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mae-gi-writes · 3 years

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Une Premiere | Ju Haknyeon (The Boyz Christmas Series)

La Joie De Noel Series.

'Une Premiere' : A First, included in the expression ‘That’s a first’.

In which you and Haknyeon go on a first date on Christmas Eve.

things to know: - moelleux au chocolat : molten chocolate cake. It has a liquidy chocolate sauce inside.

I dedicate this story to: @atbzkingdom , Dee, thank you for always bringing me comfort and for always having my back. Being friends with you on Tumblr has helped me so much this year and I wanted to write this fic for you as a gift. So I hope you like it <3

-♡-

The warmth of Haknyeon’s hand on yours was burning through your palm and making it sweat bullets even though the cold was busy biting at the rest of your body.

You were surprised that he hadn’t pulled away in disgust yet. Your mind was internally screaming at you: you had one job Y/N, and that was not to make a fool of yourself!

You wouldn’t have been in such a state if not for the sudden inclination of such events tumbling one after another so that they left you feeling dizzy with euphoria, in a mess of feelings that made you want to squirm in place.

When Haknyeon had proposed to you that it was about time you’d had a first date with him -- he had confessed his feelings a few weeks ago and ever since there was this unknown, unspoken feeling that teetered between the two of you as though you were constantly balanced on a plate about to crash at any moment -- you had agreed wholeheartedly without thinking twice about the consequences that followed.

Like right now, when you were practically unable to function because he’d intertwined his fingers with yours like it was the most normal thing he could’ve done.

You wondered whether he could hear the way your heart seemed to palpitate within your chest like a ping pong ball.

Y/N you loser. Get a grip.

The Christmas Eve market was bustling with people and shining with lights that were strung, multi-coloured LEDs adorning the pedestrian cobblestone and turning the scene in a fairytale wonderland. You could hear music, Christmas jingles that floated through the air, and managed to somewhat relax despite your initial nervousness around the said young man.

"Oh look, they have Christmas cookies,” Haknyeon tugged you along to one of the stands where a multitudes of red, green and white Christmas cookies were displayed for the occasion.

“Three for five dollars!” The girl beamed while handing out samples.

“Woah it’s good,” your eyes rounded in surprise as you looked at Haknyeon, who chuckled at your expression, “we could buy some for your grandma. She likes Christmas cookies doesn’t she?”

His thoughtfulness for your own grandmother made your heart soften. He was so considerate that you wondered how someone as angelic as Haknyeon could walk this earth.

Precisely one of the reasons why you’d fallen for him so hard.

After thanking the cookie seller and stuffing one of her Christmas cookies boxes in your bag, you followed the string of people down the line of stands filled with various Christmas-themed items; decorations for sale, gift ideas already wrapped up in their respective bags, food items that would make good appetizers for your own family dinner if you hadn’t already prepared anything.

"Oh my gosh they’re all so pretty!” You couldn’t stop yourself from exclaiming as you crouched along the row with barely restrained excitement thrumming through your veins, “what do you think? Look at this one!” you held out a glittering gold angel silhouette, “your sister would love that.”

“Yeah. Unfortunately she’s at that stage where she likes to shove everything in her mouth, edible or not,” Haknyeon grumbled softly, causing you to giggle as you tried to hang it off his ear.

He eyed you with amusement, “Do I look like Christmas tree material?”

"More like boyfriend material,” the words slipped from your mouth before you could stop them, though he just burst out laughing before tugging you closer to drop a kiss at your temple, “you’re so cute.”

Face burning with heat at his bold action, you tried your best not to show your embarrassment, which proved to be useless since he noted the way you ducked your head away and how your hands seemed to pick at your nails in that adorable way of yours whenever you weren’t sure of what you should be doing.

Deciding to warm yourselves up, you decided to stop by one of the cozy coffee shops that sold only Chocolate-themed desserts. Haknyeon’s excitement doubled when you confessed you’d never actually been to this place, quickly whipping the menu from your hands and promising that this was going to change your life forever.

“You’re in for the biggest surprise of your life,” he stated upon spotting the waitress making her way to your table. You had not failed to notice, in all this flurry of excitement, that his hand had entangled once more if yours under the table and was now currently rubbling circles over your palm.

You hoped that your face didn’t betray the way your heart was racing about hundred miles an hour.

“Y/N,” he probably noticed your expressions, “you okay?”

“Y-Yeah,” oh shit. Were you that obvious? “so what’s so special about that place anyway?”

“I’ll tell you later,” and his hand squeezed yours softly, almost making you gasp at his tenderness.

A few minutes later your table was filled with a moelleux au chocolat and a macha-dark chocolate infused crepe garnished with bananas and snow sugar, accompanied by two hot macha lattes decorated with foamy little kittens.

Haknyeon didn’t hesitate to feed you, even folding the crepe nicely so that there was no need for you to open your mouth wide. Though you made a face at being babied (especially in public), he just insistently kept on urging you until you gave in.

“Good?” he tilted his head, watching you with affection practically brimming through the corners of his eyes.

You nodded, taking a quick sip of your latte and sighing in bliss, “okay, you win. This is really good.”

“Told you it would.”

You cut into the moelleux as the chocolate oozed out of the cake, a delicious sight really. You reached over the table, “your turn now.”

Haknyeon accepted your offered fork though from the reddish tips of his ears, he was just as embarrassed as you were. This was the first time you two were out in public, officially anyway. Still, you couldn’t help but coo at how cute he was.

“I’m not cute,” he scowled while unable to keep the grin off his face, “you’re the cute one in the relationship.”

“That’s debatable,” you take another bite of the crepe, “have you seen yourself?”

“Actually I have, and I disagree with you.”

Without warning, he reached over to pinch your cheek, “look at you, so adorable,” he said, laughing as you swatted him away.

It was getting closer to midnight by the time you two hopped off the last night bus to walk towards your house, the streets alight with golden hues cast by the light posts and the snow that bathed the entire scenery in magic. A muffled silence rang through your ears, only interrupted by the soft stomping of your boots up your porch as you looked up and perceived the darkness coming from your humble abode, meaning that everyone was already asleep and no prying eyes would be peeping out at you.

Haknyeon’s grip on your hand tightened ever so slightly when you finally reached your door. Turning to meet his gaze, a small smile tilted your lips upwards when you are met with his eyes that seem to shine brighter than the snowflakes falling to the earth.

“I had a lot of fun today,” you murmur out, scared that speaking too loudly would break the magical bubble you’ve created with Haknyeon by your side, “thank you.”

"Would you...” he tilted his head to the side, eyes averting for a second before locking with yours once more, “would you be okay to do this again?”

You knew it was eating him up on the inside, but you decide to drag it out of him, pressing your lips and drawing out a hum as if you were thinking it over.

Haknyeon just shuffled uncomfortably, glad that the darkness was hiding the red flush creeping up his neck.

“Sure,” you grinned then, “why not? I quite liked it--”

And that was when you spotted a gleaming sliver of leaf atop Haknyeon’s head. Your mind stuttered to a stop, heart jumping up through your throat.

“What?” Haknyeon frowned at your shocked face, before tilting his head up. You scrambled to stop him, “don’t!--”

Too late. He gaped at the mistletoe hanging atop his head, blinking slowly.

And when his head dipped back down slowly to gaze at you, something in his eyes had shifted. His orbs a darker, glimmering obsidian as he seemed to trace your features for a full minute.

Silence. You wondered whether he could hear how your heart was beating a thousand miles an hour.

“It’s just a petty tradition,” you finally found your voice and hoped you didn’t sound so desperate as you struggled to string a coherent sentence together, “I mean, really. Think about it--”

But he only tugged you closer, causing your words to die in the back of your throat as he leaned down so that his nose brushed yours softly, “should we just...” he gave you a look, hesitantly licking his lips and making you swallow, “humour it?”

It felt like all air had constricted inside your lungs so that no words could make their way out of your mouth. He was so close, chest brushing yours and his hand entangled with your own in a firm grasp that had goosebumps skitter up along your arm.

Your head dipped into a nod.

Haknyeon’s sigh was shaky. His other hand softly skimmed along your waist to pull you closer still, before he tilted his head and softly, tenderly allowed his lips to touch yours.

Your heart skipped a beat. He was so warm. His lips so soft.

It was impossible not to melt slightly.

When it was clear that you had no intentions of pushing him away, Haknyeon proceeded to pull you even closer so that your curves blended into his frame, causing your lips to part with a soft gasp, one that he swallowed as he proceeded to kiss you a little deeper, a little longer. He massaged your lips with his own plush ones, catching your lip, kissing it, before going to your lower lip and letting his teeth nibble on the patch of skin with growing endearment. The sensation had sparks fly through your chest, butterflies practically rocking through your body as your lips gently moved back against his, as shyly as a baby fawn taking its first steps and Haknyeon would be lying to say that his own heart hadn’t leapt in excitement at how innocent you were, at the purity of your kiss, your lips.

When you parted, it was only to come up for air and he took this chance to run his thumb over your lower lip in adoration.

“Merry Christmas Y/N,” he breathed, nuzzling the side of your face before burying his nose into your hair.

Your hands wound around him in a gentle hug and you closed your eyes, allowed yourself to feel his warmth encircle you, “merry christmas Hak.”

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chemartsblog · 4 years

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Wide Enough

Pairing: Sokka/Zuko

Tags: PWP, ABO Dynamics

Based on the Avatar Kink Meme Prompt: Zuko taking a very large, wide, dildo. Gasps and whimpers and maybe even a bit of weeping as it is put into him slowly. With a robe on, when he stands? From the right angle his spread cheeks give the illusion of hips, and the girth forces him to walk almost like a woman.

(And spirits help him if he can make himself tight enough for his partner/master tonight...)

The bedroom air seems to tingle with electricity and heat. Zuko is in a short glossy red silk robe that just barely covers his ass; his skin is gleaming under the firelight. His hair is still damp from the shower, the scent of fire-lilies and jasmines wafting through the room. He waits with a palpitating heart for his beloved. Already he can feel the slick start to dampen the robes, but he can’t wait; he can’t stop thinking about what’s to come.

The fullness, the release of his tight control, his beloved’s arms around him, his scent filling his every pore.

He shudders, hands moving down his chest, stroking his erect nipples. His thighs press close together, closing in on his omega cocklet, letting him feel the sweet friction against his leaking member. He might not be in heat, but he can still feel the fire licking under his skin just thinking of what’s to come.

“Someone’s excited.”

Zuko turns to the door and whimpers. Sokka’s standing in the doorway, blue eyes stormy as he takes in Zuko. His mouth slightly parted as he breathes in the scent of fire-lilies and jasmine. He closes the heavy door with a resounding thunk, and stalks forward.

