#i need to keep playing lost judgment i need to know if they ever breath about ecah other again idc if hoshino there go away

[todayisafridaynight]

remembering law yuri today everyone how are we ......

[itsgiovanna]

playing for love (chapter 15)

pairing: fem!character x mason mount

summary: injured and lost, mason mount begins his recovery with the help of adeline alderidge, a tough yet brilliant physiotherapist. but, some wounds don't heal easily, and the closer they get, the more mason realizes she might need saving just as much as he does.

notes: hope this chapter can make us forget about last night's game :( anyway, enjoy!!!

word count: 4.3k

warnings: none! just fluff.

next: chapter 16

tag list: @avalentina @coffeevacation @destinyg237 @obi-wansgirl

She was twenty-one again. Cold tile under her bare feet. Her father’s voice, sharp and thunderous, cracked through the air like a whip.

“You’ve got to be joking.”

Adeline stood still in the kitchen, clutching the folded ultrasound image in her coat pocket. Her hand trembled, and her voice — when it finally broke through the fear — was barely a whisper. “I’m keeping the baby, dad.”

Her mother said nothing, her eyes glossed with something close to shame. Her father’s face twisted, red creeping up his neck.

“You are not keeping it, Adeline.”

Adeline’s breath hitched. She opened her mouth to speak again, but the words tangled behind her teeth. Then, his hand moved — too fast, too sudden. Her instinct pulled her back, heart racing, flinch sharp as a slap.

“No!” she cried out.

Breathless. Eyes wide. The room was dark, save for the silver glow of rain slipping through the curtains. Her chest like she’d just run miles in her sleep. For a moment, she couldn’t remember where she was — until, the scent of his skin, the soft warmth of the duvet and the subtle creak of the mattress anchored her.

“Hey. Hey.” Mason said softly beside her, instantly awake.

He sat up, concern etched deep in his face. One hand came up to her back, the other found her hand under the covers. “You’re okay.”

Adeline couldn’t speak at first. Her lips were parted, but, no sound came. She rubbed a palm over her face, trying to quiet the tremor in her hands.

Mason’s brow furrowed, voice still low, gentle. “Bad dream?”

She gave a small nod, swallowing hard.

“You were screaming in your sleep.” he said carefully. “Like… shouting it.” He squeezed her hand lightly. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Her throat tightened again. For a second, she wanted to say yes. To tell him everything. But, the words were buried under years of silence, of building walls no one had tried to climb before him.

“I’m fine.” she finally whispered.

“Sure?”

Adeline turned to look at him then, finally. His hair was a mess from sleeping and his eyes — still heavy, with concern — searched hers like he could find the truth hiding behind them.

“I don’t want to ruin your morning, Mase.” she said with a tight smile.

“You already did.” he deadpanned. Then, added softer. “You scared the hell out of me.”

Adeline’s smile flickered. Her shoulders sagged a little.

Mason hesitated, then brushed her hair behind her ear, letting his fingers linger on her cheek. “I’ve never seen you like that, Ady.”

“I don’t really talk about… that part of my life.” Her voice was quiet. She looked down at their intertwined hands. “It was a long time ago.”

“But, it still gets to you.” He didn’t say it like a judgment. Just… a fact.

She nodded slowly.

Mason leaned in, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Alright.” he said simply. “I won’t push. But, I’m here, yeah? If it ever gets too heavy to carry on your own.”

Adeline blinked fast, trying not to tear up again. She leaned into him, her head resting on his shoulder as his arms wrapped around her.

“I know, Mase.” she murmured. “Thank you.”

The rain kept tapping against the windows, soft and steady, as they sat there together in the early morning dark — her nightmares still lurking in the edges, but his heartbeat a steady rhythm that kept her grounded.

(...)

Mason walked into the kitchen barefoot, hoodie over his t-shirt, hair a mess and eyes still carrying the weight of sleep. He looked around and smiled — his mom was at the stove, her back to him, flipping something on a pan. His dad was settled at the table, reading the back of a cereal box like it was the morning paper and Stacey was leaning against the counter, sipping tea.

“Morning.” Mason said, voice still gravelly.

“Morning, dear.” Debbie called over her shoulder with a smile. “You’re up early.”

“Smelled toast.” he said, grabbing a mug from the shelf.

“Sleep alright?” Tony gave Mason a nod from behind his cup of coffee.

Mason poured himself some tea. “Took a bit, but, yes.” He paused, then added, “Adeline didn't sleep well.”

Debbie glanced over her shoulder again, her brow gently pinched. “Oh, no. Is she okay?”

“She didn’t say much. Just woke up startled.” Mason leaned on the counter, wrapping his hands around the warm mug. “Seemed shaken, but she settled down after a while.”

“She seems put together.” Stacey murmured.

“She is.” Mason said softly, nodding.

Debbie placed eggs on a plate, while Stacey, reached for the butter.

“Where’s she from again?” Stacey asked casually.

“London.” Mason said. “Moved when Lily was a baby, a few years ago.”

“That’s a big move with a little one.” Tony said thoughtfully. “Must’ve taken guts.”

“Yes.” Mason replied. “She’s tough like that.”

Debbie smiled warmly. “She’s lovely. Lily too. You can tell Adeline’s doing a beautiful job with her.”

Mason's mouth curved slightly. “I know.” There was no prying. Just, quiet admiration.

“Has she got family still down there?” Stacey asked gently, spreading jam on a piece of toast.

“I don’t know. She’s never really said.” Mason shrugged lightly.

Debbie, now seated with her tea, offered a soft, thoughtful smile. “Well, if she ever feels like talking about it, she will. No rush. Sometimes people just need to feel settled first.”

Mason nodded slowly, the comfort of his family’s tone grounding him. “Sure.”

They fell into light conversation again — about Stacey’s little ones staying over at Jaz’s and the plans for the day.

(...)

The sunlight was filtering gently through the blinds when Adeline stirred awake, tangled in soft sheets that still smelled faintly of Mason’s cologne. For a moment, she stayed there — quiet, still — letting the warmth of the room and the memory of the night before settle over her skin like silk.

She remembered the way she had crept into the shower, barefoot and half-blushing. And, how his eyes had darkened the second he saw her. There were no questions, no hesitations — just hands, mouths, water, heat. She hadn’t expected it to feel that… intimate. There was something different about the way he touched her. The way he looked at her, like she wasn’t a fling or a momentary distraction.

Throwing back the covers, she padded quietly to the bathroom, brushing out the sleep-mussed waves of her hair. She found Mason’s hoodie folded over the edge of the bed, tugged it on and let it swallow her. It smelled like him — safe, clean and something maddeningly boyish.

By the time she stepped into the living room, Mason was already there. Shirtless, sitting cross-legged on the rug in front of the couch, his phone in one hand and a mug of tea on the table.

He looked up the second he noticed her — and smiled.

“Morning, love.” he said, voice still thick with sleep and warmth.

Adeline felt it everywhere, that one word. Like heat rising under her skin.

“Morning.” she murmured, stepping over to him. He leaned up instinctively to kiss her, short, but deep, fingers grazing the side of her thigh as she knelt beside him.

“Where's everyone?” she asked against his mouth, eyes flicking around the quiet house.

“Out.” he said, thumb brushing gently at the edge of her hoodie. “Mom, Dad, Stacey and Harry left after breakfast. They’ve gone to Jaz’s with the kids for the day.” He leaned back slightly, eyes warm. “Mom said something about giving us some space.”

Adeline chuckled softly, letting herself fall sideways, curling into his chest, his arm already sliding around her waist.

“Stella messaged me.” she said after a beat, fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest. “Said Lily’s like a little hurricane. Jumping on the couch, probably hyped on too much candy.”

“She’s never been here, has she?” Mason asked, glancing at her gently.

Adeline shook her head. “No. I never really… I don’t know. This place feels like yours. Mine’s more crayons and crushed biscuits.”

Mason smirked. “Guess we’ll have to let her take over this place someday too.”

Her heart skipped a little, but, she kept her tone breezy. “You say that now. Wait until she draws a princess on your wall.”

“I’ll frame it.” he said easily and she rolled her eyes.

There was a short lull, the kind that felt full, not empty.

Then, Mason shifted slightly, they were eye to eye. “You know… they really liked you.” he said. “Mom, Dad. Stacey and Lewis too. Said you were lovely.”

Adeline blinked slowly, trying not to show how much that meant. “They’re sweet. It wasn’t too overwhelming, was it?”

“No.” he said, eyes never leaving hers. “You fit right in.”

She swallowed the knot forming in her throat, covering it with a quiet smile.

And, then he added, casually. “I was actually gonna bring this up yesterday, but, everything was a bit mad.”

“What?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Every year, me and the boys — Ben, Dec, Kai — we go on this trip.” he began, brushing a strand of her hair back. “Just a week, somewhere warm. Beach, sun, no press, no noise. Just football, beers and bad tan lines.”

She smiled. “Okay...”

“Well...” he went on, tilting his head. “This year… I want you to come with me.”

Her eyes widened slightly. “Me?”

“Yes, you.” he said, grin tugging at his lips. “You need a break. A proper one. Just… relax. Be by the sea. No work, no stress. Let me spoil you a bit.”

Adeline shifted, a little overwhelmed. “Mason… that’s — it's really sweet. But, I don’t know. That’s… that’s a lot. It’s your thing with your mates. And—” she hesitated, “I don’t really do the whole being-dependent-on-someone thing. Especially, for a insanely expensive beach vacation.”

Mason didn’t push. Instead, he leaned in, eyes soft but playful. “It wouldn’t be a trip without you, love.”

There it was again. That word.

She froze slightly, blinking at him. “Say that again.”

“What?”

“That last bit.” she said, narrowing her eyes with a teasing smile. “Slowly.”

He leaned in closer, dropping his voice deliberately. “Wouldn’t be a trip without you… love.”

Adeline let out a small, involuntary laugh, cheeks flushed and eyes dancing. "God. You’re lucky that accent works."

Mason smirked, kissing the corner of her mouth. “Does it, now?”

“Very.” she murmured, pulling him back in.

His hands slid up under the hoodie, and for a moment, the conversation faded into something else entirely — heat, chemistry, that magnetic pull they were both too helpless to resist.

But, somewhere in her mind, even while her lips moved against his, she thought: maybe, she’d say yes to that trip after all.

(...)

The moment Adeline turned the key and stepped inside her flat, she was ambushed by the sound of little footsteps and screaming voice.

“Mommy!” Lily barreled toward her, arms wide, cheeks flushed with excitement and Adeline barely had time to drop her bag, before her daughter was wrapped, tightly, around her legs.

“Oh, my heart.” Adeline whispered, crouching down to gather her into her arms. “Did you miss me?”

Lily nodded, her curls bouncing wildly. “But, only a little, because Auntie Stella let me eat marshmallows in my cereal and we made a tent out of towels!”

“Is that so?” Adeline asked, tickling her ribs. “That sounds like rule-breaking.”

“Only the fun kind, mommy.” Lily grinned.

Adeline laughed as she stood, hugging her daughter once more before setting her down. Lily skipped off into her room, no doubt to retrieve one of the million stuffed animals she needed to introduce to her mom, again.

Stella emerged from the kitchen, a mug in hand. Her hair was a mess of soft waves and she wore one of Adeline’s oversized cardigans.

“You.” she said, pointing over the mug. “Look like you got struck by lightning. In the best way.”

Adeline arched a brow, toeing off her shoes. “Good morning to you, too.”

Stella flopped onto the couch, tucking her legs underneath her. “I’m just saying… you’ve got that afterglow. It’s like your skin is blushing. I need to start dating athletes, clearly.”

Adeline chuckled, sinking beside her. “I missed this. Just… waking up to chaos and coffee.”

Stella took a long sip. “Yeah, about that. You also missed Lily doing a Beyoncé concert at 7 o'clock in the morning. She dedicated ‘Single Ladies’ to her breakfast.”

They both burst out laughing, and Adeline shook her head fondly. “That child…”

“She’s iconic, I won’t lie. But!” Stella leaned forward, eyes glinting like she’d been holding it in for hours. “Now that we got Beyoncé out of the way — talk. Spill. Everything. I’ve been dying over here. You left the flat looking like a snack and came back practically glowing. Don’t try to downplay it.”

Adeline rolled her eyes playfully, but, a bashful smile tugged at her lips.

“Let’s start with the match.” Stella pressed. “I've watched the interview. He mentioned you. Like, not subtly. Man was practically blushing.”

“I nearly sunk into the floor, Stells.” Adeline groaned.

“No, babe, he looked smitten. I thought he was about to propose mid-interview.”

Adeline covered her face, laughing. “It was surreal. Watching him play like that, being in the private box with his family...”

“Oh, right!” Stella snapped her fingers. “How was the VIP experience? Did they hand you champagne and diamonds?”

“They handed me nerves, actually.” Adeline admitted. “But, his family is lovely. His mom's gentle, his sister’s funny, his dad’s chill... I mean, it was, surprisingly, easy. I didn’t feel like I was intruding.”

Stella gave her a knowing look. “Because, you weren’t. You belong there, Ady.”

Adeline tilted her head, softening. “Sure.”

“Alright. But, what about after the match?” Stella grinned, wiggling her brows. “You stayed the night… like, officially.”

Adeline bit her lip, cheeks heating. “I did. We had dinner with his family and I—uh—I may... have snuck into his shower.”

Stella let out a gasp so dramatic it echoed. “Adeline!”

Adeline held up her hands, grinning. “Hey! It was a very nice shower.”

“I’ll bet it was. With very nice results.”

“Let’s just say...” Adeline chuckled. “Things changed last night.”

“How?” Stella leaned back, arms crossed.

Adeline sighed, the smile lingering. “He wants to be with me, Stells. Like... really be with me. And, I want that too.”

“Girl, you’re gonna make me cry into my cereal.”

They shared a quiet moment, full of understanding and years of friendship compressed into a few heartbeats.

Then, Adeline continued. “This morning was calm, sweet. His mom left a note. They all went to Jaz’s to give us space. And then... he mentioned the trip.”

“Trip?” Stella blinked.

Adeline fidgeted slightly. “Apparently, he and the boys go away every year. Somewhere warm. Sunny. By the beach.”

Stella’s eyes widened. “Okay!”

“He wants me to come, Stells.” Adeline said, barely above a whisper. “Spend the week with him. Relax. Just us.”

“And... what’d you say?” Stella grinned.

Adeline hesitated. “That’s the thing... I told him I’d only say yes if you came too.”

“Wait. What?” Stella blinked.

Adeline grinned. “I mean, Jaz offered to stay with Lily for the week, she’s got it all planned and honestly — Stella, you’ve done so much. You deserve a break too. And it felt weird going without you.”

Stella’s mouth hung open. “You — you’re asking me to join you on a beach vacation with hot footballers?!”

“Absolutely.”

“Ben better bring his sunglasses, because I’m packing bikinis and intentions.”

“You’re impossible.” Adeline threw her head back, laughing.

“But, lovable.” Stella winked. “You’re doing the right thing, babe. You both deserve this.”

Adeline looked down at her tea again, that warm smile still playing on her lips.

(...)

The sun was high, golden and unexpected for Manchester, blanketing the terrace and casting light across the pool’s surface. The breeze was soft, the kind that carried laughter and the smell of freshly cut grass, not one grey cloud in sight — rare enough that everyone had gravitated outdoors to soak it in.

Mason sat by the edge of the pool, legs dangling in the cool water, grinning, as one of his nieces paddled by with her little floaters. She splashed at him, giggling madly when he retaliated with a small wave that hit her back.

“I’m telling mom!” she squealed.

Mason chuckled, shaking his head, water droplets sliding from his hair. “I’m innocent.”

Nearby, his parents and siblings were gathered around the outdoor table, deep in conversation. His mom’s laughter rang out now and then — something about a neighbor’s dog — while his dad sipped, a cold drink, sunglasses perched like a crown of leisure.

Declan dropped down beside Mason with a grunt, a beer in hand, while Ben pulled up a lounge chair and kicked his feet up dramatically.

“Alright, king.” Declan teased, eyeing Mason with a smug smile. “You gonna tell us why you’re walking around like you’ve just won the Champions League and adopted five puppies?”

“You’re not far off.” Mason snorted.

Ben leaned forward, curiosity already brewing behind his sunglasses. “Does this have something to do with why Adeline isn’t here today?”

“She had some work stuff to sort.” Mason said, glancing down at his phone instinctively. “But, yes… she texted me earlier.”

“And?” Declan raised a brow.

“She's coming with us, to the trip.” Mason tried to keep the grin from breaking across his face but failed.

“Seriously?” Ben’s eyebrows flew up.

Mason nodded. “Said she’s in — with one condition.”

Declan tilted his head. “Which is?”

“She wants to bring Stella.”

There was a beat — then Ben blinked, sitting up straighter. “Wait, that Stella?”

“Who’s Stella?” Declan looked between them.

“You’ve met her, haven’t you?” Mason shot Ben a look.

Ben scratched the back of his head, lips twitching. “Once. At the park, remember? That afternoon I met you for a quick coffee and I was with—what’s-her-name…”

“The yoga instructor?” Declan smirked

“That’s the one.” Ben pointed.

“Pretty sure you stood there like you’d never talked to a woman before.” Mason grinned.

Ben held up both hands. “Listen, I panicked. Stella gave me a look that could kill and I just—acted.”

“What happened to yoga girl?” Declan laughed.

Ben shrugged, playful and breezy. “Didn’t work out. Turns out flexible doesn’t always mean emotionally available.”

“You’re a walking headline, mate.” Mason chuckled, shaking his head.

Ben leaned back on his elbows. “Hey, Stella was cool. Sarcastic. Kinda terrifying. I wouldn’t mind seeing her again — under less third-wheel circumstances.”

“You trying to flirt with your mate’s girl’s best friend now?” Declan raised a brow.

“I’m just open to possibilities.” Ben grinned, unapologetic.

Mason laughed again, his eyes drifting to his phone where Adeline’s message still glowed on the screen — her saying yes, her trusting him enough to go.

(...)

“Mommy, can we get this?” Lily’s tiny hands struggled to hold up a giant, floppy neon-pink hat as she waddled over, the thing almost covering her whole face. Her curls bounced, and her eyes sparkled with the kind of confidence only toddlers possess.

Adeline tilted her head, suppressing a laugh. “Sure about that one, bug?”

“It’s so pink.” Lily beamed. “It’s like a flamingo!”

“She’s not wrong.” Stella snorted.

“Please!” Lily crossed her arms.

Adeline gave up with a sigh. “Fine. But, only this one, deal?”

Lily nodded enthusiastically. “Deal!”

Adeline smiled, crouching to her level. “You’ll be the cutest flamingo in Jaz’s pool.”

“I’m gonna jump so high!” Lily spread her arms dramatically, nearly knocking over a rack of floaters.

“And this, is why we don’t feed toddlers espresso.” Stella caught one midair.

“I don’t drink espresso, Auntie Stella. That’s for grown-ups.”

Adeline laughed, tossing the swimsuit into their basket along with arm floaters, sunscreen and a watermelon-shaped pool toy. “She’s going to be living her best life next week.”

Stella smirked. “While her mom lives her best life with a, shirtless, footballer in tight shorts.”

They moved through the mall, laughing, making mental checklists of what they still needed.

Then, came Stella’s moment.

“Oh my God.” she whispered. “Lingerie. We’re going in.”

“No, we’re not.” Adeline replied instantly.

“Oh yes, we are. You’ve got a footballer boyfriend now. That’s basically lingerie law.”

“I’m not—he’s not—” Adeline sighed. “Fine. But, we’re not staying long.”

Inside the store, the lighting was dimmer, softer. Racks of delicate lace and silk lined the walls like pastel temptations. Stella wasted no time, holding up a lacy red set to her chest.

“I'll make Ben Chilwell have a heart attack.”

“Stella!” Adeline nearly dropped her basket.

“What? A girl’s gotta manifest.”

Lily, meanwhile, was trying to wrap a silky robe around her like a cape. “I’m a queen!” she announced proudly.

“Yes you are, love.” Stella agreed, blowing her a kiss.

“Oh… Adeline?”

Stella’s head snapped around fast, almost cartoonish.

Standing awkwardly near a rack of socks was a woman Adeline never expected to see again. Older. Paler. But, unmistakably her — Lily’s paternal grandmother.

Her gaze dropped to Lily, who was now, intently, inspecting a heart-shaped cushion.

“Hi.” Adeline stiffened.

“She’s… beautiful.” The woman’s eyes flicked back up.

“Mommy, who’s that lady?” Lily looked up, curious.

Before Adeline could answer, Stella stepped forward with that sharp, charming smile.

“Hi, I’m Stella — Adeline’s friend, Lily’s aunt and the person who’s going to kindly ask you to take your drama elsewhere.”

The woman tried to speak, but, Stella cut her off.

“Look, I’m not here to be mean, but this isn’t the time or place for this little scene. If you want to talk to Adeline, send a message. Meanwhile, leave her alone — she’s busy shopping for awesome stuff to feel amazing.”

She winked at Adeline, who gave a nervous chuckle.

The woman took a deep breath, tears threatening to fall. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry…”

“Well, you know what? Sorry doesn’t pay bills, change diapers, or raise a kid. If there’s nothing else, the exit’s right over there — and it’s automatic, just so you know.”

Stella turned on her heel and returned to Adeline, pulling the basket with a sly grin. “Ghosts handled, mission accomplished. You good?”

“Thank you, Stells. I simply couldn’t speak.” Adeline let out a slow breath of relief and gratitude just as Lily came bounding back with a fluffy robe that almost swallowed her whole.

“Look! It’s like a cloud! You’re gonna be a cloud, Auntie Stella!”

Stella grabbed the robe, bowing dramatically.

“Saved by a fluffy cloud and a little fire in the eyes. That’s how we survive.”

(...)

The flat was quiet, the usual late afternoon calm broken only by the muffled sound of Lily kicking off her sandals by the door and announcing. “I’m tired and my feet are grumpy!”

Adeline laughed, her own legs sore from chasing after her mini tornado through the mall for hours. They’d dropped off Stella and now, back home, everything felt slower — like the day was finally letting them exhale.

“Alright, little fish.” Adeline said, walking toward the bathroom. “What do you say to a bubble bath?”

Lily’s face lit up. “Yes! But, I need to get my friends! They wanna go swimming too!” And with that, she darted off to her room.

Adeline turned on the taps, letting warm water pour into the tub. She tested the temperature with her hand, added a generous splash of lavender bubble bath and watched as foamy clouds began to rise.

Lily returned moments later, her arms overflowing with toys — a rubber duck, a mermaid with pink hair, a velociraptor with a little bow on it and what looked, suspiciously, like a unicorn wearing a tiny cropped.

“They said it’s a pool party!” she declared, tossing them one by one into the tub like a very determined cruise director.

Adeline chuckled. “Very exclusive guest list, I see.”

She helped Lily out of her little overalls and into the tub, rolling up her own sleeves, sitting on the floor beside it, arms on the edge as Lily splashed and narrated a story involving the mermaid rescuing the rubber duck.

For a while, it was just warm water, bubbles and soft laughter.

Then, out of nowhere, Lily stilled. She looked at her mom with those impossibly big eyes and asked. “Are you happy, mommy?”

Adeline blinked. The question was gentle, simple — but, it cracked something open inside her.

She smiled softly, brushing a damp curl from Lily’s forehead. “I am, sweetheart.”

And, it was true. She thought about Mason, about his hand brushing hers while they walked, the way he looked at her. She thought of how Lily had sung to a stuffed flamingo that morning and how, even with all the chaos, her life felt lighter and warmer.

“It’s not perfect all the time.” Adeline added, after a breath. “But, I’m really happy when I’m with you. You make every day better.”

“Even when I drop spaghetti on the carpet?” Lily gave a bubbly grin.

“Yes, bug.” Adeline laughed.

There was a little pause while Lily made her mermaid kiss the dinosaur, then, just as Adeline reached for the sponge, Lily tilted her head.

“Is Mason gonna be in our family now?”

Adeline froze for a second, then tilted her head too. “What makes you ask that?”

Lily shrugged. “He makes you smile a lot. And, he said I’m his favorite little teammate.”

Adeline’s chest squeezed so tight it almost hurt — in the best way.

She smiled, tracing a hand over Lily’s tiny fingers beneath the bubbles. “Well… I don’t know what the future will look like exactly, but I think Mason is someone really special. And... people like that?” She gently tapped Lily’s nose. “They’re always welcome in our family.”

Lily grinned. “Can I show him how the mermaid saved the unicorn?”

“Definitely.” Adeline said, scooping bubbles onto Lily’s shoulders like little cloud capes. “He needs to be caught up on all the important things.”

And as Lily launched back into her elaborate, nonsensical storytelling, Adeline leaned her head back against the cool tile, smiling quietly to herself.

(...)

[spectorswife]

Where the Heart Never Left

Pairing: Kuai Liang/reader

Word count: 4.1k

Warnings: 18+ only, SMUT with plot, p in v sex, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, biting, fingering, edging, afab!reader, let me know if I missed anything please.

AN: this is my first time writing a fanfiction, so I apologize in advance if this is terrible. This is definitely not proof read

This takes place during part 1 of the story, after Bihan and Kuai fought. (I have not played the DLC yet so please no spoilers) but enjoy the read :)

MDNI PLEASE

It’s been weeks since you stood by Bi-Han, trying to rebuild the Lin Kuei in his image, and every day feels heavier than the last. A part of you keeps whispering that this is the right path, but the weight of what you left behind gnaws at you constantly—your partner, Kuai Liang the only person who ever made me feel like home; who is also Bihan’s brother. You thought you could live with that choice, thought you could bury it deep enough, but it still haunts you. The memory of that day claws at your mind every night, refusing to let go. You abandoned the love of your life, betrayed him for some misplaced sense of duty, and the guilt... the guilt is suffocating. You know you've let him down; you can feel it. He’s probably disgusted, and honestly, you don’t blame him. You deserve it. You  left him to burn while you sought comfort in the cold. 

*I keep telling myself to let it go, but my mind refuses to listen, dragging me back into this endless pit of doubt. No matter how hard I try, it claws at me, screaming that I’m wrong—always wrong. It was all too much. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, so I left. I left the temple, my Grandmaster, the Lin Kuei; only for a little while. I just needed space… I needed air that wasn’t thick with guilt, shame, and judgment in every corner, hearing Kuai’s voice whispering in my head begging me to not leave and his brother telling me I’ve done the right thing. I couldn’t take it anymore, too much for me to handle.. I know I’ll go back, I have to.. That place is a part of me, no matter how much it hurts.*

——————————————————————————————————

*I’m home, but nothing feels right. I thought the voices, the guilt, would stop once I left the source of my agony altogether for a bit. But damn, it’s still here, eating away at me. I want it all to stop. I want what’s best for the clan, but not at the cost of my own sanity. I miss how things used to be. No feuds, no Shang Tsung—just... peace. Gods, I miss you.. I miss you Kuai. I miss what we were, before I walked away. Every part of me wishes you’d come back to me, even though I know I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve you. I can’t shake this gnawing feeling that I ruined it all, and there’s no going back now. I must live with it, even though it keeps me up at night.*

The nightmares never stop. You can barely sleep, and when you do, it’s worthless. Most nights, you stay up, trying to outrun the horrors that haunt you the moment you close your eyes, but it doesn’t matter. None of it does. Being awake is just another nightmare—one you can’t escape from. Every breath, every second, is a reminder that you're still trapped, still living the same twisted nightmare; the loss of the love of your life. Sleep offers no peace, but neither does staying awake. It’s a never-ending cycle, and you're drowning in it. All because you picked a damn side. *Damn you Shang Tsung.. Damn you.. you ripped my family apart. These brothers — they were my family. Kuai.. my love, Bihan.. my teacher My protector, Tomas.. My good friend… they were everything to me. Everything I had, and you poisoned Bihan’s mind, shattered the bonds we shared. You took them from me, turned them against each other. I’ve lost everything and… you *gained* from it.. Damn you*

———————————————————————————————

It’s one of those nights again. The nightmares come for you the moment you fall asleep, playing out the same twisted scene on repeat. Bi-Han and Kuai fighting—again. You see it all happen just like before: the ice blade slicing across your lover’s face, the blood, the pain. But this time, it’s worse. This time, Bi-Han doesn’t stop. He goes to finish it, to end Kuai right in front of you... and you’re frozen, helpless, unable to move. Just as the nightmare is about to unravel into something even darker, you’re jolted awake by a knock at the door.

You wake up, disoriented, your mind still tangled in the nightmare. Who could it be? You drag yourself to the door, every step weighed down by exhaustion, your body a mess—hair disheveled, clothes wrinkled, eyes heavy with the remnants of sleep.

You open the door and you see him

Kuai? Your eyes widen instantly with still hints of sleep behind your eyes. He looks rather frantic as well..

What are you doing here? It’s late. More importantly.. Why are you here?

Kuai exhibits a rather shocked expression seeing you in your disheveled state. He didnt think you would answer the door, or quite frankly, even be home. But he quickly composes himself.

“Im sorry for waking you. I didn't realize it was this late. I couldn’t sleep myself. I just… need to speak with you.. May I come in?”

You stare at him with such a soft expression after hearing his words. It’s been so long since you’ve seen him, so you allow him in without a second thought.

“I’m going back to my room to fix myself, I’m a mess right now… evidently… If you wish to follow, please don’t hesitate”

Kuai nods appreciatively and follows you into your home. As you two both enter, you can sense that something is troubling him, however youre conflicted in whether or not it’s your place to ask. But you cave in anyway.

“What’s troubling you Kuai Liang”. The thought of not being as affectionate with him anymore since the incident is killing you, but you know its not right to feel as if your entitled to it.

“It’s… a lot of things, really. But the main thing that has been on m mind these past few weeks is us. Our situation really, or better yet, our separation you can say. I know you chose Bihan’s side, but part of me feels like whats left of us is still there..”

You look back to him confused after fixing yourself up 

“I didnt think there was still an "us" Kuai Liang.. I kept telling myself that since that day. I kept telling myself that you hated me so I wouldn’t continue dwelling but- it wasn’t working”

Kuai’s heart aches as he hears your words and his gaze towards you softens as well. 

“Till this day I still don't understand why you chose his side. But I know you, and you probably have a better judgment than him. I've just been struggling with my feelings for a whole. I cant shake the memory of what we once had before the feud. I cant shake- "

Kuai hesitates for a moment before he finishes his sentence 

“I can’t shake the love that I still hold for you”

A surge of surprise and relief washes over you at his words. You decide to take a seat because its all too much to handle. Deep down, you always hoped he’d come back, but there’s a part of you that knows you don’t deserve his love—not after everything you’ve done. You can’t let yourself make any assumptions, so instead, you blurt out the question.

“What are you saying Kuai Liang…”

Kuai takes a seat next to you, there is still some tension present, your bodies aren’t facing each other but his eyes are locked onto yours as he considers what he wishes to say next.

“I’m saying I want you.. my sweet girl.. if you-  still wish to be called that. I want us together again… I miss loving you, being with you. I know with circumstances now it won’t be easy but my love for you has never died.”

You try with everything in you to look away from him, but it’s impossible. A flood of emotions crashes over you—longing, guilt, desperation. You’ve been waiting for this moment, losing sleep over it night after night. And now, here he is. Yet, the shame is overwhelming, weighing down every part of you, twisting your desire into something you can barely face.

“Sweetheart.. please.. look at me” He gently turns your face toward him, his touch soft but his gaze intense, more so than ever before. Your faces are so close now, and you can’t help but let your eyes flicker between his and his lips. Desire floods through you, but you’re torn. You *want* this—crave it, even—but deep down, you know you don’t deserve it. Not after everything.

“I’ve missed you so much. Being apart from you has been hell.”

Your gaze softens at his words yet your inner turmoil has become your worst enemy. “I’ve missed you too.. but I’ve betrayed you Kuai.. and I don’t deserve forgiveness..”

“Be that as it may..." *Kuai’s voice is firm but still carrying that softness you’ve always known.* "I believe in forgiveness, especially when it’s you. What matters now is what we choose to do from here. Are you ready to accept us, to try again? To build something stronger... together?” 

You stay silent after he speaks, the conflict inside you twisting tighter. You avoid his eyes, looking anywhere but at him, but it’s useless. His hand gently caresses your cheek, drawing you in. Slowly, the space between you fades, the tension thickening as you both move closer, your noses almost brushing. Your gazes lock, and in that moment, it’s impossible to ignore the mix of desire and love simmering between you.

“Kuai..” Is the only word that slips from your lips. You feel your heart beat increase and you hope and pray he doesn’t hear it..

“Please…” is all he says in return. And you can’t help but wonder what he’s pleading.

“Please let me kiss you..”

Your heart skips a beat at his words, but you know the consequences of this endeavor if Bihan were to find out. “We cant..” You say in a slight whisper, trying to mask the desire in your voice.

“I know… but I’m finding it hard to resist. My heart yearns for you my love. I’ve missed you”

You let out a sigh with a mixture of frustration and lust. You know you want him. You’ve craved this moment for so long, you have the love of your life back. But you cant help but feel like this is a dream.

“I’m willing to live with the consequences sweetheart, let my brother find out. As long as I have you, my will to fight will always be great. Sweetheart.. I need you..”

You can't help but sigh once again, feeling his breath fan over your face. You are struggling to give in, and you find your hand placed on his leg as you give it an involuntary squeeze.

