#no one has to put up with callousness but it’s impossible to change people’s minds I guess

[tricksterlatte]

Guys how did we cycle back to mean-spirited or passive-aggressive comments on fanworks not only being normalized but also as something people should accept lying down for literally any reason? If I wanted unnecessary concrit, I’d go read passive aggressive sticky notes left on the office fridge. It is rude to randomly critique or downright insult someone’s hard work done out of love for a fandom, actually!

[pridewon]

@onehope​​​​ said:  7.  INSOMNIA :  for one muse to find the other still awake at 3am. / ushioi :’))

Ushijima doesn’t typically wake up in the middle of the night. His sleep schedule is as regulated as the rest of his daily routine; and difficult to disturb. Few factors can pull him from his slumber; intense summer heatwaves are most certainly among this elite list. He tosses and turns in his bed, crumpled sheets doing little to help with his predicament (and still, he is also one of those people who struggle to sleep without them - a creature of habit and consistency through and through). 

Ushijima turns on his back and stares at the ceiling, before he decides there is no point in staring at the ceiling, and sits up, and gets up, to find something more interesting or productive to do than staring at the ceiling. From the open suitcase on the floor of his hotel room which he hasn’t taken the time to unpack yet, he slips on a pair of light shorts and a t-shirt, catches his key between calloused fingers, and leaves the room for open (and suffocating - but less so than in his room) air of Fukuoka. 

It doesn’t take long for him to realise he isn’t the only one to have fallen victim to the impossible temperatures of Southern Japan in the summer. The hotel is full of volleyball players; all gathered for a tournament, teams from across the country and nationals living abroad invited for the occasion - some sort of initiative from the JVA. Somehow, Ushijima is not all that surprised to recognise Oikawa’s silhouette leaning over a railing. Somehow, of all the players here, he finds it natural that the one he would stumble upon at three in the morning would be the most most entangled with his life, in the strangest and most puzzling of webs. 

Ushijima is not particularly quiet when he approaches; he is not particularly loud either. His footsteps are muffled like those of a large bear taking his time to draw near, before he joins his unexpected (but sort of expected?) companion in his contemplation of the shores on the horizon line. “Mind if I join you?” He asks, out of courtesy. Reading others has never been his strong suit; but based on his recent experiences with Oikawa, he suspects the question will be met with a smile and and a teasing remark that will equate acceptance. Things have changed, since they last faced each other in highschool - since their last improvised one-on-one in the secrecy of a school gymnasium. Things have changed, for a change that Ushijima, for once, surprises himself with how easily he slips into it. He wonders what is to blame for it: him growing up, or Oikawa making it uncannily easy.

Oikawa does smile, and Ushijima knows it because he is looking at him; against the clear moonlit sky, shrouded in muted blues with shadows forming angles on his face Ushijima isn’t sure he has ever noticed before (everything looks different at night - he likes going for a run very early in winters because of that). Ushijima is looking, and he doesn’t try to hide it; there is very little Ushijima ever actively tries to hide. Ushijima is looking, because he is looking for confirmation for something: something he has noticed, the last time his and Oikawa’s paths crossed at a different tournament abroad; a shift in atmosphere, whenever solitude finds them, a shift in distance they (no longer seem to) put between each other. Ushijima is looking, and there is this subtle shift in the air when Oikawa looks back. If he believed in magic, he might call it a spell. For lack of a better word, he’ll call it... 

... a change. Something new and something he cannot define. Still, even with a lack of words to express it... even Ushijima Wakatoshi has an inkling of suspicion. 

He looks away, conforted, unable to tell if for better or worse; but with the feeling of seeing just a little bit clearer. The warm summer breeze brushes through his hair; calm, olive eyes looking to the shore. 

An inkling of suspicion.  That he grows more persuaded of with each fated meeting their have.  Next to him, Oikawa hasn’t said a word. Ushijima notices he’s looking too; and decides he doesn’t mind either. Let it run its course. See where it takes them. Just like this unexpected meeting at three in the morning. “Do you want to go for a walk?”

[tranzfalgar]

okay it’s time for some stardew valley headcanons for the bachelor/ette(s) so let’s GOOOO

Alex:

- he always awakes before his grandparents, and on warmer days he’ll go down to the beach to watch the sunrise.

- friends with elliot! the two of them sit on the side of the dock sometimes and just chat about life.

- knows how to make cookies, as evelyn taught him when he was a bit younger

- wary of the saloon, as he doesn’t really like the smell of alcohol and only goes into it if he’s forced to!

- if you marry him, he can and will pick you up randomly to surprise you while you’re working!

- if married, he will “bench press” your kids once they become toddlers, and it always makes them giggle

- hates the winter and gets cold really easily. on the first day of fall he’s already bundled up wanting it to be summer again.

Elliot:

- willy is like a father to him. the two of them sit on the docks and watch the fish swim by together

- sometimes he’ll braid his hair, and leah will bring flowers from the forest and weave them into his hair.

- has a rlly pretty singing voice, and likes to record piano covers in his spare time

- if you marry him and the two of u have kids, he’ll always braid their hair in the morning and tuck flowers behind their ears.

- he brings home fresh fish he caught and makes himself dinner every night. that’s why he’s an excellent cook.

- has actually caught a legendary fish before!

- his eyes change color, they can go from blue to green to brown in the same day. people call them the “prismatic shard of eyes”

Harvey:

- he’s so clumsy that sometimes he’ll even trip over air. due to this, he has little bruises all over his knees and elbows.

- his favorite animals are birds. sometimes he’ll go outside and just give them some bird seed. he loves watching them fly around.

- not only is he fascinated with planes, but he’s also fascinated with the weather. as a kid he used to watch the weather channel, and he dreamed of becoming a weatherman.

- when he needs to focus really hard, he’ll pull his hair back with a headband

- him and his mother were and still are very close, and he writes letters to her at least once a week

- he cannot cook to save his life, but he’s an incredible baker! will make you little treats if you’re friends or married

- he always wears a wristwatch, but the time is always 6 minutes behind. he likes it because it has a plane engraved into the side against his wrist.

Sam:

- he had adhd, and his stims include flapping his hands, tapping his foot and strumming his guitar

- he has a beautiful singing voice, think like wilbur soot but a bit more high pitched?

- the reason he likes cactus fruit so much is because he just plants them and lets them grow. he loves succulents because they don’t give him an allergic reaction!

- cannot play video games for shit. sebastian and abigail have banned him from multi-player games because he just sucks so bad.

- love language is acts of service, simply because he likes singing for people he cares about and doing little things for them!

- if you marry him, he will bring his guitar into the coop and/or barn and sing to the animals. they have learned to run over a greet him, since they love his singing.

- his hair is actually curly, but you’re unable to tell due to how much he gels and straightens his hair.

- has mastered the art of the puppy dog eyes

Sebastian:

- loves the hell out of halloween, but is scared of literally everything. he nearly cried watching a horror movie with sam and abigail.

- really good with a slingshot! so if he were to go into the mines, he would wreck some monsters shit with his slingshot skills

- he had glow in the dark stars on his ceiling, but removed them. he used to love the stars and space, but came to resent them because it was his sisters thing.

- he like…irl blushes. like an anime character. when he’s embarrassed, upset, flustered, his face will go all pink. everyone picks on him for it.

- has/had a crush on most of the towns singles. he is a bisexual disaster and secretly a romantic so….take from that what you will.

- a natural born ginger, but dyes his hair. he also has freckles on his nose! and he has an eyebrow slit because of a scar!!

- for some stupid reason, he takes really good care of his hands? like he always makes sure they don’t get calloused, and his nails are always painted black, despite using his hands all the time for work.

Shane:

- he cannot cook. he burned pasta noodles because he didn’t know you had to put water in the pan.

- he still has a chicken plushie from when he was a baby, and it still sits on his bed. and if he cuddles with it at night? no one needs to know.

- has a huge birthmark on his side shaped like a heart

- really good at mixology, so i think that when joja gets shut down, shane works at the saloon and makes the drinks while gus cooks. he adds a whole new section on the menu!

- friends with sebastian. they paint each other’s nails from time to time, or sit in the rain together and just talk.

- kinda strong as hell? he lifts boxes in joja for work, as well as carrying around jas, so i’m assuming he could just….pick the farmer and his friends up?

- he has the most contagious laugh, it used to be a rare sound, but now that it’s a pretty common occurrence, shane makes people laugh all the time with his own laugh.

Abigail:

- buff. she is buff as hell. her and alex work out together sometimes, since she expressed a desire for adventure. she has picked up sam and sebastian with no warning and thrown them into the ocean

- can talk to animals due to her being the daughter of the wizard! so sometimes she’ll go to marnies farm and just chat with the cows or something

- if she sees a tree, she WILL climb it. she loves it so much, it’s just so adrenaline inducing for her.

- her and sebastian tried to go into the mines before but sam stopped them because it wouldn’t have been very safe. they were all 14.

- trying to learn to play the ukulele with a little help from sam. it’s frustrating, but she really likes the sound of it, and she’s determined as hell.

- absolutely cracked at any and all video games he plays. mario kart? she will kick your ass. animal crossing? her island has 5 stars. pokémon? she always wins. you can’t stop her, she’s too powerful.

- she has glasses, but prefers contacts, since glasses would get in the way of her adventuring.

Emily:

- not only can she sew, but she also makes her own soaps and candles! any form of creation she adores.

- loves flowers, and has a lot of little potted ones in her room. she raises them, gives them little names and personalities, and then brings them to sandy and tells her all about each flower

- she can roller skate, and it’s her preferred method of transportation. she can do a bunch of fun tricks as well!

- has an eyebrow slit

- making cute little baskets of homemade gifts is her favorite thing to do for her friends. sometimes she’ll just leave them on their doorsteps for no reason other than she wants to!

- can SPRINT in heels. like even 6 inch heels she can just RUN and it scares everyone who sees it.

- she loves the sounds of birds chirping in the morning, and she’s able to identify the name of the bird by its chirping and calls

Haley:

- is able to perfectly crack and drink from coconuts. that’s why she loves them so much.

- has the worst sense of direction. she’s lucky she lives in a small town, or she’d get lost all the time

- the spring is her favorite time of year, simply because she loves to capture life coming back in those spring months. baby animals, blooming flowers, her friends on the beach or just chilling in the sun, all of it

- her most prized possession is the very first picture her and emily took as kids on their parents polaroid. it’s taped to her mirror

- has a little beauty mark under her lip, but it normally isn’t visible due to being covered with makeup!

- she’s able to do her own nails! this is because she is ambidextrous, yet she doesn’t know, because it’s never been brought up

- she fucking LOVES learning about and identifying plants, trees and flowers. she knows so many it’s crazy. she has a great memory.

Leah:

- resident true crime enthusiast and ghost hunter. she drags elliot with her around town to go hunting for ghosts. they also watch documentaries together!

- has a bunch of little scars on her hands from her artwork

- to get inspiration for works, she’ll go on walks at different times of the day, different seasons, different routes, and she’ll turn each walk into a work of art. depending on all the environment and those who she runs into, each piece is vastly different.

- animals love her, and will sometimes just follow her around for no reason. she doesn’t mind at all, she kinda loves it.

- friends with emily. they are currently teaching each other their own forms of art, since they love learning from each other!

- really good at dancing, she’ll dance while she’s working on projects and she’ll hum a song to herself

- her favorite statue was created after she went on a walk, ran into abigail, and the two of them went swimming in the ocean and stayed there as the sun set and the stars came out. she has a little crush on abigail.

Maru:

- her hair is ALWAYS tied up, it’s impossible for her to work if her hair is in her eyes

- when she was a kid she wanted to be an astronaut, because she loves the stars, but she found she prefers the science and math behind it all

- she pierced her own ears, she has little star earrings!

- watches cartoons and geeks out about them with penny when they meet up in town!

- for some odd reason, she is terrified of butterflies. no one who knows her, or even maru herself have ANY idea why, but she will run away if she sees one.

- her favorite memory was the one night her and sebastian stayed up really late as kids and snuck outside to look at the stars (back when sebastian still loved them) and they ended up seeing a meteor shower

- she presses flowers as a hobby, and just keeps them in a little notebook alongside her ideas for projects and gadgets.

Penny:

- while she’s cleaning her and pam’s home, she finds herself singing to herself. she has yet to be caught by anyone

- each day, her hair is done ever-so-slightly different. each morning, she likes to change it up, and sometimes jas or vincent will give her something to put in her hair

- also interested in ghosts, will occasionally join elliot and leah on their adventures

- she is naturally really warm, so she doesn’t have to bundle up as much during the winter. the kids cling to her because she’s like a human space heater

- has a bit of a geeky side, and she loves to watch cartoons a lot. when she can find the time, she always watches them. they being her lots of comfort.

- has a small scar on her side from when she tripped over as a child onto something sharp. she likes it because with two freckles, it makes a little smiley face

- loves the water and the feeling of sea wind in her hair. she secretly wants to learn to drive a boat, so she can feel that wind in her hair whenever she wants.

[pxnk-velvet]

Hello! Hope you're doing well! So. Ok. So I'm on my pms. I'm in pain and I'm horny af at the same time so fml 🤦‍♀️ . I need some Kakashi smut x fem!reader. I'm sucker for this cold-blooded bastard, who thinks he never finds love and then he is melting in her embrace 🥲

Luv ya 💗

ALL YOURS [NSFW!]

Kakashi Hatake x Fem!Reader

Summary: Y/n L/n. The women that everyone wanted, until Kakashi got his hands on her. To this day, he still couldn’t fathom the things she made him feel.

Warnings: nsfw!, overstimulation, squirting, intended for mature readers only

shawty! this? THIS??? 🖐🏼🥵🥵🥵 this is probably some of the hottest stuff i have ever written lmao 😭 for reallllll. as always feedback and reblogs are appreciated 😊

He was completely enamored with her. It was like he couldn’t get enough of her being. Everything about her was just so hypnotizing. From the way she spoke, plump lips morphing around each syllable, to the way she walked, frame held beautifully as her hips swayed with a natural rhythm. Her skin, delicate and smooth under the touch of his own calloused hands. Her eyes holding so much emotion and so many secrets, drawing in people with just one glance.

Typically Kakashi Hatake wasn’t a man to brag about the things he had or skills he owned. However, with her by his side, he couldn’t help but smirk under his mask knowing that so many other people had pinned after his beloved.

Y/n L/n.

A notorious name known to the hidden leaf and beyond. One of the best kunoichi to ever come from Konoha. Praised and loved by all. Often set as example for many of the young ninja in training. Sought out by both men and women for friendship, love, sex, and other things.

Yet after years and years, she never gave in to the countless offers of love and devotion. Only resorting to giving the lucky person a single night of ecstasy. Leaving them in the morning, only to return home with a stronger yearning for one man. For years she had eyes for him. Growing up and honing a sturdy friendship that lasted decades. Along with their growing bond, grew their feelings for one another.

Quick glances turned into lingering stares. Stories being told whenever they locked eyes, not a single word spoken. Simple touches seemed to last longer than they usually did. A deep desire and passion behind each one. Only up until recently had they come to terms with one another, finally being able to confess after all this time.

Now, Kakashi sat in the hot spring’s warm waters, his gaze trained on his girlfriend relaxing beside him. The mission they had been sent on, now completed early and taken care of. They figured it wouldn’t hurt to stay for one more night and enjoy the hot springs.

His eyes ate up the sight of her. The way her skin held a thin sheen of sweat and condensation, shining in the moonlight. A few strands of hair sticking to her forehead, cheeks, and neck. Lips parted slightly, head tilted back, chest rising and falling gently.

It was ludicrous, really. The way he was looking at her with no shame at all. Eyes raking over ever dip and curve of exposed skin. Focusing particularly on her breasts, the water moving around them, bobbing to become accustomed to their shape. His lustful stare was intense as his eyes continuously absorbed the sight in front of him, yet the whole time she could feel it. With his eyes trained on her, she peeked open one of her own as a shudder ran up her spine, catching a glimpse him.

His hair dampened by the steam, chest glistening in a way that drove Y/n to new heights. The defined muscles accentuated in the moonlight. Nothing but a single, small towel was covering his face, replacing his usual mask. Y/n had insisted that it was alright for him to take it off, yet he still felt obligated just in case some lone stranger decided to stroll in at the dead of night.

“My eyes are up here, you know.” Y/n teased, lifting her head to look straight at Kakashi. The eye contact sending a strike of arousal through both of them. The ache between their legs only getting worse.

“Yeah,” Kakashi mused, eyes flickering down for a second before coming back up with a smirk, “You just look so good like this. I seriously don’t know what I did to deserve a woman like you.” His voice hung in the air like a song, Y/n melting at his words with an adorable giggle.

The water rippled around them as Y/n shifted to settle herself over his lap. Her thighs sat snuggly over his, chest to chest as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She pressed her breasts against him teasingly, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck, a tall tell sign that she wanted him.

“I think....” She began, shifting slightly in Kakashi’s lap, “That we should head back to the room for a little while.” Her words coated in desire as she spoke, looking deeply into his eyes, telling him exactly what she wanted.

Kakashi hummed in agreement as his hands moved to rest on her bare hips, squeezing instinctively as she lightly swiveled her pelvis. All the while the water swayed around them in rhythmic movements.

Without a single word, Kakashi removed the towel covering the lower half of his face, slowly pulling her in for a kiss. Lips slotting together comfortably like so many times before. In a way that if anyone saw, their jealousy was guaranteed. Kakashi really was a lucky man, and he knew it.

The kiss was hot, full of lust and passion as their hands roamed over wet, warm skin. With parted lips, their tongues danced sinfully. All senses heightened, being stimulated simultaneously.

He was like putty in her hands, shivering whenever her fingertips danced over certain spots on his body, blood rushing to his length by the second. Never did Y/n think Kakashi’s body would be so reactive to her touch. Soon she felt his length press against her lower abdomen, chuckling lightly.

“Come on,” She pulled away reluctantly, feeling him resist slightly, “You’re the one who insisted on wearing a mask even though there’s not a single soul here besides us.” A smile teased on her lips as he held her impossibly closer.

A playful sigh left his lips, groaning, “I suppose you’re right....” A flirty tone laying underneath his words, “But we’re already here. To go back to the room we would need to get up, put our clothes back on, only for us to take them off again seconds later.”

The moment he spoke those words, a mischievous smirk etched onto Y/n’s plump lips, an idea blossoming in her head.

Not even a minute later, two of the most respectable ninja of the Hidden Leaf were dashing down the hallway of a lone motel, completely naked, clothes slung over their shoulders as they tried their hardest not to burst out into loud laughter.

The door swung open as the couple rushed in, the air becoming thick with tension as they caught their breath. A small thud could be heard as they threw their clothes elsewhere. Now standing in the middle of the room, eyes locked in an intense gaze, chests raising and falling as they reciprocate from the antics they just partook in.

This feeling of lightness as well as lust swirled around in Kakashi’s chest, something he lived for. The way she made him feel like he was on top of the world with every passing moment was something he craved. The high he gets whenever he was with her was addictive. Something he never thought he’d get to experience in his lifetime. He didn’t ever plan on stopping either.

Within seconds, they has stumbled their way onto the bed in a tangled mess of limbs. Kakashi situated over her frame as his hands moved to wrap her legs around his waist while they were captured in a heated kiss. With this proximity, their skin was warm to the touch as arousal pooled between Y/n’s legs. Now his lips ghosted over her jaw and continued further on to her neck and collarbones.

A delighted sigh fell from her lips as Kakashi ran his tongue over the area he just marked, lips soft as he sucked on the spot that he knew made her go weak in the knees. All the while she managed to snake a hand between their bodies, taking hold of his member, grazing her thumb over the tip and pumping it a few times. His cock felt heavy in her hands as the veins throbbed under her touch. Kakashi wanted nothing more than for her to cast her magic spell and drive him wild.

“Kakashi...” She whispered, bucking her hips up, “I need you.” Her hand trailed up his abdomen, the muscles going taunt under her fingertips as they continued up and into his hair.

“Anything for you.” He mused, his chest inflating, knowing what he was getting himself into. He ran his length through her folds, a pretty moan falling from her lips as he did so, collecting her wetness.

Kakashi hissed at how tight she was, squeezing around his tip mercilessly, almost enticing him in. Y/n’s mouth fell open, eyes rolling back as her walls stretched to accommodate to his size.

It was euphoric, the way she felt. Velvety walls clamping up whenever he withdrew to thrust forward again. One hand gripping the bed sheets beside her while the other was clasped onto her hip.

As his pelvis continued to snap into hers at a steady pace, her breasts bobbed with each thrust. A sight Kakashi would never get tired of seeing.

“Fuck....” He sighed, hand releasing the sheets to take hold of one of her breasts, “You feel so good.” His lips brushed against her with each word, colliding soon after in a messy kiss, consisting of teeth and tongue.

He could feel her orgasam starting to build. The muscles in her lower abdomen contracting as the coil in her core tightened, Kakashi hitting just the right spot. That spongy little spot that held the key to a mind shattering orgasam.

“Kakashi, please!” Y/n whined, teeth grinding as her eyes were squeezed shut, “Fuck, I wanna cum! Make me yours.” With those words, something snapped inside of him, completely gone and focused on only one thing.

Kakashi made quick movements, shifting so he could grab the back of her thighs and press them to her chest. At the new feeling the position change brought, they nearly lost their minds. Y/n’s walls growing impossibly tighter as Kakashi thrusted into her even deeper.

Y/n’s legs dangled in the air as Kakashi held her thighs, pistoning his hips into hers with incredible speed. The squelching of her wetness echoed in the room as she creamed around his cock. Hot tears running down her cheeks as the intense orgasam rushing over her. Incoherent babbles and words leaving her mouth as he worked her through the high.