His big strong hands grip Zuko’s hips and pulls him close, flush against the water tribesman. The Fire Lord swallows thickly when he feels the hot erection pressed against this abdomen. Sokka looks down on him with hungry predatory eyes.

“You smell lovely.” He whispers gracing his nose lightly over Zuko’s hair. “What did I ever do to deserve someone like you?”

That should be Zuko’s question. Eight years after the end of the hundred-year war, and Zuko still doesn’t know how he got so lucky to have Sokka in his life. He wraps his arms around Sokka’s neck and presses his nose to the tanned skin.

It’s the smell of the sea, of metal and fire, and of home. But underneath all those familiar scents is the musky smell of Rut. It makes him keen and rub himself against the thick erection straining against Sokka’s pants. He wants. He wants so bad.

But Sokka’s patient, even with the rut. He pulls Zuko back, one hand cupping his cheek and the other massaging his plush ass. “Shh not yet darling.” He says. “You’re not prepped yet.”

Zuko whines, “Sokka, please please. I want it soon.” His ass is already clenching and twitching. Slick coating his thighs.

Sokka smiles and strokes his thumb over Zuko’s lips. “I know. If I could I’d have you already thrown on the bed and putting your pretty ass on my cock. But we have to prep first.”

The pale man swallows. His heartbeat shoots up, and he trembles with anticipation. Sokka pulls away and goes to the drawers, he takes out a bottle of lube, and a long thick dildo. The sight makes Zuko’s mouth water. Sokka walks to him with a knowing look.

“Turn around and put your hands on the wall.” He commands.

Zuko turns without question; his shaking hands reach out to balance himself against the wall as he leans forward so his ass is presented before Sokka. The alpha sighs, enamored by the beautiful sight of his love presenting so prettily for him.

“Good omega.” He praises. It makes Zuko’s belly flutter and fill with heat.

Sokka’s hands caress the silk clad ass and flips the material over so that he can see the bare pale skin and leaking hole. His dick is heavy throbbing at the sight of his love’s beautiful alabaster ass, but he pushes down the desire. He kneels and leans his face forward, the scent of Zuko getting stronger as noses against the seam of his butt and then he parts the cheeks and sucks.

Zuko moans wantonly when he feels Sokka’s tongue breach his hot slick hole. The velvety walls clenching around his tongue and slick gushing against his mouth. Sokka laps it all eagerly, letting the taste of Zuko envelope him. He keeps sucking and licking his way around the sweet sweet ass. His hands gripping the plush globs tightly.

He wants to them to leave bruises when he’s done with the beautiful Fire Lord. He wants Zuko to remember this touch when he sits on his throne and pretends not to be aroused as he addresses his ministers. The ghost of Sokka’s grip, his tongue, his dick teasing the man until he’s desperately wet and begging Sokka to help him. Please.

Sokka’s pulling away, but Zuko whines as he tries to push his ass back against his face. The darker man chuckles and puts a hand on his back.

“Soon, love soon.” He promises as he coats his fingers in lube. Zuko may be wet and slick, but Sokka wants to make sure his omega is comfortable. He stands and drapes himself over the smaller man’s back. He teasingly rubs his clothed cock against Zuko, making the other man glare at him.

“S-stop t-teasing me.” he stutters. Zuko’s face is flushed red, sweat making his skin dewy and reflecting the soft light of the room. Sokka chuckles and lets his fingers rub against Zuko’s hole.

“Sorry darling. I can’t help it.” He says unabashedly. With that he plunges two fingers in, relishing the feel of his walls bearing down against him. Zuko moans and sighs happily as his hole is filled again. Sokka’s fingers are magic. He knows Zuko’s body well and twist those clever digits to rub and thrust against the spots that make the other man see stars. From the musical sounds of Zuko’s moaning and gasping, he knows it’s working well.

“Feeling good?” Sokka asks.

“Yes~. More please.”

At that he puts another two fingers in stretching the elastic puffy hole. He marvels at the way Zuko’s body seems to suck in his fingers. They glisten with his slick and lube. Zuko’s flush face is another beautiful marvel. His cheek is pressed flush against the wall, long hair falling away around his neck. His golden eyes are glazed and clouded with bliss, pink lips are open and glistening.

The desire is coursing through his bloodstream. His cock is aching in the confines of his pants, but he waits. He must be patient. No matter how amazingly appetizing Zuko looks, he needs to wait and prepare. He would never want to hurt his beloved.

After a few more thrusts, Sokka takes out his wet sticky fingers and takes out the dildo. He liberally coats it with lube and presses a kiss against Zuko’s neck.

“Are you ready, my love?”

“Yes. Always.”

“Tell me if it hurts okay?” Sokka says. Slowly he presses the dildo’s head against Zuko’s hold. There’s little resistance as he pushes the head in.

Zuko moans and keens as he feels the dildo slowly fill him. His hole is stretching wide, spreading his cheeks and trembling legs. It rubs against his prostate so sweetly and combined with the comforting scent of Sokka surrounding him, Zuko comes for the first time that night. His cocklet releasing a small spurt of slick, and his ass twitching and convulsing around the dildo.

“oOOOhHh Sokka~” he cries breathily. The taller man sucks in a deep breath as he watches Zuko cum and spurt against the wall. His legs tremble and nearly buckle if it weren’t for Sokka’s strong arms holding him and keeping him up.

“That was so hot.” Sokka whispers. “Can I keep going? Please can I keep going?”

Zuko nods weakly, “Yes.”

Sokka looks back down, he’s already halfway there, the largest part of the dildo is nearly through. With slow deliberate motions, he pushes the dildo all the way in. Zuko is choking and gasping at the feeling of fullness. Sokka takes Zuko’s hand in his and brings it down towards his slightly distended stomach. He presses against the taunt muscles. His lover shivers and shakes, gasping for precious air. Sokka smiles into Zuko’s neck.

“You’re just stuffed full with a cock huh? Do you love having a thick dildo spreading you apart?”

“Yes, yes I love it. I love being sooo fulll.” Zuko cries.

Sokka grins and leans away. He looks down and marvels at the sight. Zuko’s cheeks are spread apart, giving the illusion of bigger hips, the dark base of the dildo peaking out and his distended hole is drooling with slick, coating the pale thighs and dripping onto the floor.

The alpha preens at his handiwork and admires it for a minute longer. His hands reverently caressing his ass before giving it a sharp slap on his cheeks. Zuko cries out in pleasure at the sharp sting. Sokka brings his hands down again. Once. Twice. Three times.

Each time Sokka spanks him, Zuko can feel the vibrations to his full ass, jostling the dildo inside him. He’s so tempted to put his hands back and fuck himself on the dildo, but Sokka would be so disappointed. He doesn’t want to disappoint his alpha. So, he curls his hands against the wall and waits.

Sokka pulls away and walks over to the bed. Sitting down against the soft blankets with his legs wide apart, showing off the huge bulge in his pants.

“Come here darling.” He commands.

Zuko’s shaking as he pushes himself away from the wall. His legs are trembling with each step. With his ass so full, he walks almost like a woman. Hips shaking with each step, and slick dripping down from his thighs. Zuko stands before Sokka, flushed and panting, and so so desperately aroused and wanting.

“Kneel, love.” He orders.

Zuko kneels and presses his face against, Sokka’s hard thick thighs. He sighs contently and mouths kisses against the hots skin. The water tribesman groans at the sight and gently tugs Zuko’s thick hair.

“Will you help me out?” he asks motioning to his pants. Zuko nods eagerly and nearly tears his pants off trying to get to the prize.

Sokka’s thick long dick is standing straight up. Head red and leaking with pre-cum. It’s big on a normal day, but during his rut it gets monstrously huge. Slightly bigger than the large dildo sitting comfortably in Zuko’s hole, and when his knot pops...well let’s just say someone could get hurt without the proper prep.

Zuko’s mouth waters at the musky scent coming off from the aroused member. He carefully wraps his hands around it and pulls it close to his lips. There’s a tentative lick that makes electricity go down Sokka’s spine. The fire bender blows hot steamy air at the sensitive head and Sokka moans. He grips Zuko’s hair tightly.

“Now who’s teasing?”

Zuko merely smirks and without breaking eye contact, slowly descends onto the cock. He suckles the sensitive head gently, letting his nimble tongue swirl around it. He slides down the thick cock, mouth straining against the girth. He can only make it a little over half-way before he’s choking on it. Pulling back slightly, he leans back in relaxing his throat and swallowing around the dick. He puts a hand around it, but he can’t even bring his fingers around the girth. He pumps the cock in time with his bobbing head, slowly taking more and more with each thrust.

The heavy cock makes his head feel fuzzy and shivers go down his spine each time it bumps against his throat. With him on his knees and Sokka staring down on him with blazing eyes, he feels both control and helplessness all at once. Sokka’s hands are gripping his hair, but they don’t move. He sees the muscles of the alpha’s thick thighs twitching and wanting to thrust into the heat, but Sokka keeps them still. The sheer control and patience his alpha exhibits is so sexy and hot. It makes Zuko wonder what it would take to make him go wild.

With sudden resolve, he increases the pace of his mouth and hands, Sokka is gasping and moaning above him. Head thrown back in pleasure. Zuko sucks tightly against the cock, as if he’s trying to suck his lover’s soul through it. It strains against his throat with each thrust, but Zuko can take it. He opens wide and swallows it all the way down to the root. He can feel the thick cock all the way down his throat and it’s pulsating wildly.

It feels so good. Being stuffed from behind and in the front. It makes Zuko’s head go dizzy, and he feels like he’s on the brink.

“Babe.” Sokka groans hoarsely. “I’m going to cum.” He says looking down on him.

With deliberate motion, Zuko looks up at him through his long eyelashes. He slowly slowly pulls back releasing Sokka’s dick inch by inch, until only the head is still trapped in Zuko’s wonderfully tight wet mouth.

Then the omega goes down again and swallows it whole.

Sokka’s eyes roll, and he moans gutturally as he comes thickly into his lover’s throat. His fingers twine painfully in Zuko’s hair, but the other man can hardly care. The feeling of Sokka’s thick hot cum shooting down his throat, filling his belly, is enough to make him come untouched. Zuko moans against the cock and tries to swallow all the cum, but it’s too much. He has to pull back and let the rest dribble from his mouth. Sokka takes his cock in his hands and smears it against Zuko’s neck and face.

White come paints the fire benders face with thick glistening streaks. It lands artfully around Sokka’s mating bite and hot desire fills the alpha with need to mark and bite and claim again. Zuko is keening as he laps and licks away at his twitching cock, sucking it clean. It’s almost painful with how sensitive his dick is after that powerful orgasm.

Sokka strips off his shirt, leaving him naked, and gently wipes away the remains of come on Zuko’s face. He pulls Zuko up, smirking at the dazed blissed look in his lover’s face. With care he lays the man down on the bed and smiles down on him.