Kuai hisses at your action, pressing his forehead against yours; he closes his eyes in frustration. “You're making it very hard for me to hold back.. please.. please.. let me taste you”

His pleading whispers to you send a shiver down your spine. You are still feeling conflicted. It’s very clear what you want and deep down you dont know what’s stopping you from getting it. You rise from your bed in frustration immediately puling yourself out of this situation and start to pace. Kuai is caught off guard by your sudden movement, he gaze towards you as your standing is still a mixture of lust and frustration with now a hint of confusion. “Wait! Where are you going?” his voice now filled with concern as if he’s done something wrong.

“Fuck it” is all you can say before you turn around and pull him in. Your lips pressed against his, the kiss filled with hunger and need.

He pulls you in closer, is muscular arms wrapping tightly around your body, holding you possessively against him as your mouths mold together in such a passionate kiss. You cup his face, internally you wish for him to not pull away. Your steps make your way back to the foot of the bed. Your hands on Kuai’s face feel like a lifeline for him, anchoring him to this moment. The love you two have once shared evidently present in this moment, you two have missed this, you’ve yearned for it for so long and the moment is finally here. As your steps take you back to the bed, he pushes you gently against the footboard, pressing his body against yours, needing to feel every inch of you. The kiss deepens and his hands slowly begin to wander over your body.

Your back slowly falls onto the bed and your legs voluntarily wrap around his waist. Kuai Liang’s body begins to hover over you, body pressed against you, intertwined in a perfect and desperate embrace. His lips move from yours and make their way to your jawline, then down to your neck, leaving a trail of heated kisses where he can feel your pulse throbbing wildly. He pulls away for a moment and you whimper at the loss of contact, he presses his forehead against yours and looks you deep into your eyes, his voice rough and ragged, being consumed by the intensity of this moment. 

“Fuck I’ve missed you sweet girl”

His words send a jolt through your body as you involuntarily grind upwards into him.. Your voice soft and whiny, “I’ve missed you most”

You pull at the hem of his Shirai Ryu uniform wishing for more contact than you two currently have. Knowing your desires, Kuai leans back, giving you space to lift the top of his uniform over his head and toss it aside, his bare chest now exposed to your gaze. In doing so, you reciprocate the action and take off the top of your clothing. You feel his eyes roam over your bare skin, taking in every inch of you, scanning over your collarbone, your chest, your stomach, he’s taking in everything.. like an animal eyeing his prey. He reaches out, his fingertips caressing your curves ever so slightly. His voice low, filled with tenderness and adoration… “You’re so beautiful… every part of you… may I?”

You feel your breath quicken as he touches you and it makes you yearn for him so much more. “Yes.. im yours..” You pull him in for another needy kiss. Your breathless words and the way you pulled him in ignites a primal hunger within him. His hands roam over your bare skin as he presses himself against you. It has been so long since you two have had a moment like this that he is at a loss for words.. “I- I need you..”

“You have me”

Hearing those words unleashed the last bit of restraint he had, claiming your mouth once more in a demanding kiss. His rough calloused hands grab a hold of your hips and presses you into the mattress. He leaves tender kisses over your bare skin, slowly making his way down, you feel your breath quicken once more until he reaches to the waist band of your pants. He looks up at you with desire and you give him a nod. With full permission, he undresses the lower half of your body and he can’t help but let out a low grown at the sight. He stares at your pussy in awe and see how its glistening in your arousal already.. he hasn’t even touched you yet..

“Gods..” He leans his head down on the mattress, trying to keep his composure but you feel yourself writhing from underneath him. “Kuai… please..” You reach towards his head as you wish to push him closer to your heat. 

“Patience sweet girl… needy are we?”

“I need you please.. I need your tongue..”

“Oh darling.. I’m going to take my time with you..”

Kuai presses a tantalizing lick against your folds as you let out a low moan. Your legs could help but close but Kuais hands pry you open once more and keep you pinned.. “no hiding now sweetheart.. just sit back and enjoy..”

Your finger run through his dark hair and you give a tug as he pressed another lick against you and makes his way down to your hole. The tug sends a chill down his spine as he moans at the pain of your pull, radiating in between your legs. The sounds you make are music to his ears and he wishes to pulll every ounce of sound out of you. He presses kisses to your inner thighs and nibbles at each side before diving right back into you. He slowly licks up to your clit and takes it in his mouth gently as twirls his tongue around you. Your back arches at the action and your grip on his hair tightens and Kuai groans once more. 

“Fuck..” Is all you can say. The pleasure is too great and you feel it building up. Your core begins to tighten at his continuous actions. He recognizes your bodily reactions all too well, he knows youre close, however he doesn’t wish for this moment to be over yet.

“Baby.. please” you plead. Your voice filled with desperation. “I’m gonna-“

He stops

The loss of the build up has you in shambles. You plead and look down as to why he stopped, and you see a slight smirk on his face, as his chin is glistening in your juices. he rises back up to your face, “Did you really think it was going to be that easy sweetheart? I told you, I’m taking my sweet time with you” he presses a kiss against your open lips tongue swirling around yours as your taste yourself on his tongue. He makes his way back down in between your legs and stares at you. “Be a good girl for me yeah?” Not knowing what he has planned, you nod regardless, biting your lip to suppress a moan.

He repeats his actions once more, lapping at your juices, his nose rubs against your clit in the right spot and it causes a high pitched moan to escape your lips. Kuai smiles at what he hears as he continues licking at your folds. He takes two fingers and inserts them inside of you. Surprised by the sudden insertion, you pull at Kuai’s hair in pleasure with one hand and you are grasping your bed sheets with another. “Fuck!” You feel his fingers pumping in and out of you as he continues abusing your clit. His pace quickens and he feels the same buildup in your body once more, you tightening around his fingers, almost consuming them involuntarily, the pleasure is too much for you to handle. “I’m gonna-“

“Do it sweetheart, let me taste you fully, you can let go”

You feel yourself reach your climax and you let goes completely, your body almost trembles and shakes as he makes you cum hard into his mouth. Taking in everything that you leave behind. He rises from in between your legs as he stares at your disheveled state and gently caresses your face. “You're not done yet love.. brace yourself” Kuai presses a tender kiss to your lips and your forehead. You smile at his action as you watch him undo his pants, letting his dick free, already dripping with precum. It really was a sight for you. Oh how you missed him…

He slowly aligned himself to your entrance, pushes in achingly slow earning moans escaping from both of your lips. “Fuck..” Kuai groans underneath his breath. You hiss as he stretches you in such a familiar way. He places one of his hands on your cheek as his arm keeps him afloat as he hovers over you. His movements are slow, wanting to drag this out as long as possible as he takes your lips in for another passionate kiss. “I love you..” He whispers between each slow thrust. you moan at his movements and you reciprocate his loving words, “I love you too Kuai..” 

His smallest movements cause your walls to tense around him. With each rock, his breathing deepens and his pants become more desperate but he holds out a little bit longer. You bring your hands to his back as you bring his upper half closer to you, you dig his nails in his back “faster please..”

His self composure slowly crumbling, his pace starts to pick up his eyes locked onto yours, he removes his hand from your face and presses it down on your lower stomach, knowing it feels good for you.

“Talk to me baby.. how does it feel..?” he knows the answer to that, he knows your body like the back of his hand already. He just wishes to hear your voice.

“Perfect..” Your words make his pace alot faster than before. Needy pants escape both of your lips, noises of arousal fill your bedroom. He starts pounding into you, the pace becoming unmatched. Kuai feels his own climax unravelling and his voice starts to become filled with need. “Im so close…”

As Kuai keeps his fast pace, he starts to increase the power behind each thrust literally fucking you senseless. No words escape your lips, just your jaw slacked open, the pleasure becoming too much to handle. It’s becoming too much to handle for him too, Kuai begins to whimper in his own pleasure as you both finally reach your climax. Kuai cums hard into you as you cum as well, your juices all over his dick as his seed spews in your insides. The pressure in both of your nerves finally releases. He pulls out of you and falls next to you. You both lay there for a while, completely fucked out of your minds. As youre catching your breaths, you look down suddenly and see Kuai’s cum leaking out of you and onto your bedsheets. You look back up and stare at him next to you, and you laugh in contentment as you wrap your arms around him. Kuai slightly moans at your sudden touch before he turns to face you and wrap his arms around you. Pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You both hum in relief and contentment as you both fall asleep, completely enveloped in each other’s presence, as if the rest of the world has faded away. You prayed for his return every night, despite the nagging doubt of whether you truly deserved his affection. You missed him so deeply, longing for the days when you were together, wishing for nothing more than to have him back in your life. And now he’s here, in your room and completely engulfed by his presence. And you wish for nothing more.

The morning hits, sunlight filtering through your window, gently stirring Kuai awake from his sleep. He wakes up slowly, arms still wrapped around you. He takes in the sight of you sleeping and a wave of contentment washes over him. He brushes a strand of hair away from your face, a soft smile paying at the corners of his mouth. He notices the peaceful expression on your face as you begin to stir in your sleep. For the first time since the incident, you have slept with no nightmares; he notices a sense of serenity as you sleep and it fills him with so much relief. He continues to watch you before gently rubbing his fingers against your arm in a soothing affectionate gesture.

You sleepily moan at his touch and push yourself further into his embrace. Your sounds make Kuai’s heart skip a beat as he continues to rub your arm. As you stir awake, your back facing his chest, you let out a sleepy satisfied hum as he presses his lips towards the back of your neck and nuzzles his face into your hair, breathing n your scent and savoring the feeling of your body pressed against his. You feel his fingers tracing soothing patterns against your skin; you sleepily take his hand and place it to your lips as you press kisses from his palm to his fingertips. You actions make his heart swell with love, admiring the affectionate gesture. He lets out a soft sigh, hand gently cupping your face and whispering in your ear..

“Gods you're incredible”

You let out a sleepy giggle at his words, wishing you could stay in this moment forever. It feels like a dream come true, a piece of fate finally falling into place. The love you both share has never faded, and it’s as if none of the betrayal, none of the pain ever happened. In this moment, there is only the two of you—untouched by the past, as if you’d never chosen Bi-Han’s side, as if the love in your hearts had never left.

[lunaatthezoo]

Introducing: What None Saw

Update: Chapter 1 (Cloudberries) is posted!

As I'm finished writing and now just in the editing stage of the final chapters of She'll Wait No Longer, I have begun work on its prologue: What None Saw. This will be a dual-POV mostly canon-compliant multi-chapter Elriel fic leading up to ACOSF Solstice. I wanted to explore interactions with them that we didn't get to see in the first four books, and I've been having so much fun writing it. It's unfortunately not smutty, but a whole lot of mutual pining, angst, and fluff. We're talking a WHOLE lot of soooooooft Azriel and blushing Elain. Preview below ;)

🎨: padawan.carol, commissioned by stephdaydreams

“Another question?” Azriel asked her, as if he could sense that void still pulling on her. Elain nodded again.

Azriel considered for a few moments.

“What did you dream of becoming, when you were a child?”

Elain blinked. She gazed down into her tea again. 

“I don’t know,” she answered truthfully. “When my mother was still alive, she expected me to marry and unburden the family of my care, I suppose. Or perhaps bring them further fortune. I was only ever encouraged to think, act, and look like a highborn lady. I played the pianoforte, I learned to read and write with my tutors, and I attended society events. I was never told I could be anything other than a wife and mother.” 

A pang of guilt swept through Elain at the thought that Feyre did not get that chance to learn to read and write, and that she and Nesta had done nothing to teach her. 

Azriel only watched her, impassive, so she continued. 

“When we lost our fortune, I had no time to dream. I became quite skilled with sewing, as we could not often afford new clothes and ours always needed repairs. I gardened seldomly, only when I could afford seeds and had the time to. I helped keep our cottage in working repair and cooked in my father’s stead, because he was injured. The only thing I ever allowed myself to dream about was falling in love and marrying. Partially because it was something I desired, but also because it was a way out.”

Elain had never admitted any of this to another before, and she didn’t know why she did now.

But Azriel just listened, so quietly and thoughtfully, and the words falling from her felt like…a relief. A grounding. He listened to her without judgment or concern, only honest curiosity.

“What did you dream of becoming as a boy?” She asked him.

Azriel kept his cool, collected mask on his face, even as Elain swore she saw something flicker through his eyes.

“I had no dreams as a child.” 

Shame flooded Elain at what an insensitive question it was. Azriel had just told her he was locked in a dungeon for eleven years. Of course he wasn't thinking about becoming a warrior or a courtier or an artist. He was just trying to survive. 

Azriel must have seen the guilt on her face because he considered. 

“I suppose I dreamed of freedom.” 

Elain let out a breath. 

“As did I,” she answered. 

Their gazes locked and they simply stared at each other for long moments. 

“What is your favorite dessert?” Azriel asked her. Elain felt the smallest semblance of a smile tug at her mouth. 

“Do you enjoy sweet things, Azriel?” She asked him, surprised once again by his question. She couldn't imagine the warrior eating a slice of chocolate cake or lemon tart. 

Azriel grinned a bit, too. “I do enjoy sweet things, Elain,” he answered, holding her gaze with intensity. 

And despite everything, despite her doomed engagement and the unfolding war and her stolen life and her daunting mating bond, Elain felt a blush kiss her cheeks. 

She looked down, feeling bashful. 

“Strawberry shortcake,” she told him. 

Azriel grinned a bit broader at that. 

“Strawberry shortcake,” he repeated, nodding thoughtfully. “I have never had that.”

“Really?” Elain asked. “Is it not eaten here?”

Azriel shook his head. “No, I have never heard of it.” After a few seconds he added, “Perhaps I can try it one day with you.” 

Elain fought a blush once more.

“And you?” She asked, curious now. 

Azriel leaned back, considering. 

“Honey biscuits.” 

And despite herself yet again, Elain swallowed a laugh. Azriel raised a brow at her reaction, which made a true giggle escape her lips. 

“I'm sorry,” Elain laughed. 

Azriel's mouth twitched at her amusement. “What is it?” He asked her.

“It’s just,” she chuckled. “Honey biscuits are rather a…a youngling snack, are they not? A snack for a hungry toddler stomping his feet?”

Azriel chuckled a bit himself then, smiling truly. Shadows flitted around his head as if in response to his laughter.

"Yes," he answered, leaning back and crossing his arms. "I suppose they are."

Elain giggled once more. She imagined Azriel munching on honey biscuits in a secret Spymaster lair and laughed harder still.

"But can you deny their perfection?" Azriel asked her with an amused smile.

"No," Elain answered, shaking her head with a smile. "No, I cannot."

Azriel's smile seemed to falter as he gazed at Elain's face.

"That's the first time I've heard your laugh," he noted.

[hl-obsessed]

Snippet

from my fic for @1dalphalouisfest

[it's not checked and contains mentions of violence]

***

"But then suddenly Louis stops and doesn't follow anymore. Zayn hears when they lose his steps behind them.

He smoothly passes Harry to Niall and turns back to look at Louis.

"What wrong?"

His eyes go over Louis, looking for any signs of physical hurt. He doesn't find any and focuses back on listening to their surroundings. There're just birds and wind, and no other steps behind them.

"Louis, what's wrong?"

Louis just shakes his head, he doesn't even looks up.

"You should go. Take Harry and hide him. Get the fuck away from here."

Zayn doesn't believe the words he's hearing. Louis for sure doesn't mean what Zayn thinks he do. Not after everything that just happened, what they have went through.

"What the fuck are you saying?"

"They not gonna focus on Harry if i'll be here."

Zayn laughs, sharp and bitterly. They're all tired, all high on adrenaline and all they tried to do for the last twenty-four hours was to find a way out of here, and now Louis wants to stay back?

"You lost your mind if you think I'll ever leave you here alone."

Finally Louis looks back at him. He's eyes round and big and pleading.

"Zayn," he tries, like he's trying to make him understand whatever fucked up reason he came up with to justify that idea, like he's trying to say 'you know that's the only way.' All Zayn knows that this is the only way they cannot take.

"Don't Zayn me, now. I've seen what they did to you," he tries to keep his composure, but he finches anyway remembering what they have went through before. Memories of pain flash in Louis mind, and he can see them mirrored in Zayn's eyes. Broken ribs and nose, mouth full of blood. He couldn't breath. It was Zayn who get him out, who dragged him half conscious through the woods for hours before they could find any help. "I'll be damed if I ever allow that again. You're coming with us."

Zayn gaze is hard and unyielding. Louis knows physical violence isn't Zayn's way of doing things, not unless there are other options, but right now he looks like he's ready to knock Louis up and drag his ass forcefully with them if he doesn't stop being stubborn and stupid.

"Get your ass on the truck, Tommo." Liam chips in. "Don't make me throw you over my shoulder."

Louis doesn't know how much Liam knows, how much Zayn have told him. But looking into his eyes, his always happy, brown, sparkling, puppy eyes, so dimmed and sad now, he thinks that Liam knows enough.

"You don't understand," Louis tries again. "I'm not playing martyr, I wouldn't. I'm trying to do this for Harry. To protect him."

"Only thing you need to do right now is to be with him. You can't protect him being away, not now. He needs you."

"But he's never gonna be-"

"Stop fighting with him, for fuck sake."

New voice joining the conversation startle both Louis and Zayn almost shirtless.

"Oli," Louis sighs relieved seeing his old friend, but then whimpers phateticaly when Oli smacks him in the head. "Ow, what was that for?"

"For being stupid, that's what for. Zayn's fucking right and you know that. Don't let your guilt cloud you judgment."

Grateful nod from Zayn is as loud applause as Oli can get. They never really got on well. Always silently fighting for place beside Louis.

"You have to go, all of you," Oli continues. "Troy's gonna flip out when he finds out. It's not safe for any of you to stay behind. I'll try to buy you some time." (...)

"Go to the elder. She'll help you."

Oli nods sharp, quick.

"Don't worry about me, I know my way around. But you - you be safe."

Louis take a few steps back, pulls Oli in tight hug.

"Thank you."

Oli holds him back, but only for second.

"Go, go. And don't look back. Never look back."

***

gonna share part 2 soon - Harry talking with Zayn

[daisyjonesgf]

Can you delve deeper into what happened after Billy asked muse to join him and the groupie?

ofc ofc pookie

I imagine afterward muse would go straight to Daisy and she's pissed and crying, and Daisy's like, "Woah, woah, chickadee, what happened?"

"I fucking hate him, Daisy, I hate him!" And you're sitting on Daisy's couch, head on her shoulder, crying.

"What'd he do now?" And there's not an ounce of judgment in her voice for you going through these feelings again.

But you're just sobbing, there's an urge to throw things, but you don't even know what to throw, and you say nothing for a while. "Why do I love him, Daisy? Why can't I just leave?"

"You can, I'm not saying it's easy, but if you got up and walked out the door, for real. You could be someone besides just Billy Dunne's."

"But that's the problem, Daisy, that's not what I want! But, I can't go on like this anymore, I don't know how much more of it I can take before I don't even know what comes after. He's so fucking lost, and he need someone or something, Daisy, and I can't do whatever that is for him. It just gets worse."

"When we have our break, go somewhere with me. We'll travel, see the world, you don't have to walk away, just take a step out of the box."

"Where?"

"I don't know! France? India? Italy? Greece? Let's go to Greece, together, and just spend a few weeks not being consumed by Billy fucking Dunne, okay?"

"Okay!"

And you don't know how long you've been at Daisy's, just drinking, playing record after record, talking, laughing, doing lines when there's a knock at the door and you go to get it because Daisy is laying on the ground, staring at the ceiling. And of course it's that same Billy fucking Dunne at the door.

"What do you want?"

"Can we just talk? Please?" And you stare at him for a second, then back inside, trying to fight the debate within yourself before giving in with a sigh and closing the door behind you.

"60 seconds, go."

Billy just stares for a second like you've got him off guard but you just tap at the imaginary watch on your wrist, tounge clicking. "Look, I'm- I'm sorry, okay. I know I keep fucking up, that I'm fucked up, and don't deserve any of this, you. But I just, I can do better, that's what we've always done, isn't it? Gotten better? I don't even know what's going on in my head anymore, but you are the constant. You see me, and I see you, and please." You want to weaken because not only has he said the magic word of 'sorry ' but it looks like he might actually cry. He's pushed you too far for your resolve to be that weak though.

"Billy, I'm not gonna do this push and pull of you seeing how far you can take it before it breaks because you like to try and play god or some shit. You want a breaking point? This is it, you can't push it any further without it all fucking falling apart. And do you think I fucking want that? God, Billy, I'm the one who let you get away with pushing it every single time just so I wouldn't have to actually deal with the problem and I could just have you."

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah." You're taking a deep breath, wishing you'd brought a cigarette out with you, "When the band gets its break, I'm goin with Daisy for a few weeks. And when I'm gone, I don't want to hear from you during that time."

"With Daisy? That's not safe-"

"Your time to speak is up! It's not any fucking safer with you, Billy. All I fucking do is worry, and cry, and drink, and wait for your mood to change. I can't even fucking look at you right now Billy, that's how bad it is, you should be fucking grateful for this, for Daisy. Because not only is she saving the whole goddamn band, but just a few weeks and I might be able to fucking stand you agian." And you're turning back inside the house and look back right before you open the door, "All I've ever done is love you, Billy, what the hell did I do to deserve this?" And you're back inside the house, door slamming behind you, telling Daisy it was nothing.

And when you finally do see Billy again, it's a quiet reunion, the type where your foreheads are pressed together, and tears are involved, and just being held. Just a silent promise of no matter how bad it gets, it's never gonna get that bad again.

Although we all know regardless muse does hit her eventual breaking point of the ultimatum still

[zipzapzopzoop]

There's a Great Big Beautiful Tomorrow

Chapter 36: One Brother Short

A soft knock sounded on the door before it clicked open. Bud stepped in, a plate of apple slices and honey in hand.

“Franny? I brought your favorite. How are you feeling?” He paused upon hearing the gentle sound of laughter.

Across the room Franny stood silently, her back towards the old man. In front of her sat the Memory Scanner, softly playing a memory from only a few weeks prior…

It had been a long day, and she was feeling pretty drained. A good song had come on the radio, and Cornelius began to dance playfully. He was being goofy and singing off key, and Franny couldn’t help but laugh at his antics. Upon seeing her smile, he wore a big grin. 

“There’s my beautiful wife,” he teased and gently took her hands. They began to dance around the kitchen, laughing and swinging and playing and forgetting about everything else in the world. Nothing else mattered.

The scanner’s screen faded out as the memory came to an end, and a tear slipped down Franny’s face. Then another. And another. Her shoulders hitched and she began to sob quietly to herself.

“Oh dear,” Bud sat the plate aside and set a comforting hand on her shoulder. 

“I’m so worried about him,” Franny sobbed. “And now my brother’s gone, and I don’t know what to do-” 

“Woah, easy, easy… Sometimes my brother’s worries get the better of him. And when that happens, he takes a deep breath and tells himself ‘One thing at a time.’”

Franny sniffled and wiped away a tear. “I… don’t understand.”

Bud handed her a box of tissues. “In other words, if you take on all your thoughts at once, you’ll end up overwhelmed. Focus on right now. You’ve got your son safe. We’ve already gathered a great deal of the family. And we at least know what to look for. I mean, where are they going to hide a dinosaur? Underground?” He chuckled.

“Now, I may be an old man, and my brain’s long since become scrambled, but I’ve never lost my good judgment of character. Gaston, I’ve seen that man take on more explosions than a fireworks show on a minefield. He’s as tough as nails. And Cornelius… from the moment I first met him at that science fair, I knew he had a spark in him. He was smart as they come and clever as a whip! They don’t call him ‘The Father of the Future’ for nothing… He can handle himself. They both can. I know it.”

Franny cleaned away her tears and blew her nose, feeling a bit better. She mulled over the words and thought for a moment. She took on another look of concern suddenly. 

“What about Lucille? Will she be okay?”

Bud’s face fell a bit, but he seemed to pick back up. “Oh, she’s the strongest person in the entire world. She’ll pull through…”

Franny didn’t miss the worry behind his smile.

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

“How could this happen?!”

Carl flinched away when the chair was thrown against the wall, smashing it to bits.

The spaceman ran a gloved hand through his hair, huffing with anger. He growled and threw another piece of furniture across the room. Carl always knew Art as one of the kindest and patient people he’s ever met. He’s never seen him so angry.

Buster whined and ducked out of the room with his tail between his legs. Lefty meanwhile continued dusting, seemingly unbothered. Even after Art picked up and threw a stool he was dusting, the octopus just blinked and moved to dust the next item.

“I need to go for a walk. Please excuse me,” Art growled, storming out and slamming the door shut behind him.

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

Wilbur sat silently in the hall, just out of sight.

His hands trembled as he listened to his uncle tear that room apart. He hiccuped slightly, trying to keep himself from crying.`

‘No! Wilbur Robinson doesn’t cry!’ he scolded himself internally.

He knew he was already crying. There was no point.

He’d really gone and done it this time.

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

Check out the chapter on my Archive!

[skarsgazing]

Obsidian - Chapter 1

In the dimly lit corridor, as her footsteps echoed through the walls, Mia contemplated the distance growing between her and the only life she had ever known. It wasn't just a geographical shift; it was a plunge into the unknown, a journey she didn't choose.

“You’re late,” a gray haired woman blasted as the door swung open, her eyes scrutinizing Mia from head to toe with an air of judgment. 

“Sorry, I couldn’t find a ta-" Mia started, only to have a pile of clothes thrown at her, landing on her and cascading to the floor. “The hell?!”

“On set in 4 minutes. Third-floor room 7. Pick that up and bring the samples,” the older woman declared coldly before grabbing something and exiting the room.

Mia Hastings never quite fit the mold her family crafted for her. She wasn't easily defined, but it was clear what she wasn't: submissive and pliable. With flushed cheeks and a racing heart, she bit her lip while gathering the clothes strewn across the floor. 

“Bitch,” she whispered, mentally adding Miranda to her growing grudge list.

Ten minutes behind schedule, Mia reluctantly reached room 7, encountering Miranda once again and receiving the same disapproving glare.

“Late again, Amelia,” she snapped, guiding Mia back into the hallway almost aggressively. 

“I actually prefer Mia-”.

“Listen, I don't care about who you are or if you're here just to play around,” she gestured almost comically with her hands. “I have very strict orders from your father, you hear? Fuck this up and he will hear about it,” she warned before re-entering the room without a second glance.

Mia felt dizzy, she had this very real and urgent need to punch this woman so hard that it would create a time-space discontinuity. So she ran her fingers through her hair and took a deep breath before entering the room again, not without mentally cursing out her father at least a hundred times.

The moment Mia reentered room 7, chaos immediately seized her attention. She hadn't had a chance to process or inspect anything on her previous entrance, but now her eyes widened as the absence of yelling allowed her to fully absorb the bustling scene. Swarms of people were engrossed in various tasks related to set and costume design. Fabric, threads, samples, and mannequins were scattered throughout the space. Some were drawing, others were busy on computers, and a vibrant array of colors, designs, and concepts adorned almost every inch of the NY warehouse.

“You look like a lost puppy,” a voice remarked. Mia turned around to find a curly dark-haired young man with piercing green eyes, well-built and casually dressed in black jeans and a black shirt—seemingly the norm around here. Mia, in her fitted jeans, one-shoulder white shirt, and stilettos, clearly hadn't received the memo. 

“If you weren’t buried in that pile of clothes you’re carrying, I would’ve thought you were talent,” he joked, widening his eyes for emphasis.

“Zak,” he introduced himself, extending a warm hand to Mia, who reciprocated with a smile and a firm handshake.

“Mia,” she replied.

“Oh, I know. You’re here from Rust, no?” Zak continued, starting to walk while tilting his head to indicate Mia to follow along.

An almost nauseating feeling surged from Mia’s stomach to her head upon hearing her father’s fashion brand mentioned. “Old piece of shit,” she thought and simply nodded at Zak.

She followed the British young man through the bustling room, skillfully navigating around the numerous people passing by. Amidst the crowd, Mia spotted the now-familiar gray head of hair belonging to Miranda in a more secluded area, engaged in conversation with two others. 

Next to her, positioned on a podium in front of a tall mirror like a well-deserved trophy, stood a deliciously built dirty-blonde-haired man. All Mia could make out was his back—feet wide apart, as if unafraid to claim all the space in the world. He exuded a devilish height, seeming firmly rooted to the earth, and Mia resisted the urge to keep looking.

Mia felt a pair of hands gently squeezing her shoulders, and she realized she had been standing dumbfounded for longer than she’d like to admit, or would’ve preferred anyone to notice. Zak gave her a final squeeze before moving in front of her.

“Hem work, doll. You can help me with that,” he winked, taking the pile of clothes from her and strolling towards the other side of the room.

“H-O-T,” he silently mouthed, gesturing towards the tall man. Mia chuckled, a subtle gleam of light flashing through her eyes as she walked toward the podium after grabbing a bag of pins from the nearby work-station.

Her knees touched the ground before she could get a good look at the man in front of her, and her brows furrowed when she noticed that those pants really needed some work. With a pin in her hand, she carefully grabbed the remaining fabric and started folding it to estimate how much should be removed before even thinking about folding back and sewing down. She jumped a little when her pinky finger made contact with the bare skin of the man's ankle, accidentally poking him with the sharp pin.

Alexander gazed coolly down at her, offering a reassuring smile. Never in her entire life had Mia seen such a handsome man, and she had encountered her fair share of attractive people.

Collecting herself, Mia apologized, the obvious size difference making her blush even as she knelt. She looked up what felt like at least a whole four and a half feet to meet his gaze, smiling.

Picking up on the color in her cheeks, Alexander's eyes trailed over her features as she maintained eye contact. Her small frame starkly contrasted with Alexander’s massive size. Her hair, intentionally frenzied, framed the sides of her head and cascaded down her back to her waist with no particular order. Her tight clothes allowed him to paint a vivid mental image of her body. This little sweetheart was the last thing he expected to find when he looked down, and to say he was intrigued would be an understatement.

“Sorry, it’s my first day,” Mia lied -about the reason for her nervousness-. 

“Don’t worry, It’s my first day here as well,” Alexander joked, his gaze intent on her. 

She licked her lips, seemingly contemplating a response, and he felt his pants tighten a little. 

“Good fit?” Miranda interrupted. 

“Yeah, just a few adjustments, I think,” Alexander replied, his eyes still on Mia even as Miranda spoke to him. 

“Sorry again,” Mia apologetically smiled before taking a double take up at him, noticing a slight curl to his lips. It was so subtle that she wasn’t sure if it was just her eyes playing tricks on her. She resumed working on the hem, carefully folding and pinning it on the soft fabric. While Alexander conversed with Zak and Miranda, his voice resonated in Mia's ears, sounding soft yet deep, as if emanating from the depths of his chest.

However, Mia's tranquil moment was interrupted by the irritating sound of her full name. She looked up, more of a glare, and let out a big sigh as she rested her hands on her thighs, awaiting further instructions. Alexander couldn't help but notice Mia's fingers twitching on her lap as he observed her staring at the older woman, as if she were trying to contain herself. The subtle rhythm of her tapping fingers implicitly conveyed a growing frustration.

Miranda continued, motioning toward a pile of fabric samples that could easily be mistaken for a thousand little squares. "Zak will handle that. I want you to organize those, by fabric."

Mia shot a side-eye at Zak, who offered an apologetic smile, clearly finding the request ridiculous. Alexander's brows furrowed slightly, and then he raised them humorously as he noticed Mia's stilettos while she stood up -unusual. The air seemed to grow colder as she walked away, at least according to his perception.

For what felt like at least five hours, Mia found herself in another corner of the warehouse, meticulously touching, tagging, and organizing each small square of fabric. She attached them to a book, repeating the process over and over. The act of ordering brought her a sense of calm, much like cleaning and counting—a compulsion ingrained in her for as long as she could recall. Perhaps it was a coping mechanism, a small realm of control in a life that had always been tightly regulated.

While she worked, her thoughts drifted to her life back in Seattle, now seemingly distant. She reflected on the mistakes she had made this time, wondering if she could ever set things right. Despite her contemplation, her cheeks flushed, and her body trembled slightly at the thought of her father. He existed more like a distant planet in her mind, distorting everything around it with its own gravitational pull, rather than as a person.

As if summoned by her thoughts, the screen of Mia's phone lit up, displaying a message from him.

"Been trying to call in, pick up. Don't forget who's looking out for you."

Her attention shifted as footsteps approached from behind, and she turned just as the lights started going out, producing a loud noise. Zak's figure emerged, casting shadows as he walked toward her.

"So tell me, little heiress, what did you do to awaken Miranda’s wrath?" Zak inquired, his voice echoing. Mia's eyes adjusted to the dimming light and she noticed there were only a few people left in the warehouse. "It was like the third Reich over there," he joked, grinning.

Mia chuckled, gradually picking up on Zak's relaxed demeanor. She felt her shoulders loosen, realizing she had been holding back a significant amount of tension.

"It’s complicated. I made a very powerful person really mad," she confessed, leaning in towards Zak as if sharing a secret. Zak mirrored her posture, leaning in with his elbows on the table and head resting on his hands, his eyes filled with curiosity.

"Who?" he asked.

"My father," Mia replied with a slight smirk.

"Ah! I need to hear all the gory details," Zak exclaimed, straightening up and almost jumping from excitement. "But over some drinks, doll. The rest of the crew is going out cause, obviously." He shrugged, as if it were a given. "And you say?"