“Come on, baby,” Kakashi praised, “Just hold on for me for a little bit longer, ok?” He leaned down to place a gentle kiss on her cheek, licking the tears his lips picked up when he pulled away.

With that he worked quick, taking deep and strong strokes as he paced for his own climax. While doing so, Y/n felt another one quickly creeping up on her.

“Fuck, Kakashi! I’m cumming again.” She cried out, the ballon in her core bursting. Her tight cunt spraying all over his thighs and stomach, squeezing him so tight it was almost painful, triggering his own release. He pressed her thighs down, closer to her chest, holding his hips as close as he could to her hot skin. His tip kissing her cervix, painting it with pretty white strands of his cum.

He gently let down her legs, hissing as he pulled out. Y/n whining quietly at the empty feeling, the mixture of their cum leaking out of her cunt and onto the sheets below.

“You did so good, babe,” Kakashi sang, a tired smile etched on his face, arms moving to wrap around her midsection, “You’re the only woman in the world that could make me feel this good.” His words sweet, sounding like music in her ears as she chuckled softly, pulling him in for a gentle kiss.

“I love you, Kakashi Hatake.” She mused against his lips. Running her fingers through his messy hair, eyes now blown with love and admiration.

His smile grew even wider, hand coming up to caress her face, “I love you too, Y/n L/n. More than you know.”

[mrpenguinpants]

Childe/Tartaglia: Fiancé HCs

Aww, I give major points to anyone that actually reads my tags because it’s a whole lot of word vomit and brainworms. THIS IS MY FINAL OFFERING TO CHILDE SO BUDDY  👏 COME 👏 HOME 👏 This will probably be my last fic this week since I’m going to be busy with term tests and 1.1. Can you tell how slow I am with these asks?

I need to stop tagging so much because tumblr keeps making me repost...

This isn’t necessarily a part 2 from my other Childe fic [ “Enemies” to “Lovers” ] but you can go ahead and read it that way. Not sure if this counts for tags but it doesn’t hurt. To be honest, I was planning for this to be the direct part 2 but then his character story dropped and I got slapped in the face with inspiration.

 [taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@youaskedfurret​ @diaxfeliz​ @wintergreen-aix​ @dandelily​ @thegayrubberducky​ @lovelykittycatmeow​ @yuunoagivesmelife​  @dokidokisama @hanniejji​  @mikeysbike​ @unionwitch​ @musekala​ @twistedsunnshiii​ @stanzastic​ @akaasea​

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Childe/Tartaglia: Fiancé HCs

Your relationship with Tartaglia is unorthodox to say the least. Usually, the average length of an engagement is 13 to 18 months but you didn’t need a calendar to tell you it’s been far longer than that. You probably spent more time with your fiancé’s sister than with the man himself but that was okay with you. Tonia was a really sweet girl and you knew what you were getting into when you accepted and returned his feelings when you two first started going out.

Before he became a Harbinger you were friend’s with him and Tonia. Almost everyone in Snezhnaya was part of the Fatui, working in factories, or a devote follower of Tsaritsa. So it was a breath of fresh air to meet two people that didn’t align themselves to that mindset or become a slave to work. You slowly became closer to the two siblings until the day a stuttering and pink Tartaglia confessed his feelings to you. You think back on that moment fondly since that was probably the first and last time you’ve seen him act in such a shy manner.

The day he proposed to you was the night right before he became a Harbinger. It wasn’t anything grand and you were pretty sure he hadn’t even told Tonia he was planning on proposing that very night. He said that he was waiting for the right moment and somehow felt the right moment was when you were in-between consciousness. When you couldn’t even give him a proper answer since he popped the question right as you fell asleep, but for all intensive purposes, that was probably on purpose. You had to chase him down in freezing cold weather, coat not even properly tied, as you yelled he was a piece of shit and that if he never came back you would hunt him down and kill him yourself.

He just grinned innocently and waved back to you as the ship departed. When asked by a curious merchant who wasn’t native to Snezhnaya asked if he had some...family issues he simply waved it off and said you were his beloved fiancé. The merchant was left very confused on Snezhnaya’s customs and traditions on marriage.

You both made an agreement that only he would write to you. He said that it was because trying to get in contact with him would be impossible, considering how often he moves, plus the different names he goes under. But in actuality, it’s because he want’s to keep the people closest to him as private as possible. The Fatui know of his sister already and most likely know of your existence but as long as he remains a Harbinger they can’t do anything. He won’t let them. But the Fatui have many enemies and while he hates denying your existence, if it’s to make sure you live a peaceful life with his sister, he’ll continue to pretend he’s never heard of your name before.

While he writes to his sister that he’s taking care of trivial matters when he’s on his assignment, he writes a bit more honestly and detailed in his hidden letters to you. You make sure to keep them in a box hidden away from Tonia so she never discovers them but you have an inkling she knows what her brother is up to. She watches the way your face pinches, that your fingers clutch the paper a little tighter, and how you seem to tap the page two times in sequence.

Despite the raging winter storms that swirl around Snezhnaya, you are always warm. He thinks you’re secretly a pyro vision user waiting for the right moment to make good on your word and burn him alive. Whenever his travel’s run late into the night and he arrives home tired and cold, he seeks Tonia’s room to make sure she’s sleeping peacefully. Then to you to do the same. Sometimes when you’re lucky and you wake up early, you’re greeted to Tartaglia clinging onto you refusing to move because you’re warm. Even going through daily routine’s he always has an arm around you or some part of his body against yours. You feel that his habits is rubbing off on his sister because slow morning’s like these see’s you as the human heater. With Tonia hugging you from the front, arms wrapped around your waist, while Tartaglia support’s from behind, arms around the both of you. Your hands laced with his as you both act as a shield for little Tonia.  

Tartaglia’s hands are always numb. He could be in Natlan where it never snows or facing the harsh winters of Snezhnaya, they are always numb. As if the skin of his fingertips were scalded off. Touching anything gives him an uncomfortable sensation so he wears gloves all the time except for two occasions. When he need’s to replace his gloves with a new pair or to lace your hand into his. He can vaguely feel the heat from your hand, see that you don’t have the same callouses that he has from wielding weapons, and can feel the same tingling sensation that would usually have him wrenching his bare hand away if it had been anything or anyone else, besides his sister of course. Instead he holds on as if you’re his last lifeline in the middle of the ocean, commits to memory the feeling of your hand in his, and the pins and needles that prick his fingertips fade away.

He grows restless when life is ordinary and boring so he’s always off fighting or doing something completely dangerous. He was the same before he became a Harbinger which leads to some fights between the two of you. You both handle fight’s pretty badly due to the upbringing of Snezhnaya and it makes Tonia sad when she sees her family argue. So instead you convey your inner worries through taps. One is for annoyance. Two is for worry. Three is for anger.  Likewise, Tartaglia has his own system.

On one rare occasion, Zhongli managed to catch the sight of a flicker of light on Tartaglia’s clothing. It confuses him since aren’t ring’s meant to be worn on the hand? The only response he get’s from Childe when he asks why is a vague answer filled with mirth. He say’s that he’s holding onto it for someone. Zhongli doesn’t quite understand since wouldn’t it be better to keep the ring in a box if it were meant for someone else? Childe wears a ring on his pinky already but it might be a Snezhnaya tradition to wear one ring on the hand, while the other is close to the heart.

He keeps his cheerful attitude on even when it feels as if the world is crushing him. That might be why he names himself Childe. But when it’s just the two of you he takes the mask off, the armor slips off, and let’s himself relax. Time’s like this he just wants to hold you and as he puts it, recharge.

For all his confident nature in fighting he knows that a committed relationship with him is hard. That if you ever want to walk away and find someone new he won’t stop you, but that you never contact him or his family. He won’t open his heart for another person for a long while or ever. He would still give you your ring and whatever you choose to do with it is up to you.

Tartaglia’s goals won’t change. He still has his family to take care of and even if you decide to leave, that doesn’t change the fact he still sees you as apart of his family.

You don’t mind if his goal takes him away from Snezhnaya for years and years. Or if the letter’s he writes become fewer and fewer.  As long as he comes home you don’t mind waiting.

It’s the middle of the night and he’s still awake. He just returned from his last assignment and Tsaritsa is already sending him across Teyvat for “business” related reasons. He just finished checking up on Tonia to see her sleeping soundly. She’s growing up really fast, he smiles slightly at the thought. She can already sleep on her own. He gently opens the door to your room, well really it’s both of yours but he hasn’t been doing a lot of sleeping there, and cringes slightly at the creek the doors give.

He takes a small minute to lean on the doorway and relaxes. He won’t have enough time to bask in your presence if he’s too make it on time. The winter storm continues outside, as if Tsaritsa herself is yelling at him to start moving. He doesn’t think there’s ever been an instance when they’ve been silent.

“I care about three things in this world. My sister, you, and my home,” Tartalia says softly as he walks over and kneels down beside your laying form, resting his hand beside yours as he places a soft kiss on temple. “When those three things are safe I can rest.”

You tap him two times. Your hand has laced around his in a loose grip to which he tightens. You both sit in silence as he wait’s for the pins and needles to stop spreading across his arm before speaking again.

“I know I already proposed but let’s elope somewhere. My next assignment is taking me to Liyue. I heard it’s quite a beautiful place. I’m thinking a spring wedding perhaps?”

One more tap but he’s learned to take your annoyance as you jesting or being flustered.

“Promise me you’ll be safe,” you ask.

“I can try but I can’t guarantee everyone else will be,” he laughs.  

You tap him three times. If you weren’t half asleep you would have probably thrown your pillow at him. He gives one last chuckle as his finger’s rubs patterns into your hand.

“I promise,” he swears.

He hears you hum happily as you begin to relax back into slumber. Slowly letting the feeling of his heartbeat lull you to sleep until your grip loosens around his wrist. Even as the winter winds howl outside you can sleep so peacefully. Unlike him where in the back of his mind are restless thoughts. Tsaritsa is asking something huge of him, another test of his loyalty and strength. He silently stands up as to not wake you again, gives you one last squeeze of the hand, one last fond look, before he leaves. Closing the door as quietly as he can, he steels himself to go back out into the cold.

[blueeyedgeorgie]

Safety-Dreamwastaken

A/N: This is IF Tommy and Dream escaped together 

Word count: 2.4k+

Pronouns: They/Them _________

"What?"

Their breath was shaky as they spoke. At this point, Y/n was frozen in place. It had been such a normal day, Y/n had gone deep in the forests with Callahan to collect materials for some building. But when they returned, havoc was among them. People were running around in a panic, the prison was destroyed. Destroyed-Just the sight of the prison put Y/n in panic. All they could do was run, they needed to find someone, anyone who would explain what happened. It had taken minutes, but felt like hours. Finally, they had located someone-Tubbo.

"Y/n!"

"Tubbo!" They pulled one another into a hug, both were exhausted. They treated one another as family, Y/n being Tubbo's older sibling figure. "What happened?!" "I'm sorry Y/n, but Dream escaped prison."

It felt like a slap in the face to receive this news. The color in their face disappeared. This was bad news. "No... no, this can't be true.... I... how?"

"Something to do with Ranboo. Tommy and Ranboo are gone too. No one knows where they are."

Y/n took a step back, feeling their breath shorten. This couldn't be happening. Everything had gotten good,  they were safe. They were safe from Dream. It felt so amazing, but now... everything was going to hell. If Dream was out of Prison, what were the chances he'd come after Y/n? They had known each other since the very beginning, they were friends, but soon it had turned into something toxic. He had manipulated them so much, to the point Y/n was broken down and suffering from a bit of PTSD from everything.

They could still remember the night before Dream planned to capture Tommy and kill Tubbo. They were hiding away in Dream's lair, where he planned to keep future items and belongings of members.

“Please don't do this, Dream.” They were on the brink of tears, “this isn't going to end well.” “This isn't going to end well for Tommy, Y/n.” Dream turned away from the portal, looking at his friend. “Why are you crying? We're friends, aren't we? I said you'd be safe.”

“I'm not crying over my safety,” Y/n stepped closer to Dream, looking up at him. “I'm crying over yours, I don't want you to get hurt.”

The blonde man made a 'tsk' noise, his hand shot up to Y/n's face, grabbing their chin. His green eyes stared down into their e/c ones. A look of disproval was on his face. “Crying is a weakness, Y/n. I thought I taught you better than that.” He wasn't wearing his mask, Y/n was one of the few people to see his face. The only reason they had seen his face was a way to get Y/n to trust him. “Everything's going to end well. Tommy will end up in prison and Tubbo... he'll most likely be dead by sun rise.”

“What?” Y/n froze at the mention of Tubbo. Dream could tell he had just struck fear in them. “Please, not Tubbo. Please, Dream.”

“I'm sorry Y/n...” He now cupped their face with both of his calloused hands, dragging his thumbs under their eyes to wipe away a few fallen tears. “It has to happen.”

“No,” their voice cracked as their eyes watered more. “Please no.” They pulled away from his grasp, tumbling a few steps back. “I've done everything for you. I put the TNT in the community house, I helped you build this hellsite, I did everything. Why? Why can't you do this one thing for me?” Tears were falling as Y/n raised their voice. “Why? Why do you need to kill Tubbo, my brother!" Y/n froze, that was the first time they had called Tubbo their brother, it felt good to say it.

his face showed no emotion as he watched Y/n. His lips parted, only mumbling a few words coldly; "Go home, Y/n. You're tired. You need rest."

“No! You don't get to push me away or order me to do something when we talk about something I want or that I care about! You can't do this to me!”

His gaze grew cold, his eyes beginning to glare, "Go home, Y/n."

"No."

"Fine," In one motion, he unsheathed his sword, beginning to walk towards the portal behind him. "If Tubbo is such a problem, I'll get rid of him now."

"No!" Y/n practically threw themself at Dream, grabbing onto his arm to stop him. "I'm going, I'm going. Please, I'll leave. i'll go home and sleep."

Dream smirked down at his friend, putting his weapon away. "Good. Get a good night's rest, you'll need it."

Y/n nodded, keeping their head down in embarrassment. It was cruel to think he could control them so easily. Right as they got to the portal, Dream had called for them one more time. "Oh and Y/n... If you think about spoiling my plans for tomorrow, I promise you I'll make sure Tubbo is dead before I go for Tommy. You know I always keep my promises."

Y/n winced at the thought, barely nodding. This was humiliating.

With Dream out of prison, there was only one thing Y/n planned to do; protect Tubbo. For the rest of the day, the pair walked around with Y/n holding a grip on their sword, constantly looking over their shoulder. Dream was a good fighter, better than Y/n no doubt, but they still needed to at least try and keep Tubbo safe.

When the day had come to an end, Y/n was still on their toes. Of course, Tubbo could tell, so he did the one thing he could think of. He took them up the highest hill, just to watch the sunset. It was one of their favorite things to bond over, they were both busy people, just being able to sit and catch up with each other was something nice.

"You know..." Tubbo picked at his pants as he spoke, he was a bit nervous to bring up the next topic in mind, but it had to be done. "You've never really talked about what was going on between you and Dream. Before he was in prison and everything. Tommy and I would see you and him together, but we understood why."

"You wanna know something, Tubbo?" Y/n sucked in a breath of air, they knew they had to talk about this eventually. "My role was to serve, that's all he needed me for. Yet..." they paused, looking into the sunset. Was it going to be a smart idea to say the next few words in their mind? "I still love him."

"What?" Tubbo's mouth fell agape. he felt something in his stomach lurch, his older sibling had fallen in love with his enemy. "I... I don't understand."

"I don't expect you to," Y/n could look Tubbo in the face, not right now. "I don't really understand it. I fear that man with half of my heart, the other half lives for that rush when I see him. He's like a drug, I'm willing to do almost anything for him. I live for his approval, I love when he says I've done good or tells me I deserve a reward, stuff like that."

"Y/n..."

"God, I'm so sorry, Tubbo. I really am. I... I don't know what's wrong with me." Y/n shook their head, realizing what they just said. "That... that was fucked up, I shouldn't have said that. Especially to you, you're just a kid, you've gone through enough trauma already. You don't need your sibling scaring you like this."

"No, it's... it's not okay, but it's whatever. I'm just happy you feel okay opening up to me about this. I'm gonna be honest here, Y/n... I'm not really sure what to say to any of this. It feels kind of like you've fallen in love with the enemy here."

A moment of silence followed, neither knew what to say. An unusual tension summoned, it felt strange. Normally, both Tubbo and Y/n were very comfortable around each other, but after Y/n's confession... it all seemed so strange.

Instead of breaking the silence, they sat there. Both kept their focus on the sun, watching it disappear from sight, the sky changing colors as the light left the sky. It had taken a while, but the sun had finally disappeared from sight. The pair sat there, staring off in different directions. The sky was filled with stars, it'd be impossible to see if they were closer to town than they already were.

"I... " Y/n paused, they didn't know what to say. There was so much they could say. "I think I'm gonna go to bed." Standing they muttered a brief 'good night'.  They could hear Tubbo say 'night' to them as they walked away.

This would be the first time Y/n would be alone since they heard of Dream's escape. Honestly, it was going to be hard for Y/n to fall asleep tonight. They already knew they wouldn't feel safe in their own home. As they walked, they could still remember the time when Dream had convinced them to tell him all of the secrets of their house. He knew every passage, every hidden item, any secret entrances.

"This is where I keep my iron and armor," They opened a chest, revealed stacks of iron bars sitting by two chest plates. Dream loomed over them from behind, he glanced into the chest for a brief moment before turning to walk somewhere else.

For the past hour it had been like this; Y/n showing everything there is to show in their home while Dream inspected. Y/n wasn't too sure why they were doing this, but Dream found it important. Whatever seemed necessary in his eyes, Y/n had to comply; it was just the rules.

"Don't you think I've shown you enough?" Y/n chewed on their bottom lip as they spoke, they were a bit anxious to hear his response. It wasn't a good idea to go against him, but at this point, it felt like Y/n had shown him enough.

The dirty blonde paused, turning on his feet to face his friend. "Are you trying to tell me I'm wrong for trying to protect you?"

"What, I-... no..." "I'm only trying to protect you, Y/n. There's going to be people who will want to hurt you, I can keep you safe if I know where your belongings and materials are. I can keep you protected if I know where all the entrances are to your home. Don't you want me to keep you safe?"

Y/n muttered a sheepish; "yeah," as they kept their head down. Moments like these always made them feel so weak.

"And just remember..." Y/n could feel their gaze point upward, Dream had placed a hand under their chin, forcing them to look him in the eye. "I'm never wrong, I know what's good for you."

Their house would no longer be known as a safe space for Y/n. As soon as Dream was imprisoned, Y/n had changed a lot about their house-but there was still a good chance of Dream finding a way to break in. When their home came into view, Y/n picked up their pace. Even if their home wasn't technically safe any longer, it'd still be better than standing out and alone in the dark.

With the door closing behind them, Y/n let out a sigh. Hopefully, they'd be able to find some way to get their mind off of Dream. They made their way through their home, putting away items and even turning on a bit of music as they did. The music was loud enough for Y/n's footsteps to drown out as they walked, loud enough to even drown out the sound of opening and closing chests, putting their belongings away.

Something seemed off, it looked like a few items were missing. A few pieces of armor, enchanted items, and even weapons. Y/n shook it off, they were just overthinking. It was normal for them to accidentally overcount in their stock.

Y/n had placed a few more items down into the last chest, a few apples and carrots they had collected earlier that day. It seemed like everything was going to be okay... until it wasn't.

Just as Y/n closed the chest, the music stopped. They froze. Y/n was supposed to be the only one here, the music shouldn't have stopped by itself. But it did.

There wasn't much they could do, they could run and hide-he'd find them. They could escape-He'd catch them. They could fight-he'd overpower them. What was the best option? Running would make him mad, fighting would make his blood boil-hide. Y/n would just have to try and hide.

Quickly they scanned over the room, chests filled with items were stacked. The room was like a maze, there had to be some chest they could slide into. As they moved, they stayed quiet, one little noise could ruin their chance of safety. The room was big, if they weren't careful they would get lost. Step by step, row by row, they passed by the chests. Every few seconds, they would glance over their shoulder-looking for him.

Just as they went to look over their shoulder for the hundredth time, they froze. Y/n's blood turned cold-the door opened. Heavy footsteps echoed through the room, the sound f metal dragged on the floor. He had a weapon.

"Y/n. I know you're in here..."

Should they run? Should they hide? Should they scream for help and pray someone will hear them?

Holding their breath, Y/n listened to the steps. One wrong move and it was all over for them. Sooner or later, they began to move, trying to stay silent as they listened for Dream's footsteps.

"Come out, this can be so much easier. If only you didn't act like this."

Y/n held their breath as they kept their pace up.

"You know I would never do anything to hurt you. You make me happy; and even more happy to you feel the same, right?"

They could feel their heartbeat rise.

"I know you better than yourself. I know you're in here."

Their pace quickened, listening to him.

"Luckily, it's only going to be me and you soon."

Faster-they were almost there.

"And before you know it-"

Their pace quickened, at this point Y/n was sprinting. Within seconds, they launched themself forward... only to land into someone's arms. An ax clattered to the ground as a pair of arms enveloped Y/n. Dream grinned, looking down at the person in his arms. Everything was going to plan.

"I missed you."

"I missed you too."