“I’ll make you feel so good darling.” He promises. “I’m going to take out that dildo, and stuff you with my cock and fill you up all night long until ever part of you is covered in my seed. Everyone will know who you belong to when I’m done.”

“Yes. Yes.” Zuko croaks. “Please, mark me. Fill me up Sokka.”

“I will.” And Sokka draws his hands down cupping the area where his womb is. “And maybe I’ll even fill you full of my pups.”

Zuko moans at the thought. He can see it, belly rounded and heavy with pups. Breast leaking full of milk, and Sokka by his side, murmuring softly to their unborn children and placing kisses all over his belly.

His eyes water.

“I want that.” he whispers, “I want that so much. I’ve stopped taking my herbs remember?”

Sokka grins brightly, “I know. I know. Let’s try okay? I want them so badly with you too.” He holds Zuko close and just breathes in the scent of his love. Dark hands travel down the smooth plains of pale skin, they undo the ties of his robe and lets it all in the open.

“Stomach or back?” Sokka asks.

“Back. I want to see you.” Zuko whispers.

It makes butterflies flutter in Sokka’s heart, and he kisses him deeply. Tongues intertwining as Sokka presses his body onto Zuko. The fire bender is so warm, and his scent draws him in deeper every time. He feels himself rutting against’ Zuko’s belly. His cock already hard and straining as if begging to fuck the gorgeous man underneath him.

“Darling, I’m going to take it out okay?”

Zuko nods, eyes wide and pupils blown from arousal. Sokka lifts his legs up and throws them over his shoulder. He places one hand on Zuko’s belly, while the other presses against the base of the dildo. Zuko mewls and writhes at the exquisite pressure that zings through his nerves. With the utmost care, Sokka slowly pulls out the dildo, relishing in the expressions flitting through Zuko’s face.

For his part, Zuko’s nearly transcended his body. His mind is a blank. The only thing he’s aware off is the sweet sweet pull of the dildo scraping his prostate. Sokka teasingly pushes back against the sensitive bundle of nerves and Zuko nearly arches off the bed. He feels himself squirt as it presses against it. Slick pooling under his ass.

Sokka’s eyes are hungry as they take in the debauched omega mewling on the bed. He bends down and sucks Zuko’s pink nipple, while his hand, coated in slick pinches and fondles the other one. The free hand on the dildo pumps it agonizingly slow, in and out of his ass. The sensations batter Zuko’s already frayed nerves. He’s a crying begging mess underneath Sokka’s ministrations. But Sokka only smirks and continues playing his body like a beautifully fine instrument.

Finally, finally he pulls the dildo fully out. Zuko nearly sobs in relief and agony as he feels empty and wide; his asshole tires to clench around something. Thank Agni he’s mated to Sokka because he doesn’t know if his ass could ever be tight for anyone else after all the stretching and abuse his hole goes through.

On the other end, Sokka nearly comes at the sight of Zuko’s wide glistening hole. His mouth waters as he sees the thick line of slick still connected to the dildo. He throws the toy off to the side and slides his tongue in Zuko. The other man shouts in pleasure at the feeling of his tongue licking and stroking his walls. Sokka pulls out and puts four fingers into him easily, thrusting and teasing the convulsing walls.

He pulls them out and then carefully slides his fist in. Zuko is nearly dying of pleasure at this point. Every nerve is alight and stars dance in his eyes. Sokka’s amazed and enraptured every time he sees his love’s fluttering asshole bear down on his wrist. He wishes he had the patience to drag orgasm after orgasm form his love, but his dick is straining, and he’s slowly losing control to the tidal wave of lust and need trying to burst through. He pulls his hands out and kisses the tears from Zuko’s cheeks.

“I’m going to lose control soon, darling.” He says.

Zuko opens his golden eyes and cups Sokka’s face, tenderly stroking his cheek. Sokka feels a swell of love rush through him and he kisses the soft palms.

Zuko smiles, “I trust you. I always do. You’ll be the father of our pups.” He replies sweetly.

Oh does that light a fire in Sokka’s belly.

He spreads Zuko’s legs far apart, almost splitting the man, and guides his thick leaking cock into the welcoming hold.

It’s wet and hot.

And glorious.

The slick coats his cock and lets him slide with little resistance. The walls clench around him, surrounding him in a tight wet heat. Sokka’s eyes roll back as he takes in the delicious pleasure shooting from his dick. Zuko is whimpering mess below him. His eyes unfocused and body convulsing as Sokka pushes in. The alpha has to take a minute to gather himself or he’ll end up coming prematurely like a teenager. It’s amazing that his wonderful husband can still do this to him.

He starts to thrust slowly. Rocking into Zuko’s body and enjoying the sweet sounds his omega makes. The rut lust is starting to fog his mind, but before it can happen, he leans down and nuzzles against Zuko’s neck. His eyes zero in on the mating mark. He pulls out almost all the way, and slams into Zuko just as he bites down on the mating mark.

It’s euphoric.

Zuko is screaming so loud, he’s sure the guards can hear them through the thick doors. The fire lord’s arms grip and dig into Sokka’s shoulder, but he can’t care right now, he’s too busy thrusting and pounding into Zuko’s wet heat.

The man underneath him babbles incoherently. Oscillating from Too much. Too much! to Please more! More!

Sokka happily obliges and angles himself so his thrusts are nailing and rubbing against Zuko’s prostate each time. Zuko can only grunt and moan and hiccup in short “Augh!” “OooOoh” “HnUmmn~”

His cocklet is dripping and squirting at nearly every thrust and slick starts to pool under them. Sokka pulls away from his neck and cages the man between his strong arms. He looks down, and sees Zuko blissed out of his mind. Brain and body overwhelmed with orgasmic bliss.

“Please—Uuhhn. Fill me. Make me round with pups—aaAAahh.” He begs haltingly.

His own hole seems to want it too because it seems to suck Sokka’s cock deeper and deeper with each thrust, tightening impossibly at the base where his knot is starting to form. He’s not going to last much longer. With one final thrust, he drives himself deep into Zuko and locks himself there. He comes deep into his mate. The pleasure rocks through him and he convulses with each spurt of come.

He doesn’t know how long or how much he comes, but when he comes back into his body he sees Zuko’s normally flat stomach slightly rounded. He puts a hand over it and reverently strokes it. Thinking about the pups that might be protected and formed in his beautiful mate. A pale hand lays on top of his own and Sokka looks up.

Zuko is a picture of a debauched wonton spirit, luring people into their dangerous lairs. Sokka would have been the first victim, and he wouldn’t regret a minute of it. But then the fire bender smiles and it’s like the sun has come out. Sokka feels his breath hitch.

Is it normal to cry from seeing such a beautiful person? He thinks trying to blink away the tears.

They stay in that position, looking deeply into the other’s eyes.

“Promise me something?” Zuko asks, voice hoarse.

“Anything.” And he means it.

“Make sure I’m a good parent to our pups. Just…if I do something to—if I ever hurt them…please make sure to keep them safe from me.” Tears gather in those beautiful golden eyes, Sokka feels his heart drop. He gathers Zuko up in his arms and holds him close.

“Don’t even say that. You’d never hurt our pups, I know.”

“How?” Zuko asks with such fragility.

Sokka pulls him back and cups his cheeks. “Because I trust you. I trust the mother of our pups.”

Zuko let’s the tears fall and he buries his face in Sokka’s chest. “I love you.” He mumbles.

“I love you too.”

They stay that way tied and holding each other. When Sokka feels another wave of rut coming on, he fucks Zuko gently on his side and wring out an orgasm from both of them.

He sighs and strokes Zuko’s belly. “Our pups are going to run the whole world.” He says. “And they’ll be the most beautiful ones in the world.”

Zuko laughs, “How do you know that?”

Sokka smirks, “Because they have a genius sword bending father, a powerful fire bending mother who’s kind and strong and courageous and the most beautiful person in the world.”

Zuko snorts, “Stop calling it sword bending.”

“Never.”

#sokka x zuko #zukka #sokka #zuko #abo dynamics #omega zuko #alpha sokka #PWP

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dearyams · 5 years

Text

a long day

@dazedbyeler: headcanon ; Will screaming into his pillow after Mike does something cute [x]

————————————

It was going to be a long day.

Not long as in the number of hours Will was up—no, he woke up pretty late for even a Saturday—or the fact that as the summer solstice approached, daylight technically lasted longer. It was going to be long as in mental exhaustion, though it wasn’t even really exhaustion for him. Was he stressed? No more than usual in most aspects. A lot more than usual for one in particular.

See, Will woke up late on a Saturday that had long been planned to be the day the Party started up Mike’s newest campaign. Mike even promised he wouldn’t be over too long at Hopper’s cabin to ensure that the four could spend the entire day in the basement tossing saving throws and laughing at Mike’s hilariously in-character role-played monsters and NPCs. Max was even going to stop by and watch—“Watch? You mean critique my voices as if I haven’t spent years crafting my creepy goblin voice,” Mike had whined the night before as he laid on the couch and tossed a grape into his mouth, only to choke on it and give Will a mild heart attack in the process. The point being: this Saturday was important for everyone and was planned to be the best Saturday in the entire year so far.

Despite his joy and overwhelming excitement at starting a new campaign with his friends, Will overslept. That got his friends worried, worried enough that Will woke up to Mike frantically knocking on his window and yelling for Will. “Don’t be dead, Byers, or I’ll bring you back to life and strangle you for it!” It was only testimony to the room’s thin walls that Will managed to hear Mike. The boy was obviously teasing—he couldn’t fight for his life and after Will beat his ass during an impromptu wrestling match five years back, he didn’t bother and left the rough housing to Dustin and Lucas—but even through sleep’s last languorous dregs, Will could hear the underlying concern that bleed in every word. That pure, unadulterated concern and the annoying rap of knuckles on glass that crept through his dream—a dream that left him red-faced and glaring at his wall in hopes that the lingering phantom touch from Mike’s hand in his would soon disappear—was enough disturbance to wake him.

Will turned over to face his window and stared. Mike was glaring at him. He was petulant as always with a pout on his lips and Will couldn’t help himself if his eyes found focus on those curved lips. He tried not to think about what that meant and let his gaze wander upwards. Mike’s freckled cheeks were pink and flushed from exertion. His eyes were bright as usual, carrying the stars night left behind when melting into day. His hair was messy in a wind-blow way since he was fresh off his bike ride to the Byers’ residence. Will let the guise of sleep allow him a few more seconds to stare and take in the beautiful sight before him. He had been dreaming about holding hands with Mike just a few minutes ago, being blushy and pressing his lips to those very same pink cheeks—oh.

