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personasintro · 3 years

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drunk over sober | ksj drabble

⇢ 𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔; getting through the evening in his presence calls for help and that's why you decide to reach for one thing that could possibly get you through it, or maybe it helps you in a whole another way

⇢ 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: angst (?), fluff, enemies to lovers au

⇢ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: explicit language

⇢ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 4.5k+

𝒂/𝒏: commissioned by @xxxjkxux, hope you like this! x

drunk over sober | sober now

𝒎.𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | ☕️ | © 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒐 (𝒏𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒅)

What did you do in your past life to deserve this? To deserve such an overly confident, snarky, cocky bastard to be in your life. Why couldn't your friends find a nice human being that is polite, friendly and modest? Not… him.

And the fact everyone is so okay with him acting like he owns everything just makes your blood boil even more. Why the hell did you even agree to come here in the first place? Oh yeah, because one of your friends Jimin, assured you he won't be here. But rather than be mad at Jimin for lying to you because well, your worst enemy – the epitome of evil is right here, you're actually more mad at his presence.

Or maybe because he's enjoying this night to the fullest, even has the decency to lift up his glass of wine at you as he cockily quirks up one of his brows and sends a smirk your way. You gape at him like a fish, features twisting to a deep scowl and a glare. But he looks even more amused at your obvious anger, living for it.

“Y'know, this glaring at him won't do anything.”

The melodic voice resounds next to you, your eyes moving from the devil himself to your friend who's looking at Seokjin amusingly before he looks at you with the same amused eyes. That's great! Even he's enjoying this. Are you the only one being miserable? Maybe you should leave this bar, leave the group of your friends to maybe open a bottle of wine for yourself.

“Don't talk to me,” you grit, trying to appear intimidating but it only makes Jimin chuckle which makes your brow twitch in irritation. “You lied to me. You told me he won't be here tonight.”

“I didn't lie,” Jimin clarifies, “He wasn't supposed to come but decided to tag along at the last minute.”

“Of course, he did,” you roll your eyes. “He likes to make my life miserable.”

Now it's Jimin's turn to roll his eyes, finding the hatred between you two pathetic and childish. You don't even know how it started. Seokjin always made you irritated from the moment you met him. You don't like overly confident men, thinking they can do anything and act however they like. Then he started to make fun of you, throwing snarky remarks your way ever since he noticed the way you clearly wasn't very fond of his presence. And it quickly turns into bickering whenever the two of you are in the same room.

He has already managed to comment on your outfit the second he saw you.

“This is not your grandma's funeral, Y/N.”

How dare he bring your poor grandma into this? You know he did that just to annoy you, that doesn't make it okay.

To be fair, you did tell him something back. “Oh really? Says the man who's wearing his dad's clothes.”

It's certain you made your friends laugh, both of you did. They always have fun whenever it comes down to your bickering. Seokjin didn't even look offended by your comment, just smirked your way as he gulped down more wine. That pisses you even more. He barely shows annoyance or any negative reaction. He always remains calm, amused and cocky. It pisses you off.

And of course, he doesn't look as if he's wearing his dad's clothes. He looks far from it. He might be close to his thirties, but he looks amazing. But surely, he knows that. Everyone knows that – even you. But you'd rather have your arm cut off than to admit it out loud.

“You both are freaking stubborn. Whatever the two of you have going on, you need to sort it out.”

“Sort it out,” you scoff, “As if that's possible.”

“It is,” Jimin says, a grin making its way to his lips. “I feel a certain tension here.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you while you frown, glaring at him for a moment before you let his words sink in and you realize what he's hinting at.

“Oh, fuck no!” you exclaim, wanting nothing else than to punch him for even mentioning that but you know you'd feel awful later. “Y'know what? I won't let him get to me. I'm gonna have fun.” you say lightly, your tone awfully fake but you go along with it as you gulp the rest of your wine.

“Now, I'm gonna get some more.” you inform him, Jimin's mouth is opening.

“That's not what I--”

But you're already gone, making your way towards the bar to order more wine but not before you brush past Seokjin giving him the nastiest glare. However, it only makes him chuckle, turning around for a moment to look at you amusingly as he's met with your back and swaying ass.

You usually make good decisions.

You always think through things because usually, you're a responsible person.

Usually – that's the key word because you're certainly not proving yourself to make good decisions. As much as you'd like to blame it on Suckjin (yes, because he really sucks), it's your own fault for deciding that drinking might be the best idea for how to get through the night. Part of you wanted to leave as soon as you saw his dumb and handsome face but you haven't seen your friends for two weeks and you wouldn't give him that satisfaction to show him how much his presence affects you. Or more like it annoys you.

Who are you kidding. He certainly affects you more than you'd like to admit, if he didn't – you wouldn't keep ordering wine (and probably going bankrupt because you'd save a lot of money by buying a whole bottle of wine, rather than buying one glass every ten to fifteen minutes). However, you're in a bar and it's quite obvious you pay more than you'd if you just bottle an alcohol from a convenience store.

Also, if he wouldn't affect you that much you'd listen to your friends' worries and advice to slow down. You did the right opposite. You feel like you started ordering even more frequently.

But most importantly, if he wasn't affecting you, you certainly wouldn't throw up into the toilet of the ladies restroom.

And the fact you embarrassed yourself in front of (not just your friends) but also everyone in a bar while running to the ladies with a hand over your mouth, to keep the vomit inside until you're free to let it out.

Oh, fuck so fucking embarrassing.

Your knees ache as you hug the toilet, not caring about possible bacterias laying on the toilet seat. If you were sober, you'd actually be so disgusting.

When one of your female friends comes to check on you, you rasp out that you're okay and will be out in a few minutes. You weren't.

You've been here for god knows how long but considering how many women already went to use the restroom, you must've been here for quite some time. Luckily, you stayed quiet and didn't throw up while anyone else was here.

Your stomach is uncomfortably clenched reminding you that you're about to have a wild awakening in the morning full of regret, you know you emptied everything in your stomach. You've a weird sour taste in your mouth, causing you to groan disgustedly at yourself. Once you flush the toilet for like the fifth time by now, you get the courage to walk out and check your appearance in the mirror.

You look awful. You also feel like it.

You rinse your mouth a few times, feeling lucky that no one has decided to come here to see your head in a sink while spitting out the water to get rid of that awful taste of vomits in your mouth. Your make-up is slightly smudged but it's actually not that awful once you wipe your undereyes and the smudged mascara there.

Once you're ready, knowing you've to walk out of those doors to face the others (and by that, you don't just mean your friends but also everyone that witnessed you clearly ready to throw up), you brace yourself and open the door.

You're startled to be met with Seokjin leaning against the wall, standing there just on the opposite side of you as your eyes meet right away. He sighs, awfully similar to sighing in relief, as he takes your appearance and eyes you up and down.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, straightening himself.

“Like shit,” you answer honestly, grabbing the side of your throbbing head. “I think I'm still drunk.” you tell him, stumbling when a woman makes her way towards the restroom and you've to move to let her in since you've been standing right in front of the door.

Seokjin stretches his arms towards you, getting a faint hold of your wrists. HIs brows are furrowed while he stares at you.

“Come on, let's get you home.” he says, taking a few steps closer to you as you glare at him.

“You?” Is the only thing you let out of your mouth, ready to resist but Seokjin holds you close since you seem to have barely any balance.

You might've thrown up everything in your stomach, but your head throbs and you're still very much drunk.

“Yes,” he answers simply, “Everyone else went home. I told them I'd get you home safely.”

You scoff, not believing your friends. So, they just left you here? With him? They know you don't like him! The hell, you hate him! They know all of it and yet, they left you here with him.

Little do you know, Seokjin promised to take care of you. He was met with a few skeptical stares from your friends but Jimin assured them it's okay. The smirk Jimin gave Seokjin just as he was walking out of the bar didn't go unnoticed by him.

And here he is. Has been waiting for half an hour for you. He did get worried, wondering if you hadn't passed out on the floor or something and had this urge to just walk into the ladies restroom, knowing that might've got him kicked out of this bar.

Luckily, you walked out of there before he really decided to do it.

As much as you hate Seokjin, and doing a stupid decision, you know the smartest option for you is to just go with him. It's dangerous to go alone and even though you want to prove to him you don't need him or his help, you kind of do and it definitely helps to get you home safely, just like he promised to you and his friends.

So you huff under your breath, brushing past him but saying nothing in return but you know he's right behind you, feeling his presence following you out of a bar.

“Oh shit, I haven't paid for my drinks.” you exclaim once you make it outside.

Thank god, no one stared at you while walking out of a bar. You already feel embarrassed as it is.

“I took care of it,” Seokjin tells you, phone attached to his ear as he ignores your suspicious eyes and calls a cab for the two of you.

You groan, feeling your legs getting weak so you sit on a curb, hugging your arms as you feel a chilly breeze on your exposed arms.

After he makes the call, hanging up with a polite “Thank you, we'll be waiting”, he's joining you and sitting beside you as you eye him suspiciously again.

He probably feels your eyes on him, but he stares ahead watching cars passing by.

“Why would you pay for me?” you ask, voice drowsy as you keep your tired eyes on him.

He turns his head to you, staring at you for a moment as he lets out a chuckle. “I expect you to pay me back. I'm no charity.” he scoffs causing you to scoff back.

“Don't worry,” you murmur, feeling angry for some reason even though of course, you'd pay him back. You wouldn't let him pay for such an expensive wine, or even if it was a cheap one, just so he could use it one day against you. You don't need his money.

But deep down, you're glad he took care of it so you could just walk out of the bar and not spend any longer in it than necessarily. What you're angry about is the way he reacted. And here you thought he's being weird by the whole taking care of you thing. He's still the same idiot.

Your thoughts are cut off by him taking off his suit and throwing it over your small figure. You instantly feel the heat from it, knowing it's his body that made it warm. You open your mouth, staring at him surprisingly as he chuckles at your reaction.

“Well, don't look at me so surprised.”

“I am surprised,” you point out, “Thanks though.”

“What? I didn't hear you?”

You look at him again, opening your mouth but once you see the corner of his mouth twitching, you know he heard you and is just making you say it again.

“Your mistake.” you huff.

You don't know for how long you sit there waiting for the cab, but you feel yourself getting more and more tired, looking for a place to lean your head against which happens to be Seokjin's shoulder. You're too out of it to check out his reaction or realize what you just did.

His shoulder feels nice. The one you kept making fun of him, actually you made fun of both of his shoulders. Suddenly, you start feeling guilty for it and you blame you being drunk for it because you're already opening your mouth.

“I'm sorry for making fun of your shoulders,” you mutter, yawning sleepily. “They feel nice.”

Seokjin laughs, actually it's something between a laugh and a chuckle but he finds your confession and apology funny nevertheless.

“I know you secretly love them.” he teases you, causing you to groan in response. Oh god, you're so out of it.

“I hate you secretly.” you inform him, causing him to snicker.

“It's not that big of a secret.” he points out, making you chuckle for some reason. He's right. It's quite obvious.

“You hate me too, don't make me feel guilty.”

“I don't hate you,” he tells you, sounding serious for a second before he chuckles. “You just can't take some teasing.”

You lift your head up quickly, groaning when you feel it spin as your vision gets blurry. You glare at Seokjin, seeing double – two Seokjins – but you glare at him nevertheless.

“Teasing?” you exclaim, “That's not teasing! That's pissing me off and you know it.” you snap but lay your head back when it starts to hurt even more. He lets you, scoffing a little.

And he stays quiet, letting the distant sounds of cars and people chatting that walk past you be the only sound between you two. You're on a verge of actually falling asleep, closing your eyes for the first time since fighting the urge to close them since you laid your head on Seokjin's shoulder.

But yet again, Seokjin manages to open his mouth again and for some reason, you're not as annoyed as you'd normally be.

“Do you believe in soulmates?”

It's so random, you don't get why he's asking you this but you're also very drunk to put too much thought into it.

You let his question linger in the air and in your mind, pursing your lips slightly in a silent thought before you come up with a quite sober answer. “I think everyone is in your life for a reason.”

“Oh, so I'm in your life for a reason.” he teases you and if you looked up at him, you'd see him wiggling his brows.

“Yeah, to piss me off apparently.” you tell him, getting to hear a breathy laugh from him.

“You piss me off too,” he says, sounding both amusing and accusing at the same time. Maybe even offended too. “But I like you.” he admits.

It's like a slap to your face and thanks to your drunkenness, it takes a while to fully understand his words but once you do, you whip your head in his direction while looking at him like a deer caught in the headlights.

“You what?”

“Come on, isn't it obvious?” he laughs almost bitterly, but keeps his tone light and even when he looks at you with his dark brown eyes, you see nothing but softness in them.

Okay, you're really drunk.

“Do you think I'd take care of you, borrowed you my suit to keep you warm and waited in front of the restroom for half an hour just because I hate you?”

You're speechless, not fully realizing that Kim Seokjin, the Kim Seokjin that makes fun of you whenever you're around, just confessed that he doesn't hate you. And admitted verbally and loudly what he's done for you so far. Even though you didn't ask for it, you know deep down you appreciate it.

“I don't understand…” you mumble, “What about all the teasing and annoying me?”

“It's just teasing, it's not my fault you can't take a joke.” he snorts, causing you to send him a glare. It's just a small confirmation that yes, he still acts like a dick but the difference is, that you're not overly mad over it and don't want to slap his handsome face.

“You and I have a different concept of a joke,” you scoff, “I don't like those jokes.”

“Alright, no more teasing and jokes,” he says, causing you to raise your brows at him lazily. You don't believe him. “Don't look at me like that, I'm serious. And just a reminder, you haven't been going easy on me too. I'm just lucky I have thick skin and can take a joke.”

You want to have some smartass response, to say something back about how he's making it seem like you're some kind of a prude that can't joke around, because you can. You're quite a fun person to be around. He just doesn't know that side of you because you just straightass go into an attack mode whenever he is around.

And as your drunk mind thinks about it, you do feel an obvious guilt slowly building but you're too drunk to fully tell him what you think. But you try your best, muttering the first thing that comes to your mind.

“I'm sorry to joke about your shoulders,” you almost whisper, pouting. “I like them. They're comfy. At least this left is.”

That's right, you've been leaning on his left shoulder only.

Seokjin snorts at that before he erupts laughing, causing you to cringe at the loud sound close to your ear but you find yourself smiling. He catches the sight of your smile, his laugh slowly dying as he keeps his lips stretched into a similar one.

“I can assure you my right shoulder is just as comfortable,” he remarks, causing you to snort as you nod at him. “I don't know what's up with you and my shoulders. You said far more mean things about my own personality than my appearance.”

You cringe at that, feeling the guilt even more. Perhaps it's the tone in his voice that makes you think that you making fun of his personality rather than appearance somehow affected him too.

“I'm sorry,” you murmur, hiding your face back in his shoulder once he looks at you, chuckling as you not so sneakily hide your shy face. “You said mean things to me too.”

“I'm sorry,” he says back, louder and more confident than when you said it. “I think we both have something to feel guilty about.”

You just nod, muttering something about how long it's taking for the cab to arrive. Seokjin is not sure if you did it to change the topic purposely, or you're just so drunk that you mind drifts elsewhere. Nevertheless, he coaxes you to stand up as he helps you, not minding the way your body practically stumbles into his in the middle of it. He has a tight grip on you, tucking a few restless strands of your hair behind your ear. Yeah, he commented that too. Something about how having your hair in a bun makes you look like you're in a job meeting rather than hanging out with your friends in a bar.

He cringes at that, having the need to apologize for that but you seem distracted by something else and that something else happens to be his lips. You're shameless, maybe you don't realize that you're staring and that he obviously sees you… but you just keep staring.

“I'm sure I made fun of your lips too.” you drunkenly murmur, causing Seokjin to breathe out a chuckle.

“You did.” he confirms your suspicion, causing you to sigh.

“I like them.” you tell him honestly, eyes lazily closing and smile stretching to the same lazy and drunk smile. And you bluntly reach towards them, your point finger tracing the bottom lip.

Seokjin feels the tip of his ears heating up, wondering how it must look like to someone that just walks by. You're in front of a bar with you drunk while tracing his lips as if it's the most normal and common thing ever.

“You know,” Seokjin starts, your finger no longer in front of his mouth. “I think I prefer you drunk over sober.”

That makes you snort, chuckling slightly as you lean towards him and bump your forehead into his chest. Wow, it's hard. You stay like that, trying to ignore the throb in your head.

“I think I prefer you when I'm drunk than when I'm sober.” you admit, causing him to laugh, hands respectfully on your back as you keep swaying slightly.

Suddenly, you've this urge to look at him because god knows if you'll ever have that opportunity. So you do, finding him already looking at you.

“But I wish you were sober now, though.” he admits too, your brows furrowing in a confusion for a moment.

“Why?”

“So I could kiss you.” he bluntly responds, your eyes widening and for a moment, you feel like you sobered up. That's not true, though. You just feel like it.

“You--you want to kiss… me?” you point at yourself, wondering if this is some kind of sick joke of his, so he can laugh about it later.

But he looks honest, staring at you with a deep glance. It makes you swallow dryly.

“Yeah,” he nods, “But you're drunk. And I don't want to take advantage of that.”

You stare at him cutely, your lips pouting without you even realizing and your pupils are big and waiting, causing him to grab your face gently. He traces his thumb over your lips, similar to what you did just a few minutes ago while tracing his own plush lips.

You called him Kylie Jenner look-alike if you remember correctly. God, you were such a bitch.

You like his lips.

“I'm not that drunk,” you stupidly protest, causing Seokjin's brows to raise in shock from your sudden interest in him kissing you. But he quickly shakes himself out of it and chuckles at your eagerness.

“How about a compromise?” he asks, catching your interest as you nod without thinking of it.

It's until he leans towards you, face just a few inches from yours. You can feel the heat coming off his breath, warming your face while your heart seems to be the only thing sober and awake.

His lips are so close, he is so close. You can smell his incredible and expensive cologne making you almost whimper in his direction but before he can take another inch closer to you, you realize something and panic.

“Wait, wait!” you exclaim, catching him off guard as he stares at you surprised while pulling away slightly, giving you some space as your hand is already on your mouth.

Are you about to throw up? Oh fuck, he'd be so embarrassed if you throw up at the idea of him kissing you.

“I threw up!” you inform him which makes him snort because he obviously knows that.

He heard weird noises that undoubtedly came from you while he was waiting for you.

But he doesn't tell you that to not make you embarrassed. He's not that big of a dick, even if you think he maybe is.

“But I rinsed my mouth!” you quickly jump to say, not wanting him to think like you stink or something. You made sure your mouth doesn't smell like vomits. The thought of him kissing you while you threw up just twenty minutes ago makes you want to throw up again. In your defense, you did rinse your mouth a lot and you no longer can smell or taste vomits in your mouth.

He chuckles, eyes scrunched as he inches closer to you and you almost protest (because just in case, you'd die of embarrassment) but you're taken aback when his lips find your forehead instead of your lips. He gives you a soft kiss there, smiling down at you as you gape at him with an open mouth.

This is the compromise he talked about, but you're too drunk to realize that.

“Come on, the cab is here.” he says, taking your hand in his as he leads you to a cab.

Once you both sit there, you give the cab driver your address before you allow yourself to finally relax and feel something soft under your butt rather than a hard pavement. You're not too shy to scoot closer to Seokjin, even though you've been glued to him from the moment you made it into the cab. You let your head rest over his right shoulder this time, commenting that it's comfortable too that makes him laugh.

It's the last thing he hears from you because he soon realizes you fell asleep, cuddling up to him. He's not sure if he'll be able to wake you up once you make it to your apartment building and he has no plans trying to get into your purse, so he sighs and tells the driver to drive you to his apartment instead. It's not far from yours anyway and the cab driver is more than happy to charge him for it.

But he doesn't care about money. If he did, he wouldn't pay that much money over the wine you drank and threw up all of it in the same day.

He wasn't joking when he said he wants you to pay back, but maybe now, he'll live without you paying him back. He can think of it as if it's redemption by burying the hatchet.

And as he glances at your peaceful sleeping figure that still is very much glued to his warm body, he knows it might be just worth it.

He just hopes you won't kill him in the morning once you find out you're at his place. And maybe, just maybe, he hopes a lot that you'll remember everything in the morning.

#networkbangtan #ficswithluv #bts smut #bts au #bts angst #bts fluff #seokjin x reader #bts enemies to lovers #seokjin scenario #seokjin fanfic #personasintro

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katsukithme · 4 years

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First Aid

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x reader

Summary: Your pro hero boyfriend is annoyingly opposed to first aid, and you have to get a little persuasive.

Warnings: Language, suggestive themes, lil bit spicy!! Not smut but like I’m easing into it. Mentions of injury.

Word count: about 1.9k :)

A/N: idek what this is man I am just h word on main for angry blonde firecracker man

**Character is aged up to at least 20**

You've about had it with this man. This absolute stubborn child of a man. If his bottom lip weren't already split, right now you'd be very highly considering doing it yourself.

You both were crowded into your small bathroom in your apartment, first aid supplies strewn across what little counter space you had, a few knocked onto the tile floor. You'd learned very early on in your relationship that keeping a first aid kit on deck was essential to dating Katsuki Bakugou. If only the bastard would sit still so you could actually use it.

It was a feat in and of itself that you managed to get him in here for the first aid in the first place. It was like luring a cat into the bathroom right before a bath. He knew what was coming... and it took bribery of course. But he was here, hips leaning against the edge of the sink, arms crossed over his bare chest as he faces you. You were standing in front of him (conveniently between him and the door), antiseptic in one hand and a bandage in the other, desperately trying to clean the cuts that littered his skin.

"Katsuki, come on! Quit moving around!" You say sternly, trying once again to dab the cloth over the wide gash that reached from his collarbone to his shoulder. It had stopped bleeding a while ago, but it looked pretty gnarly. And you'd be damned if you didn't at least disinfect it.

"I told you, I don't need first aid! I'm not even hurt." He retorts, indignantly avoiding every move you make towards him. Finally you throw down the bandage with a loud groan.

"We do this every time! How many times do I have to tell you? If you don't clean them they could get infected!" You demand, hands on your hips.

"Tch. As if I'd ever let something like that happen to me." He was operating with one singular braincell, you were sure of it. And the braincell was sitting in the 'stubborn asshole' part of Katsuki's brain.

"You- it's not... Jesus christ. It's not something you let happen! It'll only take a minute to clean them up, I promise."

He doesn't seem the least bit convinced, brows drawn together in such a deep scowl. It was exactly the sort of face a mother would scold you for, saying it'd get stuck that way.

Sometimes for him, you really thought it did.

"You said it'd take just a minute last time. And it absolutely fuckin' did not." He gripes and you throw your hands up in exasperation. It was like talking to a brick wall.

"Because you kept moving!" He rolls his eyes and stands up from the counter, pushing past you gently to go towards the door.

"Whatever. I don't need first aid." He growls out. Your hands ball into fists and your face sets into a hard expression. You'd had enough... no more good cop.

Before he turns the door handle you say just one more thing- and it stops him dead in his tracks.

"Bakugou Katsuki, if you don't come over here and sit your ass down so I can treat your wounds, so help me god I won't fuck you for a month."

He freezes, hand still holding the doorknob. He turns slowly to look at you over his shoulder, expecting to find any sort of lie, a trace of a fracturing exterior so he knew you didn't mean it. Instead, all he was met with was a stone cold glare.

He scoffs. "You're bluffing." He tries, and your arms cross over your chest.

"Try me. Go ahead, leave the bathroom. Get used to fucking your hand, it'll be the only action you see."

He was tempted of course to just leave. The odds of you bluffing were pretty high... he wasn't stupid, he knew it was just as much of a punishment for you as it would be for him. But the look in your eyes– it was threatening. Kind of hot, but he'd keep that to himself. The threat of an agonizing dry spell was too risky for him to point that out.

"Fuck. Fine..." he relents. And he takes his hand slowly off the doorknob.

You smirk triumphantly as he trudged slowly back into the bathroom, scowl still set into his face with no signs of leaving any time soon. You take a few steps back, however many the right space would allow so you could direct him. As much as he despised it, your threat had him wrapped around your little finger. More than usual.

You jut out your chin once towards the toilet, which had the lid closed. "Sit, asshole. Lemme fix you up." You say, tone firm but just a little soft around the edges as he finally starts to do as you say.

He plops himself down on the seat with a grumble under his breath, something along the lines of 'this is cruel and unusual punishment, but he sits nonetheless. And he was almost pouting with that expression on his face. It was cute... even if he was acting like an child. You decide to make the ordeal a little sweeter for the man, even if he was being unruly. With antiseptic in one hand and a bandage in the other, you give a soft push to his chest so he'd sit back and make space for you.

It was a cramped sort of space, not super ideal for his comfort or yours. But he always had space for you. He cocks a brow curiously as you move him, but says nothing when he realizes you're going to take a seat. How could he say no? Even he'd admit, he liked having you so close. Even if you're tending to injuries that really weren't that bad.

You straddle his thighs as settle in on his lap, shifting just a little to get comfortable. His hands immediately find your hips, keeping you nice and close. Once he seemed contented enough, you get to work cleaning him up.

It's quiet in the bathroom as you tend to the wounds, the only sounds being that of your first aid ministrations and your mingled breathing. He watches you intently, taking in every little mannerism and facial expression, hands tracing absentminded circles into your hips. His fingertips were barely beneath the hem of your shirt, seeking out the warmth of your bare skin to keep him entertained while you treat his minor injuries.

Finally once most of the scratches and such were taken care of, you turn to the cut on his lip, eyes meeting that intense vermillion gaze. He was uncharacteristically quiet, but you knew it was much more than that.

Katsuki wasn't really a man of words. He didn't express his undying love every five minutes, and you didn't expect him to. Instead he showed it in actions, in unspoken words found shining in his eyes. In a small quirk of his lips when you laugh, or an affectionate eye roll when you do something dumb. Showed it in the way he kissed you. In the way he'd lay you down and give it to you nice and good, just the way you liked.

You lightly dab at the wound on his lip, being careful not to hurt him since it was still pretty fresh. He doesn't seem even slightly fazed.

"Gotta be more careful, and lemme do this for you. Can't have you getting more hurt because you're bein' stubborn." You mumble, averting your eyes from that deep stare to eye the plush of his split bottom lip while you cleaned him up. If you made eye contact any longer, he'd have the satisfaction of making you blush.

He grunts softly, pulling you a little closer on his lap. "I was gonna let you." He mumbles, and it makes you roll your eyes. And his lips quirk up just a bit.

"You were not. You were gonna walk right out that door if I didn't threaten to take away sex." You mumble, and one of his hands starts to trace up your spine, effectively arching you against his chest.