Taglist: @ivory-raptor @behzynga​ @snowcones404 @delsinhunter @kiritokunuwu @part-of-too-many-fandoms29​

[mypoisonedvine]

how about a dark bucky x naive reader where he always gets nightmares and she is always trying to help him (making him tea, laying with him til he sleeps, etc.) and one night she laying beside him and he’s having a nightmare and he traps her and says “this is the way to help me” and then there’s non/dubcon since she does want to help him 😳🥺

oh my godddd i love this!!  anon your mind.... this idea has been living in my brain rent free ever since you sent it it.

noncon, yandere-ish bucky, breeding kink, slight somnophilia and more below the cut people, watch out

he would definitely be really sweet at first, even with his brooding and aura of mystery

so it’s impossible for you to resist trying to get to know him better even as he seems to avoid you sometimes

eventually he opens up enough to tell you about his nightmares, and you feel awful about it.  he struggles to get enough sleep and sometimes he’ll try to get you to hang out late and you realize it’s because he’s afraid of trying to sleep at all.

you tell him to spend the night in your room and you guys can hang out and have a classic high school-style sleepover with junk food and movies.  you figure maybe it’ll distract him and maybe he’ll stay up so late that when he’s exhausted, he’ll be able to fall asleep easily.

it’s a lot of fun but it doesn’t seem to help much.  and it gets awkward when he makes a move on you and you do your best to gently rebuff him.   i like you a lot but i don’t like you like that-- i just want to be your friend, if i can 

it’s never an easy conversation to have but he seems to take it well, or as well as he could be reasonably expected to

your next solution was tea with melatonin.  he got to bed easier but he still had terrible nightmares and you had to wake him up because he nearly choked you out in his sleep.

finally, he asked you to sleep beside him in his bed, and you felt a little conflicted about it.

I know the last time you were around me while I slept went... really poorly... but I promise, I won’t hurt you.  I could never hurt you.

you agree only because you want to help him so badly

at first it’s normal, even sweet.  you brush your teeth together in the bathroom, you change into your comfiest pajama set and try to ignore that he’s sleeping shirtless.

you fall asleep pretty easily, and hope that he’s doing the same

but not so much later, you wake up to metal fingers pushing up the bottom of your shirt, running over your hips and waist

you mumble through the haze of half-sleep to ask him what’s going on but stop when you feel his hand slide under the fabric and wrap around your breast.

you open your mouth to speak but no words come out. you're totally paralyzed.

he slides closer and you feel his entire body pressed against your back. he's so warm, it's almost hot to the touch. hottest of all is the hard outline of his cock pressing right into your ass.

he rolls his hips against you and lets out an incredibly soft moan-- that's when you realize that he must be having some very strange dream or nightmare, that he isn't meaning to do this to you.

bucky, wake up! you're having a nightmare...I think...

I'm awake, the voice right beside your ear informs you. that or I'm having the best dream of my life.

you stammer because you have no idea what is going on. w-wait...

this is the only thing that's helped. I never told you, but the nights where I tired myself out by jerking off and imagining you, those were the ones where I slept the best. but it didn't fix it completely. I just know if you help me, the nightmares will go away.

before you can even speak again he's talking over you, sounding less sweet and more stern.

don't you wanna help me, doll? don't you wanna help me feel good? don't worry, I'll make you feel good too...

the hairs on the back of your neck are standing up because you know something is horribly wrong, but you want to give him a chance. still, you're unsure. I don't know...

you don't know? you said you were my friend. friends help each other.

you gulp and answer sheepishly, o...okay...

thanks, doll. I knew I could count on you.

he grabs your hand and pulls it down. you gasp as he wraps it around his manhood-- it's thick, and hard yet silky.

you've never touched a cock before have you?

you feel embarrassed, you realize you must be doing something wrong already if he noticed your lack of experience.  um, no... I haven’t...

oh I don't mind! it's a good thing. your hands are really soft... so much softer than mine.

you stay still and let him fuck into your hand, your face burning with shame even though you began to feel arousal tingle between your legs.

after a little more of that, he moves you around until he’s hovering over you, his hips between your legs.

I wanna try something different-- it’ll be better.

before you can stop him he’s rubbing his cock against your crotch, through your flimsy little shorts, and the sensation sends shivers up your spine.  you had touched yourself before, but this felt totally different.  

with him on top of you like this, you feel so small. his body towers over and envelops yours, but even with all that strength his little moans sounded gentle and vulnerable.

he leans down and you can feel his breath on your neck, his long hair falling down and tickling your face while his stubble scratches against your cheek

fuck, I love you, he murmurs into your ear.

what?! you try to recoil but you're trapped between him and the bed.

don't you love me too? I know you do.

you shake your head, you can’t even believe what’s happening.  I told you, we're just friends

he grabs your jaw suddenly, forcing you to look at him, and even in the dark you can see his eyes burning with anger.

I know you love me. if you don't, you will.

he starts to move his hips back and pull your pajama shorts to the side, and for all your naivete you know exactly what's about to happen.

bucky, please-- don't put it in me-- no, stop, wait--!

he shoves into you, groaning as your unwilling body is forced to accept him

hnng, you're so tight doll. can't you feel how wet you are? that's how I know you love me. god, you feel so fucking good.

you sob and try to push at his shoulders but he's like fucking granite.

don't fight it, it’s gonna feel good for you soon... you just need time to get used to me.

you can’t imagine how this could ever feel good, it stings and makes you feel nauseous-- that is, until he reaches down and swipes his calloused thumb over your sensitive bud.  

your whole body jerks and your fingers dig into his shoulders.

oh, do you like that princess?  

you want to deny it but you’re too busy bucking your hips involuntarily, chasing more sensation

fuck, you’re a needy little thing, huh?  you need me so bad... don’t worry, I’m here to take care of you.  god, you don’t know how long I’ve waited for the chance to take care of you....

suddenly the burn inside you begins to subside and you feel the tip of his cock rubbing against something that makes your walls tighten around him with every thrust. 

you hear your whimpers of pain morph into moans of pleasure, and you can hardly believe the noises are coming from you.

feels good, doesn’t it?  god, you’re such a tease... inviting me for a sleepover-- you don’t even know what that means for adults, does it?

guilt burns in your stomach as you wonder if you really did lead him on, if it means something different than you thought and that’s why he came onto you.

and before that, spending nearly every day with me and talking with me about things I’d never told anyone before... you may have fooled yourself but I knew you wanted me so damn bad.

had you??  you couldn’t remember now.  of course you’d always thought he was cute, that was objectively true, but you were just trying to be his friend...

and now you act so shocked and confused when I fuck you, but within a few minutes you’re moaning and begging for more.  

you don’t remember any begging.

his thrusts get a little rougher and you choke on nothing.

I know you want it.  I know you need it-- need me.

you can tell you’re going to come, but it doesn’t feel like how it feels when you’re by yourself.  it feels so much more intense, electric even, and you’re not sure you’ll be able to handle it.

god, i’m so close-- you’re close too, aren’t you?  you feel so good, doll.  feel so good around my cock.  fuck, you want me to come inside?

no, buck, you can’t-- i’m not--

oh it’s gonna feel so fucking good to fill you up, doll... and i know you’re gonna love how it feels when i come inside you.

you start to cry again, terrified that he’s going to get you pregnant when you’ve never even had sex before now.  please-- stop... i’ll help you again tomorrow, i’ll help you whenever you want, just please don’t come inside me...

oh doll, you’re gonna help me every night now, don’t worry about that.  gonna fuck you again before the night’s over, more likely than not.  gotta keep those nightmares away until I can only dream of you.

against everything in you hoping not to, you come suddenly.  you feel yourself tightening and fluttering around him as your whole body convulses.  

when your back arches, he slips his arms under you and holds you close, fucking into you with brutal speed and force.

fuck, right there-- fuck, doll, i’m coming, oh fuck!

with a deep growl he pushes his hips against yours as hard as he can, burying himself in your pulsating warmth.  you whimper and cry as his cock flexes with each spurt of come emptied into you.  it feels like it goes on forever, his come coating your walls while he sucks on the crook where your neck meets your shoulder.

fuck, baby... you’re incredible...

you shiver, waiting for him to pull out and roll off of you, but he just relaxes and kisses all along your collarbone.

god, I could fall asleep like this.  I sure as hell couldn’t have any nightmares with you keeping my cock warm in my sleep.

bucky... what if you got me pregnant?

oh, don’t talk like that, he purrs, you’ll get me all worked up and I’ll have to fuck you again.

he kisses you on the nose and it’s so disgustingly intimate.

I think I’ll be able to sleep again, at least for a few hours. come on, let’s move over to my side of the bed and you can be my little spoon.

[hobidreams]

december 1868.

just how much would you give up for him?

pairing: joseon king!yoongi x reader genre: angst, brief smut words: 1.1k contains: historical au, mentions of explicit sexual content, eunuch kim!

moonlit throne index. this is drabble nine. start from the beginning?

“Excuse me, the king said what?”

You stand in the doorway of your room, mouth agape as you stare with incredulity at Eunuch Kim. By all means a gentle man, he looks taken aback by your sudden burst of defiance and you don’t blame him for it. It is so unlike you to drop composure in public, but you couldn’t help it just this once because—

“He has commanded you to move,” he repeats.

To move.

To uproot the home you’ve made of this tiny space, to leave the people you’ve lived and worked beside your entire life. How far would he have you go? Out of the palace grounds, out of the town even? Would across the country be enough now that he wanted to be rid of you?

“He has prepared Hamhwadang Hall for you.”

The world around you freezes to ice as you process the words that have somehow made all of this more confusing. “W-What?” Your eyes narrow, blinking rapidly in confusion. “Is it not currently occupied?”

He shakes his head. “No. Jeonha has moved the women that remain into the residence next door, whether they wished to go or not. And if you so want, he will move them further.”

Eunuch Kim might as well be speaking Chinese with how much you understand this.

The king means to give you the entire hall? The one right next to his secluded gardens, where you have once again taken to occasionally wandering through? It’s much, much too big for any one person, especially with the minimal amount of possessions you have to your name. It all makes no sense, though that would perhaps suit his actions as of late. No sense, unless he wants you… closer.

Closer, like he is practically every other night since the first. Fucking you into an abused pillow, getting steadily louder with his moans while he leaves imprints on your body by any means necessary. Carnal when a strong hand wraps around your throat, needing the reassurance that you are bent to his whim as if all of this wasn’t already enough. Only recently, and only the once, has he spun you around to face him. You had been greedy in taking in the debauched sight of his need: the scowl, the flushed cheeks, the pools of sweat glistening on his bare skin. That night, the insistent nudge of his crotch against your clit in this new position brought you to your first proper climax, one that had left you a shivering mess for long after he had gone.

Closer. Yes, if you lived in the hall, he would have more privacy to come and go as he wished, with a few less sets of prying eyes. He could have more time to take what he wanted, without worry of being overheard by your neighbours. There comes that word again, surfacing in your mind regardless of your efforts to tamp it down. Convenient. That is what you are, among the other things that have begun to make their rounds through the palace in attachment to your name in lieu of your proper, working title.

Eunuch Kim’s expression turns awkward, apologetic as your emotions wane right in front of him. “If possible, he wishes for you to complete the move by tomorrow evening. But I can attempt to reason with him for some more time if you would like it. I would try to change his mind entirely, but you and I both know that he…”

You shake your head. “Thank you, but it’s alright. I’ll move. I can do it in that time. There’s not much.”

“Jeonha... I believe he is planning to move your apothecary area into the building as well. It’ll be bigger, if he does. Possibly open up a second infirmary too.”

You can tell that he’s trying to comfort you and for that, you muster a small smile. “That would be nice. I could always use the space, though I never thought there would be this much of it.”

He smiles back, cheeks dimpling slightly.

“I will begin packing then,” you say. You have an hour before you go to bed, and you might as well make the most of it. Even if your haste is partly stirred by wanting to put off the coming of morning.

Tomorrow, you’ll have to break the news to your fellow uinyeo. Really, this shouldn’t have come as too much of a surprise, now that your initial shock has worn away. The women… involved with the king are often given a few luxuries, but since it is impossible for you to become an official concubine, not even a sanggung with the lack of blue in your blood— how strange this must look. How much the palace will talk, uncaring about whether you overhear them or not because what can you do about it? You’re nothing more than a woman who has forever lost her chastity and gained nothing in exchange.

You wrap your arms around yourself, the cold suddenly working through your hanbok more acutely.

“I shall send a few of the junior eunuchs to assist you in the afternoon.” The soothing voice separates you from your thoughts. “If that’s alright with you.”

“Yes. Thank you.” You should let him go; the wind is starting to pick up and you don’t want him to fall ill. But instead, you murmur on instinct, “Namjoon-ssi...” It feels a little strange on your tongue since you haven’t called him that in so many years, but it makes his eyes soften. “Am I— Am I doing the right thing?”

“You’re doing the best you can.” Another smile, though this one is worn, tired around the edges. You think his words could apply to himself too. “Please. Sleep well.”

“...I will try.” You bow, and part.

Against the door, looking at the room you are so soon to leave, you breathe a small sigh.

After tomorrow, you will be living mere minutes from the king. Tomorrow, you will likely be beneath him again, submitting to the calloused hands that move roughly against your curves, the bite of his teeth at the nape of your neck. You’ll lose yourself in the feeling and let it linger as long as you can, even though this is never how you imagined having (if this even is such) the king, the man, the boy you fell in love with at fifteen.

[outoftheframework]

characterization cheat sheet: the batfamily boys

Hey everyone! I had the idea to compile a comprehensive list of different traits and attributes for each member of the batfamily based off of both canon and fanon interpretations. I think this could be useful for new members to the fandom, or those looking to write and/or draw for these characters. Remember that these will have a slight bias considering I, a fanon creator, am creating the lists. But I’ll try to make them as accurate as possible.

Appearances vary from artist to artist, so I’ll try to stray away from general details and add more little things you can consider in your art.

Bruce Wayne:

Age: 35-45

Appearance: Extremely physically fit, but signs of aging and prolonged exertion can slip through. Has a collection of scattered scars varying from fresh to fully healed. Strong, dark features. Conventionally attractive, but can easily switch to be foreboding/intimidating. Well kept in public appearances, but can look like death incarnate when in private.

Personality: Dual personas: “Bruce” (at home, but not as batman) and “Brucie” (public appearances like galas, news interviews). Bruce is stoic, well-read and educated, well-mannered, and occasionally can be witty and laid-back. Smirks rather than smiles. Brucie is loud, spontaneous, charming, and sometimes oblivious. He is the womanizer and scandal-maker. Often the actions of Brucie are motivated by Batman’s interests.

Speech: Bruce was mainly raised by as English butler, so his speech patterns are proper and smooth. Rarely uses speech fillers such as “uh” and “um,” except when interrupted while concentrating. Despite living in Gotham his entire life, he has not picked up the accent. His voice is newscaster American, almost impossible to pinpoint to a certain region. His speech as Brucie changes to relate more to the audience he is addressing. Speeches to Gotham high society will sound different than those aimed to the general public.

Additional Attributes: Bruce Wayne in all of his personalities is fiercely protective, and can easily slip into a deeper voice to intimidate. Bruce can be extremely empathetic and slightly impulsive when it comes to children who have lost their parents. As learned through his training to become Batman, Bruce is disciplined and can work for hours straight.

Dick Grayson:

Age: 23-29

Appearance: Dick Grayson mirrors a young Bruce Wayne despite their not being blood related. This could be a subconscious action by Dick to absorb traits of his father figure. His lean acrobatic body starts to set him apart from Bruce’s image. Dick manages to be well-built but still limber and flexible. His feet and hands are rough and calloused. His hair can get long but usually stays at a length in between Bruce’s and Tim’s. His eyes are bright blue without even a hint of green or brown. 

Personality: In one comic I believe it was Superman who said that Dick Grayson is a universal constant, meaning that on every alternate earth or timeline, you can always rely on him to be good and pure. I think this really sums up who Dick should be. He is kind to a fault, and can sometimes be naive and not think things through. He loves to love, be that in his family, in his romantic relationships, in his friendships, and even in strangers. He is a chronic hero who only wants to see the world as a better place. But it’s important to note that Dick can get angry when pushed, and holds grudges.

Speech: Dick is an extremely interesting study in speech patterns. As a child he traveled with the circus, until he lived with clear-spoken Bruce Wayne and a proper English butler. So influences to his speech and accent come both internationally and locally to Gotham and Bludhaven. As a child living at Wayne Manor, Dick picks up a slight Gotham tinge to his accent with some British flourish in his vowel sounds. He regularly speaks in slang. As Nightwing he is able to suppress his unique speech to sound more evenly American.

Additional Attributes: Dick acts differently around each of his family members as to be what they need in a big brother. For example, he is more fatherly to Damian while to Tim he is more an equal. Dick can fidget and has less of an attention span than Bruce. He can use jokes as a coping mechanism.

Jason Todd: 

Age: 22-26

Appearance: Hair is often long on top and shorter on the sides, sometimes with a white streak as a side effect from the Lazarus Pit. Tallest and heaviest of all the kids, very physically intimidating. Has a lot of scars and burns, and in some fan works he has a “Y” shaped scar the length of his chest from his autopsy. Never skips leg day. Green/blue eyes.

Personality: Jason goes through a lot of character development, but for this list I’m going off a timeline of post-Under the Red Hood, where Jason is on okay, yet still a little shaky, terms with the rest of the family. Jason has a hard time separating vigilante life and civilian life; his death as Robin ended his life as Jason Todd, blurring the lines between the two. Jason is legally dead, so he is basically building an identity back up. He holds some attributes from childhood: brave, impulsive, loud-mouthed, and street-smart. But his experiences post-Robin have made him a hardened loner. He lives modestly and with some semblance of order. He’s hard to foster a relationship with, but can be a passionate friend/family member when he opens up.

Speech: Jason probably has the least influence from Bruce and Alfred’s speech patterns, seeing as though he spent a lot more time with his biological family/on the streets than he did as a preteen in the manor. He is the definition of Gotham vernacular, with a rough edge. So much so that as a child, the high society gala attenders sometimes had a hard time understanding him. Often talks in curt, short sentences.

Additional Attributes: He has trouble expressing his emotions, more specifically anger and/or grief. Can both love or hate furiously. Inherently good, but sometimes does “bad” things. Protective over children, especially those living on the street. Very much a believer in “the ends justify the means.”

Tim Drake:

Age: 17-20

Appearance: Pale skin, dark hair. Sharp cheek bones and jawline, mostly from how skinny he is. His body isn’t technically “built” to be extremely athletic, but he’s forced a nice lean build from stringently working out. Easily loses and gains weight as a direct result of his work, causing fluctuations in his build. Five foot something, will eventually be out-grown by Damian. Long hair that can still be styled to look professional.

Personality: Tim Drake is very passionate in pretty much everything he sets his mind to. He feels as though he imposed himself onto Batman to become Robin, so he works twice as hard to prove his worth. He can be self conscious and deprecating. Tim as Robin or Red Robin is very different than civilian Tim; his hero personas can be bolder and more confident. Despite dropping out of high school, he values education.

Speech: Tim grew up rich, and his speech reflects an intelligence gained from private tutors. Despite this, he knows how to interact with those his age in using less formal language and slang. Often quotes books and movies. Can be awkward and stumble over his words when teased by his friends/family. He can manipulate people easily in business settings by talking fast and confidently while explaining complex topics.

Additional Attributes: Tim’s demeanor is directly tied to his varying levels of confidence and anxiety. Tim is has above-average intelligence and is diligent in detective work, but can still act like a teenager. He can be stubborn to extremes and will patiently play the long con. He does not cope well with loss.

Duke Thomas:

Age: 17-19

Appearance: Short dark hair, shaved on the sides and/or the back. Often wears the colors yellow and black. Around the same height as Tim, but a little taller. Stronger and heavier build more alike to Jason than Dick, but he’s still light on his feet. Expressive face that can give away his feelings easily. Still a bit of a baby face, but he’s still well-proportioned and conventionally handsome.

Personality: In my works, I’ve often described Duke as having a “sun-shiny” personality. He is one to not even think twice about putting others before himself. Duke uses his own personal experiences to guide him as a hero rather than suppress his emotions. Duke went from being an only child to having a large family, so he can sometimes feel overwhelmed. He is on friendly terms with every member of the batfamily, as well as many other heroes. Duke is self-sacrificial and is still learning how to effectively work as a detective.

Speech: Duke grew up in a middle class Gotham family, so his speech is influenced by his parents as well as his city environment. Duke has a mild Gotham accent and speaks a lot in modern slang. He hasn’t had much influence from Bruce and Alfred, considering he hasn’t lived with them for long. It’s possible that as he grows he will pick up some influences from Bruce and Tim’s way of speaking, but will most likely hold onto the accent of his childhood.

Additional Attributes: Duke is a metahuman vigilante in a city where Batman typically bans them, which causes a bit of an insecurity and a perfectionist drive. These are exasperated by the long line of history preceding him, as well as the fact that he involved himself in the Robin movement rather than being handpicked by Batman. He and Tim can relate in that way. Duke is an ardent student of Batman and is dedicated to the cause.

Damian Wayne:

Age: 10-14

Appearance: Looks similar to Bruce when he was the same age, yet stronger and with tanner skin. His hair is expertly cut and styled, but still age-appropriate. He is the shortest of the batkids, but still has a lot of time and potential to grow. He pretty much won the genetics lottery with Bruce and Talia as his biological parents, and is made for athletics. He has some scars that stand out with their pale coloring against his tan skin. 

Personality: Damian is slowly becoming less of a brat, to put it bluntly. He admires his family and tries to mimic them, but will never confess it. Damian is quick to judge and will voice his opinion no matter how scathing it may be, both as civilian and hero. Damian is slowly realizing he may not want the Batman mantle as quickly as he planned. Jon is a perfect foil to Damian, and often makes him a better person when they’re together. 

