#this is me dipping my toes into preschool au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

winterscaptain · 3 years

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take the day.

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: a treat for the grown-ups in the room! this was inspired by an ask from many moons ago, and a couple of ideas submitted in the form. i hope you all enjoy, and as always, tell me what you think (and practice safe sex)! this fic contains explicit content and is 18+. minors do not interact or prepare to be blocked! also some tags aren’t working - please double check your urls below!

words: 2.8k warnings: smut (p in v penetration, [consentual & monogamous] unprotected sex, creampie, counter sex, floor sex, oral [reader receiving], very light soft dom!aaron),language, food mention

summary: “if you can’t laugh with your partner during sex, break up.” - my sister-in-law. au!november 2021.

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | taglist | what do you want to see next?

“Take the day. Nothing’s going on here and we don’t have any cases for once.”

You tuck the phone under your chin as you pack the last of the kids’ lunches. “Really?”

Emily’s smile is audible through the phone. “Really. It’s Friday, and isn’t Hotch out today?”

“Yeah, but mostly just to avoid the meetings with -”

Just then, Jack rockets down the stairs, throws his backpack over his shoulder, and grabs his lunch off the counter. With a kiss to your cheek, he jets out the door with a quick, “Bye, Mom!”

You blink rapidly, kind of taken aback by the abrupt nature of his departure. He can drive himself to school now, but he doesn’t always take advantage of it.

“Sorry, Em. Jack just left for school like a damn tornado and I gotta get Isaac out of bed.”

She laughs. “No worries. Swing by my office when you drop the girls at preschool. I’ve got a couple of things for Aaron.”

+++

When you return, the house is eerily quiet.

You toe off your shoes and round the corner to the office with an armful of files in your hand.

Unceremoniously, you drop them on his desk. “These are from Emily.”

He huffs a laugh through his nose without looking up. “Thanks.”

With a sly little smile, you leave him to his work.

Padding across the hall to the master bedroom, you light the fireplace and replace your winter clothes with one of his dress shirts, two buttons holding it closed over the middle of your abdomen, and a pair of fuzzy socks.

You’re grateful for the central heating in the house. You’d never be able to pull this off without it.

After you sneak into the kitchen for a glass of water (you know - the ruse of usefulness), you return to him and place the water next to his left hand. He hardly looks up but mutters his thanks under his breath.

You take your time leaving the office, just reaching the door when you hear, “Wait, hey. Whoa. Back up.”

You don’t follow instructions, walking out of his office and into the kitchen, making play at putting lunch together.

A pair of familiar hands slide up your thighs and underneath the shirt.

“Is this mine?”

You hum in the affirmative. “Thought you’d like it. It looks good on you so I figured it would look alright on me.”

“Uh huh. Yeah, well, if those were the rules I’d have to hand over my entire wardrobe.” Aaron spins you and presses you back into the island, your back arching as he crowds closer to you, his mouth hovering over your neck. “You look better in my clothes than I do.”

You hum again, but your brain is too fuzzy to come up with a retort. He laves kisses over your neck, dropping to your collarbone and brushing his shirt off your shoulder. You decide in that moment to let go, relaxing back into the counter and giving him implicit permission to have his way with you.

“Yeah?” He asks, feeling you sink back.

You nod, bringing your hand to his hair and pulling him to your lips. “Yeah.”

With a dark laugh, he turns you around again and snags your hands, pressing them to the cold granite countertop. You’re stretched taut, your legs already shaking with anticipation.

His hands slide up your arms and over your back, the starched fabric of his dress shirt a delicious texture over your skin. He reaches your hips, his hands wandering under the hem of his shirt and hooking his fingers in the fabric of your underwear, practically tearing them over your ass and down your legs. You step out of them and he nudges them out of the way.

He kicks your feet apart at the ankles, spreading your legs and forcing your back into a gentle arch.

A perk of law enforcement training - some moves translate well in the bedroom.

Or the kitchen.

You hear him unbutton his jeans and free himself, not even pretending the last half-hour hasn’t been its own kind of foreplay. An empty house is practically an open invitation at this point.

He runs the head of his cock through your folds, pressing against your clit with every pass. You drop your forehead to the countertop with a whine, letting the cool temperature soothe your heated skin.

Aaron doesn’t quit rutting against your wetness, only just teasing your entrance before sliding up to your clit again. From experience, you know he could theoretically do this for hours, waiting for you to get desperate, squirmy, and whiney.

It’s working. You wiggle back against him, but his hands cover yours with a smack as he shushes you, his hips pressing yours flush against the edge of the counter. You’re sure the granite against you would hurt if it wasn’t so hot.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asks, low and soft in your ear.

You swallow as his lips wander over your neck and shoulder. “I want you.”

He hums in understanding, sucking bruises along the line of your shoulder blade. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” Your answer is breathless, and you shove your fingers between his from underneath, holding on as best you can.

“Do you know how good you look in my shirt and nothing else?”

You nod.

“Do you know what it does to me when you look like that? My wife in my clothes?”

You don’t answer, knowing it’ll only pay off for you. He lets go of your hands and grips your hips, yanking you back toward him. It’s only an inch or so, but you can feel his cock pressed against you, the cold metal buttons against your ass, the coarse feeling of his jeans against the skin of your thighs.

“Do you want me to show you what it does to me? What you do to me?”

You swallow and nod, pressing your chest into the counter, bracing yourself. “Yes.”

He lines himself up with your entrance, plenty slick with your arousal - you’re practically dripping, soaking your thighs and the apex of your legs.

Aaron slams into your heat, all the way to your cervix, with a searing kiss pressed to the middle of your back to smother his groan. You cry out from deep in your chest, drawing it out as he pulls back, dragging against your walls before filling you again, his hips audibly making contact with your ass.

It’s rare you get a chance like this. Even at night, with the kids’ rooms upstairs, you have to be relatively quiet. Aaron, when he really lets go, can get loud, and so can you, with his encouragement. So, needless to say, your opportunities are few and far between.

A steady stream of curses leave him through gritted teeth, watching his own hands pull you onto and push you off of his cock, bottoming out every time.

You’re not even sure what noises you’re making, but there are a lot of them. You unstick your palms from the granite, reaching around to press your fingertips into the part of Aaron’s hip you can find.

He leaves you then, falling out of your reach as he pulls out and turns you around again.

Suddenly, you’re over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry.

How does he do that?

The smell of his body wash from his morning shower lingers in the air as he brings you into the bedroom, dropping to his knees on the soft rug in front of the lit fireplace.

He supports your shoulders as he tips you backwards, sealing your lips in a searing kiss. Your hands are in his hair, more for the feeling of it than for support.

The plush rug is warm from the fire, a stark contrast to the cool kitchen island. His weight on top of you seems to sink right into your bones, a feeling of safety and love soaking into your skin.

Much to your chagrin, he’s still fully clothed, his pants loose around his hips and his shirt hiked up to his ribs. You find the hem and separate yourself from his mouth only long enough to yank it over his head and throw it toward the bed.

He laughs into his next kisses, but it turns into a sigh as your hands run over his sides, pressing firmly into his waist, before dragging up his back and back into his hair.

“Are you gonna let me go?” He asks against your mouth.

You shake your head. “Don’t wanna.”

He laughs, tipping your head back and peppering kisses to your jaw and neck. “Fine.”

His kisses meander down, nosing a path past the collar and buttons of his shirt on his way to your chest. He pauses at your breasts, drawing patterns with his tongue until you’re taut and puckered under his touch.

His hands follow his mouth, unbuttoning the two buttons you’d done up to play at modesty, soothing circles into your skin with his thumbs. He reaches your hips and scoops your legs onto his shoulders, kissing a path down the creases of your thighs.

When he finally wraps his lips around your clit, your hips buck into him. He laughs, sending a buzz up your spine, and locks your hips in his hands, holding you securely to his mouth.

You resist the urge to bring your hand to your face, letting your whimpers and groans leave you at full volume. One hand finds a home in his hair while the other claws at the carpet. He could probably eat you out in his sleep at this point, what with the way he knows the pace, the pattern, the pressure you like. He’s consistent but never boring, always managing to lull you into a dull hum of pleasure, your legs shaking under his hands, before pulling something that makes you jump and whine.

His warm breath fans across your lower belly, keeping him centered as he flicks his tongue against your clit, dipping lower to your entrance, sliding back. He sucks your inner lips into his mouth, letting them go with obscene, wet pop before pulling your clit back into his mouth, feasting on you like a man starved.

You clench around nothing, desperate for him to fill you with anything, anything to ease the want that courses through you. There might be a moment when you ask for something, but you’re not entirely sure.

He chuckles, a dark and smug sound, but only continues until your center starts to throb, shocking your body with pleasure all the way to your fingertips. Aaron can feel it too, running his hand up your abdomen, reminding you to relax.

You take the note, slowing your breath and relaxing into the floor. Your grip in Aaron’s hair doesn’t budge, tight and close to the root.

He’s determined to get you off with his mouth alone, his fingers digging deeper into your hips to keep himself on track.

The pulse of your walls continues until the tension crawls into the rest of your body. Your shoulders pull away from the rug as your body curls forward, your hips stuttering even under Aaron’s firm grip. Both of your hands wind into his hair and you fall over the edge, chanting his name.

Your upper body twists, your cheek against the plush carpet as you convulse under his continuing ministrations. Your hips are still locked to the floor under his hands, braced by his shoulders and held by his mouth. You can feel his smile as he rides it out with you, backing off on the pressure as pleasure rolls through you in violent, overwhelming waves.

Your jaw seems to be stuck open, your eyes wide as you stare into nothing. Aaron slows, the strokes of his tongue long and drawn-out against the length of your sex, before stopping entirely, pressing a kiss right above your clit.

He crawls up your body, keeping some of his weight on you as he finds your lips again. You’re still boneless, catching your breath, shaking, and experiencing little shockwaves that irregularly catch your abs.

With that in mind, you can hardly kiss him back - instead, passively letting him smother you in affection, vaguely processing the fact you can taste yourself on his tongue. You wrap your ankles around his lower back, and he finally sheds his jeans and boxer briefs.

“You good?” He asks.

You nod. “Mhmm.” You reach between your bodies and stroke him a couple of times. “Gimme.”

He laughs out loud then, kissing you soundly as he slides home.

You whimper into his mouth, your overheated flesh alive with sensation as he rocks into you, nearly frictionless. He holds you tight, his hand splayed across your shoulders underneath the shirt you’re still (somehow) wearing.

You let your mind wander a little, combing through Aaron’s hair with your fingers and tucking your face into his neck.

It’s been ten years with him, almost exactly. You’re a far cry from the person you were then, and you think maybe Aaron is a different man, too.

Not where it counts though. He’ll always be that chronically-stressed, endlessly-dedicated tightass who thinks too much and speaks too little. If anyone asked, he’s still the smartest, warmest man you know. Privately, you know he’s also the dumbest invulnerable moron who ever drew breath.

That makes you laugh, and you wrap your arms further around him. He doesn’t stop, but cranes his neck to look at you.

“What?”

You shake your head, bringing your hands to the sides of his face, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Just thinking about you.”

He laughs a little breathlessly, his head tilting sardonically to the side as he snaps his hips to yours, making you jump and clench around him. “I’d hope so.”

Flipping onto his back, he pulls you on top of him and has the audacity to wink at you.