"Maybe. But if I hadn't, you wouldn't be on my lap, would you?" He snarks, but his voice is all soft. You put your first aid supplies down on the counter and turn your eyes back to his once again, and he was grinning. He almost looked smug.

"Ah, shut up. Didn't have to sit here. Did it for you." He snorts in response, strong arms wrapping firmly around your waist.

"Sure you were." He was sarcastic, but his tone was still fond. "You like bein' this close just as much as I do, ass." You wrinkle your nose at him and push at his chest in retaliation, but it only makes him draw you in closer.

"You're the ass. Wouldn't sit still, wouldn't shut up till I said I wouldn't fuck you. Think with your dick, huh?" You tease, and his lips raise in a half playful snarl. Large palms slide over your hips to grab handfuls of your ass, keeping you right up against him.

"Shut the fuck up. You like when I think with my dick. Gets you all hot for me." He mumbles, lips barely brushing yours when he leans in close. You could feel the heat in your cheeks at the comment, spreading to the tips of your ears. He always did know just what to say to get you wrapped around his finger.

"What," he continues, dragging your hips forward against his own and you choke back a gasp. "Suddenly you're all quiet? Bet t's'cause I'm right. But I dunno, maybe I'm just thinking with my dick." You have to struggle not to whine as his hands guide you back and forth across his lap, and by god the friction was going to kill you. Your hands clutch to hard muscled shoulders, aching to gain back some semblance of self control.

But it was hard to keep sane around Katsuki. Damn near impossible.

"Fuck... you..." you breathe, trying to give him a glare but it comes off a little more wanton than you intended. His teeth graze your bottom lip, biting it gently and tugging outward before letting it back into place. His hips cant upwards, rolling into yours as he keeps you rooted firmly in place, and it tears a moan from your lips.

"Yeah? You wanna?" His voice has dipped down dangerously low in his throat, rumbling through his chest and sleeping into your bones. Between the movement of his hips and his mouthing along your jaw you felt as if you were going to combust.

"You're gonna be the death of me..." You can feel that damn shit eating grin against your jaw, and when your eyes meet deep vermillion you know you're a goner. He had you, hook line and sinker.

"Complain all you want, but you're whipped for me," he mumbles, one hand leaving the plush of your ass to cup the back of your neck, dragging you into a kind of kiss that made your toes curl, your knees shake. Hot and heavy, tongue and teeth.

Yeah, you were pretty whipped for Katsuki Bakugou... but he was just as whipped for you.

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #mha bakugou #bakugou fluff #katsuki bakugo fic #katsuki bakugou #my hero academy #my hero academy fanfiction #my hero x reader #my hero academia #bakugou fanfiction #bakugo x reader

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highdramas · 3 years

Text

bandit like me | criminal!bucky

warnings: language, violence, references to criminal behavior, allusions to sexy shit, bucky being a cocky asshole

word count: 2197

summary: if you and bucky are doomed, you want to see the glorious fallout.

note: this is the start of a bucky au series which will eventually be based on the heist from oceans 8! this is just an intro to bucky’s history with the reader, and their dynamic, but i’m so excited to continue!

enjoy! <3

god, you love vegas.

there’s a certain sort of dirty glamour that you can’t find anywhere else, you think-- and while you spend the majority of your time in new york these days, you find that your heart always has a certain tug to las vegas. after all, it is where you got your start as one of the finest pickpockets and swindlers on either side of the mississippi.

among other things.

it’s where you met james buchanan barnes for the first time.

you’d heard his name like a whisper in the wind for years before you met him in person. james “bucky” barnes, criminal extraordinaire. of course, you were young, and you had stars in your eyes and you had not yet been hardened by the world. you had not yet had to kill your way out of a shady job, had not yet conned a man of everything he was worth.

that was your favorite part, you think.

taking from men what they had earned unfairly.

if justice wasn’t coming for them, you would bring it upon them yourself. you would take it all and you would feel no remorse. their wealth, their assets, their connections.

sometimes, even their wives.

but those were petty games that you had played when you were young. you like to believe that you are more mature now; both in your swindling and in your personality.

sometimes, you miss those days. you miss running with natasha and chewing up men and spitting them back out. you miss the high of pulling off a real good job. you miss watching a man crumble beneath you, begging for mercy. of course, you would never give it. but you would make a show of thinking about it, and natasha would laugh, and she would say, “stop playing with your food, honey.”

that’s another thing.

you rarely reveal your real name.

not even to your closest confidants. not even to natasha.

no, you find that there are two ways that you introduce yourself. you either stare straight with a narrow gaze, murmuring something along the lines of, “your worst nightmare.” or, you smile sweetly with an outstretched hand and your head gracefully tilted. “call me honey.”

there’s only one person that you’ve worked with who knows your real name.

and he’s sitting at the hotel bar.

already, you can feel your annoyance begin to bubble. you can do one of two things-- you can saunter over there and properly ignore him, knowing that he will notice you instantly. or, you can go up to your room.

you decide you need a drink more than you need your sanity.

somehow, you’re sure that he already knows you’re here. you approach the bar and tap on it, smiling at the bartender. “cosmopolitan.” you turn your head to the right and he’s already looking at you.

“i thought you’d never show, doll.”

a smirk begins to play on your lips, and you thank the bartender as you slide your drink to yourself. “i should get a restraining order,” you muse as you lift your glass to your lips, taking a lengthy sip. “you creep.”

bucky laughs and he takes a sip of his own drink, and you don’t even have to look to know what it is-- whiskey coke. god, you always gave him shit for it. told him he should at least drink his whiskey neat. he would always give you that same stupid smirk and he would say, “what, i can’t have a little sweet, honey?”

“that’d be no fun,” he says and god you know that he’s right, but you hate to admit it. “who you here for?”

all the attempts of not looking at him are futile, and you throw a glance in his direction. he looks as glorious and handsome as ever. the man drips with luxury. from his suit to his hair to his beard which has grown out slightly since the last time that you saw him-- everything about him tells you that he is expensive. “you think i’d tell you?”

“i’m here for pleasure, darling. i’m not going to infiltrate on your job.”

you scoff. “i have a hard time believing that. when are you ever not thinking about work?”

bucky’s desire to work is the cause of all of his success, as well as all of his problems, you think.

part of you feels sorry for him, knowing how much stress he places upon himself. another part of you can’t help but resent it, knowing it is the reason that you two would never, ever, ever possibly work as something more than easy flirtation and a good night between the sheets.

“i’m a changed man, honey.” bucky gestures to the barstool beside him. “you gonna stand and drink that all night?”

a pointed look is thrown in his direction and you finally take a seat. “you knew i would be here, didn’t you?”

“heard from nat,” bucky takes a sip from his drink. “i’ve got some intel on your hit.”

your hit isn’t your normal vegas regular. no, your hit is alexander pierce, one of the highest ranking government officials you could sink your claws into. you’d met him networking at an event in dc and he had been quite interested in you, which you always liked to use to your advantage. luring him out to las vegas took little effort and much amusement, buying you time to do your research.

you’d clear his room of all his belongings and sell off the paperwork to your government contacts who would purchase them for a steep price, and you would be on your way.

without a trace.

you were good at that part. going off the grid. no social media footprint, nothing to track you by-- you were living in the world partially invisible. you like to keep it that way.

though, sometimes it gets lonely.

no one knows that better than the man who sits beside you now.

“spit it out, then.”

bucky smiles and for a moment, you think he might say something else, but he begins to divulge quickly. information about his security detail, shift rotations. information you could’ve found out easily, but don’t mind having handed to you. but you’re less interested in that. your brows furrow as you look at him. “how far out of your way did you go to get this intel?”

he gives a nonchalant shrug. “far enough.” he smiles. “gotta help out my girl.”

“i’m not your girl,” you say with a smirk. “if anything, you’re my bitch. getting me intel, following me around to tell me.”

this gets a laugh out of him and you look forward again, finishing off your drink. “now that’s my girl.” he throws a hundred dollar bill onto the bartop and follows suit, tipping his head back to empty his cup of its contents. “walk with me?”

you stare and watch as he outstretches his hand to you. despite your better judgement, you take it. the pair of you walk side by side until you’re stepping out into the still warm air, but the breeze offers enough of a chill that the hairs on your arms stand up. bucky looks over at you and begins to shuck off his jacket, making you immediately protest. “bucky, no--”

but he’s already draping it over your shoulders, and you are tugging it just a bit closer to you, and you note that it smells like him. like that stupid ysl cologne you bought him all those years ago.

well, you didn’t buy it. you’d stolen it.

no words are exchanged as you move along on the sidewalk, watching on at people busking and performing on the street, ignoring the elsa’s and spiderman’s who try to pull you in for photo ops. one of them gets particularly aggressive and bucky pulls you into him, as if you’re not a woman who has driven a dagger into the gut of a man for far less, saying, “move along, pal.”

“so touchy tonight,” you purr, leaning into him slightly when he doesn’t remove his arm from your waist. “like the good ‘ole days.”

“oh, you remember?” bucky jokes, and it already has you laughing. “you were acting so coy back there in the bar, i thought that you might’ve forgotten me altogether.”

you shake your head and you stop in the street. you wear his jacket and he straightens his tie and he smiles down at you. “of course i didn’t.” you jut your chin up. “doesn’t change anything, though.”

what doesn’t it change, exactly?

it doesn’t change that the last time you saw james buchanan barnes, you had told him that you loved him. and he had told you that he loved you in return. and you had both agreed that it needed to end now before either of you caused irreversible damage to the other.

criminals being with criminals never ends well.

“not a thing,” he agrees with you. he pushes a piece of hair back and it’s getting harder to remember why you were so stubborn when it came to him. why, exactly, you felt the need to push your feelings away so desperately. “wish it would, though.”

“yeah.” a small, almost shy, smile works its way onto your lips. “me too.”

bucky’s jaw slacks and his fingers trail your cheek, and you can feel the cool metal of his rings against your flesh. “it’s not like this with other people, is it, honey?”

“of course not,” you nearly hiss. “is it like this with other people for you?”

bucky has a knowing sort of smirk. “no.” he wets his lips, his eyes settling on your lips for just a beat too long. “it never will be.”

the tension surrounds the both of you, and you’re the one to break it. you press your hand to bucky’s chest and push on it slightly, pushing him away, pushing away all of the feelings and confusion that comes with him. “we’re not doing this tonight. i’ve got a job to do in the morning.”

you begin to walk, and bucky is on your heels. “so our pillowtalk can be about work,” he says, and you can practically hear the cocky and sly charm in his words. “i made sure to get a king bed. and a bottle of moet.”

again, you stop, and you turn to him. you’ve nearly walked a circle around the block, and you can see the hotel not far off. “you really got info from nat about my job, got me intel to butter me up, and then want to take me to bed?” you huff and even you can’t help but laugh. “nothing’s changed, barnes.”

you set off again and he groans, following after you. “you know it’s not like that.” he catches your wrist and he spins you, getting you to face him. “it’s never that that… simple with you.”

you rip your wrist from his hand and make your way into the hotel lobby, making sure your hips swing just a bit more than usual. you remember bucky laughing and gripping those hips on a late winter night in new york city, nearly three years ago now-- “such a tease,” he had said into your ear.

“bucky,” you say as you both approach the elevators. “it’s not happening.”

he sighs and he hangs his head. “yeah.” he looks up at you. “i do miss you, doll.”

“yeah, i know.” the elevator doors open and you step into them. bucky tries to follow after you, but you hold your hand up. “i’ll be seeing you, james.”

“see you, honey.”

the doors click shut and you practically collapse. the effort of pretending to not love bucky is exhausting.

in a blur, you go to your room and unpack your things. you take off your makeup and your expensive jewelry that you plucked off the wrists and necks and fingers of random passing civilians during all of your worldly travels. when you pick your phone up, you notice that you have a text from an unknown number.

floor 45, room 7.

you roll your eyes and toss your phone back onto the bed. you’re a strong woman-- certainly strong enough to resist the temptation of knowing exactly where to find the one person that you want.

one hour passes. you scroll through instagram.

another. you finally crawl into bed.

three hours. it’s nearly three in the morning and you cannot sleep.

by four, your feet are in slippers and you wrap a silky robe around your body.

you don’t move. 4:30am blinks at you on the clock.

at five, bucky is opening the door, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and staring at you.

“don’t say a word,” you hiss before you’re grabbing for him, pulling him to you, and pressing your lips to his.

but bucky is a smug asshole. as you move through his suite, his hands are everywhere, and he pushes you back onto the bed. once he’s hovering over you, his lips just a ghost above the shell of your ear, he can’t help but whisper…

“looks like nothing’s changed.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes au #bandit like me

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dynyamight · 3 years

Note

“Quit looking at me with that ugly mug” for the ask prompt!

send me an interaction ask bonus + action

“Quit looking at me with that ugly mug. “

“I told you to hold still!” A shrill voice echoes.

“Don’t yell so loud, onee-san!”

“I’m not yelling!”

Under his bed covers, Bakugou winces. It’s worse that he’s overslept, but now he’s already dreading going downstairs to the loud, living room.

The morning has barely started, and it sounds like the damn rascal twins are causing trouble.

More or less, Mahoro, than Katsuma. But, Bakugou still considers him an accomplice, regardless.

After a long, needed yawn, Bakugou rolls his way out of his bed, bare footed against the tiled floor. The cool surface sends chills through his spine, and definitely helps to awake his senses. With the ends of his sweats dragging, he trudges out of his bedroom; the safe, beloved confines from parenthood.

He knows when the kids hear his heavy footsteps, when he hears Mahoro let out a loud, dramatic gasp. “Oh no! The oni ogre from upstairs is awake!”

Popping his head from the rail, Bakugou growls, “The hell you just called me?”

The kids immediately shriek, faces painted in panic from his sudden appearance. Bakugou can’t help, but puff out an airy laugh, as he eyes at their frightful expressions. Like two little deers in the headlights.

However, it is short lived. Blinking, Bakugou notices the kids are standing around Midoriya, seated with legs crossed on the floor, and back facing away.

He does find it weird that his usually affectionate husband has yet to greet him. But, after looking even closer, the floor had several makeup products scattered, open and ready for use.

When he looks back at the kids, brushes in hand, Bakugou can only suspect what is happening. “Izuku, what the actual-.”

And, just like that, Midoriya twists around, face blown with the most hideous combination of bright colors and wobbly line work.

At first, there’s a warm, bright smile, but it quickly falls. A frown replaces it. “Put on a shirt, Kacchan. The kids are here.”

“You wipe that ugly shit off your face, first!” Bakugou yells.

Immediately, Mahoro’s arms defensively hug around Midoriya’s neck. “No! We are not done with the painting!” She pouts.

“I ain’t letting you finish!” Bakugou quickly descends down the last stairs, swatting his hands in the air. “Go! Gather up everything, now!”

Midoriya holds Mahoro in one arm, and Katsuma in the other. “C’mon Kacchan, we’re having a family bonding experience. Let the kids finish, real quick.” He says softly, looking up at Bakugou.

Now, despite their plenty of years together, Bakugou’s absolutely weak to those wide eyes. They string him along to their every request, no matter how resilient, or stubborn he may be. All Midoriya had to do was look up, pleadingly.

And, his damn husband knew it worked like a charm, always.

“Thirty minutes.” Bakugou huffs, walking past them and towards the kitchen. “Breakfast should be ready by then.”

Mahoro awes, “How did you know we haven’t eaten yet?”

Of course they hadn’t. Bakugou rolls his eyes, “Because your dumbass father never eats breakfast, unless I cook. Don’t be like him.”

He hears Midoriya whine from behind, calling him out for being too mean in the morning. No matter, obviously he isn’t mean, if he’s going to cook their starving family a good, warm meal.

Tuning out the shouting and laughing from across the room, Bakugou swiftly made grilled shiozake, tomago, and warmed up last night’s rice. But, even after the thirty minutes ran out, Bakugou decided to not end their weird fun, right away.

Especially after he turned around, and saw the bright smiles from his two kids and Midoriya.

So, with an added half an hour, Bakugou made a simple miso soup. Nothing too fancy or big. Just enough to make the kid’s eyes boggle at how much food was on the table.

And, that’s exactly the reaction they give, when he finally calls them out, a little over an hour later.

Now, usually, after a family meal, the kids are in charge of washing the dishes. But instead, Midoriya chooses to help with the empty plates, ushering the kids to clean the living room.

When it’s finally just them, standing beside each other by the sink, Midoriya lets out a short laugh. “We didn’t mean to wake you up, Kacchan. I know you had a hard shift last night, so I had the kids try to whisper.”

Staring down at the running water over his hands, Bakugou scoffs as he tilts the last dirty plate. “It didn’t sound like it.”

“Well, maybe Mahoro meant to wake you.” Midoriya chuckles, “She was wanting to do your makeup, next.”

“Fat chance. If it ain’t liner, I won’t wear it.”

“If Katsuma was the one to ask you, I do think you would.”

Bakugou offers up his plate, for Midoriya to dry with a dish towel. When Midoriya takes it, he huffs. “Let me guess. It was Katsuma who got you caught up in that shit.”

Midoriya whines, “He’s just too cute, when he asks.”

Like father, like son. “I keep telling you, he’s an accomplice.”

“He’s a younger sibling.“ Midoriya corrects, offhandedly setting the plate on the drying rack. “Obviously, whatever Mahoro says, he wants to follow.”

“Tch. Same thing.”

“They just want to have fun, Kacchan! Besides, I think I look very kissable, and pretty.”

Quirking a brow, Bakugou side-eyes his husband. He meets Midoriya’s gaze, face powdered with blush all over, streaked with magenta and blue on his lids, and black liner squiggly lines on his forehead. Not to mention the red lipstick that circles all over his lips.

Looking away, Bakugou snorts, “Yeah, pretty stupid.”

Midoriya lands a good punch on his bare shoulder. It only makes Bakugou cackle even louder.

Bakugou doesn’t realize Midoriya’s leaning close, until he’s stopped laughing. He grimaces, getting an unfortunate, close look to the makeup. “Quit looking at me with that ugly mug, Izuku.”

Rolling his eyes, Midoriya slides his arms over Bakugou’s shoulders. “Kiss me, first.”

“No.”

Midoriya’s teasing smile falls. “Why?”

“You have that ugly shit still on your face. I ain’t kissing you with it.”

“Kacchan, are you-” Midoriya’s lower lip trembles, “Are you calling me ugly?”

“What- No, not you!” Bakugou growls, “I’m talking about the fucking-”

Midoriya throws his head back, letting out a sad sigh. “My husband no longer finds me attractive! My world is collapsing right in front of-!”

Immediately, Bakugou lifts up Midoriya’s chin, and brings his lips over his. With his eyes closed, Bakugou graciously blinded from the shit disaster on his husband’s face. Other than it feeling a bit sticky, the kiss still felt fluttery and sweet.

When they pull away, Midoriya’s already smirking. “You look good with a nice red lip.”

Fuming hot, Bakugou shoves away his husband, stomping out of the kitchen. And, like salt to his wounds, Mahoro and Katsuma giggle, pointing out his red lips.

He’s going back to bed.

#star responds #BKDK DOMESTIC FAMILY FT MAHORO & KATSUMA #you know i'm fucking queer when i thought 'mug' meant makeup #i just found out last second the prompt meant CUP mug #bdwdb please forgive me anon & accept this soft fic #also midoriya has a makeup stash #with glitters & shadows & colors #that mahoro MUST try on him #meanwhile kastuma is just the quiet accomplice teehee #bakudeku #bkdk #dekubaku #dkbk #katsudeku #FICLET #anon

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ethanesimp · 3 years

Text

THE OAK TREE // TWO E.T.

Pairing: Ethan Torchio x GN! Reader

Summary: Everyone at the Oakes Academy is aware of the rivalry that exists between two of the school’s best students, Ethan Torchio and Y/N L/N. What nobody knows is what a brilliant team they are when they’re at risk of their reputations being damaged and a killer’s on the loose.

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of death and murder, mentions of blood, mentions of death and descriptions of it, mention of suicide (pls read with caution, ily <3).

Masterlist // Taglist link in bio

CHAPTER ONE

A/N: Again, I apologize for the delay, life has been a lil bit crazy this past week. I also wanted to apologize for any possible typos because I’m working on a project but decided to take a break to finish this for you guys! I promise I’ll proofread this as soon as I get some time. Also, in the part where they’re texting, I recommend you check the texts on the Google Drive for context. Otherwise you might get a bit lost.

DON’T FORGET TO CHECK OUT TE AVAILABLE MATERIAL IN THE GOOGLE DRIVE WHICH YOU CAN FIND ON THE SERIES MASTERLIST

Taglist (strike means it won’t let me tag you): @oro-e-diamanti @gretavanfleetlove @victoriadeangeliswifey @cheese-toastie-11 @selenophiliaxx @superchrystaldrug @petit-poussin @bidet-and-legolas @fallingforyou123 @ethaneskin @soft-boy-ethan @teenyweenynightghost @reputationdamiano @cantaraiilmionome @tabi-toast @queen-of-brokenhearts @geklutst-ei @juststalking @cruz-ata @ohtorchio @ethan-torchio-angelo @unitermoonshine @everythingisdefinitelynotfine @marriedwithmarktuan @its-afucking-mess @juststalking @goldenpeaxh

LAST CHAPTER’S WINNING DECISION: They believe it is all real and go search for the body the finger might belong to. (The impact of this decision will be reflected next chapter).

Let the games begin.

You had to read the last part once more, so consumed by the shock that barely any words had registered into your brain. Your hands were shaking as you held it closer to yourself. Maybe it was all part of the disbelief because you found yourself scanning the words over and over again until you had the first paragraph memorized.

But then… then Ethan started laughing.

Short, breathy laughs escaped past his lips, immediately followed by sharp inhales, as if he were desperate to get more air to reach his lungs. You brushed it off and went right back to reading the last few phrases that were on the very back, even said them under your breath to try and make them become real because everything seemed like nothing but a dream, no, a nightmare.

Then it slowly dawned on you after you finished reading the letter. All worry subsided and you had no doubt in your mind you would’ve started laughing too if you weren’t seeing red. Consumed by the sudden rage, you turned to Ethan and didn’t hesitate to tackle him into the ground.

In any normal instance, you wouldn’t have been able to do it, but you’d caught him off-guard, which was confirmed by the surprised yelp he let out as his back collided with the muddy floor and dry leaves crunched underneath his weight. You moved to straddle him the second you felt him shift beneath you, as if he wanted to get up.

You looked at him for a split second. His face was illuminated by the soft glow of the red light. His distress was apparent. He was thrashing around to try and get you off him when you started hitting his chest over and over again. Your hits weren’t hard nor were they intended to cause any damage to him. In fact, he could have easily pushed you off him effortlessly if he wanted to, but Ethan didn’t even try. Instead, he let you continue hitting his chest.

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you? You’re… a… fucking… psycho!” Each word was accompanied by another frustrated hit to his chest as tears slowly fell down your face and sobs rattled your body, “You were the only one who knew that. The only person in this goddamn school I ever—ever was stupid enough to tell it to. And you use it for one of your sick and twisted pranks? Fuck you. Fuck you!”

Your head fell and rested on his chest as you kept on crying. However, your words seemed to pull him back to reality. Only after a few seconds of you speaking, Ethan had already rolled the two of you around until he was on top of you.

You firmly held his stare as you tried to get him off you. For some strange reason, it sent shivers down your spine to see his eyes so full of fear. Ethan was always centered and glued firmly to the Earth. No matter the issue, he was always capable of keeping his cool, but now was far from being the case. His voice trembled as he tried to speak up, “Shut up Y/N! You’ve got no right to blame me for something that is clearly your doing. I have no fucking clue what your stupid letter said but mine said something that has me convinced it was you!”

His accusation was followed by him shoving his crumpled up letter into your face. You had to squint in order to see it better with only the aid of the red light. When you read the words placed at the very bottom, your eyes went wide and immediately looked for his in a desperate attempt to convince him it wasn’t you, but he had his head turned away. You firmly grabbed him by the collar of his hoodie so he’d look into your eyes, “I-I didn’t. Ethan I don’t like you one bit but I’d never. Not this.”

Ethan scoffed and shook his head. He got off you and turned around so his back was facing you, “You know what? I don’t give a shit what you did or didn’t do. I’m going to wash this disgusting stuff off me and report this in the morning.”

“What the hell? Are you crazy? Ethan, we're in the middle of a crime scene. We cannot leave it like this. I mean, look at you! You’re covered in blood because, let me refresh your mind, you fell into a fucking puddle of blood and found a finger!” You flailed your arms around furiously at his stupidity and started followed him the moment he started walking away, “What if this is real?”

He stopped dead in his tracks and turned to look at you, “What is real? A threat that looks like it was written by a thirteen-year-old who just finished reading The Analyst? And the blood… it belongs to an animal for all I care,” He didn’t seem an ounce convinced by the way he took a second to come up with an excuse, and he couldn’t even look you in the eyes, “Besides, what do you want us to say, huh? Oh yeah, sorry. We’re out past curfew because of reasons we can’t tell you and we casually found a disembodied finger lying in a pool of blood. Ah! And I almost forgot the most important detail. We’re being threatened with things that are not only good enough to get us expelled but also get us thrown in jail. But everything is fantastic.”

You rolled your eyes, “Fine, do whatever the hell you please.”

Ethan nodded nonchalantly and walked away from you. A long and deep sigh escaped your lips at his stubbornness. You wanted to scream out in frustration at how stupid he was being, but decided it was pointless to stay behind, just in case someone arrived and found you standing there, with your clothes filled with blood.

——— ☆ • ♧ • • ♧ • ☆ ———

When you arrived back at the dorms, the first thing you did was take a hot shower as you tried to assimilate everything that had happened. Despite the water being so hot it almost burnt your skin, you still spent the whole time shivering and hugging your arms to your body.

You had washed the blood off the hoodie in one of the sinks and still threw it in the washing machine afterwards. You didn’t know what was going on and part of you was convinced you didn’t want to know. Either way, you weren’t going to risk being roped into a crime investigation as a suspect.

Afterwards, you collapsed into bed. Your whole body was aching and, if it weren’t for the fact that your phone had exploded with notifications after you connected it, you would’ve fallen asleep. You lazily felt around the small bedside table for your phone and picked it up. Most notifications were just memes Will kept sending to the group chat you had. However, you’d also received a message from Ethan.

Upon reading the first few words, you already felt the urge to throw the phone out the window. He was being annoying, not like that was a new thing at all. You responded to the text nonetheless and left the phone back on the bedside table. You turned around in your bed to try and find a spot that was comfortable and cuddled deeper into the sheets. Then, just when you were about to close your eyes, the phone vibrated again. You groaned and picked it up once more. After reading those texts, you were unable to sleep all night.

