#i want it to make your throat feel uncomfortable. am i achieving that? i hope i am. thats tubes dude!!! like cmahn!

[wandabear]

WISH YOU WERE HERE - WANDA MAXIMOFF X FEMALE READER

ㅤㅤ Summary: 17 years ago, a New Jersey high school girls’ soccer team travels to Seattle for a national tournament. While flying over Canada, their plane crashes deep in the wilderness, and the surviving team members are left stranded for nineteen months.

Jules is portrayed by Adelaide Kane. Here.

chapter warnings: smut, angst, mentions of drug abuse and death.

CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN FINALE ㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤCHAPTER FIVE

ㅤㅤBEFORE

ㅤㅤ

Two weeks passed since the accident and since they found the cabin with the dead man inside, and nothing changed. No plane or rescue team had arrived for them, which meant that hope was dying and supplies were scarce.

ㅤㅤ

“So, do you think the guy shot himself?” One of the girls whispered. “He left some kind of note?”

ㅤㅤ

“Just that weird symbol.” Carol frowned at her somewhat disturbed. Ever since they found this man, they all had questions to ask that no one answered.

ㅤㅤ

“Maybe he couldn't stand loneliness and shot himself.” Pietro shrugged and looked at the rifle that was standing against the wall of the cabin. “We should take the rifle and try to get something to eat.”

ㅤㅤ

“Maybe it didn't want him to leave.” Jules murmured thoughtfully, looking at a fixed point among the trees. Since they arrived, she Jules had not stopped feeling a little uncomfortable there.

ㅤㅤ

“Shut the fuck up you and your ominous crap. You're going to scare everyone just because you're a little hysterical.” Grant groaned, completely sick of listing to that girl muttering weird stuff.

The man was barely holding on to a wooden crutch made from branches, but it wasn't enough to stay upright for long.

ㅤㅤ

Far from answering that with any sarcastic comment, Jules just looked away and crossed her arms a bit embarrassed.

ㅤㅤ

“Hey, don't talk to her like that again.” Natasha defended her, getting ahead of Y/N.

ㅤㅤ

“Hey, HEY! I think we should talk about the huge problem instead.” Wanda cleared her throat, trying to change the subject. “We're out of food. We're all feeling it.”

ㅤㅤ

Everyone was silent, the hunger they felt was beginning to make everything worse. Any small fight ended in shouting or bad mood.

ㅤㅤ

“Now, the good news is my father used to take me deer hunting every year as a kid.” Grant grunted and slowly, awkwardly reached for the rifle and held it up. “The bad news... yeah, I am down to one fucking leg.”

ㅤㅤ

The man clenched his jaw, trying to stay strong and keep feel that superiority, but it was more difficult when they looked at him with pity. “Which means that if we want to eat, one of you is gonna have to learn how to use this thing.”

ㅤㅤ

They all nodded, Natasha raised her hand saying that her father taught her to shoot and she was willing to teach Y/N or Pietro to do it. Maybe it took a while, but they managed to group up to go out and hunt. ㅤㅤ

That morning, Y/N, Pietro and Natasha left the cabin ready to find something to hunt. Even though neither of them seemed happy with hurting an animal, eating nothing but mushroom soup for days was starting to weigh on them.

ㅤㅤ

Many hours later, the sun was going down and Wanda began to feel anxious. She tried to convince herself that it was just because of Pietro, but deep down she knew that she also cared about Y/N. She came back with some 'clean' blankets in her arms, they had left several clothes drying outside.

ㅤㅤ

The cabin was a bit more cleaner, enough for them to stop breathing dust. As long as they all helped keep it that way. Some cheering made Wanda come out of the cabin, she finally smiled widely.

ㅤㅤ

“They did it!” Kate exclaimed happily seeing how Pietro, Y/N and Nat were carrying a deer. It didn't seem very big but enough to have food for a few days.

ㅤㅤ

Everyone came closer to see it, they seemed a little tired but definitely happy for what they had achieved.

ㅤㅤ

“Nice work, you guys.” Wanda put her hands on her hips, looking at the deer. She felt a bit sorry but she also understood that they were about to starve.

ㅤㅤ

“Yeah.” Pietro smiled broadly and placed a hand on the girl's shoulder.  “It was all Y/N.”

ㅤㅤ

“She did great.” Nat smiled too, they all started screaming excited to understand that it was the first sign that they could survive in that place, without knowing what awaited them next.

ㅤㅤ

Night came and they were grateful that the beginning of autumn treated them well for now. They were all surrounding the campfire, Kate and Jennifer were in charge of roast it and distributing the pieces of meat to the girls who looked starving.

ㅤㅤ

“Are you okay?”

ㅤㅤ

Pietro's voice took Wanda from her thoughts, while she slowly ate.

ㅤㅤ

“Yeah, better now.”

ㅤㅤ

“I was so hungry.” Pietro sighed then finished his first piece of meat, reaching out for another.

ㅤㅤ

“Yeah, me too.”  Wanda said as she wiped her lips. She noticed how the boy devoured the meat, so hungry, Wanda felt so guilty.

ㅤㅤ

“I'm sorry I brought you here.” She lowered her gaze.  “I know you came just for me.”

ㅤㅤ

Quickly, Pietro looked up and frowned, genuinely concerned. “No, sestra. Don’t be sorry.” He put his hand on Wanda's shoulder, who kept looking at the ground. “I would never leave you alone, you know that. This is not your fault, this was an accident.”

ㅤㅤ

“Okay?” Pietro held his gaze until Wanda nodded.

ㅤㅤ

“This is good, not as good as mom’s Chicken Paprikash but good.” He pointed at the food, making her sister smile. It was all he wanted, to take a great weight off the girl's heart.

ㅤㅤ

Wanda looked up and noticed that Y/N was chatting and smiling with Jennifer. She wondered what she was talking about, what was it that made her so excited?

ㅤㅤ

“You’re close to Y/N lately.” Pietro teased, trying not to smile.

ㅤㅤ

“Yeah, is it bad?” Wanda turned to see him, she sounded a bit worried.

ㅤㅤ

“No, not at all.” The boy took a bite. “She’s nice, all these crazy women, Y/n is who I like best.”

ㅤㅤ

Wanda said nothing, just smiled tenderly and then fell silent.

The connection between the two had always been so strong, both twins were so close and although sometimes it was the object of mocks, they considered that connection something incredible.

ㅤㅤ

“Do you think they will rescue us?” Wanda asked a little more seriously this time, she needed her brother's sincerity now.

ㅤㅤ

“I don't know, Wanda. What Y/N is right about is… if they wanted to, they would already be here.” Pietro sighed, didn't want to talk about what he felt cause he didn't want to make her feel worse, but that was the truth, more than a week and they hadn’t received any kind of signal that people were looking for them.

ㅤㅤ

Not planes. No rescue helicopters. Nothing.

ㅤㅤ

“Did you apologize to Jules?” Wanda raised an eyebrow.

ㅤㅤ

“I did it.” Pietro smiled and nodded. “I think I saved her from stepping in a bear trap two days ago, and apparently, we're even.”

ㅤㅤ

“That’s good.” She smiled at the boy and squeezed his cheek, noticing how grown his beard was.  “Look at you, your beard has already grown.”

ㅤㅤ

“Oh, fuck off!” He pushed her hand away and they both laughed.

ㅤㅤ

“I love you, Piet.”

ㅤㅤ

“I love you, sestra.”

ㅤㅤ

Nodding, Pietro got up so he could go check that everything was alright with the Coach Ward, who seemed to be a bit distant from the girls. Recently, Pietro was the only one Ward let near or talk to.

ㅤㅤ

Seeing that now Wanda was alone, Y/N approached, sitting next to her on that log.

ㅤㅤ

“Hi.” Wanda smiled trying to hide that strange 'joy' inside. Why was her heart beating so fast?

ㅤㅤ

“How are you doing?” Y/N asked looking at her, noticing how beautiful she looked when the fire lit those green eyes. Maybe it was because almost two weeks ago they were in that place and everything seemed to get more intense but, wow, Wanda was so beautiful.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I’m good, how about you? I didn't see you today.”

ㅤㅤ

“Yeah. Killed a deer today so…” Y/N sighed and lowered her gaze somewhat embarrassed. More sad than embarrassed though.  

ㅤㅤ

Wanda hesitated for a moment but ended up gently squeezing the girl's hand. “I’m sorry.”

ㅤㅤ

“It’s okay, at least we have to eat. We needed this.”

ㅤㅤ The relationship with Wanda improved so much after the accident. After the fight at the party, both of them made up and improved their friendship. And Y/N was very grateful for this, although her best friends were there, the connection with Wanda was completely different.

ㅤㅤ

“Hey, you two.” Carol walked ahead of them making smooch noises, winking at Y/N.

ㅤㅤ

Y/N shook her head and noticed how Wanda quickly removed her hand, not out of embarrassment but out of fear that Y/N would be mocked because of her.

ㅤㅤ

“Hey. Do you want to go walk near the lake?” Y/N got up and stretched out her hand towards her, waiting for her to take it. “I can take the rifle if it makes you feel safer.”

ㅤㅤ

“Won't we get lost?” Wanda asked a bit worried but also an excited shine could be seen in her eyes. As if it was something forbidden and interesting, what more could they lose?

ㅤㅤ

“I know the way, Natasha owes me one so maybe she'll let us go. I found a nice place that nobody else knows about.” She turned to see how some girls kept laughing and chatting about boys now. “If you want to get away from all this mess, sure.”

ㅤㅤ

Biting her bottom lip, Wanda didn't have to think too hard. She took her hand and ended getting up.  “Yeah, I would like to.”

ㅤㅤ

They managed to escape from the place without anyone seeing them, but not before telling Natasha because otherwise she would start lecturing them and that was not the idea.

ㅤㅤ Y/N took the rifle and one of the gas lamps, both walked through the trees, following a path that only Y/N seemed to know.

ㅤㅤ

“Are you sure about this” Wanda asked worriedly as they walked down the path towards the lake.

ㅤㅤ

“Every day I walk through the same place. Nat asked me to start drawing some things to make a map.” Y/N reached into her pocket and pulled out a piece of paper, handing it over.

ㅤㅤ

Wanda opened it but couldn't see much, just some lines and the cabin drawn in the middle. Y/N moved the lamp closer so she could see better.

ㅤㅤ

“I found this place when I was drawing the path to the lake and the place where the edible mushrooms grew.” Y/N kept walking and took a path to the left, behind some huge boulders. She helped Wanda so that she could climb them carefully, and after a few minutes, they both found themselves with a beautiful view of the lake and the huge starry sky above them. The moonlight made the lake look beautiful.

The trees and the boulders covered them, making it a perfect private place.

ㅤㅤ

“Y/N, this is good.” Wanda smiled widely, looking around.

ㅤㅤ

Y/N just smiled happy, both lay back on the grass watching the sky, enjoying the sound of the forest. After so many days, far from seeming creepy, they began to find some comfort in those sounds that they now recognized.

The hooting, the sound of crickets, the fluttering of birds.

ㅤㅤ

“Look at all those stars.” Wanda whispered completely gawking. “I never thought there were so many above us.”

ㅤㅤ

“Without light pollution it looks so beautiful.” Y/N sighed heavily, arms crossed behind her head. She didn't know how long it had been since they left the cabin, maybe a few minutes or an hour, she didn't know. Didn't care either.

ㅤㅤ

“Pretty.” The sokovian whispered.

ㅤㅤ

Pretty. 'That's what you are' Y/N thought when she turned to see the girl beside her.

ㅤㅤ

Wanda was so damn beautiful. Just look at those eyes, so pretty and big, curious to know everything life had to offer her. That adorable nose, she loved when Wanda scrunched it. Those lips, surely they were soft and sweet.

ㅤㅤ

“Wanda, I'd like to talk to you.” Y/N finally took courage, betting her whole heart on a single play.

ㅤㅤ

“You know you can tell me anything. What's going on?” Wanda turned to see her, worried. Y/N seemed a bit nervous, without a doubt it must be quite important.

ㅤㅤ

“I like you.” The girl released without waiting another second, leaving her heart open. But far from seeming like a confession of love, it seemed more like a release. Y/N sighed and sat up. “I'm sorry. I know you have a boyfriend, but even though it's obvious... and everyone knows it.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Wanda said nothing. She was surprised and not at the same time, she always knew it and she knew it right now. Every kind smile when others teased her, every laugh they shared, every word of support.

ㅤㅤ

She knew that Y/N had a crush on her, why fake it? What she didn't understand is why.

ㅤㅤ

“I thought it would be nice to tell you myself.” Y/N smiled shily, playing with her fingers. “We're lost in the woods waiting to be rescued, and I don't have the time or the strength to hide my feelings. It's so fucking tiring… so that’s it. If that makes you uncomfortable, we'll have to deal with it."

ㅤㅤ

“I'm in love with you.” Y/N breathed out deeply and closed her eyes, the secret finally out and it felt so much better.

ㅤㅤ

Silence reigned for a moment until Wanda reached out her hand, taking hers.

ㅤㅤ

“Y/N? Please, open your pretty eyes.” Wanda asked with a soft voice and a loving look. And when she finally did, the brunette asked: “Y/N, what’s my favorite song?”

ㅤㅤ

Y/N frowned, not understanding what she meant by knowing that, but the sokovian insisted.

ㅤㅤ “Umh... I've noticed that you like 'Fade Into You', I've seen you rewind your cassette twice until you get to that song.” Y/N said sincerely but then she realized that maybe it sounded like she was keeping an eye on her or something, maybe Wanda would think it's weird. She quickly added, “It's not like I see you too much.”

ㅤㅤ

But Wanda nodded slowly. “What are my favorite candies?”

ㅤㅤ

“Twizzlers. You always eat them when you get all anxious in our matches.” Y/N answered again, feeling how her heart kept beating fast but the tension faded slowly.

ㅤㅤ

Wanda finally smiled, her eyes showing the tenderness and excitement she felt.  

ㅤㅤ

The times she had asked Vision that, well, the boy didn't know what to say. First he answered any popular song, and then he said 'had no idea what kind of sweets you ate because who looks at those things? I can buy you anything you want, just tell me.'

ㅤㅤ

“You really know me.” Wanda felt her eyes fill with tears, but she didn't shed any.

ㅤㅤ

“Well, yeah, that's why I like you. I do and… I wanna know more, if you let me.”

ㅤㅤ

“I like you too.” The sokovian blurted out, not caring about anything other than that moment. What else did it matter? They were in the middle of the forest, lost, trying to survive.

ㅤㅤ

And her heart just asked to be close to her, it always did, from the moment Y/N defended her from Sharon Carter.

Well, that was something Y/N didn't expect at all. With a dumbfounded face, unable to believe it, all she could say was:  “R-Really?”

ㅤㅤ

“I do.” Wanda bit her lower lip, as a signal which Y/N caught perfectly. She kissed Wanda's lips in a soft first kiss, enjoying that exquisite sensation. Hearts intertwining, two teenagers completely in love.

ㅤㅤ

“Is it wrong?” The sokovian whispered against her lips, barely breaking away. She felt completely enraptured in that feeling, so different from her when she kissed Vision.

ㅤㅤ

The truth is that Vision and Wanda had never gone far, just a few little kisses and caresses. The boy tried a few times to go further but Wanda always said that she wanted to wait. Now, she felt that self-control with y/n didn't exist.

ㅤㅤ

Y/N quickly shook her head, touching softly the brunette's cheek. “I don't think liking or loving someone is wrong.” She sighed, still sharing that closeness. “So, can I keep kissing you?”

ㅤㅤ

Wanda smirked, shortening the distance to kiss again. “Good, because your kisses are so damn good.”

ㅤㅤ

Both giggled before kissing again, only the stars being the witnesses of that youthful love that was born.

ㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤNOW

ㅤㅤ

The days passed and there was no news of the blackmailer. Maybe because money cooled things down, but not the concern of all of them knowing that they were outsmarted.

ㅤㅤ

Y/N was at the hotel, visited Jules some times, especially when Natasha was working. The doctor told them that the baby was in no danger yet, that no bleeding was positive, even when Jules told that she suffered a pretty bad blow.

ㅤㅤ

Doctor Cho said that they should be more careful and that so far everything seemed fine, but later they would know better with the ultrasound at the next week.

And the secrets cooled the relationship with Nat so much that, the redhead began to suspect that perhaps her beloved wasn’t happy. The silence at night became unbearable, and sadness weighed on their hearts.

ㅤㅤ

“Jules…” Nat said as she saw the brown-eyed woman come out of the bathroom with her huge T-shirt. She no longer slept in her panties, trying to provoke her. Sex had always been a big deal to them, the passion was increased by the unconditional love they felt.  “Are you going to talk to me?”

ㅤㅤ

Jules just curled up on the bed, trying to hide her face.  “Everything is fine, I'm a little tired.”

ㅤㅤ

“Okay, just tell me, what the hell is going on?” Nat sat up in bed, so done with this game. She was sick of all this strange tension that had been around them for a while. “I know you're hiding something, I know you since we were eleven. You've been so stealthy with Y/N, as if you were hiding a secret... and I am not worthy of  your trust.”

ㅤㅤ

“We have never been like this, Julia.” Those green eyes express the sadness and restlessness she felt.  “Don't you love me anymore?”

ㅤㅤ

Jules kept her back to her, trying not to cry when she heard the pain in Natasha's raspy voice.

ㅤㅤ

“Because if that's it, we can… we can try to go to those… You know? Couples therapy or whatever to get your love back. Or- or we can... I don't know, I don't want to let you go but, if you're not happy with me...” Natasha swallowed, the angst in her throat not letting her continue.

ㅤ

That was all Jules could bear. She turned quickly so she could see her, and that image completely destroyed her.

ㅤㅤ

“No, no, no.” Jules took her hand and hastened to erase any kind of doubt, she couldn't allow Natasha to doubt herself when she had always been wonderful. “Nat, that's not it, honey.”

ㅤ

“So what is it?” they entwined their fingers.

ㅤ

Jules hesitated for a moment, didn't know how to start. Just felt her eyes fill with tears.

ㅤ

“I don't want you to hate me.” The dark-haired girl sniffled. That worried Natasha even more, what was it that bothered her so much? So sad, that she couldn't even tell her.

ㅤ

“Moya lyubov, I would never hate you.” The redhead cooed softly, genuinely concerned about her, the love of her life.

ㅤ

“I’m pregnant.” Finally she let go, exhaling slowly.

ㅤㅤ

Couldn't take it anymore, soon her belly would start to show, what was the point of lying or keeping it as a secret? Lying to the person she loved the most in the world.

Natasha wasn't the type of woman to leave her just because she was pregnant, was she? No, she had always been an incredible, faithful, kind, loving, passionate woman. Maybe she was a little afraid of commitment at first but, once Natasha got over that fear, she was always there for Jules.

ㅤ “You… what?” The redhead blinked fast, it took her a few seconds to understand. Oh.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“I’m pregnant, the IUI worked but we didn't notice.” Jules swallowed hard and wiped away the tears falling down her cheeks.  Was so pale that those lovely cheeks turned red, as did her nose and lips from crying. “I found out  about a week ago... or more.”

ㅤㅤ

A huge smile, a hug, endless kisses. That was all Jules hoped for, but what she got was Natasha getting out of bed, completely shocked and a bit pissed off.

ㅤㅤ

“What the fuck, Julia?!” The russian exclaimed in disbelief. Quickly, Jules covered her face out of embarrassment.  “Really?”

ㅤㅤ

 “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I didn't want you to be mad at me and hate me!” She whimpered, completely devastated.

ㅤㅤ

“Of course I’m mad at you!” Natasha exclaimed. How could her wife hide something like that from her? “You went to the meeting with the blackmailer and you are pregnant!”

ㅤㅤ

But far from seeming bothered by the idea that they were having a baby, or terrified by it, Natasha was completely mad because her wife put her and their child's lives at risk by going with them.

ㅤㅤ

“You were punched in the stomach, for God's sake!” Nat hurried over to put a hand on Jules belly, extremely concerned. “Don’t fucking do that again!”

ㅤㅤ

Surprised by that, noticing the concern on her lover's face, Jules just sighed. Her eyes swollen from crying. “I’m fine. We’re fine.”

ㅤㅤ

“How are you so sure?” Natasha insisted, looking at her and then at her belly. She caressed it gently, those green eyes brimming with tears of emotion.

ㅤㅤ

Of course, she would never be upset by the idea of bringing a child into the world, perhaps a little scared because all this would bring consequences and she was afraid that exactly what happened, would happen. That they were in danger.

ㅤㅤ

“Dr. Cho said she didn't think there was any danger because there was no bleeding, but we would find out better on the ultrasound next week.”

ㅤㅤ

Natasha sighed with relief upon hearing those words, all she wanted is for the baby and her wife to be okay. Jules nodded slowly, carefully watching all the gestures and looks of Nat. She felt so dumb, so stupid, how could she have thought that Natasha would be mad at her? Although her words had made it seem like she was glad the IUI wasn't working, Nat would never turn her back on her kid.

ㅤㅤ

“You’re pregnant.” Nat whispered, then allowed herself to smile. She was finally beginning to realize what that meant.  “Oh my god, we're having a baby!”

ㅤㅤ

“We are!” Jules smiled wiping away her tears.

ㅤㅤ

“We’re going to be moms!” Natasha exclaimed excitedly, taking her wife's hands and then hugging her tightly. “We must take good care of the baby, okay? We have to. Promise me.”

ㅤㅤ

“I promise… Are you really happy about this?” Jules giggled through her tears, completely happy to see her redhead so excited about the pregnancy.

ㅤㅤ

“You’re kidding? I’m ecstatic!” Nat leaned down to kiss her lips over and over again until she crouched down, facing Jules belly. “Hello there, Зайчик… I’m your mama Natasha. Your other mom in fact, because you have two, and that means you're going to be very, very loved!” Nat kissed her belly and leaned her forehead against it, smiling widely. Oh, it felt so good. “We love you.”

ㅤㅤ

The redhead spent a while 'chatting' with her baby and Jules watched everything with a look of pure love, until they both decided to jump on the bed with happiness, celebrating that beautiful news.

ㅤㅤ

Since the meeting with the blackmailer that night, Wanda was more nervous than ever. She was grateful that her little ones were visiting their grandparents that weekend, allowing her to have a bit of peace for at least two days.

ㅤㅤ

The brunette walked around the house, taking some things that the twins left lying around and putting them in its place. She didn't mind having to do it anyway, it was just throwing the clothes in the washing machine and at least it kept her busy with something.

ㅤㅤ

“Fuck.” The brunette muttered under her breath when she saw a sock under the furniture, those kids left their stuff all over the place. Wanda end up sighing and bent down to take it but something shiny caught her eye. As if from the dark depths of that piece of furniture, something shamelessly winked at her.

A black t-shirt, but the most important thing was that when she took it, her hands were stained with glitter.

ㅤㅤ

Hands that began to tremble just by seeing the shirt; the blackmailer's son of a bitch was none other than her husband.

ㅤㅤ

"VISION!” She exclaimed aloud, rushing out of the room to head to the garage, where he had his office. She entered without further ado, breaking in that 'sanctuary'.

ㅤㅤ

"Wanda, what's going on?" the blond growled, clearly annoyed by the sudden invasion.

ㅤㅤ

“What is this?" She held up that black shirt, completely covered in glitter. It didn't take an answer, Vision's surprised and terrified look said it all.

ㅤㅤ

“Wanda, I-” He exhales. “Okay. I can explain this.”

ㅤㅤ

Of course he doesn't know how to do it, especially when Wanda's eyes widened. Oh, she was mad. “Oh, my God, Vision. What did you do?”

ㅤㅤ

“Okay, just-just…” He got up from his seat and tried to get closer but the brunette moved away, looking at him with a truly terrifying fury and disappointment.

ㅤㅤ

“What did you do?” Wanda hissed.

ㅤㅤ

“Just listen to me.” Vision closed the door. “You were never supposed to get involved in this.”

ㅤㅤ

Wanda remained still, waiting for a convincing answer.

ㅤㅤ

“It just... It got out of control.” The english man sighed and placed a hand across his face. “Listen, that damn store...”

ㅤㅤ

“Our store?” Wanda frowned and crossed her arms. Everything seemed to get worse and worse.

ㅤㅤ

“Yeah, but this new one... Bloody ElectronicsFam.com” He growled angrily. “They are running me out of business. They got virtually no overhead. They mass-produce all their own inventory. What the hell am I supposed to do?”

ㅤㅤ

The expression on the man's face only made Wanda want to slap him more and more. They had bought that store with the money the insurance gave her for the plane accident. She understood that Vision felt guilty but this was too much. “So you… you blackmailed us?”

ㅤㅤ

“Not you. I thought I had to...” Vision sighs, so defeated. “I thought... Jennifer, she's a lawyer and you know… maybe Y/N had the cash.”

ㅤㅤ

Wanda closed her eyes, trying not to explode. She obviously murmured some sokovian insults that the man couldn't even understand. He wasn't a bad man, but he was a complete jerk sometimes.

ㅤㅤ

“I mean, I was going to lose the store, Wanda. First, I took out a loan. I just... I-I got a loan from these people, all right?” As Vision spoke and explained the whole situation, Wanda began to think that the decision that was on her mind lokg time ago was the right one. “And it turns out that they were... they were bad.”

ㅤㅤ

Wanda inhales deeply. “Like... like loan sharks?”

ㅤㅤ

Vision just shook his head.

ㅤㅤ

“Like fucking mobsters, Vision?” The sokovian yelled furiously but Vision shooed her away. “Are they gonna kill us? Our kids? you didn't think of them! My god, Vision!”

ㅤㅤ

Of course she was terrified for her children.

ㅤㅤ

"Be quiet, Wanda!"

ㅤㅤ

"Don't tell me to shup up!" She snapped wildly, pointing at him. "Are they gonna do something to us?"

ㅤㅤ

“No, no! No! I paid 'em back. It's all good. No one is gonna die.”

ㅤㅤ

"My God, Vision." Wanda shook her head. “You have to pay Y/N.”

ㅤㅤ

"Wanda, you can't tell them it was me-" Horror flashed across the man's face. What if he went to jail?

ㅤㅤ

"You have to take responsibility for your actions, Vision. For fuck's sake, you just- they almost shoot you!"

ㅤㅤ

“What if they send me to jail? Natasha could do it.”

ㅤㅤ

“No one will do that. Just… get the damn money and you're going to pay it back, you hear me?” the brunette told him seriously, there was no way he could refuse that face of hers. She was adorable but a lot of times, she could scare you. "You're going to pay to Y/N, I'll apologize to them."

ㅤㅤ

Vision nodded quickly. "I'll do it, I swear for our children."

ㅤㅤ

Wanda sighed and walked towards the door, but not before giving a final stab. "And Vision? I want the divorce."

ㅤㅤ

"What?" He frowned, surprised and maybe a bit hurt.

ㅤㅤ

"Oh, come on Vis. Don't you think that's enough?" Wanda sighed deeply tired. "You don't love me, I don't love you. We are here for our kids and they know very well what is happening between us.”

ㅤㅤ

"I know you have a lover." She smiled sadly, because even though he was doing it behind her back, she was glad to know that he found someone. Besides, didn't feel so guilty that she didn't love him.

ㅤㅤ

"I'm sorry, Wanda." the blonde whispered, he took off his glasses so that he could clean them and avoid showing how ashamed he felt.

ㅤㅤ

"We've been friends for all these years, but we can't pretend we love each other. Let's just not make it difficult for the kids. They will understand."

ㅤㅤ

"They are lucky that we made that decision now."

ㅤㅤ

They both smiled kindly, like two old friends saying goodbye, a necessary goodbye in order to move on.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I will spend the weekend in a hotel, I'll go pack my things.”

About five minutes, that's how long it took Y/N to get to that woman's house, after Wanda sent her that message.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

‘Come to my house, we need to talk.’

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N sighed deeply and took courage, if Wanda needed to talk, perhaps it would be to yell at her some more things that she kept for a long time.

ㅤㅤ

“Hi.” Wanda waved when she opened the door, letting her into the house.

ㅤㅤ

“Hey.” Y/N came into the place, looking around with curiosity. She had never been there, but it looked like a rather… ordinary home? Normal? Pretty good, very cozy.

ㅤ

Noticed some family photos, mostly of two adorable little ones. Billy and Tommy.

ㅤ

She followed Wanda to the kitchen without saying anything, expecting to know what she had to say, but the brunette just kept silent.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Will the girls be coming soon?” Y/N asked in a low voice, as if she was about to break the moment and detonate the bomb. Kept her hands in the  pockets, watching Wanda's every move.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“It’s just us.” Wanda whispered as she took out some bread, jelly, and peanut butter.

Just them? That made Y/N frown.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“So... why did you call me?” Y/N leaned on the doorway, watching as Wanda cut small sandwiches. “You're supposed to hate me.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I don’t hate you.” Wanda grunted under her breath. “I'm just mad at you.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I know its because of what I did-” Y/N tried, a tired sigh, but Wanda turned to finally attack.

So done.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“You broke my heart, TWICE.”  She snapped. Wanda spat out those words like poison that she had kept for a long, long time . “Not only when we came back from the forest and you abandoned me, but then you came back years later. You filled me with false hope and illusions saying that you loved me, that I should leave Vision and we should go together.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N swallowed; it was time to take care of all the things she did.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I did it! For you, because I loved you so much, I was madly in love with you! And when I came back to the hotel where we made love all night and you were waiting for me to do this together, YOU WERE HAVING SEIZURES.” She said with a shaky voice, those green eyes showing not only anger but also fear and sadness at that horrible memory. The scariest moment of her life.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

I’m sorry-”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“When I got back to the hotel, smiling, ready to face the world with you… you were choking on your own blood because you overdosed. AGAIN.” The brunette wiped away a tear that fell down her cheek.  “You died, I saw you die that day.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N was silent, couldn't say anything because she knew perfectly well that Wanda was right. How much she had hurt that woman was unforgivable, but love was always there.

Maybe love wasn't enough.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“And the paramedics brought you back to life.” Wanda turned her gaze to the sandwiches, taking a deep breath to calm down and put the tiny sandwiches in the fridge.  “You stole those drugs from the hospital, and you could have gotten Jules fired or jailed.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I know.” Y/N swallowed, looking down. “I did terrible things.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Yes, you did and everyone thinks I'm the bad guy, and i’m cruel or- or impatient, but I'm not! Don't tell me I hate you, because I don't.” The sokovian whispered so hurt. “I'm not the bad guy here. You broke me first, twice.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

But even though Y/N could have turned and left and not take all those words anymore, she came closer and put a hand on Wanda’s shoulder. And despite the fact that the sokovian refused at first,  slowly she allowed herself to be hugged tightly for a while.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Wanna tell me what’s going on?” Y/N sighed, knowing something else was wrong. “I know you're mad at me, but I also know there's more.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Wanda looked up, Y/N knew her too well. The brunette moved away from the embrace, leaning against the kitchen counter next to Y/N. Like two old friends.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Vision is cheating on me.” Wanda started. “I've known for a while now.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N just nodded and then exhaled furiously, like a rampaging, raging bull. How could he do that to Wanda? Just like that?  To that woman? “’Kay… I’m gonna kick his ass. He is in the store right now?”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“No, that’s not-” Wanda interceded, getting in the way.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I'm not going to let him treat you like this.” Y/N growled.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Stop.” She put her hands on Y/N and slowly pushed her back onto the counter, returning to where they were.  “That's not what got me like this!”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“So what is it?”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Vision is cheating on me, yeah… but I don’t even care.” The brunette shrugged lightly.  “It is as if we both know that we don’t love each other, but… the kids. You know? Anyway, that's not the worst or the most important thing.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N kept silent, hoping that Wanda would dare to say it, especially when the sokovian seemed to start walking in circles, trying to get up the courage to tell her the truth.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Vision is the one who's been blackmailing us.” Finally, Wanda released it as if it were nothing.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

And Y/N's reaction was exactly what she expected. The dark-haired woman just opened her eyes wide, her jaw tensed, making her look perhaps quite attractive, or at least that's what Wanda thought for a moment.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“What?” Y/N exploded angrily.  “The fuck?! I’m gonna kill him.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“No, you won’t.” Wanda pointed at her, trying to calm her down but Y/N frowned even more annoyed. Was she going to defend him now?

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“H-he needed the money, apparently the store was not paying off.” Wanda pinched the bridge of her nose, even more frustrated than before.  “Because of this… online store or something.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ Y/N noticed that she didn't seem too happy with that news either. Surely Wanda was also upset when she found out.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“The business began to fall apart, he was asking for loans but it was dirty money.” Wanda sighed. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N nodded slowly, at least this meant something good and that was that no one else knew what they did in the forest. That was good.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“So you both owe me 50 grand.” Y/N teased, trying to make her feel better or smile.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“HE does.” Wanda clarified, finally smiling. A genuine smile. Y/N won and her heart knew it.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I'm going to break his fucking legs, man.” Y/N exhaled deeply and shook her head. “At least we don't have to worry about our past getting out of here. Right?”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Wanda just nodded.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Does he know EVERYTHING that happened there? Did he read all your diaries?” she narrowed her eyes.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“No, he just saw the drawing and thought it was important. He doesn't know what truly happened.” Wanda began to play with her rings, so embarrassed, everything that happened was her fault. “I promise I'll pay you back.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“No, he will.” Y/N smirked. “We'd better tell the others. They'll be glad to know there's no danger.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I don't know, I don't want them to be mad at me.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N kept watching her, she was seventeen years later and she still looked so beautiful. Now she looked more mature, those green eyes showed how much she had matured but that made her more beautiful and sensual. And that body? Wow, she really was a mommy.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“You have to tell them the truth, that's what it's all about.”  Noticing how worried Wanda looked, Y/N placed a hand on her shoulder. “They love you, believe me they won't care as long as you're fine. Besides that you had nothing to do with this.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Do you think they won't hate me?”  Wanda's voice melted Y/N's heart, who only quickly denied.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“They have hearts too big, look why I'm here.” The taller one shrugged. “Plus, I think they have bigger fish to fry between them.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“What do you mean?” The brunette asked worriedly.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Jules is pregnant.” Y/N smiled happily, but after a few seconds she realized the huge mistake she made.  “I mean, fuck, I wasn't supposed to say anything! You can't say anything! I promised not to say it!”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N panicked, opening her eyes wide, but Wanda only opened her big eyes in surprise and couldn't help but smile widely. That was much more important than all this, her best friends were going to be moms. That joy cast out any fear she might have.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Oh my god, Y/N!” Wanda squealed.  “That’s good news, right? We must celebrate!”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“So good, right?! But remember, don't say anything.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

They both looked like two excited kids, laughing over that beautiful news as if it were themselves.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“But wait, Nat doesn’t now that and Jules doesn't know how she's going to take it.” y/n pursed her lips watching as Wanda took out a bottle of wine from the cabinet and two glasses.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Damn.” Wanda said worriedly. “Oh, god, she was hit the other day! Is she okay?”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“She is. I went with her to the doc, she's fine for now.” she nodded and took the glass, somewhat doubtful.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Oh, thank god. Thank you for telling me this.” She was going to take the bottle to open it but Y/N touched her arm gently, getting her attention. “I was so worried that-”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Wait, Wanda?”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Yeah?” she frowned.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I don't drink anymore. I'm still recovering.” Y/N wrinkled her nose. “Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you but…" She swallowed and shrugged a bit shy.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“…OH! I’m so sorry!” The sokovian exclaimed in embarrassment, quickly setting the bottle aside. She didn't know what to say, feeling so ashamed that she was so inconsiderate. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“It’s okay, I’m trying my best. It's not like I'm desperate to drink anyway.” Y/N smiled kindly.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

And for a moment, Wanda felt that she was seeing that eighteen-year-old girl again, so kind, attentive and considerate. That Y/N that completely stolen her heart years ago.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Please, don’t look at me like that.” Wanda shook her head and turned to leave the kitchen and arrange some things in the living room, some thrown cushions and joysticks.  

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Like that?”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Like a fucking sad but loving puppy.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Why?”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Because I can't deal with your ‘unrequited love victim’ look right now.” Wanda shook her head. Y/N followed Wanda around the place, helping her to pick up some cushions. “Stop that.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

"But I love you.” Y/N smirked, wasn't going to stop, not anymore.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Please, stop.” Wanda pointed her finger at her and ended up taking the cushion out of her hands.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I can’t.” She was willing to do everything to make it better, to have Wanda by her side, in any way. “It kills me not being able to have you, not being able to be with you. I love to see you happy, I love to see you smile, but don't think that it doesn't hurt me not to have you.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Well, you seemed fine when-”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I know!” Y/N stepped forward. She perfectly knew everything she did, and despite the fact that she has changed, Y/N knew that she would have to endure those comments forever. “I know, and it wasn't right or fair. I was sick and I was sunk deep into the abyss and I started to sink you too.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

She sighed heavily, taking over all her actions. As many times as necessary.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“And I’m sorry, but i'm done apologizing.” At Wanda's surprised look, Y/N stepped forward to take her hand. “I can't keep sinking anymore, that's why I'm here. Because I love you, because I love my friends, and because I want to love myself a little more. No one deserves what I did to you all, and I want to make it right. I have to do it, okay?”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N sighed deeply. Would fight whatever it took to keep the people she loved close. Time to mourn was over, now she just had to build and take care of the future.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I am taking responsibility for it. We all screwed up in one way or another.  I’m sober, I’m better and I’m trying my fucking best.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Wanda just nodded, completely fascinated by that image. With a different Y/N, mature and much more responsible. She looked so attractive… It was too much, so tired of fighting the tension between the two; Wanda ended the distance and kissed her lips with a passion that surprised them both.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N was quick to kiss her back, pushing the brunette against the wall. The warmth of her body and her lips wrapped around her in such an exquisite way, she felt like coming home.

Her heart beat again after so long, the reason why she was still alive was right there.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

It wasn't a cute and tender kiss, it was a kiss full of passion and need. From two people who missed each other too much and had been away for a long, long time.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Wanda, we're at your house.” Y/N cursed herself for being the voice of reason, but even so, she didn't stop and kept devouring the sokovian's neck.  “Vision or the kids could come.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

When was the last time Wanda felt wanted? Needed and desired. A long time ago, she hadn't had sex with Vision in a long time and right now, her legs were shaking like she was that same needy young self again.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“He’s not coming... the kids won't be around for the whole weekend.” Wanda could barely whisper, feeling how her legs were so weak. “Oh god.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Between kisses and caresses, both ended up in Wanda's room, tangled between the sheets. Their naked bodies complemented each other once more; Wanda's hands ran over Y/N's bare back over and over again.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Fuck me.” She whispered against Y/N’s lips between kisses and bites. “Now. Please.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Feeling that paradise existed in the hands of Y/N, she got carried away. Legs that trembled, lips that ran over the skin over and over again. Wanda bit her skin as if she wanted to mark that woman as hers once more.

Because she was always hers.

The moans, the screams of pleasure, the biting.

The way in which Wanda sought to take Y/N's hands for her to cling to before reaching orgasm, or how her tongue ran through that wet sex with a unique devotion.

The way their breasts swayed with each movement, how their muscles contracted and then released at the peak of pleasure. How Y/N's hands gently squeezed the brunette's neck, how she licked her thumb, teasing her. Needing more.

It was an incredible night for both of them, who ended up sweaty, sore and happy hugging in that bed.

So... 👀🐝 Now do you understand Wanda's anger better? And you haven't read it yet.

Hope you enjoyed, this is turning interesting and good. I'm already working on the finale and... it might make you smile, cry, or both. Some intense stuff is coming so, I just want to let you know that. Clearly many didn't survive the forest.

the cutest and lovely people tags ✨ @kaiidth-wandika @yourfavunsub @pawiie @fanboy7794 @sunsol-22 @scarlettbitchx @arcturusseer @imnotasuperhero @chtte @lesbians-in-outer-space @starry-night17 @cristin-rjd @kenlymar @chtte @marvelogic @druggedduck @aliherreraaa @widowwaddles @gingiesworld

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#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader

[samuskitchen]

bottom of the deep blue. (2)

⇒ mermaid!suna x siren!reader

summary : sirens, creatures of unmatched beauty and cunning charm, they lure men in with their voices and grace, taking advantage of all the gullible fishermen and pirates. mermaids, the peacekeepers of the deep blue sea, naive and kind to a fault at times. a fated encounter between the two underwater dwellers leads to a difficult situation and a love that shouldn’t be.

warnings : less mean!suna more cocky dorky mermaid!suna, lovesick hopeless romantic reader :,) , naive reader, uncomfortable interaction with a man, oblivious reader?

genre : mermaid au, pirate au, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, betrayal

a/n : SORRY FOR THE LATE POST, i’ll try and be more consistent in the future! also the descriptor “milky” isn’t for the skintone, it’s for the skin texture, i feel like if someone had developed legs after having a tail their whole lives, their thighs and upper legs would be like ‘milky’ soft 💀 hope they longer chaoter makes up for the later post!

w/c : 4.6k

“close your eyes.”

“and what will closing my eyes achieve?” you huffed as rintarou kept holding whatever was in his hands behind his back.

“it will achieve the purest reaction when i unveil what i’m hiding!” you feel your chest tighten in happiness at the endearing look on his face, eyes beaming brightly with a pretty grin.

“ugh fine,” you give him a teasing pout before squeezing your eyes shut, putting both hands out you make a grabbing motion as you impatiently wait for him to give you what he kept hidden.

he snorts and slaps your hands down, which in turn gains an annoyed whine from you, he however ignores this and clears his throat signaling for you to finally open your eyes and uncover what he’s been hiding from you.

when you slowly peel your eyes open you’re met with what you assume is a light blue dress, it drifts and sways in rintarous hands as he holds it in front of your face. the grip he has on the garment is tight and he shakes it side to side a bit before pulling it away from your face, showing his grin again with the dress now by his side.

“so? what do you think?”

“… it’s— nice?” dumbfounded, you grabbed the dress from him and held it up in front of you again.

“what am i meant to do with this? sirens and mermaids don’t really require any clothing down here,” pressing the dress tightly against your chest you look down at the piece of clothing with a small smile. “oh, is it another gift? thank you rin, i’ll be sure to add it—”

“no you loser, i'm taking you to the surface, mermaids and sirens may be okay without clothes but humans aren’t. we need to blend in!”

a beat of silence passes, rin stares at you expectantly while you stare back at him in disbelief. you feel your lower lip tremble and your hands gripping the dress begin to shake as your heartbeat becomes erratic, your head swims with thoughts and fantasies about the world above the sea, where humans lived freely, where nature blossomed and allowed creations like trees and hundreds of different flowers to bloom in the seasons. there were so many things you were dreaming of seeing, things you wanted to smell, foods you wanted to taste, music not only created by voice but by instruments. living vicariously through rin wasn’t enough anymore, you finally had the opportunity to experience everything you’ve ever wanted. rintarou was a gift and a blessing to you.

“yn? do you— not want to go?” his voice came out quiet, questioning, a small thrown adorning his charming face. your heart dropped at his sadness, you rush to comfort him.

“no it’s not that! i’d love to go, especially with you! it’s just, i never believed i’d actually get the chance…” you gave him a tight lipped smile, hands gripping his tightly, eyes examining every movement or twitch on his face.

“does that mean you’ll wear the dress?” his voice was still small but the frown was now replaced by a small teasing smile.

“anything for you, rin.”

—

you both rendezvoused at your little cave, sharing a nod and a mutual smile before pushing yourselves towards the water's surface. the closer you got to the light, the more the excitement burnt in your chest, like fireworks right before they exploded. you grip onto rintarou’s hand and break the barrier, your eyes pushing through the blanket of water first, focused on the pink hues in the sky. clouds dotting the canvas.

you stared in awe and amazement at the sky as it shifted colours, the pinks and peaches made way for a light purple, hints of blue mixed into it all. you couldn’t help but gape at the beauty of the world above the bottom of the deep and dark sea.

rintarou watched you watch the sky, eyes soft and warm at the sight in front of him. never had he seen someone so dangerous look so innocent and excited, he felt the need to keep you close, watch over and protect you from the bad things he never explained about humans. he should have warned you about their wicked nature, but he couldn’t bring himself to destroy your bright little fantasy. he’d keep you safe.

“we should get to shore before it’s too bright, the market should have enough shade until your eyes can adjust to the brightness.”

“but it’s not that bright! i want to see the palm trees and the flowers rin!”

he laughed, clasping your hand and pulling you towards a secluded rocky area. “and you will, but we need to make sure you can adjust to the sunlight before we do anything too crazy.”

humming along to what he says you grip his hand tightly back, your eyes scanning the horizon to catch a glimpse of the human world. when you two made it close enough to the rocks, rintarou hauled himself out, letting his iridescent tail form into two human-like legs. the only sign of his unusual heritage being the remnants of his pretty pearly scales that fade back into the skin of his calves. you realise then that he has the whole form of a human, you snap your gaze away from his care body, your whole body burning up from the embarrassment of ogling him.

rin smirked down at your reaction before pulling on the trousers he left out to dry, only reaching down to grab your arm once he had put on his loose fitting white shirt. when both your arms were gripped into his, he pulled you out of the water, helping you rest your back against the rock without cutting the flesh of your tail on the sharp edges. he grabbed one of the cloths he set aside with his clothes the day before, dabbing it onto your tail to soak up the moistness and progress the drying.

“what does that do?”

“it’ll help you form your legs! that is… if sirens can form legs— though i assume they can if mermaids can?”

“wait, does that mean there’s a chance i won’t get legs like yours?”

“i mean it’s a possibility, i’ve never really looked into sirens before.”

your heart sinks, you look down dimly at your tail, the sun began rising higher and higher causing the light to bounce off of your tail and plaster the pretty colours on the rocks around you. yet you couldn’t find it in yourself to gape. “so… this is it? this is the most i can experience?” your watery gaze lifts up to rintarou’s figure standing above you, giving him a wobbly smile as a teardrop finally escaped.

you move to push yourself back in the water, only stopping a millimeter before your tail could touch the waters reflective surface. it was only the strong grip of rin’s hand on your arm and the line of separation that began forming at the fin of your tail that stopped you from giving yourself the final push into the water. you watched in shock as two feet began to form, your tail changing more and more into that of a bi-pedal human. you smoothed your hands over the milky soft texture of your new legs, you pressed your hands against the large rock below you using all your strength to stand.

what you didn’t account for was the fact that you’ve never had legs before. so when you finally pushed yourself up, your legs gave out immediately, causing your body to fall forward into the ever so cautious arms of rintarou. he gripped your shoulder with one arm as the other secured itself around your waist, his hold being the only thing keeping you up. you once again felt the embarrassment from earlier as you realised now you were the bare and vulnerable one in front of him.

with a gasp you push him off of you, grabbing the dress from his hands before your weak yet heavy legs dragged you down once again. dropping your body against the boulder below you, you yelp in pain at the scratches that litter your legs, a sharp pain shooting it’s way up from your palm burning even stronger at the salt water that seeps into the gash along your hand. you quickly throw the dress on, assuming your head goes through the larger hole before throwing your two arms through the other two holes left.

“i’m sorry! i was just surprised. are you okay?” on your hands and knees you drag yourself towards rin who sits up from his position on the rock a little further away from you. he groans as he wipes his hands on his trousers.

“it’s okay, im fine.” he pushes himself up, pulling you up once he gains his footing again. “are you okay? if we get to the shore there’s a lady i know who’ll help you patch that up.”

you gulp nervously, looking down at your stained palm. feeling a little form in your stomach. “a lady?” you don’t mean for it to sound so desperate and displeased, and obviously a sly man like rintarou would speak to other women. you shouldn’t have made yourself feel so special.

he bites back a laugh and grabs your hand before pulling you in closer. his arms moving to pull you onto his back. you fight back for a second before giving up, noticing the smile placed permanently on his annoying handsome face. “no need to be jealous, pearl. elderly women aren’t my type.” you tense at his teasing.

“i wasn’t jealous.”

he only hums in response, the smile present in his tone.

—

“so this lady, does she know you’re a mermaid?”