"Yes," Mia smiled, a surge of excitement coursing through her body after what felt like an eternity.

Mia's smooth skin caught and reflected the neon lights as she navigated through the bustling nightclub, her hand tightly intertwined with Zak's, who once again guided her through the crowd. He had enthusiastically spoken about this being the best nightclub in the city, shared plans of showing her around New York, and expressed his desire to fuck a guy named Jeremy – in that particular order.

His laughter resonated over the loud music as he conversed with the bartender. Four different types of alcohol were placed on the marble bar for them to enjoy. By Mia's third Tequila shot, her mood had significantly lightened, and she found herself giggling with Zak and a few other crew members.

“Look at him” Zak pointed, referring to some guy at the dance floor. “I need him on a fucking plate.” He chugged the rest of his glass and continued. “We could totally have a foursome, you, me, Jeremy, and our beloved superstar who you were eye-fucking earlier.” Mia almost choked on her drink, realizing Zak had picked up on her not-so-implicit attraction.

“Who is he, anyway? He looks familiar.” She asked, head tilting slightly to the side, her lips cold from the ice on her drink.

"Alexander Skarsgard," Zak revealed, and Mia hung onto every word, it sounded as if the world's oldest secret had just been revealed to her like a divine prophecy. “Actor, model, pathological singleton.” he continued. 

She hummed, emptying her cup, urgently needing another. Zak took no time in following her by emptying his glass as well and signaling the bartender for another round, his every move seemed so natural and casual, like if he just strolled through life without a care in the world.

"I got this one," Mia said, pulling out her wallet.

"No way—" Zak started, pushing her hand away.

"Yeah, it's the least I can do," Mia winked, a warm tingle buzzing through her head. 

Her fingers skillfully pressed the card terminal keys, but an unexpected outcome unfolded.

“It declined.” The slim bartender pointed, apologetic. “Do you have another one?”

Mia almost took a step back as if she had been slapped through the face. 

“It - it doesn’t- it doesn’t have a limit. It can’t decline.” She stuttered and began taking out the repertoire of cards she had in her wallet. Declined, declined, declined, declined.

Zak, finding the situation amusing, stepped in to help just as another guy offered to cover the bill. Mia, reacting to his presence, turned to see a tall man in a black shirt and classic blue jeans. He insisted on paying for Mia's drinks, heavily complimenting her as he did. Mia thanked him, and Zak, after emptying his glass, got lost in another conversation.

"Do you want to dance?" the stranger asked, pointing to the dance floor. Mia nodded, feeling a tingling sensation throughout her body, possibly caused by the alcohol. Maybe this was the break she needed—some good-old physical contact to ease the storm in her head.

He wasted no time, placing his hand firmly on Mia’s lower back, guiding her until they stood facing each other, moving to the rhythm. Her eyes, framed by long lashes, looked at him, subtly enticing. She rested her hands on his shoulders while he ran his own through her waist and the exposed skin on her upper back.

As the song progressed, Mia closed her eyes, turning around and moving softly with her back leaning into the man’s chest. His hands took the opportunity to travel through her abdomen. For a moment, or perhaps longer than a moment, behind her closed eyelids flashed images of Alexander. Her body tingled as she imagined his deep gaze, wondering if his hands were warm, how they would feel on her, whether he would be gentle or firm as he touched her, and how his long fingers would trace the skin of her body.

However, as with all things too good to be true, her phone vibrated almost violently, abruptly pulling her from her fantasies.

"Sorry," she quickly excused herself, leaving the guy half-turned on and with an invisible question mark above his head.��

The floor trembled beneath her forceful steps, and the cold New York air hit her as soon as she pushed the emergency door exit to step out.

“You’re a fucking monster,” she said, answering her phone. “What the fuck did you do?”

A silence extended through the phone line, and a shiver traveled through Mia’s body, the familiar feeling of her heart shrinking into her chest.

“Watch very carefully how you speak to me,” a stern voice replied, characterized by a well-used tone, if that made any sense.

“You answer when I call you” he continued. “How are you?”

“How am I? I have no fucking money, and you banished me to one of the most expensive cities in the whole world,” she said, her voice filled with exasperation.

“You have enough money to get by. Just not for your usual spending sprees.”

“All my cards declined less than 20 minutes ago,” she spat, fighting the urge to throw her phone into the wall.

“You’re so fucking irresponsible, Mia,” her father replied.

“Don’t try to lecture me and be a father now, Luke. If I die, it’s gonna be on you,” she said.

“Quit the theatrics. I—”

“They’re not theatrics. You send me to this shitty apartment in New York, make me work for the reincarnation of Mussolini, and then cut off my money?” Mia huffed.

“Grow the fuck up,” she heard him say, just as she hung up on him.

On the other side of town, almost like a direct contrast to Mia’s night, Alexander sat on the balcony of his apartment. His hands were busy holding a thick script, and his eyes moved while his lips softly mouthed words as he read. A glass of whiskey rested on the table in front of him, his mind completely elsewhere. 

He worked out his frustrations by tapping his fingers on the cold paper he held. Despite living in a townhouse in the wealthiest part of Soho, in true Scandinavian fashion, it didn't scream opulence but rather simple and comfortable living.

Little did Mia know, Alexander’s mind was filled with thoughts of her just the same. The little seamstress had stuck to his mind like sticky, sweet honey he couldn't wash off. He wanted to sink his teeth into her, claim her as if feminism never existed, and never let her go.

Slamming the script onto the table, he sat up, taking a deep breath and walking across his home into the master bathroom. Steaming away the ache in his muscles, he mentally went over the past day.

[fountainpenguin]

"I'm trying to keep up as best I can! I wanna be there if you need a hand... I'm looking, looking- Looking for you!" (x)

---

New Criminal Experience chapter today!

Chapter 5 - “Tracked”

❤️ Read on AO3

💙 Start from Chapter 1

💚 More Pixels Imperfect fics

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Mumbo and Skizz split up to find the lost allay eggs, llama respawn blankets, and Impulse. Mumbo takes a good look around Evernight: city of ever-changing blocks.

(First 1,000 words under the cut)

---

One teleport later…

Operation Llama Blanket and Allay Egg Recovery requires stealth, precision, and snap-second judgments on how many of the enderspawn hybrids can be trusted not to turn them in. In a whirlwind of shadow blots, Skizz poofs them in behind a row of composters tucked down an alley of colorful, mismatched blocks. Skizz is in a crouch; Mumbo drops to mirror him. Endermen and endermites shuffle around not far away. Every breath betrays him as a wanted man.

And any one of these chaps could heel-turn out me.

The paths out of the city glow faintly on his mental map, as they always do. Leaving sounds lovely, but not when Double-U and Buzz are missing their spawn blankets. It's not just about his girls, either. The allay eggs are his responsibility.

The last two allay eggs in the world.

So where are they? It's not about the money. It's never been about that, regardless of what his species and experience in smuggling and trading may lead you to believe. He took this job because Doc asked him to. Said he was researching; he'd give the newbies a start on Education and send them to the building when his work was done. Not unusual, and Mumbo trusts Doc more than most.

Does he know? It's the question coursing like a river through his hands, up his shaking arms, and down his back in tiny flash floods. But he can't ask - not here, not now - because Doc still lives so far away. He'll crash when he gets to Tintopia. He is going to reach Tintopia, with his llamas' spawn blankets in hand.

Okay. We can do this. Just breathe.

Mumbo shifts his eyes to Skizz, then remembers why you don't look at endermen directly and drops his gaze. "I'll have a nip around. Thanks for the drop-off. It means the world to me, mate."

The blue eyes peering back at him (carefully, off-center) don't look at all like the eyes of a man who meant to do the Allay Dragon harm. Perhaps it's foolish and maybe he's being played, but Mumbo can't help but believe it. "Without me or Impulse, you've got no escort. I'll see if I can follow from a distance, maybe along the rooftops, but if someone sees me-"

"I know. Skizz, I know what I'm getting into- It's not my first brush with the anarchy lifestyle. If someone attacks me, you don't have to get involved. There's difficult people after you." Neutral. Non-specific. Skizz shifts, tugging his jumper sleeve. Mumbo can read that stinging, shameful silence and almost wishes that he can't. He says, "I won't rat you out, but I'd rather not see you fight." BigB's got his arrows and clones. Vee's an evoker; she's got her vex. They're both spellcasters armed with magic. And Skizz is layered with unknown mods. Both sides of this fight could easily get hurt.

"I… Yeah, sorry. Yeah."

Mumbo reaches a hand through his robes. He grips the handle of his modded scythe - still sitting there in his soul slot, as it always is - and withdraws it in a crackle of blue sparks. Skizz's wings flare out behind his torso, flapping once. They scrape the composters and the back alley wall. Not much of a wall with several blocks plucked out of it, leaving holes, but that's not the point. Mumbo keeps his eye contact locked on the scythe. He doesn't give any sort of demo swipe, though that's quite tempting, actually. Skizz is halfway to flying off as it is. Can he fly with those angel wings?

"I'm all right," he tells Skizz. "I'm Mumbo Killsalot Jumbo; I can handle myself a bit."

"Ah- That's… Uh, you've got a modded weapon?"

"I transported a bit of slime and some otter spawn eggs to a vulture once." That's non-specific enough, yes. Skizz keeps his eyes away, but for the briefest moment, they flicker over. Mumbo can feel them graze his forehead.

"Are you kidding me right now, homie? Otter spawn eggs are real? I thought those were just a myth!"

"Well, you and most of Between, yes."

"So you've found the Invisible Hub?"

At that, Mumbo chuckles and tucks the scythe away again. Bad move, wandering with that on full display. "I said I traded him slime, mate. I never said I've found wherever slimes spawn." Scythe gone, he lays a hand against a composter lid, ready to swing himself to the other side of the little wall. "You find Impulse. He and Coldsnap can't still be going at it." And if they're lucky, Impulse is still alive. There wasn't a death message on the comm. He must be all right, unless Mumbo made a total spoon move and forgot to toggle the settings on. They pause in sync, fingers curling, hearts beating. IS Impulse okay?

Surely he must be. Skizz asks the same question, then, but not about Impulse. "Will you be okay?"

"I haven't got a choice." But he does have a plan.

Step 1: Get the spawn blankets. It might sound harsh, but those rank above the allay eggs as far as he's concerned. Until a new account syncs to an egg, they're effectively unfertilized; they might even get broken in a scuffle tonight and he won't feel any shame. There will be other jobs with other spawn eggs. But there won't be another Buzz and Double-U, sitting sweetly in their shed as he cleans between their toes.

I can do this. Gah, if only I wasn't down to my last invisibility potion. Since he had Impulse watching his back, he didn't stock up. Gets expensive in modern times with modern shortages, y'know? Takes up space.

And at the moment, that's as far as the plan goes. He'll leave the safety of the composter wall. Find the blankets- someone must have picked them up. Take them back somehow. Barter. He's got a few things on hand that might draw the eye. He'll surrender the scythe if he absolutely must. It's quite simple, really. 'Simple' is key if you don't want analysis to morph into paralysis and chain you to the ground. Mumbo crouches to go for the leap and swing.

"Mumbles? Do you have another skin to change into?" When Mumbo turns his head, blinking and wondering how filthy he must be for a question like that, Skizz gestures at his travel robes. "You, uh… might blend in better if you're not wearing bright blue and yellow. If someone took your llama blankets, they'll probably be watching for you."

"I might want them to, if it makes it easier to find and return them to me."

Skizz hesitates, the noise skating across his teeth. That betrays the answer even before his words: "Evernight's anarchy, man. And you know how endermen are about taking stuff just because it's there."

Mumbo shrugs. "I don't have a choice. They're my llamas, dude. And if I can save the allays too, all the better."

[Full chapter on AO3 - Link at top]

[i-me-mine]

As time goes by | Chapter 17: Gone

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Word Count: 8k

Masterlist | Previous Chapter | AO3

Chapter Summary: Enjoying your last days in Hawkins before leaving for college could have been easier if you hadn’t had to deal with the fact that Eddie ran away and left you alone after you kissed.

Notes: Sorry it took so long for me to update this! Life got in the way, then I got locked out of Tumblr; it took me a while to get back to writing… and then I wrote this super long chapter - I thought about splitting it into 2 chapters, but it’s been so long since I posted that I didn’t want to delay it anymore xD.

People spend their whole lives experiencing moments and sensations that become memories that, over time, will weaken and disappear. But you were sure you’d never felt an emotion like the one that washed over you when Eddie kissed you. The feel of rough guitar-playing fingers on your skin felt etched into you, and his lips’ soft, urgent touch felt like you were meant to merge into one. The wave of feelings invading your being in those moments changed you fundamentally. You didn’t see how you could be the same after that.

And knowing that Eddie was gone and that you probably wouldn’t get the chance to feel that again was unbearable. It was one thing to dream of what it would be like, a wish lost in the realm of imagination… and another to have that vivid memory bubbling up inside you. You already knew you were going to suffer, like a drug addict going through withdrawal.

The sounds seemed far away while you were still deep in thought, but you could hear Steve’s voice, with a falsely excited tone, trying to encourage everyone to return to the backyard, drawing attention away from you. The room grew quieter, and you felt Robin nudging your shoulder.

“You are full of surprises, huh? I was betting on Harrington... But, you like Munson, then?” 

“Yes,” you murmured, admitting it. 

“But you like him, like… for real? How much?” Nancy urged, trying to get more information from you. 

“Obviously more than he likes me, not that I can help that,” you sighed, ashamed, remembering how everyone saw you being rejected. 

“Judging by the intensity of that kiss, I’m sure there is more love than you may imagine. I was worried we wouldn’t be able to keep things PG here.” Robin tried to cheer you up. 

You shook your head in doubt, though your heart throbbed at her words, and you wanted more than anything to be able to believe them. At that moment, when you were his, and he was yours, everything seemed perfect, making it easy to feed your delusions that he could love you back.

Robin and Nancy started commenting on the boy’s dares, making fun of their performances, trying to make you laugh. After a while, you were feeling a little better, and you joined the rest of the gang, and gladly, no one else brought up the subject of Eddie up, so you tried your best to enjoy the rest of the night. As everyone returned home and you and Steve remained, he opened his arms, and you ran to his embrace, allowing yourself to cry. He knew you were hurt, and you knew that you could let your tears run freely around him, that he would offer you comfort, not judgment. 

“It was too good to be real.” you breathed deeply. “How can the best and worst thing that has ever happened to me be at the same moment?” you mourned. “Why doesn’t he love me? Am I such an unlovable person?”

“Please, how could you think he doesn’t love you after that kiss? Seriously, I’ve never seen anything like that… I can’t even imagine what it was like for you guys who felt that. Someone who doesn’t love you wouldn’t kiss you like that; it’s impossible.”

All you could hope was that it had been as special to him as it was to you.

“But still, it wasn’t enough to make him stay. I think I’m just gonna have to leave it at that.”

Steve frowned. “Why are you saying that? Are you going to hide from him?”

“I won’t need to.”

“I’m not sure I’m following you…”

“He will do it for me. That’s what he does, what we do,” you explained. “Except that we used to do it together, hide away from our problems, from the world… But now I’m the reason why he hides away. So I have no other option than letting him go.”

“Don’t bullshit me, little lady... You may get hurt, but that doesn’t mean you stop trying.” 

But you were not sure how many times you still wanted to try. Sometimes you thought that you just don’t know Eddie anymore, that you don’t understand his signs… or that maybe he is not giving any signal at all; it’s just you wishing to have something to hold on to.

“The truth, Steve… the hard truth is that if he wanted something with me, he would have made it clear already, he wouldn’t leave.” you used the back of your hands to wipe your tears, “but he always leaves. And I love him so much, but I’m tired of being on this alone.”

Your suffering hurt Steve deeply. He didn’t understand why things couldn’t be easier for you - if someone with a heart as good as yours was not happy in love, how could anyone else? It wasn’t fair.

“You know, some people live their whole lives and will never get the chance of getting a kiss like that or loving someone as much as you love him. Why don’t you just admit how you really feel? He deserves to know the truth. You deserve to get this out of your chest. I can’t stand you keeping secrets about this.”

“It was just a kiss out of a dare, and look what happened. I can’t say anything; I’m afraid it will only worsen things.”

Steve knew you were confused and hurt, and he didn’t want to push you further, but he also loved you too much, so he couldn’t help but be honest and try to open your eyes.

“Have you noticed that usually bad communication happens out of fear? Fear of conflict, fear of the result, fear of reaction…” he noticed how you looked down, avoiding his gaze. “This fear is a little monster that, if not crushed at the first opportunity of being honest, will grow, and this will become an evergrowing snowball jeopardizing everything.”

“When did you get so wise, big boy?”

“I think you bring the best out of me” he kissed the top of your head.

You were grateful that Steve let you stay there that night. The warm shower, plush sheets, and comfy bed in Steve’s guest room were welcoming, a lull in the middle of the hustle and an escape route from the trailer park, where you’d deep down wanted to be if only things had gone your way, but couldn’t think about going back after all that happened. You were daydreaming in bed when a light tap on the door caught your attention; Steve walked in and sat next to you.

“Are you feeling better?” 

“I am. I’m sorry for my little breakdown earlier… I’ve changed my mind… I’m glad that I’m able to love him so much.” you spoke a little too quickly as if trying to justify something to him. “Could you imagine how hard it would be going through life without ever feeling something so great?” 

“That’s my girl! Things won’t be this bad forever.”

“I know… and I could have avoided all this pain… but it would also mean I would miss all the awesome moments I shared with him. Things are not perfect, but I think I can live with that.” you shrugged.

“Speaking about the pain that could be avoided, but gladly was not… I think I never told you, but thank God I met you when I did… you changed my life.” he held your hand. “I was so heartbroken because of Nancy… I could have easily gone back to being a douchebag that didn’t care about anyone…”

“I doubt that, Steve…”

“I mean it.” he interrupted you. “I was confused back then, but you helped me. And you made me care about you. You showed me that there are still people with good hearts out there.”

“And you are one of them! Come here, big boy” You hugged Steve tightly, and he gently rested his chin on your shoulder.

“You saved me… and I can’t save you… that makes me so sad.”

“I don’t know how I would have survived all of this without your support, Steve. You are the best, and you are very special to me.”

You genuinely enjoyed spending time with him and getting to know him as a person was undoubtedly one of the few good things you got out of the whole nightmarish period when Eddie was with Samantha. You appreciated Steve’s kindness, loyalty, and sense of humor. He deserved so much more credit than he got. 

“Same here, little lady. I just wish you didn’t have to go so far away… but I’m sure you’ll do great things..”

“Just wait and see what I’m about to do with my life.” you laughed. “But don’t worry, a part of me will always be with you.” 

“I’ll miss you so much! Who is going to hang out with me now? No one understands me as you do. How am I going to keep myself busy without you here?”

“You won’t be alone. The kids love you, especially Dustin. Robin is great too.”

“Yeah, but she hates me.”

“She’ll learn to love you, just like I did.” 

“I’m not so sure of it! I’ll miss having someone to take care… and be taken care of.”

“Take care of our kids for me, will ya? I’m sure they’ll need you. And don’t stop looking, you’ll find someone.”

“I’ll try my best! I’ll let you rest now. Everything will be better tomorrow; you’ll see.” 

He kissed your forehead softly and stroked your hair like a loving father saying goodbye to a child at bedtime. All you could hope was that his words were true, that things would improve. But in the meantime, you could still find refuge in the memory of the kiss that changed everything.

It’s strange to see how a whole life fits into just a few cardboard boxes. Memories of years, happy and sad moments, little pieces of you separated into piles, cataloged as things to take to college, leave at home, and donate. Packing up your things was a long process over days, but it helped you physically stay away from Eddie, even though your thoughts were always on him. Until one day, as you were putting out the garbage, he approached slowly as if afraid you would run away from him.

Eddie, the vivid chaotic boy, who just couldn’t shut up about things, who always narrated so many campaigns, who had a quick mind ready to counter any smart player in D&D, was now tongue-tied, unable to find the right words to say, with a heart full of emotions and words stuck in the throat, repressed. He tentatively raised one hand as a ‘hello’ and just got a slight nod of your head as a response, which made his stomach ache. 

“I’m sorry for fucking this up. I hate the silence between us. Shit, I miss you.” he bursted.

“A little late for that, don’t you think?” 

You shouldn’t sound so wounded, damn it; you also missed him, you shouldn’t be pushing him, but your instinct gave out that reactive response before you could control yourself. You could see Eddie closing his eyes and taking a deep breath before speaking again. 

“Look, I don’t want us to go on like this, ignoring each other in life, knowing that soon you are going away.” the dark circles under his eyes indicated that he hadn’t slept well in days. “So I thought if I stopped being so, you know, stupid, and if you were merciful, we could take a shot at just pretending nothing changed and being friends again.”

The sad look in his eyes reminded you of the face he used to have sometimes as a kid. You hadn’t had an easy childhood, but you also knew that you’d somehow muddled your way through it because you had each other to hold on to. Time has passed, but somehow you were still those two kids, not knowing what you were doing but always there for each other. And you had to believe that it wouldn’t change. 

“Ok, I can do that.” you would rather have small pieces of him than nothing. “I miss you, Eds.” you gave him a small, shy smile, thinking how it was so good to tell him that, knowing all the feelings behind that.

Seeing your shimmering eyes and smile made his heart beat quickly. He wanted to take you in his arms and kiss you, but he wanted to take things slow, not wanting to risk losing you again.

“So, you should come to see us at The Hideout tonight… that could be your last chance to see us making a fool of ourselves on the stage before leaving us here.”

“I’ll be there; Gareth invited me… I’ll always be Corroded Coffin’s number 1 fan, no matter what happens or where I am.”

“Then let me show you firsthand the new song I’ll be playing today!” His eyes were now glimmering with barely contained excitement, holding your hand and guiding you to his trailer. 

He showed you the setlist, played some songs, and told you how they almost secured a fixed weekly day to play at the hideout. He was so happy - It was so good to have that soft, funny Eddie back - that boy willing to make a fool of himself just to make you laugh and feel comfortable and happy. It was easy to forget all the worries while standing with him in his bedroom. 

“We should stop running away from each other; things are always better when we are together,” he said, out of breath, after playing a few songs. 

“Hey, don’t look at me; maybe the problem is you.”

“Oh, the problem is definitely me, I’m sure.” 

“You have been nothing but trouble since our younger years,” you said, throwing a pillow at him. 

“But it was fun,” he threw it back. “I didn’t know how much I liked you until I realized every time I saw you, I just smiled…. even you being an annoying little girl, I couldn’t stay away.” 

And you smiled hearing his words, without even meaning to, like some infectious effect that Eddie had on you.

“The idea of having an older boy to protect me was too good to let it pass. I’m glad I found you.”

“I’m glad you never gave up on me.” As much as it was true, those tiny confessions were still hard to come out of Eddie’s mouth, so how the hell was he supposed to say anything else? He was trying to take small steps, but it was not getting any easier. 

He laid down next to you without a word. It could have been an awkward silence, but staying next to him was too good of a sensation for you to complain about.  

“Do you think I’ll adapt to college life? Sometimes it does not feel like something for me,” you said in a shy voice, as that was a genuine concern in your heart. 

“I’m sure you’ll do great! You were made for this! I was not made for college, and unfortunately, I was also not made for anything else” Eddie hugged you and started to brush his fingers through your hair.

“You were made for being with me,” you thought but did not dare to say. As much as you wanted to kiss him and tell him how much you wanted him, you were also happy to be able to be there, hugging him again. 

When you embraced Eddie, you felt like it was a kind of energy transmission, and it made you feel at peace, even if for a few seconds. Staying there with him like this was like the world stopped so you could be truly happy for a while. Even if just for a bit.

And in times like these, feeling his arms around you, you thought that there was nothing greater in life than your love for him… and that it should count for something… but you also knew that it was nonsense, that you were just living the last few breaths of something that had already ended. 

“That was amazing, guys!!” you exclaimed as you entered the backstage. 

“Things will be way quieter now that we won’t have you single-clapping for us after the show anymore.” Jeff laughed.

Acid remarks were being thrown on each side - you would surely miss spending time just hanging out with the boys at the hideout. Eddie, however, was grumpy in the corner of the room, clearly not sharing the fun vibe that was going on. When he noticed you taking gifts from your backpack to give to the boys, the farewell gifts you were distributing to everyone, he couldn’t handle that anymore and stormed out of the room.

“Don’t worry about him; he is just having a hard time dealing with… you know… the fact you are leaving soon” Gareth face transformed with a huge smile when he saw the red flannel shirt you gave him. “I love it, by the way.”

“Yeah, you rock!” Jeff added, proudly looking at the Black Sabbath shirt you gave him. 

“Would you mind if…” you started saying

“Go, he needs you.” Gareth encouraged you with a smile. 

You found him smoking a cigarette, looking to the stars, and he let out a startled gasp when he noticed you approaching. 

“Would you mind sharing?” you said tentatively, getting a small smile from him, and he handed you the cigarette. 

You stayed there for a moment when you finally broke the silence. “What’s wrong, Eds?”

He ran his hands on his face before looking at you. 

“I just can’t understand how everyone could be so okay with you going away.” 

“And I can’t understand why you are acting like this and wasting our time before I’m gone. It’s not easy for me, you know.” you countered. 

Your sudden sincerity took Eddie aback. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. His facial expression seemed confused for a moment, and suddenly he wrapped his arms around you, and you rested your head against his chest. His hands slid up your back, and his cheek leaned against your hair.  

“I’m sorry if I’m making things worse… I’m just feeling lost,” He admitted.

“So am I,” you whispered.

The scariest thing about distance is that he didn’t know what to expect. Maybe you would miss him or completely forget about him. He never planned to fall in love with you, and things could be much easier if he didn’t. But at the same time, thanks to you, he knew that his life was way better.

“Let’s go home, shall we?” he offered.

The ride home was quiet, both of you with a million thoughts running in your heads but not verbalizing a single one. There were so many things you wanted to ask him… but you knew that Eddie would lose it if he knew what you were thinking and feeling. As you got to the trailer park and climbed out of the van, you asked the question that was burning in the back of your mind. 

“So… what should we do with our last days here?” 

“I just want to spend every possible minute of them with you,” he admitted.

How could someone give you so much strength yet still be your only weakness?

“Come on, then,” you said, pulling him into this trailer, feeling his warm and sweaty hand in yours. It was insane to think how you were both afraid of speaking about your feelings but were also unable to deal with how starved for each other closeness you were. 

Laying on the bed beside him felt like a luxury you couldn’t afford. You wished that you hadn’t wasted so much time shutting him out, maybe it was already too late to live what you would really want to, but that didn’t mean that you couldn’t enjoy what you have now. 

“I know you are giving gifts to everyone, but would you accept one from me?” he whispered and smiled when you nodded, agreeing. 

He then turned to hit play on his stereo, and you waited silently. Then the music began. And his voice, sweet, deep, passionate, started singing, and the lyrics described the travels of an adventurer in a distant land with his companion. Under that disguise, you recognized some of your own adventures and moments you both shared, and you knew it was a song about you. You listened, speechless and wide-eyed. You knew he was waiting for your reaction, but you couldn’t find the words to speak. Tears welled in your eyes, and you reached up to wipe them away before they streamed down your face. 

“I thought that maybe you could take the tape to listen whenever you miss us.” his voice was low, and he couldn’t bring himself to look at you.

“Oh, Eds…” you started, but he interrupted you, putting a small package in your hand.

You opened it and couldn’t help but smile. It was a guitar pick necklace, but that wasn’t a typical guitar pick. When you were younger, you started doing small jobs here and there to get some coins, and the first thing you bought wasn’t something for you. You went to the music store and chose that pick for him. He used to tell you it was his lucky pick and used it in important concerts or whenever he was too anxious. 

“Take it with you… maybe it would make you remember me once in a while. You know how it is, out of sight, out of mind.”

You took it in your hand and felt it for a moment. Its energy was warm and comforting, like a warm hug. You placed its chain over your neck and held it close to your heart. 

“You’ll wear it?” he asked.

“Of course, I will.” 

He grinned at you with that wide happy smile that melted your heart. 

“You may not be able to be around me, sweetheart, but you can carry a piece of me with you,” he added shyly. 

You reached out to touch his cheek, and he caught your hand, pressing it against his lips. He stroked your cheek With his other hand, and you could feel the blood rushing beneath your face. You stayed there, pressing your foreheads together, inhaling simultaneously. You wished you weren’t able to be so comfortable in silence because there were moments when things had to be said, but you both were, again and again, choosing to avoid speaking about what really mattered. Once again, you decided to delay a hard conversation and sank into sleep, enveloped in his warmth. 

Eddie, however, was having a hard time falling asleep, afraid that if he closed his eyes, you would disappear. He slowly realized how much he would miss that intimacy - holding the other in the middle of the night, cuddling, holding hands, laughing about something dumb the boys did or said, listening to music, reading to each other. All the lingering stares. All those conversations without speaking. He knew he would not find that with anyone else, and knowing that he was about to lose made him want to cry, and it took a long time until he finally gave up and slept.

Despite the gray day, the sun escaped and entered through the window. When Eddie woke the next morning, he gazed at your back as you slept and felt something that he couldn’t name in the pit of his stomach. It could have been desire or affection, but he knew it was more. 

Your bat tattoo on display seemed to tease him. You made it as a promise that you would fly away together, but now you were leaving, and he would stay behind, left, forgotten. He wanted to hold you close and not let you go away, but he knew it was selfish. 

“I’ll make you proud someday. I promise,” he murmured, knowing you could not hear him. 

He lightly touched each of the bats in your tattoo, trying not to wake you, thinking if they would somehow help you fly back to him one day. A gasp left his lips as he noticed you turning to face him. But you were not awake, not yet. He noticed how your eyes started to blink and knew you were close to waking up, so close… he ran his hand over your face gently and wished he could keep you there. He wished he had the power to know what’s on your mind and wished you couldn’t know what’s on his as he was ashamed of all the messy thoughts clouding his mind.

“Are you awake already, sweetheart? Let me get you breakfast then” he kissed your forehead, getting up and leaving the room. 

An idea has been forming in your mind the whole night, and you looked around, finding Eddie’s notebook and his pen. You hurried and wrote what you wanted desperately to tell him on a piece of paper, folding it and writing “For Eddie” on top of it, leaving it on his bedside table before leaving his bedroom. 

You had existed in a blissful bubble for the past few weeks, living in the moment, savoring every second of the time you spent together. You watched movies, read to each other, went on hikes, laid on the top of his trailer, and gazed at the stars. You took advantage of any opportunity to find comfort in each other’s arms without crossing the line of a kiss again, but you were happy anyway. It had been easy during this time to put off any serious discussion, any talk of the future. But as your last day in Hawkins approached, Eddie started to get sad, and in his heart, he began to believe he wasn’t good enough for you and that soon you would realize it, so it would be better if you were not there by his side when it happened. 

On the morning before your last day, you got up and left the trailer while Eddie slept on unawares, snoring softly. You promised Will that you would play one of his campaigns before leaving, and the boys would meet very early in Mike’s basement. You knew the campaign would likely go through the whole day, so you had already planned a sleepover with Nancy, and Max would join you. Joyce was kind enough to convince Hopper to let El join the boys during the day, so you had the chance to also say goodbye to her, but unfortunately, he didn’t allow her to stay the night. 

It was fun playing D&D with the boys. You couldn’t wait until they got to high school; you were sure that Eddie would love to welcome them to Hellfire. They were excited when you gave them your old miniatures and D&D guides. You knew you wouldn’t have time for it in college, and D&D stuff is usually something that you pass from one player to the other - you hoped that maybe you could pass your guides to Max, but she wasn’t interested in it - hopefully, your old things were safe with the kids until they could find a new player who would benefit from them. 

You had a great time during the night with the girls. You knew that Nancy cared about the kids a lot, and you wanted Max to know that while you would be away, Nancy would still be someone she could count on - that’s why all the moments you three shared mattered a lot to you. And you knew you were going to miss them.

The morning of your last day finally arrived. Steve planned a farewell party for you, which was good, as everyone was busy with their summer jobs and you didn’t see them as much as you wanted to. But that was the last time you would see Max before leaving. When the time for the goodbye came, you gave her your gift: a Walkman. 

“Music always helps, no matter what you’re going through. I’ll be listening to mine, so whenever you listen to yours, we’ll be connected,” you explained when you gave it to her. 

Unexpectedly, Max threw her arms around you. “You be careful,” 

You hesitated just a moment before you hugged her back. “You, too,”

She still kept her arms around your neck, head on your shoulder. “I’ll be all right,” she said, clasping your face. “But I’ll miss you, for sure.”. 

“I’ll miss you too, Max. You have Nancy… and you have El too. She needs her time, but I’m sure you two will be great friends, be patient; it will happen, I know it! And I love you, don’t forget that!”.

“I love you too,” said Max, not wanting to let go of you.

When you got back to the trailer park, Marc was already waiting for you. He was there to get your things to put in the car, so you could go right after the party, not needing to come back to the trailer park later. You were glad he was there to help you - your boxes were heavier than you thought. 

“Need a ride for the party?” he offered after loading the car with the last box.

“I’ll go with Eddie… but I’ll see you there, right?”

“Of course.” his smile diminished a bit. “see you later, princess,” he said before driving away. 