———

You spent the great majority of the night crying and shivering despite being covered by layers and layers of warm blankets. Those few hours before your alarm sounded extended into what seemed like an eternity and you didn’t want to leave the room, afraid you’d find something like what you’d just seen at the oak tree.

You only managed to sleep for about half an hour before your alarm went off at exactly six AM. Any other day, you would’ve snuggled back into bed for a little longer, but on that particular day, you’d jumped out of bed and hadn’t wasted a second before getting ready. You’d run out of the building to meet your friends at the dining hall, where you were currently at.

Damiano, Rory, Vic, and Will were already sitting at your usual table in front of the large window when you arrived. The curly-haired boy was practicing for a presentation while your three friends listened and made a few comments here and there on things they thought he should change.

“Good morning everyone,” You murmured, then took a seat in between Damiano and Will, who turned to look at you and frowned, “Are you feeling okay, Y/N?” You nodded and put on the best smile you could manage. Then you stole one of the berries from his plate even though you weren’t hungry at all.

You turned to look at Rory and Damiano, “Hey Ro, has the new phone you ordered arrived yet?” You questioned. After your conversation with Ethan the previous night, you needed to make sure it wasn’t them who had sent the text. Just the thought alone made you shudder in disgust and fear, but you just took a deep breath in and kept a soft smile on your face as your best friend shook their head.

“Funny that you ask that because yesterday I got an email from the store saying the delivery was going to take longer than expected because of the weather issues, so I gotta survive with this piece of crap for a few more days,” They sighed and placed the cracked phone on the table. You wanted to stop holding back the tears right then and there. Rory’s words were the confirmation that someone else had sent the text and you doubted it was Emilia. As much as you didn’t want to, with each passing second you started to believe the threat was true and that someone had died or was terribly hurt somewhere, and you needed to find them before it was too late to save them.

Then you remembered another one of Ethan’s texts and had to resist the urge to get up and go search for him because you needed to talk to him as soon as possible. Instead, you distracted yourself by listening to Will’s presentation practice.

You were close to nodding off at some point as he kept on speaking, “Back in earlier civilizations, it was believed that any type of illness was caused by demons and—Hey, Y/N!” You hummed softly as Will called your name. He poked you on the rib and you swatted his hand away, “Are you sure you’re alright? You look terrible.”

“Thank you,” You mumbled sarcastically, “I’m doing fine. I just stayed up working on a project and barely got a wink of sleep,” You let your head rest on Damiano’s shoulder and yawned.

“I wish I were that productive,” Victoria said as she played around with her food. Everyone had insisted on her eating at least a few bites even if she was still sick, “I never do shit.”

Thomas piped into the conversation, catching everyone by surprise as he took a seat next to Victoria, “To be fair, Y/N always complains about feeling half-dead from lack of sleep. I’ll never be crazy enough to sacrifice my sleep for a stupid assignment.”

“Yeah, and that’s why you’re one project away from failing Year 12,” Victoria laughed and Thomas rolled his eyes, “The other day I put him in charge of finishing this essay thing for philosophy and by the time I went back to check on him, he was already asleep. I honestly still wonder how we’re at this school. I would’ve thrown us out a long time ago.”

“Look who’s decided to join us today!” Damiano exclaimed with a large smile on his face as Emilia and Ethan took a seat right in front of you. It was an unusual occurrence for him to eat with you because, well, you were there and he couldn’t shut his mouth for half an hour while you ate, which usually ended in an argument that made the whole table annoyed.

You frowned at his appearance. He was struggling to keep his dark eyes open and his hand wouldn’t stop shaking. It was very apparent that he hadn’t slept much either from the bags under his eyes and his slow steps. Ethan was almost like a zombie.

He shook his head the moment his eyes met yours and your shoulders slumped. It hadn’t been Emilia either. You got up from your seat abruptly and walked away from the table without an explanation. You desperately needed a breath of fresh air before you went insane. So with quick steps, you moved down the hall until you reached one of the open windows next to a couch. You let yourself fall onto the couch and tightly shut your eyes as you breathed the fresh air in.

“You seriously need to calm down. Otherwise everyone will start to notice just how suspicious you’re acting,” You sighed at the sound of Ethan’s irritating voice and up straight on the couch. You rubbed your eyes with the back of your hands and looked up at him with an annoyed expression.

“You cannot ask me to calm down after what we saw last night. When will it get into your thick skull that whatever this shit is, it’s real. Those threats were real and if we don’t do something we’re both going to end up in jail, or worse, people are going to die. We don’t know who this psycho is nor what they’re capable of doing. We need to do something now before it’s too late,” The words rushed out of your mouth desperately. The urgency in your tone and your voice quivering as you spoke made his face fall. It wasn’t often that he took you seriously, but by the look in his eyes, you could tell he was just as scared as you were and that was enough to make him shut up and listen to all you had to say.

“Shit Y/N, can you lower your voice? We have no clue at all who could ev—” Before he could even finish the whole sentence, the Head Professor cleared her throat. But your heads snapped in her direction and you gulped in fear at the thought of her overhearing the conversation.

Your heart fell to your stomach the moment she spoke, “Just the two I was looking for. I need you in my office right now.”

Your eyes went wide as you turned to look at Ethan, who already had his head turned in your direction. He nudged his head in the professor’s direction and you both followed her as she walked to her office but stayed a few steps behind.

“This is it, we’re going to jail,” You mumbled loud enough so only Ethan could hear. He hushed you and pulled you along when you stopped walking. People were looking at you as you passed by and that only made you feel worse. You loosened the tie around your neck and gulped.

“We are not going to jail unless you don’t pull it together. Now breathe and keep on walking. I’m not your fucking babysitter,” He whisper-yelled and quickened his pace. You sighed and did the same thing. It surely couldn’t be that bad, could it? You were probably just overreacting and the events of the night before had nothing to do with this impromptu meeting.

You kept those thoughts in mind as the professor opened the door to the small office and you took a seat on one of the two squeaky chairs. The room smelled clean in a comforting way and you let your shoulders relax as you played with your fingers nervously and looked around the place.

Her office had always been your favorite out of all the professors’. The place was always warm and during the mornings, you could hear coffee brewing in her old coffee machine in the corner of the room. There were books scattered everywhere and piled in a way that didn’t look messy but inviting. During your first weeks at the academy, when you still hadn’t made any friends, you’d go into her office and read while you sat curled up on the couch and enjoyed the warm and calm atmosphere of the place.

Things used to be so much easier back then and you had no clue how things could’ve changed so fast. Back then your relationship with Ethan was decent and you had no trouble with anyone or anything, now you were being threatened into being framed for murder and being sent to jail.

“You totally forgot about our meeting today, didn’t you?” She asked calmly as she poured coffee into one of her cups, filling the room with the delicious and strong scent. The professor pushed her long dark hair out of her face and straightened out her uniform before sitting down opposite to you, “You looked quite shocked. I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything important.”

Ethan sat there, speechless, just like you. But then realization hit you and you realized you were just being paranoid and stupid. She’d told you about this meeting weeks in advance. It was supposed to have something to do with your chance to get the sought-after 100% scholarship to study your career at The Oakes.

“Nothing important whatsoever,” You replied quickly and sat up straight as you placed both hands on your lap. Ethan copied your actions and tied up his long hair with the black elastic that had been on his wrist.

Your eyes followed the professor as she dumped a small spoonful of sugar and mixed it around with the dark liquid. You couldn’t help but notice her hand shaking as she poured the milk and even spilled a bit of it down the side of the cup.

She cursed under her breath and apologized as she got up to search for a napkin. With furrowed eyebrows, you shared a look with Ethan, who shrugged.

“I apologize. I’m afraid I’m quite distracted today, but let’s continue. Shall we?” She smiled sweetly and opened up one of the folders on her desk as she sat back down. She grabbed two papers from inside and placed one in front of each of you.

You picked it up and examined its content. It seemed to be some sort of permission slip, “So, as I’m sure you both know, our academy offers a program for all our brightest students that gives them the opportunity to continue their college studies with everything paid. You two are the people with the highest grades amongst the whole generation. The semester is—.”

Her words were interrupted by a few quick knocks on the door before a professor pushed it wide open. He couldn’t stop fidgeting with his hands and playing around with his tie as he spoke, “The council wants to have a meeting, professor.”

“I cannot do it right now, I’m—”

“They want to have it now.”

The professor turned to the two of you nervously and laughed awkwardly. She stood up from the chair after quickly pushing it back, “I’ll see you another day, okay? Meanwhile, please send a scan of that permission slip to your parents and have them sign it, as soon as possible.”

Once both professors were out of sight and had closed the door, leaving the two of you alone, Ethan spoke, “Something’s wrong.”

“No shit. Neither one could stop shaking. I say we go and try to listen to what the council members are saying,” You suggested and stood up, but he grabbed your arm and pulled you to sit back down.

“We need to go back to the oak tree first. Y/N, if this is all real and there’s something going on, we need to find that body before they do,” He said firmly. Both his tone and stare were serious and you could tell that there was no way in hell he’d take no for an answer. Instead of arguing, you agreed and walked out of the office right behind him, but then you paused as his words registered into your brain, “Why do we have to find it before them?”

He didn’t stop walking to respond, so with a groan you started to walk faster until you were right next to him, “You weren’t even attending the school when it happened,” Ethan began to talk under his breath, so quietly you could barely make out the words he was trying to say, “It was years ago so I cannot remember exactly how the story went. You can ask Thomas though, he has better memory than I do,”

“Either way, there was this boy who’d just gotten into college and during the secret society’s initiation, he was told to climb the highest tower at that campus but he slipped and fell like ten stories. Like I said, it was a secret society that neither the public nor the parents knew about. If the story of what had really happened got out it’d ruin the school and some of the most important students would’ve been sent to jail, so they twisted it to look like a suicide and got away with it. The only reason we know about it is because one of Will’s cousins, the duke, was involved in it all and Will told us all about it.”

“I refuse to believe that’s true. C’mon, it’s Will,” You laughed, “The same guy who convinced everyone in class that your family secretly ran part of the Italian mafia.”

Ethan only shrugged and stopped walking to knock on the door of the greenhouse. You’d left yours at your dorm that morning from how distracted you were, so you had to wait for Mr. Murphy to open up and let you through.

When he finally opened the door, his eyebrows shot up in surprise as he looked at the two of you in confusion, “What in God’s name has happened to get you two in the same place without fighting?” He mocked. You rolled your eyes and shook your head as a smile appeared on your face.

“I assure you, we can both be perfectly civil. Besides, it’s for a homework we need to do. And believe me it’s the last thing I want to be doing,” You lied and walked into the greenhouse with Ethan following behind, “Anyways, we’re gonna go to the lake to get some water and—”

“I’m afraid you cannot go out there,” He interrupted. You frowned at his words and tilted your head to the side.

“Why? Did something happen?”

“Nothing you should care about, kids. Just go to class, yeah? There’s someone coming and if you want to stay out of trouble you better leave before they arrive.”

YOU CAN VOTE ON THIS CHAPTER’S POLL RIGHT HERE. THIS POLL CLOSES AT 12:30 PM CDT ON TUESDAY.

#ethan torchio x reader #ethan torchio fanfiction #ethan torchio x you

26 notes · View notes

jean-kayak · 3 years

Text

Chapter 1

Summary: A relaxing summer at home after your second year of college sounds nice, until someone comes back and makes it anything but

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x black!fem!reader

Chapter Warnings: cursing, a lot of sexual tension lmao

Word Count: 2139

A/N: Alright, here it is! I’ve been working on this for a while now, if you’ve been following my shitposts, and I’ve been really nervous to post it, so I would like to thank @styxtm for reading this chapter and giving me the confidence to post it! Hope you guys like it!

Tags: @her-majesty-kiara, @germfart3, @styxtm, @iwascrybaby

Chapter summary: Someone you’d never thought you’d see again literally walks back into your life

"When are you gonna be done? It's hot as fuck out here," you complain, waving a hand in front of your face, but it doesn't anything to cool you down, instead spreading the humid, sticky air across your face.

You hear Jean groan as you set down the tray of nails you have in your hands on the ground, throwing your hair up in a bun, getting the curls off of your neck. "Stop complaining. It's not even that bad."

"You chose to build a storage unit during one of the hottest days so far in the summer," you respond, and he just chuckles as he blindly holds his hand out. You pick through the different pieces, finding the one he needs before dropping it into his hand.

"My mom wanted it built, and my stepdad's been too busy, so I offered to do it."

"You offered to do it. I just came over here to hang out," you say, sighing heavily as you rest a hand on your hip.

You've been best friends with Jean since you were kids, growing up in the same neighborhood, literally living right next to each other, and when you graduated high school, you both ended up going to different colleges.

You had decided to stay on your college campus for the summer after your freshman, not ready to go back home yet. Now your sophomore year of college is over, and both you and Jean ended up coming back home to do who knows what, but ever since you both have come back, you've either been over his house or vice versa.

Both of your parents always joked about how it seemed like you two were separated at birth, constantly attached at the hip, and sometimes it really does feel like he's a brother to you. He was always there for you when your other friends weren't, and since you were an only child, he saved you multiples from boredom due to not having anyone to spend time with.

"I'm almost done, I just need you to help me hold this last wall." You walk over to where he's standing, resting your back against the wall as he screws in the last few nails. "Okay, I think that's it," he says, and you both walk back as you take in the new building.

You both tilt your head, the building finally seeming to stand upright. "How'd you manage to make it slanted?" you ask, and Jean sighs as he lets his head fall back in annoyance.

"I don't know," he says, looking through the instructions, and you look to your left as you scoff lightly.

"Well, those look like the foundation pieces," you comment, pointing to the plates that the building is supposed to be on top of. "You did good though, I just don't know how long the building will last."

"Whatever, I'm done. It's hot," he sighs and you bristle as you both start walking towards his house.

"Says the one who said it wasn't even that bad," you argue, and he waves you off.

"That's because the clouds were providing shade." You huff lightly at his weak counter.

"Yeah, okay." Your body nearly goes limp as you feel the cool air wrap around your body when you step into the house, Jean sliding the patio door closed, cutting off the stifling heat. You plop down on the loveseat, sinking down into the plush leather as it cools your heated skin.

"Heads up." You open your eyes in time to see Jean throwing you a bottle of water, and you catch it easily, opening it as he sits down on the couch. "What else are you planning on doing this summer?"

You shrug lazily. "I don't know. Party?" you try, and he raises an eyebrow at you.

"You want to spend the whole summer partying?"

"There's nothing else to do, and Ymir always finds the best parties." You had been friends with her since high school and by your senior year, you were joining her at a different party almost every other weekend. You wouldn't really say it was the best time of your life, but it definitely gave you a distraction from the current dilemma you were having at the time. "Pretty sure there'll be one soon since everyone's coming back. Unless you have any better ideas."

"I guess I'll go to a few, but I don't--"

The sound of the front door opening and an awfully familiar voice cuts Jean off. "Damn, it feels good in here." The dilemma walks into the living room, stopping when he sees you and Jean. "Oh, shit, what're you doing here?"

"At my house? I could ask you the same thing," Jean shoots back at his brother, and you feel a strong urge to leave, running back to your own house. "I thought you were staying in that city, why are you here, Eren?"

Eren fucking Jaeger. The stubborn dilemma you had to deal with all of your life, but it especially got worse to deal with once you got to high school. Probably the textbook definition of a bad boy, the sleeves of tattoos you can see on his arms and the piercings solidify it.

Oh, and he's also your best friend's older step-brother.

He shrugs. "Dunno. Guess I just wanted to come back, glad I did though." You look away when you see him smirk, knowing that last bit was geared towards you.

You stand up quickly, drinking some water in hopes that it hides your nerves well. "I'm starving. You got any food?" you ask Jean as you walk towards the kitchen, purposefully walking the long way so that you don't have to go anywhere near him.

"I don't know, you can look," he calls after you, and you can feel Eren's eyes on you as you walk, suddenly feeling very naked in your shorts and cropped tank top.

When you're in the safety of the kitchen and you hear the conversation between the siblings start, you sigh heavily as you rest your head against the counter. Of course, it would be just your fucking luck that he would come back.

You groan softly in frustration as you lift your head up and grab an orange, peeling it a little more aggressively than you should as you hop onto the counter. You huff slightly as you put a slice into your mouth. This is a total wreck in your plans.

To anyone else, it wouldn't seem like a big deal, but your history with Eren isn't the greatest. Maybe starting with the fact that you started to have a crush on him which ended up only blossoming once you got to high school. And the worst part was that everyone knew it. You know they did, but it's not like you were discreet about it.

You were just a naive teenager that was stupid enough to fall? Maybe not fall for him, but you definitely were stupid enough to think that he could possibly be into you.

Your inner turmoil is only fueled when he walks into the kitchen, you failing to notice that the conversation had stopped. You look down at your legs, swinging them as you continue to eat the orange, trying to focus on anything but the suffocating awkward tension in the room.

You can see him lean against the counter across from the one your sitting on, crossing his foot over his ankle. When you find yourself staring at his thighs and how tight his shorts are, you quickly look away. "So, how ya been?" he asks, and you find yourself rolling your eyes at his poor attempt to make small talk.

"Good," you answer, not even looking up, patting a simple rhythm on your thigh, his strong gaze on you making you feel some type of way. "College was fun," you add.

You hear him chuckle softly. "Yeah? Looks like it treated you really good."

You feel your face flush warm as you look up, and you hate your body still reacts the same way it did years back. It's your turn to take him in, and you bite your lip hesitantly, noticing that college treated him very well.

He does more than fill out his clothes, they're practically like a second skin the way they stretch out over his body. Your eyes trail over his inked arms, trying to make out everything that you can see. He's grown his hair out, it's longer now, opting for putting his hair up in a high bun, the silver piercings shining in the light when he turns his head slightly. Your eyes catch the simple gold chain around his neck, and you realize that you've been staring for too long.

"So, what are you doing here?" you ask, and you're genuinely asking because according to Jean, he wasn't supposed to be here, and you thought this summer was going to be smooth sailing.

"A little birdie told me that you were here, so..." he trails off with a shrug, and you squint your eyes at him.

"So, you came back just for me?"

"What if I told you I did?" You scoff as you toss the orange peel in the trashcan, putting the last two slices in your mouth.

"I would tell you," you start, finishing the slices. "That you're ridiculous." He hums as he smiles at you, moving away from the counter, standing in front of you.

"So, what's the deal with you and my brother anyway?" he questions suddenly, and you shake your head slowly.

"You mean like if I like him or something?" You scoff. "He's my best friend, and he's into someone else anyway."

He nods, his eyebrows creasing as he thinks. "Oh, yeah. That Mikasa chick, right? She's kinda hot."

"What do you want, Eren?" Now you're getting annoyed, and you hate how you feel that tiny fire of jealousy burning in your chest at his comment. He moves closer to you, and you don't even realize that your legs spread to fit his frame.

"There's a lot of things I want," he answers, resting his hands dangerously close to your thighs on the counter.

"Is one of those things to annoy the hell out of me?" you joke, and he chuckles as he nods his head.

"Maybe. That's one."

"A lot of people don't get what they want."

You feel your breathing hitch when he leans in closer to you, close enough that you can feel his breath fanning over your face. "I got all summer to get what I want."

You gulp harshly as you find it difficult to tear your eyes away from his. "What is it?" you ask, your voice a lot more airy than you want it to be.

He tilts his head to the side like he's thinking as you try to find a way out of this situation. "It's more of a who than an it," he tells you, and try to slow your breathing which you didn't even realize had picked up. That's how much of an effect he has on you, and you hate it.

"Well, I hope you get who you're looking for," you respond, but he doesn't move when you shift.

"Eren, leave her alone, she doesn't want anything to do with you," Jean yells from the living room, but Eren's eyes never leave yours as he grins.

"I think you beg to differ," he whispers, and you scoff.

"You would be terribly wrong." And it really is hard to lie when your body is screaming the truth.

"I would?" he questions, keeping his voice low, and you glance to your right, seeing that Jean can't see into the kitchen, and you jump when he pulls you into him by your thighs. Your lower half is touching him, and if you move your legs, they'll tighten around his waist, so you don't move. "You're not a very good liar," he says, his lips just in front of yours, so close that if you even lean in a smidge, you'd be kissing him.

"And that means?"

"Getting you right where I want you won't take all summer." Your mouth falls open slightly as your body goes warm all over. You need to get out of here before you do something you shouldn't.

"Eren, what the hell are you doing?" Eren gives you a wink before he moves away from you.

"Nothing, man. Just making small talk." He crosses his arms as he leans back against the counter, and you find yourself glued to your spot before your brain tells you to move, hopping off the counter, not giving him another look as you walk out of the kitchen, feeling his gaze burning into you.

So much for a relaxing summer.

|Masterlist|Chapter 2|

Taglist: CLOSED

#nothing changed #eren jaeger #eren yaeger #eren jaeger x reader #eren yaeger x reader #eren jaeger x you #eren yaeger x you #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction

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lilacs-fandom-garden · 3 years

Text

Incorrect Quotes 4

Ships:

Errorink (lol I dont have much Errorink in my posts still, sorry)

Kreme/Driller

Crossmare

Dustberry

Horrorlust

Scifell

Afterdeath

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Geno, to Ink: I dare you to—

Dream: Ink isn’t allowed to accept dares.

Ink: Apparently I have ”no regard for my personal safety”

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Dust: Do you miss the imagination of childhood?

Cross: I never had one.

Dust: An imagination or a childhood?

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Horror: *accidentally hits Error in the face*

Horror: *trying to decide between saying “I’m fucking sorry” and “are you okay?”

Horror: ARE YOU FUCKING SORRY?!

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Killer: Do you like my outfit?

Dream: Not as much as I like what's underneath it.

Killer, blushing: I- Dre-

Dream: I need your chair. Get up.

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Horror: Do you know when you know someone, and you see that they have another, like, life away from you and it feels weird?

Dust: Like when you see your teacher in the grocery store weird, or like when someone you’ve known for a long time starts wearing a cowboy hat weird?

Horror: The… The first thing weird

Dust: Oh, that’s good, ‘Cause I was thinking about getting a cowboy hat

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Cross: You read my diary?!

Dream: At first, I didn’t know it was your diary. I thought it was a very sad handwritten book.

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Lust: Sorry, but you're under arrest for robbery.

Horror: What did I steal?

Lust, trying not to cry: My heart

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Dream: Killer and I were crossing the street, and this dude drove by and honked at us

Cross: *Sighing* What did Killer do?

Dream: They chased him to the next red light, then reached into his window and...

Killer: Who wants a steering wheel?

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Dream: *holding a bottle* Is this whiskey or perfume?

Killer: *chugs entire bottle*

Killer: It’s perfume.

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Killer, watching the news: Someone tried to fight a squid at the aquarium today.

Dream: *walks in covered with ink* Well, maybe the squid was being a jerk!

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Killer, tending to Dream's wounds: How would you rate your pain?

Dream: Zero stars. Would NOT recommend.

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Killer: You know, I'm starting to regret showing you how that blender works.

Horror, drinking toast: Why do you say that?

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Dust: Lol heads up if you try to make a candle with food coloring, the food coloring will just sink to the bottom of the glass, and when the flame eventually reaches the bottom all the food coloring will catch fire and become one giant tall flame that you cannot possibly blow out and the glass will start to crack and then you'll throw your tea on it in a panic and then the extremely hot food coloring will boil and sizzle horribly and then the glass will shatter. Please take my word on this lmfao

Horror: What did you do!?

Dust: A MISTAKE

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Dust, addressing the squad: And if you have any suggestions feel free to put them in the suggestion box.

Horror: But – that’s just a trash can.

Dust: It sure is!

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

Dream: With great power comes great need to take a nap. Wake me up later.

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Fell: I want to wake up with you every day for the rest of our lives

Sci: I wake up at 4:30 AM

Fell:

Fell: I want to see you at some point every day for the rest of our lives

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Sci: If you were to vacuum up jello through a metal tube, well I think that’d be a neat noise

Fell: I beg to differ

Sci: Then Beg

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

Dust: You’re a lying, cheating, piece of shit! You’re not the person I married!

Blue: Fine then! We’re getting a divorce! And i’m taking the kids!

Dream, pushing the monopoly board away from them: …maybe we should stop playing…

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

Dream: I relate to Belle because she loves books and likes people for who they are!

Ink: I relate to Tinkerbell because she needs attention or she dies.

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

Killer: *dials 911*

Killer: hey i hate to be “that guy” but i glued myself to the ceiling again

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

Ink: Things have actually been going really well with Error. Our friendship is in a really good place.

Ink: Last week I said, “Did you know the weiner dog is neither a weiner nor a dog?” Instead of saying, “Shut up, Ink,” they said, “Okay.”

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

Lust: *signs a legal document with a glitter gel pen*

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

Horror, dumping out a shopping bag full of Lunchables onto the table: Tonight, we feast.

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

Error or Nightmare: *kicks “G” off Graveyard sign*

Error or Nightmare: Let’s get this party started.

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

Reaper: Did Geno just tell me they loved me for the first time?

Cross: Yeah.

Reaper: And did I do finger guns back?

Cross: Yeah, you did.

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

Sci: Name one time I haven’t acted professional

Geno: You’re holding a juice box right now

Sci: It’s to stop me from spilling my juice.

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

*The Bad Sanses response to I love you*

Killer: Thanks fam!

Horror: oh no

Dust: *cries* I love you too

Cross: Sounds fake but okay

Error: *A flustered mess*

Nightmare: can i get a refund

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

Sci: If you bite it and you die, it’s poisonous. If it bites you and you die, it’s venomous.

Blue: What if it bites me and it dies!?

Sci: Then you’re poisonous.

Dream: What if it bites itself and I die?

Sci: That’s voodoo.

Error: What if it bites me and someone else dies?

Sci: That’s correlation, not causation.

Horror: What if we bite each other, and neither of us die?

Ink & Killer at the same time: That’s kinky.

Sci: Oh my God.

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

Blue: Truth or dare?

Lust: Dare

Blue: I dare you to kiss the hottest person in the room

Lust: Hey Ink.

Ink: Yeah?

Lust: Could you move? I’m trying to get to Geno.

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

Killer: Let me show you a picture from last night that really upset me

Horror: Okay, but in my defense, Dust bet me 50 cents I couldn’t drink all that shampoo.

Killer: That’s not what I wanted to- you drank SHAMPOO?!

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

*The group is getting into the car*

Lust: I’m driving.

Geno, out of view: Shotgun!

Sci, turning to face Geno: Aww! But you had it on the way here-

Everyone except Geno: WOAH-

Geno, holding a shotgun: No! I found a shotgun! And I want the front seat! *Pumps gun*

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

A random stranger: Go to Hell

Nightmare, tearing up: I wish I could

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

Error: Dear friends, your Christmas gift this year… is me. That’s right, another year of friendship. Your membership has been renewed.