“she’s never asked but i’m certain she has an idea. i pay her in my tails scales. they’re very useful for mortal beings, the dried scales of a mermaid have healing properties so they usually use them for medicine.”

you nod along to what he says, arms tightly circled around rin’s neck as he continues explaining the resources you underwater dwellers could supply to humans.

“and what about siren scales?”

rin’s pace slows for a moment, he clears his throat, gripping the bottom of your thighs a little tighter. “uhm, well, you know i don’t actually know… i’ve never asked!” he ends his sentence with a strained chuckle, confusing you.

“well we have similar tails don’t we? wouldn’t that mean they’d have similar-”

“look, i’ve never asked so i can’t answer that question okay?” he lightly snapped at you, causing you to close your mouth. you lowered your face into the crook of

his neck, nodding silently.

he sighed and gave a quiet apology. the two of you continued walking towards the shack which grows larger and larger the more you walk. your head perks up again when you guys finally make it to the door of the shack. a hand painted sign with writing you can’t read and a splatter of a hand print plastered onto it.

you tap rin’s shoulder lightly, gaining his attention, making him turn his head to face you. “rin, what does that say?” you mumble into his shoulder, one finger outstretched to point to the sign.

“it says ‘beware of the witch.’ it’s a warning to keep away other humans.”

“why would she want to keep away other humans?”

“maybe she just doesn’t like humans. y’know, like how mermaids don’t like sirens.”

“but, you like me?” you tilt your head at him, eying him curiously.

he sputters, moving his hands from under your thighs to grip under your knees instead. playing everything off with a cough he nods. “yeah well, we’re different.”

“good different?”

“great different.”

you’re happy with that response, once again lowering your face to his neck, letting your chin rest on his shoulder with your head resting against his own. you hum happily.

rin pushes the door open, carefully placing you down onto the floating bed nailed into the corner of two walls. you feel the fabric swing at the weight of your body, you smile down at it, using your arms to sway yourself a bit more. “rin, what’s this?”

“it’s a hammock, it’s like a bed without any support other than the nails or rope used to keep it up.”

you mumbled out a small ‘wow’ and continue swaying as rintarou moved towards the back of the shop. calling out for a ‘helen’ you ignore him as you look around the shop, jars filled with dehydrated scales and scales in jars filled with what you assume is sea water. there are different plants found from the depths of the sea only creatures like you or rin could reach, further confirming your suspicion that this lady, helen, knew suna was more than just a pretty boy with a cocky smile.

“oh? is that my favourite scavenger?” a little old lady, adorned in jewels you’d recognised from your cave and scales the same colour as your partner in crimes, walks out of a door in the back of the shop. she wore a long dress and what rin would call, an apron. she gave him a sweet smile before locking onto your curious gaze.

“and you must be yn? rin’s pretty little girlfriend.” she gave the same sweet smile to you that she had given him. you bit back a smile at her words, “pretty?” you mumbled.

“aha, helen— she’s not my girlfriend! just… a girl that i happen to be friends with?” he sounds unsure, arms crossed across his chest with his shoulders tensed up. “anyways that’s not why we’re here. yn slipped on our… latest trip, and she got a pretty ugly cut on her palm, you think you could fix it up?”

you frowned at his wording, looking down at your blood stained palm. ‘ugly?’ helen walked around the display table in front of her door, hands on her hip as she made a ‘tsk’ noise using her mouth. your own mouth moving to mimick the sound.

“it does look bad, but it’s nothing a little bit of ointment can’t fix.” she pulls out a tin from her aprons pocket, twisting the lid and applying the cool jelly over your palm and the small scratches that littered your legs. it felt soothing at first, and like a crabs pinchers gripping onto your skin, the pain burst through your skin immediately. you gasped trying to rub off the ointment from your body but were held down by suna.

“stop, rin, it hurts— get it off!” you struggle against his hands, mumbling small pleas as the burning pain starts to settle.

“sorry, pearl. it’s usually like that the first time. but it’s an instant fix, see?” you push his hands off of you, looking down at your skin where the cuts once lay. it was again as bare as when you formed your legs.

“it’s fine… thank you.” you mumbled, letting suna pull you up like a rag doll. he exchanged a few more words with helen, before turning towards the door, throwing a ‘thank you’ over his shoulder at her. only stopping when he reaches the nob.

“be careful suna, siren’s are incredibly valuable to the men of the seas.”

he gulps at the warning, knowing she had figured you out as quickly as she figured him out. shrugging it off he pulls the door open and walks out with you piggybacking him again. his hands back under your thighs again.

“what does she mean? why are siren’s incredibly valuable?“

rintarou ignores you, continuing his strenuous walk towards the market he promised to take you to.

—

you eventually got bored of his silence, and your lack of ability to walk. so you did what you thought was best, pushing yourself off of his back, your body weight pulling him the opposite direction causes him to lose his balance, hands dropping your thighs causing you to fall back and land on the sandy floor with a thud.

he looks back at you in surprise, scrambling to pull you back up. you slap his hands away with a groan, pushing yourself to be on all fours, slowly moving yourself up to put more weight on one leg. “rin, please teach me how to walk. you’re getting tired of carrying me and i’m getting tired of being carried!”

he sighs, pondering for a second before ultimately nodding. he gently grips your hands, slowly pulling you up, moving his grip to your forearms as you try and find balance on your feet. “can you feel your legs?”

you nod, bending your knees and twisting your feet. he nods along with you, “okay, can you lift your right leg for me?” you carefully lift your leg up, before immediately dropping it back down at the feeling of yourself dipping to the left.

“can you do the same with your left?” you lift your left leg up before placing it back down quickly. suna pats your arms and pulls you forward harshly, causing you to stumble. he lets go of your arms mid stumble and watches you move your legs to find balance. you let out a shocked gasp at his betrayal and continue you your stumble for a second longer before hitting the tree in front of you.

rin chokes back his own gasp, not expecting you to bash into the giant tree that has been behind him. he runs to grab you, pulling you up and biting back a laugh at your annoyed huff.

“traitor.”

“just teaching you how to fly, baby bird.”

“i wanna go back home.” you pout, looking out at the ocean. a longing feeling settling within you. you missed your sisters.

“already!? but we haven’t even gotten to the market yet, it’s just this way i promise!” he grips your hand and begins running, dragging you along behind him causing you to stumble and flop like a fish out of water, trying to catch up with the tall, insufferable man.

“rin! please, slow down— i don’t know how to use my legs yet!”

—

the sun was high up in the sky by the time the two of you made it to the market, you finally understood why rin wanted you to stay in the shade so badly. the bright light reflected off of the shining sand, burning your eyes that hadn’t seen anything but the dark waters of the sea you lived in your whole life.

rin, being prepared for this, pulled out what he calls a ‘jacket’ from his satchel, placing the clothing on your head to block out the suns aggressive light from your eyes. giving you some relief from the pain that had been causing your eyes to burn up and dry out.

“i’ll make sure this trip is worth it, yn. we’ll get out of here soon. i should’ve been more careful of your circumstances.”

“rin, it’s fine. plus, didn’t you have to go through this too? during your first time on land?”

he pauses for a second, before he carefully shakes his head. “no, mine was pretty easy to get through. my eyes stung a bit and i definitely had weak legs, but i guess it affects you differently?”

“weird.”

the two of you make it to the edge of the market, you hear the loud chattering of people and in your excitement you throw the jacket off of your head. you gape at the many stalls lining the town, you see buildings stacked on one another, and places with tables outside, humans drinking from little cups and children running around. the smells of the market were driving your senses wild, something sweet from the flowers and the fruits and desserts around you, something that smells thick and smokey, making your mouth water and your stomach grumble. you glanced around, the colours were beautiful, stalls with little colourful roofs, and the plants you’d only dreamed of seeing.

“so?” rin grips your hand softly, a knowing smirk growing on his lips the more he watches you gaze around in astonishment. “does it exceed your expectations? fulfil your fantasy?”

you stay silent, listening to the people speak, the words blending together, the accents far too strong for you to comprehend with everything that’s going on around you. you feel the breeze from the nearby ocean on your arms and the grip of suna’s hand ground you. you turn to him with a bright smile.

“it’s better than anything i’ve dreamed of.” he returns your smile, nudging you forward to move into the crowd. the two of you begin walking down the streets, taking a look at everything around you, your wide eyed gaze locked onto all the aromatic foods and the brightest jewels you could find.

when you’d see something that you’d really want, suna would pull out a small bag of coins from his satchel and drop a gold piece onto the table. by the time you’d reached the final food stall, you’d already eaten at least five different fruits, a strawberry cake and, though you felt guilty, you’d eaten a fish flake too. as you walked rin would explain the different things you’d seen, the cakes and fruits, why the fish looked the way it did, and when you finally got to the trinkets you couldn’t hold back your excitement.

letting go of rin’s hand you ran, or stumbled, forward. knocking into a table with sparkling jewels and gold rings, unfortunately in your current accident prone state you also managed to knock into a nearby man who had also been gazing at the stall. he chuckles at your sudden intrusion into his space, gripping your arms to balance you out again. “well hello, pretty.” he looks you up and down, hands sliding from your arms to your own hands. you gaze up at him with wide eyes, heart beating rapidly and your breath feeling short. you gulped nervously and moved back, turning to look back at rin who eyed the man with a slight glare.

“ah, i see you’re spoken for. my apologies, miss.” he lets go of your hand, stepping back, eyeing you up once more before he moves to turn around. he quickly looks back at you, eyes focussing in on

the end of your long pale dress, locked in on the skin of your ankles. the shimmer of the scales that hadn’t blended into your skin.

his breath hitched. he turned away with the clearing of his throat and the tip of his hat towards rin.

you looked back at suna with a confused tilt of your head. he shook his own and nodded towards the stall. you let out a happy hum, eyeing the many valuable items curiously. “rin, look! isn’t this clip pretty?” you held up the little silver clip, it had the design of one of the nearby flowers, with a pretty pink jewel in the middle of it. you held it closer to suna’s face, eyes sparkling with joy. “can we get it?” you pleaded with him excitedly.

he sighed with a small smile and pulled out his coins again, eyes staring down at the half empty bag. “i need to teach you about money and how not to spend it…” he laughed nervously. placing a few coins down, he hurriedly gripped your hand and pulled you away from the stall, your eyes still fixated on the many other things on display.

“here, let me put that on for you.” suna broke your interest away from the stall when his voice cut through the silence between the two of you. you looked up at him inquisitively before holding out the clip. the two of you stopped walking, letting him take the opportunity to steady you, before sliding the clip near your ear, successfully pushing and holding the hair on your right side out of your face.

“how does it look?”

“it looks great, it’s pretty.”

“pretty?” suna nods to reaffirm what he said, but you just hummed. “am i pretty?” he pushes the rest of your hair off your shoulder, giving it a light squeeze.

“you’re always pretty.”

you nod, a happy little smile on your face. you link your fingers together, squeezing his hand. “rinrin?”

“rinrin?” he questions the new nickname.

“rintarou, what does ‘pretty’ mean? in the humans term.”

“i don’t think it has much of a difference from the way we use it, to be quite honest. it’s just used when you see something… pretty?”

you snort at his explanation, rolling your eyes as you kick at the sand. “we’ve been using that word all day.”

“we have, haven’t we?”

“hey, rin?”

he hums.

“thank you, for today and, for everything… oh and the clip! i hope you know i think you’re quite pretty too.”

“well of course, i am a mermaid, if i wasn’t pretty what worth would i have down in the bottom of the ocean?”

you push him lightly and grumble as the two fo you continue walking closer to the waters. the setting sun reflecting off of it, creating a dazzling jewel like sparkle on your home.

“today was fun, remember when i said i wanted to go home?” you paused, your hands now behind your back. “i take it back. as much as i’d miss my sisters, i’d give anything to be able to experience life above the water for as long as possible.”

“i get that, that’s why i’m up here so often. it’s— it’s a different experience… i’d probably do anything to live like the people up here too.”

you both make it back to the rocks, he looks you up and down once before pulling his shirt off, exposing his toned chest, which would normally be fine but after learning about the modesty of humans, you can’t help but feel bashful at his semi nudeness. you turned away, pulling off your shoes and dress before hurriedly throwing yourself into the water, begging in your mind that he hadn’t seen your bare body like before.

your head peeks out from the water, your tail already back to its original state, you eye rin who hides your belongings in a small nook between the rocks, before he too joins you in the water. “y’know, it’s pretty obvious when you’re checking me out.”

you sputter at his teasing accusation, slapping his shoulder as you turn away in embarrassment at the thought of being caught. “i wasn’t checking you out, i was curious as to what you were doing.”

“right. because the muscles on my back are so interesting? you were looking at just the muscles on my back…right?”

“goodbye, rin. i’ll see you tomorrow.” you gave him a kiss on the cheek and dived back under the water. not letting your newest regrettable moment eat away at you.

you left rin at the surface, diving deeper and deeper down to where you’d find your sisters. blissfully unaware of any conversation, or confrontation suna may get into.

you had your own responsibilities to attend to now.

—

“where were you!?”

“i- well, i was…”

“you had us worried sick! and not just that, you weren’t there for today’s hunt, we were one siren down and that cost us our feast. you knew today was another hunt.”

“i’m sorry…”

“sorry is not going to cut it this time, yn. your recklessness couldve endangered us all. you should not act so selfishly.”

you silently nodded, moving to your own sleeping area, feeling the eyes of all your sisters on your back as you slept facing away from them. you shut your eyes tightly, trying to bring back the happy mood you had from your day with rin before your sister’s lecture ruined it.

yet you couldn’t catch a break.

“who were you with?”

taglist :  @lomlsuna @akaashiwife @plixy @on-crows-wings @1-800-s1ya @sabztov @keiji-in-a-can @tamak00 @kamikokii

#🌀. botdb #suna angst #suna imagines #hq angst #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #suna x reader #suna x y/n #suna rintaro scenarios #suna rintaro imagines #suna rintarou angst #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintaro x y/n #haikyuu fluff #hq x y/n #hq x reader #hq imagines

[raineydays411]

Ember

Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader 

Warning: Child neglect, swearing, angst, death 

Summary: After being kidnapped by Hydra, Y/N does some reflecting on her home life. Especially her relationship with her father

italics = past pov

Bold= thoughts

Italic bold= ghosts 

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

You never thought your life would end like this. Alone, trapped in a Hydra cell, full of anger and resentment for the one man who was never supposed to break your heart. Of course, up until now you had been pretty optimistic your father would realize the error of his ways and miraculously spend years making up for years of missed recitals, ignored achievements, and multiple other offenses. You always forgave him because, hey the man was a member of the Avengers, what should you expect having Tony Stark as a father? 

But right now, as you lay on the cold, damp floor, writhing in pain from whatever glowey nuclear shit those assholes injected you with, you can’t help but remember the mistreatment and neglect bestowed upon you by your father. 

It was, it was September Winds blow, dead leaves fall

You’ll always remember that September day. The day your entire life had changed 

You were only eight when Loki tried to take over New York. You and your mom were coming home from the store when all of a sudden, people around you started to panic. Looking up, you saw a large portal in a once clear blue sky. Creatures appeared out of no where, destroying anything in their way. Your mother, terrified, took you by the hand and headed for a near by building. But, it seemed that others had that idea as well. Before you knew it, your vision was overwhelmed by the bodies of citizens trying to escape the chaos outside. After a few seconds, you found yourself in a crowed parking garage and no idea where your mother was.

You never saw her again after that.

After three days of searching, the police declared her dead and you were sent to live with your godmother, Pamela Isely. 

She was good to you. She held you through nightmares, told you stories about how your mother and her met, and even taught you how to take care of plants. The only complaint you had was that she would usually leave you alone every once in a while and come back with a lot of money, and occasionally, a loud blonde woman in a clown costume would come through the window and pinch your cheeks too hard. Other than that, you got adjusted to your new life quickly.

Four months passed and your life changed again. It was a cold September day, and you had just got home from school. As you walked into the apartment, you immediately felt a tension in the air, and you saw a man at the table with your Aunty Pam, who looked extremely uneasy and pale. They stared at you until your Aunt spoke.

“Y/N...you’re going back to New York.”

Those words alone made the floor fall from underneath you. You had just settled down. You finally felt comfortable without your mother in the world and now this?? Then the man cleared his throat, causing you to snap back into reality. 

“Y/n, my name is Tony Stark”

 You knew that name, he was the man in the metal suit who helped save New York. You didn’t care at the moment though, you just wanted to know why you were leaving your aunt.

Ignoring Tony, you looked at your aunt and whispered,

 “ Did...did I do something wrong?” 

Immediately, Pams eyes filled with tears as she quickly gathered you in her arms and responded with a loud, 

“Oh no, darling of course not”, She then proceeded to tell you the uncomfortable looking man at the table was in fact your father, who up till now you had never met. In fact, you never even fathomed the idea of having a father as your mom had always told you that you were a gift from some fairies she helped. You turned to the man who quietly sat at the table and looked over the man who was said to be your father.

He was definitely a handsome man. He wore a fancy looking suit and some tinted glasses even though he was inside. His hair was dark brown and messy, as if he was tugging or running his fingers through it. His skin looked to be am olive color but it was hard to tell as he looked kind of pale in the light of the small apartment you called home. You thought it was odd he hadn’t said anything other than introducing himself. 

“ Is it true? Are you really my dad?” You asked in a quiet voice.

He finally spoke, “Yeah kid, I’m your dad”

To you, I did surrender

Two weeks, you didn’t call

It’s been two weeks since you were taken by Hydra. Two weeks since you were injected with that mystery substance. You didn’t die, at least you don’t think you did. But you didn’t exactly feel alive either. You were colder than usual, like your body temperature lowered. You slept longer than normal especially the first three days after you were injected. The guards had to wake you up just to get you to eat. But the most worrying symptom of all is that your eyes were the same shade of neon blue as the liquid that was injected into your body. And everytime your eyes turned blue, something weird would happen. 

For example, the first time you noticed your eyes were blue, you woke up from the first long sleep.The second time, you thought you heard voices, screaming in agony and despair.This was odd because you were the only one in that cell block. As you came back to reality, you realized that you could see other ghostly figures in the once empty cells, and that you were floating three feet above your bed. 

Within the two weeks you were in that cell, you learned that that day you were injected, your heart did stop for an hour until you miraculously sprung back to life with a loud gasp, scaring the absolute shit out of the Hydra guards that were tasked with disposing your body. That would go through physical changes as well. Your once brown skin would change to a pale ghostly blue. And your black kinky hair would change to a shocking neon blue to match the color of your eyes.

For two weeks, you learned the ins and outs of your newfound powers. Two weeks of being pushed to your absolute limits by power hungry scientists. Two weeks of learning the names of the dead around you in those cells. 

It took two weeks, to realize that your father truly didn’t care about you.

And looking back on it, you should’ve known

Your life, goes on without me  My life, a losing game

It had been a year since you had moved into the Avengers Tower with your father. It had taken you a while to warm up to the team and for the team to get used to having a child around. But once you all got to know each other, it was like having multiple aunts and uncles. Especially because you were around them more than your own father. 

Unfortunately, once you had settled in and gotten to know everyone, Tony had locked himself away in his lab. Tinkering on a new project for weeks on end, ignoring his responsibilities as a new father.

Now, this didn’t really affect you till you started school. Tony had forgotten to pick you up multiple times, causing you to wait for hours on end till either Steve or Pepper realized that you hadn’t come home and rushed to the school , only to see you waiting on the front steps talking the ear off of the unlucky teacher who had to stay behind to wait with you.

Of course word got around that Y/N Stark was being forgotten at school everyday, thus prompting the kids at school to taunt you everyday after school.

“Where's your daddy Y/N??”

“I bet he leaves you here so you can get kidnapped so he doesn’t have to look at you”

“Your own dad doesn’t even love you”

Once you got to middle school, you joined as many after school clubs to hide the fact that there was no one to pick you up. And a small part hoped that it would be enough to gain your fathers attention. But it didn’t happen.

“Daddy! I made the volleyball team!”

“hmm, oh that's great kid, can you pass me that wrench”

“Dad! I’m in the robotics club”

“Y/N I’m really busy right now”

“ Hey dad...can you help me with--”

“Not now, go ask Pepper”

No matter what you did, you could never get his attention long enough. Nothing you did was good enough. You never got so much as a “welcome home” or a “ have a good day at school kiddo”. And you were fine with that. You were, because you knew that even though he didn’t show it, Tony Stark really did love you.

But you should, you should not doubt me You will remember my name.

After learning the extent of your powers, which included; flying,the ability to talk and see the dead, energy blasts, floating through walls, and the ability to shut off your powers at will. You decided it was time for you to make plans to escape. 

You’d like to think that you were really good at pretending. 

You did it on a daily basis, really. You pretended to be happy, not to notice Tony’s neglect, like you didn’t see the pity glances the rest of the team gave you. So convincing your captors that they finally broke you down wasn’t really a challenge. 

“....fine..i’ll help you” You said in a tired weak voice.

The two guards were startled at first, not expecting you to speak so suddenly

“You..what?” The younger of the two asked in a suspicious tone.

“I said I want to help you” you repeated a little louder. 

The first guard looked to the second, obviously confused at your sudden change of heart. They had a silent conversation with their eyes, as if debating on whether this was a trick or not. Finally, the older of the two turned to you and said,

“This better not be a trick, Stark.”

And with that, he started to unlock the door to your cell. 

“Okay, now I can either fight them now  and make a break for it, or I can wait till i get to the--” 

Your thoughts were cut off by a loud wailing, piecing your ears and automatically giving you a headache. Wincing in pain you look around the empty cell blocks and try to locate the spirit that’s making all that noise. When you see it, your heart breaks. It’s a young boy, around your age. The first thing you notice about him is that he had white hair, kinda Danny Phantom. As you continued to stare at the boy, his head suddenly turned and you both made eye contact, the movement startling you enough to make you jerk in the hold of the guards

“ HEY, eyes forward!” shouted the older guard. “There's no way out, if that's what you're looking for’ He said in a smug tone.

“I said I wanted to join you, why would I want to escape?” You reply, irritation dripping from your words.

“Just don’t pull any tricks kid.”

God does he have any other lines, you think to yourself mentally rolling your eyes. Sounds familiar.

Oh Ember, you will remember

Oh Ember, one thing remains

“Y/N I’m busy, go as--” “I know, go ask Pepper”

“Oh kid, I’m sorry I forgot” “ yeah, I know”

“You’re on the volleyball team” “ yes dad. For four years now”

“Y/N! I’m gonna be in the lab with Peter so try not to bother us.”

“Y/N me and Peter--”

“Good job, Peter”

“Hey Peter--”

God were you tired of that name. You never ever felt the feeling of envy and anger as much as you did when Peter came into your life. 

In fact, you were still healing from almost losing your family you found in the Avengers. Your dad didn’t want you around the “traitors” as he privately called them, so you were secluded. Watching them from afar and yearning for the comfort of hearing Steves pre-war stories, helping Clint pull off the most ridiculous pranks, helping Wanda teach Vision how to cook, and most of all you missed talking to Natasha. She reminded you of your aunt Pam, mainly because they both had red hair. You hoped that your father would understand this loss and step up now that you really needed a connection, but no. He decided that Peter Parker deserved all his attention. So you stopped trying as hard.

Oh Ember, So warm and tender You will remember my name

You walk into a room with a singular table and no windows. Sat at the table was a bald man writing in a notebook. The two guards lead you to the table and make you sit opposite of the bald man. He looks up at you and smiles.

“So, Ms. Stark has finally decided to comply?” He asks in a smug tone. You roll your eyes and answer back in a sarcastic tone,

“Yeah yeah, just cut the crap and tell me what you want me to do.”

The bald man just smiles and looks at you, as if trying to read your mind to figure out your motives. 

“Well”, he says, leaning back into his chair. “Lets get down to business.” He then proceeds to talk about the process of join his team and what you will be doing. But you don’t hear a word of it. Because you were going to escape this hell hole one way or another. 

“Well then, lets get you changed.” said the bald man. “Yeager, Jennings, take our guest to to her new room. 

“Huh so they do have names.” You think, as they pull you out of the chair and into the hallway. Walking back into the cell block, you make eye contact with that white haired boy again. He’s quiet as he watches you walk back to your room, then he disappears. 

You finally get back to your cell and notice a pair of black spandex, black halter top, grey boots and some black gloves on the floor. Changing into them, you take your hair into a pineapple with a hair tie they had given you. Looking into the piece of metal you used as a mirror, you changed into your ghost form. Suddenly, you hear a male voice behind you.

“Don’t let them know you can do that.” 

You startle and turn around, only to see none other than the white haired boy. He looked equally as startled as he realized you can see and hear him. 

“Why not?” you asked, changing back to your normal self.

“Because, they won’t ever let you leave.You’re already the first one to survive the injection. If they realize you can go ghost, they’ll do everything in their power to control you.”

Your mind flashed to Bucky. How Steve told you that they kept him. Brainwashing him over and over till he just became a weapon. You were not going to let them do that to you. You looked back at the boy.

“Can you help me get out of here?” you asked hopefully. The boy looked at you and said, 

“Well I’ve got nothing else to do.” You let go a sigh of relief. You were about to say something when you heard Yeager and Jennings walking down the hallway.

“They’re coming” You whisper, “ what do I do?”

“This base is small. All the people here are the only ones who know about it. They’re all going to be in the training room you’re being taken to. Wait till you get there, phase into the floor to the basement and blow up the heater. That should cause the whole building to cave in” 

You again don’t get to respond, as the two men finally get to your cell and unlock it. You walk out of the cell, head held high and allow them to lead you to the training room. Despite the look of confidence, you were dreading the next few moments. 

“So how come I’m the only one here?” you ask, even though you know the answer. The older guard looks at you and says

“You’re the only one who survived.” You fake a look of shock and look forward as if the news made you uneasy. And it did. It made you mad that these people didn’t care that they were murdering innocent people. They couldn’t hear the cries and the wails of agony these poor trapped souls emitted. In a way, it was ironic. Back at the tower, you were the poor soul nobody could see. And now you were surrounded by them.

Your heart, your heart is rendered Your loss, now bear the shame

This was the last straw. There was only so much you an take before you broke and this was it.

 Tony didn’t intend for you to hear it, but god did it hurt all the same. One phrase shattered your whole world. 

“You know Spiderling, your kinda like the kid I always wanted to have.”

An tense silence filled the common room. The first time in months you were able to see th eteam and they had to bear witness to this. Of course they did, who else would give you that stare full of sorrow and pity. You barely even noticed though. You were too busy looking at the “heartwarming scene.”

“that's such bullshit” Oh, how you wish you had a camera if only to capture the look of pure “oh shit” painted on Steve's face.

“What..what was that kid?” Asks your father. You turn to him, a fury in your eyes that nobody has ever seen.

“THAT IS ABSOLUTE BULLSHIT.”  You scream. “ FOR EIGHT YEARS I HAVE TRIED SO HARD FOR YOU TO LOVE ME. EIGHT YEARS I JOINED CLUBS, GOT THE HIGHEST GRADED IN CLASS AND FOR WHAT?” 

Tony and Peter look at you in shock “Y/n..wha..what are you talking about?” Peter asks in a baffled voice.

“Oh eat shit Peter! You know exactly what I’m talking about! Do you not find it weird, that your new mentor spends every single second of free time he has on you and not with his daughter?? Or are you so needy for some sort of parental validation that you don’t even care??” 

Deep down you know it’s not Peters fault. Hell, you two probably could have been good friends if your dad wasn’t such a tool. 

“Hey kid, I don’t know what's gotten into you, but that was way over the line.” Said Tony in a stern voice. Your eyes harden.

“Oh, did I hurt your poor little spiders feelings?? I didn’t even know you cared about other peoples feelings Tony? Or is it just your daughters that you ignore ?”

“What are you talking about? I don’t ignore you, stop being so over dramatic.”

OVERDRAMATIC?? DO YOU REALIZE THE ONLY THING YOU KNOW ABOUT ME IS MY NAME??” You are now sobbing. “ Do you even know my favorite color? How old I am?” 

Tony looks at you, eyes wide.”Y/N...” You cut him off

“Just forget it. I understand now. I will never be important to you. Not like Peter apparently is. I just wish it didn't take me eight years to figure that out.” And with that, you run out of the room, tears running down your cheeks and ignoring the calls of your father, the team, and Peter. 

You run for a few blocks and cry in an alleyway. not the smartest idea but you were too upset to care. And as you cry, you don’t notice the dark shadow behind you before its too late and the world goes dark.

Like dead trees, in cold december  Nothing but ashes remain

The hydra base was now engulfed with flames.  Your body was tired from phasing through the walls, and your head hurts from those energy blasts. But one thing brings some happiness in your heart as you watch all the souls that were trapped there realize they are free. All but one, the white haired kid. He walks up to you. 

“So you did it.” He says with a smile. You smile back. 

“Yeah I did.  Thanks to you.”

“Blue suits you.” he says with a blush. You squint at him for a second and let out a chuckle. 

“Thanks” ,You’re both silent for a few seconds, watching the souls leave. You speak up again. 

“Why aren’t you leaving like them” You question him.

“I don’t know, I guess my time here isn’t up.” he says looking out at the horizon. You nod and look at around trying to figure out where you are. 

“So, what are you going to do next” he asks. Your body stiffens as you are filled with resentment.

“I’m going to visit my father.” You say, eyes glowing a neon blue.

You will remember my name.

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

A/N: HI!so this is my first ever fanfic! i hope anyone who reads this enjoys it!! Let me know what you think and what i can improve on!💕

#tony stark x daughter!reader #danny phantom #fanfic #marvel #marvel x reader #reader insert #tony stark #tony stark imagine #peter parker x stark!reader #the avengers #poc reader #avengers x teen!reader #x reader #danny phantom x reader #steve rogers x reader #crossover #poison #poison ivy

[starkskypines]

i choose you

pairing: Loki x gn!Reader

summary: You’re hanging out with the Avengers when the game turns into either/or questions and you have to pick between Steve and Loki, but you have the biggest, most secret crush on Loki, so you say Steve. Loki convinces you to change your answer. 

warnings: none 

word count: 2.6k

a/n: I wrote this for day 28 of swoon june: domestic. And this is the most swoon worthy thing i’ve written the entire month lol

                                                 ***

“Banana pudding or french fries?” Natasha asks.

“French fries,” Tony says immediately. Clint agrees. Loki nods his head in agreement as well.

“Pudding,” you say. Steve hums his agreement.

“Pudding is delightful,” Thor agrees.

“My turn.” Clint grins, and you and Nat share a look. You know what this means. It’s going to be another ridiculous question.

Clint turns his head in your direction. “This one is specifically for y/n.” You don’t know what question he intends to ask, but you can read that teasing glint in his eyes. “Spend the rest of your life with Steve or Loki?”

You laugh. “What? That’s not like the other questions.”

“Yes, it is. You just have to make a choice.”

“Make a choice?” You laugh again. It sounds uncomfortable to your own ears. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“Am I?” Clint retorts. “It’s a simple question. Loki or Steve?”

You glance at Loki and find him still watching you from his place on the chair next to the sofa where you are currently perched on. You flick your gaze to the rest of the Avengers around the room, either on the same sofa as you or one of the other chairs. The movie night turned into truth or dare and then random questions as the night wore on, and now it’s two-thirty in the morning and clearly, your crush on Loki isn’t as hidden as you thought it was.

“I know who’d I choose,” Nat says. “It’s not a hard choice. We’ve all seen Steve’s muscles. Those rock-hard abs.”

“And his chiseled jawline,” Tony adds.

“C’mon, y/n, we all answered the questions. I don’t get why this is such a big deal.” Clint leans forward from the chair diagonally across from you.

You know hesitating isn’t good, but you also know that admitting to your crush on Loki is not good. You don’t want all the teases. You just want the feelings to go away and stop complicating your life.

“The hesitation says a lot.” Tony is staring at you now, and you’ve never been able to hide anything from him. And you’re lucky Nat decided to drink tonight, or she’d be reading all your secrets too.

“Fine. Fine. Cap of course. The whole star-spangled thing is... eye-catching.”

The laughs sound out and Clint smirks. You don’t look at either Steve or Loki as the game continues.

“Alright Thor, what’s your question?” Clint asks, allowing the game to continue, and you’re so grateful. The game goes for another hour, and you find the questions easier when they’re not about Loki and so it’s fun to make fun of the other Avengers and listen to their laughs. It’s so joyous here, and you’re glad to be a part of it.

“Well, I hate to be the responsible adult here, but I’ve got a 7 am meeting,  so let’s call it a night.”

“Tony? Responsible?” Nat laughs.

“Once in a lifetime achievement. You’re all lucky to be witnesses.”

The teasing continues as they leave the living room for their floors. You don’t notice you’re following Nat to the kitchen until you’re both putting your glasses in the sink.

Nat nods to you and leans forward. “You can’t fool me.”

You blink. “I’m tired. Talk in the morning?”

“Glad you know I won’t let this drop.” Her eyes soften. “But yes. I will let you sleep first, figure out your story.” She winks.

There’s movement from beside you. and you don’t have to look to know it’s Loki.

“Want me to walk you back to your room, or should Loki do the honors?”

You know you’re blushing. but you look to Loki and then back to Nat and glare at her. “I’ll let you walk me back.”

Loki moves quicker than you’re expecting, stepping toward you with a small smirk on his face, mischief and something softer in his eyes. “Wrong choice, darling.”

And oh, oh, you’re gone. Your breath catches and you don’t really think you can feel your heart anymore and is it possible to be instantly five degrees hotter? It’s his voice that does things to you that should be illegal and the way he moves toward you with such intent, and whatever he asks you know you’ll give it to him.

Your back hits the fridge, and you’re helpless to look away from his eyes, his cheeks, his lips, his chin, his eyes, his lips.

“Want to reconsider your answer to that question and a previous one tonight?”

Your heart is pounding in your chest, throat dry, and the chill of the fridge isn’t enough to cool you off.

“What?” You’re barely capable of coherent thought right now. Loki’s leaning in now and your brain is white noise and is your heart pounding straight out of your chest?

“Me or Steve?” You stare at his lips as they form those words and have to swallow before dragging your gaze back to his eyes, flashing green and entirely serious and oh, oh no, he can’t play with you like this. Doesn’t he know what he does to you?

“What would my answer change?” You aren’t breathing correctly anymore and you don’t know why you don’t just admit that duh, it’s Loki. It’s always Loki because it’s so obvious now as you can hardly control your reactions to him.

“Whether or not I kiss you goodnight.”

Your eyes go wide, your mouth falls open, and your heart stops beating, lungs stop working, brain stops processing.

Nat’s laugh is what brings you out of it. “I think you broke them, Lokes.”

Loki doesn’t take his gaze off you, and that’s what kicks your brain back online. He’s not laughing or smirking. He’s serious. Maybe just to satisfy his curiosity, but you know how few in his life actually choose him and you want him to know that you do. You choose him. Over everyone.

You bite your lip a second before taking a breath and answering.

“Of course it’s you. Didn’t want to admit it because of all the teasing so I said Steve. But it’s been you for a while now.” You look away and shrug, not sure you want to see the rest of his reaction as his expression didn’t change as you spoke.

“Of course?” And he sounds confused so you meet his gaze now.

“Wouldn't seriously choose anyone else.” You mumble out, embarrassed by it because Nat is still there.

“Let’s get you to bed.” Loki holds out his hand. It’s instinct to grab his hand, and it’s warm and calloused yet soft all at once, a contradiction just like him. And when Loki pulls you to his side and you can feel his body against yours, your brain blanks out again.

It’s a silent walk back to your door, and you wonder what Loki thinks of you now, but it’s three-thirty in the morning and you don’t quite care anymore so you keep his hand in yours as you step from his side to punch in your door code. (It helps you sleep better to have a code on your locked door, despite knowing that you are beyond safe in the Avengers tower.)

“Goodnight, darling.” He brings your hand to his lips and presses a kiss to the already warm skin, his mouth warm against your hand and it’s a moment that should remain unbroken forever and it seems to go on for just that long, but Loki raises his eyes to meet yours and then it’s over and his hand is slipping from yours and you step forward, not quite sure what you’re doing but knowing you don’t want this to be over. But Loki knows better than you what you want and as your fingers touch his face and your palms slide along his cheeks he’s already in your personal space with his face inches from yours.

“You’re tired, love.” And you know he’s right. You know that you’re only doing this because you don’t want this to go away in the morning, not because you’re ready. You’re not one to rush into things. And you definitely don’t want to rush this if tomorrow you wake up and it’s still here and Loki is still serious.

“You’ll be here in the morning?” you ask.

“You choose me. I’ll choose you.” His breath is warm against your cheek, and you sag forward into him letting your hands fall from his face and your head fall to his chest.

“You don’t know–”

“What that means.” He finishes your sentence and places a hand under your chin and tilts your face up so that he can look at you. “I hope you know what your words mean and that you don’t use them in vain because I would never lie to you.”

He’s serious, his words fanning across your cheek. And you swallow, bite your lip to keep from saying something unintelligible. You just nod quickly over and over again.

“The morning then.” He smiles, soft and warm, and leans down to press a kiss against your forehead. “Sleep now.”

He steps away, and you feel the absence of his touch down to your very soul. But it’s okay because you’ll see him in the morning. So you turn and you open your door and you don’t look back. For this to work, there has to be trust. And you trust that these late-night words and touches will mean so much more in the morning.

                                                     ***

The morning comes, and Loki finds you after breakfast right as Steve invites you on his morning run. Sometimes you join him, depending on how you’re feeling, and after staying up so late last night you’re not really feeling it, but Steve wouldn’t be Steve if he didn’t try to encourage you to go running with him, listing the benefits of running. And you know he’s right, that’s usually why you give in, and this morning you’re on the verge of giving in when Loki walks in and wraps his arms around you.

His arms slide around you, and the warmth of his body boils you alive. You’re blushing, and it only gets worse when you meet Steve's eyes and he raises a brow.

Loki rests his head on your shoulder, his dark hair tickling your neck. “Good morning, darling.”

His voice is still raspy from sleep, and you turn and his grip tightens and you’re so not okay right now but yep, yep, he’s still in his pajama top and bottoms with his sleep mussed hair and holy hotness, did he even brush it or did he just finger comb it, and oh, how you wish that it could be your fingers running through his dark hair. It has to be soft right? Oh, please let it be soft.

“I'll see you for our run tomorrow,” Steve promises and leaves the kitchen, and you’ve already forgotten what Steve was talking about, but you manage a nod and that’s all.

“You’re tense,” Loki muses.

“You–” You clear your throat. “You have your arms around me.”

Loki pulls away, leaving you feeling cold. He comes to stand in front of you. “I thought we’d agreed to do this.”

“Do what?” You shake your head. “I got like four hours of sleep. I don't really remember everything that was said.” You bite your lip as you move past him. That’s not entirely true because you remember most everything that was done and said by Loki, but you’re not sure of the meaning behind any of it.

“Oh.”

You turn back around once you’ve poured yourself a glass of water for your suddenly dry throat. Loki looks contemplative and a bit discouraged.

Loki looks up at you with a sudden grin. “Well, you said you’d choose me over Steve. Every time.”

You know you’re blushing again, and it’s ridiculous but all you can answer is, “Yes, that’s true.”

“And then I said I choose you. And that is still true.”

“Right.” You open and close your mouth for a moment, looking for the words. “And that means what exactly?” You take a breath. “Because for me it means that like I...I want to date...you.” You watch his reaction, and his smirk has you burying your face in your hands with a groan.

“Quite eloquent.” He comes up beside you and takes hold of your hand, the warmth of the contact shooting through you and causing you to raise your head. “But I appreciate the honesty.” He brings your hand to his lips and then releases it and steps away one step. He leans on the counter and looks up at you, blue eyes now serious. “I would like to woo you. make you mine. I believe you midgardians do call it dating.” He smiles.

You nod and proceed to stumble over your words. “Yeah, no, yeah, that, uh, is good.”

Loki laughs and turns his head away as he moves into a standing position.

You know your face must be redder than Thor’s cape at this point, and you feel like you’ve been laying out in the sun for far too long but you’re overjoyed too. Loki wants to date you. Last night wasn’t some sleep-deprived misunderstanding. You’re on the same page.

“So like if we went out for hotdogs in Central Park and ice cream, that’d be our first date?”

Loki tilts his head with a questioning smile. “You really want our first date to be disgusting hot dogs from an unsanitary street merchant?”

You laugh because you’re nervous. “No. I know you don’t like hotdogs. I know that. I just…” You take a deep breath. “I don't need anything fancy. I don't want anything fancy. I…” And your smile goes soft. “I just want to spend time with you. Actually, I’d be more fine with ordering in hibachi and turning on the PS4 and crushing you at Star Wars Battlefront, and then going out for ice cream. Bad or awkward things tend to happen when I go out with the Avengers.”

Loki laughs. “You do seem to be our bad luck charm.”

“Right, and I don't want to mess up our first date. So let’s stay in.”

“That sounds wonderful.” Loki smiles, and your heart flutters in your chest. He's still in his pajamas just as relaxed as can be in the kitchen as the two of you plan your date, and it's unbelievable in a sense that last night’s game turned into this.

“I should go get dressed.” He moves forward. “Is it frowned upon to kiss on the first date?”

You shake your head, and he takes a step closer.

“Right, and the date begins when exactly?” He tilts his head and narrows his eyes and that shouldn’t be as attractive as it is.

“Now,” you say, blinking up at him.

He smiles, slow and sexy, and you find yourself leaning toward him. He steps close, a hand on your waist.

“I'm going to kiss you now.”

“Yep.”

He dips his head down and his hand comes up and tilts your chin up. His lips are warm against yours and you melt against him. He slides his hand from your chin to your neck before sliding around to your shoulder, providing his arm as a cushion for your head. It’s the softest, most gentlest kiss, and you never want it to end but end it must as all good things do.

Loki pulls away with a small soft smile on his lips and you lean up and kiss him again, just a simple press of the lips to his. He grins and laughs. And you laugh too, staring into his blue eyes and hoping that that kind of a kiss will happen a hundred times again. You’ll never tire of it, never tire of Loki. And you get the feeling he feels the same about you.

#swoonjune2021 #day 28 #reader fic #loki x reader #domestic fluff #loki x gender neutral reader #loki x gn!reader #loki #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #avengers #loki fic #mcu fic #loki oneshot #loki laufeyson oneshot

[greycaelum]

Grey chiii my sweet adorable kiddo❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ congratulations on 500. I am so proud of you. And to see your fics reach so many ppl gills me with joy. Waiting for 100 soon because ik it won't take long. You deserve each and everyone 9f the follower for that matter❤️

For the even may I request crack 2 and wild card 4? Gojo and geto +-shoko conversing about /with yn in 4l 5s? Thank you (you know I am biased about yakuza au and gods au🤣)

Thank you!

Jujutsu Kaisen: Gojo Satoru X OC [Yotsuba Shina]

(Four Leaves & Five Streets Mafia/Yakuza AU Series)

500 followers Event || Prompt List ||

[Cakes and Bruises]

[Note & Warning: Mentions of injuries, fluff, foes to friends...]

[Grey says: This one sure challenged my brain cells how to connect it, I wanted to put Sukuna in here but I can't resist writing fluff for these two. Thank you so much Nee-sama and I hope you enjoy this one as much as I enjoyed writing for Satoru and Shina!]

Crack Prompt 2 & Wild Card Prompt 4

"If I'm dying, let me eat cake."... "You're not dying."... "Let me eat the cake anyway!" + "She's so young. She mostly just looks like a potato with eyes."... "That's your newborn you're talking about."

I.

"You took that one too far." Suguru sighed and popped a mint candy into his mouth.

Silence loomed at the room while Satoru turned his head to the side, the bandage on his cheeks hiding the scrapes and bruises marring his jade skin.

"How did you get beaten up this much?" Shoko shook her head and check on the IV. "I'll get this your IV out after an hour."

"Three days of not seeing Shina-san, and you go out only to come back bloody from fights" Suguru chuckled. The raven hair started to bring out the cakes and lined them on the coffee table. "Look I even bought you a cake to celebrate your achievement! Tiramisu, strawberry shortcake, cheesecake, what do you want Satoru?"

"Get lost! What kind of friend are you to celebrate when I'm sick?!." The man huffed.

"Well for starters it's rare to see you beat up. Second, I just feel like it," Suguru shrug and laugh evading the flying water bottle thrown by Satoru to the raven-haired's face.

"He's acting like a kid," Shoko murmured.

"He's a kid," Suguru repeated and took a seat and open the packaging of the cake, exaggeratedly tearing the plastic open while watching the back of his best friend.

"And since when did you start losing your fuse? You have a good range of control, don't you?" Shoko questioned and proceed to open the other packaging of the cake, a much louder and scratchier way of tearing the plastic making their friend shift uncomfortable on the bed with his back on them.

"It seems he goes crazy if he can't get his Shina Vitamins once in a day. At least if you're going to fight, don't come home dirty and sleep on Shina-san's bed. I have to purchase new bed sheets because of you," Suguru sighed and chuckled at the memory.

"What is he? Shina's guard dog?" Shoko snorted and extended her fork to take a slice from Suguru's tiramisu cake.

"Oi! I'm her fiance! Her fiance!" Satoru shot up from the bed and glared at his two best friends ganging up on him, talking about him as if he's not in the hearing range.

"Fiancee, but no engagement ring in her finger," Shoko scoffed.

The room fell silent and when the door opened the three of them jump in surprise. Walking in Shina's footsteps sounds heavy like the executioner's ax chopping the platform.

"I remember there's a limited cream puff in the cafeteria, I'll go grab one," Shoko cleared her throat and stood up. There's no way I want to get caught in these two's talk. She thought and cleaned the table.

"I'm going to grab a coffee, Shoko! Wait for me," Suguru called out to the brunette, standing up he turn his back on Satoru who just glared at his friends abandoning him. The office door closed and that leaves the engaged couple currently in an iddy biddy 'lover's quarrel' all along by themselves.

Because of the partition, Satoru can't see Shina on the other side but based on the sound of the keyboard and scribbling pen she must be working.

She didn't really check on me! Satoru seethed and grumpily laid down his bed in a sullen mood.

He still remembers last night how she came home late at 11 after Suguru called her that he's hurt, how she treated his gashes silently even when he whined how the alcohol stings she didn't flinch or even soften her dabs. She just quietly patched him up while he sit there in frustration on her home office couch. He went to sleep while she was working and when he woke up even her jasmine scent, not a linger was left in the place telling him she's long gone to work.

Now he's here, invading her clinic office, after dragging Suguru to accompany him in the hospital, with IV drip and bandages hanging on his bruised-up body. There's was no way he's going to the hospital, but there's also no way he's going away unless he and Shina get a proper talk. That's why he's here lying in her clinic bed.

The time passes slowly, and no sign of Shoko and Suguru coming back. All the time he kept thinking and listening to the tapping of the keyboard. Then it all stop and her footsteps started walking. Her shadow loomed on his back, while he face the wall. Seconds later she started walking and his eyes met her body in front of his eyes. He heard the ripping of plastic and Shina fitting in a latex glove.

"Give me your hand," Shina said in a monotone.

Satoru groaned and give her his hand with the needle. The tapes around his IV drip, she started peeling them off and put on gauze, pulling out the cannula from his skin, and applied pressure on the spot where the needle was removed.

"Ow!" He whined and look up to Shina's whose cold gaze remained unperturbed. Now's my chance!

"If I'm dying let me eat the cake," he mumbled, Satoru's eyes straying to the table where the packaging of the strawberry shortcake is left untouched.

"You're not dying."

She finally speak to me! Satoru's soul is crying in joy internally hearing Shina's voice after days of not seeing each other and last night's silent treatment.

"Let me eat the cake anyway!" Satoru whined and look up at the lady with glimmering eyes only to be shut up with the wintery look on her black orbs. Satoru's shoulders deflated and resigned. He doesn't like seeing her frown or looking at him coldly.

He knows how much she hates seeing blood, and to what the reason why she's still a doctor despite it. It only makes him admire her more. Maybe that's why she's mad at him...