Mike seemed to notice Will was actually staring at him and his hard glare loosened into a soft smile. He waved excitedly before pressing his palms up against the window. Will was mentally tossed back in time to a point before Mike was tall enough to even press against the window as he did. Back when the boy would press his nose to the cold plane and all Will could see was his bright brown eyes as he watched and waited for Will. In a melancholy way, Will missed those days, but he didn’t think about it for long as he also questioned why Mike hadn’t simply gone to the front door and barged into his room as he usually did.

Will slowly sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes before he yawned. He stretched his arms and then padded to the window to open it. Fresh air filtered through his room. Mike pulled back and then leaned on the window sill with an infectious grin. “Thought you’d never wake up, Sleeping Beauty,” he drawled, blinking when Will shoved a hand in his face to push him back. “Hey!”

“Don’t call me that unless you want me to call you Prince Charming.”

The implications in that statement went unsaid but surprisingly, instead of sneering and retching like Dustin might do, Mike flushed a bright red. Red was a good color on him, especially with late spring’s sun casting warm rays over his pale skin. “What?” he exclaimed before shaking his head so fast Will was worried he might injure his neck. “No. No, don’t do that. I’m teasing you, Will.” He looked at his watch and then tapped the screen in a poor attempt to change the subject. “It’s already, 1:30! What were you doing last night? I thought I went home pretty early so you could wake up on time today.”

Will frowned and tried to recall what he had done but he mostly remembered listening to a few songs with Jonathan after Mike left and then called it a night. His mind wandered back to the dream and he coughed into his fist in hopes to let that action cover up his blush. “I didn’t do much after you left.” he sent Mike a smirk. “I guess hanging out with you is draining me these days.”

It was gentle teasing just as much as Mike had done earlier, but Mike...he was really acting weird today. He stiffened and then pulled back from the window sill as he rubbed at his neck. “Oh. I, uh, I can come over less if you’d like. I don’t mean to be a bother.”

Will balked. “You’re not a bother.” He felt the insane urge to reach out and grab Mike’s hands but he was never brave enough for that. Sure, he could survive living in another dimension on his own for a week and he could beat an interdimensional shadow monster from taking over his mind for almost a year, but acting on whatever these romantic urges were? Hard pass. He couldn’t risk ruining what good he had with Mike, not after everything they’d been through together.

“Eh,” Mike shrugged and scuffed his shoes against the dirt. “If you say so.”

“I mean it, really,” Will leaned on his side of the window sill and looked up into wandering brown eyes. “You know you’re always welcome; Mom loves having you over anyway.”

“Mrs. Byers is great,” laughed Mike and his cheerful attitude came back with a quickness. Will wasn’t even sure if seeing Mike so sad had really happened. “And I guess you’re pretty great, too.”

Will rolled his eyes but when he focused back on Mike, he felt his next words lodge in his throat much like the grape Mike had almost died eating last night. Mike was...he was so handsome. Messy black hair curling at the edges, bright brown eyes echoing emotions that would never leave his mouth, pink cheeks, gentle smile on his curved lips and oh, oh, his voice—how it’d gotten deeper in the past few months and how just then, when he called Will great, it got a little deeper still and so gentle. Will didn’t know how to describe what it felt like to hear that voice directed at him. It was a warm blanket fresh out the dryer or maybe a toasty fire in the fireplace after spending hours in the cold. It was the loud cheers from the Party when they defeated the boss level monster in the campaign or the giggled whispers from his sleeping bag buddy when the Party gathered together for a weekend sleepover.

And then Will knew how to describe it because there was only ever going to be one way to describe the way Mike talked to him, the way Mike looked at him, the way Mike existed with him. That way was Mike being, well, Mike Wheeler. This boy here, with the crooked grin and the shy eyes and the pink cheeks and the stupid blue polo shirt stretched over his broadening shoulders and Will’s palpitating heart in his unknowing soft hands, was simply Mike Wheeler and that was enough to explain it all. He was so infuriatingly cute and Will didn’t know him to be any way but, even when he was in a cantankerous mood.

“I’ll come around front and say hi to your mom,” the boy declared firmly enough to snap Will from his dopey trance. Will leaned away from the window and nodded silently. “You can eat over at my place if you want. You know, so you don’t have to worry about stuffing your face in a rush now.”

“Okay,” was all Will could muster from his throat. He hoped he didn’t sound like a croaking sick man.

Mike cocked his head to the side with a puppy-like frown. So stupidly cute. “Are you okay? If you’re sick, you don’t have to worry about it. We can reschedule.”

“I’m fine; I’ll shower, get dressed, and meet you inside.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Mike grinned even wider and waved Will off with his fingers, an oddly shy but equally adorable little wave that had Will blinking as Mike grabbed his bike and strode away.

Will closed his window with a heavy sigh and then bit his bottom lip until he was sure the skin under his teeth turned white. He turned to his bed, plopped down onto it back first, and closed his eyes to calm his rapidly beating heart. Will’s brain kept replaying Mike’s little wave and his soft voice and his flushed cheeks and his cute head tilt and—

The brunette clenched his fists and turned to scream into his pillow, unable to keep his bubbling emotions inside any longer. He was going to die, positively and absolutely die, from Mike being this goddamn adorable without even trying. Did he know what he was doing to Will’s heart? Did he know Will turned to Halloween in ‘84 as means to appease himself when the nightmares got so bad? Did he know Will was weak to his stupid gangly charms in a manner no different from a moth always attracted to the light even if the light killed it? Did he know, did he know, did he know, should he know, should he know, should he—

No.

Will pulled his face from the pillow and then gripped it in his arms as his throat started to burn. Stupid. He tried to make this stop so many times. He screamed into his pillow as the days went by in hopes that once his throat got sore enough his body would stop associating Mike with this...this futile thing Will refused to put a name to even though he knew what he felt. And yet it had been months filled with muffled screams and harrowed sighs, lingering glances and internal yearning, and Mike was still cute and dorky and everything Will wanted in a...more-than-friend.

You mean boyfriend, his mind tratoriously provided.

Will blushed furiously and pulled the pillow back to his face for another muffled groan as he thought about Mike being his boyfriend. His dream would become reality and that was so far-fetched yet his foolish heart found it still attainable. When he heard Mike’s voice as he chatted with his mom, Will sat up and scrambled toward his dresser to grab clothes to hop into before sprinting down the hall toward the bathroom before he could get a glimpse at Mike. If he spotted Mike talking with his mom so easily like he usually did, like he belonged in this house conversing with Will’s mom as if she was his own mom, Will would either combust on the spot or immediately ask Mike to make it official and date him already.

When Will strode back to his room to toss his dirty clothes in the hamper, he spotted Mike laying on his stomach on the bed. The boy had his chin in his hands as he watched Will and then jumped to his feet with a sigh. “You ready to go?”

Will shoved at his shoulder. “Always, Wheeler.”

Mike shot him a bashful grin and right then and there, Will knew it was going to be a long day. A long day filled with the mental gymnastics he was going to have to pull to keep this secret under lock and key. A long day filled with stress brought by caring about Mike the way he did. A long day but a fun day because as Mike biked down a hill and whooped as the wind blew back his messy locks, Will couldn’t help but smile and cheer along with his best friend. Sure, once he biked back home, he’d probably think back on Mike’s soft nudges even though he wasn’t supposed to be giving special hints as DM, and equally soft smiles when Will got the hint and Dustin and Lucas playfully whined about Mike playing favorites, and when thinking about that Will would find himself face first in his pillow muffling his frustrated noises, but...it was worth it. His heart said that said the dream was attainable and Will wouldn’t let that fire die out.

Eventually, he’d be able to grab that same pillow, shove it in Mike’s face, and listen to Mike laugh before he pulled him in for a kiss.

#byler #byeler #mike wheeler #will byers #fluff #misc #drabble

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ethertae · 6 years

Text

Hurricane - Jeon Jungkook (M)

Hurricane (part 1)

Beautiful moodboard by @introsgf

Word count: 7.7k

Summary: You love Jungkook, and he loves you. But he lives with the stars, and you simply content yourself to look at the night sky from a dead field, desperate to reach for something you know will never truly be yours.

Genre: angst, light smut. Ex-boyfriend! Jungkook.

Warnings: light smut. This is not the depiction of a healthy relationship, this is fiction - pls don’t let yourself be emotionally abused this way (even though it may not seem extreme, it really is.) Jungkook, here, is a character that needs development, so it will be easier to understand the actual issue - we’ll dig into his mindset in the second part.

Requests: open

+ (playlist for the story)

(A/N: I know Namjoon’s figurines cost more than 3000 dollars – rich boy, lmao – but this an au where they cost about 50 -70 dollars)

You’re awake again.

The light from your television screen is the only thing that allows you to see in the otherwise dark room. You can’t fall asleep. The noise is drowned out by your solitude – this time of night is the only moment you can seem to think. You are used to it now.

He’s back.

Images of him appearing at your doorstep, with a hurt and lost gaze, flashes before your eyes. A part of you expects him to come. It’s been two days, and still no news. You let yourself think you don’t want to see him anymore; that his face would only bring out a deep-seated anger, one that has accumulated over the years, from all the times he left you.

You wrap the blanket tighter around yourself, shivering from the cold air that wanders from the open window and into your living room. Whether you like to admit it or not, you miss him. Your heart can’t help but yearn for the way he would wrap his arms around you at night, being the one to shield you from the bitter cold. But, you can’t. You can’t let him in again.

A buzz resounds, breaking the low murmur of your television show. The rate of your heartbeat increases, a pitiful twinge of hope curling your stomach. Picking up your phone, you unlock the screen.

2 messages from chimchim:

[Y/N, go to sleep…]

[stop doing this, it isn’t healthy.]

You frown – does Jimin know he is back too?

Of course, he does. He is one of his closest friends afterall. You decide not to answer; you don’t want him to worry about you. You would rather let him think you are asleep. You hear another chime.

A message from chimchim:

[I hope you are really asleep, and not just ignoring my messages -_-]

2 messages from Jeon Jungkook:

[Y/N]

[Are you still awake?]

You do a double take, blinking away your fatigue to make sure you aren’t seeing things.

It’s him.

Your heart feels as if it is lodged in your throat. You heave, chest rising up and down, because it’s him. Eyes sweeping over the message multiple times, a flood of emotions invade you. Six months. It’s been six months, and he has texted you.

You stare blankly at the screen for several minutes. A shaky breath leaves you, and you swallow the big lump, feeling as though your esophagus could tear apart from the width.

You’re scared, because he’s back. You’re frustrated, because he’s back. You’re despaired, because he’s back.

You’re relieved – because he’s back.

And no matter how hard you try to hate him, forget him each time he disappears, you can’t bring yourself to. Jungkook knows that, so he uses it. Uses your love for him, so he can come back, just to make you fall harder and then leave. He tells you, this time is the right one, this time he’s ready, but you wake up alone a few weeks later with a note on your dresser, saying that he can’t be tied down.