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

Blue: I’m going to defeat you with the power of friendship! ... And this knife I found.

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

Dust: My life isn’t as glamorous as my wanted poster makes it look like.

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

Killer: You know how I roll.

Killer: And I’m not talking about that time I fell into a pile of dung at the foot of a hill.

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

Dream: Physically, yes, I could fight a bird. But emotionally? Imagine the toll.

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

Killer: You seem familiar, have I threatened you before?

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

Blue: Look. I may not be a saint, but it's not like I’ve killed anybody. I’m not an arsonist. I’ve never found a wallet outside of an IHOP and thought about returning it but saw the owner lived out of state so just took the cash and dropped the wallet back on the ground.

Fell: Okay, that's really specific, and that makes me think that you definitely did do that.

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

Horror: Man, I only ever see you awake, do you ever shut down or stop running?

Dust: Oh, I’m always running

Dust: The question is from what

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

Blue: WHAT’S YOUR TYPE

Fell: Anything, honestly, but nerds especially

Blue, desperately, as Fell bleeds out: YOUR BLOOD TYPE

Fell: Oh! B positive.

Blue: DONT TRY TO CHEER ME UP JUST TELL ME YOUR BLOOD TYPE

Fell:

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

Horror: So what’s for dinner?

Dust, staring at the food they just burnt: Regret.

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

Nightmare: Hey, you want some leftovers?

Cross: What's that?

Nightmare: You've never had leftovers???

Cross: No, because I'm not a quitter.

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

Nightmare: You often use humor to deflect trauma

Cross: Thank you

Nightmare: I didn't say that was a good thing

Cross: What I'm hearing is, you think I'm funny

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

Sci, pointing: May I sit there?

Fell: That's my lap

Sci: That doesn't answer my question, Fell.

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

Blue: Dandelions symbolize everything I want to be in life

Dream: Fluffy and dead with a gust of wind?

Blue: Unapologetic. Hard to kill. Feral, filled with sunlight, bright, beautiful in a way that the conventional and controlling hate but cannot ever fully destroy. Stubborn. Happy. Bastardous. Friends with bees. Highly disapproving of lawns. Full of wishes that will be carried far after I die.

Ink: edible

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

'Can I copy the homework?'

Horror: I can help you with it!

Killer: Yeah, sure.

Dust: Bold of you to assume I did the homework.

Error: lol nope.

Cross: Wait, we had homework?!?!?!

Nightmare: *Read 5:55pm*

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

Nightmare: Who the fuck added me to a fucking group chat?

Horror: >:O language

Dust: Yeah watch your fucking language

Cross: OKAY WHO TAUGHT DUST THE FUCK WORD?

Error: 'The fuck word'.

Killer: Are you stupid? You guys use the f word all the time

Dust: Oh my god they censored it

Error: Say fuck, Killer.

Dust: Do it, Killer. Say fuck.

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

Killer: Croissants: dropped

Horror: Road: works ahead

Dust: BBQ sauce: on my titties

Cross: Shavacado: fre

Error: Miss Keisha: fuckin dead

Nightmare:

Nightmare, grumpy: I didn’t understand a single word of that and I hate every single one of you.

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

Nightmare: Everytime I hear someone talking about updog, I’m torn between not wanting to fall for it and wanting to help them complete their joke.

Horror: Okay, but what is updog?

Dust: Updog is a long sausage in a bun, often served with ketchup, mustard, onions, and/or relish.

Cross: Not, that’s a hot dog. An updog is when a new version or patch of an application is released.

Error: No, that's an update. You’re thinking of the fourth largest city in Sweden.

Killer: Surely, that’s Uppsala, where’s updog is the giant spider in Harry Potter.

Nightmare: That’s Aragog. Updog is a symbol conventionally used for an arbitrarily small number in analysis proofs.

Cross: You’re thinking of epsilon. Updog is an upward-moving air current.

Dust: No, that’s an updraft. An updog is the modern version of a henway.

Horror: What’s a henway??

Nightmare: Oh, about five pounds.

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

Killer: Dumbest scar stories, go!

Horror: I burned my tongue once drinking tea.

Error: I dropped a hair dryer on my leg once and burned it.

Cross: I have a piece of graphite in my leg for accidentally stabbing myself with a pencil in the first grade.

Dust: I was taking a cup of noodles out of the microwave and spilled it on my hand and I got a really bad burn.

Nightmare:

Nightmare: I have emotional scars.

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

Killer: *Posts a super low-quality image to the group chat*

Horror: If I had a dollar for every pixel in this image, I’d have 15 cents

Killer: If I had a dollar for every ounce of rage I felt in my body after I read this text, I would have enough money to buy a cannon to fire at you

Error: Actually I did the math, Horror would have $225, not $0.15.

Horror: Fam I’m right here....

Cross: If I had a dollar I would buy a can of soda :)

Killer: while you’re there could you buy me an apply juice please?

Cross: Sorry I only have a dollar

Killer: :(

Error: Hey I just realized my friend is right, Horror would have $22,500 because it's a dollar for every pixel, not a cent

Cross: If I had $22,500 I would buy a can of soda and an apply juice

Error: You can buy anything you want with $22,500

Dust: Yeah and they want soda and apply juice

Error: Apply juice to what

Nightmare: Directly to the forehead

Horror: Great chat everyone

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

Killer: There are seven chairs and ten kids. What do you do?

Horror: Have everyone stand.

Cross: Bring three more chairs.

Error: The most important ones can sit down.

Dust: Kill three.

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

Killer: You're a loose cannon, Horror.

Horror: No, I'm not. I'm a cannon maybe, but a loose cannon? Is that what you think of me?

Error: I think you play by your own rules.

Cross: No way, they think rules were made to be broken.

Killer: Those are all attributes of a loose cannon.

Horror: No, I'm just a reckless renegade. Dust is a loose cannon.

Dust: *smashes a chair*

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

Cross: Are we really going to let Error keep Horror?

Killer: We kept Dust.

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

Killer: Good morning.

Horror: Good morning.

Error: Good morning.

Cross: You all sound like robots, try spicing it up a bit.

Dust: MORNING MOTHERFUCKERS

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

Killer: What if the person who named Walkie Talkies named everything?

Horror: Pregnancy tests are Maybe Babies

Dust: Socks are Feetie Heaties

Cross: Forks are Stabby Grabbies

Horror: Defibrillators are Heartie Starties

Dust: Nightmares are Dreamy Screamies

Cross: Stamps are Lickie Stickies

Error, annoyed: You are disappointments

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

Dust: What’s something you guys are better than Killer at?

Error: Mario Kart.

Cross: Yeah, video games.

Horror: Emotional vulnerability.

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

Dust: Poison is a magic transmutation potion that turns people into corpses.

Horror: This knife is actually a magic wand.

Cross: Meet me in the Denny’s parking lot for a wizard duel.

Killer: *cocks gun* Magic missile.

Error: What the fuck is wrong with you people.

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

Lust: If I die, my funeral is going to be the biggest party ever and you’re all invited

Geno: If?

Sci: Great, the only party I’ve ever been invited to and he might not even die.

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

Lust, holding a python: Guys I impulsively bought a snake, what do I name him

Geno: You did WHAT–

Sci: William Snakepeare

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

Lust: Fitness tip: never stop pushing yourself. Some say 8 hours of sleep is enough. Why not keep going? Why not 9? Why not 10? Strive for greatness.

Geno: Next time you’re working out do 15 push ups instead of 10. Run 3 miles instead of 2. Eat a whole cake instead of just a slice. Burn your ex’s house down. You can do it. I believe in you.

Sci: There were so many mixed messages in that I can’t-

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

Lust: I can’t believe you live nearby, and you won’t let anyone crash at your place.

Geno: You people already know too much about me.

Sci: I know exactly three facts about you, and one of them is that you won’t let any of us crash at your place.

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

Lust: Would you stab your best friend in the leg for 10 million gold?

Geno: You stab me, and then when my leg gets better, we buy a big-ass house.

Sci: You can stab me too, then we'll have 20 million.

Geno: Good thinking.

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

Lust: 'Person of interest' is almost too flattering.

Lust: Like, if the police were to pound on my door and go, 'A man has been murdered in your building and you are a person of interest,' I'd be like, 'Moi? Oh, do go on.'

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

230 notes · View notes

lilbabycee · 4 years

Text

tidal // steve rogers 🌊

↳ summary: tony doesn’t trust his kid and steve has to play mediator, although those duties don’t come without a reward

↳ relationship: dad’s best friend!steve rogers x stark!reader

↳ request: steve defending his soft girl when she starts crying when someone yelled at her...maybe she thanks him by putting her mouth to good use @donutloverxo + what about dad’sbestfriend!steve x reader?...I need me some Steve please!! (anon)

↳ word count: 5.4k (this has no business being this long)

↳ warnings: angst, smut, dirty talk, slight degradation, some light fluff kinda

↳ author’s note: i do love a stark!reader so this was so much fun for me - enjoy my loves! x

The relationship that you have with your father is complicated. It reminds you acutely of the foamy sea that you used to tentatively wade in and simply stare at with a wide-eyed, childlike fascination when your parents took you to the Maldives or Seychelles or Ivory Coast, each summer a different place and a different tide. There’s a sense of predictability to it, a routine you have in a language that is understandable to nobody but the two of you. He pushes and you pull, coordinating your movements in a choreographed dance so as to safely row your canoe filled to the brim with trust and love through the rocky seas of life.

He’s made a mark on you that will always be a permanent imprint on your soul much like the way that water stains the surface of the sand but it’s not as if you perceive that as something negative. You attribute the best parts of yourself to your mother and father and although their DNA isn’t housed inside your body, you’re more Tony’s child than he could have ever asked for. He hears so much of him in the tone of your voice and sees Pepper whenever you cross your arms over your chest and pin him with a look he knows too well - her influence is all over your mannerisms - and the both of them in the charming brightness of your smile when you let yourself laugh freely.

The moment he saw you, barely hours old and sleeping deeply - something that he found out that you would carry with you throughout your years - he’d thought you were cute (all babies are cute and the hundreds of other babies he’d seen in the past few weeks were also cute). But when you’d instinctively gripped Pepper’s finger tightly in your impossibly tiny fist and blinked awake sleepily, he’d fallen in love with your pretty eyes first, the way that you stared through him like you already knew him and it was then that he knew you were his as much as he was yours.

Of course, things weren’t- aren’t always as picture-perfect as they seem. He knows that there are days when you haunt his nightmares, dreams where he can’t protect you plaguing his conscience and causing him to crowd you with what he thinks is love. Rather, it’s an overbearing and often patronizing kind of attention that feels like a thousand sharp needles piercing through your skin. You’re very in touch with your emotions, a quality about you that Tony is sure that you must’ve learned from your mother, while he has the tendency to avoid sentimentality like it’s a disease and that’s where those arguments start, the ones that flare up and spread like forest fires.

In fact, you’re having one of them now. Tony knew how this was going to end before it even began but he can’t help but always engage because he’s as stubborn as he raised you to be. His jaw is set and his nostrils flaring as he stares at you - you’re his progeny, his baby, half of his heart who is standing in that way that reminds him of his wife with crystals in your eyes that make him wonder if you ever wear that diamond necklace he bought you last year.

“You never take me seriously,” you accuse, narrowing your eyes at him which causes a fat teardrop to spill over and run down your cheek. His eyes soften briefly at the sight of your emotional state before he looks away, the painful tugging at his heart trying to pull him towards you. He won’t give in to it: that’ll mean you win. “See - you can’t even look at me, Dad-”

“Sweetheart, I take you plenty seriously,” Tony gnaws on the end of the pen in his mouth, still sitting in front of the holograms of all of the data he’s been trying to process for the past few hours. His feet are propped up on the table, casually crossed at the ankles and shoulders completely relaxed, leaning back in his chair and balancing precariously one of the wheels, sitting in the exact same way that he always told you not to. He taps out a rhythmic beat against his leg with his fingers, eyes darting around the room as he pretends to be interested in everything but you.

His entire posture radiates the feeling that he doesn’t give a shit about you or what you have to say and it makes your heart sink to your stomach despite the fact that you know this man. You know that he’s just putting on a front and he’s really listening because he was the one who drilled into your head that you always have something to say that’s worth listening to. Yet you cannot for the life of you accept that this man in front of you is acting so coldly when his own daughter is trying to tell him how she feels.

The scoff that comes out of your mouth is involuntary and Tony can’t fight the twitch of his lips because it sounds so much like him, but he only lets it linger for half a second, not allowing you to see how affected he is. Both him and Pepper were under the impression that once they had kids, Tony would finally take the steps towards being willing to share more of himself with the people around him. And he did, for a while. But once you hit those teenage years, he was forced to come to terms with the fact that you wouldn’t be his baby forever - you’d grow up and think your own thoughts and breathe your own air in an environment that he hasn’t polluted with his own ideals.

His heart beat out of his chest every time he thought about it and he had to face the facts: he was scared. And so he went on the defensive, coddling you and trying to shield you from the harsh realities of the world that he had to face from such a young age. Unfortunately for the both of you, you didn’t appreciate being spoon-fed by your parents your whole life: you have a sense of maturity and independence that Tony is terrified of and it manifested itself in rebellion, a phase in your adolescence hat had almost gotten cost you your life in more situations than he cared to admit.

“I’m not kidding, Dad,” you reply, your head feeling as if it’s under construction because the unbearably loud banging on the inside of your brain is driving you crazy because he’s deflecting and you know it. A river of tears slide their way down to your chin and you don’t even bother to wipe them. “And you keep making jokes like this isn’t serious-”

“I haven’t been making jokes,” Tony points out calmly, playing around with a bunch of numbers that don’t mean anything to you and distractedly manoeuvering some stupid data table that is somehow more interesting than his own child.

As much as you try, you genuinely can’t help it when you stomp your foot, the loud noise breaking through Tony’s nonchalance and causing him to arch an eyebrow at you.

“This isn’t some temper tantrum, Dad,” you tell him, the strength in your voice breaking down and causing it to crack. Your hands come up to clutch your head tightly in a futile attempt to bring yourself back to Earth, tired of the way that your emotions throw your brain into orbit. Your feet are on the ground but it doesn’t feel like it, your rage burning your skin and setting a bonfire in the depths of your body. “You fight me on everything - first it was college then it was working for S.I then it was becoming an Avenger… you think I’m still some little kid-”

“Because you’ve proven time after time that you can’t fend for yourself,” Tony cocks his head as your eyes lock, daring you to challenge him on his statement because the two of you know how much validity it holds.

“That was one time!-”

Tony sighs, shaking his head in what you assume is disappointment and while in any other scenario your heart would’ve sunk, this time it stays where it’s been for the past ten minutes, perishing in the flames licking the sides of your stomach. He gathers some of his papers and tucks the pen in his mouth behind his ear before he starts to make his way to the door, leaving you to stare at his back as his hand drops on the handle and he addresses you again. “One time that you could’ve gotten killed, Y/N, so we’re not doing this today-”

“You know what, Tony?”

You’ve never called him that before - not even when you’re in large crowds and everyone seems to be yelling Dad! - and you know it’s vindictive and a step too far but it’s exhausting being treated like a helpless child. This has the desired effect, freezing him in his tracks and as he turns on his heel, you know that you may have crossed a line but you can’t bring yourself to care because your fury has consumed your whole body and the heat is boiling the blood running through your veins.

“What did you just call me?”

“Anthony,” you inform him matter-of-factly, hands on your hips while the hardness of his eyes halts your racing blood flow, the iciness freezing your bones while hot rage seeps out of every single one of his pores so palpably that you can almost see the steam spilling out of his ears. “You can fuck right off until you decide that I can be trusted enough to make decisions for myself and you know what else? You can-”

“Hey, hey, what’s going on in here?”

You bite back your next words as soon as that rich timbre caresses your ears and the rigid posture of your body begins to slowly melt at the sound. You don’t even have to look behind you to know that it’s your dad’s best friend - ever the hero - coming to diffuse the ticking time bomb that is this argument between you and your father.

“This isn’t your battle to fight, Rogers,” Tony doesn’t peel his eyes off of you at all, not even sparing his friend a glance.

And as much as you don’t like Tony at the moment, you can’t help but agree with him.

“Steve, he’s right,” you tear your eyes away from your dad, turning around so that you can glance over at the golden man whose presence alone has wrapped you in a comforting safety blanket that already makes you want to stand down.

“No, neither of you are,” his blond hair is pushed back away from his face and you’re momentarily distracted by the hard lines of his jaw and the thick beard that covers them. He’s speaking in that same low voice that he uses to rally the Avengers when he’s clad in red, white, and blue, and you have to discreetly squeeze your thighs together at the sound.

The rational part of your brain knows that this is not the time to be ogling your dad’s best friend but you can’t help the way that your heart starts beating double time when he enters a room and how his warm gaze sets your entire body alight, not unlike the way that your unbridled anger is making you feel right now; the only difference is that Steve triggers a deep desire for something unknown tucked away so secretly that it only awakened when you met him.

But you know he’d never do that to Tony - shit, you don’t know if he’s still holding a candle for a love once lost all those years ago and frankly, you don’t want to risk embarrassing yourself by feeling the poison sting of rejection dealt from the sickeningly sweet lips of America’s apple pie. The lethal mix of sugar and malice would only rot your heart and you don’t know that you could survive the decay.

“In fact, both of you are acting like children,” he booms, his hands landing on his hips while he shakes his head disbelievingly at your familial dispute. Steve opens his mouth as if he’s about to continue, but Tony simply holds a hand up and it almost immediately shushes the supersoldier.

“No need, Capiscle,” Tony cocks his head to the side almost mockingly, his eyes still glued resolutely on your wet face. “I just wanna say this: if you are going to be so ungrateful of everything that your mother and I have sacrificed for you, then you can get the fuck out of my house. You have no idea what we’ve had to go through just so that you can live a safe, healthy lifestyle in which you don’t have to want for anything. The fact that you have the audacity to speak to me like that is a testament to how much we’ve failed as parents because you are the fruit of all of our labor: a spoiled little brat with no conception of the real world because everything revolves around you, doesn’t it princess?”

He spits the endearment out and you can only assume that it is because it has left as bitter a taste in his mouth as it has yours. Throughout his heated rant, your hands started shaking and at first, you couldn’t figure out why but you soon realized that it’s because Tony’s never yelled at you like that before. He barely even raises his voice at you because he’s never wanted to be anything like Howard but today, it seems as if he could no longer contain all of the pent up frustration that he’s had with you that has been building for years.

And because of this, you’ve been rendered speechless with no visible emotion on your face save from the seemingly endless stream of tears that spill from your glassy eyes. You don’t know what hurts more: his words or the fact that he’s still staring at you like a stranger.

“Tony, that’s enough,” Steve intervenes when the silence between the three of you stretches on for what feels like an eternity. He positions his body so that he’s blocking you from your father’s cold stare. “I’m not gonna let you talk to her like that-”

“Oh, come on, Cap,” Tony scoffs and you don’t have to be able to see him to know that he’s folded his arms over his chest. “You don’t even know what-”

“And I don’t need to know,” the broad man in front of you interrupts him loudly and you can do nothing but watch the altercation happen because even if you tried, you can’t pick your feet up off the floor. “Whatever she’s done or said to you doesn’t warrant you speaking to her like that. You’ve fought her at every corner, what do you expect? For her to just lie down and take it? She’s your daughter: you should know as well as I do that she’s as hard-headed as you. You need to take a step back and stop being a backseat driver - she’s an adult now and can make her own choices, Tony.”

And with that, Steve circles an arm around you and lifts you up into his arms, his waist trapped between your legs and your arms gripping his neck. A moment passes when Steve breezes past Tony where your gazes meet and the usual sweetness of his hazelnut eyes has turned bitter with guilt and resentment. You avert your stare as quickly as you can to bury your face in Steve’s muscled shoulder and as your cheek rests on it, you’re reminded all too vividly of the way that Bucky or Sam or Steve (or your dad) used to carry you to bed when you had fallen asleep between the pages of your textbook or face down next to a cold bowl of whatever Pepper had cooked for you that night.

Really, you’re almost convinced that you must’ve dozed off during the short trip from Tony’s lab to your bedroom because when you finally snap back to attention, you’re still in Steve’s arms but he’s standing still in front of your bed. And neither of you say anything for some time, letting the moment breathe while Steve soothes you silently, rubbing a hand up and down the length of your spine as quiet sobs wrack your shaking body.

“Hey, hey,” he hushes you, eventually sliding you down his body and placing you on the bed. You’re sure that your face still reflects your previous mental state but you feel significantly better now, the hive of bees that were slamming at the insides of your heart have tired both you and themselves out and are now resting. You look up at Steve with wide eyes, wet lashes brushing your skin lightly as his baby blues drill into yours so deeply that you’re sure that he must be able to see inside your head by now. “I’m not gonna ask if you’re okay because the answer seems kind of obvious, but I will ask if you need anything?”

You hesitate before giving him an answer, torn between confessing those powerful feelings for him that you’ve tried so hard to repress and letting him go. Instead, you grab one of his hands between both of yours, tugging on it so that he kneels in front of you.

“You didn’t have to do that for me back there,” your eyes flick up to his quickly and you can’t help it when you start to play with his fingers, consciously having to stop your mind from wandering to unsavory places. “I-I know you and my dad are, like, best friends, so I never would’ve asked you to put your friendship at risk and stand up for me like that… it was, uh- it was really sweet of you, Steve, so thank you-”

Steve jerks his head back and for a tense second, your heart drops because you’re sure that you’ve offended him but then he says:

“Y/N, you don’t have to thank me- not at all, I mean- it was the human thing to do,” Steve insists, forcefully grasping your chin in his large hand to make him look at you. The disbelief that sparkles in his eyes lights up your soul and makes a shy smile spread across your lips.

He leans in to plant a chaste kiss on your cheek like he usually does, but you decide there and then that you really are tired of having your dad take the reigns from you every day. You want to be able to confidently grab life by its metaphorical balls and take a leap of faith off of what is admittedly a very steep cliff. So you grip his face between your hands and redirect his lips to your own.

He’s completely unresponsive for several seconds, causing a scorching hot wave of embarrassment to flood your face - a part of you wants to hold out hope and pray that maybe he’s just shocked by your bold move but you’ve learned not to cling onto unrealistic expectations so you move back, eyes squeezed shut because you can already taste the sourness of rejection on your tongue.

But he knocks all of the breath out of your body when he climbs on top of you and crashes his lips back on yours, cradling your face between his wide palms as he slides his tongue into your mouth. It’s messy and raw as your teeth clash with his almost violently but the feeling of his soft lips on yours soothes that ache, their warmth curing the hurt in your heart. He swallows any breath you have left in your lungs as your lips move in tandem with his.

When you pull away because you think you’re about to suffocate, Steve presses his lips down the column of your neck, sucking a bruise right underneath your ear and playfully biting your earlobe. The rough sensation of his thick beard on your sensitive skin makes you giggle breathlessly and your chest heaves as his hands move smoothly down to your waist, hooking his thumbs in the waistband on your shorts.

But then his hands stop moving and you look at him with confusion written all over your face. He lowers his head to your abdomen, resting his forehead on your stomach and your hand instinctively weaves through the golden strands of his hair.

“Steve?-”

“You want this, sweetheart?” he kisses your stomach and moves right in between your legs, looking up at you as his thumbs still toy with the stretchy material of your black shorts.

“Of course-”

And you don’t get to finish your sentence because you gasp as Steve whips off your shorts with unprecedented speed. He takes your panties right with them, throwing them somewhere to the side - you don’t care to notice where because Steve’s eyes are more black than blue and his gaze is locked on your core.

This is when you get an idea.

When you take your t-shirt off, you’re only left in the black bralette that you normally wear around the house, so you whip that off too without any preamble. Steve’s eyes are so focused on the bounce of your breasts that it gives you the opportunity to muster up all of the energy you can, locking your legs around Steve’s waist (your eyes can’t help but travel to the obvious bulge in his blue jeans) and flip him over so that you’re sitting right on top of his erection.

“Wh-”

You shush him, pulling at the bottom of his shirt so that he gets the message to take it off. He does as he’s told but narrows his eyes at you. You almost don’t notice because you’re staring at the glorious expanse of his sculpted upper body. You’ve always thought that he looked like a Greek statue and right now, the way that the sunlight streaming through your window bounces off of his smooth skin and brings out the green in his eyes only emphasizes the fact that he’s a true work of art, a masterpiece in his own right.

Pushing yourself up so that you’re nose to nose with the supersoldier on his back underneath you, you lean down just enough so that your lips ghost over his when you speak.

“I’m supposed to be thanking you,” you press your lips against his momentarily, watching the way that his eyelashes flutter when you slowly slide your hand down his powerful chest, over his muscled stomach and down to his jeans-clad crotch to boldly palm his dick.

“Honey, you don’t have to-”

You cut him off with another quick kiss, moving down his body with the grace of a trained dancer (you can thank your mom for over ten years of ballet) so that you can unbuckle the black belt at his narrow waist. Steve props himself up on his forearms, staring down at you with hooded eyes and your eyes keenly follow the swipe of his tongue over his cotton candy lips.

You take your time pulling his zipper down, noticing how his eyes follow the movement of your hands as you push his jeans down his thick thighs. Your mouth is close to watering at the sight of his white Calvins which are very obviously tented in the front and you snap the elastic band of his boxer briefs playfully before pulling them over his erection.

It’s impossible to stop the way that your eyes grow comically large at the size of his cock, something at the back of your mind wondering whether or not you’ll be able to fully take him down your throat. He’s heavy in the both of your hands, the tip flushed red and leaking pre-cum.

But it’s the cocky little smirk on Steve’s face that steels your resolve.

“What’s wrong, baby? Too big for you?” he teases you in a surprisingly steady voice, inhaling again to continue his jeering, but his head falls back and his breath audibly stutters because you flatten your tongue and lick a broad stripe up the underside of his dick.

“You were saying?” you taunt right back, a smile of your own gracing your face. He doesn’t have a reply to that, instead moving his hand down to grip the back of your neck tightly, guiding you back down to his cock.

The tip of your tongue swirls around the head of his length before you take the bulbous tip between your lips, sucking lightly and enjoying the way that his blunt fingernails are stabbing into the skin of your neck. You don’t tease him for much longer, one hand on the base of his manhood while you relax your throat and attempt to take all of him in your mouth. Your fight your gag reflex tooth and nail, reveling in the quiet sighs and moans from the man above you.

What you can’t swallow you work with your hand, your other hand coming up to toy with his balls and roll them between your fingers and palm. He controls the speed at which you bob up and down his cock and you keep watching the array of emotions on his face, feeling the power and control that you have over him surge through your body.