The pair of you giggle and laugh your way to your destination. His laughing smothers his curses as he cums, fucking up into you and holding you flush to him by the hips. You follow him by scant seconds, bracing yourself on his chest as you drag out your orgasm, enjoying the rush and the laughter and just being together.

When you both completely run out of steam, you lift yourself off of him and tip sideways, landing flat on your back out on the rug.

This poor thing has seen more use today than in its entire lifetime.

You roll over after a second, propping your head on your elbow. Aaron mirrors you, meeting your eyes.

“That was fun,” he says.

You nod, bringing your hand to the graying hair at his temple. “Don’t get too many chances for this kind of fun anymore, huh?”

He sighs and pulls your hand from his hair, kissing your palm and folding your hand in his. “No, we don’t, but it’s…” He thinks for a moment. “It’s nice to appreciate it more than we used to.”

“Yeah.”

+++

You twist back and forth on the barstool, watching Aaron slice an apple and some strawberries. You both did away with the lunch idea, deciding it was too much work to put something together.

It feels awfully like your first weekend together, the only differences are in the scenery. Even the wardrobe is similar. You’re in the shirt he started in, not much else, and he’s in his jeans, shirtless and barefoot.

It’s nice to see him wandering around with a kind of carelessness. You’re not sure any of the little ones have seen him without a shirt, not for any real length of time that they would remember. He told you once that he doesn’t want to scare them.

You reminded him that this is their normal, too. They’ve never known him without the scars so they’ll always know him with them. The little ones don’t know to be scared.

Still, he’s careful.

It’s a work in progress.

“What were you thinking about before?” He asks, rounding the island. He goes to lean on it, but hesitates. “We have to wipe down the counter.”

You snort and take the plate from him, headed for the living room. “It’s been ten years and you’ve never changed.”

He rolls his eyes and follows you, sitting down in his chair so you can sit in his lap, the plate of fruit on the coffee table. “Is predictable so bad?”

“No,” you reply, your eyebrows raised. “I was just answering your question.”

He huffs a laugh down his nose. “You haven’t changed, either, for the record.”

“Is that a good thing?”

With a smile, he pulls you gently by the side of the head, tucking you under his chin. “It’s a very good thing.” Then, almost inaudibly -

“A great thing.”

+++

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#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #tali talks cm #tali writes fanfiction #a joyful future #a joyful future fanfic

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satendou · 4 years

Text

⟼ camtime

⍣ 365 days of sun series | previous | next

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ pairing: iwaizumi/reader/oikawa

⇢ au: 365!au, poly!au, college!au, pro!oikawa

⇢ summary: iwaizumi is feeling a bit needy, but oikawa really wants to facetime. the solution?

⇥ masterlist

⇥ requests are open! | rules

⇢ warnings: smut, established relationship, polyamory, camera sex, mild daddy kink, oral, unprotected sex, for the love of god properly clean up after sex

⇢ word count: 3.8k

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ a/n: i had a thought while i was half asleep. and once again thank you to the loml @keijiskitten for torturing herself to beta this for me

Iwaizumi frowned as you sighed for the hundredth time that hour, staring down into the pan of vegetables that you were currently frying. It was pretty clear what was wrong; Oikawa had been gone for three days and the most either of you had gotten was texts saying “I love you” and “Goodnight.”

You jumped as his arms slid around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“I miss him too,” he murmured, breath tickling your ear.

Your shoulders shook under his chin as you laughed. Oikawa would never see it and Iwaizumi would deny it if you ever mentioned it, but Iwaizumi got extremely *mopey when Oikawa was gone. And he’d never hear the sweet things Iwa had to say about him, like how much he missed him when he was at away games.

Not that you didn’t tell Oikawa about it; the small smile he’d get when he heard was enough. The not-so-subtle teasing he aimed at Iwaizumi was not worth the amount of flack you got from Iwa afterwards, and you couldn’t stop yourself from spilling it all out to Oikawa. And the affection between the two for days afterwards was enough to make you smile.

“I know. He always does this when he leaves, doesn’t he?” you asked, setting your spatula down and turning in his arms. You wound your arms around his neck and pecked his nose followed by his lips. “But I’m glad you’re here, Haji. I couldn’t deal with the both of you being gone.”

His large hands rubbed up and down your back, holding you close to his chest as he kissed you again. The loud popping of oil at your back brought you back, and you turned around to tend to it again, shivering as Iwaizumi’s lips trailed up your neck and back down again. “I know. You’re so needy.”

Whacking his hand lightly with the spoon in your hand, you laughed. “It’s your own fault. You spoil me too much, and I love it.”

Iwaizumi’s lips moved against your neck as he muttered, “Yeah I bet you do.” He followed that up with a much quieter, “And I love you.”

You almost rolled your eyes, but he said it so sincerely that you couldn’t help the warmth that spread up your neck. It was amusing that he was smooth without even meaning to be, and adorable that he was so reserved in delivering. “Ugh, you’re so cute, Haji.”

He huffed and you could just imagine the eyeroll that nearly took his eyes to the back of his skull. A quick peek gave you an eyeful of his cheeks turned slightly pink. “Shut up.”

His arms disappeared from around you so that he could finish preparing the rice for dinner. You continued to chat about your day until you announced the vegetables were done, and then arms wound around his middle. He could feel you rubbing your face against his shirt between his shoulder blades and he rolled his eyes.

“What are you doing?”

“Annoying you,” you answered, pausing. “Is it working?”

“I’ve been friends with Oikawa since preschool, and more for years now. You’re gonna have to work a lot harder to annoy me,” he responded, patting your hand as he sighed. As much as he loved Oikawa, that man was infuriating. Loud, boisterous, flirtatious, teasing, and gorgeous. He shifted uncomfortably as the image of Oikawa shirtless flashed through his mind and rolled his eyes. Typical, he couldn’t escape even when he wasn’t around.

“Don’t tempt me,” you said, shoving into him before moving away to plate dinner.

He froze, the image switching from slightly dirty to both you and Oikawa at the same level. Deadpan, he said, “If you ever become like Oikawa I’m breaking up with both of you.”

Later that night, just a little while before the two of you would usually go to bed, Oikawa texted you.

‘Facetime, 30 min? <3’

“Doesn’t he know what emojis are?” you asked, peering at Iwaizumi’s screen over his shoulder.

“He thinks that it’s ‘quirky’ to use these instead. We’ll have to use your phone,” he said as he typed his reply back, “so make sure it’s charged. Please,” he tacked on as an afterthought.

Laughing at the way he narrowed his eyes when he realized what he had done, you read Oikawa’s response.

‘KK :)’

“He really is a dork, isn’t he?” you sighed, checking your phone and wincing. 32%.

Iwa watched the sway of your hips as you headed down the hall to plug your phone in, the shape of your ass in the yoga pants you wore keeping every ounce of his attention. And when you walked back, the bounce of your tits in the tight shirt you were wearing drew his eyes again, and he wondered how long Oikawa would want to talk. It had been a few days since you had fooled around, and it was annoying that he wanted to call *tonight, possibly ruining the plans Iwaizumi had already made.

Iwaizumi couldn’t count how many times the both of you checked the time on his phone in the next 30 minutes, barely paying attention to the show you’d been so invested in just a few minutes ago. It would be the first, and probably only, time you would have a chance to talk to Oikawa before he came home in a few days. It was his way of settling his nerves before a game-- he’d call and talk to you until he or the two of you fell asleep. More than once, both of your phones had died when you both accidentally fell asleep, and so you learned to leave it plugged in while you talked.

Iwaizumi’s phone lit up before the thirty minutes were up, like you knew it would. Oikawa was so predictable.

‘Can we do it now? I can’t wait :’(‘

And impatient.

You both laughed and stood up, lacing your fingers together as you headed towards the bedroom. Falling onto the mattress, Iwaizumi snuggled up behind you, fitting himself to your back and curling his arm over your side. Your phone screen lit up when you picked it up and he watched you input your password, navigating to the FaceTime app. Tapping on Oikawa’s name-- ‘Pretty Boy <3’-- it started ringing and he almost instantly picked up.

“Well, there’s my two favorite people in the world,” he said, smiling into the camera. His hair was damp and spread out against his pillow, his shoulders bare. “Sorry I’ve been so quiet. Practice and traveling and--”

“Yeah, yeah, Tooru, we know, you’re busy,” Iwaizumi said, and Oikawa pretended to pout, his eyes carrying a glint of mischief.

The camera jerked as he rolled over onto his side, his bangs falling into his face. “Aw, don’t sound so bitter, Haji. I know you miss me.”

Iwaizumi’s breath puffed against your ear, a sound of exasperation and irritation. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Brattykawa.”

You stifled your laughter with your hand. Iwaizumi had come up with that nickname shortly before the three of you started dating. He was constantly stumbling over his insults, feeling that his old names were too harsh as his feelings developed. It was almost painful, and it was just fortunate that Oikawa was too dense to notice. To both of your surprises, Oikawa didn’t really comment on the sudden stuttering over nicknames and always looked more concerned when it happened. And then one day, he heard you call Oikawa a brat and it just seemed to slip out.

Brattykawa.

It was a name Oikawa wore with pride, and even seemed to relish. The giggle that came through the mic scrunched his nose and proved your point as you smiled with him, feeling Iwaizumi’s lips curl up against your skin. His fingers were tracing light patterns on your stomach, tickling and making your stomach muscles twitch.

You couldn’t be sure, but it seemed like they were moving lower with every pass, until they brushed the waistband of your yoga pants. Craning your neck, you looked back at Iwaizumi, but he was wearing a placid expression, his eyes locked on Oikawa.

“What are you doing to our little princess, Hajime?” Oikawa asked when you giggled at Iwaizumi purposely tickling you. This time his fingers dipped under the waistband.

He kissed just under your ear before saying, “Nothing you wouldn’t do, Tooru. Not after that stunt in the locker room, anyway.”

You flushed from the tips of your ears down to your toes at that memory, but it ignited something else in you too. Suddenly the fingers playing at your hip weren’t playful or low enough and you bit your lip as you met Oikawa’s keen gaze.

“Oh, what would make you bring that up, Iwa-chan?” he asked, narrowing his eyes and smirking. They traveled further down, to the swell of your breasts, the lowest point he could see, and then flicked up to meet Iwaizumi’s eyes. “Are you doing something dirty?”

At his question, the fingers slipped beneath and found your clit, and the heat expanded. At the same time, he reached above your head and tilted the camera down to show Oikawa exactly what he was doing to you. Your pants were suddenly too uncomfortable, but with the phone in one hand and the other wrapped around Iwaizumi’s wrist, it wasn’t an option to pull them off.

If Iwaizumi and Oikawa would even let you.

“Is that what we’re doing tonight? Giving me a show?” Oikawa asked, watching the movement of Iwaizumi’s fingers under the black fabric. “You aren’t doing a very good job. I can’t see a thing.”

He feigned despair, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead. There was a faint flush to his cheeks and chest and his fingers twitched in the yellow light cast from above his bed. Knowing Oikawa, he was already rock hard, ready to give the two of you orders even from a thousand miles away.

Speaking of rock hard, you could feel the outline of Iwaizumi's hard cock grinding against your ass, pushing back into your own rocking hips. “I don’t think I have to listen to you tonight, Tooru.”

