny, you promise.

But the smoke flowing through your system and the light hum of alcohol to accompany it just doesn’t allow for you to leave his side. Even through conversation after conversation, ‘happy birthday’ handshakes that made him switch which hand he was holding you with just so he didn’t let go, and even when the boys attempted a birthday bumps, you were there, glued tight.

“Fuck it, I wanna skinny dip!” Oh Jimin, oh that poor poor boy and his utterly delusional brain.

“Mate, that’s the high talking, leave it out.” You’re glad your boyfriend speaks sense when intoxicated because Tae’s there behind him clapping his back, encouraging him.

“Jim, legit 5 degrees right now, your dick’ll fall off if you go anywhere close to the sea.” And Namjoon, also ever with the straight head. Ah, you say that, but when you turn to the geez he chucks the small end of a lit blunt in his mouth and then swallows it down with beer - I guess his head will be going sideways now, in T-minus 5 seconds.

“You guys are pussys, my dick’ll just shrivel a bit…”

“Fucking rancid, don’t wanna hear it.” Throwing your half empty beer can also seems to do the trick of shutting him up about his dick as he hangs his jaw that’s dripping with beer, warm from being half finished.

“Bitch.”

“Oi! None of that, Park.” Jungkook’s tone is serious but he’s smiling all the same, content in the setting he’s in, not despite of but because of the deluded conversation, the weird dynamic you guys all have, the way he’s just himself, and the fact you’re there too, with a vice grip on his hand.

It’s all breathy laughs and the occasional pressing of lips on your neck from where you’re sat on your boyfriend’s lap, as the conversation delves from somewhere between Jimin’s sex life (surprise surprise) to what Hoseok would look like on steroids - the mutual group decision, so, so, wrong.

“Baby, I wanna get going.”

“Hm?” You were caught in laughter and didn’t think you heard him right, so you turn in his lap to throw an arm around his shoulder, all eyes and ears for your man.

“I kind of wanna get going home.”

You’re surprised, looking through the glaze in his eyes to see if he’s too stoned or not having a good time, but you just see him content gaze, boring adoration into yours. Leaving now would also make you the first to leave, and it was his party.

“You wanna go like right now, right now?”

“Mmm,” and there’s something you can't pinpoint in his expression, apprehension maybe.

“Okay, should I be worried? You’re good right?”

And his head drops to make you think ‘shit’, but then he’s laughing, shoulders shaking under your tense arms before he grabs at your face and places a kiss on either cheek. The blush creeps up on you before you can hide your face in his shoulder.

“I’m fine, so good.” It’s almost a shout of a confession as he throws his head back to demonstrate the emotion behind the words, but the way his smile lifts to his eyes tells you all you need to know. You’re still not quite getting why the happy boy you’re perching on wants to ditch his own surprise party, but each to their own, you think.

“Okay? You’re sure you don’t want to stay?”

Affirming you’re correct with a head shake, he leans in once again, squeezing at your sides ungraciously tight before smashing his lips to yours in a rough, open mouthed kiss that is neither something you were ready for or something you’re about to do with Jimin and Namjoon next to you.

So, you’re both laughing, him attempting to plaster his lips to your face and you swatting as his arm that fixes you in place to him.

“Kook fu- baby,” you begin to scramble away and he lets you, laughing out at the way you flatten your hair and fumble at you jeans as a means to compose yourself, “Time and a place, you dick.”

Stares and smiles are all you give each other as the ambient sounds of others continue around you. It’s like that with him - the world keeps buzzing around you but you’re not in that world, you’re somewhere too deep in his.

Please believe me, you’re not cringy!

“Come back,” hand out, legs spread wide to make room for you and you cannot help the way your feet appease his every word.

You’re eyes down on him, and his up at you, blown full with love, lust and everything in between and you settle in the warmth of his proximity and in the heat of his gaze.

“I love you.”

So you kiss him, because, “I love you too Kook.”

“Now order that fucking taxi, I wanted to go all of two hours ago.” And there he is, earning himself another smack to the arm.

“You bastard, you’re lucky I’m whipped.”

“Yeh you fucking are Y/N!” Jimin can suck a dick, the wanker. Throwing a final middle finger up to the offending boy and holding the other hand out for your boyfriend, you get onto the route home.

Silence is not always a bad thing. You’d told yourself that the whole way home. You especially knew how car journeys when inconceivably high and drunk could make the head spin and the voice mute, but neither of you were inconceivably high or drunk. His hand was still there on yours from beach to taxi, taxi to apartment, apartment to bedroom, but the smile was gone.

“Baby, what’s wrong, talk to me.”

“Mmm?” Playing it off, yet he still won’t look at you - the boy never could do confrontation or telling you what he wants.

He’s across the room, carrying the tea he’d made you to your side of the bed when you told him you’d felt a headache coming on. And you’re there just watching, the moping, the shrug and the way he now stops as you reach out your hand to tug at his shirt.

“Oi, look at me.” Eventually, and what looks like with effort, he does. “You gonna talk to me now, or what?” And you begin to worry at the way his gaze digs into your face, eyes pouring emotion that is scattered in so many different directions you can’t keep up. Is he sad? Nervous? Why would he be nervous?

“I love you.” There’s more to be said just in the way those three words come out, and it scares you.

“Okayy…”

“Like I really love you. So much sometimes I don’t know what I’m doing with you.”

“Koo-” He grabs at your neck and finally takes control of his voice, no longer apprehensive and filled with mixed signals, but so affirmative that it takes every word from your mouth.

“You’ve waited for me Y/N. So fucking long. I’ve been shit to you as well recently. I just can’t fathom that you’re here and you’re mine and it fucking scares me, you have to get that.” Eyes well on both his and your side, as words unspoken, are finally spilt. Maybe it’s the occasion or the alcohol but you don’t care. “Everything about you is everything I ever want and what happens if I fuck it up and lose it. I can’t lose you.”

“I can’t lose you.” It’s a mantra spoken by him on so many occasions, like if he says it, it’ll never happen.

“And what if I feel the same, Kook.” Forehead to forehead now and so deep into the caverns of his eyes, you’d give him your whole soul if he asked.

“You do?.. Feel the same?” You’re sure he knows you do. You’re sure he hasn’t been deaf to the thousands of ‘I love you’s’ and wholehearted confessions made by you. But he’s fragile to the extent that he needs to hear it. Needs to hear you say that you’re willing to lose everything here.

In a passing breath you whisper your confession, “yes,” and he squeezes at the hairs at the back of your neck that stand on end with every goosebump in your body.

The tears fall just as he puts his lips to yours and oxygen becomes gold dust with the way you’re so breath taken. But it’s the happy kind of breath taken, that feeling right before christmas as a kid when you know everything’s waiting for you on the other side of sleep, that feeling where the sinking dries up in your stomach and every fibre of you body buzzes uncontrollably, the kind of breath taken where you smile and laugh in full-fledged giddiness.

Pulling away, you do just that, laugh against his mouth, smile without thought, and despite the tears that drip onto your lips you keep kissing at him, peck after peck because he’s laughing and crying with you.

Fuck, this was the moment you were converted to cringe. You didn’t give two shits about it either.

“I thought you were about to fucking break up with me, you absolute knob!” He thumb scoops up the tears as he laughs at you, sniffling to himself in the emotion of the moment that you two were still somewhere swept up in.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Maybe.”

Before the last tear is swept away at the motion of his thumb on your cheek, Kook ducks down and sweeps you up, over his shoulder and then with a not so forgiving thump to your back, you hit the bed - looks like he forgot his bed was made of fucking rocks, great for sex though, no squeak. And suddenly it dawns on you as hard as you just hit that mattress. That look in his eyes, now, earlier at the beach, the entire strung out fucking monologue he just gave you. All in the name of sex.

“Can we- you want to- do it.”

Fuck, it’s actually happening.

You suppress the butterflies with a laugh that surfaces from the way he stutters.

“Well, what the fuck dyou want me to say. We’ve waited 5 months and you want me to just say, ‘oi Y/N, let me fuck you’.”

But the laughing doesn’t seize.

“I’m sure fucking not saying I want to make love to you, because imagine that gettin relayed to the boys. Instantly my dick goes from a 7 on hard to a 5.”

“Aw babe, give yourself credit, you’re at least a 5 and a half.”

“Bitch.”

And with that he presses his full weight into you, smiling into the kiss that sucks deep into your lips, harsh but tender in all the right places. It turns you on the way he goes slow with you, maps outlines on your skin with his touches, and it makes you even hornier when his boner slowly grows into the meat of your thigh.

It’s a moan in response to him biting your lip that has him off you and flipping the position so you straddle him. But tight jeans don’t accommodate for being on top, the fucking inconvenient bitch, so it’s with the slow teasing pace, that he seems to be going for, that you take as the jeans come off.

“Fuck,” is whispered somewhere between you purchasing yourself right on his crotch and the way you raise you crop top over naked breasts.

This is not uncharted territory. The two of you aren’t nuns who have abstained from everything and anything in your relationship. No, you’re far from holy. But the way your boyfriend gapes, eyes blown and breathing sharp, he’s like a virgin on steroids.

When you lean into his body, claiming his lips once again you notice the shaking, the way his body uncontrollable shivers underneath you despite the perspiration that soaks through his shirt.

“Baby, you’re shaking,” you whisper into his mouth, and he simply nods a frantic ‘yes’ against you. “Kook, calm down, relax, baby,” and after grasping gently at his chin to pry his lips off yours, you find his gaze, eyes blown in lust and fear.

“Okay? I’m all yours,” you take his hand and lead it to your breast, then ushering it towards the steady beat of your heart, felt beneath trembling fingertips. “All yours.”

Running your hands over the tension in his biceps, you attempt to put him at ease with the roll of your hips. His bulge hadn’t gone unnoticed for a second and it was perfectly place with the tip resting on your clit, that you could probably both go to town like that - who said romance was dead!

“Fuck Y/N.”

“There you go,” you push him on, sucking into the rift between his neck and his shoulders and strong arms now scoop over and round to your ass. The squeeze is convincing, hard enough that you don’t fight back the moan and hard enough that your hips move that little bit harsher.

Breaths are heavy in your ear as you find yourself slipping deeper into the pleasure of the moment, but you know he’ll never take the initiative and make the first move.

“You’re so hard Kook.”

A groan in all he responds as you hit that spot just on his tip that he loves so much.

“I want you so bad.”

“Fuck, me too,” and desperation for more than the slow grind you opted for overcomes him. Lips latch onto yours in a harsh display as he flips you once again.

You can’t help but smirk to yourself, pure filthy excitement taking over the fibres of your body as he stares down at you now, hungry and horny.

“Fuck, I’ve wanted this so bad for so long Y/N you have no idea.”

“Off,” and he gets the message with how his shirt is off and somewhere across the room without his dick leaving its place nestled in your crotch.

“I’ve been dying to have you, all of you.” His teeth are clawing at the skin of your neck as he pants out his dirty confession to the rhythm of his hips.

“You’ve been dying to fuck me, Kook?” It’s a teasing tone, but there’s no hiding the breathiness behind your voice.

“Fuck yeh.”

“Then go ahead and fuck me.”

When his gaze meets yours, his eyes are wide and disbelieving. But you’re more focused on the stain of his lips from sunken teeth and the way his hair sticks to his face from sweat. You also haven’t failed to miss the bare, toned torso pressed neatly onto your chest - abs to die for and v lines that leave the eyes wandering an unholy amount of southward.

“You want me to go in raw?” You feign laughter at how giddy he looks at the prospect.

“Birth controls a saint innit.”

“Fuck, I’m scared I’ll come in two seconds.” Great turn on. You think, you don’t say.

His trousers are off fast but when it comes to your panties, he’s calculated in the way he lowers himself to eyes level with your core, breathing haphazardly in his lust induced state into the material that he proceeds to run down the length of your leg and off at your feet.

Eyes trail up your body as he crawls his way back to your now exposed core, “Jesus, you’re so sexy.”

“Jungkook! What would God say if he heard you talk about his son that way!”

His head literally drops and he groans, as if the turn off button hadn’t already been switched when he told you he’d blow his load as soon as dick met pussy.

“I literally have no words Y/N.”

“Well, you better put that mouth to better use then baby.”

“Bitch.”

But his tongue is darted out and into your folds, no matter the reluctance, and he soon finds that same taste, bitter and sweet all at once that draws him in every fucking time.

“Fuck Kook.” The reaction is instant, spine arched away from the mattress as his tongue sets to work inside you, darting in and out so fast that your hips couldn’t keep up if they tried. It’s when he flattens it against your clit and the hand once pinning down a thigh pushes two fingers in so fucking deep that the moans spill.

“Shit that’s tight,” he mutters to himself more than anyone as his delving fingers reach that spot that has you stringing his name and curses into an aimless sentence. And the scene below you is even hotter than the feeling at your core, Jungkook, nestled between your legs with lips to clit, hand to pussy, and hips rutting desperately into the mattress. He’s a whole fucking view and it has you keening with your hands rooted in his hair that are telling him wordlessly not to let up.

When his eyes meet yours, you knows its game over, smirk overtaking his features as his fingers piston and fuck you open, thumb taking over the role his lips had on your clit just so he gets to watch you fall apart under him.

“That’s it baby, cum for me.”

“Holy fuc- shitt. Jungkook.” And your moans are the hottest things he’s ever heard as you tumble into a hell of a fucking orgasm. Shocks ripple through your body with the rate of his fingers and everything pulses as you cum, and keep fucking cumming.

Kook can barely help the way his cock seeks better friction against the mattress because of the bliss written on your face. And he almost forgets to let up on the frantic way his fingers still fuck you because your glistening chest lifting up and down in the light has his focus completely elsewhere.

“Kook, I can’t.”

“Sorry baby,” he lets up with one final kiss to your clit, the jolt of pain and pleasure causing you to whine briefly. His cock twitches at the sound.

“Y/N I’m so hard, please.”

You drag him up with the hand still woven deep in his locks so he’s eye level, and dick level with the place he wants it most. Wordlessly and still driven by the buzz from your orgasm, your hand guides him into you and fuck if the moan against your mouth isn’t the best thing you’ve ever heard.

“Holy fuck.” Nestling his head into the crook of your neck with deep breaths to accompany it, you can tell he’s trying to hold back the feeling of his balls tightening and ignore the way you still pulse from your orgasm. It’s tight and it’s so fucking bare because he’s never gone raw before. Fuck, neither of you have had sex in six months so the feeling might just make you both combust on the spot.

“Slowly baby, it’s been a while.” You’d known he’d reach your stomach just from the way he fucked your throat every other day - his girth is nothing far from impressive and it’s stretching you without even moving.

Light kisses press their way from neck to jaw to mouth as he pulls out to the hilt and then back in, slowly, tantalising slowly so that you both moan into the other's mouths, breathy and completely consumed by the feeling of each other.

“Fuck I’m never gonna get enough of this now.”

“Mmm,” you really hoped he wouldn’t.

“God I love you so much, your pussy is actual heaven.” And you hate to say the way the praise goes straight to your core, but your boyfriend can most certainly tell from the clench you hold his dick in. “Fuckkk, so good.”

It’s slow and it’s deep and he’s hitting your g-spot and clit with every roll of his hips. Throughout the murmurs of affection and sex filled admissions, you grasp at each other's skin, his hands pulling your hair so your mouth meets his and your hands across the muscles in his back that flex under your fingers with each thrust.

It’s when he drags one hand to your throat and grips at it to balance his sped-up movements that you’re finding yourself teetering towards the edge again, spilling words never spoken and sounds never heard but he’s saving every one of them to memory.

“Faster baby please,” and he obliges instantly as he dives into you hard and fast, “babyy oh shit.”

“Y/N you’re clenching so fucking hard right now,” but he’s left you breathless to the point of no reply.

Several punishing slams that also attack your clit have eyes rolling and you biting down into his shoulder, suppressing the scream that surfaced without your consent.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He keeps pounding away, forcing you deeper and deeper into a spiral of pleasure, until his lips are on yours and he ruts a final few times, grunting and moaning into your mouth. “So good, so good,” and he repeats this until he’s still above you and finally the hand wound into your neck lessens it’s pressure so the throb in your body and up to your head dies into a tingle.

It’s the most content and blissful silence, post orgasm, wrapped in the warm and wet body of your boyfriend. That is until he begins mumbling inconceivable words into the shoulder he decided to rest on.

“What baby?”

“I said,” lifting himself to eye level, and he’s a fucking sight for sore eyes. “Worth the fucking wait.”

And with a tired, fucked out smile, light kiss to his lips, you can most certainly agree.

Worth the fucking wait.

#jeon jungkook #jungkook #BTS jungkook #bts #bts smut #bts one shot #jungkook one shot #jungkook smut #BTS au #jeon jungguk #jungkook drabble #bts jeongkook #jungkook things

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one-boring-person · 4 years ago

Note

Alrighty! I know I’m late but to make up I’m going to send a B U N C H of requests! You don’t have to do all of em but I think they’re going to be fun!

Ok first off how bout a Dutch x Reader where they got separated in the jungle and meet up in the chopper, but Dutch was sure she died and it’s a nice little reunion!

I cannot wait to write all of these! I'm so excited!😅 I think I may have gone a bit overboard with this first one, but the idea has been going round my head ever since I read the request, so I hope you like it!

We're Alive!

Alan "Dutch" Schaefer x reader (Platonic)

Warnings: death, spoilers, injury, blood, gun use

Masterlist

"(Y/N)! GO!" Dutch bellows at me as he scrambles to get up again, his arm bleeding profusely from his newly acquired wound, the major's voice laced with pain and urgency.

"No!" I snap back, taking up my gun and firing off into the trees, aiming for the origin of the blast from before, going in a wild arc as the automatic pelts the surroundings with a volley of bullets.

"(Y/n), get to the chopper, now!" He tries again, climbing to his feet, his own gun clenched in hand as he backs himself with me, the two of us staring out at the area.

"N-" I go to respond, only to be cut off by another flash of energy coming between us, the heat of it burning away the skin and fabric covering my leg, a surprised cry of agony escaping me as I instinctively buckle under the intensity.

Dutch is quick to grab me, forcing me to duck down slightly as we take off into the underbrush, the veteran pulling me along with speed. Vines and branches whip past my face, welts appearing on my grimy skin as I do my best to hobble after the broad-shouldered man ahead of me, his physical size easily parting the jungle for him. Behind us, I can hear the pounding footsteps and eerie clicking of whatever the hell is chasing us, my pulse pounding in my ears as my panic fuels my adrenaline, allowing me to ignore the searing pain in my leg. Each breath is harsh and fast, my legs pumping quickly to cover as much ground as possible.

All of a sudden, Dutch's foot goes out from under him, his massive body falling into the sharp slope to the side of us. A shout of panic tears itself from his throat as he tumbles out of sight, leaving me alone on our original trail, our ruthless pursuer hot on my heels.

"DUTCH!" I scream after him, briefly considering going after him, unsure of how well I'll fare without him.

A low growl behind me makes the decision for me, my instincts kicking in as I ignore my heart and push on, limping on into the dense jungle, eyes widening as I realise exactly how close the killer is. My heart jumps in my chest as I suddenly feel the quick brush of air as it swipes at me, blades just catching the back of my neck before I've gotten out of the way, my legs carrying me faster as fear takes over. Completely oblivious to any pain now, I thunder through the undergrowth, slapping wildly at vines, leaping over fallen branches and logs, heartbeat racing faster and faster with each step. There's a taste of iron on my tongue, blood from a bitten lip dripping down my face now, coating my chin in a thin layer of the stuff.

And then my feet are no longer touching the ground.

Crying out in surprise, I throw my hands out in front of me to catch myself, my palms smacking harshly into hard rock as I smash into the boulder below me. Pain explodes in my chest as it collides with the solid surface, winding me even as my knees crack loudly as they bounce off of it.

For a moment, I lie still, trying to regain my breath, before I roll onto my back, staring up at the slight cliff I fell off, expecting to be met with the sight of three red dots on my chest. Surprisingly, I see nothing, the forest around me mostly silent, except for the rushing of water, which I quickly deduce is from the river nearby. Groaning, I let myself relax, closing my eyes as I finally register the full extent of the pain coursing through my body, my newly bruised torso not helping at all with the stinging from my leg, blood now pouring down the limb in great streams, staining my skin crimson.

Steeling myself, I push myself upright and take in my surroundings, glad to find myself at the river where there are many boulders I can use as cover, the ground much easier to move over here, meaning I can make a quick getaway if I need to. Somewhat relieved, I force myself to get up and go to the river, knowing I need to clean my wounds or they'll get infected, not that it makes much difference: I'll probably be dead by the end of the day.

I shake these thoughts from my head, focusing on getting to the river as I limp over the uneven surface, coming to kneel beside it with a wince. Swiftly, I peel back my frayed trouser leg and manoeuvre myself so that the appendage lies in the water, the cool sensation bringing tears to my eyes from the harsh sting. It is somewhat soothing, but mostly painful, the blood washing away quickly, only to be replaced by more as the open wound continues to bleed, the inflicted area being large, not deep thankfully. Biting my lip, I run a hand over it, cleaning it slightly before finally pulling it out, swiftly tearing off my sleeve and wrapping it around my leg as a makeshift bandage.

Having done so, I hobble back to one of the boulders, sitting at its base as I think over my options.

My first instinct is to find Dutch, wherever he may be, but the cynical part of my brain tells me there's no real point. If the killer stopped chasing me, it's because it thought Dutch was the better prey, and if the fall didn't kill him, he'll be too beaten up from it to really be able to do anything against the creature hunting him. Then again, Dutch is a tough one to subdue, let alone kill, so he may well be alive and kicking, but I have no way of telling whether this is the case.

Hopelessness floods me as I think through this, my head dropping to my chest, completely unsure of what the best course of action is. Naturally, I'd go find the pick-up point, but again, I have no idea where I am, and so would struggle greatly to find the allocated place, meaning I'm totally stranded here, alone with a killer stalking around. Lifting my head, I check over my body to see which weapons I still have, glad to find my knife still attached to my hip, though I curse colourfully when I realize I dropped my gun in my haste to escape the predator at my heels, leaving me defenceless, unless it comes into close-quarters, which I would rather it didn't. Chewing my lip, I toy with my knife a bit, before deciding to try and locate the pick-up point, think over the possibility of retracing my steps. I would've left a trail through the jungle from my panic, so it shouldn't be too hard to follow it back to where Poncho was killed.

At the reminder of this, my heart twists painfully, my chest tightening from the realisation that all of my closest friends, possibly bar one, are dead at the hands of this otherworldly killer, all because of some mission Dillon managed to get us mixed up in. When Dutch had first told us about it, I'd been sceptical, not quite believing that our team was needed for it, rather than another military branch, but I'd gone along with it in the end after a particularly snide comment from Dillon himself, finding myself with the need to prove him wrong. A bitter chuckle escapes my lips at the thought, reflecting on where his antics eventually got us, and him, though I scold myself for being unfair; it's not his fault there's a predator trying to kill us.

Climbing to my feet, I push aside the idle thoughts, ignoring the pang in my heart at my own callousness, limping stiffly back to the small cliff I fell off, glancing up at it to determine how I should get back up. Deeming it appropriate, I slide the knife back into its sheath and find myself a hand hold on the hard rock, beginning the tough climb up. Agony shoots through my battered body, but I simply grit my teeth and push past it, forcing my body to haul itself higher and higher, fingers scrabbling at the tough stone, leaving them raw and grazed, the skin chafing away with each movement. My muscles scream at me in protest, grimaces contorting my face with each pull, relief flooding me as I reach the top of the cliff. Dragging myself up onto it, I hastily scramble to my feet and observe my surroundings, wary of what might be hiding in the trees, my body tense and ready for action.