"Goj—Satoru," Shina cleared her throat. "Why did you go out and get this hurt so much?"

Shina walk to the table and tidied the mess Shoko and Suguru didn't put away and sat with legs crossed looking at the white-haired man lying on the bed.

Satoru bit his lips and opened his mouth to say what he should've said before they got into the little cold war.

"It was just a squabble with the Zen'ins, nothing much." He murmured but looking straight to the lady doctor's waiting eyes, he finally spill, "If I don't go out and distract myself, I'm going to be crazy enough to cling around you while you work even when you told me not to disturb you," Satoru confessed earning a sigh from the lady.

II.

“She’s so young. She mostly just looks like a potato with eyes" A couple in the nursery room, with the man holding a small bundle of joy in his arms muttered. “That’s your newborn you’re talking about.” His wife said.

"You should ask Chichiue for a leave to take care of your family, your wife would need your help," Shina with her hands tucked in her white coat smiled to the couple who thanked her again and excused themselves to bring their daughter home.

After the couple left she turned around where the white-haired man trailing behind her with a bright wide smile attached to his peachy lips when earlier he was pouting and grumbling to her.

"That was one of your family's subordinates?" Satoru asked and followed Shina walking to the other wing of the hospital.

"Yes, his wife needed caesarian and she's my patient. Stop following me around, go and rest."

"I'll be waiting for you at home then?" Satoru looks at her with hopeful eyes.

They did talk earlier, about how much she's been staying in the hospital, not getting proper rest. And their schedule clashing. Satoru and her had reached a point of truce. Surely they're not lovers but they're also past acquaintances. Friends... perhaps?

"Let's go to my clinic," Shina said and they walk to the room, she started writing reports while Satoru quietly sit on the couch. In not less than ten minutes she counted the papers and cleaned her desk, grabbing her bag and turning to a puzzled Satoru looking at her.

"I'm going home with you," Shina gave him a small smile and walk to the door. She needs to turn in her reports first.

"Really?" Satoru followed her behind with a confused yet excited look and wide eyes like a puppy trailing after its master with a wagging tail.

'She said home, she's going home with me,' Satoru's eyes lit up. It was just one word but hearing it from the lady doctor's lips makes his heart leap and mood brighter than the cloudless sky. Reaching in the pocket of his sweatpants, and unwrapping the thing Satoru tapped Shina's shoulders.

"Wha—" Shina look back and a small lump popped on her lips and the sugary taste flooded her tastebuds. Her eyes widened and stare at Satoru's amused eyes and smiled, the lemon lollipop in her mouth further spread its sugary taste.

"Let's go home!" Satoru beamed and pulled the astonished lady to his car.

—GreyCaelum

PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME

Check out the 4L&5S Series Masterlist for more.

All rights and credits of the Jujutsu Kaisen character(s) mentioned, image(s) and song(s) used belong to their respective owner(s).

General/4L&5S Yakuza/Mafua AU Series Taglist: @ice-icebaby   @aeanya @baekhyunatthehauntedhouse @wobblewobble822 @descargueestoporgojosatoru @dlb113 [please check your setting if the tag isn't working]

#gojo satoru imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagines #gojo satoru fanfic #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #greycaelum #jujutsu kaisen satoru #jjk fluff #mafia gojo fluff #jjk mafia au #mafia gojo #jjk mafia gojo #jjk mafia #yotsuba shina #mafia geto suguru #ieiri shoko #four leaves & five streets series #greycaelum 500 event #gojo satoru x oc

[the-modernmary]

you’ll always know me || aaron hotchner x reader

Summary: "I would have stayed... If you asked me to.

After your high school graduation, you left without saying goodbye to Aaron Hotchner, your best friend, and nobody had heard from you since. Years later, you're back in DC, and catching up with Aaron brings more than you could have possibly hoped for.

Warnings: mentions of weed

A/N: I really wanted some soft Hotch content in my life after all the angst in my best habit, and this is about as soft as I can get. Inspired by Taylor Swift's "dorothea". Honestly, I was listening to evermore, blacked out for about three hours, and this is what came from that. There is no other explanation for this. It's written differently than my usual style, but I hope y'all like it still!