For a moment, you thought Oikawa was going to start pouting, but he surprised you. Rolling back onto his back, he panned the phone down, showing his boxers pushed down his thighs and his cock ready and hard, his hand coming into view and skimming his fingertips up the underside. “Give me a show, then.”

The fingers disappeared from your clit and you sighed, reaching down to pull your pants off, but they just as quickly wrapped around your wrist and a deep voice right in your ear commanded, “Don’t move.”

The phone was yanked from your hand and carefully set up on the nightstand, angled diagonally across the bed. Then Iwaizumi walked down to the foot of the bed and his fingers wrapped around your ankles, pulling you to the edge. With a laugh, you looked back to the phone and found yourself lying parallel to the phone and in full view of Oikawa.

While you stared into his wide eyes, Iwaizumi peeled your pants slowly down your legs, his fingers skimming over your thighs, your knees, your calves in their wake, leaving goosebumps behind. He adjusted you just slightly to the right and started kissing his way back up your legs, sinking his teeth into the tender inner flesh on your thighs and you gasped, slinging your legs over his shoulders.

Your moan mingled with Oikawa’s groan when Iwaizumi licked a stripe up your soaked slit, splitting your lips until his mouth covered your clit. You had just buried your fingers in his hair when his hands gripped your thighs and shoved them up to your shoulders, the movement dislodging your fingers and you instead threaded them through your own as he went to town, suckling and lapping at your clit like a man starved. Vibrations spread through your pussy when he groaned, his fingers tightening around your thighs as he ate you out.

You jerked in his hold when you heard Oikawa’s voice call out, distorted with pleasure, “You look so good, princess. Wish I was there helping him out, occupying that pretty mouth.”

When you looked up and caught sight of him, you lost the ability to breathe.

His cheeks were flushed and his hair a mess where he’d ran his fingers through it and tugged, trying to avoid touching his cock to torture himself. He’d failed and you could see his arm working up and down, too slow to be anything but teasing. When his eyes caught yours, he smirked and licked his lips before the angle changed and you realized that he was moving the camera down, showing off his slicked up cock, his fist wrapped tight around and pumping up and down at a steady pace. Precum rolled down from the head and you licked your lips as you thought about wrapping your lips around him, lapping and suckling until he came in your mouth.

The hot pleasure coiled in your stomach, ready to snap and your lips parted, your back arching while Oikawa stared you down. Your toes curled when Iwa dipped his tongue into you, wiggling and lapping at your walls and the dam broke, waves of pleasure washing through you, your hips bucking against Iwaizumi’s hold and he let your thighs go in favor for pulling you closer by the hips. You clenched your legs around his head as you rode out the last of your orgasm before pushing at his head.

“Haji, shit,” you pleaded and breathed a sigh of relief when he pulled away.

“How was that, Brattykawa? Enough of a show?” Iwaizumi asked, smirking at the man on the phone.

He was panting, his hips rising and falling as his arm worked in short jerks. The phone had fallen to the bed at just such an angle-- and Iwaizumi wouldn’t be surprised if he had done it on purpose-- that showed off his twitching cock, currently splattering cum all over his clenched abs.

The blissed out look on his face and your trembling legs locked around Iwaizumi’s hips made his own cock jump, watching the last bits of cum dribble out from between Oikawa’s fingers.

“I didn’t think you’d give up so easily, Tooru. I still haven’t cum yet,” Iwaizumi teased, settling his cock between the lips of your soaked pussy and rocking his hips. He enjoyed the way you trembled with every pass over your clit, staring up at him with glazed, pleading eyes. “What do you want, princess? Speak up, or Tooru won’t be able to hear you.”

As he said that, he pushed your shirt up to around your neck, exposing your breasts to his hungry gaze. Wrapping his lips around one nipple, he groaned when you threaded your fingers through his hair, tugging him closer and moaning out his name.

“*Hajime, I thought this was Tooru’s thing. I didn’t-- know you were a tease too,” you gasped, jerking your hips in time with the slide of his cock. You had made a mess all over it, your slick dripping down his shaft and balls and spreading all over your thighs, creating a wet slap that rang through the room.

He chuckled against your breast while an adamant “Hey,” came from the phone and switched, distracting you while he wrapped his hands around your thighs again. “No, you wouldn’t because Tooru is always teasing you. But he’s not here tonight and I don’t have to have mercy on you. Now tell me what you want.”

His movements stilled and he stood up straight, leaving your red and abused nipples free and pebbled.

“Haji, I--”

“Louder, princess,” he said, and took the base of his cock in his hand, slapping it against your pussy. He could hear Oikawa groan from the phone and when he looked up, his hand was wrapped around his cock, stroking loosely as it hardened again. “I’m sure Tooru wants to hear you beg me to fuck this pretty pussy. Right, Tooru?”

A thrill rippled through you at the dominating tone in his voice as he stared Oikawa down. In return, Oikawa gulped, licking his lips as he nodded.

“That’s right, princess. I wanna hear you scream as you cum around his cock. He’s gonna make you feel so good, isn’t he?” he asked you, but his eyes were only for Iwaizumi, who had resumed rolling his hips.

Hearing them say those things made your pussy clench in anticipation, the tension between the two men enough to block out anything else.

“Please,” you whispered, reaching out to Iwaizumi, who dropped your thigh to take your hand. “Haji, fuck me with your cock, please, I want you inside me.”

“No, no, princess,” he said, even as he slid the tip of his cock into your dripping hole. “Who do you want to fuck you tonight?”

Inching his way slowly inside was torture, but the way your lips parted and your back arched was worth going slowly for. Your cunt clenched and fluttered around him, your legs locked around his hips trying to pull him in faster as he groaned with the effort of holding back. He wanted to hear you say it, wanted Oikawa to hear you beg, knowing he got off to watching you get stuffed and stretched open by his fat cock.

“Daddy, daddy, please fuck me,” you babbled when he slowed to a stop, terrified that he was going to pull out if you didn’t ask him properly. That was something you really, really didn’t want. “Please don’t stop I need you, want you to stretch me out, fill me with your cock and cum. Daddy-- fuck.”

Iwaizumi had slammed the rest of the way inside you, hilting himself in your slick heat and pulled back out. With your head thrown back, you could see Oikawa had set his own pace to match Iwaizumi’s thrusts and you watched with an open mouth as his cock drooled all down his hand. His eyes flicked from your bouncing tits to Iwaizumi’s face, twisted with concentration as he fucked you, down to where his cock slid into your slick and spasming cunt.

“Tooru,” you moaned, licking your lips as you stared at his fist squeezing his cock for all it was worth.”

“I’m here, babygirl,” he moaned, forcing his eyes to your face. It was full of lust and love and bliss and he couldn’t help but smile at the pleading look in your eyes. “Tell me what you need. Fuck, tell daddy what you need.”

Your eyes flicked to Iwaizumi’s face for a moment and found him watching you with narrowed eyes as he raced towards the edge. His thumb flicked over your clit and you struggled to keep your eyes on him as the coil built again.

“Wanna suck your cock, Tooru. Wanna taste you,” you moaned, unable to tear your eyes away from the sight. Cum from his last orgasm still glistened on his stomach, joined by more and more that dripped from his cock. He was so close, you knew it by the way his abs clenched and his hips bucks, his eyes fluttering as he forced them to stay open, to watch you come undone all over Iwaizumi’s cock.

“It’s yours, princess,” Oikawa moaned, his breathing heavy and voice thick with his impending orgasm. “As soon as I get home, I’ll fuck your throat as long as you want, cum as many times as I can between those pretty lips. You want that, princess?”

Your hips jerked in Iwaizumi’s grasp as your vision whited out so hard that you missed him slam into you for the last time, unable to stand the way you squeezed his cock and forced him over the edge, filling you with his cum. His breath came out in puffs against your chest, where he had collapsed, sweaty and spent.

Your own chest rose and fell in uneven breaths, your heart thumping erratically against your ribs. Threading your fingers through his hair and pushing it off his forehead, you chuckled. “That was amazing, babe. Holy hell.”

He laughed, still very much out of breath and turned his head to look at the phone. You followed his gaze and found Oikawa’s face filling the screen.

Boneless and in need of cleaning up, Iwaizumi pulled out of you and stood, crawling over you to his side of the bed and pulling you into him. You snuggled down into his chest, pressing kisses to every inch of sweaty skin in your range, while he grabbed the phone and held it above his stomach.

“I owe you for that, Hajime. That was the best show I’ve ever seen. Might have to make this a constant thing whenever I go away,” Oikawa gasped, pushing his sweaty hair off his forehead. The angle of the camera was a little weird, and you realized he’d put it down to free his clean hand.

“We could probably work something out. If you’re okay with it, princess,” he said, looking down at you. You looked ready to fall asleep, but at your nickname you looked up at him and smiled, blinking tiredly.

“Hell yes,” you said, and both men burst into laughter at the fucked out tone of your voice.

Looking back to Oikawa, who wore a smirk, Iwaizumi said, “Guess we don’t have to ask her twice. You should get some sleep, Tooru. You have a big game tomorrow. Good luck.”

“Love you, Tooru. Good luck tomorrow,” you murmured, opening your eyes to look at him. He was so pretty with his cheeks flushed and his hair a mess, smiling that soft smile he only got after sex and he was so tired he couldn’t think straight.

He rolled onto his side and tucked his arm under his head, chocolate brown eyes tender and warm. “Love you too, princess. Sleep well, I’ll be home in a few days.”

You hummed and your eyes shut again, throwing your arm across Iwaizumi’s chest, curling your fingers over his heart. Iwaizumi rubbed his fingers up and down your arm, staring at Tooru and smiling.

“I love you, too, Tooru” he said, and flushed when Oikawa’s grin widened into a smile. For a moment, he thought he would make some joke about expressing his feelings, but he didn’t.

Instead he said, “I love you too, Haji. Sleep well. Kiss her for me.”

“Of course. Night.”

The screen went black as they both hit the disconnect button, and when he looked down at you, you were fast asleep, hair splayed over his shoulder and breathing even. Curling his fingers around the hand covering his heart, he pressed his lips to your hair one last time before flicking off the lamp. “Love you too, _____.”

⇥ masterlist

taglist: @lyovochkaa

#iwaizumi hajime x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa x reader #iwaizumi x reader #oikawa tooru x reader x iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu x reader #.camtime

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hansolmates · 4 years

Text

jjk; angel’s trumpet [08]

summary; one second, your life is flashing before your eyes and the next, you’re transported into a world exactly like your own. but the jungkook you meet in this world isn’t a renowned singer or your former almost-lover, in fact he has no clue who you are and why you know him so well. as you work to find your way home lost and confused, you conclude that you’re either dead or in the middle of the most wicked drug trip of your life. pairing; idol!jk x reader (f), alternatively film producer!jk x reader genre/warnings; fluff, angst, supernatural, idol!au, non-idol!au, alternate universes, themes of fate, language, alcohol consumption, in this chapter–mentions of sex, a panic attack w.c; 4.5k a/n; can’t believe there’s one more chapter after this! (+the bonus chapter!) its such a bittersweet feeling to close this all up so i hope u all join me in my w2!jk sobbing party im making matcha cookies rn so i can wallow

[07] [08] [final] -> masterpost

Jungkook’s worried.

After he left your apartment, he dove himself into his work and tried to get you out of his head. Somehow he ended up from his living room table to his bed, bleary and with a pen jabbing him in the cheek. He doesn’t know how he feels right now, and has micro analyzed every bit of your relationship in between breaks.