Speech: His speech is proper and formal. Prefers formal titles: ex. “father” over “dad” and last names over first. Damian is at least bilingual (Arabic and English), and can switch between languages easily. Most of his speech patterns developed from his tutors in the League, and more recently, Alfred. Influences like Jon and Dick have introduced him to a more modern, laid-back way of speaking, which he sometimes utilizes when relaxed.

Additional Attributes: Damian has problems with authority, especially those that he doesn’t respect like his teachers at school. He can be arrogant and childish ever though he often acts like he knows everything. Damian is still a child and has much to learn from batman and family as well as unlearn from his time at the League. Dami was forged to be a ruthless warrior, but now has to find a balance between the hero Robin and the child Damian Wayne.

Hope this helps someone! Feel free to add on if you think I missed anything. Just please remember to be civil and respect different interpretations of these characters. Let me know if you want another one of these posts outlining the girls or other characters.

[aliwritesfic]

The Night Shift part 8 (F!Reader x Frankie Morales)

Summary: It's time to do what's best for you . . . also fuck Kurt

Warnings: physical violence, emotional abuse, brief mention of trauma

W/C: 2.2k

AN: So.... I'll be honest, I was quite sick when I wrote this (and I'm still not 100% but I'm at like 75% which is good enough) but I have a mentality of not editing or revising my work otherwise I embarrass myself and convince myself I'm The Worst(tm), but I hope this makes sense and the pacing is good <3

Spotify

Part 1 Part 9

Frankie was glad to see you finally opening up. Even if that meant tears he couldn’t wipe away, or a hand he couldn’t hold. The last thing he wanted was to put you in a position where you thought the only reason he was helping was to swoop in while you were vulnerable.

You sat next to him in his truck, your eyes were puffy and red from tears that once they started seemed to come in waves of intensity, from a few sniffles to shoulders heaving, gasping for air sobs. Manny sat beside you, holding your hand, which Frankie was grateful for. He was glad to see that you had people that cared about you. When he had messaged Manny that morning, it was more to find out if his suspicions were correct about the ‘friend’ you had talked about while drunk was you.

“You don’t have-“

“We want to,” Manny interjected for the fifth time. It occurred to Frankie that you weren’t used to people wanting to help you. “I’ve been praying that you’ll let me help you.” That made you sob again. You gave another apology, chest heaving as you tried to breathe.

Truthfully, Frankie was also glad that this was an excuse for him to skip talking about his own feelings. His own mind was a muddy mess of flashbacks and night terrors and bouts of anxiety that became so crippling he forgot how to breathe. How well would that have gone down in the little group he now found himself apart of? If he had to guess, about as well as it went down with Portia – pitying looks and urges to see a proper therapist, and a new distance that neither was willing bridge.

Manny answered a call as Frankie drove back. He wasn’t driving anywhere in particular, but when it had become clear you wanted to be anywhere but that bistro, he had suggested the three of you pile into his truck and see where the road took you.

“Mateo, honey, I need to ask you a few things,” Manny said into his phone. Out of the corner of his eye, Frankie saw you lean your head back and squeeze your eyes shut. Frankie wanted to reach out and squeeze your knee, take your hand, do anything to show that he was there, that he wasn’t going anywhere so long as you wanted him around.

Manny’s voice faded into the background as you turned to look at Frankie. He pulled up at a small nature reserve, which was just an algae slicked pond and a few oak trees surrounded by recently mowed grass. Frankie noticed how bloodshot your eyes were.

“You okay?” he asked, realising it was a stupid question.

“I will be,” you said, your voice hoarse. You cleared your throat with a wince. “I’m not upset . . . I’m just overwhelmed. Like, I’ve been holding this all in for so long that once the lid was opened it was impossible to put back on, and now I’ve just gotta let it all out. Does that sound stupid?”

Frankie shook his head. “Not at all.” You smiled weakly at him.

“Bet this is the worst lunch you’ve ever had,” you said.

“Nah, I think it ranks pretty highly,” Frankie said. “Mainly because of the company, though.” You rolled your eyes and Frankie could see the corners of your mouth twitch in an effort to keep a smile away.

“It’s not your fault, you know,” he said softly.

“What isn’t?” You asked, but before he could answer, Manny interjected.

“I’ve found you a new place,” he said. You shot up, confusion written on your face plainly. Manny smiled the type of smile when someone knows they’ve basically saved the day. “That was my dear friend Mateo on the phone. He is taking his first steps towards being a real estate mogul and recently brought a one bedroom apartment to rent out. And because he is such a dear friend and owes me like, a billion favours, I told him the minimum of what your situation was, and he has told me that he’s willing to rent the place to you for lower than market value. A hundred and twenty a week, including water.”

You’re silent for a few moments, and Frankie watched you carefully.

“When can I move in?” you said finally, and Frankie felt an invisible weight lift off your shoulders. He could only imagine how difficult this would be for you; making decisions that would change how you lived in a matter of hours, basically upending your life.

“He can get the keys to us on Wednesday, he’s just got to replace some fixtures and finish painting some walls,” Manny said. You nodded slowly.

“So, I just need to last till Wednesday,” you said.

“You can stay at my place, if you want.” Frankie said quickly, not exactly comfortable with the idea of you staying with Kurt. You had said he was never physically violent, but Frankie also knew how quickly a man could change when they didn’t get their way.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose,” you said carefully. Frankie nodded.

“Of course, you’re my friend, and friends help each other.” Just friends. Only friends. He wasn’t going to take advantage of you in this state just because he had a stupid crush. He had once had a conversation with a pissed off Eve Miller, who was ranting about the guys she thought were her friends instantly making moves the moment she became single. That had solidified Frankie’s resolve to not make moves on women he was friends with – it wasn’t fair to them or to him.

Before you could answer, your phone was ringing loudly. Your face crumpled as you looked at the contact, and Frankie frowned.

Kurt.

You took a deep breath and hit answer. “Hey! What’s up?” Your light and airy tone was at odds with your sombre expression. “No, I have lunch with Manny on Sunday, remember? You’re home already? But –“

Frankie listened to the angry buzzing coming from your phone, his revulsion growing.

“My phone died – no I just went out with Sara last night, she wanted to go to fight night . . . it’s not that short . . . No I didn’t fuck anyone else, Jesus Christ, Kurt! No! Look, I’ll be home soon, we can talk about this then.” You hung up with a shaking hand, your mouth twisting with effort to contain the tears.

Manny met Frankie’s eye over the top of your bowed head and gave a small nod.

“We’ll come with you to get some of your clothes,” Frankie said. “And anything else you need.”

“You’re really too sweet for this,” you muttered with a hiccup. “I’m sorry for dragging the both of you into my shit.”

“I crawled willingly into it,” Manny said breezily, “which I would only do for about five people in this world.”

The trio remained silent for several minutes, interrupted only but the sound of your occasional hiccups. Frankie reached out and patted your shoulder awkwardly, cringing internally while he did. Inexplicably, you leant into his touch, your damp cheek brushing against the back of his hand.

“Can you drive me home so I can get my stuff?” you asked softly. Frankie nodded and turned on the truck.

~*~

You were a ball of anxiety as Frankie pulled into the complex’s parking lot. Kurt’s car was already in the spot reserved for your apartment, sending you to the verge of a full-blown panic attack. You squeezed your eyes shut and counted to ten, then backwards from ten. Distantly, you felt Manny take hold of one of your hands.

“You’ve got this.” Manny’s voice sounded far away. “Francisco and I are behind you one hundred percent.”

“You’re calling the shots,” Frankie said, touching your arm. His hand was warm and calloused, and you didn’t know why that observation seemed to be at the forefront of your mind, but it was. You opened your eyes and met Frankie’s warm brown ones, suddenly feeling infinitely stronger.

You told them what you wanted to do – for you to go in by yourself and for them to wait outside the door, plug their ears if necessary, only come in if they felt like you were in any actual danger. Frankie’s face darkened at this, but to your relief he didn’t protest your plan.

You felt stronger with the two of them behind you. Every single step towards your apartment door solidified your resolve that this was the right thing, that this relationship hadn’t made you happy, fulfilled, in years. The click of your key in the door felt like one of finality.

Kurt sat on the couch, glaring at you. You left the door open a crack as you walked in, hovering by the dining table. You took him in fully and came to the conclusion that you were no longer attracted to this man at all. His skin was reddened by the sun, pale patches around his light blue eyes. His thin mouth was curled into a sneer.

“Care to explain what the fuck you’ve been doing while I was gone?” he said.

“Not really, no.” You replied. “Here’s the thing, Kurtis, you don’t get to go out with your friends for the whole weekend doing who-knows-what then turn around and get angry at me for spending time with the only friend from school that I still have! That’s not fair.”

“And who’s fault is that? You’re the one who pushed them all away!” Kurt stood up and advanced towards you. Normally, you would have taken a step backwards, given him space, but this time you stood your ground, clenching your fists tightly to stop them shaking.

“I’m still allowed to have a social life,” you said, struggling to keep your tone even. Kurt rolled his eyes.

“If you wanna go out and act like a fucking whore-“

“Think what you want, Kurt,” you said, “it doesn’t matter anymore. I’m leaving. You can’t stop me.”

Kurt spluttered for a moment, turning a shade of deep red. “Like fucking HELL you’re leaving me, you bitch!”

“I am!” you shot back. He was only a few inches from you now, so close his breath was hot on your face. “I’m miserable, I don’t love you anymore, and I’m done. I’ve been done for so long I can’t remember a time I was fully invested in this relationship! I deserve better! I deserve love that doesn’t make me so sad it hurts, and I can’t have that with you.”

Kurt’s face twisted into an ugly contortion of the features you once found perfect. “No. Nobody can love you the way I do! Nobody can understand you like I do! If you leave, I won’t want to live anymore. Don’t you remember? I can’t live without you!”

“Then go to a fucking hospital!” you snapped, moving to get past him. Kurt grabbed your wrist tightly. His grip was like a vice, cutting off blood supply to your fingers.

“Let go!” you begged. Kurt tugged you closer, spittle forming at the corners of his mouth, your noses almost touching. He’s going to kill me. Oh my god, he’s actually going to kill me. You saw movement by the door out of the corner of your eye, and your heart swelled.

“You heard her,” Frankie said, “let her go.”

Kurt didn’t let go, but instead gripped harder. He’s completely lost it, you thought dimly, the expression Kurt wore sending true fear into your heart.

“And just who the fuck are you?” Kurt demanded.

“Let her go,” Frankie repeated. He didn’t raise his voice, but you could still hear the power it held. Kurt scoffed and spat at Frankie’s feet.

“This is an issue between me and my girlfriend, now get out of my apartment before I make you.”

Frankie didn’t reply, instead, he strode forward, pushed the sleeves of his flannel over shirt up as he did. Kurt didn’t wait. He pushed you hard against the kitchen bench, knocking the breath out of you and sending a shot of pain through your back, and moved to meet Frankie in the middle of the room.

It happened in an instant, blink and you miss it. Frankie swung, his fist connecting with Kurt’s jaw with a sickening crunch. Kurt went down like a lead balloon, howling as he collapsed on the floor. Frankie stood over him, breathing hard through his nose.

Manny ran forward to help you, holding you to him like the protective brother you had always wished for. It took you a few moments to realise you were shaking, out of fear or adrenaline you didn’t know.

“Come on,” he whispered soothingly, “we gotta get your stuff.” You nodded and let him help you up. You didn’t feel like you were connected with your body like you were watching the whole thing through a separate set of eyes. You saw Frankie standing over Kurt, arms crossed and boot pressing into Kurt’s chest.

Manny held your hand as you walked to your bedroom. You were distantly aware of the aching in your body, your back, and wrist especially. It was Manny who packed your bag for you, grabbing anything he thought you might need. The whole thing was done in less than ten minutes. Before you left you turned to face Kurt.

“I’ll be back sometime this week to get the rest of my stuff. Do not contact me.”

You felt your strength returning to you as you left with Frankie and Manny with you. For the first time in a long time, you felt like you could breathe.

Taglist: @hnt-escape @sharkbait77 @1800-fight-me @annathewitch @darnitdraco @frankiecatfish @punkerthanpascal @nakhudanyx @gracie7209 @quica-quica-quica @pintsizemama @phoenix-of-loki

[ashisstrange]

MASTERLIST

ʷᵒʳᵈˢ: ².²ᵏ

ᵖᵃⁱʳⁱⁿᵍ: ᶜʰⁱˡᵈᵉ ˣ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵗᵃᵍˢ: ʰᵘʳᵗ/ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗ, ˢˡⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵃⁿᵍˢᵗ, ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ ⁱⁿˢᵉʳᵗ, ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏ ᵃˡʳᵉᵃᵈʸ

✥﹤┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈﹥✥

Its late in the night, far too late for your liking. The moon is glistening in the sky with it's stars, providing a small sheen of light in your dark room, passing through the curtains. It's not unusual for Tartaglia to get home late considering his occupation, but you never got used to the worry pooling in ur gut each hour that passes without him by your side.

What if he's gotten incredibly hurt and you're not there to help? What if one day he doesn't return home? Nontheless you always prepare extra dinner and make the bed, even on nights he doesn't return. You never had the idea of coming home to loving arms and warm dinner as a kid, so it felt as if it's your duty to make sure Tartaglia never suffers that feeling.

The feeling of a stab in the chest as you enter the dark house, eerily silent. You'd always pad your way to the kitchen silently and snag a sandwich before going to bed in your room. Your living situation had never been inherently bad, but the people you lived with, the people any other person would've called their parents, seemed to make everything unbearable.

That is why when you turned 18 you moved out to Liyue harbor, and your close friend Zhongli was there every step of the way. You had run into him once during a trip at the age of 16, and you had kept contact through letters ever since.

The man, at the time, told you he was 23, but he never really seemed to age. You brushed it off, probably overthinking it. That is the same person that introduced you to Childe, it was quite a sudden occurence, but you'll be forever grateful.

You needed a place to stay and your friend told you that his friend wouldnt mind a roommate, and that he was rarely found home anyways. You took up the offer, not knowing that your roommate would be one of the fatui harbingers.

You were off to a rocky start, the man refusing to talk to you the very few times he was at the appartment. Later though, he seemed to warm up to you, ever so slowly.

You don't remember how your relationship ever came to be, it's not like you've ever explicitly put a label to it. There was just a moment where you felt as if everything changed. What you had wasn't just merely a romantic relationship, it was more than that. To provide each other comfort and love like no one else had ever done before. Unconditional love that didnt seem to falter, even during the moments where you parted ways.

You smile to yourself, remeniscing the days you barely talked, and the days you spent helping him when he was wounded. There was one particular night he just crashed into your bed in the middle of the night, even though he usually only used the couch.

He had clung to you as if you were his only lifeline, sleeping soundlessly as you laid in shock. The shock died down after a few seconds though, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. Not long after you fell asleep too, and since that night Tartaglia had never slept on the couch ever again.

You check th clock. 4:37 Am, way too late to be up, but it's not like you'd sleep regardless. You'd probably get an ear full from Zhongli during your scheduled lunch the next day, but that, folks, is something for future you to deal with.

Suddenly you heard the turning of keys in a lock, and a door opening and slamming shut. That can only be one person. Then you heard a crash coming from the living room, making you shoot up. You slipped on your slippers as you quickly shuffled your way across the room and out into the living room.

You flicked on the light and were met by Tartaglia, slumped against the back of the couch. His bow was discarded to the side and he was breathing heavily. Sluggishly, his eyes opened to meet yours, his gaze seemed distant, almost empty.

You snapped out of your trance, rushing to pull his arm over your shoulder. You managed to drag him across the living room, over to the bathroom, settling him down on the closed lid of the toilet. You held up your hands, as if to say 'wait here'. You didn't dare break the silence that hung over you, scared that you'd set him off or something.

He didn't seem to protest, so you left to go get the med kit from the kitchen, and a clean rag to clean off the blood splattered across his skin. Was it his? That was a question that, regardless if you could guess the answer, would be left unanswered. As always.

He met your eyes when you returned, seeking for some contact. He knew how much you hated blood. The stickyness, the sickening smell and the thought of what must have happened that involved getting covered in blood. You always helped him regardless, and he thanked you dearly for that. After a long day he simply could not do it himself.

It makes him feel helpless, but you're always right by his side to make him feel better. You wet the rag, cleaning off his calloused hands. His face too had some traces of blood, but those were easily wiped away as well.

After some emergency stitches and a bandage around his bicep you motioned for him to stand up, letting him know that the treatment was done. He was still quite weak, but not as much as before.

"Thanks," he croaked, the first words you shared in 2 days. His voice sounded devoid of any confidence. He seemed very fragile, but you didn't comment it.

"No worries," You send him a reassuring smile, helping him get up and over to the bedroom. You see him visibly relax once he's in bed, snuggling into the sheets. He immediately rolls over towards you when he feels the matress dip, wrapping his arms around your waist.

His face is buried in between your shoulder blades, and it's nearly impossible for you to turn over and look at him. He only does that when he's in a bad mood, and you stop putting in effort to try and face him.

"Bad day?" He hums, the vibrations thrumming against your back. He seems tense, but you're careful not to trigger him too much. The last thing you want is to stress him out even more, knowing he has a lot on his plate already.

After a while, when you've started nodding away assuming he fell asleep you suddenly feel movement behind you. You open your eyes as you hear a small sniffle. It's almost as if you could hear your hart shatter from beneath your ribs. He probably thought you were asleep too.

His arms had relaxed, allowing you to turn around easily. His ocean blue eyes met yours, big with surprise, even though they seemed almost grey-ish in the faint moonlight. All you could do is smile at him as you opened his arms, for him to rely on you.

And that's exactly what he did. qHe fell into your chest, sniffling and crying freely as you drew patterns on his back, your other hand running through his hair. You could almost feel his clogged nose by the way he was having trouble breathing. After a bit his sobbing eased down to mere sniffles as you handed him a handkerchief to blow out his nose.

He used to have a lot of trouble with that, relying on people. Upon meeting him he imediately sparked you as the type of person that didnt bother anyone with his personal feelings, bottling them up for only him to experience. You could see how it physically and mentally ate away at him

That's why one day you faced him, and opened your arms. He had quirked up a brow, confused at what you were insinuating. "Rely on me." You said, and he chuckled, assuming it was a joke.

When you didn't move he realised you weren't kidding. Eventually you wrapped your arms around him, the man tense in your grip. "You don't seem to want to bug anyone else with your problems, so you can rely on me instead,"

You had no idea ho much those words had meant to him, they stuck by him like gum under a shoe. It felt good, he admitted, to have someone to rely on.

"I'm so sorry," He croaks, and he sounds nearly as small as he did in the bathroom half an hour ago, his eyes red with tears. Seeing him like that made your chest clench in pain, knowing the pain the world has caused him.

"There's nothing for you to apologise for," he seems to be taken aback by your comment, maybe even... offended?

"N-no way, i'm clearly a burden to you and a waste of yo-" you shut him up by pressing a kiss to his lips, making his eyes widen.

"You have nothing to apologize for because i am here for you, willingly. I promised to help you with whatever you're going through didn't i," He nods in defeat, leaning back into you. The way he cuddles up to you almost seems domestic, forgetting the fact that he kills people for a living.

"You need to take a break sweetie, otherwise you'll just keep eating yourself up," You stroke a lock of hair out of his face that nearly seemed glued by the stickyness of his tears. He furrows his brows, creating deep creases in between them.

"You know i can't, there's way too much for me to do," He looks up at you, as if he's offended you brought it up in the first place. You press your thumb in between his brows, easing up the crease and stopping him from furrowing.

"We both know it isn't a crime to take a week off, considering you've never used your days off," He tries to butt in, but you shush him before he can start. "And before you start about 'your duties', there's enough harbingers at the fatui, it's not like they can't send Scaramouche to deal with your business for a bit,"

He frowns again, but you resume in stroking his hair. "Besides, if they don't allow you to take off, which i highly doubt, they'll have me to deal with," You smirk. His eyes crinkle up as he musters a small smile. You're not the most intimidating person on the planet, but it's the sentiment that matters.

"What would i even do in that week though," he huffs, fiddling with the back of your shirt as he seems deep in thought.

"Well i had just the idea," you chuckle as he looks at you in disbelief. His eyes are still a bleary red, but you can tell he's a lot less tense than earlier. "And that is..." He continues, his tone ever so curious.

"Say, how long has it been since you've been back home," he visibly tenses up, not meeting your eyes. You know its a sensetive topic, but it'd really do him good to go back home to see his family.

"I dont know, nearly two years," his voice is merely above a whisper, bless the fact that the room is so silent you'd be able to hear a pin drop. You adjust your position so that he's laying against you more comfortably, going back to stroking through his hair.

"Well i thought we could book it to shnezhynaiya for a week or two, spend some time with your family," He lays still against you, as if he'd break if he moved. "After all, they've only heard about me through letters," you chuckle.

You hold him a little tighter, leaning into the warmth. "Wouldn't you like that?" You say in his ear, just above a whisper. That seems to break him, the realisation dawning on him that he'd get to see his family again.  Tears run down his face once again, only this time they're not caused by distress. He nods as he buries his face back into your shoulder.

You stroke his back as you continue talking about your trip, soothing him. Later, when he's stopped crying, he talks along. He tells you about his parents, about how his mother used to be there for him through everything. About how he used to go ice fishing with his father in the winters, and proudly mention he caught a very big fish once.

He also tells you about his siblings, about how he cares for every single one of them very dearly. He also tells you about the spots he wants to visit with you he used to hang out at.

He tells you all about it, and for the first time in a while you see him smile. Really, genuinely smile. The kind of smile where his eyes crinkle up and he bares his teeth. It's an incredibly endearing sight, and u make a mental note to never forget it.