Your house suddenly felt so empty. Your father was drunk already, snoring on the couch, and didn’t pay attention when you tried to say your goodbyes. You left your house and met Eddie in your usual spot in the woods near the trailer park. Without a word, he understood how you were feeling and held your hand, guiding you to the old tire swing where you used to play when you were kids. 

“I think you need a little bit of fun, m’lady,” he said while helping you get into it. 

He pushed you, and you started singing silly songs as you did as a child. He laughed and started to sing along, and at that moment, the sound of your voices made you forget all the things that were worrying you. It was like being back in those simpler times.

“You know I’ll stand by you, support and love you, no matter the distance between us, right? Nothing will ever change.” He said in a choked voice. The fact that he wasn’t looking into your eyes made it a bit easier for him to speak. 

“Things change, Eds… in a moment we were kids playing here.. And in a blink of an eye, a decade goes by, and here we are… with me getting ready to move to another city, having to deal with living by myself, going to college, finding a job, adapting to a whole new life…”

“All of this seems too much for only one girl.”

“Well, don’t blame me for trying. I’ll try to have courage.”

And Eddie thought it was beautiful becausem deep down,  he was a man afraid of many things - and he got distracted for a moment and didn’t notice you tried to jump off the tire swing and fell to the ground.

He hurried to check if you were hurt, and the sound of your laughter echoed while he helped you get back up. The rest of the world dropped away when you took each other’s hand and looked into each other’s eyes. You felt as if you could hear the flickering of birds, water lapping, and the wind blowing, and then all at once, you couldn’t. Everything around you fell silent. It was just the two of you.

It could have been minutes or just a second; you couldn’t measure how long you stared at each other, unable to break eye contact. Eddie looked like he was about to slam you against a tree and make out to you, or maybe it was just the burning desire playing tricks with your mind. Being so close to him was torture. You were tired of pretending.  

“Eddie, I have to admit… I’m scared.” you were on the verge of tears

“Just saying that makes you more brave than you imagine… but you don’t have to be scared, sweetheart.”

But you were scared about the new life ahead of you and the things you were leaving behind. 

“What if I’m making the wrong decisions, Eds? What if…”

He interrupted you: “I’ll be damned if I let your insecurities win. I have never met anyone like you; if there is anyone that can conquer the world, that one is you.”

“The rest of the world may not agree with you, Eds.”

“Sweetheart, other people’s judgments are meaningless… unless you allow them to mean something. Don’t do this”.

And as soon as the words came out of his mouth, Eddie realized something - He was always fearless, not worrying about the bullies in the school, always doing as he pleased… but it was different with you. He usually got speechless and was always worried about messing up and afraid of what you could think… and that was the reason. He didn’t care about what others were thinking except for you. What you could think about him meant the world to him, the opinion that mattered.

There was a lot he wished to confess, but he struggled to let the next phrase come out of his mouth: 

“You know… I’m scared too. Things are easy when you are here… but life will be hard again once you leave.”

“And what does that mean, Eds?” you paused. “Is there anything you wanna tell me?”

His heart was hitting his chest, and he hoped you couldn’t feel its ragged rhythm. He, a man who could talk to anyone, was now tongue-tied in your presence. He just couldn’t seem to control his words or his emotions, though he tried his best. Every time you were together, he held back. He wanted to be all over you but was cautious, not wanting you to see how he was burning for you. 

But time passed, and he kept quiet. You felt your chest getting heavier and bit your lip to avoid the tears pooling in your eyes. You took his silence as a sign of indifference.

“We should get back,” you murmured, defeated, walking back without waiting for him.

The sadness of the cold goodbye you got from your father and the silence from Eddie faded away when you got back to the trailer park, as Wayne was waiting for you with warm eyes and a smile. Saying goodbye to him was more challenging than you thought, and you could already feel the tears pooling in your eyes, and you looked down, not knowing how to say goodbye to him. 

“You should get Hopper to arrest me - leaving you and Eddie alone is practically criminal negligence; who will take care of you now?”

“Our lives won’t be the same without you here… but I think it’s important to get away from where you’ve grown up for some of your life… Go see the world, kiddo! But don’t forget you’ll always have us here whenever you want to come back.”

“What if I don’t want to go?” you mumbled, pouting like a small kid.

“Keep your head up, my sweet, beautiful girl. This is just the beginning. Don’t forget this old man will always wish you all the best.”

You were never good with words, and this time you wished you were because there were so many things you wanted to tell him. 

“I love you, Uncle Wayne!” You hugged him around the waist, tears streaming down your face. 

“There, now. You don’t want to miss your party. Go have fun, kiddo. I love you.”. He patted your back and tried to hide that he was almost crying.

Eddie was also trying to keep his emotions under control and tried his best to distract himself by singing in the car while going to Steve’s house, knowing that was probably the last car ride you would share. He didn’t want to think of all the preparations you did - how you left him a copy of the keys to your trailer, how you let him store some of his belongings in your old room, to declutter a bit his bedroom in his trailer, how you were wearing his favorite shirt, and wearing the guitar pick necklace you gave him. He just couldn’t believe this was the day he would lose you. 

When you got to Steve’s house, everyone was already there - Eddie let you go and join the others, he knew that everyone wanted to spend time with you, and he wanted to let you enjoy it. He was happy to see you all playing and having fun together. 

And during all that, he gazed at you, trying to memorize everything about you. Your hair, your eyes, the clothes you were wearing, your lips, your cheeks, the color of your skin when the sun hit it, your voice, so beautiful while singing along with the boys, that smile that he loved so much. 

He looked at you and wished he would never stop looking at you, but he knew it was the end. He could already imagine that the weeks would pass, maybe you would stop to write back his letters, to answer his calls, there would be that unspoken thing, the heavy silence, and you would then forget about him. So he knew he had to remember every little detail now because those were the last moments he would have the chance to see and witness them.

And you were smiling so beautifully, playing catch with the girls when you stopped and looked at him. And then you started to run to him, and without thinking, he also ran to meet you. He picked you up and spun you around, inhaling the sweet scent of your hair. Being around you made him feel giddy and excited. It made his heart race, and he could not string a coherent sentence, but he was glad it didn’t bother you. 

“You know that not a single day will go by that I won’t think of you, right?”

“Good!” you replied, smiling.

He could picture the whole life ahead you would have, and he couldn’t help but feel like he was holding you back. He had no idea what would happen in the future, which scared him. 

“You and I are going to be okay; you know that, right?” he didn’t know if he was telling that to reassure you or to convince himself about it. 

You nodded, and when your lips opened to say something, Robin grabbed your arms, making you stand in a chair to make a speech to everyone before you left. Shyness washed over you, but you did your best to mumble a few words to everyone.

“And we may have had some ups and downs,” you concluded, looking fondly at the group, “but I love every one of you. I know that I’m moving on to the next chapter of my life, but please know that I sincerely hope we can hold each other close in our hearts. I know I’m taking all this love with me wherever I go.”

“She is smart. Too smart to stay stuck here,” Steve murmured. He could feel the tears falling, and Robin, standing by his side, was surprised to see that he wasn’t trying to stop the tears.

You raised your cup, your eyes shining with tears. “Cheers, everyone. I’m so glad I met you!”

“Cheers!” They all responded in unison, tapping their cups together and wiping their eyes with broad smiles. No one was smiling brighter and crying harder than the curly hair boy in the corner.

“That’s my girl!” you heard Steve call out from the sidelines - you were thankful he was there trying to cheer you, although it made you feel the blood hot under your cheeks.

He held out his arms for you and brought you in a tight hug. “I’m so proud of you, little lady,” he murmured into your hair as you leaned your head against his chest. 

“I know you are, big boy!”

“I’m gonna miss you so much” Nancy stole you from Steve’s arms to hug you. 

“Don’t. Be. A. Stranger.” Jonathan wagged his finger in your face. 

You pretended to think about it for a second. “Sorry, Jonathan. Can’t make any promises.” You patted his face giving him a confident smile.

Eddie stepped into the space Jonathan had once stood in, finding himself beside you. The indescribable urge to touch and kiss you welled in his entire being, but he attempted to keep it at bay.

“Are you gonna say goodbye? I don’t wanna hear it.” Eddie said quickly. 

You shared one last hug, hiding your face in his neck. You mumbled what you knew could be your last words to him.

“I’m afraid we will forget this. I don’t wanna forget how this feels.” 

He stepped back and gently cupped your face, staring into your eyes. “I won’t forget. I could never forget you… it’s hard to forget someone who gave me so much to remember.” 

You were unable to speak another word, lost in those chocolate-brown eyes. You hoped that your eyes would say enough. 

“shh,” he whispered, brushing his thumb across your bottom lip. “it’s okay, sweetheart.”

Your eyes locked, and your breathing quickened. A tiny spark of hope that you would kiss crossed your mind, but the sound of a door slamming snapped you out of the moment. You turned to find Marc ready and waiting for you by his car. 

“Up you go,” Eddie said, in a voice he was fighting to keep steady. He leaned in close, gently, and whispered, “I’ll miss you.” 

He stepped back again, you both just staring at each other awestruck. Dazzled. In his mind, he kept repeating, “I’m never gonna be okay with being apart. I’m gonna keep missing the hell out of you,“ but he couldn’t find the strength to tell you that.  

One side of his mouth pulled up into your favorite uneven smile. You couldn’t catch your breath soon enough to reply and just tried to smile back. The words stuck in your throat as you saw the lost light in his eyes just before he turned and walked away. 

You waved your goodbyes to the others and joined Marc, ready to start the ride. Through it all, you sat numbly in the car, tears leaking steadily from your eyes, while you left your heart, your whole life behind, heading into the unknown. 

Several beer cans were spread out in the trailer’ living room, and Wayne’s heart ached when he noticed a wasted Eddie with his head on the table. 

“Boy, are you ok?” he asked, knowing already the answer.

“She left. Why leave me? Why no one stays? What am I going to do now she is gone?” the intrusive thoughts were fighting their way into Eddie’s mind and were winning. 

“C’mon, boy, as much as heartbroken you must be now… she must have felt the same pain when leaving; she is crazy about you.”

“All I ever wanted was to be enough for her. But I’m not. Do we get what we deserve? Because it seems that I surely don’t deserve her. Why would I? She is now going to college while I’m here, stuck repeating the senior year. I wanted to be a perfect guy and be important, but why would she want someone like me? She would never want…” 

Eddie was speaking so fast, his breathing increasing as he was getting increasingly anxious, until Wayne put a hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him down. 

“You need to stop being so hard on yourself, Eddie. You need to see yourself as worthy of love, son, because you are.”

“I’m not; I’m just a fucked up mess.” he tried to push Wayne away, but Wayne decided not to leave Eddie’s side. “I always thought that loving someone, giving that much authority to one person was scary, but you see… that’s the easiest part. I would give my whole life to her without thinking twice - but the problem is that my life is not valuable, not enough for her, and that’s scary.”

“Being receptive to affection is one of the things that trauma steals from us, boy, and it hurts me to see this happening to you.” Wayne caressed Eddie’s hair. “I’ve already been in that moment of not accepting, or rather forgetting how to accept good things… and I can tell you that pain can put us in places that are complicated and far away from the ones we care about, and we can get lost… you don’t have to go through that.

“It’s not that easy! When I saw all those romantic movies with her, I understood why she loved them, but I never wanted to live them... I mean, can you imagine loving someone so deeply that when they leave, you crumble into pieces?” he sighed. “And here I am, feeling just like them. And I know what comes next, a pain that will engulf me so much that I won’t be able to eat, sleep or drink properly… I felt it before when we were apart, and now it will be even worse.”

“So you would rather not love her, then…”

“Loving her is the best thing that could have happened to me! But it’s the worst for her! I only mean trouble for her.”

“Life is trouble, son. You’ve got to fight for what you want.”

Eddie spent so long trying to convince himself he did the right thing but wasn’t so sure anymore. He didn’t know what to think. 

“I don’t have the right to hold her life up. I can’t fight for her if that’s not what she wants. I need to respect her decisions, and she decided to go away. There’s nothing I could do.”

Eddie got up and left, not wanting to argue anymore. Wayne sighed - He knew how good for each other you were, how you always encouraged and supported each other, how you saved each other. And he could only hope that this would not be lost forever because he didn’t want to see Eddie suffering. 

Eddie’s eyes drifted across his bedroom as he slowly entered. Every corner had something that reminded him of you, of the connection you two had, a sense of bittersweet nostalgia. What once was his happy place now felt empty and hollow. Whenever he closed his eyes, he saw your trembling lips trying to form a smile in that farewell moment. The weight of unspoken words pressed heavily upon his heart.

He sank onto the edge of the bed, letting out a sigh, replaying the moment of your parting in his mind - you have left for college, to your new beginning, while his feelings remained locked away, unvoiced - as these emotions surged, a whirlwind of frustration and regret filled his chest - he wanted to believe it was the right thing to do, he didn’t want to hold you back from pursuing your dreams, but with every minute away from you, his doubts gnawed at his resolve.

Amid his thoughts, a sudden flicker of color caught his eye. The folded piece of paper was on the nightstand amidst the chaos of scattered textbooks and old photographs. Seeing your handwriting in “For Eddie” made him smile. 

He hadn’t dared to read it when you left it for him, but he hoped that your letter would have words of comfort and would help him cope with your absence. His trembling hands reached out to retrieve it, and his heart skipped a beat as he unfolded the note.

“FUCK! SHIT, SHIT, NO!” Eddie yelled, his frustration growing into a potent mix of anger and regret, settling like a heavy fog, enveloping his senses, making him throw things around - while broken fragments stayed scattered on the floor, his tears burning their way down his cheeks. 

He sank to his knees, clutching the note tightly in his hands. It was a poignant reminder of the depths of feelings and the missed opportunity to express them. With every fiber of his being, Eddie wished he could turn back time and rewrite the script of your farewell.

Instead of the heartful, lengthy letter that Eddie expected, you wrote only 4 simple words to him:

“Ask me to stay.”

💜 For all of you that are still reading this, thank you, thank you! This story is my little baby, a coping mechanism for me and writing it helps me feel better, and I can't believe that there are people that actually read it! 🥰 Your feedback, likes, reblogs, and comments make my day!

@sidthedollface2 @bimbobaggins69 @moonmoosblog @corrodedseraphine @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @basketcaseeeeee @chloe-6123 @tlclick73 @them-cute-boys @mushroomelephant @crook3d-strang3r @ingridvasquez @vulcrum332 @1paire2vans @strangerthingsstories5255 @stranger-messenger @mitenchii @sherrylyn628 @sapphire4082

[mellowswriting]

Can we see soft Ghost? nothing specific, I trust your judgment!!!😉

let me take care of you

pairing || Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!Reader

word count || 1.8k

summary || Simon can’t bring himself to leave your side after a mission gone sideways. 

content || fluff, hurt/comfort, Simon is so in love it HURTS, injured!Reader (but it isn’t too serious), vague descriptions of injury

a/n || I loved writing this so much 😤 thank you for the request!!!

Simon “Ghost” Riley Masterlist  |  Main Masterlist

Simon’s brain screams at him to turn back with every single step he takes. He knows he shouldn’t be doing this. A thousand reasons run through his mind - it’s late, you should be resting, he hasn’t even debriefed yet. All of that is drowned out by one thought that plays on repeat. He needs to see you. Now. 

The medical bay is practically deserted and Simon is grateful. He isn’t supposed to be here at this hour and doesn’t have the energy to argue or strongarm his way into your room. The harsh echo of his boots against the linoleum sounds impossibly loud but he can’t bother to walk with caution. It’s been four days since he loaded you up on that evac chopper with a tourniquet cinched on your thigh. The time for poise has long since passed. He won’t be able to breathe freely until he can see you with his own eyes, alive and well and giving him that smile that makes him melt. If only he could fucking find you. 

A nurse rounds the corner and Simon tenses as her eyes fall on him. He expects annoyance, maybe an admonishment - but she just smiles knowingly. 

“She’s in bed six.” She nods toward a curtain-covered corner hidden away in the far back of the room. “She wanted the most isolated space for when you all got back. That one’s hard to argue with, you know that?”

“Better than most,” Simon murmurs. “Thank you.” 

The sight of you makes his chest tighten. You’re awake, much to his dismay, but you look surprisingly well-rested for someone covered in injuries - some of which he didn’t even know you had. The bruises along your side and stitches in your upper arm throw him off. It kills him how good you are at shaking off the pain. You can hide the blood and damage better than most and he hates it. All of it looks like hell but despite it all, you still smile at him like he hung the moon and stars in your sky. 

“Don’t even give me that look. I’m fine.” You reassure him. The shock must have been obvious on his face. 

“You got shot, Sargeant. There is nothing fine about that.” Simon sighs as he tugs the curtain closed. Just having you in his sight has him aching to touch you but he’s terrified that he could hurt you even more. Guilt already eats away at him for not keeping you safe to begin with. 

“C’mon, don’t ‘Sargeant’ me.” You give him that pout that never fails to weaken his resolve. Fuck, you know him too well. He’s wrapped around your pretty little finger and he wouldn’t have it any other way. You toss your hands up in faux exasperation and drag yourself into a cross-legged position. “Do I have to get out of this bed and show you just how fine I am? Or can I give you the welcome back kiss I had planned?”

“Don’t be dramatic.” As much as he grouses, Simon still comes right to you nonetheless. 

He had the foresight to clean himself up before coming to you. All the dirt and grime from the field wouldn’t be good for you, he reasoned. No need to put you at more risk. His hair is still damp beneath the plain black balaclava he opted for and the taste of his tooth past still lingers in his mouth. All in the hopes of this moment. The air stretches thin between you as you tug the mask up enough to expose his mouth. Your tongue flicks out to wet your lips and Simon doesn’t even bother to hold himself back. Need crashes through him in harsh waves that drag all reason into the undertow to be lost forever. 

Moments like these are the closest he has ever felt to peace. 

Your relieved sigh against his lips is a salve to his aching, weary soul. Simon can feel it in the way your fingers fan out against his cheek, in every brush of your tongue against his lower lip - you needed this just as much as he did. His hand settles firmly at the back of your neck, holding you so close to him that you can barely escape him to draw in a breath. The last line of tension eases at the feeling of your heartbeat pounding beneath his fingertips. You’re here. You’re okay. You haven’t left him. 

Simon presses his forehead to yours and draws in a deep breath. Your thumb brushes his cheekbone in slow, soothing circles and he can’t help but lean into your touch. He swore to himself that he was only going to check on you for a few moments and leave you to rest, but he can’t quite bring himself to draw away from you. 

“Can… Can I, uh… stay?” Simon dies a little on the inside from just how awkward he sounds, but it doesn’t even phase you. 

You just smile and scoot over to make space for him, because you know. You feel it, too. Fitting a man of his stature on such a small cot is a tight squeeze, but that only makes it better. He prefers holding you this way, with his body pressed so close to yours that he can’t tell where you end and he begins. Simon can’t rest until his face is tucked away in the crook of your neck and his arm is slung over your belly. His fingertips explore the bare skin exposed to him by your sports bra and lounge shorts, drifting carefully around the bruises and cuts. So soft, so warm. 

“I kept lookin’ for you, y’know.” Simon mumbles into your throat. “Didn’t feel right, not havin’ you on my six.” 

“I missed you, too, Si’.” You whisper, your voice already growing sleepier now that he’s wrapped around you. His mouth goes dry at your response. It never fails to punch him in the chest, how well you can par down to the meaning he can’t quite voice yet. Your hand settles on the back of his head and Simon aches for the privacy of his own room, just to take off his mask and feel your fingers in his hair. “I know how much you hate the whole mandatory leave thing, but I’m glad I’ll have you here for the next month.” 

Simon hums a sound of agreement. You are the only thing that makes it all bearable, without even trying. Just sitting in each other’s presence as you both do paperwork, arguing over whose place to sneak off to for the night, dragging each other around mats for some sparring practice. Nothing else matters as long as you’re in his sight. The closest he has ever been to domestic bliss is the moments he spent with you on leave. Those are the memories he holds most fondly. You, wearing nothing but one of his old shirts as you patter about his kitchen making coffee. Watching you drool against his chest as you finally get to sleep in for the first time in weeks. Half carrying you back to bed after one too many drinks with Johnny. 

“They’re finally letting me out of here tomorrow morning.” You sigh a moment later. “I’ll get to stare at the ceiling of my own room for a few weeks, then desk duty for a few more. Yay.” 

The sarcasm in your voice is palpable, but he can hear the undercurrent of loneliness that you try to hide from him. Not one of Task Force 141 likes being sidelined while everyone else takes on the dirty work, but you’ve always taken it harder than the others. You’ve dealt with people underestimating your abilities for your entire career and that old wound has never had the chance to heal. Being left out, even for good reason, feels like digging fingers into a bruise. Of course, you also worry after the team - your boys, as you call them. They tend to be a little too off-kilter without you there to balance everything out and you know it, too. Simon hates the idea of you stuck here alone, chewing your nails down to the quick as you conjure up worst cases and what-ifs.

An old urge rears its head, one that becomes harder to stifle as the intimacy you share flourishes. His resolve weakens with every moment spent with you. Whether you’re asleep in his arms or saving his ass in the middle of a firefight, it has never mattered. Wherever he is, he wants you there with him - no matter the circumstances. He doesn’t want to fight this anymore. It’s exhausting to constantly deny himself something he craves so deeply. The idea of relenting to his desires has been forgone for so long that anything beyond his basic needs feels selfish. 

Simon leans back to look at you suddenly enough that you meet his eyes inquisitively. Your eyebrows quirk as you chuckle, “What?”

“Come stay with me. Not just until you get better. For good.” Simon’s voice is steely as he spits out the words that force him into the abyss of uncertainty. Vulnerability has never been his strong suit but the way you look at him, eyes glittering with affection and surprise, make it all so goddamn worth it. He forces his tone to soften. “Just… let me take care of you, yeah?”

You blink at him. Once. Twice. A soft, bright smile curls your lips, crinkles the corners of your eyes. 

“Yeah,” You whisper. “I would love that.” 

The relief that washes over him is nothing less than divine. Simon pulls the mask out of his way just enough to kiss you, a soft yet earnest brush of his lips against yours. All he wants is to pull you beneath him and engrave his love into your skin with every touch. You pull him closer with a honeyed sigh, your sweetness spreading across his tongue and down into his very core. Simon loses himself in your touch, in the peace your presence brings him. His fingertips dig into your jaw to hold you still as he takes in the sight of you. Your lips all spit slick and a little puffy from his attention, your eyes half-lidded but so bright and happy. 

You smile up at him as you tug his mask back into place and shove his head back onto your shoulder. “No more dropping big things on me in my sickbed, Lieutenant. We both need sleep.” 

Simon may be the superior officer in the room but he follows your orders like a good soldier. You’re right, as always. He’s fucking exhausted. Sleep hasn’t been easy to find in the last few days with all of the uncertainty but now that he’s back in your arms, it comes with ease. He takes in the warmth of your body as he settles in, his fabric-covered nose brushing along your throat. 

He falls asleep to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat fluttering beneath his fingertips.

[mackenzielovee]

Hi bestie, your writing is just 👩‍🍳💋. If possible to do a y/n with Rafe where they fight and reader sleeps in the guest room. When Rafe realizes y/n is not in their bedroom goes and sleeps in the guest room with them.

a/n: hey baby! thank you so much for requesting this. it was fun to write. I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: swearing, smut (fingering, kissing), mentions of drug use/abuse

Word Count: 2.4k+

my writing

apologies - rafe cameron

You stop pacing Rafe's bedroom to check your phone once again. The time keeps ticking by, and Rafe keeps not calling you back. He was supposed to be home hours ago; the two of you had plans to go out to the dock and eat dinner, hanging out and watching the sky. He had told you to be at his house at eight. It's now nearing midnight, and you haven't heard a peep. You pick up your phone to dial him again just as his door knob turns and Rafe slowly peaks his head in the room.

When he brings his eyes up to yours, he smiles quickly and sweetly, knowing he's in trouble but trying to soften to you up. You throw your phone back down on his bed and turn around, setting your hands on your hips and taking a deep breath. At least he's fine.

"Hey, baby," Rafe speaks, his voice sickeningly sweet.

You turn back around and watch as he carefully enters the room and closes the door, putting his back up against it. It's like he's trying to take up as little room as possible.

"Well, now that I know you're alive, I'm just gonna go home," you sigh, picking up your phone once again from the bed. Rafe takes a step forward, then another, then sets his hands on your arms to try and stop you from moving.

"No, baby, please don't leave," he says. Your eyes flicker up to his, and you instantly notice how bloodshot they are. You take another deep breath and close your eyes, ready to ask him the question you know you don't want the answer to.

"Rafe," you start, your voice calm, "Please tell me you are not high right now."

"I'm not high right now," Rafe says too fast. You look up at him again and can tell instantly that he's lying.

"Are you fucking kidding me, Rafe?" you raise your voice, squirming from his grip, "You're almost four hours late, you come back high, and then you lie about it?"

"Don't fucking yell at me, all right?" Rafe says, even though he raises his voice at you in return.

You roll your eyes and start grabbing your stuff, shoving it into your bag. You just want to go home and not deal with all of this right now.

"Where are you gonna go?" he asks you, his voice thick and accusing.

"Home," you mutter. Rafe scoffs, earning your attention.

"It's midnight and raining out. Just fucking sleep here and we'll work it out in the morning."

You roll your eyes at him and continue stuffing shit into the bag. Rafe comes over and grabs onto your wrists, stopping you from packing.

"Baby," he says, his voice softer, "Just chill for a second so I can explain, okay?"

You shrug and nod, telling him silently to go ahead and try to explain himself. He swallows before he speaks, so you know this will be good.

"Okay, well, I was out, y'know, with Topper and Kelce, right? We were at the Club. And Barry came by and started saying some shit to me and it just turned into a mess, okay? I had to handle shit with my sister and her dumbass friends and Topper's all pissed off because she's with John B now-"

"Rafe," you stop him, "I'm missing the part where you forgot to call for four hours and then got high."

He stares down at you, looking almost blindsided by the fact that you're asking him that, then nods his head.

"Okay, yeah," he says, more to himself than to you, "I uh, I lost my phone for a bit."

"You lost your phone for a bit?" you repeat, "Like, it died?"

Rafe considers that for a moment, then ultimately shakes his head.

"No, I just lost it at the Club."

You laugh and nod your head, finally understanding, "Oh, so you were too coked out to keep track of your shit? Nice, Rafe. I'm really glad you felt the need to get high out of your mind before you spend the night with me. That makes me feel really good."

You side-step him and continue to collect your things while Rafe throws his hands up in the air out of frustration.

"Jesus, that's not what it's about," he groans, "Barry showing up just threw me off and it fucking stressed me out-"

"You don't have to do coke every time you get stressed out, Rafe!" you turn and scream at him. He moves his head back and stares at you, clearly hurt by your outburst.

"Okay, look, I apologized-"

"You didn't, actually," you interrupt him, watching as Rafe replays this whole interaction over in his head and realizes he, in fact, has not actually apologized.

"All right. I am so sorry that I wasn't home on time and that I didn't call. Some shit just came up and I had to handle it but it was shitty of me not to call. If the tables were turned, I'd be mad, too. So, I'm sorry, baby."

Your shoulders fall as you start to melt under his term of endearment for you. Even after being together for so long, him calling you 'baby' still makes butterflies go crazy in your stomach.

"I accept your apology," you say quietly, watching his eyes shoot up to yours and a grin erupt on his face, "But I'm still gonna go home. You wasted my night, Rafe. I just want to be by myself."

His eyes fall to the floor again as he speaks, "It's pouring. Please just stay. I'll drive you home in the morning."

You stare at the boy, the man, you love so much and give in. Him worrying about you is always enough to make your heart melt, no matter how mad you can get at him.

"Fine," you mumble, dropping your bag onto the floor of Rafe's bedroom.

Rafe comes over and wraps his arms around you, pulling you close and holding you tightly. He pretends to not get upset when you don't return his hug. You're still mad, annoyed, and frustrated.

"I'm gonna go shower," you tell him as you pull away.

He wants to ask if he can join you, but he knows you're not in the mood for him to be playing around. So, he lets go of you and watches as you walk over to his bathroom door and close the door behind you.

You take a long shower. The warm water feels so good on your stressed muscles and Rafe being in the other room and not with you is comforting as well. Of course, you love him, but you also love your space and need to not be around him sometimes.

When you come out of the bathroom, only wrapped in a towel, you find Rafe fast asleep on his side of the bed. You try not to be upset with him because you know he had a stressful day and hr's exhausted, but you're also mad because of everything plus the fact that he's high and pretty much just passed out on you.

You pick up one of Rafe's shirts from the floor and then slide a pair of his boxers on, then grab your phone and head for the door. There's a guest room down the hall from Rafe's bedroom that you are going to sleep in, because you want to be alone and you really don't want to listen to Rafe snore all night after he's already irritated the shit out of you.

Your bare feet scurry across the hardwood floor and over to the guest room door, quietly pushing it open and slipping inside. You pull the covers back on the bed and crawl inside, relieved to be cuddling into a bed even if it isn't your own. The sleep is already trying to take over your body, so you don't even have time to browse your phone. It's time for sleep.

Almost the second your head hits the pillow, you're out. All of that worrying about where Rafe had been and if he had been okay had really worn you out.

You're waken up from your sleep when you hear the guest bedroom door creak open. Everything in the Cameron house is ancient, so everything creaks and cracks. You turn around in the bed and face the door, seeing your boyfriend's face squished in the doorway. He smiles softly when he sees you, but you can still see the sleep lining his eyes.

"Rafe," you grumble, pulling the sheets over your head.

"Baby," he says back, a playfulness in his voice.

He comes into the room and closes the door softly behind him. You feel him try to pull the sheets up from your grip, so you pull them tighter.

"Scoot over, baby," he whispers, so you sigh but obey.

Rafe breaks the sheets from your grasp and dives into the bed beside you, quick to wrap one of his arms around you and pull you close.

"I was worried when I woke up and you were gone," he admits to you, staring at the ceiling, "Why are you sleeping in here?"

You sigh, not really wanting to talk. You just want your sleep. Clearly, Rafe has other plans.

"You were already asleep when I got out of the shower," you say, attitude present in your voice.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart," he says quickly, "I just crashed."

You want to make a comment about how, of course he crashed, because he was high when he got home. Instead, you move your head down to his chest, making him relax.

"It's okay," you barely whisper.

Rafe sighs, knowing it's not, "I'm going to do better."

You don't respond. You can feel yourself starting to get emotional at his promises, because he's made them before.

"I mean it, baby," he tells you when you don't answer, "I really fucked up tonight. I know that. I never, ever meant to skip out on a date with you or make you angry with me. I made a really bad judgment call and it will never happen again."

You bury your face into his chest, finally allowing yourself to completely breathe him in for the first time tonight. Although Rafe screws up a lot, one thing he does well is apologize. He's said absolutely everything that you have wanted to hear since he ran late tonight.

"Promise me," you say against him, feeling your tears start to come up again.

"I promise you."

You look up at him in the darkness, then crawl up against his body to leave a kiss on his lips. It's gentle and sweet, leaving Rafe wanting more when you pull away.

"I forgive you," you tell him, bringing a hand up to play with his hair. He closes his eyes under your touch, grateful to have such an amazing woman by his side.

"I love you so much, baby," he whispers.

"I love you, too," you reply, then sit up in the bed.

You crawl on top of your boyfriend, feeling him sit up so you can have a better seat on his lap. You straddle him and bring your lips down his cheeks and to his neck, knowing you're getting to him when he moves his head to the side to give you more space to work with.

"Mmm," he hums, his hands falling all the way back to shamelessly grab your ass.

"Just because we missed our date doesn't mean we have to skip out on the best part," you whisper in his ear, purposely trying to drive him crazy. It works, because he lets out a moan at your words.

"Holy shit, that's right, baby," he nods, leaning forward and kissing you. He bites your bottom lip and pulls it back before he let's go, knowing you love when he does that.

"You're gonna take care of me, right?" you ask him, keeping your voice low.

He brings one hand around from your ass and starts to rub you through his own boxers you have on, smirking when he realizes why the fabric feels so familiar.

"Don't I always?" he asks, "You were so mad at me earlier, and still put my fucking boxers on, huh?"

You grin but bury your head in his neck so he can't tell. Rafe's smirk just widens when you don't respond, so he slowly and carefully brings his hands up to the top of the boxers, then bringing his hands down to your core. You know he's going slow on purpose to tease you, and it's working. He always drives you crazy.

"Rafe," you finally whine, wanting him to do something other than graze your center.

"Hmm, baby? You want more?"

He smirks when he can feel you get even wetter as he speaks. He knows exactly what turns you on.

"Yes, please," you nod, doing your best to not sound impatient.

"So polite, baby," he grins, bringing his lips to your cheek and down to your neck as he pushes his fingers in you.

You moan as two fingers enter you, feeling Rafe start to move them in and out immediately. His grin only widens as he watches you, even being able to see you with your mouth open through the darkness.

"Keep going," you tell him, moaning once again at how good he feels.

He starts to go faster, then brings his other hand up to your mouth and sticks two of those fingers in your mouth.

"I want to hear you," he says quietly, "I know how loud you can get. But I don't want to get us in trouble. Okay, princess?"

You nod, sucking on his fingers in your mouth. He moans and moves his fingers in and out of you even faster. He feels you clench around him, so he knows you're ready. He looks up into your eyes and then pushes his fingers back further into your mouth.