read on ao3 || masterlist

~~~~~~~

“What’s got you in such a rush?”

  Rossi eyes Aaron carefully as the latter circles around his office, double and triple-checking that he didn’t forget anything. The last thing he wants is to have to come back to the office and cut his day short.

  Aaron shoves a few case files in his briefcase. “An old friend from high school is in town and I’m meeting up with her.”

  Rossi perks up at the word ‘her’ and he leans against the door frame. Aaron notices this, too, because he shakes his head quickly. “It’s not like that. We both got sent to boarding school for being problem children and we became quick friends. I haven’t talked to her since graduation. She just packed up her stuff and left the very next day.”

“You sound bitter,” Rossi points out.

  “Not at all,” he lies, trying to forget the hurt of running to your dorm for your weekly breakfast together, only to be met with an empty room and a singular polaroid. “I knew she hated it there and her goal was to travel and see as many places as she could. Honestly, I’m surprised she’s back stateside at all. Last I heard, she was doing some art apprenticeship in Italy, but that was years ago.”

  “You sound like you have a long evening ahead of you, so I’ll get out of your hair. And have some fun tonight, Aaron. You deserve it,” Rossi adds on as an afterthought. 

  The corners of Aaron's mouth lift slightly. “I will. Try not to let the building burn down while I’m gone. Reid is back on his physics magic kick, and I think I heard something about a lighter.”

  Rossi gives Aaron a two-finger, half-hearted salute in acknowledgment, which is all it takes for Aaron to shut his office door and head towards the elevator. Knowing that you’re just outside, he has to make a conscious effort to slow his pace from an excited jog to just an anxious speed walk. The elevator ride is slow, seemingly stopping at every single floor on the way down, which gives his mind ample time to wander and think back to graduation day.

  “There you are!” Aaron shouts from across the football field as he runs up to you, shoving through bustling groups of families trying to take pictures. He has so many stoles and cords and leis around his neck that you can barely see the suit he’s wearing underneath his gown. It’s a stark contrast to you, with only a singular chord for academic achievement, although a 3.2 wasn’t much of an achievement in the eyes of most people at boarding school.

  “Here I am!” you laugh, throwing your arms around him in a hug and breathing in the smell of his cologne.

  “Where’re your parents? Didn’t they come?”

  “Of course they didn’t. They’re not ones for celebrating something as trivial as high school graduation, not when it’s just expected of me.” You roll your eyes. “What about you? I thought you and Haley were going to do the whole ‘meet the family’ thing today?”

  Aaron is oblivious to the bitterness in your voice, although that’s nothing new. “We are, but I just wanted to give these to you.” It’s then that you notice the bouquet of flowers in his hand, although it’s now being pressed into your arms. “As a congrats. And a thank you for being there for me this whole time. You’re my best friend.”

  You try to ignore the ache in your chest at his words. “Thank you, Aaron. I… I didn’t get you anything, I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” he waves it off. “If you want to get me something, breakfast is your treat tomorrow.”

  “Okay, deal,” you agree, the smile coming back to your face. Selfishly, you don’t want him to go back to Haley or his family just yet. You want him to stay there with you so you don’t feel so lonely in the crowd of happy graduates. “God, I can’t believe you’re staying in D.C. for college. We always talked about getting out, seeing the world and never coming back.”

  Aaron shrugs, and you watch as he brushes away a piece of his hair that falls into his face. “I’m hoping that going to GW for undergrad will make it easier to get into law school there.”

  “And Haley Brooks is still here for another year,” you point out, half accusatory.

  “Yeah, that, too.” Aaron chuckles uncomfortably before quickly switching the conversation. “What about you? Have you decided what you’re going to do?”

  “There’s an art school in Glasgow I’m thinking of going to. But, you know… George Washington also has an art program. It’s pretty nice, too. I’m still deciding.” You trail off, looking straight into Aaron’s eyes, giving him every chance in the world to make the decision for you.

  Aaron hesitates, fighting an internal battle. “Go to Glasgow!” he says, fake enthusiasm in his voice, but your disappointment blocks out anything but his actual words. “Then I’ll have an excuse to visit Scotland.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I was leaning towards, too,” you lie. “Aaron, I—”

  You’re cut off by a voice calling his name. You both turn around to see Haley Brooks waving him over, her other hand holding 7-year-old Sean’s hand. She looks like spring personified, her blonde hair in bouncy curls and her pink sundress swishing around her long, slender legs. Her smile is so big that it could have parted storm clouds, and you want nothing more than to hate her with every single fiber of your being.

  But then you see Aaron, returning her megawatt smile with his own, one you rarely ever saw, and how can you hate somebody who makes him so happy?

  “I have to go, I’m sorry,” he says, although there’s not even a hint of regret in his voice. “But I’ll see you for one last Sunday breakfast tomorrow?”

  “I’ll see you then,” you lied.

  How Aaron could have missed the signs of your unhappiness, he’ll never know. At that time, all he knew was that you left without ever saying goodbye, leaving behind only a polaroid of the two of you from your weekend trip to Virginia Beach, both of you drunk and laughing with your arms wrapped around each other. He still has it, buried in his nightstand somewhere, but he hasn’t had the courage to look at it for a few years now.

  As Aaron steps out of the FBI building, he recognizes you instantly, even though it’s only the back of your head, and it causes his breath to catch in his throat. He calls your name and watches as you turn around, your hair whipping around you, and the fact that you still have that same mischievous glint in your eyes is enough to make him feel like he’s sixteen again and nervously skipping class with you holding his hand and pulling him towards the school gates.

  “Aaron!” You jog up to him and throw your arms around him in a hug, which he happily reciprocates. You press a quick kiss to his cheek before pulling away, and Aaron’s entire face burns.

  You keep your hands on his biceps, holding him at arm’s length, as you study him. He looks almost exactly the same as he did all those years ago, with soft hair and the slightest bit of stubble, but he looks less carefree. He seems more mature, like life had aged him 100 years. Still, as cute as high school Aaron was, it had nothing on how good he looks now. “Look at you, Mr. FBI, all suit and corporate-looking! I never thought I’d see the day.”

  “Yeah, I guess I’ve changed quite a bit,” he admits, and the sight of his dimples makes you want to melt right there into the sidewalk. “It’s really good to see you again. I’ve missed you.”

  “Oh, I’m sure you barely thought about me,” you joke, but hurt flashes through your eyes.

  Aaron wants to argue, to tell you that he thinks about you all the time, but decides against it. He doesn’t want to spend the precious few hours he has with you bringing up old issues. “Are you hungry? Because there’s this diner a few blocks down with giant milkshakes.”

  “Why are we still standing here, then? All you had to say was milkshakes, they’re my favorite.”

  “I know. I remember,” he says, and that all-too-familiar pang in your heart comes back like it had never left. “Come on, we can walk and cut through a park.”

  The two of you start your walk in comfortable silence, listening to the bustling city around you. Every once in a while, your hands would bump into his, and you were doing everything you could to ignore it.

  “So did you ever go to that art school?” he asks suddenly, looking over at you.

  You nod, a soft smile forming on your face. “I did. You were right, I loved Scotland.”

  “Where did you go after that? Nobody heard from you.”

  Your eyes sparkle as memories of your life the past few years flash through your mind. “Everywhere. Literally. I took a bunch of odd jobs and spent my time traveling,” you admitted. “I taught English in Vietnam for a year, worked on a cruise ship that went around South America, was an au pair for a French ambassador, went on research expeditions… Even dated a pilot for all of six months. Anything I could do that would let me see the world.” You laugh to yourself, shaking your head fondly. “I really put that private boarding school tuition to good use, huh? My parents were pissed.”

  “It sounds like you were living the life you dreamed of,” Aaron says softly, looking down at you.

  “It was,” you agree, your voice a little sad.

  “So then why are you back here in DC?”

  You shrug, your hands clasped behind your back, and you step down on a particularly crunchy leaf. “I’m just passing through. I’ve been going around the US and looking for a place to settle down. Finally. Figured I might as well put that art degree to good use. Maybe I’ll open a gallery or something.”

  Aaron nods slowly as the chill of autumn runs through his bones. It’s nice, though, in a weird way. He’s always preferred the fall over spring. “Where have you looked so far?”

  “Lots of places. San Francisco, Portland, Seattle, Atlanta, San Antonio, Miami… I’m heading up to New York next. Nothing’s felt right so far. But enough about me, how are you? I heard you married Haley Brooks.”

  That same bitterness you felt in high school when you talked about Haley comes back with a vengeance. It’s unfair, and you know that. How was Aaron supposed to know that you were practically in love with him in high school if you never told him? Even now, you’re sure that he hasn’t put together the pieces.

  You watch as his gaze falls slightly. “I did. She died a few years ago.”

  “I’m sorry,” you whisper, and you reach out to give his hand a small squeeze.

  “We got divorced a little while before it happened,” he explains, unsure why it’s so important to him that you know that. “I blamed myself for it for a long time. But I’ve, uh… I’ve made peace with it now.”

  You give him a comforting smile, fully aware of the fact that you’re still holding his hand. “Aaron Hotchner, making peace with something in his life? I never thought I’d see the day.”

  Aaron chuckles and bumps his shoulder to yours. “I’ve been known to do it a few times. But only a few. Haley and I have a son, though. His name is Jack. He’s 8 now.”

  You shake your head in disbelief, and your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. “And you’re a father? Wow, you really have changed.”

  “Is that a bad thing?” he asks, and you shake your head wordlessly.

  “I like every version of Aaron Hotchner,” you promise. “Besides, change is a good thing. Especially since this city hasn’t changed a bit.”

  Aaron looks around, eyebrows furrowed, like he’s seeing DC for the very first time. “It’s actually changed quite a bit. But it’s subtle. Only people who have been here as long as I have would even notice it, probably.”

  The words cut through you both as a painful reminder of your abrupt departure from DC, and the silence settles over the two of you like a thick fog. This conversation was going to have to happen no matter what, you knew that going into this meeting with Aaron, but you didn’t expect it to happen so soon.

  “I would have stayed,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “If you asked me to.”

  Aaron shakes his head as his Adam’s apple bobs. “I thought about it. But I couldn’t do that to you. I knew you wanted to see the world, and you said it yourself. This city had nothing left to offer you.”

  You pause, rubbing your thumb over your fingertips with your freehand. “It had you,” you reply, and Aaron feels like he was just stabbed in the heart. “That would have been enough.” Seeing Aaron’s dejected face, you quickly keep talking. “But I get it, don’t worry. You were head over heels for Haley Brooks. Everybody knew you two were meant to be together.””

  “What does that have to do with you leaving?” he asks, more accusatory than he intended.

  “Everything.”

  Aaron breathes out your name, unsure of what to say until he settles on: “I’m sorry.”

  You wave him off, forcing a laugh. “Don’t be. I was 17 years old with a crush. We do stupid things, like want to stay at home for a boy. I’m glad I left. Besides, Haley Brooks was clearly the love of your life, and far be it from me to try and break up the golden couple.”

  The two of you stop in front of the diner and you drop Aaron’s hand, much to his disappointment, although you’re still close enough to him to see your reflection in his brown eyes. “I didn’t know you felt like that about me,” he says.

  “Which is surprising, because everybody else definitely knew. But you’ve always been a little clueless when it comes to stuff like that,” you tease, flashing him a toothy smile. “But it’s in the past. So come on, I want to hear about this FBI stuff and drink a milkshake so big it makes my stomach hurt.”

  Twenty minutes later, you and Aaron find yourselves smushed together in a corner booth covered in cheap vinyl, splitting a chocolate milkshake and laughing as you stroll down memory lane. 

  “You know, I ran into Stephen yesterday! A little coffee shop not too far from here,” you tell Aaron.

  Aaron almost drops the fry he was about to eat. “Do you mean Stoner Stephen? What is he doing back here?”

  You take a sip of the milkshake, and Aaron’s gaze is intense as you wrap your lips around the straw. When you pull back, he’s still staring at the soft pink your lipstick leaves behind. “Apparently, he’s lived here for years. Also, did you know he’s crazy smart? Like… graduated 4th in our class, went to Brown undergrad and Columbia graduate, smart.”

  Aaron’s eyes go wide in disbelief. “And this is the same guy who, completely sober, tried putting his mattress in the pool so that he didn’t have to sleep in his own dorm?”

  “The very same one. He’s like a lobbyist now or something for some activist group.”

  “Wow, I did not expect that. Do you remember when he got so high that he thought his joint was going to catch the dorms on fire?” Aaron asks, the words barely discernible through his laughter. “So he warned campus police that the whole school was going to burn down.”

  “Yes!” you giggle, your head thrown back in laughter. “They thought it was an arson threat and they had to evacuate the whole school. I was taking an English final during that.”

  Aaron’s shoulder pressing against yours makes a shiver run down your spine. You idly wonder how much closer he can get to you if he really tried.

  As if reading your mind, Aaron turns towards you a little more so that your knees are touching and you can feel his breath on the side of your neck. “We went to the beach that weekend,” he says quietly, unwilling to break eye contact with you. “Drank cheap beer. You got stung by a jellyfish. I had to carry you back to the car.”

  No, no. You were not about to fall for Aaron Hotchner’s charm again that easily. Not again. It took you too long to get over him the first time. Still, you were leaning closer to Aaron, and Aaron was leaning in towards you, and your noses brushed as you tilt your head to the side ever so slightly and—

  And his phone rings. Aaron’s eyes flickered to your lips one last time before pulling away, giving you an apologetic look.

  “Hotchner,” he answers, and you pull your coat tighter around yourself as realization sinks into you. You feel like you’re 17 again, desperately waiting for Aaron to ask you to prom, only to hide in your dorm for days on end when he asked Haley Brooks.

  When Aaron hangs up, he immediately reaches into his pocket to pull out his wallet, setting enough cash on the table to cover the tab and tip. “That was work. We have to fly out to Arizona. I’m sorry.”

  You nod understandingly. “Gotta catch the bad guys. When do you leave?”

  It’s silent for a few torturous moments before he finally answers. “An hour, at most. We brief at the office and then get on the plane.”

  “Wow,” you breathe. “You weren’t kidding when you said that you live out of your suitcase. Can I walk back with you, at least?”

  Aaron smiles, a small smile that makes you wonder how often he actually smiles now. It used to be a lot, but from what he’s told you, it seems like he’s had a rough go of it the last couple of years, and has a lot less to smile about. It makes you sad because when you were traveling the world, his smile was the one thing you missed the most.

  “I’d really like that.”

  The two of you make small talk on the way back, swapping stories about Jack and your various adventures around the globe. The autumn air is crisp with leaves falling all around you. At one point, there was a big gust of wind, and leaves and pine needles got blown onto the two of you, and you took your sweet time running your fingers through his hair, bushing it all off him. 

  When you get to the entrance of the FBI building, neither one of you says anything. You just stand there, both unwilling to say goodbye. You turn to face each other, just as close as you were in the diner booth.

  “Oh, you have a…” Aaron delicately reaches his hand to your hair. His fingers in your hair make your stomach do flips, and you’re almost positive he can hear your racing heartbeat. His eyes stay trained on yours the entire time, never blinking. “Pine needle,” he whispers, holding the offending object between his fingers.

  “Thanks,” you breathe, and you’re not sure if it’s the autumn chill or his hand reaching to cup your cheek that sends goosebumps throughout your body.

  As if he were magnetic, you rise onto your toes, bringing yourself closer to him, and you press your lips against his. Aaron deepens the kiss and runs his thumb across your cheekbone. His other hand wraps itself around your waist. The kiss is slow and sensual and better than anything you could have dreamed of — and you dream of Aaron kissing you more often than you’d like to admit.

  All too soon, the two of you pull away from each other, both wearing matching smiles.

  “I should probably… get in there… before my team sends out a search party,” Aaron says reluctantly, pointing towards the entrance. 

  You give his hand a soft squeeze. “Go save lives. I’ll probably be around for a few more days before heading up to New York. If you’re back by then.”

  Aaron purses his lips, deep in thought. “You’re definitely settling down somewhere? Done with seeing the world?”

  “That’s the plan.”

  “Have you… Do you think…” Aaron takes a grounding breath, trying to gather the words he was too afraid to ask back at graduation. “Have you ever considered settling down here? There’s a pretty big art community here.”

  You shrug, ignoring excitement building in your chest. “I think my work is a little too experimental for the people of the capitol.”

  “You’d be surprised,” he chuckles.

  You bring your lower lip between your teeth, chewing nervously at it. “I don’t know… I left for a reason. I just don’t know what DC has to offer me anymore.”

  Aaron spreads his arms out at his side, palms facing you in an uncharacteristic display of vulnerability. “There’s me,” he offers, and, when your eyes go wide, he adds, “And Stoner Stephen, if I’m not enough.”

  A laugh bursts out of you uncontrollably, which seems to put both you and Aaron at ease. “That makes it a very tempting offer,” you tease.

  “And I have a coworker who flips houses. He’ll be able to tell you where to get the best deal on an apartment,” Aaron presses as if you need any more convincing. As if your mind isn’t already made up.

  “First, I need to know that there’s more than one good place to get milkshakes,” you point out, shoving your hands in your coat pockets. “You’ll have to show me around when you get back.”

  Aaron’s lips quirk up in a hopeful smile. “It’s a date.”

  He makes his way towards the entrance of the Hoover Building, but you call out his name, stopping him once more. “We’ll also need a new Sunday breakfast place. Since our old one is closed down.”

  Now, his smile is one of pure joy, and his eyes are sparkling in a way you haven’t seen in years. “I know just the place. As long as you don’t up and leave without telling me again.”

  “Never again,” you promise, and for once, the idea of staying doesn’t terrify you.

  “Then we’ll get breakfast together as soon as I get back.”

  You smile at him, already missing the feeling of his lips on yours. “I’ll see you then.”

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #criminal minds fanfiction #my writing

[keigoslovebird]

Next Chapter

Pairing: Ushijima Wakatoshi x Reader

Warnings: Manga spoilers!! Pregnancy and references to pregnancy, you have a child (obvi), aged up characters, breeding kink, negative self image (on Toshi’s part), references to alcohol, self deprecating language, very fluffy Daddy Toshi shenanigans

Genre: Fluff, smut

Word count: 8.3k

Author’s note: I had so much fun writing soft husband Toshi, if it isn’t obvious by the word count. I just want to rub his soft belly and tell him how much I love him. Hopefully you enjoy this as much as I did writing it!

Note: Flashbacks indicated by italics

Wakatoshi Ushijima has always been a man of few emotions and even fewer words, with just one thing on his mind—volleyball. 

Since he was a young child, he has always slept, eaten, breathed volleyball. Nothing came close to his fiery, burning passion for the sport, not that he had the time to care about anything else.

That all changed when he retired from professional volleyball at the ripe young age of thirty-one, the years of wear and tear on his body finally catching up to him. He knew it was time when the pain in his joints was so severe he could no longer keep up with his much younger teammates. It was a difficult, emotional decision, but he ultimately viewed it as passing the torch to the next generation of volleyball players.

The announcement of Wakatoshi’s retirement was met with great sadness from the sports community at the loss of such a talented, renowned player, but he left behind an exceptional legacy marked by achievements and historic wins. 

His final game with the Schweiden Adlers concluded in a symbolic victory, this chapter of his life drawing to a close the same way it began—with Wakatoshi as an indisputable champion. Every player, coach, and audience member rose from their seats, clapping and screaming words of encouragement. Each of his teammates got on their knees, lowering themselves to press their foreheads into the floor of the stadium, bowing in an ultimate show of respect. The sight of his peers, his coaches, the entire auditorium giving him such an impassioned send off made a heavy lump form in his throat that refused to go away, no matter how many times he tried to swallow it down. Tears pricked at his eyes but he didn’t want to cry, not in front of all of these people.

The dam broke when you sprinted across the court, wrapping yourself around him in a bone crushing hug.

“You did so well Toshi. I am so proud of you,” you praised through choked sobs, pressing your tear-stained face into his neck. Your watery eyes and trembling smile shattered whatever willpower he had, his own tears streaming down his face like a waterfall. All those late night practices away from you, the excruciating injuries, the heartbreaking losses, all led up to this moment. This was the last time the Super Ace would step foot on a volleyball court as a professional player, but all good things must come to an end. 

The screaming and clapping was so loud you could barely hear his quiet, trembling whisper of, “I love you.”

----

It took him awhile to adjust to what one would call a “normal” life, one that didn’t include daily flights from country to country or backbreaking practices that lasted from sunup to sundown. Sure he still went to the gym and practiced with the volleyball net strung up in your backyard, but it was nothing like his grueling schedule when he was a pro athlete. To make matters worse, the blinders he wore his entire life that blocked out anything but volleyball prevented him from finding any real hobbies of his own. This meant for the first few months, your husband followed you around the house like a lost puppy, just wanting to be a part of whatever you were doing.

You would be cooking dinner, some soup simmering on the stove, when Wakatoshi’s massive form would come up from behind you to shyly peek over your shoulder. 

“What’re you doing?” he wondered, resting his head in the crook of your neck.

You could feel a smile tugging at your lips at how cute he was being, getting used to domestic life, something you never really got to experience until now. Before, you would often be sleeping when he came home at night, and still be asleep when he left in the morning. “I’m just cooking, do you want to help me?” you asked, holding a knife out to him to cut some vegetables. He nodded silently as he took the knife from you. 

His chopping skills left much to be desired, but what could you really expect from a man who only ever held a volleyball?

Another time you were sitting on the couch, scrolling through Twitter on your phone. You could feel your husband staring so intensely you were afraid he’d pop a blood vessel in his head.

Looking up at him, you cleared your throat and asked, “Did you need something, Toshi?” You set your phone down and gave him a questioning look, hoping to solve whatever was troubling him.

He was pensive for a moment, his eyebrows scrunching as he figured out what he was trying to say. “No, I just… There’s nothing to do,” he answered finally.

You nearly burst out laughing at his concern for simply being bored, but you held it in. “Of course there’s something to do!” you exclaimed, “You can go on a walk, read a book, watch TV, or even just take a nap.”

His head tilted quizzically, unsure of what you were suggesting. “A… nap? Why would I sleep? It’s the middle of the afternoon,” he questioned, sounding like you had proposed he eat sand and not to take a quick snooze.

You chuckled and walked over to the chair he was sitting in, plopping yourself down into his lap. “Sometimes people sleep in the middle of the day because they’re tired, or just because they want to,” you clarified, “We can go take a nap right now if you would like.” 

Suddenly Wakatoshi stood up, causing you to squeak in surprise, his arms securely carrying you bridal style.

“W-what’re you doing!?” you squealed, panicked by your sudden lack of solid ground, slightly struggling in arms. 

He tilted his head again, reminiscent of a pet confused by its master’s orders. “We’re going to take a nap together, yes? I’m taking you to our room,” he said, jerking his head in the direction of your shared bedroom. 

You stopped squirming once you took in his words, your belly fluttering with affection. Sighing happily, you snuggled your face against his chest, giving him a simple “mhm” in response.

That day Wakatoshi took his first nap since he was six years old and to this day, he still swears he’s never had a more restful, peaceful sleep in his life.

Those instances happened less and less often as he figured out ways to occupy his time that didn’t involve volleyball. 

You adopted a dog, a commitment you didn’t want to make in the past due to both of your busy schedules, but your lives became a lot less hectic after Wakatoshi’s retirement. Your husband made it a daily ritual to take your puppy Leo out on a morning run, both of them returning tired and sweaty before promptly passing out for an hour. He took up a job at the local university to help coach their men’s volleyball team, deciding to try it out when the requests to lend his wisdom and skills kept coming in. Although, his favorite pastime now consists of him standing outside on the patio, beer in hand as he sweats over the flames of his fancy silver grill.

But perhaps the most significant change in your lives came in the form of your son, Hidetoshi. 

Much like your refusal to commit to taking care of a dog, neither of you wanted to have kids while your lifestyle was so unfit to raise a child. You didn’t mind making those compromises for your husband, having known the path he would take since you started dating in high school. Frankly, you didn’t mind not having children at all, so it surprised you when he was the one to broach the subject. 

“What if we did?” he inquired under the darkness of your bedroom.

You turned over to face him, reaching up to gently stroke his cheek. “What if we did what, my love?” you murmured.

His eyes flitted across your face with an uncharacteristic nervousness. “What if we decided to have a child?” The shock on your face made his stomach churn uncomfortably and he almost regretted saying anything at all, but his fears quickly vanished as your expression melted into a soft smile.

“We’d have to talk about it more but I’d love to have your children, Wakatoshi Ushijima.”

You had a deep, lengthy conversation about your wants, needs, plans for the future, and whether or not a kid would fit into them. Once all of your cards were on the table you decided to start trying to get pregnant, a mission that your husband took very seriously.

Even as a teenager Wakatoshi’s sex drive wasn’t very high, and his frequent absence and exhaustion in his adult life made it somewhat difficult for you to have sex often. You made up for it where you could, having phone sex and masturbating together over FaceTime, once you convinced him to do it. When he was bewildered as to why you would suggest such a salacious act, you explained you were a grown woman with needs and if he wasn’t there to take care of them, he’d have to help you in other ways. Once he realized how serious you were, he agreed. 

But your husband as a young adult and your husband post-retirement are almost two  completely different people in regards to sex. He has seemingly unlimited reserves of stamina, built up over years of rigorous, intense training, and he no longer had an outlet to expend them. So, his new outlet to test his endurance became you and your body.

He began fucking you every chance he got with the vigor and gusto of a hormonal teenager, seeking to make up for lost time. He asked for sex at all hours of the day, waking you up in the middle of the night with the insistent prodding of his arousal and lazily thrusting between your thighs in the early hours of the morning before you had to leave for work. He fucked you in every room in your house and on every surface—on the dining room table, in the shower, on the living room floor, and even on your back patio when you both got a little too drunk on some cheap rose. 

You welcomed Wakatoshi’s insatiable hunger with open arms, unable to resist your strong, ridiculously handsome husband, but that, coupled with his seemingly limitless stamina, spelled trouble for your muscles and pelvis. In the first year after his departure from professional sports you had to call in sick to work seven times, too tired to function, too bruised to look presentable, and too sore to walk to the bathroom. At first he felt guilty for fucking you out of commission, but the way you begged him so sweetly to pound your needy, gushing cunt deeper, harder, faster and how you whimpered with delight when he bit bruises down your throat, he didn’t feel that bad. A baser, more primal part of Wakatoshi’s brain purred at his marks covering our body and relished in the way you limped. You were just too tempting, too irresistible not to ravage you every chance he got.

After you agreed to start trying for a baby, your partner’s already voracious sexual appetite became downright menacing now that he had a goal to strive for. 

“Gonna breed you, gonna fill you so full with my cum and knock you up,” he grunted as he battered into your sore, dripping hole, your body folded in half in a mating press.

“P-please Toshi! Ah~ please,” you babbled, nonsensical and uncertain what you were even asking for. He had been fucking you for so long everything was muddled into a singular dreamy, intangible haze of pleasure and ecstasy. 

Wakatoshi gave your clit a slap, hard enough to make you cry out. “Please what? Please breed you like a bitch in heat? Please stuff you full with my cum?” He leaned down to wrap his fingers around your throat, squeezing with enough force to make your head swim and forcing you to look into his wild olive eyes. “Well, what is it?” he demanded.

“W-want you to b-ah! Want you to breed mee,” you slurred, too drunk on the delicious feeling of his cock dragging against your pulsing walls to form a more coherent sentence.

His thrusts grew sloppy and uncoordinated with his impending orgasm. “G-gonna give you what you want, you cock hungry slut, I’m—” He came with a choked, shuddering groan, his warm cum flooding your awaiting womb.

You were both basking in the afterglow, exhausted and soaked in sweat and your combined fluids, when you noticed the furious blush spreading across your husband’s cheeks. “I apologize for what I said during sex. I… I don’t know what came over me,” he confessed, giving your shoulder a remorseful squeeze.

Giggling, you leaned forward to kiss his cheek. “Don’t be sorry. I really enjoyed it,” you proclaimed, “I love it when you get rough with me.”

Trying to get you pregnant gave your husband a new goal to strive for and he has never been one to do anything with less than his all.

Thanks to your husband’s dedicated efforts, you got pregnant six months after you started trying, to your shared elation and delight. Those two little lines filled you with as much excitement as they made you anxious, but as long as Wakatoshi was by your side, everything would be okay. 

Seeing your little bundle of joy in a 3D ultrasound changed you, changed Wakatoshi forever. Up until then you had only seen him as a colorless little blur on a computer screen, but getting to watch his precious face scrunch and his chubby legs kick reminded you that he was a real living being. The late night sprints to the bathroom, horrible morning sickness, and miserably aching back were all worth it when you were able to hold Hidetoshi for the first time. With his olive eyes, brown hair and chubby cheeks, he was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen and to this day he still is. 

Taking after his father from the start, Hidetoshi was a happy baby that rarely fussed or cried, not that you complained. He slept soundly through most nights, so soundly you slept in a chair by his crib for the first month to periodically check he was still breathing, despite your husband’s insistence the baby would be fine. Your mother-in-law had insisted that you and Wakatoshi would be exhausted for the first several months after the birth. Imagine her surprised when you and Wakatoshi looked just as well-rested as usual, better even, since you no longer had to deal with pregnancy. Many people, relatives and strangers alike, were astounded at how charming and polite your son was, even as a newborn. He was happy to just sit and play with his toys as you had lunch, smiling and waving at everyone who passed by.

A man as attractive as your husband with a boy as sweet as your son meant that, much to your irritation, women were tripping over themselves to flirt with him. To make matters worse, Wakatoshi picked up your son alone most days due to your office job preventing you from leaving early enough to go with him. This meant many of the moms at Hidetoshi’s school thought your husband was single and they weren’t shy in their pursuit.

A crowd of women surrounded Wakatoshi as he waited for school to end so your son would come running out with his arms spread wide, confident his daddy would always catch him. Most of the moms simply stared at your husband with dreamy looks in their eyes, attempting to make small talk with him.

One especially bold mother reached out and stroked his bicep, slightly squeezing to get a feel for his muscles. “My my Ushijima, you’re so handsome and strong,” she purred, batting her eyelashes at him.

“My wife thinks so as well,” he grunted as he gently but firmly removed his arm from her grasp. 

The woman looked as if he had slapped her across the face and cursed her family. “Y-you’re married? But you don’t even have a wedding ring!” she spluttered, “If you have a wife then where is she everyday?” 

“I do have a ring. I just don’t wear it on my finger because I’m afraid of losing it,” he clarified, lightly tugging on the chain around his neck for emphasis, his ring clinking softly against the metal. “I’m happily married to my wife who cannot be here because she is hard at work providing for our family. Do not disrespect my wife or my marriage again or we will have a problem.”

After that the other moms kept their distance, choosing to admire Wakatoshi from afar. It did not, however, stop them from staring with envy on the rare occasion you came with him to pick up your child, glowering at you with an intensity that surely wished you would drop dead. Your husband paid them no mind and neither did you because at the end of the day, you’re the one he chose to marry and have a child with. They can all flirts and look as much as they want, but they’ll never have him like you do.

----

Fast forward to present day, Wakatoshi is seven years into his retirement at the age of thirty-eight and Hidetoshi is now six.

Your husband is an assistant coach part time for the men’s volleyball team at an up and coming university, the rest of his time divided between you and taking care of your son. Hidetoshi just started kindergarten, growing far too fast for your liking. He seems to have gotten a double dose of his father’s genes as he’s already several inches taller than his classmates, though you can tell by the way he smiles and the slope of his nose that he’s yours as well. He’s the perfect combination of both of you—he has Wakatoshi’s tenacity, work ethic, and confidence and your sense of humor, intelligence, and empathy. He continues to amaze you every single day and you nor your husband couldn’t imagine a boy more wonderful than him. 

These days your lives are a lot less busy than they were when your husband was still a pro, but sometimes it doesn’t feel that way. With all the playdates, school functions, and parent-teacher conferences combined with your own job, Wakatoshi’s games, and regular house chores, sometimes it feels like you’re right back where you were ten years ago. This time, however, you have your incredible husband and son helping you and you wouldn’t trade your life for anything, no matter how hectic it may be.

Today is Saturday, it’s the weekend, and you’re only awake because of the bright sunlight that’s streaming through your bedroom window and hitting you directly in the face. You rub the sleep out of your eyes with the back of your hand, yawning loudly as you stretch your tired limbs. As soon as you try to get out of bed Wakatoshi’s arm around your waist tightens, pulling you flush against his solid, muscular chest. 

“Don’t leave. Don’t need to be anywhere,” he mumbles into his pillow, voice even deeper and raspier with sleep. His legs entangle themselves with your own so you’re completely enveloped in the warm, comforting embrace of your husband.

“Need to start getting ready for the party,” you sigh drowsily, but make no efforts to remove yourself from his sleepy but surprisingly strong clutches.

“Not yet,” he says simply, and that’s when you realize when he’s doing. He’s slowly, lazily grinding his morning wood on the soft curve of your ass. You’re a little more awake now.

“Oh I see what this is about,” you chuckle, wiggling yourself against him teasingly. 

He groans quietly under his breath, but you can feel the sound rumble in his chest. “Want you,” he says, still groggy from just barely waking up. His fingers find the hem of your shirt and he slips them underneath it, trailing his digits lightly down your stomach, making you shiver.

“Little man will be up soon,” you halfheartedly protest, but you can feel the warmth pooling between your legs.

“He’s not up yet, we have time.” The movements of his hips become more insistent, more demanding and you have to stifle your mewls behind your hand. Wakatoshi easily maneuvers his hand into the waistband of your panties, making a satisfied hum when he discovers you’re already dripping for him.

You’re still resisting, though it’s weak and feeble. The list of all the preparations you have to make for the barbecue still manage to just barely cut through your sleepy arousal. “We have so much to d—ahh~” You try to sound firm, but it just comes out as a breathy moan when he begins rubbing your swollen clit. 

He uses his other hand to push up your shirt that’s actually his shirt, tracing small circles around your nipples with his rough fingertips. You try to push your hips into his hand in hopes to gain more friction, but his arms keep you locked in place. 

“No need to rush. Let’s just enjoy this,” he insists, but the finger massaging your bud gets faster, knowing just how to make you whine after all the time he’s had to learn your body. He pinches one of your nipples between two fingers and squeezes with just enough force to make you gasp.

His erection has gotten even harder at the sound of your mewls and whimpers, hot and achingly hard against your ass and your cunt clenches in anticipation. Your slick is dripping out of you in thick, syrupy strings that makes your thighs sticky, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

“Please Toshi, need you,” you beg, desperate for your husband to stuff you full just as he’s done so many times before.

Wakatoshi doesn’t respond, opting to push his pants and underwear down to his knees and you almost sigh in relief, just needing to satisfy the desire that’s threatening to burn you from the inside out. You’re so hot you feel like you’re burning and you throw the comforter off of you to try to escape the heat. He removes the hand that was in your panties, instead using it to rub his hard length along your slick folds. You’re keening and so so needy, gasping each time the head catches on the tight ring of muscle around your entrance. 

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he grits out, barely able to control himself.

Your breath is coming in short, uneven pants as you try to sink yourself down onto him. “I love you so much I...”

That’s the moment when he sheaths his entire cock inside you in a singular fluid movement. You let out a strangled moan, relishing in the familiar burning as you stretch to accommodate how thick he is.  Your pussy clamps down on him like a vice, molding perfectly around his length.

“It’s like you were made for me, made to take me,” Wakatoshi growls, sending another wave of arousal rippling through your body. He stays still for a moment, breathing deeply because he doesn’t want to cum and have this end so soon.

He starts moving his hips, thrusting slow and deep to reach the spongy spot inside you that makes you scream. The hand on your breast reaches around to grab your throat, stifling your moans into small, stuttering gasps. You whine each time he shoves himself deep inside you, his cock dragging deliciously against your spongy walls.

You stay like that for a while, bodies joined in the most intimate of ways as Wakatoshi moves his hips in leisurely, unhurried strokes. Your body is hot, sweaty, thrumming with the pleasure that’s so overwhelming all you can focus on is the intoxicating feeling of your husband’s cock deep inside you. The tightening in your core signals your impending orgasm, but each time you get close to the edge, it escapes your grasp over and over again. You need him to pound into you faster, harder. You need more.

“Toshi please, I-I need,” you manage to stammer out, but your words are stolen from your throat as he sharply thrusts as deep as he can, the tip of his cock smashing against your cervix with just the right amount of pressure. 

“Don’t worry. I know just what you need.”

Wakatoshi is fucking you with so much force that your eyes are rolling back in your head, and all you can hear is the wet slapping sound each time he’s sucked back into your wet heat. He’s close, you can tell by the breathy groans he’s making, but so are you. You clench and spasm around him, growing impossibly tighter and bringing both of you closer to climax. His merciless pounding of your insides just gets faster and rougher, and his other hand moves down to rub your clit in tight, fast circles. 

The pleasure that clouds your senses is overwhelming, just dancing on the edge between pleasure and pain and your body can’t take it anymore. Your vision goes white as you cum, cunt clamping down so hard Wakatoshi can barely move. You clamp a hand over your mouth to keep from screaming, your body shaking and trembling as you gush around him. The endless clenching of your muscles practically milks his orgasm out of him, a stifled groan leaving his lips as his thick, hot cum coats your insides. All you can do is moan softly in appreciation, too incoherent to say anything else. 

Your husband presses a kiss to your sweaty neck. “Are you okay?” he asks, taking in the sight of your limp, spent body. 

You haven’t caught your breath yet and your lips won’t form proper words, so you make the only noise you can, “Mmfmm.”

You whine as he slowly pulls out his softening length with an audible pop, sensitive cunt spasming at the slightest stimulation. He untangles himself from you and you want to reach out for him, but you’re too boneless to even attempt to do anything yet.

As Wakatoshi gets out of bed to get a warm washcloth, you hear the familiar sound of little footsteps making their way towards your room and you shoot up in bed, fully alert. You quickly pull the covers over your body, just in time for Hidetoshi to come bounding in.

“G’morning Mama! Where’s Daddy?” he wonders, his little head poking around the corner.

Your husband comes out of the bathroom, now fully dressed and washcloth in hand. “I’m right here, Hidetoshi.” The boy runs straight towards his father who picks him up effortlessly, swinging him around in the air as he squeals with delight. “Did you sleep well?”

Hide bobs his head enthusiastically, “Mhm! I had a dream I was a professional volleyball player just like you.” 

Your loud, exaggerated sigh draws both sets of olive eyes to you, but you train your gaze on your husband. “Have you been putting ideas in his head?”

Wakatoshi shakes his head no, but the child in his arms pipes up first, “Daddy has been showing me videos of his old matches from when he was with the Schwimmy Addles.” Your husband makes a noise of surprise, a guilty look on his face now that he’s been found out.

“You two are going to be my undoing, I swear,” you chuckle as you flop back into the fluffy pillows.

Hide squirms in his father’s arms, reaching out to you, but the man recognizes the warning look in your eyes and tightens his arms around him. “We should let Mama finish waking up first. Why don’t we go downstairs and make breakfast?” he asks, tickling his sides.

The boy shrieks with laughter and wriggles even harder in Wakatoshi’s arms. “F-fine Daddy! Stooop it!” Your husband stops his tickling and hoists your son over his shoulder, gently patting his back.

He passes the washcloth to Hide. “Why don’t you give this to your mama? Then we can go have something to eat.” 

Hide uses his little arms to hold the cloth out to you and you take it from him, nodding with gratitude. “Thank you sweetie, now go with your daddy.”

Your husband starts walking towards the door as a small, chubby hand waves bye to you and you blow kisses to them as they disappear into the hallway.

Using the washcloth, you clean the mess between your legs and muster the monumental effort it takes to get out of bed. You begrudgingly walk over to your dresser to put on clean pajamas and brush your hair so you’re presentable for a meal with your family. The sound of the fire alarm going off has you racing downstairs to the kitchen where Wakatoshi and your son should be.

As you slide into the kitchen and almost fall on the slippery hardwood in your haste, you realize your panic was for nothing. There’s a pan on the stove, grey smoke billowing out of it. Upon further inspection you discern that it’s eggs, you think, that are simultaneously under and overcooked. The guilty parties are sitting at the kitchen table a few feet away, a jug of milk and a couple of boxes of cereal surrounding them. Hide is shoveling spoonfuls of Cheerios into his mouth as your husband eats his own breakfast, only slightly neater in his approach.

“So… you tried to cook?” you ask, quirking an eyebrow at the large man chewing his Wheat Chex. He looks over at you and nods, mouth full with milk and cereal. “I’m guessing it didn’t go very well, judging by all the smoke,” you say slowly. Your husband simply shakes his head no, unbothered by the fact that he nearly gave you a heart attack.

Deciding it’s not worth the argument or the work to make a proper breakfast, you sit down next to Hide and pour yourself a bowl of Cheerios. He smiles at you, mouth open and full of disgusting half-chewed food, but you still return his beaming grin and ruffle his hair. The both of them are troublemakers in their own ways, but they’re your troublemakers nonetheless.

After you’ve all eaten breakfast, you lay a notepad in front of them that has a list of all the things you have to do before your guests arrive for the barbecue. 

You’re standing between them, pointing at each task on the list. “I still have to sweep and vacuum the house, Toshi you need to go to the store and buy all the food, and Hide you need to pick up all your toys that are in the backyard. We have a lot to do today and everyone has to do their part, okay?” you urge, looking between the males on either side of you and they both nod emphatically.

With everyone so busy, it’s difficult to find weekends where they’re all available so this get together has been planned for months. You’ll all be seeing friends and loved ones you haven’t seen in a long time, and it’s a team effort to make sure everything is ready for tonight. 

----

You finish all of the tasks on time, with an hour to spare thanks to your joint efforts. 

Hide is playing in his room while you and your husband get dressed and ready for what will likely be a long night of socializing and entertaining.

As you’re doing your makeup and getting ready for the party, you notice Wakatoshi staring at himself in the mirror, shirtless. His brows are furrowed, a deep frown on his face as he scrutinizes his reflection. He pinches his belly with both hands, scowling at the softness that used to be hard muscle. Tracing a finger along the stretch marks on his stomach and arms, he sighs heavily.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” you ask from the bathroom. 

Your husband walks over to lean against the wall behind you, his unreadable expression reflected in the bathroom mirror. He hesitates before answering, “I’ve let myself go.”

You set your mascara down on the counter and spin around to face him. “Wakatoshi, what in the world are you talking about?”

“I just said what. I heard a couple of my players say that I’m not as strong or as fast as I was when I was a professional.”

You loosely wrap your arms around his torso, squeezing gently. “Of course you’re not what you used to be, Toshi.” At the sight of his deepening frown you quickly add, “You’re so busy being a father, husband, and coach you don’t have the time to work out like you used to.” Getting on your tippy toes, you press a kiss to his nose, “And that’s okay.” It’s a rare occasion that he looks this vulnerable. His anxiety and self-consciousness are so clearly written in his features and it makes your heart ache for him. 

“It doesn’t bother you that I don’t look like that anymore?” he asks, pointing at the framed photo of his first win with the Japan National Team that hangs on the wall.

“Why would it bother me? This is the body races my son across our backyard, helps me fix our home we bought together, and makes love to me every night. I love you just as much as I did back then, and even more now that we have Hide,” you reassure him and you mean every word of it. Sure he’s not the most romantic of husbands, but he’s your husband and you love him just the way he is, with or without muscles.

A smile tugs at the corners of his lips and he squeezes you even tighter to him. “I know I probably don’t say this as much as I should, but I love you.”

You pepper kisses all over his eyelids, lips and nose. “And I love you more than anything, Wakatoshi. More than you will ever know.”

Your hands lovingly caress his chest that’s softer now, but still sturdy and muscular, and his arms that are not as lean anymore, but are still just as powerful and capable. “For the record, I love how soft you are these days. It’s great cushioning for when we cuddle.”

“Hidetoshi says the same thing,” he recalls, smiling at the thought of your beloved son.

After giving him a knowing look, you go back to putting on your makeup. “See? I told you. That boy is just as smart as his mother.”

It’s nearing five o’clock so Wakatoshi goes to the backyard to start grilling the food for everyone, while you and Hide finish plating the fruits and vegetables you prepared earlier.

You work in comfortable silence until your son turns to you, his eyes shining with unanswered questions. “Hey Mama?”

Putting down the strawberry you were holding, you sit down on the stool next to him and hold his hands in yours. “What’s on your mind, sweetie?”

“Do you not want me to be a volleyball player like Daddy? Is that why you got mad when I told you he showed me the videos?” 

You almost break your neck with how fast you shake your head in denial. “Of course not! I wasn’t mad, it’s just…” you start, trying to find a way to phrase your thoughts that he’ll understand. “Daddy’s job was very hard. His body still hurts a lot from all the times he got injured when he played volleyball. And… his job took him away from me and I missed him a whole lot.”

The look on his face is so reminiscent of his father, it’s like young Wakatoshi was frozen in time and plopped into the chair right next to you. With the way his eyebrows are scrunched up and his mouth is downturned as he thinks, he really is the spitting image of your husband. “Did it make you sad?”

Taking a deep breath, you hold your arms out to him so he can climb into your lap. “Sometimes it did. Mostly at night when I was all alone and Daddy was really far away.”

He rests his head against your shoulder, looking up at you. “Do you wish Daddy had a different job?”

You look out the window at your husband who’s starting up the grill, then look back at the sweet, round face of your boy. “No, I don’t. Daddy’s job was really important to him and it made him so happy that I grew to love it too, even if it made me sad sometimes.”

He sits up in your lap, thinking hard about what you said as he plays with your necklace. “Does Daddy still wish he could do it?”

“Probably, but it’s okay. If he hadn’t stopped, we wouldn’t have you, and you make our lives so much brighter and happier. Your Daddy and I love you so much, you couldn’t even imagine it.”

He spreads his arms out as far as he can. “This much?”

You shake your head. “Nope. Even more.”

“Wow, that’s a lot.” Hide’s eyes are wide with surprise, mouth slightly agape as he tries to imagine something so large and vast.

Laughing, you press a kiss to his head. “It sure is a lot, baby. Now why don’t we finish putting out all the food so we can go see what Daddy’s doing?”

Your son leaps out of your lap to grab handfuls of grapes and blueberries from the cartons on the counter, dropping them into the divided sections of the serving platter. “Aren’t you going to help me, Mama?”

You give him a look of mock offense before standing ramrod straight, giving him a mock salute. “As you command, Commander Ushijima.”

You carry both trays of food out to the backyard, not trusting Hide’s ability to hold them upright, while he carries a volleyball in his arms. Wakatoshi turns at the sound of footsteps, a small smile on his face as your son drops the volleyball, barreling straight into his legs with a force that makes the man grunt.

Hide looks up at his father, both arms wrapped around his legs. “Whatcha doing Daddy?” he asks.

Your husband reaches a hand down to ruffle his hair, a slight look of pain in his eyes from the boy slamming into his shins. “I’m just getting ready to start cooking the food for tonight. Do you want to help me?” He bends down to pick him up and Hide quickly hops into his arms, well practiced and effortless with how strong your husband is. The man points to different parts of the grill, explaining what they do, taking care to keep the boy far away from the flames. 

Setting the plates down on the table, you inform Wakatoshi, “Hajime and Tooru should be here soon, so should Tobio and Eita. Satori called and said he might be late, something about his luggage getting lost.” At that moment the doorbell rings, signaling your first guests are here. “I’ll get it. You two stay here and get the food on the grill.”

You open the front door, greeted with the familiar faces of Hajime and Tooru. “It’s so nice to see you two! Come on inside, don’t be shy,” stepping aside, you hold your arm out to welcome them into your home. 

“Mrs. Ushijima you get more and more beautiful each time I see you,” Tooru teases as you snicker in response.

“I see marriage hasn’t changed you at all, has it?” you question, more so directed at Hajime. 

“I tell him people are going to get the wrong idea,” the shorter man replies, sounding exasperated.

You usher them towards the backyard before picking up various soda and beer cans. “Wakatoshi and Hide are both in the back. You two go ahead and keep them company while I bring these out.”

It takes a few trips before you join them in the backyard, handing each adult a can and a juice pouch to Hide, who’s sitting at the picnic table with Tooru while Hajime chats with your husband. 

“How old are you now, little man?” the brunette asks.

Hide holds up five fingers plus his thumb as he swings his legs back and forth. “I’m six! I just started kindergarten.”

They both wave at you as you join them, sitting on the other side of the table. Tooru leans in towards you, a hand cupped around his mouth, and you tilt your ear towards him. “He’s so… polite and well-mannered. Are you sure Ushiwaka is the father?” he whispers, narrowing his eyes.

You lightly smack his head, glaring daggers in his direction. “Yes, obviously. Look at them, they’re basically twins.” Tooru looks at the boy sitting next to him then at your husband standing at the grill, then back to your son, then back to your husband. Hand on his chin, he takes in their matching olive eyes and hair and similar expressions, nodding seriously.

“I was just making sure.”

The doorbell rings a couple more times, Tobio and Eita arriving one right after the other. With almost all of your guests present, everyone is drinking and catching up, some casually passing a volleyball back and forth with Hide.

You’re in the middle of telling Tobio that Hidetoshi is too young to be thinking about his future career when the doorbell rings once more, indicating the last of your guests has arrived. You rush inside to get it, not bothering to check who’s there because you already know who it is. Swinging the door open, you pull the man into a tight hug. 

“Satori! We’re so glad you made it,” you exclaim, giving his back a few hard slaps.

The redhead pulls away from you, smiling. “I’m so glad I was able to make it in time. The airport lost my luggage, then my parents forgot to leave me a key to their house so I had to wait until a neighbor could let me in. To make matters worse, I got stopped by security when I landed because of this,” he says, holding up a white box with a bow around it.

You quickly grab the box, shaking it to try to hear what’s inside and sniffing it for good measure. “Ooh la la, did you bring us some fancy French chocolates?” you ask. “Actually, don’t tell me, Hide will want to open it.” You hand the box back to him and gesture him to follow you, “Everyone’s in the back so just follow me.”

With Satori in tow, you step onto the back porch and call your son’s name. He hands the ball to Eita before running over, eyes lighting up when he sees the man standing next to you.

“Uncle Tori!” he shouts, launching himself into Satori’s arms.

“Hey there Little Toshi, how you been? Keeping your dad out of trouble?” he asks, hugging the boy tightly.

“I think so! Well… we burnt some eggs this morning and the smoke machines started beeping, but that doesn’t count, right?”

The red-haired man waves his hand dismissively. “Of course it doesn’t. Any crimes committed in the name of breakfast are excused,” he insists. Pulling the box out from behind his back, he offers it to Hide. “I brought you something all the way from France, do you know where France is?”

Hide takes the present from him, “Yeah, it’s in Europe! Daddy showed it to me on a map.” He struggles a bit with the bow before he decides to just rip it off, lifting up the lid.

Satori points to the various chocolates laid on top of wax paper. “This one is filled with something called ‘ganache,’ which is basically just more chocolate, but it’s liquidy. That one over there has caramel, and the one right next to it is a bonbon filled with strawberry jelly. I picked all the best ones just for you.”

The boy smiles, eyes wandering over the chocolates like they’re bars of gold. “Thank you Uncle Tori! I bet they’re really yummy.”

He pats Hide on the head. “I hope you enjoy them lots. Now I gotta go say hi to your daddy, where is he?” Your son points to where Wakatoshi is standing at the grill, a spatula in one hand and a beer in the other as he chats with Tobio. “Thanks Little Toshi,” he says, ruffling his hair.

Satori walks over to your husband, pulling him into a crushing bear hug before he can say anything. “Wakatoshi, it’s been too long! I sure get lonely all the way in France, have you guys ever thought about moving?”

Wakatoshi freezes for a moment before giving in, hugging the man back, though slightly stiff in his movements. “We will not be moving to France. Hidetoshi will be raised here in Japan.”

The redhead releases him, sensing his discomfort. “Well, it was worth a shot. How’s your retirement? You miss being a pro?”

“I do miss it sometimes, but it was necessary to let a better, younger player take my place. I wouldn’t trade a few more years on the court for the life I have now with my wife and my son.” 

 Satori lets out a loud whistle. “I never thought I would hear the day that Wakatoshi Ushijima would say he cares about anything more than volleyball.”

“Volleyball was my entire life before, but they’re my entire world.”

The shorter man just smiles, silent for a moment before pointing to the apron your husband is wearing. “I didn’t think you’d actually wear that thing, Wakatoshi!” The apron black with bright red lettering that says ‘Wakatoshi: Grill Master,’ with a drawing of a flaming steak next to it.

“It keeps my clothes clean. Why wouldn’t I wear it?” he asks, genuinely curious. The redhead just laughs and shakes his head, patting him on the shoulder.

Your husband finishes grilling the food, much to the excitement and relief of the many hungry men who have been circling him like a hawk. Everyone takes from the piles of meat and vegetables, noticeably happier now that their stomachs are full. You’re all sitting around the picnic table, laughing and enjoying each other’s company.

Hajime recalls a story from when he first signed on as the athletic trainer for the national team. Wakatoshi had approached him after practice, saying he had a serious issue that he wanted someone to take a look at. Concerned for his player’s wellbeing, naturally he took him into the locker room and Wakatoshi took off his shirt. At first, he thought he might’ve stretched one of his ligaments too far or had even torn his rotator cuff muscle. Imagine his surprise when Wakatoshi pointed to an ingrown hair on his back, saying it was inflamed and causing him pain. It was then that Hajime had to explain that he’s not that type of medical professional, and that he should make an appointment with a dermatologist.

 The sun starts to set, but with the fun everyone is having they barely notice. The night begins to wind down once Hide yawns, rubbing his eyes tiredly, and it sets off a chain reaction of yawning that reaches every person at the table. Your son starts tugging on your sleeve, informing you he’d like to go to bed. Not wanting to leave him alone in the house and taking note of the exhaustion on everyone’s faces, you politely suggest to end the night early. A chorus of heads bob, indicating their desire to head home and sleep. 

All three of you hug and kiss everyone goodbye, waving to them as they drive away. You sigh from exhaustion and head inside to put Hide in bed. You and your husband hold each of his hands and take him to his room, pulling back his covers so he can climb in. 

He yawns again and closes his eyes, settling into his bed. “Night night Mama, Daddy. I love you.” 

You stroke his cheek lovingly before placing a kiss on his forehead. “Goodnight sweetie, I love you too.”

Your husband comes up from behind you to kiss Hide as well. “Sleep well, Hidetoshi. I love you.”

With your son asleep in his own bed, all you have to do is take off your makeup and brush your teeth before you too can sleep. 

You’re in the middle of washing your face when Wakatoshi comes into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

“I enjoyed tonight, I hope you did too,” he says.

You turn around to look at him and smile. “I did, it was amazing to see everyone in one place. It’s been years since we were all able to see each other.” After you finish washing your face, you stretch and yawn loudly, telling your husband, “I’m getting in bed now, join me when you’re done.”

Climbing under the sheets, you nestle yourself into the softness of your bed. You nearly doze off right then, but the shifting of the bed under Wakatoshi’s weight keeps you awake just a bit longer.

He slides in behind you so he can spoon you, an arm slung over your waist. 

“Goodnight Toshi, I love you.”

“Goodnight, I love you too.”

Before he falls asleep, Wakatoshi thinks of all the things in his life that led him here, to you, his wonderful wife, and his precious son.

Leaving professional volleyball was one of the hardest decisions he’s ever had to make in his thirty-seven years of living, but the end of that chapter of his life gave him Hidetoshi.

He knows that every moment of uncertainty, suffering, and hardship was worth it because it ultimately led him to you and your son, to this life you’ve built together. 

He’d do it all over again a thousand times over if it meant that your beautiful, shining face would be there to greet him in the end.

#ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima x reader #ushijima x you #hq smut #hq fanfic #reader insert #hq reader insert #hq imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #ushijima smut #bunny scribbles

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Flash of Mauve, Splash of Puce // Colin Bridgerton

Request: Hi Millie!! Could I request a Colin Bridgerton comfort fic, in which the reader gets anxious about their grand first soirée as newlyweds? 🧡 - @gryffindors-weasley

A/N: Oh Sophie, I do adore this request. Thank you so much for requesting! I hope I have done it justice! This does get a little steamy towards the end so I apologise if that makes anyone uncomfortable or if it offends anyone (that wasn't my intention). Title: The Phantom of the Opera - Masquerade.

Pairing: Colin Bridgerton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: use of female pronouns, use of the word ‘wife’, masquerade balls, lots of fluff and comfort, anxiousness, worries, panic, ballroom dancing, mentions of alcohol. THIS GOT ACCIDENTALLY STEAMY AND THEN FADES TO BLACK, I AM APOLOGISING NOW.