It started five years ago, when you were still a freshman in college, and he was a junior. You met through Jimin. You were sweet, naïve, and Jungkook was the mysterious boy, who had all the girls at his feet but wouldn’t give any the time of the day. He intrigued you, and although he would constantly say, you weren’t his type of girl, the tension was undeniable. And you were relentless in tearing at his cool exterior, till one night, he finally caved and kissed you at Jimin’s Christmas party - had you into a shuddering mess with the way your clothes bunched up under his large hands. Now, you say your stupid-self was too curious for your own good, too in love with him to see past what he really is – a coward. All he knows how to do is run – run away from his feelings as soon as they are too much to handle.

Your fingers hover over the screen.

Should you?

You think about all the times he hurt you.

No, you shouldn’t.

2 messages from Jeon Jungkook:

[I’m sorry]

[I miss you]

A whimper escapes your lips – your heart clenches painfully, writhing as though it has been stabbed. He always does this, and you always fall for it. You can’t, not again.

Looking at the ceiling, you turn off your phone. The lights in the shadows of your walls, travel with the pass of each car, and you keep your eyes transfixed on the movement. Maybe if you don’t give him a reason to stay, he’ll leave sooner. Maybe this time, if you don’t cave in, he won’t come back. Unconsciously, you ache at the thought of never seeing him again.

You let your head touch the rough material of your couch, legs curled against your chest, and blanket tight around your trembling body. You won’t let him, no you won’t.

Tears glide along your temple.

No. Not this time.

“What are you doing?” Jimin berates, grabbing the expresso that is tightly clutched in your hands. He runs to the nearest trash can, trench coat swaying with him, and throws the cup in.

You gasp, “You ass, I needed that!”

You shuffle to the bin, looking inside longingly before glaring at Jimin. You do indeed need it, you haven’t been sleeping much this past week, and Jungkook hasn’t contacted you since that night. It doesn’t sit well with you.

“It was your fourth cup, and it’s ten in the morning. You need to calm down.”

Jimin starts to walk ahead of you, and you pick up your pace to catch up with him. He is quiet as he advances, trying to reach your destination quickly, but you find the silence stressful – any type of distraction from your thoughts would be welcomed.

You wrap your coat tighter around yourself, regretting the fact that you didn’t put on gloves before stepping out in this treacherous cold.

“Jimin?” You whisper, unsure whether to start this conversation or not, but it has been tearing through your mind incessantly for the past week, so you ask anyway.

“Have you –“ you take a deep breath, the cold air burning your lungs, “have you seen Jungkook?”

He doesn’t react, like you thought he would – he was expecting it – instead, he sighs.

“Yes, Y/N.”

You nod, a stillness invading the air around you, even more so in the dead of winter. You try to tell yourself that it was enough information, that you don’t need to know any more of it – but you do. You always do.

You rush out, “how is he?”

Jimin takes a moment to look at you, hands stuffed deep inside the pockets of his coat. He regards you silently for a moment before answering, “He’s fine. He asked the same about you.”

You’re speechless, lump caught in your throat, and heart palpitating so fast, you fear it might stop. You bite your lip, eyes directing themselves in front of you, leaving Jimin’s flushed face.

“Don’t get any ideas, Y/N.”

You nod, breaking from your reverie, “Of course not, Jimin. It’s over. It’s been over.”

“It’s for the best.”

“I know.”

Your trek continues in absolute silence, walking down numerous streets and under the grey sky, to finally get where both of you have been planning to go for the past few months. But, you kept putting it off because of your busy schedules.

You exhale when you finally enter the figurine shop, the warmth of the heated room engulfing you in a hug. You look around – the shop is small, and shelves line the walls, rare collectable figurines arranged neatly on them.

“Why are we doing this again?” you ask Jimin, whose already deep in the shop, touching the delicate objects that are displayed.

“I’m super late on Joonie’s present, and I promised him something cool. And, you said you’d help me choose.”

“Ah yes, I remember. And, Joonie’s birthday was 2 months ago.”

“Shush, I’ve been busy – I did the cake, okay?”

You cackle, touching the wings on a beautiful fairy figurine – she’s crouched, hands touching the ground and expression sorrowful, like she’s lost something – you find you relate to her.

“Damn –“ Jimin’s voice startles you, and you almost knock down the delicate fairy, but stabilize it quickly, checking around if anybody has seen.

“They have all sorts of figurines, they vary so much – Hey, come here, this is the sort of stuff Namjoon likes.”

You reach Jimin. Observing the collectables along with him, you notice that most of these Namjoon already owns. You made sure to sneak into his room and take a picture of his figurines, so you wouldn’t end up buying one he already has. You take out your phone, finding the picture, and looking from the device to the shelves of packaged items.

“Chim, he doesn’t have this one,” you crouch, picking one from the bottom shelf, it seemed to be matching one of the sets in the photo.

“We have to go shopping for Jin and Tae’s birthdays soon.” You add as an afterthought, suddenly remembering your other friends’ birthdays would barely be a month from now.

He groans, “Don’t remind me.”

He takes the covered object from your hand, and you show him the picture. Jimin smiles, seemingly happy with the choice and taps your nose, before sauntering off to the cash register.

You follow him, stopping beside him and clutching the counter. The nervous tap of your foot starts as your mind wanders to places you’ve been mulling over repeatedly. Has he changed the color of his hair again? Is he okay? Is he hurting as much as you are?

“Hey, Y/N – so,” Jimin clears his throat, uneasiness clear on his soft features, “um – so, we are going to be having drinks at Seokjin’s place, later tonight…with Jungkook – you know, to celebrate his return – and, well, it would be weird for you not to be there.”

The awkward tension is palpable, Jimin making sure to look anywhere but at you. He takes out his wallet, handing out the necessary cash to the man behind the counter and thanks him, bidding goodbye.

You amble at his side, too busy replaying his terrifying words over and over in your head, to answer him. The cold air hitting your face – as he opens the glass door to the streets – is like a harsh wakeup call, and you struggle to make the words pass your lips.

“Oh – yeah. That’s fine.”

“I mean, don’t feel like you have to – we would totally understand if you don’t come” He trails off, looking far into the distance at what seems to be the Christmas lights decorating a lonely lamp post. You have always wondered about that, why they bring out the festivities so early in the season.

“No, no! It’s fine, I’m fine…. I’m okay.”

He eyes you briefly, honey colored hair following the currents of the wind – “are you sure?”

When you don’t answer, he sighs – his perception getting the better of him. You’re spacing out again, and he doesn’t have the heart to tear you away from the visual novel playing over in your head.

“Hm, do you want to have some mulled wine?” he dares to ask, sending you a wink.

You look up at him, perceiving the small grin hidden by his thick red scarf, “It’s only 10:30 in the morning, Jimin.”

“So, what? We both need it. Plus, mulled wine is so good.”

You can’t help the subdued smile that molds your features, almost imperceptible but there. “I guess I wouldn’t mind some spices in my system.”

You pass by a small bar, one which sells the hot beverage you crave, a special you can only find during the holidays (- or at least when it nears the holidays, if you can call a month near). Entering it, you take in the bad interior décor. The dimmed lights of the bar illuminate the room in an almost welcoming way, the poorly strung Christmas ornaments adding a sad touch to the already uncommon view of a bar so early in the morning. One too few people, most of which are splayed on the tables, populate the dark box – if it weren’t for the windows, it would feel as if you were in a homely cave.

Sitting at a table as close to the windows as possible, you relish in the comfiness of the sunken seat you placed yourself in. The waiter comes with a disgruntled expression, a notepad in hand, and judgement evident in his beady eyes.

Jimin orders for the both you, falling back in his chair once the odd man leaves, “what do you think got his panties in a twist?”

“He probably thinks anybody that comes to a bar this early in the morning must have issues.”

“Well, obviously, that’s why we’re here.” The blonde jokes, prodding the chipped wood of your table with his small fingers.

“Har, har” you tease, pressing your hands together and blowing warm air into the space created between your palms, proceeding then to rub them together, till you feel the tingle of rushing blood. Winter has come early this year.

“Here,” the man comes back, dropping your drinks off, and leaving dismissively with the tray nested in his pit, before you even have the chance to thank him.

“Do you think he spit in our wine?” Jimin whispers, and glances down at the hot beverage, mocking worry laced in his brown eyes.

“I hope not,” you say, taking a tentative sip at the cinnamony goodness of your mulled wine.

Jimin hums in approval, a small, involuntary crinkle to his nose as he inhales the spicy aroma that now lingers in the air around you. The endearing twitch makes you smile, mouth curving upwards in subtle delight.

Slowly, your thoughts start drifting, and your grip loosens around your sturdy paper cup, eyes focusing on the small slice of orange floating around in the murky red. Your thoughts wander to Jungkook.

You remember the first Christmas you spent together.

You visited your family with him, since he mentioned he had none of his own. And, when you tried to press on the matter, he would only get eerily quiet, refusing to deliver any other information. Your family disliked him – you saw it as soon as he stepped into the threshold, their critical gazes eating up the way his hair was dyed an extravagant pink.

But, you didn’t care, you didn’t realize the importance of family approval or judgement.

You remember the champagne induced buzz you felt at the Christmas party, belly filled with pot roast, and filth being whispered in your ear, while Jungkook traced teasing circles on your lower back. You remember the way he pushed you against the bed, mapping out your body in the room of your childhood and teenage years spent fantasizing such things would happen.

You also remember the absence of his warmth the next morning, duffle bag gone along with everything he wore the night before. A note was left neatly on top of your dresser, written on the paper you used to confess your secrets on at 14.

That was the very first time he left you.

When you made it down to breakfast, you were sure to have your tears dry and a small smile plastered on your face. You excused him, lies leaving your lips messily – some sort of nonsense, like he had an emergency back home that needed to be tended to immediately.

Your mom saw right through the act – somehow – even though you felt like you had hidden it well enough. And, instead of chastising you, and giving you a meaningless lecture, she comforted you and explained to you the hardships of going through heartbreak.

Jungkook was your first real heartbreak. And, as unbelievably simpleton as it sounds, he was your first everything.

“– I’m thinking about getting a cat, and naming it Yoongi, just to piss Yoongles off. I want to get back at him for making fun of my love for candles.”

You shake your head and laugh, memory still in the forefront of your mind. “He’s going to kill you. But, make sure you buy a cat that’s as cute as him.”

“Sure thing,” he smirks, bringing the cup to his lips, twinkle in the boy’s eyes as he thinks about the man he loves, but is too afraid to tell.

“You know,” you look at him intently, “if you just told Jungkook how you feel.”

“Jungkook?”

Blanching – you stutter, correcting yourself, “sorry – sorry, I meant Yoongi.”

“Hm,” you avoid Jimin’s intense stare, “should we practice?”

You scrunch your face in confusion, “Practice?”