By now, darkness has fallen on the jungle, a bright moon shining down onto me from above, lighting up the trees before me slightly, casting them in a ghostly light. The dreary appearance puts me on edge, knowing that the new shadows provide all sorts of effective cover for any predator, especially the cruel one hunting me down. Breathing deeply, I start off into the dense shrubbery.

The going is slow, my leg now hurting me badly as I drag my body through the jungle, doing my best to head in what I think is a familiar direction. My eyes have long since adjusted to the darkness, allowing me to see in minimal clarity where I'm going, making the navigation somewhat faster than it could be, though I'm still painfully aware of how disadvantaged I am in this current state. Every sound and noise around me makes me freeze in place, terror stiffening my joints every few seconds, my hand reaching for my knife with each rustle of the leaves. Mentally, I know that if the creature was anywhere nearby, it would've killed me by now, but the weapon at my hip gives me some reassurance in any case.

Something heavy drops from the canopy to land in front of me, branches snapping under the weight, the sudden sound drawing a gasp of fear from me. Stopping still, I stare at the misshapen form on the floor, already dreading going closer, though my curiosity gets the better of me. Unfortunately, I regret this decision as soon as I look over what I now know to be a body.

Before I can stop it, a cry of horror tears itself from my throat, the outburst horribly loud to me as I fight the urge to hurl, quickly looking away from the mangled body at my feet.

And then I hear it.

Clicking.

Whirling on my heels, I draw my knife and look around me, adrenaline pumping through me, my hand shaking uncontrollably as my wide eyes take in the surroundings.

The clicking continues, seemingly all around me.

Terrified, I jerk my head around, unsure of where it might be, breathing ragged now as I struggle to focus.

Suddenly, the knife goes flying from my grip, my wrist snapping painfully as it is twisted back against my arm, a surprised scream of pain leaving my parted lips as I can only watch the limb become disfigured, the invisible blow dealt to it having a lot more force than I expected. Taking a step back, I feel my heart pound in my chest, still unable to see where my attacker is, as well as who it might be.

Agony explodes around my jaw as a camouflaged fist connects with it, blood filling my mouth from the strength of the punch, knocking me to the floor. Catching myself, I scramble in the dirt for my knife, ignoring the tears that have sprung to my eyes, spitting out mouthful of blood with each breath, my face aching badly. I don't get a chance to recover properly, before I've been thrown into a nearby tree, an invisible hand clamped tightly around my neck, holding me a good foot or two off the ground. Gasping, I grasp at whatever is holding me, feeling dark spots take over my vision, but not before I catch sight of what exactly is holding me captive.

Eyes widening, I bat at the metal mask, hoping to knock it off guard before it can choke me to death, but I can feel my throat beginning to constrict, air struggling to flow through it as it used to. My pulse races, body now aware of its dying state, my arms weakly slapping at the huge creature holding me, darkness flooding my vision. Dizzy and light-headed, I feel my conscience starting to leave me, allowing me to fall into the blackness I so desperately want to give in to.

Vaguely, I register the predator's head snap round, clearly distracted by something, before I finally succumb to the darkness.

A low beating sound draws me from the fog in my brain, my conscience coming back to me slowly. Blinking, I push myself upright, yelping in pain as my body aches and throbs, my neck feeling completely useless as the bruising agony there kicks in. Everything rushes back to me, confusion flooding my mind as I recall the predator choking me to death, explaining the pain in my neck, though it does not explain why I'm still alive.

Frowning, I glance upwards, realising that the beating sound I can hear is the steady whir of helicopter rotors, my heart soaring as I recognise that I may still have a chance of getting out of here alive. Ignoring the agony in my body, I throw myself to my feet and start limping as quickly as possible in the direction of the familiar sound, elated at the thought of getting out of here, though I feel my heart twist at the thought of it only being me. Hope gives me some speed, allowing me to charge relatively quickly through the undergrowth, all thoughts of the predator forgotten as the sound gets louder, the aircrafts now visible in the sky from where I am, though only in the distance.

A deafening explosion somewhere to my left jerks me from my feet, a shockwave from the blast easily throwing me to the ground. Covering my head with my hands, I instinctively keep myself small, knowing full well how to stay somewhat safe in the midst of an explosion, though I can feel my hope slowly draining away. What if the blast took out the chopper?

Minutes pass before I climb to my feet again, taking note of the thick smoke now shrouding the jungle, making it harder to see where I'm going. I decide to go towards the sound, knowing that the explosion will have drawn the pilot's attention, meaning it'll be much easier to see me if they fly over to explore it. As I thought, the beating of the rotors gets steadily louder as I delve deeper, glad to find that it is much more cacophonous here.

Bursting out from behind a tree, I feel my spirit soar as I see the smoke in this area being whipped up and away from the clearing, allowing me to see in a large radius around the lowering aircraft. With it, however, I notice that the rotors have revealed something else.

Immediately, my heart skips a beat.

Clumsily, I stumble forwards, tears coming to my eyes as I recognise the figure standing a little way away, the muscular man turning to me in surprise.

"(Y/n)?!" He exclaims, shock and relief lacing his accented voice as he sees me.

"Dutch!" I call back, running towards him even as he runs towards me, his arms outstretched towards me, the filthy major bloodied and beaten, but still alive.

Upon reaching each other, Dutch wraps me into a tight embrace, crushing me into his muscular body even as I bury myself into him, clutching at his waist, leaping into his arms. Picking me up, he presses his face into my hair, muttering things to me, voice breaking in emotion, his grip tight around me, knees buckling out from underneath him as it overwhelms him. Tears fall freely from my eyes, my face pressing into his bare chest, ignoring the blood and mud, relishing the feeling of his body against mine, my hands pulling him closer to me as he falls to the floor, my form still wrapped around his. One of his hands comes up to press me head into the crook of his neck, allowing me to inhale his familiar scent, the smell comforting me and reassuring me as I sob in joy. Reluctantly, he pulls his head back so he can look down at me, his grey eyes meeting mine, their surfaces wet with tears.

"I-i thought...I thought you died…" He stammers out, voice breaking with emotion, his cheeks stained with his tears, my heart throbbing for him as the usually stoic man holds me close to him.

"I'm here, Dutch, I'm here." I reassure him, before continuing, "I thought it got you, too…"

I have to fight through the choking emotion, but I manage to get it out, laughing in giddy relief as he pulls me back into him, crushing me into him, his arms locking me in place.

Dutch keeps his arms around me even as we climb into the chopper, the veteran pulling me so that I lie against his chest in my seat, his hand resting on my back as if to keep himself grounded. I stare up at him, unwilling to look out at the jungle even as he stares at it, face blank as the grief and exhaustion finally catches up to him. Anna sits across from us, the guerrilla girl thankfully still alive, glad to see us in a similar state.

"You have no idea how glad I am that you're still alive...I don't know what I would've done if…" Dutch murmurs to me, the man rambling a little as the emotions assault him, his grip tightening with every word.

"We're alive, Dutch, and I'm so, so happy we are." I respond, nuzzling into his chest, uncaring of the fact it is covered in a layer of mud.

Exhausted, the two of us drift off, sleep finally catching up to us as the trauma of the past few days sets in, our consciences unable to keep going after so long of simply running on survival instinct.

#predator imagine #predator 1987 #predator #Dutch Schaefer #Dutch Schaefer x reader #Dutch Schaefer imagine #arnold schwarzenegger

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saladejin · 4 years ago

Text

Beyond Breathless | Jungkook

(cr.) Jungkook x Reader | first aider in training!au, childcare worker!Jungkook | s2f2l (not quite there), fluff and crack, awkwardness & touching, confident/bold reader

Summary: One class is all it takes for Jungkook to finally realise that yes, maybe there is someone out there who can put up with his timorous tendencies. Now, if he pays attention, he might just learn how to breathe again.

Warnings: None, shy sub kookie (he’s a mess y’all), and suggestive themes if you really squint

Word Count: 2.9k

<< masterlist

A/N: Ok so this was part of my cuddle prompts game for August 2020, but it turned into a one-shot so I decided to post it accordingly. Also this is a really bizarre take on ‘cuddle’, but it’s there all the same. The prompt was 24.) between strangers.

Took me FOREVER to write and edit because so much was going on, with Dynamite dropping and all these streaming/chart records being broken etc. but anyway I’m just in time to say HAPPY BIRTHDAY JUNGKOOK & CONGRATS BTS FOR GETTING THE #1 ON BILLBOARD’S HOT 100 💜💜

@vinterjeon this is for you wifey

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Jungkook was trying his best to stop tripping over his own damn tongue, but the pretty receptionist kept on asking him questions. Wasn't it easy to tell he was already kind of shitting bricks over here?

"The class began five minutes ago Sir, you shouldn't have missed too much," she said finally, handing the fidgeting man his papers with a smile.

Okay, let me go in then?

Jungkook nibbled at his bottom lip in apprehension when the woman continued to type something on her computer, nails dragging loudly across the keys as if to torture him further for his tardiness.

"I've notified Mr. Lee. Have a great class, Sir."

At the receptionist's gesture towards the nearby glass door, Jungkook immediately jerked into action. He muttered out a small 'thanks' with a bow and tried to take a deep breath, hating the fact that he would now hog every scrap of attention for being late to the class. It wasn't his fault traffic was bad!

Try as he might, slipping into the room silently was impossible when the door itself creaked loud enough for the neighbouring buildings to hear. Jungkook stifled a wince and took in the scene before him with wide apologetic eyes.

"Jeon! Glad that you could join us." Mr. Lee grinned, the easy-going nature of the teacher easing Jungkook's nerves ever so slightly. With a shy bow, he entered the small room and could only count six other participants milling around the empty space.

The teacher clapped his hands together, causing a few of the other attendees to jump in their skin. "Alright, I think we can officially begin."

You shifted from foot to foot, eyeing the newcomer with interest. Jeon? Was that his last name? You had to admit he was quite handsome, but also you couldn't help feeling bad for the guy. He was clearly a blushing mess of humiliation for being late, even if it was only a mere five minutes. You couldn't see any of the other attendees being all that bothered, but as you all lined up in front of the stout teacher, you could almost feel the nerves radiating off the man's body from where he stood beside you.

"Welcome, everyone, to our First Aid Course specialising in providing emergency first aid responses in an education and care setting."

As Mr. Lee reeled off his spiel in that commanding tone of his, you gradually sensed the young man next to you beginning to relax.

Half an hour in, the class had gone over the process of CPR briefly - or as Lee would call it, cardiopulmonary resuscitation - and had even taken turns in performing the procedure on a nightmarish looking mannequin. Jungkook had no idea why some manufacturers decided to paint genuine human features on some of them, but in the end he supposed it added to the whole realistic element of the course.

"Hey there, you alright?" a sweet voice piped up from somewhere in front of him.

Jungkook's form went rigid as he darted his eyes away from where someone was being instructed, flooding with even more confused self-consciousness when he drank in the sight of you. You hadn't meant to intimidate him further, but the way he was so intently focused on the teacher and student currently practising CPR on the dummy had you worried.

"Me? Uh, sorry yeah I'm fine thank you," Jungkook stumbled out, a hand instinctively coming up to rub at his neck which was reddening the longer he maintained eye contact with you. He didn't know how he hadn't noticed you before, but then he remembered how he tended to lose the ability to concentrate in general whenever he was embarrassed or nervous.

You returned his shaky smile warmly. "You just seem a little tensed up. Are you scared of Mr. Lee or something?" Whispering out the last part, you revelled in the sight of his smile widening.

He let out a quiet laugh and shook his head. "No, I just really need to pass this course. Don't want to miss anything, you know?"

You nodded but had no time to respond.

"Okay!" Lee boomed, gaining everyone's attention instantly. "You've all shown your proficiency at this. Now we're moving on to the next part of the course. Since you're all going to be specialising with children and students once you're finished here, we need to thoroughly cover choking, airway obstructions and respiratory distress since they're quite frequent in childcare settings."

You caught Jeon nodding solemnly out of the corner of your eye, and wondered why he was taking this course in particular. Teacher maybe? He mentioned really needing to pass, so maybe he even worked with young kindergarteners or infants. Eyeing his well-built frame contained within a tight black t-shirt had your mind working a million miles a minute. It was oddly endearing to imagine this moderately tall, buff looking guy caring for kids with such gentle shy eyes, and such a soft-spoken voice.

"Pair up with each-other and I'll demonstrate the choking procedure on adults first of all," Mr. Lee instructed, his bright passionate eyes flashing with amusement as he crossed his arms and waited for his students to spur themselves into action.

Jungkook's eyes met with yours almost immediately, and he had to avert them again out of sheer bashfulness. He only tried to seek you out because he hadn't spoken to anyone else yet, and the way you were chuckling softly at his bout of eagerness had his lips quirking up into a shy smirk. Well, that was decided then.

"You, be my guinea pig for a bit."

It took Jungkook a moment to process that the teacher was beckoning him forward with a sturdy finger, but you were already on the ball and pressing a hand into his lower back before his mind could catch up. Hating the feeling of being watched by everyone else, he tried to ignore the way he shuddered at the combination of your subtle touch and the several pairs of eyes regarding him closely.

The teacher began his explanation, but Jungkook could only hear the rushing of blood past his ears at this point. Why him? Out of everyone here, Mr. Lee couldn't have chosen anyone else? Thinking back, he did remember that being late probably served to single himself out in the teacher's mind. He deserved to be picked on.

Suddenly, Lee's stocky hand was pressing itself into Jungkook's chest, and he only then thought to finally tune in with what the older man was saying.

"Then, bend the choking person over slightly. Preferably parallel to the ground, but as long as they're somewhat sturdy on their feet..."

Jungkook swallowed nervously as the teacher demonstrated by adding pressure to the space between his wide shoulder blades. As embarrassed as he was, it was relieving to see the rest of the students focused on the information rather than him. Some were even practising the manoeuvre already. His eyes instinctively flew to where you were standing on your own, and a sharp tingle travelled the length of his spine when he caught you appraising him with ... interest flashing in your eyes?

W-why?

You watched as the teacher proceeded to explain how to perform a back blow, though not putting his full strength into the heel of his hand in case he hurt his student. "Do this five times, and if the choking hazard isn't removed, we can move on to the Heimlich manoeuvre - otherwise known as abdominal thrusts."

Oho?

You couldn't even suppress the way your lips pursed in amusement, and some of the other attendees around you even exchanged knowing looks with one another, trying not to chuckle at the sight of Jeon's ears flashing a bright red colour in embarrassment. God, he'd never wanted to die so badly.

Luckily, Lee spared him the mortification by keeping his demonstration to limited physical contact. He gave instruction on how to stand behind the victim before wrapping your arms around their torso - to which he only created a circle with his arms around Jungkook - and making a fist shape with your hand, thrusting it upwards into the victim's stomach to hopefully dislodge the object from their airways.

Jungkook couldn't really form a coherent thought at the moment. He was too fixated on the way your eyes were watching the whole scene intently, and he felt so exposed but he also wasn't entirely hating it. Well, maybe only if he could forget there were other people in the room, that is.

His brain on autopilot, Jungkook barely registered his feet taking him back to his original position after the teacher had finished up his demonstration. You were facing him as soon as he got there, and he shoved away the tingles in his belly to cock his head in confusion.

"Well?" you spoke, open palms coming up to urge him into action, but he didn't know what for. He whipped his head around and scoured the room to see the other pairs re-enacting their own version of the choking procedure.

"You want me to...?" he trailed off, hands fumbling in the air awkwardly as he tried to pull the words seemingly from thin air. You hid your smile with the back if your hand, not wanting to embarrass him further by laughing in his cute little face. How someone so big and masculine looking could be so shy and sweet, you'd never know.

"Yeah. Literally just the same as what he did to you." You helped the struggling man with a reassuring nod, not missing the way he was still hesitant to make any kind of movement.

Jungkook wanted to kick himself. "Sorry, I don't think I remember exactly," he sighed out, waiting for you to roll your eyes and click your tongue in annoyance. Instead, you threw him right off guard by reaching out and gently turning him around on the spot by his broad shoulder.

"It's okay, I watched what he did."

Fuck, what?

The hairs on Jungkook's neck stood on end when he heard your footsteps drawing closer behind him against the linoleum flooring of the room, but when he tried to crane his neck around to see what you were doing, you simply chuckled and straightened his jaw forward with a firm dainty hand. His breath hitched when your fingers then lingered ... eventually trailing down to lightly press against the column of his throat.

"What are you doing?" He jerked away, heart thumping against his ribcage so hard he thought he'd faint right there. Your brows only furrowed together in shock.

"Checking your throat to see where the blockage is? It was literally the first step."

You saw the way his eyes fell almost instantly, the internal berating quite evidently written on his features. "Sorry, it's my fault for not paying attention before," he mumbled and bowed his head in apology.

"It's okay. Just turn around," you snorted, thoroughly entertained. He was seriously too adorable to match the way he looked, but you supposed judging books by their covers was an outdated practice in this day and age.

Following the steps, you performed the back blow after pressing down on his shoulders to lean him forwards slightly. His muscles felt so taught underneath your hand, and you really had to battle the urge to just forget the exercise and run your hands down the expanse of his clothed back. Something told you he wouldn't protest, either.

Jungkook didn't know how to feel. His wide doe eyes fixed themselves on your hand that was splayed out on his chest, only serving to steady yourself, and he couldn't help but let his mind wander. When the heel of your other hand came down in between his shoulder blades, he physically lurched. Not because of the force, there was no way you could match him in strength, but it shocked him enough in its suddenness that a tiny grunt fell from his lips.

"Excellent form, (Y/n)!" Mr. Lee spoke up from the other side of the room. Jungkook came back to his senses and straightened his position, briefly catching your beaming smile from the teacher's praise. He just hoped to dear God you hadn't heard his pitiful whimper at your touch.

At least I have a name now.

"Okay, are you doing the Heimlich or am I?" You then turned to him, and he swallowed thickly yet again. This one he did remember a little more vividly, but envisioning standing behind you and pressing his fist into your stomach made his hands tremble slightly. He couldn't do that! What if he hurt you?

"Um, you can." He cleared his throat and gestured to you in a manner he hoped came across as confident. You saw right through him anyway, but the man was still cute, so you let it slide. As much as you longed to tease him, you were still basically nothing more than a stranger right now. Even you knew when some lines shouldn't be crossed.

Your lips curved in amusement and you motioned for him to turn around. "Okay then, I'll try not to make it too painful."

"Don't worry, I can handle-" Jungkook's sudden show of cockiness vanished as soon as your arms wrapped around his small waist. Were you ... pressing yourself to his back? He couldn't remember the teacher going that far, but here you were with a friendly smile and mischievous eyes, shaping your body to his in a way that had his breathing pattern suddenly sharp and shallow.

"Bend over a little," you directed, trying not to laugh at how you could see the tips of his ears burning a bright crimson underneath the black tresses of hair brushing just above them.

Jungkook almost shuddered at the sensation, but fought the urge in order to comply with what you were asking. It wasn't long before you were surprising him yet again by bringing your hands together into the Heimlich fist and flat palm formation, arms comfortably settled around him and fingers brushing just above his navel as you prepared to squeeze.

Amidst his inner panic, you were enjoying this immensely. It wasn't an everyday occurrence to be able to plaster yourself to someone so attractive, and so downright eager to please. You knew it was meant to be strictly professional for educational purposes and such, but the way this guy was responding to you was undeniably exciting. You'd tiptoed the line that shouldn't be crossed carefully, and he only seemed to be liking it more and more.

Considering the way his palms were sweating profusely at the close contact, he knew he was a goner.

With a quick word of warning, you performed the abdominal thrust as gently as you could while still making sure it was firm enough to lift him slightly off his feet. The sudden show of strength stunned him, but he wasn't about to let it show. He'd already made a fool of himself one too many times today as it stood.

"Easy enough." You chuckled, letting the man go quickly so he could regain control of his senses somewhat. He leaned away, but to your surprise didn't move to exit your personal bubble. In all honesty, he had no desire to part from you at all.

You inwardly cursed at yourself for flushing at the thought and raised your hands in invitation. "Did you want to try on me?"

"Ah, no it's alright. I think I have it all now." He flashed a small smile, tapping one index finger to his temple in emphasis. His reluctance confused you, but judging from his largely bashful demeanour, he most likely never planned to make any moves to touch you in the first place. It was forward of you to take the lead, but you'd be lying if you said it wasn't in your nature.

There's always next time anyway...

"That's a wrap for this week's class!" Lee's bellowing voice snapped you both out of your thoughts, and you had to blink away the embarrassment from all the shameless staring.

"Hey what's your name by the way, I don't think I caught it before." You tried to save grace with a polite, yet awkward handshake. Jungkook only felt his heart grow warmer at the thoughtful gesture.

"It's Jungkook. Sorry I should've said sooner, before you had to punch the shit out of my back."

That tore a laugh from you, and soon enough all the tension in the air had melted away. "It wasn't that hard, c'mon."

His smile, which you now adored after catching a glimpse of his bunny-like teeth, had quickly become one of your favourite things to look at. "I swear you were this close to beating me up," he joked, feeling more alive than ever.

Jungkook collected his bag from beside the door and filed out into the administration area alongside everyone else. He took a moment to eye the receptionist from earlier, wondering what might have happened if she'd told him he was unable to attend the class after all. Watching you walk away from him with a tiny wave of farewell had him resolutely believing it was fate that brought him here.

He just couldn't wait for next week.

#jungkook x reader #btsghostie #thehouseofbangtan #jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook crack #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagines #s2l au #jungkook one shot #sub jungkook #shy jungkook #requests #salade-tb

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weasleydream · 4 years ago

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dreams are my reality - part 3

it’s finally here! This part is what happened during that fateful night and only that. Also i messed with the timeline but nothing too bad.

This may be a bit violent, mention of death and blood.

As usual, feel free to like, comment, reblog and enjoy!

Masterlist

~ i’ll see how the real thing can be and it’s not pretty ~

The muggle village - August 1983

“I’m not saying that you shouldn’t have left us, just that a good friend wouldn’t have cleared out just because McGonagall was walking in the same corridor.”

“Sirius, would you shut up?” I hissed, ready to break his neck if he added one word that wasn’t a yes.

“Of course I’ll shut up, as soon as you admit that quitting on us was a bad thing to do.”

I didn’t need to look at him to know he was smiling goofily, seemingly unaware of the fact that we were walking in an empty alley just because we were looking for a dangerous death eater.

“First of all, you could have run away too if your arse wasn’t glued to the floor. And McGonagall wasn’t just walking in the same corridor, she was coming for us! And Sirius, we were in first year and James and you had dragged me there against my will. Remember?”

And it was true; the memory of Sirius claiming I would be the coolest girl of the school was still fresh in my mind, and with the terror brought by the sound of McGonagall’s steps, I knew it would stay engraved in my brain for a very long time.

“Dragged you?” Sirius made a clicking noise with his tongue. “I’m not even sure one of us grabbed your hand.”

“Oh, not only my hand you idiot, my bag and my wand too!”