Word count: 3.2k

The annual masquerade ball held exclusively at Bridgerton House was not an event to be missed. Anyone who was anyone in London society was invited; it was a night in which alliances were forged, relationships bloomed, and wit tested to its very brink.

There was no better hostess than that of Violet Bridgerton; her astute eye caught every imperfection, fixing it within a matter of moments. Having held this ball for close to thirty years, she knew exactly how to play the crowd to achieve the perfect reaction.

This meant that her family had to be punctual; they had no excuse for lateness no matter how early into a marriage they find themselves. Violet Bridgerton rarely demanded anything of her children; happy for them to find their own way in life with only little interference on her behalf, but she would absolutely not accept her beloved children being late to their own mother’s ball when they have been guests at the event for all of their lives.

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

The rings sit happily on your left hand. At the right angle, they shimmer in the light of the room, bringing a small smile to your face even as you release a shaky breath. Your gown of gold hugs your figure, cut in the same style as your wedding dress. The skirts flare out in a manner that you know would be spectacular when spun around the dancefloor.

Nerves were beginning to make themselves known; in the shaking of your hands, the turning of your stomach and the wateriness of your smile. Tonight would be your first event with Colin as your husband. How many balls had he courted you at? Four? Five? Too many to count yet tonight was something else entirely; a new level to your life that felt as if it was going to be inspected at every turn.

Pinching your cheeks, you try to bring some colour to your face, hoping it would do something to bring some life into your worried expression.

The door to your bedroom opens with a small click. In the mirror, you spy the muscular figure of the man you had pledged your forever to. Colin shuts the door to your room; leaning back against it with a satisfied smile.

“Are you going to stand there all night?” You ask, trying to keep the hope out of your voice. You’d give anything to stop the growing worry turning your gut to lead, even if that meant trapping yourself in your room all night.

Colin remains silent, his blue eyes growing darker as his gaze runs over the way your dress hangs from your body. The tightened waist pushing your breasts higher on your chest; he lets his stare linger there for a moment before meeting your eyes in the mirror and smiling wickedly.

You roll your eyes, returning your focus to ridding yourself of the worry plaguing you. Logically you knew that tonight was going to be a wonderful evening; spending time with your family and dancing with your new husband. Yet, you couldn’t help but panic over the myriad of eyes watching your every move, waiting for you to mess up in some shape or form so it can become the juicy material whispered around high tea in the week after the ball.

Without a word, Colin pushes himself off the door, strolling leisurely to where you stand before the large mirror. “You look exquisite,” Colin murmurs, trailing feather light kisses along your shoulder to the base of your neck. You tilt your head, giving your insatiable husband easier access to the skin he had spent most of the honeymoon marking with his lips.

He shifts your hair to one side, dropping a slow kiss to the nape of your neck before whispering against your skin, “If I wasn’t so terrified of my mother’s wrath, I would have removed this dress by now.”

Laughter leaves your lips, but it doesn’t sound right. It sounds strangled; too much emotion clogging up your throat, making it hard for the laughter to sound genuine. If you had it your way, Colin would be removing your dress, kissing you on whatever piece of skin a button reveals.

“Darling,” Colin whispers, gently commanding, “Look at me.”

Turning to face him, you can just about make out his brunette hair. The rest of his face is blurred with tears that threaten to fall with the ever growing need to blink. His hands are gentle as he clasps your face; thumbs stroking your cheekbones in a comforting manner.

“If you can, tell me what the matter is.”

Releasing a deep breath, your hands shake slightly as you whisper, “There are so many people coming tonight.”

“It’s the largest ball of the season…” Colin admits. “You know my mother,” He offers apologetically.

“They’re going to be watching us. Watching me, checking for signs…”

“For signs of what?”

“That the marriage is prosperous,” You stutter, uncomfortable with the idea of so many eyes on you so soon after your wedding.

Colin frowns; hands slipping from your face to your shoulders where he rubs soothing circles into the bare skin. Your eyes slip closed from the simple touch; skin heating at the feel of your husband’s hands.

“Think of it as no different from any other ball you have been to,” His hands drop to your waist, pulling you to him, “I am going to be here the entire time.”

You hide your face in his chest, your arms coming up to hold him. “I hate the speculation.”

“I do too,” Colin mutters. “I’d like to live my life without constant comment from the ton but it’s part and parcel of being a Bridgerton.”

You sigh, keeping your face hidden in his chest, relishing the way his hands run up and down your back. “It’s our first big outing as a newly married couple,” You state smally, “I’m scared.”

“Can I tell you a secret?” Colin asks, a smile gracing his face.

“What?”

“I’m scared too.”

“You are?” You gasp, your eyes running over his face, trying to find a hint of the fear and worry you feel.

He nods. “But I have you by my side all night so I know I can face it.”

“You have me,” You state firmly. “Do I have you?”

“You have me,” He promises, “Now and forever.”

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

The gossips of the London ton could never deny one thing: Violet Bridgerton always outdid herself. She always managed to keep the theme of the night current and the decorations spellbinding.

This year’s theme for the annual Bridgerton Ball was the sun and the stars tied in with the masquerade that Violet so adores.

Your golden gown shimmers under the light of the room; catching sight of the youngest Bridgertons – Gregory and Hyacinth – arguing over something impossible to decipher. Colin remains a steady presence by your side, leading you through the room, smiling and nodding at the many people.

Freezing in place, your breath catches in your throat as you take in the sheer amount of people. The Bridgerton family were adored by all; it made sense for this many people to show when beckoned by its matriarch. Still, seeing it from a new perspective had your fear returning full force.

Colin’s warm hand settles on the small of your back, coaxing you out of your stupor. “You’re doing wonderfully,” He murmurs, “You’re the most beautiful woman in the room.”

“You’re saying that because I’m your wife,” You tease breathlessly, fear freezing your veins.

Colin shakes his head in fake exasperation. “Even if we weren’t married, my love, I would still think you the most beautiful.”

“I love you,” You respond, voice loud enough for only Colin to hear. He ducks his head at your words; still not used to hearing them leave your lips despite the rings sitting on your finger. “I love you too,” He answers, reaching for your hand and bringing it up to his lips.

He looks pained as he catches the eye of someone across the room. “Anthony is beckoning me,” Colin states, turning his attention from his brother back to you.

“Go,” You urge.

“I don’t want to leave you when you’re this upset.”

“Colin,” You whisper, briefly touching his cheek, “He’s your brother; go to him, see what he needs and then return to me when you can. I’m sure I can find someone to talk to, I think I saw Eloise and your mother a few moments ago.”

“Are you sure?” He asks, blue eyes running over your face.

“I’m sure. Anthony wouldn’t ask for you if it wasn’t important.”

Colin ducks his head; pressing a lingering kiss to your cheek then another to the corner of your mouth. Quietly, so only you can hear, he whispers, “I love you more than life itself.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” You say with a playful shove to his shoulder. Standing on your tiptoes, you press a kiss to his cheek. “I love you too. Now go before Anthony throws a tantrum.”

Colin leaves you with a wide smile and a bow. Shaking your head fondly, you think of your husband as you take a turn of the room, looking for a Bridgerton to talk to. Metallics fill the expansive room; silver and gold flashing on dresses as they’re spun across the floor. Dark blues and purples dotted about as conversations and laughter perfume the air, bringing with it a lighter atmosphere that has you wondering what your initial fears were about.

“Mrs. Bridgerton!” An all-too familiar voice calls.

Turning on instinct, you find yourself face to face with Miss Whittaker. She had come out with you in the same year; she had received a number of proposals – all from well to do gentleman but none were good enough for her. She knew her worth which was admirable, but the way she belittled those she called her friends made it hard to find her truly likeable. A month into your season, you chose to stay well away. You hadn’t looked back since.

“How are you, darling?” Miss Whittaker titters; her acute gaze taking in every aspect of your outfit – down to the very last stitch in your dresses hem.

“I’m very well, thank you. How are you?”

“Delightful, darling. Delightful.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” You answer as earnestly as you can, eyes dancing around the room in the hopes of finding Colin free from Anthony’s clutches.

“Has he already disappeared?” She asks, voice laced with something akin to venom.

“Has who already disappeared?” You ask; face the picture of innocence despite the anger laced with worry settling deep in your veins.

“Why Colin, of course!” She laughs, “I never thought him serious enough for marriage.”

You step back, your mouth falling open in shock as her barbed words poison the very air around you. The familiar burn of tears starts in the back of your eyes, but you push them away; refusing to let the odious woman see how she affects you.

“That’s an awful thing to say,” You whisper, feelings hurt on behalf of your beloved husband.

Miss Whittaker simply shrugs; her voice bored as she utters, “It’s simply the truth.”

“I would hope that the truth you are admitting is one with reliable sources,” Colin’s voice sounds from behind you; his voice stern as he fixes his stare on Miss Whittaker.

Colour blooms high on Miss Whittaker’s cheeks; anger flushing her complexion. Without another word, she flicks open her fan before stalking away from the two of you.

“Are you alright?” Colin asks when Miss Whittaker is a safe distance away, his voice concerned.

“She always was a piece of work,” You comment; keeping your tone light when all you wanted to do was return home.

“You’re not hurt though? You’re sure you’re alright?”

“I’m fine, my love,” You state, bringing a gloved hand up to brush his cheek, “Only shocked and hurt at her words.”

Colin frowns, but it doesn’t remain on his face long when you poke at the expression, uncaring whether the whole ballroom was watching you in this exact moment. “I don’t like it when you frown,” You state, poking his cheek one last time.

Colin catches your hand in his, kissing each individual finger before kissing the back of it. “And I don’t like it when you’re upset or when someone upsets you.”

“I guess we’re even then,” You sigh, your now tangled hands dangling at your side.

Colin rolls his eyes, smiling widely at you. The band falls silent to which Colin gets an idea; his mother had told him the order of the dances which he memorised, so he knew which ones to dance with you. He loved nothing more than holding you in his arms; feeling your body pressed against his, noting every rise and fall of your chest.

Clasping your hand tightly in his, Colin begins to lead you the dancefloor. “What are you doing?” You ask, sounding panicked as Colin leads you to the dance floor.

“Dancing with my wife,” Colin states bluntly, settling in front of you with an open hand.

“It is not customary for the husband to dance a waltz with his wife.”

Colin smirks; the picture of nonchalance as he lifts his shoulders in a shrug. “I am not one for custom when my wife looks as stunning as you do right now.”

The music soon begins, and you are swept away in a symphony of rises and falls and the intoxicating presence of your husband. Colin holds your gaze through the dance; his eyes searching yours for any hint of panic and upset. His face relaxes into a breathtaking smile when he finds you happy in your current state; held by your husband in a sea of dancers.

Those that find themselves without a partner stand on the side of the floor, whispering behind their fans of the impropriety being shown here tonight. However, among the many are the few that watch Colin and you twirl across the floor. They take note of how gently he holds your hand, how steadily his hand rests on your lower back and how smitten he looks as he smiles down at you.

In years to come, this dance would still be a topic of conversation amongst London’s gossips but even the gossips could no longer deny the true love exemplified by the both of you.

The orchestra falls silent as the dance comes to an end. Light applause breaks out across the room as your chest rises and falls with the exhaustion that accompanies such a dance. Colin smiles at you, leaving you even more breathless as you step away from far enough for him to still keep a grip on your waist.

“Are you ready to go?” Colin asks, eyes holding the promise of something far more fun than countless dances with the love of your life.

“Take me home, Colin.”

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

Colin dismisses the maids and his valet as soon as you walk through the door to your home. When your maids protest, worried about how you would get out of your dress, Colin states quite clearly for the staff that he would be the one to help you with the buttons, laces, stays and whatever else he may come across.

Your maids flush deeply, and you send them an apologetic smile as your husband leads you up the stairs to your shared bedroom.

Any and all worries are forgotten the moment Colin presses his lips to yours, walking you backwards to the bed. Laughter spills from your lips as Colin continues his trail of kisses, beginning at the corner of your mouth before travelling down the expanse of your neck to the top of your breasts, peeking out from the top of your dress. Your breath hitches when Colin kisses a particularly sensitive spot; a low groan follows when he latches onto that area, kissing a love bite there.

As your breath deepens; as your eyes follow Colin’s path of kisses down your chest, he suddenly stops. With a devilish smile, he taps your side, “I think this is getting in our way, don’t you?”

Wordlessly, you nod. Colin’s smile grows larger as his arms wind around your back, finding the buttons to your dress. He undoes them with expert precision, barely interrupting the way in which he captures your lips once more. Sighing happily against his mouth, you note that he tastes of the champagne he had enjoyed before your final dance of the evening; if you focused, you could feel the bubbles of the drink on your own tongue.

You can’t focus, however. Colin’s undone your dress, letting the gold slip from your body as if it were molten liquid. He stands back; loving the way you chase him for further contact. He stands back to get full sight of you before him; standing like a goddess before a mere mortal man. Colin is ready to worship on his knees to be worthy of a woman such as you. He doesn’t deserve you; despite your arguments, you’re too good for him but he would be damned if another man got to see you like this. Skin flushed, chest heaving with anticipation. No – this was a sight purely for him.

His attention turns to your corset, bringing you to him, his nimble fingers begin to work on the criss-cross of laces. With every lace undone, Colin presses a kiss to your bare skin, enjoying the way it heats under his touch. You hum contentedly with every kiss; your fingers running across the broad plains of Colin’s shoulders, squeezing whenever he find a sensitive spot.

The corset is torn from your body; leaving you before him without an ounce of shame. He loves you so wholly that you can’t find it in yourself to hide from him.

Colin’s famously blue eyes do not leave yours as he reaches up, tugging loose the cravat wrapping around his neck. In no time at all, your husband is shirtless, and reaching for you like a starved man would reach for food.

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

Your dress is hung. Your nightdress hugging your body softly as you slip under the covers of your marriage bed waiting for the love of your life to join you. Colin tugs on a pair of light cotton trousers he had bought on your honeymoon not even two months ago before joining you in bed.

Rolling onto your side, you rest your head on Colin’s bare shoulder, feeling the rise and fall of his chest with your hand.

“You were a marvel tonight,” Colin whispers into the dark room; his voice giving away his tiredness.

“I had you there to help,” You confess, feeling your eyelids grow heavier as Colin’s arm tightens around you.

“And I’ll always be there,” are his last words before sleep sweeps Colin into its land of dreams. Turning your face, you let your eyes slip closed as you press one, two, three kisses to Colin’s shoulder, enjoying the sleepy hum that falls from his lips and the squeeze of his hand on your waist.

Sleep soon claims you, bringing you to your own land of dreams. Your final thought of the night relating to the man holding you so gently in his arms, feeling his love for you emanating from his body, knowing happily that you return it just as earnestly.

******

Bridgerton Taglist: @heloisedaphnebrightmore @dreaming-about-fanfictions @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown @janelongxox​ @aspiringsloth20​ @wallwriterstuff​ @magicalxdaydream​ @darkestbeforethedawn16​ @gryffindors-weasley​ @spideysz​ 

Taglists are open! Drop me an ask if you would like to be added!

#colin bridgerton x reader #colin bridgerton #colin x reader #colin bridgerton imagine #colin bridgerton imagines #Bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton fanfic #bridgerton imagines

[cheekygreenty]

Little Witch- Part 11

The Darkling x Reader

I’m backkkkkkkkk besties 🥰🥰

The rest of the day was spent doused in the work the Darkling had given you earlier, so the time you would have spent otherwise mulling over his plans for the stag had to be pushed out of the way.

You had plenty of time left until the evening's dinner, where you would be formally announced as Deputy General to the Grisha of the Little Palace. You had already signed off on official letters to the camp commanders and First-Army leaders stating your position, but you doubted there would be any fuss from them.

Your own Grisha is who you had to be worried about. They didn't do well with change. Especially not when it came to a mysterious all-powerful Grisha coming and taking control of an army they'd never seen them be a part of before.

Nonetheless, this was happening whether they wanted it or not. Ravka needed to present a united front and adding another person to strengthen said front was essential. All you hoped for was a peaceful transition, no blood-baths. To hell if they whispered or rumored, you could handle that, you've been handling it.

You had a list of ever-changing priorities in your head, and on top of it was always Alina. You cared for your Grisha, no matter how much they hated you or how much you disliked them, and Alina wasn't any exception. You felt a pang of guilt flow through you at the thought of Aleksander using her against her better conscience but you shoved it away quickly. There was nothing you could do but talk to him and question him about the plan.

The plan. The stupid plan. You called it stupid because you didn't know anything about it and against your better judgment, it made you doubt his trust. Was it so bad, so cruel, that he couldn't tell me? Before you came to the Little Palace, you told yourself you wouldn't blindly trust anybody anymore. Aleksander had to be held to that standard too.

Your door was left slightly ajar, you were sick of the knocking at this point so when you heard a feminine voice call out your name you looked up instantly, ready to be hit with more reports.

'Ms.Y/L/N? I have been sent by the General to see if you wish to use any of my help' The red-haired Grisha looked at you with her bright blue eyes. Her white kefta pressed to perfection.

'You must be Genya' You stood up and welcomed her in.

'Sorry about the room, as you can see I don't have a proper desk yet' you laughed and watched her closely as she studied you. 'What do you do exactly? It's been years since I heard of a tailor and I've never had the pleasure to meet one.'

You noticed a look of surprise at your black kefta. If she had any questions, she most certainly didn't feel comfortable asking, he probably told her not to ask.

'I do all sorts of things, change the color of your hair, get rid of pesky scars, anything you don't like about yourself really..... well except your character, there's nothing anyone can do about that' She waved off and sat you down at your vanity, carefully pushing papers to one side.

'So? How about it?' She looked at you through the mirror and you pondered.

'Maybe the eye bags need to go?'

She nodded deeply, 'Definitely' you couldn't help but feel a little offended, but mostly amused.

'What do you propose then, Genya?'

'Hmmm, the eyebags for sure, put some color on your cheeks,-' She combed her hands through your hair and bit the inside of her cheek '-the hair needs something too, perhaps some shine?'

'Perhaps' You mused.

'I shall get to work then' she smiled.

****

After your pampering session with Genya and prying her open (more like soothing her) to talking about life at the Palaces and her life, you came to the conclusion that you would die for her. She was so kind and strong, no wonder she and Alina were always seen together, they were two peas in a pod. Her humor and wittiness, like yours, was refreshing, a breath of fresh air in the stiff and formal palace.

You didn't bother changing. The truth was you were tired already and a full day hadn't even passed of your new job. How did I do this for so many years? But still, you managed to put on your bravest smile and walk in the domed hall with your head held high and your black kefta on a show like a trophy.

Unlike the other time you and Aleksander dined together here, he was already sitting in his chair. Ivan was standing, ready to announce any war news and casualties. You could see Alina looking at you with a confused look on her face, but she still gave you a welcoming smile.

You sat down and cleared your throat in the deafening silence. Ivan began to speak but you heard none of it. Your head too full with thoughts on how this situation could go. You felt Aleksander move his hand to your thigh in a calming manner. You looked over to him and shot him a tight smile, before looking back to Ivan who was sitting down. Here goes nothing.

You stood up with Aleksander. The Grisha in the room couldn't understand what was going on, who was that person, wearing black nonetheless, sitting at the right side of the Darkling, on her own custom chair. The list of anomalies was never-ending.

He spoke first 'Today is a monumental day for the Second-Army, for all Grisha, for Ravka. Y/N Y/L/N has returned to the Little Palace and will be reprising her role of Deputy General, Second in Command of the Second Army.'

Nobody spoke but if looks could kill, I would be halfway into my grave by now.

'Ms. Y/L/N will play an essential part in our fight for freedom and justice. She is an outstanding leader, sometimes even better than I am, for she leads with compassion and understanding for all. She deserves nothing but the utmost respect and loyalty. If you for one second doubt her abilities, you might as well put cuffs around your own wrists, for disrespecting her is disrespect for me. I put my full faith in her.'

He turns to you and sits down, giving you all the attention.

'None of you will remember my reign as Deputy General, but I assure you I know what I am doing. The Little Palace and your lives are of most importance to me. I am here to protect and care for you, yes I will be giving commands, but rest be assured they are in your best interest.'

'I don't represent one order of Grisha, I represent and unite all of you-' You look towards the Etherialki '-I can summon the strongest of gales and light the Palace's fires-'

You turn your head toward the Materialki '-I can bend any metal, bleed fabric of its color-'

Your eyes meet Fedyor's '-I can soothe a heart and crush every bone in a body-'

You stand straighter '- and I can summon the shadows, call the darkness. With me at your side, I will make the Grisha kind loved once again, we will not be hunted or enslaved. Ravka's borders will be peaceful. I am putting my trust into each and every single one of you to help me achieve our utopia'

You sit back down and only then do you notice your shaking hands. You don't dare look up out of fear but a calming hand on your back almost forces you to. And you're glad because almost every Grisha in the room is looking, no, worshipping you. Their eyes glazed over and their mouths open in shock. Even Zoya looked astounded.

He leans in to whisper in your ear 'I'm so proud of you'

*****

You ate amongst the other Grisha that night, feeling a sense of belonging and confidence pulsing through you. It went down way better than you'd expected. Nobody threw a fit or tried your life. And you were happy. The sleep you had that night was the best you'd had in years.

The next morning, and the morning after that, was taken up entirely by work. Aleksander went away and so you were left with the runt of the jobs. But you had made yourself extremely comfortable in his quarters. At first, you only came to make use of the war room, then you sat at his desk to drink your tea and concentrate on work, and ultimately fell asleep in his bed, enclosed by his scent and those forgiving black sheets.

There was so much work to do and only so many hours in the day, and Aleksander decided to make life that much harder by renewing the search for Morozova's stag. You couldn't keep up.

You were waiting on a certain somebody. You had instructed the oprichniki to bring her here right after she was done with Baghra, no later. And so you stood there, inspecting the war table when a gentle knock echoed throughout the room.

'Come in'

'Deputy General' She addressed you with a curt nod.

'Please Alina, call me Y/N' you looked at her from your place at the table, hands resting on the map. She looked slightly uncomfortable but way less scrawny than when you'd first seen her. Her hair was filler and her skin glowed. She looked healthy now. Aleksander must see this too.

'I can see using your powers has affected you in more ways than one.'

'Oh-yes umm.. my appetite's grown so much since I got here it's rather funny' She was growing more comfortable.

'That's completely normal if you're using your powers more often' You smiled and walked around to her. 'I thought we could have a cup of tea or two, and you could tell me all about yourself Alina, and the things that are troubling you. I don't want you to feel like you're all alone in this place.'

'Dep- Y/N I assure you I am most certainly fine. There’s no need t-’

'I was once like you… and I can sense a troubled soul with my eyes closed.'

She stared at you with her defensive walls up, not letting any emotion slip though the cracks behind her eyes.

‘Alina… I mean you no harm. I’m just worried. Isn’t it nice to have someone worry for Alina and not the sun-summoner for a change?’ You cracked a sad smile and walked over to the tea the servants had brought.

‘Sugar?’

Part 12

Taglist (tell me if u want to be added!!)

@theonelittleone @searching-for-gallifrey @0-artemis @lostysworld @xceafh @fire-in-her-veinz @patdsinner33 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @wizardwheezes @aleksanderwh0r3 @tomhollandisabae @hotleaf-juice @justmesadgirl @exo-1204 @houseofdupree @oberonpascal @eireduchess

#shadow and bone #grisha #imagine #the darkling #the darkling x reader #alexander #alexander morozova #fanfic #alina starkov #ben barnes #black general #black heretic #general kirigan x reader #general kirigan #kefta #shadow summoner #little palace #one shots #keftas #one shot #series

[smoochkooks]

—lost stars, part 2 (m.)

⟶ pairing: jeon jungkook/reader

⟶ genre: smut, angst, bits of fluff, (troubled) idol au, childhood friends to lovers

⟶ word count: 20k

⟶ summary: in dead hours of the night he stumbles upon the bars, reaching, searching, trying to feel something, for once forget about consequences and taste the bittersweet freedom. between sips of addiction and faint touches of nameless lovers he finds you again: his own long-lost star on a blackboard sky.

⟶ warnings: explicit sexual content, soft dom!jk but also bit possessive!jk, sub!reader, oral (f receiving), praise kink, jk calling oc his pretty girl, unprotected sex (stay safe kiddos!), creampie, implicit car sex, mentions of infidelity, smoking, both oc and jk are emotional mess sometimes.

✔ read part one here!

a/n: i’m sorry i keep you waiting for so long but it’s finally here. as i promised, by the end of october. this story has a really special place in my heart, i’ve had it in my drafts for over a year now. i hope you’ll enjoy it!

Twenty-two. No, twenty-three. Or maybe it was actually twenty-two? Jungkook starts counting again.  

Various, different certificates are aligned on the wall in front of him, every single one dedicated to the same man, sitting across the table with crossed arms and stern expression. It’s rather obvious his ego reaches far beyond the printed sheets of paper with his name written in swirly fonts. They are here just to make an impression, to fool people into believing that the pastel blue shirt he’s wearing and expensive watch on his wrist are the outcome of his hard work.  

He opens his mouth to say something, but it doesn’t reach Jungkook’s ears. He starts counting again; this time the number of letters on the first certificate.

“What do you suggest we should do then?”

The man whose achievements in marketing and public relations Jungkook currently attentively analyzes, is Lee Ilsug, or at least that’s what those diplomas indicate. To be honest, Jungkook couldn’t care less about his name or the list of accomplishments that made him be employed here.

He’s new in the company, that’s certain. Jungkook didn’t have to deal with him before but Yoongi had the unpleasantness though, when he needed to deny the rumours going all around the Twitter about his slightly too close friendship with a female singer he had collaborated with.  

Quoting Yoongi, Ilsung was pain in the ass. 

“The photo is blurry. It’s debatable whether it’s Jungkook-ssi or not.” Another voice, this time female, cuts in. Jungkook remembers her face fleetingly from some PR meeting he had attended before. It looks like she’s now Ilsung’s assistant. “I checked SNS. Fans are on Jungkook’s side, they don’t believe what that girl had written, which is a good situation for us to interfere and release a statement.”

“What do you think, Jungkook?”

It’s Sejin. He was the one who contacted Jungkook about the ruckus in the company that has been going on since morning. The case is simple: on the day he did his walk of shame out of your apartment, he stopped to light up a cigarette that happened to be another one of his cardinal mistakes he’s made in span of 24 hours. What started with getting the temptation and alcohol got better of him and sleeping with you, ended with someone taking a picture of him while smoking.

It’s truly a miracle the photo’s quality is moderately vague. His mom always tells him he was born under the lucky star but for Jungkook it’s more like fate was playing hide and seek with him. This time, he managed to blend into the shadows in time.

Ilsung clicks his tongue. It’s not a secret he hates his job yet cherishes the money he earns. He pushes his thick-rimmed glasses up his nose and leans over the table. He’s close enough for Jungkook to notice the fresh cut from shaving on his cheek and a small, golden cross hanging on his neck. 

He raises his brow, eyes trained on Jungkook. Cold, emotionless. Clearly, his ambitions don’t end on dealing with some idol’s reckless shenanigans. “Well? What’s on your mind, Jungkook-ssi? We are ready to release the statement denying rumours about the incident in an hour.”

Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek. “But that will be a lie then. I did smoke, it’s me on that picture.”

Next to him, he hears Sejin clearing his throat uncomfortably. “Jungkook, I know it’s unfair but we can’t let it affect yours or boys’ reputations right now. We are a month before the comeback.” he says and no matter how much he tries to make it sound neutral, pulling the ‘what about the rest of the members?’ card is usually the last straw to bend Jungkook.

Jungkook releases a long sigh at that. He feels unworthy. He let down his brothers again, made them worry about him countless times before and that’s what he offeres in return: disappointment. He cannot risk his bandmates’ good name because of his incautious behavior. They sacrificed too much to be where they are now to lose it over a silly scandal.  

“Do what’s best for the team.” he decides after a while.

Once he’s out of the office, his thoughts drift instinctively to you. Do you already know about the mess he created? Do you even search through social media, looking for the updates about him? No, you wouldn’t go there, he tells himself. He’s almost sure. He hopes those revelations won’t ever reach you.

Sejin breaks his chain of thoughts, stepping into the elevator after him. “What were you even doing in that part of the city so early?” he asks, staring at Jungkook’s reflection in the mirror.

“Does it really matter?”

Sejin’s features soften a little. He’s been with them practically since the beginning. Seen their best and worst, always by their side even when the whole world seemed to be against them. Piggybacking Jungkook out of the practice room because he complained about his feet being sore, joking behind the stage about trivial things when no cameras where around. They trusted him. And he’s never stopped believing in them.

“I told you that million times before. You are allowed to lead your life the way you want, Jungkook. I know how you feel, but as a public figure you have to be extremely careful, first and foremost. People don’t forget, nothing ever disappears from the Internet,” he says, or rather repeats the same mantra he’s been telling them since they broke into the mainstream and started being overly recognizable. “I am here to protect you but I won’t be able to do that if you don’t take care of yourself first.”

He places a strong hold on Jungkook’s shoulder and squeezes reassuringly. Jungkook releases a sigh and the door slides open behind them. “Thank you, hyung.”

“Always, Jungkook-ah. I’m feeling like a father of rebel teenager now.” Sejin laughs lightly to clear the heavy atmosphere, making Jungkook snort.  

“Hey, I’m twenty-two!”

Sejin ruffles Jungkook’s hair, ignoring younger’s grumbling protests. The walk into the spacious parking lot of the company and Jungkook suddenly stops in his tracks.  

“Does Bang already know about this?“ he asks matter-of-factly, although he’s sure what the answer will be. The confirmation he needs comes with a nod from Sejin. “Is he pissed?” he adds then.

Sejin raises his brows, looking down at him. “His golden boy let him down, what do you think? He might not be mad but he’s sure as hell disappointed.” He gestures to his car and Jungkook follows him without a word, imagining his boss’ sour expression next time he sees him. In Bang’s self-made ranking he’s sitting at last place right now probably.  

“Want to grab a proper breakfast with me? I’ve been called into the company while I was in bed. I didn’t even have time to finish my coffee.” Sejin offers, pulling Jungkook out of his thoughts.

“Okay.” Jungkook says, hopping in Sejin’s car. “You’re buying?” he asks, mustering a snickering smile even though he’s definitely not in the mood for joking.

Sejin rolls his eyes, fastening his seatbelt. “Don’t you think you own it to me for saving your ass once again?”

“But I’m your rebel teenager kid, remember?” Jungkook pouts. When he sees Sejin hesitating, he opts for another strategy. The one that never fails. “Rock-paper-scissors?”

“Deal.” 

Tonight, Jungkook pulls up in front of the club you’re working in with his car. It’s Friday night and he recalls you saying you work here every two weeks. He counted the days three times. There’s no way he made a mistake. He’s sober. And he has no intentions of getting drunk.  

You’re surprised when you see him. You haven’t spoken a word for a whole week since he walked out of your apartment. He seems happier when he approaches you, flashing a bunny-toothed smile like nothing ever happened. Maybe he’s good at pretending. That’s exactly what you told him to do - act like the night he stripped you bare and fucked you silly was merely a mirage.

In a way, you’re relieved he makes everything seem ordinary, even though it’s anything but normal.

He waits for you to finish your shift. Tells you he drove here with his car and your eyes involuntarily widen. When you’re standing in front of his black Mercedes Benz, you can’t help but gawk.  

“I don’t even want to know how much money this cost.” You take in the all-polished, black glory of his car, muttering “Holy shit” under your breath.

Jungkook chuckles to himself, gesturing for you to get in. You do it without a word, making yourself comfortable on the leather seat. If he manages not to make things awkward, you can do it to, acting as though he isn’t a well-known persona in your country with an addiction for unhealthy lifestyle.

He starts the engine and drives in the direction of your neighborhood, humming to himself the tune playing in radio. It’s awfully domestic, the way he navigates through the streets like he knows them like the back of his hand although you’re aware he’s glancing at his phone once in a while to check the directions. You catch yourself watching him from the corner of your eye with curiosity, biting your lip to suppress the urge to ask him million questions at a minute. Instead, you let him do whatever he has in mind. You can’t ruin this, you remind yourself.

Later that night, you’re sitting in his car in the darkness, parked on the rundown parking lot where no one’s standing expect for you. The only source of light is coming from the single street lamp nearby, illuminating delicately Jungkook’s features in dim, yellowish lighting.  

He doesn’t say much. He fumbles with the hem of his jacket almost absentmindedly and you know him well enough to sense there’s something plugging his thoughts. You call his name and he turns his head to the side. It’s too dark for you to spot the tiredness on his beautiful face, too dark to read from his eyes and find all the needed answers in them.

“Is everything alright?” you ask and it sounds awfully loud in a small space of his car. Despite the silent promise you made to yourself about keeping things between you civil, you can’t help but interfere.

Jungkook then whirls on his seat so he can face you fully, flashing you a smile meant to throw all your former worries away. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just wanted to sit with you for a while like that, if you don’t mind.”  

If anything, it doesn’t cure your concerns but you shove it to the back of your head for now. Nodding at his words, you fall into the distressing silence. The street lamp nearby goes out and if it wasn’t for the digital dashboard in Jungkook’s car, you would have been surrounded by darkness completely.  

Jungkook chuckles under his breath and you follow suit. The sudden change in the atmosphere should be taken as a sign to abandon this damned parking lot and go somewhere else, but he looks like he has other plans in mind. Hearing the soft whisper of your name, you start feeling like it all was meant to happen. Him appearing in front of the club, the lights going out and enabling you to read the true emotions from your faces – it’s all like fate is again playing tricks with you.  

You don’t know who moves first, crossing the invisible oceans between you and reaching homeland, but the next thing you feel is his lips on yours.

He tastes like the non-alcoholic beverage he drunk earlier, mixed with faint bitterness of his beloved cigarettes and something akin to mint, yet you’re drowning in it, in him, in the warmth of his breath on your wet lips.

You feel the world spiraling in front of your eyes, despite your soberity. You’re moving automatically; leaning into his touch and accepting the kiss with raw passion, welcoming his tongue in your mouth willingly. It should be alarming how good it feels to have him like this, in your arms, teeth scrapping your neck until you’re writhing in your seat. Breathless, he takes the hint, maneuvering your body until you’re straddling his lap.  

It feels dangerously familiar. You know what’s going to happen next, when he unzips your jacket and places his hands underneath your sweater, relishing in the way you shiver at the coldness of his touch. When he sinks his teeth in your neck and withdraws seconds before leaving a blossoming mark. Yet you make no vow to stop him.  

From this exact moment, it’s just a blur of hushed whispers, broken moans and quick caresses that leave you yearning for more. Jungkook acts like he knows your body inside and out, thrusting his fingers knuckle-deep into your heat until you’re keening and begging him for more. And he gives it to you with earnest, coaxing you into an orgasm with one last, final flick of his thumb on your sensitive bud.

Jungkook groans when you palm his bulge through the material of his pants, but he’s too desperate to feel your wetness around him to let you tease him any longer. When you sink down onto him, all of your rational thoughts fly away with the breathy moan you let out in unison with his choked gasp.

It’s fast and ragged, chasing the high that it’s both forbidden yet so craved. And it hurts, when tears well in your eyes, when you’re at the brick of pleasure and you know there’s no way in the world you’re going to experience a desire so raw and overwhelming with anyone, ever again. It hurts when Jungkook picks up the pace and fucks into you with ferocity and anger, because the world is unfair and he’s a slave in the system in which freedom means fucking you dirty in his car when it’s dark out.

And he hates it, hates it so much when you unveil in front of him, whimpering his name hoarsely and tightening around his cock deliciously. He swallows every sound you make with his mouth, clenching his teeth because the pleasure is right there, but he needs an extra push to throw himself over the edge. It’s his name on your lips and the whimper of “Inside, please” that finally makes him snap.

Then, there’s only guilt and laboured breaths. In his self-made list of mistakes, you’re aiming for the top.

Grocery shopping has never been your favourite thing to do.

You would never quite enjoy doing it, not due to the constant anxiety of forgetting about buying something even if you make a list of products beforehand, not when you don’t have enough money to buy a little extra than needed (thanks to the dear capitalistic world we live in).  

Right now, you’re standing in the middle of an aisle with cereal, trying to look as much casual as possible so people passing by wouldn’t suspect you to be a wanna-be thief. The cause of your distress sits at the very top shelf and there’s no way in hell you’ll manage to snatch that Reese’s Puffs without knocking everything over.  

Defeated, you raise your hand to take your second option (good, old Corn Flakes), but a familiar voice coming from the right stops you in tracks.

“Need some help?”  

Twirling on your feet, you’re now standing face to face with Kihyun – Minho’s friend from work. Smiling sheepishly, you nod. “I do, actually. Can you pass me these ones, please?”  

You feel stupid asking that but fortunately, Kihyun doesn’t seem to mind your awkwardness. You talked to him briefly a few times before thanks to Minho, who took his friendship with him as far as to go on a double date together.  

“So, how are you?” Kihyun asks, placing the cereal box in your cart.

“I’m good, thanks. I assume you’ve been also doing well,” He raises his eyebrows at that and you clarify, “Minho told me you got promoted lately. Congrats, chief Yoo.”

“Ah, yeah, thank you,” There’s a tiny bit of pink covering the apples of his cheeks when he waves his hand dismissively at your comment. “But it’s not that big of a deal.”

“I’m sure working in a homicide department is a big deal,” you say. “And I heard it requires some extra shooting training as well.” you add, alluding to what Minho has told you the day you read the message on his phone from someone named Soyeon.

To your surprise, Kihyun furrows his brows in a manner that could only mean he’s confused. “I don’t know what you mean by that.”  

Hiding your astonishment with a light laugh, you explain, “Don’t you go to the shooting range with Minho after work? He told me so a while ago.”  

Something akin to realization crosses Kihyun’s face. He shakes his head. “Yeah, we went there together once or twice but recently he’s training there our new recruit, Soyeon.”  

His words punch you right in the guts. Minho lied to you. He wouldn’t come up with that shitty excuse if he didn’t have something dirtier to hide, right? Maybe you’re exaggerating, but he certainly hasn’t been truly honest with you for a while now. It must be a reason behind his strange behavior.

“Are you okay?”  

For a moment you’ve forgotten you’re in the middle of the grocery store with your boyfriend’s friend. Shaking yourself off your unpleasant thoughts, you send Kihyun an apologetic smile.  

“I’m sorry. I just remembered I need to go to the pharmacist’s and they’re closing soon so I gotta hurry now.” you lie. He doesn’t look like he entirely bought your story but nevertheless, he bids you goodbye.  

You leave the store with half-empty shopping bag, raging headache and a torn heart.

They say silence can speak more than any exchanged words.  

It hovers in the air, heavy and overwhelming, a tension primed to snap at any moment yet it has never happened before. There’s always quiet, no hushed sentences, half-lies or stuttered confessions leaving quivering lips.  

Sometimes you wonder when will you have enough. When will you be able to resist, to say you’re hurting so bad it aches right in your heart, like there are tons of bricks lying on your chest, suppressing your breathing. And maybe this is the night.  

A few unread messages on your phone, next one popping up and the screen lights up. 

[1:23pm] jungkook:

i need you  

It pains, a dull ache and suddenly there isn’t enough air in the room.   [1:24pm] jungkook:

please  

He never begs. It doesn’t suit him. There is too much pride and power inside him to crawl in front of you, to fall to his knees and plead. Yet, you falter, shaking fingertips typing a quick response. When brain screams fuck you, you don’t deserve me, a sight of him makes all the rational thoughts go to hell.  

He stands in your door, slender body leaning against the frame. You haven’t seen him for a while, a week or maybe two. His skin is pale, sheer and delicate you worry it might break if you trail your fingers over it. There are bangs under his bloodshot eyes and you know he had trouble sleeping again. It hurts seeing him like this, beautiful and broken but you’ve always loved picking up the damaged pieces.

He smiles, a lopsided smirk you know oh so well, a dark amusement because here you are, pliant under his gaze, vulnerable under his every command.  

“Hello, doll.”  

It’s the ‘doll’ that makes you grimace. Nickname he uses only when you’re stripped bare for his liking, bend to his will. It means he’s been drinking. Probably the expensive whiskey you hate the taste of so much when it lingers bitterly on your tongue after each swipe of his mouth against yours. “Will you let me in?�� he then asks although he already knows the answer.

It’s cruel of him how he uses your weakness. You hate seeing him like this, hate when he’s thrown apart and you’re the only one who knows how to fix him. That’s why you move away from the door in a silent invitation, biting your lip when you see his slouching posture and unsteady walk.  

It hurts when you help him sit on your bed and he smiles at you lazily, in all his beautiful yet broken glory. You almost don’t recognize him. It’s not your Jungkook. Your Jungkook would never drown his misery in alcohol, he would never sit in your room barely conscious, smelling of cheap bars and cigarettes.  

But you accept your fate the way it is.  

“I need to sober you up a little. I’ll go get you a glass of water, okay?” He hums in response, although you’re worried it might have not reach his ears at all.  

Jungkook looks up when your back, accepting the water and drinking it with eagerness. “You’re too good to me, you know that right?” he slurs a little once he’s done. “I don’t deserve you.” he adds after a moment, cupping your cheek with his unoccupied palm.  

You squeeze your eyes shut because you fear you might break down in front of him if you look him in the eyes. He strokes your skin, murming “I’m so sorry” all over again.  

You stay like that for a few beats of silence, breathing in each other’s presences until you hear Jungkook’s phone buzzing in the pocket of his jacket. Taking it out, you see ‘Jimin-hyung’ written on the screen. “Your friends are worried about you.” you murmur, nudging his side.

“Tell them to go to hell.” You hear him muttering under his breath. Sighing, you decide to exit the room and answer the call.  

“Jungkook? Where the fuck are you?!” Jimin’s angered, thick with Busan dialect voice rings in your ears, making you flinch. “You should’ve at least answer my text once so I would know you’re okay!”  

Mustering the courage, you take a deep breath and say, “Hi, it’s Y/N speaking. Jungkook’s friend.”  

There’s a pause on the other side, until your hear Jimin clearing his throat. “Oh, hi. Is Jungkook maybe with you?” he asks and you smile to yourself involuntarily noticing how his voice has changed once he realised he’s not speaking to his friend.  

“He is. Drunk, but in one piece.” you reply, sparing a glance at aforementioned Jungkook who’s now slumped down on your bed, probably fast asleep.

Jimin sighs with relief. “That’s good then. You know, we got into a little fight today and he suddenly disappeared without a trace, and we are right before the comeback so–”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to explain anything to me,” you interrupt his rushed rambling. “I’ll take care of him.”  

“Thank you, Y/N-ssi. It means a lot.”  

‘’I’ve been taking care of his ass practically since we were kids, so it’s not a big deal for me,” you chuckle lightly, even though you’re definetely not in the mood for jokes. “Well, maybe not in that way but still.”  

“I know. He told me about you.”  

Your eyes widen. “He did?” you ask, failing to hide the surprised tone of your voice.  

“Yeah, he did. When he first told us he met his childhood friend accidentally in the club he got drunk in, we didn’t believe him at first. But then he slowly started opening up more about you and even showed me some picture of you and him when you were kids.” Jimin says. “You know, Jungkook hasn’t been himself for quite a while. He kept pushing us away but ever since he met you, he’s started smiling again. Please, promise me you’ll never hurt him.”  

You release a shaky breath. “I promise.”  

It’s easy to promise such thing. Because you’re for sure going to end up being hurt first.

It’s your alarm that wakes you up the next morning.

The sight of Jungkook is long gone, the only proof he’s been here in your bed last night is an empty glass on your bedside table and a small note written on the napkin.  

Thank you for everything. I really don’t deserve you.  

Jungkook.

Sheets have gone already cold underneath your fingertips where he laid beside you just hours ago. You didn’t get much sleep the night, watching his beautiful, pale features illuminated by the moonlight slipping through your window. He looked so peaceful with his chapped lips slightly parted and in that moment, you couldn’t think of any reason to hate him and what he’s doing to you.

Later, when you’re finally out of uni, you come home and take a quick shower. It’s Wednesday and Wednesdays are reserved for your small dates with Minho. The guilt you’re feeling while getting dressed and fixing your makeup is eating you from the inside. Staring at yourself in the mirror, you almost don’t recognize the shallow of a girl you’re seeing.  

You are not a bad person, you keep reminding yourself, then why did you sleep with him that night? Let him crawl into your bed again and again after?

Minho waits for you outside in his car. He’s taking you to a new Thai restaurant and you manage to hide the frown on your face, because your dear boyfriend forgot you don’t like this type of food.  

“You look pretty tonight, babe,” he says once you’re inside, waiting for your orders. You smile at him briefly. “It’s really been a while since we went out together, hasn’t it?”  

At that, you nod curtly. It’s true, you haven’t seen each other last week at all. Minho ditched your usual Wednesday date in favor of staying at work for something important. It happened second or third time this month. You feel like you don’t have right to be mad at him. If anything, that’s what you deserve for lying to him behind his back.

The rest of the evening goes smoothly. Your food arrives, you act like you don’t feel nauseous chewing on your pad thai and trying to break out the taste with red wine. Minho babbles about the new Netflix series he’s started watching and you’re pretending to be intrested. Wednesday date at its finest.

Then, when you’re about to pour yourself another glass of wine, Minho stops you with his hand on yours. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something,”  You fight an urge to roll your eyes. He wants to discuss serious matters? What a change. “We’ve been together for eight months. My parents keep asking about you.”  

“Oh,” you blurt out. To hide your anxiety, you force out a breathy laugh. “So, what about them?” you ask, however you already know what the answer is going to be.  

“I thought we could visit them soon in Daegu over some weekend when you don’t have work,” he proposes, squeezing your hand as if to calm your nerves. It’s not doing much to put you at ease. “My mom has already started making plans what food she should make. They’re really excited to meet you.”  

You feign a smile. It should be a natural progression for couples to take things at a time, step by step but you can’t help but feel uneasy. Minho wants his parents to meet you, the girl who lets a certain raven-haired boy play with her heart and mess with her head. In a sick game where both parties are out of reach, you’re terribly losing.

“I’d love to meet your parents.” you say finally, almost breathless.  

“You don’t look very excited.” Minho comments with a smirk and you know he’s joking but the lump in your throat only grows.  

You smile meekly. “I’m just nervous, that’s all. What if they won’t like me?”  

“I’m sure they’re gonna love you. You don’t have anything to worry about.” he dismisses your concerns, reaching for the wine bottle to pour himself a glass. “I’ve got one more thing to tell you. I know it’s a lot for one evening but I’ve been meaning to talk to you about it for weeks now so since we have this opportunity now, I’m gonna use it.”  

Color drains from your face. What else is there to converse about all of a sudden? Biting the inside of your cheek, you give him a sign to continue.

“I’ll go straight to the point. I want you to move in with me,” The bomb explodes and you nearly drop your wine glass to the floor. “I know it might be a lot for your but I really, really want to see you every day in my bed. My apartment is big enough for both of us but once I get the promotion my boss talked to me about last week, we can look for something fancier.”  

You stare at him blankly. First his parents, now this? Minho from the beginning of your relationship was the one who liked to take things slowly. He didn’t kiss you until your third date, he waited unnecessary amount of time to have sex even though you told him over and over again you were more than ready to do it with him.

The sudden rush feels weird. As if sensing your discomfort, Minho clears his throat and asks, “Don’t you want to move in with me?”  

You notice the subtle change in his voice, the way he’s not as enthusiastic as he was a minute ago but you shove it to the back of your head. “I’m surprised,” you respond neutraly. “And of course I don’t mind living with you. I just thought you wanted to take things slow.”  

Minho clicks his tongue. “This has nothing to do with that. I’m not asking you to marry me, Y/N,” he chuckles but you don’t mirror the sentiment. “I think it would be more comfortable for you to live with me than your current cubby-hole.”  

He’s already irritated by your reaction and you know it’s better not to poke the bear but those three glasses of wine down your throat give you enough courage to disagree. “Your place is further from my university and work. Not to mention I have a five minutes long walk to the underground now and it would take longer for me to get there in your area.” you point out.

“You can get a driving license then finally.”  

You frown. “What do you mean ‘finally’? You know damn well I can’t afford it now with the job I have and student loan. We talked about it before.”  

Minho is aware that with your current financial situation you’re barely making ends meet and you can’t let yourself have another, bigger expenses. But you’re fine on your own, you don’t mind living where you do because that’s the result of your independence. You showed your parents you are able to study and work without their extra help. You’re proud of yourself for that.

“Now you’re literally making excuses. Just say you don’t want to move in.”  

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” you try to reason. “I’m not ready for such a big step yet. I need more time to think about it.”  

Minho snorts, rolling his eyes. “What else is there to think about? Either you say yes or no!” His raised tone catches attention from the family sitting nearby and they send curious glances in your direction.

“Stop being so loud, please. We are in a restaurant for God’s sake.” you whisper-shout.  

“Do I look like I give a fuck?” he snorts, obnoxious and annoyingly snarky.

You stay quiet for a moment, debating whether you should give up entirely and hang a white flag or wait for the atmosphere to clear on its own. But you’re so, so tired. Tired of being lied to. Tired of always having to choose your words carefully and bending to his will.  

“You know, I met Kihyun the other day at grocery store,” Minho doesn’t seem much interested in your inquiry, still deeply frustrated with your tantrum. He simply hums, unfazed. “I congratulated him on his promotion. He for sure needs to visist shooting range more now, doesn’t he?”  

Minho arches his brow. “Yeah, I told you he goes there with me and that new recruit.”  

It’s ironic, how easily he can lie to you straight in the eye. But you’re strong enough now to fight back.  “That’s interesting actually, because Kihyun said something totally different.” you say languidly, watching your boyfriend narrowing his eyes.

“And what is that?”  

“He said you’re going there only with your new recruit, Soyeon. The one sending you messages on your private phone.”  

Minho gapes at you for a few short seconds and then, bursts into laughter. “What are you trying to insinuate here, honey?” he asks.  

The petname sounds mocking this time. Ignoring his lighthearted approach to the situation, you dodge a bullet. “I’m not insinuating anything yet. I just pointed out that you lied to me.”  

“Lied? That’s bullishit. I would never lie to you.”  

“But you did, Minho. The day I asked you who Soyeon was after reading the message on your phone. You said you’re visiting shooting range with her and Kihyun after work sometimes. Turns out it’s just you and her after all. Isn’t that a lie?” you press.  

Minho doesn’t like being backed into the corner. When you confronted him first, he thought he had everything under control. Now, he’s losing it and he isn’t used to being that helpless.

“So what? Maybe I told you that so you wouldn’t freak out and think I’m cheating on you. Because that’s all it is about, right? You think I’m fucking someone behind your back.” he snaps, making you wince.  

“I didn’t say that.” you counter but there’s no use for that. You stepped into the lion’s den.  

He aprubtly stands up from his chair and the cutlery on your table clutters. “You know what? I’m done. I’m not in the mood for your bullshit anymore.” He withdraws his wallet from the pocket of his jacket and throws a few bills onto the table.  

A bitter chuckle escapes your lips. “Your’e leaving? Just like that?”  

“Yeah. Are you going with me or not?”  

You shrug your shoulders. “I guess someone has to finish this bottle. It would be a shame to waste such expensive wine.” you say, mustering a sarcastic smile.

Minho doesn’t utter anything more to you. He nods and exits the restaurant, leaving you sitting by the table alone. Despite the stares, hushed whispers and an urge to run away and hide from the audience, you stay a little longer and drink up that damned bottle of wine until there’s no droplets left inside.  

Once you’re outside, you inhale greedily the fresh air. Your head spins a little and you’re debating whether to take an Uber home or just walk thirty minutes on your own to sober up a little. You choose the latter.  

You don’t know what makes you dial his number. You’ve never done that before. He was the one calling you in the middle of the name and begging without words to tend his wounds. Tables have turned, and here you are.  

You call once, twice. After the fifth attempt you give up, showing your phone into the pocket of your coat. As the first tear rolls down your cheek, you realise he would never be there to pick up your pieces.

Three missed calls from: Jungkook

[11:11pm] jungkook:

I’m so sorry y/n. I couldn’t pick up the phone cause we had late practice  

Please call me back. I’m worried

Two missed calls from: Jungkook

[11:36pm] jungkook:  

At least text me if you’re okay

Please  

[11:39pm] me:

I’m fine

[11:39pm] jungkook:  

Thank God

You sure you don’t wanna talk?

[11:41pm] me:

Maybe next time

[11:41pm] jungkook:

Okay  

Night, miss grumpy  

You’re sitting in your favourite cafeteria, typing furiously on your laptop the last paragraph in your assignment. Your philosophy proffesor has been a bitch lately, telling you to write essays about the most uninteresting stuff she could possibly think of. And here you are, writing about Hegel’s triads, reminding yourself the semester soon will be over and so will be your mandatory philosophy classes.

Taking a moment to sip on a caramel macchiato you ordered, you notice a message popping up on your lockscreen.  

[10:45am] jungkook:  

Do you have time now?  

I need to tell you sth  

It’s been two days since your date with Minho. You’re still mentally flogging yourself for calling Jungkook that night repulsively because of your tipsiness. In that exact moment, he was the only person on your mind you could talk to. Once the fresh air cooled down your emotions, you realised how stupid your idea was. 

With slight resistance (and raced heartbeat), you type a response. 

[10:46am] me:  

I guess  

[10:46am] jungkook:  

Great. I’m gonna call you now

Eyes widening, you stare at your phone. What is so important that he cannot just text you instead? Not even a minute later, you hear buzzing. Exhaling shakily, you answer it.  

“Hi, Miss Grumpy,” Jungkook says and you could tell by the tone of his voice he’s in a good mood. He sounds like the old Jungkook you know well. It’s a pleasant surprise. “What’s up?”  

“You called me to ask how am I doing?”  

Jungkook chuckles and something inside you flutters hearing that. “And what if I did?”  

Rolling your eyes, you respond, “Let’s just say it’s unusual of you. Shouldn’t you be at some dance practice right now?” you ask.

“We just ended a company meeting. And this is exactly the reason why I’m calling you.”  

“Should I be scared?”  

”Not at all. I’m gonna move straight to the point,” he says and your pulse involuntarily quickens. “Are you free next weekend?”  

You bite your lip. There’s a part of you that wants so bad to counter with “What? Do you need a booty call?” but you don’t let your facade break that easily. Instead, you tell the truth. “Yeah, I am.”  

“Would you like to go with me to Busan then?”  

You nearly spill the coffee onto your laptop. “Oh.” You can’t quite hide the surprise in your voice. You would never expect him to propose you such thing, yet here you are.

It’s been a while since you were home. Not like you don’t want to see your parents, it’s actually the opposite. The reason you haven’t been in Busan for months is simple: you don’t have extra cash on the side to afford a two-way train ticket.  

Sensing your bewilderment, Jungkook takes your silence as a sign to explain further his sudden proposition. “Our company gave us few days off to relax before final comeback preparations so I decided I could go home,” It’s what he says and unsure of what to answer with, you only hum in response. “You told me some time ago you haven’t seen your parents since Christmas so I thought you might accompany me.”  

Something squeezes in your chest hearing that. You fail to hide the smile creeping on your features and despite the many obstacles that should be a warning sign for you to say no, you find yourself reminiscing in the idea of spending a weekend at home with Jungkook. Just like old times.  

“Okay. I agree.”  

Upon hearing your response, Jungkook breathes out a sigh of relief to the phone. “I thought you would ditch me.”  

“Excuse me? Who do you think I am? I wouldn’t miss an opportunity to eat my mum’s bulgogi.”  

You can’t ignore how you’re feeling, cheeks flushed and a silly smile stretching on your lips. But there’s still that bugging thought present at the back of your head, reminding you of your illicit affair and every mistake you’ve made so far. Maybe agreeing to a small trip down childhood memory lane is one of them.  

Right now, sitting in a cafeteria and talking on the phone with Jungkook about the details and your mum’s cooking skills, you pretend like you’ve turned back the time and everything else is a mere drawback to deal with later.

“I can’t believe I agreed to do that.”  

That, is a blatant lie. You know damn well why you’re standing on the pavement in front of the building you live in as Jungkook pulls up with his high-priced, straight-from-the-salon black Mercedes. Something ignites in your lower stomach at the mere memory of what you’ve done there inside last time.

When he exits the car, you disregard as best as you can the aloof feeling in your chest, seeing him adjusting his bucket hat further down. This is the life he’s living, you remind yourself. If he wants to minimize the risk of people with preying eyes recognizing him.