"Come for me, baby, I've got you."

You nod and clench again, then come only a minute later. He smirks as he removes two separate sets of his fingers from your body, bringing the ones that been buried inside your core up to his lips.

"Jesus," you groan, watching him as he licks his fingers clean through the darkness.

"You better not be exhausted, I'm not done with you yet," he warns you.

You smile and lean forward, kissing him roughly and moving your hips against his. He moans in your mouth, not being able to contain himself.

"Shit," he swears when you pull away, "I'm gonna fuck up more often."

[prettyboypucey]

Weird ~ G.W.

Summary: George is gorgeous. Charlie is a meddler. The snow is cold. (this summary sucks...just read it) 

Pairing: George Weasley x Y/N 

Word Count: 2,404 (who do I think I am?) 

Warnings: mentions of bullying. mentions of food/eating. george is unknowingly triggering? reader cries. idk? let me know if i missed something. 

A/N: part 2? maybe? translations are for romanian via google translate. do not come for me if they are hella wrong. 

Translations: draga - darling; dragoste - love; tampit - stupid 

     I had never been normal. From the time I was a toddler I had stars in my eyes and dirt on my knees. While the other kids in my grade were playing with dolls and dressing respectably, I was riding imaginary dragons and wearing mismatched socks with dungarees and a butterfly headband. Normalcy evaded me even further when at 11 years old, I got a letter declaring me a witch.

     When I first came to Hogwarts I spent the majority of my time alone. It appeared that even children who could wave a stick around and makes things fly wanted nothing to do with the colorful little girl. Meeting Luna Lovegood in my second year was the best thing that had ever happened to me. Here was a girl who allowed me to be exactly who I was with no judgments. And then she introduced me to Neville Longbottom and Ginny Weasley, and suddenly that little girl who thought her only friends would always be the rocks she painted faces on, had found her people.

     Of course, being friends with Ginny Weasley meant knowing her many brothers. So after graduation when I went off to Romania to work with dragons it made me feel slightly better knowing Charlie Weasley would be there. He quickly took me under his wing and became the older brother figure I had never had. After working together for three years, and electing to stay at the sanctuary for the last two over the holidays, he had finally convinced me to come home with him. I was reluctant to leave the sanctuary - the one place I truly feel safe (despite the massive fire breathing creatures).

     Charlie had warned me that being with one or two of the Weasleys was very different from being with the entire Weasley clan. Obviously I knew Charlie and Ginny, Ron had always been nice to me, and I had met Molly a handful of times in passing. However, Bill was known to be quite intimidating, Percy was supposedly very no-nonsense, and the twins (albeit never cruel) had a reputation of being hell-raisers.

     Apparating to the edge of a marsh with Charlie by my side I could see the rising structure haphazardly balanced slightly ahead.

     Pausing, I glanced at the back of the familiar red covered head, “I don’t know Charles, maybe I should just go back. I really don’t want to be a burden.”

     Charlie very quickly rounded behind me to continue guiding me towards his home, “No, no, no, no, no. No. You’re not a burden to anyone draga. Keep your head up and if any of them give you grief - remind them of the giant, winged beasts you can feed them to.”

     Quickly placing a kiss to the side of my head Charlie bounded ahead again to open the door and announce your arrival. Before I could toe off the first boot to leave next to the dozen other pairs in the entryway, a pair of arms had flung around my neck.

     “Y/N! I missed you so much!”, Ginny pulled back, keeping her grip on my shoulders, to inspect for any major injuries.

     I held onto her elbows, keeping her close, “Hi Gin, I missed you too. A lot. I’m loving this new look by the way.”

     She reached up to brush the now short locks behind her ears. A grin on her face as the two of us looked the other over for the first time in months. Ginny was wrapped in a pretty baby pink sweater with shades of red and white running through it. The material was soft against my palm as I hooked it around her crooked elbow to follow her into the living area.

     “You know”, she started, “I was starting to think maybe Charlie had let you get eaten or burnt to a crisp in the land of dragons. It’s been so long since you’ve come to see me or left the sanctuary.”

     “I’m sorry Ginny. It’s just that after everything, I had to keep myself busy.”

     Ginny’s smile softened into one of understanding. The war had taken a part of all of us. Although Fred had recovered after many months, that fear of almost losing such a vital part of their family had rocked the entire Weasley family to its core.

     “I get it, I do, but I worry about you. I just want you to know you’re not alone Y/N.”

     I pulled the girl into another tight hug, “I know.”

     Ginny pulled away first, clearing her throat, “Okay! Now that’s out of the way - it’s time to introduce the one and only Y/N L/N to the Weasley’s.”

     I hummed, “Hmmm and which of us should be more scared?”

     “Oh definitely the Weasleys.”

 ~~~~~~~~~~~

     Meeting the Weasley family had gone much better than expected.

     Molly had opened her arms and home to me as if I was one of her own children. By the time the night was over she had me stuffed full of warm food and drink and donning my very own coveted Weasley sweater, the lavender initial in the middle marking it as my own. Arthur had been very interested in my muggle parents and upbringing, questioning me about the functions of a rubber duck. Bill and his wife Fleur were the most stunning couple I have ever seen, and not nearly as intimidating as people portrayed them. Fleur was pleased when she found out I spoke a bit of conversational French and promised to have me over to Shell Cottage (apparently they have an amazing collection of wind chimes that I am dying to see). Percy was a bit more refined. Completely polite and friendly but he seemed reserved. Ginny had explained in one of her letters how much guilt Percy carried after the Battle of Hogwarts over how he had behaved in the years leading up to that day.

     The twins were much different than I remembered them being from the few times we were around each other in school. The physical differences were clear - George’s missing ear and Fred’s dragging limp were both signs of the prices they paid in the war. More than that however, they had matured greatly. They were still happy and made sure to pull at least two pranks over the night, poor Molly nearly lost her voice after they blew up the turkey. However, there was something in their eyes that had been dimmed. Especially in George.

     His twin almost died that night, and it reflected in George’s eyes each time he looked at his older brother. It was clear that he was still afraid because whenever Fred left a room George followed, never letting his brother out of his sight, and if he happened to lose track of him a panic began to swirl in his brown orbs.

     I was in the middle of watching as George yet again made his way to Fred’s side, clapping a large hand on his twins shoulder and throwing his head back in laughter.

     “So which one are you staring at dragoste?”, Charlie whispered as he appeared out of nowhere.

     I ignored the burning in my cheeks as I looked away from the scene in front of me.

     “I am not staring at either of them tampit.”

     “Mhmm, sure, absolutely, I believe you.”, after a quick pause he said, “It’s George isn’t it?”

     I turned and scoffed at him, “No!… How did you know?”

     Charlie let out a chuckle, “Because I know you my little dragon. I also know my brother, and just between us, he definitely likes you as well.”

     At this I let out an incredulous laugh and glanced back to where George was now telling a story, his hands moving animatedly. There was no way that George Weasley had even a remote attraction to me. He was kind, strong, clever, and so bloody gorgeous it truly was a privilege to look at him. And I am…me. Nothing special. Just a girl who had more dragon friends than human ones and whose hands were covered in scars and callouses and whose socks never matched and had never even kissed a man before. So no, there was no way that George Weasley would ever like me.

     “Hey. I know that look Y/N. Stop those thoughts right this bloody second.”

     “Charles it really is annoying when you read me like that.”

     Throwing his arm over my shoulder he began to lead me towards the twins, “Yes I know and I am sorry in advance but this needs to be done. Fred!”

     Charlie’s voice had gone from a rushed whisper to a jovial shout when we reached George, Fred, and Ron by the fireplace. George’s smile as he turned to look at us sent a million butterflies off in my tummy.

     “So Freddy, I was hoping you could help me out with a top secret project tomorrow for mum and maybe show me around the joke shop. I heard you added some new displays that I want to check out.”

     “Sure Charlie”, Fred glanced at George as he spoke, “I’m sure we can make some time for our favorite brother.”

     Ignoring Rons protest, Charlie gripped my shoulders and pushed me in front of him, “Actually George I was thinking you could stay here and show Y/N around the area. She mentioned wanting to talk a walk tomorrow and I would hate to disappoint her on her first Christmas out of the sanctuary.”

     “Um-”

     I interrupted the rejection coming from George, “No please, I would hate to be a bother and make you be stuck with me all day. I’m sure Ginny can take me.”

     George smiled and shook his head, “No it’s completely fine Y/N. I would be happy to show you around.”

     “Okay great! It’s settled then!”, Charlie looked rather too pleased with himself and obviously missed the look exchanged by his identical younger brothers.

~~~~~~~~~~

     The next morning the Burrow was a flurry of movement as everyone began their day. Apparently Charlie and Fred weren’t the only ones on their way out. The others still had some last minute gift shopping to do and Ron was spending the day with Hermione’s muggle family. After breakfast, a quick wink from Charlie, and a slam of the front door - George and I were alone in the house.

     The two of us stood facing one another in the living room for a few awkward moments before George spoke, “Well, um, did you want to head out as well?”

     “Oh sure! Yes, let me just grab my boots really quickly.”

     George led me out the door and onto the snow covered path towards the small, iced over river. Nothing was said for a while, the only sound was the crunch of snow under our boots and the occasional sniffle from one of our red noses. I was mentally imagining all the ways I was going to kick Charlie’s ass when he got back for suggesting a walk in the middle of winter when we came to the top of a hill and stopped.

     Everything as far as the eye could see was blanketed in sheets of white. Stomping my boots down into the fresh snow, I couldn’t help the giggle that escaped as the snow gave way underfoot. Feeling a pair of eyes on me I remembered that I wasn’t alone and turned to see George watching me with an unidentifiable look on his face.

     “Sorry, sorry. That was - I don’t know why I did that. I liked the feeling of the crunch of the snow I guess. Sorry.”

     George grinned, “You don’t have to apologize. It was cute.”

     I could feel my face flush at his words. His smile grew even wider at the sight of my heated face. My gaze dropped from his pretty face down to my boots. I could feel the thick socks I had on beginning to grow cold and wet from how long we’d been outside. Looking back up I could see George’s deep eyes glaze over. Assuming it was because he had been apart from Fred so long I glanced out at the view one last time before turning back the way we came.

     “We should probably get back. We’ve been gone a while and my toes are getting wet. I feel bad enough that Charlie forced you to do this anyways without you getting frostbite or something. I’ve had frostbite, it’s not fun. And now I’m rambling. I’m sorry. Sorry”

     George was shaking his head at me and said, “You are so weird.”

     Ouch. My chest tightened and the small smile I had been wearing dropped from my face. If I had been able to see past the tears forming in my eyes that were making my sight blurry, I would have seen George’s face do the same. Unfortunately, all I could focus on was that word. Weird. Strange. Abnormal. Freak. 

     Weird weird weird.

     The walk back was silent. A thick tension surrounded you both as thick snow flurries began to swirl down in the midmorning air. Just as thick was the lump forming in my throat as I fought back tears. I know I shouldn’t let his words affect me. He’s just some guy. But deep down I also know that he’s not just some guy. This is George fricking Weasley. With his stupid perfect face and gorgeous eyes and his loyalty to his family. I couldn’t help but be enamored with him from the moment I walked in the Weasley’s front door. So it hurt to hear the man I liked call me that nasty word that has haunted me my entire life.

     When we finally reached the Burrow, George tried to reach for my arm but I pulled away and ran into the house. I could hear that some of the others had returned and really wanted to avoid a confrontation. Once again, luck wasn’t on my side. Charlie came walking out of the kitchen and saw me in the entryway. His face immediately became concerned at the sight of me and he lowered the sandwich he had from his mouth.

     “Draga?”, Charlie’s voice followed me as I finally reached the stairs and launched upstairs.

     As I reached the first landing I heard him speak again, his voice rough and hard.

     “What did you do?”  

[missgeniality]

A Date With Destiny (m)

“Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves, alone - we find it with another.” - Thomas Merton

➺ Pairing: Jungkook x Female Reader

➺ Trope: Strangers to Lovers, Idol!AU

➺ Genre: Fluff, Smut, one comedian in the mix

➺ Rating: 18+

➺ Word Count: 11k

➺ Summary: You are a boss lady in the tech industry travelling to world for work. He is a chart-topping artist touring the globe to perform in front of millions of fans. In the cosmos of life, you are not likely to cross paths. Luckily, fate has a different plan for you two.

➺ Warnings: dom!jk, unprotected sex (sex is cleaner when you pack your weiner!), hickeys galore, lot of spit, oral (male and female receiving), balls receive attention, throat fucking, cum eating, edging, masturbation kinda?, cum play, pussy slapping, pussy sniffing, fingering, squirting, spanking, pain kink?, tit slapping, reader teases a bit but this man is a tease maestro, cum stuffing (is that a thing even?), Jungkook’s THIGHS need their own warning

➺ Author’s Note: @ppersonna​​ is an angel among us peasants. Thank you so much for all your help with this!   This is my first attempt at writing, and the tiniest feedback goes a long way! Hope you enjoy! 

When you die, the first pit stop you make is to the coffee gods. 

Without coffee, this whole month would have been a disaster. Back-to-back meetings, daily flights, countless documents being read, it’s a miracle your eyes are open and fully functioning. 

Being the Chief Technical Officer of a well-established company at your age had been anything but a cakewalk. You had strived hard and crossed many boulders to come to where you are. But if reaching that point required huge amounts of effort, now your work is tenfold. 

“Why can’t I just get longer flights so I can nap in them?” You mumble into your nth cup of coffee - not keeping count is for your own sanity. 

“Because longer flights apparently have crying children. You, our resident baby-magnet hypothesized that shorter flights equal more time in hotel rooms ‘sleeping’. Guess who sleeps in said hotel rooms? Everyone but you.” Your personal assistant and part-time truth-spouter Jake offers helpfully. 

“Past me was such an idiot.” You shoot back, wondering if you could inject the espresso right through your veins.

Jake pouts. “Woman, you take on jobs that an intern could do. If you weren’t such an unnecessary perfectionist I would be on the beaches of Thailand, getting sensual massages and eating some pretty pussy. But here we are, on our way to Seoul. So quit your whining because clearly, I have lost more.” 

“What if I wanted to do that too?”

“Can I watch?” 

“Right.” And that was the end of the conversation. 

Passengers on flight KE654 from Bangkok to Seoul are requested to report for boarding at Gate 45A. First Class passengers will be boarded first, followed by Business class and lastly Economy. Please keep your boarding pass ready for checking.

Jake stands up, groaning. “This is where we say goodbye. Do you wanna pretend like we’re strangers and have a hot one-night stand when we land?” 

“Sometimes I think it’s your natural response to flirt with a breathing being. Do you ever accidentally just, you know, flirt with a tree?” You try to sound sarcastic, but you’re genuinely curious. 

“If a day comes when a hot specimen like me has to flirt with a tree, humanity is doomed. Catch ya later!” He blows you a kiss before leaving for the restroom. You shake your head in awe, a small smile finding your lips. He knew how to get your mind off things.

For all his flirting, Jake’s interest in you is perfunctory. He looks after you, keeps you from starving or gouging your eyeballs out, and calms you when things are too hard. He’s seen your worst. You’ve seen him drunk out of his mind, bailed him out when he “accidentally” smoked up, and heard every new pick-up line his ingenious brain churned out. Basically, you’ve seen his worst as well. 

You take a look at your boarding pass. 3C. Jake would be in business class, and you in first. Not your choice, the company makes the rules. It's for the better, he says. Apparently, he can ‘prowl for his hunt better’, without your judgmental glare. You nearly vomit on him just for his choice of words.

Entering the flight, you stash away your hand baggage the first place you find the room and head to your seat and-

Holy. Shit.

Jeon Jungkook is sitting on your seat.

Jeon Jungkook is on your flight? 

BTS is on your flight? 

What are the odds?

Granted, you’re not a 16-year old obsessive fan, collecting photocards and waving light sticks through the screen, but even in your adulthood you’ve admired their music and shows, routinely keeping up with their discography. 

Hell, you even learned Korean years ago to better understand their songs. Maybe you are an obsessive fan.

But you can’t approach them like that. They no doubt want some privacy and not be recognized. God forbid you approach Jungkook with crazy eyes, just to be escorted off the plane for stalking. While you liked their work, you had your own, and getting thrown off this flight does not help you there.

So, you’re just gonna have to speak to him like just another passenger. 

BTS who? 

Biggest boyband who? 

You only listen to Frank Sinatra. 

“Excuse me?” You call out, a shiver of a whisper leaving your lips. You immediately chastise yourself for being so star-struck.

Big, round eyes glitter under the bucket hat. The softest ‘huh’ throws a lasso over your heart, and holds it captive. He adjusts his hat, inked fingers making a brief yet lasting appearance. The epitome of tenderness, you muse as his eyes flit here and there to figure out the situation. After finding no one to help him out, he gently offers “Yes?”

You feel extremely guilty for marring his serene face with creases of trouble. “I think this is my seat. See, 3C.” you say, pointing to the seat and then to your ticket for good measure. Did he suspect you recognize them? No. Do you look like you’re over-gesticulating? Totally. 

“Oh.” His brow distresses further, the sight has you ready to give the man your seat and hide in the bathroom for the rest of the flight. “But even I am 3C.”

His ticket shows the same characters as yours. 

Huh?

With both your faces contorted in confusion, an air hostess comes forward to help. 

“We both are booked on the same seat. How does that happen? Do I need to catch another flight?” You suddenly pour out, remembering the countless commitments you have in Seoul that would go down the drain if you don’t make it by tonight.

She's quick to reassure you. “Do not worry ma’am, I’m sure there must have been an error in the printing. I’ll be right back.” At the same time, Jungkook is approached by someone, probably one of their staff, to discuss the issue.

The air hostess returns smiling. “Ma’am, you both were booked on the same seat but this adjacent seat was left empty. We are extremely sorry for the error. You may take 3B.” She reiterates the same message to Jungkook in Korean, who then looks mighty relieved. 

Goddamn, his eyes got bigger. How much bigger can they get?

“All okay then?” He glances sideways, smile irradiating your senses and waking you up better than all the coffee could. 

“All good. Sorry for the trouble.” You add, even though it isn’t your mistake in any way.

“No no. No trouble” He beams back. 

Aw, you are in trouble. 

As the flight is about to take off, you can see the rest of BTS in the rows ahead of you, with some other staff members taking up other seats. There’s one old man with a scowl on his face, whom you can’t place with the BigHit group. Great, no crying kids. Unless the frowning grandpa snores to the heavens, you can actually catch a good four-hour snooze. Take that, Jake. Hope a kid blows snot in his face. 

Looking at your neighbor, you find him busy searching for a good video game on the screen. The other members seem to be using this flight to catch a nap, except him. You always wondered whether their on-screen persona was real or not. Now you could say at least one of his characteristics is true. 

Turning away, you bring your focus back to the document at hand. The schematics for a new product your company was launching. You had spearheaded its conception and looked over every single detail in its manufacturing. The Seoul branch is one of the main players in its production, and your last stop before heading back home. You must have every word in this file burnt in the back of your eyelids to make this deal smooth. 

Reclining your seat, and putting your legs up, you got down to business.

An Angel was calling you. 

You want to wake up, but you couldn’t, fearing the Angel would stop singing to you. Something is poking you, but the voice just drowns it all out.

Wait...

Fluttering your eyes open, you see Jeon Jungkook staring right at you. 

“Hi... They, umm--Food? Want to eat?” the Angel utters. Jungkook utters. Tomato, to-mah-to. 

“Oh!” you exclaim, wiping non-existent drool on your face. His palm on your shoulder quickly retracts at your exaggerated attempt to hide your embarrassment. “Thank you so much.”

Then, he does that thing. He smiles. Eye scrunch and all. 

Fuck the coffee gods. When you die, you want to meet the Grand Master and ask him what crack he was on to hand over so much power to one man’s smile. 

The food is placed on your table, and you thank the hostess graciously. 

“Do you need anything to drink?” She asks, to which you only shake your head. There was enough caffeine in your system to shoot a horse to the moon and you were still drowsy. There was no need to catalyze this process with booze.  

“Your Korean accent is pretty good.” Your next-seat resident comments. Ah, you had conversed with the hostess in Korean. 

“Thank you very much.” You giggle, roleplaying an acne-prone teenager talking to her hunk of a crush.

“Have you been speaking for a long time?” He pops a huge morsel of food after asking. Well, that’s another on-screen quality found to be accurate.

“Six years now. Comes in handy for my work.” 

“Oh! Did you have to learn it for work? That’s fascinating.” Another mouthful went in. You didn’t even know it was physically possible to hold that much rice using chopsticks.

“Uhh.. no..” You tussle your hair, trying to stop your cheeks from turning beet red, “I just listened to some music and consuming more content.. and subtitles are a bore, plus I needed a hobby at the time so..” 

Your unnecessarily long explanation was cut short by Jungkook’s child-like laugh, enjoying the pickle you were putting yourself in. 

“Hey! I just didn’t want to put you in an uncomfortable situation, that’s all.” you try to be cross, knowing it’s inconceivable since God himself seems to have given him whatever he wanted. If big ol’ Almighty can’t stand against his charms, you are but a mere pleb. 

He looks at you kindly. “Thank you, that was very thoughtful. I’ve been speaking to so many foreigners trying to get across to them I got surprised when you spoke so fluently.” 

He went back to chomping on his food like it was his last meal, completely unaware of your staring.  

You both speak for a long time. He explains their latest shoot and fan meeting, and you listen to him pour out his love for his job and fans as much as he could articulate. The rest of the emotion is portrayed by his now widest eyeballs (they cannot get any wider, you confirm by asking him - a request he apparently gets a lot) and intense gesticulation. It is very gratifying to listen to his past schedules, and you slip in a quick prayer for not having a job where you had to maintain public appearances while having a schedule as persevering as theirs. Sure, you had a ton of commitments. But can you throw your hair in a bun and aggressively scowl at a monitor and still meet your target? Fuck yeah.

You went on to tell him about yourself - your job, your travels, the reason you were in Seoul. He listens to them with rapt attention throwing in appropriate questions without interrupting your flow. He gives the right amount of sympathy; just enough to show that he understands why you have three sets of nightwear and a futon in your office, but not too much where it seems like you should “take a break” and “think about the joys of motherhood” - as you are often told. 

During the conversation, you digress a little to take in his slight features. The apple of his cheeks, in full display, when he tells you about how he pranked his members. The light pout of his lips when he talks about the times their path seemed too far-fetched, when every single obstacle felt like the end of their career. The stars in his eyes when he speaks of how he feels during tours, meeting the endless number of fans, the drive that keeps him going. They all make an endearing package. Eager to please, you kept the conversation going with gusto. The meal is followed by a snack break, after which you had effectively exhausted all conversation topics that could be brought up with near-strangers.

A quick alcohol break later, (yes, you caved, the catalyst was welcome) you both doze off, seemingly exhausted from recollecting respective timetables. He wakes up soon after to play video games and talk to the other members. But you fall into a deep slumber, with an Angel’s chuckles in the background guiding you through the sleep. 

Jungkook wakes up to see his character dead. The video game was forgotten after his conversation with you began. 

He spent an inordinate amount of time talking to you. And now that you’re asleep, he is only thinking about how much he enjoyed the conversation. Jungkook is not a speaker. His introversion leaves much to be desired in that department. Most of the time, his members cover for him, play the role of dutiful wingmen, and introduce him to their friends. And still, it took him a long time to talk freely.

But something about you made him open up.

Maybe it was the way you listened to him, lips slightly parted when you were absorbing every single word he let out. Maybe it was the questions you asked, treading lightly and skirting any personal questions. Maybe it was the fact that you pretended to not know him at first, mindful of his privacy. The butterflies in him could be explained by this.

But.

It could also be how graceful you looked, even though you’re dressed in sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. It could be how you carried yourself, with great elegance and poise, even though your work was taxing. It could also be your toe socks, and your glee when he showed you his.

Your personality is infectious. He already misses you, despite you being inches away, desperately wants to exhaust every second of this journey engrossed in you. 

He wonders if you feel that way too.

Speaking of whom-

A snicker escapes his lips when he turns to face you. 

In your sleepy haze, Jungkook sees that a) your mouth is wide open, b) your hands mindlessly fiddle with the reams of pages on your lap, and c) your eyes scrunch as sunlight pierces through the flight to bounce off your face. Cute, he muses, trying to locate the source of the criminal rays irking you. 

The window letting the sunbeam in is beside an old man sitting on the other end. He is eyeing the magazine in his hands with abject disapproval, like the booklet had sullied him and his family. 

Gathering up the courage, Jungkook calls out for the man.

“Excuse me, sir. Do you mind pulling the window shade?” He asks, in the sweetest voice that his hyungs would melt at first listen. 

Puppy eyes are met with the geezer’s piercing glare, making Jungkook wonder if he accidentally said something strikingly offensive instead of what he thought he said. About to backtrack his words and try again, he gets interrupted by the man letting out a big grunt, after which he continues in his endeavor to telepathically set fire to the magazine. He does not forget to give a nasty side-eye but completely refuses to comply with Jungkook’s request. 

“And my team thinks my glares are spooky.” You pique, having witnessed the whole interaction, “I ought to have him on board”. Jungkook snorts, and you take that to be his agreement. 

Pausing, you throw caution in the wind and add, “Thank you though, that was very sweet of you.”

He eyes you demurely. “No problem, you looked like you needed the rest.” 

“Listen, I-”

“So I was think-”

Ladies and gentlemen, we have just been cleared to land at the Incheon International airport. Please ensure your backpacks and suitcases are stowed away in the overhead compartments or underneath the seats ahead of you. The flight attendants are currently passing around the cabin to make a final compliance check and pick up any remaining cups and glasses. Thank you.

High-quality curses almost make it to heaven (speakers). The announcement dissipates all the courage you had mustered, feeling a rush exit your body. You had almost asked for his contact - and by the looks of it, he had wanted it too. Or maybe your hair is a rat's nest and he was just going to point that out. Guess you will never know.

You shyly smile at each other before going about following the instructions. Your half-read document gets stuffed back into its bag, to be read once you have no distractions in the form of eye candy armed with saccharine speech. Well, you have Jake to distract you plenty, but you can shoo him away by threatening his paycheck. 

As the flight descends, you look over to your neighbor - one last time, you guess - and surprisingly lock eyes with him. Anything that had exited you comes rushing back, veins in full alertness. A moment’s awkwardness later you both burst out laughing, each doing their best to hide their crimson cheeks. You find one more online fact to be true - Jungkook’s peak happiness laughter, eye crinkle and nose scrunch, can melt your whole entire heart. 

“Hey mami, come here often?”

“For the last time Jake, I will not hesitate to donate your bones for science.”

“Well, I heard bone, it's already a win for me.”

You let out a sigh of exasperation. There is no reforming him. 

“How was the flight?” Jake questions as you approach the baggage belt. Looking out for your somber black suitcase, you try to play it off like you did not spend the whole time in the company of a stranger who is on the fast track to your heart.

“The usual. Sleep, eat, read needlessly printed out documents that could have been shoved into on email, repeat. What about you?”

As Jake starts an account of his flight experience in exorbitant detail, you took the opportunity to try and find your ride. Once you locate it and get in, you catch the end of his sermon. 

“-and the name of the book will be ‘How to manage a farm - ‘cause chicks gon’ be crazy!’. What do you think?”

“I think it was a good idea I chose to zone out.”

“Y/N come on! It’s a self-help book for poor souls born without my raw charisma. Men and women out there want me, but I can’t satisfy them all. I will just resort to making more of me! It will have pointers, DIY’s and pick-up lines crafted by yours truly - wanna hear one?”

You throw your bag in front and turn to him. “Do I have a choice? Go ahead.”

Grinning like a Cheshire cat, he starts. “Am I cute? Squish my cheeks. Am I hot? Clap my cheeks.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Points for creativity. You’ll still get wine splashed at you.”

Jake was not one to give up. “‘It’s good we don’t need eye condoms, or you’d be on your way to delivery.’”

“Just… don’t have kids, okay? This gene must be stopped, right here.”

“Okay, this one is my all-time favorite. ‘Rack so big, I don’t motorboat, I motorship.’”

That’s it. The guffaw itching you since the start of this conversation is out of its cages, populating the air in the car. Wiping stray tears from your face, you face Jake, seeming very pleased with himself. Undoubtedly, he is coming up with absurd scenarios to ease your nerves. No book is in the works (one could only hope).

“Thank you, I feel much better now. You can stop coming up with these.”

The goof has the gall to look appalled. “I was going to cut you ten percent of my book commission but I guess that’s out. Hmph.”

“I’m at the receiving end of all these pick-up lines. I should make twenty at least for all the nuisance I’ve put up with.” 

“All right mami, we’ll shelve this for later. Here’s the schedule for today. You have a 10 a.m. breakfast meeting with Dr. Park Shin Young, Lead Research Scientist of the project. Then you have a bunch of seminars to attend, which will go on all afternoon. There’s a bar right beside this venue.”

“How is that pertinent?”

“So you know where to find me.” He continues, unperturbed. “After which there’s an evening meeting with the whole team to demonstrate the product and a marketing meeting right after.”

“Am I required for the marketing meeting?” Your expertise is limited to the technical field. PR work isn’t your cup of tea, but they stubbornly demand your presence. 

Jake exhales. “We’ve been through this. You CAN doze off during the meeting, but you have to be there. Just pretend you’re a college student, sitting in one class, completing assignments for another.”

“But if I’m there I feel the need to pay attention.” you whine.

“Clearly you weren’t one of those college students,” Jake says, perusing through his diary, “Stop being a pedant and do one of those things people do. Loving their jobs and whatnot.”

Before you can retort a reply, the driver pulls up to your destination and you exit the car. 

Eleven at night is when you finally check in to the hotel. The tedious day warrants your heels coming off before you even reach your floor. There’s an irritant drumming, from the balls of your feet right up to your temples, that beg for your attention. Setting your footwear on your bags, you massage your feet for temporary relief as the lift took you closer to a more permanent one.

Once your suitcase gets parked in the closet, you head to the bathroom to soak your day away with the bath bomb kit you were gifted in one of the seminars. The ball fizzles as soon as it hits the water, dispersing in tiny bubbles and a heady aroma of vanilla and lavender. The soft amber tones of the walls, the lambent gold lighting, and the ambrosial air put all your senses at ease. You sink in; the bathwater permeating warmth through your skin. Crackling bubbles with every move; the water teases your neck, soothing the laceration with every lick. Every pulse point on you is enhanced - you let yourself float wherever your mind takes you. 

A familiar face makes its presence known. You allow yourself to think about him, after pushing his visage away all day. Something about him… felt like home. Soothing, comforting, always speaking in dulcet tones unless something humorous pulled out a loud laugh. Even that wasn’t jarring; it was the exact opposite. Felt like sunshine filled your lungs every time he cracked up. Made you want to keep talking to him, keep him amused and entertained. You can’t imagine he converses with every stranger like that. 

But maybe he did; maybe this is some unspoken celebrity culture you were unaware of. 

All you know is that this was a once in a lifetime experience. There’s no way you are encountering another personage ever again. There’s no way you’re encountering him again. Luck can only thrive so far. 

So when you exit the bathroom, clad in a towel, remnant bathwater dripping from every end, the last thing you expect is Jungkook, spread out on the bed, casually flipping through his phone like it’s his own abode. 

“J-Jungkook?”

Y/N. In his room. In a towel. Dripping wet hair. Emanating a delectable aroma. 

Y/N. In person.

He is dreaming. He has to be. He's been thinking of you ever since the flight, so now he is delusional. Nothing else. There’s absolutely no chance that you’re in his room, let alone… like this. 

Right?

“What are you… what are you doing in my room?”

Wrong. 

Jungkook knows he should say something. He should not be gawking at you like he is doing now. But God. You look so pretty, eyebrows arched up in confusion, jaw about to be unhinged, hands fluttering around not knowing what to do. 

He forces his body to action.

"Y/N!" He exclaims, finally averting his eyes to face the wall. 

Pause.

"Wait, what do you mean MY room? This is my room!"

You’re baffled. "Huh? How is that possible? This was given to me!" 

“I really don’t know, Y/N, there must have been some confusion! Please, you have to believe me!” 

Jungkook wants to turn around and face you. He desperately wants to clear the air. He can see that this looks bad. He obviously looks like an enamored creep, waltzing into your space. You probably think he does this all the time. Many a time people have misunderstood him, his celebrity status not earning him many points. You must think the same.

And now you’re going to tell him to get out and never see you again, he hypothesizes. His brain is working overtime trying to remedy the situation, without noticing your now relaxing demeanor. 

“Oh, okay.”

“I’ll fix this, I’ll go to the reception and fix this. You don’t worry, I didn’t see anything, you can trust me, I’ll go an-”

“Hey, hey,” your tone gentle, “it’s okay, trust me. Just, let me get dressed and I’ll come down with you.”

Your soothing response almost has Jungkook on his knees. Whoever orchestrated this meet, he is just thankful for this good turn. Anyone else would go berserk, and rightfully so. 

But you’re not anyone else. 

He isn’t just anyone.  

Technically, he isn’t a stranger, you try to justify. You should have been more shocked, enraged, or at least doubtful of his intentions. But you weren’t. You had accepted his explanation, let him stay in your room while you changed in the bathroom, and now are en-route to the main desk to rectify this error.