“God, doll,” he groans, his lower lip between his perfect teeth. “You’re such a good girl, takin’ all of me like that.”

His words spur you on and you really push your boundaries by taking him all the way down, so close that your nose is being tickled by the dark blond hairs at the base of his cock. What you’re not expecting is the way that Steve applies pressure to the back of your neck that’s just enough so that you can’t move. Your eyes sting as he keeps your head down, making you swallow and choke as small tears leak from your eyes. You’re forced to breathe through your nose as Steve groans when your gag reflex kicks in, your throat constricting around the heavy weight of his dick.

“Such a good little slut, huh?” he smirks, running the pad of his thumb over your cheekbone. “You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth, baby, suckin’ your dad’s friend off like a little fuckin’ whore.”

You can’t help the way that a loud moan falls from your lips, though it’s almost entirely muted by the thick cock in your mouth.

“Oh, you like that?” Steve’s confidence is only making you wetter. He eases up on your neck, allowing you to withdraw about an inch before he pushes you back down. “You like being called a slut, pretty girl?”

You nod as best as you can under the circumstances, fighting back another moan.

“That’s good, honey, because you’re gonna be my little cockslut from now on, hmm?”

And finally, he pulls you off of him completely, reveling in the way that your eyes are glossy with tears and your lungs gulp down huge breaths as thin strings of saliva hang from your lips.

“Messy girl,” Steve reprimands you condescendingly, but his voice sounds strained and he looks like he could cum just from drinking in your disheveled state. “You’re gorgeous, doll.”

You can’t stop the smile that grows on your face at the praise, and Steve cups your face gently and leans in to give you a sweet kiss.

“You gonna let me cum in your mouth, sweetheart?” he murmurs against your lips, nudging your nose with his.

“Yes, sir,” you tease playfully, not wasting any more time and wrapping your lips around his dick once again, running the tip of your tongue against the prominent vein down the side while you bob your head up and down. You’re more determined than ever to push him over the edge, wanting to be the one who has complete control over his pleasure.

“That’s it, just like that- shit, baby, I’m gonna cum,” he warns you after he takes your face between both of his hands and fucks your mouth, your jaw relaxed as he uses you to chase his orgasm, eyes closed and head hanging back as he loses himself in the throes of desire.

You bask in the sense of satisfaction that you get from the way that his cock twitches in your mouth and the shout that he gives when the evidence of his release floods your mouth. You happily let it slide down your throat, sucking on his tip lightly as you do. The tangy taste lingers on your tongue and as you pull off of him with a pop, you have to wipe around your mouth because you’re sure that he’s made a complete mess of your face.

“Holy fuck, darlin’,” he heaves, pulling you up to rest against his chest but not before you take the time to admire how beautiful he is. A light pink flush that’s started at his cheeks has traveled down his neck and bloomed on his chest - you love the way that it’s burning the tips of his ears. With your chest pressed against his, he ghosts his fingers up and down your back while his lips press against your shoulder.

“Your dad’s gonna kill me… and I didn’t even get you off, baby,” he mutters, only a second away from pouting and it makes you grin.

“He won’t because he’s not gonna find out… and I didn’t want you to,” you reply simply, lightly circling one of his nipples with the tip of your nail. “Besides, you have plenty of time to do that later.”

Steve readjusts himself so that his back is leaning against the headboard and you’re perched in his lap, straddling his thighs. His brows are knitting together and a frustrated frown mars his pretty face.

“No, I want to,” he insists, warm hands landing on your hips and rocking them back and forth so that your clit catches on the muscles of his legs. You bite your lip so as to suppress a moan. “It wouldn’t be-”

“Y/N, babe, are you in there?”

The two of you still as a knock followed by Tony’s soft voice bleeds through the door.

“Shit,” you curse quietly, scrambling off of Steve and grabbing the nearest article of clothing that you can find.

“I know you don’t wanna talk to me right now, but I don’t wanna leave things like this so I’m comin’ in, sweetie-”

“Dad, no!”

But it’s too late, the door opening just enough to reveal your father’s face whose whiskey eyes immediately land on yours. Thankfully, you were able to pull on Steve’s shirt and your shorts, but you can’t say the same for the six-foot-something supersoldier who has skillfully rolled underneath your bed, still naked as the day he was born.

“What’s going on in here, hon?” Tony quirks an eyebrow at you as he pops his head around the door, narrowing his eyes suspiciously as his eyes scan the room.

“Nothing,” you say breathlessly, running a hand over your face as you silently pray that your dad won’t catch his friend hiding beneath your bed with no clothes on.

“Okay?” he draws out the word, obviously confused as your eyes meet his. “I just wanted to say so-”

“We’ll talk about it later, Dad,” you try to smile and move towards him so that you shoo him away from your room.

“You sure?”

“Positive,” you affirm, putting your hand on top of the one he has wrapped around the side of the door and squeezing it reassuringly.

“If you say so,” Tony lets go of the door, spinning on his heel and starting to stroll down the hall. You let go of the breath that you weren’t aware you were holding. “And give Bucky back his shirt!”

A laugh bubbles up in your chest as your heart warms watching your dad throw a wink at you over his shoulder, knowing that the choppy seas have stilled and the water’s calm once again, the tide returning to its regular routine. You shut the door with a click before turning back to see Steve sitting casually with his back resting against the side of your bed.

“So, uh,” a cheeky smile graces his face. “Same time tomorrow or?”

tagged: @literaturefeen @evnscvll @donutloverxo @stargazingfangirl18

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers blurb #steve rogers blurbs #steve rogers headcanons #steve rogers headcanon #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers imagines #marvel cinematic universe #marvel fanfiction #steve x reader #steve x you #stark!reader

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ateezmakemeweep · 4 years

Note

could you please do a reaction to ateez being really mad that it’s actually scary? (since they themselves said that san gets really scary when he’s mad!) thank you!!

tw: fighting, shoving

❥ kim hongjoong

usually your boyfriend can handle sticky situations well. he has a life that requires a certain level of tenacity and strength that you know he had, dealing with all the stressors and unusual situations with grace.

but the second you heard the front door slam against the wall, jumping from your place in the kitchen, you knew he was mad.

“no, that’s actually not what i said,” his voice snapped, the anger and venom behind it so uncharacteristic. he usually greeted you with a soft “hi,” or a back hug, pressing a kiss to your neck that would almost always make you smile.

but you’re not smiling now, watching as hongjoong yells into the phone. he rolls his eyes and hangs up despite the voice on the other line still talking back, throwing his phone across the room as it luckily lands on the couch.

“god damn it.”

you look at the boy with wide eyes, biting on your lip because you’re not entirely sure what to say. he only looks at you, his face softening ever so slightly, before he tells you he’s gonna go shower.

you finish making dinner by the time he’s out and in the bedroom, bringing your plates into the room and sitting down next to him. he pulls you over the second you tell him the food is ready, his head shaking as he wraps his arms around your waist and buries his face in your neck from behind.

you both just lay there until you feel his even breaths against your skin, deciding to let him rest because you can always heat up the food later.

❥ park seonghwa

you thought you saw seonghwa mad before, the way he rolls his eyes when you talk back to him or glares at you from across the room when you send him a questionable text.

but this, him in a heated fight with his brother as the two tall boys scream and push at each other, is quite possibly the scariest thing you’ve ever seen.

it had all seemed playful at first, the two siblings talking about their childhood and telling you all about their times in school together. but a few snippy digs from his brother as well as seonghwa’s retaliation landed them here, screaming and yelling at one another till they were red in the face and neck veins were bulging.

“seonghwa,” you said quietly, placing your hand on his arm gently. but whether it be his natural instinct in the heat of the moment or him not realizing it was you, he pushed your hand off of him and stepped closer to his brother.

“see, hwa, you’re a fuckin’ dick,” his brother had said, his eyes catching the sad, scared look on your face. “even your own girlfriend’s terrified of you.” and it was upon hearing that it’s like he remembered you were there, his head snapping back to see you with wide eyes and your teeth in your lip.

his heart sinks seeing the look in your eyes, immediately abandoning his brother and taking your hand in his. he guides you into his room and slams the door, anger still coursing through him but now for an entirely different reason.

“i’m sorry,” he says lowly, his thumb running over your hand before he pulls you into him. you sniffle against him as you shake your head, telling him you never wanna see him actually mad again.

❥ jeong yunho

you didn’t even know it was possible to ever be scared of yunho.

you had never not seen the boy with a smile on his face or his head thrown back in laughter. he usually acted as the happiest of the bunch, calming the others down and always keeping the mood in good spirits.

but this, you’ve never seen this before. because even the happiest of people have bad days: getting yelled at by his boss all day and stuck in irritating traffic on the way home all while running on a cup of coffee turned the normally happy, bubbly yunho into someone you didn’t recognize.

he had burst through the door with a dead look in his eyes, walking past you like you were a ghost and your eyebrows immediately pulled together.

“hi,” you say, almost speaking it like a question. but the boy only looked at you and nodded his head, the tension in his face and body far to oobvious. it caused anxiety and nervousness to creep up on you, watching as he placed his bag down on the couch.

and then like when the universe knows you’re having a bad day, the backpack topples over and a few things inside fall out, acting as the last straw that makes yunho pick up the book and throw it across the room. you can’t help but let out a yelp, the book smacking off the table and knocking over the two remotes making your body prickle with anxiety.

his head snaps over to you and his wild eyes soften the slightest bit at seeing the fear in your eyes, mumbling a deep, choked “sorry,” before he abruptly leaves the room and goes into the bedroom.

you allow him some alone time for the next hour, finishing up your work in the kitchen before walking into the room. you see his big body laying out on the bed, his eyes closed but face still pinched with tension and irritation.

“come here,” he suddenly says, his eyes open and the smallest pout on his lips as he reaches his long arms out to you. you immediately fall into him and he presses a kiss to the skin of your neck, tightening his hold on you.

“i’m sorry if i scared you.”

❥ kang yeosang

you and yeosang have known each other for years and have gotten into your fair share of fights. but they were more so a playful banter that lasted for all of twenty minutes before one of you let out a snort and the whole thing was forgotten.

this however, was much different. because you’d always heard once you move in with someone, things change. you’ll see all of their annoying habits and things you wish they did differently, the smallest thing they’ll do irritating the shit out of you.

which is probably why you’re both two weeks in to this passive aggressive fight, a singular bowl in the kitchen sink that neither of you have been touching. it was technically yours but when he had taken it in, you had asked him to soak it in hot water and soap so you wouldn’t have to scrape the spices and sauce off of it tirelessly.

and when you woke up the next morning and seen he hadn’t, your fresh manicure for your best friend’s wedding a reminder of why you couldn’t scrape off the food, you’d gotten annoyed. made a snippy comment to him in passing that made him roll his eyes and shrug his shoulders.

but tonight, when he’d come home and saw the bowl, it’d been the last thing to make him snap. because he’d already had a really shitty day and that stupid red bowl in the sink served as a reminder for how fucking obnoxious you were being.

“i’m being obnoxious?” you scream, “i fucking asked you for one favor yeosang and now we’ll never be able to get it off!”

“then just throw it out, i could give a shit,” he snapped, his voice biting and hard and it’s such an uncharacteristic tone it makes your eyes widen. “if you weren’t so god damn stubborn and selfish, you’d see i’m under a lot of fucking stress and would do this one little thing for me.”

the verbal assault didn’t so much scare you as much as it hurt you, the way he inched forward and his eyes burned down into yours. your back was pushed against the sink harshly and his jaw was clenched, the way his chest was heaving and eyes were tight a sign he wasn’t okay right now.

“how ‘bout you go take a nap and i’ll heat up your bottle for you,” you snap, pushing him backward before turning around and soaking the damn bowl yourself; because if he’d been paying attention too, he’d see you were stressed too.

you both were stressed and annoyed these days and this fight certainly didn’t help anything.

that’s why you’re grateful for when, the next morning, both of you woke up at the same time and met at the sink, fully prepared to clean and hide the bowl away so the fight could finally end.

❥ choi san

you’d heard the boys say a million times that san was scary. that even though he was happy and smiley and cute most of the time, the times he was mad were a horrifying contrast.

but you just couldn’t find it in yourself to believe that, not once seeing the boy raise his voice or get violent. but you’d also never seen him in a fight before, surprising him and the other seven at the company with handfuls of food and soda.

“san, calm down, we’ll get it.”

and the roaring voice you hear respond you almost didn’t recognize, san’s little hands in fists as he pushes at mingi’s much taller figure like there isn’t a good few inches between them. his screams were booming and loud and when you watched him go to mingi again, your shaky voice firmly called his name.

“what?” he snapped, his eyes full of tension and anger as he looked right through you. your eyes widened and felt your heart drop, the way he was looking and talking to you completely unfamiliar.

“what are you doing here?” your eyebrows pull together at his tone, almost accusatory and annoyed, before you hold up the two plastic bags of takeout.

“i knew you guys were working late so i wanted to…” you press your lips together as his dark eyes continue to stare blanklt at you, shaking your head before walking over to the table. “i’ll just leave these here. sorry, guys.”

“y/n, it’s fine, we were just-“ but you can only shake your head and leave, the look on san’s face and the tension in the room suffocating you. you’re not used to that anymore, you’ve been away from fighting and screaming for far too long that now it brings you back to a place you don’t wanna go.

and san had never brouht you there before. he was usually you’re safe place.

but just as you’re about to walk down the stairs to the main level, a slightly clammy hand grabs yours and pulls you into a sweaty chest.

you immediately smell the familiar cologne mixed with sweat and feel san’s face in your neck, his lowly spoken apology still tight and tense; but he couldn’t allow you to walk out thinking he was mad at you, hongjoong giving him a look of disapproval that immediately made him rush out of the room and run after you.

❥ song mingi

yunho had called you in a panic, asking you how much longer until you were due to arrive at the dorm. your eyebrows pulled together in confusion as you told him you were about to walk into the building, just a few seconds later seeing the tall boy standing in the archway of their front door.

but it wasn’t even the drained look on the boy’s face that caught your attention, it was the loud screams coming from inside. the familiar loud screams of mingi, his voice deep and booming in a way you’ve never heard before.

“what’s happening?” you asked yunho, pushing yourself in the doorway to see your boyfriend and hongjoong standing toe to toe in a violent screaming match; you don’t see the boys fight often but you have to imagine this is a pretty bad one, hongjoong’s finger pointing up fearlessly in mingi’s face.

“y/n, i don’t know if you should-“

“he won’t hurt me,” you say adamantly, walking toward mingi confidently. but he doesn’t even hear you, doesn’t even know you’ve arrived, so when he feels an arm try to tug him away, he figures it’s yunho and gives the boy a rough shove.

but it wasn’t a six foot man and instead it was you, a high-pitched squeal leaving your mouth before luckily yunho caught you before you could hurtle toward the floor. and that’s when mingi’s eyes widen and the fighting halts, your eyes staring at him full of fear.

“y/n, baby, when did you get here?”

but you can’t find it in yourself to speak, shaking your head and pushing yourself further back into yunho who welcomes your presence. everyone watches silently as mingi’s tall frame immediately falls, eyes filling with tears before he shoves past hongjoong shortly followed by the slamming of a bedroom door.

the boys try to tell you to wait for him to cool down but after just a few minutes of recovering, you make your way into the room to see mingi curled up on his bed with his head buried in his pillow.

his head snaps up and sees you, tears running down his face as he brokenly apologies. he rushes over to you and hugs you tightly, his shaky, teary voice telling you he thought you were yunho. he thought you were yunho and he would never ever push you or hurt you. he would’ve never done that if he knew it was you.

and while you know that, it was still scary. so you guide him over to the bed and sit him down, softly telling him that while you accept his apology, he has to work on reigning in his temper and being aware of his strength.

❥ jung wooyoung

you knew wooyoung was loud. he was loud almost everyday of his life, at any given hour in any given situation. but what you didn’t realize is that, when wooyoung’s quiet, that’s when you should be concerned.

because when he came in from a late night practice, there was obvious tension in the boy’s appearance. his jaw was tight and his eyes were burning, pushing past you in the kitchen without so much as a hi.

“wooyoung?” you said questioningly but he only shook his head, plopping down on the couch and placing his head in his hands. you don’t know how long he sat there brewing with anger and rage, his leg bouncing and harsh exhales and inhales leaving him.

“wooyoung, you’re scaring me,” you said softly, cautiously making your way over and watching the boy with wide eyes. it felt silly to be scared, because he wasn’t even doing anything, but he was just so obviously not him.

“i’m fine, babe, just please…go in the room, okay? i’ll be in a little.” and despite not wanting to, despite wanting to comfort him and talk to him and offer him some kind of support, you find yourself laying down on the bed and mindlessly watching tv.

you fall asleep at some point and only stir when you feel the bed dip, his arms around your waist and his lowly mumbled apology in your ear making you push back into him.

“we’ll talk tomorrow,” you mumbled, his lips against your head as you nod the last thing you remember before falling asleep.

❥ choi jongho

you knew the second you saw jongho standing outside your apartment that he was pissed. everything about him was rigid and stiff and angry, his dark eyes barely softening upon seeing you.

it was supposed to be your date night but the first thirty minutes of it are proving to be a challenge, the boy barely say a word as you walk to the restaurant a few blocks away.

“jongho, we don’t have to go tonight if you don’t want,” you tell him. but because he’s angry and probably looking for a fight, you’re not all too surprised when he stops walking and snaps his head at you.

“i’m here aren’t i?” he says, voice low and hard to not cause a scene. “so what makes you think i don’t wanna?”

“probably has something to do with the fact you've barely said a word to me.”

but the comment only makes him roll his eyes, the two of you walking in silence before making your way to the restaurant. but before you can even open the door, you shake your head and pull him back.

“i don’t wanna go in there like this, jongho,” you say, your wide eyes looking at him cautiously. “if you wanna reschedule this, we can. but i don’t wanna…i don’t want you to be here if you don’t wanna.”

your words make his heart sink, the sad, scared look in your eyes making him frown and pull you into him. he kisses the top of your head before guiding through the door by the small of your back, finally opening up over the appetizer about what a bad day he had.

#ateez #ateez reactions #ateez angst #request #💌

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ddarker-dreams · 4 years

Text

Kinktober Day 1: Fantasizing. Fugo x F Reader 🎀

[Scarlet Ribbons description]

This takes place in Pannacotta Fugo’s route, which branches off from the main Scarlet Ribbons story.

Description: Fugo has a difficult time controlling himself after seeing you wearing a revealing outfit, and searches for an outlet to relieve himself. Not SFW. Tags: Masturbation, pining, Fugo being a mess... Word count: 1.2k.

Fugo can’t help but admire the dedication you possess.

After a long day of work assigned from Bucciarati, instead of going to bed right away, you’ve gone out for a late night jog. Insisting that relying only on your Stand in fights and neglecting your physical health is unwise. He didn’t have an argument against that, any advantages in your field of work are to be taken. Still, it is almost midnight, and he silently hopes you won’t run into any trouble. Voicing this concern would undoubtedly earn your dismissal.

He could picture what you’d say now. “I’ve dealt with every brand of scum there is, lecherous catcallers wouldn’t do any damage. SR will make them regret ever being born.”

You’re so stubborn. Fugo sighs, running a hand through his hair. The outfit you chose to wear while working out doesn’t help either. A sports bra with a tank top thrown over it, with matching short shorts. Do you ever pick up on how others stare at you? He wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t, seeing how dense you tend to be. He himself fell victim to your accidental charms after all. When you went out a few minutes ago, it took all of Fugo’s strength to keep his eyes from wandering.

Fuck, he thinks, gritting his teeth together. I don’t need this right now. Get your shit together, you’re acting no better than Mista. She’s just your roommate.

His pants grow uncomfortably tighter as his mind roams, the book in his hands long forgotten. Already he feels his heart pounding and he’s only thinking about you. How nice you look with your hair pulled up, that sweet smile you give someone like him, those stupid shorts that have no reason to be hugging your body so closely. God, and your voluptuous chest. Surely you must be teasing him on purpose. You even bent down in front of him -- to get the keys to your apartment, but whatever -- giving him a view clear as day. Welcome as such a sight may be, you’re a cruel temptress.

These muddled thoughts aren’t going away anytime soon. Not without a little help.

You had just left, the scent of your perfume still in the air. Fugo guesses that if you take your normal route, he should have plenty of time to relieve himself. This is all your fault, he thinks. Looking the way you do in front of me.

Fugo doesn’t even bother bookmarking the page of his book, getting up to head to his room for better privacy. Before he gets the chance to reach his intended destination, he sees the door to your own room wide open, the cogs in his head turning. Did you forget to close it? He swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing in the process, at the sight of your bed. Your regular clothes have been flung haphazardly on top of the mattress, giving him a clear sight of your bra and panties.

He knows he shouldn’t. That this is an invasion of your privacy. Fugo knows this, and still, he walks forward. Ah, your room smells so nice, just like your orange blossom perfume. He sits down on your bed, cheeks flushing as he fiddles with the zipper of his pants. There’s no time to waste, not when he only has around twenty minutes before you get back. Fugo wants to get this over with so he can have a semblance of pride again.

It comes as no surprise how hard he’s grown thinking about you. Precum seeps out and onto the head of his cock, a testament of your influence on him. He breathes in sharply, slowly beginning to pump himself from the base, skin sheening with sweat. Fugo starts off slow, biting his bottom lip to prevent any noises from slipping out. His mind roams to the embarrassingly countless fantasies he has of of you.

He imagines you undressing yourself for him, in this very room, shyly avoiding his gaze. Fugo longs to see your body in its entirety. Even now he can picture how good you’d taste, like the chocolate candies you try to hide. He wants to hover over your body, ravishing you like a man possessed, feeling your leg wrap around his waist. None of the others would be allowed to see you like that. It’d be a privilege reserved only for him.

Fugo’s breath hitches as he pictures you sinking to your knees. Of you kissing the tip of his cock, your soft lips would feel so heavenly. He thinks of your tongue licking him up and down, his hand moving even faster as he bucks into it. Have you ever touched yourself on your bed like this? Do you fantasize about him fucking you like he does almost every night? Fugo throws his head back, wet noises filling your room.

When he finally enters you, what noises would you make for him? He already melts at the sound of your voice. To make you moan would be even better, especially since you’d be moaning his name. He imagines your walls tightening around his dick, taking all of him in, inch by inch. The obscene sound of him jerking himself off grows louder as he gets closer, Fugo too absorbed with his fantasies to care any longer. Your name leaves his lips like it’s the only word to ever exist, Fugo bucking himself into his hand.

He’s wanted to fuck you for so long, to claim you as his own, and prove to the others that you’re taken. To let out all this pent up frustration. Fugo thinks of how your body would move underneath of him, the sight of your chest bouncing would be enough to send him over the edge. It’s tough to decide where he’d want to cum. You’d look so cute with your face covered in his cum. Maybe he should make you swallow him to the hilt, forcing himself down your tight throat. Or maybe he should just cum deep inside of your pussy, he’s sure it’d feel too good to want to pull out. That’d finally be enough to claim you as his. When all his cum is dripping out of you--

Fugo grunts out your name, throwing his head back as he comes into his hand. He’s panting, hair sticking to his glistening face. His hands are shaking, head spinning, and shame begins to settle in.

Ah. Back to reality.

There’s no time wasted. He sits up, cursing underneath his breath, and checks to make sure you haven’t come back yet. Upon hearing no noise, he assumes he’s still in the clear. That was way too risky. What is wrong with him? If you had come home, catching the sight of him doing that in your own room, he doesn’t think he could ever look at you again. Zippering up his pants, he walks to the bathroom to wash himself up.

Maybe I’ll tell her one day, he thinks, splashing water onto his flushed face. I at least need to before the others do...

323 notes · View notes

oikawasass · 4 years

Note

IM A BAKUHOE CAN U PLS DO 74 OR 76 WITH BLASTY ASS 🥺🥺🥺 - midoriya anon

hi I did both cause they were cute.

also new posting format baby lets goooo 😎

its also like almost 3am and this is half-ass edited so forgive me but I hope its alright

prompt 74 : “You’ve shown me what love can feel like.”

prompt 76 : “I wouldn’t change a thing about you.”

reassurance.

‣ pairing : bakugo x fem reader.

‣ oneshot.

‣ synopsis : bakugo finally confronts his girlfriend on why she’s been so distant.

‣ wordcount : 2.1k

‣ warnings : swearing, angst if you squint.

a series of heavy knocks could be heard on the other side of her door, immediately alerting her of who exactly it was. there was only one boy in the u.a dorms who could knock like he was about to punch straight through the wooden panel, and that was, of course, bakugo katsuki.

(name) shut off her phone and pulled her pillow over her head, dreading the conversation she knew would come about if she let him inside. so naturally, she ignored the knocks in hopes that the blonde who was about to start throwing down with her door would go away.

but we all know katsuki is far too stubborn for that.

another series of much louder knocks erupted from the doorway, as bakugo grew more and more impatient from the lack of response.

“oi, open up already dumbass, I know you’re in there.”

truth is, (name) had found herself in a bit of a rut, and had been feeling rather insecure for the past few weeks. the first little while she’d been begun feeling that way, she was able to bite the bullet and keep going about her life, pushing most of her negative thoughts aside as best she could. but now, for the past 5 or so days she’s been completely cut off.

talking to her boyfriend about things wasn’t hard for her. she trusted him and didn’t find it too difficult to open up when something was bothering her, but this was different.

insecurity was something bakugo typically didn’t acknowledge and quite frankly, looked down on most of the time. (name) didn’t wanna find herself bothering him with something she knew he most likely would think is annoying, hence the multiple weeks she had kept quiet about it, hoping it would go away on its own or she’d be able to figure it out herself.

unfortunately for her, things didn’t go quite according to plan when she continued to spiral downwards.

she’d been quiet in her classes, noticeably dodging bakugo and her friends, not sticking around for lunch or after training like she normally would, and everyone noticed she was off. everyone including katsuki.

he wanted to give her space to ‘sort her shit out’ before he began pestering and questioning her, as normally he’d want the same thing, but now it was coming up on a week and they’d hardly spoken. a few mutters of (name) saying “cant, homework.” or “sorry, I’m tired.” was all that had been said that week.

so naturally, bakugo got tired of all the silence and went to do what he did best. confront her. he wanted to know what the hell was going on, he was tired of pulling his hair out trying to figure out what he did wrong.

(name) didn’t answer the door once more. she knew she had fucked up pretty bad by ignoring him, but she didn’t know what else to do. and now she had to confront whatever problem she may have caused, which only made her want to curl up and hide more.

alas, when she heard a much softer, much quieter,

“please?”

coming from the hallway, she broke.

standing up with a heavy sigh, the (colour) haired girl stood up from her bed, rubbing her eyes and walking over to unlock the door, immediately going and flopping down into her mattress afterwards.

katsuki walked inside, shutting the door behind him and shoving his hands into the pockets of his black sweats. scanning over her figure, he took note of her tired eye bags, messy thrown up hair, and these fuzzy black penguin patterned pyjama pants which he knew she only wore when she was upset. paired with one of his hoodies she had stolen, of course.