Dressed in all black, he comes up to you and lifts his head up. That’s when you see him fully for the first time since he stumbled through your drunk and barely conscious. He smiles widely approaching you, not an ounce of uncertainty in his movements when he wraps his arms around you in a bear hug.  

“What’s that for?” you mumble.

“Just missed you.”  

He smells like the flowery fabric softener you know he likes. It almost lulls you into paying no mind to the thumping of your heart against your ribcage and redness blossoming on your cheeks.  

It almost makes you forget he’s not yours, and you will never be his.  

You’re the first one to withdraw, stepping away. “You’re such a sap.” It’s the first thing that comes to your mind to say after such intimate moment  – twist it into something without depth and meaning you’re so afraid of facing.

He shrugs, still smiling. “I’m just happy we’re going to spend some time together with our families.”  

You know he is. Jungkook has always been a family person. Moving out at a ripe age of fourteen paradoxically strengthened the bond he has with his parents and brother.  

He picks up your bag from the ground and throws it into the trunk next to his. Getting into the car, you mutter, “You know, I tweet ‘eat the rich’ every two days but you are safe from my hatred for high class as long as you drive my ass with this expensive car to Busan.”

Jungkook chuckles, starting the engine. “Thanks for your kindness, love. Good to know I’m pardoned.”  

“Jokes aside, I mean it though. I might want Jeff Bezos to rot in hell but at the same time I think you deserve that money because I know you worked hard to achieve it.” you say, buckling your seatbelt.  

He spares you a quick glance and arches his eyebrow. “I didn’t know you are actually a fellow comrade Y/N, Miss Grumpy.”  

“Oh, boy. Follow me on my private account. You’ll see then how radical I can get.”  

You earn another laugh from him and you find yourself getting more and more comfortable in the situation, sitting in his car and venturing onto a weekend trip to your hometown. The perspective of spending a couple of hours with Jungkook in the same car doesn’t seem to bother you as much as it did the whole week before.

Tapping the unknown rhythm on your thighs, you reach to press what you think might be the radio button. Your aren’t good with modern technology, so you smile triumphantly to yourself, hearing the first tunes blasting from the speakers. 

The slow pop-ballad ends and radio host announces next song as ‘fan favorite’. You look out of the window for a short while just to be brought back to the reality by the sound playing in the background. You know this song more than well.

“No. We are not listening to this.” Jungkook reaches to change the radio station with a speed of light, but you swat his hand away.  

“Jesus christ, stop being so dramatic. I love Blood Sweat and Tears! It’s a masterpiece.” you protest.

“I thought you don’t listen to our songs.”

You gasp, placing a hand on your chest. “Excuse me? I’ve been to your concert twice, dumbass. And I’m saving up money for another.”  

That, is true. You like listening to BTS not because of Jungkook (though he might one of the reasons you fancy them) but it’s their music and message in general. Now, since they’re over their badboy phases and objectifying women in every ‘love song’, you’re fond of them even more.

You start humming Namjoon’s part when Jungkook cuts in. “Okay, then. Who’s your bias?” he asks.  

You don’t miss the way he seems to grip the steering wheel tighter. Of course he would be that petty to ask you this. To entertain yourself a little, you quip, “Take a wild guess.”  

“It has to be Jimin-hyung.” he says right away.

You shake your head. “Boo. Try again.”  

“Namjoon-hyung. You bit your lip when he started rapping his part.”  

“That’s bullshit. Namjoon’s hot but not my type. And you should keep your eyes on the road, buddy.” Placing your fingers on his chin, you turn his head away.

Jungkook sighs. “Who is it then?”  

“Taehyung.”  

Hearing your response, he snorts. “I should’ve known that.”

“And why is that?” you ask, trying to hide your amusement.

“Because he’s the most good looking from us all. He dresses stylishly,” You could tell by the tongue in his cheek you’re irking him right now. Adding to the irony, Taehyung’s part in the song comes blasting from the speakers. “He has a nice, deep voice.” Jungkook adds and before he can name another positive trait of his friend, you chime in.  

“Is somebody jealous?”  

Though you’re clearly making fun of him, he decides to chuckle like he doesn’t give a fuck anyway. “Jealous? Of Tae? Please. I have no reason to be.”  

Smirking to yourself, you find his demeanor too entertaining. “That’s good then. Because I think you’re handsome too. And I love your voice when you sing.” you say, turning your head to the side to observe his reaction.  

No matter how much he tries to hide it, clenching his jaw and giving you an eye roll, there’s no use for that. The blush covering his cheeks gives him anyway. His agony ends with one last beat of the song.  

Hiding a yawn behind your palm, you lean back onto your seat. Last night you didn’t get as much as you’d like to and your four hours long drive to Busan seems like a great opportunity for a compensatory nap.  

Drifting off to sleep, the last thing you remember is Jungkook’s hands on the steering wheel and his soft voice humming the song playing in the radio.

“Hey, sleeping beauty, wake up. We’re almost there.”  

Slowly opening your eyes, you’re met with familiar-looking streets of your hometown, Busan. You jerk abruptly, straightening your posture. “Why didn’t you wake me sooner?” you ask, looking to your left at Jungkook.  

He shrugs in response. “You looked like you didn’t want to be waken. And trust me, I know what it feels like to be brought back to reality from a good nap too early.”  

You don’t dwell on that more. Instead, you look out of the window, greedily drinking in the city. You’re now driving through downtown, passing by shining skyscrapers. Both yours and Jungkook’s houses are situated in a more peaceful area of Busan, closer to the sea. That’s why you spent most of your childhood and teenage days there as long as the weather was merciful.  

Spring has always been your favourite time of the year but spring in Busan hits different. You don’t have an occasion to sit by the sea and watch the sky burning in orange and red in Seoul. Here, where you used to grow up, spring is the cherry tree blossoming, your mum planting vegetable seeds in her small garden behind your house, you and Jungkook smoking cigarettes underneath the pier while the sun hides  behind the horizon.

“Did you tell your parents you’re coming?” Jungkook’s voice pulls you from your thoughts.  

“No, I didn’t. I want it to be a surprise for them.”  

“Oh, that’s cute.” he comments curtly and turns right. You’re approximately thirty minutes until you reach your destination. “I need to talk with you about one more thing before we get there.”  

You focus your sight on him, however he seems to avoid your eyes. You give him a sign to continue. “Go on.”

Jungkook rubs his forehead with his hand and then sighs. It’s a nervous habit of his, you recognize. “I just want to apologize for causing you so much trouble. Not only last time but in general,” He stops at the red light and cocks his head to the side to look at you. “I acted like a complete dick and you don’t deserve to be treated like that. I’m sorry for everything. I thought this small trip here would be some sort of redemption for me, I don’t know.” The lights turns to orange, then to green and he focuses his eyes on the road again.

Reaching over the gearshift, you place a hand on his thigh to get his attention. When he peeks at you with the same, round, sparkly eyes you’ve grown to adore, all you can do is smile softly. “I’m okay, Kook. If that’s what you need, I don’t mind helping you. If only it means you’ll be okay too.”  

Perhaps he notices the sadness in your eyes when you say it. Perhaps he can tell your smile is not the happiest he’s ever seen. If he does, he chooses to stay silent. Instead, he nods. Taking his action as a sight to withdraw, you straighten on your seat.  

“There’s one more anything, actually,” Jungkook adds after a while.  

“What is it?”  

“You’re invited to a party.”  

“What party?” you ask, brows furrowed.

‘’We are celebrating Junghyun’s engagement.” he says casually.

Eyes widening, you let out a shocked gasp. “What?! Your brother got engaged?” 

Jungkook sends you a look. “Jealous, buttercup?”  

You roll your eyes. “I told you I had a crush on your brother when I was ten. It’s been twelve years since then. Twelve!” you exclaim, but he only smirks in response.  

The reason you liked Junghyun as a kid was simple: he was your best friend’s older brother. He was just there yet unreachable at the same time.  

(And he didn’t have as many pimples as Jungkook.)

But Junghyun getting married? That is a news to you. You clearly remember him telling you one day he would never form a serious relationship before he reaches thirty. Looks like he made up his mind.

“I’m just pleasantly surprised he decided to settle down. Junghyun has always been more of a free soul when it comes to dating. I even remember your mum throwing him a tantrum during barbecue because of this.” you say.

“Honestly, I’m not that shocked. You should’ve seen him looking at Hyerin during our Christmas dinner. This boy is whipped.” Jungkook chuckles.  

“Your parents must be happy.” you comment absentmindedly.

He nods, the corners of his mouth stretching in a small smile. “Yeah, they are. They really like Hyerin. And considering they won’t be getting grandchildren anytime soon thanks to my line of work–” he trails off, “–they are even happier that hyung is settling down.”  

The air seems heavy now inside Jungkook’s car. He said an obvious thing you were aware of but something aches in your chest at the thought.

You will never understand why there’s so much stigmatization surrounding idols dating other people. Wanting to be loved by someone is a natural, human need. Prohibition won’t magically stop them from catching feelings.  

But there’s also another side of the story – the one Jungkook referred to. In his line of work even if there are no obstacles, it’s hard to maintain a long-lasting relationship. And he knows that.  

You still remember vividly his first girlfriend. Her name was Eunbi and she was one of their manager’s daughter. Her dad used to take her to the MV sets, introduced her to the boys because she was a fan of them. And that’s how she met Jungkook.  

Jungkook, age seventeen, was too shy to hold a proper conversation and keep eye contact with a girl at the same time but somehow, him and Eunbi got along pretty quickly. They shared a sympathy for the same video games and for Jungkook back then it was enough to fall head over heels for her. She was his first kiss as he told you (”First real one, because I don’t count that peck Jisoo gave me in fifth grade as a kiss.”)  

After that moment you decided you’d never like Eunbi. Not because you were furiously in love with him, no.

You just didn’t want to see him form such a close bond with anyone else but you.

Their fairytale love story ended when Eunbi’s father found out about their secret randez-vous. Jungkook sulked for a week and then eventually got over Eunbi.  

(And he was again texting you about that video game you had no interest in but you pretended to be a good substitute for Eunbi and her nerdiness you lacked.)

“What are you thinking about?”  

You’re standing on the red light again. Glancing at Jungkook, you find him staring right back at you. “I’m wondering whether I’m invited to the wedding.” you lie.

“Of course you are. I’m sure hyung is going to do it officially tomorrow,” he answers with a grin. “I think Taehyung is coming too. He loves weddings.”  

Narrowing your eyes, you reply with a saccharine sweet voice, “It’s about time you introduce me to your bandmates. Especially Taehyung-oppa.”

“Oppa?”

You bite your lip. There’s no doubt you did that on purpose. You find it rather amusing to see Jungkook so worked up over such a silly thing. You wonder how far you can go before he finally snaps.  

Smirking to yourself, shrug your shoulders. “The light’s green. Watch the road, Kookie.”  

Jungkook huffs, shaking his head. It’s approximately fifteen minutes until you reach your destination. “I’m sure you will be delighted to meet him.” he says with enough amount of sarcasm for you to know he’s irritated.

“Oh, I will be over the moon.”  

“Good.”  

“Amazing, even.”

You hope he doesn’t notice you failing to maintain a serious expression.

You moved with your parents to your new house in Busan at the age of eight, two ponytails, overalls and sparkly sneakers every kid wanted to have adoring your small frame, a look of pure concern worrying your childish, chubby features. 

It was a quiet neighborhood, on the suburbs of the town, a row of similarly looking terraced buildings and small gardens in front of them, every single one akin to the other. There was nothing distinctive about the area, it screamed dullness and tedium but for years you have grown to call this place home.

You know every corner here inside out. A local grocery store owned by a lovable, elder woman known as Miss Kim, who always has spare candies underneath the counter for children who come to buy something for their parents. Next to the store, there is a florist’s. Your first, high school part-time job. The intense smell of roses makes you nauseous to these days.

There is also your primary school, huge backyard behind it with a run-down playground. You never minded it though, spending there probably too much time for your parents liking. Many memories were made there. First, innocent childish peck placed on your cheek from a 6th grader named Jinyoung. Twisted ankle, tears, pain and regret because you decided to jump off the highest step of the climbing frame one Friday afternoon after classes. A punch to the face of school’s bully Dongin, who called your new pair of Converse trainers ugly.

It was exactly fourteen days before the end of August when you met Jungkook.

You had been living in the new house for almost a month but still felt too insecure to explore the neighborhood. Most of your time you were spending inside, missing your old friends and reading books to distract your attention from the approaching start of the second semester in school.  

It was probably one of the last scorching-hot days of the year and you were sitting in your garden alone, family’s cat named Leo purring on your lap, when all of a sudden a ball bounced on the grass right in front of you, landing perfectly at your feet and almost scarring Leo to death.  

And then, you looked up and saw him.

A pair of big, black doe-like eyes hidden behind a fringe of onyx hair staring at you through the fence curiously. The boy was not much older than you, probably around your age. He was wearing a striped football t-shirt with some popular team name.  

You fidgeted slightly on the pavement where you were sitting, glancing at the boy shyly like you didn’t know why he was looking at you so intensely. You noticed a small scar on his left cheek, his knees were bruised, splashed with dirt just like his sneakers.  

“Can you give me my ball?” he asked suddenly, startling you.  

Your eyes widened. Of course he would talk to you, you scolded yourself, he wants his ball back.

When you didn’t answer immediately, he continued, “I kicked my ball here by an accident. Can you give it to me?” He pointed at the object lying at your feet.  

You nodded and picked up the ball from the ground. You threw it over the fence, so it landed directly on the other side.

“Thanks.” the black-haired boy said. “I’m Jungkook, by the way. What’s your name?”  

“___.” you responded and the boy, Jungkook, grinned at you friendly, showing his bunny-like smile. He looked cute.  

“Bye, ___! See you tomorrow!” he beamed and headed back to his house.

Tomorrow. He wanted to meet up with you and what? Play football? You were petrified, as the eight-years-old girl should be after hearing such thing from a boy.

And just like he promised, Jungkook visited you the next day. He took you to that playground behind your new primary school. You came home with bruised legs and splotches of dirt on your skirt, to your mother’s dismay.

You also came home with a content grin plastered on your face and a new friend.

Unexpectedly, Jungkook appeared to be a pleasant company and you found yourself enjoying his boyish bickering while fulfilling the rest of the summer break doing things your old friends would consider inappropriate for a girl.

You never thought you could be friends with someone like Jungkook. He was a boy, for God’s sake, and your eight-years-old-barbie-phase-self absolutely despised boys. But months passed quickly and you both found yourselves stuck to each other sides. Something in your relationship simply clicked.

The neighborhood you grew up in isn’t a suburban area but it definitely seems more peaceful than busy streets of downtown. You pass by local church, miss Kim’s store and the big, luxurious house owned my Gwon family you dreamt of living in when you were a kid.  

And then, approximately two hundred meters further, there is your house.  

“Here we are.” Jungkook says, pulling up at his parent’s driveway. They left the gate open, anticipating their son’s arrival.  

Jungkook hands you your belongings, offering you sheepish smile. “I thought that once you unpack and eat dinner, we could go to the beach together,” he says, scratching the back of his head. “Of course, only if you want to.”  

You don’t give his proposition a second thought. “I’d love to.”  

He grins in response and you take it as a sign to leave and finally meet your parents. From the distance you see your mother in the garden, dressed in her usual clothing – black and red checked shirt and cropped denim pants she wears while gardening.

She doesn’t notice you yet, too busy pulling weeds from her precious tulips. You know her better not to creep behind her like that, so you take a deep breath and shout, “Eomma! It’s me!”  

She stands up and twirls around to face you. Her eyes visibly widen, like she actually thought her mind is playing tricks on her and she might have misheard you.  

“Good Lord, Y/N, sweetie, is that really you?” She throws away her gloves and jogs up to you, enveloping you immadietly in a bear hug. “I missed you so much. Why didn’t you say anything you’re coming?”  

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” you mumble. “Jungkook took me with him.”  

At that, your mother pulls away. She arches her brows. “Jungkookie is home as well?” she asks, earning a nod from you in response. “You’re talking with him again?” Her voice is laced with apparent bewilderment but that’s exactly what you expected her reaction to be like.  

Your mother is aware you and Jungkook haven’t been keeping in touch for three long years. She was basically your only source of information about him (besides Twitter) thanks to her close friendship with his parents.  

“That’s quite a long story. I will tell you everything later.” you say. Well, maybe not entirely everything. You’re for sure going to miss out the parts you’re not proud of.  

Your mother doesn’t press you more about it. Instead, she puts her arm around your shoulders and pulls you to her side. “It’s your lucky day sweetie, because we have your favorite bulgogi for dinner. Honey, come here quick!” she shouts and you chuckle, hearing your father responding with: “What is it again?”.

The door to your house creak open, revealing your flustered dad. His expression morphs into a genuine smile when he spots you. “Is it really my daughter or are my eyes deceiving me?” he asks.  

‘’Your eyesight is fine, appa. It’s really me.” You come up and give him a small hug. He was never the affectionate type of parent but once you moved out, he let his facade break a little.  

From where you’re standing now, you have a clear view of Jeons’ house. Here, fourteen years ago, sitting on your porch, you met Jungkook for the first time. You see his window upstairs, alligned perfectly with yours. You wonder if he’s already there, inside, unpacking in his blue-painted childhood room.  

(What if it isn’t painted blue anymore?)

“Come on, let’s go. You’re probably starving.” your mother says, pulling your mind back to the present.  

Walking into your house, all you can think about are his tears-filled eyes when you were bidding him goodbye almost ten years ago in his blue bedroom.

It takes you more or less thirty minutes to reach the bay.  

When you were younger, you used to ride there by bikes practically every single day during summer. You loved sitting on the beach and observing people enjoying their time; swimming in the sea, kids building sand castles and their mums trying to relax among childlike chatter and the smell coming from nearby fishmonger’s store.

It was Jungkook who discovered the spot underneath pier. His curiosity only a twelve-year-old can posses led him there one day after school. At first, you were rather reluctant to go and didn’t mirror his excitement but once he actually showed you it, you changed your mind completely.  

It was a perfect place to hide from the world. You called it a ‘temple’ because it really felt like no one beside you knew about its existence, and that’s what made it sacred to you. When Jungkook moved away you were left to go there by yourself. Without him, it always felt like it was something missing.  

Right now, sitting here feels like you’ve you’ve turned back the time.  

It’s like you’re eighteen again, running away from the whole world, starting your own rebellion with a cigarette caught between your lips and sun disappearing behind the horizon. Listening to the songs Jungkooks had saved on his old iPod and catching up with everything that happened during the last few months when he was absent in your life. 

When you were eighteen you didn’t even know how to smoke properly, blowing out the fume too quickly and stiffing a cough so Jungkook wouldn’t laugh at you. Now it’s a different story.

Looking at him from the corner of your eye, you notice how much he’s changed physically over these five years that have passed. Gone is the baby fat on his cheeks, replaced with sculpted jawline and prominent nose. His hair is longer, falling on his forehead. There’s more piercings on his ears, an expensive watch wrapped around his wrist.  

He looks breathtaking. It never occurred to you before just how beautiful Jungkook really is up close, when there’s no flashing cameras around and make-up covering every imperfection on his face with concealer.

This is your Jungkook. The same one whose competitive nature never let you win any of his computer games, who called you after their debut showcase with quivering voice, who always treated you as his equal even when other boys were making fun of him for being friends with a girl. Your Jungkook, who’s too good for this world to be treated so unfairly.  

“I think Minho is cheating on me.” you blurt out.  

It’s been sitting on your tongue for weeks and now you finally let the words slip. You don’t see his reaction but from the sharp intake of breath you assume it’s not something he’s expected to hear from you.

“Few weeks ago I read a message on his phone from some girl asking when he will be free next time,” you continue before you could stop yourself. “He’s been meeting with her alone behind my back this whole time and I didn’t notice anything until now.” A pair of arms wrap around your frame. Jungkook presses a fleeting kiss to the crown of your head. “I don’t even know if that’s true or I’m overreacting but I just can’t understand how he can lie to me one day and the next propose to move in with him.”  

You don’t realise you’re crying until you feel Jungkook hugging you closer to him. You burry you face into his chest as sob after sob shakes your body. “Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay,” he whispers, stroking your hair. “I’m here.”  

Few minutes pass until you calm down, wiping your tear-stained cheeks with your hand. Jungkook offers you a tissue and you thank him with a small smile. You can only imagine how ridiculous you look right now, with smudges of mascara underneath your eyes and red nose. Not a sight for sore eyes.

“I’m sorry. I just needed to get it off my chest.” you say after a moment.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for, Y/N. If you need to talk about it, I’m here for you. I’m still your friend, right?” Jungkook asks, meeting your eyes.

You nod, although he’s anything but friend for you. “Right.”  

Because friends don’t console each other with burning touches on bare skin. They don’t give into carnality and submit to pleasure, putting it before everything else.  

From the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook’s jaw clenching. “I’m gonna kick his ass when I meet him.”  

Before you could stop yourself, you mumble, “He should probably kick yours, too.”   

Jungkook visibly stiffens, hearing your words. He avoids your eyes, staring down at his lap instead. You wonder what he’s thinking about now. Does he regret his actions? Do you regret letting it happen? No matter how much you know you did wrong, there’s a part of you longing for more. Because with Jungkook, you felt alive. Minho could never compare.

Reuniting with Jungkook after three years made you realize just how much you needed him back in your life. You actually stopped being mad at him the moment he stood in your room for the first time that night, disheveled and sleepy.  

You could love him. Perhaps you’ve always did. But he cannot give you more. Nothing besides bitter-sweet pleasure between the sheets.  

It’s Jungkook who speaks first.

“I might not be the best man in the world but I would never, ever hurt you like Minho does,” he says and you know he means it. He stares at you intensely. “You do believe me, right?”  

“I do.” you whisper truthfully.

He then leans closer and when you think he might actually kiss you, he places a small peck on your forehead. ‘’Good,” he murmurs, still inches from your lips. “Come on, let’s go. It’s getting late and I can practically hear my mum already complaining she doesn’t have enough time to spend with her son.”  

You nod aabsentmindedly at his words.

There’s a tough conversation for you to have once you’ll be back in Seoul again. Finding out about Minho’s lies was a point of no return for you. It made you realise you’ve been on this path with your relationship for a while now, missing signs or not paying enough attention to the details.  

But what is even more disturbing to you, is that you didn’t let Jungkook warm your bed out of simple frustration or heartache. You did it because you wanted him. And that thought scares you the most.

The first thing Jungkook hears in the morning when he wakes up is the high-pitched chatter and the clutter of pots coming from the kitchen.  

He sighs to himself, staring at his blue ceiling. The clock on his bedside table reads 10am and at this rate, it looks like he won’t be getting any more sleep, not when his mum and soon-to-be sister-in-law are making a fuss downstairs preparing for the party.  

The strong smell of homemade food invades his senses as soon as he enters the kitchen. He spots his mum putting something in the oven, her usual red and white polka-dot apron adoring her form. Hyerin is right next to her, busy cutting some vegetables and listening tentatively to her mother-in-law’s babbling.  

“Good morning.” Jungkook says in a groggy voice followed by a yawn.  

“Morning.” Hyerin quips, flashing him a smile.

Jungkook’s mother barely acknowledges his presence, too busy moving around the kitchen and making sure nothing is burning or overcooking. Feeling the first rumble of his stomach, Jungkook opens the fridge and stares blankly at its contents.  

Miss Jeon runs her house by the rule the more, the better when it comes to preparing food for special family occasions. Hence why there’s so many different type of products lined up in front of him, just begging to become a remedy for his empty stomach.  

“Nu-uh, don’t even think about it!” she chimes in, closing the fridge in front of Jungkook’s face and crushing his dreams about having egg toasts for breakfast. He stares at her with confused expression. “Order yourself something for breakfast, please. We need kitchen to ourselves right now.”  

Knowing better not to argue with his mother, Jungkook sighs in defeat and opens the food delivery app on his phone. He chooses the first option that comes to his mind that won’t take too long to make and slumps down onto the couch.  

“Eomma, where’s dad and hyung?” he asks, debating whether to turn on the TV or not. He decides on leaving it silent.  

“I sent them to the grocery store. They should be back in two hours,” she responds. “Hyerin-ssi, please make sure to keep an eye on the soup. I’ll be right back!” The door to bathroom slams behind her and Jungkook chuckles under his breath.  

“Is she giving you hard time?” he asks Hyerin once he knows his mother cannot hear them.

Hyerin looks up to peek a glance in his direction. “Your mum is a lovely person, really, but she can be… a lot sometimes. Especially when she’s stressed.” she says, smiling coyly.

“Tell me about it.”  

She lets out a laugh that quickly dies down when aforementioned woman emerges from the bathroom. Instead of heading straight to the kitchen, she makes her way to Jungkook. “What are you planning to do after breakfast, Jungkookie?”  

Jungkook shrugs because honestly, he hasn’t given a thought it yet. “I don’t know. Maybe I can help you with something here.” he proposes, although cutting onions and cabbage is the last thing he would like to do.

Fortunately, the grimace on his mother’s face tells her she’s not quite fond of his proposition. “Oh, no, no, no. We’re perfectly fine on our own with Hyerin-ssi. We don’t need extra pair of hands. Why do you think I told Junghyun to go with dad?” she asks rhetorically with raised eyebrows.  

Of course Jungkook knows why. Kitchen is his mother’s kingdom. No one steps a foot there while she prepares food unless she permits it herself. Today she’s even more uncompromising about it because it’s the first time Hyerin parents are meeting Junghyun’s. It’s the matter of making a good impression as the host.  

“Maybe you could call Y/N and ask her what her plans are? I’m sure she won’t be very busy.” Jungkook’s mother prompts and he feels like he’s ten again, bored on Saturday and wondering what to do with himself. Then, an idea pops in his mind.

“Yeah. You’re right,” he agrees. “I’ll call her.”  

Maybe a literal trip down memory lane is everything he needs to feel like himself again.  

As predicted, at first you welcomed his idea with a little bit of qualm, yet you said yes nonetheless.  

And now here you are, hanging out together at the playground behind your old primary school. Getting there wasn’t an easy task, it required some parkour abilities and jumping over the fence because the place is apparently being locked on weekends now. Ten years ago it used to be your life estate on Saturdays.

You’re currently sat on a swing, watching Jungkook doing pull ups. You have a nagging suspicion that he chose to go on with his daily workout routine right now on purpose but you’re not better yourself, doing rather poor job at ignoring the way his hoodie rides upwards with every move he makes, revealing his toned abdomen.

“Okay, I’m done.” he grunts, letting go of the bar. He plops down on the other swing next you with a heavy exhale. “How many was it?” he then asks, referring to the number of pull ups you were supposed to keep a track off.

For a moment you forget you’re supposed to answer, eyes focused on Jungkook’s throat as he chugs down the whole water bottle.

“Hmm?” he repeats and you quickly snap out of your trance.

“I lost count.” Truthfully, you didn’t even make an attempt to do so. You were too distracted by the act itself to pay attention to anything else, let alone do basic math. Now you do understand all these girls going crazy when they get a glimpse of his sculpted body.

Jungkook rolls his eyes in response and starts swinging himself back and forth. It you recall correctly, he lost one of his front baby teeth here, jumping off the swing.

“I thought a lot of would change here after so many years. But it looks exactly like I remembered it.” he says, slowing down to a halt.

You nod at his words. Apart from a little painting and renovations done here and there, it’s like it all got stuck in time. You’re about to add that your mother told you the infamous principal Choi is still consistently running the school, but Jungkook doesn’t let you vocalize it.

“Wait,” He stands up suddenly and walks to the seesaw swing. You furrow your brows as he crouches on the ground and attentively observes the object, presumably searching for something. “A-ha! Here it is! I knew it still would be there.” he exclaims excitedly after a few seconds.

Confused, you come up to him. “What are you doing?”  

“Look,” he says, pointing at the wooden base of the seesaw. At first glance you don’t notice anything but as you get closer, you see what he meant.  

Jinyoung + Y/N = ♡ engraved on the swing.

“Oh my god.” you groan, covering your face in embarrassment.  

Jungkook ignores your whining and actually snaps a picture of his finding. “You know what’s actually funny? It was me who did this because you didn’t have enough strength.” He giggles, making your cheeks heat up in bright shade of red. “I stole my dad’s pocket knife for it. Such a shame your love story lasted only a week.”  

“I’m not listening to you!” you announce and quickly come back to your previous spot on the swing.

Jungkook doesn’t give up easily though, enjoying tormenting you with your pre-teen love life. He follows you, asking, “Wasn’t he your first kiss as well?” You keep your mouth shut, avoiding his eyes. He then clasps his hands. “Yeah, I remember now. Sixth grade. He kissed you here, am I right?”  

You wish you could wipe off that smirk from his face.  

“I never liked Jinyoung,” he continues, sitting down next to you on the second swing. “But I always wanted to have that black range rover his dad drove.”  

Your face heats up even more at the mere mention of Jinyoung and his dad’s car in one sentence. Jungkook can make fun of your silly crush as much he wants, but he doesn’t know one thing.  

That your little infatuation had a sequel.  

Taking a deep breath, you lean closer to him and ask, “Wanna know a secret?” He sends you a curious look and nods. You brace yourself for what is about to come. “I lost my virginity at the back of that range rover.”

Jungkook chokes on air. His eyes widen in pure shock and you have to fight an urge to laugh at how ridiculous he looks right now, gaping at you with mouth wide open. “What the fuck, Y/N?! Tell me you’re joking, please.”

You sigh, shaking your head. “I wish but unfortunately, that’s true. We went to the same high school and somehow… our paths crossed together again.” you explain.

“And you decided to fuck him in his dad’s car?”  

“No, dumbass. We were dating. For whole six months.”  

Jungkook sends you a look. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“It’s not like we were talking back then,” you reply sheepishly, toying with the edge of your sweater. Suddenly it’s hard for you to meet his scrutinizing  stare. “You stopped responding to my messages a little before I started dating him.”  

The atmosphere between you tenses. Jungkook’s expression morphs from astonishment into guilt and you curse yourself for ruining the mood.  

Jinyoung is just a mere memory, one of many mistakes you made during your teen years. He wasn’t anyone special to you anymore, he never had been. Not even when he deflowered you on the backseat of his dad’s car one night after some party. You were too drunk to care and too inexperienced to do more than just lie there and take it. With your skirt hiked up and blouse mid-open, wondering if Jinyoung was just as clueless as you when it came to sex or he simply didn’t know how to pleasure women.

What Jungkook doesn’t have to know, is that you jumped into the relationship with Jinyoung to fill the void your best friend created three years ago with unanswered messages and never returned calls.  You were lonely in high school, you couldn’t manage to form a close bond with anyone after Jungkook. You hoped Jinyoung was good enough for a replacement.

“What about you then?” you ask to clear the atmosphere. “I told you my secret, now you reveal me yours.”  

To loosen up the tension a bit, you decide to play the quid pro quo card. Partially out of curiosity, but mostly because you feel like you’ve exposed yourself too much in a short period of time. It will only be fair if he gives you the same in return.  

Jungkook smiles bashfully. For the person who had done many dirty things to you before, he sure looks shy now. “I was nineteen as well. She was a friend of a friend, four years older than me. We met a party, flirted a little and one thing led to another,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. “I’ve never seen here after that. She tried to contact me but I just… I didn’t want to commit to something more.”

Is he ready for more now? you wonder silently. The question stays at the tip of your tongue though. You can’t wish for more when everything he’s able to provide is a few, quick moments of blissful relief between the sheets when sun goes down.  

But what if you want more? What if you’ve always, subconsciously, felt like you belonged together but universe decided to split you apart? What if you’ve always been in love with your best friend?  

The realization hits you like a tsunami. All these years, you spent denying your feelings for him. And when there’s a chance for you act on them, you back away. 

Because even if he’s now inches from you, he seems out of your reach.

By the time you gulp down your third glass of champagne, Jungkook’s brother’s engagement party is in full swing.  

Junghyun and Hyerin didn’t invite many people to celebrate. It’s a small, family gathering. Your parents were invited thanks to the almost twenty-years-long friendship with Jeons, which started when you moved into the new house next to theirs.  

Jungkook looks painfully handsome dressed in black suit pants and emerald green button-up shirt. His raven hair is styled the way you like the most, parted in the middle and revealing his forhead. You, on the other hand, are wearing a simple, long-sleeved navy blue dress you’ve had on multiple occasions before but it’s still your top go-to garment when you have nothing else to put on.

“Have I told you look great tonight, buttercup?”  

Turning around, you’re met with Junghyun’s smiling face. Of course he would approach you with his childhood nickname for you that used to make your heart flutter.

Besides his hair color, there’s little resemblance between him and Jungkook when it comes to appearance. While Jungkook took a lot after their father, Junghyun is almost a cardboard copy of their mum. Even their characters are two polar opposites. Junghyun is the more outgoing, boisterous type but Jungkook still tends to act introverted towards strangers.  

And paradoxically, it’s the younger brother who’s making a career in entertainment industry.

“Shouldn’t you be complementing your fiancée instead?” you ask, accepting another glass of Martini Junghyun hands you.  

“As you can see, she’s busy being interrogated by my mother.”  

From the corner of your eye, you see Hyerin nodding along to whatever miss Jeon is telling her right now, expressively gesturing. It’s her brand to do so. Your father says that she talks with her mouth and hands simultaneously.

“I’m sure Hyerin-ssi went through it already when they were preparing food together earlier today.” you joke.

Junghyun chuckles, having a seat next to you. He sends quick, supportive thumbs-up to to his girlfriend when she glances at him from the spot she occupies on the couch. You can’t help but coo at the sight.

“So,” you quip, “when’s the wedding?”  

“Next year in August,” Junghyun answers. “You’re obviously invited as well.”  

You smirk around the champagne glass. “I wouldn’t miss seeing my childhood crush getting married.”  

Junghyun laughs at that, throwing his head back. After a moment he adds, “It’s funny though, how you were gushing over me when the boy who had heart eyes for you was right under your nose.”  

You arch a brow. “You mean Jungkook? He had a crush on me?”  

“If course he did. You were the only girl who talked to him and moreover, you always helped him with his homework and you know how bad he was at algebra,” Junghyun says, sending you a knowing look. That much is true. Jungkook did suck at Math and could not, for crying out loud, interact with girls. “If he could, he would’ve taken you with him to Seoul all those years ago.”  

Your eyes involuntarily drift to aforementioned boy, standing with his father in the kitchen. They are looking at something your dad is showing them on his phone, probably pictures of the car he recently renovated.  

(A classic Chevrolet Camaro 1969. For all you know it looked like Damon’s car in Vampire Diaries.)

You can see Jungkook’s eyes growing big as he stares down at the screen. Obviously, he’s genuinely amazed with what he sees. You can only hope your dad won’t try persuading him to sell his luxurious Mercedes and buy something vintage instead.

“Why didn’t ever tell me that?” you ask, your voice quivery. You take another gulp of your drink to soothe the emotions bubbling in your chest and you barely succeed.

Junghyun shrugs his shoulders in response. “Would it change anything? You were thirteen-year-old kids back then and he was moving out to another city to make his big dream come true.”  

Pursing your lips, you nod. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”  

You don’t know exactly what Jungkook feels for you right now. Back when you were teenagers, it was just a fleeting attraction. Perhaps he thought about you this way because you were a girl who liked spending time with him.  

“I know him giving up your friendship was a dick move but you have to believe me that this boy has been really lost these past three years. Now he’s trying to find himself again, to become a better version of himself,” Junghyun remarks. “He needs his best friend to help him do so.”  

Turning once again to look at Jungkook, you catch him staring right back at you. He flashes a cheeky grin and completely fails winking at you. You’re lips automatically stretch into a smile seeing his goofiness. You like that side of him. It suits him.

“I think I need to go save my fiancee from my mother.” Junghyun whispers, catching you off guard. He follows your line of sight and smirks to himself. “Go talk to him. I’m sure your dad wouldn’t mind snatching Jungkook for a bit.” Unlike his younger brother, he lands a perfect wink.

Like beckoned, Jungkook approaches you when Junghyun leaves the table. “Aren’t you a little sad he’s getting married, buttercup?” It’s the first thing that night he says to you.  

Fighting an urge to snort, you ask, “Aren’t you tired of being jealous I chose Junghyun-oppa as the object of my affection and not you when we were kids?”

Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek, manifesting his irritation. You relish in it even more now, having the knowledge he used to pin after you. He ignores your witty retort though completely.

“Want to get out of here for a while?”  

Your heart skips a beat. “Where?” you blurt out, looking around the room for any place comfortable for you to stay in for a while.

“Isn’t it obvious?” When you raise your brows in question he adds, “To your house, of course.”  

“But–”

He shooshes you with a finger on his lips. “No buts, Miss Grumpy. It’s been ages since I’ve been in your room. Do you still have that Edward Cullen’s poster above your bed?” he asks and this time, you actually land a punch to his arm.

Downing the rest of your champagne, you get up from the chair. “Shall we?”  

“Ladies first.”  

“I still can’t understand why did you really hang a poster of some pale dude above your bed.”  

You’re climbing up the stairs to your room, and Jungkook is in the middle of his rant about Why Twilight Has Ever Been A Thing. You’re ten seconds from pointing out his teenage female crushes one by one, starting with IU just to rile him up.

“It’s just weird for me,” he huffs upon taking one last step to the top.

You whip your head to send him a glare. “Do you really want me to say the same thing about your fans worshipping your posters?” you ask, eyes narrowed. “You’re out of their reach just like Edward Cullen was out of mine when I was fourteen.”

He points his finger at you. “But he’s a fictional vampire and I’m real.”  

“Exactly!”  

You leave him with that, eyebrows scrunched in confusion, and open the door to your room.

“So you did get rid of him after all.”  

Nothing really much changed in your childhood room since you moved out four years ago. Your walls are still painted in lavender but the posters are long gone, much to Jungkook’s dismay. There is a bookshelf with all your favorite positions (Twilight included) standing directly next to the desk which is now pearl white, just like the rest of your furniture.  

Before you can say anything, Jungkook plops down onto your bed. “You still got them though,” he murmurs and you glance in his direction, waiting for him to elaborate on what he means. He raises his finger to the ceiling. “Those yellow stars that shine when it’s dark. You have the same in your apartment in Seoul.”  

“Oh, yeah,” you awkwardly reply, looking up. “I put them there so I can have something reminding me of home.”  

Truth to be told, you are a sentimental person. The very best evidence of your heart’s weakness is the corkboard with old photos in your apartment. As cheesy as it might sound, it gives you a sense of comfort.

Jungkook hums at that and pats the spot next to him with his hand. “Come lay with me.” he proposes.

“Why?” you ask, although you sit down on the bed anyway.  

“Because I want you to,” he grumbles and places his palm on your stomach, pushing you to lay flat. “There you go.”  

It reminds you of old days, how you used to lay down with him like that on your bed and just do nothing, simply staring at the constellations on your ceiling in silence or speaking about trivial things.  

Life was much easier back then, when there was no cameras flashing around and capturing every move your best friend makes. When you were just two kids with head full of dreams and dragging on forever doing your Chemistry homework. When you were each other’s beginning and end, yin and yang, sun and moon and the starry sky above you.  

It slips off your tongue eventually, what have you been meaning to ask him since the beginning of your illicit affair. And now it seems like you’ve finally reached the point of no return. “What are we, Jungkook?”  

You turn your head to the side, staring at his right profile. His chiseled jawline, black lashes ghosting the skin of your cheeks. He opens his eyes slowly, focusing his sight on you but you quickly look away.

“You know damn well that we aren’t just friends anymore. Maybe we’ve never been,” You sit up straight from your position, finally gaining enough courage to face the matter. “You can’t play with my emotions like that and expect me not to catch any feelings for you. You’re confusing me so much, Jungkook. I don’t think I can go on like that any more.”  

You feel his palm on the small of your back, comforting and bringing you a brief wave of solace. He follows suit, getting up from his position as well. “Look at me,” he murmurs and you jerk your head to the side. You don’t want him to see you like this again - vulnerable and exposed. “Please, ___.”  

It’s his pleading voice that makes you succumb to his request. Hesitantly, you accept his touch on your cheek and meet his doe eyes, two black charcoals shining in the dim lighting of your childhood room. He has the same look in them as you saw the first time he kissed you. If the teeth worrying his bottom lip are anything to go by, you could mistake it for nervousness.  

“I shouldn’t feel that way about you,” Jungkook finally says. “I shouldn’t wake up with an urge to text you because if I didn’t, my day would be incomplete. I shouldn’t picture us doing mundane things like cooking ramen in your apartment or picking you up from work,” he recites, voice laced with an emotion you can’t quite put the name on. Or maybe you do.

It’s longing.  

“I shouldn’t imagine us being together because I can’t give you all of these things, ___.” Lone tear slides down your cheek and he catches it with his thumb. “I’m so, so sorry.”  

You’re shaking your head, because no, he shouldn’t apologize for the world’s unfairness, for wanting to have more of you, of freedom. “Jungkook–” you start but he’s quick to interrupt you.  

“I told you this before and I’m repeating it now: you deserve so much better than what I can give you, ___.”  

He tries to distance himself, to back away and leave because that’s what he’s a master of but you beat him to it, extending your index finger and poking him right in the middle of his chest. “Now you listen to me, Jeon Jungkook,” you urge, not caring about your tear-strained cheeks and shaky voice. “I’m a very stubborn person, and you know that. If I wanted to leave you, I would’ve kicked you out of my apartment the day your drunk ass stormed back into my life.”  

He smiles sheepishly, putting a strand of hair behind your ear. “And why didn’t you do that?” he asks, his palm not leaving your cheek.  

“Because more than anything, I’ve never stopped caring about you,” It’s almost a whisper. “No matter how hurt I was, I couldn’t let you slip away from my reach again.”  

And then he’s leaning even closer, lips almost touching yours yet it feels like it’s not enough. It’ll never be. “___,” he murmurs your name softly, breath smelling of champagne hot on your skin. You feel dizzy, drunk on him. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”  

You both know it’s a white lie, that as soon as you’re back in Seoul the reality will brutally kick you in but you let yourself for a moment indulge in this fantasy – that you’re his and he’s yours. You’re on the opposite sides of the spectrum, yet you cannot be separated.  

And you need to hear him say it.

“Promise?”  

Jungkook seals it with a kiss, the one that leaves you breathless and pliant in his arms, blindly reaching for him and pulling him closer with your hands on his neck. “Promise.” he whispers, eyes trained on yours.

For now, it has to be enough.

Then, as if he can’t hold himself back any longer, he dives in for more, hands finding purchase on your hips. He’s tugging you closer until you’re perched on top of his thighs, feeling the hard flesh flexing underneath your weight. It feels familiar; that funny, pulsing sensation building up in your core when he swipes his tongue over your bottom lip to meet yours. It makes you tangle your fingers in his black locks and pull, just to hear him groan into your mouth.

But there’s another pressing matter on your mind and before you can go any further, you’re pulling away from his lips with a light smack. Jungkook doesn’t take the hint though, anchoring your hips over his crotch.

“Wait,” you mumble in between kisses, biting down the moan that almost tears from your throat when he uses the grip on your body to grind down on him. “What about the party? What if parents will come home and–”

“Shhh,” He silents you with a peck on your quivery lips. “They won’t. The party has barely started. And even if they do come home, you’ll just have to be quiet, right?” Something about his tone makes you nibble on your bottom lip to suppress a whimper. He sees it, and leans down to kiss your throat. “Can you do that for me, baby?”  

“Mhm,” you mewl, angling your neck to give him more access. He sucks a mark right above your sternum and it almost distracts you from asking him one more thing. “Jungkook,”  

He licks a stripe up the column of your throat and looks at you, lips shining with saliva. “What is this?”  

Despite the urge to kiss him stupid right here and there, you cup his cheeks and repeat the same question that led you to this very moment. “What are we?”  

Jungkook looks like a living sin with his blown out pupils and disheveled hair yet his gaze is nothing less than affectionate. He brings one of your hands to his lips and places a kiss on your knuckles. “Whatever you want us to be,” he responds, sincere. “You know I never give up without trying.”

You nod, a small smile dancing on your features. “I know.”  

He captures your mouth in another kiss, like he’s trying to prove his statement with actions; sucking, biting, kneading your supple flesh just right. Suddenly there’s too many clothes separating you and your fingers grip his silk shirt in faint attempt to satisfy your yearning to feel him fully.

As if reading your mind, Jungkook stops mid-decorating your neck with yet another red mark. “Get up and take off your dress for me, baby.” he says, all soft but still demanding enough to make your knees wobble. As much as you love the dominant side of him, you’re enjoying this new-found softness of his.  

You comply to his request in an instant, raising from his lap to a standing position. Your fingers travel to your backside and pull the zipper down. Your dress falls on the floor with light thud, leaving you in your underwear. It’s matching but not your best pick nonetheless; simple black lace bra and cotton panties. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind though, two antsy hands gently pulling you closer to him until you’re in between his thighs.  

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, leaning down to press a feathery kiss on your belly. You let out a shaky sigh, trying to avert your gaze away from his burning stare but he destroys your attempt. “Don’t shy away from me now.” A squeeze to your hip is a warning. You give in, looking down just to see him smirking right back at you.  

“I won’t if you take off your clothes as well.” you challenge despite your trembling voice.

He gets up, towering over your figure. “Undress me then.” Your shaky fingers reach for the buttons, opening one by one. He watches your movements attentively, lets you run your palms over his broad chest. His silky shirt joins your dress on the floor as you fumble with his belt buckle.  

There’s something intimate about this moment. It’s not the first time you’re seeing each other naked yet everything feels new, unchartered. You’re exploring each other again, mapping your bodies with subtle touches and observant eyes. 

Jungkook strips off his slacks, steps off his shoes along with socks. He sends you a cheeky grin. “Now we’re even.” He swallows your giggle with his mouth, not wasting any more time and pressing you against his body.  

You moan when you feel his erection touching your hip. He uses it as an opportunity to slither his tongue inside, each experienced lick making it hard for you to follow his tempo. You go lax in his hold, letting him snap your bra open. He maneuvers your body until you’re laying on your back and he’s straddling your waist.  

“So pretty,” he marvels, palms caressing your breasts. Your nipples harden under his ministrations, breathy moan escaping your lips when he pinches them. “Such a pretty baby.” he repeats, lost in touching every part of you he can reach.

Jungkook peppers kisses on your belly, hands travelling to your thighs. He leans to kiss you on your panty-clad mound. You mewl at the sensation, unconsciously sliding your legs wide open and giving him more access to your center. “Can I eat you out?” he asks, continuing mouthing over your pussy. When you don’t answer him in time, he slaps your thigh in reprimand. ‘’Hmm?”  

“Please,” you whimper, mind send into overdrive. Minho rarely went down on you and you almost forgot how good it feels to have someone’s mouth on you.

Jungkook grasps your underwear and pulls it down your legs, revealing your dripping pussy to his hungry eyes. His breath tickles your folds, sheets grasped tightly between your fingers. Jungkook kitten-licks your pulsing clit, eyes trained on your face to see every small reaction he emits from you.

“Jungkook,” you keen, hips rising to chase after his mouth.  

He nibbles on your thigh playfully, flashing you a sly smile. “What do you want, doll?”  

It’s the ‘doll’ that makes you whine pitifully at him. He relishes in it, sucking your clit into his mouth as an apology for his teasing.  You whimper, “Please, I want more. Give me more.”  

‘’Demanding, are we?” he snorts but complies anyway. No matter how much he loves hearing you beg, he enjoys eating you out more. He covers you your pussy with his mouth, tongue swiping over your sensitive numb. He licks up clean your soaking slit, not missing a single drop of your pearly arousal.

He groans at the taste and throws your legs over his shoulders. He pulls you even closer to him until his face is burried between thighs. Your fingers wander to his hair on their own accord, threading into his silky strands. After a harsh suck he abuses your clit with, you pull. It spurs him on even more, a groan mouthed against your pussy causing even more slick to drip down your opening. 

“Tell me how good it feels.” he mumbles, glancing up at your face. You focus your sight on him, his chin is shining with translucent substance, hair tangled and sweaty against his forehead.  

“So good,” you mewl.  

“Yeah? That good?” Jungkook asks, tone almost mocking. You’re now only nodding in response, your cunt pulsing with a need to release. “Can you cum for me like this, baby?” he mouths along your folds.  

“Please, please,” You’re nearly crying, tears pricking in the corners because the pleasure is too much to bear. Your clit throbs, eyes rolling to the back of your head. “Oh my god–Kook!”  

“Good girl,” He rewards you with two slender fingers pushing inside your pussy, searching for that one stop that makes your insides flutter. “My pretty baby, tastes so sweet for me.” he rasps before licking a stripe up your cunt.

His digits slide even deeper into you. It sounds sinfully wet but you don’t care, accepting whatever he gives you. And give does he, plunging his fingers repeatedly inside and flicking his tongue against your bud – a perfect symphony to finally send you over the edge.

“There you go,” he murmurs, feeling your walls tightening around his fingers. More juices leak out of your hole and he drinks them up eagerly. “My pretty girl doing so good for me.”  

He prolongs your orgasm until you stop him with a breathy whimper of, “’m sensitive.”  

Jungkook gets up to hover over your shaking body. He opens your mouth with a deep, wet kiss. You taste your arousal on his tongue, feeling no longer foreign and eliciting a moan out of you. His length presses against your hip, hard and straining his briefs. With a surge of boldness you reach down, rolling his underwear off his body. His cock slaps against his abdomen, curved tip leaking precum.

Nibbling on your bottom lip you watch as his hand encloses around his member, giving it a few pumps. He groans, head thrown back. Your eyes focus on the sweat dripping down his sculpted body all the way from his neck down his chest. Jungkook is a sight for sore eyes– slim waist, toned thighs. Everything about him is mesmerizing.  

He settles between your legs, cock prodding at your folds. “You sure?” he asks, searching for your eyes.  

You don’t answer him verbally this time and he doesn’t press about it. Instead you open your legs even wider, a small smile dancing on your features as you nod. You’re welcoming the stretch with a drawn out moan. He pushes himself inside slowly, until he’s flushed against your pelvis, his neatly trimmed pubic hair tickling your skin.  

“Fuck,” he curses, hands coming up to grip your sides so tightly you’re sure they’ll leave fingertip bruises. “You’re so perfect, baby. Made for me.” He leans to press a kiss on your mouth, tongue lazily lacing with yours. It’s messy, saliva trickling down your chin but you don’t care, reciprocating with vigor.  

Jungkook pulls away and places one last peck on your cheek. “Ready?” he murmurs.  

You couldn’t be more than. “Ready.”  

He picks up the pace, blindly reaching for your legs to make you encircle his waist. You’ve never fucked in this position before, with him so close to your face you could practically taste the sweat dripping off his body on your lips. He relishes in having you like this, palms caressing every square inch of your flesh. 

‘’God, I missed having you like this, doll,” he grunts. He props his hand next to your head and it gives him leverage to hammer himself faster into your cunt. “Do you like how I’m fucking you?” he asks and you keen in response. He doesn’t seem to be satisfy with your reaction. “Too fucked out to speak?” You hear him chuckling evily into your ear.

“Shit, Jungkook,” you whimper, throwing your hands over his neck. His skin his hot and slippery under your touch. He rams himself even harder into you, hips never losing the rhythm. You feel the pressure building up in your abdomen already, reducing you to mewling mess underneath him. “I-I love it. So, so much.” you stammer out.

“Yeah?” he prompts, fingers slipping down your belly to toy with your clit. “Love how my cock is fucking you?”

“Yes, yes–fuck,” you chant. “So good.”  

He loses himself in you, in the way how tight you feel around his cock. He tells you this, spits filthy obscenities into your ear and punctuates it with deep strokes inside you. He wants to have you like this forever, keep you to himself and hide from the whole world.  

It’s selfish of him to think that way but he can’t help it, not when you’re moaning so pretty when he tightens his grip on your waist and rails you harder into the mattress. Not when you’re there when he needs you, when you’re his lifeboat bringing him back to the land (sanity).  

He wants to see you smile for him, because of him. Wants to call you his. And that’s what he asks you to, begs in stranded voice. “Say you’re mine,”  You’re shaking your head, tears threatening to spill from your eyes but he needs to hear you say it even if it’ll be just this once. “Please, tell me you’re mine, ___.”

Your whole body shudders from pleasure. You open your quivery lips but nothing comes out of it except for a broken whimper of his name. “J-jungkook–”

“Please,” he pleads once again, entangling your hands from around his neck and pinning them over your head instead. “Say nobody will ever make you feel this way. Fuck you until you cry,” he continues, fingers circling your nub with ferocity. “Fucking say it!”  

You sob, pleasure rippling through your body and throwing you off the edge. “I’m yours,” you whisper hoarsly, staring into his dark orbs. “Yours, yours, yours!” you repeat, creaming his cock with your release.  

“Fuck,” Jungkook groans and you don’t know it’s because of your confession or your walls constracting around his member. Maybe it’s the mixture of both. “You’re mine just like I’m yours.” he spits as the orgasm approaches him, shuddering through his whole body. He comes with a call of your name, spilling himself inside.  

You whimper at the sensation, your arousal mixing with his and dripping from your hole. Jungkook lets go of your wrists, pressing a peck on each of them. His palm cups your cheek and he leans down to kiss you. It’s lazy, your mouths barely moving but it feels good anyway.  

He’s in the middle of pulling his softening cock out of your core when you hear your mum’s voice.  

“___, honey, are you here?” She’s downstairs, approximately forty-five seconds from reaching your room.

Jungkook sends you a panicked look. “Go lock my door!” you hiss. 

He obliges quickly, naked butt jogging across the room to twist the key. You can’t help but giggle as he tiptoes to the bed again. He puts a hand over your mouth and murmurs, “Shhh, be quiet.”  

Your mum’s heels clink on the stairs. Few seconds later she’s knocking on your door. “___, are you there?” she asks. You’re praying she won’t twist the handle because in that case you’ll have a lot of awkward explaining to do. Fortunately, she gives up. “I guess they went for a walk.”  

By ‘they’ she means you and Jungkook who’s currently stifling a laugh against your shoulder. “Well, maybe not for a walk but something equally energy-draining.” he whispers. You elbow him in the stomach, making him chuckle even harder.

When you hear the door to your house closing, you let out a breath of relief. “I knew fucking in my childhood bedroom wasn’t a good idea.”

Jungkook smirks. “You sure about that?” he teases, squeezing your hip. It makes you roll your eyes but you don’t hide the smile on your face afterwards anyway.

Jungkook reaches for your panties and rolls you onto your back, carefully cleaning you up and then himself. He tucks you beneath the covers, encircling your body with his arm. You relish in the heat radiating of him, pressing your cheek right where his heart beats.

“You’ve never told me what would be my biography’s title.” Jungkook says after a moment.  

You smile to yourself, fingertips drawing patterns on his skin absentmindedly. “I’d call it ‘Lost Star’.” you answer.  

“Because I’m a troublesome celebrity?” he chuckles and you shake your head.  

“Well, of course you can interpret it like that but for me it has more of a metaphorical sense,” you explain. “You’re a star, like those on the sky, which got lost and came to Earth instead. That’s why you’re so special. Because you’re out of this world.”  

“I’m no special,” Jungkook grumbles, pouting.  

You sit up from your position to look him in the eyes. “You’re wrong, Jeon Jungkook. And I think I’m not the only person who thinks the same,” you urge. He meets your gaze and you realise how young he looks right now. Young and boyish. “You make thousands of people smile because of your music. That’s a special ability to me.”  

He flashes you a small smile. “I’ve never thanked you for believing in me from the very beginning.” he says, cupping your cheek in his palm.  

“Always.”  

You drift off to sleep with his voice humming softly in your ears.

[4 months later]

“Bangtan Sonyeondan are currently at the Incheon International Airport, leaving for their upcoming world tour. Their first show will be held this Saturday in Los Angeles and–”

You walk into the living room and sit on the sofa, staring at the pictures Korean press took of Jungkook and his bandmates while they were departing to US. They are dressed in their casual clothing and you know the fans are going to freak out seeing Jungkook’s hair has gotten long enough to tie it in a man bun. You’re almost sure the news have already spread on Twitter.

The TV is too big for your liking but Jungkook insisted on buying it anyway. You can almost see the pimple on his cheek he woke up with this morning. It makes you smile involuntarily.

Rest of the design in his–now yours as well– apartment was mainly your idea. He bought it without telling you because he knew you would freak out. And you did, obviously, call him crazy. But he didn’t mind. Told you he needed a space for himself for a very long time and now he has someone to share it with.  

The house feels empty without him. It’s too spacious for one person and when he’s not around, you feel like intruder. But you’ve put on your big girl shoes this morning after a passionate round of love making and teary-eyed goodbyes. You won’t slip them off until he will come home to you in two months.  

He promised he would show you Paris and London. You know he will keep that promise, although you aren’t sure you’ll be able to make it with your new job. After breaking up with Minho, Jungkook encouraged you to try sending your drafts to different publishing companies. And one of them responded positively.

You check your phone–your smiling face meeting you on the lockscreen. Jungkook’s smooching your cheek, but prying eyes wouldn’t be able to tell it’s him from that angle. His last text message is from fifteen minutes ago.  