Suddenly he yawns. "You must be exhausted," you chuckle as you both adjust your positions, ready to fall asleep. He only hums as he keeps his eyes shut, pulling up his blanket. His breathing evens out as he falls asleep.

You smile as you look at his resting face, snuggling closer to him as you think; god, how did i get this lucky

[whitexwingedxdoves]

seven wonders        [request]

Pairing: Young Daryl Dixon x Young Reader Song: Indigo Night – Tamino | Requested by @sweatywildpanda​ Warnings: Language, FLUFF Summary: You had never met someone quite like Daryl Dixon before, his outlook on life seemed bleak and you made it your job to show him not everything in life is as sad as he made it out to be. A/N: THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST but also thank you for making me obsessed with a new song! I hope you all like it! – Requests are open!

You had been watching your friend throw herself on her new boyfriend Steven all night, every time she did you seemed to tip back the bottle of vodka that you coddled for most of the night so far. You were promised a party and so far you got a fire in a trailer park with about 5 guys, all far to obsessed with themselves to hold a conversation of any sort of meaning but it was almost like the god’s had heard your desperate plea as just as you gave up any hopes of a good evening, two men showed up... one was a little older than you but the other seemed around your ages and immediately caught your eye.

You ignored the interaction between Steven and the older boy and kept your eye firmly on the other, other than the obvious good lucks, he intrigued you, the way his slightly shaggy hair seemed to go unwashed, the way he held his shoulders as if the world laid on them heavily, slightly broody in the face as he watched in the interaction between the man he arrived with and your best friends boyfriend. His eyes scanned the rest of the circle before landing on you, taken back by the fact you were already looking at him, you offered him a warm smile not sure if it was the flicker of the fire or if the boy had a slight red glow to them as a result of your gesture. He looked away quickly but you couldn’t keep your eyes off him as you watched him walk away from the circle and plant himself under an old tree, fiddling with his fingers.

After yet another drink of the vodka, you pushed yourself from the chair and headed in his direction, thinking about the way your friends told you how annoyingly open you were when it came to meeting new people, joking how one day you’ll stumble upon your death because of how outgoing you had become. The thought made you laugh a little as you approached the mysterious man, his eyes slowly scanning your body before he met your smile once more. “This seat taken?” you joked, pointing to the spot beside him. He offered nothing but a shake of his head and you took that as your cue to sit down. “Im Y/N by the way” shifting into a more comfortable position, you offered your hand to the boy, hoping to put a name to his face.

“Daryl” he grunted, ignoring your hand. Your heart seemed to flutter at the bass of his voice, taken back by how masculine he sounded, fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

“Nice to meet you, Daryl” you spoke softly before leaning against the tree, letting out a small sigh. “What brings you here?” you could tell your presence threw him off guard, possibly annoying him with how you just wouldn’t let the silence settle.

“M’ brother” he answered, a little defeated pointing in the direction of the man he came here with. You glanced over at him and watched how he held himself with cocky arrogance, your eyes rolling as he dramatically threw his hands in the air, telling some bullshit story to make the boys that gathered there laugh. “You?” you allowed a small smile pass your lips as he attempted to seem interested in your story, like you were his.

“I’m third wheeling!” you joked, pointing in the direction of your friend who remained on Steven’s lap, you could have sworn you heard the man scoff in amusement but you weren’t entirely sure. “She has Steven, I have cheap vodka!” you joke further but heard nothing from the man as he allowed his head to drop back to the hem of his shirt.

It stayed quiet for a moment as you drank back some more of the alcohol, almost emptying your bottle but the quiet was too awkward for you, you shifted slightly to face Daryl a little more, his gaze not leaving the button he started to pull at on his flannel. “You ever heard of the seven wonders?” you asked him with far too much enthusiasm, recalling back to a conversation you had with your mother about the subject, the one that made you utterly obsessed with the idea of seeing them all. You caught his confused gaze as he ever so slightly lifted his head in your direction, his eyes not leaving that stupid button. “Really? They’re like the most beautiful sights in the world” you gushed, your hands telling a story “ The great wall of China, the great pyramid of Giza?” A sigh leaving your lips at his silence, you shook your head ignoring his look “That’s what I wanna do, I wanna get out of here and travel, see the Seven wonders of the world!” your voice fell soft thinking about your dream, your eyes darting from star to star as you imagined yourself standing in front of the obnoxiously large Jesus statue in Brazil.

“Travellin’ aint all that” he muttered under his breath but it was loud enough to catch your attention.

“You travel a lot?” you questioned tilting your head slightly to capture more of his expression. Daryl just hummed in your direction, slowly nodding his head. “Must have seen a lot of beautiful places” you added, your interest fully peaking knowing he had seen much more of the world than you had.

“Ye’ don’t mean nothin’ though. Not when the world is full of shit!” he spat back at you, confirming his annoyance. You were taken back a little by his words, shaking your head disagreeing with him.

“You’ve got it all wrong!” his eyes met yours when you spoke, ready to bite back at you as to why he was in fact right but you cut him off “The world isn’t shit, it's the people in it.” The words fell out of your mouth almost too easily, like you had experienced your words first hand without seeing what the world had to offer you. He thought about how naïve to the real world you seemed but he couldn’t bring himself to break your perfect vision of the world, he figured you would figure that out on your own one day.

“So wha’ makes em wonders?” redirecting the conversation to avoid breaking your heart, his eyes finally allowing him to get a good look at you, you seemed to sway with the wind the strands of hair that fell from the poorly executed bun danced with you. He took note of the way your legs seemed to be scuffed with the dirt you sat on, thinking how dirty your dress might look once you stand up. He found it odd that you paired such a delicate dress with such stocky boots yet he liked it, it confused him for a moment, never really caring for fashion but he liked the way it looked on you. Finally he noticed the way your eyes seemed to drink up the light of the moon as you stared aimlessly into the sky, being careful not to be caught under your gaze. You laughed a little at his question, like he had fallen right into your trap. There was nothing more you loved to talk about.

“Well, they’re old right, so how people managed to build such magnificent statues back then is insane, like impossible insane! We now, would need machines and technology that just seemed like black magic back then!'' Anyone could hear the passion in your tone as you bragged about these ancient monuments, it almost made Daryl forget about the bad he had seen in the world and allowed himself to see the world through your eyes.

You watched the light in Daryl’s eyes flicker out as he came back to his dull reality, it made your heart sink a little before an idea sprung into your mind, like it was your mission to change this man’s outlook on life. You reached out for his hand and though he flinched when you touched him, he didn’t pull away instead he allowed you to guide him to his feet and drag him away and towards a small hill that surrounded the trailer park. As you walked, you couldn’t help but notice how rough his hands were. You thought he was far too young to have such calloused hands; no man in their early 20’s should have such aged hands. You didn’t let it distract you too much as you continued to tug on his arm to make him walk a little faster as you walked up the hill, finally you let go of his hands once you reached the top, a satisfied sigh signalling the end of your journey. You sat down on a patch of grass and patted the patch next to you, signalling Daryl to sit beside you. He just sighed at your demand but obeyed his orders and slummed himself down next to you, leaning back on his hands with his legs stretched out.

His eyes followed yours, settling on the view that the hill provided, a body of water seemingly flowing perfectly still and the light of the moon reflected right on its base as the grass and water weeds surrounding it played with the wind. “If the world was so shit, we wouldn’t have this” you whispered, not really caring if Daryl heard you or not, only saying it for your own peace of mind. He remained silent as he took in every detail of the scene, his bleak view on the world gaining some colour the more he watched. He broke his concentration to take in your expression, wondering if it matched his, it didn't it looked so much more peaceful, like you had found where you belong in the world, like everything ever made sense. Daryl looked over his shoulder the sight of you seemed to be overwhelming, it was only then that he acknowledged the fact you had chosen to sit with him and not partake in the group ‘fun.

“why ya wastin’ ya time wi me? Any one of those guys would break their back just to hear ya talkin bout this shit” you scoffed at his question, your eyes fallen onto him now with an amused smirk creasing your lips.

“The world is full of pricks like them. It’s not every day you get to meet guy’s like you.” It was like his heart had skipped valuable beats when you spoke, swallowing a lump that formed in his throat.

“Na’ I ain’t worth ya time!” His words were shaky as he tried to leave your gaze but you never let him, your hand resting on his leg as you did.

“No, you're worth more” you whispered before your eyes wandered back to the view you sat before.

He wasn’t sure how he let a complete stranger come into his life and completely flip the way he saw the world but he was glad he did. He sat up a little, now crossing his legs hoping not to disturb the way you hand laid on his thigh teasing himself with the thought of placing his hand over yours and eventually he bit the bullet and did just that, his eyes now following the ripples of the water finding it fitting as he felt ripples of warmth flowing through his blood stream as he held onto your hand.

He sure as hell liked seeing the world through your eyes.

[suchalonelysunflower]

All My Midnights With You (c.h)

Pairing: Calum Hood X doctor! Reader

Summary: How many midnights can you spend with a stranger? Or Four times you see Calum at a New Year’s Party and one time he didn’t.

Warnings: Fluff with a little bit of angst. Implied sexual relations. Mentions of surgery, hospital rooms and vomit. Mentions of alcohol. Language. Some grammatical mistakes (English is not my first language, I’m sorry)

Word count: 6.9 k

Author’s Note: So, i had to make a NYE fic with Cal after all the angst i threw the past few weeks, and I’ve been working on it for weeks now and I’m finally satisfied with it! Please remember that Reblogs, comments and feedback are more than welcome and encouraged! I really love to hear from you guys ❤️ Hope you like it and Happy reading 🦋💕🌻

Also Ps: I made the reader a doctor cause I was watching way more episodes than I should of Greys anatomy and I figured it made sense in the plot

My materialist // wanna be part of my tag list?

Picture taken from Pinterest

One.

The party was loud. It’s not like you mind at all, you knew parties should be like that, it’s just that you’re not used to them anymore. But now, your residency was over and you could enjoy a little break from the neon white lights. You knew no one there besides your best friend, who quickly disappeared from your side to grab yourselves something to drink, leaving you alone amid people with funky hats and numbered glasses.

You didn’t mind, you knew their job as a radio host required them to be more social and if your hospital life taught you something is to know how to navigate through different environments with confidence, you were fine with watching people run around for fun for a change, drinks in their hands and hope in their eyes for the New Year.

You were standing at a corner of the room with your eyes wandering around the room, trying to find your friend amongst the sea of people. That was the first time you saw him.

Tall, with a black button-up shirt with rolled-up sleeves that displayed tattooed arms with various designs you couldn't figure out at a distance, head filled with black curls that were positioned in the most perfect way to make it seem like he didn’t put an effort on it at all, which you knew it must be a lie. His profile was immaculate, you thought since at a distance he looked like he could be sculpted from marble, especially when he smiled and his cheeks took over most of his face. His style wasn’t bad either, although you wouldn't go with a completely black outfit, you must admit that it suited him. At this point, you know you’ve been staring for quite some time, definitely more than it was allowed before it became creepy, but you couldn’t help it. He was beautiful in every single way.

Your friend came back a few minutes later, a drink in each hand to share with you. You thanked them as you quickly pulled your eyes from the stranger, starting a new conversation almost right away, hoping that the blush on your cheeks could disappear.

What you missed, though, was that handsome stranger looking back at you for a moment.

He didn’t notice your previous stare, but you can say that he was curious about the new face that just showed up at his friend’s party. Although he didn't linger on too much as he was quickly swayed away by his friends in different conversations, his eyes met yours from time to time and he could almost swear he saw you blush every time they did.

The party went by without a hitch. It was closer to midnight when the host, a tall man with curly dirty blond hair and the deepest dimples you’ve ever seen, stood in the middle of the room to announce the countdown.

People started to gather around the living room, making their way into the front and looking for someone to share the first kiss of the year, pushing you away from your friend while doing so. In a matter of seconds, you got lost in the sea of people again, you tried to push your way up to your friend again but it was almost useless. With a little huff, you turned around and knocked someone’s drink over.

“Oh my god,” You said, hiding your face in complete embarrassment “I am so sorry! I didn’t look where I was going, I-”

The man chuckled “It’s okay, sweetheart. It was a shit drink anyway”

You looked up and the sight in front of your eyes almost knocked you over. It was the same guy you were crushing on the whole night.

It was almost pathetic the way you seemed to lose all kinds of speech as you looked into his eyes. If you thought he was beautiful before, then you are sure he is breathtaking standing up close.

His brown eyes had such intensity it was impossible to look away, it was almost as he had locked you down with just a stare, and that’s without mentioning his smile. You couldn’t have noticed before, but his smile made his whole face shine, blinding you as you tried to find any kind of compliment that would fit him perfectly. How could someone have the perfect smile?

He chuckled again and you noticed that you were staring waaaay too long for it to be normal. You looked away and started fidgeting with your hands, how come you can perform surgeries and talk to other doctors and patients normally but you are at a loss of words when it comes to a cute guy?!

You were about to say something, anything to make the awkwardness of it all fade away. But the voices coming from the living room interrupted your train of thoughts again. You both looked at the crowd of people gathered a few meters away, they were all staring at the countdown on the TV as they cheered for the New Year to come.

“10, 9, 8,” They sang “5, 4, 3, 2, 1…”

And as the cheer of “Happy New Year” came, you felt two calloused hands cup your cheek and pull your face in another direction.

It was almost instantly when you felt the soft lips of that stranger on yours. The initial shock made you pull back a little before kissing him back. It was soft, sweet, and innocent, yet neither of you wanted to pull away first.

You brought your hands to the back of his neck and pulled him closer to you and his hands flew to hold your waist, still in awe of how perfectly your lips melted against his, almost like they were made for each other from the start.

But everything has an end and you both need to breathe. And, when you looked into his eyes again you knew he felt it too. There was something you couldn’t deny, call it chemistry or spark or fate, but that kiss felt like nothing you’ve ever felt before.

“Woah…” He whispered after pulling away, hands still on your waist as he tried to find an explanation for what just happened “I-”

“Calum!” Someone yelled, making both your heads snap towards an even taller guy with curly hair, seriously, where do you get these people?!

The stranger - whose name was Calum, apparently - let go of your waist as his drunk friend came over “Luke!” He said with a smile, but his eyes told another story. Was he annoyed at his friend for interrupting what was happening?

But Luke didn’t notice that, he just came over and rounded his arms around Calum’s shoulders, wishing him a happy new year and slowly walking him towards the crowd of people who were waiting for him.

You stood there shocked, not knowing what to do or what just happened. But you did notice the way he looked at you, an apology plastered into his face as he was dragged into the sea of people where you lost him once again for the rest of the night.

Two.

Another year, another party.

This time though, your friend didn’t need you to drag you out of the house like they always did because you happily agreed to attend. You told yourself it was because you needed a break from the emergency room, but if you were completely honest, it was because of the hope of seeing him again.

You haven’t seen or heard about Calum since that night at the beginning of the year. Of course, you knew you wouldn’t, you never exchanged numbers nor introduced yourselves properly and your friend told you that they didn’t know him well enough to try to hook you up and that might seem unprofessional on their part, which was right. You told yourself that it was fine and probably for the best since you started getting busier with your job, so you moved on.

Yet, that kiss still lingers on the back of your head. Yes, you went on dates and kissed other people too, but that kiss was something else and you knew he knew it too.

Subconsciously you hoped for him to remember you, to think about that kiss as often as you did. You knew it was a long shot, an almost impossible dream that could only come true in movies or cliche storybooks. After all, you were one of many people he knew and he didn’t even talk to you for more than 3 minutes! One of which you spent in awkward silence and the other you spent kissing.

And even then, your heart dared to hope.

You arrived somewhat early since your friend told you they might be a little bit late so you could ahead and meet them there. And, luckily for you, you didn’t have to go that far into the party to find a familiar face. It just so happens that this familiar face was the same face that overtook your dreams for the past year.

He looked different this time, his hair was much shorter but still held onto the curls that distinguished him from the others. He was not wearing black this time as he chose a simple outfit of jeans and a button-up white shirt with the first few buttons open enough to expose his chest and a feather tattoo that you haven’t noticed before. He was laughing along to what his friend said, sipping on his beer every few moments. You didn’t think he noticed you, but your heart skipped a beat when he looked your way and smiled.

You thought about going in and say hi, maybe even introducing yourself in the hopes that he would remember you, but you needed some liquid courage before even attempting to speak again. So instead of walking towards him, you found yourself making a B-line to the kitchen.

The kitchen wasn’t as crowded as you thought it would be, a few people here and there but they were minding their own business, something you were thankful for because you didn’t know what had come over you. You cursed under your breath, you just made a fool out of yourself! He might think you are a stalker or-

“Didn’t think of saying hello?” A voice called next to you.

You stopped the thoughts running in your head as you looked to the side, almost spilling your drink when you found the eyes you were dreaming of for over a year staring back at you.

He was smiling, a hint of tease shined on his eyes as he laid against the counter. He was still just as handsome but, weirdly enough, it wasn’t as intimidating as before. You could almost say you felt somewhat safe around him, comfortable even.

You smiled at him just the same, your sudden fear of talking to him quickly faded away. You already shared a kiss, how bad of a conversation could it be?

“Why would I say hello when we didn’t even say goodbye?” You teased, making him laugh.

If you thought his smile was beautiful, nothing prepared you for his laugh.

“Touché,” He said, extending his hand towards you “I’m Calum, by the way. Calum Hood”

You shook his hand as well “Nice to meet you, Calum. I’m Y/N”

“Pretty name for a little pretty thing like you” You laughed “I can’t believe it took us a year to finally meet. Are you an Angel or something? So you only show up when needed?”

“Are you always this charming or am I just lucky?” And that was the start of the evening.

You talked the whole night. You found out that he is the bassist of a rather famous band, he teased you about never hearing of them before and you told him that your job didn’t give you enough time to listen to music that wasn't in an elevator. When you told him that you were a doctor, he completely changed the conversation towards you, asking you questions and really getting into it as you explained to him the weirdest things you saw in the ER.

The more and more you talked you knew he was special. He made you laugh and was interested in what you had to say. He answered all your questions and talked about his family and how much he misses them around this time and it surprised you how intelligent and connected he was with his emotions. The deeper you went into the conversation, the more hooked you got.

“I’m sorry I left last year,” He said after a while. You were both standing outside in the garden as the commotion of the party became too much for both of you. So you just talked while staring at the big dark sky above you.

“Don’t be” You reassured him “We didn’t know each other and I’m surprised you remembered me at all” You laughed, but Calum didn’t follow.

“I don’t think I could forget you,” He said in a serious tone, making you turn to look at him to see if he was joking. By his face, you could tell he wasn't “I asked Ashton about you like a bunch of times, but I don’t think he even knew you were here… he’s a great host, don’t get me wrong, he just sucks on making the guest lists small enough to remember all the plus ones” He chuckled.

“You asked about me?”

“I had to know who my midnight kisser was,” He shrugged. “Almost thought I was drunk dreaming or something until I saw you enter the house tonight. I was so glad you remembered me and you didn’t think I was just a creep in the kitchen”

You both laughed this time “Well, lucky for you, I couldn't forget you either, even if I tried”

Calum chuckled as he stepped closer to you, his nose almost touching yours. One step closer and you would be in the same position you were a year before, only this time you were both sure you wanted this.

“And what about tonight?” Calum asked as one of his hands rounded your waist, making your breath hitch “Would you forget about tonight?”

You looked into his eyes, but he had his gaze fixed on your lips, waiting for just one word from you to feel them pressed against his again. You felt your soul leave your body as you realized how much you wanted this.

“I-I guess we’ll have to wait until midnight to find that out” You whispered, and, just as you said that, a thousand lights illuminated the night sky in the far distance.

You pulled away when you heard the first firework, staring in awe while Calum took his phone out of his pocket and started giggling. He showed you the time and it was in fact midnight of the New Year. You couldn’t believe your eyes.

“You timed that shit, didn’t you?” You laughed, but your voice soon drowned out as he cupped your cheek like he did last year and pulled you closer to him.

“If I told you I didn't, would you still want to kiss me?” He asked. You answered him by crashing your lips into his.

The fireworks went off in the sky and around your head, that’s the effect Calum had on you. The kiss was much different from last year’s, this one was more passionate, more mature as you both knew what you were doing. It had a different meaning now that you started to get to know one another, and you hoped you would continue to do so once the kiss was over and midnight came to pass.

You were glad to know that the spark was still there, this time even brighter than ever as he deepened the kiss a few moments later. You knew it was way too soon to think about love, but when you thought about kissing Calum, you hoped it could go on forever and ever.

This time, he pulled away first “You feel it too, right?” He asked in a breath as he held you closer.

You wanted to say yes, to scream it even. You knew about “the kiss” every single romantic movie talks about, the one everyone dreams to have at least once, and you knew this was it. Yet, all you could do was nod.

He brought your face close to him again, ready to seal your lips together one more time… you could guess what happened next.

“For fuck’s sake” Calum murmured as he heard the backdoor opening and his name being called out by one of his bandmates, Michael, you guessed since he was the only one you didn’t know already.

You could tell he was about to cuss Michael for his interruption, but you were quicker.

“Hey, it’s okay” You reassured him “You have people to see and I need to make myself a drink anyways”

Calum smiled at you, thanking you for understanding but still wishing he could stay with you a little longer, all night if it was necessary. He was about to say something when Michael called his name again. This time, Calum flipped him off.

“I’ll find you later, okay?” He said, pressing a small kiss to your lips before disappearing into the house again.

You followed him after a while and went directly into the kitchen to make yourself another drink. The smile you wore grew bigger every time you thought about the kiss and how it was almost ten times better than the first one.

Your mind started wandering towards a future where you could kiss Calum every time you wanted, where you could share evenings and go on dates and travel the world… You found yourself not minding that at all.