“you look like shit.” bakugo grumbled, going and sitting down on the end of her bed, sinking into the soft (colour) duvet on top.

“good to see you too, babe.” (name) replied sarcastically, turning and shoving her face into a pile of her pillows.

there was an uncomfortable silence hanging over the room for a moment as katsuki figured out what he wanted to say, and it was obvious that (name) wasn’t gonna say anything first. with a heavy sigh, the blonde ran a hand through his thick, spiky hair and spoke up.

“did I- did I do something or whatever the fuck?” he asked, his words a bit harsh but his much quieter tone helping to deliver them much easier.

(name) bit the inside of her cheek gently, keeping her face hidden in the pile of sheets and freshly washed pillows.

“what makes you think that?” her response was mumbled by the fabric practically eating her face.

“don’t play dumb, shithead. you’ve been dodging me all week. you’re normally all- all clingy and shit and you never cancel plans.”

clingy. that one stung a bit.

“so if I did something to piss you off just- just fucking tell me already cause I’m getting really damn tired of-“

“you didn’t do anything, alright? chill out.” (name) cut him off, rolling onto her back so now the couple was making eye contact once more.

bakugo tsked, throwing his hands in the air a bit and letting them fall onto his lap.

“so then why the hell have you been blowing me off all week, huh?”

(name) sighed heavily, rubbing her eyes and sliding her hands down her face as she struggled with how exactly to articulate that she’d been feeling incredibly insecure and didn’t wanna be a nuisance to him without sounding like an absolute moron.

“I just- I’ve just been feeling shitty lately and I didn’t wanna bug you with it while I sort things out, okay?” she explained vaguely, nervously fidgeting with her fingers while she avoided his gaze.

when she mentioned she hadn’t been feeling well, bakugo softened up a little bit. he knew sometimes she got like this, having periods of time where she just wasn’t herself, but normally she came to him herself and told him what was up. so he couldn’t quite understand why this time was different.

bakugo sighed and stood up to go lay beside her, propping himself up on his elbow while resting his cheek in the palm of his hand.

“well why did you just say that in the first place, dumbass?”

he wasn’t a great advice giver, and he wasn’t great at comforting, but when it came to things like this he was a pretty good listener, so he always offered up his ears when (name) was feeling down.

“what’s got you down, huh? talk to me already.”

the girl beside him continued to fidget and play with her fingers, debating on whether she actually wanted to explain to him her feelings, or just shrug him off and do her best to convince the blonde it was something else.

she was ping-ponging back and forth. lie and most likely not get away with it but still not sound stupid, or tell the truth and have your boyfriend think you’re an idiot. a wide variety of lovely choices she had to choose from.

yet, in the end, she decided it would be best to be honest with him. oftentimes, nothing good came out of lying in these types of scenarios, and she surely didn’t want to fuck up more than she already might have. sure, katsuki wasn’t mad for the time being, but that boy’s temper can switch on and off like a light sometimes. so she still approached the situation cautiously.

“I feel just- annoying and like I’m a bother to you with this shit all the time so I didn’t wanna throw all my problems or whatever into you again, alright?

you’re practically this idol student who’s so damn cocky and confident in himself, so when….”

she sighed, trying to find the words once more.

“when I start feeling gross and insecure, or when I’m starting to completely flop in some of my classes, I just- i feel like I just become this huge weight on your back and..” she swallowed, slowing herself down as she felt herself begin to rant.

“…and it’s embarrassing! you shouldn’t have to deal with me feeling like an idiot, you have enough on your plate as it is and- and I should be able to deal with this kind of shit on my own, not immediately run to you whenever I feel-”

(name’s) midoriya-muttering speed ranting was cut off when a familiar pair of plush lips were pressed up against her own, immediately shoving all her worries into the back of her mind. she hadn’t realized how much she missed something as simple as a kiss from her boyfriend in the week she’d been distancing herself from him.

after a moment or so, when bakugo was sure she would be shut up enough for him to speak, he pulled away.

rolling onto his back, bakugo waved her over to him, using his other hand to prop up his head from behind.

“come here, just be quiet and listen for a sec will ya?”

(name) was not hesitant to cuddle right up into his side, tangling her legs in with his and resting her head atop his toned chest. after wrapping an arm tightly around her shoulders, rubbing her back slowly, the boy began to speak.

“it’s my job to be here for you, okay idiot? as sappy as it sounds, when you’re upset, I’m upset too. I don’t like seeing you down, it makes me feel like a shitty boyfriend for not bein’ able to help.” he leaned down to kiss the top of her head.

“you shouldn’t be embarrassed to tell me shit, doesn’t matter how stupid you think it is.

nobody’s perfect, alright? get that through your head.” bakugo said, flicking her forehead gently. (name) chuckled quietly.

“even you?”

“only sometimes, but that doesn’t leave this room.” bakugo answered, smirking to himself.

“listen, I know you’re a badass, and you can get through shit on your own. you’re strong as hell.

but that doesn’t mean you can’t take it. speaking from experience, sometimes it’s better to just bite your tongue and accept the help from people that care about you.”

(name) listened to every word that he said very carefully, letting them sink in as she processed them. it was rare that bakugo got like this, but when he did, it was rather impressive how easy he was able to make her feel better. his advice sucked half the time, sure, considering “blasting the fuckers to hell” isn’t always an option, but this kind of advice was something she’d keep with her always.

“you’re damn special, you know that? you’ve done somethin’ even better than getting a decent grade on your stupid chemistry test.”

bakugo stated, leaning his head back so his gaze was fixated on the ceiling, closing his eyes with a sigh. (name) furrowed her eyebrows together slightly, tilting her head up to look at her boyfriend.

“wait, but what did I do exactly?” she asked, curiosity lacing her tone. bakugo placed a hand on top of her head, ruffling her hair a bit.

“you’ve shown me what love can feel like. somethin’ I thought i’d never know or go through. so to do that, you’ve gotta be pretty fuckin’ incredible.”

(name) smiled up at him and leaned up a bit more to kiss his jaw, returning to her comfy spot on his chest right after.

“I’m sorry that I get like this. I’ll work on it, ‘kay?” (name) said quietly, still feeling a bit bad that bakugo had to go and tell her all this, though she can’t deny that it made her extremely happy to hear.

“shut up with that already, will you? you know I wouldn’t change a damn thing about you.”

and that was enough to reassure (name) almost completely, that her negative feelings and emotions weren’t as bad as she had been painting them out to be.

with a soft smile, and a slow close of her eyes, (name) nuzzled closer up into bakugo, her cheek squished up against his chest.

“I love you, you big softie.”

“yeah yeah, whatever. I love you too.”

1K notes · View notes

whump-town · 3 years

Text

A Cumbersome and Heavy Body

Chapter Six: Looking In Their Eyes When They’re Down

Summary: Stubborn until the very end, Aaron Hotchner isn’t going to go down without a fight. It’s just getting hard to tell the difference between fighting them and fighting the cancer.

Word Count: 4453

Author’s Note: The next chapter is the final chapter... somehow

I bet on losing dogs I know they're losing and I'll pay for my place By the ring Where I'll be looking in their eyes when they're down I'll be there on their side

She has no warning to prepare her for the swift sea of medical personal swarming around them. One moment she’s folding Aaron’s fingers over her own, using both hands to keep his captive between hers, and the next he’s lodged free. Her own panic spikes and she can see his tired eyes snap open with alertness, shoulders moving as he tries and fails to move his body. His deep, rasped voice calling out to her muffled by the oxygen mask they’d pulled over his face. Any movement he manages is met with a hand, his left shoulder pushed back to the stretcher, and his wrist caught swiftly and held down. He stands no chance against them.

She’s allowed to stand at the corner of the room. Left to watch as Aaron’s nose starts to bleed again, he gives a low grunt as his head begins to pound. She steps forward, moving to point it out, but she stumbles into a nurse and is met with two more guiding her right back out. One stands by her side, a hand on her bicep to keep her in place and all she can do is stand and watch them cut his clothes away. She winces at the bruises, ones he’d managed to keep hidden from her, or maybe she just can’t keep track these days there are so many. They stand out horribly-- dark greens and blacks and blues against his nearly colorless flesh. Up and down his legs and arms and chest.

He gives a soft protest as his shirt is peeled open, both of his hands shaking where they lay at his sides. Painful goosebumps breaking out over his skin. He’s lifted up, the head of the stretcher lifted so the blood pouring down his face won’t slide back down the back of his throat. His weak protest is met with a pink bucket being thrown into his lap and he takes it wordlessly. A nurse moves the mask off his face, giving it to a woman behind her to be cleaned, and Aaron falls forward, caught by the swift-handed nurse, as he throws up. All this movement too much for his stomach to take.

The whites of his eyes are all Emily can see and she shouts, being held back by that nurse, as he slumps back against the stretcher. She watches them pass things between one another, doing everything but ignoring how cold he obviously is. She doesn’t get a clear name of the drug they press into him, just watches it get passed to the woman standing over Aaron’s shoulder. It’s as if she’s watching in lapsed time seconds behind every action that takes place. Having no idea what they’re doing or what’s wrong just that Aaron has stopped moving, laying still and calm while they manipulate his limbs. She watches the needle sink in and frowns, waiting for some sort of reaction. Watching for whatever is that they’re waiting for. Hotch lets out a little kicked breath, leg twitching as he rasps something incoherently, and falls limp once again.

“What--” she never gets the chance to ask.

They start kicking the stretcher, forcing the wheels into motion as they scramble overtop one another. Placing machines on every side of Aaron and pulling the guard rail up. She’s pulled back not allowed to follow.

“If you’ll wait in here,” she’s left in a hall or something like one. There are some chairs thrown against a wall and two shitting vending machines with overpriced snacks in one and shit coffee in the other. “Someone will come out and speak with you shortly.”

What’s she to do until then?

“Da-Dave?” she hears his groggy reply. A slurred, panic not yet set in, mumbled “yea”. “He’s -- We’re in the hospital,” she says, restlessly walking the cold hall of the waiting room up and down in slow lazy circles. “Pneumonia, they think. Probably, uhm, maybe caused by the radiation. Something to do with -- with scarring.” She pushes her hair back from her face with her palm, the messy ponytail she’d managed running out the door isn’t cutting it anymore. The cold sweat dying off as her adrenaline goes with it. She wants a shower and to see Hotch.

“It’s -- It’s not a big deal,” she mumbles, speaking far too quickly for Dave to even get a chance to get something out in the way of conversation. “He’ll probably be fine. Or, well, I guess I don’t really know. They won’t tell me anything yet. They just took him, Dave. They just took him from me and left me in here in this fucking room that’s freezing.” She motions up to the unapproachable white walls extended all around her, shaking her head. “I’m sure he’s fine,” she mumbles, frustratedly. “I just wish I could--”

She wishes she could do something, give him a kidney or a quarter of her liver so that this little game can come to its falling action and find them naïve and drunk off winning. She’d return to them in a heartbeat and never go back to London. She’s not sure she’ll ever be able to leave Hotch again, can’t spare the thought of what shit he’ll get into if she’s not around. Maybe she knows too much for him to want her to (or maybe they’ve developed a sort of codependency). But she’s learned her lesson and she’s not sure what Hotch’s is but he’s probably figured it out too. Certainly, that means they have just reached the climax of this awful story, she thinks around every turn it’s here and finds herself pumping the breaks never hearing the right words.

“It’s aggressive, abnormal.”

“It’s spreading rapidly to his other organs.”

“We’ll combine the chemo and the radiation but all we can do is cross our fingers.”

Where’s the ringing of that bell that’s downstairs in the treatment facility Emily drives him to? She knows what it’s for and she’s never heard it ring. Not once. Someone should get to, after all the people she’s seen during those trips, and not a single one has done it yet. When does it end?

Because they’ve done the hair loss. She’s seen him puke so many times and wondered how he managed to still bring something up. Watched him cry in the front seat of the car in pain and lay so still, sleep so deeply she thought he was dead. They do the walks the doctor said would help but unless she’s supposed to be harnessing the sun to shoot into his veins alongside the poison they pump into him she’s not sure what else to do. How much more do they need to take? She’ll give them an arm or sell her soul but there has to be some sort of answer. A place, an option, some time, or someplace where they get to win. So Dave can make them a celebratory dinner Aaron won’t eat but it’s not about what pasta is chosen. It’s about the giant, flared office chair that Derek will roll him out on a little too fast. Smiling no matter how propped up by pillows that he has to be and with as many blankets and layers of clothes that he wants until he’s warm. So that he can rest his head against the side, curling into himself as he falls asleep to their laughter.

It’s about winning.

Fuck, she just wants to beat this.

“Emily? You with me, kid?”

She snaps back to reality. To the hall. “What? Yeah, yeah.” She walks over to the chairs along the wall, falling into one and folding into herself. Letting her head fall into her palm. “I’m here,” she mumbles.

Dave is sitting up in his bed, working his body into motion. “I know you said he’ll be fine,” and honestly, he does believe her. “I’m going to come down there, okay? You don’t need to be alone and I’ll bring real coffee, don’t drink whatever they have.” The doctors have Aaron, he’s in the best place that he can be. Emily is in the worst. “Okay? Does that work, Emily?”

She nods her head, humming, before pushing her hair back again and forcing herself upright. “Yeah,” she rasps. “Yeah, that’s okay.” She wipes her mouth, moving up her face and drying the tears sliding down as best as she can. If not scoffing at herself for crying in the first place. “I’ll see you in a second?”

Dave sighs, nodding. “Yeah,” he replies. “I’ll be there. Hang in there, kiddo.”

She has two degrees, you know. A bachelor’s degree in Criminal Justice and a master’s degree from Yale. She’s not stupid or oblivious but the ability to obtain a college education has never been a good determinant of intelligence. To compare her ability to compartmentalize her life recently would lend some light to her naivety. She might have gotten the grades to get into Yale (and more importantly the money) but here she is sitting at the hospital refusing to see what’s right in front of her.

What good has college done any of them?

He could have owned Roy’s old shop in town and raised Jack there instead of here. Where the local kids run around with no shoes or shirts and he greets each of them by name and exchanges good grades for candy bars. With a back porch that he stands on at eight-thirty calling Jack home for the third time until sweaty and breathless his son pops up with a grin and rushes right past him into the house for water. Where Haley watches him build swing sets and trampolines for birthdays and Christmas with a smile and a shake of her head because Aaron’s the farther thing from handy but he’s going to get this damn thing built.

He probably would have made it so much longer, cancer or not.

But he doesn’t want that, no matter what she convinces herself. That life she just captured wasn’t his, it wasn’t a choice he’s ever had. He’d never be okay there where his father’s ghost could latch onto him, where it would follow him into his own grave, and, if he wasn’t careful, Jack’s too. He got away because it was the only way he’d be able to live and Haley decided she didn’t want to live without him and after all this time he doesn’t want to live without her either but he has. And, if he had a choice, he’d keep doing it.

“Aaron Hotc--”

She stands, nearly zombified with her sluggish amble. The night has worn her down. After spending way too long sleeping in his office chair and managing to wake-up to every little bump and hitch into the night only for this to happen-- she’s on edge. “Yes?” she responds to the doctor. “That’s me, I’m here for Hotch. For--For Aaron.”

The doctor nods, “good, good. He’s doing well. We’re giving him steroids for the pneumonia. I’d like to give you a projected release time but I’m afraid I can’t do that until I see how he takes to the steroids. The pneumonia will need to clear up a bit before I suggest sending him home again.” The doctor flips Hotch’s chart closed, tucking it under his arm and motioning with his head for her to follow. “I can take you back to see him if you’d like.”

She nods, pulling out her phone to send Dave a text, and lets him lead her back.

They give him back to her worse than when she left him.

His dark blood is harrowing where it’s pooled and splashed along his pale skin. They’ve managed to poke another hole in him, she’s not sure what this one is for, but she sighs and prepares for his confused pain over it. He’s attached to so many machines that it should be daunting but after sitting and watching chemo dribble into him for hours they are nothing. She knows they don’t hurt, maybe emotionally as she watches his heart rate and knows the beat is too fast to be safe. They don’t hurt him, though, and that’s all that really matters.

They’ve been lucky, as lucky as they can be considering. They really haven’t spent that much time in the hospital and even less time compared to when they’re all active duty and not on varying levels of “in” and “out” of the field. Less time than when they’re chasing serial killers around. Maybe they were taking it for granted or maybe luck is just sand in an hour-glass and it was really only a matter of time before it started pouring in the other direction.

With a sigh she slides into the chair they’ve left at his side. There’s no doubt in her mind that this is the first domino, she’s read about it plenty. The nosebleed a while back, the first one when he was still working, was what she thought would start them off and it terrified her to see it so soon. Having this time, though, has allowed her some naivety to believe the domino might never fall. That the things every blog she’d read had to say, every book, and pamphlet and article, was wrong. Not Hotch. That wouldn’t happen to him.

But this hospitalization will end it all.

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

He thinks about death less than he had before. All he has is death, it’s of little importance these days in its abundance. Experiences concern him a great deal more. Life often feels like an endless source, no matter how much you take when you return you will find it full and swelling with its richness. In reality, it’s a stopped sink and they’re scraping the bottom. Everything they have is numbered and he watches them find mindless reasons to be here. Reid with his endless facts, spending hours explaining, again and again, each element until Aaron’s tired mind can understand. Never commenting about how these are all things Aaron had, at some point, understood. Maybe a matter of days ago, maybe longer but now he watches Reid silently, with little clarity. Garcia hides things around the room so that she can sneak in long after visiting hours are over under the disguise of getting something “oh, please, it’s super important” to sit with him. He enjoys hearing her coming, smiling without even opening his eyes and knowing it’s her. Her happy giggles as she greets him with a kiss to the temple and a soft retelling of her slick little plan.

He taught JJ to dance before her wedding, which feels like forever ago now. He remembers how hesitant she’d been to place her hand in his, anxiously messing up every move, and stepping on his toes so many times he’d started to think she might take them off. He convinced her to dance in socks for the sake of his toes and so that she could master the motions. It had given them both the perfect distraction, if not selfish, to have to think about what they knew Emily was planning to do. At her wedding, she’d made him dance with her again, beaming the entire time and he’d be lying if he said he was immensely proud of how far she’d come. She didn’t step on his toes once and when they’d parted she’d kissed his cheek and thanked him.

Now she comes in here and forces him up and into motion. The doctor says he should spend more time trying to keep active, even if it’s just a stroll up and down the hall or moving from the bed to the wheelchair and going outside for a moment. JJ makes him dance. He’s clumsy now, lacking the control he’d had not that long ago. Now she’s the one reminding when to step and she takes it far easier on him than he had on her. Pushing until he can’t stand it and the two of them just lean and sway but this time she has no hesitation stepping closer to him. No second thoughts about wrapping her arms where she wants them and hiding her face against his shoulder when she cries.

He sleeps well after her visits and the weary weight of his limbs, though painful, is solidifying. He can feel his body, take some sort of ownership of it before the night calls him home and he twists and turns and is lost to it once again.

The greatest joy he can obtain is not in a direct action so much as a lack of action.

“You have pneumonia, not an identity crisis, let me cut the beard.”

After they cut what was left of his hair off he kept shaving for… autonomy reasons. A way to maintain the semblance of control over his life and his body. Mostly, though, because there’s something about the simple, repetitive nature of shaving that soothes his mind. So he’d continued to shave, the one thing that started this whole mess.

“Look at that pretty boy,” Derek jostles Reid the most about it. “Hotch can still grow a better beard than you!” And it’s funny, it really is, and sort of astonishing. The doctors brush it off, it happens, they say, which is fine. The beard, though thinned, covers his gaunt cheeks and the sickening pallor of his face. In the right light, it does draw more than unnecessary attention to his poor color but they stick to seeing it as some sort of win. Some way in which Hotch has overcome… a way to ignore the ways he doesn’t.

Plus, Emily hates it.

“Oh leave him alone,” Dave always defends him.

He only keeps it because Emily hates it. It’s the little things, you know?

Everything they do, everything he does, is just a tactic to ignore the pneumonia. Coping is, well, it’s not going well for them.

The snow does not let up and it starts to complicate their days. A foot accumulates and it just keeps going and that love Emily had for it is starting to dissipate. She gets snowed in, too much snow falling and she can’t get it cleared to leave her house. It’s really not that big of a deal that he spends a single day alone but it does scare her about what could happen if no one is there.

She calls him but he’s started this awful habit of not picking his phone up or forgetting to charge it. He doesn’t answer.

He considers this perfect timing.

He doesn’t sleep well that night at all. He can’t get comfortable and maxed out on painkillers and his oxygen at a poor level but stable, each second feels like hours. A nurse comes in every so often, coaching him through breathing deeply and evenly, but he ends up with a nebulizer or a coughing fit. He does fall asleep for a few hours a little after one in the morning. Chest aching from the coughs, a sharp cutting pain across his ribs, he’s too tired to stay away. He’s vaguely away of people moving around him, the mask coming back down over his face.

When he wakes, just a few minutes before Emily calls, he’s in a panic. Laid out on his back, sucking in weak, thin breathes around lung fulls of fluid. There’s a moment, suspended, light-headed where he feels the hands of various staff members on him. They speak to him but he’s moments behind, hearing their warning but not understanding until his brain is on fire and he’s sitting more upright than he had been before.

He tries to pull in a breath and can’t. On the right side of his chest, is a sharp pain that increases to stabbing when he tries to keep breathing. His chest tight like a vice, as if decreasing the size of which his lung can expand.

“Just keep breathing Agent Hotchner.”

He watches the doctor pull out a needle, his vision swimming out of focus as he’s reclined back.

“The needle aspiration isn’t going to work--” It certainly doesn’t feel like it’s helping. “Hand me a scalpel.”

His last thought, just as the scalpel breaks his skin and the doctor grunts as he manipulates the wound he’s just created, is that Emily is going to be fucking pissed when she comes back. He’s just not sure if that anger is going to be pointed his way or theirs.

Derek comes through and spends his day shoveling everyone’s drive-ways with this wacky machine she’s never seen before and hits her house first, freeing her. As grateful as she is, she sends him off with a rushed appreciative tap to the butt and leaves. Luckily most of the machines they brought in have been taken away. That doesn’t mean they don’t tell her what happened.

“We had to intubate--”

She can see him in the bed from here. His hospital gown just sort of thrown over his chest and loose, oversized material leaves him bare enough that she can see the tubes and wires sneaking here and there. Crossed and varying in color and size. Her eyes are drawn to the chest tube-- a thin white thing that protrudes between his ribs, the gown raised to leave it easily accessible. Though she knows it’s not life-threatening, it’s a taunt just being here. For now, it’s a wound easily fixable. It’ll take longer for his body to heal but it’ll go away eventually. It’s just the beginning.

“He’s alright now?” Calm overcomes her and instead of seething with the anger that she feels, all she knows is this strange gratitude that it wasn’t all somehow much worse. That she doesn’t have to come in and see the tube, his head extended back and body motionless. Not even his breaths his own. That he’s just beyond this door watching whatever daytime TV channel Reid left on last time he was here.

The doctor is expecting there to be more of a fight, there typically is. All he finds is a weary, tiredness. “He’s doing much better. His oxygen has improved and we hope to move on from the mask this afternoon to something less obstructive like a canal.”

She nods, “and the chest tube? When can you take that out?”

The doctor smiles, realizing his potentially hopeful news. “The fluid from his lungs is draining nicely, so with some luck and if he continues to react well to the treatment we’re considering removing the chest tube and releasing him by the end of the week.”

She knows better than to get hopeful, she nods. “Okay.” She nods her head towards the door, “can I?”

The doctor nods and she leaves him there in the hall.

“I see you’ve been busy.”

He means to nod but winces, moving his left hand over his chest to lightly touch the ribs the tube sits between. “Something like that,” he says, pulling clumsily at the mask until he manages to pull it down under his chin. “Still enjoying the snow,” he motions to her coat, a single finger and a grin pointing out the small collection she has of it still on her.

Her sigh is answer enough and she bats it away, flicking some at him for good measure. “I hate it,” she puffs, falling into the chair beside him. Being here again, having him just a foot away soothes her nerves more than she thought possible. It makes her feel kind of silly for being so anxious in the first place but then she looks over and sees the tube and the deep angry wound around it and remembers why she was scared in the first place. “What’re you watching?” she asks, standing back up. She goes to the little closet near the door, pulling down on the blankets the nurses showed her are kept there. It’s nothing to her, all of this, and him it’s all just so… normal.

Careful to spread one over him, she pulls the other around herself. Waiting a few hovering seconds for him to tuck himself underneath it and settle before she sits back down.

With a tired sigh, looking every bit as exhausted as she feels, he mumbles, “Judge Judy.”

She glances at him, smirking because he’ll never admit it but he loves Judge Judy. Loves the mindless drama. It is nice, though, and she soaks it in. She couldn’t sleep last night and couldn’t sit still in that house without him. She’d washed all the bedsheets, made the beds, washed dishes, and even mopped. All for the night to fall and for her to, once again, find herself stuck. Can’t sleep and can’t relax.

“I missed you yesterday,” he admits, watching her eyes drop shut as she falls asleep.

She hums, squishing herself deeper into the chair. She’s not ready to admit just how much she missed him-- okay, maybe she’s a little dependent on him but it’s hard not to miss someone you see every day. “I’m sure you did,” she sneaks a glance up at him, smiling. “Poor old Hotch, nobody here to eat his jello or sit around and watch Judge Judy with him.”It makes him smile and that’s worth everything. “I missed you too.”

Her phone goes off and she spares it a glance before frowning. He raises an eyebrow and she shakes her head, “Reid.” She answers it and hears exactly what she knew was coming. She nods her head along as he speaks and agrees to help him. “Okay, be there in a second. See ya.” She pockets her phone. “He’s a genius but he can’t drive in the snow. He needs me to come pick him up.” Leaning down she kisses Aaron’s forehead and rolls her eyes. It’s snowing hard still and she’s driving Hotch’s SUV so she can get through it and besides he wants to come here anyway so it’s not that big of a deal. One ride isn’t going to kill her. “Behave,” she mumbles, poking his arm and she means and he knows it. “I love you but I will kick your ass when I come back, got me?”

He glances at her and moves his eyes back to Judge Judy, “I got ya.” It doesn’t occur to him to return the sentiment. This is the third time she’s told him that she loves him and he hasn’t said it back once. Not verbally and he’s slacking in the “showing” it department. But he hasn’t got the fear that she does, he doesn’t think he’ll run out of time to say it back to her.