[5:55pm] jungkook:  

We’re departing in 20 minutes  

I’m missing you already so much:(

You reply, although he’s probably fast asleep like he always does during flying.  

[6:01pm] me:  

Miss u too!!

And you mean it. You’re missing him when he’s at his dance practice, when he’s in the studio. But it has to be enough for now.  

The dates he takes you for have to be in the confines of your apartment. You can’t go for a walk and hold his hand or kiss him in public. He said you needed to wait for the tour to end to discuss publicly announcing your relationship. You’re wondering what’s better: forever hiding or being judged for every step you take.

You’re a strong girl, he once told you. And you’ll continue being one. For the two teenagres on the beach smiling to the camera in the framed photo next to your TV.  

However long it takes.  

#jungkook smut #btswritingcafe #ksmutclub #bangtanarmynet #smutcentralnet #maknaesmutsociety #bangtanhq #btsbookclub #btswriterscollective #jungkook angst #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #my writing #lost stars

[moral-turpitudes]

Little White Lies:

Masterlist | Rules | Peaky Prompts

Trigger Warnings: Angst, Dysfunctional Family, Unsupportive/Jealous Family Members, Fighting, Swearing, Fluff, etc.

Word Count: 4,266

Characters: Thomas Shelby x Female!Reader 

Requested: Yes

Requested by: Anon, you can find it here. (this was such a fun request, I hope I did it justice lol)

Summary: From dealing with unsupportive and envious family members, to being caught in a lie, Y/N is forced to face her family and confront her feelings about her boss, all thanks to a wedding invitation.

“What do you mean you’re working as a secretary? I put in a perfectly good recommendation for you last month at the hospital!” Y/N’s father yelled as she made her way into the living room of her parents house. The old walls poorly concealing their loud arguing.

“Did you stop and think about how maybe I don’t want to follow in you and Margaret’s footsteps? I thought you’d at least be happy I’ve found something I like! But no, it’s not good enough for you aye? Nothing I do ever is...” Y/N yelled back, crossing her arms over her chest.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked, his eyes boring into hers.

“Let’s face it, you and mum both like Margaret better because she has a “respectable job” as a doctor just like you. You pushed her off to the best schools, and only approve of her boyfriend because he’s a classy businessman.” She said lighting a cigarette.

“See? You’re already picking up bad habits Y/N. We just want the best for you.” Her mother said, plucking the cigarette out of her fingers and throwing it into the fireplace as her father looked to the ground with his arms folded.

“A secretary job is respectable. I keep the company from crashing down half the time.” She said.

“And what company is that? One where they shove you in a dark room to type papers all day?” Her mother scoffed back.

“Shelby Company Limited. It’s quite nice actually.” She said with a smirk.

“Isn’t that where the Peaky Blinders run the streets? I bet you’re dating one of them for christ’s sake!” Her father yelled, turning away from his daughter in disgust.

“What if I am?” She asked, balling her hands into fists at her sides.

“Who is it? I’ll get you transferred out in no time. No daughter of mine is working as a damn secretary in fucking Small Heath.” He said.

“Thomas Shelby.” She said, his name escaping her lips before she could think about what she’d done.

Her father tensed up at his name. His face paling in complexion as he sat down, his wife eyeing him with concern.

“The Thomas Shelby?” He asked, more quietly than before as if he was being watched.

“Mhmm. What is there a problem?” She asked, folding her arms over her chest.

“No...are you sure it’s him? He practically owns half of Birmingham. Although his reputation is not something I’m fond of...I guess if you legally work for him that’s...respectable.” He said, his tone softer and more accepting than earlier. 

“Right, so now that I’m dating an infamous businessman, I’m more respectable as a secretary? Why the sudden change? I’m doing quite well on my own with this job.” She said as she observed his rigid body language. He hesitated to speak, remembering when the two older Shelby’s came in half-alive after being shot up by a rival gang.

“Well, given his reputation and my practice, I may have had a few run-ins with him at the hospital. It’s common knowledge not to get in their way but I did. I made him and his bastard of an older brother stay a week to heal after saving their asses.” He said, an annoyed look on his face.

“He threatened your father Y/N. We couldn’t even tell the coppers. But...please don’t get too proud over your position there darling. Your words could come back to you and he could find someone else by sundown.” Her mother said with a nice tone, trying but failing to take the sting out of her words.

She’d always been jealous it seemed. Seeing her daughters getting to achieve things that she couldn’t. Being led to a life of homemaking and hosting parties for her wealthy doctor of a husband. They never amassed the wealth like the Shelby family had, but they were able to afford a decent sized house in London, if that was any indication of her family’s status.

After a long, tense silence, she decided to leave. Saying a quick and frustrated goodbye to her parents before heading back to Small Heath. Her heart racing at the realization that she just openly told her parents she was dating her boss. It wouldn’t be as much of a problem if it were true, but alas it was nothing but a white lie. She had always been quiet on the subject despite them getting along well. Polly could see a connection, which she’d mentioned to her over tea various times, but she always shrugged it off. And now she knew it was only a matter of time before she had to tell him the truth.

As a few weeks passed, she continued with her clerical duties. Filing papers and reporting things to Thomas as usual. Until she got a call from home once again, requesting her presence immediately.

“Why do you all need me here anyway? I could be working right now.” Y/N said, impatiently tapping her foot on the lavish rug lining the hardwood floors of the living room.

“We wanted to give you this.” Her father said, flicking an envelope at her that she barely had time to catch.

The envelope was a light green color - her older sister Margaret’s favorite - with an intricately written invitation inside.

“Thomas Shelby and Y/N Y/L/N,

We cordially invite you to attend the union of Matthew Reynolds and Margaret Y/L/N. Formal attire will be expected at both the ceremony and reception.”

Her eyes grew wide at the invitation as she realized her parents must’ve told her sister about Thomas. Knowing nothing she did was ever kept private, unfortunately. But in that moment she knew she messed up, thinking about how she’d have to tell them it was all a lie. That she wasn’t dating the infamous gang leader. A feeling of panic and embarrassment washed over her as she realized the gravity of the situation.

“Are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Her mother said.

“Y-yeah. Wasn’t expecting Margaret to invite me, let alone um...Thomas to her wedding. Are you all attending?” She asked nervously.

“Well of course! We can’t miss our best daughters wedding day.” Her mother said, not knowing how her words cut into Y/N.

“You’re loved as well. Your mother didn’t mean that. No one would dare disrespect a woman associated with Thomas Shelby. Right dear?” He said, hastily reassuring his daughter and looking at his wife with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh darling I didn’t mean it like that. We love both of you. I’m sorry...I’ll do better I promise.” She said giving her daughter a light hug.

“Please do. I’ll see you at the wedding.” Y/N said harshly, leaving the house in a hurry as she clutched the green envelope in her hand.

A week had passed since she’d set the invitation on her desk at work. The paper easily seen from anyone near her desk as not many envelopes were that color. It cost too much to make them given the financial troubles of the past few years, but of course her sister could afford it.

It was midnight though when Thomas walked by her desk out of habit, the lamp still on while Y/N had left for the night. The faint yellow glow illuminating the envelope as he raised an eyebrow at it. He quickly picked it up, reading the intricate handwriting on the letter inside as he noticed his name next to hers.

The next morning, Y/N walked to her desk to see that the invitation was missing. Her stomach doing flips as she wondered where it had gone.

“Y/N, can I see you in my office?” Thomas said as he leaned against the doorframe, his tailored suit catching her off-guard for a moment as she glanced at the man her heart ached after. Polly giving her a questionable glance and a small, knowing smirk as she walked reluctantly into his office.

He knew. He knew about the letter and she was dumb enough to leave it there last night. Dumb enough to lie to her parents. Dumb enough to harbor any feelings for the man who certainly wouldn’t admit any himself.

“Y/N...” He said, his low voice ripping her from her racing thoughts as she stood by the door.

“Y-yeah sorry. Busy morning. What do you need Tommy?” She asked, nervously fiddling with her hands.

“I need to discuss something with you. Please sit.” He said, walking over to his plethora of whiskey glasses and filling two of them with the brown liquid he loved so much. If anything, he’d probably marry a bottle of whiskey if he could.

“What is it you want to discuss?” Y/N asked, sipping from her glass as it burned its way down her throat.

“I found this on your desk. I know it wasn’t my business to go taking things, but I couldn’t help but notice my name was mentioned with yours...so now...it is my business.” He said, observing how she grew uncomfortable under his gaze, drinking more as she shifted in her seat.

“It’s a long story.” She said blankly while setting the glass down, wanting to flee out the door never to come back.

“And for once I have the time.” He said leaning backing in his chair and lighting one of his many cigarettes.

Y/N sighed and relaxed back into her seat, her heart skipping a beat as she thought of the best way to explain it to him.

“Alright...so my family is a bit backwards as you know. And happen to just adore my older sister Margaret. They funded her schooling, attended her graduations and awards ceremonies, and they uh...like that she’s dating - I mean - engaged to a businessman now. He’s what they consider successful.”

“Successful aye? What...they don’t think some razor-gang from Birmingham is successful?” He asked.

“No.” She answered, looking out the window as she continued.

“Anyway, when I visited them, they started saying things about the company and how my job wasn’t respectable. I tried to shut them down but um, my father accused me of dating one of ya, like it was a disgrace to the family. So I panicked and said that I wasn’t dating just any of them, I was dating you.” She said, looking down at the nearly empty glass in her trembling hands.

“What’d he say to that aye?” He asked, a small smirk playing on his usually stoic face.

“Oh his whole demeanor changed. Looked like he’d seen a ghost. He um...said he knew of you. Said he treated you and Arthur for a week after a bad night on the job.” She said, nervous he’d go after her father.

“Aye I remember him. A bit mouthy that one.” He said.

“You threatened him though. Why?” She asked, her nervousness turning to a bit of anger at the thought of him harming her parents, even if they weren’t the best.

“They wanted to report it to the coppers. And as you know now, we don’t deal too kindly with snitches. So I had to threaten him. To keep the peace.” He said, blowing a cloud of smoke towards her.

“I wouldn’t say peace. Fear would be a better word.” She said, sipping the last of her whiskey.

“It’s worked out for me so far.” He said.

“Yes it has Tommy...but I have one question.” She said.

“Mhmm?”

“Are you wanting to go to this bullshit wedding or not?” She asked bluntly, hoping her interrogation would be over soon.

“That depends. Are you going? You don’t seem too fond of your family.” He said.

“I’m only going out of love.” She said.

“Well in that case, I am too.” He said, jotting down the address to the ceremony on his calendar with a star on the day, his heart racing despite his cold exterior. He’d harbored feelings for her too, and Polly could see it, often questioning him when Y/N would leave for the night, but he always blew her off due to peaky business.

“Wait...you actually want to go to such a horrid thing...with me?” She asked.

“And pass up a date with my favorite secretary? Wouldn’t dream of it.” He said, a small smirk hinting at his lips which seemed almost out-of-place.

“Date? Are you sure this isn’t some small business deal? You aren’t just agreeing for money or to pity me?” She asked.

“No Y/N...I’m agreeing because I like you. Always have...just never had the time to tell you till now. Now go back to your work before Polly gets even more suspicious.” He said, admitting his feelings like it was nothing as she stood there dumbfounded.

“R-right.” She said sheepishly as she made her way back to her desk, a small smile on her face as Polly watched her. Knowing something had finally gone down between them.

A week into their newfound relationship, the day had finally come and Thomas escorted her inside the wedding chapel, her black dress complimenting his suit nicely. Her mother scoffing as she sat near her, wondering why the hell she’d wear a black dress to a wedding.

“You know black is for funerals...didn’t I teach you anything?” She asked quietly to where only Y/N could hear.

“I’m just marking the death of any peace that was left between this family. I know you both will start hounding me with questions in no time now that Margaret’s spoken for.” She said quietly, staring into her mother’s cold eyes. There’s always been a tension between them, but it seemed even a joyous occasion such as this couldn’t cut it.

“You alright love?” He asked, holding her hand in his as she stared blankly at the alter, waiting for the ceremony to start.

“It’s just my mother. She can’t put aside our differences for one fucking day.” She said quietly. Her mother leaning over to insert herself into the conversation.

“It’s nice meeting you Mr. Shelby. You’re more than welcome to sit with us at the reception.” Her mother said as she watched her daughter talk to the infamous blinder.

“Thank you Mrs. Y/L/N, we’d love to. Right Y/N?” He asked, squeezing her hand reassuringly.

“Love is one word for it I suppose.” She said, her jaw tensing as she saw her father approaching their seats.

“Glad to see you again Mr. Shelby, given this time it’s under better circumstances.” He said, shaking his hand firmly.

“Indeed it is Mr. Y/L/N.” He said, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket and sticking it between his lips.

Her father soon resigned himself from the tense situation by sitting near his wife, who was eyeing the dashing blinder who smoked where he pleased.

“Can you believe she’s dating him? They look like they’ve only just started.” She whispered to her husband.

“If I have to accept him for professional reasons, you can accept him for our daughter. Enough with the snide remarks. Our lives might as well be at stake if he were to hear us...his threat still stands.” He said, knowing that his youngest daughter and her mother always had a tense relationship since her birth. It wasn’t particularly successful, only saving them in the knick of time from complications. Little did he know he was more so the heart of the family, albeit a dysfunctional one.

“They’re talking about me I know it.” Y/N said, fidgeting with her hands as they waited for the ceremony to begin. Margaret taking more than her sweet time getting ready.

“Let them talk then. It can only hurt you if you let it.” He said.

“Now, she better be dressed to the nines because this is the longest I’ve ever waited for a wedding ceremony.” He added, seeing a smirk forming on her face.

“Oh just you wait.” She said jokingly. The music catching everyone’s attention as they all looked on, and surely enough she was dressed to the nines, the whole tailoring industry probably coming together to complete the lavish gown.

“What is this the royal fucking wedding?” She asked, hearing him chuckle quietly under his breath.

As Margaret neared the altar with her father handing her off with a kiss on the cheek, she took a look at her fiancé and then turned toward Y/N, giving her a small smirk that made her stomach churn.

“What was that for?” Thomas whispered quietly, noticing the interaction.

“She’s rubbing salt in an old wound. She’s as bad as my mother.” She said, flicking her off silently. Thomas quickly placed his hand over hers to stop her from escalating the already tense situation. Her mother giving her a scolding look that she ignored, her blood boiling with the fact she was flaunting her status in front of her.

It seemed like forever before the vows ended, the tired crowd clapping and dispersing after the couple ran happily out the door of the church and to the nearby reception. With Y/N and Thomas lagging behind, not wanting to enter the horrendous venue.

“We can leave the reception early if you’d like. Maybe go somewhere more entertaining.” He suggested as they watched the couple parade around the room. Her sister quickly bringing her husband over to where they were standing.

“Y/N, love I’m happy you made it! We were scared you weren’t going to show.” She said giving her younger sister a careful hug as not to disturb her dress.

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re my sister...I can’t exactly avoid you forever.” She said a small smile on her lips.

“You never told me you snagged such a......man. Where did you two meet?” She asked, shaking Thomas’ hand as her husband did the same. Margaret wary of the cold stare he gave her and Matthew.

“At work.” Y/N said shortly, not appreciating her attitude.

“Look at that, my baby sister finally has a job. What is it? A teacher? a factory worker? a nurse perhaps?” Margaret asked.

“A secretary.” Y/N said, staring the bride down the best she could hoping her gaze could silence her before she made a show of it all.

“A secretary? Hmm. Well that’s good I guess. Just be careful though, those secretaries have to sleep their way to the top you know.” She said. Y/N’s face burning as she turned away from Thomas, wanting to run out and never look back.

Thomas cleared his throat and put his hand on the small of her back as she tensed her jaw, reluctantly turning back to her snake of a sister.

“How would you know? Is that how you got to your position?” She snapped back, the anger rising in her chest. She wished she could have captured her sisters expression in a photograph, her words finally cutting into her like she wanted.

“I assure you she isn’t doing anything of the sort. In fact, she’s an integral part of the company already. But if I were you I wouldn’t say too much else.” Thomas said, a dark tone to his voice as he kept a level head between the sibling rivalry that was happening by the second.

“Oh and who are you to threaten me? What’s this company you speak of? My parents never mentioned it.” She said, her husband whispering in her ear that they had to go. The poor man hated the situation just as much as Y/N.

“That was probably to protect you Margaret. You see...you’ve always been a bit reckless with new information. So I doubt you knew what father got himself into.” Y/N said.

“What are you talking about?” She asked, grabbing a glass of expensive champagne as the server walked by.

“He got in my way...and no one gets in Thomas Shelby’s way. It cost me some of my men. So, like I said, if I were you...I wouldn’t say much else.” He threatened again, her fiancé swallowing hard as he led his flustered wife away to mingle with the other guests.

“Why can’t you both get along?” Her father asked, walking over to the pair.

“I’ve done my part with both her and mum. But...I’m not staying where I’m not valued. I love you all but, we have to go. Send Margaret and Matthew our....warmest regards, yeah?” She asked taking Thomas’ hand and leading him out the door. Her father stood there with a tense look on his face, knowing his family had gotten themselves on bad terms with the Shelby’s once again.

With frantic footsteps she walked to the car, tears flooding down her face as she got in herself, not bothering to wait for him to open the door.

“You didn’t have to stick up for me, but thank you.” She said wiping her tears away as he started the car.

“Yeah.” He said, lighting a cigarette before taking off. He wasn’t much for accepting thanks, at least since the war.

“Are they like that all time?” He asked after a long pause.

“Mhmm. Now you see why I don’t see them unless I have to. They just remind me of everything I’m not.” She said, looking out the window at the evening sky.

“That I do. I’ll be sending them something later, don’t worry.” He said.

“What do you mean?” She asked, her stomach dropping as she pictured him killing her family.

“You’re not going to kill them are you?” She asked.

“No...they’re not worth my time. At least not now anyway. And besides...I wouldn’t want to hurt you more than they already have.” He said, blowing a cloud of smoke from his lips.

“Tommy look, I know my father got in your way on a mission and I know he made you stay longer than you wanted to...but you can’t blame him for doing his job. He was trying to help. He may not be the best, although he’s far nicer than my mother and sister, so if anything, please spare him at least. That’s all I ask.” She said.

“Like I said, they’re not worth my time now, love. If they continue bashing you and my family for how we do business I’ll let you know first alright? But I can’t let them off without a warning, so I’ll send them a letter alright?” He said.

“Well it better be good then. That’s the last I want to hear of this feud. I can deliver it to them if it will help...to make a point at least.” She said.

“Take this then, it won’t be good.” He said giving her a handgun from his jacket.

“I’m not shooting my family Tommy!” She said loudly as they approached the Garrison.

“It’s not for them. It’s for you. They’re not the nicest people and I want you safe. Especially since you work for us now. If they hurt one of us they hurt all of us alright? I know that’s not what you want to hear but it’s how this business works. Now...let’s go have some fun aye.” He said, helping her out of the car and into the bar that was teeming with people from the shop.

“Oi! How’d the wedding go? You’re both home early.” Arthur asked, handing them both a glass of whiskey.

“Terrible. Tommy’s writing a letter tomorrow to put them on their toes.” She said.

“Did they say summin’ about ya?” He asked.

“Yes...and about the company.” Thomas added.

“I thought we told him last time that we’d blind him.” Arthur said, an angry look in his eyes.

“Aye we did. But that didn’t account for her mother and sister. They have a way with words don’t they love?” Thomas asked.

“Mhmm. I’m delivering it, maybe then they’ll take what they say more seriously next time.” She said.

“We can only hope.” Thomas said, snaking an arm around her waist as they spent the rest of the night at the Garrison before going to their respected homes, too worried about the mission to do anything else.

The next week, Thomas signed the end of the letter, his hand cramping from the amount of things he’d written. Wanting to make sure his threat came off clear as day.

“Here Tommy, put this in with it.” Y/N said, handing him a lone razor blade, making him raise an eyebrow.

“Just in case they want to make anymore remarks, they can do us a favor and blind themselves. Like you said, they’re not worth your time now.” She said with a small smirk.

He took a sip of his whiskey and pointed to her with a grin, ushering her to come over to him.

“I like how you think.” He said, pulling her close and kissing her lips ever so lightly. The feeling between them almost electric as they departed.

“I’ll go take care of this, you go on with your business.” She said, as he handed her the letter.

“You know how to shoot?” He asked.

“Mhmm. Been practicing with John.” She said with a smirk.

“Alright, love you.” He said, as he caught himself muttering those words out sooner than he wanted to. But the truth was he couldn’t stand to see her go, not without knowing she was safe.

She stood there for a moment, looking at him as a smile spread across her face.

“I love you too.” She said before walking out the door to drive to the dreaded house she grew up in. Hoping this letter would keep them at bay for once in her life. Knowing her only chance at freedom from her family’s binds were through the doors of the shop and in the arms of the man she loved.

Thomas Shelby Tag List:

@msbzowy, @nofckingfighting, @aranoburns, @sighonahurricane, @ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes, @gaytommyshelby, @wowjeena, @fifty-shadesof-tommyshelby, @inglourious-imagines, @thebloodyshelbys, @tsolomons, @blinder-secrets, @reveparade, @shelby-fanatic, @ta-ka-shi-ma, @psychkunox, @peakyxtommy, @captivatedbycillianmurphy,@dreamwastakenx, @lovemissyhoneybee @thomashelbyswhore, @xxbeckybeexx-blog

If you’d like to be added/removed, just send me an ask/message! :)

#peaky blinders #katiesanons #katiesrequests #katiesfics #katieswiplist #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x female!reader #thomas shelby x y/n

[zombiekillerky]

{Reassured} - Dream SMP Fanfic

(This is platonic, there are no relationships in this what’s so ever. Just a wholesome moment between Awesamdad and Tommy nothing more)

Tommy smiled as he walked down the path, trident in hand and his left over fence in the other underneath his arm. His lips parted as he whistled a small tune to himself with glee, already seeing Sam or Sam Nook as he liked to call him out of the corner of his eye. The blonde wouldn't admit it but he did enjoy doing these small tasks for Sam. The little adventures and chores so he could build his hotel for him. It was fun, especially since he could do whatever he pleased with no one to tell him to do so. Yet this felt right, it was his decision to do these things for him.  He felt as if it was making him more responsible even though they were such small tasks that Sam offered him. But no matter how small they were he felt as if he was helping and that was all that mattered. Sam made him felt like he mattered and that he was pitching in with everything that he was doing. Maybe Philza would realize that when they finished the hotel officially and it was open. Maybe he would actually be proud of him, but Tommy wasn't looking for achieve meant like that. He was looking for the big bucks in the end of this run, or so he hoped.

The blonde sighed as he slipped his trident on to his back where the holster was. An uneasy feeling of being alone washed over him, some things still stuck from exile he wished would go away. Like sometimes when he would go and complete his tasks alone he would get an uneasy feeling in his stomach. Knowing he had to have someone by his side or else he would start to get sick and not feel well enough to work. The blonde shook his head slightly as he made his way to the gates. Getting rid of this sickening feeling from his body and shoved it down below with in himself.

He quickly jumped over the wood gate without hesitation even though Sam told him not to or he would hurt himself. Successfully making it back to his friend in no time to spare, an achieved look on his face as he stood up next to him. Sam was taller then anyone on the server with a height of 7'4, even Ranboo wasn't as tall as him and he was half enderman which was super tall. (I know he said he was 6'2 but in canon he said 7'4 :p). But never the less Tommy wanted to stand tall up to him, feeling like it would make him look more tough compared to the quiet giant. Even though most likely half of the server was probably better at him in PVP. Especially The Blade he once lived with and called his roommate,

"I did it Sam Nook!, I placed the fence boundaries like you asked me to do. It actually wasn't that tough of a job to be fair besides that red gunk that keeps spreading" Tommy said quite loudly, watching Sam turn to meet his gaze as he finished organizing his inventory. He watched as a smile formed on his face, making Tommy feel like he did something good. He's not proud of you for what you did, it's nothing compared to what he has done. It would take a lot to impress him and you know it, you're just a thorn in his side like everyone else. Tommy shook his thoughts out of his head, choosing not to listen like he did to many people on this server to annoy them.

"That is very good, Now I have a new task for you as of now. I want you to place all of the fences in to the chest and the rest of the dirt blocks that I gave you. As well as those boots you have seemed to wear out already from your trident jumps you like to do so much." Tommy took a step back as soon as he heard the words place. It was almost like he heart stopped as he watched Sam's face. He didn't want to think of the past, he chose not to but no matter how stubborn he was it would always make it's way in to his mind. But why did it chose to haunt him like this so much. Sam noticed his uncomfortable look on his face and watched as he took a step away from him. Confused as to what he said to make Tommy look so afraid, was he holding something like a sword that would scare him. He wasn't sure what was wrong at first, confused as to what had happened to the boy in front of him.

After what Dream had told him when he visited him in the prison he has tried his hardest to help Tommy in any way. Feeling like he was his protector with how things have gone and how people treat him as of now. Tommy was his responsibility as he would like to say so he would do anything to make him feel welcomed. He could be a handful but he was a kid and deserved the benefit of the doubt sometimes that no one seemed to give the kids on  he server. Tommy ran his hand through his hair nervously as he laughed uncomfortably. The thoughts of what Dream did filled his mind of exile, at this rate he could draw blood from how hard he was biting his lip at the moment. Put your things in the hole Tommy, do it or I will kill you. You don't want to disobey me right Tommy, remember I AM your only friend. You Don't want to lose your only friend right, no one is there for you no matter what you think. You are a nothing

"I....uh yeah yeah give me a sec then...b-big man, I'll get r-right to it" Tommy said as he placed the fences down in front of Sam, taking off his boots as well before he took out his shovel. Tommy stuck it in the ground to the side of him as he took a step off the path. Confusing Sam completely as to what he was doing, he asked him to put it in the chest not in a hole. That's when the creeper hybrid realized what he was doing, feeling stupid to ask him such task in the first place. He should have worded it differently or said nothing at all. he knew there was going to be a challenge when making sure Tommy was okay, he just wished he would realize it easier.

Sam took a few steps forward and placed his hand on Tommy's shoulder to grab his attention. Tommy jumped forward and dropped his shovel as he covered his face in defense. The boy was shivering as he held his arms up in front of him. The creeper hybrid was sure he heard him muttering please don't hurt me and I promise i'll be good underneath his breath over and over But Sam only stood in front of him, making sure both of his hands were on his shoulders lightly so he wasn't showing he was a threat.

"I w-was just about done Sam, I'm s-sorry-"

"Tommy no no....I asked you to put them in the chest over there, not in a hole. Did you not hear me correctly Tom?" Sam asked calmly with a caring look on his face, taking his time when it came to calming the child in front of him. Tommy slowly parted the hands on his face to see him standing in front of him. What was Sam's plan, what did he want from him. He just seemed concerned, but no one ever is so why would he now. Sam's eyes watched over the young boy in front of him, noticing the water in the corners of Tommy's eyes as he seemed to be in thought. The creeper hybrid sighed softly as he wrapped his arms around the smaller mischievous boy in front of him. Feeling his tense shoulders slowly loosen to his touch as he quickly wrapped his arms around him in return for comfort. He felt so sorry for Tommy, wishing he would have known what had happened sooner. He would have gone and helped Tommy if he knew that's what Dream was doing to him all along. He would have built the prison sooner and put Dream in it himself even if it would have costed him one or two of his lives in return.

"I-I'm sorry Sam...I don't know w-what got a hold of me.... I just thought-" Tommy's voice cracked as he tried to hide all of his emotion. Failing miserably as Sam felt tears on his shirt as they remained in the hug. Sam rubbed slow circles in to Tommy's back to soothe him of his panic attack happening.

"Don't be sorry Tommy, you have done nothing wrong you hear me absolutely nothing alright...You shouldn't have to be sorry" Sam replied softly, hearing Tommy sniff to try and clear his throat. It seemed like they stayed like that for a long while, not even realizing that time had gone by. Tommy just really needed the comfort at the moment over anything, all these crazy things that have happened ever since he has gotten back. The stress has gotten to far to even handle especially after the close death of his best friend. Sam knew he would be there when ever Tommy needed him to be and he hoped Tommy knew that as well. The young blonde sighed as he pulled away from Sam in front of him. Feeling quite happy and reassured with what Sam has just proved to him. He hasn't had somebody show him that in a long time, of course Phil showed him love and comfort. Techno terrified him if he asked for a hug but he showed him strength, encouragement and complimented him from time to time. And Tubbo showed him friendship and gave him the time of day when he needed to talk. But this was different, Sam's intentions were different. He wasn't just choosing to deal with him because he was there, he was making sure that he was alright. He actually cared more then enough for his well being and wanted to see that he was fully alright with out any hesitation.

"You good?" Sam asked with a smile on his face, choosing to walk past this little episode like it didn't happen for Tommy's sake. But he reminded himself to watch what he says in the past from now on. Tommy smiled at the creeper hybrid in front of him, realizing what he was doing and decided to go along with it. Taking a deep breath and soon let it all out before nodding his head slowly.

"*sigh* Yeah...yeah I think I am, Now! Sam Nook what is the new task you have for me big man!" Tommy asked with with smile raising on his face, getting rid of the sad and anxious attitude he had previously. Sam smiled softly as he looked Tommy up and down to make sure this wasn't a show before replying.

"Well there has been a lot of weeds and unwanted structures that we need to have removed around the area in order for the build to progress like we want it to. They are disturbing the area but not as much as the red substance growing around quite recently"

"*groan* more digging are you serious!"

"Not just digging, mostly the removal of weeds will require digging. But destroying the structures will require other tools and materials depending on the tasks at hand" Sam replied as the both of them walked over toward the chests sitting in front of the big work sign where the hotel was supposed to be built. The creeper hybrid glanced over his shoulder at Tommy placing the fencing in to one of the chests. His facial expression told all that he was in thought at the moment since he was abnormally quiet.

"Can I sell these "weeds" we are talking about" He asked with a sly smirk on his face as he raised his eyebrow. Sam shook his head slightly upon hearing those words come out of his mouth. He was not even a little surprised as to what Tommy had said.

"No Tommy you may not sell these "weeds'"

"*sigh* fine, alright alright where do I begin then" pretending to be hurt be his reply.

"Well let's get you a new pair of boots and I'll show you where the first thing we need to take down is. Does that sound good with you?"

"Yes it does Big S....and Sam" Tommy said as Sam stopped walking, noticing he had stopped a couple of feet behind him. The creeper hybrid turned around to meet the young boys eyes, seeing an appreciative look on his face for some odd reason. Tommy glanced around slightly as he rubbed the back of his neck out of a nervous habit. His sky blue eyes locked with Sam's lime green orbs.

"Yes Tommy?" Sam asked, starting to get worried about Tommy since he wasn't speaking.

"....Thank you" Sam looked at him in confusion, never thinking he would hear those words com out of the young boys mouth. Tommy was never someone to say thank you, his ego couldn't be bruised. But no matter how puzzling it was it made Sam's heart melt. A warm grin appeared on his face as he looked at him. Hearing Tommy scoff as he continued to walk forward like he had said nothing. Sam rolled his eyes playfully as he walked beside him down the path over to the chest filled with the extra clothing items for a pair of new boots.

"It's no problem Tommy, I'm always here for you"

#awesamdude #awesamdad #awesamdude dsmp #dream smp awesamdude #awesamdude dream smp #tommyinnit #dream smp tommy #tommyinit fanfic #dream smp #dreamsmp fanfiction #dreamsmp fanfic #samnook #sam nook #dreamwastaken #Sleepybois #sleepy bois inc #sleepyboisinc #sleepy bois family #handsamdude #tommyinit mcyt #awesamdude mcyt #dream mcyt #techno dream smp #dream smp philza #awesamfam #dream smp au #dreamsmp angst

[kingexpl0sionmurder]

Missed Connection - Shinsou Hitoshi

Author: @kingexpl0sionmurder​ Rating: NSFW 18+ Warnings: Unprotected sex, blowjobs, dirty talk, poking fun at fakes who shop at UO and wear band t-shirts for bands they don’t listen to, terrible poetry, Kaminari is a weirdo. Pairing: Shinsou Hitoshi/F!Reader Words: 4,554 AN: This is for the bnharem server collab, the theme is pen pals! We were able to write basically anything as long as there was some kind of communication/writing/texting etc! This is the first time I’ve written for Shinsou and I head cannon him as a fucking closet goth so don’t at me. Collab Masterlist (Please go check out everyone else’s contributions!) My Masterlist Buy me a Ko-fi -- When his phone started ringing, Shinsou was tempted to throw it halfway across the room. Whoever thought it was okay to call him at - he turned to squint at the clock on his bedside table - 10 in the morning on his day off, better have a good excuse. He frowned at the screen once he’d found his phone, and sighed.

“The world better be on fire, Kaminari.” His palm rubbed over his face as he pressed the phone to his ear, his eyes closing again.

The blonde chuckled, full of energy as usual. “Aw, come on ‘Toshi! It’s not that early.”

A million ways he could kill his friend and make it look like an accident flashed through his mind. “You know I like to sleep late on my days off.” He left it at that, no further explanation needed. Kaminari knew he stayed up impossibly late on his off days, crawling under the covers only when the sun started to rise.

“You want to hear this, I promise. I wouldn’t call this early unless it was important.” Shinsou listened to the sound of a keyboard clicking through the phone, waiting impatiently for his friend to continue. 

“So, you know how I sometimes like to fuck around on the internet?” This was a rhetorical question. Of course he did. “Well, occasionally I like to browse through Craigslist, and this morning I was in the missed connections section, and I found something interesting.”

“Why do you look through missed connections?” He didn’t really care, he just thought it was kind of...weird. But, then again, this was Denki, so he shouldn’t have been surprised.

Kaminari huffed. “Dude, sometimes it’s so sad to read how they saw someone and thought there was a connection. It makes me wonder if they ever find each other.” He was quiet for a moment like he was deep in thought. “But then sometimes, it’s like ‘You farted in the produce section and I’d still date you, let’s go out’ and it kind of loses the romantic appeal.”

“You’re a sap. Also, gross.” He found himself drifting off, bored with the conversation already. “Do you have a point?”

“God, you’re impatient! Listen, I was scrolling through the ads and I found this one, I think you should hear it.” Clearing his throat, he began to read. 

“You were the sleepy purple-haired man in the cat cafe on Main, I was hiding behind an orange tabby by the window. I was staring, but I wasn’t trying to be creepy. You just looked kind of lost, and the black and white short hair on your lap seemed to have all your attention. Oh, I think his name is Socks. Isn’t that unoriginal? Anyway, I’ve seen you there a few times and I want to know more about you. If you see this, please respond.”

Shinsou sat up in his bed, ignoring the sharp pain of his muscles protesting at the sudden movement. “What the fuck?”

“This is about you, isn’t it?” Denki’s excitement was clear. “You’re the only sleepy guy with purple hair I know who frequents that cat cafe on Main Street.”

“How long ago was that posted?” Hitoshi felt strange, restless energy flowing through him. Someone had noticed him and decided that he was interesting enough to want to get to know? He wasn’t anything special, and he kept to himself mostly. What did this even mean?

“Last night! When did you go to the cafe?” He didn’t even wait for a response. “I’m forwarding this post to you, and you better send them an email! It’s been too long since you’ve dated someone, ‘Toshi, and I’m concerned.”

Unfortunately feeling more awake than he wanted to be, Shinsou shifted until his feet were on the floor. “Yesterday afternoon. And it hasn’t been that long.”

“It’s been like a year, dude.” Kaminari sighed. “Okay, I sent it. Please write back to them. Let me live vicariously through you in this weird turn of events.”

Shinsou sighed and said goodbye, ending the call and staring off into space for a minute. He needed coffee before he could even think about reading it for himself and then maybe responding.

--

Uh, hello.

 I can’t help but feel like this was about me? I’m not even really sure what to say. This feels weird. You could have come over and said hi, maybe. I don’t bite. I might have stared at you and made things awkward but I feel like it would have been a surefire way to talk to me instead of posting this on craigslist of all places and expecting me to see it. 

You’re lucky I have a friend who likes to scour the dark recesses of the internet for entertainment purposes and happened upon this post.

-Shinsou

--

How do I know this is really the person I’m talking about? What were you wearing when you went to the cafe? That’s like the only way I can be sure you are who you say you are. 

The only reason I didn’t come over and talk to you was that I had Oliver on my lap and he is a grump and didn’t want me to get up until he was good and ready. (That’s the orange tabby’s name, by the way.) By the time I was able to coax his fat ass off of me you had gone. 

Honestly, I’d let those cats climb all over me like their own personal cat tree all day long and not complain about it, but I digress. 

I didn’t expect you to find this or reply, it was kind of my way of convincing myself that I’d given it a shot, even though I really hadn’t done much.

-Y/N

--

I was wearing the following:

A Joy Division t-shirt depicting the cover of Unknown Pleasures, which is arguably the most cliche t-shirt I own. It’s become one of those shirts that people wear who have no idea who Joy Division is, they just like it for the aesthetic. (I’ll have you know I happen to know who they are and like their music very much.) This shirt was more than likely covered in cat hair.

Black jeans, which were probably covered in cat hair as well.

Black boots, a staple of mine.

I am a closet goth. I don’t know what else to say. I won’t deny it. I’ve learned to embrace who I am. I happen to know that Oliver is a grumpy shit, so I am not surprised he kept you pinned down for so long. That cat has been known to knock people over and purr loudly while “making biscuits” on their chests for hours at a time. I’m glad to know that you survived his assault.

So what are you going to tell me about yourself now? I have confessed to you about my goth status, so I demand something in return.

-Shinsou

--

Yeah, it was you.

I was hoping that you actually liked Joy Division and you weren’t one of those Urban Outfitters aesthetic people. I can now rest easy. I like them too, but I really like New Order more? I hope this isn’t the end of our budding friendship.

I will not say that I am a goth, though I have goth-like tendencies? Or I just appreciate the music. Whatever. I don’t have, like, a pet bat or anything. I own a pair of Doc’s, though.

I have been on the receiving end of one of Oliver’s attacks before, so you don’t have to tell me about them. I have experienced his pushy demeanor on more than one occasion.

So, something about me? I don’t know. I spend a lot of time in that cafe because I love cats, but that’s kind of a given, isn’t it? I usually bring my laptop and make an attempt to work on my homework, but it’s usually futile. I’d rather pet the cats. 

Oh, I guess that counts as something right? I go to college. I’m an English major and taking a fuck ton of creative writing courses. What about you?

-Y/N

--

An English major? That sounds like fun. I think if I had a need to go to college I’d have liked to take something like that. I have a friend who writes ultra depressing Gothic poetry, that would be right up his ally as well.

I’m a pro hero, hence why I didn’t need college. Saving people is something I’ve always wanted to do, especially since I was always bullied about my quirk as a kid. It kind of made me more determined, I always wanted to prove those assholes wrong, you know? So, here I am.

I’m glad to know we can wear matching Doc’s together, and that you don’t keep a bat as a pet. As cute as their faces are, they’re not very easily domesticated. 

New Order is fine. The real question is, The Smiths or The Cure? Your answer to this question will be what determines the longevity of our friendship.

-Shinsou

--

This is the worst question you could ever ask me. How could you do this? I could never choose between them. Both? The answer is both.

I hope your next email will not be your last.

Bats are cute but they always seem to dive bomb my head when they’re around. Not that I go places with bats often, but I used to go camping as a kid and they always did that. It was not a good time.

I think it’s amazing that you’re a pro hero! You’re really out here, fighting the bad guys and saving people and then coming into the cat cafe and petting kittens and drinking coffee like a normal person. I think it’s admirable how hard you worked to achieve your dream. I know we don’t know each other that well, but I’m proud of you. Why were you bullied for your quirk? You don’t have to answer that if it makes you uncomfortable.

I wish I could write ultra depressy Gothic poetry. Here let me try:

The night is black like my soul Clove cigarettes burn slowly My life is Meaningless

How was that? Do I get a gold star? Or a black skull? Which is appropriate?

-Y/N

--

I’m printing that and sending it to Tokoyami. Thank you for making my entire existence with that poem. I’m breaking out the red wax candles and putting on “How Soon Is Now?” right now.

You get a star, but it’s a pentagram. We have to keep with the theme.

My quirk has to do with mind control, so I was always told I was meant to be a villain. You can imagine what that could do to a kid’s psyche, being told by peers and adults alike that you weren’t hero material, when that’s all you wanted. It’s okay though, I did what I wanted and they can eat my ass.

Sorry if that was too raunchy, but it’s how I feel.

If my earlier comment wasn’t proof enough, I prefer The Smiths, but I cannot deny the impact of Disintegration. Lullaby is a really great song.

That being said, this will not be my last email, so you can breathe easy. 

On a semi serious note, I really enjoy talking with you. We have a similar sense of humor, and you like cats which makes you automatically better than most people. Would you like to get coffee sometime? I know a nice place that’s quiet and filled with fluffy kittens...

-Shinsou

—

I’m glad I haven’t lost your friendship due to my opinion. I know how important that feud can be to some people. People get very passionate about it. Kind of like with Blur versus Oasis, or Brand New versus Taking Back Sunday. I hate that these are the only examples I can think of. 

It wasn’t too raunchy. Those people can most definitely eat your ass. I’m glad you have decided to use your powers for good. You’ll have to explain to me how your quirk works sometime. 

I shall treasure my shiny pentagram sticker with my entire heart.

Isn’t Tokoyami the Jet Black Hero: Tsukuyomi? He looks like the type to write Gothic poetry. I am not even mildly surprised. 

Even though the way we met was unconventional, I’d like to think I’d have gotten up the courage to speak to you the next time I saw you in the cafe. Somehow this is better, though. It makes for an interesting story, you know?

I’d love to get coffee. I think I know the place you’re talking about. Let me know when.

-Y/N

—

Shinsou was nervous. It was stupid really. He’d been exchanging emails back and forth with you for a few days, and even though you’d barely revealed much about each other, the easy banter through your messages was comforting. He felt like the two of you would be compatible. He just hoped that he was able to keep the conversation going in real life. 

When he entered the cafe, he ordered his usual and picked his normal table towards the back. Socks, his favorite black and white companion, was at his side almost immediately. He let his hand drift down to scratch behind her ears, his gaze fixed on the door as he waited for you to arrive. 

Out of habit he was a little early, but he figured it would be easier this way. He had no idea what you looked like, but you knew him, so he knew you’d come over when you got there, and it would make things less awkward. 

A few minutes later he saw the door open, and he immediately knew it was you. Black Doc’s and thigh high stockings, a black skirt and an oversized deep red sweater adorned your body, a leather jacket over your shoulders and your hair tucked under a black beanie, cheeks pink from the chill of the autumn weather outside. You were pretty, and he felt his nerves increase tenfold when your eyes met his, a smile gracing your face. 

He watched as you ordered a drink at the counter, the paper cup clutched in your hands as you made your way to his table. He stood up when you approached, letting himself appreciate you up close. “Y/N?”

“Hi, Shinsou.” You were so much shorter than he was, and he found himself having to gaze down at you when he was standing at his full height. 

“It’s nice to put a face to all those emails.” The way you blushed under his attention made his heart flip. “Please, sit.”

You nodded, sliding into the seat across from him. He sat back down, his hands moving to grip his coffee cup. 

“This is kind of weird, isn’t it?” You looked down when Oliver made his way over, rubbing himself against your boot. “I almost feel like I don’t know what to say.”

“I know what you mean. We could just sit here and email each other, if that would make you feel better.” Your laugh was like music to his ears. “I’d rather hear your voice though.”

Your face was red when you looked back up at him. “I have to agree.” You leaned your elbow on the table, your cheek cradled in your palm. “Tell me more about yourself, Shinsou.”

“It’s Hitoshi. You can call me Hitoshi.”

—

If anyone would have told him that the night would end this way, he’d have said they were insane, and should probably get themselves checked into the nearest institution. 

But here he was, his face pressed into the spot where your neck and shoulder met, lips ghosting over soft skin, his calloused palms sliding underneath your sweater. You were purring, your head thrown back and your fists clenched in his t-shirt, your back pressed against the wall in the hallway that led to his bedroom. 

“Fuck, ‘Toshi.” You mumbled, pressing yourself closer to him. “Bed?”

You didn’t have to ask twice, his hands sliding down to lift you up by the backs of your thighs, his cock hard and straining in his jeans as you rutted against him. He turned himself and began walking toward his room blindly, his eyes still shut as he sucked a mark into your neck. 

He pulled back so he could peer over your shoulder and maneuver your bodies through the doorway without bumping into anything, laying you back on the bed. 

The events of the night were a blur, your coffee date turned into him taking you out for ramen at the restaurant down the street, and then he asked you back to his apartment to show you his record collection. 

It was mostly a ruse though. You’d been flirting back and forth, the both of you getting bolder as the night went on. He was only half surprised when you’d entered his apartment, barely removing shoes and coats and hats before you spun around on him, pressing him against the door and kissing him like your life depended on it.

He rested on his forearms, poised above you, looking over your flushed face and kiss bruised lips. Your legs wrapped around his waist and pulled his hips closer, making him groan. “Impatient?”

Your hands moved to cup his face, pulling him down toward you. “Very.” 

He wasn’t expecting your strength, caught off guard when your lips crashed into his, your body pushing him over until he was on his back and you were straddling him, knees on either side of his hips. You ground down against him, moaning when his hips snapped up reflexively. He was happy to give you control for a while, especially when you sat up and grabbed the bottom of your sweater and pulled it over your head. The view was spectacular.

He let his hands wander, tracing along the lines of your thigh highs from under your skirt, and up to the lace at your hips. Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, the devilish glint in your eye was not lost on his as you shifted down his body, fingers swiftly working to unclasp his belt and undo the button on his jeans. 

You slid off of him, and he lifted his hips to aid you in pulling his pants down his legs, his boxers following. His cock was achingly hard, the tip angry and red as it sprung free from it’s confines, nearly slapping his stomach. You eyed it greedily, and he was lost for words when you surged forward, delicate fingers wrapping around his length and stroking him, your tongue peeking out to taste him.

Amethyst eyes rolled back when you took the tip in your mouth, tongue swirling around the head, a low moan sounding from the back of your throat. The warmth and wetness that surrounded his cock when you closed your eyes and bobbed forward had him breathless, his hand threading through your hair, and his palm resting on the back of your head. He kept himself steady, fighting back the urge to buck his hips and push you down further on his length. 

Shinsou bit down on his lower lip, his stomach muscles tensing as he tried to keep it together. Kaminari had been right, it had been a while since he’d been with someone, and he wanted this night to last as long as possible. The sweet and innocent look in your eyes as you looked up at him through your lashes, your mouth enveloping him all the way to base, was nearly too much for him to handle, his hand tugging at your hair gently to pull you off of him. “I’m not going to last if you keep that up, kitten.”

You visibly shivered at the pet name and he grinned, loving the feeling of being able to invoke that reaction from you. He scooted forward when you sat back on your knees between his spread legs, his arms circling your torso as he worked at the clasp on your bra, pulling the straps down your arms when he unclipped it. Strong hands gripped your waist and moved you to the side as he stood up, reaching under your skirt to tug your panties down your legs.

He took a moment to consider what he’d do next. He wanted to taste you, it was only right for him to return the favor, and he was almost certain you would taste as sweet as you looked. Another part of him wanted to hike up your legs around his waist and slam inside of you, desperate to hear you moan his name as he pounded you into the mattress. As he contemplated what to do, reached back and pulled his shirt over his head, and then let his hands wander up to the apex of your thighs, digits sliding through your folds. You gasped, falling back onto your elbows, back arching as he toyed with your clit, letting his long fingers slip inside your heat. “So wet. Just for me?” Eyebrows raised, he teased you.

“Fuck, Hitoshi, please.” Breathless and panting, you gazed up at him, biting your lip.

“Please what? Tell me what you want.” You would make the decision for him. “Would you like my mouth or my cock? I’ll let you choose.”

Huffing, your hips rutted against his hand impatiently. He kneeled on the bed between your legs, adjusting his arm and adding a second finger in with the first, his thumb finding your bundle of nerves again. He listened to your breath hitch, and your quiet mewls, pride filling his chest that he was the one coaxing those noises out of you. Finally, you breathed deep and answered him. “Fuck me, Hitoshi.”

Ignoring the protesting whine that left your lips when he removed his fingers, he brought them up to his mouth, maintaining eye contact with you as he sucked on them, tasting you. “You’re delicious, kitten. I’ll have to make sure to taste you properly later.” 

Wasting no time, he lifted your legs up to rest your legs over his shoulders, one hand on his cock. He lined himself up with your entrance, grabbing at your hips and pushing himself inside you. If he thought your mouth was hot and wet and basically everything he thought was heaven, he was mistaken. This was it. This was everything. He wasn’t even inside you all the way and he was fighting back the need to cum again, cursing himself and breathing deeply. He leaned forward, forearms on either side of your head as his mouth crashed against yours, all lips and tongues and teeth, his need for you growing tenfold as you wiggled your hips in an attempt to feel more of him.

Groaning, he bucked forward, filling you up, the both of you sighing in relief at the feeling. He gave you a moment to adjust, lips moving down your jaw and tongue laving at the mark he’d left on your neck earlier. “You feel so good, kitten.”

“Toshi, you can move…” Your hands were gripping his biceps, nails leaving crescent shapes in his pale skin, breathing ragged as you clenched around him.

Hissing, he followed your instructions, hips pulling back until he was almost completely out, before sliding back in. Your arousal made the glide easy, your back arching underneath him. He started a steady rhythm, grunting quietly and letting the feeling of you pulsing around him keep him grounded. He let one of his hands wander, shifting his weight so he could ghost his palm over your side, fingers pinching your nipple and rolling the hardened bud between them. You keened, chanting his name like a prayer, the sound of blood pounding in his ears almost masking the sound.

It spurred him to move faster, his chest tight, sweat pooling at his temples and between his shoulder blades, purple locks sticking to his forehead. His gaze was locked on you, and it stole his breath. Your chest and neck were flushed, the most beautiful sounds spilling from your lips as he fucked into you. It became clear to him that he wasn’t going to last much longer, and neither were you.

“Hey, kitten. You gonna cum for me?” He shifted back to his knees and trailed the fingers on his left hand down your stomach, coming to rest between your parted legs. “I want to hear how pretty you sound when you come apart.” He kept a firm grip on your hip to keep you from sliding away, rolling his hips and rubbing tight circles on your clit. 

“Fuck, Hitoshi!” The effect was almost immediate, your body and lungs seizing, eyes rolling back as you fell over the edge, your cunt clenching around him like a vice. 

Falling back over you, his thrusts became sloppy as he chased his own release, barely able to move with how tight your pussy was gripping him, your orgasm still rolling through you. He felt your hands on his face, guiding him to kiss you again, fingers carding through his hair and down his back, your nails raking red trails down his back. He felt like he could barely breathe, lost in you. “Y/N…”

He felt his muscles tense, and moved to bury his face in your neck, his hips stilling as he came hard, filling you up with his release. You squeezed around him again, and he sighed into your skin, eyes closed as he tried to regulate his breathing.

Rolling over to the side, he hissed when he pulled out. You chuckled, and he turned to look at you, a lazy smile on his face. “What?”

“Is that what you call showing me your record collection?” 

Snorting, he propped his head up on his palm, leaning on his elbow, his free hand reaching out to push a piece of hair away from your face. “You attacked me, remember?”

“I couldn’t help it!” Protesting, you blushed. “I wanted to kiss you from the moment I walked into the cafe.”

It was his turn to blush. “Yeah?”

Shrugging, you turned on your side to face him. “Mm. Can you do me a favor?”

His body was still buzzing, muscles loose and pliant as he shuffled closer to you. “Anything.”

“Can you thank your friend for being a weird internet troll and finding my post?” 

Shinsou coughed a laugh, leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours. “Please, I can’t do that. It’s all he’d ever talk about for the rest of our lives if I did.” 

You leaned up and kissed him, your fingers pushing back his hair. 

He hummed against your lips, feeling content, shifting himself on the bed and wrapping his arms around your waist, tugging you into him. “Maybe I’ll send him a text later. For now, I have other plans.”

--

Kaminari’s phone buzzed on the coffee table, and he picked it up, eyes widening at the message that appeared on the screen.

Toshi: I owe you a crate full of Pokemon cards and my eternal gratitude for being a weirdo meme king who trolls the internet.

Denki: Oh, you’re in a good mood. Did you get laid?

Toshi: Fuck all the way off. 

Denki: That’s a yes. You’re welcome.

#shinsou hitoshi #shinso hitoshi #shinsou hitoshi x reader #shinso hitoshi x reader #bnharem collab #hitoshi shinsou #hitoshi shinso #hitoshi shinsou x reader #hitoshi shinso x reader #mha #mha x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #kingexpl0sionmurder writes #shinsou hitoshi smut #shinso hitoshi smut #bnha smut #mha smut #hitoshi shinsou smut #hitoshi shinso smut

[cake-writes]

Drift (Part One)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Story Warnings: Age Gap (not huge because Reader’s in her early 20s but it’s very present), slight DD/lg undertones (no D/s dynamics), Borderline Personality Disorder (Reader), Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (Bucky), Fluff, Slow Burn, Violence, Angst, Eventual 18+

Exerpt: It does feel kind of nice, having him look after you like this – having a more experienced agent take care of you. If you weren’t so completely fucked up right now, you’d be mortified. It’s your first mission, for one, and for two, you barely know him. Hell, you still call him Mr. Barnes, but here he is, saying honey and sweetheart to make you feel a little better.

A/N: my hand slipped 💀

You’re fresh. Green. Not yet a ‘real’ woman, but no longer a girl; somewhere in that topsy-turvy place in between where you’re still unsure of yourself and your purpose in life. You haven’t yet had the success that comes along in your twenties because you’ve been too wrapped up in your studies, too wrapped up in academic achievements to focus on other things. 

And because of that, you haven’t been exposed to real failure. Not really. Not yet.

A new recruit, straight out of the Academy. Top marks in all of your classes. Excellent in theory, untested in practice. Training only. It makes sense that you’re a prime candidate to poach for the compound, but you’re still so young.

Too young. Innocent. Incorruptible.

At first, anyway. It doesn’t last long.

Your first mission breaks you in – shatters your wrist and your confidence when you get a taste of real failure. It’s nothing like a bad grade on a test, nothing like the embarrassment of getting too drunk in public, but tangible, acrid, dark. The taste burns acidic on your tongue, a bitter contrast to those sweet childhood dreams you’ve been chasing since you were a little girl. 

Cotton candy justice.

Now you’re in limbo, drifting away with the chilly spring breeze. The stars shine brightly overhead, and you stare up at them, dazed and confused and no longer sure of your place in the world.

There’s the Southern Cross. How pretty. How unfamiliar.

What country are you in again?

Bucky swears low and rough over comms, but you hear his voice sound from a few yards away, too. You don’t bother to turn your head because he’s already at your side, kneeling down beside you, snapping his fingers in front of your sight line. “Come on. Hey. Look at me.”

Unfocused. Unresponsive.

The moon’s full tonight and so, so bright. You just can’t look away.

“Shit,” he swears again, a little louder this time. “Agent down. Conscious but unresponsive.” A brief pause as he checks for a pulse on the dead body at your feet. “She already took out our target.”

“Looks like the new girl’s got some skills,” comes Sam’s wry joke crackling in your earpiece. “Headed your way with evac.”

You want to laugh, but all you can focus on is the coppery tang of blood in your nostrils. It’s not yours. You shot the target of this mission at point blank, but not before he snapped your wrist like a twig trying to wrestle your handgun from you. Not before two accidental discharges very nearly cut through your abdomen. Not before he slammed you to the ground – slammed the back of your head into the pavement.

The memory makes you shiver. Or maybe it’s the breeze.

Bucky’s hand comes to rest on the side of your face, then, to offer some semblance of warmth, and your eyelids flutter shut. He feels good. He feels warm.

“Hurry up,” Bucky orders, but he sounds a little more distant, now. “She’s in rough shape.”

Sam says something else on comms, and you don’t quite understand the words anymore. They sound blurry, almost like you’re underwater. 

You’re drifting along, drifting away—

Until Bucky jars you awake with a startling pat to your cheek.

“Hey.” Sharp words draw you back into the present, but they hold none of the bite he uses when addressing Sam. “I need you to stay awake for me.”

A groan bubbles forth from your lips when you somehow manage to pry your eyelids open again. It’s probably the hardest thing you’ve ever done. Your entire body is begging for you to sleep, to rest, to never wake up again.

“Oh, sweetheart, I know,” Bucky murmurs, voice soft with sympathy, smoothing his thumb over your cheekbone. “I know you’re tired. Does anything hurt?”

You mumble something indecipherable; it’s meant to be a ‘no,’ but that’s not how it comes out. Pupils dilate further over half-lidded eyes as you stare up into sudden blackness.

What happened to the stars? What happened to the moon?

With a grunt, you try to move— try to push yourself up in a panic.

Something’s wrong. What happened to the sky?

A whimper escapes your throat when you put pressure on your broken wrist, but Bucky’s quick to put a stop to any unnecessary movements. 