“And? You’re clearly not traumatized so-”

Sirius’ voice had died in his throat as soon as the explosion had echoed, yet my blood froze in my veins at the thought that maybe he had gotten us spotted. With the discretion of a cat with soft paws, he crossed the short distance that was separating us and placed himself ahead of me. A glance in my direction - Are you ready? - and a firm nod later, we were running silently toward the place of the village, hoping with all our heart that no one was hurt.

Obviously, the death eater had already left the crime scene. Sirius and I were the last of our group to get there. Remus and James were turning all around the place like caged lions, probably looking for any clue of where the responsible had disappeared. Lily and Peter were struggling in front of the burning church, trying to get the fire to stop and to get the survivors out of this hell. A woman ran into me and my arms wrapped instinctively around her; hers were trembling and her covered in soot hands were slipping on my skin. She was mumbling incoherent sentences in which I didn’t understand anything, and I was sure she was speaking another language. However, her frantic gestures toward the fire lighted something in me, an urge to get in the furnace without even knowing why. I looked up a second to see Lily fussing over a wounded man and Sirius and Peter still trying to control the fire. No one could help me with the poor woman.

She cried out something, a word I didn’t understand.

“Nena! Nena!”

“I don’t know what it means!” I screamed, cursing myself for not being able to understand a single word.

She pointed the finger at her belly, at her heart and finally at the fire. Slowly - way too slowly - I understood what it meant. A baby was in there. I nodded frantically and the woman fell on her knees. I didn’t have the time to check on her; instead, I went to Sirius and tried to get him to help me. He was totally freaking out, and his panic only increased when he realized what I was telling him.

“With me!” he yelled, and we joined forces to try and extinguish the fire once and for all.

Finally, the last flames died, the last proof of its presence being the ashes flying in the air. The woman rushed between the smoldering ruins and I was ready to follow her, but Sirius grabbed my wrist. A split second later, a terrible cry echoed, and Sirius shook his head.

At the very same moment, something exploded a few streets away.

“James!”

It was Lily, and she lost no time in running toward the root cause of the noise. We followed her and found a half fallen house in front of James and Remus, the both of them looking infuriated.

“The bastard!”

Through gritted teeth, Remus told us how they were sure someone had led them there before making the batiment explode and James added the death eater - because it was obviously him - had been careful to stay well hidden.

“So that means we’re running blindly behind him?” asked Peter, his voice still hoarse from the smoke of the fire.

“Running blindly and doing whatever he wants us to.” I added darkly.

Even James and Sirius knew it had been a bad idea to accept this mission, now. Both of them had their eyes wild and were glancing frequently at each other.

“So? What do we do now that he’s disappeared and we don’t know where to look?” muttered Lily before hiding her face in James’ neck, probably having a bout of nausea after everything we had already gone through. To be honest, I was still feeling sick thinking about that poor woman and her baby.

I was observing a stone on the ground and wishing it could tell us what we needed to know when Peter stiffened.

“Guys,” he whispered. “Act natural, but I think we didn’t have all the information.”

“What makes you think that?”

If Remus was sarcastic and obviously didn’t understand where Peter was going with this, something caught my eyes and the realization hit me.

“An animagus?” I questioned quietly, and Peter nodded.

I almost missed the black feathers, but I still caught the bird flying from a rooftop to another. Then the bird dropped to the floor, and it happened so fast that none of us had sketched a movement when it turned into a massive black silhouette half hidden in the shadows.

“You could have gotten out of here alive if you had just ignored me.” The voice was raspy, the tone aggressive. “Too bad you didn’t.”

This last affirmation sounded like a signal; as soon as the sound of his voice had died, the death eater drew his wand and we did the same, Sirius and Remus taking a step forward. I hadn’t seen his face, yet I was picturing myself the man with a crooked rictus and with the eyes so dark that you knew just by looking at him that his soul was rotten to the core. For some unknown reason, he didn’t attack; instead, I was feeling the weight of his eyes on us. I could imagine him looking at Sirius and Remus first because they were just in front of him, measuring the trembling of their arms - not caused by fear but by fury, which he probably was aware of; then his eyes passing from them to James and Lily, just close enough for him to guess the nature of their relationship, to Peter with his wand as high as ours and finally to me. Did he know I was looking intensely in his direction? That we were all looking right at him, our muscles tensed to make sure we would react quickly enough when the attack would come?

If he did, he didn’t care the least. It was with something that could be qualified as nonchalance that he muttered the first spell. The green light illuminated for a second his face, and his eyes were fixed on us. The curse almost hit James, and that’s when the riposte began.

The first counterattack spell came from Remus and missed the death eater by a hair. At the same time, Sirius rushed to the enemy, followed closely by James. Lily helped Remus to get up; he had dived to the floor to dodge a curse. Peter and I were making a detour to reach the death eater’s back, counting on James and Sirius to occupy him enough. It seemed like a mess, yet it was a manoeuvre well established because of years of service in the Order. It had always worked, more or less depending on the case, but it had never failed us. Never until then, at least.

I realized things were going to get even more dangerous when the man turned his gaze to me, plunging his eyes in mine and with his lips slowly twisting in a sickening rictus whereas he was being assaulted by James. A move of the wrist had sent James flying a few meters away, hitting Sirius and bringing him to the ground in the process. He lifted his hand, and as the terror was invading me, the only thing my brain was capable of was wondering if the movement was really as slow as it seemed to be. I drew my wand but like in dreams, it felt like something was stopping my arm. A glare was burning in his eyes, it was so intense that I felt it in the depths of my body. If the thought that he was doing some wandless and wordless magic on me crossed my mind, I found myself unable to express it.

His wand was now pointed on me, his eyes fixing me to the ground and his power keeping me defenseless. Second by second, I saw his lips moving, forming a word I didn’t recognize, his arm got more stiff, his rictus wider. And behind my back, second by second, Sirius was getting closer to me.

The collision caught me by surprise, not so much because it was unexpected but because of the violence of it. Sirius’ shoulder hit my lower back which sent my hips forward, and my head followed one second late. Our bodies hit the hard ground, and the scream of the death eater covered our grunts of pain. He didn’t give us a moment to recover and I heard his steps before I saw him taking great strides. Sirius was already getting up, his wand firmly held high to protect the both of us, but he didn’t need it to counter the first attack. The arm of the death eater was trembling with what I thought was rage, and he missed Sirius. Instead of its initial target, the curse flew to me and scratched my skin just underneath my neck. The shock stopped me dead in my tracks. A few centimeters higher and it was over for me; the realization erased everything else in my mind, even the painful burning sensation where my blood was now flowing.

This time, the death eater didn’t mutter the curse. He yelled it, angrier than before, and the sound of his voice masked the noise provoked by Remus, who I saw approaching in his back. A green halo surrounded the death eater and disappeared in a heartbeat, barely illuminating the scene enough for the lifeless body of our enemy to be seen falling. However, I saw perfectly well his last curse making his way straight to Sirius’ torso.

Sirius’ facial expressions changed from relief to shock and then to pain, to agony. His hands reached to his shirt, and when he removed them, they appeared red, bloody. His fall began with the buckling of his knees. They hit the floor, and his body, drained of all its strength, tilted forward. His arms had gone limp and his face crashed to the ground.

It had all happened in less than a second.

I was unable to move.

Somewhere at my right, several grunts escaped Peter’s mouth as Lily and James were helping him. I didn’t process his bloody leg, nor did I realize Lily was using only her right hand. Remus was already at Sirius’ side, and it’s only when he looked up to me with wet eyes that something clicked.

“Sirius!”

To be continued...

#Harry Potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #Sirius Black #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #blood

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jjaybank · 5 years ago

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Salt Chapter Two

Ocean

In which Y/N and JJ catch some waves.

{Chapter One- Accepted}

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Reader (mentions of John B. x Reader) Summary: Starved of love, JJ struggles with the realisation that he’s falling for his friend. Hard. In This Chapter- JJ and Y/N hit the waves and stir up some feelings they’d prefer were left well alone. Word Count: 1.3K+ Warning: suggestions of smut, but be prepared for angst, fluff, and smut in the future

A/N: Thank you for the response from the first chapter! We starting to get into the story now my guys, I hope you enjoy xox

You wake the following morning spread over the sofa in The Chateau. Tangled in blankets and drenched in sunlight, you open your eyes warily against the brightness. Kie sleeps softly beside you, and you can’t help but smile at the content expression playing over her sleeping face. The sunshiney morning makes it hard to believe that there is a category 3 storm headed your way. You peer through the smeary window as you pad barefoot to the kitchen. You notice JJ swinging in one of the hammocks in the yard and wonder how long he’s been awake for. You curse as you accidentally kick an empty beer bottle, sending it spinning across the floor. You’d had a night of heavy drinking. You groan inwardly, feeling the ache of a hangover building up behind your eyes. Moving away from the window, and holding your head in your hands, you survey the room. Kie had managed to wrap herself up in your blankets as well, and the soft snores of John B. and Pope could be heard coming from the bedrooms. You move to the sink, running the tap until the water runs cold. Moving as quietly as possible you fill two glasses and make your way outdoors to the hammocks.

JJ watches you walk across the yard towards him. You tread carefully, navigating the stony ground with your bare feet, stubbing your toes nonetheless. He struggles to conceal a smile as you grimace your way over to where he sways in the gentle breeze. You wordlessly pass both glasses to him and scramble into the hammock next to him. ‘Nice t-shirt’ he mumbles, passing your water back over, and continuing to stare out onto the marsh. You self consciously pull the oversized shirt down over your thighs. ‘Oh, thanks, it’s John B.’s’ you reply brightly- too brightly for the headache you’re sporting. It turned out you hadn’t left any spare PJ’s at John B’s, and subsequently had ended up rummaging through his drawers to find an old shirt to sleep in. You’d been pretty drunk when you’d discovered this, and it looked like you chosen a garishly coloured Marvel themed number. No wonder this had been right at the bottom, you thought, it was hideous. JJ doesn’t respond, instead he absent-mindedly flicks his zippo lighter and holds the glass of water against his bottom lip without drinking. You watch him, wishing you could see inside his brain. You want to rip that cap off his head and rummage around in his mind, unravelling whatever is troubling him. His face is frozen in a frown, and it could be a side effect of his own hangover, but you doubt it. ‘Penny for your thoughts?’ you say after a few more moments of unbearable silence. His eyes flick over to you suddenly, as though he’d forgotten you were sitting beside him. ‘Let’s go surf.’ He states abruptly, jumping down from the hammock and leaving you sat in a bewildered confusion. You scramble after him, sloshing water down your front. Back in the Chateau you change into your swimsuit in the bathroom and brush your teeth vigorously, scrubbing the stale taste of alcohol from your tongue. When you go to wake Kie, JJ stops you. ‘They’ll come when they’re up’ he says briskly, grabbing both your boards from the porch. ~ It was nice just spending time alone with JJ for a while. Since he’d been acting off you wanted to get some time alone, some time when he couldn’t really just storm off. You had been so close for ages and it felt a bit hurtful that he was obviously not telling you something. JJ was the one who had taught you to surf in the first place, all those years ago, and he still couldn’t help himself but nit-pick on your style and form. You’d been out on the surf for a while before you both came to a natural pause, sitting astride your boards next to each other. You bobbed in the current silently for some time, slightly out of breath, enjoying the sounds of the ocean. The waves were high today, forecasting the incoming weather. You close your eyes and bask in the warmth that the sun casts over you. You can already feel the salt drying on your face. ‘Y/N’ JJ says, breaking the relaxed peace and quiet. You hum in response. ‘Are you still sleeping with John B.?’ You nearly slide off your board and his hand reaches out instinctively to steady you. You laugh incredulously, but when you look over at him, a hand shielding your eyes from the sun, he looks deadly serious. ‘Oh my God, JJ, no!’ you look at him, shocked. He doesn’t seem convinced, screwing up his face and looking out onto the horizon. ‘JJ, I mean it, that was years ago.’ You try to manoeuvre your board, so you are face to face. He can’t help but smile at your ungraceful attempts. ‘Is this what you’ve been worrying over?’ you ask, when you’ve finally got yourself opposite him. He nods bashfully, rubbing his face in his hand. ‘JJ, John B. is my friend, nothing else, just like Pope is just my friend- it’s the same thing.’ You don’t really know why you use Pope as an example rather than JJ himself, but for some reason it feels more truthful. ‘You’re a Pogue now Y/N, just wanted to check you were following our rules.’ He grins at you, now satisfied with you answer. You feel a rush of relief as his weird silence on the boat yesterday, his questions about your sleeping arrangements, and his despondency over the clothing you had decided to sleep in, suddenly made sense. He was just worried that you and John B. had slipped back into old habits. You also feel a twinge of – is that disappointment?- that he seems so set on those ancient ‘No-Pogue-on-Pogue-Macking’ rules. It seems so silly to still be living by the rules of some kids. But you go along with it because you hope that will make him happier.

‘I know, I know, and I wouldn’t wanna jeopardise any friendships- you know that.’ You smile cheerily at him, and his grin falters slightly. You feel like you’re in a test and you got the easy answer wrong. It’s quite clear that there are feelings between you that are slightly stronger than friendship. A magnetic pull dancing dangerously, one that you dare not explore. He squints his eyes against the sun to look at you again. His eyes are so brilliantly blue in the morning light. They have such a depth to them; and the ability to turn dark and stormy as suddenly as his temper. It’s funny, you muse, how like the ocean they are. There is something deep inside them, something you can’t quite put your finger on. Is it regret? Longing? Hope? This sun-soaked boy with eyes just like the waves he conquers. You are trapped in his gaze for what seems like an age- swimming there, treading water. You notice how the salt is starting to crystallise on his broad shoulder, sparkling in the sun and the reflection of the sea. His hair is pushed back and glowing like spun gold, a dripping halo. You realise you have never really looked at him so honestly before. With such a raw acceptance of how you are absorbing him. The sound of the waves lapping against your boards, and the gulls overhead, are dream like. He’s suddenly distracted by something behind you, and, pulled from your trance, you twist around to see your three friends running down the beach towards you. ‘Hey -JJ, Y/N! Save some waves for us!’ And just like that- the dream is over. JJ shoots you one last smile, before paddling off to join the others in the water. The smile is small, and slightly sad, with an overwhelming sense of defeat and knowing. It leaves you feeling even more confused than you were before. Because there was nothing you wanted more than to spend the whole day just sitting there, in the ocean with the blue-eyed boy, marvelling in his existence. And you couldn’t shake that ache he left you with, the feeling that you needed more. [Chapter Three: Smoke] ~~ Tag List:@danicarosaline @sspidermanss @teamnick (message me or respond to this post if you wanna be in the tag list x)

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #outerbanks fanfic #jj maybank outer banks #outerbanks #john b. routledge #kiara carrera #pope heyward

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ayyyez · 5 years ago

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Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki/Reader

Contains: angst and fluff Warnings: none, except swearing and kissing? Word count: 13,102 Summary: Reader finds themselves drawn to Bakugou and when they follow this feeling they end up with more than they bargained for when they become his source of comfort every night before he goes to sleep.

Also posted to my ao3 link is here [x]

a/n: This is a very self indulgent oneshot. I got inspiration for while catching up with the anime. I just love Bakugou’s character and wanted to see him be soft. Also first time writing for Bakugou and BNHA in general but it was fun! It’s very long so I’m adding a cut.

It started after the kidnapping incident when everyone moved into the dorms.

You had been shaken to the core when it all went down but now that it was over the only person you were actually concerned about was Bakugou. There was no doubt he would hold his own but you could tell his behaviour had been off since he had come back. You were also smart enough to know he wouldn’t talk about it.

That didn’t mean you would let it go.

Everyone was sitting in the common area, buzzing with the new dorm life. From their perspective, things were smoother, more subtle in their from home to dorm life. Your chin rested in your hand, your other lingering on your lap. You watched as the others filled the silence with conversation and you instinctively turned your head to find Bakugou.

He was sitting in a corner seat, arms crossed while Kirishima talked to him about something, you couldn’t quite hear. Through the window sunlight shines onto the left side of his face and casts a shadow along the other. It highlights his hair around his forehead and the indifferent expression on his face. The sight alone brought back memories of the event, when all you could think about was saving your classmate.

It was then Mina decided it would be a good idea to check out the boys rooms and rate them accordingly. Your gaze snapped to the girls in front of you and you couldn’t help but jump on board. The excitement of moving into the dorms was an infectious thing and you hoped it would reach everyone—especially him.

As you went from floor to floor and observed each room you couldn’t help but feel something was missing. Instinctively you searched the crowd, noticing a few faces missing. It was then Kirishima mentioned Bakugou had gone to bed and something inside you snapped. You just couldn’t take the guilt eating away at you anymore.

‘Actually, I just remembered I forgot something in my room.’ You called to your friends and quickly jumped out of the elevator.

‘Oh, alright.’ Ochako called after you. ‘Meet us at the next floor soon okay!’

You nodded with a smile as the door closed.

Then you turned and headed back down toward Bakugou’s room.

It was stupid really, going into his private space in order to check on him. He was definitely not someone who would take that lightly. But getting yelled at didn’t really bother you. The fact he might bottle it all up did.

When you reached the door you took a deep breath then knocked.

There was no answer.

You knocked again this time adding, ‘It’s me, can I come in?’

‘Get lost. I’m not showing anyone my room.’ He replied, voice muffled by the door.

‘That’s not why I’m here and it’s just me.’

There was a pause which made you a little hopeful.

‘I don’t care I’m sleeping.’

‘You’re a pretty talkative sleeper.’

‘And you’re pretty damn annoying.’

‘Would you stop being an idiot and let me in.’ You sighed, pressing your forehead against the wood. ‘Please.’

There was another pause.

‘Why are you here?’

‘To talk to you.’

‘So, talk.’

‘Are you seriously going to make me shout to you through the door all night?’

‘If you plan on being here all night then I’m moving out.’

You groaned, trying to remind yourself why you were there in the first place. With a deep breath, you pushed off the door, feeling the cool wood against your fingers as they slid down.

‘If you won’t open the door then I’ll just get in there my own way.’

‘Tch, whatever.’ You heard him grunt. ‘Just get lost already.’

‘Nope, I’m coming in. 3…2…’ You paused waiting for him to protest. ‘1.’

You used your teleportation quirk and found yourself standing in the centre of his room.

The room was dark, obviously he hadn’t lied about his intention to sleep since all the lights were out. The curtain of the room was open an inch letting in the moonlight. Using the subtle light it cast you searched the rest of the room. That was when you spotted a large mound in the bed.

You took a deep breath, preparing to say something.

His eyes met yours once you did. Him lying on his bed looking up at you and you standing, (uninvited) in his room.

‘Say what you want and get out already.’ He said, a little softer than usual.

‘Yeah, yeah.’ You sighed, reaching behind in the dark until you found what felt like a chair. After a few moments of awkward manoeuvring in the dark you sat down on the chair which slid back into the desk. With more shifting and shuffling you managed to turn it to face him.

‘Well I haven’t got all night,’ Bakugou said a little louder, ‘Don’t think I won’t throw you out.’

‘I came to check on you and—’

‘I don’t need a babysitter.’

‘Would you shut up and just listen to me,’ you sighed again, trying to force yourself once again to remember why you were there. ‘Like I said, I came to check on you and to apologise.’

You could tell by his silence that he hadn’t expected that.

‘That night at camp when…’ You needed to choose your words carefully. ‘When it happened. A big part of that was my fault.’

‘How was it your fault?’ His tone soft again but still held a touch his brash nature—that touch of him.

‘Because I was there and my quirk is supposed to be for those situations, okay? I should have been faster to get to you and—’

‘Enough already!’ He sat up. ‘Don’t be dumb enough to think it was your fault, no ones going to blame you for it so why even worry?’ You heard him sigh. ‘If that’s all you’re worried about then don’t be. So stop feeling guilty over nothing. You can go now.’

‘It’s not nothing.’ You said, firmly. ‘It’s a big deal to me.’

‘Well it’s not to me so forget it.’ You heard him flop back down against his pillow. ‘If you’re that worried then learn to make your quirk better.’

‘I plan to.’

A heavy silence filled the air but it wasn’t uncomfortable just new and unexplored.

You concentrated on the way the fabric of your pants slid between you fingers as your fists balled against them. Taking a deep breath, you realised that in his own way, Bakugou had told you not to feel guilty on his account and you knew he meant it. But you also knew it was probably him blaming himself.

‘It’s not your fault either you know.’ You said, softly. ‘No one blames you.’

‘Tch.’ He rolled over toward the wall, away from you. ‘Is that all?’

Why do you take on everything alone?

Honestly, that was all you had come to say but a part of you didn’t feel like his feelings toward the matter was resolved. You needed to do more or at least try to say something to make him talk.

‘What was it like?’ You paused, before clarifying, ‘Being taken by villains who wanted to recruit you.’

‘What do you think?’ Bakugou scoffed, shifting in his bed. ‘It was an insulting pain in the ass. Are asking if I was scared?’

‘I would have been. Of course I wouldn’t let that get in the way of my trying to escape but I would have been scared. I think anyone would have been scared.’

‘I wasn’t scared of a bunch of villains.’

‘That’s not what I mean.’

‘Huh? What the hell do you mean then?’

‘Just that not knowing what was going to happen would have been awful. Wondering how long it would take before someone would come. Villains assuming they could recruit you in the first place. Getting so misjudged when you aren’t even close to being a villain.’

Bakugou didn’t reply but you heard him shift again, presumably to turn further away from you since you couldn’t make out his face anymore.

‘I know you’re fearless but I figured even you needed to vent about it. Talk to someone who isn’t just trying to find out every detail about the event to track them down, you know?’ You sighed and stood from the chair and looked out the window.

‘I’m not fearless,’ he said, quietly, ‘I just don’t worry about all the dumb stuff like you do.’

For the first time that night you smiled.

‘Yeah, I guess that’s true.’ You let out a small laugh as you approached his bed. ‘But that stuff isn’t dumb, it’s normal. Don’t act like you don’t worry about that stuff sometimes.’ You leant down on the bed and poked him.

Bakugou flinched and looked over his shoulder.

‘Get out already!’

You laughed again. ‘Aw, come on I thought we had a breakthrough.’ You poked him again. ‘Come and inspect the last of the rooms with everyone.’

‘Hell no.’

‘Geez.’ You poked him again

‘Stop it.’

‘Come on!’

Another poke.

‘No.’

You went to poke him again but he turned and grabbed out wrist before you could.

With a yelp you fell forward onto the bed, face first against his pillow, your arm slung around him.

‘What the hell get out of my bed.’ Bakugou said, a little too quietly.

When you lifted yourself up, it took you a second to realise the position you were in. As you did you got an inhale of his scent. You weren’t sure if it was his scent or the scent of his shampoo sunken into the pillow but it was… nice? Fascinating.

You turned onto your back, removing your arm from around him with a huff.

‘You’re the one pulled me onto your bed.’ You reminded him, feeling a tingling sensation shoot through the arm that had touched him.

‘The hell I did.’ He shifted next to you.

‘Yeah well, either way, it’s still your fault.’

Bakugou grumbled but he didn’t push you out like you thought he would. Maybe he didn’t mind as much as he was making out. You took it upon yourself to test that theory.

‘Well, this bed is pretty comfy,’ You said coyly, faking a yawn, ‘and I am tired.’

‘Tch.’

A smile spread across your face.