He fell fast, and loving you (as much as it scares himself to admit) was so easy it hurt. It’s why it’s so hard for him to accept that you would betray him like that. What could he have possibly done to deserve this? If you had just admitted your issues from day one, this crisis could have easily been averted and you would be with him right now.

But that’s not why he’s worried. Jungkook wakes up the following day around 10AM, noting the dozens of messages and unanswered phone calls from Jimin and Taehyung.

According to Taehyung, you’ve been missing for three days. Off-the-grid type of missing, to the point that Taehyung is debating on whether or not he should call the police.

The first day you didn’t come home, Taehyung chalked it up as you spending the night at Jungkook’s. The second day however, he visits the library where your office hours are held only to find your usual table empty and your students upset over your lack of contact.

“Here,” Doyeon had said, pointing to the vague email you sent. Taehyung skimmed through the barebones message, mentioning that you had to take an indefinite leave and that the students can email Professor Kim Namjoon if they still had lingering questions.

Taehyung notes the sincere apology at the bottom, and how you tack on that “you are a wonderful group of students and I wish you the best of luck in your future endeavors.”

Almost as if you aren’t planning to come back.

He could hear Taehyung deflate on the line, knowing that Jungkook has no idea where you are either.

“Did you…” Jungkook scratches his head, sitting at his kitchen table, “did you check her room for a yellow notebook?”

“What?” Taehyung asks, “I checked her room yesterday. Y’know the weird thing is? Her room is clean, like clinically clean. There’s nothing on her desk, the sheets are washed, and her clothes are all folded and put away. Usually it’s like a whirlwind in here.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook replies, remembering how your room is usually quite lived in, with warm sheets and a candle glowing.

“Why aren’t you more stressed out, dude?” Taehyung says, and Jungkook instantly feels guilty. “Your girlfriend’s fucking missing, are you gonna get up and help or not?”

“Y-yeah, I’m just a little shaken,” he manages to reply, thinking about how you tried to explain to him the other night. He pinches the bridge between his brows, regretting not letting you have your word when refusing to listen to you. Maybe if he heard it, things would have turned out differently.

Taehyung sighs, “Yeah, it’s a bit of a shock. She really isn’t like this normally, but I trust her. If you can, maybe contact Jung Hoseok? I already visited Kim Namjoon and he doesn’t know anything, but he’s the only friend I know that could have any idea.”

Jung Hoseok. He remembers that name frequently in your notebook. Not as frequently as his, but enough to have a good idea he could be involved in your sudden departure.

“Okay, I’ll visit him today.”

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

The tables that you usually occupy for study groups are painfully absent of your presence, noted by your stressed out students that are hoping you’ll show up unexpectedly.

Thankfully, Hoseok is working today. Jungkook eyes him from the doorway of the playroom, seeing Hoseok carefully distribute plates of snacks as a movie plays on the flatscreen. He looks like a preschooler himself, decked out in a sunflower yellow bucket hat and denim suspenders. Jungkook tries to see if there’s anything strange emanating from Hoseok, like if he also has secrets to hide, but feels nothing of the sort.

“You’re really creepy, Mister,” the door swings open to reveal a little girl, tugging impatiently at his cargos.

Hoseok makes a face at Jungkook, rolling his eyes. “God, just come in. You’re scaring my children.”

The little girl practically shoves him inside, forcing him to sit at the playtable on the very end. She then hands him a plate of cheddar Goldfish and strawberry fruit snacks, a toddler’s delicacy. Hoseok makes a show of telling the children to be quiet, focusing on the movie’s “historical elements” and “symbolic imagery” but they don’t understand any of that and just want Hoseok to move so they can watch Mulan.

Jungkook feels like he’s being crushed in the too-small chair and Fisher-Price table, munching absentmindedly on his Goldfish. Hoseok is playing on his phone, not sparing him a glance as he texts someone.

Jungkook swallows, wishing he had some milk to down the snack. “Uh, are you texting y/n?”

“No,” Hoseok replies coolly.

“Well, do you know where she is?”

“I can tell you where she went,” Hoseok replies eerily, plucking a fruit snack from Jungkook’s place, “as to whether she’s still there or not, I’m not sure.”

“I’m sorry, but are you mad at me?” he whisper-hisses, not wanting to disturb the children enamoured at the front of the room. He’s tired of the secrecy and blurry answers.

“Yes, I am,” Hoseok snaps just as quietly, leaning in to get into his face, “I’m mad because I believed in you.”

“Believed in me?” he gapes, “you don’t even know me!”

“I may not, but I believed you’d trust y/n at least. She’s a victim too, y’know.”

A victim?

“Look,” Jungkook puts some space between them, afraid he would get too heated, “just tell me what’s going on so I can understand. I know I messed up, but I feel like I’ve been in the dark for God knows how long.”

Hoseok bites his lip, “It’s really not my story to tell. Y/n didn’t want to tell you right away because she wasn’t sure of the circumstances. She wasn’t sure even if she was supposed to tell you.”

Jungkook watches the expressions morph on Hoseok’s face. He sees the faith in his gaze, as he holds his phone expectantly, as if he’s also waiting for a sign that you’re okay. Jungkook suppresses a sigh, looking at his own blank screen. Shaking his head, he manages to smile knowing that so many people believe in you.

So why can’t he?

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

You hate this. Three days ago you felt peachy keen, ready to transcend into your own universe and live your life to the fullest.

Now three days later you’re sitting at the wine lady’s cottage, waiting for the past two days for her to show up.

“How long does she need to go on this ‘spiritual retreat’?” you admonish, looking on angrily at the same waitress that has served you for the past two days.

“I don’t know,” the waitress has grown tired of your presence, waiting all day in the little restaurant for the owner’s presence, “until she feels more spiritual, I guess?”

It annoys you further that this waitress has the spitting image of Sehlyung. It’s weird to see her with natural pin straight black hair, always loving the pretty blond-white color and sacrificing her hair health for the bright hue. Every time she sees you still in the same spot, she makes it a point to roll her eyes and walk a little louder. This version of her is just as temperamental, unwilling to budge.

You groan, shamelessly annoyed as you drop your head on your arm. “And are you sure there’s no angel’s wine in the bar? I’m willing to take the risk of switching lives with my third dimension-self at this rate.”

The waitress eyes the one empty bottle of soju that decorate your side of the bar, chalking it up as a drunk episode. “No,” she says flatly, jerking her hand out. “Now, please pay and leave. We’re closing up, but I’ll give you a call if she decides to show up late. Since y’know, you’ve left your number here despite our protests.”

“Can I stay until you’re at least done cleaning—”

“No.”

You narrow your eyes, snatching up your half-finished bottle of soju before tucking it in your purse and offering up your credit card in exchange. You know you’re not in the right mind, but you’re pulling at strings at this point and you don’t know what to do.

After a couple paces of shaky walking and trying very hard not to appear tipsy in public, you plop yourself onto the beach, overlooking the shore. You place your backpack next to you, taking off your shoes and dipping your toes in the sand.

You glare hard at the moon, despite the distance the big ball of extraterrestrial rock is bright and full. It reflects in the ocean and bathes you in it’s grace.

Sighing at its beauty, you take a swig of your soju as your feet wade in the water. The touch of the ocean is glaringly cold, but your body feels warm and the contrast is appropriately jarring. You feel stuck between two worlds, your body in one while your heart is in the other, desperate to find the bridge to bring you home.

What exactly was the goal in bringing you here? Did you need a break from your real life? Did fate want you to remedy your relationship with Jungkook? Were you supposed to rewrite the wrongs you committed in your other life?

You snort, taking a long swig. It's easy to see how well that went.

You miss your life back home. As much as you love the one your alternate self has made here, nothing compares to Sehlyung’s humor and dirty jokes. Nothing compares to the look on Beomgyu’s face after getting a sentence translation correct. Nothing compares to the way Jungkook looks for only you after a concert, desperate to give you a hug and an affirmation that he did well.

Just as you are about to sing to the moon and beg for a reprieve, a body plops themselves next to you, snatching the bottle from your hands.

“Y’know, normally when people run away, they leave a mysterious note.”

You frown at Jungkook, who looks absolutely ethereal as he stares at the moon. He’s glittering in his denim jacket and black jeans, as if he’s part of an intimate moment in a slice-of-life film. You have half a mind to grab your phone and yell at Hoseok, but it’s far too late since your location has already been revealed.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, trying not to snap when Jungkook pours the contents of your drink into the ocean. “Hey, I paid for that.”

Ignoring you he says, “I’m here to take you home.”

“I don’t have a home here,” you snap, and you mean it.

Jungkook digs a hole for your bottle, letting the sea green grass sit in the sandhole. He turns to you, looking weary and worried. You try not to feel worried over the slump in his chest, or the way he looks like he ran a marathon to find you.

“Then where is your home?” he asks gently, resting an arm over his knee and turning to face you.

You curl up further into your body, hoping you’ll shrink if you press your legs close enough to your chest. “It’s not here,” you mumble into your knees.

“Tell me where,” and you don’t shove him away when he puts his palm on your thigh, coaxing you out of your shell. “I’ll listen this time.” Deathly slow, you lift your head up, letting him catch your stray tears and spread your body with warmth. He scoots over to you, the rough sand making it difficult as he tries to wrap his arm around you. The both of you let out a breath, missing each other’s touch. “I’m sorry,” he says, the apologies melting into your temple, “I should’ve listened from the beginning, and been more patient. It’s my fault you’re all the way out here.”

The oceans crash against both of your feet, the water eager to swallow you whole.

“Two months ago I got into a fight with you, the other you,” you start, and Jungkook doesn’t budge, and you’re thankful he doesn’t attempt to bombard you with questions, “it wasn’t a stupid fight. It was something building for a long, long time. And I came home drunk. One second, I was two seconds away from being sideswept by an incoming truck, and the next second it’s daytime and it’s you that nearly runs me over.”

He rubs small circles into your shoulder, and you almost hum at his touch. You miss Jungkook so much.

“The Jungkook I’ve told you about isn’t dead,” you explain, “he’s—and I’m, we’re from another universe.”

And between you, Jungkook, and the moon you profess your journey. Starting from the anxiety you felt from the first week, how you holed yourself in your apartment until Namjoon had to whisk you out, to your relief when Hoseok believed your crazy ideas. Halfway through you decide to piece your theories within the story, your last conversation with Jungkook, coupled with the angel’s wine and explaining how scary it was to see your matching tattoos and the meaning behind them.

“But, I wasn’t trying to fall in love with you so I could go home,” you admit tearfully, feeling the weight of the night on your shoulders, “it, it just happened naturally. It made me believe that in another world, we would’ve worked out. Just like he said.”

“I believe you,” he says firmly, exhaling. The whole explanation, understatedly, is a lot to take in. But he isn’t going to reject it, in fact as absurd as it is it makes far more sense than you planning out a Jungkook-inspired sci-fi novel or questioning your sanity. “I—I didn’t want to at first. It was easier to say you were crazy but, it doesn’t seem like the case. The way you saw me that morning we met, I could see how much you cared for me—him—us?” he scratches his head, unsure of how he should refer to himself in the situation.

“I don’t blame you,” you shake your head, “Namjoon wanted me to see a doctor.”

“It must’ve been hard,” he states, “seeing so much of him in me.”