“Yeah, what you’re going to say in front of Jungkook.”

“What – why?”

“So, you don’t say anything stupid, or incredibly awkward. We both know words are not your forte when you’re nervous.”

“Who isn’t awkward when nervous?”

“Me,” he clicks his tongue, finishing the last drop of his wine.

With a roll of your eyes, you gesture for him to continue. He beams, adding quickly, “it’s for you, and the sake of all of us that I’m doing this. I don’t wanna have to kick myself from the tension tonight.”

“Ok, so what I think you should do is not really talk to him.”

“What? How is that not awkward?”

“– let me finish,” he wags his finger.

“So, as I was saying, don’t really talk to him tonight, I think you guys should rehash your problems alone – but,” he looks at you dead in the eye, “I swear don’t fall for his shit again, or I’ll kill both of you. I love Kook, but he’s a complete douche.”

You purse your lips, hands laying atop your thighs, and the tap of your foot starting again. No, you cannot be alone with him. No, definitely not. You play with your fingers, eyes strained on the way your thumbs twiddled together.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to be alone with him. I don’t want to talk to him anyway.”

“Good,” Jimin nods, a big enthusiastic smile gracing his lips, almost as if he hadn’t been giving you serious advice just mere moments ago. You find the small crinkle of his eyes strangely reassuring, because they’re so kind especially when he smiles, “don’t worry everything will be fine, it’ll go by super quick.”

You almost believe him

“Seokjin! Hurry up, it’s freezing!” Jimin knocks harder on the wooden door.

“Can you wait, you brat!”

An annoyed Jin opens the door - you and Jimin shuffle in the house immediately, desperate to escape the cold of nightfall. But, as soon as you hear the clang, your chest feels heavy. You can’t leave now. You’re trapped here – with Jungkook.

“Hey,” Jin hugs you, a waft of vanilla tickling your nose pleasantly, you take in his comforting scent with a soft sigh. His arms leave your back, and so do yours, taking a step back to stand at his side.

“Where’s my hug, hyung?”

“You don’t get one, because you’re disrespectful.”

You decide to leave your friends in the entryway, making your way to Seokjin’s bathroom, maybe to throw up, or hide the entire time? Yes, that sounds good.

You pass the numerous doors that line the hallway, rushing to reach the last one, which has a cute plaque marked ‘restroom’ in cursive. Your shaking fingers meet the metallic knob, and twist it open, switching on the light.

Closing the door behind you, you pull down the cover to the toilet seat and sit on top of it. You take off your coat, the thickness suffocating considering the heated rooms of Seokjin’s home. You lay it on your lap.

Okay. So. You are going to see Jungkook. You are not going to talk to him. It’s as simple as that. You also will NOT cry when you see him. No. That you won’t do.

You heave a shaky breath, rising and convincing yourself that it is way time you start facing your fears. You look at yourself in the mirror that hangs over the small sink – you look, normal, casual – no – you look half dead. You feel like you have been through a zombie apocalypse, died, then came back to life.

You shake your head. No! No! You look great, damn it!

You open the door and pinch the bridge of your nose, turning to walk out of the hallway. But, you stop in your tracks, the sight almost making you jump out of your skin – it’s like you see a ghost, and Jungkook is standing right in front of you.

“Y/N –“ he exhales, taking in your appearance with depraved eyes.

“J-Jungkook?” You splutter, shock splayed across your features with how much he has changed. He no longer has blond hair, instead he decided to dye it black – it sweeps his forehead gently, longer around the edges and you have the sudden urge to run your fingers through them, like you have always done in the past.

God, you missed him. God, do you just want to run into his arms and pretend he hasn’t left you so many times before.

Your gaze falls onto the way his lower lip is no longer bare; how it’s now so beautifully decorated by a ring, and how it rests at the edge undisturbed. The only thing that hasn’t changed is the way he looks at you – his stare filled with remorse, like all the other times he begged for your forgiveness, falling to his knees in front of you and laying his head on your stomach as you cried, because you already knew he had you under his spell.

You both stand there – immobile, waiting for the other to utter a word, to break the trance. It’s almost as if a dark cloud nestles itself above your heads, still silent but preparing something that none of you anticipate, because you say to yourself that if you make it through this, then you are home free. The reunion is always the hardest; the moment you see him after months of expecting his return, you crack. But, this time, you won’t let yourself be so foolish.

Hesitating, he takes a step forward, and you take one back, brows knit in caution. He stops upon seeing your dejection, lips upturned and face sullen – he speaks, “How have you been?”

“I’ve been well,” you whisper, the image of him almost too hard to bear, you feel as though you are dreaming.

He nods, “I’m glad.”

Silence. Tension.

It’s suffocating.

Heat starts rising all over your body, beads of sweat rolling off in unconventional places – you can’t handle this, you need to get out of here.

“Jungkook? Y/N?” Namjoon makes an appearance at the end of the hall, your panicked eyes make contact with his surprised ones.

“Uh –“ he nearly gets whiplash with how fast his neck twists from you to Jungkook, “let’s go to the living room, guys…”

Coughing, he rubs his throat nervously and walks out of sight, running for protection and away from the dark cloud that looms over you.

You brush past Jungkook, lips sealed into a tight line, and unable to help the tremble that overtakes you when you catch his sent – it hasn’t changed, it never will. You hear the clonk of his boots follow you to where the boys are, their incessant whispers coming to a halt as soon as they feel your presence in the room.

“Hey, guys!” Hoseok chirps, large smile in place; subtly trying to diffuse the tension with a friendly pat to the cushion, pointing out the free seat at his side.

You shuffle to get there, a quiet sigh leaving you when your back makes contact with the plushy feel of Jin’s couch. Hoseok wraps an arm around your shoulder and leans in to whisper, “it’s fine – breathe.”

“Thank you, hobi.”

Nodding, he parts from you and unweaves his limb from your shaking frame. Yoongi clears his throat, bottle of soju in hand and shifts in his seat.

“So – Jungkook! It’s nice to see you again, man. It’s been a long time, and I think it’s safe to say that we all missed you – even though you’re a pain in the ass,” Yoongi takes a swig from the bottle, “someone get glasses, I need to get drunk.”

Jungkook laughs lightly, “I missed you too, man.”

“Yeah, whatever – glasses, we need glasses,” the older boy points at the bottle, a small raise to his eyebrows.

Seokjin hauls himself up, muttering something as he huffs in annoyance, “I’ll get the glasses, you lazy ass.”

“I bought the booze,” Yoongi retorts, a grimace curving his nose and morphing the line of his lips.

Hoseok laughs, booming sound piercing your eardrums, and you look down at your feet, from fear of meeting Jungkook’s gaze if your eyes strain in his direction, and you know they would.

Suddenly, your mind reals you back to a particular conversation you had with Jungkook years prior, the memory washing over you in a wave of melancholy.

「The wind blew and intertwined with the long patches of grass, weaving through trees and creating reassuring sounds of despair and lamentation. It yearned to reach the stars in the night sky, but it only met the kiss of nature and the tufts of yours and Jungkook’s hair.

You stole glances at the boy who stared longingly at he open sky, lips parted in slight awe as he lied in the back of his pickup truck, with you by his side.

“Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“Do you ever wonder what’s it like being a star?”

You frowned at his question, “a burning ball of gas?”

He snorted, shaking his head, “you know what I mean. To be contemplated by millions every night; to be free, and unattainable?”

The crease in your brow deepened, “No, I’ve never thought of that,” you casted a glance at the light that was so out of reach yet illuminated darkness and offered hope to an endless tunnel of despair. “But you know that the stars that are here tonight won’t be the same ones that you see in a couple of months.”

“Stop it with that Y/N,” he huffed, a smile spreading across his face, “I mean, to be so admired, and still be out of reach?”

“Like celebrities?”

“Something like that – “

“I guess that’s why we call them stars… why? You want to be a star?” you teased, rising into a sitting position.

“I don’t know,” he propped himself up by his elbows, “I just want something more; to be remembered. I hate this – staying here, going to college, and for what? Just so I can work an office job and come home depressed and complaining about how much my life sucks?”

Wordlessly, you contemplated the downcast glint in his eyes, how the wondrous twinkle in his eye captured the light that shone on you; it was filled with hope, possibilities.

“I don’t know what I want to do with life, but I know it isn’t this.”」

You blink, eyes immediately searching for his face despite promising yourself that you wouldn’t. The light in his eyes – it’s gone. When did it burn out?

“Y/N, take your cup,” Hoseok shoves the shot glass in your face, urging you to take it. So, with a shake to your fingers, you do.

The strong stench of the liquor drowns out your senses, and you wince at the sting it brings to your eyes – it’s been a while since you have gotten drunk.

“To Jungkook, and his return –“ Namjoon shouts happily raising his glass, and clinking it with Jimin’s, who gives you wary glance.

“To Jungkook!”

But it doesn’t go without a scoff, “he’ll be gone in like a week.”

Heads turn towards Yoongi, “fine, sorry – to Jungkook.” He chuckles, downing the glass and licking his lips as if it were water, already thirsty for more.

“Hit me up again.”

Taehyung complies, serving Yoongi, then bringing the liquor to his lips. His forehead creases in distaste – he never did like strong alcohol.

“So,” Taehyung coughs, liquor still burning his throat, “Kook, how has life been? What did you do while you were away?”

“Uh,” Jungkook sneaks a glance at you, and you’re too busy, making sure the last drop of alcohol has dripped onto your tongue, to notice. “Well –“ your head snaps to meet his eyes, the sound of his voice like the chime of distant bells to your ears.

“- I just traveled around the country, nothing much…”

“Ah –“ Taehyung trails off.

“Yah! Speak up! What did you do around the country?” You recognize Jimin’s voice – he’s uncomfortable, you can tell, this is exactly what he didn’t want, so he tries to break the tension.

“I stayed in motels, drank beer, and got a job as a pizza delivery guy – Jesus, will you chill.”

You take the time Jungkook is distracted, to memorize every new detail of his features – he has a scar on his jaw that wasn’t there before. You need more alcohol. Yes. That’s what you need.

“Ho-hoseok? More Soju, please?”

He gives a languid smirk, filling your shot glass to the brim, and you tip it – the rancid liquid carving its way in your system.

“More?”

The colorless drink slides down your throat for a third time.

Two bottles in, and all of you are hopelessly drunk.

“So, I said to the dude, you can’t touch my rap skills, and he was like yes, I can, so we had a rap battle, and I beat the shit out of his ass.” Yoongi slurs, a lazy laugh exposing his small teeth.

“When was that?” Namjoon chuckles, hand running up and down Jin’s thigh, who is already passed out, and sprawled at the end of the couch.

“When, I was like 17 – damn, I miss rapping, I haven’t rapped in more than 8 years”

“Wanna have a rap battle?” Namjoon wiggles his brows, standing up abruptly and nearly knocking Jin off the edge.