The air around you two is strained; he won’t even look you in the eye. Any question you have is replied to concisely, leaving no room for a chat. Nothing to disperse the tension between you two. 

Like now, in the elevator, Jungkook has done the math and maintains the maximum distance between you. Opposite ends of the diagonal of this lift, his peripheral vision probably barely picks you up. However, his evasion helps in a way--you are able to study his full form.

He is dressed casually, and any lesser man would have seemed casual enough. On him, it is a whole new game. Ripped jeans hugging his sturdy legs, the slashed fabric allowing you a peek of his dangerous thighs. A plain white t-shirt tucked in to show off his lean waistline. The only thing holding you back from having a full-blown wet dream, wide awake, is his chestnut overcoat, saving his modesty and yours. 

Jake was right, eye condoms are the need of the century. 

To be fair, Jungkook had the worse end. He saw you scantily clad, post-bath glow and everything. You wonder what is going through his mind. 

Definitely nothing like the debauchery unfolding in yours. 

He has probably seen his fair share of women, and one hot to trot lady isn’t anything new. If anything, him dodging you is a sign of his civility, something you are lacking apparently--ready to jump his bones.

Stop thinking about his thighs, you whore. Get back home and trusty old Vlad the Impaler will take care of you.

The employee’s jaw almost hits the desk as Jungkook explains the situation. 

“Ma’am, Sir, we are extremely sorry about this confusion. We usually keep another key for family members, but somehow you got them both. We are deeply apologetic.”

“Yes, it’s okay, I’d just like my room key now and-”

“We will give you the best of our service to make up for this disorder. Not that we didn’t plan on giving you the best anyway, but now it will be top-notch! Please allow us to have your room cleaned again ma’am. Kyuyoung-ah! Get the people to prep 5338 and set 5337 again, and add more flowers!”

“Hey, that really won’t be necessary, we can just go back and forget about all thi-”

“And!” She continues, relentless, fully intent on doing her job, “Here are coupons for our round the clock pub! The ambiance is phenomenal, and our bartender makes a mean drink! You can use the facility for free during your stay. Hope this compensates for our gaffe. Once again, we are extremely sorry!”

She extends two passport-sized coupons that you hurriedly grab, wanting this quandary to end. 

The walk back to the elevator is less tight-lipped, only because Jungkook starts his deluge of apologies. Even though you had felt the same way on the flight, he was going overboard. You quickly assuage him and deflect his concerns.

“It’s okay, Jungkook. It really is. I know it was a mistake.”

“I know, but I shouldn’t have just walked in like that. I should have checked.”

Your expression is the visual form of a question mark. 

“Do you go around making sure your hotel room doesn’t have a surprise occupant?”

You’re taking this too lightly; it's obvious you are doing it for him. He can only laugh, broad delicious shoulders loosening in relief.

After a delay, you add, “You can’t help it if fate wants us crossing paths like this.” 

The quip makes Jungkook lose a beat. He cocks a brow in surprise - at that juncture, his features lose all boyish charm and turn unquestionably irresistible. 

Then, in a flash, the expression is replaced by his usual grin, back to his boy-next-door spirit. Are there world records for this speed? Jungkook needs to sign up to one.

Collecting the stars floating around your head, you return the favor, thankful that the barrier is now broken. 

After a quick break of courage gathering, you turn to him. “How come you’re staying in this hotel? Thought you’d be home.”

A thought is building in your mind; that this is too personal a question. But before you can take it back, you hear a chime. Jungkook moves. And somehow, you are moving with him. 

The elevator door opens, and people walk out. 

But that’s not where your attention is. 

You are focused on the sole patch of your body in contact with Jungkook’s arm. 

The palm of his hand sitting at the small of your waist is what had guided you away from the elevator. Even through the fabric of your t-shirt, his hand is sending goosebumps all over your body. The air feels twenty degrees too hot for you.

Jungkook is simply being his chivalrous self, while you are ready to get arrested for public nudity.

Woman, you are a disgrace. Get laid.

Jungkook will high five himself once he gets to his pad. 

Is it right to get so euphoric about the smallest act of intimacy? That too with a near stranger? He has no answer. You are special to him; that much he knows. And someone up there agrees with him as well, letting him run into you again (albeit under crude circumstances; he’ll take what he gets). In this proximity, he can hear the slight gasp that escapes you once you recognize his hold, feel your muscles tense, smell the flowery fragrance you still carry. The fragrance that takes his mind on a rewind routine; one he forces to a halt. He feels lewd for taking pleasure in that misfortune, but he can take pleasure in the present. 

Entering the elevator, Jungkook has taken note of one thing: the roles have been reversed. On the downward voyage, it had been him avoiding you. Now, even with the closeness, you refuse to meet his eye. Something on the carpeted floor has your unrelenting attention. Letting his gaze dip to you, he bit back a smirk. Good to know you are as affected by him as he is by you.

“It’s a shoot.” 

You relent, looking up to him. “Huh?”

“You asked me why I’m here, it’s a shoot. The site is close by, so we don’t waste time traveling. Once the shoot is done, we will get back home.”

“Ah, that makes sense.” 

You beg your grey matter to find some topic of conversation to halt the blood rushing to your cheeks. The atmosphere is frozen again, but not like last time. Any unease earlier present has drifted. The tension that once kept you from closeness now keeps you from moving apart. His hand sits unmoved, continuing to rest on your hip. Jungkook can hear the loud thudding of a heartbeat, but he cannot discern whether they are from his heart or from yours.

Continuing after a pause, “I will be here for a few days now.” he adds, the suggestive hint of the words masked by his innocuous smile. 

“Ah.” You lamely add. You ought to kick yourself - but at this closeness, you might hit him too. 

The span of your separation is contracting, even though none of you move. Like the land underneath you is shifting, because even Mother Earth can’t handle the sexual tension in this confined space. 

“Ma’am, Sir, you’re here!” 

The booming voice of an employee disrupts the scene. You jump, wondering how you didn’t hear the door open, while Jungkook takes a graceful step back unscathed. 

“Your rooms are ready, please follow me.”

The walk back is quiet, except for bashfully exchanged glances and racing pulses. When you finally reach your respective rooms, he speaks again. 

“Want to accidentally cross paths with me at the bar?”

The heat reaches your ears. A moment of silence prompts you to look up, and you are held hostage by his eyes. His gaze flickers, intense and probing. Then, as if it never happened, his eyes narrow and his smile softens, harmless and easy. Again, this has to be witchcraft.

“Maybe we’ll let destiny decide. Hasn’t failed us so far.” 

Now, alone in bed with nothing but your thoughts, you wonder when it will ever happen again.

Three days. Three days before it happens again.

Three days filled with conferences, a ton of files, and a lot of battery acid disguised as coffee. Apart from the success of your work, the highlight of your time is when Jake tried to fix his shoe heel at a meeting and ended up gluing his fingers together. In a quiet room filled with immersed employees, he had yelled, “Superglue, my ass!”. 

The punctuation was not vocalized. 

Tonight was your last night in Seoul. It was supposed to be a night to yourself, but an office party pulled you out of your cavern to get dressed. You put on an elegant dress, a black and silver number, only to find the ‘party’ was the most monotonous excuse of networking. High-end businessmen exchanging cards over non-alcoholic fizz was not your idea of a party, so you quickly excused yourself. 

The coupon still weighed heavy in your purse, carrying memoirs of the last time you saw him. You had wanted to go earlier, but always held yourself back. What if he wasn’t there? What if you missed your chance? Why did you have to sashay away with a cool statement that night instead of clawing your way through the lust-filled air and settling things then and there? 

You supposed a drink at the hotel bar on your last night couldn’t be a bad thing, even if Jungkook didn’t show up.

So here you are, sipping on your wine and trying to appear nonchalant as you look out the window overseeing the city’s skyline. One ear is trained to the door of the pub, the slightest peep from that corner alerting your antenna. 

So far, no sign of him. 

This won’t work, you tell yourself. Second time’s a charm, third time’s pushing it too far. 

But as you wave the bartender to top up your drink, the corner of your eye catches movement; one, two, three heads appear through the door. Signature multichromatic mops of hair make their way in, forcing your pulse to marathon mode. 

And then you hear it. 

You hear his trademark cachinnate echoing through the structure. Multitudes of contrasting sentiments fill your gut. Are you sensing relief, that fate served its purpose without fail? Or is it the anticipation of how events will unfold? A sense of titillation, that a three-day old bond makes you feel more than year-old relationships you’ve had? You pry your eyes from that direction, trying to appear aloof when you are anything but. 

When you think you’ve gathered your composure, you look up. Like a hare falling for its bait, you are trapped, because he is looking right back at you.

Jin and Jimin are laughing about something that happened on set today, but Jungkook only has eyes for you. He can’t believe his luck. 

The past few days, his schedule had no give. After every shoot, the only thing he remembered was taking off his shoes and falling into a deep slumber.

So today when the shoot wrapped up earlier, Jungkook grabbed his trusty wingmen and open bar enthusiasts to utilize his coupon, and possibly test his kismet.

“Wasn’t she on our flight?” Jin observes, tracking Jungkook’s sight. 

“Oh yeah! Dude, is she the one?” Jimin keenly notes. “How do you keep bumping into each other like this?”

Jungkook downs his whisky, the burn felt from the throat to his diaphragm. “I don’t know, hyung. I don’t know what to do.” Beckoning the bartender for a refill, he tears away from your sight. 

 “Okay, liquid fortification is all good but how about,” Jin stops briefly to pluck the coupon out of Jungkook’s hands, “we handle the drinks department while you attend to her?”

Jimin nods in assent. “The worst thing you could do is spend time with her slurring and garbling while she ditches your sorry ass.”

“Hey! I won’t do that. Just, ” Jungkook gulps, “I don’t know... We’ve met like, hardly a few times. It really doesn’t make sense. What if we’re not on the same page?”

Jimin frowns, and even Jin seems unhappy with his reasoning.

��Things don’t have to make sense. You’re two consenting adults. You like her. By the way she’s eyeing you right now, I’m sure the feeling is mutual. You said it’s easy to talk to her right?”

Jungkook pouts, but sees his point.

“Then go with that. Don’t chart out a plan, just go with your heart.” Jin adopts a soft smile of encouragement. 

“Meanwhile we will grab the others and exploit this coupon to the full extent!” Jimin gleefully appends.

Jungkook’s eyes crinkle as he laughs with the other two. They are right. Carpe diem, right?

Finding you again, his breath hitches. You look beautiful. The sleek black dress with silver embellishments over the torso. It hugs you in the right places, accentuating your already alluring frame. Your shoulders bare, elegant collarbones waiting to be tasted. Hair tied up, exposing the delicious curve of your neck, a stretch Jungkook wants to pepper kisses onto, without missing a spot. You look exquisite against the backdrop of the night.

Carpe noctem it is. 

“Did you really dress up to use the coupon?” The tongue-in-cheek query breaking your line of thought.

A breathy chuckle leaves your lips, hopefully masking the frenzy in your heart. 

“I had a party. A very dull party. Figured I preferred my own company over that.” 

“Do you prefer your own company over mine?”

He’s still standing, tall frame waiting for your permission to occupy the next seat. God, he looks amazing.

“Not at all.” The words leave huskier than you intend, but they convey the message.

He takes the seat, a mere step away, his cologne wafting over to your side. The alcohol buzz makes the scent feel stronger, every bone in you wanting to dive in nose-first. 

Apparently you have been staring, because he nervously chuckles “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Should you go the modest route or fuck it?

Fuck it.

“You look... great today,” is all you get out. Stupid brain spewing half-baked goods.

Understatement of the year. He looks like sin incarnate. All black attire highlighting his golden skin, the dichotomy of his whole look has you understandably tongue-tied. Black jeans - no rips, sadly- with a dark grey high-neck t-shirt, tucked in of course, because pain is the only constant for you. A black trench coat is thrown on top to seal the look. The obsidian outfit sends desperate need through your body, an intense desire to rip it all off surging through you. Somehow, through all these layers you can sense his fit body, his rippled muscles, his sturdy pecs, like they have an aura of their own. 

“Ah, thank you. You look amazing as well.” Halting a moment to sip his drink, he resumes.  “Sucks that you dressed up for nothing.”

“Well, you liked it. So it's not for nothing.”

If looks were potent, Jungkook’s own could set you on fire. Gaze coolly raking over your figure, the tick in his jaw betrays his reaction. A chill passes through every part of your body under his intense scrutiny.

“Are there other things you would wear… if I liked it?” He carefully treads.

“There are certain things I’m wearing right now that I’m sure you would appreciate.” 

If not for the shrinking distance between you two, you couldn’t have caught the low hiss. His animalistic need, usually kept well under control, is raging against its bonds, screaming to let go. Your exquisite gown, flowing down your curves, accentuating the swell of your ass - God save this dress from his feral hands. Against his will, he restrains himself. He would make this a lasting encounter. 

“How many drinks have you had?” He needs you to remember every single moment.

“Two glasses of wine, don’t worry. You?” 

“A shot of whisky, that’s all. Haven’t even finished my second drink.”

Gone were his cherubic appearance and dimpled smiles; the man in front of you is oozing pure sex appeal. His clenched jawline, furrowed brow, and perfectly placed tresses add to his raw masculinity. The cusp of your thighs is damp; if this is his effect here, what will it be behind locked doors? You wonder whether this is the same man that gushed about old-era video games in the flight. 

“Well, if you are wearing them for me, I’d be a fool to miss them.” he brings you back to the present. Twinkling eyes match your eager ones as you give a small nod.

Every step you take shoots a thrilling tingle through your spine. Every inch of distance closed forces you to close the next with doubled speed. Every foot forward adds to the thick air, laced with hunger, desire, and an inordinate amount of trust placed in the hands of a stranger. 

The first time you two walked back to the elevator, his move had caught you unaware. 

Now, the arm wraps around your entire waist, body flush against his, yet you yearn to get closer. 

Last time, you couldn’t match his gaze, skin burnt a crimson hue. 

Now, your eyes are locked together, any movement in your surroundings be damned.

Michael Jackson rising from the dead and performing Thriller wouldn’t tear you away from your current view (sorry MJ, maybe next time).

When the doors close, he places a palm on your bare back, bringing you to his chest.

“I’ve wanted this so bad, ever since I met you. It’s insane.”

The hand caressing your back makes you sigh. “Not if I wanted the same.”

His grip tightens. “The things I want to do to you...” eyes searching yours, ”tell me you can handle it.”

“Oh baby,” you drawl, “I’ll do whatever you want. Whatever it is,” your lips hover on his, “I can take it.”

The elevator doors opened too soon for your liking, and Jungkook drags you through the corridor. You’re practically hanging on to him, feet barely responsive, the faint buzz of wine making you giddy. His hawkish gaze soaks in everything you do, memorizing every response to his touch. 

You lean over to lay wet kisses on his neck. Pleasure searing through his veins, Jungkook’s knees almost buckle. He pushes you against a wall and locks you in with his form.

“Uh-uh-uh, honey,” he tsks, “you’re not making this easy on me?”

You pretend to ponder. “Well, I didn’t plan on making it easy.”

He smirks, all sex, and the wetness between your legs is making its presence known. Leaning into your ear, he whispers, “Unless you want me to have my way with you right here…” and all your brattiness dissipates. 

Satisfied, he grins. “Your place or mine?” 

“Hmmn, depends.”

He cocks a brow. “On?”

“Am I gonna be able to walk tomorrow?”

That damned smirk. “Your place it is.”

Jungkook’s lips are on yours the moment your door is locked. He cages you against its frame, teeth clashing and biting anything they find. You let your hands roam all over, searching for something to hold on to. A throaty sound leaves Jungkook when your digits card through his hair and tug on it, a sound you gladly swallow.

Time seems to have taken a break. Your thoughts are blank. You chase the kiss like it's the only thing you know, the only thing you’re born to do, your sole mission in life before you die. The bruising pace Jungkook set is eagerly matched by you. Gravity is slowly losing its meaning, and you’re nothing but a stray entity floating in space. And this kiss is your only source of air. 

Jungkook pulls you towards him, closing the nonexistent distance between you. Heat rises from his chest, the feeling is hypnotic beyond reason. A taste of you has ruined every other flavor. He kept his eyes half-open, sneaking peeks at your flushed face whenever you come for air. His fingers explored your body, grabbing your ass and pulling you into him. Your clothed crevice jolts at the friction, hips hounding for more.

The moan that leaves you gets muted, because Jungkook takes this opportunity to take control. Tongue forcing its way in to explore every corner of your mouth, it melds with your own muscle. If this were a dance, it would be a fierce tango, oozing with sexual tension. Breathing is now trivial, this kiss is imperative. 

Jungkook’s hands grab your hips and twirl you, both of you now facing a full-length mirror. You can witness your neckline being abused, mulberry blossoms left in place. The sight has your sex clenching, and lips liberated, you couldn’t stop yourself from mewling.

“Fuck, Y/N. I’m going to make you scream so loud, the hotel reception will hear you.”

With your head spinning in lust, you try to form your words right. “An- And what? Discuss how a second room for you was - oh god - was useless?” 

Jungkook pauses to admire his craft; your neck, shoulders, and collar are now littered with bruises, like a garden of hyacinth at his disposal. The view is maddening, your lusty gaze locked on to him in the mirror. His mane is tousled, no doubt your handiwork, and his hand is tracing the outline of your dress. 

“That cursed day,” He chokes out, “You were so fucking hard to resist you know?”

You turn back to face him, hand reaching back to undo your halter neck, “You have me now.” Stepping back, you let your gown fall.

He froze. You are standing in front of him, robed in only your black lace-embroidered strapless bra, and matching panties, each adorned with a white bow. The swell of your breasts barely caged in the cups, making Jungkook drool at sight. All the wind was knocked out of his lungs; you look like a prisoner’s last meal, waiting to be devoured. 

“On your knees.” he commands.  

Not a second is put to waste. You begin undressing him, unbuckling the pants and aggressively pulling them down. Next come the boxers, and you are faced with-

Wow.

You mean this in the nicest way, but, what a dick.

He is already hard, the mushroomed tip angry and red, leaking a drop of precum begging to be tasted. The girth exceeds your expectation, already visualizing the delicious visual of your cunt stretched thin. He is going to reach places even Vlad the Impaler couldn’t; you are already brimming with anticipation for the final act.

And his thighs. Nothing angelic about them. Taut. Muscular. Sinewy. Something uncivilized in you wants them to trap your frame between them, caging you, pinning you down. You press kisses on his inner thigh, letting your tongue poke out when you hear him exhale. A sharp bite shocks Jungkook, but you only smirk.

“Wanted to do that since I saw you.” 

The stare that meets you is practically challenging you to try that again, and perhaps reap some delicious consequences.

You bring yourself back, giving his cock the full attention that it deserves. Looking up, you see his half-lidded eyes, assertive and arresting, compelling you to go on. 

You bring your palm up to him. He raised a brow in question.

“Spit for me.”

Jungkook almost busts his load when he hears you. “Fuck, so dirty.” he garbles out. Rolling his neck in an attempt to divert his blood, he takes your hand and drops a thick glob at the center of your palm. 

A throaty moan arises from you, and his dick is harder than ever.

“Go on baby, show me you can suck dick like a champ.”

You give him a confident look; you’re about to rock his world. Starting with small licks, you tease the slit and taste the pre-cum lodged in it. Meanwhile, you work the spit along the shaft; you spit on it again, the original amount insufficient to cover the length. You can feel his dick twitching against your attention, eager to be sheathed. Interspersing with some long drags on the underside, you zero in on the pinched skin under the head. 

Jungkook is staring at your jerking him off. The sight of you, clad in lingerie is blowing his mind. If that was not enough, the mirror in front is providing a sumptuous secondary perspective. The smooth stretch of your back, the swell of your ass, the panty fabric barely able to cover the expanse, everything on you is making him short circuit. Seeing you on your knees, your deferential nature stirs something in him. If he doesn’t control himself, he will bend you in half and ride you to sunrise. He doesn’t want to scare you, but fuck, his depraved early man instincts are telling him otherwise. 

“What are you- ohhh, holy shi-”

Instead of slipping his cock fully into your mouth, you hold it up, and pay careful attention to his balls. Jungkook’s hands come to rest on your head, a telltale sign of his unraveling. With a smile, you let your tongue swipe through every nook and corner till they are coated in saliva.

“You think you’re such a fucking tease, ” He grabs you by your now unraveled tresses and pulls you back, “Ease up baby, your throat is in for a treat.”

In one quick swoop, he lodges himself at the base of your throat, provoking your gag reflex, but you restrain the urge to pull back. Breathing through your nose, you suck and swallow whatever you can; his girth isn't giving you much to work with.

Jungkook growls. “Such a tight fit. Like you’re meant to be like this. Forever.”

The last word slips out unwittingly. 

Alarmed, his eyes flit down to gauge your response, but all you are doing is looking back at him. 

Fuck, your dovelike eyes are captivating. They look so angelic, a complete contrast to the perverse posture you are in. Not an ounce of displeasure in response to his words. Pure, unadulterated affection for him. Only for him. 

“God, you’re going to be the death of me.” Jungkook husks. “You’ll do anything for me, you said?”

Muffled whimpers impart your compliance, and you bob your head up and down for good measure. The tip of his cock hits every ridge of your throat, the vibration releasing more fluid down.

“Pleasure yourself, baby. Touch yourself, but don’t you cum.”

Your brow distresses further, a disgruntled whine leaving you and reverberating around him. Already so turned on, the lightest friction would make you combust.

Jungkook’s teeth clench. “Edge yourself for me, sweetie.” 

It's like your body is tuned to his command. Slipping two fingers under the band, you part and slide them on either side of your throbbing nub. Despite you avoiding any pressure point that might push you over the edge, the pleasure threatens to tip you over. 

You look over for his approval. Swallowing, he nods. Your self-stimulation is making him dizzy. It's time to get serious.

“Such a good girl. Don’t stop, okay? I’m going to fuck your throat raw.” Starting with mellow jerks, “Hope you don’t have to speak anytime tomorrow.” he rasps.

The carpeted floor grazing your knees only adds to the revelry. You’re not in control of yourself anymore. The back of your gullet is aching as Jungkook shoves into you again and again. An amalgamation of his salty juices and your dribble lewdly coats your chin and neck; you must look ravished. Everything with Jungkook feels augmented; every single motion of his making your sex clench. 

He is close - you can feel his grip on your hair tightening. 

“Can I cum on you?” words slither through his clamped teeth. You frantically nod. 

With a loud grunt, he pulls you off and releases all over your chest, a stray pump landing on your chin. Thick liquid, dripping from your jaw onto your collarbones and breasts, the whole scene is filthy good. Your unfilled cunt is aching to be replete with the cum. 

Post-orgasmic glow is dazzling on him--hair drenched in sweat, tufts sticking to his forehead. His breathing is heavy and resonant as dilated pupils take in your soaked state. Bending down, he crooks a finger under your chin, anchoring his attention on your dewy stare. The onyx embers in his eyes bore into yours, studying for any hesitation in them. A microscopic moment of tenderness, unspoken words exchange between you. 

Satisfied to find only searing hunger, his digits collect the beads of cum on your jaw, pushing them back into your mouth. Your eyes roll skyward, relishing the briny taste, nearly asking him to do it again. Leaning further, he grabs the wrist of your hand that is thoughtlessly rubbing your sex - you didn’t even realize you were still doing it. You feel drained, like you orgasmed vicariously through him. 

“My turn.” He wears a devilish expression on his archangel eyes.

Lips connect once again as he pulls you up. If he tastes himself, he is relishing it, with his tongue exploring the deep cavern. With wobbly ankles, you let him guide you to your bed, dropping on your back. He follows you, pouncing on you, plunging into your mouth again like a beast hungered. Bodies melting together like an icicle under the summer blaze, your hands hunt to frisk his skin. Realizing he is yet to undress, you yank at this t-shirt, attempting to liberate him from the offending fabric.

“Tsk, greedy.” he bit your ear, soothing the sting with a kiss. 

“Cruel is what it is.” You huff, like everything he’s doing is not a blissful affair. 

How do men do that? Violently ripping their shirt off and leaving a messy mop of hair in its wake, nevertheless looking like they could walk a runway the next instant. Jungkook was no exception. The moment he pulls his shirt off, you are rendered speechless.

Chiseled chest like the work of an artisan. Droplets of sweat race down the paths traced by the sculpted abs, an intense desire to taste them forming in you. He is a mesomorphic dream who puts Greek gods to shame. Swallowing, you let your hand trace the outline of his pecks, feeling him shudder against your touch.

“Jungkook, please.”

Who was he to deny you?

Leaning up to you with a wicked smirk, Jungkook drops a thick line of spit right on your hardened nipple. The concoction of his cum and spit soaks through the lacy material. A lone finger circles, avoiding the spot that requires the most attention. You arch your back, begging him for more, just more of anything. The wet fabric amplifies the emptiness in your cunt. 

“Aww,” he coos, clearly amused by your neediness, “undo this for me, sweetness. Let me see you.”

Moving at lightning speed, you unhook the bra, swinging it away to a corner of the room. 

“Oh no.” He mock-frowns, veins bulging on his arm as he controls himself. “Look at these tits, fuck.” Mind reeling with ideas, filthy ideas, of all the things he wants to do to you. “You’ve ruined everything else for me.”

You tremble. “Good, so have you. Want you for myself. Want you,” pulling him close, “to do your worst.” you end with a whisper.

Jungkook’s jaw tightens. “Careful what you ask for,” he grits before diving headfirst into your bosom. 

He licks and laves and bites and laps--your breasts are on fire. Continuing his marking spree, new blemishes make an appearance on your torso. Nibbling on one nipple, he pinches the other; pulling moan after moan from you. 

Your hips barely touch the bed, bucking up in response to Jungkook’s sinking teeth into your ample bust. He has decided to not leave an inch without his saliva, and like a man on a mission, covers every part with rapt attention. 

“Yo- You don’t have to--oh holy fuck--you don’t have to, cover me in marks you kno--ohh my go-” The sentence is spastic, piercing mewls breaking your flow of speech and thought. 

“These fucking tits,” roughly clasping your pert breast in his large palm, “they look so much better like this.” The proud smile he shows has not the slightest hint of regret. 

Catching a break, he twiddles your nipples, letting his other hand sit on your covered sex. He is teasing you; you recognize that. Just giving you opportunities to disobey, to take all the pain he has to offer.

It’s a good thing you like the pain.

You slowly roll your hips, trying to grind against his palm, taking whatever help you can get.

A sharp smack lands on your clit, shooting your eyes open - you don’t even know when they closed. Jungkook’s hand is soothing the site of the blow, the pain converting to pleasure under his touch. 

“Patience, sweetness,” the gravely whisper sending tingles down your spine, “such a good girl for me.”

You give him a slight nod - he smacks you again, once, twice, thrice, without a break. Your entrance is smarting, but you want to give him everything. Biting your lips to stop the labored moans escaping, you clench your eyes and savor the burn.

Your show of obedience has Jungkook’s heart thronging. Fuck, he was enjoying toying with you. Playing you like a fiddle. You produce every tone he desires in the form of wanton melodies, he wants to play them over and over again like his favorite song.

“How are we doing?” he asks, a shit-eating grin plastered on him. Before you could answer, his fingers shallowly enter your soaked pussy, still hampered by the cloth. 

“You- fuck, you said I was the tease here?” Your hands are at his wrist, begging to pull the scrap of cloth aside and have his way. 

He comes to face your sopping mound, pausing only to speak “Never said I wasn’t,” and starts pressing soft, feathery kisses. “That day, seeing you dripping in that towel, I dreamt of having these legs around me.”

“I swear, at least take it off - oh Jungkoo-”

Without warning, he kneads your ass and pushes you into his face. 

You feel like you’ve been on the edge for hours. The suckle on your engorged clit along with the abrasion of the lace gets you so close. So damn close. So, so clo-

The tightness in your belly finally snaps and you howl, gushing your vat of arousal onto his face. The high was more intense than you had imagined, so high that you wonder if you will ever find your way back to reality. You feel like a rock in space, aimlessly floating in the vast nothingness.

You dimly notice Jungkook toying with the lacy hem of your panties, pulling it back to snap it against your hip. The sting is soon forgotten, along with your panties flung across the bed, as he parks himself back between your legs.

“You smell incredible.” He approves, taking a long whiff of your honeyed center. “Look at you, so messy.” He licks a long stripe along your crease. “Messy girl, I should clean you up.”

“Wait Jungkook-” you oppose, lids heaving in pleasure. “I need you inside me, please. I can’t take -oof”

Gnawing at your sodden folds, he let his nose press against your clit. “You’re so fucking tight, you think you can take me?” He shakes his head. “Gotta stretch you out, gotta make me fit.” He presses his tongue against your nub, feeling it throb in anticipation. “And I think you can give me one more.” He ends, before invading your drenched channel with two fingers. You are putting up with his torments the best you can; walls fluttering against his lips, legs entwined behind Jungkook’s back trapping him between your thighs. 

“Ah! God - I, I can’t-” Your eyes are screwed shut, hands bunching the sheets in your grasp.

His fingers fluctuate between scissoring motions, their lengths opening you up for him and curling inside, fingertips finding the rough patch inside. He adds a third finger, pussy straining to accommodate them all. Your thighs clench in the burn, and he groans into your pussy at the pressure. Increasing the pace, he pumps into you harder and faster, sucking your puffy lips in tandem. 

“Please, please, harder - let me cum - please oh go-” 

“Fuck yeah baby, your pussy is just sucking me in. You like that? You like me shoving into your cunt?”

“Uungh yes yes I love it!”

“Doesn’t it hurt? Or are you such a slut for pain? Tell me, tell me you’re a pain slut.”

“Fuck, Jungkook, don’t you stop- I am! I am a pain slut! Your pain slut!”

“Goood girrrll,” he husks out. Even though he is taking charge, your words are what control him. “Only mine. My pain slut will come for me now.”

A spray of cum ejects out of you, coating Jungkook’s chest and inundating your legs. The coherent part in you recognizes that you just squirted, but the neanderthal side shuts all recognition of anything that is not Jungkook’s cock. Even after two climaxes, you are hungry to get more. More of him. 

If you don’t fuck him now, you will lose your capability to reason. 

Limbs still heavy and reeling from the ravaging, you pick your pieces and drag Jungkook to the headboard. 

“I’m going to ride you.” you declare and straddle him. 

Jungkook is staring fixedly at your still-leaking cunt. Running his tongue over his lower lip, and licking the remnant syrup of your release. You position yourself, letting the drippage fall directly on his erection. He twitches, eyes still feasting on the mess you are making. 

Finding purchase on his shoulders, you lower yourself. Jungkook’s breath staggers as you drag your inner lips along his hard shaft. You repeat this motion till your fluids drip to his balls. 

“Y/N, I swear to God, if you don’t stop with this-”

“You’ll do what?” you challenge, an eyebrow raised in response to his threat. 

He grabs you by your waist, jerking you up before bringing you down on his dick. Your cunt, creamy from his earlier ministrations, gives no resistance to his hardness. His cock twitches inside as you bottom out. Pulling you closer, he bites your lip and tugs at it. 

“I’ll do this.”

A sharp spank makes you clench around him, the supple flesh of your ass ricocheting in response. 

“Go on baby, ride me.” 

The low-grained command sets you in motion. Slowly gyrating your hips, you feel every ridge of this length inside. Jungkook’s grip on your waist tightens, and you’re sure you will see evidence of it tomorrow. Your grasp on his shoulders isn’t faring any better. 

“You’re so tight, fuck, and so wet. Who made you like this, huh?” A second spank punctuating his question.

“Oh God, you-”, you barely manage to recognize your own voice, “You, Jungkook! Only you!” 

“That’s fucking right, only me.” 

Hips snapping, he meets you halfway. Both of you are lost in each other, lewd sounds of your skin slapping and juices quelching barely muffled by your desperate whines and moans of passion. Eyes locked in like magnets, neither of you could look away. 

Jungkook pulls back a little, slapping your jiggling tit. Your sex clenches, and the following slap has you lodging yourself in the crook of his neck, searching for a reprieve. 

“Want some help?”

One swift move and you are on your stomach, face pushed into a pillow, and ass out. A final spank lands right in the middle, and you can feel it pulsate everywhere. He pushes back into your glistening core, taking control of your pleasure and pain. One hand carding through the nape of your neck, pushing you down, the other hand grabbing your waist and setting the pace. The new angle hits deeper, you feel so full. 

“Jungkoo--unghh I need to cum! Need to- umph- cum so bad!” You are wailing at this point, shame lying somewhere near your flung clothes.

“Fuck, babe, me too. Go ahead and play with yourself, nice and slow.”

It takes a few swipes for the tightness in you to detonate. Tears flood your face as you unravel, your orgasm crashing into you like waves of a tsunami. You clench tight, wetness flows out of your hole as Jungkook pumps in and out, chasing his high. 

He comes undone soon after, ropes of his ejaculate filling your insides. He stays in, plugging you as if to not allow any of it out. But as his member softens, he gives in, turning you on your back to meet his face. 

Butterfly-soft kisses are exchanged after the blazing encounter. He asks you if you’re okay between breaths, a tender murmur you almost miss, as if you weren’t screaming your lungs out moments ago. Nuzzling into his neck, you confirm.

A snort disrupts the silence. Looking up, you see Jungkook chuckling.

In response to your cocked eyebrow, he says “Want to talk about what a freak you are?”

“Want to talk about what a hypocrite you are?”