“You are him,” you retort, looking up so that your noses are touching. There’s pain in both your gazes, equally upset at the circumstances. “I’m sorry you got the short end of the stick. I wish you could’ve met me, the other me, under normal circumstances.”

“Remember what I said before?” he asks, lifting a hand to brush your hair behind your ear. “I said that our meeting was fate. And now I believe it more than ever.”

You laugh, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Y’know, Jungkook believes in fate too. He used to joke about hearing the bell when he found ‘the one’ like in Kimi No Na Wa.”

Jungkook grins, “That guy of yours seems pretty cool,” he jokes, “let him know that in our case, the bell was my horn because I didn’t wanna run you over.”

The whole situation is confusing, but you’re thankful that Jungkook seems to be at ease now that all your cards are laid out.

“So does your Jungkook do film too?”

“Uh,” you choke out a cough, “he’s actually a singer, dancer, producer, and films when he has the time. Mostly singer, the main one in a K-pop group. With Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung, Yoongi, Namjoon, and Seokjin.”

He gapes, “Kim Seokjin? The actor Seokjin? Damn he’s like, super fine—”

“God this is so weird.”

“So how many figures are they making a year? In the hundred-thousands, like six-figures?”

“Er, more like eight,” you squeak, “and then some. But you put a lot of your money into donations.”

“Damn babe, you downgraded,” Jungkook jokes, and you smack him playfully on the arm. “So that’s how you got the song, huh?”

“Still With You? Yeah,” you say, running your hands through the soft sand, “it’s weird to live in a world without your music, byproduct of my job. It happens to be a big part of my life,” your eyes glaze over the ocean, “I missed hearing your voice.”

“Y/n,” Jungkook threads his fingers through the sand to find your hands, “I’m really, really sorry I doubted you.”

You disagree, “It’s a crazy situation. I don’t even know if I’m really sane at this moment,” you chuckle, “I mean, the time went by so fast. I would be paranoid because for you, it’s like being in a new relationship. I didn’t think it would be so easy to love you all over again like that.”

“Neither did I.” Jungkook replies warmly, and he smiles when he sees you gaping. He leans over to press a kiss to your lips, a feeling long-missed. “And a little part of me knows he feels the same way, too.”

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

It’s almost 12AM before you return to your apartment, dripping wet because neither of you anticipated the sudden spring shower. You tumble in like wet noodles, giggling like children in hushed whispers as you struggle to find the lightswitch.

The lights blare on for you, Taehyung’s fingers hanging by the toggle. His hair is wet from the shower, and he looks like he sees a Christmas miracle when he wraps you up in his arms, despite the protest of you being dirty with sand and salt.

“You dummy, don’t ever scare me like that ever again!” he sobs into your shoulder, and you return the embrace as you pat his head comfortingly.

“Sorry Tae,” you say, “had to do a little soul-searching.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, more like world-searching if anyone were to ask his honest opinion. But Taehyung is looking past your body to mumble a teary ‘thank you’ to Jungkook, and he nods his head politely.

“Well next time you soul search, you better call.”

“Done and done.”

Satisfied that you are going to stay the night and not budge, Taehyung returns to his room. He gives you a good scolding however, and he makes you promise that you’ll give him the full story over breakfast.

After that bump, Jungkook and you can’t keep your hands off each other. You two shower the grime off your bodies, taking turns shampooing and scrubbing. Even after you’re clean and towel-dried, Jungkook’s fingers fail to untack from your skin, pushing you eagerly to your mattress as he presses kisses along your clothed body. He’s singing against your skin, waxing poetics about how beautiful you are and how much he loves you.

“Jung—koo, Jungkook,” you say breathlessly, running your fingers through his damp locks, “Taehyung’s in the other room, we can’t be loud.”

“Don’t,” kiss, “give,” kiss, “a fuck,” Jungkook pants, large hands trailing over your soft skin, memorizing every inch of you, He presses his length against your thigh, insistent, “if this is the last time, we’re going off with fireworks, baby.”

And with that, you relent. It’s nothing short of electric, the way he takes great care but great power into your pleasure. He takes his time, as if it isn’t the first and last night, tracing every inch of your body because he doesn’t know what the future entails for the both of you.

You’re equally stung like live-wire, wracking with pleasure as he seals his affirmation to you with sweet nothings, bodies pressed against each other feverently like they’ve always meant to be. Every bit of contact is purposeful, unbridled and overflowing with affection.

When you’re done you’re both sweaty and almost painfully content, acceptant of the ambiguity of your futures.

“Jungkook?” you ask, holding his hand tightly.

“Yes, pretty girl?”

“Will you… fall in love with me again?”

“Is that even a question?” he balks, leaning forward to peck your nose. He smiles at the way you scrunch your face. “Your office hours are 1-3PM, Mondays and Thursdays in the general library. If you’re not there, you’re teaching the History of Neuroscience in the ARC building on Tuesdays and Thursdays from 10:20 to 12:10. I also know where you live, so.”

You don’t care how sweaty you are, and tuck your head underneath his chin, needing to be closer.

“I will find you,” he promises, “hopefully not under my bike the second time around, but I’ll take what I can get.”

“You’ll have a lot of explaining to do, y’know,” you sigh into his chest, feeling it rumble as your hair dampens. Your hair has dried long ago from the shower, but you know Jungkook’s trying hard to be strong as he cries into your crown, “you should leave before I wake up, just in case.”

“Hoseok and I will handle it,” Jungkook assures you, “we’re like the Power Rangers, defenders of space and time.”

“Alright Red Ranger, make sure you’re at least clothed before I wake up, then.”

He pulls away lightly, seeing your equally red-rimmed eyes and ruddy cheeks. Both of you bump arms as you try to wipe away each other’s tears. The moon continues its power over your bodies, the only source of light in the room. Despite its movement since your time at the beach, it continues to illuminate the room and make the moment glisten with the rhythm of time.

“You really think this is the end for us, huh?” his voice cracks, his hands cradling your face.

Stretching to reach him, you press a kiss on every available centimeter of skin on his face. His forehead, his cheeks, his chin, his lips. You take care to kiss the tears away, silently wishing nothing but the best for him. He immediately melts into your touch, and he gives you a teary smile.

“It’s not the end,” you assure, “it’s our beginning. Thank you, for loving me.”

Jungkook nods, pressing a long, sweet kiss to your lips. “I can’t wait to fall in love with you again.”

The two of you sleep like that, not with a goodbye, but with a promise.

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

W1.

When you wake up, it’s loud.

The transition is jarring, painfully so. Gone are your soft flannel comforter, replaced with dry, scratchy sheets that are a poor excuse for bedwear. Your hands are heavy, bounded by the fluids snaking into your bloodstream. Your eyes are crusty and bleary, taking in the plain white and wood room. The sharp sound of the monitor reverberates in your ears, a high-pitched reminder of your slow vitals.

Everything is painful, confirming that in fact you did get hit by that truck. You give props to your alternate self for dealing with this for the past two months.

Your eyes dart around the room, taking in the night sky and the full moon looming above you. The only other person in the room is your baby niece, who is just short of five years old. She has since ceased coloring at her little table, her little mouth gaping open like a pufferfish. You make eye contact with her, and she nearly spills over her 64-count Crayola pack as she throws herself off the chair, running over to reach for your hand.

“Auntie!” she cheers, the biggest smile on her face, “you’re awake! Mama said you were hibernating like bears do, and that you would probably wake up by spring time. She was right!”

Although it pains you to smile, you manage to squeeze her hand in return. You open your mouth, the inside feeling tacky and gross. “Ah-ah,” you grimace when no sound comes out, just rasps and ghosts of what once was your voice.

Your niece’s face crumples, and she lets go of you. “Imma go get mama, she’ll bring help!”

She leaves you alone to succumb to the beeps of your monitors and the pain in your bones. Your fingers grapple the paper-thin sheets, and your gaze drifts to the moon. You think of Jungkook, sleeping blissfully in bed, holding you with so much tenderness and care. In a matter of what felt like minutes since you fell asleep in his arms, disappears just like that.

The doctors and your family find you hysterically crying, the monitors going crazy as you hyperventilate yourself into a stupor. You feel like you’re choking on air, whatever little tubes in your body restricting access to fully express how torn and conflicted you’re feeling all over again. The medical expertise does work to evacuate your family, chalking your reactions up as your trauma catching up to you and the shock of the past two months hitting you full force.

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

It’s nearly 3AM when the music cuts out with no explanation, and Jungkook is annoyed. He just got that set down and he finally felt confident in adding facial expressions, but the manager killed the music and now his head is spinning.

He’s heaving, hands on his head as he tries to get his body back to equilibrium. He watches intently as Namjoon immediately takes the call, not even bothering to leave the studio to answer it. The rest of the members watch as Namjoon’s expressions morph into happiness, combined with short “yes”es and “I understands.”

Namjoon makes eye contact with Jungkook first and beams, “She’s awake!”

What originally felt like a hot and stifling room, immediately dissipates into an air of relief. While not all the members may not know you personally, the thought of a fellow co-worker on the road to recovery is enough to ease their exhaustion.

“What?” Jungkook doesn’t hide it, and collapses on the floor, thoroughly spent for today. “Is she okay?”

“Well, she actually just passed out. But she’s conscious.”

“What, why?” Jimin asks, rolling a water bottle over to Jungkook.

“Doctors say she woke up in a panic, started freaking out when it sunk in that she’s been in a coma since winter.” Jungkook’s heart squeezes painfully of the thought of you scared and feeling trapped in that small hospital bed.

“Well, can we go see her in the morning?” Jungkook says hopefully, biting his lip.

“We can’t,” Namjoon confesses, looking down at his shoes in disappointment, “at least not right now. y/n was apparently terrified. The doctors think she’s suffering from some form of PTSD, because she can’t recall anything that happened after she got hit. Her guardians are sending her to a facility for her to process her trauma. It’s in the countryside, and she’s not allowed visitors until she’s fully recovered.”

Just when Jungkook thinks he has you back, you’re already far from his reach. He should be happy, knowing that you are well on your way to get better. He’s thankful enough that you’re finally awake. But the small, selfish part of him wants to visit you, and comfort you.

Whether you’ll let him or not is your choice, but this time, he decides he’s going to fight for you.

#jungkook fic #jungkook angst #goldenclosetnet #bts fic #bts scenarios #jungkook fluff

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joohoneyhoe · 5 years

Text

Raindrops.

As if the rain wants its existence to be known,

Am I someone who engraved, like the rain,

My existence to you?

info: jeon jungkook x oc x kim seokjin genre: fluff, humor, angst, smut, exes!au word count: 7.4k a/n: my welcome back from hiatus gift to you guys! Enjoy! Jungkook has been waiting to be finished for three months.

“Please, Seokjin. I would really like to go on this camping trip with you.” you begged your boyfriend as you sat in the kitchen eating your morning breakfast together, sipping your coffee slowly as he scowled up at you in annoyance.

You had been with Kim Seokjin for over three years now and it had its ups and downs, but you had always been open to work on things, even if he wasn’t always so keen. To say the least, it wasn’t like any relationship you’d had previously. You had made a lot of exceptions for his “uptight” antics to say the least, exceptions you wouldn’t have made for anyone else.

But, to be fair, this had only been your second very serious relationship and at this age, you didn’t think the chances of having another if this one ended, would be that plausible.