“Fuck, yeah!”

You can’t even think – your mind barely registering your surroundings. You feel awful. You want to throw up, cry, and cry again. Hoseok sits next to you, flushed red to his ears with a blank expression on his face, you find it is quite a funny sight. You giggle stupidly despite the acid churning in your stomach, threatening to climb up and spill everything you’ve eaten today.

Jungkook is staring at the ceiling, legs spread apart - he whispers, “Do you hate me, Y/N?”

You don’t hear.

Gibberish resounds in the room as Yoongi spits out random lyrics. Your eyes flutter shut, head bobbing to what seems like fantastic rap in your alcohol induced state.

“Ha!” Taehyung cackles, “Yoongi is so gonna beat Namjoon!” Arms find purchase at his sides, as he doubles over laughing.

“Naaah! I have my bets on Jooniiie! You hear that Yoongles? Namjoon is going to beat you, and my love for candles will live on! Come on, Joon!”

“Jungkook,” you hum absentmindedly, heart reaching out before your mind has time to react, “why do you always leave me?”

His neck turns abruptly, gaze burning holes into your stirring form. Did you just speak to him?

Your eyes droop, and you fight the urge to fall asleep, “well?”

“Y/N,” he starts, ignoring your question and opting to beg instead, “please forgive me,” he whimpers - barely audible in the mindless chatter that drowns the room. His sweet features bear unmistakable pain and regret – just like they always do when he comes slithering back.

“No – I want to know why.” You demand, the pitch of your tone a tad whiny under all the intoxication.

“Please – forgive me –“

Your eyes threaten to give out.

“Why do you always leave me?” You whisper, a tiny sob retches from your lips before you pass out.

You have been able to avoid Jungkook for the past 4 days. He hasn’t texted nor called you; and even though you say to yourself that it is necessary, a small part of you craves his mere presence.

You’re done with work, after an exhausting night of photocopying sheets and sheets of paper your boss ‘absolutely’ needed, you finally head home – at 10 p.m.

The sad part is, you always end up working overtime – your superior seems to like making you suffer.

You grumble at the thought of her high heels and her ruby red lipstick, the shape of her pantsuit taking on her perfect curves. You admire her level of sophistication, one you can never achieve – but bitterness doesn’t fail to invade you at the thought of her commandeering voice when she orders you to photocopy her stupid forms.

The lack of an elevator in your building makes you all the more grumpy, when you realize you have to hike up 5 flights of stairs just to reach your apartment. With a tired sigh, you take off your heels, carrying them in your hand as you walk bare-footed up the stairs.

By the time you reach the fourth floor, you’re out of breath. You heave, placing a palm on your knee and scolding yourself for procrastinating about hitting the gym.

One more floor.

You turn on the light when you make it to your floor, and almost scream when you finally see the shape that sits at the side of your door. He stands up immediately brushing off his black jeans, dark circles under his dimly lit eyes – so you haven’t been the only one that hasn’t been getting enough sleep.

“Jungkook, what are you doing here?”

You can’t help the horrified expression bearing your face – you don’t know what to do.

“Y/N, we need to talk,” he looks frustrated, the strands of his hair tussled, and lower lip swollen from the abuse of his teeth.

“I –“ you almost choke from the big breath of air you take, “It’s not a good idea, Jungkook.”

You try to sidestep him to get to the door, the key shaking in your grasp. He blocks you, “No, don’t do this, hear me out – “

“– why should I?” you hiss, anger filled eyes searching his own.

“Just, please – just – I won’t try anything, ok?” The way his eyes are wide in a plea, makes him so hard to ignore – so you cave, like you always do.

“Fine,” you whisper, opening the door to your apartment and allowing Jungkook to enter.

He steps in behind you, a small sigh leaving his lips, because he has missed your apartment and the way it smells like you. It’s always been so homely, so you – the way you sometimes leave your clothes scattered around from lack of time, or how you always leave small notes on the fridge that remind you of the things you know you would forget.

“Please take off your shoes – oh”

But, they’re already off, and he walks ahead of you, entering the living room. He sits on the couch, hands securely placed on his thighs, rubbing them up and down nervously.

“You can take off your jacket – I’m going to change.” You inform, then proceed to sprint to your bedroom and shut the door behind you.

“Oh my god, oh my god!”

Panicking, you drop your shoes next to your bed mindlessly and scroll through your messages, finding the exchange between you and Jimin.

A message to chimchim:

[Jimin! JIMIN! HELP! JUNGKOOK IS IN MY APARTMENT, I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO!]

The time you have to wait for his reply seems infinite despite it being only 3 mins.

A message from chimchim:

[wtf? How?]

[okay, uuuuh]

[just play it cool!]

[BE FIRM!]

[don’t give him a window of opportunity, Y/N!]

[you’ll have to explain how the fuck all of this happened!]

[it better be good!]

The series of dings you receive serve to calm the fast thrum of your heart. You take a deep breath, typing in an answer.

A message to chimchim:

[ok. Thank you, Jimin.]

[I love you]

You throw your phone on your bed, ungracefully ditching your skirt and blouse in haste. You rummage through your drawer, dressed in your bra and unattractive pair of underwear. You throw on a random sweater and a large pair of sweatpants.

You patter your way to the living room, Jungkook in the same position you left him in, staring into space.

“Do you want coffee?” you ask softly, breaking his train of thoughts, his head snaps up taking in your form. He nods, “yeah, that would be nice…”

Your kitchen is a slight mess – the sink is charged with dishes, and you forgot to sweep up the abundance of crumbs you spilled on the floor in a hurry to get to work. You place the task to clean up at the far end of your mind, turning on the kettle. The pop of the switch resonates unpleasantly in your ear, the sound amplified in your state of fatigue.

You pull out two mugs from your cupboard, almost dropping them when you notice Jungkook’s old mug peeking out, from the back. It is nestled behind your unnecessarily large number of motivational cups.

You find it hard to breathe again, the sudden memory of him using the mug a copious amount of times, the way he laughed while holding it in his two hands, surges to the forefront of your ridiculous mind.

You push some of your other mugs in front of it, hiding it from view. You close your cupboards with a light bang, making the wall vibrate with the force. You wince, afraid to have disturbed the neighbors. Grimace invading your features, you make the coffee, and stir the finished product with a tea spoon.

You gulp and exit the open kitchen, feet meeting the soft carpet of your living room – the padding muffles the patter of your feet.

“Here’s your coffee.”

Jungkook jumps at the sound of your voice, flustered and lips parted, ring glistening wetly under the warm hue of your lamp.

“Thank you.”

You sit down next to him, placing your mug carefully on the coffee table and turn to face him, eager to get to the point so you could get this over with.

He copies your flow of movement, eyes meeting yours. You shuffle back, the proximity, taking you by surprise and rendering you speechless under his intense stare.

“S-so – uh –“ the nervous tap of your foot starts, and his eyes fly to the tic for a split second before landing back on your face, “what did you want to talk about?”

“I just wanted to say that I missed you – “

All the air that fuels your lungs, leaves your body in a big whoosh. You feel as if someone punched you in the gut, hating the impact his simple words have on you. Jungkook watches the way you react to him with greedy eyes – he rushes to speak again.

“I’m not going to say anything more, because I know you don’t want to hear it – but please let me stay a little bit longer, I’ve missed being near you.”

And there it goes again, the ridiculous pounding of your heart.

“I-I don’t think it’s a good ide – “

He cuts you off, “please?”

You dare to look at his pretty eyes, and they always get you. Your body language gives Jungkook an idea of what your answer will be, and relief floods his system.

With slumped shoulders, you whisper, “Okay.”

You reach for the remote and turn on the television. The recorded laughter of an audience sounds in the room as reruns of The Big Bang Theory fill the screen.

You avert your eyes to the tv, trying your best to ignore the way Jungkook’s warm stare heats up your body in an embarrassing way. Pulling your thoughts out of the gutter, you are determined to keep focus on the episode of where Sheldon and Amy finally have sex – at least someone is getting it.

You cough, shifting uncomfortably with the mixture of your thoughts and Jungkook’s burning gaze. You try not to get any ideas, convincing yourself that there is no specific reason that he is looking at you that way.

You watch the screen intently, directing your attention on the way Sheldon knocks repeatedly on Penny’s door. Over the course of two episodes, Jungkook’s gaze never dies down – you find it only gets harder to brush off.

Slowly, but sweetly the thunderous cloud starts to form over your heads again. The tension suffocating and mortifying – the coffee you drink suddenly feels too hot and the weight of your sweater too heavy.

You inhale deeply, ignoring the way a bead of sweat slides down your temple, and Jungkook’s eyes trail the trajectory down to your throat. His incessant staring grows hotter second by second, and what was supposed to be innocent in the beginning, now turns into something dark – sinful in the way he licks his lower lip unconsciously.

Times seems to stop. Each second grows longer than the other, mocking you and enjoying the torture inflicted upon you with Jungkook in the same room, and yet so unattainable. But, with the temperature of your body steadily rising, and the lack of an opened window, it is almost as if you forget the reason you aren’t jumping Jungkook.

Thoughts of controlling himself are thrown down the drain, and the fox-like side of him comes out to play.

“Y/N?” He hums, inching a little too close to you.

“Yes, Jungkook?”

You both stay at a stand still for a moment, studying the other earnestly. Jungkook stalks you like a lion, nearly positioned on all fours, as he takes in your flustered state – lips parted so invitingly and chest heaving up and down to take in the minimal air that oxygenates the room. One of your knees is propped up on the bed, while the other dangles off the edge – a slightly protective stance but a welcoming one nonetheless.

“Y/N –“ he breathes - the sound dripping with sexual intent and so enticing it has you whimper.

The momentum is broken – and Jungkook lunges for his prey.

You jump to meet his lips, the warm pillowy flesh molding with your dry ones, the sizzling metal of his ring engraving itself into your memory. His hands find your lower back sliding to your ass and down your thigh, hoisting it up as he lies you down. You savor the rough feel of his lips, his teeth coming out to tease your own, and tugging at them till it stings. The way your fingers card through his black hair, has him growling, his grip on your thigh tightening enough to bruise.

“God,” he parts from you, sound wet and crude. His thumb comes up to swipe your lips, parting the swollen flesh and trailing the slickness of your mixed saliva to your pulse point, pressing on it lightly. “I’ve missed you so much,” he presses harder against the beat of your heart, enjoying how it rushes at his touch. “I missed the way you react so easily to my touch,” he replaces his thumb with his tongue, laving the spot gently with the muscle – the sensation has you shuddering.

He squeezes your thigh harder, pulling you closer when you arch your back, eager to press your body into his, to feel the curve of his crotch.

“Did you miss me, Y/N?”