But before your fantasies could go any further, your friend came running towards you “There you are!” They said, “I’ve been looking everywhere for you! We need to go”

“W-what, why?!”

“The host is gone and they are kicking everyone out” They said with a shrug “His band also took off”

Calum left? Without saying goodbye again? “Where did they go?”

“From what I heard, their management asked them to go and perform some songs in a party downtown, apparently one of the bands who were going to perform originally couldn’t make it and they were called in replacement”

Okay, you couldn't get mad at that, it was his job after all and it was an emergency he couldn’t help. Still, the disappointment of not being able to see each other again tonight stung like a bee.

As you were waiting for the Uber outside of Ashton’s house, your friend asked “Hey, found your mystery kisser?” They liked to refer to Calum like that, even though they knew who he was.

You smiled “Yeah…”

“Got his number this time, right?”

Oh shit.

Three.

You were late. You were soooo late and you hated that.

Well, it’s not exactly your fault, the patient in room 304 started vomiting all around and it wasn’t his fault either that he needed to go into surgery right after (successfully if I may add) At least your job gives you good excuses.

You just hoped it wasn’t too late and that Calum would still be there.

Another year has passed and you haven’t seen each other at all since that last night in January. You knew that he was touring all year round with his band, at least you knew he was happy doing what he loved. You also tried to contact him through social media, the only problem was that you weren’t the only one and your message probably got lost between the thousands and thousands he got every day. So you spent yet another year thinking of him and dreaming about the kiss that you two shared.

This night, if everything goes right, you would change that. You wouldn’t disappear without at least giving him your number, if he still wanted it, of course. And you wouldn’t disappear without telling him how you feel.

Decidedly, you open the doors to Ashton’s house, and, just as fate’s decided, the first face you see is him.

Calum spotted you immediately, almost like he was waiting for you, and his face softened the instant he realized you were finally there. He wasted no time in walking towards the door and grabbing your hand to pull you upstairs. You didn’t even have the chance to say anything as he opened one of the doors and pulled you inside, locking it and pushing you against the door, pressing his lips on yours.

And there it was again: fireworks.

You placed your hands over his chest as you got lost inside your kiss, it felt just as good as you remembered, better even. You wondered if every time you kissed was going to be like that: utterly magical.

“It’s not midnight yet” You laughed when you pulled away to breathe. Calum chuckled.

“I don’t care,” He said with a raspy, needy voice, pressing kisses along your forehead, your nose, your cheek, your lips “I can’t wait until midnight and deal with the fear of having to leave again”

“Well, aren’t you quite the Cinderella?” You teased, making you both laugh “Are-are we really in a closet right now?” You said, taking in your surroundings in the dimmed light.

“I-.. yes” You burst out laughing again “I wanted some privacy and I thought this was the guest room!”

You silenced him with another kiss, this time sweeter than the previous one “Well, I think is cute”

Calum sighed “I’m tired of both of us not making it after midnight, I don’t think I want another year without seeing you again,” He said, stroking your face with the back of his hand.

“So, what’s the plan?”

He smiled “First, we get out of here” You grabbed his hand and nodded.

You let Calum lead the way, not just to get out of the closet, but also to get out of the house and the party completely. He took you to his car and told you to hop in.

“You are not going to murder me, aren’t you? I have house plants to take care of” He laughed.

“No, that’s the plan for Valentine’s Day” Calum teased and your heart fluttered at the thought of spending Valentine's day with him. Has he really thought about you that way as well?

He jumped in the car and started driving you around the city and through the coast as you talked about everything and anything at the same time. You catch up on your lives as you ate some MacDonalds’ you picked up on your way and you sang your lungs out to the tunes that came out on the radio to celebrate yet another year gone.

You swore you couldn’t be happier and you smiled knowing Calum felt the same.

“..And that’s why I was late today” You laugh.

“I would’ve waited for you the whole night through. But I will admit I thought you’ve given up on me” Calum said, holding your hand while turning around a street you were unfamiliar with “I wouldn't blame you if you did. But I really wanted to see you tonight”

You tugged on his hand “I told you I wouldn’t forget about you even if I tried” He smiled at that.

A few minutes later he parked his car in front of a house “It’s almost midnight” He said, unbuckling his seatbelt “And I thought that maybe this time we can spend it where no one would interrupt” You could tell that he was a bit embarrassed, but the thought of it was really sweet and you would be lying if you said you didn’t want this too.

“So this is your home,” You said as a matter of factly. Calum nodded “Then lead the way, Cal”

Once inside, he poured you a glass of wine and you sat in the living room and kept talking till midnight came around. When the clock struck 12, you were already lost in Calum’s eyes. There was something hypnotic about them that you can’t quite figure out, but also don’t want to. It was a beautiful mystery and you rather that it stayed that way.

“You won’t disappear after midnight?” You asked, face inches away from him.

“I don’t plan on going anywhere, baby,” He said as he closed the gap between the two of you.

This time there was no rush, no firework spectacle in the sky nor noisy friends who could ruin the moment you both had been waiting for an entire year. The kiss held the same passion as the ones that came before, yet you could sense in the way he moved that there was something more in this kiss, a need that only the two of you could satisfy.

“Why does every time I kiss you feel like the first time?” He asked, hands circling your waist and pulling you over his lap in a quick movement as his mouth traveled along your jaw and down your neck “Do you still remember that first time?”

You smiled, hands tangling in his curls as he left a trail of open kisses from your ear to your collarbone “I remember” You said as a breathy moan leaves your lips “I had a huge crush on you since the first time that I saw you” You confess.

Calum hums “Good thing then,” He hovered his lips over yours, gripping your hips as you started moving against him “Cause I had a crush on you since I saw you looking at me across the room”

You brought your hand to cup his cheek and kissed him as your life depended on it. This was nothing like that first kiss you shared, this was needy, dirty, sloppy… The innocence of it all crumbled away as you started to grind on him even harder than before and moaning into his ear.

Calum held your hips as he felt you press against his growing, groaning as you picked up the pace “Is this okay?” He asked, looking into your eyes for reassurance “We can stop if you want, I-”

“Calum,” You said, stopping your movements altogether, “I want this. I want you”

Next thing you know, he was kissing you again, lifting you, and carrying you to his room.

*

You don’t know what time it is when your phone starts ringing. You just know it’s either very late or super early. You untangled yourself from Calum who had his arm around your waist as he pulled you closer while you slept. The curly-haired man mumbled something unintelligible before turning around and going back to bed. You smiled at the sight, if you weren’t in love before then you sure are now.

The phone kept ringing, so you put on a pair of sweatpants and a shirt you assumed belonged to Calum and went downstairs where you left your phone.

“Hello?” You said as you picked it up.

“Dr. L/N? It’s Lou, from the hospital. I was assigned to Mr. Minkus-” A panicked voice said.

You froze when you remembered the patient from earlier, the one who needed an emergency surgery “Is everything okay?”

“He went into cardiac arrest a few minutes ago but we managed to control it. But he is still very weak and needs surgery right now before he-”

“I’m on my way”

You ran into Calum’s room without making much noise. You changed into your clothes and called an Uber. You hated to do it when he was still sound asleep in his bed, but people needed you and you needed to go, he will surely understand.

As the Uber parked outside, you almost forgot to leave him a note, so you scrabbled your number and your name in a random piece of paper, telling him to call you so you could explain everything when he woke up and placed it in the pocket of the jacket he wore the night before, since it was the only thing close to the door at that moment, hoping he won’t be mad when he calls.

So you slipped in your shoes and left. Leaving the man you were surely falling in love with, sleeping safe and soundly on his bed.

Four.

You were at another party at Ashton’s house and this time you were alone.

Calum was standing a few meters away from you with his hands around another’s waist.

“This is the reason,” You thought as you watched him give his significant other a kiss on the cheek “This is the reason he never called or texted after you had sex”

You felt used. Worse than trash itself as you realized he used you for a night’s only fun.

You shouldn’t even feel bad, you barely knew him after all. But why does it hurt so bad?

A year ago you thought you might love him and that he might love you… guess not.

Calum caught your eye after a while, they seem sad. Why? He is the one holding another person in his arms on New Year’s Eve.

And you are on your own. That’s what you get for believing in fairy tales.

He is still staring when you turn around to leave.

You are not waiting until midnight this year.

Five.

Calum is staring at the door like a guard dog. He doesn’t know why he is waiting for you to come around this year, after all, you were the one who left him on New Year’s day almost two years ago. He shouldn’t be waiting for you and yet, he does.

He was mad at first. Furious even, when he woke up the next day and you were gone. Not even a single word for him to find comfort with. He knew he was in love with you from the first moment he saw you and then… you left. He knew he deserved it after the times he had to leave unexpectedly, but he was still heartbroken.

The boys tried to help him, setting him up on dates that meant nothing to him. Nothing like you, at least. Their kisses didn’t light up a flame inside of him, nor made him feel like the king of the world just by laying beside them. No, that was something only you could do.

He tried to start a new relationship by the New Year, yet that came crashing down quickly after a few weeks into January. He still remembered the way you looked that night, the way your eyes filled with tears as you walked away again. He knows he should've felt something in the lines of pride or comfort or even happiness to show you that he could move on without you, but all that he felt was the tugging on his heartstrings when he saw you in pain.

So, maybe that is why he is waiting for you now. He needs to see you again, just one more time and then he’ll know what to do. He will either let go or hold on to you, whatever you give him he will take. But it’s getting late and you are nowhere to be seen.

The fear of you not showing up takes him by surprise. You might as well be at home, or at somebody else’s party wrapped in someone else’s arms for all he knows. He might’ve lost you but.. who lost who first? How could anyone be winning when all he feels is an emptiness at the possibility of not seeing you again? Even though you left him and not the other way around, he is still looking for you.

A loud thud and a scream came near the living room and shook him from his thoughts. Calum got up to his feet as people started yelling for an ambulance. He ran as fast as he could and found Ashton laying on the floor with his foot twisted to the side… it did not look good.

“Mate, what the fuck?” He asked shocked, he knew nothing about ankles and their anatomies, but it was obvious they weren’t supposed to look like that.

“I fell down the stairs and I think I broke something” Ashton hissed in pain “Have you been drinking?” He asked Calum who shook his head, already knowing the next question.

“Come, I’ll take you to the hospital”

They left Luke in charge of the party as they headed towards the nearest hospital they could find. Calum silently lamented not being there anymore in case you showed up, but he wasn’t going to let his best friend stay in a hospital room alone, especially on New Year's Eve.

Once they reached the emergency room, the nurses put Ashton in a wheelchair and took him for examination. A few minutes later he was back and now they moved him to a little bed in the corner of the room as they waited for the doctor to come by.

“I’m sorry I took you away from meeting Y/N again,” Said Ashton after a while.

Calum shook his head “Don’t be. Maybe we weren’t meant to happen after all”

But Calum knew that wasn’t true. He was a big believer in fate and that everything happened for a reason. He knew that seeing you every New Year’s Eve and sharing that kiss with you at midnight had to mean something, it couldn’t just be coincidences without a motive, a reason for that to keep happening. Yet, this would be the second year he has to spend midnight without you by his side. Maybe fate was trying to tell him something he just didn’t want to accept just yet.

And just as that thought came running through his head, the doctor opened the curtain that gave a little privacy to Ashton’s little corner. Calum almost loses his breath for a minute.

“Okay, Mr. Irwin it looks like- oh shit” You looked up from your tablet with the medical records and almost dropped it when you found Calum sitting in front of you. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

You just stare at each other for a few seconds, everything else faded away. Calum thought you looked different with your white coat and your standard uniform, yet none of that made you less breathtaking than you already were, it made you even more beautiful to his eyes.

At first, you thought it was some kind of prank. You changed shifts to work in New Year so that you won’t see his face and here he is. At your job. Next to his friend with a broken ankle.

You cleared your throat and looked away, suddenly finding Ashton’s foot a lot more interesting than it really was.

“Sorry. Looks like you broke your ankle, nothing too serious but you will have to put on a cast so it heals quicker” You didn’t look at Calum, you couldn’t “The ortho specialist will be here shortly. I’m just here to making sure the meds are working fine and that nothing else hurts”

Ashton smiled at you, it was supposed to be comforting but you saw a glimpse of teasing in them, oh this must be so funny to him “Thanks Doc”

You smiled at him and shook your head, eyes drifting towards Calum for just one second before saying “It’s not a problem, Happy New Year” and walking away.

The thoughts were running through your mind like the roadrunner. You did everything you could to avoid meeting him tonight and he still makes an appearance. Unbelievable.

You didn’t even make it five steps before Calum ran up to you “Y/N! Wait”

“I’m at work, Calum” You hissed, not turning around to face him just yet

“Yet we are your only patients” It was true, surprisingly enough, the ER has never been so quiet before. Even the nurses went to hide behind a desk to wait for midnight and drink alcohol-free cider.

You sighed tiredly, you didn’t want to play this game anymore. You slowly turned around and placed your tablet on the empty desk “What do you want from me, Cal? What do you want me to say?”

“Maybe start by saying why you left that morning without telling me?” His eyes were fixed on you, yet they weren’t angry or disappointed. They were expectant, curious about what you were going to say. He knew that this was it, the hold on or let go conversation, and how he hoped to hold on.

You, on the other hand, looked at him like he was crazy “Without saying anything? Calum I left you a note! I had an emergency surgery to attend, I explained it all there and I even left you my number! You were the one who never called and then showed up with a date the next year. How do you think that made me feel, you idiot?!”

“What note? There was no note!” He asked, clearly confused about this new information.

You groaned with exasperation, how can he be so dense? “In your coat, Calum! I left it in the pocket of the blue coat you wore that night, I couldn’t find anywhere else to put it as I was heading out”

Calum stayed silent, trying to remember the exact coat you were talking about. And, in a flash, it all came back to him. He was an idiot.

He covered his face with the palm of his hand, mortified for what he was about to say “I washed the coat the next day as it got stains of food in it” He said with a groan “I found a piece of paper in the coat after I washed it, it was destroyed and I thought it was the receipt of the food from the night before”

You stared at Calum for a moment before bursting out laughing.

Calum, on the other hand, didn’t find it as amusing as you. But the more he thought about it the more ridiculous it sounded, so he soon joined you in a fit of giggles.

All of the hurt you both endured, the pain and the heartbreak… it was all for a misunderstanding caused by detergent?

“Oh my god,” You said as you tried to catch your breath, “I thought you were done with me after we-”

“I thought you were done with me!” He replied, both of you coming down from your highs.

“Calum, I could never. I told you I would never, not even if I tried” You said with a sigh “But seeing you with another after that... “

“It meant nothing,” He assured, walking up closer to you “I admit I tried to get over you cause I didn’t know what else to do. I was falling in love with you and then you disappeared without a trace. I was so angry. But as soon as I saw you that night I knew I could never be over you, even if what we have only last until midnight”

You chuckled “We can never win past that point, can we?”

“We can try,” He said, his arm around your waist and he pulled you closer “I want to try, Y/N. I assure you I cannot make it another year without at least going on a date with you. If you let me, of course. Cause I think we’ll be pretty good together, don’t you think?”

“I think we will. As long as you check your pockets before throwing something at the washer. Cause I was falling for you too, and I don’t think I ever stopped” You threw your arms around his neck, pulling your face closer to his. You missed him like this.

You missed all of him, really. You don’t know exactly what it is that draws you to him, why after all this time of meeting once a year you feel like you knew him since forever. It was new but at the same time so familiar. You know it should scare you, but you feel safer than ever wrapped around his arms “Is it midnight yet?”

Calum shook his head and pointed to the clock upon the wall. Ten seconds.

“Nine, eight, seven…”

“Six, five, Four, three, two..”

“One.” You both said in unison as your lips met again. The kiss that you awaited all year long was finally here and it was full of promise. The promise of a future together, of security and love.

You were sure it could not be a coincidence that every year you spend it by his side, that from the moment you met, no other thought has filled your head. Every piece of you seemed to be molded perfectly to fit him and vice versa. The connection was too strong to ignore and, if you believed in soulmates, then there was no doubt Calum was yours. After all, you went through to meet every year, you knew it must be fate that brought you two together, that and a broken ankle.

Speaking of that…

“HAPPY NEW YEAR” Came Ashton’s loud voice from the corner of the room. Making you both break away from the kiss to laugh.

“He just had to keep up with the tradition of interrupting us,” Calum laughed.

“Please tell me you didn’t push him down the stairs to come and see me” You giggled as you took his hand in yours and walked up to Ashton to keep him company.

“I would’ve thrown myself from the stairs if it meant I would get to see you, darling”

That night you finally gave him your number and planned a date for the next day. But not even five minutes after they were gone, you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket.

“Hello?”

“I had to make sure!” You laughed as you heard Calum’s voice through the speaker.

“See you tomorrow, Cal?”

“And for all the days and years to come, baby”

Tags: @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @talksoprettyjjx @theshyspy @mystic-232

[thefanfictionartist]

First Name Basis

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou X Y/N

Summary: After becoming friends w/ benefits with Y/N, Bakugou finds himself thinking about her more and more. The problem is they agreed that they couldn’t catch feelings for one another. If Y/N finds out, he’s totally screwed.

Word Count: 2.8k

Rated M for Mature; intended for 18+ audiences.

Part One

A/N: Requests at the moment are open. Please feel free to message me with your requests!

~            ~            ~            ~            ~

Maybe the first sign was that he found himself infuriated when you called him Bakugou.

It felt.. impersonal, as though the two of you didn’t have some kind of sexual favor arrangement. As though you hadn’t touched every inch of one another behind closed doors. Like you weren’t spending hours of alone time with each other for the past few weeks. “Bakugou, do you have a pencil I could borrow?” You were whispering in a nearly silent classroom as everyone worked on an essay for finals, but he winced as though you had caught him off guard by screaming at him. At first, he wasn’t going to say anything. One of his spare pencils already extended out to your grabbing hand. His brow furrowed with a small pout etched into his frown, and his thoughts made his grip on the pencil linger. With a small tug, you noticed the seeming reluctance he had to give you his pencil. “I’ll give it back to you after class. Rela-” “Call me Katsuki.” He cut you off, finally retracting his hand after his statement. For a moment you’re too surprised to continue your classwork, the request coming out of the blue. You weren’t sure how to respond so you just nodded. For the rest of the class, you struggled to finish your essay, wondering if you should’ve responded properly or not. By the time lunch came around, you had concluded that even if you wanted to, you were too choked up with surprise to call him Katsuki at that moment. Plus, you hadn’t called him by his first name before. In fact, you were pretty sure the only time you heard anyone call him by his first name was in the first year of UA when Aizawa bothered with attendance, and the few times you saw his mom with him in public. A few other classmates had nicknames for him, but none ever used his first name. And as far as you knew, he hadn’t requested for them to.                                                           - - - - -

You sat down at lunch, a few hours after Bakugou’s sudden request, waiting for the rest of the squad to join you. Unsurprisingly, he was sitting next to you moments later, just like he was every lunch, with a bento box that was definitely packed by his mom. You could tell because of the notes she left. ‘Don’t be a brat!’ was written today on a sticky note that rested on top of his food. A small heart was drawn in the corner, causing your lips to curl with a smile. “Aww, Katsuki, your mom’s always so sweet!” You meant it. The fact that she always took the time to write out a special note for his lunch showed how much love she had for her only child. It made you a little jealous, with the lunch you had prepared on your own last night in front of you. Although, it wasn’t your parents fault when they had such busy work schedules. A scowl paints itself on his lips, even though Bakugou felt like smiling and laughing with a small spark of joy. 

“Shut up!” He yelled curtly. While he was embarrassed at the fact that his old hag had managed to slip another note into his bento, it was hard to focus on that when there was a more important fact that happened. You actually said his name. His first name.

His heart felt like exploding and he couldn’t thank Kaminari enough for coming to sit at the table to distract you after you giggled at his small outburst. It would probably be unfavorable for you to notice the effect you had on him. After all, he knew the rules of your arrangement. He couldn’t fall in love with you and you couldn’t fall in love with him. Otherwise, the late night stress relief sessions would come to an end. And you’d probably never talk to him again. That’s what scared him more than anything. Nothing was worth giving up the precious time he got to spend with you. Bakugou covers his mouth with his palm and leans his elbow on the table, inwardly cringing at his own thoughts. God, what was wrong with him? This shit was beyond sappy and he didn’t do sappy. At least that was what he believed at first. So he chose to attempt ignoring the extremely distracting thoughts he had about his feelings for the moment. And it kinda worked…

                                                        - - - - -

For a while, he was able to push aside his personal feelings as he found himself focusing on integrating into the world of being a pro hero. Luckily, Fat Gum kept him busy with missions he could do solo. Occasionally, he worked with Kirishima since they had what Fat Gum called “Unattested Camaraderie”, meaning they had more trust in each other than any duo he’d seen; And that status of friendship with Bakugou and Kirishima wasn’t going to change any time soon. 

Since you and him left UA, you didn’t see each other as often. After about two months of only getting to see you once a week, Bakugou was uneasy. Perhaps a tad bit on edge. Somehow, you had managed to creep back into his mind, and no matter what he tried, it was impossible not to miss you.