That makes him just as naïve as she is.

@laiba-the-person, @emily-hottie-prentiss, @unionjackpillow, @clockedstar, @baumarvel, @blakeprentiss, @qvid-pro-qvo, @aaron-hotchner187, @ssalavellan, @lazyhater

#so....#what do we think?#are we enjoying ourselves?#I certainly hope so #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #spencer reid #david rossi #penelope garcia #derek morgan

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kjhmyg · 4 years

Text

rough edges pt. 4 (m)

pairing: jungkook | (f) reader genre: college!au, badboy!jk warnings: mentions of drugs, implied sex word count: 11K

1 / 2 / 3 / Part 4 / 5

author’s note: no smut in this chapter folks, but i’m posting the next one real soon and you better hold on to your panties for that one. i wanted to show more of jungkook’s pov in this one. enjoy!

Jungkook makes a bee line in the direction of the toilets. He turns the corner at the far end of the dance floor and enters a long corridor. He turns right in the direction of the men’s room, then stops halfway, leaning against the wall that separates the area from the dance floor. The music isn’t as loud here and he sighs, being able to hear his own thoughts for the first time tonight. A couple of other club goers walk past him. He waits for them to be out of sight before digging into the inner pocket of his jacket, taking out his phone. Swiping the screen, he finds multiple notifications of text messages from you. He’s smiling before he even opens them.

They’re mostly pictures of you, back home, where you’re spending Christmas and New Year’s. You’ll only be back in two weeks and he’s counting down the days till then. When you mentioned going home for the holidays, he looked a little down. Not because he didn’t want you to be with family, but because he didn’t want to be without you. You had asked if he wanted to come home with you, but then you both decided it might be a little too early for that. Also, he’s deathly afraid of your dad after hearing how much of a perfectionist the man is. But not wanting him to feel lonely, you promised to send him photos whenever you can.

“I’ll be fine.” He says, tightening the scarf wrapped around your neck. “Besides, Jimin and a few of the guys are gonna be around. I won’t be alone.”

“Alright.” You pout, asking for a kiss. “I’ll miss you.”

The train horn sounds, signalling that it’s about to depart soon. Both of you look in the direction of the train where other commuters are hurrying aboard. “I’ll miss you too, baby. Take care and call me when you get there.”

“I will. I’ll send you lots of pics.” You nod, smiling. You were so excited to go back home but now, having to leave Jungkook behind has you questioning whether you really have to go. “Stay out of trouble, okay?”

He chuckles, kissing your forehead. “I’ll try.”

"See you next year then." You say, lifting your bag over your shoulder. You're sad about having to leave him behind. "Merry Christmas. And happy new year."

"Okay come on Santa, you're gonna miss your train if you don't get on now."

You giggle as he directs you to the train car door. "One more thing." He tilts his head and grins when you stop yourself from getting on the train, and turn to face him instead. You're so stubborn.

"What is it?"

"I love you."

You're still so shy about saying it so openly. He grabs your face and kisses you deeply. "I love you too."

The platform guard starts whistling and you hurry up the train. Jungkook bites his lip at how cute you are, then there’s a sinking feeling in his heart. He doesn’t like seeing you go, even if it’s just for a couple of weeks. But he’d rather not show it to you, because he knows you’d feel bad about it. You rush to your seat and wave to him from the window. He watches from the platform as your train departs, and until he can no longer see you.

He scrolls through the photos you send, noting the family members and friends in some of them but honestly, his eyes only look for you. The scrolling stops when he lands on a photo of you in a dressing room, trying on a light blue dress. It hugs your figure nicely. Too nicely. You definitely know what you’re doing sending him that photo. Oh the things he would do to you if you were standing in front of him right now in that dress.

He closes the chat and clicks on a private folder in his gallery. His tongue comes out to wet his lips and he gulps, suddenly feeling very thirsty as he looks through the photos and videos he has of you. Specifically, a video you sent last night, where you’re laying in bed in your nightgown. Only showing from the neck down at first, the camera then pans to where you’re lifting the fabric up to reveal your bare body underneath. Your hands trace your skin from the top of your chest all the way down, and your fingers find their way to your⎯

“Damn. Does she have a sister?”

Jungkook jolts from his position, pressing the phone to his chest. The other guy chuckles, crossing his arms and leans against the wall, facing Jungkook.

“What the fuck. “ Jungkook breathes, positive he’s just had a heart attack. He looks to the side where Suga stands all smug. “Are you trying to kill me? How long have you been standing here?”

“Long enough.” He winks and Jungkook groans. Jungkook locks his phone and shoves it safely back into the pocket it came from. Suga continues to observe Jungkook. How he gets all clammy when the topic of you comes up. Jungkook should know better than to try and keep secrets from him. “You know you shouldn’t have your personal phone on during work. Much less use it.”

“I know I just...nevermind.”

“It’s that girl, isn’t it?” He smiles his signature gummy smile. “Y/N?”

Jungkook scoffs way too quickly, only confirming Suga’s theory. He raises a brow at Jungkook, who shakes his head and walks off, back towards the main area of the club. He rests against the bar and orders an iced tea without thinking much of it. When Suga joins him, he frowns. “What now?” Jungkook asks, noticing his expression.

“Iced tea?” Suga nods towards the drink and Jungkook blinks, looking at it. “Why are you drinking iced tea?”

Jungkook can’t admit it’s because iced tea is your regular order when you eat out, and it kind of grew on him. He pushes the drink away. “It’s...refreshing?”

Suga laughs, then motions for Jungkook to follow him. They walk past the crowd of people, towards the back exit where security guards the door; one on the inside and one outside. They exchange nods, stepping out into the back alley to find a quiet space, away from listening ears. They lean against a fence wall separating the club ground from a more sophisticated version next door; a gentlemen’s club which they’ve only been to once. It’s a huge contrast. Same type of business just different target audience.

“I’m not stupid.” Suga takes a box of cigarettes out of his pocket and lights one up. “She’s more than a friend, isn’t she?”

“Who?”

“Drop the act.” He rolls his eyes with a shake of his head.

Jungkook drops his head into his hands and groans. Amused by his younger brother, Suga chuckles, ruffling Jungkook’s hair. It’s been a while since he’s seen Jungkook this vulnerable and he’s enjoying it.

It’s been almost two months since the night Suga and you met. Although Jungkook tried his best to redirect the conversation every time a question was sent your way, at the very least, you had given Suga your name. Would’ve been impolite not to, anyway. Suga put two and two together. It became all the more apparent to him why he’s been seeing less and less of Jungkook at work, why he never stays longer than he needs to anymore, and why the car always smells like sex.

“You’re not as slick as you think you are. I’m disappointed.”

Jungkook sighs, then looks at him as he takes a slow, long draw of the cigarette. "Sorry. I know I shouldn't get myself attached to a girl especiall⎯"

"No, not that." Suga smiles. He lowers his voice, "We work with drugs, among other things, so keeping secrets should be your forte. Yet, I find you in a corner, jacking off to a video of your girl."

"I was not⎯" Jungkook pinches the bridge of his nose. "I was just...relieving some tension."

“Right.” Suga throws his half-used cigarette on the ground and steps on it. He crosses his arms across his chest and expression turns serious. Jungkook knows that look. It means he’s thinking over something important. He waits patiently for the older guy to speak. “Listen. Don’t think the others haven’t noticed how distant you’ve been. They don’t know about Y/N yet. You’ve got to be more careful.

“I”ve been covering for you. I told Captain and Lieutenant that your university’s keeping a close eye on you. So you had to lay low. I’m just telling you this so our stories check out. The boss is here. Big boss. And he’s called for us to see him in a bit.”

“What, why? Shit, are we in trouble? This is all my fault.” Jungkook fidgets in his spot. The boss seldom makes an appearance. There’s usually an underboss who passes the necessary information to their captain or lieutenant, who then passes it to them.

"Calm down." Suga frowns. "Since when do you get nervous? You better get yourself together. He's expecting us right about now. Come on, Ace."

Jungkook straightens himself up. Suga walks ahead, back to the club and before Jungkook trails behind, he’s grabbing for his phone again. But this time to switch it off. He doesn’t usually have it on, but he misses you. And waiting till after every shift to be able to see you is torture. Now that it’s off, he can focus. He has to. Suga stops by the door, waiting for him to catch up and they head up to the second floor of the building, down narrow corridors before reaching a room guarded by two of their colleagues. They greet each other and one of the two opens the door for them.

It leads them to a room with a gambling table in the middle. Everyone at the table is serious, silently observing their opponents. Inside, there are four other guards, one by the door, one by the table, and two standing in front of a second door to the back of the room where they’re headed. All of them armed. The two walk quietly across the room and wait as the guards make their presence known to the boss. It’s a makeshift office, where Mr. Kim waits for them. They enter once they hear him call out for them.

“Sit down.” He says as soon as they step inside. The lieutenant, who was sitting on the other side of the table across from Kim, gets up and smiles at them as he takes his leave. At the very least they know it won’t be bad news if he’s not leaving the room looking sullen. They take their seats and wait for instructions.

Contrary to what anyone would expect the boss to look like, he has a kind face. Like someone you’d see in the supermarket grocery shopping for his kids, which makes it easy to get comfortable. That is, until he gets angry. Neither of them have experienced it personally, yet. And they hope not to after all they’ve heard about him. He’s not the boss for nothing.

He gets right down to business with the boys, sliding a tablet across the desk towards them. On the screen, there’s a picture of a vacated building. It looks similar to the one they’re in.

“This is…?” Suga asks.

“A new location.” Kim replies, a smile on his face. “Abandoned a few years ago after it caught fire. Pretty damaged but we’ve got men working on it already. It’ll look good when it’s done in about a month.”

Jungkook notices the address at the bottom of the photo. He thinks about it for a while before realising he knows where this is. “Wait. This is in our district.”

Kim smiles and nods. “It is.”

Jungkook glances at Suga and shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Suga sends him a look that tells him to keep cool. “Sir, is there a reason you’re setting up the new location in my area? I mean, based on my numbers, I think I’ve been pretty consistent in my dealings⎯”

“Calm down.” He chuckles, leaning back into his chair. “Always so serious. No wonder you’re so good at what you do. But no, we’re expanding because business is good. Especially in your district. Stressed college kids who need help winding down, looking for some fun. We’re just bringing the party to them. It’ll make things easier for you.”

“But boss, the cops are gonna be all over the place.” Suga says. “We definitely can’t move as freely there, like we do here. One slip up and it’s over.”

“So don’t slip up.” He says casually, then laughs. “But ah, you’re right. So maybe until we’re clear, we don’t move the drugs there. Let the cops see it’s just another nightclub. Till then, you can continue pushing the drugs as you normally do. Then once we’re clear, we open up business. I’m sure you can figure out the timing, I’ll leave that to you.”

The boys nod. Jungkook sees the appeal, it’ll definitely be easier to have a base in the district itself. It would save him and Suga a lot of time than having to come down all the way to this club to get supplies.

“So who’s the lead on this? The Captain?” Suga asks.

“Didn’t you hear me?” Kim says. “I’m leaving it to you. Both of you will oversee the entire movement there.”

“Us?” Jungkook and Suga speak in unison.

“Yup.” He nods, taking back the tablet. “I’ve been hearing good things about the two of you. If you’re as good as they say, then maybe...you don’t need to answer to anyone anymore.”

“Wait, what are you saying?”

“You two will manage the place. And…” Kim smiles, taking out a black notebook from his drawer and starts to write. “At the same time, you’ll be training some new members. This is supposed to be the Lieutenant’s job but I want you two to have a go at it. The new soldiers will then take over your place in a few years because by then, after Ace is done with college or whatever, you won’t be pushers anymore. I’ll want you on the team. Maybe a captain. Or co-captains. We’ll see.”

Suga and Jungkook look at each other, then back at Kim. There's an obvious glee on Suga’s part. In this business, the only way is up. They don’t take their instructions straight from Kim, there’s usually a captain giving them the orders. But now they’re getting a chance to be captains themselves. Jungkook remains poker-faced as he usually does. On the inside though, he’s a little conflicted. Suga’s happy, is he supposed to be happy too? He thinks about you. Would you be happy?

The boss clears his throat, snapping Jungkook out of his thoughts. He reaches under the desk for a small black briefcase and places it nicely on the table. It unlocks with a click and inside, stacks of money which he’s grabbing by the bundle. He starts counting and places five grand in hundred dollar bills on the table, in front of each boy. The two of them remain seated, looking at the money in front of them. Jungkook looks to Suga quizzically.

“Sir, what’s this for?” Suga asks, attempting to sound casual. “We got our pay from the captain two weeks ago.”

"Just a little Christmas gift from me." He winks.

Again, Jungkook waits for Suga to move before he does, only reaches for the money when the older boy does. He folds the stack in half and keeps it safe in his jacket pocket.

“One more thing.” Kim says just as they start to get up. “I need you to track someone down.” He slides the tablet back to them, this time there’s a photo of a man on the screen. “This is Jax. He owes me money and unfortunately, he’s been avoiding us and our men. There’s word he’s hiding out in your district. See if you can find him and bring him to me.”

They nod and excuse themselves. But before Jungkook steps out of the room, the old man calls out to him again. “I hear you’re having some trouble with your school. Did someone rat you out?”

“Oh.” Jungkook gulps. “No, nothing like that. Just word of mouth maybe. But don’t worry, I’ve been keeping a low profile.”

“Good. If anyone gives you trouble, just take them out.” He says casually, not even looking at Jungkook anymore. “And if you need any backup, let your captain know. Tell him you’ve got orders from me.”

“Right. I will.” Jungkook nods with a half-smile. “Thanks boss.”

Jungkook speed walks out the room, past the gambling table and finds Suga by the door, making small talk with the guards. They walk back down and Jungkook checks the time; a little after three in the morning. The club closes in a few hours, staying open just a little longer during the holidays. The crowd is already starting to wind down, though the music keeps blasting.

“What’s the matter? Bedtime already?” Suga chuckles, speaking over the music.

“I’m tired.” Jungkook says. “Aren’t you going home?”

“Home?” Suga scoffs. “Haven’t had that in a long time.”

Jungkook looks away, sharing the same thought. He just hadn’t realised how he’s started calling the frat house and you, as home. He fist bumps the older boy, then takes his leave, riding home in the early morning on his bike.

𝄖

“Are you awake?” You ask over the phone. It’s early, but the only time you’re able to have a decent conversation with Jungkook, in the privacy of your room and away from the prying ears of your grandmother.

“Now I am.” He hums, still sleepy. He stirred from his sleep as his ringtone goes off from your call, about to switch it off, until he sees your name across the display. “It’s okay, I wanted to hear your voice anyway.”

“I miss you.” You say.

“I miss you too.” He smiles, leaning against the wooden headboard. It presses against his back uncomfortably but it doesn’t bother him, not when he’s busy pressing the phone closer to his ear, listening to the sound of you giggling on the other end. “Feels weird when you’re not just a drive away.”

“Well, now you know how I feel when you disappear for days on end.”

“Hey,” he pouts, “I thought we’re way past that.”

“I know,” you laugh, “I’m just messing with you.”

Jungkook laughs along dryly. It brings him back to what happened at work and what Mr. Kim said. He wonders what you would say if he tells you he’s about to get a promotion. It’s weird; before you, he wouldn’t think twice about anything related to work. Probably would be ecstatic at the thought of moving up the ranks. But now, he wonders if that’s really what he wants.

As much as he hates to admit it, what Hoseok said before is probably true; you’re not going to want to deal with this forever. And you’re definitely not worth losing. You sense that something’s bothering him and after a long pause, you ask him, “Everything alright?”

“Everything is...normal.” He nods, even though you can’t see him. You only hum in response, hoping he’ll tell you when he’s ready. “I’ll tell you when you’re back.”

“Alright.” You say. “Hey, can we facetime?”

“Sure.”

You click on the option and wait for the screen display. When he finally comes on screen, you almost throw your phone across the room. How does he manage to look that good when he just woke up? Ridiculous. But he’s thinking the same about you, the way you’re glowing, like an actual angel. “God I miss your face.” He breathes.

“Life is so unfair.” You pout and he’s confused. “You wake up looking like that? Come on.”

“Are you kidding me?” He scoffs. “Have you seen the way you wake up from a nap with drool on your face? I can’t beat that.”

“Shut the fuck up.” You hiss, not wanting anyone to hear you. “That was one time! And I was really tired.”

You both start laughing and it slowly dies down to you just staring at each other. Jungkook runs a hand into his hair and leans his head against the wall, watching you like he’s trying to memorise everything. You heat up a little under his stare. How do the butterflies still not go away after so long? “Hey Jungkook, merry christmas.”

“Oh, right. Merry Christmas to you too.” Jungkook smiles fondly, trying to ignore the squeezing sensation in his chest. It’s sad, but he thinks this might be the first time someone’s wished him a merry christmas. He’s not usually around for the holidays, so it’s not anyone’s fault. And it’s not like they’re gonna start singing carols and having christmas dinners at the club. Then he clears his throat, interrupting his own thoughts. “So, you must be pretty busy there?”

“Kind of.” You shrug. “Just decorating the house, getting ready for the Christmas dinner tonight. My dad’s pretty stressed about that. He likes everything to be perfect.”

“I can tell.” He agrees and you tilt your head asking how. “Cause you’re perfect.”

You can’t help the smile that forces its way onto your face, looking down to avoid eye contact out of embarrassment. There’s nothing that Jungkook likes more than to watch you react so adorably to his words. He could watch you forever, but then you hear footsteps moving about outside and your expression changes. You haven’t told anyone about Jungkook yet, so you’d rather they not hear you. You lower your voice when you speak, “I think I have to go now.”

“Oh, alright.” Jungkook nods, though he looks obviously disappointed from such a short time with you. “Call me when you can.”

“I will. Bye Jungkook.”

You hang up quickly after he says goodbye. It leaves him feeling empty, suddenly aware of how quiet it is. There’s less of the usual ruckus around the house with most of the boys having gone home. He then wonders about how different it would be to spend Christmas with you, and your family. A sudden longing overcomes him.

To shake it off, he decides to get up, rolling off the bed and tossing his phone back on the mattress. He’s headed for the kitchen but before going down the steps, he realises the soft music coming from Jimin’s room. He walks over and finds Jimin on his bed, singing along to the songs. His knocks on the door, startling Jimin, who smiles wide when he sees Jungkook. It’s not always that the younger guy comes to him, it’s usually the other way around. “Hey stranger.”

“Hey.” Jungkook steps inside slowly, hands in the pockets of his shorts. “Merry christmas.”

Jimin doesn’t hide the surprise on his face. Is this what they call a Christmas miracle? “Merry Christmas to you too, buddy.” From the look on his face, Jimin thinks Jungkook might have more to say, so he pats the area on the bed next to him, but Jungkook shakes his head instead.

“Um, do you want to maybe have lunch later? Or dinner? Only if you want to.” Jungkook clears his throat, trying to ignore the awkward atmosphere.

Jimin grins up at him. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

Jungkook rolls his eyes and turns to leave. “Just let me know when you’re ready. I’ll drive.”

𝄖

It’s not a fancy dinner, and Jimin is fine with burgers and a shake. Jungkook had actually asked Jimin out for help on picking out a gift for you. He wanted a second opinion, since he’s never done this before and Jimin was kind enough not to give him too much shit for it. Of course, it’s not Jimin if he doesn’t drive Jungkook crazy. They spent an hour bickering because Jimin insisted on dropping by planned parenthood to get himself tested.

“Why do you need to do this today?!” Jungkook yells in the car.

“Because we’re already out, Jungkook!” Jimin yells back and Jungkook groans. “I need to get myself tested ASAP!”

“Why didn’t you tell me? Then I wouldn’t have asked you out!”

“Because then you wouldn’t have asked me out!” Jimin can’t help but to let out a chuckle. “And I needed a ride.”

“You are the most annoying person⎯”

“Oh!!! You can get yourself tested too! We can go in together!”

“That’s it, I’m crashing this car.”

For the sake of his own sanity, Jungkook went along with him. But it was only after Jungkook threatened to tell Taehyung that Jimin had a crush on him the first time they met, that Jimin finally shut up. Only to open his mouth ten minutes later to suggest Jungkook give his test results to you as a Christmas present.

“Oh yeah,” Jimin groans, mouth full, “this is definitely better than microwaved mac and cheese. Thanks for bringing me out of the house.”

Jungkook stays quiet, eating his own burger and downing sips of soda. It’s only after a while that he speaks. “I spoke to Y/N, about her and Hoseok.”

“And she said they’re just friends, didn’t she?” Jimin asks, nonchalant. Jungkook nods, not meeting his eyes. “Told you there’s nothing to be worried about.”

“I guess.” He shrugs. “Can I...ask you something?”

“Go ahead.”

Jungkook sets his burger down and takes a long sip of his drink. Jimin eyes him curiously as he does. Everything about today has been strange. Jungkook almost never spends time with anyone outside of school, and even when he does, it wouldn’t be him that makes the first move. “How do I know if whatever choice I’m making is the right one?” Jungkook continues when Jimin doesn’t respond, “Like if you have to choose between two things, how do I know if I’m choosing the right one? Assuming you can’t have both.”

“First of all, I can’t believe you’re coming to me for advice.” Jimin says cheerfully, then gets serious again. “But okay, that’s too vague Jungkook. It really depends on the context.”

Jungkook thinks hard. He doesn’t want to let Jimin know what this is really all about. “Okay so, if you’ve always liked dogs...but now you realise cats are cute too.”

“O-kay...and you can’t have both a cat and a dog?”

“Um,” he thinks, getting confused himself, “maybe the cat’s allergic to the dog?”

“So you want the cat?”

“Yes. But she- it’s allergic to dogs. And I have a dog.”

Jimin blinks. “Yeah, I can’t work with this. Do you want my help or not?”

“Okay okay,” Jungkook whines and Jimin almost snorts at his tone if not for how serious he looks, “what if all you’ve known is one thing but now you don’t think you want that anymore. You want to move in a different direction. How do I know if I’m going in the right direction?”

“You’ll just have to take the risk. Won’t know if you don’t go for it.”

“What if I regret it?”

Jimin stares at him for a while. “You might have regrets either way. That’s life. If you choose that one thing, you might regret not going for the other. If you choose the other, you might regret it because you miss how it was before.”

“So, there is no right choice?”

“That depends on you. Which option would your future self’s happiness outweigh the regret? That’s the choice you go for.”

“Happiness…” Jungkook mutters to himself. What makes him happy? He wonders. But all he sees is an image of you in his head. Jimin snaps his fingers to bring him back.

“Okay? Just do what makes you happy.”

Jungkook nods, silently reaching for his burger again. He continues eating as if nothing happened and so does Jimin. They sit in silence for a while, save for the sound of their chewing. Then Jungkook says ever so softly, “Thanks hyung.”

𝄖

“Are you sure he’s here?” Suga sighs, asking the kid walking ahead of him. He sends a disapproving look Jungkook’s way. “The last couple of places you’ve sent us were dead leads.”

“I think so. I...I⎯I think he’s here.” He stutters and Jungkook has to hold Suga back before the new recruit pisses himself under his death stare. It’s dark and dirty, an old apartment building with floors that feel like it might collapse at any moment with every step they take.

Christmas and the conversation with Jimin pushed to the back of his mind, Jungkook’s back at work, trudging through this place, looking for a wanted man. Next to him, Suga’s seething, “I swear if we don’t get this guy, you⎯” He stops when Jungkook grabs his sleeve, stopping them in their tracks.

“Will you shut up?” Jungkook growls. “You’re scaring him.”

Suga looks offended. “I’m scaring him? Gee, sorry mom, I won’t do it again. Why don’t you ground me while you’re at it!”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Jungkook hisses.

Suga sighs again, running a hand through his hair, messing it up. The other guy moves ahead when Jungkook nods for him to go on. He continues to search for the right apartment, one which he was told the guy Kim is looking for can be found at. “I’m really tired and this kid is getting on my nerves.” He says, gesturing towards the guy.

“Give him a break. He’s new, it’s not his fault he got assigned to this.” Jungkook whispers. “We’re supposed to train him, remember?”

“I don’t give a f⎯”

“Uh...guys…” The newbie calls out. They turn in his direction and walk towards him, standing in front of an apartment. Door ajar, and a mess on the inside. The window is open, probably from leaving in a rush. Another dead end.

“Fuck.” Suga grunts, storming off in the direction they came from.

Jungkook sighs and turns to the boy. “You can go. Call me when you have new information. But check your sources first.”

He looks at Jungkook sheepishly and mutters a soft apology as Jungkook walks away, catching up to Suga who’s already standing by the car in the back alley. “He sucks.”

“Yeah well, he’s new. And young. Give him a break.” Jungkook stares Suga down. The car door clicks as Jungkook unlocks it and they slide in.

"Hey, we started young too." Suga mumbles, then smiles as he thinks about the past. "Remember? You had such innocent eyes, fooled everyone into giving us intel for Kim. Gave us everything we need. And look at where we are now."

"Where is that?"

"What d'you mean?" Suga cocks a brow at Jungkook, frowns when he doesn't reply. "Did something happen?"

"No, nothing." Jungkook sighs, shaking his head. The car's engine revs up as he turns the key on the ignition. "Just really tired."

"Hang in there." Suga says softly, looking out the window. "If we do well managing the new club, we'll move up the ranks as captains. We won't have to do stupid runs like this anymore. I mean it's fun but it'll be even more fun getting soldiers to do the dirty work for you. Am I right?"

"What if I don't want all that?" Jungkook asks carefully and quietly, immediately regretting it after. They've known each other for a long time; they're practically brothers. Suga knows Jungkook like the back of his hand, or at least he thinks he did. Recently though, Jungkook's been hard to read and acting differently. Suga doesn't like that.

"What the hell are you saying?" His voice is low but Jungkook can sense the frustration in it. "You don't want to be captain? Dude, what is wrong with you, you're acting so weird. Seriously. The normal you would've beaten the crap out of that newbie for leading us to three dead ends! But no, you're all soft now. Talking about giving him a chance and shit…and now you don’t even want to be captain?"

“I⎯” Jungkook opens his mouth but can’t find the right words. He backtracks instead. “Nevermind. Just forget I said anything.”

Jungkook starts driving, heading back to Suga’s apartment to drop him off. After a long silence, Suga speaks again. “I don’t know what’s going on but I hope you don’t make any stupid decisions. Take some time to think things through. Then tell me if you’re in or out.”

Jungkook nodded even though he stopped paying attention halfway. Once he’s dropped Suga off, Jungkook takes a long drive through the night with the windows down. But the cool night breeze does little to clear his mind, so he decides to head to the gym instead.