“Hey, you asked me to spit on you!”

You mock-gasp, hand on chest for the extra effect. “My breasts need medical attention after your attention! Freak!” 

Laughter echoes in the room as you two tumble in the blankets, and you feel his release seeping out of you. Turning to him, you pout, “Your mess is leaking out of me.” 

Jungkook gets up to leave the bed, and you expect a wet towel coming your way. 

What you don’t expect is him parting your legs, gunmetal eyes following the rivulets escaping your abused hole. 

“Your cunt smells so good with my cum on it,” he purrs. 

He gathers the escaping thick liquid and pushes it back into your quivering core. 

Jolting with oversensitivity, you try to stall him but he is fingering you with a vengeance. The ache and soreness soon dispel, bringing forth a new wave of ecstasy. His unrelenting stare concentrates on the mix of fluids on his fingers. With a few strokes on your sensitive bundle of nerves and fingers stuffed inside, you come again, legs shivering and pussy overflowing, his juices intermingled with yours. 

You are dazed; you’ve lost track of everything. The room is spinning in front of you and your body feels like lead. All you can manage is to arch your neck, and plead, “No more, you freak.” 

Jungkook giggles, eyes crinkling in good humor. Ah, the duality of this man is a force to reckon with. You can’t believe this is the same man that fucked you into your bed like a primordial beast. There’s no way you can move anytime soon. 

After a clean-up interval, you are wrapped in each other's arms, melting into the embrace. His musky fragrance putting you at ease, you tuck your in the nook of his neck, basking in the aroma. Hands pressed against his broad chest, exuding warmth for you. His hand cradles your head, snuggling in closer till there is no space to cover. Sweet nothings whispered into each other’s lips, tender kisses exchanged in place of the scorching ones that had passed. You drift in and out of your slumber, fearing the sun would ascend too soon and break you apart. 

A dim glow from the other end of the bed wakes you up. On turning you find Jungkook, dressed in his now-wrinkled clothes, seated on the edge. His gaze, pensive. You lay a hand on his thigh.

“Oh, did the light wake you?”

The alarm on his face makes you smile. “No, your absence did.” 

The corners of his mouth turned up, eyeing you with softness. 

“I have an early schedule. I didn’t want to wake you, but, ” he lets his palm rest on yours, “I also didn’t want to leave without it.”

Neither of you know how to walk away from this. The silence is deafening, unuttered sentiments hanging in the still air. Jungkook’s chest is heavy. 

This is insane. He wants to lay you against a bed of flowers, treat you like the delicate petal you bear resemblance to, worship your body till the sun succumbs to your blazing passion. How is he to explain that his heart is beating through his chest for someone he knows for mere days? He rifles through his memories for a similar instance. 

He finds none. 

Maybe you don’t feel the same way. Maybe, you are blissfully unaware of the tumultuous emotions lurching in the pit of his belly. He can’t assume you will echo his lovesick needs, but he can’t let go. 

You inch closer. 

Fervid feelings die hard. He probes your eyes searching for an intensity matching his. 

You let your lips convey the answer.

Passionate as ever, you draw him into the kiss. His lashes flutter against your rosy cheeks. At the moment, there is no dominance in him. Almost like his tongue, dragging across your swollen lips, is healing the brutality of last night. If you pull back, he comes after you; an incessant tug of war no player wants to win. 

“Please Jungkook,” you choke between kisses, “Please tell me this isn’t the last of us.”

He is hovering on top of you, the galaxy in his eyes twinkling at your words. 

“Please, I don’t want this to end.” You continue against his lips. Head versus heart, you fought a losing battle; how were you to stall the inevitable? Fueled, you plunge your tongue into him, determined to make your ardor known. The void of ferocity is filled with slow sensuality; like he is the sole reservoir to quench your thirst. 

“Y/N”, he breathes out, “I feel like I know everything about you and nothing about you at the same time.” Resting your foreheads against one another, he continues. “I’m not about to let fate decide when we cross paths again.”

A grin finds your lips. “Destiny really pulled its weight here, didn’t it?”

He wordlessly nods, not wanting to break the tranquility in place. However, it is short-lived; his phone’s ringer makes sure of it. 

“Yeah, I’ll be right down.” Something the speaker says turns Jungkook scarlet red. “I said I’ll be right there!” he yells before ending the call.

“The members are asking why I wasn’t in my room.” he clarifies, waggling his brows.  You join his laughter, happy to have just the simple moment with him. 

After exchanging numbers (and a photo for keepsake), Jungkook presses one last kiss, lips promising to find each other again. Somehow, you don’t say goodbye. You just stare at his disappearing body, confident that the next encounter is not far. 

Jake is babbling about his night, how he managed to ditch the god-awful party and hang out with some overenthusiastic college-goers who paid for his drinks with their trust fund dough. This is usually the time you ask him if he’s proud of mooching off of children, but today his exaggerated narrative is cracking you up. 

His forehead creases. “What’s up with you today? You haven’t vowed to skin me alive even once.”

“You like it when I threaten bodily harm?”

“I’m kinky like that.”

You just shrug. Erotic images make a fleeting appearance in your mind, but they are interrupted by your flight announcement. 

“Aren’t you glad this is over? You can go back to overworking yourself in your office instead of a hotel!” Jake remarks, throwing his bag over his shoulder. “At least your back won’t break in the travel.”

Thinking over your experience in the city, you confess “Actually, I look forward to returning here.”

A thought slips in, curving your mouth into a smile. You quietly add,

“And yeah, my back was broken all right.”

Thank you for making it to the end! Please do let me know what you think!

[yoongsisbae]

Handshakes of a Lifetime - Chapter 5

You snag exclusive fan meet tickets, but as you shake hands with your favorite idols, something strange happens…

BTS soulmate AU. OT7 x Reader / Yoongi x Reader focused in this chapter, slight Jungkook x Reader

Here we gooooo. I have a special place in my heart for Yoongs, I think this might be my favorite handshake yet. Enjoy the craziness!

Warnings: death, blood, guns, stabbing, fighting, bondage, drunk sex, rough sex Yoongi and y/n are just two kinky idiots in love, ANGST so much angst why, let me know if I need to add more I know it’s dark.

Word Count: 10.6k

“So you think if I touched her, it would happen to me too? Is that why-” Taehyung turns to a defeated Jin.

“I don’t know.” He can’t stop thinking about you, his body hurts, his chest hurts.

“I want to try, this is so unfair.” Taehyung whines.

Namjoon sighs, “Well…”

You hear a knocking at the door. Your legs felt numb. How long have you been sitting here? You were too lost in your thoughts, reliving moments that weren’t yours.

“Hello? Unlock the door.”

You know that voice. No way.

You’ve listened to his solo songs on repeat so many times, his deep voice and sharp tongue playing in your ears for hours at times.

For lack of better judgment, you decide to stay silent. You slowly unlock the stall door trying not to make a sound as you tiptoe to the door. You rest your ear against the wood hoping to hear something. You consider maybe it was just another delusion. There is just no way.

“We know you’re in there.” You flinch from the door, the idol’s voice is as clear as day.

“I don’t know what happened, but I didn’t mean to do what you think I did..I-I don’t even know what I-I just want to go home. Please...” You put your palm on the door, a superficial gesture you know won’t make a difference, much like a nod to a person over the phone, and rest your head on the door waiting for his response. There is a long silence.

The weary idol stands in front of the bathroom door. He should have let Namjoon handle it, he thinks, why did he volunteer? When security came to tell them you had locked yourself in the bathroom, it brought up old memories he didn’t like thinking about, it made him want to help you. So before anyone else could, he volunteered to get you. But now he felt inadequately prepared, he should have just let Namjoon handle it.

He gestures to the security to give him some space. He rests his head on the door and sighs, instead of reaching for the door handle he rests his hand above it.

“Can I please come in? Open the door, it will just be me, I promise.” The idol switches to Korean, hoping you understand him. “I just want to talk to you. And then you can leave.” Actually, he doesn’t know if it will be that easy, but at this point he would tell you anything to get you to open the door.

He hears the slow scrape of metal as the lock turns. He gives security one last look to stay back before opening the door. You shuffle back quickly as the door opens and in walks Min Yoongi of BTS.

Yoongi shuts the door and locks it again. You try to give him space, but he advances towards you. So you keep giving him space and he puts his hand up in surrender, like someone would when approaching a scared animal.

“Hello.” He greets you in English. This was a bad idea.

“H-Hello.” You both face each other awkwardly.

This was the last thing you’d ever expect to happen, standing alone in a bathroom with BTS’s Suga. You feel like you’re burning up, you wonder how you haven’t managed to pass out as the rapper watches you in silence.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I freaked out. I’ll just go home, I promise I won’t ever talk about what happened. I-I mean, I don’t know what happened, nothing-“

“It will be okay. Breath.” He speaks in English to you again. “Take a deep breath. Count to ten.”

You’re shaking again. He’s being so nice to you, it makes you want to cry even more.

“C’mon, count.”

You start counting in shaky Korean, glancing over at the rapper who tries to hide a smile at the way you recite the words like a school child taking a test, you finish and feel like laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation, your own lips curving upward as you begin to relax.

“Do you understand me when I speak Korean?” Yoongi says in Korean. You nod.

“Do you understand me when I speak in English?” The rapper nods back. “Most of it, yes,” he confesses.

You stand there awkwardly too scared to speak, gripping the sink counter to steady yourself, your reflections stare back at you in the bathroom mirror. The rapper looks perfect in his button down and styled hair, you on the other hand-

You laugh, “Oh god, I look horrible.” You turn on the sink and splash cold water on your face to get rid of your dried tears.

“No you don’t.” The rapper leans on the counter looking at you, grabbing a paper towel to hand to you. He is making it very hard for you to pretend he’s not there.

You watch him through the mirror’s reflection, “Thank you.” The words barely come out of your mouth. You turn around and lean on the counter beside him, making sure to keep your distance. ‘This is the weirdest night of my life,’ you can’t help but let out a small laugh.

The two of you stand there next to each other in silence for a painfully long time.

Finally, Yoongi lifts his hand palm side up and gives you a sideways glance. “I owe you, don’t I?”

You stare at his hand, study the silver rings around his fingers.

“...A handshake.”

“What?” You can only gawk at him.

“You paid all this money for handshakes from all members...”

That was not what you expected. “It’s okay. You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

You grip the counter tighter, “I don’t want to, really, it’s okay.”

“I insist.” You can hear the frustration in his voice.

“No...It’s okay. I won't hold it against you.”

Yoongi frowns, slowly lowering his hand, feeling stupid. How is he supposed to get you to touch him?

He chews on his bottom lip and sneaks a glance at you again. Against all his instincts, when he realized he had another chance to see you, he took it with no question. You scared him and yet he felt himself gravitating to you. Everything that transpired had given him so many questions, and you were the only answer. “Please, I want to know-I want to know if it’s true.” Yoongi pauses, “I just want to understand why I feel the way I do being around you.”

You realize just how close the rapper stands next to you, your shoulders almost touching, had he moved closer and you didn’t even realize it? Did you?

You glance over at him, he looks so vulnerable and lost, nothing like the intimidating idol who stood in front of you at the fanmeet. He seemed so untouchable, now he’s asking you to do just that. You want to give in, you think it’s the least you can do for him, and then he’ll realize his mistake and let you go home.

You brace yourself and push away from the counter behind you, turning to face the rapper.

“Okay, but you’ll probably regret it,” you whisper, extending your hand.

Yoongi goes to grab your hand but you move yours just out of reach before he has a chance to, “Don’t say I didn't warn you...” Yoongi nods to you. He grabs your hand.

“Can you let go of me already.” You whisper as Yoongi holds you in a death grip.

“Yeah, let’s just blow our entire cover.” Yoongi hisses. This was not how the mission was supposed to go. Yoongi doesn’t do field missions, his talents are long range. Away from people, especially you.

“And can you stop looking at me like that, you’re supposed to be acting like my wife,” he warns lowly in your ear, you think he’s going to dislocate a finger the way he’s squeezing your hand. Yeah right, like you would ever marry a man like Min Yoongi.

You’re annoyed. Annoyed at the man next to you, annoyed they required you to have a male partner at all, like you needed a babysitter to do your job. On top of it all, it had to be him.

The gala you walk into is being held for top diplomats and politicians from all over the world. You let Yoongi pull you through the crowds as you scan the room for your target, a corrupt delegate who has a swath of information that could be useful to the state. You pull on Yoongi’s arm to get his attention, “Your left, 9 o’clock.”

He pulls you closer before you can advance on the target, grabbing your chin to face him instead, to anyone else it would look like a romantic gesture, for you it’s just another tactic Yoongi uses to keep you leashed to him. “We should make sure there aren’t any threats first.”

You’ve never been a woman to accept the cages men tried to confine you to, you have claws and you know how to use them. You lean into Yoongi, you can feel his body stiffen as you press your chest against his. You place a kiss on his cheek, bringing his arms around you until he gives in and grips your body instead, “That’s your job isn’t it, let me do mine,” you give him your best smile, but your eyes show him your true emotions as you glare at him with hatred. And with that, you were able to slip away from Yoongi’s grasp.

You drop your suitcase onto the only bed in your small hotel room. You know you needed the sharp shooter to complete the mission, but why did you have to share a room with him too? And why do they keep assigning Yoongi to you? You’re a top agent, you could easily complete this mission with an amateur, anyone but the smug sniper who is making his way toward you now.

“We need to be on site at 23:00, so go do something while I sleep.” The agent starts unbuttoning his cuff, paying you little attention.

“So I’m not supposed to get any rest?” You cross your arms and frown at the jaded man in front of you, “What the hell am I supposed to do while you’re getting your beauty sleep?”

“Not my problem.” Yoongi is sleep deprived and more irritable than usual. “You slept on the plane ride here, I know because your snoring kept me up the entire flight.”

You feel your face go hot with anger and embarrassment. “Well, I’m not leaving. This is my room too!”

“Do what you want! I don’t care.” the sniper yells. He needs to sleep so he can keep you safe, he thinks, ‘ungrateful brat.’

He moves past you shoving his shoulder into yours. In your anger, you shove him back. He turns around glaring at you, then decides to shove you again, this time with his hands. Yoongi is stubborn, but you’re more stubborn, you push him again, and now you’re in a shoving match with your own partner.

“Will you stop!” he yells, pushing you so hard your back hits the hotel wall.

“You first!” The next time you push your hand into his shoulder Yoongi grabs your wrist and pulls you hand forward, slamming his chest into you and crushing you between his body and the wall.

He glares down at you, his eyes flicker down to your lips.

Why did he do that? ‘Ugh idiot,’ and now you're thinking about his lips, the thoughts make you glance down. ‘Fuck, why did I do that?’ He catches the movement of your eyes.

You stand trapped against his strong frame, you think about elbowing him away, sweeping his feet and knocking him out for daring to test you like this, but you needed him at the top of his game for tonight. You squirm in his grasp while he stares down at you with an unreadable expression.

Eventually, when you feel like the pounding of your pulse might give you a heart attack Yoongi removes himself from you and goes to the bathroom, slamming the door shut. You hear the shower start. ‘Why does it have to be him,’ you wonder, rubbing your temples with your fingers. You decide to go grab some food. There’s a pit in your stomach, it must be hunger you think.

---

You walk the perimeter of the house, leaving the man you coaxed into bringing you into his home asleep in his bed. The sleep sedatives you laced in his drink made sure he wouldn’t bother you while you search his mansion. You had to work quickly and quietly.

“Two guards, headed your way.” Yoongi’s voice comes through in your earpiece, letting you slip into an empty room undetected.

“Clear?”

“Clear.” Yoongi’s deep voice crackles in your ear.

You make your way down the third floor hallway until you reach a large door.

Yoongi watches you through heat sensor binoculars. “There are five guards behind that door, do not engage.”

“I guess I’m getting warmer then.” You remove the knife around your thigh. “Do you have a clear shot on any of them?”

The sniper sees three windows, two blocked almost entirely by a curtain, the last only slightly covered, the situation was not ideal. “Negative. You’ll have to push them to the far open window so I can get a better shot.”

You look at the large windows of the hall you stand in. “Do you have a clear shot on me?”

“Don’t tempt me.”

You smirk, “You ruin your perfect record? Doubt it.”

You knock on the door, ignoring Yoongi hissing in your ear, “So much for the element of surprise.”

“This is not the bathroom!” You stab the first guard in the neck. As he falls, clutching his throat and spluttering for air, you hug your body to the wall. When the next guard runs out you kick the pistol out of his hand. He fights against your advances, he’s strong and trained, but even then one can only take so many stabs to the body. The rest of the men advance on you, two drop, you see the bullet holes in their skulls.

“Thanks-” the last man lunges at you, putting you in a chokehold. He’s tall, he lifts you up and you lose your footing. You swing your knife, blade piercing his arms, but his hold on you stays. You kick in his grasp, your legs make contact with the wall and you both go down.

“I don’t have eyes on you. Get him in my sight!” You’d like to yell at Yoongi that that’s exactly what you were trying to do, but the guard’s hold on your windpipe makes it impossible. You aim your knife for his sides until his grip on you lessens. You roll off of him and start crawling, hoping he falls into your trap. He grabs your leg, you use the momentum to twist your body and kick him in the chest, before he falls on his back, he’s already dead. You can always count on Yoongi to never miss a headshot.

“Like I was saying, thanks.” Your voice is hoarse. Yoongi scoffs in your ear.

As you work to open the safe you’ve located, you hear Yoongi’s voice again, “Get out of there now! Twelve guards headed your way!”

“Just twelve?” You grab the dead mans’ guns and barricade yourself in the room. You pull every curtain you see down and fall to the floor just in time as gunfire fills the room.

Yoongi watches you take the men down one by one. You move in a chaotic dance around the room, there’s a preciseness to your movements, and also a wildness in your actions. You’re like a feral tiger, eating your targets alive. Yoongi’s impressed. The sniper lines up shot after shot, giving you as much cover as he can offer. He tries to keep your bloodshed to a minimum, you set up the pins, he knocks them down.

He is more than happy to deal the final blow. As he adds another tick to his total body count, he hopes you’ll be okay. Physically, he knows you’ll be fine, but mentally, he worries about you. Memories with you after similar missions still haunt him, the quiet anguish that fills you after every big bloodbath. It’s become a ritual to spend nights together after a mission, neither of you able to sleep soundly, you’d often wonder out loud to Yoongi if the dead men had wives or children, ask if it bothered him, ‘destroying families.’ It didn’t, if he’s being honest, they were horrible men and their families were probably better off without them in his eyes, but he knew it bothered you.

So, he doesn’t mind killing for you, it’s not because he cares about you, no, it’s just easier to get through missions that way. He would rather have everyone think you’re a tiger, Yoongi knows the truth.

Yoongi pulls you back, concealing your bodies from the advancing enemies. You look at him questionly. He places a finger to his mouth to keep you quiet. He signs with his hands, ‘two,’ ‘ahead,’ ‘you wait,’ ‘I’ll go around.’ You nod in agreement. You wait, straining your ears to hear signs of struggle. You hear footsteps running towards your direction. You grab the enemy and knock him out before he can make a sound. Yoongi is pulling you away, handing you a black bag you assume is full of data your agency so desperately wanted. You make a quiet getaway, grateful you can hide in the shadows and follow Yoongi to your escape: a boat that can get you to international waters. You stretch and watch the night sky as Yoongi starts the engine. “I didn’t die.” you hum.

“You say that like you’re disappointed.”

You snort, kicking the bag you and Yoongi risked your lives for. You turn to him, “Thank you, comrade, you saved my life.”

Yoongi shuffles uncomfortably, you’re being pleasant and it’s weird. “You’re welcome.”

“We make a good team, hmm?”

You sit on Yoongi’s workbench. In his space. The two of you work in silence as you put together the pieces of your handgun. He cleans the parts of his sniper rifle. He hands you the last piece of your weapon, it’s easier working here with him, his office is quiet. He doesn’t try to make small talk with you, you hate small talk. Your days are not “good.” You’re sick of using your body to lure in your targets, having to do things more than what you’re comfortable with on multiple occasions to complete the mission. But as a female agent, sometimes you think that’s all you're good for, and they would kill you if you tried to leave now. Escaping and living a quiet life without the man who sits next to you, not being able to protect him, you don’t want that either.

You hop off the table, Yoongi had also gotten up from his chair to grab more rags and you collide into each other. He grabs your waist to steady you. You bodies press against one another. You hold your breath. As his strong hands move you to the side, he mutters a sorry.

Yoongi is livid. He is slamming drawers and yanking open cabinet doors as you slowly make your way to sit onto the medical table. The safehouse is empty except for you and him.

“Are you insane or just stupid?” Your partner advances on you hastily, a medical kit in his hands.

You roll your eyes, “It’s just a scratch, I’m fine.” The blood seeping from your side and over your fingers betrays your words.

Yoongi yanks your hand away and grabs the tattered corners of your blood covered shirt and rips it. You try to stay stoic as you sit in front of him in only a bra while Yoongi works to clean and bandage your wound. His actions are so aggressive your body jerks back and forth from his movements. He pulls a bandage particularly tight and you yell, glaring at him. He glares back at you.

“You could have died.” Yoongi says softly. He keeps his eyes trained on your wound, adding the image to the list of reasons on why he doesn’t get close to people.

“And you would have died.”

His hands drop to the medical table as he cages you in. His dark eyes bore into yours, you hate how it makes you feel: vulnerable. “Don’t risk your life for me.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

---

“Tell me how much you want me.” Your partner’s low voice whispers in your ears. You think you’d rather die.

His fingernails scratch your scalp as he grabs a hold of your hair and yanks back, pulling you against his front. Your hip digs painfully into the dresser in front of you, as he pushes his body closer to yours. Your face feels tight, the pain burns your scalp, a reminder that you still can feel something. Everything in your life makes you feel numb, but Yoongi makes you feel alive. You hate how addicted you’ve become to his touches.

“If you don’t say it, you won’t get anything,” he tuts, tightening his hold on your hair and a moan escapes you. He pulls your head back and places soft kisses on the column of your neck.

Yoongi waits, his lips attached to your neck as he grinds his hard erection into your ass until you lose yourself to pleasure, unable to take his teasing any longer.

“I want you.”

“I can’t hear you.”

You grind your teeth, “You’re pushing it.”

Yoongi grabs your breast, “Tell me, kitty.” His rough hands on your body is exactly what you want, makes you drip with arousal, but you’ll never tell him that. Instead, you move your hands behind you and grab at his hard erection.

“I can’t seem to remember what I was going to say, do you?” You run your hand down his length and squeeze, his hold on your hair loosens ever so slightly as his breathing turns shallow.

He’s used to your stubborn nature by now, but this kind of fight is something you’ll never win. Yoongi grabs your wrist and holds your arm in place, twisting your arm in a lock and bending you over the dresser. You struggle against him, as he opens your legs wider with his own. “You know kitty, you’re not invincible. Always ready to start a fight. If you’re not careful, someone might decide to teach you a lesson.”

You can see him out of the corner of your eye. He normally looks so composed, but the way he stares down at you so hungrily, he looks wild, eyes blown wide by lust.

“And is that you?” you laugh, grunting as he pushes down on you, grabbing your other arm and locking it behind your back. The weight of him against your back increases, stealing air from your lungs. His low voice whispers teasingly in your ear, sending shivers down your spine, “Do you want it to be me?”

Yoongi stands, watching you struggle against his hold. He knows it would be easy for you to get away from him if you really tried, and the knowledge that you’re submitting to him in your own stubborn way makes his body hot and dick throb. He squeezes your thigh, his thumb rubbing against your center. You’re so wet, your underwear drenched in arousal. He bites back a moan, pressing against your sensitive bundle of nerves, rubbing deep circles into you and forcing a whine to escape your lips. He lifts up your skirt, yanking the wet fabric of your underwear down to your thighs. Then his touch becomes slow and teasing. He runs his fingers along your slit, drenching his digits in your essence and bringing them to his mouth. You taste so good, fuck he can’t get enough of you, Yoongi is going to wreck you.

You watch him licking his fingers, the erotic scene making you clench unsatisfyingly around nothing. “Please…” you whisper, the sight of him had broken down your walls.

Yoongi unzips his pants and pulls himself out. He takes no more time, plunging into your heat suddenly. You shudder, it feels so good to have him inside you. He finally lets go of you to grip the flesh of your hips, slamming into you over and over. The force of his thrusts takes your breath away, as your body shifts up and down against the hard surface of his dresser.

With every thrust you feel the tension in your body uncoil, you never want this to end, you’d rather drown in the pleasure he’s giving you then come up for air and deal with the pain of your life. “You feel so good-fuck me harder!” The words leave your lips without thought. You don’t want to feel anything else but his bruising touches, you don’t want to think of anything else but him.

Yoongi grips your shoulder with one hand, moving your body to meet his thrusts as his pace becomes brutal. Your entire body vibrates with pleasure as he manhandles you. You pulse around him as you let go. Yoongi goes faster, using your body to climax, you let yourself moan freely, losing yourself to the pain and pleasure of overstimulation. You can feel him filling you up as he shakes against you.

Your world comes back into focus as you gasp for breath, your body slumped against the desk. “Is that all you’ve got? Hardly a lesson.” Yoongi laughs, wrapping his arms around your middle. He lifts you up and throws you onto the bed. You land with a huff.

---

The silence is deafening as you lay across from your partner. The twin bed in the cheap motel room you share makes it impossible for either of you to have your own space. Neither of you can sleep, and you’re both too tired to complain about the situation, so you stare at each other in the darkness, the neon lights outside your window bathe your faces in soft hues of blue. The cheap sheets scratch your skin, you can feel the hard edges of your gun underneath the old thin hotel pillow, but the soft fabric of Yoongi’s long sleeve shirt feels nice against the back of your hand. You absentmindedly brush your hand against his arm, your fingers play with the baggy material, rolling the fabric between your fingers. Yoongi places his free hand over yours to stop your actions. You’re too tired to question him, nor do you want to break the silence. Yoongi’s features are calm, his hardness is all gone tonight, when he relaxes you think he looks quite soft. Tonight Yoongi doesn’t look like a trained killer at all, his messy hair frames his face and his usual cold eyes radiate warmth. You study each other through half open eyes. Eventually, Yoongi closes his eyes, but doesn’t remove his hand from atop yours. “Go to sleep,” he grunts.

You take a deep breath out. You focus on Yoongi’s steady breathing, trying to keep your heavy eyes open, scared of what you’ll see once you close them, faces of the dead petrified corpses that always reveal themselves against the darkness of your shut eyelids. You study the soft features of your partner instead, able to memorize the details of his face while you’re so close to him. You think of him until sleep takes over.

---

You groan in pain, not ready to open your eyes to the morning light. Your throat is sore and dry, and your entire body aches, especially a certain part of you, the realization snaps you awake. You realize you’re not alone in your bed, you open your blurry eyes to a head of jet black hair. A man sleeps on your naked chest, you can feel his lips against your breast as he quietly snores. You realize his messy locks, the slope of his nose and contours of his muscular arm are all familiar to you, because he’s not a stranger at all. Memories of last night come back to you slowly.

Images of your partner offering you his bourbon, and you gratefully accepting. The pleasant conversation you had together, no arguing or superfluous challenging, just meaningful stories and gentle banter. You remember your partner’s flushed face, the timid smile he tried to hide against his glass, his dark eyes pulling you in. The drunker you became the more you gravitated towards him, until you were pressed up against him, moaning against his lips as his tongue explored your mouth, and you begging him to fuck you. No no no no no.

A wave of mortification and humiliating arousal hits you. You shove your partner off you.

“What the fuck!” Yoongi’s head is pounding, and your punches are not weak. It’s too damn early to be fighting with you already, Yoongi thinks. He pins you down, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He yells, not understanding why you’re here or why you suddenly decided to attack him.

The way his hands pin your wrists brings on another wave of memories that invade your mind and makes your face burn hot with embarrassment. He looks down at you and notices the purple bruises littering your neck and chest, your chest that is absent of a shirt, and your very naked body, against his very naked body. He let’s go of you in his shock. You scoot away from him, pulling the bed sheets up to cover yourself. He stares at you, mouth wide open, trying to place the pieces of last night together. “Oh fuck.”

“This will never happen again.”

His eyes scan your body as his hazy mind replays the events of last night, his face goes red at thoughts of you writhing under him. Yoongi was so desperate to explore your body, make you moan his name. He prays you were too drunk to notice how badly he wanted you. “Never.”

---

You spot three guards in front of the door, ‘a little excessive,’ you think. You grin to yourself as you run through every possible take down you can use against them. They’re big men, and big men always underestimate women.

Yoongi sits patiently, the blindfold doesn’t permit him to see, but he smirks to himself as he hears the sounds of struggle outside.

He hears the door open and close, feet circling him. He struggles against his restraints. Suddenly he feels a weight in his lap. The blindfold is pulled off and he meets your self satisfied face smiling at him.

“Took you long enough.”

You pout. “I should leave you here.”

You press your lips against his. Pulling him close by the hair. He grunts into your mouth. You press yourself down on him, grinding into his hardening length.

Yoongi struggles against his restraints, wanting to pull you closer to him. “Untie me.”

There’s a glint in your eye as you pull away from him. You kiss his neck instead, sucking hard on the sensitive skin behind his ear.

“You’re going to regret not listening to me, kitty.” Yoongi growls.

You laugh against his skin, working to undo his belt. Yoongi groans as you grip his length.

“I thought you were supposed to be rescuing me.”

“I am,” you lick your lips, “but then you had to go and let yourself get tied up.” You hop off his lap and kneel between his legs, Yoongi flexes his arms against the ropes, watching you intently. You bring the head of his shaft to your lips and kiss. The chair shakes as he pulls against his restraints groaning, you give him mercy as you suck him into your mouth, enjoying the way he struggles to keep his composure.

“You’ve had your fun,” he tries to hold in his moans, “you’re going to get yourself captured too because you're such a needy slut for my cock.” He thrusts his hips up, making you choke. It doesn’t deter you, as you press yourself deeper, your nose against his stomach, he shudders and the ropes dig into his wrists as he pulls harder against his restraints.

You pull off of him and look at him with a smirk. “I took care of the guards.” As if you already know Yoongi's next words you say, “I took care of all the guards.” Bringing your mouth around his length again, you suck him hard. You suck him down until you gag, over and over again until you can feel him swell, close to release, and you pull away. If looks could kill, you would have been added to Yoongi’s headcount. You jump to your feet and start cutting away the ropes that bind him.

“I’m untying you only because we are running out of time, not because you asked me to.”

He grunts, thinking of all the ways he’s going to use your body. “Noted.”

When free, Yoongi brings you into a crushing kiss, wrapping his hand around your neck. “Dangerous girl, you deserve to be punished.”

---

You allow yourself to rest against the cold concrete floor, making yourself comfortable in the dirt and grime. Your muscles are sore, and you’re tired. You’re tiredness doesn’t just come from surviving the mission, you’re sick and tired of it all. You were the first to make it to the scheduled rendezvous point, maybe the only one left. You hear footsteps and turn to see your partner jogging towards you, his equipment bag slung over his shoulder, he’s winded, skin covered in dirt from his hasty escape. When he sees you, he runs over to you, his eyes scan over your body but he doesn’t touch you. Your clothes are drenched in blood, but it’s not your own. You look like the walking dead, and you think you deserve to die, you’re a monster.

Yoongi sprawls out next to you, massaging his sore muscles. “If you had let them live your identity would have been compromised.” He knows you had no choice but to kill them. “You did what you had to do to complete the mission.”

“Stop talking, please.” You stare at his dirt covered face, you’re glad he made it out alive, and you wished you hadn’t. Your target had brought his wife and daughter, the agency didn’t warn you, or maybe they knew and didn’t care. You think about the love they must have had, so great he couldn’t be apart from them, and you not only took their lives, but took that love and destroyed it. You knew you were a killer, but you never thought you’d be a villain. You reach for your partner’s hand. He grips you tightly, his fingers are black with dirt, yours are stained with blood. You feel the weight on your chest become even heavier. You wonder if he could ever love you like that, you wonder if you’d just end up destroying that as well.

You lay asleep in Yoongi’s bed. His fingers run along your arm that rests on his chest. During the twilight hours, while you drift off to another world in your slumber, Yoongi allows himself to fully love you. He intertwines his fingers with yours and kisses the soft skin of your wrist, wrapping his arms around your sleeping frame. He let’s himself pretend you’re not in each other's company only for convenience, but because you love him as much as he loves you. He shouldn’t love you, love is too dangerous for people like him, love is a risk too big to take. But until the sun comes up again he gives in to his weaknesses. When you wake, he’ll be strong for you again, he’ll be your shield and protect you from everyone including himself.

---

“So you don’t want to work with me anymore?” You barge into Yoongi’s workspace. He keeps his face emotionless, choosing to ignore you.

So you press on, “I’m with Petrov now, I didn’t request a new partner, so it had to have been you. Why? Answer me!”

Yoongi leans back in his chair and crosses his arms, “You’re overreacting, he’s new, they probably want you to show him how it’s done-”

“Don’t fucking lie to me!”

“There’s a good reason-”

“You’re lying, you’re doing that thing with your hands when you lie!” You yell.

Yoongi shoves his hands in his pockets, his anger getting the better of him, “Fine, maybe I don’t want to be your partner anymore!” You stay silent. “You’re reckless, you never listen to me, you almost died on our last mission. I’m...I’m tired of worrying about you.”