You were fairly certain that had any of the other classmates tried this they would have been blasted out the door by now. That fact alone urged you to revel in this moment as long as possible.

Kicking your house shoes off you cautiously shifted and got under the blanket. The moment you did you were surrounded by warmth. You could feel it envelop you but most especially from his back which you accidentally grazed with your arm.

‘What the hell?’ Bakugou said, looking back at you for second before shoving his face back down on the pillow.

You turned to face his back, wondering whether or not you were crossing a line.

Bakugou wasn’t the type of person to keep quiet if you were bothering him and you honestly wondered why he hadn’t made more of an effort to kick you out. By his standards it was well pretty strange. Perhaps there was something more to it.

A boldness rose in you, a boldness you hadn’t know was there.

The next thing you knew you were scooting closer to Bakugou and carefully putting an arm around him to spoon.

He tensed on impact, making no sudden movements. You swear after a few seconds his skin grew even hotter but neither of you said anything. And he didn’t explode either.

You don’t know what possessed you to hold him. Somewhere in the back of your mind the idea of making sure he was alright turned into a need to make him feel alright. Words had seem to fail when it came to Bakugou so actions served as your only resort.

Still, it did seem a little overboard but it also felt nice. Really nice.

‘You’re warm,’ you whispered without thinking, letting your eyes drift closed.

‘Obviously,’ Bakugou replied, still not moving out of your hold.

You shuffled a little bit closer to him, seeking out more of his warmth. Your body had felt so cold in comparison to the heat he was radiating. He was like your own personal heater. Oh, you wanted more of this.

His breath hitched as you shifted, causing your eyes to crack open, as if only realising what you were doing. Perhaps this wasn’t a good idea after all.

‘Do you want me to leave now?’ You whispered.

‘I want to sleep.’

That wasn’t exactly an answer.

Just when you opened your mouth to say something else he snapped.

‘Just shut up and go to sleep and I swear if you tell anyone else about this—’

‘I won’t,’ you promised, ‘Let’s sleep.’

‘Hmph.’ Bakugou grunted before pressing further into the pillow.

There was much left unsaid between the two of you but it was undoubtedly there, like a cloud veiled moon in the sky, the faint light shinning through, not entirely seen, not entirely hidden.

You snuggled your head into the pillow and pressed closer.

That night you fell asleep holding Bakugou like it was the most natural thing in the world.

In the morning you both stirred awake immersed in a new reality. Except you weren’t in the same position you had been in when you had fallen asleep. Bakugou had shifted and moved and was facing you. It took a second for your eyes to focus but when they did you found his wide eyes staring back at you.

So it hadn’t been a dream after all. Damn.

You didn’t want him to freak out about it so you tried to act casual.

Carefully, shifting your arms away, you stretched before getting out of the bed. You made sure not to do it too fast as to look like you were running away. A part of you wasn’t sure why that was important, perhaps you simply didn’t want to hurt his feelings?

‘Morning.’ You mumbled, sleepily turning back to him. ‘I should be getting back to my room.’

Bakugou didn’t say anything, just stared at you.

‘Well, see you later.’ You said, teleporting to your room.

The moment you did you dropped the casual facade and wondered what the hell you had done. You had spent the night sleeping in Bakugou’s bed and he let you. That was something you never anticipated to happen.

Slapping your hands over your cheeks you groaned. Then, determined to dive back into reality, you went about busying yourself with a shower. You needed to forget what had happened and focus on going to school.

At breakfast you made a point to act as normal as possible and fight the urge to seek him out. As you spooned every last bite into your mouth, Ochako talked about how sleeping in the dorm was refreshing, you nodded along. But you couldn’t quite invest yourself into the conversation like you normally would, too distracted by the problem you faced.

Internally, you resigned yourself to the fact that it was a one time thing. Bakugou would definitely pretend it never happened and you were fine with that. Things would go back to normal soon enough and the uncertainty bubbling inside you would surely disappear.

For the rest of the day things went on like they normally did. The class spent the day working on developing ultimate moves which quickly took your mind off things. You already had in mind some moves you could utilise but you needed to fine tune them if they were going to be ultimate. You needed to get stronger.

Then there was your costume design to reconsider.

When your eyes did finally land on Bakugou he seemed very enthralled with his ultimate move training. It brought a smile to your face seeing how pumped he was. It also made you feel at ease, knowing he wasn’t worrying about the night before. That was definitely a good thing..

‘Did you have any thoughts about costume changes?’

You turned to find Ochako standing behind you, pulling your attention away.

‘I’m thinking of same design by lighter material and lighter boots.’ You smiled, the ideas and possibilities overcoming you. ‘That way I can move faster and it will be less effort to phase from one place to another, you know?’

‘That’s really smart!’ Ochako agreed. ‘I was thinking of making a couple upgrades too! Did you want to come arrange them with me?’

‘Yeah, sounds good.’

You turned to spare one last look toward Bakugou. He was standing on top of the makeshift mountain and already looking at you. Your eyes met for a painstaking moment before you turned away and followed Ochako. You were barely aware of the goosebumps on your skin on the way out of the training room.

The day had been so packed that it went by pretty quickly and before you knew it the training was over.

‘Hey are you coming?’ Mina called out to you. ‘We are all walking back to the dorms together.’

You waved her off. ‘It’s fine, I’ll catch up soon,’ You called, ‘I just have to pack up my stuff!’

By the time you had finished packing up your things you were left alone in the classroom. It wasn’t that big a deal being left alone when you were about to walk back the dorm room where everyone was waiting. A part of you enjoyed the small moment alone.

As you walked out the door, bag on your shoulder, you were alerted to someones presence.

Turning with a defensive stance, you found Bakugou leaning against the wall.

‘Oh, hey,’ you said, stopping next to him, ‘Were you waiting for me?’

Bakugou scoffed. ‘No, why would I do that?’

You shrugged, unfazed. ‘I don’t know.’

‘I just didn’t feel like walking back chatting with everyone else, alright?’

‘Alright.’

When he didn’t say anything else or move to walk away you wondered what he was waiting for. Then an idea struck you.

‘Well since you’re still here,’ you began, clutching the strap of your bag a little tighter, ‘did you want to walk back together? I’m kind of enjoying the quiet too.’

Bakugou sighed. ‘Yeah, whatever.’

You gave him a small smile and began walking back toward the dorms together.

Bakugou stood at your side, walking with his hands buried deep in his pockets. He also looked deep in thought, judging by his frown, so you didn’t bother trying to make conversation. It was nice just walking together in silence for a change.

The quiet allowed your mind wandered to the night before and an uncertain feeling bubbled inside of you. A thousand questions penetrated your mind. (Was this his way of making things normal between the two of you again? Was that why he was waiting for you?) Perhaps he really did want to avoid everyone else and it had nothing to do with you.

Pushing out the intrusive thoughts and forcing a smile you continued on walking. Instead of dwelling on the unease you instead wondered dinner and how it was going to work with everyone else here. Perhaps there would ramen or soba.

‘Hey?’ Bakugou asked, breaking your train of thought.

‘Hm?’ You replied.

When he didn’t reply you stopped and turned, realising he wasn’t walking beside you anymore. He stopped a few steps behind you and staring at the ground.

‘What is it?’ You asked.

‘Are you going to annoy me again tonight if I slip out early?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Don’t play dumb!’ He yelled, like he always did.

‘I’m not, you just need to be more specific!’ You parried but you underestimated how much the night before had affected him.

Bakugou could have meant several things. Were you going to go into his room and bother him or even go and sleep in his bed again. Out of all the possibilities, you knew which one was the most likely. You just weren’t sure why he was asking.

‘You know what I mean.’ He said, quietly.

‘I…hadn’t thought about tonight.’ You replied, honestly. You had been so caught up in the past night you hadn’t thought about the next one. That was Bakugou though, always thinking ahead.

When he didn’t reply or move you knew you had to say something else or the two of you would remain there frozen in silence.

‘Did you want me to come?’

‘Like I care!’ He said a little too quickly, brushing past you.

You blinked at the bluntness of his statement but it didn’t really bother you as much as it amused you. Then your smile faded a little as you realised there was nothing fragile about his voice but the words still came across to you as vulnerable.

When you didn’t follow him Bakugou turned back.

‘Hurry up or the others will be a pain and ask me where you are!’

‘Coming.’ You said, running to catch up.

The rest of the walk was made in silence. Your head spinning at the implications of Bakugou’s question and the way he was acted.

There were more questions. Did he want to make sure it wouldn’t happen again? Is that why he was waiting outside of the classroom?

Whatever the case you decided going to his room tonight would not be a good idea. Not that it bothered you; you had already told yourself it was a onetime thing. A sudden fluttery feeling arose inside you as you brushed by him and you each went your seperate ways.

The excitement of dorm life still bubbled amongst the girls and Ochako decided that you should show Tsuyu the rooms. Ultimately, you got dragged along since you had missed out on some too.

They assumed you had gone to bed the night before so Ochako filled you in on everything you missed. You wanted to return the gesture and tell her what had really happened to you but you knew you couldn’t. It wasn’t the sort of secret you could share even with your friend. After all it wasn’t just your secret.

Time moved pretty quickly after that.

Dinner came around and after came cleaning up followed by everyone heading to shower or retreating to their own rooms. You took the opportunity to shower and return to your room, reflecting on the day.

The whole time you worried you had crossed a line with Bakugou. Even you, as forward a person as you were, couldn’t deny that sleeping in the same bed as him had been weird. Especially how calming and warm it had felt. Bakugou was anything but calming when it came to day to day life.

Deciding to ignore that thought for now, you came back to the common area to see if anyone was still awake. That’s when you heard the array of voices; the girls talking in one part of the common area and the boys in the other.

The moment you entered the room your eyes met with Bakugou’s. You stopped, exchanging a long glance before he looked away. With an internal shrug you turned toward the girls and joined in on their conversation. Something about Ochako being in love.

You smiled and asked her if it were true. It only made her blush and freak out.

‘I don’t think she is going to tell us.’ You chuckled. ‘Maybe we should let her be.’

Momo agreed.

‘Aw come on Ochako!’ Mina insisted.

‘You know,’ you began, ‘maybe she would be more willing if you all talked about who you loved.’ You raised your brows at Mina for emphasis.

‘But I don’t have anyone!’ Mina groaned.

‘Then maybe Ochako doesn’t either.’

Mina pouted but relented and you simply shrugged.

‘Fine we’ll drop it,’ Mina agreed, before adding, ‘For now!’

You chuckled again. ‘Good enough.’

A burst of laughter and yelling came from the boys sat across the room. You turned toward the noise to find Bakugou standing.

‘Would you shut up!’ He yelled, before turning to walk away. ‘I’m going to bed!’ He shoved his hands in his pockets as he walked by the couch you were sitting on.

The moment Bakugou walked by he looked up at you, your eyes meeting once again. They lingered for a moment and you were overcome by a profound want—the want to reach out to him—to sooth him. Then he looked away and hurried by in a huff.

There was something about that look you couldn’t shake. In fact, it looked like he was trying to tell you something. It resembled the look he gave you earlier when you walked home, when he was telling you hurry up.

No, that couldn’t have been it. He would have said something, right?

Shaking your head of the thought, you turned your attention back to the girls. For about five painful minutes you tried to get re-involved in the conversation but you just couldn’t concentrate. There were too many questions on your mind. Too many things unanswered gathered inside you like a pile of rocks weighing you down.

‘I’m going to bed,’ You said, standing up abruptly. ‘See you in the morning.’

The girls bided you goodnight and you were gone, walking in long strides toward the elevator. You could feel the heat in your cheeks with every step, the adrenaline pumping inside of you.

Pushing the button for the fourth floor, the doors shut in front of you, sealing off the voices of the common room. All the babble disappeared and the silence hit you like a cold shower. As the elevator began to ascend with a jolt, you felt somewhat numb. Your mind jumped from thought to thought without focus.

The doors dinged open and that fluttering feeling emerged in your stomach.

The question remained: should you go straight to your room or should you go and see Bakugou again?

Earlier in the day you had decided that you wouldn’t but that look he gave you made you question that decision.

Hurry up.

Hurry up meant he wanted you to come.

The doors began to close when you shoved your arm out to stop it. It opened with another ding and you leapt out onto your floor, heading to your room.

When you came face to face with your door, you froze. Even as your hand came to the handle it hesitated. Something in the back of your mind screamed at you to go and figure out what he had meant. You couldn’t ignore it—that wasn’t who you were.

‘Damn it.’ You muttered, releasing your hand from the handle.

Then without another thought, you teleported into Bakugou’s room.

‘About time.’

You turned to find Bakugou in his bed, hands behind his head and looking up at you. It was bizarre to witness how his face lit up at the sight of you. He probably didn’t even realise he was changing expressions.

‘If you wanted me to come you could have just said so when we walked home.’

‘Who cares? You figured it out.’

‘Actually, I’m still confused.’ You took a seat on the edge of the bed. ‘Why did you want me to come?’

Bakugou rolled his eyes. ‘Just hurry up, already!’

He really had a knack for ordering you to hurry up without telling you the what for. You did have a pretty good idea but a part of you still wanted to make him work for it.

‘Hurry up and what?’

He didn’t reply.

‘Fine.’ You relented, lifting up the covers and crawling in beside him.

Bakugou tensed a little as your arm grazed his but he didn’t move away.

You manoeuvred under the covers until you were both on your backs, side by side and staring at the ceiling. The urge to recoil was there, palpable in how he tensed under your softest touch but neither of you moved. There was a subconscious awareness of your surroundings, fine-tuned into each other, you could feel it.

‘You really are warm.’ You whispered, snuggling back against the mattress.

‘Shut up.’ He said, but it was quiet, like he the only meaning behind it was that he had nothing else to say.

You frowned a little.

‘What’s wrong with saying—’

‘If you’re gonna talk at least talk about something else.’

‘Alright,’ you said thinking of another topic. ‘Do you think you’re ready for the licensing exams?’

Bakugou snorted. ‘Of course I am!’

You chuckled. ‘I wish I was that confident.’

‘Don’t be stupid, just work on controlling your quirk better.’

‘It’s not my quirk I’m worried about.’ You said, shocked at your own honesty. ‘I’m just worried about making the right decisions when facing so many unknown opponents.’

‘Yeah well…’ Bakugou paused, ‘Tch, just work on your weaknesses if you’ve already developed your ultimate moves.’

You turned you face slightly to look at him.

Bakugou was still staring at the ceiling but his expression was softer than usual. God, was he actually trying to make you feel better?

‘That’s what I aim to do.’ You turned back to the ceiling. ‘It’s better to worry about my weaknesses than pretend they're not there at all, otherwise I won’t get stronger.’

‘Hn.’

The two of you stayed there for awhile in silence, staring up at the ceiling your arms occasionally grazing when either of you shifted. It was nice and calming, as though all your worries had been taken away.

‘Let’s go to sleep.’ Bakugou said, turning onto his side away from you. There was an implicit don’t you dare reject me thrown underneath the statement.

‘Alright.’ You turned the same way and automatically slid an arm over him.

Bakugou tensed again but he didn’t protest.

‘Goodnight,’ you whispered, closing your eyes.

He grunted in reply.

And just like that you began a routine.

Things in your day to day life went back to normal. The little anxieties you had toward the situation vanished from your mind. And you assumed it was the same for Bakugou.

During the day you attended the summer courses with your classmates and worked on getting stronger for the licensing exam. During the night you would continue working, spend time with your class mates and then, inevitably, you would find yourself in Bakugou’s room.

He never asked you to come (after that one time) but he was always expecting you. One night you confirmed that when you were a lot later than usual, studying up on something that could help you control your quirk better when you teleported into his room. He was annoyed at you for taking so long and even rolled over for you to get in.

Some nights the two of you would talk about the day or have next to nothing conversations that warmed your heart. Other nights when you were both exhausted you would climb into bed and fall asleep straight away. No matter what happened it always ended in Bakugou rolling over and you following suit.

It was a comfortable routine that you both kept a secret.

Outside of that you and Bakugou didn’t interact too much. You didn’t know whether it was because he was worried about the secret being exposed or if it was because you were afraid it meant something more than it did. It was better this way—that’s what you told yourselves.

Then the licensing exams came around. You were granted a license and Bakugou wasn’t. It was something that would hit him hard.

That night you were feeling exhausted but you were worried about both Todoroki and Bakugou since they had failed. Todoroki wasn’t the kind to open up to you so you merely wished him luck for next time. Bakugou on the other hand, well, you were worried enough to go to his room. That worry grew exponentially when you realised he wasn’t there.

An uneasy feeling resided in the pit of your stomach as you looked around his empty room. A part of you wondered whether this was him telling you to go back to your own room tonight. On the other hand, you couldn’t imagine him avoiding his own room merely because of you. He would just tell you to leave and that would be that.

Then there was the last time he had disappeared—kidnapped by villains. The thought of that made you more uneasy. You considered going to tell Aizawa but if you were wrong then Bakugou would only get into trouble. That was the last thing he needed.

You decided to bide your time and wait for him.

What you hadn’t expected was that he would come back ridiculously late and beaten up, covered in bruises and bandages.

As the door clicked open and he entered, Bakugou froze when he saw you, his mouth open and his eyes wide. It was like he hadn’t expected you to be there an —oh you actually waited? When he walked in and looked down, letting the door gently shut behind him.

‘What—’

‘Did you come to gloat?’ He cut you off.

It was like a punch to the gut accompanied by a light fluttering feeling in your stomach. You never realised that something small, like that assumption, could make you feel so deeply.

‘Of course not.’ You stood from the desk chair and took a few steps closer. ‘What happened to you?’

‘Nothing, it doesn’t matter.’

He still wouldn’t look at you.

‘Yes, it does.’

Bakugou’s fists clenched by his side before they, just as quickly, unclenched again.

‘I had unfinished business with Deku alright, the rest is none of your business.’

‘Alright,’ You exhaled, relieved it wasn’t something worse. ‘Are you okay?’

He looked up at you with wide eyes. He hadn’t expected that.

‘I’m fine.’

You nodded before asking, ‘Is Midoriya, alright?’

Bakugou frowned. ‘Why do you care?’

‘You obviously fought, I’m making sure everyone involved is alright.’

‘Whatever, he’s fine.’ Bakugou sat down on the bed and looked away. ‘You didn’t have to come here.’ There was something heavy that weighed on his mind. You could feel it just by looking at him, like a heavy weight pushing his feelings down.

‘I know but I was worried.’

‘Tch.’ His fists balled against his pants. ‘Why?’

‘Because of what happened today.’ You took a step closer. ‘Because when I got here you were no where to be seen. I was worried something had happened to you.’

‘You think I’m that weak?’ You saw the grip on his pants tighten. ‘That I’d easily get into trouble again with some villains or something?’

His words filled you with guilt. You had thought the worst but not because you thought he was weak. A part of you had seen he was vulnerable which is why you had reached out to him in the first place but you never ever saw it as a weakness.

‘I didn’t know what to think.’ You replied. ‘But I know you’re not weak. The one thing you have never been is weak.’

Bakugou’s hands unfurled and sat flat against his thighs.

‘It’s late,’ he said, getting under the covers. ‘I’m going to sleep.’

You didn’t know if that was an invitation or him telling you to get out.

Again, you reminded yourself that had he wanted you to leave he would likely have used his words, very loudly, to tell you.

Taking a deep breath you stepped toward the bed and lifted up the covers. Then you cautiously manoeuvred under them, trying your hardest not to bump Bakugou in the process. It would be like poking the bear if you did.

Feeling very much awake you stayed on your back, staring at the ceiling. Beside you Bakugou shifted, pushing himself further into the mattress. You smiled at the action and wondered what he was thinking.

‘Hurry up and go to sleep.’ He grumbled, voice slightly muffled by the pillow.

A small smile came to your lips as you rolled over and put your arm on top of his. Your fingertips loosely slid between his as you pressed against him.

Bakugou flinched at the new contact but he didn’t pull away. Instead he surprised you by enclosing his fingers around yours and tugging you closer.

That night neither of you fell asleep straight away.

You were awake thinking about what could have happened between him and Midoriya. And you didn’t know it but he was awake, very conscious of you breath tickling the back of his neck and the way you made him feel so comfortable and confused at the same time.

Something shifted between you and Bakugou after that, like another wall between the two of you had been torn down.

Since Midoriya and Bakugou were on house arrest they missed out on classes. Each night when you went to Bakugou’s room he would pester you about what he had missed. You shrugged with a smile and apologised since you and the rest of the class were made to keep it a secret.

Every time Bakugou would grumpily go to bed and sulk and you would tease that maybe you should sleep in your own bed. He would never stop you but he would grumble to himself and mumble a ‘Whatever.’ He would also stop asking you about class for the rest of the night.

Then the subject of work study was brought up and explained by the Big Three.

Before you knew it you were doing your work study with Kirishima and Tamaki at Fatgum’s agency. That meant more days and nights away from school and working out in the field. It also meant more questions from Bakugou when you returned.

You couldn’t remember him being this talkative before. All he wanted to do was find out what he was missing out on. It was probably more of a blow to him that both you and Kirishima were out in the field where as he was left alone. You two were the closest to him after all, although you weren’t sure if he would use the term friends. Not when you were concerned anyway.

One night you didn’t get back in until 3am and you were thoroughly exhausted. You needed to recharge before you could so much as think about using your quirk. It was a miracle you made it through a shower before you flopped down on your bed.

Although your body was exhausted your mind was still racing with the nights events and you couldn’t sleep.

Then there was a knock at the door.

You groaned in response.

There was another knock.

‘Open the damn door.’ Bakugou’s voice carried in a harsh whisper.

With an exaggerated groan you pushed yourself up and opened the door. Your eyelids were heavy, barely able to stay open as you looked up at Bakugou.

He looked down at you with a frown.

‘Well…’ He said, scratching the back of his neck. ‘Move, already.’

You stepped to the side to allow him in and shut the door.

‘What,’ you paused to yawn before continuing, ‘are you you doing here?’

‘What do you think?’ He was harsh, almost angry but you weren’t sure why. ‘I heard Kirishima get back ages ago.’

Ah, that was it.

It dawned on you why he was so irritated, remembering how you felt back at the night of the licensing exams.

‘I didn’t want to wake you. Plus, I’m too exhausted to use my quirk after tonight.’ Then you realised something. ‘Wait. Did you wait up for me?’

Bakugou immediately looked away and if your lights were on, you swore you would have seen a blush across his cheeks.

You let out a soft laugh.

‘Sorry, I was trying to be nice but I just made you worry.’

‘Who said I was worried?’ His gaze snapped back to yours with a frown. ‘What happened to you?’ His eyes observing the tape on your cheek.

‘Oh this?’ Your hand touched it absentmindedly. ‘Some jerk landed a hit but I landed more, no big deal.’

His frown deepened but he didn’t say anything.

‘Anyway,’ you continued, swaying a little. ‘I’m really tired so…’ You fell froward your forehead landing against his chest.

You were more tired than you realised.

Bakugou brought a hand to your arm to steady you, steering you upright.

‘Come on, let’s go to bed.’

‘I can’t teleport, remember?’

‘I meant sleep here, idiot.’ He guided you down to the bed then released you, letting you do the rest.

Once you shifted under the covers you grabbed hold of his wrist and pulled him down.

‘What the hell,’ he muttered, shifting under the covers beside you. ‘Such a pain.’

It was different to how you two usually slept but things between you had changed. You were sure you could both feel it.