“I don’t want to go, Tempest. For one, Yoongi will be there and I don’t like him. Plus, Jungkook is also going and I definitely don’t like him.” Seokjin pointed out, shoveling his scrambled eggs into his mouth and chewing as swiftly as his jaw would allow. He was trying to eat as quickly as possible to leave now, that much was noticeable.

“What’s wrong with Yoongi and Jungkook?” you questioned, your heart jumping slightly at the mentions of Jungkook. “Yoongi is just a dick. He’s literally never said a nice thing to me.” he almost whined, making you roll your eyes at his dramatics. He never had anything nice to say about your six best friends and frankly, it was getting old.

“He’s never said a nice thing to me and he’s one of my best friends. I’ve told you not to take it personally. He hates everyone. And what’s wrong with Jungkook?” you demanded of him, taking your coffee and dumping the rest out into the sink, it now lukewarm and not as appealing to drink.

You could admit, you were a little defensive about why he got so upset when Jungkook was involved, but he didn’t need to know the reasoning behind that, it would just make things worse. You turned around to face him, leaning against the counter with your arms crossed over your chest. He continued to scowl at you, still irritated with the conversations being had, but you didn’t care at this point. This was something you wanted to do, and not just for yourself, but with him.

“I don’t know, Tempest. He just rubs me the wrong way, plus he’s always looking at you weird and whispering to you when he’s around. I don’t like it or the way he acts when he thinks I’m not looking.” he said, pointing his finger at you. “When has he ever whispered shit to me, Seokjin?” you questioned, your brow raised in confusion.

“That time at Namjoon’s place when he had a pool party. He pulled you aside and whispered something to you when he thought I wasn’t looking.” he recalled, pushing his stool away from the the breakfast bar and grabbing his work bag.

“That was three years ago, and he was telling me I had started my period and it was bleeding through my white swimsuit!” you exclaimed, tossing your hands up in frustration, remembering that humiliating incident. “Still, he didn’t need to touch your back like that when he did it.” he barked as he straightened his black tie after putting the strap to the bag over his broad shoulders.

“Oh my gosh, Jin. That’s ridiculous. Well, I’m going whether you want to or not. It’s for Jimin and Taehyung’s four year anniversary and I want to be there. I haven’t gotten to be with all six of them since that pool party three years ago. You can either go or not go. It’s up to you.” you laid out for him, not budging an inch. It was too important to you to give in, and you had missed so many things with your friends already because of his dislike for them.

It wasn’t happening this time.

“Fine, but only because I don’t trust Jungkook.” he gave in, a scoff leaving your lips. “That means you don’t trust me either, Jin.” his tongue poked at the inside of his cheek, brow arching. “Maybe I don’t, Tempest.” you shook your head, your eyes welling with tears at his statement.

“I’ll see you after work, Seokjin.” you told him before storming off to begin packing, not even bothering to give him your usual goodbye kiss. “Whatever.” you heard him mumble, his dress shoes echoing across the kitchen tile before you heard the back door slam.

“Yeah, whatever.”

“Tempest! Taehyung and I are glad you and Jin decided to come! It wouldn’t have been the same without you!” Jimin shouted at you as you came walking down the dirt path carrying your backpack and tent, Jin following slowly behind you as he sulked.

You immediately dropped all your things and ran towards the boy, his arms wide open as you jumped at him, him catching you in a hug as your legs wrapped around his slim waist. He hugged you tightly, spinning you both around in the process. It had been almost a year since you had seen him, and it had been a year too long.

“Me too! I can’t remember the last time I got to go camping with all of you! We used to do it all the time.” you pointed out after he had set you down, your hands resting on his shoulders. You could hear Jin grumble in irritation as he picked up your discarded things and walked off in the opposite directions to go set up the tent.

“I know. We should try and make it a yearly thing again.” Jimin suggested with a wide smile, his eyes disappearing as he did. You took his face into your hands and squished, making him let out a boyish giggle. “I agree.”

“I fucking hate the outside.” you heard your best friend since preschool complain behind Jimin, your eyes darting around to find him automatically.

“We know, Yoongi. There’s a reason why you’re so pale in comparison to the rest of us.” Hoseok retorted with a laugh, coming up and clamping a hand down onto Yoongi’s shoulder, him quickly jerking away from it with a look of disgust on his sharp features.

“I have sensitive skin, alright!” he shot back, stepping away from Hoseok who just cackled at him. I watched Namjoon slowly walk over to us from his tent, his long legs carrying him smoothly in our direction. “Keep telling yourself that.” he added to the discussion, shooting me a wink as his eyes found mine.

“I hate you guys.” Yoongi snarled, his nose scrunching. Taehyung came bouncing out of what I assumed was he and Jimin’s tent, his feet bare as usual and collecting dirt along his souls. He always said that going barefoot was the best and healthiest way to connect with the earth, and frankly, you agreed. There was nothing better than feeling the cool earth beneath your uncovered feet.

Taehyung was a free spirit and it was part of the reason you loved him so.

“You don’t. That’s why you continue to hang out with us after all these years.” he stated, bounding past his friends and up to you and Jimin, wrapping his tanned arm around Jimin’s narrow shoulders.

“It’s an obligation at this point.” Yoongi mumbled, giving you a hint of a smile that only you caught. “Oh, my dear sweet Yoongi.” you said endearingly.

“Oh, come on, Yoongi. Stop being a fucking killjoy. You enjoy our company and you know it.” Jungkook’s distinguished voice echoed through the open camp site, your eyes almost instantly landing on him, heart fluttering at the sight of his dark eyes boring into yours.

“There you are, Jungkook. We thought you got lost out there.” Jimin exclaimed as he turned away from you, your eyes diverting away from the tall, muscular man as he approached confidently with a large smile on his face. “No, I just went for a long hike. It’s too nice to sit around here listening to Yoongi gripe about how much he hates being outside.” Jimin laughed. “Fair enough.”

Jungkook’s attention then turned to you, making you very aware of Jin’s sudden presence beside you. “Tempest, it’s nice to see you were able to come.” he told you with a soft smile before he acknowledge your boyfriend, holding his hand out to shake in greeting. “Good to see you too, Jin.”

Seokjin refused it, shoving his free hand in his pocket as his other arm wound around your waist. “Seaokjin, and yeah, sure.” Jungkook simply smiled, unaffected by his obvious dislike for him.

“Well, who’s up for a dip before dinner?” Taehyung questioned, hastily diverting attention from the awkward situation that had just been created. Everyone but Jin and Yoongi agreed to it, the two of them eyeing each other darkly.

“Have fun with that, I’m gonna start dinner while you guys dick around.” Yoongi informed us, heading towards the fire pit, beginning to grab all the things he needed.

“I’ll be in my truck.” Jin said, spinning away from you, but you caught his wrist to stop him. “Jin, come on. Come swim with me, please?” you begged, your eyes softening as you tried to convince him. He simply jerked out of your grasp. “No thanks. I don’t really want to feel muck between my toes and seaweed wrapped around my ankles. I’ll be in the truck. Let me know when it’s dinner time.”

“Okay…” you mumbled as you watched your pissed off boyfriend walk away from you. At this point, you were regretting your decision to bring him along. He clearly wasn’t going to change his attitude about the trip, no matter what you did.

“Come on, Temp!” Jungkook’s voice jerks you from your distress, eyes finding him as he peeled the white t-shirt from his torso. He had matured greatly since the last time you had seen him, his abdomen defined, arms bulging and thighs massive in size. You quickly shook yourself out of your trance, getting pulled in by that bunny esque smile before he turned and ran towards the dock, launching himself off of it, all the boys directly behind him.

“I’m coming! Yoongi, come on! You know you want to!” You shouted, yanking the clothes from your body as you followed, revealing your simple black one piece.

“You know I don’t, Temp.” he replied, not even bothering to turn around and just waving his hand. “Party pooper!” you hollered.

“Damn right.”

“You know he’s a lost cause, so don’t even bother!” Hoseok pointed out from the water as he pushed the hair from his eyes before splashing Namjoon with a large wave of water.

“I know, I know.” you said with a laugh, stopping at the edge of the dock and looking down at all five of the tanned men in the water. They were all beautiful in their own unique ways, each a special part of you and each equally as important.

“Jump!” Jimin encouraged as he lept onto his boyfriend’s back, holding him tightly around the neck as they both smiled happily. As you stared at them adoringly, you didn’t realize that Jungkook had dipped under the dock, hoisting himself up silently and sneaking up behind you. Suddenly, you felt hands around your waist, launching you off the dock making you screech out.

“No!” you submerge completely, those strong arms still wrapped around your waist, pulling you to the surface. You inhale sharply, flinging your arms around your assailants neck. Once you opened your eyes, you come face to face with a cackling Jungkook, his red hair in his eyes as he tried to blink the lake water from them.

“Goddammit, Jeon Jungkook!!” you scolded him, smacking his chest, trying to wrench yourself away, but he clung tightly. “You never would have gotten in if I hadn’t done that!” he reasoned, squeezing your hips lightly.

“Yes, I would have!” you defended yourself, finally slipping from his grasp and wading over to Namjoon as quickly as possible to hide behind his tall frame. He darted away from you, leaving you wide open to all four of the other men.

“No, you wouldn't have! You would have just sat on the edge of the dock and yelled at us if we splashed you.” Hoseok said, sloshing through the water in your direction, quickly catching you and spinning you around.

“You guys suck dick.” you complained as they all began to hit you with wave after wave of water, your eyes shut tight as it cascaded over you, your long hair sticking to your face, neck and shoulders.

“Well, some of us do.” Taehyung teased, Jimin punching him in the back before dunking him under the lake water, but swiftly letting him back up.

“Oh my fucking god!” you exclaimed with a laugh, everyone joining in with you in return. Jungkook’s eyes locked on yours, his teeth pulling his bottom lip into his mouth, biting back a large smile. Your heart drummed in your chest as you looked at him, but was swiftly pulled out of it by Hoseok’s hold being loosened around you.

You were so happy you were able to be there, pissed off boyfriend or not.

Six of you sat around the fire after dinner, Jungkook and Taehyung having went out in search of firewood to keep it blazing for the remainder of the evening. Despite Jin’s obvious disinterest in being there, you continued to have to good time catching up with your childhood friends. You listened to Jimin tell tales of he and Taehyung’s adventures traveling the globe together, wishing you could have been there with them like they had asked you to be.

Hoseok regaled tales of his time spent in New York while his girlfriend had begun her rise to fame in the world of modeling. He told tales of fashion shows and wondrous styles of clothing he had been privileged to see and try on. He had been built for that sort of world and yet, here he was with us, roughing it.

Namjoon spoke of his days as a scholar in the world’s most prestigious colleges, his days spent pouring over books in the most exclusive libraries across the country. How you envied his drive for the history of the world around him, his passion and dedication. He truly had a beautiful mind and it clearly showed, even when he spoke.

As usual, Yoongi sat beside you silently, his eyes focused on the flames before him as it licked at the logs. Yoongi didn’t need to look at anyone for them to know he was listening, because he always was. It may not have looked that way to someone who didn’t know him, but he was always listening.

As Jimin and Hoseok began fighting about whether New York or Paris was better, Jin stood up without a word and began to walk away from the campfire. Your head spun in his direction, body turning in your chair to face his retreating figure.