Your chest tightens in pain, his words sting more than any blade or bullet you’ve ever taken. You try to meet his eyes, but he refuses to look at you. ‘Coward,’ you think. You scoff, “Fine...Good...I don’t want to work with you either.” You turn on your heels to leave.

“Wait!” Yoongi stands from his desk and rushes after you. When you refuse to listen, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you against him. “Please, stop,” he whispers in your ear.

You place your arms over his, let his warmth envelope you. You don’t understand him, he’s holding you like you’re about to break in his arms, but he’d let you go off into a mission without him? How could he do this to you? You thought you were a team, you thought you were...friends. You used to feel safe in his arms, now you just feel betrayal. You bite your lip, your sadness turns into bitterness, your bitterness into anger.

You dig your nails in his arms until he hisses and lets you go. You give your partner one last look before exiting his office, you give him one more chance. If he takes it, you’ll find a way to forgive him, to fix whatever it is that made him angry enough to break the bonds between you. But he stays silent, his silence speaks volumes, “Like you said, you don’t have to worry about me any longer. I'm not your problem anymore.” You slam his door shut.

Yoongi’s body is shaking. He slams his fist against the door. He rests his forehead against the wooden surface and swallows down the growing pressure in his throat, processing everything that just occurred. He made the right choice, this was for your own protection, he wouldn’t allow you to care more about his life than your own, he knows he’s right, so why does he feel so sick?

Your reputation precedes you, the tigresse, a top agent. You pull off impossible missions. Maybe it’s because you just don’t care if you can finish the job or not, you’ll choose the riskiest plays, find yourself in the most dangerous scenarios; you’ll choose the more daring escape route, and because of that people are afraid of you, even in your own agency. No one wants to work with you for too long, and you don’t want them to either, so you finally get what you wanted, to work alone. You’re at the top, all alone, there’s no congratulations in your line of work, no happiness.

Yoongi doesn’t have to worry about anyone anymore, even himself. On missions he used to view his sniper rifle as an extension of himself, now he feels just as cold and hollow as the barrel of his rifle, he’s become an empty killing machine. He can’t sleep at night, he wakes up to nightmares of you dying over and over again. Eventually, when he can’t take it anymore, he convinces his superiors to let him act as your backup without your knowledge, they only allow it because you’ve become too valuable to lose. He still can’t sleep at night, slowly losing his mind in solitude, trapped in a cage of loneliness by his own doing. He becomes a shadow, a ghost, making sure the legacy of their best agent survives.

You search for cover, the bullet holes in your body make every movement slow and painful. The holes in your leg keeps you on the ground. You pull yourself through the sea of dead bodies as bullets fly through the air.

You feel a hand on your shoulder, you start to aim your pistol.

“What are you doing here?” The gunman ignores you as he pulls your bloody body into his arms and runs.

Yoongi watched you from his post get shot, one, two, three times until he couldn’t take it anymore. When he couldn’t protect you from a distance anymore, he left his post, his decision as instantaneous as a traveling bullet.

He hides you and him, holding you close, looking over your wounds. He tries to put pressure on the bullet holes, but there are just so many. “I’m sorry,” he mutters, “I was supposed to protect you.”

You touch his face, you can feel the warmth of his skin against your cold fingers, he’s real. “You’re here.”

Yoongi’s trained ears listen to the gunfire as it becomes louder, a sign he needs to move again. He reloads his assault rifle, heaving you up to your feet. You groan as more blood gushes from your wounds. Yoongi uses his assault rifle to make another path for you and him. Your ex partner drags your body along, hiding again to reload.

“You need to save yourself. I’m not going to make it.” You say as you cough up blood. Yoongi pulls you up again, ignoring your words, refusing to accept he can’t save you. As he runs a stray bullet hits his shoulder and you both go down. Yoongi shoots to where he thinks the bullets came from, but his shoulder makes it difficult for him to aim.

“Stop! You can’t die too!” You aim your pistol at the two men advancing upon you from Yoongi’s blind spot. You manage to shoot one, but your blood loss makes your vision hazy and your aim too wide. The second man’s bullets hit Yoongi’s side. Yoongi adjusts his rifle and takes quick revenge. He doubles over in pain.

You grab his hand, your breathing is too shallow to tell him all the things you want to say. “Save yourself...”

“And leave you again? Never.”

Yoongi holds you until you take your last labored breath, and holds you still, until his own blood loss becomes too much.

---

Yoongi doubles over, crashing into you. You try to hold the rapper up, but you are faring no better, your body shakes in phantom pain. His entire weight is on you, you move against the wall for support as both of you try to catch your breath, his head leans on your shoulder, and he groans in agony. You grip his arms. Should you push him away? But you don’t want to. You want to pull him closer. You grip his arms harder, frozen, your mind and body remembering, remembering everything, and it takes every last bit of your willpower not to react.

Finally, after your breaths have settled, he steadies himself on his feet, still pressed against your frame. He lifts his head, you can feel his breath on the side of your face. He laughs weakly against you, “I don’t regret it.”

“What-“ his eyes pierce through you. You realize he hasn’t moved away from you still, you stare back into the idol’s eyes, it all feels so familiar, too familiar...

His nose brushes against your cheek, you hold your breath at the sensation, it’s so familiar. His lips ghost over yours and when you don’t pull away Yoongi presses his lips firmer onto yours.

You feel electricity in every vein, to the tips of your fingers, to the ends of the hair. Emotions that felt like distant memories scorch through you. Your legs buckle.

Yoongi had only meant to give you a quick kiss, just to see how it would compare to his wild memories, but the feelings that came over him overtook every sense of reason left in him. He deepened the kiss. You pulled him closer to you, it was automatic.

He felt his sanity slipping away with every inhale of your scent, a sprouting desire burst through him, a need everlasting lifetimes, it made him desperate to devour you. He pushes his leg in between yours to hold you steady when he feels you falling against him. You yell against his lips, his touch is too overwhelming and you feel yourself slipping away, you try desperately to stay in the moment, remember who you are to him actually. You push him away to catch your breath. “I shouldn’t have done that. I-“

You both jump at the pounding from the door. “Both of you need to come out now.” His voice is muffled, but you’d recognize the distinctive cadence of the BTS leader anywhere. Yoongi mutters words you don’t understand. You yelp as he grabs your hand, leading you to the door.

Namjoon is greeted by the sight of his bandmate and you looking particularly guilty as you leave the bathroom. The way Yoongi holds your hand does not go unnoticed by the leader.

You walk in between the rappers, security following behind you. You can tell Namjoon is annoyed, the way he glances at the nonexistent space between you and Yoongi and clenches his jaw. What are you supposed to do, not hold Min Yoongi’s hand? The firm hold he has on you is the only thing that’s keeping you from falling apart into an anxious puddle on the floor. So instead you spend the walk mentally screaming at yourself.

Namjoon opens an unmarked door and walks in, Yoongi follows directly behind him, pulling you along. You realize where you are as five more pairs of eyes meet yours.

They are all staring at you. You want to run and hide. You move behind Yoongi instead. He hasn’t let go of your hand, and every man in the room notices it.

Namjoon goes first, “We all need to talk.”

---

“So now do you admit it!” Jimin looks between Yoongi and you with a frown.

“He promised he wouldn’t touch her.” Jungkook whines to Namjoon.

“I didn’t promise. I said I wouldn’t...I changed my mind.”

You listen to the group argue glancing over Yoongi’s shoulder, you make eye contact with Jin. His eyes are still red, like he hasn’t stopped crying. For the first time since he grabbed you, you wanted to let go of Yoongi’s hand. Jin is the first to break away, he turns around, overwhelmed. Your face is still perfectly clear in his mind. Your words replay like whispers in his ear, ‘find me.’

You break away from Yoongi and address everyone.

“Uhh, I don’t know...” you start, “I don’t know how any of this works, or why it’s happening in the first place. But it is happening right? It happened to you too?” You look around at their faces, you look into Jimin’s eyes, “You saw me too, I was with you, you looked different, but deep down, it was you.” Jimin shifts uncomfortably under your eyes, he feels his chest tighten at your words, “and you saw me in her too.” You turn to J-Hope. “Right? Please tell me I’m-” you whisper the last part, “I’m not crazy.”

“You’re not crazy.” Hoseok answers you immediately, looking at you with a guilty expression.

Jungkook is nodding up and down at you rapidly.

“I was with you..” Jin walks over to you, but stops before he gets too close, “It felt so real...I was there with you on the cliff…” his eyes are so sad it makes tears well up in your eyes.

“How is this even possible…” Jimin speaks up, “I just don’t understand.” Jimin looks upset. He doesn’t want to believe any of this, none of it makes sense to him.

You can see the pain in their faces clearly. You feel like you’ve done something horrible. All you wanted to do was meet your idols and thank them for making your life better, but you ended up making their lives worse, and you don’t know how or why.

You rub your eyes before you start crying again, “I’m sorry. I should go home, it’s-" you check your phone screen. “One thirty in the morning?! I should leave!”

You jump as the room fills with protests from the men. They all quickly stop as soon as they start. You all stare at each other.

Namjoon takes charge. “How did you get here? We can have a driver take you home! We have to go to the hotel now, before you go home, we can finish talking there.” There is a finality to his words.

You stand there wide eyed, ‘hotel’?

---

So now you sit alone in the back of a large car with four managers. They have given you forms to fill out. A stack of papers full of NDAs. You felt like you were signing your life away. You wanted to tell them to take you home, but you stayed silent, you didn’t want to cause anymore trouble.

You follow the managers through the hotel into an elevator, to the top floor. They lead you into a massive penthouse and shut the door behind you. Jungkook is already inside waiting for you. He’s still in his fanmeet clothes, the other men were still showering and changing, he couldn’t wait any longer to see you again, for a chance to be with you alone.

You stand in the center of the room, unsure of what to do. Alone with the idol, your nerves skyrocket again.

Jungkook slowly makes his way closer to you. He stands in front of you, mirroring much like the way he stood in front of you at the fanmeet, his arms rock nervously by his sides. He bends down a little bit closer to you, and offers you a lopsided smile. “Hey beautiful.”

You shut your eyes, you can’t bear to look at him, you can’t accept that he just said that to you. His words make you ache inside.

The idol waits and gives you space, feeling shy. You can’t take it, his words throw your thoughts into a whirlwind, you want him back, you want what you had together again. You and the idol are worlds apart, but the Jungkook you had felt when your hands touched, he was your entire world.

“Please.” You beg him, offering your hand to him. You don’t know what you’re asking for, you don’t know what touching him will accomplish. You feel just so alone, exhausted from fighting against everything you’re feeling, Jungkook all but gave you permission to give in.

He smiles at you, places his palm against yours. It feels so good, so warm. He clasps his fingers around yours, reaches for your waist with his other hand and pulls you against him with one fell swoop. You already know why, you wrap your free arm around his neck and hold him to you. You can feel his heart beating wildly against you, you know he must feel yours as well. He rests his forehead on yours. It’s there again, that spark that explodes inside you, threatening to detonate all your sense of reason. Neither of you move, frozen in dance. He begins to hum a tune, a tune that pulls a smile from you-

The door opens and you jump to sit on the edge of the couch, much to Jungkook’s displeasure.

The rest of the group files into the large hotel room, they are all changed into more comfortable clothes. They look clean and refreshed, you realize just how tired and achy your body feels, you want to take a shower too.

Namjoon gives the youngest a hard look, “You didn’t change. You were in here the whole time? After we said we’d speak to her all together. How long were you alone with her? I told you-“

“I arrived only a couple minutes ago, nothing happened.” You interject, feeling the need to defend the youngest member.

Namjoon looks at you surprised. “Your Korean is good.”

You start to feel shy again, “Not really,” you speak in English instead.

“Okay, so let’s figure this out.” Namjoon starts, “Jungkook, do you want to go first?”

“Wait!” Taehyung interjects, “I thought-Joon don’t you want to hold her hand?”

You stiffen. Namjoon goes red, “I-first let’s gather information.”

Taehyung goes to stand. You recoil in your seat. You turn to Namjoon, pleading, “I can’t-I can’t do it again.”

“You don’t know what you’re asking for, Tae-”

“Says you, you already got to touch her-”

“And that’s why I’m telling you not to do it-”

“No one is touching her-”

“Joon, can you please talk some sense into them-”

“Can we please focus-”

“If you get anywhere near her I’m punching you in the face-”

“Can we all just calm down-”

“I’ll punch you in the face-”

“No one is punching anyone!”

“I thought we were supposed to be talking this out, not starting fights-“

“I knew this was a bad idea-”

“How am I supposed to talk it out when I don’t even know what it is-”

They all talk so fast and over each other you can barely understand anything they are saying, but you know it’s not anything good. This is getting nowhere. “I-I’m so tired, I should really go home. I need to shower. Today has been...a long day.”

“You can stay in one of the rooms! We have the whole floor-Ow!” Jimin hits Jungkook in the shoulder.

“I-I need to go to the bathroom.” You feel trapped again. You go to stand and you feel a hand tug on yours, it’s Yoongi. “Take a deep breath. Nothing is going to happen to you, I promise. It’s okay to feel overwhelmed. You should at least rest before we take you home.”

You bite your lip, looking around at the men. Jungkook looks at you with hopeful eyes.

“....Okay.”

“I’ll take her!” Jin, Yoongi, and Jungkook speak in unison. They look between one another. Jin, stands up, “I’ll take her.”

You silently follow him out, hearing the boys start conversing again behind you. You stay behind him as he walks down the hall. Your face heats up again as you stare at the idol’s back. Is this really happening to you? You should leave.

Jin takes a keycard out of his pocket and opens the door, holding it open for you. You walk in, it’s smaller than the other room, still larger than any hotel room you’ve ever been in. Jin picks up the suitcase from the middle of the room.

“I’ll find another room to stay in.” You feel your chest tightening again at his words. “Rest now, y/n, and then we can get to the bottom of this in the morning,” he smiles down at you. His eyes linger on you, about to speak again but he decides it’s better to wait.

You tug at his hoodie as he goes to leave. “I…” you want to tell him not to leave you alone, “I don’t have any clothes to change into.”

“Oh, I can give you some of my clothes!” You bite your lip as you watch Jin set his suitcase on the bed and rummage through his clothes. He pulls out a collection of hoodies, shirts and pants, way too many clothes for one sleeping outfit.

“Thank you…” you walk with him to the door. He lingers there with you.

“This...this is a good thing.” You cock your head to the side, Jin pats your head, “I found you after all.” And with that he leaves you to your thoughts.

---

After showering you feel so much better. You stand in your towel, looking around at the room. 'This must be a dream,' you think. Your hands run over the stack of Jin’s clothes. This stack probably costs more than all the clothes you’ve ever bought in your entire life, you think. You sigh and pull on a shirt and sweatpants, and decide to throw on a hoodie too for good measure. You start to laugh as you look at yourself in the hotel room’s mirror. You’re sure you're going to wake up tomorrow and this will all be a wild dream. You’re about to settle into bed when you hear a knock.

Jungkook stands in the hallway. He stares at you with wide eyes before looking at his feet. “I brought you clothes to wear.”

“Oh,” you look at him shocked.

“I see someone already gave you theirs,” he looks crestfallen.

“Yeah, Jin took care of that.” You pull on the strings of the hoodie in embarrassment.

“Oh well for tomorrow morning, you can wear this.”

You don’t have the heart to tell him Jin gave you enough clothes to cover an entire week. “Thank you. I’ll wear it tomorrow.”

“Okay...good.”

You hold your breath. You want to keep talking to him. “Your English is good, you sound like an American now.”

Jungkook smiles, too shy to meet your eyes. “Thank you.”

“You can speak in Korean too, I understand. I am not that good at speaking it, but I guess now is the best time to practice.” You laugh. Jungkook nods at you, his smile growing wider.

“Goodnight, beautiful.” He winks at you. You feel your heart tighten at his words.

“Jungkook!” He turns back around. “Um, sweet dreams.”

Jungkook looks you over. “Can I?”

“Huh?” He steps closer to you, you stay still. He reaches his arms out and wraps them around you in a hug. His head rests on the top of your head as he holds you close to him. It feels like you remember, his embrace feels the same. You grip onto the material of his long sleeve shirt. He holds you closer. All you can smell and feel is Jungkook.

Jungkook holds you close to him. He doesn’t know how to feel. His heart aches in anguish over the thought of losing you again. He doesn’t want to let you go.

In his arms you feel so safe, you relax against him. A wave of sleepiness crashes over you. Jungkook helps you into bed.

“I’ll come get you in the morning.” He runs his hands over your forehead. The intimate gesture doesn’t go unnoticed by you, but you're too tired to react. Your heart is full. Is this what true love feels like?

---

You stretch in your bed. Your muscles ache, you feel good after a night's rest. You snuggle into your pillow, it’s so fluffy and soft, softer than you’re used to, you pull your covers closer to you. You notice the large sleeves of your hoodie, and your sleepiness drains away. It’s not your bed, and that’s not your hoodie. You sit up, looking around the unfamiliar room, you feel like you’ve been doused with cold water. Everything from the night before comes back to you. You pull the covers over your head, so much for a good morning.

You grab your phone. You have a text message: ‘call me when you get home <3’ and two missed calls. You bury your head into the pillows. You're about to call back when there is a knock at the door.

“One minute!” You change into Jungkook’s clothes, a black long sleeve shirt and black sweatpants. Staring at your reflection in the mirror, you decide to change your pants for one of Jin’s joggers.

“Hey!” You expected Jungkook to greet you, this was not who you expected.

"Hello." The deep voiced singer stands in front of you. You stare back at him. He walks into your room and takes a seat on the bed. You close the door behind you and walk over to Taehyung.

“I’m so sorry about last night! I would have never touched you without your permission. I’m sorry I made you feel uncomfortable, I’m so sorry. I just-I just needed to find out. I have to. I know you’re scared, I’m scared too...Jungkook and I talked last night and he told me what happened, he said it was more than just memories, it’s like...an awakening. I mean, that’s so cool. If we had another life together, wouldn’t you want to know? Please y/n, I feel like I’m going crazy not knowing-“

“Speak slower please, I’m still a beginner!” You laugh.

“Sorry! Please y/n, please. Before the others wake up.”

You sigh, sitting next to him. “I think Jungkook is leaving out very important information...”

You continue, “We not only lived, we died.” You shut your eyes and wrap your arms around you, “I’ve lived and I’ve died 5 times now. It’s horrible, it’s heartbreaking, it’s not something you can just forget.”

Taehyung sits quietly. “Do you regret it?”

You bite your lip. Do you regret it? You feel it still, the warmth of their love for you. The way they loved you, the way you loved them. Would you give that memory up? Even the lingering feelings in your body are stronger than anything you’ve ever felt in your lifetime. Could you let it go now that you know what you’re missing?

Taehyung presses, “Jungkook says he's happy it happened.”

You inhale sharply. You have to make him see. “Jungkook died in my arms. He died after we tried so hard to run away together.” Taehyung eyes widen. “He was murdered...” You shudder, Taehyung stays silent. “Is that the kind of ‘awakening’ you want?”

He raises a hand to his mouth, stroking his chin. “He didn’t tell me about that...” And then he says something that makes your heart stop. “And he still said he's happy it happened, that he doesn't want to forget about you y/n.”

“Please, I want to try, I think it would be worth it, you’ll be worth it.”

‘Why did he have to say that,’ you wince, looking over at the idol. He is beautiful, way out of your league, above you in every way, and he’s looking back at you like his whole world hangs in the balance. How could you reject him now. You groan.

You stand up. You place your palm in front of his face, your fingers splayed out, you can see his wide excited eyes in the gaps between them. You look at him expectantly. Taehyung nods, places his palm to yours, interlocking your fingers together.

---

Uh-oh the boys don’t want to let you go now! I hope you liked this chapter as much as I liked writing it! It’s kind of cool, all the different worlds. I neverrrr thought I’d write an actiony spy enemies to lovers AU ever, trust. I had to get a lot of help with all the specific terminology, like me - guns - what - totally clueless, I just hope I did the story justice.

Hopefully this tides you over for awhile because we have a problem...I don’t remember anything about Tae’s handshake! Cries. I know what’s supposed to happen, but I also have no idea what happens lol. I know movie, but not movie name, if you get what I’m saying. Please bestow some patience on me for the next chapter. Asks are always open, maybe you can give me some inspiration! <3

[outerbankspreferences]

Let Me Make You Feel Good – Rafe Cameron

A/N: Just a random thought I had last night. 

Word Count: 2951

WARNINGS: SMUT NSFW 18+

MASTERLIST

The two of you sat in Rafe’s bedroom. You were looking through a magazine while Rafe was cutting up his recent drug supply from Barry. You didn’t agree with his unhealthy habit, but also knew how upset he got when you mentioned something to him about it. He always swore it was the last time or that he owed Barry a favour, but you knew that your best friend was falling down a slippery slop that you couldn’t pull him away from.

You and Rafe had been friends since the eighth grade when you got partnered together for a project at school and you’d been friends since. You two were completely different but in a good way. Rafe was always outgoing and confident while you preferred to keep to yourself. Rafe was always seeking adventure and excitement, and he soon discovered that you did too. Rafe would always push you out of your comfort zone, but never to far. You had been there for him when his dad was being a dick, or he just needed someone that wasn’t going to be so hard on him.

 You hadn’t realized you’d been lost in thought when Rafe spoke up pulling you from the dreamland you were in. “Huh?” You questioned completely missing what he said to you, “I said, have you heard back from that art school you applied too?” “Oh, sorry, yeah no I haven’t but they just closed registration so hopefully I’ll hear from them soon.” You explained going back to your magazine.

 You couldn’t help but get distracted by the way Rafe’s muscle would flex with every move of the illegal substance. Every time he went to crush a pill his hands would flex, and though you didn’t approve of the lifestyle you couldn’t deny how hot he looked right now. You had been avoiding your feelings towards Rafe because you knew how cliché it was to fall for your best friend. You also knew Rafe’s track record with women, he was more of a one and done kind of guy.

 You had been with a few guys but nothing like Rafe. You had only gone all the way with one boyfriend and then he broke up with you a couple of weeks later. You always blamed yourself, assuming you weren’t good at sex, so you never really tried again. Recently you couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to be with Rafe. You had heard so many stories from you friends, but you wanted to experience it firsthand.

 “Hey Rafe.” You spoke trying to get his attention, “yes.” “Why do you do drugs?” You asked as if it was the most common question ever and caused him to look at you. “I mean, what makes you enjoy them so much if you know it’s bad for you, and not to mention illegal.” You explained yourself more. “I don’t know, I guess it makes me feel something, y’know? I know it’s cliché, but it makes me feel something other than insignificant to everyone.” He was now facing you, legs spread apart so you could get a good look at his thighs. You shook your head in confirmation going back to your magazine. “Why the sudden interest in my extracurricular activities?” He spoke in a hushed tone knowing the Wheezie could be listening in. “I don’t know, I guess I just never understood why you choose something like that.” You said trying not to sound judgmental and it was his turn to shake his head going back to his previous plans.

 “I could make you feel good.” You spoke half under your breath hoping he wouldn’t hear you, but the way he turned in his chair defied what you wanted to think. “What did you just say?” “Nothing.” You responded too fast for his liking. “Oh really?” He asked smirking. He was playing with you. You weren’t stupid, you knew his game you had heard about it too many times from other friends. “I didn’t know you thought of me that way Y/L/N.” he spoke in a teasing tone and you weren’t sure if you should be offended or not. “It’s not funny Rafe.” You spoke half annoyed throwing a pillow at him causing him to laugh.

 Rafe didn’t realize that you had thought of him that way. Of course, he had thought of you that way on more than one occasion, but he never acted on anything out of fear. For years he listened to his father call him a failure, always telling him he wasn’t good enough for anyone. He thought you deserved the world, and he thought he couldn’t give you that. “I’ve thought about you that way too y’know.” He said turning back to what he was doing, “yeah right, you don’t have to lie just to make me feel better Rafe.” You snorted back. “I’m sure Riley told you all about how terrible I was in bed, I’m pretty sure that’s why he broke up with me.” You explained not looking at him. “That’s not why Riley broke up with you, I thought you knew that.” He questioned. “What are you talking about?” You asked. “He broke up with you because Topper caught him cheating on you, and then Topper told me. Then I not so kindly asked Riley to break up with you. I didn’t want you to get your feelings hurt. I’m sorry.” He explained.

 You should have been mad about him doing that, but you weren’t. It was just Rafe protecting you. He always had you best interest in mind and you loved that about him. “Oh, I didn’t realize. Is that why he had that black eye? He told me it was a misunderstanding in the locker room.” You questioned him further. “Well, that wasn’t a complete lie, we were in the locker room, it just wasn’t a misunderstanding.” Rafe laughed to himself again. “What did you mean when you said you could make me feel good.” He asked again and you were hoping he forgot about your comment.

 “I don’t know Rafe, it just slipped out. I’m not sure I know how to make a guy feel good that way anyways.” You spoke and Rafe could hear the embarrassment in your voice. “Has a guy ever made you feel good that way?” He wondered, not sure if he wanted the answer. “I’m not sure, it didn’t not feel good, but it didn’t feel great.” You explained thinking back to your only sex experience. You didn’t notice that Rafe was no longer at his desk but instead was moving towards the bed. He grabbed the magazine you were looking at and threw it on the floor and you looked up at him. The innocent look in your eyes only edged Rafe on more. “How about we help each other out. I’ll show you how to make a guy feel good, and in return I’ll make you feel good.” He spoke in a hushed tone getting down on his knees in front of you.

 You thought about Rafe’s proposition for a moment. It was what you always wanted but you feared not being good enough for him. “I don’t know Rafe, what if I’m not good enough?” You asked nervous. “That’s why I’ll show you. We don’t have too if you’re not comfortable.” He spoke, pulling your face towards his. You pulled him closer to you placing a kiss on his lips. It’s felt so natural like his lips were made for yours. He wasn’t a sloppy kisser, every move he made was calculated to prefection.

 Rafe moved the two of you so he was hovering above you on his bed, and you started to move your hand towards the bulge in his pants. He stopped your hands before you could move any further and looked at him. “Ladies first.” He winked at you before trailing kissed down your neck, each spot left tingling. He slowly moved to take your shirt off, “is this, okay?” and you confirmed by taking it off yourself. “You see Y/N/N, the thing about girls is you need to build the pleasure up, take things slow, let them enjoy every moment.” He whispered into your skin and placed more kisses on your collarbones, sucking into the swell of your breast. You let out a soft whimper, and Rafe knew you were puddy in his hands. His hands gently groped your breast over your bra, and you couldn’t remember a time Riley ever made you feel this good. “Can I take this off?” Rafe asked and you nodded your head, “words pretty girl, I need to hear you say it.” Riley never asked this many questions. “Yes, please Rafe.” And with that he reached behind you snapping your bra off without struggling. “How did you do that do so easy?” You asked surprise. “I’ve had some practice.” And with those words, you were reminded how inexperience you were, and how experience Rafe was.

 He could sense the nerves in your body and started to kiss you again removing your bra completely. His eyes went right to your breast and he swore he died and gone to heaven. “Gorgeous.” He looked back at you to see the blush on your cheeks and without breaking eye contact, Rafe took one of your nipples in his mouth, teeth grazing over it. You let out a sigh at the new sensation welcoming your body. He sucked gently at your nipple, tongue circling the sensitive nub and massaged your other breast. He could watch you squirm under him for the rest of his life. “Does this feel-good Y/N?” He asked not breaking eye contact with your face. “Yes Rafe, it-it feels so good.” You spoke up, “more please, Rafe. I need more.” You struggled to form sentences and you barely started. “Okay, don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.” Rafe spoke and he meant those words in more than just a sexual way.

 Rafe started to kiss down your body, pulling your shorts down with your underwear. “I want you to tell me if it doesn’t feel good and I’ll change it up, okay?” He asked concern lacing his voice. Your voice let out a shaky okay, and Rafe started to kiss up and down your thighs before opening your legs to him. “You are so beautiful. You’re soaked for me. That’s good.” He whispered kissing your clit. You jumped at the feeling and Rafe looked at you trying to judge your feelings. “Did that feel good?” He asked. And you nodded your head, “yes please Rafe. I want you.” You spoke and all you could think about was his tongue on your most sensitive body part.

 Rafe took that moment to dive into your dripping core. He licked a long stripe up your cunt, wrapping his lips around your clit again sucking harshly. He continued his movements until his teeth brushed your cunt causing you to flinch and Rafe pulled away. “Sorry, did that hurt?” He asked, and you shook your head. “Okay let’s try this,” he moved his tongue to slowly enter your core and he could feel your clench around him. You threw your head back in pleasure, running your hands through his hair pulling gently. Rafe groaned into your cunt and pushed your hips closer to his mouth. “That’s it pretty girl, are you going to cum for me? Is this the first time you’ve ever cum?” He asked wanting to be your first. “Yes Rafe, you’re the only person that makes me feel like this.” And you didn’t realize what this did to his ego. Eating you out was like a drug he had never done before, and he knew he would never get enough. “You can let go, you can cum for me baby. Let go.” He spoke into your cunt introducing his fingers, his tongue going back to flicking your clit back and forth and you welcomed you orgasm. Your legs were shaking, and it took everything in you not to scream. Rafe helped you all the way to the end of orgasm pulling every bit out of you. He enjoyed watching you like this. The sweat on your forehead, the twitch in your leg, the way your chest heaved up and down. He was falling in love with every little thing.

 He placed kisses back up your body and then on your lips and you pulled him close to you. You could taste yourself on his lips. It was always a taste you didn’t think you liked but on him it just seemed right. “That felt amazing.” You spoke between kisses, “but now it’s your turn.” Rafe had almost forgot about you pleasing him and he’s not sure if he could wait that long. He wanted to be inside of you, “no I’ll wait for another time. Please Y/N I just want you.” He spoke between kisses. “But Rafe”- “No buts. I’ll show you next time. I promise.” “There’s going to be next time?” You asked. You had thought he would do it with you and not be impressed. You had been trying to commit it all to memory, not wanting to forget a single thing. “Of course, I mean, as long as you want there to be another time.” You smiled looking into his eyes. Those beautiful blue eyes you feel in love with, “yes I want there to be another time.” “Okay, well let’s get this show on the road then.” Rafe spoke making you giggle. “I’m not an expert at this put I think you need to have less clothes on.” “Oh yeah? You think.” He said getting up taking his shirt off tossing it on the floor, his pants followed and then his underwear and you were greeted with him in all his glory.

 Rafe was handsome with clothes on, and you had seen him shirtless countless number of times, but something about him like this made you intimidated. He was bigger than your friends had told you, and you weren’t even sure he was going to fit. It’s like Rafe could read you like a book, “don’t worry, it’ll fit. I promise to go slow.” He spoke climb back on the bed hovering above you before placing a loving kiss to your lips. He lined himself up to your entrance and pulled you closer to him. “Wait!” You spoke up and Rafe moved away immediately. “I’m scared.” You whispered not looking at him. You were embarrassed and he moved so you were looking him in the eyes. “It’s okay to be scared. If you want to stop, then we’ll stop, but I promise to take good care of you.” He whispered placing another soft kiss to your lips. This time it was slow, nothing about this moment he wanted to rush. “Okay, I’m ready.” You said, and Rafe looked in your eyes making sure you weren’t lying to him. Once he confirmed it himself, he lined up at your entrance pushing in. He groaned at the feeling, but as soon as he saw you wince, he kissed you again. “You’re doing so well love, so prefect. Tell me when I can move.” He whispered in your ear and you took a moment to get use to the stretch. Once the pain started to subside you confirmed he could move. Rafe pulled out slowly and pushed back into you causing you both to let out moan. “It feels so good Rafe.” You praised him and he start to pump into faster, letting his head fall into your neck placing sloppy kisses there. You could feel your orgasm building again, while Rafe whispered dirty praise in your ear. “you make me feel so good.” “you’re taking me so well.” “you’re so perfect for me.” Each dirty praise bringing the both of you closer to your release. “Rafe, I think I’m gonna”- “I know beautiful, me too. Just a little longer.” He spoke and reached his hand down to start rubbing your clit and it took everything in you not to topple over the edge. “Now pretty girl, cum with me.” He spoke and you could feel him release into you. His orgasm and deep groans triggered your own orgasm. Your walls clenching around him felt amazing and Rafe was sure no one had ever made him feel this good.

 Once the two of you recovered from your orgasm you laid back on the bed and Rafe got up to go to the bathroom. “I heard girls are supposed to pee after sex Y/N. Something about infections.” Rafe spoke from his bathroom. “I don’t know if I ever want to get up, I think I want to stay in this moment forever.” You spoke wrapping yourself up in Rafe’s blankets. He came over and placed to soft kiss to your forehead, “are you saying that because you can’t get up?” “oh Rafe, you know me too well.” “come on, I’ll help you and then we can get in the shower.” He spoke lifting you up effortlessly and caring you into the bathroom. You both stood there, “well…” Rafe motioned to the toilet. “Well Christ Rafe, I can’t pee with you in here. It’s too much pressure.” You explained. “You just came in my mouth, didn’t seem to be too much pressure then.” He teased before leaving the bathroom to get some clothes. Once you finished your business, you opened the door to see Rafe waiting by it. “Let’s get in the shower, maybe I’ll teach you how to make me feel good in there. I always keep my promises y’know.”

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