Beside you Bakugou remained on his back making no move to turn over.

With a sigh you shifted to face him then slung an arm over him like you usually did. He relaxed at your touch and shifted closer. You could feel his gaze on you but you were too tired to open your eyes or comment on it. All you cared about right then and the was sleeping.

‘Your mattress is soft.’ Bakugou said, quietly.

‘Is it?’ You mumbled. ‘Hadn’t noticed.’

‘Hn.’

Then you realised. ‘Actually, this is the first time I’ve slept in my bed.’

Bakugou let out a sharp breath, as though he had just realised it too. You felt him tense a little, his gaze still burning a hole through you. You contented yourself by wriggling a little against him then relaxing again.

Just as you were drifting off you swore you heard him let out a soft laugh but you weren’t sure. What you did feel was his hand settling over yours just as sleep took you.

In the morning you awoke in the same position.

You stirred, gently pressing your cheek into the pillow with a soft groan. As your eyes cracked open they met Bakugou’s staring back at you. He was wide awake.

‘What time is it?’ You mumbled, letting your eyes close again.

‘Later than usual.’ He replied.

‘School?’

‘Geez how tired are you?’ He scoffed. ‘Not for you. I got extra lessons though remember.’

‘Oh, that sucks.’ You sighed, ready to drift off again.

‘Hey don’t go back to sleep!’ He nudged you. ‘I need to get back to my room, I’ve got to leave.’

You groaned in reply.

‘Tch.’ His tone softened a little. ‘Come on.’

‘What do you need me for? Just go to your room.’

‘Are you stupid?’ When you didn’t reply he added, ‘Everyones waking up now. I can’t just walk out of here without them spotting me so I need your stupid quirk to get me there!’

‘Oh right.’

Without thinking you activated your quirk, teleporting you to Bakugou’s room but being half asleep you miscalculated a little. Instead on landing on the bed you two landed with a thud on his floor.

‘Damn it!’ Bakugou yelled. ‘What was that?’

‘Sorry.’ You said, sitting up with a yawn. ‘I barely slept.’

Bakugou’s expression softened a little.

‘Just go back and sleep. I’ve gotta get ready.’

You nodded, still drowsy. ‘Bye, have fun.’

Then you were gone, teleporting back to the warmth of your bed. Snuggling beneath the covers, letting what was left of Bakugou’s scent fill your senses, you slowly drifted back to sleep.

When you awoke you went downstairs to do your catch up work from the classes you had missed with Kirishima. You were glad you weren’t doing your work study alone. Kirishima was also fun to be around so the time flew and you didn’t feel so anxious about missing out on so much work.

By the time the two of you were done it was dinner time.

The two of you began to ate, talking and laughing between bites. Then Kirishima turned to the entrance with a smile.

‘Oh, hey guys! You’re back just in time for dinner, come join us!’

You turned to where his gaze shifted to see Bakugou and Todoroki walk in. Noticing Bakugou looked a little angry you gave him a smile.

‘Yeah, come join us!’ You called.

‘I don’t wanna eat with him!’ Bakugou yelled, gesturing to Todoroki.

Todoroki didn’t seemed fazed by this, walking instead further down the table to join another group.

‘You didn’t have to be a jerk.’ You said, unamused.

‘I just spent all day with icy hot.’ He scoffed. ‘I’m getting some dinner.’

Bakugou left to get his meal and you and Kirishima turned to each other laughing.

‘So, anyway,’ Kirishima began, ‘Fatgum said next time we would be patrolling in pairs during the day.’

‘Yeah, it’ll be like regular hero duties,’ you replied, ‘did you do much of that when you did your internship?’

‘Yeah a little but it was more them showing us rather than us participating.’

You nodded. ‘Same here.’ Then a smile came to your face. ‘To think we are finally getting a feel for doing regular hero duties. It feels surreal.’

‘Yeah, I just don’t want to get too cocky and mess up.’

‘Aha, now you’re making me nervous.’ You shook you head. ‘Don’t worry I have faith in us.’

‘Me too!’

‘Me too, what?’

The two of you turned to find Bakugou there, holding his tray off food and looking at you.

‘Oh, just work study stuff.’ You said, trying to tone down the enthusiasm.

You felt bad rubbing in the work study in his face while he was still working toward his license. You could tell Kirishima was doing the same when he followed your lead.

‘Tch.’ Bakugou sat down next to Kirishima and began eating.

‘How are the extra classes?’ Kirishima asked.

‘Lame.’ Bakugou replied, not looking up. ‘You two were talking about the work study.’

Kirishima’s face lit up. ‘Yeah you should have seen us yesterday!’ He launched into recounting the events of the night before.

You smiled and nodded, explaining things whenever Kirishima turned his attention to you. The whole time you felt Bakugou’s gaze on you and you couldn’t help but feel something was different. You spared him the occasional glance, not wanting to alert Kirishima to anything but you were certain he was too involved in his storytelling to notice.

When he was done you excused yourself to go shower. You spared Bakugou one sympathetic smile as you stood before bidding them both farewell.

The shower gave you time to relax and wash your hair properly. The night before you had been to tired and just rinsed it. Now, you finally got a chance to give it a deep clean. It also gave you time to think about everything until your mind drifted to that one thing that seemed to always nag at you: Bakugou.

There was something off about him at dinner but you couldn’t quite put your finger on what it was. You considered that perhaps you were to hyper aware of each other. Maybe you were reading too much into it.

After your shower you went straight to your room. It was late and you needed time to recharge your social battery. Plus, you still felt a little tired from yesterday. You barely had time to sit down on your bed when there was a knock at your door.

‘Who is it? You asked.

There was a long pause.

‘It’s me.’

Bakugou.

‘Come in.’

The door opened slowly and Bakugou hesitated before stepping inside. The door clicked shut behind him and his eyes met yours.

A heavy silence fell between you.

‘Is everything okay?’ You asked, gently.

‘I didn’t feel like waiting.’ He said, quickly. ‘Not like yesterday.’

‘It’s still early. I was going to come soon anyway.’

Bakugou huffed then looked up and around your room.

‘Did you…’ You watched him eyeing your room with curiosity, ‘Did you want to stay here?’

‘I don’t care.’ His eyes caught on something. He stepped to the side and looked over your shelves, eyes lingering on certain items before jerking his head to the next.

‘Let me just check over my work before I go to sleep.’ You stood and walked over to your desk, getting out the catch up work you had done earlier. ‘You can sit on the bed if you want.’

‘Yeah.’ He replied, distracted.

You smiled and began reading through your work.

Bakugou didn’t shift from his position in front of the shelves.

‘Is this you?’ He asked, pointing to a photo.

You turned to see which one it was then nodded.

‘Yeah that’s me with my parents.’

Bakugou grunted in acknowledgment then turned away and went to lie down on the bed.

You turned back and continued going through your notes. As you went you found a few grammatical errors in your answers that you touched up. Then you checked all the notes you had made for the new math formulas.

‘What’s with all the books?’ Bakugou asked.

You paused, processing what he had said.

‘I like to read.’ You replied, immediately returning to your work.

Bakugou grunted again. He didn’t speak the rest of the time you spent checking your work. You were surprised he had asked you questions about yourself in the first place. You tried not to let him distract you.

When you were finally done you placed the completed work in your bag. Then you reached your arms up and stretched, craning you neck from side to side. That was when you turned to find his eyes glued on you. It caught you a little off guard.

‘Something wrong?’ You asked, lowering your arms.

‘No.’ He said, still looking at you.

‘Right.’

You walked over to the bed and waited for him to move. When he didn’t you frowned.

‘So are you going to let me go to bed?’ You asked.

‘What do you think I’ve been hanging around for?’ Bakugou shifted under the covers and huffed.

You crawled in next to him like you usually did and cuddled up beside him.

The two of you didn’t talk. You also noticed that he also felt incredibly tense under your touch. He wasn’t relaxing and you were certain he felt hotter than usual.

‘What’s wrong?’ You asked.

‘Nothing.’ He replied.

You scoffed. ‘Yeah, right.’

Retracting your arm and rolling onto your back you sighed.

Bakugou growled and rolled onto his back too, his head turning to face you.

‘I told you, it’s nothing.’

‘Yeah right,’ you laughed, dryly. ‘I can feel your frustration from here, whatever it is that’s making you like this.’

‘Don’t be stupid.’ He muttered.

You sighed. ‘Look if you're worried about the licensing makeup exam then don’t be. I’m sure you’ll get it no problem.’

‘Obviously, I will.’ He was a little too smug for your liking but you ignored it.

‘And,’ you continued, ‘If you’re worried about getting a work study then I’m sure you’ll get one easy too. Even if you don’t you’ve always got Kirishima as a connection to Fatgum so you could always—’

‘Shut up!’ Bakugou snapped. ‘I’m not worried, alright!’

‘Shh!’ You turned to him with a frown. ‘You want the other’s to hear you?’

He groaned and turned to face the ceiling.

‘Look, I won’t pretend to know what is bothering you but don’t just bottle it up like you usually do.’ When he didn’t say anything you continued. ‘I’m not saying you have to tell me but you can if you want to.’

Bakugou didn’t say anything right away. He contented himself by staring at something on the ceiling.

You watched him, sensing some of his frustrations calming as his body relaxed next to you. An all consuming feeling filled you as you continued to look at him. It began in the pit of stomach and trailed up to your sternum. You were then very much aware of your heart beating, echoing through your body.

‘It’s nothing.’ Bakugou said, tone softening. ‘It was just something stupid. Let’s sleep.’

‘Okay.’ You said, cuddling up against his side gain. ‘So warm,’ you whispered without thinking.

Bakugou didn’t say anything, just pushed himself a little closer to you.

For the second time since this thing between you two started, you fell asleep in your bed with Bakugou. You did have to admit that your mattress was a lot softer than his.

After that things grew a little distant between the two of you. It was expected on his part, with Bakugou it was always one step forward two steps back. But for you it had to do with something bigger and beyond your control.

You and the other work study students were informed about Eri and the operation. All of your emotional and mental energy channeled into the operation.

Between the assignment and the secrecy, it made it hard to be your usual self. You weren’t the only one either and your classmates were beginning to notice. It wasn’t something you could change until you had answers.

Most of the day you were emotionally checked out, constantly wondering whether or not they would succeed in finding her location. Ochako and Tsuyu stayed by you most of the day exchanging uncertain glances. It was the only thing you could do since you couldn’t discuss it with other people around. It would do more harm that good.

At lunch you sat with Kirishima whose own somber mood matched your own.

‘It’s hard not being able to say anything and pretend.’ You confessed, forcing yourself to eat your ramen.

‘I know.’ He said, staring at his own food. ‘I hate sitting around and waiting.’

‘Me too but imagine how Mirio and Midoriya must feel.’ You sighed, letting your noodles fall back into you bowl as you slumped back in your chair.

‘What the hell happened to you two?’

You looked up to see Bakugou join you.

‘Work study stuff.’ Kirishima mumbled, still staring at his food.

Bakugou looked at you, silently asking a million questions.

‘Sorry, we can’t talk about it.’ You said, not even able to force a smile.

‘Yeah, sorry.’ Kirishima added.

A heavy silence fell between you. You were torn between keeping your emotional switch off and crying. You could feel a lump in your throat.

‘Stop mopping about and eat already!’ Bakugou said, slamming his fist down.

That seemed to wake both of you from you somber trance as you exchanged glances. Without saying anything you both began to eat your food. You were thankful you were distracted from crying. The last thing you wanted was people worrying about you.

Bakugou sighed, sparing each of you a glance before he turned his attention to his own food.

You knew by that interaction alone there was going to be questions later. You couldn’t bring yourself to worry about that. You simply didn’t have the energy.

‘What do we have next period?’ You asked, staring down at your bowl.

‘Math.’ Kirishima and Bakugou said at the same time.

You sighed and leant your cheek into the palm of your hand.

‘Just what this day needed.’ You mumbled, bringing the noodles to your mouth.

The rest of the day went by in a blur. You weren’t sure if the notes you took made sense. If you weren’t already missing days of school for work study you would have stayed in bed. Even the lecture of Iida would have been worth it.

You spent a lot of time avoiding your classmates when you could and keeping to yourself. The possibility of them picking up on this behaviour was high but there wasn’t anything else you could do. It was painful to force a smile and lie. They would understand in the end. You just had to be patient.

When you returned to your room you contemplated staying there. You knew that if you went to see Bakugou he would just ask questions. Then you remembered that night he sought you out. Maybe this time he would figure out to stay away. Yeah right.

Taking a deep breath you teleported to his room.

Bakugou was sitting on his bed, turning toward you when you arrived.

‘Hey.’ You said, half-heartedly, looking down at the floor.

‘Hey.’ He replied.

You stood there expectantly, waiting for the questions. When they didn’t come you looked up at him with an uncertain expression. But Bakugou wasn’t looking at you, he was looking down at his hands.

‘Everything okay?’ You asked.

He stopped and looked up a little.

‘Shouldn’t I be asking you that?’

‘You know I can’t—’

‘You can’t talk about it, yeah I know. That’s all I’ve heard from you.’

‘I’m sorry. It’s not intentional or personal.’ You took a deep breath and sat beside him. ‘It’s just really important.’ You let your face fall into your hands.

‘Yeah, I figured.’

Giving your eyes a gentle rub you then removed your hands from your face. You reminded yourself to keep it together.

‘Thank you.’

He turned, looking a little startled. ‘For what?’

‘For not asking about it again, even though I know you’re dying to ask.’

‘Please, I’m not stupid.’

‘I know you’re not.’ You said, putting your hand on his.

Bakugou flinched, looking down at your hands. For a hairsplitting second you thought he was going to keep it there but he quickly snatched his hand back and turned away.

It was amusing to see him in this almost bashful way but you didn’t dare laugh. Instead you simply smiled and placed your hand back in your lap.

‘I’m going to bed,’ he mumbled, the line he always used to retreat and avoid the conversation.

You stood up feeling it shift under you.

Once he was settled he turned back to you. ‘Don’t tell me you still don’t get it.’

You smirked and hopped in beside him.

‘I’m not going anywhere.’ You whispered, shifting to settle in.

Before you could settle completely Bakugou shifted and turned to face you.

You froze, waiting him to say something or do something but he just stared at you. There was a soft crease on his brow, his eyes looking at you like he wanted to say something but couldn’t. There was a pain somewhere behind his gaze you could see it.

On instinct, you reached out to him, extending every part of you that you could emotionally muster and placed your hand on his cheek. It grew hot at your touch and his eyes squeezed shut.

The thought of removing it reached the forefront of your mind but vanished when you felt his hand on top of yours. He clutched your hand and kept his palms pressed to his cheek. Don’t let go.

You swiped your thumb away from your pointer finger and across his burning cheek then back again. I won’t let go.

There was something he was trying to tell you. Something he wanted to communicate but couldn’t. You felt it, felt the same pain enveloping you but you couldn’t determine the source. The things you felt were merely a byproduct of his emotions.

Bakugou opened his eyes and looked at you.

That all-consuming feeling returned again. All you wanted to do was wrap your arms around him and pull him close and oh, suddenly you wanted to kiss him. It wasn’t even your own selfish desires that formed that want. It was an act that served take away his pain, as if by kissing him you could take all those frustrations he felt onto yourself.

Instead of kissing Bakugou you closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

There was so many things going on. You weren’t thinking straight. All the stress was building up and obviously you were projecting onto Bakugou. It was something you had imagined, nothing more.

It was only after you opened your eyes again that you realised his hand was no longer there.

His eyes watched you intently. Your hand on his cheek burned. Everything between you two buzzed and screamed and you couldn’t bare it any longer.

You retrieved your hand slowly and he moved back first—like he always did.

‘We should sleep,’ your voice scrapped against your throat. Your mind reeling with theories, to circumvent the only logical conclusion of that burning touch into one that would suit your own needs.

A crease formed across Bakugou’s brow then, with a huff, he turned back around without another word.

Suddenly, the gap between you too filled with emptiness.

The intensity of your emotions confused you and hollowed you out. You wanted to reach out to Bakugou again, to hold him like you usually did but that need was now tainted with uncertainty. You attempted to regain your composure, afraid to reach out to him again and give yourself more ideas.

—No, something isn’t right.

In one swift motion, you turned away from him, burying yourself beneath the covers. Your eyes squeezed shut and you drew a shallow breath. In and out in and out. It wasn’t long before you relaxed and eased into a deep slumber.

Something was vibrating against the bed side table. Next you you, Bakugou swore groggily.

You blindly slapped the bedside table looking for the source of the buzzing when you found your phone. Stifling a yawn, you pulled it to you face and squinted when the light blinded you.

Bakugou mumbled something against your neck.

Straining your eyes you deciphered the messages, one from Ochako and the others from—Damn.

The moment you read the update your body stiffened and your eyes widened.

“Let’s meet in the common area.”

It was only when you went to get up that you realised Bakugou was wrapped around you. And his grip was strong. His breath tickled the back of your neck.

Squirming in his hold you attempted to shift his arms.

Bakugou grumbled and pushed himself closer to you in an attempt to stop you moving.

‘I have to get up.’ You whispered.

He mumbled something impossible to make out.

You rolled your eyes.

‘Come on.’ You squirmed again. ‘I promise, I’ll be back.’

Using more force you broke his hold and jumped out of bed.

‘You really are different when you’re half asleep.’ You mumbled, watching him resettle, his arm reaching out for the loss of warmth.

Bakugou looked so childlike in his sleepy state, entangled in the sheet and sleeping on his side with an arm reached out to where you once sat. A temptation arose, to reach out to him, to ghost your fingers over his profile: over his forehead and down to the tip of his nose. But the memories of the night before rushed to the forefront of your mind and your hand burned at the thought.

Then you teleported back to your room and went downstairs to meet the other work study classmates. It was time to take action and find Eri.

That day you broke your promise and didn’t return to Bakugou’s room. Instead, you retired to your room and left before he even got out of bed.

A lot of things happened that day, during the rescue operation.

In the end Midoriya was able to rescue Eri but each of you took a hit and went down hard. Many of the heroes found themselves being taken the hospital, yourself included.

When you woke up in the hospital room you went to sit up when a searing pain overcame you arms. Looking down at your arms and legs you noticed they were bandaged from top to bottom. It was a little surreal waking up safe and away from the fight.

It was also a little strange waking up alone.

‘You look like hell.’

You looked up to find Bakugou standing at the end of the bed, hands shoved in his pockets and an indifferent expression on his face.

Then you remembered. ‘Kirishima and the others are they—’

‘How do you think I got the memo to be here?’ He sighed. ‘They got beat up pretty bad and are couple rooms down but they’re fine.’

‘Oh, good.’ You looked back down at your bandaged hands, feeling the sting beneath them.

‘What the hell happened?’

You pressed your lips together then looked up to meet his gaze. His frown was deep, he was angry but you weren’t sure why.

‘The rescue operation was to save a little girl.’

‘Yeah I got the logistics of it idiot. I meant why the hell didn’t you tell me you were leaving.’ His jaw clenched and his expression darkened.

‘I’m sorry, I tried but I didn’t want to wake you.’

‘That’s a crappy excuse.’

‘It’s not like I could have told you what was happening.’

‘You could have said something!’

You hadn’t expected this reaction from him but now you were watching him you realised there was no other way he could possibly react. Something inside him hurt.

‘Why are you angry?’ It was a question asked not to prod but to understand.

‘Why wouldn’t I be?’ He looked down for a moment. ‘You say you are going to train and make your quirk better. Then you leave without saying anything and now you're burnt all over from overusing your quirk.’

‘If I hadn’t used my quirk then more people would have died!’ You snapped, a newly realised anger surging through you. ‘I’ll heal up fine in a few days so what’s a few burns compared to their lives? Even with my quirk I couldn’t save everyone!’

‘You idiot,’ Bakugou said. ‘That’s not your fault.’

‘Maybe not but maybe if I had been stronger I could have done something more.’

Bakugou didn’t answer and you watched him look over and out the window beside your bed. The rays from the afternoon sun shone through onto him. His features were soft in this light, his expression didn’t look so hardened.

‘There’s no point worrying about what you could have done all the time. Just focus on getting stronger instead.’

You took a deep breath, letting it sit in your lungs before exhaling again. With that you already felt lighter.

‘I know.’ You whispered. ‘That’s what you said last time.’

There had been something about his words, something underlying that told you he knew how you felt. Perhaps he harboured some of the same guilt you had but for other reasons—he had his own reasons.

When he didn’t say anything you asked, ‘What’s the matter?’

‘Nothing.’ His voice was dry. He cleared his throat and turned back to face you.

It had been weeks since the two of you had fallen into the routine. All that extra time spent talking about everything and about nothing. You even started eating meals together and talking outside of the dorm rooms. Sometimes you argued and it took willpower on both sides not to lose yourselves to the familiarity of standing on opposite sides.

Now, you wanted to push further than merely being on the same side.

‘Always so secretive.’ You sighed and challenged his gaze. ‘What is nothing to you, Bakugou?’

‘Tch.’ He was deflecting. ‘Why do you care?’

—Because you care.

‘I think we established a long time ago that I care about you,’ Your brow creased a little before you continued, ‘The question is: what am I to you?’

Bakugou blushed at the question. It wasn’t a dark, obvious blush, in fact you probably wouldn’t have noticed it if you weren’t watching for a reaction. It was soft and uncharacteristic but at the same time very fitting. His frown deepened.

‘What does it matter?’ He deflected, shifting on his feet.

For someone who was brutally honest about everything else, Bakugou definitely was not in touch with his feelings. Or at least had no intention being open about them.

‘Well maybe you should think about that before you come in here lecturing me.’ You hadn’t meant to be harsh but you couldn’t hold back. ‘I mean if you don’t care then maybe this thing between us…whatever it is, should stop.’

‘What the hell, of course I care—’

The door to your room opened and the nurse doing the rounds entered.

‘Oh, good you are awake.’ The nurse approached the bed. ‘I’ve got to change the bandages so your friend will have to wait outside while I check everything over.’

You nodded. ‘That’s okay,’ you turned to Bakugou, ‘I’ll see you later.’

He mumbled a goodbye before leaving, the door sliding shut behind him.

It was nighttime when you and Kirishima returned to the dorm building. Both of you needed a little extra time to heal considering the extent of your injuries. He had even made a point of visiting you once he could get out of bed. It was nice having someone to talk to and pass the time with. Once again you were thankful for Kirishima.

It was past dinner time but there was still a group of your classmates awake discussing something over on the couches. You made a beeline to the elevator, hoping to slip by them unnoticed and Kirishima followed behind you.

When the doors shut you pushed the button to your floor.

‘Are you going to go see him?’ Kirishima asked.

You let out a soft gasp.

‘What do you mean?’ You asked, hand tightening on your bag strap.

‘I share a wall with Bakugou and he’s not exactly quiet when he talks.’ There was amusement behind his words. ‘I kind of put a couple things together and figured it out.’

‘It’s not like that.’ You sighed, trying to find the right words.

‘Yeah, I know.’ He gave you a wide smile. ‘You both are my friends after all, I know you two pretty well.’

You returned his smile, feeling a little more at ease.

‘Right.’ The doors dinged open and you both stepped out. ‘Did you tell him that you know?’

‘What are you crazy? Of course not. Besides it wouldn’t help whatever situation you two have gotten yourselves into.’

‘Thanks, Kirishima.’ You say turning toward your hall.