A harsh sigh escapes him as he settles into the break room on the sixth floor of Fat Gum’s Agency. “Whoa Bakubro, you okay?” Kirishima, who was across the room getting himself water, looked at his friend with a deep concern. Even though over the years he had definitely mellowed out a bit, Bakugou was always such a ball of energy, explosive or otherwise; so seeing him look so exhausted was unusual for Kiri. He almost looked defeated, with the way his shoulders slouched and how his hands held his head over his lap. Bakugou doesn’t even glance his way. “ ‘M fine, Kiri.” He waves his right hand dismissively. “Just tired.” He seems to punctuate his sentence by laying back on the couch, eyes closed with supposed drowsiness. Kirishima gives him a skeptical look, but seems to take his word for it. “Alright.” The redhead takes a deep drink of water from a paper cup. “Well, if you’re up to it later tonight, Kaminari invited everyone to go to this new club downtown. It should be fun.” He can see the protest bubbling in Bakugou’s chest before he adds, “Y/N is gonna be there.” From his seat on the couch, Bakugou opens his eyes to glare blunt red daggers in Kirishima’s direction. He can see the sly look his friend gives him, and sighs again, combing calloused fingers through his spiky hair, which has become tangled and dirty from a long day of hero work. “Fine.” The blonde speaks through gritted teeth. Curse Kiri and his damn stalking. Why did he always have to be so involved in Bakugou’s personal life? Of course, Kiri wasn’t intentionally stalking. You just get to know people and their private lives a lot better when you’re roommates with them. “Be ready by 6:30. Kaminari said to be there at 7.” “I’ll be ready whenever I damn feel like being ready, Shitty Hair.” Bakugou grumbled before getting up to finally leave the agency for the day.

                                                                    - - - - -

Bakugou was ready to leave at 6:00 and anxiously tapped his foot until a neon sign reading ‘Boulevard 3’ hung just above Kirishima’s crimson sports car. In which case, he was forced to stop tapping his foot as he got out of the vehicle and entered the club. Unsurprisingly, he and his redheaded friend were let in immediately by the bouncer; past bunches of people who were packed in a line that would probably never make it inside. That was just one of the perks of being a pro hero. As Bakugou walks in, he can see the many other pros and sidekicks who have been let in for opening night. 

The music thumped in a way that made him feel like a second heartbeat, and the air was already humid from fog machines placed below the DJs platform. Rather than joining in with the sultrous dancing, Bakugou found his way to the bar.

He thought it would be much easier to spot you from here. 

And he was right.

There you were, on the edge of the dance floor. A skin tight black dress clinging to your curves perfectly as you danced.

Bakugou had no idea how long he was watching you for, but he couldn’t help it. You looked so carefree and happy. Like someone who had nothing to worry about except how much fun you had with your friends. 

At first, you danced with Mina. Spinning and waltzing around as silent giggles spilled from your mouth. The longer the night went on, the more people seemed to join you on the dance floor. And eventually you found yourself between Mina Ashido and Denki Kaminari, a sheen of sweat layering your body as everyone swayed to the music. 

Your hands gently held Mina’s hips, and every once in a while you would lean to put your lips to her pink neck as you told her something; and she would laugh in response, pressing against you as the music pumped through her veins. Behind you, Denki grinded against the plush feeling of your ass as his hands wandered to whatever places of your body he could touch. You didn’t mind, given the setting, plus the fact that you knew him well enough to know he would back off if you wanted him to. 

But in the moment, you were enjoying how it felt to dance between two of your friends. You were thriving off of it because the music made you feel electric and alive. 

And Bakugou hated it. 

He hated watching you dance with Dunce Face and Raccoon Eyes. He hated the way Kaminari’s hands groped so greedily at your body as he shamelessly ground himself against you. He hated how closely you were bringing Mina to you. And most of all, he hated the fact that he wasn’t dancing with you. 

In a jealous flash, Bakugou finds himself pulling you by the wrist out of the club and into a much more private alleyway.

You look at him with anger in a way he had never seen you before. 

“What the hell! What’s wrong with you?!” You yell at him and he almost flinches at your words. “You can’t just pull me away to fuck when I’m having fun with friends!”

Bakugou looks at the ground, contemplating why he had done that without a plan and, meaning to apologize, he responds, “Just friends, huh?” His normally loud voice comes out in a mumble. “Dunce Face seemed to have a little more than ‘just friends’ on his mind.”

For a moment, you feel like slapping him. 

“Are you kidding me?” You settle for just glaring at him as you wait for an actual explanation. After a few seconds, your expression softens. Why does he look so.. Sad?

“... I’m sorry.” The apology coming from his mouth makes your jaw drop.

“Wh-”

“I was jealous.” Bakugou finally looks up at you to see that your fury has been replaced with confusion. “Don’t fucking make me repeat that. You heard me, alright?” His red eyes find their way back to the ground again.

God, he messed up. He messed up bad. 

But at this point if he didn’t confess, he was gonna explode.

“I think..” He pauses and winces before saying what he had to. “I think I’m in love with you, Y/N.” He expects you to punch him and tell him ‘it’s over’, that you would never speak to him again. Instead, you stand and stare at him, an unreadable expression on your face. So he continues, ready to outline the terms of your agreement for himself. 

“I know, I know. That means what we’ve had is over.. My dumbass went and fell in-”

You cut him off by standing in front of him, your eyes on his as you utter the words, “Kiss me, Katsuki.”

It takes a second for his brain to recircuit and process your words. Before you know it, his lips are on yours, fervently kissing you with a passion you haven’t felt from him. It makes you melt into his hands as they guide themselves around your hips and waist to push you against a concrete wall. 

His knee finds its way in between your legs so that his well muscled thigh can rub against you.

He pulls away from your lips and kisses roughly along your jawline, nibbling gently until he gets to that one sweet spot on your neck that makes you moan so angelically for him.

“Mm, Katsuki..” You moan his name breathlessly as he abuses your neck with his teeth, leaving marks that would no doubt take days to disappear. You can’t help but grind against his thigh for relief that your core so desperately needs. 

Your moans echo softly off the walls of the alleyway the two of you occupy, but neither of you could care less about the setting.

Not when all either of you wants is the carnal desire coming from the other. 

One of your hands snakes down to rub Bakugou’s caged erection, eliciting a sinful groan from his lips. “Fuck-” Breathing heavily against you, his shuddering breaths cause goosebumps to crawl across your skin. 

Your fingers rush to undo his pants so that your hand can reach more efficiently into his boxers. 

As your bare hand touches his cock, he bucks his leg against you, giving delicious pressure to your clit and making you pause to enjoy the feeling. 

“I need you, Y/N.” He punctuates his sentence with a soft kiss to the junction between your neck and collarbone. Agreeing with him, you nod, unbuttoning his dress shirt faster than you ever thought you could, just so you can touch his skin. 

He slips your panties to your feet, letting one of your feet slip out before hoisting you up against the wall. 

Your dress rides up as you wrap your legs around his waist, settling your dripping pussy against the head of his cock with a small whimper. 

Wasting no time, Bakugou bucks into you, stretching you in that glorious way he always does. Except it feels much better to feel his cock without a condom smoothing the surface. You cry out, grasping his bare shoulders tightly as he finds a relentless pace for you. 

You moan his name, pulling him into a kiss while you’re sent into blissful pleasure. 

“I love you-.. too- Katsuki.” 

The confession makes his cock throb, the warm walls of your pussy enveloping him in a way that makes him curse. “Shit- I’m gonna cum.”

You nod the best you can, whimpering a small, “Me too.”

“Cum with me, baby.” He prompts, and moments later your walls flutter around him tightly while you moan in ecstacy. 

“Fuck!” 

Bakugou grunts, his cock twitching in your warm hole. You can feel a hot liquid fill you in spurts and can’t help the small whine of pleasure that leaves you as his cum covers your sensitive walls. 

Both of you still pant heavily when Bakugou places you on your shaky legs. He slips himself back into his pants and you just get done with adjusting your own clothing when you hear a loud “OH!”

Turning to the end of the alleyway with surprise, both you and Bakugou redden when you see Kirishima standing at the end. His sharp-toothed grin gives away that he knew exactly what had just gone down. You flatten your hair abashedly as Bakugou berates his roommate. 

“Oi! What the fuck, Shitty Hair!” 

He stomps to the redhead angrily, probably intending to push him back into the club, when Kirishima reaches into his pocket to grab something. 

Before Bakugou can reach him, he throws car keys at him. 

“Take my car, Bakubro. I’ll catch a ride home from Mina or something.” Bakugou grabs the keys, which fell unceremoniously to the floor, and when he looks up, Kirishima is already gone. 

“Damn Shitty Hair..” He grumbles as he walks to you, although he seems to fall back into a favorable mood with you closer to him. “Let’s get you home.”

You smile, unconsciously gnawing your bottom lip, which was already swollen from Bakugou’s own teeth. “I could always spend the night at your place..” Nonchalantly, you readjust the collar of his shirt before buttoning the bottom of it. 

Your eyes meet his and you lean in as he smiles in an uncharacteristically soft way. 

“It wouldn’t be bizarre for a girlfriend to spend the night with her boyfriend now would it?” For a moment, Bakugou just appreciates the fact that you called yourself his girlfriend. Then he appreciated the way you look after you’d been fucked. 

The way your cheeks flushed. The way the hickeys on your neck started to become purple. The swollen look of your lips after kissing so intensely.

But most of all, he appreciated the way your eyes seemed to light up when you looked at him now. It was strange that he never noticed before. 

“No. No, it wouldn’t be.” He answered before giving you a gentle kiss.

[smoochkooks]

— lost stars, part 1 (m.)

⟶ pairing: jeon jungkook/reader

⟶ genre: smut, angst, (troubled) idol au, childhood friends to lovers

⟶ word count: 20k

⟶ summary: in dead hours of the night he stumbles upon the bars, reaching, searching, trying to feel something, for once forget about consequences and taste the bittersweet freedom. between sips of addiction and faint touches of nameless lovers he finds you again: his own long-lost star on a blackboard sky.

⟶ warnings for part one: explicit sexual content, dom!jungkook, rough sex, oral (m receiving), fingering, dirty talk, degradation, light breath play, unprotected sex, infidelity, mentions of mental health issues, smoking, drinking etc., this is sad im sorry

⟶ music: lost stars, young god, the hills and more here. 

PART TWO (FINALE): HERE!

Jungkook can’t sleep.

Moonlight is gradually slipping through the unveiled curtains that he hasn’t even bothered shutting out for the night, letting the silvery luminescences gleam over the expanses of his room callously. It's the first full moon of the month, an argent king on the cloudless sky preventing many people that particular night from falling asleep.

Jungkook lays on his bed, long body slumped on unmade, messy sheets. Brightness illuminates over his features, making his skin glow in porcelain white. Every edge of him is chiseled. From his thin lips, through the slope of his nose and paleness of his forehead, Jungkook might be a beautiful imitation of a marble sculpture. Although he isn't, heaviness of his limbs and suffocating pressure weighting down on his chest like tons of rocks make him feel like one.

Digital clock on his bedside table reads midnight, four red zeros signaling change of the date. It's so painfully silent in the confines of his room, yet Jungkook doesn't sleep. And it's not because of some scientificly proven theory connecting insomnia to the full moon. He hasn't shifted on his bed since he laid there an hour or so ago. He stares blankly at the ceiling, inhaling the chilly air of March flowing inside through the open window. There is without a doubt too cold to lie uncovered like that, with bare legs and thin t-shirt thrown on, but he doesn't seem to care, not when shivers run down his arms, not when the sudden puff of wind blows the strands of raven hair off from his forehead. He stays like that, hands folded on his stomach, eyes glued to the silver lights on the ceiling, and time ticks.

Jungkook doesn't remember when was the last time he has gotten some good amount of sleep in the night. Perhaps it was a year or two ago, when after particularly hectics days it took him only a few seconds to fall into the peaceful slumber as soon as his cheek met the cool material of his pillow. A lot of has changed since that; it's bitterly oblivious he has changed too. His insomniac tendencies are only a small part of the whole spectrum.  

Jungkook doesn't wish the sleep to come and cure him. He has stopped a long time ago, when he realised it's just pointless. There are times when it gets better, when he doesn't need to nap uncontrollably during the day instead of doing that while it's dark out. Tonight seems like one of those dead end situations. Maybe after a few hours his eyes will tire out enough to flutter shut on their own accord and bring him the awaited couple of hours of mindless numbness, and the sun will raise again, as it always does.

However, that night, like many of them before, Jungkook doesn't wait helplessly.

A sigh and a minute later, he kicks off the sheets and stands up from his bed, walking to the nearby closet. He puts on the first pair of black jeans he manages to find and replaces his worn out t-shirt he wears to sleep with a new, fresh one. He flicks the lights on for a brief moment to examine himself briefly in the mirror. He needs haircut, loose strands are falling on his forehead and he swamps them off, running his fingers through the black locks. He looks even more tired in the artificial lighting of his room, definitely not like the marble sculpture, certainly not like the spot-on idol this country loves and admires. The skincare products his stylists have given him to put on his face everyday are doing a quite good job, but not good enough to fully hide the bangs underneath his eyes. This kind of magic only stage makeup can provide.  

Now, Jungkook looks painfully ordinary. He isn't Jeon Jungkook of BTS, he doesn't want to be during nights like this one. That's why he fishes out of the drawer his black mask and puts it in the pockets of his denim jacket. There is probably too cold outside to go out dressed like that, but Jungkook doesn't falter.

He doesn't falter opening the door to his room and stepping into the dark hallway of the dorm. He doesn't falter putting on his shoes as silently as he can. He doesn't falter reaching for the knob to the main door and twisting it. Even if he has promised he won't do that again, that the last time when he came home at ungodly hour, smelling of sleazy bars and cheap alcohol, with faint reminiscences of the touches of nameless lovers on his skin, was truly last.  

Even if the pang of guilt is still there, at the back of his head, when he exhales the air of the night, it fades away.

If someone ever asked Jeon Jungkook to describe freedom, he would say it smells like Bongcheon Underground Station.  

He’s never been there before or at least he doesn’t remember doing it. The sign indicates it’s the line number two, a green one to be more exact. He doesn’t know in which part of the city he is, maybe half an hour away from the luxurious housing estate he lives in with the rest of the boys, maybe further. At some point during the train ride he's lost the track of time.  

It’s probably irresponsible, careless, unwise and stupid to be a widely-known figure using public transportation in the middle of the night completely alone, but this run-down underground station in Jungkook's head is his own manifesto of mock freedom, consequences to be damned.

Jungkook knows he's risking a lot right now. The sick thirl is already there, boiling the blood in his veins. This is all he has; the mirage of liberty, his own revolt against the unfairness of the world. His testament of lost youth.

Before someone will see him standing on the platform and staring ahead of himself with blank eyes like a mad man, he decides to walk out of the station.  

A young couple around his age passes him on the stairs and he can’t help but spare a glance in their direction. They aren’t aware of his presence, holding onto each other and giggling drunkily. Something squeezes in Jungkook’s chest at the sight. It’s not any kind of jealousy, no. He’s grown up from being a rebel teenager. He’s grown up from the dreams of college parties, going on dates with pretty girls and having late-night snacks with his friends after gaming sessions.

Now Jungkook is just angry. Someone may say he doesn’t have the right to, he has everything an ordinary twenty-two year-old can desire. Yet, Jungkook is the one calling the world unfair while being on top of it.

There is a poster with his face hanging just above the entrance to the station. He stops in his tracks, scoffing cynically. Poster-Jungkook, spot-on idol from the biggest boyband in the country smiles at him, showing a row of blindingly white teeth. He has a face cream in his right hand, the softness of his photoshopped face and boyish glint in the eyes trick thousands of people into buying whatever he recommends.

What would Poster-Jungkook say seeing him now, Jungkook wonders. Barefaced, with mask covering half of his features, ruffled hair that he should have hidden underneath a cap. Poster-Jungkook probably wouldn’t like to make friends with someone like him. Poster-Jungkook is here to sing his heart out, to entertain fans and make his parents proud. Poster-Jungkook has never been at Bongcheon Underground Station.  

With one last glance, Jungkook exits the station, stepping into the streets of Seoul.

The clock on his lockscreen reads 1am, Saturday, March 21th. He reaches to his face, pulling the mask down a little to inhale the chilly air. The smell of nearby Chinese restaurant reminds him it’s definitely a terrible idea to drink on an empty stomach but he shrugs off this thought, walking ahead of himself, with no plan in mind.

It’s not everyday he uses underground to travel around the city like most citizens do. Ironically, this mundane thing is a luxury he normally can’t afford. But nighttime has it’s own rules.

Using his car isn’t a debatable option when he knows he's going to distract himself with numerous sips of alcohol later. He cannot use taxi as well. Not when he hates having small talks with middle-aged men while being half-wasted, half-asleep on the backseat, head buzzing, world spinning. In worst case scenarios, the said taxi driver might be a dad of one of his fans.  

(Yes, it happened before. It caused a lot for Jungkook's intoxicated brain to make up some silly story and convince the poor man he was coming home from his friend's birthday party, not running away from his one night stand's place.)

Asking one of their personal drivers to lift him up somewhere won’t do any good too because one: it definitely isn’t an emergency situation, although Jungkook would most likely argue it kind of is and two: going out in the night is too risky and most importantly, strictly forbidden for him since the last time Jimin found him unconscious on their doormat.  

He wants to laugh at himself, remembering the very first time he tried to sneak out of the dorm without permission.

He was merely eighteen back then and his friend from Busan came to Seoul to celebrate his acceptance into the university. Of course, teenage Jungkook had asked for approval like the well-raised young man he was. That’s impossible, Jungkook, was the answer and I really hadn’t seen that friend for a long time, please, wasn’t enough to change minds and melt hearts. And that was when eighteen-year-old Jungkook decided it was the final straw. He had enough of watching snapshots from his friends, living their teen years to the fullest. He wanted to live too.

He had planned everything in details. Namjoon and Yoongi were at the studio, Hoseok was visiting his family in Gwangju, Seokjin went to sleep early, Jimin and Taehyung were playing video games in their room. All occurrences seemed to be on his side. Until they weren’t.

He announced to everyone he wasn’t feeling well and locked himself inside his room. He waited for the right moment, then opened the door and peeked his head out. It was dead quiet, beside muffled bursts of laughter coming from the other end of the hallway where Taehyung and Jimin were still playing. Holding his breath, Jungkook tiptoed to the entrance.

It felt so electrifying back then, when he took the handle into his hand and pushed, doing something that he wasn’t supposed to. When he found himself taking the cab to his hyung’s place, fingers drumming the unknown rhythm of excitement on his jean-clad thighs.  

It doesn’t feel like that anymore. There’s a rush of adrenaline but not the good kind. What was once a silly rebellion of a boy with romantic soul, is now nothing but a routine.

That night didn’t turn out as he wished. It ended with him getting wasted to the point he had to call Seokjin to pick him up. He still remembers the furious scolding the older one gave him. He remembers how he promised it was a one-time thing, how he regretted his childish actions and irresponsibility.

But it happened again and again. And it got only worse over the years.  

Jungkook keeps marching ahead of himself, looking around the unfamiliar neighborhood. It's a more industrial part of the city; it doesn’t look like leafy, peaceful area he lives in. He can only imagine how the flats inside those buildings look like - cramped, cluttered. Maybe they look just like their old dorm when he was merely sixteen, with head full of dreams, sleeping every night on a bunk bed underneath Taehyung.

Upon seeing a fluorescent, red neon sign, he stops in his tracks. The club looks nice from the outside and even though it stopped being an indicator for Jungkook some time ago, he decides to step inside with the same goal in mind as usual: get drunk and then leave.

Loud, thumping music fills his ears as soon as he enters the building. He passes the mass of nameless silhouettes, heading straight to the bar and slumping down on one of the stools.  

“What can I get you?”  

Jungkook looks up, meeting the eyes of friendly-looking bartender who seems not to recognize him or just doesn’t give a fuck. Both options are more than anticipated when you’re a well-know celebrity who decided to get drunk on a Friday night.

“Doesn’t matter. Just give me something strong.”  

Bartender nods in understanding and Jungkook sees him reaching for the bottle of whiskey and pouring the substance into a glass already filled with ice cubs.  

I don’t even like whiskey, Jungkook realizes. But at the same time he knows he hasn’t come here to sample. He’s here to let loose, to taste the bittersweet freedom this umber alcohol provides and represents. Each sip burns his throat stronger, yet it’s always welcomed.

After the third glass, his head starts buzzing. The world spins a little when he closes his eyes; everything becomes a blurr of colors, shapes and sounds. It’s should be a sign to slow down but Jungkook automatically raises his hand to bartender, ordering another glass.  

He hasn’t even registered he’s not alone by the bar anymore.  

She’s pretty. Maybe not exactly his type, whether he has one or not, but he can’t help but spare a glance anyway. Even in his drunken state he notices she’s a foreigner; blonde locks are cascading down her back and shoulders, milky skin glowing in the fluorescent lights. He doesn’t see her face clearly yet, but he observes in the corner of his eye as she bites her plump, cherry-coloured lips, while staring down at her empty glass.  

Then, his eyes wander lower, to the smooth column of her throat, her provident collarbones and rich  décolltage. Her black dress doesn’t do quite good job covering her cleavage and Jungkook has to swallow at the sight.  

He’s fucked, buzzed and that irritating, tiny voice at the back of his head is telling him to get his shit together but every rational thought is wiped off his mind when the girl whirls around and faces him fully now. She smiles at him, or his blurry eyes are deceiving him already. Nevertheless, he smiles back at her dumbly, doing his best to maintain the enigmatic façade.

“Hi.” he says.

It’s not the first time he’s hitting on a foreign woman. It’s very much asshole of him, but he thinks it’s easier to get laid that way. In most cases he’s not the one to start a conversation, yet this time, here he is.  

“Hi, stranger.” she answers and licks her lips languidly. The raw eroticism dripping from it makes Jungkook shift on his seat. If she wants to play this game, he’s ready to make another move.  

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asks. It’s so goddamn blunt and brusque, but always works. Something about his flat English and the way he subtly smirks saying it makes women intrigued.  