While he managed to get through his usual workout routine, it didn’t help him forget about what happened earlier either. He didn’t even realise a guy at the reception was speaking to him until they called out his name a couple of times. They wished him a happy new year and Jungkook returned the greeting, collecting his belongings from them.

It’s three days into the new year so things are slowly going back to normal; students returning from their hometown. He was bummed when he got called into work on new years’ eve and had to miss out on a facetime session with you that night like he had planned. He hasn’t been home since and he sighs, feeling exhausted. Thinking about you, he takes out his personal phone and tries to switch it on, but the screen remains black. The battery’s dead. Perfect.

He heads back to the house, driving past other greek houses hosting parties. The house is dark when he walks through the front door, save for the light coming from the television in the living room. Reruns of bad movies are playing on the television and a few guys are on the couch with drinks in their hands. Jimin, amongst them, turns his head when he notices Jungkook, then smiles. He’s drunk. He raises a finger at Jungkook and opens his mouth, then his brows crease and mouth drops into a frown. “Have to tell you something...can’t remember…”

“Cool. Goodnight.” Jungkook heads for his room, leaving him confused.

Jungkook runs up the steps but stops just as he reaches the top. There’s light coming from under his door. Had he left his lamp on before leaving a few days ago? He doesn’t think so. He walks up to it slowly and presses his ear to the door. It’s quiet. Gently, he turns the doorknob and pushes the door open.

Are his eyes playing tricks on him? He looks around the room and sees luggage placed by the bed. They’re yours. And then there’s you, sleeping peacefully in his bed. He closes the door gently and walks over to you, kneeling by the side of the bed. It’s the first time he’s seen you in weeks. Without realising, he cups the side of your face with his palm. Your stir at his touch and he almost regrets it, if not for the cute way you pout and eyes flutter open.

“Jungkook?” You mumble, placing your hand on his.

“Hey baby.” He smiles, moving in to kiss your forehead. “What are you doing here?”

“I came back early.” You say softly. “Hana’s not home yet and I thought I’d come stay with you. I called you, but I couldn’t get through. So I came here.”

Jungkook curses himself for not charging his phone earlier. “And they just let you in?” He asks, keeping in mind the house rules in which non-members aren’t allowed in unless you’re with a member.

“I flirted with Jimin and he let me in.”

“Sounds about right.” He chuckles. While he’d love to slide into bed with you right now, he figures he should clean up first. So he removes his hand from you and gets up, but you grab onto his arm to stop him.

“Where are you going?”

You’re so tired that you drift in and out of sleep. He finds it so endearing. He places your hand back gently and pulls up the covers. “I’m gonna take a shower. I’ll join you in a bit.” You hum in response.

Jungkook’s shower is a quick one. The warm water from the shower doesn’t match up to having you snuggle up against him. He finishes quickly, dries his hair in the bathroom and practically runs back into the room, slipping under the covers with you, wrapping his arms around you. You roll over when you feel him pulling you close, resting your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in the sweet smell of his soap.

Your legs tangle into each other’s and your arm wraps loosely around his waist as his hand rubs your back in gentle movements. For the first time in three weeks, he feels relaxed, falling asleep almost immediately.

𝄖

One day, Jungkook’s waking up in the dark of Suga’s apartment, where the paint is peeling off and it’s vacant save for the couch he sleeps on. The next, he finds himself waking up to something dreamlike; his room in a nice orange glow from the morning sun streaming in, his legs tangled into yours, and you softly tracing your finger over his skin.

A smile forms on his face and he groans sleepily. Even though he’s tired, he chooses to wake up. You feel his hand slide down your back, down to your butt where he rubs circles. You look up and see him smiling, eyes still closed. You scoot up and give him a peck on the lips and get an approving hum from him. Once you’re free from his hold, you roll off the bed to wash up. He watches under sleepy eyes as you undress, stealing glances at him when you slip out of your nightwear.

“Missed you so much.”

You turn, smiling. “I missed you too.”

“Not you,” Jungkook replies, “her.”

You turn, looking around the room. He must be sleep-talking, you think. “What? Who?”

He grins, then throws the blanket off himself to sit on the edge of the bed, reaching out for you. He pulls you in and turns you around so your back faces him. His hands up both sides of your butt. “Her.”

You erupt into a fit of giggles, playfully hitting him with a pillow and he holds his hands up to defend himself. “You’re so stupid.” You laugh, ending up on top of him when he grabs you. “Missed you.”

You stare at each other for some time and he traces your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. You can’t help but to lean in for a kiss. It starts off as gentle pecks, until he places his hand on the back of your neck and slips his tongue into the kiss. You’ve both missed this. It seems silly when he thinks about it since it’s only been a few weeks. Makes him feel guilty too; all the time he’s gone off the grid and you’ve had to put up with it.

“Mmkay, I’m gonna wash up.” You pull away too quickly but he doesn’t stop you, and his eyes don’t leave you, or your butt, as you put his oversized shirt on and head for the bathroom with your clothes and toiletries.

It’s a short shower, since you figure the rest of the guys might wake up soon. Most of them are back by now, though probably not up yet. So when you hear a knock on the bathroom door, you think it may be Jungkook. Thankfully, you had enough sense not to open the door without getting dressed first.

“Hoseok. Hi.” You try not to sound awkward. By the look on his face, he wasn’t expecting you either. “Sorry if I was taking too long...shower..” You gesture vaguely and he nods.

He must have just gotten home, still dressed nicely but with bags under his eyes. You grab your bag of toiletries and towel before slipping out the door and heading straight for Jungkook’s room. But a hand on your elbow stops you before you can get to safety. You jump a little, surprised at the contact. “Sorry,” he says, “um, so how was your break?”

You look in the direction of Jungkook’s closed door just a few steps away, then back at Hoseok. “Good. It was nice.” You nod and he nods, shoving his hands in the pocket of his jeans. You turn to the door again. And back at Hoseok. It’s not that there’s anything wrong with talking to Hoseok. Afterall, you’ve made it clear to Jungkook that it’s just a normal friendship. But you don’t want him catching on to what really happened between Hoseok and you that evening.

“Can we talk? Maybe in my room, just in case he hears us.” Hoseok speaks softly and gestures to his room at the end of the hallway, in the opposite direction of Jungkook’s.

“Okay but make it quick.” You say, following behind.

You leave the door slightly ajar, so you can keep an eye on Jungkook’s door. “Look,” Hoseok starts, “I wanted to say sorry. I shouldn’t have told you about...everything.”

You cock a brow at him. “Why?”

“I know it got you all stressed out.” He sighs. “And I feel bad.”

“I’m fine now.” It’s not entirely true but it’s not a lie either. You’re still worried about the entire thing. “Don’t worry about me, alright? I’ll figure out how to help Jungkook.”

Hoseok looks at you in surprise. “You will? So you’re going through with my plan?”

“Not really. I’m figuring things out as I go.”

“Huh.” He blinks. “So you don’t have a plan.”

“I’m trying okay!” You hiss. “Give me some time. You can’t expect him to quit his job and turn into a missionary all in one day!”

He breaks into a tiny smile, “Your plan is to turn him into a missionary?”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” Your cheeks heat up when he holds back a laugh. Sounds from outside distract you and you look through the gap to see Jimin, entering Jungkook’s room. He makes a ruckus and you hear Jungkook telling him to get out. “Anyway, I’ll update you once I get any info. Anything from your friend?”

“No.” Hoseok shakes his head, brows furrowed and looking worried. “He’s been really quiet as of late. Bit weird.”

“Maybe he’s busy.” You shrug and Hoseok chews on his bottom lip. "Okay I should go."

"Right right, you should." Hoseok rubs the side of his neck as he manages a small smile. He's acting weird. You quickly slip out of his room and head straight for Jungkook’s. Only to bump straight into Jimin who’s exiting the room in a hurry.

“Y/N!” He breathes, hiding behind you. “Your boyfriend’s trying to kill me.”

“I’m sure he has a good reason for it.” You giggle, just as the door swings open and Jungkook sees you, then turns his attention to Jimin and lunges forward. Jimin screams but Jungkook’s only reaching for you to get you away from him.

“Stay away, demon.” Jungkook hisses.

“What is going on….” You mutter to yourself while you hang the towel behind the door.

They get into a scuffle as Jimin tries to enter the room again and Jungkook holds him back. It barely takes any effort on Jungkook’s part and all you hear is Jimin grunting. You sit on the bed, waiting for it to end.

“I just⎯ need,” Jimin huffs, then kicks Jungkook in the nuts. Jungkook bends over and falls on his knees, groaning. “I’m sorry! I need to talk to Y/N!” Jimin says, taking the chance to jump over Jungkook and step inside, bending over to catch his breath.

“Oh my god,” You gasp, hands to your mouth. “Jungkook are you okay?”

“Don’t worry about him, he’s immortal.” Jimin says, stopping you from going to Jungkook. He sits you down again and pulls out a piece of folded paper from his back pocket. “I need you to look at this.” He hands you the paper and stands in front of you with hands on his hips.

“Um? An STD test?” You ask. It’s his and you’re confused as to why he’s handing you this.

“Now that you’ve seen this and know that I’m clean, would you say it increases the chances of you going out and or, having sex with me?”

Jungkook gets up just then and goes straight for Jimin, tackling him to the ground. “How dare you.” He grunts, pinning Jimin’s arm behind his back. “She’s my girlfriend!”

“You’re hurting me!” Jimin cries. “Let me go, I’m not interested in Y/N!”

Jungkook releases his hold, reluctantly, when you tell him to. He stands with his arms folded, watching Jimin carefully. Jimin breathes hard, holding on to his right shoulder. He glares at Jungkook from the floor and punches his thigh, only to hurt his own hand doing so. He screams when Jungkook fakes a kick.

“What are you up to?” You ask Jimin, sighing.

“I’m not trying to sleep with you.” Jimin huffs. “I just wanted to know if it’s a yes or a no.”

“Well, I honestly don’t know. It depends.”

Jimin gasps. “On what? I don’t usually get rejected…”

“Usually?” You eye him curiously and he avoids your stare. “Ah...I see what’s happening.”

Jimin furrows his brows at you. You only smile back knowingly. It’s amusing to think about how he’s older than you but behaves so childlike sometimes.

“You asked a girl out and she rejected you.”

He remains stoic for a beat until he can’t take the silence. “Fine, yes! She mentioned something about me being a fuckboy. So rude.”

“She’s not wrong.” Jungkook mutters, going to sit next to you.

“So anyway, I took the test to show her that I’m safe.” Jimin says, pouting. “But she still won’t go out with me.”

“Maybe it’s not about that?” You shrug. “She probably just doesn’t like you. No offence.”

“That’s crazy, I’m so lovable.”

“You’re disgusting.” Jungkook comments.

“Look, just leave her alone.” You say. “If she likes you, you’ll know.”

“But I need to know why she doesn’t like me...” He whines and you chuckle.

“Why does it matter if she likes you or not?” You ask, eyeing him again. He fidgets under your stare. “Unless...you like her?”

“I don’t!” Jimin jumps to his feet. “I just don't understand why she would not want to hang out with me.”

You watch him with a knowing look. Jungkook furrows his brows and puts a hand up to him, “Wait. Did you take this test and force me to get it done with you, then show it to Y/N so you can get some advice, all for this girl? Wow.”

“Shut up! I hate you guys!” Jimin yells, storming off.

Jungkook smiles, “Yeah he’s definitely into her. I know from experience.” He leans in to capture your lips in a kiss, one which you smile into. Your hands move down his bare front, teasingly tracing his abs. “Any plans today?” He asks breathily when he pulls away.

“Hm...I have a lot to unpack. Let’s go back to my place.” You smile, noting the way he pouts. “You can help me.”

“I have a better idea.” He smirks, hand around your waist as he moves back and pulls you on top of him. “We can stay in bed.”

“Sure I guess.” You shrug. “But you know Hana’s not around right? So we have the entire place to ourselves, to do whatever we want.” You whisper the last part against his lips and he knows you’re just trying to lure him in, but he’s so weak when you use that voice on him.

“I’ll go get ready.”

𝄖

“Why are we here again?”

You turn and stare quizzically at your boyfriend, whose sulky face leaves you in giggles. There’s nothing more fun than watching a grumpy guy pushing a cart through the supermarket. “To get groceries, duh.”

“Why?” He frowns.

“What do you mean why? Cause we need food. You know, to survive.” You tilt your head. “Have you never gone grocery shopping?”

“No.” He shakes his head.

“What? Then who gets the groceries at the house?”

“I don’t know.” He blinks. “Probably everyone else.”

“God, you are such a horrible housemate.” You mutter and he doesn’t react, suddenly wondering, who does get the groceries?

You hear him grumble once he realises you’ve walked ahead, followed by the sound of the wheels of the cart against the floor, speeding up to catch up with you. You don’t actually need the cart, you just wanted to make him push one. It’s amusing, especially since he looks so cute doing it.

You breeze through the supermarket, already knowing what to get since Hana and you follow a strict list of things to get. Only the necessities, to save cost. It’s only when you reach the jam and spreads aisle that you get stuck. “Hm...chunky or creamy?” You think to yourself.

Jungkook waits patiently as you decide. He’s standing next to you with the cart in between. He stares as you tilt your head and pout a litte, then smiles at how adorable you look even when you’re just standing there. He pulls out his phone and snaps a shot of you. Just as he shoves the phone back in his pocket, you turn to him. “Chunky? Or Creamy?”

“Why not both?” He shrugs.

“Because we have a budget.” You shrug.

He sighs, then leaves his position from behind the cart to stand next to you. He looks at your two options. "Chunky."

"Hm," you pause, "I think I'll get creamy."

Jungkook stares at you, puzzled as you reach for the jar and move around him to place it in the cart. You smile up at him innocently and get on your toes to give him a kiss. Maybe he'll forgive you this time. When you see a tiny smile forming, you skip away down the aisle and turn into the next one.

It suddenly hits Jungkook. Would this be how it's like to have a normal life with you? Whatever normal is. He's still in the same spot thinking about how domestic this all seems, when he sees you return with a stack of tissue boxes, a grin on your face when you see him.

"You alright?" You ask when he doesn't move or say anything.

He manages a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. I was just thinking."

"About what?"

"You." He says almost immediately.

A shy smile makes its way onto your face and you bury your face into his chest. He chuckles and kisses the top of your head. When you pull away, you stare at him for a while, giving him a once-over.

"I love your outfit today."

"You chose my outfit today…" He rolls his eyes but there's still a smile on his face.

You decided on a white sweater with blue jeans for him. He looks less intimidating and absolutely adorable when he's not decked in all black or his favourite leather jacket. It's not like you went out of your way, he already had these items sitting in his closet.

"Come on," he says, pushing the cart and holding your hand at the same time, "let's finish up and go home."

"Okay. Actually I think we're done."

"No, we need one more thing." You look at the items in the cart and tally them against your list. Everything's there. Still, you follow behind as Jungkook speeds up and finally stops in front of⎯ "We need lube." He says way too loudly.

You shush and cover his mouth, looking around. "What are you so loud for?" You whisper.

He chuckles and kisses the palm of your hand. Then he reaches for a bottle of lube, reading its description. "Look, this one has a warming effect."

A man walks past just then and you hide your face in embarrassment. Jungkook tries to hide his smile but fails. He's obviously enjoying this. He grabs your waist and presses you against his side. "Should we get this?" He asks, winking.

You snatch the bottle from his hand and return it to its place on the shelf, grabbing another instead. "I think," you bring your face closer to his and lick your lips, "I'd enjoy the cooling lube more. Should we try this?" You ask in a sultry voice. And he knows you're only doing this to get back at him but that voice is really getting him going. He gulps, then takes the bottle from you and places it in the cart.

You walk ahead when he doesn't say anything else, thinking you've won.

"Babe! They have flavoured lube!" He yells.

𝄖

"Why are your clothes so big?" He asks, unfolding a black sweater that looks oddly familiar and holds it up in front of him. When he lowers it, you're staring at him with an amused look on your face.

"That's yours, Kookie." You say. "I borrowed it."

"Oh." He scratches his head and tosses it into the pile of laundry before him, focusing on unpacking the other clothes. "Kookie?"

You smile, separating the colours from the whites. "I like it. It's cute."

"Just don't call me that in front of the guys, okay?" He stops unfolding. "Especially Suga."

"No promises." You shrug. "Speaking of Suga, how is he?"

Jungkook pauses for a while, then says, "He's good. Why?"

"Just wondering." You still remember the way Jungkook held you that night you met Suga. As if he was afraid of you getting any closer to him. Even during the cab ride home, he intertwines your arms and interlaced your fingers as if you would slip away if he wasn’t holding on to you.

"I have to tell you something about Suga." He says seriously. You watch him carefully and gesture for him to go on. "It concerns you. But you have to promise you won't get mad."

"You're making me nervous. What is it?"

"You know that video you sent me?" He starts, eyes suddenly glazed over. "The one where you're in bed, looking like a whole meal, and you start touching yourself⎯"

"Jungkook, focus"

"Sorry. You're so hot. Anyway," he smiles sheepishly, "Suga may have caught me watching that video…and he may have seen everything."

"What?!" You shriek.

"You promised you wouldn't be mad!"

"I did not!" You throw yourself at him, shoving him to the floor and placing your hands around his neck in a choke. If anything, he’s enjoying it. "You're dead to me."

He grins, hands sliding up your thighs wrapped around his middle. "I didn't know you were into this."

"Ugh!" You throw your hands up in the air. "That video was for your eyes only!"

"I know!" Jungkook sighs. "But I didn't know Suga was behind me. I'm sorry baby. I didn't do it on purpose."

You whine and let yourself drop onto him. "Were you at work? Why were you watching it at work?"

"Because. I was at work when I saw those photos you sent me. And I missed you."

His voice is soft and gentle. Your heart swells a little knowing he thought about you while you were away. Even at work. You lift your head up to kiss him, sighing into the kiss. "Don't do it again." You say, pointing a finger at him and he nods. You draw circles on his chest for a while, "What did Suga think about the video?"

Jungkook looks at you, amused. "He thinks you're hot." A tiny satisfied smile forms on your lips and he chuckles. "And he's right. I've missed being with you."

His hands roam your body, from your thighs to your chest. "Me too." You bite his bottom lip, sucking on it then press your mouth to his in a wet kiss. He moans into it, hands already digging into the flesh of your skin. Until you push yourself off him. "But as punishment, we’re not having sex tonight."

"What, no!" He whines, shooting up from his position. You almost fall over if not for him supporting your back. "Baby…don’t do this."

You giggle when he pouts, pinching both sides of his cheeks. He tucks a curl behind your ear and you flinch slightly when it tickles your neck. The silence that follows as you stare into each other’s eyes causes the beating of your heart to intensify. And you can feel, from your bodies pressed together, that his is the same. He’s smiling sweetly up at you, a look you wish to engrave into your mind forever. When you think about the past, you’d never imagine you’d find yourself sharing moments like this with Jungkook. He always seemed so distant and cold. Yes he was playful and still is, but you never thought you’d be able to have a relationship with him like one you have now.

The kiss that follows is slow and gentle. His lips move so carefully against yours, as if they’re savouring every touch. There’s longing in his movements and his touch, hands holding you gently over your clothes, but you can tell he’s holding himself back.

"I almost forgot, I have something for you." He says.

“You got me a gift?” You ask, eyes lighting up and he nods.

You move to sit on the bed as he leaves the room momentarily, fetching it from his bag outside. You're excited, legs shaking as you sit at the foot of the bed, until he's walking back into the room, hands behind his back. You let out a tiny squeal when he joins you. "What is it?"

You can barely contain it any longer, chewing on your bottom lip and eyes trained on his hands. He chuckles when you stare at him and raise your eyebrows, gesturing him to reveal it.

"I wanted to get you something nice." He says. Your eyes go wide when you see a box in his hands. There's no mistaking what it is, a jewellery box. "I don't know if this is your style but I hope you like it…"

You're silent when he opens the box, revealing a lovely rose gold necklace with a sparkling red heart-shaped pendant. You're more surprised than anything. You hadn't expected him to get you such a fancy gift. Maybe it isn't a big deal to him, but it is to you. He watches you, waiting for a reaction and worries when you don't give him one.

"Do you not like it? I can return it⎯"

"Jungkook," you say softly and gently run a finger over the necklace, "you got this for me? This is beautiful."

"Really?" Jungkook says, relieved. "I couldn't decide on a design, so I made Jimin come along to help me."

He removes the necklace from its box and unhooks the clasp. You turn, lifting your hair for him to put it around you. It settles nicely around your neck and you run to the mirror to have a look. It's so pretty. And probably expensive. "This must've been expensive." You look at him from the mirror.

"Don't worry about it." He reaches for your hand when you walk back towards him. "I got a bonus at work. I was actually going to get you matching earrings. But Jimin said you would think it's too much, so I didn't. If you do want it though⎯"

You shut him up with a kiss. "This is more than enough, Jungkook. I love it. Thank you."

"I'm glad." He grins wide, his tiny dimple showing.

"I actually have something for you too." You say, walking over to your luggage. You unzip a compartment and with your back to him, pull out his gift and slip it under your shirt. He watches you curiously when you walk back.

"Great hiding place." He chuckles.

"Shut up. Listen." You sigh. "I should've gone first. My present looks really lame now compared to yours."

"I love it already. What is it?" He grabs at your hands under the shirt and you resist, laughing.

"Okay, okay!" You hesitate for a moment, then remove the present from underneath your shirt, holding it out in front of you. "Ta-da! I made you a sweater."

"You made me this sweater?" He takes it from you, running his hand over the soft material. It's a blue knitted sweater that you spent hours on back home.

"Yeah. I knitted it when I was home." You bite your lip as he looks at it in silence. "Do you like it? I'm sorry it's so lame. It's such a grandma present. As in literally my grandmother helped me with it. Maybe I should've gotten you a watch or something. It's not too late, I could run some errands and get you⎯"

"Y/N," he says, voice low and gentle, "this is the best thing anyone has ever given me." You would think he's exaggerating except for the lack of mischief in his eyes. Only sincerity. And if you're not seeing things, maybe there's a gloss in his eyes that wasn't there before. "No one's ever made me anything before." He says softly, looking at the sweater again.

It drops to his lap when he swoops in to cup your face and kiss you. Starts off gently, but he picks up the pace. You return the kiss, trying to keep up with him. He gets up from his position to lift you up, moving further up the bed.

He wastes no time in removing the bottom half of your clothes, throwing your pants and panties on the floor, then spreading your legs so he can take a good look. "I know you said no sex tonight. So it's okay if I don't get my orgasm but I'm about to make sure you get yours." He kisses your inner thighs, then moves dangerously close to your cunt. Before doing anything else, he moves back up to kiss you on the lips. "Do you want me to stop?"

You shake your head and he smirks down at you before going back to his position, making himself comfortable on the bed. He shifts your thighs over his shoulder and you tremble with anticipation. "Ready for part two of your present, baby?"

𝄖

Jungkook breathes out a sigh looking at the notifications on his phone. Missed calls and messages, mostly from Suga. He dials Suga's number and braces for the yelling he's about to receive.

"Where the fuck are you?" Suga seethes on the other end as soon as the line clicks. Jungkook winces. His calls and messages had come in while he was in bed with you earlier and no way was he about to answer the calls while he was making you scream his name in bed. “Why didn’t you pick up my calls?”

“Relax.” Jungkook says calmly. “I was busy. What’s up?”

“Busy?” Suga scoffs. An uncomfortable silence follows before Suga speaks again. “Don’t tell me, you’re with that girl again, aren’t you?”

The lack of response on Jungkook’s part confirms it and Suga groans. He can’t understand it; the vast difference he sees in Jungkook in the last couple of months blows his mind. He’s known Jungkook since they were kids. But now, Suga feels like he doesn’t even know him, not since you came into the picture.

“Does it matter?” Jungkook sighs. He knows it does. “What happened?”

“We got a lead and needed backup.” Suga says.

“Did you get him?”

“What do you think?” Suga yells over the phone. “He got away, you fucking idiot.”

“I said I was busy, didn’t I?” Jungkook fumes, keeping his voice down so he doesn’t wake you.

“Dude, what is up with you?” Suga’s voice is calm now. It’s even more worrying when he’s not yelling. “Last night, you were talking about not wanting to be captain. Is this what it’s all about? Y/N? What exactly are you trying to do here? Get married to that bitch, have kids and live a normal life? Do you seriously think that’s gonna happen?”

“Don’t. Call her. A bitch.” Jungkook clenches his teeth, trying not to let his anger get the best of him. But he knows whatever Suga’s implying is true. Being part of the organisation they’re in makes things complicated.

“You think you can just waltz out of this establishment without any harm coming your way? You know too much already. And you don’t think that if the guys find out about your girl, they’re gonna come after her? It’s just not realistic Jungkook.”

He steps to the door of your room, watch as you sleep soundly, blankets covering your form.

“Look I seriously don’t give a fuck about you having a girlfriend.” Yoongi clicks his tongue. “But I’ve seen her. She’s not about this life, is she? If you think she can handle it, then hey by all means you can do whatever you want. But you can’t even pick up my calls when I need you, you’re missing work...this isn’t going to work out. You need to make a choice. Are you in, or out?”

Jungkook steps away from the door and over to the small window in the living room, overlooking the street below. He thinks, silence on both ends of the call.

You stir from your sleep just then, feeling warm. The heater must be up too high. You roll over to switch it off, then realise the empty spot where Jungkook's supposed to be. There's no light from under the toilet door, so you look for him outside. And you find him, standing by the window, a hand on the window pane with his forehead against it, and the other holding a phone to his ear.

“I’ll do it.” You hear him say. You were about to go up to him, but curiosity gets the better of you and you wait for him to finish. “You can trust me.”

It’s all he says before he exchanges greetings with the other person on the line and hangs up the phone. He sighs, dropping his arm to the side, forehead still leaning on the window pane. You go up to him before he turns and finds you standing there. He jolts in surprise when you walk up to him and wrap your warm arms around his waist. His skin feels cool, probably from standing at the window, which means he must have been there for a while.

“What are you doing?” You mumble with your cheek pressing against his back.

“Baby, why are you up?” He asks softly, turning around to hold you. “I had to take a call. Didn’t want to disturb you.”

“Oh.” You say, looking up at him sleepily. “Do you have to go? Don’t go.”

“I’m not going anywhere baby.” He slides the window down and lifts you up, wrapping your legs around him. He carries you back into bed and crawls in right beside you. “I’m gonna stay right here. With you.”

"Good." You hum, settling nicely in his arms.

"I love you." He whispers into the night and it's the last thing you hear before you're drifting away into a deep sleep where you dream of him.

#jungkook fics #networkbangtan #kwritersworldnet #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts scenarios #bts fic #jungkook scenarios #rainworks #myfic #sorry if this is boring lol #love u

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