You moan in agreement, drawing his lips back to yours and tasting the metal punctured in his lower one. He smiles, “Hm – someone’s desperate,” his hand leaves the dip of your ass, making way to the juncture between your legs.

Jungkook presses his palm to your pussy, stimulating your clit through the cotton of your pants, and you gasp, a whine following your sharp intake. He kisses your chin delicately, proceeding to dip down your neck and lick a stripe all the way to your wanting mouth. “Tell me,” he presses down harder, “you must’ve been pretty deprived to act so needy – how long has it been since somebody took care of your pretty cunt.”

You close your eyes, lips parted but no sound escaping them – he brings his hand forth again, “nphmg.”

“Come on. Answer, Y/N.” he grazes his tongue against your collarbone.

“Since you left, God –“ you moan as he palms at your core relentlessly, “ – you left.”

Whimpering, you repeat, “you left me – God, you left me.” The mist that fogged your thoughts clears.

Jungkook freezes and fear overrides his lust, “W-what?”

“Stop, Jungkook, stop –“ you struggle to escape the way his body cages you in, reason making way into your mind.

He reels back to other end of the couch, lips swollen, and expression dazed. His eyes contain a mix of confusion and hurt, so different from the dominance they held moments ago.

Breath uneven, you stare at him. No. The memories of all the times you woke up to an empty bed haunt your vision, and suddenly, the light you see Jungkook under, changes. The warm colors of your lamp now cast a dark glow on his angelic features, entangling him with thorns. So beautiful, but unattainable. Just like he always wanted.

“I think you need to leave,” you whisper, looking down to where your pants stick to your sweaty skin.

You don’t bother to look as he gets up, pulling your legs to your chest and hugging them in search of comfort. He wordlessly makes his way to your front door and leaves. As soon as you hear the metal close on it’s hinges, a sob retches from your throat, sound echoing throughout the empty apartment.

↝ Masterlist ↜

(A/N: there is going to be a part 2, might focus on other things first, though. Feedback is really, really appreciated, if you want a second part please say so.)

#bts smut #jungkook smut #bts #bangtan smut #Jungkook angst #bts jungkook #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x reader #bts scenarios #one shot #bts one shot #jeon jungkook #kpopwonderlandtag #prettyboysnetwork #bangtanarmynet #kwordsmiths #bangtanbuds

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nadiineross · 6 years

Text

requested by @csquirrel27

35. “Well this is awkward”

Skidding down a steep hill half on her arse isn’t something a seasoned treasure hunter like her would ever let happen. A well-placed rock and a wandering attention span say otherwise.

On the bright side, Chloe thinks as she barrels to the foot of the death slide she’s been unwillingly thrust upon, Nadine’s looking the other way right now, so there’s no one to witness the look of sheer panic on her face as her fingers fail to find traction, slipping uselessly over clumps of mud.

The downside: Nadine, already at the bottom, is a bright red target in Chloe’s way.

Shrieking, dignity left behind with the rock she’d tripped over, she finds that while Nadine looks all stiff and muscular, she actually makes for a wonderful crash mat. Nadine, who groans underneath her, seems to disagree.

It’s not a happy groan. A sound so disgruntled coming from someone underneath her, flush against her front, is entirely unsurprising considering the situation, but it’s a first for Chloe, a fact that she is not particularly fond of.

Nadine happens to bring about a lot of Chloe’s firsts (not the ones that count, mind you). Examples: having a long-term partner in crime and crashing into said partner after sliding down a muddy hill. Both firsts.

Chloe’s body is limp on Nadine’s back; their limbs are splayed out to their sides and mud clings to their skin.

“Ugh, sorry, love,” Chloe says through gritted teeth, then she tries to push herself up. It doesn’t work out that well considering she’s still recovering from the slip, but at least she’s taking some of the weight off Nadine. “You all right?”

Nadine exerts some effort into rolling onto her back to glare at her. Her inhalations are a little weird, breathless, and it occurs to Chloe that she’d probably knocked the wind out of her. Again, not in the way she’d like it.

Chloe’s arms wobble. Everything is slippery from the mud, making it harder for her to hold herself up.

Before she can simply let one arm buckle so she falls off to the side, Nadine senses her lack of balance and grabs onto her, keeping her steady. It also means she can’t shuffle away.

Not one to complain about a pretty girl holding her still, Chloe sinks a little lower, relying on Nadine to hold her up.

“Well,” she says, faces barely twenty centimetres apart, “this is awkward.”

Nadine snorts. “Watch where you’re sliding next time.”

“Or I could go first.” Chloe grins. The hands on her biceps are calloused and warm, a feeling she decidedly likes. Very much so.

She dips even lower still. Nadine doesn’t say anything, doesn’t look away or stop smiling, but Chloe’s not about to push it, so she stays put after that. She’s enjoying the time she’s been allowed to be pressed up against Nadine — this time, no one’s shooting at them from around a corner and, more importantly, they’re horizontal.

A bird squawks nearby, jerking Chloe out of her reverie. She shifts her eyes to the treetops out of instinct, squinting at the branches.

Suddenly, Nadine turns, effortlessly discarding Chloe onto her side. “If you walked faster, you could go first.”

Chloe huffs and yanks at Nadine’s shirt before she can sit up properly and put more distance between them.

Raising an eyebrow, Nadine looks over at her. “You need help standing up, too?”

“Now that you mention it...”

Nadine laughs as she pries Chloe’s fingers off her shirt, only to hold out a hand for Chloe to take once she’s standing.

It’s funny to think that people quake at the sight of Nadine. Chloe might be biased, considering it’s only her that Nadine smiles so softly, so widely at. She has a terrible habit of being endearingly charming while also looking like she could rip Chloe in half. Frankly, it’s distressing.

(Chloe wonders if she could sue Nadine for unintentionally causing heart palpitations.)

An unpleasant case of vertigo pulses through her head once she’s hoisted up. This, she doubts is Nadine’s fault, considering she’s just sped down a slope rather ungracefully. Unsteady, she sways forward and tightens her grip on Nadine.

Nadine frowns and reaches a gentle hand out to touch her cheek. Chloe exhales, quiet and fast through her nose.

“You’re not going to faint, are you?”

It takes a moment for Chloe to gather her wits, blinking rapidly at Nadine.

Then, after a moment, an impish grin and: “Just a little lightheaded, love, but if you’re going to catch me, I’ll make it happen.”

“You’re ridiculous.” Despite the scowl, Nadine hasn’t let go of her either.

Emboldened by the fingertips at her cheek, Chloe grips Nadine’s forearm tighter. “Oh, I think it’s happening.” She wobbles forward, pushing her forehead into the part of Nadine’s neck where it meets her shoulder. “Yep. You better catch me.”

After India, she’d found that Nadine was more likely to acquiesce to Chloe’s silly whims if there weren’t any looming threats like a warmonger and his army. Even so, she’s surprised when Nadine’s chest rumbles with a laugh beneath her mud-caked forehead, and when her hands slide to Chloe’s back, just under her shoulder blades.

Mourning the loss of Nadine’s fingers on her face and left empty-handed, Chloe finds herself grazing her hands over Nadine’s biceps just to keep them on something warm.

“Can’t have a concussed partner if I want to find my treasure,” Nadine says, lightly.

“First of all, our treasure,” Chloe huffs, drawing back to meet Nadine’s eyes. “Secondly, it might be a little late for that, because I’m considering something just a tad reckless and maybe the good sense has already been knocked out of me.”

“What sense?”

She doesn’t even glare at the quip, can’t, really. Instead, she says, “Exactly.”

Nadine’s response to that is a surprised sound from the back of her throat, muffled by Chloe’s lips.

Chloe can pinpoint the exact moment Nadine registers what’s happening. Her physical response is sudden but smooth in a way only Nadine could pull off.

Her hands snake farther down, around Chloe’s lower back, and she opens her mouth to deepen the kiss, eyes fluttering shut.

The way her middle relaxes, melts, into Chloe and her biceps tense has her pushing in for more.

She wouldn’t call it desperate, because Chloe Frazer is not a desperate person, but it’s certainly feverish. The buzzing happiness in the pit of her stomach has her giddy, has her slinging her arms around Nadine’s neck and hauling their bodies closer into each other.

When they part, Chloe finds Nadine staring at her from behind her lashes, forehead hot against her own, lips parted slightly as she sucks in a breath.

She is a sight to behold.

Nadine’s mouth twitches upwards into the beginnings of a pretty smile, eyes bright and eyebrows drawn up in a way that tells Chloe she’s about to be made fun of.

That simply won’t do, so she closes the distance and swallows whatever Nadine’s about to say next with another hungry kiss.

A beat passes, maybe two.

This time, Nadine pulls back first, face split into a wide grin as she withdraws her arms to cover Chloe’s hips half an arm’s distance away.

Never one to be shut up, especially by her wiseass partner, she smooths a thumb over the wrinkles in Chloe’s shirt where it’s haphazardly stuffed into her waistband and says, “You’re like a koala.”

Chloe huffs indignantly, but the way Nadine said it, voice rough and teasing, cushions any sort of insult.

“Well, I am Australian.”

Nadine only widens her grin, not saying a word. A sudden bout of nervousness swells in her throat and she has to swallow it quickly before speaking again.

“You’re beautiful.” Somehow saying the truth helps her quell her nerves.

Chloe rubs a bit of mud speckled across Nadine’s cheek off with her thumb and finds it flushed under her palm. She welcomes her confidence and bravado back with a smirk.

“Blushing.”

“Idiot,” she mutters with a roll of her eyes, stunning Chloe when she only tilts her head into her palm and kisses the skin at the heel of her hand.

Determined to make Nadine go bright red, Chloe clasps both hands over the sides of Nadine’s face and grins in a way that screams adoration and delight. “Beautiful blushing Nadine Ross.”

A flash of annoyance crosses Nadine’s face, though it disappears quickly when she starts leaning in.

She takes a step forward, the clasps of their belts meeting between them with a dull clunk. The proximity prompts Chloe to close her eyes, inhaling sharply as her fingers flex on instinct.

Gently, slowly, Nadine presses her forehead to Chloe’s. She watches Chloe intently, lips sliding into a lopsided grin when Chloe’s tongue peeks out to wet her lips.

Only a hair’s width away, Nadine stills. “Desperate.”

That wipes any remaining trace of smugness off Chloe’s face.

Nadine laughs as she nudges Chloe away completely. Her entire front is drenched in thick brown mud, so she pulls her shirt over her head, slinging it over her shoulder, and puts a hand on her hip. Chloe stares.

Well aware of the eyes on her midriff, she smirks and turns. Chloe, predictably, follows.

“Let’s go get our treasure.”

#i wrote this months ago but i was never happy with it but u kno what i rly dont care anymore! here u go ive been editing for the past week #chlodine #tll #idk what i tag with anymore #hopefully yall enjoy!

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