“Seokjin, where are you going?” you questioned in concern. “I'm walking to the bathroom.” he called over his shoulder, still not bothering to look back.

“We’re outside, dude. Piss in a bush.” Yoongi called out, eyes still locked on the fire, like he couldn’t pull them away from it.

“No thanks, dude. I'll be back, Tempest.”

The conversation around the fire stopped, it becoming eerily quiet as Jin’s figure retreated from your sight. You turned back around in your seat, folding your hands in your lap as you refused to look at any of your friends. Yoongi’s hand rested gently on your thigh, giving it a reassuring pat before disappearing again. Jimin got up from his spot next to Taehyung on a fallen tree that had been converted to a seat, coming over to sit in Jin’s old chair.

“Jin doesn't seem to be having a good time and he's been shooting daggers at Kook all night. Did you finally tell him about you guys.” he asked you, his hand resting on your knee as he looked at you.

“Fuck no! How dumb do you think I am, Park Jimin?” you spat, spinning your head around to make sure Jin wasn’t within earshot anymore. “You seriously haven't told him?!” he gasped, eyes wide in shock. “No! I'd never be able to hang out with you guys ever again if I did!” you whispered harshly, smacking Jimin in the chest in frustration.

“Why the hell are you even with him then, Temp?” Namjoon’s voice broke up you and Jimin’s argument, everyone turning in his direction.

“Seriously. He doesn't like any of us, and we've tried including him for the past three years. He acts like we all have the plague or something.” Hoseok chimed in, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.

“He’s not always like that you guys.” you said defensively, feeling all of their eyes on your face. “He is more than he isn't, Tempest.” Jimin stated plainly. He knew the most about your relationship, and unfortunately he was right, but you argued anyway. “You guys don't know that. You aren't around him like I am. He can be sweet and helpful.”

“Can be?” Namjoon inquired, his dark brow arched in skepticism. “You know what I mean, Joonie.” you scoffed at him. “I'm afraid I don't, Temp.” he shot back at you, his expression showing his disbelief in what you were telling him.

“He is literally the opposite of your type.” Yoongi commented.

“Oh look, the silent one finally speaks. Why don’t you go ahead and tell me what exactly my type is, since you seem to know better than I do.” you snapped, bringing your face in his direction.

“Jungkook.” Yoongi replied plainly with a shrug of his shoulders. “Why won’t you guys let that go? We broke up like six years ago.” you huffed out, becoming slightly irritated at the way the conversation was turning out. “Because neither of you seem to have let it go.” he continued.

“What are you even talking about? I've been dating someone else for three years!” you reminded him, turning your whole body to him and craning your head to meet his dark eyes. Those deep pools slowly drifted to yours, saying nothing, but eyes saying everything he wanted to.

“And yet both you and Jungkook still look at each other like you did in high school. We all see it. Why can't you guys?” Hoseok made clear, eyes locked on you, just like everyone else around the fire.

“He literally hasn't dated anyone seriously since you.” Jimin told you, beginning to rub your leg comfortingly. “What does that have to do with me?” you asked of him, confused why this conversation was still happening.

“Everything, Tempest. You're his white whale. Something he has never been able to catch and keep.” Namjoon’s soothing voice echoed through the open space, sending a calming feeling over you, like it always was able to do. “Why is that my fault?” you asked him, your voice quiet now. He gave you a gentle smile, one that could soothe even the darkest of moods.

“It isn't. It's both of your fault for not seeing how much you guys actually mean to each other.” he answered honestly, making your heart drop into your stomach.

“You guys really need to let this go.”

“Let what go?”

Everyone’s head spun in the direction of Jungkook’s voice, spotting him and Taehyung emerging from the trees. There was silence among the six of you, everyone glancing around at one another in panic.

“Temp thinks the earth is flat.” Yoongi broke the silence.

“Seriously, Temp?” Jungkook’s face didn’t hide his shock at Yoongi’s statement, you rolling your eyes in response.

“Goddammit, Yoongi. No I don't!” you exclaimed loudly, shoving his chair so hard it tipped over with him in it. He didn’t even say anything, just pushed his chair aside and lay back on his elbows on the ground.

“It's true. She does.” Hoseok agreed, smacking his own thigh as he laughed. Jimin jumped up from is seat, knocking it over as he pointed at you accusingly. “I heard it! She said the earth is flat!”

“I'm ashamed of you, Tempest.” Namjoon said as he hid a smile while shaking his head.

“I can’t believe I'm still friends with you guys after all the bullshit you put me through.” you groaned, hiding your face in your hands as you dropped your head between your knees. Yoongi chuckled from the ground beside you.

“You fucking love us.”

A distant rumble of thunder could be heard, everyone glancing up at the sky above. You could see clouds beginning to block out the stars. Raindrops began to fall, splashing along your exposed skin, sending a shiver through you.

“Fuck! The rain was supposed to hold off until tomorrow night!” Taehyung yelled loudly in complaint, throwing his hood over his head. Jungkook drops all the wood in his strong arms, them thudding loudly against the dirt.

“It's just a little rain. It'll probably stop soon.” he says cheerfully, patting Namjoon on the back before sitting down beside him.

And just like that, it begins to downpour.

“Way to jinx it, asshat.” Yoongi grumbles at him as he jumps up, the quickest he’s ever moved in all his life.

“Why do you have to be such a dick?” Jungkook shouts over the booming rain, pulling the hood of his sweatshirt up as well as he watched Yoongi dash for his unshared tent.

“Everyone get to your tents before you get too wet!” Namjoon calls out, behaving like the leader he always has been. You can hear Hoseok’s laugh in the distance, making you smile despite the rain soaking through your clothes.

“That's what she said!” he shouts.

“Shut up, Hoseok!” all the boys seemed to shout in unison, laughter ringing through the air anyway.

“Tempest, get in your tent!” Jungkook demanded, your eyes meeting his through the sleeting rain. You both just stood there, staring at one another, unmoving until you remembered that Jin was out there still.

“I have to find Seokjin!” you told him as you darted in the direction of the bathrooms. You could hear Jungkook’s footsteps trailing behind you, but stopping suddenly when Jin’s figure appeared.

“Seokjin! There you are, hurry and get back to the tent!” you called out to him, holding your hand out for him to take. “No, Tempest. I'm going home. I hate the rain and I'm certainly not sleeping in a tent while it does and waking up damp and gross in the morning.” he responded, his feet carrying him in the direction of his truck instead of you.

“But, Seokjin, you promised me you would try to enjoy yourself with me this weekend.” you reminded him, feeling your bottom lip begin to quiver. “There’s nothing enjoyable about this, Tempest. You can either come home with me or stay here. Either way, I'm going.” he snapped at you, head turning with a deep scowl twisting his handsome face.

“I'm not ditching my friends when I promised to be here to celebrate a special time for them.” you shouted at him in anger. “Have it your way. I'm going home. I don't know if I'll be around when you get back either.” he returned that anger, marching off without a second glance.

“Fine! Be that way, Seokjin! All any of us have ever done is try to make you feel welcome and you just refuse it. Go home and sulk for all I care! Actually, just pack your shit and leave!” you screamed, not caring that all of your friends were hearing the discourse, despite the heavy rainfall.

“I fucking will!” he responded back, though you could not see him anymore. You heard his truck door slam, the sound of dirt and stones flinging everywhere as his tires grabbed the mud and peeled out.

Tears fell down your cheeks as you turned to walk to the tent you had intended to share with him, your chest hurting immensely. Your clothes were soaked through and through, your hair stuck to your face and neck as you crawled inside the dry space. You grabbed a spare towel from your backpack, drying yourself as best you could while you continued to sob, realizing three years of your life had just gone down the drain.

“Tempest, are you alright?” you heard Jungkook’s voice call over the pelting rain against your tent. “No.” you answered, unsure whether or not he heard you over the noise. “Can I come in?” the zipper moved slightly, but stopped. “If you wanna see me crying like a bitch, then sure, why the fuck not.” you agreed, pulling the soping sweatshirt off your shaking frame.

He fully unzipped the flap, quickly stepping in and shutting it to keep out the rain. At that moment, you were thankful that Seokjin had been so adamant about getting the largest ten he possibly could, leaving enough space between your sleeping bags to sit without getting them all wet. Jungkook sat with his legs crossed directly across from you, looking almost like a wet golden retriever as he gazed at you. You handed over the towel to him, a small smile forming on his lips in gratitude.

“I'm sorry about Jin, Temp.” he whispered after he had removed his own sweatshirt and dried off as much as he could. You took the towel from his large hand, tossing it in the corner. The two of you sat in silence for a bit, you looking down at your hands as fresh tears fell from your eyes.

“Why are you sorry? It's not like it matters to you how he treats me, Jungkook.” you finally told him. His hand reached out, brushing the tears from your face with the pads of his fingers, taking you by surprise at the intimate gesture.

“Why would you say that? It definitely matters to me how he treats you. I care about you.” he stated, pulling himself closer to you until your knees were touching. “Well, you don't have to and I don't even know why you would after all these years. Especially after how I ended things with you after six years of dating.” he sighed, his tan face morphing in sympathy.

“Tempest, how we ended doesn't change how much you have always meant to me, and it never will.” your eyes finally met his for the first time since he entered. They were big, locked on your face and beginning to well with tears.

“Why? Why are you so forgiving? I bring the guys I've dated around you and you're always so polite and kind to them and me. I don't deserve that at all.” you confessed, your voice cracking slightly. He took your face into both of his hands, bringing your foreheads together.

“I could never be the one to cause your unhappiness, Tempest. You were unhappy when we ended, and I couldn't bear to continue making you that way. I would rather us not be together and you be happy, than with me and miserable.” he explained quietly, bumping his nose against yours.

“Have you really thought that it was you that made me unhappy for all these years, Jungkook?” you inquired, your fingers reaching to clutch onto his damp white shirt. “Well, yeah. I mean, that's the only logical reason. You don't stay with someone if you aren't happy with them or your relationship.” he revealed, pulling back slightly to look at you.

“I was never unhappy with you, Kookie. I was unhappy with me. I loved you more than anything and wanted you to be at your best, and that certainly wasn't with me.” a sob escaped your lips, your head dipping down to hide your face from his view. He quickly pulled you back up to look at him, shaking his head as a tear slid down his cheek.

“I was always happy with you! You were my best friend, the first person I ever held hands with, kissed, touched...made love to. You were and are still everything to me, Tempest! I've only ever wanted you to be where you are the happiest, even if it's without me.” your hand came up to hold his cheek after his dropped from your face, almost defeated. He eagerly leaned into your caress as you sat there silently, the rain still beating down on the tent.

“Why didn't we talk more, Jungkook?” you asked him softly, thumb brushing his cheekbone in comfort.

“Because we were twenty-one years old, Temp. We didn't really know how.”

The two of you sat quietly once again, your hand still resting along his face, his coming up to wrap around your wrist. His fingers felt as if they were burning your cold skin, his touch reminding you how much you had always missed him. Seokjin’s touch had never felt the same as Jungkook’s had, not inducing the same feelings that you were experiencing from something as simple as his hand holding your wrist.

“I miss you, Jungkook. I've missed you for so long.” you whispered, gazes locked. “I've missed you since the day you left, Tempest.” he replied, more tears falling from his dark eyes.