‘No problem.’ He moved to walk away before he stopped and turned. ‘I hope everything works out! Night.’ He gave you a quick wave.

‘Goodnight.’ You waved back.

With a smile, you returned to your room and pack away your belongings.

When you were done you set your bag down by your desk and took in the room.

Your bedroom was clean, aside from the stray water bottle on the floor beside your bed and the book you had been reading the day before you left turned upside down on the desk. It didn’t throw the room off balance but was a small wrinkle, a sign it had been lived in. In reality though you spent more time in the common area and Bakugou’s room than your own. This space was reserved for the few hours a day you needed to be alone.

Being at the hospital had created more than enough alone time. You almost drove yourself crazy with all the thoughts you had, all the little things you tried to decipher. In fact, you had felt rather lonely there, especially at night when you had to sleep.

You had missed sleeping with Bakugou. But after the last conversation the two of you had, you knew it was necessary to have some space. You realised then that you could probably sleep in your own room and he wouldn’t know you were back. A small part of you wanted to do that—to avoid Bakugou. But the part that wanted to see him was far bigger.

With a sigh you pushed yourself off the bed and stood in the centre of the room. In your head you counted backwards from 5, hoping you didn’t pop into his room at the wrong time.

After a deep breath you hit 1 and teleported into Bakugou’s dimly lit bedroom. Immediately your eyes went to the bed which was empty. Then you turned toward the source of light—the desk lamp—and saw Bakugou sitting there.

He had turned to face you, presumably having heard you teleport in. He looked at you expectantly but neither of you spoke.

The silence was heavy, filled with all the unsaid thoughts that you hid from each other. You contented yourself with sitting on the bed behind you, keeping your body facing him, your eyes not leaving his for a second. He met your stare head on, his brow creasing slightly. Both of you had fallen into the defensive stance, the walls around you up and your hearts hidden.

It took all your willpower not submit to that hold, the arguments and the projecting and instead try to pull those walls down.

‘What are you thinking about?’ You asked, softly, testing the waters.

Bakugou’s lip twitched and his fists balled against his pants.

‘Nothing.’ It was a defensive response, one he didn’t even think about but was automatic. ‘Just thinking about going to bed.’ Another excuse—it was always that excuse.

The circles you both went in were beginning to frustrate you. For once you wanted to simply say what was on the forefront of your mind and have him do the same.

Then you stood, eyes still holding his gaze and walked over to him.

‘You are avoiding it again, Bakugou.’ You said, firmly. ‘You weren’t really thinking about bed. You weren’t even looking at it. You were looking at me—still looking at me.’

He swallowed thickly, painfully audible in the silent room.

You leant down a little, feeling the weight of his gaze on you, watching your every move. You reached out to touch him, reached out to let him know it was okay but just before your hand reached him shoulder he flinched away.

‘Don’t.’ He croaked, standing upright in front of you.

‘Why not?’ You challenged, a stubbornness in your voice, impatience and irritation too. You’re both upright now daring each other to look away, to give in—you want to give in.

You can almost see the objections swimming in his eyes but he wasn’t vocalising them. His silence only prompted you to push further. You reached out again but Bakugou grabbed your wrist. You attempt to pull it forward. It was enough to trigger his reflexes and he yanked your arm away and in turn pushed you off balance.

You stumble forward but save yourself as your feet regained their footing. When you stare up at each other you there was something burning between you too. Something that was about to explode.

Bakugou lunged first–he always did, you go to pull your wrist back but you underestimated how firm the grip on your wrist was. Your eye contact doesn’t break but his eyes become hooded, half-lidded as he leant toward you. A kiss was pressed to your mouth, desperate and quick. The floodgates have opened. You followed his lips back as he retreated and then you kissed him.

He pulled back again and looked away, his cheeks blushing. You were too stunned to comment on it though because he had just kissed you. Your mind was still processing when he cleared his throat.

‘Let’s go to bed.’

You nodded accepting the retreat this one time and followed him under the covers. Your mind was far too alert to sleep. Too overcome with what had just happened.

That morning you awoke slowly, a few rays of sun peaking through the curtains into the room. With a yawn you shifted back a little and blinked your eyes open. When you immersed in world around you, you realised you were spooning Bakugou like you had several times before.

It was different this time, you had certainly never kissed before you went to bed.

As though hearing your thoughts Bakugou shifted and turned to face you his eyes seemingly wide awake as they met yours.

For a while the two of you simply stared at each other. You concentrated on how warm he was beneath your touch, your arm still wrapped around him. He seemed content lying there, waiting—for what you didn’t know.

‘Why did you kiss me?’ It was a kind question, with no hint of malice in your voice.

You felt him grow hotter.

‘Why did you kiss me back?’ He was deflecting again and you weren’t going to play that game.

‘Because I wanted to kiss you.’ Your voice was light but the weight behind those words weighed like a stone. ‘Why did you kiss me?’ You repeated the question, you needed to know.

‘Because.’ He stopped for a second, looking up at you. ‘Because every time we do this it feels like I’m on fire, even when you act like your slightest touch or comment would burn me, don’t think I’m stupid enough not to notice. What you don’t seem to get through your head is that I’m made to burn.’

For once there was such conviction behind his words. All this time you had thought you were the only one burning when he was practically up in flames beside you.

There was a pause as you glanced down from his lips back to his eyes.

‘Do you still want to burn?’ You whispered, as if a ‘no’ was still in sight, as if a ‘no’ would turn this entire situation upside down and you could abandon emotions and leave the room never to return.

Bakugou practically snorted. ‘Obviously.’

That temptation to caress his face was there again and this time you didn’t deny yourself the pleasure. You let fingers trace over over his forehead, down the bridge of his nose, over the apple of his cheek, the contour of his lips and down the column of his throat

It was enough for Bakugou to lunge forward again. His lips meeting yours with a firmness, a certainty that said he wanted this. And you indulged it, your hand still ghosting over his neck, reaching back up to his face.

Bakugou’s kisses turned softer, more lazy, more true to the earliness of the morning. And when he broke away he reached out to you for the first time and buried his face in your neck.

It was then you realised that your relationship with Bakugou had changed so rapidly over the course of a few months that it only felt natural to continue to move forward. You whatever this was, it would continue to change as the two of you grew together.

For now all you wanted to do was rest there with Bakugou a little while longer.

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juyeoniemyhoney · 4 years ago

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home is where you are

Jimin is finally home, after much of your suffering. While he was gone, you were left a cold, lump of longing, but you had learnt that Jimin is far more than just the love of your life. He is your shelter, your source of comfort. You find out that home is not your shared apartment, home is wherever Jimin is.

-pairing: park jimin x reader

-genre: fluff, established relationship

-warnings: none, maybe a little stupid rip

-word count: 865 words

-A/N: just a short, little jimin fic for his birthday! it’s a little short, but i hope you guys enjoy it regardless! by the way, requests are open, so don’t be shy to drop one! and do tell me what you liked and didn’t about this fic! it really helps me improve my writing:)

--------

The moment you hear the jingle of keys and the clicking of the lock, your heart leaps in your chest. You leap out from beneath the covers of your bed and sprint to the front door; you couldn’t sleep anyway.

Despite the house being pitch black, you manoeuvre around the furniture with the ease of familiarity, until you are swinging open the door with longing desperation before the person on the other side can push it open.

Jimin, having had his hand on the door handle, ready to push it open, is yanked forward as a result of your haste. He stumbles but catches himself before he can fall, eyes shooting up to yours in surprise.

You don’t give him enough time to process or say anything before you are leaping into his arms, your own arms coming around his neck, legs circling around his waist. On instinct, Jimin’s arms come up to support your weight, wrapping around your waist to hug you back, luggage forgotten on the floor. He lets out a sound of surprise before it melts into a chuckle. Your heart dances to the sound.

“You missed me that much?” he whispers into your hair, strands tickling his face as he presses a kiss to your head. “I told you not to stay up, silly,” he continues when he feels you silently nod your head. At his words, you only hold him tighter, pressing your face into his neck, like you are trying to absorb his scent and bottle it in your very being so that when he has to leave again, you will not be in as much agony.

“I couldn’t sleep anyway,” you mumble into the skin of his neck, lips grazing the soft skin. You return his kiss with a peck to his neck. Not in any way sexual, but instead, a peck that screams, thank you for coming back.

“Well, I missed you more,” Jimin replies, grin present in his tone. You don’t make an attempt to argue otherwise with him, only because you’re sure that Jimin will not let you win. And as you continue to bask in his presence and the feeling of his comforting warmth swathing you, Jimin carefully reaches down to haphazardly drag his suitcase into the house, leaving it by the couch.

As he heads back to the door to shut it and take off his shoes, you ask, “Do you want me to get down?”

“It’s okay, baby,” he says with a laugh. The sound sends your heart pounding, ricocheting in your chest like a pinball. You’ve always loved pet names. And Jimin has always indulged you with them.

“Good, because I want to stay like this longer.”

At that, Jimin lets out a cackle, loud and unflattering in all of the most perfect ways. You had really missed him; his presence, his scent, his warmth, his touch, everything. You thought that you’d be able to handle the month he was away on tour. But only about a week in, you had crumbled to the floor in loneliness and emptiness, missing Jimin far more than you thought you could. The sound of his laugh travelling straight into your eardrums, and not through the speaker of your phone, is strangely comforting. The speaker had always made Jimin’s voice sound distorted and foreign, stripping it of the natural, smoothness of it. Through the speaker of your phone, he sounded like he was a million miles away— which, he was, but you had hated how it reminded you of that fact, like you didn’t already know.

After removing his shoes, Jimin silently carries you to the couch and gently lowers himself down, positioning himself so that you are laying on his chest, his chin resting gingerly at the crown of your head. He silently pats the small of your back, an unconscious habit that he often portrayed when you two were cuddling. You have always liked when Jimin pats you, it makes you feel safe and assured, as if he was constantly reminding you of his presence, even though you are positive you’d never forget that he is always there.

Despite the fact that this whole experience was emotionally and physically draining, you think that in the foreign silence of your shared apartment, you had an epiphany. Because even though the whole apartment had traces of Jimin riddled in every inch and corner, pictures, clothes, and so much more, when Jimin left for that one month, your apartment was suddenly just another house. In the month that Jimin was gone, you had realised that despite how much you and Jimin had decorated and personalised this house, it was still just a house. You had realised that the moment Jimin had stepped into this house, it had warmed the cold atmosphere you had been suffering in.

Jimin. It was always Jimin. He is your home, warm and comforting, your source of shelter and refuge. And you think, no, you know that Jimin thinks exactly the same as you; in the way he tucks you closer into him, so close, it feels like you’re sinking into him. And then, he whispers,

“It feels good to be home.”

#jimin #park jimin #bts #bts au #jimin au #jimin imagine #jimin imagines #bts imagines #fluff #jimin fluff #jimin x reader #bts scenarios #jimin scenario #jimin fanfic #bts fanfic #fanfic

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moonchildsaurora · 5 years ago

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The Racer who chased supernovas

»»—— Crew Member #7 of Space Pirates ATEEZ ——««

all aboard The Perihelion, welcome to the co-pilot’s log system! here you’ll be able to access the crew’s profiles should you wish to read about their journeys: (no nsfw content)

[CAPTAIN] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8]

“your wings have always existed, all you have to do is fly and fly high for the winds will be at your command”

the other individual that you could pick out from a crowd, especially by his high-pitched laughter

full of charisma and a youthful soul, he attracts all kinds of attention and has trouble reigning in his recklessness at times

Wooyoung is an Alxil-Rolgrie mix who survived on his own in the lower district of Liyutania, the other member of The Perihelion who didn’t really know the meaning of family until his path crossed with the others

[database file: Rolgries are very much human-like beings, only distinguishing features are their strikingly light-coloured hair (that comes in shades of ivory, lilac, silver and/or coral), heterochromatic eyes and slightly translucent pale skin. This is due to their inherent ability to camouflage with their surroundings, like a chameleon, if they so wish to. Alxils are a nomadic sub-group of Dark Elves, preferring to keep to themselves. Having darker hair along with a more ash-grey skin, glowing red eyes and defined elongated ears]

Wooyoung seemingly took on more of his Rolgrie heritage in terms of physical appearance & ability. His hair is of a lilac-coral mix (that resembles the hues of sunset as Yeosang once said), an indigo-coloured left eye & violet-coloured right eye, slight translucent ash skin and the Alxil elongated ears

his camouflaging ability came to him since his youngling years though he didn’t really master it until his adolescence. Used to need all the concentration he could muster just to hold a full blend or to make sure it was the correct blend in the first place but now he could hide his entire self easily with his eyes closed

this has proven to be extremely beneficial for him to make his way around town undetected and a free-‘get-me-out-of-this-mess’-pass

though Yeosang made him pinky promise not to use that during their childhood games of hide-and-seek because he knows Woo would cheat to win

“I would never!”

“…you literally have been standing there all this time and I’ve just walked past you at least 10 rounds making me look like an idiot”

“gotta admit that was pretty fun-OW OK OK!!”

the lower district community did look out for Wooyoung, knowing that the cheeky kid meant well and he was just trying to get through each day at a time

sometimes one of the more empathetic merchants would allow Wooyoung to sleep on a spare rug under their tents, other times young Wooyoung would be lucky enough to find unoccupied shelter on his own to stay the night. Elderly food vendors would drop off extra scraps to make sure he wasn’t going to bed on an empty stomach at least

has had a few rough run-ins with the Uppers that caused him to be defensive by instinct and personally biased towards their aloof, ignorant nature although his view significantly changed after meeting Yeosang

initially he thought the young half-Suva was an oddball because why would an Upper remotely be interested in knowing his name, least of all saving him from face-planting on the ground too?

the warmth he felt on that day was by far something foreign for him to feel especially after how Yeosang complimented his appearance and shared his oshiadilla bun. With the meekest “thank you” Wooyoung marked that day as friendship achievement unlocked

when Yeosang spontaneously invited him over for dinner Wooyoung spent majority of his time just gawking and taking in the sight of the Kangs’ residence, too afraid to touch anything in case he’d accidentally broke it, “is that really a golden fountain in the middle of your courtyard?!”

young Wooyoung got terribly confused as to why there were so many forks, spoons and knives for one person to use at the dining table too

he became a constant around the residence so much so that the Kangs adopted him and it took him a good whole month just to process the fact that he was now a part of a family, he belonged somewhere – Wooyoung would never trade anything in the galaxy for this

the first time Yeosang ever saw Wooyoung cry was when his parents surprised them with their new school uniforms and supplies. His mother helped fitted their uniforms, embracing both her sons closely afterwards and all Wooyoung could think in that moment was damn did it feel good to have a mother’s embrace

it also felt really good to receive Yeosang hugs too, not really knowing just how touch starved he was

academic studies wasn’t really his thing but he did try his best, being street smart was more up his alley, ��no matter! Education is important and everyone should have an opportunity for it, so long as you come home knowing something you didn’t know the day before,” were the encouraging words his adoptive parents would give

he holds high respect for Yeosang’s intellect and wouldn’t shy from proclaiming loudly & proudly, “THAT’S MY BEST FRIEND AND OLDER BROTHER!” whenever Yeosang did his thing in the classroom even though he’d earn a forehead flick from a flustered Yeo most of the time afterwards

Yeosang may not be as openly affectionate as Wooyoung is nor show that he actually cares in an obvious manner, but he did make it crystal clear just how important Wooyoung is to him after punching a classmate who had nothing better to do than rudely reiterate the differences between Wooyoung’s ‘kind’ and the rest of them

from that day on Wooyoung swore to have Yeosang’s back, just as much as he had his. He almost cried out of fright that Yeosang had put himself and his reputation on the line to protect him. Ended up crying in bed at the overwhelming gratitude that he felt from receiving the amount of love that he himself still wasn’t sure if he deserved

“don’t you dare think otherwise, and besides the only one who’s allowed to roast you as per sibling’s obligations is me”

before Wooyoung joined The Perihelion as Hongjoong’s fighter/main gunner, he was the up and coming Drifters Arena’s rookie champion in podracing

as a youngling he’s snuck into the Arena a couple of times to watch the races and it wasn’t till years later, for a birthday treat did he return to the Arena (this time purchasing a ticket properly, courtesy of his family). Wooyoung not only found his passion in flying but seem to have a natural flow for it too

he learnt the basics and started practising with the other rookies by having casual races. Effectively catching the attention of a previous retired champion, Redline, who saw potential in Wooyoung albeit his messy improvised manoeuvres and technique solely based on instinct when in race mode

Wooyoung had to get Yeosang to slap him just so he could tell that he wasn’t dreaming when Redline asked if he’d be interested to train under his guidance

“IS THIS THE REAL LIFE OR IS THIS JUST FANTASY?”

“stop being such a drama queen! He’s right there you know?”

more yelling ensued when Redline set Wooyoung up with his very own podracer, a second-hand from the mechanics but reliable enough to still function decently. Over time with his winnings Wooyoung was able to spend it on extra parts and resources to spruce up his beloved baby; Aurora (yes he was very proud of the name he came up with for his podracer)

‘Little Speedstar’ was the nickname that Redline gave him but Wooyoung wouldn’t have it because, “I’M NOT THAT LITTLE”

“no you’re just vertically challenged that or gravity is just against you” Yeosang would snicker in lowkey

to say that it’s stressful watching a podrace would be an understatement according to Yeosang (anything goes in a podrace and racers aren’t conservatives when it comes to playing dirty at times), but it gave him nothing short of pride and joy watching Wooyoung effortlessly dance through the skies and be the first racer to cross the finish line

Wooyoung loved and appreciated seeing Yeosang amongst the crowd, it was a grounding factor for him before every race. What wasn’t a normal occurrence for him though was seeing his best friend being manhandled by an odd bunch of strangers

with post-race adrenaline kicking in and the need to protect strong he didn’t think twice about yelling at the group and power stomping towards them, not stopping even when he thought, “well damn, hello gorgeous” as San stepped defensively in front of Mingi to shield Wooyoung’s attempted swipe at him to get Yeosang back

fortunately over time more trust was established and their bonds were less of a rocky road, if anything Mingi empathised the most with Wooyoung for having similar backgrounds and lack of family in their early years of their lives

the other combo package deal that Hongjoong got with Wooyoung and Yeosang officially joining the crew

Wooyoung adapted fairly well to his new nomadic lifestyle and just when he thought his world couldn’t have grown any bigger, it did; now his family extending to that of the crew (he still dislikes being sent to Hongjoong’s room and will always complain to Seonghwa because, “I’m your favourite son right?”)

San became his go-to whenever he needed to fill his daily quota of affection

the party don’t start till him and Mingi walks in, drinking buddies along with Jongho (Wooyoung has a very soft spot for the youngest) & Yunho. Is openly smug about the fact that he’s got one of the best alcohol tolerance on board

when Jongho installed blasters onto Aurora, Wooyoung had dubbed it the glo-up of the century. Not only could he fly to scout/retrieve/act as a distraction but he could f i g h t now – he could make things explode (chaos levels have increased)

accidentally became the other half of the reason as to why Hongjoong banned any sexytimes on the ship and a sensitive content blocker feature was added in the Yunhogizers after Wooyoung sent a spicy photo to the group chat instead of his private fling

“Mother did NOT raise you this way”

major pouting over having bro privileges revoked but he’s been cooped up making a dozen new starcatchers for Yeosang and also has hijacked Seonghwa’s kitchen to surprise cook dinner for the crew as an apology literally wrestled a Grandu [database file: equivalent to a giant crab, a food delicacy] into the pot to boil and learnt that cutting onions truly is the demise of every being

all in all never forget (1) Wooyoung loves his family, very much (2) anyone who messes with them is sure to become target practice for him

(moodboard made with love, by @s1ardusk ♡)

#ateez headcanons #atzinc #aurorateeznet #atinyforatiny #pirate ateez #pirate ateez au #ateez au #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #jung wooyoung #ateez wooyoung #ateez drabbles #ateez writing #ateez fic #Perihelion Crew #pyx writes

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thewhumpstuff · 5 years ago

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You and I, Me and You [5]

@badthingshappenbingo [Original content and characters for - Collared and Chained category]

[Teaser and Master List] [Archives of our Own] (You and I, Me and you: Chapter 6)

[<– Previous] ~ [Next –>]

Bound by choice.

A metal door was opened, its hinges creaked. Not the same door, this was a different room. She drew in a breath, and it smelled different too, damper. Though she could not see, the warm trapped air perpetuated a sense of claustrophobia. This felt like a smaller room. Subconsciously, she instantly wanted out. Instinct won and she turned away from it, towards him.

He’d been firm in the way he manoeuvred her, but not unkind. Not so far. He shoved her backwards with a certain violence. His push, coupled with the inability to see, had her tripping. He almost reached out to catch her, but did not. He was glad that she did not see.

She fell, ass-first. Her tied hands broke the fall. There were pieces of glass beneath her. It was fine enough to not cut through fabric. But it did scratch her arms and palms. “Careful… The previous inhabitant was prone to breaking things,” he said wryly. Her hands were streaked crimson, a cursory glance let him know that the cuts were not too deep. Regardless, he had to fight the urge to tend to them. He noticed a piece missing from the floor.