“You’re okay,” he soothes, easing you back down onto the ground and the cold, coarse gravel digs uncomfortably into your back. “You’re doing great. Just stay still, okay?”

“I can’t—” Things are starting to feel a little less blurry, now.  “The stars—”

A gasp for air. A stuttered breath. 

Panic.

“Breathe,” Bucky reminds you, but when your breathing only goes shallower, he adds gently, “Here. With me.”

His deep breath prompts your own, and after a couple of seconds, he exhales. You can’t help but follow suit, because his presence just commands you to listen. Gentle authority. Another breath and you follow along again, and again, until you’re not hyperventilating anymore. 

You don’t know how long it takes, but it’s like magic. 

Only when you’re sufficiently calmed down does he try for an answer. “What about the stars?”

You’d almost forgotten.

So you blink your eyes open again in search of the night sky, but everything’s still dark.

Panic starts to set in again, and in a fit of desperation, you reach your hand out for something, anything tangible to grasp onto. It’s the one with unshattered bones and unshattered hope, extending towards the sky like you can just turn the lights back on with a switch on the wall.

You can’t. It hurts.

Another breath. In. Out. 

It’s not so calming this time.

Bucky takes that same hand into his and brings it to his chest, where you can feel his steady heartbeat under your palm. It’s soothing. It’s grounding.

It’s not enough.

“I can’t see,” you finally manage in a delicate rasp. “I can’t see anything.”

Bucky’s grip tightens just slightly, and then he’s on comms again. “Damn it, Wilson, still waiting on that evac—”

“Am I— Am I dying?” you ask quietly, and you hear the sound of your own voice in your ear echo through Bucky’s open mic. You don’t sound like yourself at all, but fragile, scared, broken. Like a child. Like a little girl, and that’s exactly how you feel. A sob finally escapes. “I’m— I’m scared, Mr. Barnes—”

“You’re gonna be just fine,” he reassures you, gently, leaning forward to cup your cheek with his free hand. “You’ve got a concussion. Can you remember your training?”

Think back to the Academy. 

Thinking makes your head hurt, though, and you wince. 

Vision loss is a symptom. Memory loss. Drowsiness. Headache.

You let out another whimper, then, as the splitting pain finally makes an appearance; it spreads like wildfire from the back of your head through the rest of your skull, a searing headache that makes your wrist feel like nothing in comparison. Even the memory stings. 

Comms crackles to life again – Sam’s just a couple minutes out, now. “Keep her comfortable,” he instructs. No jokes this time.

As if you could be comfortable—

“Screw you,” you groan in agony, but Bucky’s words echo back: You’re gonna be just fine.

“Let me have a look, okay?”

Bucky’s voice is still so soothing, almost like a velvet blanket lulling you to sleep, and you can’t help but make a sound in the affirmative. He’ll take care of you. It hurts, but you’re not alone.

That’s when he releases you to gently palpate your scalp. It hurts to move, and your arm goes limp without his support; your fingers quickly ball in the fabric of his shirt to keep your hand where it belongs. And then they tighten further, when he locates the very obvious goose egg at the back of your skull.

“There it is,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, but he follows it with, “Don’t worry. We’ll get you out of here soon.”

“But it hurts—”

“I know.” He slowly starts to stroke your hair, meant to distract, to comfort, and it’s effective. “The adrenaline’s worn off, honey. It’s gonna hurt.”

It does feel nice, having him look after you like this – having a more experienced agent take care of you. If you weren’t so completely fucked up right now, you’d be mortified. It’s your first mission, for one, and for two, you barely know him. Hell, you still call him Mr. Barnes, and here he is, saying honey and sweetheart to make you feel a little better. 

You can’t deny that it’s working when you find yourself leaning into his touch.  It still hurts, but this is... tolerable. It might even be nice. 

Just a little.

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” you mumble.

He stills for a moment, but at your insistent tug on his shirt, he continues to stroke your hair – and you sigh.

“Oh... That feels nice.”

It’s a good distraction from the awful pain, too.

“Must not be hurting too bad anymore if you’re making jokes,” he comments after a beat, but he doesn’t stop again. Instead, the next little while passes in near-silence – a pained whine here, a comforting, “shh,” there, until your evac finally arrives.

“What the hell, man,” Sam says in annoyance as he straps you down to a board. “’Rough shape’ my ass. She looks like she got hit by a train.”

“I can still hear you,” you chide, “and I think I look pretty good.”

Another joke, because they both know you can’t see.

Sam snorts. “That’s a good sense of humour, new girl. Don’t lose it.”

The straps stop coming, then, and you tense up in alarm when you don’t know what’s happening – at least until Bucky speaks softly into your ear, “You’re gonna have to let me go now, sweetheart.”

It’s whisper-soft – secretive, almost – and you realize, then, that you’re still holding onto his shirt. You’re too young, too green, so much that you’re holding onto him like a lifeline. 

That’s when the mortification sets in.

Your grip immediately goes slack, and the heat rushing to your face spurs on an even worse headache as the two of them load you onto the Quinjet. The only thing that keeps you awake this time is the stupid banter between them – but knowing Bucky is there is what makes you feel like everything’s going to be alright.

Part Two

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes

[taexual]

i’d love you to stay but that’s simply insane // JJK (13)

   jungkook is an uncontrollable lead vocalist of the campus band, and you’re a goal-oriented top student that’s known his rich and complicated family since childhood. you don’t want anything to do with each other, until each other is exactly what you want to do.

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: college au

warnings: angst, years of longing escalating into something serious

words: 8.6k (send help)

   chapter thirteen

The lamp posts on the street illuminated Jungkook’s face with a warm yellow haze as the two of you walked back to your dormitory, the noise of the party – and the argument you’d had outside of it – already behind you. You didn’t dare to watch him for longer than just a split-second but you could feel his eyes on you when he thought you were too focused on the pavement to notice.

You hadn’t said a word to each other since you left the front yard of his house – and that was already two and a half blocks away – and both of you were busy worrying what the right way to say goodbye once you reached your dorm was. A wave didn’t feel enough but a hug seemed inappropriate after the intense conversation you’d had.

Clearing his throat, Jungkook volunteered to make your trip less awkward.

“Were you actually going to have me arrested?” he asked, recalling your previous threat with surprising clarity – probably because it had impressed him so much.

You sighed, recognizing the amusement on his features – no matter how hard he tried to play it off as simple curiosity – and then said, “no, probably not. That would have only ruined your whole plan and your future—”

“I already have a record,” he pointed out. He said it like that was supposed to make you feel better – it’s totally fine if you get me arrested, you know – but you almost stopped walking in surprise.

“Y-you do?” you asked, unable to fathom how a family as rich as his could not find a way to ensure their beloved son remained a flawless citizen.

“It’s not the first time I got into a fight,” he explained simply and, if you hadn’t known the truth, you’d have thought he really was just your usual troublemaker with no strong backing from his relatives whatsoever. “Some of those fights were more public than others.”

“And your dad—?”

“He took care of it to the best of his ability,” Jungkook admitted, sounding far less dignified than when he mentioned he had a record – as if that was something to be proud of. “But he can only do so much without staining his own reputation. It’s just a few misdemeanors anyway, so he decided it wasn’t worth it. If it proved to be a problem later on, he thought he could just blame it on my youth.”

You chose not to voice it – to avoid an argument that would certainly arise because that was just how Jungkook was – but you couldn’t help thinking that his father’s reasoning was actually different. Maybe he chose not to cover Jungkook’s previous arrest up to teach him a lesson.

“Does that bother you?” you asked instead.

“What?

“That he didn’t put enough work to cover this up.”

Jungkook looked down. All of your questions about his feelings, his wishes, his ambitions were so unusual to him that he didn’t even know what the proper way of answering them was, because you looked like you genuinely wanted to know. You didn’t ask just to be polite.

“No,” he ended up saying, “I didn’t want him to cover it up. And it’s not like I acted out to get his attention, or anything. He seemed really tired of it all when he had to deal with that. You know he’s usually the sort who gets his frustrations out vocally?”

“Yeah,” you said.

“Well, when he picked me up from the police station, he didn’t say a word,” Jungkook said. “It was like I’d unlocked a new level of disappointment – one I’d never seen before – where he was just quietly fuming. Or just… so disappointed, he couldn’t even begin to find words.”

You felt jittery. It was hard to walk when your legs kept trying to bounce nervously, hoping to rid you of the excessive anxiety.

“I never knew this,” you said.

Jungkook gave you a smile that wasn’t supposed to seem sad but, because it was purposefully meant to conceal his despair, sad was exactly what it seemed like.

“My mom didn’t tell yours,” he said.

“But they tell each other everything,” you felt the need to point out but you could feel your own naivety getting the best of you – even the people, who had no secrets, had secrets.

“Yeah, I know,” Jungkook replied. “But I don’t think my mom would have had it in her to brag to her best friend – with a straight-A student for a daughter – that her son got arrested. She may have been less obvious than my dad, but she was still just as disappointed.”

Your heart clenched uncomfortably when he mentioned your scholarly achievements and, for a brief moment, you almost felt bad for being such a good student when he was struggling to be a good person.

But you didn’t think now was the time to feel bad about yourself – especially since there wasn’t anything you should have felt bad about in the first place – and you eyed Jungkook carefully before finally daring to ask, “did they ever say they were disappointed in you?”

“They don’t have to say it, it’s plain and obvi—”

“No, but maybe that’s just you assuming things,” you interrupted. Your mind conjured up a thousand scenarios of how this conversation could have gone wrong, but your mouth kept moving, “you have that right. I mean, they have been disappointed in you plenty of times before. But maybe this time they weren’t. Maybe they were just scared for you.”

Jungkook looked at you and he wanted to believe that you were basing your speculations on some legitimate evidence that he’d missed, instead of just hoping that this was true. But he’s known his parents long enough to recognize their defeat.

“Why would they be scared?” he questioned rhetorically. “I know how to throw a punch.”

“Well, maybe that’s why,” you said.

“No, that’s not it,” he said firmly. “They don’t get scared when I get into fights. They get  frustrated, like how did I dare to do that? And then do that again. And again. Maybe they also get confused: I am their son and yet they can’t explain why I am this way.”

He said it like he was diseased – like lacking proper conflict-resolution skills and being impulsive was an illness he’d inherited from someone and, since no one else in his family was sick, that had to mean he didn’t belong there. He belonged somewhere else.

And every time he did something that did not fit into the frame of acceptable behavior in his family’s eyes, it just reminded them that he was the black sheep in a herd of white ones. How did he get here?

“It’s not just you,” you said, your heart hurting. No matter if his parents were really disappointed in him or if they were just worried for him, no child should ever feel like he didn’t belong at home. “Kids from close, loving families rarely grow up to be impulsive or, well, aggressive.”

He clenched his jaw after you said this and that was when you knew that, despite feeling shunned for not being the son his parents had wanted, Jungkook was still their son. They were still his parents.

“I was always like this,” he declared. “From the day I was born. You know that. The relationship with my family hardly changed anything.”

You wondered if he was aware he was defending his family – the family that constantly hurt him with their expectations – by shifting all blame to himself.

“They could have worked as a preventative measu—”

“How, exactly? Remember the time I gave three kids from my pre-school class bloody noses?” he said to prove his point. “Because one of them mocked my drawing of a giraffe and the other two laughed.”

“I-I remember—” you struggled to find a word, “that. It’s not an acceptable way to solve conflict. If they’d taught you that—”

“Acceptability is subjective,” he snapped.

“Uh, sure,” you said and then stopped to wonder if you had the right to draw these conclusions about him.

You thought that, if only Jungkook had gotten more love from the people who were most responsible to love him, he may have grown up to be different – but saying that out loud would have made you sound far too condescending and it would have made a normal person feel uneasy.

Someone who was as arrogant as Jungkook was bound to get riled up – he was already defensive enough as it was – and, maybe, rightfully so. He wasn’t telling you about his family to have you psychoanalyze him. He was just talking to you.

“I-I guess there are other factors that determine how a person chooses to react to something,” you said, threading more carefully now. “For example, you let your testosterone make your decisions for you.”

The sudden transition to biology confused him as he turned to look at you with furrowed eyebrows. “My testosterone?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “It’s obviously your uncontrollable hormones that get you in these situations in the first place. You’re like a twelve-year-old boy, unsure what to do with himself, so you just go with whatever your instincts tell you.”

“Fourteen-year-old boy,” he corrected.

You shrugged. “What’s the difference?”

“The difference is I was fourteen when we stopped being friends.”

That only confused your further. “What does that have to do with—”

“Maybe you were the preventative measure that my family was supposed to be for me,” Jungkook said, the words pouring out as smoothly and elegantly as the floating of your skirt in the windy night. He chuckled humorlessly as he finished, “and then I lost that – the only positive influence in my life.”

You wanted to tell him that he never lost you. That he tried to rid himself of you, he tried to walk away – but he never lost you. No matter how much you wanted to detach yourself from him, to walk away, to move on – he never lost you.

And, more than that, you wanted to ask him why that happened – to demand why he walked away – but allowing him to shift the focus to your relationship would have been selfish. This wasn’t about you-and-him right now. This was about you and him.

Because you were here. You were always here. But Jungkook wasn’t – not always. Often, he fell out of touch with himself completely. And if there was no him, there could never be you-and-him.

“You… you need to be the positive influence in your life,” you said instead, advocating for independence when all you wanted was for him to let you hold his hand so he was steadier on his feet. “You can’t rely on others to get you out of the messes you create all the time.”

“I know,” Jungkook said but he no longer felt like discussing the reasons for his behavior, because every reason eventually led back to you – and when he thought of you, he couldn’t think of anything else. “But I never learned how to take care of myself, did I?”

“No, you never did,” you agreed and then, watching him smile appreciatively – you rarely ever agreed with him – you continued more playfully, “maybe it’s time you started learning, you big baby.”

He laughed and even the wind stopped to listen.

“Maybe,” he said then, the same pathetic hopeful tone that was in your voice before, now evident in his, “I do have you to help me again, don’t I?”

You do, you wanted to say, you’ve always had me. But you only smiled.

“I can’t be the one to handle your conflicts for you,” you said instead. “You have to learn how to do that yourself. How to do that responsibly. I can just… be there for you.”

And, much to the joy of your body that was aching to support him, he smiled and said, “that’s more than enough.”

“Okay,” you swallowed. You felt relieved suddenly – like the tension that surrounded you since you left the party had finally dissipated – and, paradoxically, nervous. Like you didn’t know how to act anymore.

Jungkook didn’t seem to notice that, however, as he teased, “support me even when I inevitably fuck up again, though, yeah?”

You raised your eyebrows, countering his lively pout.

“That’s not a very good attitude,” you said. “How do you expect to change if you’re setting yourself up for failure from the get-go?”

He shrugged. “By a miracle?”

“Jungkook.”

“Come on. I have you rooting for me. I won’t let you down,” he assured you and then, carelessly throwing his arm around your shoulders, added, “I am a great actor. I just have to start playing a responsible role.”

“It’s your father you’re supposed to prove your responsibility to, not me,” you reminded him – just like he’d reminded you a few days ago in your dorm room – although your skin was burning from his touch. “But I’m hoping that by pretending to be responsible, you’ll actually learn a thing or two and prove yourself to us both.”

Jungkook looked at you – his face so close and so welcoming – and said, in the most laid-back fashion that was possible for someone who’d just crossed half the campus while analyzing his childhood issues, “you’re very preachy when you’re drunk.”

It felt like you’d left the party years ago as you said, “I don’t feel drunk anymore.”

“Oh, well. That doesn’t surprise me then.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” he leaned his head against yours and the touch of your temples was electrifying -- like shock therapy that numbed every one of your senses except the ones that consumed his close presence. “I’ve missed your lectures.”

You doubted that but your voice didn’t sound convincing when you spoke – he probably wouldn’t have even heard you if he wasn’t so close, “have you, really?”

“Hmm,” he purred and your pulse nearly flat-lined. “I’ve missed everything about you.”

If you two weren’t walking so close to each other, if he didn’t have his arm around your shoulders, if his head wasn’t pressed against yours – then maybe his words wouldn’t have strummed the strings of your heart so terribly and so delightfully. Maybe you wouldn’t have forgotten all about the seven-year-long silence when you heard the song his words played for you.

But you were walking so close to each other – so close, in fact, that a passerby wouldn’t have been able to tell where your body ended and his began; you shared a silhouette.

And he did have his arm around your shoulders – pulling you closer to him while making sure you were steady on your feet even if his own balance was off.

And his head was pressed against yours – so gently and yet so naturally, it was as if there were magnets inside your skulls and they literally pulled you to one another.

And, thus, when you reached the door of your dorm room, you could not imagine yourself saying goodbye. You couldn’t imagine watching him walk away.

“Are you coming in?” you asked as Jungkook waited a few steps away, unsure how to behave now that the moment-at-the-end-of-the-night had arrived.

“I thought you said you felt like going to sleep,” he said perhaps a little awkwardly.

“I do,” you said and maybe you were still drunk without realizing it but you felt bold enough to add, “but I also feel like spending time with you in a place where... we don’t have to worry about what other people think. Not to mention, your wound needs to be taken a look at.”

“My wound?” his bruised cheekbones had completely escaped his mind. “Oh, that—it’s nothing. I’m fine.”

“At least, let me put a band-aid on it,” you asked.

“And cover up my beautiful face?” he scoffed, using his favorite strategy of dealing with problems – deflection. “No.”

You sighed. “It won’t be beautiful if it scars.”

“Are you kidding?” he still didn’t give in, bringing a hand down the side of his own face and clenching his teeth so you wouldn’t see him wince when he touched the wound. “It’ll make me look badass.”

“You’re a baby,” you declared and then ordered, “come inside.”

“Not if you’re going to be pulling your medical equipment out on me—”

Groaning, you cut him off with a reluctant – but irritated – promise, “I won’t. Now, come in.”

“Are you sure?” Jungkook checked again but he was already reaching for the door that you kept open for him.

“Yes,” you said.

He still hesitated. “Because you don’t have to—”

His uncertainty did terrible things to your boldness – it seemed to vanish with every moment that he did not enter your room.

“Look, if you’d rather get back to the party,” you said, “and drink some more of Taehyung’s painfully unbearable drinks, then, by all means, go—”

“No,” he cut in sharply – maybe too sharply – and then, just to be sure you understood why he cut you off, he said, “I’d rather be with you.”

“Well, come inside, then,” you said and, because you were nervous, you felt the need to add, “but I can’t promise to be more entertaining than absinthe.”

He snickered, finally walking past your doorway. “Oh, you have a far bigger effect on me than absinthe.”

He stopped to take his shoes off. You stopped to lock the door.

The hallway of your dorm-room was very small for two people but, locked away from the rest of the world, you suddenly felt like you were home. Like there was nothing to be nervous about here. Like you were back with your best friend that you’d known for decades.

“Ah,” you started to say because you were back with your best friend that you’d known for decades, “so it burns your throat when you get in contact with me and you feel sick every time you look at me?”

“That’s—” Jungkook paused, one sneaker off. He raised his eyes to look at you. “You really hate it that much, huh?”

“It’s a rational feeling,” you said, unbuckling the strap of your own shoes. “Absinthe is not meant to be enjoyable.”

“Well, if we’d stayed longer, you would have seen what my bandmates do with it,” Jungkook said. “It involves a cube of sugar and a whole lot of cursing because their hands shake too much to do anything.”

He hadn’t realized just how hypnotizing it could be to watch someone take off their shoes so, when you finally placed your shoes on the floor, your feet aching from the torture you’d put them through tonight, he was still staring at your legs.

You cleared your throat, somewhat self-conscious now. “I’m, uh—I’m a little intrigued.”

This got him to lift his eyes to your face. “Oh? So… does that mean there’s a little possibility you’ll go to the party with me again next week?”

“Next week,” you repeated, realizing that this was Parental Advisory’s routine: parties every Friday, hangovers every Saturday. You turned around with a soft sigh and headed into the bedroom, plopping down on your bed. “I didn’t sign up for that.”

Jungkook chuckled, sitting down on the bed next to you.

“You don’t have to come,” he said, keeping respectful distance from you – because you weren’t walking across campus anymore, now you were on a bed – but still remaining close enough to hear your faint breathing. “I was just kidding. We can stay here.”

You looked at him. “No.”

“No?” he repeated, his voice breaking in surprise. “Okay, then. We don’t have to do anything togeth—”

“No, I just mean—you like that,” you clarified before his stomach could drop any lower. “You enjoy partying, hanging out with people, drinking, dancing, and all that. I don’t want you to give that up to hang out with me here.”

You were saying you didn’t want to bore him. You were saying you didn’t want him to overstep the boundaries of your fake relationship.

He’d never heard you say something so stupid before and he didn’t realize that it was his own words that got you to feel this uncertain.

“I’m not giving anything up,” he said because, apparently, even the smartest people sometimes needed to have it spelled out for them. “I do enjoy that but I also enjoy spending time with you.”

In your defense, it wasn’t spelling out that you needed. It was reassurance.

“We haven’t done that since we were… well, in middle school,” you pointed out and your last words were an incantation of a silence spell that prevented you from saying anything else for the next few minutes.

This time was no exception, as both of you shared a thoughtful moment, avoiding each other’s eyes, and then Jungkook clapped his palms on his knees, nodding his head in the direction of your laptop on the desk across the room.

The spell was broken. You weren’t going to speak of that day. Not today.

“Well, come on, then,” he said. “We have a lot of catching up to do, it’s been seven years. Show me the movies I’ve missed.”

“Lots of movies came out in seven years,” you replied but got up from the bed to get your computer nevertheless.

“Well,” Jungkook said, dramatically extending his arm to check the non-existent watch on his wrist. “We’ve got a long night ahead of us.”

You sat back down, smiling at his antics, and pulling up your Videos folder. You scanned it briefly, trying to pick one movie that would leave a long-lasting impression on him – even though you couldn’t explain why you wanted to impress him.

“Don’t think about it,” he suggested. “Just choose the first one. We’ll watch them all.”

You scoffed. “There’s not a chance in hell you’ll stay awake through more than one movie.”

“You want to bet?” he countered, knowing your taste in movies too well. “After the movie you’ll choose, I’m sure I won’t be able to sleep for a week.”

You rolled your eyes as you smiled – he’d never grown to like horror movies as much as you did – and teased, “don’t be a baby.”

“I can’t,” he pouted on purpose, hoping for more of your sympathy and not knowing that he already had all of it. “I scare easily.”

“You don’t,” you said. “You just get distracted all the time and everything catches you unprepared.”

“That’s the same thing,” he insisted.

Sighing as you finally settled on the movie, you gave him a look. “Just try not to fall asleep on me, okay?”

“Do you mean that literally or—”

“I mean it in every sense of the word,” you replied. “If you start snoring during my favorite part, I might not be able to forgive you.”

“So strict about snoring,” he said, a mocking grin on his lips.

“I am,” you replied, completely serious. “So, now that we’ve established that—”

“We established that in second grade,” he reminded you, “when you tried to suffocate me with a pillow during our sleepover.”

“I…” you started to say but the memory was too unexpected and overwhelming – and he didn’t remember it correctly. “I tried to get you to stop snoring!”

“By putting a pillow on my face!”

“Nothing else worked!”

“You could have kicked me!”

“I did!” you said. “Several times. My feet bruised.”

He rolled his eyes, adamant to prove your murderous tendencies. “Oh, please.”

You shook your head, the argument so pointless and unnecessary that you chose to opt for a compromise. “Let’s hope that doesn’t happen tonight, alright?”

“It won’t,” he assured you, “I stopped snoring after that incident. I guess, you could say I haven’t recovered from that trauma. I’m constantly afraid someone’s going to try to use a pillow on me—”

“I wasn’t trying to do that!” you said with a groan and when he opened his mouth to protest again, you cut in quickly, “drop this or I really will suffocate you with a pillow.”

He closed his mouth again and then nodded, impressed.

“Still very strict about snoring,” he corrected his earlier statement. “I’ll keep my breathing in check.”

You finger lingered on the mouse button, ready to play the movie you’d picked, but your mind lingered on the memory he’d brought back and all the other memories that came with it. It’s already been a long night, full of reminiscing, discussing, and analyzing. 

But you couldn’t resist it.

You’d wanted to know for so long – even if there was nothing to know and it was something that just happened as things sometimes did – that even the late hour couldn’t stop you.

You didn’t want closure. Seven years have gone by – you didn’t want it.

You needed it.

“Can I ask you something?” you started, swallowing slowly.

“Of course,” Jungkook said, unsure why your face had clouded all of a sudden.

“It’s been seven years,” you said and the thunderclouds started to make sense. “Why did you talk to me that night at the party?”

The question was so loaded, he probably wouldn’t have been able to answer it without reflecting on his entire life. But right now, after the night he’d had, you managed to catch him off guard and his mind was void of any answer that made sense.

“Because you were there,” he said because that was the simplest way of explaining it.

You needed more. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve…” he shifted his weight to his side until he was half-laying on your bed, his left shoulder pressed into the corner where your bed met the wall. His body was facing you but his eyes were on your hands, “I’ve wanted to talk to you for a very long time. Actually, since the day I told you we shouldn’t be talking anymore,” he paused here. He never learned how to talk about that without pausing. “Not a clever decision on my part.”

“Mm, no, not really,” you felt the bitterness in your voice as you said this but you didn’t try to justify it – and Jungkook didn’t need you to.

“Yeah,” he only nodded. “So, I don’t know. I saw an opportunity to talk to you again – and I was drunk, and sort of on a post-show high – so I took it.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it,” he confirmed but it sounded like only one half of an answer that you needed. Jungkook didn’t know how to explain the other half and he naively hoped he wouldn’t have to. “Timing, right?”

You weren’t sure if that was right. He could tell.

“You deserve a better answer,” he acknowledged, sighing heavily, “but I don’t want to lie and make up stories about how I’d been—I don’t know—bracing myself to talk to you for a long time, how I planned it all out, because that’s not true. I did want to talk to you, I’ve wanted to every day, but I probably never would have. Not if I wouldn’t have seen you right then and there, in front of me.”

“Why not?”

“I didn’t think I was in any position to seek you out,” he replied, “and, actually, I sort of got the feeling that you weren’t that excited to see me, either. Every time I saw you on campus, I’d blink, and you’d be on the other side of the street, already far away from me.”

Fair enough, you weren’t entirely blameless in this, either, you decided, and then admitted, “yeah. Maybe I was avoiding you a little.”

He chuckled. “I deserve that. I made the decision to… to stop talking to you and I knew I should have stuck with it.”

“Can I ask you something else, then?”

He knew what you were going to ask as he exhaled shakily and closed his eyes. “Yeah.”

“Why did you make that decision?” you asked, unafraid of the potentially childish connotations in your voice. You just needed to know. You’d waited for this long enough. “Why did you decide to stop being friends with me?”

Even though he hadn’t answered you yet, just getting the question out of your system felt so relieving, it was as if Sisyphus had dropped his boulder on your chest seven years ago and now, at long last, you’d rolled it off.

The boulder seemed to roll off onto Jungkook, however, as he tried to open his mouth to speak several times, but always ended up closing it again. He didn’t know where to begin.

“We… we were so different back then,” he finally said. He looked at you then and there was hope in his eyes – he wanted you to understand him without any words. “Remember?”

“From right now?” you asked. You weren’t willing to try to decipher the signals his eyes were sending you. Right now, you needed him to use his words.

“From each other,” he clarified. “You were always so focused on your studies and spent so much time working with the school staff when you were in the student council, you were essentially the de facto headmaster of our school.”

You snorted. “Yeah, right.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Right. And I was… well, you knew me then. I haven’t changed much.”

“The troublemaker,” you said and then, almost automatically, tried to make light of the situation because he looked like he was having a hard time and you didn’t want that. “Good thing there are no more PTA meeting in college, huh?”

Jungkook laughed at this but his laughter lacked humor.

“Yeah,” he said, not sounding wistful in the slightest. He wouldn’t go back to high school even if someone paid him to do it. “There’s still the risk of expulsion even without them. That never goes away in any institution.”

“It’s what brings you to life, though,” you said, your previous discussion returning to your mind. “You love the adrenaline, the danger of doing something that might have long-lasting repercussions. You always have.”

“And you don’t,” he said sadly. “That’s why I felt like—I didn’t want to—I was bad for you.”

Your loud heartbeat momentarily halted your ability to comprehend his words. “Hmm?”

“You probably don’t know this, but,” he hesitated on the very edge of what he knew you needed to hear, “I’d overheard my parents talk about us once, after our middle school graduation.”

There it was again. The last day of your middle school.

Thankfully, this time, the silence spell didn’t linger and Jungkook continued. Actually, this time, the spell didn’t even work on him – now that he’d decided to answer your question – now that he’d found how to answer it – he couldn’t be silenced.

“And the only thing I remember from their conversation,” he said, “is my mom – who’s been on my side for as long as I could remember, standing up for me to my teachers even when they believed I was a lost cause – saying to my dad that she was afraid I was going to be the end of you.”

“What?” you asked, perplexed.

After spending almost every day with Jungkook – and his family, too – for years, you hadn’t even considered that they may have been talking about you when you weren’t there.

“She, um… she saw something between us that we didn’t, I guess,” Jungkook continued as his fingers absentmindedly toyed with the edge of your blanket, his eyes on the shredded fleece. “And she believed I would be the reason why you stopped working so hard. Why you lost your ambitions. She thought I’d turn you into someone entirely different.”

“But that’s—why would she—” all the questions you had tried to pour out of you at once.

“She saw how much we meant to each other and—”

“Yeah, but—” you cut him off and, closing your eyes for a moment to settle on just one of the many things you wished him to explain, you tried, “I mean, why couldn’t she have looked at it from a different perspective? I could have been the good influence that you needed in your life. Y-you said I was.”

“I thought you were. I still think you are. But, um…” Jungkook spoke to the fleece blanket because he couldn’t speak to you,  “she… she didn’t seem to think you had it in you to resist me.”

“Resist you?” you repeated, unexpectedly offended. But that only lasted for a second before you felt it necessary to disarm yourself and stop pretending. You were absolutely devoted to Jungkook when you were growing up. “Oh, fuck it,” you said. “She probably had a point.”

Jungkook was prepared to hear your offence. He was not prepared to hear that.

“She had?” he repeated, looking at you for the first time since he started talking.

You swallowed the ball in your throat. “Yeah.”

Shakily, Jungkook concluded, “so, I made the right choice, then.”

“By putting an end to our friendship?” you asked, suddenly aware of how cold your body seemed to be, your hands especially – and painfully so, too. Dancing with the ghosts of your past proved to be difficult. “Was that for my benefit, then?”

It wasn’t the disbelief in your voice that he focused on. It was the anger.

You’d moved on. He thought you moved on – you were still the same in almost every aspect that he remembered, but you were also so different: so mature, so determined, so certain.

And he was partially right – you clearly didn’t hold a very strong grudge. But he also felt ridiculous for assuming that, despite it being so long, you wouldn’t still be angry about this now.

You’d allowed him back into your life and blessed him by not asking him to explain himself for weeks before you finally gathered the courage to do it; it was natural for you to feel angry about something that you’d waited for for so long.

“That’s… well, it was supposed to be,” he explained and then felt the need to defend his decision by saying, “that’s how everyone seemed to see it. I didn’t want you to lose the best parts of yourself because of me. And I don’t doubt that your parents were also relieved when I was no longer such a prominent part of your life.”

You had considered the possibility that Jungkook ended your friendship per the request of his parents. But you had assumed they saw you as a threat to him – even if, in retrospective, that didn’t make a lot of sense; what threat could you have possibly posed to him or the company?

Instead, it was the other way around.

Looking down, you said, “my parents weren’t relieved.”

“They weren’t?” Jungkook repeated because he couldn’t find enough words of his own.

“No,” you confirmed, remembering the not-so-distant times when Jungkook’s name was a forbidden word at your dinner table. “Hardly any parent would feel relieved to see their child cry her eyes out for days.”

Admitting this made you feel vulnerable and it would have made you feel pathetic, too, if Jungkook didn’t immediately wince after you said this – not from pity, but from his own hurt.

“I’m sorry,” he said because he had to, and because he was. And then, even though he didn’t have to, he continued, “I didn’t handle that well, either. I broke my leg in a bike accident about three weeks after we last talked.”

You frowned, focusing all of your energy into your confusion so your wet eyelashes wouldn’t release the droplets of tears down your cheeks. “Was that—”

“That’s how I deal with my emotions,” he said with a nod, confirming your guess. “That is, I don’t. I get reckless and I do stupid shit. That’s the last time I ever saw Dad’s beloved Ducati. He sold it.”

“He sold the bike?” you asked. The bike had belonged to Jungkook’s father who was a casual collector of sports cars and motorcycles – much to the joy of his underage son – but Jungkook was never permitted to drive any of them, at least, not until he was “old enough” according to his father’s standard.

“On the same day they ‘scraped my body off the pavement.’ That’s how he put it,” Jungkook said. “I only got to ride it that one time. Clearly, I’m not a natural. But dad couldn’t believe I was stupid enough to get on a bike for the first time without a helmet or any help at all. He wasn’t even looking for reasons why I did it, he didn’t ask me anything. Just sold the bike, locked up the garage, and didn’t talk to me for a week after I returned from the hospital. Actually—t-that was the first major thing that lead to me moving out of their house later on.”

You replayed his words for a long time, thinking and trying to understand.

“Why did you ask me to put this act? To play a couple for your parents?” you asked when you thought you were ready for the final cross on the last T. “If they thought you were a bad influence on me, this—seeing us back together again, could have painted you in the wrong light again.”

He didn’t think so.

“It’s been so long,” he said, “and you’re arguably the best student in your year. You’re determined and driven. And you’d rather kick my ass to the curb than give in to me and what I want. You… you affect me in ways I could never affect you. Control me in ways I could never control you. And I mean that in a good way. You are a good influence on me. And my parents can see that now.”

Obviously, he wasn’t entirely aware of how much control he still had over you, but because now you knew that this was precisely the reason why you’d stopped being friends seven years ago, you chose not to bring it up.

“I… I don’t control you,” you said.

“You do,” he disagreed. “Maybe not intentionally—actually, probably not; I’d like to think that you didn’t want me to suffer—but you do. You want to stay inside of your room, watching movies – and I want that, too. You want me to come to class and I want that, too. You want me to change and I’m changing.”

“I just—I don’t want you to kill yourself with your recklessness. But I don’t want you to be different,” you said, looking down. “I’d... always liked you the way you were.”

Your broken-up confession couldn’t have warmed his heart more. And yet, he had to point out, “I was unbearable.”

You gave him a look that wasn’t threatening at all because your eyes were still glossy from the tears.

“I know,” you said.

He smiled in spite of himself. “And you still liked me that way?”

You nodded, not saying anything else because he already knew the answer to that—and every other—question.

“I’m sorry for these seven years,” Jungkook said then and maybe that wasn’t enough to cure the wounds the years had left but it was a start. “You had a future ahead of you and I didn’t. My parents could see that but there was little they could do. I had to understand and deal with the fact that I was going to fall off the rails sooner or later myself. I was fourteen and I had to understand that. And I did. I knew that. And I also knew I didn’t want to drag you down with me. You didn’t deserve that.”

You fell into silence again.

You knew you wouldn’t have walked away from him then – anything he’d have asked, you would have given him. Any cliff he would have jumped off of – you would have followed.

To realize that Jungkook didn’t let you go because he didn’t want to be your friend anymore, or because he got tired of you, or because he didn’t care about you anymore -- or because of any other reason you tried to find over the years -- but rather, he let you go because he knew you wouldn’t, was groundbreaking.

It didn’t fix the hurt, it didn’t make it better, and, perhaps, nothing would – the years have gone by and you couldn’t get them back – but now you knew that the end of your friendship was a sacrifice of sorts.

You were intertwined together – it was you-and-him, always you-and-him – and you were comfortable living this way, both of you were. But that wasn’t right. It wasn’t healthy.

Except, you weren’t the one who had her eyes opened seven years ago – if there was no you and him, there could never be you-and-him – and so Jungkook ended up having to break out of your comfort zone, to leave your sanctuary, and walk in a different direction. On a different road.

All so you could have a road for yourself.

“I’m…” you tried to say but the tears that had welled up in your eyes were now cascading down your face and Jungkook – alert as soon as he saw that you were crying – sat up straight. “I’m fine. It’s just been a long day. Thank you for telling me.”

“I… you’re welcome,” he said, wanting to reach out and wipe the tears away but watching you do it yourself. “Although, I wish I didn’t have to tell you anything. Not just because I don’t want you to think about my mom differently after this—she always wanted what’s best for you, we both did—but also because I… I wish there had been a different way. A way where we could have kept in touch and still remained individuals.”

“Maybe there was no such way at the time,” you said. “We’d been close from the day we were born. Maybe we needed to spend some time apart to learn how to be ourselves.”

“Maybe,” he agreed but he didn’t think that was fair. “We were too close.”

“We were,” you said and couldn’t help sniffling; the tears have started to block your breathing. “Sorry, I just—it didn’t have to be seven years. I-I mean, it doesn’t take that long for people to mature.”

“No. It didn’t have to be,” Jungkook said but the fact that he agreed with you didn’t bring you much joy because his words were sad. “I have no excuse for that.”

Knowing that you could have been setting yourself up for more heartache, you still dared to ask, “would you have talked to me sooner if I hadn’t been avoiding you?”

“Probably,” he said, afraid to look at you in case he’d lose control of himself at the sight of your tears. “I-I couldn’t resist myself. But would you have replied to me?”

You looked down, making it easier for another tear to trail down your cheek. “I did that night at the party.”

Jungkook bit his lip. “Would I have seen you again if I hadn’t crashed my car?”

You inhaled sharply, not liking that this was what it came to. “No. Probably not.”

“It didn’t have to be seven years,” he said again, nodding thoughtfully, “but I think that we… started to talk again right when we had to. When it was time.”

You didn’t like that, either. “That can’t be true.”

“We’ll never know what’s true,” he said, leaning in closer to you but still not daring to reach out and touch you. “But it’s been long enough.”

“It has been,” you said, nodding and, feeling more tears coming. You sniffled, throwing your head back to fight the crying, and excused your emotions again, “it’s been a long day. It’s been seven long years.”

It’s been a long life; but you didn’t think of your years as his best friend to be draining. If anything, these were the years that made you feel alive: both of your families so close, it was like you grew up with two sets of parents, and with a soulmate for a best friend.

It’s what happened next that was a task.

Life had been pouring out in every shade of color around you when you knew him, when you laughed with him. And when you didn’t, you had to physically strain yourself to see the world in anything other than black-and-white.

You’d worked so hard to get used to the darkness of your life that the explosion of the color spectrum when you finally got to laugh with him again was almost painful. You’d grown so accustomed to monochrome that seeing colors all over again felt scary. Dangerous. Potentially hurtful.

But now you knew he never meant to take the colors out of your life. By doing so, he ended up having to sacrifice his own brightness. His own light.

Maybe what hurt the most right now wasn’t the memory of the years that you’d spent without talking, but rather the pointlessness of it all because here you were again: together. Affecting each other in ways ordinary people should not have been allowed to affect one another.

“Come here,” Jungkook finally asked, extending his arms, but you shook your head, not wanting to admit to how big the hurricane cloud in your chest was. “Come here, please.”

The insistence of his tone wasn’t what got you to move closer in the end – it was the pain in his eyes.

This had hurt him, too. He was the one who had to find a different way so he wouldn’t have to end your friendship. He was the one who eventually failed and had to say goodbye – stone you so you’d run away. Wound you, so you wouldn’t come back.

It would have hurt your pride if you didn’t love him so much.

And he couldn’t find it in himself to say how much he wanted you to come back after he told you to leave; how much he agonized over your phone number – which he’d deleted off his phone only to realize that he knew it by heart – and how much he wished he was different—better—so he wouldn’t have to stay away from you. He couldn’t find the words.

So, he just held you – like it was the first and the last time he was ever going to hold you. And he hoped that this would be enough for you to know that he knew you loved him. He’d always known.

And he loved you, too.

“I’ve missed you. Everything about you,” he whispered, clutching your body tightly against his own and sinking his face into your hair. “So much.”

Your hair grew wet – you could feel the pain leave his heart in tears – and, even though you’d seen him cry before, you’d never cried with him. But it felt inevitable now – like everything you’d done together in the past few weeks was only the prologue and tonight you were turning the page, you were starting the first chapter of the rest of your lives.

It hurt because of how long the prologue was. It hurt because of the seven empty pages.

But it felt so relieving to reach the end. So freeing.

You wrapped your arms around him tighter because you were ready to work on letting go of the pain, and you were ready to move on, and you were so happy to have him with you. You didn’t know what awaited you after tonight but that scared you much less than all that you’d already survived.

“If history repeats itself,” you said, your nose stuffed from the crying, “we’ll find a different way, right?”

Jungkook considered pulling away when you said this but that didn’t seem right. Not holding you when he could, didn’t seem right.

“We will,” he said into your hair. “I’m not leaving again.”

And he meant it – in the long run, at least. Because this night was coming to an end.

Your laptop – and the movie you didn’t get to watch – was long abandoned as you and Jungkook sat on your bed, your legs crossed and hearts open, and you talked.

You talked and the seven empty pages filled. The filled with words, written in different fonts with different colors, but they filled.

You talked and your bodies grew tired even if your minds didn’t, so you lied down on your backs next to each other, the white concrete ceiling painting itself in the colors of all that you’d missed about each other.

You talked and the hours went by – minute by minute, morning was creeping up on you.

“It’s late,” Jungkook said when your room got so dark, he couldn’t make out which bits of skin, glistening in the pale light from the street lamps outside, were yours and which were his. But even so, he remained on his back next to you. “I should probably go home. Maybe we can watch a movie tomorrow? Or next week?”

“I… I don’t have plans tomorrow,” you said and you wanted this night to keep going so badly, that if you’d been Faust, your soul would have gone straight to hell: beautiful moment, do not pass away! “Will the party be over now?”

“No, probably not yet,” Jungkook replied, “won’t be the first time I’ll be woken up by someone drunkenly smashing a bottle or something,” he said and then, when you bit your lip, clearly concerned, he added, “it’s fine. I’m used to it.”

Then, because you were not Faust and the devil had not chained your soul to the pits of hell just yet, you found a way to stop the moment as you said, “you could stay here.”

“Hmm?” Jungkook turned his head to look at you, unsure if he understood your offer. “H-how do you mean?”

“Just… stay here,” you said with a shrug as if it was that simple. Your eyes remained on the ceiling. “The RA didn’t see you come in with me. And, usually, no one smashes anything in the middle of the night here.”

“Are you sure?” he asked again. He didn’t want to go – but just like he did before coming inside earlier tonight, he didn’t want to force you into something you weren’t ready for; God knew you’d already done so much for him.

But you assured him, “yeah. You didn’t want me walking home alone, well, maybe I don’t want you stumbling around at 3 AM, either. You’d already had one fight today.”

“It’s, uh,” he checked his phone, “four-thirty.”

You gave him a look.

“But your concern is understandable,” he added quickly, catching on, “I just don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

“I’m not uncomfortable with you here.”

“Okay,” he said, your gazes so intensely focused on each other, both of you were almost paralyzed as you lied side by side.

“Yeah?” you asked. “So, you’ll stay?”

“I’ll stay if you let me.”

You turned to your side, facing him. Your eyes never left his, just like his did not stray from yours. You even seemed to blink in unison.

“Stay,” you said. “I’m letting you.”

He turned to his side as well and, as his eyes fell to your lips – he could have touched them with his own if he dared to move a little bit closer – you knew you would have allowed him do a lot more than just stay here for a night.

But you’ve come a long way tonight, both literally – when you walked back here from the party – and figuratively – when you scratched the wounds until they bled because there was no other way for them to heal properly – and maybe that was enough for one night.

“Goodnight,” Jungkook whispered because you’d walked so much tonight but your road hadn’t ended yet. He didn’t dare to touch you.

“Goodnight,” you whispered back because just having him here with you after so long felt enough right now. You didn’t have to to touch him.

keep reading | masterlist

#bts reactions #bts fanfiction #bts college au #jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfiction #bts angst #college au #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #friends to lovers au #bts f2l #fanfiction #bts au #angst

[cinnaminsvga]

🤬 | seokjin

the sleep deprived series (n.): drabbles that i write when i’m sad and tired

→ frenemy!seokjin ft. e2l and the magnificent get-along sweater | 2K words → a/n: this is dedicated to my homie @jincherie​ who has been, as they say, wiping her ass everyday only to shit again. i can’t really do much to actually alleviate your circumstances except maybe making you smile, so i hope this can be your tiny ray of sunshine amidst the crap. this fic literally makes no sense because i wrote this within one hour so i’m sorry but pls know that ilysm!!

“Where’d you even fucking get this abomination?” you growl, struggling fruitlessly against the coarse fabric. In your fidgeting, your elbow knocks into Seokjin’s broad chest, causing more damage to your weak joints than anything. Even so, Seokjin grunts overdramatically, stepping on your toes in retaliation.

“Yoongi-chi, you know that I love you very much—” Seokjin seethes, his teeth clenched almost painfully as he fights to restrain himself from ripping the sweater in half, a la Hulk style. “—but I will not hesitate to stab you once I get out of here.”

“Not my fault that you both are acting like a bunch of toddlers,” Yoongi snorts, hip jutted out in contempt like the homosexual that he is. “And to answer your other question, I bought that sweater online after your last fight, when you two were literally wrestling on the kitchen counter. I didn’t know whether I walked into some intense BDSM play or a WWE ring.”

“You bought a fucking get-along sweater for us? What are you, some sort of Christian camp counselor?” you growl, kicking your legs out in an attempt to hit him. The slimy twink bastard jumps away gracefully, landing onto the loveseat opposite the couch that you were sitting on. He crosses his legs, opening his arms wide when your traitorous cat jumps onto his lap, looking to all the world like a terrible Bond villain from the 80s.

“If I was Christian, I would not put the two of you into a sweater together,” Yoongi says. He strokes your cat, who purrs loudly before pointing a contemptuous glare back at you, as if she was enjoying your torture too. Dumb cat. You never liked Miko anyway.

Yoongi continues, “Anyone would two eyes knows that you both are just one brawl away from fucking each other into the next dimension. Lord knows that your sexual tension could power the entire city.”

It’s Seokjin’s turn to snort, who has been relatively quiet in comparison to you. He’s also less fidgety, but that might be because he at least has the advantage and comfort of occupying 90% of the sweater space due to his oceanic shoulders. You once described him as “horizontally imbalanced,” which he did not find slightly amusing.

“I would rather place my balls into a panini press and feed them to Miko than to ever fuck Y/N,” Seokjin fake-gags, squirming uncomfortably in his seat. “It would be less hot for me to actually grill my penis than for me to sink into her hell-ish cunt. I swear, you could bake bread in there with how much yeast has accumulated from—“

You headbutt his chin before he can finish, squawking indignantly. The satisfying sound of his teeth clacking together in pain is momentary but worthwhile. “Excuse you, but it’d be an honor to fuck me! I’ve got that S-tier pussy! If my pussy was in a gacha game, people would spend thousands of dollars just to roll for my mystical coochie!”

Yoongi smirks. “So you admit that you do want Seokjin to fuck you!”

“What the fuck! No! That is—what the—I don’t!” You stammer, face flushing as you struggle to regain your footing in the conversation. Yoongi’s eyebrow raises, intrigued by your slip-up. “That is totally not what I meant, and you know it!”

Yoongi picks at his nails, pointedly avoiding eye contact. “Sorry, I don’t speak hetero. Prithee, explain thy peculiar mating rituals to one who does not walk the straight and narrow path.”

You slump back against the couch, forcing Seokjin to follow and fall backward with you. His shoulder hits you square in the boob, causing you to groan in pain. “Yoongi, just let us out of this thing before I lose a limb to this walking inflatable tubeman,” you plead, ignoring Seokjin’s glare.

“I resent that,” Seokjin inputs, but no one pays him any mind. Your attention is focused solely on the smirking kitty man in front of you, who grows smugger as time ticks on.

Everyone in your friend group is aware of the weird relationship you have with Seokjin. Ever since you met him in your freshman year of university, things were never peaceful between the two of you. It was always constant bickering, squabbling, competing… everything. Even Jungkook, Seokjin’s other sworn enemy, doesn’t argue with the elder as much as you did.

For three years, everyone just assumed it was your weird kindergarten schoolyard way of showing affection for each other, and at the beginning, it might have been. You and Seokjin, both of whom have never dated in their lifetimes despite being moderately popular while growing up, are unsurprisingly emotionally stunted and never learned how to just be nice to people you like. Affection who? Compassion where? To the both of you, physical connection can only be achieved through hair tugging and nipple pinching, and not even in the sexy way.

But at a certain point, things were starting to get tiring. Your arguments only grew larger in scale, to the point where it was getting hard to differentiate whether the bruises on your neck were from pinches or something else.

“I just… Ugh… When are they gonna fuck, hyung? I’m actually getting tired of their constant fighting,” Namjoon had lamented one afternoon, just a day after your last altercation with Seokjin. It had been a big one, where Seokjin nearly lost a tooth when you had landed a neat uppercut squarely on his jaw after he called your toes ‘a foot fetishist’s worst nightmare.’

Yoongi’s boyfriend had been staring listlessly into his bowl of soup for the past hour, and he was honestly starting to get worried when it looked like Namjoon had started muttering to himself in a foreign language. Yoongi almost thought he might have been scrying for a prophecy, begging for an answer to their most pressing question.

“What do you want me to do about it? Lock them in a room and let them out only after they’ve done the deed? Mixed bodily fluids? Performed the monkey dance to its climax?! No thanks, I don’t wanna be near them when that can of worms finally explodes,” Yoongi grimaced, shivering at the thought.

Namjoon shook his head quickly, face paling with him. “Heaven forbid. Maybe you can keep it PG? How about getting one of those get-along sweaters or something. I think they used those in kindergarten.”

Yoongi sighed. “Yeah, but the question would be how I’d get them into it.” He flaps his noodle arms around in demonstration. “I’m not exactly in the running for world’s strongest twink. Plus, years of fighting each other means they’re both stronger than I am.”

Namjoon shrugged. “Easy, just dare them to wear it. Make it into a competition. Nothing gets them more riled up than when they’re trying to outcompete each other.”

And so, that’s how the two of you had gotten stuck in a 3XXL Hello Kitty sweater that Yoongi had bought from Ebay. It has yet to be decided whether spending $40 on expedited shipping was worth it.

“Look, Yoongi-chi. We both promise that we will stop fighting once you let us out of this,” Seokjin says, smiling sweetly at him. Had Yoongi been younger and much more prone to the alluring temptation of the Straight Man™️, he might have caved. But Yoongi is older now, plus he knows when Seokjin is lying better than any polygraph test.

Yoongi rolls his eyes, waving him off. “Fat chance. You’d probably stop fighting for approximately three hours before getting mad about mint chocolate ice cream or something.”

“Hey! Give us some credit. We both agree that flavor is abhorrent, so we would never argue about that,” you retort, with Seokjin nodding furiously in agreement. You glance at him. “And I feel like we’d last at least six hours without fighting. What was our record again?”

“Five hours and twenty-two minutes,” Seokjin says.

You hum thoughtfully. “Okay, I can promise at least five hours and thirty minutes. Maybe.”

Yoongi groans, rubbing his temples in frustration. His souring mood even makes Miko jump away in fright, and the two idiots trapped in a sweater can immediately feel the dip in temperature. Uh oh, here we go!

“I am absolutely sick and tired of the two of you dumbasses fighting all the time! It’s embarrassing as hell trying to bring either of you anywhere in public because everyone mistakes your little catfights for strange foreplay or whatever,” Yoongi glowers. The two of you shrink into your seats, ashamed.

“We’ve only gotten kicked out of one Costco—” Seokjin defends. 

“But we did get fined for public indecency at the beach when I pulled your trunks down, which was totally unfair, by the way,” you mutter. 

“You literally threatened to, and I quote, ‘Suck the soul out of Seokjin’s dick until he dies.’ How the hell is that unfair?!” Yoongi exclaims. 

“It was a death threat! I would’ve accepted a charge for attempted murder, but that was not going to be a sexy blowjob, I assure you—”

Yoongi holds up a hand to silence you. “Face it, you both like each other. Whatever! Sure, you guys are the token straight people in our friend group, but that doesn’t make you bland as hell! Well, actually, it does but…” Yoongi pauses, wondering if it was worth lying. It takes a second for him to refocus. “Where was I? Oh right—“

Yoongi clears his throat, starting again. He heaves a deep breath, shoulders sagging tiredly as he puts on the sincerest face he can muster. “Listen, I just want to say that I care a lot about you, okay? And it sucks seeing the both of you hurting every time the other person says something really mean that neither of you even mean! If anything, will you please stop for me? If you really cared about our friendship, will you do it for me?”

There is a heavy pause as Yoongi strives to get his breathing back in check, his impassioned speech causing his fragile grandpa heart to race. He can feel his cheeks darkening in embarrassment, unused to using his “hyung voice” on Seokjin or you. Separately, the two of you are very reliable, never really needing him to scold either of you. Together, however… that’s a different story, but as the next eldest hyung, it really only fell to Yoongi to fix his friends’ mess of a relationship.

Screw age hierarchy. Yoongi would love to see Jungkook try to get Seokjin and you to fuck. Would absolutely pay to see the twerp squirm as he tries to even say the word “penis.”

After a while, Seokjin and you share a look. Yoongi watches with bated breath as he waits for either of you to speak, but he can sense some unspoken conversation happening between you. Perhaps, after years of exchanging blows, you had somehow knocked brain cells into each other and now share a weird psychic connection. Or, more likely, the two of you actually like each other and understand each other on a deeply personal level, so personal in fact that you could probably finish each other’s sentences, like—!

“We refuse,” you both reply in tandem, your joined voices echoing throughout the apartment. You both had said it so in sync that Yoongi might have imagined the other person speaking, but no—you both really did just say that to his face. In front of Miko. In front of his goddamn imaginary salad.

“Excuse me?” Yoongi squeaks. He cleans his ears with his fingers but finds no cotton there. These bitches! How dare they just throw his speech to the gutter! That shit took brain cells to think of, and he is not in the business of wasting his precious minutes by using them for productivity.

You shrug, leaning against Seokjin’s shoulder. He can see the ghost of a smirk tugging at your lips, thoroughly enjoying Yoongi’s confusion. “You heard us. We’ve made the executive decision to double our efforts, actually.”

Seokjin nods, not even shoving you off his shoulder like he normally would whenever you made contact with him. What? “Exactly. Honestly, we’ve been fighting for so long that we’ve kinda been just doing it for the bit at this point, and the fact that it annoys you so much is just the icing on the cake.”

Yoongi stares at them. His brain doesn’t feel like it’s connecting to his body at all; he feels like he’s floating. “So. What you’re saying is—“

“We know we like each other. Whatever. But we also like fighting, so who gives a shit if we’re having fun at the end of the day?” you shrug, pinching Seokjin’s cheek for good measure. As per usual, the elder retaliates by grabbing your finger with robot-like accuracy, before biting you there like a ravaging beast.

“And before you ask, no, we aren’t really dating. Yet. We kinda just wanted to piss as many people off before actually becoming official. We honestly didn’t think that you’d be the first one to crack.” Seokjin says, your finger falling from his mouth. The imprint of his teeth marks on your skin are plain as day, but you don’t look remotely bothered by it. In fact, you’re practically cooing at his ‘baby teefies’ like a psychopath.

“I—“ Yoongi stutters, at a loss for words for once in his life. He stands from the chair, but his knees give out from under him, causing him to tumble to the carpeted floor. He holds his head in his hands, shell-shocked. “So… That means…”

“Yeah, we’re kinda just freaky, I guess.” You muse before laughing hysterically when Yoongi begins to sob. “Hey, you’re right! We did make Yoongi cry! Do you think we could make Namjoon piss himself in rage when he finally confronts us too?”

Seokjin cackles, shaking your hand underneath the sweater. “If anyone can do it, I know that we can.”

And so, the two of you stand up clumsily to your feet, not bothering to escape the ridiculous sweater as you both waddled out of Yoongi’s apartment. From outside his door, Yoongi hears the sound of a new fight commencing, your shrieks resonating down the hall and for all the world to hear.

#btsghostie #bts scenarios #seokjin x reader #bts x reader #bts reader insert #bts fanfiction #bts imagines #bts humor #e2l #kim seokjin #seokjin scenarios #jin scenarios #bangtan #bts fanfic #the sleep deprived series