You leaned forward, pressing your lips to his softly. He immediately took your face into his hands, pulling you closer, almost desperately. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you up on your knees as your lips molded together nearly perfectly. You felt his legs uncross, carefully moving each onto either side of your legs so he could scoot himself closer to you, his groin pressed against your thighs. You felt his tongue dip out, touching your bottom lip briefly before he pulled away entirely and looked up at you.

“Tempest…I--I don’t want you to do this if you're going to regret it after. I wouldn't be able to live with myself.” he informed you, his body trembling from being soaked to the bone for so long.

“The only thing I regret is thinking that my life would work without you.” you expressed to him as your lips kissed him carefully. He removed your hand from his face, taking yours in his and looking up at you with a serious look on his face.

“I need you to be sure. I don't know how easy it will be to stop once I touch you. You're all I've thought about for six years.” he probed further, not taking his eyes off of you for a single moment.

“I'm beyond sure, Jungkook. Please, just touch me. I need you more than I've ever needed anyone else.”

Jungkook moved back, getting up on his knees with you and taking your face into his hands once again. His lips came down on yours roughly, tilting your head to deepen the kiss, tongue slipping past the seam of your lips. You grabbed at his back desperately, bringing his hard body flush to yours, feeling every dip and curve of every muscle against you. His hands left your face, moving down to grab at your ass, the denim feeling as if it was plastered against your flesh and he palmed you.

“Let’s get these wet clothes off and warm up before we get sick.” Jungkook suggested with a smirk, fingers toying with the hem of your black shirt. You let him remove it, the wet fabric peeling from your skin slowly. His cold shivering lips immediately came down to kiss along the swell of your breast.

“Fuck, I’ve missed your skin.” he said to you as he brought his mouth back to yours, his kiss hot and desperate. Your fingers carded through his wet hair, tugging on it as his mouth began sucking along the column of your neck.

You grabbed at his white shirt, removing him from you reluctantly to yank the shirt over his head. Once his tanned chest was revealed to you, your fingers instantly went to touch him. You traced along every curve of his well muscled chest, all the way down to the button of his tight black jeans.

“Get these off, Kook.” you demanded, popping open the button and unzipping the fly.

“You first.”

Without hesitation, you sat up and began tugging off your jeans, struggling due to how stuck to your skin they were. Jungkook let out a laugh, the thunderous sound of the rain still beating against the tent muffling any noise inside of it. You sat on the ground, your pants stuck at your thighs, trying to kick them off and failing. Jungkook crawled towards you, his large hands landing on your thighs as he continued to laugh, fingers quickly finding the edge of your waistband.

“Let me help you with that.” he teased, the muscles in his arms flexing as he ripped them from your legs in one go, tossing them away haphazardly before taking off his own.

You were both left in your underwear at this point, both shivering uncontrollably from being wet for so long. Jungkook grabbed your wrist and dragged you back to him, arms winding around your waist as he graced your skin with his lips.

“I’ve missed you so fucking much, Tempest.” he said as he took your face into his hands, his dark eyes searching your expression. Leaning down, you kissed him deeply, wrapping your arms around his thick neck.

“I just want you to love me, Jungkook.” you told him gently, legs winding around his waist as you clung to him.

“I already do.” he whispered, bumping his nose to yours endearingly with a smile.

“Show me.”

His lips met yours in a fiery kiss, hands dipping under the band of your lace boy short underwear to grip your ass while pulling you into him, his hard cock pressing into your core. You ground down into him, making a muffled moan pass through his lips into your mouth as he kissed you. Getting up off of his lap, you tugged on the band of his underwear, him hastily lifting his backside for you to pull his underwear off completely.

His thick cock sprang free, it a deep crimson and leaking already. Your hand immediately reached out to grab it, a gasp tumbling from his heaving chest as you flicked over the head with your thumb. His hands went to your underwear, yanking them down to your knees, stopping there because that’s what you were resting on. You released his length and shimmied out of them, him taking the opportunity to unhook your damp lace bra and pull it from your frame.

“God, you’re fucking beautiful.” he confessed, yanking you back to him and forcing you to sit on his lap, nestling his dick between your dripping folds. “I could say them say about you, Jeon Jungkook. Though, I have always thought that.” you told him, kissing along his jaw as he rotated his hips, dragging himself between your lips slowly.

He kissed you once again, his tongue pushing past the barrier of your lips as one hand intertwined into your hair and the other gripped his hardness, lining up with your pussy. You didn’t wait for him, just dropped yourself down, sheathing him inside of you completely, both letting out a sigh of relief. Your head landed on his shoulder, teeth sinking into the skin there as you both remained motionless.

“If I move now, I’ll lose it. I want to be inside of you as long as possible.” he confessed into your neck, his breathing heavy and hot along your cold flesh. Your fingers smoothed along his muscular back, nails digging into him as his hips began to move languidly.

“I don’t care what you do, I just want you.” you rasped out before he gave you a hard thrust, knocking the breath from you. “You have me, Temp. You always have.” your lips collided, undulating your core against him, clit rubbing against his pubic bone as he began to drill into you.

His hands gripped your ass roughly, squeezing and pulling you into him as he fucked you. You raked your hands through his dark red locks, jerking his head back to attach your mouth to his, tongues battling against one another as you ground into each other. He suddenly pulled his mouth away from yours, moving down to latch onto a perked nipple, lips wrapping around it and sucking.

Your head tilted back, pushing your chest towards his face as one hand came down to rest along his thick thigh. He wrapped his hands around your waist, fingers digging into your ribs as he held you in place while he flicked his tongue over your nipple rapidly. You grabbed at his hair again, holding tightly as he moved to the other breast, pulling it between his teeth. A loud whine escaped you, it sounding almost like you were begging for relief from the pleasure.

Jungkook suddenly lifted you off of his cock, making you gasp out when your back hit your cold sleeping bag. He let out a snicker at your surprise, his lips attacking your neck and sucking what would be dark mark into your skin tomorrow as he dove back into you without warning. You slid your arms under his, your hands grabbing his ass as he thrust fast and hard. Both of your moans filled the tent, the rain still beating against the fabric and drowning out the sounds.

“I love you, Jungkook.” you whispered against his lips after you had taken his face into your hands to look him in the eyes. He kissed you passionately, fingers curling around the back of your neck as the other held one of your thighs around his waist.

“I love you, so much, Tempest.”

You could feel your climax approaching rapidly, his cock dragging along your walls perfectly, as he always had done. As if he could feel it coming, his hand came down between the two of you, two fingers pressing to your aching pearl and rubbing. You let out a cry, back arching off the ground as he fucked into you even harder.

“Come on, cum for me.” he growled into your jaw before giving you an extra hard snap of his hips, the sound of skin echoing throughout the tent. “Fuck, Jungkook!” you cried, wrapping your legs around him tightly as the coil inside you began to tighten further. “That’s my girl, cum around my cock.” he ordered, his voice deep and out of breath next to your ear.

One last deep thrust and he sent you over the edge, your high hitting you hard, white spots erupting behind your eyes, making you see stars. He felt you constrict around him, his mouth falling open as his pace began to sputter, groans leaving his throat before you felt him release into you. He connected your lips as you both came, clinging to each other as if your lives depended on it. You helped each other through your orgasms, drawing it out as long as possible before stilling completely.

Jungkook collapsed on top of you, still lodged inside of you as he held you around the waist, his head on your chest as you caught your breath. Your fingers carded through his still wet hair, eyes closed as you listened to the sound of the rain, it soothing you as much as the weight of Jungkook on top of you was. He suddenly sat up, resting on his elbows as he looked down at you with a smile.

“I love you.” he said softly, kissing your lips with more love than Seokjin ever could have. “I love you too.” he planted one last kiss to your lips before removing himself from you, getting up and grabbing his wet underwear and pulling them on. You watched him in confusion, him quickly noticing.

“I’m going to go grab my bag. I’ll be right back.” he bent down and gave you one last reassuring kiss before exiting the tent, hearing a yelp as the cold rain hit him, making you laugh.

You crawled over and grabbed the towel from the corner early, cleaning yourself up before taking a fresh sweatshirt from your bag and slipping it on. You grabbed both sleeping bags, unzipping them and using the trick Jungkook had taught you years ago to make one big sleeping bag. Just as you finished up, the zipper of the tent sounded, a wet Jungkook stepping in and tossing his bag into the corner. He shook the water from his hair and tan skin, a shiver racking through him.

“Hey, you remembered the sleeping bag trick.” he pointed out proudly as he pulled fresh underwear from his bag and pulled them on, not even bothering to dry off first.

“Of course I did. How could I forget? Here, dry off before you get into my expensive sleeping bags.” you told him as you tossed another fresh towel his way with a chuckle. He beamed at you, doing what you asked before launching himself at you.

You both crawled underneath the sleeping bags, him wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his chest, your legs intertwining. He was cold to the touch, but you didn’t care. Not as long as it was him beside you and no one else. You kissed his chest tenderly, hand resting along his abdomen as his fingers ran along your back underneath your giant sweatshirt.

“Wait a minute,” Jungkook said, pushing you away from him, making your heart seemingly stop in panic. “Is that my sweatshirt?!” he exclaimed, a sigh of relief leaving you and then a laugh. “Yes, it is.” he pouted his lower lip at you, then pulled you back to your place on his chest.

“You always were a thief. Stealing my heart and my sweatshirts.” you laughed so loud you snorted, covering your mouth with your hand. “Could you get any cheesier, Jeon Jungkook?” he craned his head to look down at you, smiling widely.

“As much and as long as you’ll let me, Tempest.” you tilted your chin, leaning upwards to kiss him lovingly.

“I can live with that.”

“Tempest! You made it!!” Jimin screeched, running towards you at full speed with his arms open wide. You laughed as he hugged you much more gently than you had anticipated him to. “Of course I did, I wouldn’t miss it.” you pointed out after he pulled away.

“I brought a little someone along with me too.” you informed him happily. “I know you did!” Jimin dropped to the dirt and began kissing your well rounded tummy, making you smack him on the head jokingly.

“That’s not what I meant, Jimin! I brought Kookie!” you exclaimed, dragging him to his feet, his eyes looking behind you to find Jungkook with his arms full of camping gear, but a wide smile on his face regardless.

Once he reached your side, he dropped your things and quickly wrapped an arm around your waist and brought you to him, his lips landing on yours, filling you with all the love he had to give to you in one simple kiss. He kissed your forehead before winding his arm around your shoulders, snuggling you into his side.

“If I didn’t love the two of you together, you would make me physically sick right now.” Yoongi complained, a smirk on those pouty lips.

“I know, Yoongi. I know.” Jungkook replied, giving the top of your head one last kiss before picking up your things and taking it to your spot for the weekend.

“We’re glad you’re here, Temp. Together.” Jimin told you, kissing your hand before walking away. “Me too, Jimin.” you whispered as he walked away.

Your eyes wandered around the campsite, looking at the six men who had molded you into the woman you were today, appreciating each one of them individually. You had no idea how you had spent so many years without their company, because it was hard to imagine it at this point. Not after the year you had just spent with Jungkook and them.

Your life had always been missing something without them.

“I told you.” Yoongi’s voice startled you, head turning in his direction as he stood beside you now. “Told me what?” you questioned as you slipped your hand into his, him eagerly intertwining your fingers.

“I told you Jungkook was your type.” you both chuckled, looking out over all of your friends. “Yeah, you did. You were right, Min Yoongi.” you admitted willingly.

“I always am.”

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