She sighed and wriggled onto her knees and then crouched to stand. She clenched her fists, squeezing a drop of blood into the crease, the piece of glass remained wedged between her palms. Her arms were still bound, but maybe with this…

He closed in on her, his proximity was enough for her to back up. More glass crunched under her as she ventured in backwards. He crowded her; into the spot he wanted her in. Her back was against the wall. The surface was damp, she could feel the moisture. The back of her hand skimmed it with an exploratory interest... and found a chain. A thick iron collar hung from the chain. Though she did not get a chance to feel that. She was unceremoniously turned to face the wall as Jared lifted the medieval device, wedged it open and slipped it over her slender neck. The smell of rust permeated her lungs. Her mind drifted to a very different clink of a very different collar… That birthday night after the celebrations and the offer.

~~~

He’d changed course and led her back to his room instead of her own. She eagerly waited for the blindfold to come off. It did not. He led her to the carpet in front of his couch. The textile was slightly abrasive. She felt his hands press on her shoulders gently, coaxing her to kneel, facing the seat. She allowed it and sat back on her heels. “Don’t move.” The commanding nature of his voice was truly rare and so precious. “Mhmm.” “This is what you wanted right? For me to… take the lead?” She could hear him rummaging for things. She wasn’t sure exactly how to respond. He didn’t sound light-hearted as she’d expected. Which made her pout, at the void since he wasn’t looking at her. I can do intense! “Something like this… yes. Can I see you?” “No.” “Well, I can make requests right?” Her question was a little tentative this time, she was trying to establish rules for her for him to make her follow. “No, not really.” There was some dry humour in his voice, which was pleasing. Apparently, he did not really need the help. Not that that realization stopped her. Her breathing grew slightly shallow with anticipation. She could not believe this was happening. “Do you want me to like… call you sir or something?” Jared paused. It rarely took him long to find things, he was very organised. But she was distracting and delaying this makeshift arrangement. “Do you want to?” “I thought I didn’t get to make requests…” She teased, he huffed. “Touché. You’re right. Go ahead. Call me sir, let’s see how long that lasts.”

Shira had a painful disregard for hierarchy. He did not mind and luckily most in SpecSyn usually didn’t either. But that was not going to sit well if she went through with her stint at the Quantum Brigade. The reminder left him rejuvenated. He had to get her to see reason somehow.

“Will you punish me if I don’t?” Her sing-song voice lingered in the room. She was so blissfully unaware of the whirring gears in Jared’s mind. She taunted with abandon, still riding the high of the celebrations and the offer. He looked at her in time to see the smirk split her lips again and shook his head. He was glad that she couldn’t see him. Then, she would have recognized his ulterior motive. He could see that on some level, this was manipulative and exploitative… But it really was for her own good. “At this point, I’ll punish you if you keep talking. Do you want me to gag you?”

She wasn’t fond of blindfolds, but she hated gags with a passion. “See you tell me not to talk, but then you ask me a question, so what is it you want, sir?” He thought had a good idea of how arrangements liked these worked, in theory anyway. He had never envisioned taking on this role in such a capacity. He reiterated the rules she had wangled out of him. “You call me sir, stop asking me questions, stop making requests and I won’t gag you. OK? Ok.” He answered his own question and didn’t give her a chance to interject this time.

Upon finding the things he was looking for, Jared collected everything he wanted. Drawers were closed, cupboards were shut and she could hear his footfall grow closer again. He sat on the couch facing her. She was close enough to be within his reach. He tousled her hair. “You did a good job of staying still.” “Am I going to be rewa-” His fingers walking up her collarbones and to her neck made her fall silent. He fumbled with something thin and metallic till it clinked shut around her elegant neck. She recognized it. “I-is that what I think it is?” He hummed and did not reply. Jared reached over her, like enveloping her in an embrace, she leaned against him, offering more access. A pair of matching cuffs cinched her wrists together. Her breathing quickened. Both the cuffs and the collar were capable of shocking her. He wasn’t messing around. “Don’t worry. I won’t use it…” He promised, and she believed him. Grudgingly he reached for the prod-baton. He placed it against the crook of her neck. She sat up straighter. These tools at his disposal were a lot more domineering than she had expected.

“Sticks and stones, huh?” She asked softly. The baton glided over parts of her, as though wielded by someone absent—which Jared was most certainly not. He pressed it against her acnestis, somewhere just above the small of her back. “Bow.” She resisted. “Pfft. What, like you are god or something, sir?” “Shira…” he warned, tiredly. “What? I didn’t say I’ll make it easy!” He struck the side of her arm, not too hard, but it was likely to bruise a little. She almost lost balance but caught herself in time. He could see her face contort in a wince and was amazed that despite it being sudden, she didn’t make any sound. She exhaled slowly, like she was taking the time to make friends with the pain. “Ow.” She spoke, that was not a reaction. There was defiance dripping from the syllable.

“We try again?” He sighed and pressed down again, she still resisted. He struck the other arm, with the same measured force. She hissed and her exhale this time was a soft whistle. Then she laughed and explained her decision to remain disobedient. “Sorry, I’m a sucker for symmetry and I know you are too.” He rolled his eyes. It felt cruel to make this more serious than it had to be, but he had a goal. When he pressed against her again, she let her spine curl forward and flattened her chest against her thighs.

“Shira… Do you know what happens when the enemy truly finds you?” She drew a ragged breath; her forehead was against the floor. So we’re roleplaying. “You can’t help but make this a lesson can you?” She didn’t sound disappointed, she was merely stating facts. “I suppose we can no longer afford to stop training you, can we?” He wasn’t convinced by his own words, but he could see her literally swell with pride. She was lapping up any indication that reminded her of her impending relevancy. Slightly frustrated, he got up to grab a cigarette When she heard the lighter click and the air carried the dregs of the smoke, she sat up and stiffened. He thought she was triggered, which left him feeling hollow and haunted.

Then, she did something odd. She tilted her head, exposing the unscarred side of her neck. “Symmetry?” She asked, in a way that made it impossible to know if she was joking or not. Jared wished she was. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” She was… so unpredictable. “Or maybe, we can leave that for later. It can be a sample for the next training batch. The shock value should work well on the new rookies, I promise, I act well!” She twittered, relishing the idea of playing assistant in that capacity. He took a long drag. She still doesn’t even take the training seriously. “If we get any…” he replied with a certain sadness, it was getting harder to recruit candidates. “We will!” she exclaimed with her unusual optimism. Nothing could bring her down today. “I don’t remember saying that you could sit up, Shira.” She felt like testing his boundaries, to push a little, but the last time she’d done that, he went to war with some demon of his past in his nightmares. Demons he would not talk to her about. She did not want to be shut out. If he was willing to explore this side with her, she decided that she’d have to be a little gentle too. She folded against herself again. Arms behind her, head buried between slightly parted knees and her forehead inches away from the floor.

He sat down again and methodically tapped the baton against the floor. There was silence, except the baton’s tap. He contemplated a more straight-forward approach. “Shira… Do you lov-like me, or this?” “Do I have permission to speak, sir?” “Yes!” He rolled his eyes at the theatrics; it reminded him of someone who would have loved it, a ghost. “I love you because you’re you. You’ve… done whatever it took in the face of terrible odds… Sir.” The way she emphasized love did leave him feeling warm. It was an alien feeling. “Do you love me more like this though? Does it change anything between us?” She didn’t respond immediately. She could not deny that she liked the concept of being able to surrender to someone like him. Someone who could drive her to be the best she could be. That she could crave the discipline he could offer… Was that wrong?

“Shira?” “I… I can’t deny I envy you for your drive, I wish you could… share that somehow. Sir” He narrowed his eyes; it was easy to extrapolate her expectations. It did not leave him any real agency. “So, this would be entirely for you. My wishes don’t really matter.” She could hear the bite in his voice. Instead of allaying her, it only sparked an acerbic retaliation. “If you’d ever make your wishes known, maybe they would!” Though it hurt, he did not feel any anger towards her. She was right. He had rarely been afforded chances where his wishes mattered. The choices he made were rarely his. They were a product of an unfortunate situation.

“Fine. I wish for you to not take their offer.” He folded his hands. That was unexpected. She should’ve seen it coming but she’d been woefully ignorant all this time. That added to her rankled state. “What? You know I can’t do-” She started to get back up. He put his foot on her. She wanted assertion, he felt very inclined to give it to her. “Just to be clear, my wishes don’t matter then?” She wriggled under him. “They do! But why the fuck would you want me to give up my shot at glory? Do you want to be the only hero or something?” The nerve. She was so juvenile sometimes. “You think that’s what this is about?”

He reached for the controls that allowed her to use the implements and dialled them up. High enough to hurt, low enough to avoid permanent damage. A cry rose in her throat and muscles strained from the shock, killing the sound. Her arms and spine straightened with a tense contractility as the buzz of electricity surged within her, ever so briefly. This was not out of anger. This was to make a point. The electricity left and it left her limp. He held her by her hair. Jared was glad he could not see her eyes. He could wager the world that they looked right about murderous right now.

“You promi-” He pinched her face in a grip that interrupted her. “Remember, I asked what would happen if you got caught, Shira? This. They won’t play by the rules.” She struggled against him, mostly so she could get her words out. “I’ll just…” “What… swallow some carefully hidden serum? You think they’re not smart enough to look for it.” His fingers probed her mouth, to drive the point home. “Everywhere,” he emphasized. The thought of other fingers in other places darkened his own thoughts.

He shoved her away. She fell to her side, with a thud and tried to sit upright again. Crouching over her curled form, he kept her down with his arm pressed against her bruising side. “You won’t be kneeling for me, Shira, or someone you know and like, it won’t be like training.” He spoke through grit teeth. How could she not see what lay ahead? How could she just allow them to throw her into the deep end like this? Something about her mannerism softened, she stopped fighting and just lay there as he painted a grim picture, with the ink of fear. She could hear the concern now and felt petulant for thinking his intent was rooted in holding her back. His jarring reminder did serve its purpose. She realised how real things could get and bile rose in her throat. Her heart fluttered at all the hypotheticals that streaked through her mind, it left her nauseous.

“It won’t be fun and games.” He reiterated. He could see the effect of his words as her skin paled. He eased up. She immediately wrapped her legs around his waist and with surprising strength, toppled him to lay beside her on the carpet. He did not counter her move as they tangled into one another. He sighed and cradled her head with his arm. His frustration could not carry him through this. “No… I know it won’t be…” Akira steeled herself and replied. She threw herself against him, still cuffed and still blindfolded. She hoped her body could radiate the reassurance she wanted to couple with her words. “So, I’m going to need all the help I can get. I promise to take the intensive training seriously and we’ll just have to hope that it won’t come to any of that...”

He hid his face in the crook of his elbow. There was no winning against her. Not without squandering her very sense of being. Not without telling her that those outcomes are often the certainties and success is the outlier event. “If they have come to me, my Red Knight… Clearly they’re running out of options.” As appealing to his sense of duty almost always worked. Today, it still left him uneasy. He could see he had lost though. She was not going to budge. The only course of action was for her to work hard.

“You’re going to be wishing you didn’t take the offer when the intensive training actually begins, Shira.” There was a promise there, but it was not a threat. He’d just have to see how far her sheer will could carry her. He flicked her nose playfully and undid the blindfold. “Congratulations, I guess. And Happy twenty-first...” Acceptance was still hard. “Yay? Sir?” She grinned. “You’re one baffling vixen, I’ll give you that.” In a fell swoop, he picked her off the floor and took her to his bed. The cuffs and collar were still in place. “Is training starting now?” she grinned. “You bet,” he replied, only half-joking. The thunderous storm that brewed between them, only left a drizzle.

~~~

This collar felt heavy against her shoulders. She instinctively pulled against it to check its give and the length of the chain. He nudged the back of her knees with his own to make her legs buckle. Falling onto her knees hurt, she groaned through grit teeth. At least there was no glass under her here, thankfully. Resigned, she sat down on her ankles.

She heard something being twisted next to her, like a faucet. The chain attached to the collar began rolling backwards into the wall. It first pulled Akira upwards, forcing her back onto her knees. The chain continued to reel till her face was flush against the wall. Satisfied, he left and closed the door behind him. She was alone with her thoughts. Solitude beckoned tears and for the first time she was glad for the blindfold. She let out a soft growl of frustration and began chafing at the twine holding her wrists with the piece of glass she had retrieved from the floor. It was hard, given the angle of her body. But she needed something to do, to feel like she was trying. [Category: 2/3] [Tags: @simplygrimly, @cashieeetime]

#whump #interrogation #captivity #collared and cuffed #you and I me and you

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aikotoweek · 5 years ago

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A heaven before Heaven

[Cross posted from ao3]

Aikoto Week 2020- Day 3: Reunions

Aigis finds herself in a field of sunflowers.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

Her gears struggled to whirl as she desperately tried to clamber up off the floor grappling anything to pull herself in a last desperate attempt to stand. Her metal soles slipped against the hard cold floor and it wasn’t long before she finally collapsed back harshly onto her knees, if it wasn’t for the fact that she wasn’t human she was sure they would have bruised significantly. The last attack did too much damage and whatever strength she had left was purely gone. Orgia Mode just took too much.

Her mind was blurry, and so too her vision.

After the events of her sister Labrys a thick red fog had followed soon after causing its own form of the Dark Hour and they were attacked by fake shadow versions of themselves. It’s where they met back up with the unofficial Investigation Team from the unknown town of Inaba to confront the red-haired man who was responsible for not only recreating the hour of shadows but the kidnapping of her older sister.

And when she saw her sister being hijacked in front of her and knowing there was nothing she could do to fight it, the way it took over her body just like that- it brought back so many bad memories to say the least…

They thought that when they had cornered him that it was all over: but it was far from over. It had happened almost in an instant. An unknown entity took over him and they all were attacked. It was strong to say the least, incredibly strong and without the help of the wildcard powers they were easily wiped to their feet. It didn’t help that they were taken by surprise.

The man, or entity had approached her more closely now. To see Aigis’s face more clearly. It looked around before it’s eyes finally moved away from the group and rested on her. It spouted ones usual monologue, about its goal in order to restore its body and most importantly to destroy the world: about how it was now nearly successful and the world was to end in less than an hour.

How many times has it been now that she had laid broken and completely useless when people needed her the most? She had learnt over the years to not blame herself for her short comings but that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt any less.

She tried to pull herself back onto her elbows but she could barely even lift her head. She fought tougher beings before- they had fought tougher things before, gone though so much to protect mankind. So why? Why now was they falling though? How did it get so easily though their defences that they had spent a long time to perfect?

Was this really supposed to be the end after everything that has happened..?

She couldn’t think anymore, her head slumped back down on the ground. Her energy was finally gone.

Light.

And the smell of flowers.

It was bright, too bright.

And yet it didn’t hurt her eyes.

Was her eyes open or were they closed? She couldn’t tell but eventually her eyes focused and she was given the ability to see around her. But there really wasn’t much to see, in fact there wasn’t anything to see except an empty abyss of of white light. There was no ground and yet she was able to stand firmly on her legs.

Even though there was nothing something inside of her told her to walk forward.

She didn’t know where she was going. She couldn’t even remember what she was doing or why she was here. How did she get here? Where was even ‘here’..?

There was no sound or colour. No voices or people. No objects or shadows. It was completely and utterly quiet.

At first there was nothing; then there was something.

It was something small and yellow in colour which laid ahead of her, and so that’s where she went.

It became clearer and began to have more clarity the further she neared towards it. It became larger and less blurry and soon she could make out an outline of it. Eventually when she was near enough she stood in front of it and kneeled to inspect what this yellow thing was that by instinct told her to go to.

It was a sunflower.

It was small but none the less impressive or as beautiful. It was a strange but beautiful flower that she had always adored. She never knew much about flowers because it was never necessary information for fighting shadows so it was never put into her programming, but after learning much about humans she became drawn to them along with many other things that fascinate humans in the attempt that one day she will be truly able to understand them. But as her human companions had always said to her ‘it was okay if you don’t understand the way humans act’, because not even themselves ever truly knew why humans behave the way they do. It’s just how they are.

She could tell it was healthy and well looked after. It wasn’t wilted at all and its petals almost glowed. It was the most buetifulest thing that she had seen in a long time.

There was no water or soil so how was it that it was here? She moved her hand to the base of the flower to see how the plant worked and how it was that it had grown in seemingly nothing.

As soon as she touched it she became completely startled. Not by the sunflower, no, but she became startled by her own self. Her hands, they were not normal… Because they were normal..?

Her hands weren’t made of hardened cold metal, they were made of flesh and they were warm. She raised these hands to the side of her head to find that where her gears once sat were no longer present. She felt the need to gasp for oxygen something that she had never needed to do before ,though she knew that even in this state she did not need it.

The light, this flower and her seemingly human form: Did this mean that she was dead?

But then did machinery go to heaven? It made her think for a bit but then she thought about something Mitsuru and her friends used to tell her back when they had first met 'anything that had a persona was proof that they were human no matter what it may be’, it didn’t matter if they were a dog or a shadow or even a robot. She was made from a fragment of Nyx’s wing but that small fragment grew into a soul.

What was she supposed to do now though if she was dead? All of her friends… She had left them alone to fight… Something. Where where her friends? They relied on her and she had left them. She was supposed to protect them and yet she had gone and left them… What if they were already dead… Wasn’t the world supposed to be destroyed soon… Or had it already ended..?

She slowly slumped her head and locks of her hair covered her face as she thought about her friends, how she most likely failed them. She hated being so weak.

She sat there for a while before eventually moving her right hand to brush away the blonde hair and as she did she noticed something that sat a little further beyond the yellow flower.

It was a small blade of grass. Even though it was small it seemed larger to her. She walked slowly on her knees and lent over to inspect it like she had with the flower. As she hovered over it she soon saw more green blades.

One blade became two and two became a few, and these few became more. She rose to her feet and curiously followed the charming green path. She noticed as she was walking that her feet too were human in nature and she was barefoot but only noticed when she felt how it was to walk on this grass and how the blades dug into her soles. It didn’t hurt much at all like she had thought, in fact it felt almost nice, it was much nicer than she would have imagined the feeling to be.

As she travelled along the green carpet of grass it wasn’t long at all before she came across another little yellow flower. It was just as pretty as the previous one and from there she found more yellow sunflowers except for this time they were slightly taller. It wasn’t long before she found herself in a field of tall sunflowers that reacted slightly above her head.

And then she heard sound.

It was the chittering of birds and she could almost feel the sound of wings flapping in the sky and so she looked up. She hadn’t realised when but the view above her had turned into a sunny sky complete with a few scarce but soft pale clouds and birds of all colours flew in the sky leaving feathers in their wake. She couldn’t help but smile at this beautiful garden.

Then she didn’t know where to go next as the trail of grass was now lost in the towering stems. But then did it matter if she lost herself in this field, it was nice so why was there a reason for her to leave?

There wasn’t but when she had stayed there and looked at the birds for a long time a familiar butterfly had drawn her from her thoughts. It had fluttered for a few moments on a stem close to her for a few moments before taking back off and even though it couldn’t talk she had felt that it wanted her to follow it in the back of her mind.

Just like everything else she had seen she had followed it wherever it wanted to take her. She took twists and turns manoeuvring though the the flowers like a maze and eventually she had quickened her pace when she thought she had lost sight of the butterfly. She and the butterfly had emerged into a clearing, the flowers much less dense.

It looked like a well-kept garden in the centre of the clearing and following the butterfly she walked through many of thin white archways of thinly welded metal. Though it was a small stone birdbath and a white, wooden bench and a few scattered holes in the ground along with a garden shovel and bags of compost from someone who was most likely tending the sunflowers.

Before she took another step her line vision was blocked by a swam of familiar blue velvet butterflies. She had to hold herself back in order not to flinch when some got too close to her face.

The butterflies had eventually spread out into the neighbouring flowers and she was able to see again more clearly.

There on the bench was someone sitting with a large straw hat and a colourful T-shirt. She guessed they were the gardener of this place. She wasn’t sure if the other knew of her presence but when she got close enough to them they didn’t flinch but instead raised the large straw hat that had obscured their face.

…It was him.

This time she couldn’t hold herself back and raised a hand to her mouth. He looked at her pleasantly and smiled. She should be feeling sad especially at this point, her head yells it but her heart just doesn’t cooperate. Instead she feels something she has yet to describe. It would be daring to say it was relief or maybe it could be described as satisfaction or fullness, but she does however feel almost happy in her own odd way.

She takes a seat beside him and stares at him in almost shock and surprise in a welcoming silence. Eventually though she couldn’t help but break the silence between the two of them to satisfy her own curiosity.

“…You’re really here aren’t you?”

He looked at her for a moment before giving her a small nod, but she was willing not to talk about its possibilities out of fear.

“It really is quite nice here. It’s almost… Like a paradise.

May I ask where 'here’ is exactly.”

He looks a slightly less happy but far from sad. The answer he gives her sounds almost well-rehearsed. “Here. I guess you could call it in a way a 'heaven before a heaven’ or something similar I guess. If you want to know exactly, this is inside the seal.”

Her eyes widen in confusion. “How is that even possible..? Y-your seal… It was made in Taurus, it was supposed to an inpenadrable barrier. Nothing, nothing should be able to enter the seal. ” She said almost desperately, her voice raising slightly. It didn’t make any sense, was she only hearing what she wanted to hear.

He gave her a brief moment to calm down before replying. “That is true, but you are forgetting something. All living things are connected to the sea of souls; that also means that I am not exempt. ”

She opened her mouth but he cut her off(,something in which he rarely does). “It’s okay. You do not need to worry, nothing can enter here what I don’t will. She cannot enter here and so you do not need to worry about her.”

She wants to tell him though that nothing is alright, her friends are somewhere out there fighting and she is not and the world was going to end soon if it hadn’t already. How was anything okay..?

She moved her head slightly and yet those knowing grey eyes manage to meet her’s even though she was sure she had turned her head away to avoid his gaze. She’s always been drawn to him.

She scans the blue-haired boy over and she notices how he’s wearing sandals, she also notices how he looked better than he had ever been before February.

February… That was right, he had died in March. It had been years since she had seen him last.

He most have noticed her getting more sadder and so shuffled closer to her copying her same actions earlier.

“The world is not over and your friends are still alive, though they are struggling without you. ”

She feels slightly lighter but soon shakes her head. “I’m glad to hear it, but I’m- I’m dead. There’s nothing more I can do. ”

“No, you are not dead but that is only the case if you do not return. Right now you are only unconscious in the real world. Time does not fun function here as it does with yours.”

His response causes her to frown. “Why am I here though if I’m only just asleep; Why am I here?”

He doesn’t say anything for awhile: he only looks at the butterflies and the surrounding sunflowers around them. After several moments he says something to her again but does not turn his head back to face her. “I guess it would be because your resolve requires to be renewed or more simply you need to clear your mind of frustration and regret. 'Even a blind woman can tell when she’s walking in the sun’, but a blinded mind can’t. Your letting it control you, you remember when that happened.

I brought you here I guess because I wanted to show you this garden.”

She could tell he had put a lot of effort into this garden and she was glad that he had brought her here. She had her hands together in habit realising how strange they felt and soon her gaze travelled to Minato’s. She placed one of her hands down on the wooden bench. For some reason her mind was filled with the desire to touch his own hand, a desire that had long been buried in the back of her mind. He didn’t even have to look down but yet he knew exactly what she was thinking about and placed his hand on top of hers.

He sat there stunned for a bit nearly letting out a tepid gasp. In response however she entwined her fingers with his.

“If that is the case then may I do this.” She said not really in the form of a question but more of a statement than anything.

“Of course.”

They sat there for awhile her human hand together with his. With her mechanical hands she was never really able to experience the heat of a human body in the way that another biological being does, it was one of the few small things she was jealous of that humans had that she could not acquire. Eventually at some point her head had found his shoulder and he had not cared to mind the intrusion.

Time didnt really work here. For all she could know she could have been there for a thousand years.

But eventually no matter how satisfied and content she was there was anpther part of her that called out to a place far more distant than here and she knew exactly what it was.

“I see your heart is calling out to them. It’s time you return back to them. ”

Her heart saddened at the thought of leaving him again, she wanted nothing more to say by his side forever but she could not resist her calling. Though it hurt far less significantly than the first time he had left her. It was an almost calming thought though. If she had to leave him this would no doubtably be the best place to leave him.

She wanted to say goodbye but in her mind that always signified something permanent and yet a 'see you later ’ seemed too weak hearted. Instead she have him her warmest smile and lent her head on the back rest of the bench and closed her eyes as she let her heart be carried back to her friends.

Her metal sole scraped along the ground as she pulled herself to her feet.

She was right: They had fought harder things before.

#aikotoweek20 #day 3 #fanfics #submission

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btgalaxy · 6 years ago

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Moonlight ~ Jungkook wolf!au

➳ pairing: jungkook x reader

➳ genre: wolf!au, a little bit of everything tbh; angst, fluff, smut

➳ word count: 5.1k

previous / next / masterlist

Chapter 8

Days pass and there’s no response from Hobi, absolutely nothing. And after stupidly smashing your own cell phone, you’ve been stuck mooching for the landline every few hours. Jungkook has been questioning why you’re so desperate to get your own phone again, making him uneasy- as if you’re going to plan an escape or what-not- so you’re stuck creeping into his office when Jin isn’t looking to nab the house phone and lock yourself in the loo to try and dial in that same number you’re sure Hobi is ignoring.

You just want to talk to him is all. You miss having your best friend and now you’re worried. You’ve tried June as well, but no answer from that end either. At one point you thought maybe Scarlet Oak had been overturned or attacked or something awful, but a quick phone call to your dad clears that up.

“We’re fine, but I haven’t seen Hoseok in a while, love,” he sighs, regretfully, “If I see him though I’ll tell him to call you. He’s probably just upset, there’s nothing to worry about.”

You graze your teeth over your lip in contemplation, “But what if he’s hurt? What if he ran off and got hurt? What if he’s angry at me and then got hurt?”

“Poppet,” Your dad chuckles down the phone, throatily, “You’re overthinking. Don’t worry yourself. Have you tried June?”

“Yes!” You cry, “She won’t answer.”

He hums in response, pausing momentarily, “Maybe she feels a little bitter too. You know she’s not a fan of the Beta’s children, and Alpha Marcus wouldn’t be overly fond of her getting too close to any other wolves. You two were good friends.”

You sigh aloud. Maybe he’s right. Maybe it’s just too soon. It hasn’t even been a month. But you just miss them, immensely.

“But will you-“

“I’ll talk to June,” he interrupts you, “I promise. Now will you please let me get back to work? I have a patient in the next room.”

“Fine,” you grumble.

“I love you, poppet.”

A few days later and it’s approaching a week since you started trying to call him, and you’ve still not received even so much as a text to signal he’s actually alive. You swear to God when you get a hold of him you’ll scream at him for not answering you for so long and putting you through this.

Ambling into the kitchen after yet another failed call, you trudge over to the fridge, pulling back the door and immediately picking up a can of cream soda to go alongside a pint of ice-cream which you intend to overpower your misery with. Maybe a chick flick as well. What the hell, you might as well go all out.

Your legs curl underneath you on the sofa with the blanket bunching up at your sides as you cocoon yourself underneath the beige cotton, happily gulping down your soda while flicking through Jungkook’s Netflix account. You become more interested in what he’s been watching though, rather than what you will be, and you come to the conclusion he must have extremely poor film choices; limited mainly to Alien and Godzilla, and a few other generic action sci-fi movies.

Another twenty minutes of poking around in his TV choices too- again, tremendously underwhelming- you choose some new rom-com and slump further into the cushions, sinking deeply. It feels like it’s been a lifetime since you felt this relaxed.

“Luna?” You turn your head in the direction of Jin’s voice from behind the couch. “Alpha should be home soon, so I’m headed off- unless you needed anything?” You shake your head no in response, and are about to dismiss him before you remembered the other day’s events.

You know you couldn’t ask Jungkook much about his personal or pack life, or lack thereof, due more so because of his own attitude rather than his Alpha title. It is at this point you realise just how little you actually know about Jungkook, your own mate.

“Luna?” Your spiralling thought process is interrupted by an awaiting Jin and you are quick to snap from your trance.

“Wait, actually Jin, can I ask you something?” He steps closer towards you and nods his head, signalling you to proceed. “You never told me what a code green was.” You can visibly see Jin’s thought process, etching into his expression as he searches for the right words.

“Code greens are nothing to worry about, Luna. Just a minor attack is all. Code blacks are when we should worry.” His jokey tone and attempt to lighten the situation only further peaks your curiosity.

“Well then what’s a code black?” You tilt your head in confusion and Jin falters under your gaze.

“I’m sorry Luna, I don’t know if I should-“ Upon noticing his hesitation, you try to change the subject. You’ve already gotten him into enough trouble to with your mate, the guilt still present although you two are beginning to get on better terms.

“So, he’s coming home early? Is there something happening?” You question, glancing at the clock to confirm you hadn’t lost track of time.

“Nothing special that I know of,” Jin informs you, a slight blush creeping up his neck as he recalls the compromising position he caught you and Jungkook in the other night.

“Oh...okay. Well, enjoy the rest of your night.” Dismissing him, you turn back towards the TV, now anticipating your mate’s arrival.

You want to get to know him so much better than you do, and how you’ll go about that you’ve not a clue, but surely a destined relationship like this should consist more of just arguments and make-ups and other frenzied kisses and what-not. Actually, you don’t really want to think about this right now, so instead you allow yourself to fall lax in the seat, limbs falling off the side of the couch.

Before you know it, your eyes flutter shut and you drift off into sleep, mind still racing with questions about your mate.

Suddenly, a muscled arm snakes around your neck and pulls you out of your slumber, and you feel a kiss pressed firmly to the side of your face.

“Hey,” Jungkook mumbles into your cheek as you giggle and squirm away.

“Stop,” you laugh, pushing at his head so he moves back to walk around to the front of the couch, “When did you get home?”

He plonks himself down next to you, grabbing you by the waist and hoisting you into his lap, “Only a few minutes ago- I thought I’d come back a bit earlier to spend some time with my mate.”

Your face heat at his words, a subtle rose blooming on the apples of your cheeks, “Stop it.”

“Stop what?” He smiles, squeezing you against him tighter.

“Embarrassing me,” you groan, curling your feet in discomfort.

“What’s embarrassing?”

“Stop!”

“Tell me, gorgeous,” he smirks at you, revelling in the effect he has on you as you hide your face beneath your hands, groaning again as he leans in closer till you’re overwhelmed by his scent surrounding you. Slowly, he pulls your hands away from your face, gently taking your chin to pull it towards him and press a measured kiss to your lips, loving enough to make your stomach flip and heart lurch.

When you pull back with a smile, he rubs his thumb along your cheek, “What’d you do today?”

“Slept till midday, called my dad, the usual,” you sigh, snuggling into his chest as he holds you.

“How is he?”

“He’s alright,” you manoeuvre on his lap, uncomfortably fiddling with your fingers before going on to say: “He said he hasn’t seen Hobi in a while.”

Jungkook stiffens instinctively at the name, tucking his arms possessively around your legs till he has you in his complete control, “Hasn’t he?”

You can feel his wolf snarling beneath his skin, and you’re reminded of that first meeting where the Alpha inside of him fully took control, “No… and I’ve tried to call June, but she isn’t answering.”

“Marcus’ daughter?”

You hum in response, grazing your eyes over your lap, then fleetingly at Jungkook. He’s still got that primitive possessiveness bubbling in him like a cauldron that doesn’t seem to be budging, but he’ll have to overcome it at some point. You’ve known Hobi and June all your life and Jungkook barely a couple of months. It’s clear he’s more irked by the thought of you being with men and this fantasy he adopts that every man pines after you, but he seems to get jealous over the idea of you spending time with females too, just devoting time and attention to anyone but him. It’s needy and clingy, and he never shows that side of him except to you, so not even Jin will believe that he’s truly like it, but really it’s childish. He’s childish, but you just have to deal with it till he finally sees you aren’t going to betray him, nor push him aside for anyone else. You’re his, and he’s yours.

“I could try and contact him for you? Demand she contact you?” He offers, but you roll your eyes with a humourless laugh.

“Love, I don’t think ordering her about will help.” You use the pet name deliberately, purposefully, in an attempt to soothe him and bring back the loving tone to the conversation, and, surprisingly, it works. A smile he clearly tries to suppress bites at his lips till his teeth blare in a shy grin and you could almost squeal in delight. The mighty Alpha of Red Moon embarrassed by a pet name. Cute.

“We can call her again tomorrow,” he tells you, nuzzling his nose into your neck, his breath tickling enough for you to have to stiffen your shoulders and bring them up to your head.

“You mean I’ll try to call her again tomorrow. I imagine you have more Alpha things to do?” You tease slightly, but it’s also true. He’s always working; as an Alpha does, should do. You never appreciated the overwhelming sheer quantity of tasks an Alpha is naturally subject to; acting on pack complaints, sorting quarrels, organising events, minding pack accounts. It’s a lot for one man to carry the weight of on his shoulders. No wonder he gets stressed the way he does.

“If only you’d let me officialise you, we could do them together.” He tries to negotiate, but you see right through him, getting up knowingly off his lap and striding into the kitchen at a quicker pace, ice-cream in hand, headed straight for the freezer.

“Why’d you get up?” He whines, quickly jogging after you to encase you in his arms so you have to waddle to the door. You groan as you pull it back, sticking out your behind to nudge him back with a deep grunt.

“You know I said I wanted more time- and you know it’s not even been a week so it’s too soon,” you announce with a chastising pinch to his arm, making him jolt back with a frown before he leans back into you, aching for contact again already.

“Fine, I won’t go on about it, if you’ll stop calling that wolf from Scarlet Oak,” he says, with an amusing negotiable tone. As if it were up for negotiation.

“Jungkook!” You nearly laugh at his incredulousness.

“I don’t want to share you with him,” he moans, nuzzling into your neck with his hands finding purchase possessively on your waist.

You smirk at him teasingly, “Needy pup.”

“Only for you.”

The next day you wake up with a heavy limb slung lazily across your waist, keeping you in place. You roll over to see your mate’s face, golden tan skin looking untouchable against the plush silk pillowcases, practically inviting you to press a brief kiss to those pink lips. You curl into his touch and he instinctively responds by tightening his grip around you and tugging you closer to feel the body heat emanating from his flesh. Wolves naturally have a higher body temperature than humans, by four or five degrees, and an Alpha even more so, so he truly feels like your own personal hot water bottle. You trace your lips over his shoulder cautiously, enjoying the serenity strewn indolently across his features, but your actions, however, are interrupted by a sudden shrill blasting from downstairs. The ringing of the landline. The landline that is never called. The landline that Hobi will call.

You’re on your feet before Jungkook can even open his eyes.

You pace down the stairs at an unimaginable speed, nearly stumbling on your way as you launch onto the ground at the bottom of the staircase, slipping to the side on the hardwood floor in your white socks. You spin on your heel, ungracefully darting into Jungkook’s office with unparalleled ferocity blazing in your eyes, determined to reach that phone before the ringing ceases. And you do.

“Hello?” You pant into the phone, hearing a gentle patter of feet from above; the whole ruckus having awoken your mate. “Hobi? Is it you?”

You can hear the sound of breathing on the other end of the line, softly exhaling with a feminine sigh.

“Y/N, it’s me,” June’s voice rings like a chorus of church bells, and you feel relief wash through your veins like a blessing.

“June, oh my God, where have you been? I’ve tried calling you for days!” You relent, a sleepy Jungkook trudging in as you speak, “What about Hobi? Is he there?”

Jungkook frowns over from the doorway, confused why you raced downstairs at such an alarming pace, but you ignore his grimacing and focus solely on the voice echoing down the line.

“No, no he isn’t. I just- I needed some time to myself. I-“ She swallows loudly, loud enough for you to hear it on the phone, unnerving you.

“You what?”

She pauses briefly, before choking out, “Yoongi ended it with me.” She begins to cry, and all you want to do is run back to Scarlet Oak and go straight to wherever she is and cuddle her until she feels better, until she forgets whatever that arsehole must’ve done.

“June…”

“Is your mate there?” She bites back the tears for a second, an inelegant sob forcing it itself from her throat.

“Uh, yeah he is.” Jungkook perks up in curiosity, beginning to move closer to you till you hold out your hand in front of you, signalling him to stop.

“Can I- can I speak to you alone?”

You look at Jungkook fleetingly, grazing your teeth across your lips in contemplation. He’s not going to like it. He’s told you outright he doesn’t want you to keep anything like this from him before, and you honestly feel subconsciously a tiny bit irritated June is putting you in this situation, but you also have to consider what she’s feeling. And you wouldn’t want any of her friends or her mate listening in to a personal conversation between the two of you, so, with a sigh, you respond.

“Yeah, of course. Just a minute.” You bring the phone down and press the mute button, exhaling as Jungkook looks at you inquisitively.

“What’s she saying?” He interrogates, striding towards you in spite of the hand you raised signalling him not to come closer.

“She said,” you begin, as he sits on the edge of his desk, “She wants to speak to me alone?”

“Why would she say that?” He retorts, automatically becoming defensive and protective, his wolf vexed by one of your friends telling you he can’t be here.

“She’s just upset and wants to talk to me without you snooping around.”

“I’m Alpha, I do as I want,” he counters childishly, adopting an adamant facial expression.

You roll your eyes, gesticulating towards the door, “Out. You have work to do anyway, you told me last night. Go do it and I’ll tell you about this later.”

He purses his lips and flares his nostrils, a sign he really cannot conceal his anger from you even if he tries, then reluctantly stalks out in a strop, not sparing you a second glance. He’ll have to get over it; you’re allowed your own space whether he likes it or not. He’s going to have to accept it when your own study is ready too- which will be entirely off limits to any Red Moon Alpha lurking about.

You press the unmute button and bring the phone back to your ear, “June, he’s gone.”

“Thank you.” Upon hearing the sincerity in her tone, you lean forwards onto the surface of the desk, waiting for her to continue.

“I’m sorry I never called… truly. I know you know about Hoseok and I, and I’m so sorry that happened. I know we’re both unmated, but still I understand why it was wrong and why you’d be angry at me- at both of us.”

“I’m not angry,” you insist, but she ignores you and carries on.

“Yoongi broke up with me the day you left, only a few hours after we said goodbye, and I was just angry that you found your beautiful Alpha mate and the one man I thought I loved and loved me back dropped me like a lead balloon and I was just so hurt and I didn’t have my best friend here and I needed comfort and I- we- well Hoseok was sad too and he was there and… I assume you get the picture.”

You nod to yourself grimly, scrunching up your nose in distaste, “I do.”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry everything happened that way.”

“It’s alright, June,” you tell her, “I know it must’ve been difficult.”

In fact, you know exceedingly well how difficult it is to feel hurt and alone without anyone to talk to. More than she’ll ever know.

“Y/N, I’ve missed you so much. So much.” You can hear her cries again, “I’ve wanted to talk to you since the moment you called Hoseok that night.”

“Me too,” you respond, truthfully. “I’ve missed you more than words can say. I’ve got so much to tell you.” She laughs a little amongst her tears in response. It really is all you’ve been thinking about, even more so since the incident with Jungkook. The sound of a faint door slamming signals your mate’s leaving, and you sigh aloud at his trivial nature all of a sudden. Is he really that angry you wouldn’t let him eavesdrop?

The two of you fall unusually quickly into your old routine of gossipy conversations after overcoming the awkward breakup barrier. It’s a nice feeling to know throughout all of this, your friendship should always survive and flourish even though you’re hundreds of miles away from her. She tells you about Alpha Marcus’ new plans to reinvent the pack house so it’s more accessible, and you tell her all about Red Moon and Jin and life away from Scarlet Oak.

“What’s it like? Living with your mate? It must be incredible to be leader of the house- of your own pack now, even,” she gushes.

You settle further into the sofa in the lounge you’ve moved to- after about half an hour in Jungkook’s office you began to feel a bit claustrophobic so retreated to the open living room- and adjust a pillow on your lap, “It’s actually nice. At first it was daunting and… I suppose there were a few obstacles we had to- overcome, but it’s nice to have someone that loves me, that will only ever love me. Granted, he seems to be damn sure I’m going to cheat on him or something. He’s so jealous all the time.”

She laughs throatily down the line, “He’s an Alpha, what’d you expect? Dad was the same about mum when they first met- it’ll get better with time. By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask- I assume he’s marked you?”

“Yes…,” you frown, unsurely.

“And mated?”

Your breath hitches in your throat at her bluntness. You haven’t even thought about the mating process since your reconciliation and even that was brief and clouded by that heated kiss you shared; that interrupted kiss you shared. Jungkook hasn’t mentioned anything about it to you, nor tried to initiate anything other than loving kisses and cuddles, so you haven’t thought about it. His wolf must be urging him though, to try something. You’re surprised your own wolf has gone so long without giving in to one of his gentle caresses of your cheek.

“No… actually we haven’t,” you admit, somewhat ashamed of your lack of intimacy with him.

“Really?” She sounds genuinely shocked.

You stammer over excuses in your head, “It- it just hasn’t been the right time.”

“Oh…” It falls awkwardly silent as you search for a new conversation topic. She must think he isn’t attracted to you, or that you’re to scared, or maybe something terrible. Any other Alpha and Luna pairing would mate as soon as possible, under the influence of the hormones released to make them desire each other more- or in other words just make them horny as hell so they can’t keep their hands off of each other. And suddenly you feel a tiny bit self-conscious. Doesn’t he want you like that?

“Y/N, don’t overthink it,” June interrupts your thoughts.

“What?”

“I know what you’re like. I shouldn’t have brought it up. He probably just wants to take his time. You wouldn’t want it to be meaningless, like Hoseok and I.” She tries to justify his actions, but you just don’t want to listen. The sound of Hobi’s name, however, peaks your interest again.

“Wait, have you seen Hobi recently?”

June’s rambling ceases at the question, “Hoseok?”

“June, who else.” You roll your eyes at her horrific obliviousness.

“Hoseok,” she repeats, again, “Actually, Y/N, he took off a while ago.”

It’s like the blood drains from your face, leaving you blank, “He what?”

“He told me an opportunity had arisen, and I was so upset about Yoongi I didn’t think he meant leaving Scarlet Oak altogether. Y/N I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I just didn’t want you to worry and you have so much on your plate with-“ You don’t even let her finish before hanging up the phone and jumping to your feet.

Hobi? Gone? It’s almost a quiet confirmation of all your worries coming true. That he’s gone, hurt, dead. How could he do this? How could he leave Scarlet Oak? That pack is his home, he was raised on that land, raised with you. You never should have left him. You should’ve stayed and made sure he was okay before dropping everything to be with your mate. You knew he loved you, and it must have killed him to see you leave like that. You feel inexorably selfish.

Before you can think, you’re picking up the phone again to dial in the number of the only person you could think that could help you right now. The only person that has the ability to try and fix your mistakes.

“Alpha Taehyung? It’s Y/N,” you breath down the phone, biting your lower lip nervously.

“Y/N? What is it? Has something happened? Is it Jungkook?” His words are frantic and frenzied, and after knowing what Jungkook did to you the last time you spoke his panic is undoubtedly justified.

You begin stammering over your words, “No, no, no it’s fine everything’s fine, it’s just- Alpha-“

“I told you to call me Taehyung,” he interrupts.

“Oh, right, sorry, Taehyung.”

“Don’t apologise. What is it?” You sit back down into the settee, running one hand up and down your thigh to calm your racing nerves.

“There’s something I need help with, kind of urgently. My friend- a friend from Scarlet Oak- he’s missing.”

He repeats, “Missing?”

The words begin tumbling out of your mouth unstoppably amongst your anxiety, “I just called my old Alpha’s daughter, and she told me he hasn’t been seen since I left. And I’m worried he could be hurt or worse, and- and I just need some peace of mind,” you plea, “Please.”

“Right,” he pauses, “And I assume this ‘he’ is not someone Jungkook can take care of?”

“He’s too jealous to see I care about him only in a brotherly way.” Your tone becomes irritated, reflecting your mood regarding Jungkook thoroughly, “I really need you to do this Taehyung, please.”

“Y/N, of course. There was no doubt about it from the second you called, I promise,” he ensures you, and you relax into the seat with relief, “I’ll always be here for you.”

“Taehyung, I appreciate you more than words can say.” You could cry with happiness.

“I’ll get on it straight away.”

“Thank you so much,” you exhale, “And if we could keep this from Jungkook just for a bit then I’d-“

Suddenly, the phone is ripped away from your hands by a blazing Alpha, barking profanities down the line at Taehyung before you can even consider protesting. Everything blurs underneath the sheer volume of Jungkook screaming at that man, and you feel the guilt hit you like bricks and make your mouth dry. Only seconds pass before he hangs up the phone, pointing it at you with an unimaginable vehemence beneath a killer grip to make his knuckles whiten.

“You can forget using this phone ever again,” he snarls, blaring his canines looking ready to pierce into flesh.

You almost gasp in response, “Jungkook!”

“No!” He thunders at you, with a fury ignited in his eyes, “You knew how I felt about that fucking Alpha and you just called him on my own fucking phone! What are you trying to do? Plan another escape with him? You got another fucking thing coming if that’s what you’re thinking.” He begins stalking towards his office at a speed you cannot keep up with, scrambling to your feet to trail behind him with a red face from the anger you similarly feel towards him.

“Hobi’s missing!” You finally scream at him, unleashing the ball of anger that’s accumulated inside of you.

“Fuck that damn wolf always taking up your fucking attention!” He yells back, completely ignorant to the fact your closest friend could be absolutely anywhere.

“Don’t be such a child, you idiot, I cared about him long before you!” He slams the door in your face before you’re able to continue, abruptly locking you out and leaving you fuming in the corridor.

You, however, are far from done.

Your fists clench as you begin pounding them against the door relentlessly, resolute not to allow him to shut you out like this and throw these trifling tantrums.

“If you don’t open this door right now I swear to God I’ll run into town and find a new mate that’ll actually help me if you won’t!” You can hear his growling turn feral, but for some reason amongst all this anxiety and anger it only fuels this rage you’ve become engrossed in.

“We aren’t even mated technically! You don’t seem to have any fucking interest in that so maybe Jimin would actually be attracted to me, or Taehyung seems to be especially fond.”

The door flings back and Jungkook bolts into you, driven by a ferocious anger-induced lust to hastily grab your chin and slam his lips against yours, pressing his entire self against you. It’s wrong for anything to happen this way, and you’re more than aware of that, so you don’t let it last long before pulling back as his arms snake to your back.

He growls into your neck, raking his teeth over the mark before returning to your lips, a frown riddled into his features.

“Fucking stop saying shit like that. I can’t deal with it,” He mumbles against your mouth, squeezing your backside with a firm look on his face.

Your body responds to his touch despite your fury, “You confiscated the damn phone and my best friend is missing, what was I supposed to do?”

“Not call Taehyung.”

“Well you wouldn’t help me if –“

“Do you ever just shut up?” He barks, kissing you open-mouthed and sliding his tongue against yours. It feels so much more intense beneath such fury to kiss like this, thus for a second you allow it, savouring the way he nips at your lower lip to then massage it with the wet muscle and make you feel desired, the way you didn’t feel earlier, but again, it doesn’t last long.

“Stop kissing me, we need to talk about this,” you insist, shoving him away and striding into the office with a newly-found determination steering you to take the ‘confiscated’ phone from the desk and hold it next to your chest.

“First of all, you aren’t taking away phone rights. That isn’t even a thing. You can’t come storming in all angry jealous and then start throwing about orders like that,” you remark, holding an unwavering gaze on his infuriated figure.

“Well don’t call Taehyung.”

“Second of all,” you ignore his comment, “You need to get over this jealousy. It’s too much and I don’t like feeling as if I’m being owned like a piece of property. I’ve given you as much as I can, as much as I am able to, but for you to carry on treating me like the last piece of meat is just too much.”

He falters momentarily, digesting your words and thinking up his own response.

It’s a breath of fresh air to finally see him actually listen to you, and actually process what you’re saying. Maybe one day you’ll get to the point where the two of you could sit down and have a real conversation about things before letting them get out of hand and arguing till your heads hurt. But perhaps that’s a bit much to ask.

About a minute or so later and he finally rolls his eyes in exasperation, moving to take you into his arms. You go to struggle away, but he holds you tighter against him.

“I’ll find out where that damn dog is, alright? Just come to bed with me, I need to sleep away for a bit this fucking migraine.” You gasp before smiling up at him thankfully, jumping up into him with a grin and launching into his arms.

“Thank you!” You could squeal at his agreement, but he just grumbles in response, far keener to avoid the topic for now and just hold you in his arms till you can both sleep away the memory of yet another argument.

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