She contemplates for a moment, batting her eyelashes at him until she eventually agrees. “Yes, sure.”  

He waves at the bartender, slurring his words a little. He hears the girl giggle and somehow, his next words leave his lips without a second thought.

“You like Korea?”  

She’s very talkative when she’s drinking, Jungkook notices. The question seemed to elicit something in her and she started babbling, spitting her words so fast he couldn’t catch up even if he wasn’t drunk (and knew English better). All this time he smiles at her, nodding his head and occasionally muttering “yeah” and “oh” whenever he feels like it’s the right moment.  

At some point his eyes wander to the other part of the club, where the sign shows the way to the bathroom. The girl takes a sip of her drink, showing a row of her perfectly white teeth when she catches him staring at her. And at this moment, Jungkook decides is time to interfere.

He leans closer to her, his hand ever so slightly brushing the place where the material of her dress meets her thigh. She bites her lip, waiting for his another move. Jungkook is now mere inches from her face, lust swimming in his orbs when he whispers, “You’re so beautiful.”  

She says something to him but he doesn’t register it. His hand is now fully placed on her thigh and when he opens his mouth to ask if she would like to dance with him, he feels a pair of strong hands placed firmly on his shoulders, pulling him away from her.  

“What the fuck, man? What are you doing with my girlfriend?” He hears a male voice saying behind him in English.  

Jungkook blinks, trying to comprehend what have just happened. His head spins from the sudden motion and he feels like throwing up any second. He lifts his head, meeting the terrified expression of the girl he talked to just seconds ago.  

“Are you deaf or something? I’m talking to you.”  

Someone pushes him forcefully again and that’s when he turns around with reluctance, standing face to face with very much pissed off white guy. He’s taller than him and the deep furrow of his brows tells Jungkook he’s in for a trouble.  

“James, it’s okay. We were just talking.”  

“Well, it didn’t look like that!”  

“Just let him be. He’s drunk.”

Jungkook feels like his soul has left his body and now he’s staring at the whole scene from the side. The muffled voices reach his ears but he cannot fathom anything. He pinches the bridge of his nose and squeezes his eyes.  

Another shove at his shoulder coerces him to regain his senses a little.  

“I’m not letting that fucker go that easily until he apologies. Hey, shithead!”  

Jungkook feels hands grabbing him by the lapels of his jacket. And then, when he thinks this is it – Jeon Jungkook of BTS is going to get hammered in some sleazy club by a foreigner because he couldn’t keep his hands to himself, because he’s useless peace of shit instead of the It Boy of his country, everything stops.

He knows this voice. Maybe his drunken brain is deceiving him, maybe he’s hallucinating or dreaming because he’s already lying bruised on the floor and unconscious. But he hears you and feels you, touching his arm and saying, “It’s alright, sir, he’s here with me. He doesn’t feel well. I apologize for his behavior.”  

Your grip is stronger than he remembers to be. It hurts like you’re mad at him. But is it really you, dragging him across the room, away from those people through the crowd of sweaty bodies? He squints his eyes, focusing them on your silhouette, but what he sees is merely a blurry sideprofile of a young woman.

“I can’t believe the first thing I do after not seeing you for three years straight is saving your ass.”  

There’s a wave of fresh air hitting his face. He inhales it greedily, hands extending to stabilize himself until he feels the rough texture underneath fingertips. He leans his head on the wall, eyes squeezed shut. Seconds pass, maybe even minutes, until something nudges him on the side.  

“Do you feel better now?”  

To be completely frank, Jungkook is scared to open his eyes. His sanity is slowly coming back to him and he hears you now loud and clearly. Maybe he’s really dreaming but if that’s true, why does he feel like he has a full control on his next move?  

It’s really you. Three years older than he last saw you, arms crossed over your chest and evident frown on your face. He doesn’t know why but he wants to smooth the crease between your brows. It doesn’t suit you. Your hair is shorter, your features sharper and more mature.  

You’re definitely not dream-__. His dream-___ would have scratches on her knees and some fantasy book in her hands. She sometimes visits him at dead hours of the night, asking why he hasn’t answered her calls and messages. Sometimes she stares at him from the photograph he carries in his wallet because he cannot bring himself to get rid of it.

He probably should hug you, run into your arms and thank for saving his reputation. He should hug you because it’s been three goddamn years and you were his best friend once. One of the most important people in his life, his partner in crime (and professional math tutor in primary school). God, you were his first, silly crush when you were merely ten, hair braided and pimples on your cheeks. His shoulder to lean on when he needed to cry. The girl who played football with him because there was no boys in your neighborhood with whom he could do it.

Instead, he asks, “Did you cut your hair?”

The first thing you do is raise your eyebrows, as if you’re genuinely confused he’s able to form full, coherent sentences. Next, you scoff. “Seriously? We meet for the first time in three years in a club where I work because I need to save your ass since you’re completely pissed and tried hooking up with taken woman, and that’s the only thing you have to say?”  

He doesn’t like how you sound already. Your tone matches your expression, stern and slightly irritated. But at the same time, he’s not surprised you’re acting like this.

“I’m sorry, I’m just…” he hesitates. He’s just what? Pathetic? Stupid? Reckless? Or maybe–

“Crazy?”  

He smiles sheepishly. “Yeah. That’s a good word.”

You take a step closer, standing right in front of him. “So are you going to tell me what are you doing in this part of the city, getting drunk while being a freaking idol?”  

“Isn’t it what all celebrities do?” he asks sardonically.

You roll your eyes at that, and he takes a moment to look at you more carefully now. Your cheeks are rosy from the cold and he notices a smudge of mascara underneath your left eye. And there’s another thing he remembers about you; the weird habit of staring at him intensely whenever he wasn’t aware because you were terrible at keeping eye contact.  

But it seems like a lot of has changed in that department and now you’re meeting his eyes without a hint of shyness.  

“Yeah, maybe they do. But not when they have a reputation to take care of.” you counter.  

Jungkook sighs, closing his eyes for a second. It’s still hard for him to produce logical thoughts but he knows he’s slowly sobering, the chilly air clearing his mind. You hug your coat tighter against your body and he wonders for a moment if it’s really that cold outside and he just doesn’t feel it because of the alcohol swimming in his veins.  

He’s not capable of having this kind of conversation with you under those circumstances. While you’re outside of some niche club in a part of the city he doesn’t know, reunited after three years of silence.  

You have that look on your face, the one you used to wear every time he got on your nerves and he was in for good scolding. His head pounds too much to bare with it now.  

He needs to smoke a cigarette.

He fishes a pack, placing one between his lips. He feels your eyes on him the entire time and after taking the first drag, he offers you to light up one as well.

“I quit.” you say curtly.  

“Okay.” The smoke swirls around his features and you take a step back, cringing. You never really could stand the smell.

“Is smoking even allowed for you?”  

He snickers, shaking his head. It’s funny, how you’re asking him this now, when you were the one he used to smoke occasionally with at the docks every time he visisted Busan. Eighteen, listening to Arctic Monkeys and Coldplay on his old iPhone and watching the sky burning when sun was hiding behind the horizon.

Jungkook smirks. “Out of sight, out of mind.”  

As a matter of fact, he doesn’t smoke often. It’s more like a sporadic trespass when he’s out for the night than a regular craving. Leaving aside his favor for cigarettes, he shouldn’t let himself become addicted, not when it might easily influence his lungs capacity. And Jeon Jungkook's velvet voice can’t have a hoarseness to it.

“So, you work here?” he opts to ask you, avoiding the set of questions probably already itching to leave your mouth all at once.

“I do. I actually ended my shift few minutes ago. I had some work to do at the storage room and when I walked out, I saw that guy ready to beat the shit out of you,” you say, grimacing. “To be honest, I didn’t recognize you at first. You looked… different.”  

“I guess that’s what they call the magic of stage make-up.” he jokes but his comment doesn’t make you laugh. If anything, you look even more puzzled.  

Then, his phone buzzes in the pocket of his jacket. He pulls it out just to be met with tens of notifications, mainly texts and unanswered calls from Jimin. He must have found out somehow he’s been gone.

“Fuck.” Jungkook mutters under his breath, locking his phone.  

“Something’s wrong?” You always could read him like an open book. He wasn’t very talkative kid back then and you, somehow, found a way to communicate with him on non-verbal level.  

Jungkook scratches the back of his head, smiling lopsidededly. “You’re going to laugh at me,” he sighs.

“No, I’m not.” you promise. There’s sincerity in your voice but he knows better. You’re definitely going to.  

“I’m scared to come home.” Jungkook says, entirely serious. His doe eyes widen for emphasis and you’re sure he’s shitting you yet you decide to play along.  

“And why is that?”  

He leans closer, smelling of cigarettes and his musky cologne and you almost wince. “Because I’m gonna have my ass whipped.”  

He waits a moment, and then breaks into a grin. It’s his drunkiness still speaking through him and maybe a tiny bit of curiosity how you were going to react.

You snort loudly. “That was terrible.”  

“You smiled. I saw the cornes of your mouth moving.”  

“You’re wasted, Jungkook. I’m surprised you’re standing on your own feet right now,” He pouts and you sigh, shaking your head. “So are you going to tell me what is it really about?” you ask.

He shrugs, blowing out the fume from his cigarette. “I just don’t wanna go home drunk. It will be worse than coming back in the morning, believe me. I’ve been there before.”  

Something flashes across your face hearing his last sentence but it quickly disappears, replaced by your usual, unreadable expression. You seem to think about what he has said, until you exhale loudly, making him look at you with raised eyebrows.

“Fine. You can crash at mine.”  

Jungkook knows he might have misheard you. But you’re still staring at him as if you’re waiting for him to respond. He feels dumbfounded.

“What?”  

“I saved your ass today once, I can do it again. That’s what friends are for, right?”  

He hates how bitter it sounds coming from you. He knows it’s very much what he deserves. You don’t own him anything after all he’s done to you yet here you are. Offering him help even though you don’t have to do anything.

You’ve always been too good for him.

You cock your head at him, a small smile dancing on your features he wishes was genuine. Maybe you still have a sentiment for him, after all. “You coming?” It’s what you ask, and he tosses the half-burnt cigarette, following you without a word.

And that’s how your story starts again, with reckless decision, cigarettes and underground stations.

Ironically, Jungkook ends up at the Bongcheon Underground Station for the second time that night.  

You led him wordlessly out of the building, taking a turn into direction he was familiar with. On the whole ride back to your home, you were silent. You didn’t utter a sentence to him, even when you reached your stop, you just stood up from the seat and he followed you like a lost puppy.  

Walking from the station to your flat, Jungkook decided he’s had enough of this awkward silence, breaking it first.

“So, how have you been?”  

It’s such a stupid question to ask someone you haven’t talked to for such a long period of time. Of course you can’t catch up all that have happened in last three years during ten minutes-long walk. Jungkook bites his lip, peeking at your side profile.

“It’s actually funny you’re asking this now. I’ve been good, and you? Or actually… wait! You don’t have to answer that because I know you’ve been good too, thanks to your mum who is updating mine about everything what’s going on in your life,” you say sarkily. “Oh, not to mention I also have Internet and it’s really hard to avoid news about nation’s favourite boy group, right?”  

Your harsh words make him grimace. He knows he fucked up royally and your bitter attitude towards him is the effect of his wrong doings. Yet, he can’t help but feel a little bit irritated.

“You know I’m sorry.” he mutters under his breath.  

“Oh, are you? Was it really that hard to call an old friend once in a month?”  

Jungkook looks up at the sky, as if he was wishing it could give him strenght and fill his mouth with words that will make your stony façade break just a little. “I was busy,” he answers, regretting it as soon as it slipped of his tongue.  

He hears you scowl. “Busy? Doing what? Drinking and hooking up with women?”  

Now it’s his turn to roll his eyes. “Are you really patronizing me right now? We just came across each other and I’m trying to be civil here. We’re not thirteen anymore, loose up.”  

You stop in your tracks abruptly. “I see. You don’t need my help anymore and you’re okay with sleeping under the bridge, fine.” you spit and turn your back on him, quickening your pace.

“What? Wait!” Jungkook calls after you because one: you might be not joking and two: he’s too startled to react in time and now he has to jog up to you. “You aren’t serious, right?” he asks after catching up with your hurried movements.  

You sigh, taking another turn. “God, I can’t believe you’re still that childish.”  

Jungkook frowns. “What does that suppose to mean?”  

“You know damn right what I mean.”  

You’re now walking through a typical, industrial looking neighborhood. He used to live with other boys in an area like this, back when their name meant nothing to the world and industry, when you used to talk practically every single day on the phone.  

Suddenly, you stop in front of one of the buildings, digging in your purse and pulling out the keys.  

Jungkook silently follows your figure when you enter the tenement house you’re living in. He squints his eyes, trying to remember the street name and building number. For some reason he feels like this information might be useful for him sometime in the future.

You quickly climb up the stairs until you reach the forth floor, Jungkook running out of breath with mouth hang open, and that’s when you turn around to face him.  

You don’t say anything to him. You just stare, expression stern yet unreadable at the same time. Your gaze is challenging but eventually you give up, sighing and opening the door to your flat, letting him in.  

The first thing he notices is that your flat is tiny.  

There’s barely enough space for one person in the hallway when you hang up your coat without a word, bumping into his unmoving figure when you’re trying to walk into what is probably the smallest kitchen he has ever seen.  

You pour yourself a glass of water, chugging it greedily while he still stands dumbly three meters away from you, fully dressed, unsure of what to do.

He jumps, hearing you put the glass on the counter loudly. “So, welcome in my humble abode, I guess,” you say. “Are you going to stand there the whole night?” You cock your head into his direction and Jungkook shakes his head, shrugging off his jacket and kicking off his shoes.  

“I know it’s small but the rent is cheap,” you add, referencing to the size of your apartment. You don’t need to explain, he wants to tell you but he doesn’t. Instead, his eyes wander to the other part of the flat where your bedroom is, as he assumes.

“Ah, yes, that’s my bedroom. And living room, and bureau,” you confirm, voice laced with apparent sarcasm. “Make yourself comfortable.”  

Jungkook hesitantly enters the room. There’s nothing much there beside your bed, wardrobe and a small desk with your laptop and other belongings on. One thing he realises is that you keep everything clean and tidy, despite the limited space you have here.  

“But the view is nice, isn’t it?” you ask suddenly, startling him a little. Jungkook, encouraged by you, glances out of the window and he has to admit that yes, indeed, the view is beautiful. You can see the city quite clearly from the forth floor. “I’m still surprised when I look out of the window and see rooftops instead of brick walls. I guess I’m kind of lucky.” you chuckle.  

That’s when he realises just how much more you deserve than you have. It hits him how privileged he is now, living in a luxurious area for rich snobs and celebrities who look out of their windows and see green hills. And one more time, his anger for the unfairness of this world only boils stronger in his veins.

“I gotta go the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”  

You leave him alone again, and now he has an opportunity to look at the corkboard you have above your desk. There is plenty of photos and polaroids pinned to it and he finds himself examining them without a second thought.

It seems like you have them organized chronologically. They start with you as a little kid standing in front of your house in Busan, front teeth missing and clutching your favourite doll. Next, you’re in school and surprisingly, he finds himself present on most of these photos along with you. Playing football at the backyard, eating ice cream at your favourite parlor (he has smudges of chocolate on his chin but he smiles to the camera like it means nothing). He recognizes a photo he took of you when you where in middle school, dressed as Anne Boleyn for some history project he doesn’t remember what was exactly about.

As years pass on your polaroid timeline, his face is slowly disappearing from your captured memories. He smiles when he sees his favourite photo of you, the one he also carries snuggled deeply in his wallet. It was taken by your mum on your seventeenth birthday. You went on a picnic by the sea and Jungkook surprised you with an unexpected visit, coming home back from Seoul. He gifted you a bracelet bought with the first money he had earned in his life.  

He wonders now if you still have that bracelet somewhere, hidden among many other things reminding you of your past together, just like the creased photo in his wallet he still hasn’t thrown away.  

Then, Jungkook eyes land on the most recent picture. You’re grinning to the camera while being hugged from the back by a man he doesn’t know. He presses his lips to your cheek in a fleeting kiss. An affectionate one.  

“I see you’re enjoying yourself.”  

Jungkook jolts a little hearing your voice. You come up to him and he notices you have changed your clothes for something looking much more comfier. “Remember this one?” you ask, pointing at the photo of you sitting on a beach next to the sand castle you built.  

Jungkook smiles apologetically. “Yeah.”  

“Ten seconds after taking this photo, you decided to ruin my sand castle and made my cry.”

He can’t help but share your grin when your eyes lock. There’s the same sympathy in them he’s grown to known. It feels familiar, almost domestic. He likes it.  

“So,” He nudges your side, pointing with his chin at the corkboard, “care to tell me who is this guy?” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively and you roll your eyes in response at his antics.

“That’s my boyfriend Minho.” you answer.

Jungkook doesn’t know why but for some reason, he feels uneasy now. He’s mad at himself he’s been really missing out what’s going on in your life. He shakes off these thoughts quickly though, mastering an amusing attitude.

“That was a very poor introduction, ma’am. Come on, you can do better than this. Tell me more about him.” he teases, making you sigh loudly.

“Minho is five years older than me. He’s working as a police officer. We’ve been together for almost a year. Are you happy now?” you grumble.

Jungkook smirks. “Very much.”  

“He doesn’t sleep over here so I don’t have any of his clothes you can change into,” you add awkwardly.  

He furrows his eyebrows. What are you talking about now?  

You shift on your feet, turning to face him properly and now he realises why did you say it. The clothes you have on are actually your pyjamas. Right, it’s almost two. You’re probably sleepy after your night shift and he’s keeping you up. And you’re kindly reminding him it’s time for him to rest as well.

“It’s okay, I can sleep naked.” Jungkook says. Your eyes widen almost comically at that. “Relax, love. I’ll stay with my boxers on. Unless you want to see my without them.” He raises a single brow in question.

You grimace. “Jesus, Jungkook, you’re still drunk. Go take a shower. You can use the blue toothbrush and white towel.” You slump down on your bed  and he leaves the room without another word.

Jungkook has been in many bathrooms in his life but yours can only be describe as microscopic.

He feels almost claustrophobic when he’s standing underneath your shower. The water is splashing on everything and he panicks for a moment if you will be angry at him for the mess but then he realises it’s practically impossible to keep everything around dry when he’s showering without any curtain or glass door around him.

He uses your shampoo and body wash, cleaning himself as fast as possible. They smell nice, flowery and exotic and somehow like you. Quick shower definitely has drained him from most alcohol he has in his system. He can now think through the situation he’s in with clear mind.  

After drying himself up and putting on his boxers, he stands in front your sink. He wipes off the moist on the small mirror, just to be met with his blank, tired eyes staring back at him. He really should use some good sleep. He uses the blue toothbrush just like you told him to and in the middle of the second round of brushing, he chuckles to himself at the surrealism of this whole situation.

He’s met you for the first time in three years after not speaking to you at all. You don’t own him anything and here he is, already having enormous, unpayable debt because you saved his life from the embarrassment and possible scandal.  

You were always like this, ready to put on your superhero cape and save him. Just like years ago when you stood up from your seat in math class and told the teacher you didn’t feel well right before she was about to check his homework, or rather the lack of it which was going to result in another low grade on his account. You, scaring off his fifth grade bullies. You, paring up with him for every school project and doing most of the work selflessly and without a word of complaint because you’ve always liked working alone.  

Jungkook spits the rest of the toothpaste and water mixed together to the sink and splashes his face. He really doesn’t know why he deserves you.  

The question is simple. He doesn’t. Not after being a total prick to you. But in some strange way, you took him back again, like nothing ever happened.  

When he exits the bathroom, he sees you kneeling on the floor and putting a bunch of pillows on the carpet that lies next to your bed.  

Jungkook frowns. “What are you doing?”  

You look up at him. Your eyes widen visibly when they land on his exposed chest but you quickly compose yourself. “What does it look like? I’m setting up a bed for you.” you reply, patting the pillows, still refusing to meet his stare.

“Am I not going to sleep with you on the bed? We slept together before and it wasn’t a problem then,” he says with furrowed brows.

“Are you kidding? My bed is for one person only! And you’re… you’re–“  

“I’m what?”  

“You’re big! Bigger than you used to be.” you breathe out, standing up from your kneeling position and sitting on the bed instead. There’s a tingle of barely noticeable rednees on the apples of your cheeks and he fights an urge to tickle your sides just to see you trying not to break into laughter so he could get away with your stubbornness.

“Okay, Miss Grumpy,” he grumbles, kneeling on his make-shift bed. Upon hearing that, you freeze on your spot and then he realises what he has just done.  

He called you the old nickname he’s made for you. He hasn’t done that in years.

You bite your lip, acting as if it hasn’t affected you even the slightest. Clearing your throat, you reach for the lamp on your bedside table and switch it off.  

Twenty minutes after that, Jungkook finds himself lying on his back in complete silence and staring at the ceiling. You have a few fluorescent stars attached to it, the ones that shine when it’s dark. You had probably ten dozens of them in your old room in Busan, too. A whole constellation.

Jungkook won’t lie, it is a little uncomfortable to sleep on the floor. He tells himself he’s fine with that, though. It’s what he deserves for being an absolute asshole to you. The sleep will come eventually.  

Another minutes pass and he’s still very much awake. Then, Jungkook thinks ‘fuck it’ and decides to shoot his shot.  

“___?”

You hum sleepily in response after a short while. “Yeah?”  

“I cannot sleep.”  

“Not my fault.”  

He bites his lip. “Can I sleep with you?”  

“Jungkook…”  

“Pretty please?”  

There’s a long pause before you say, “Fine.”  

He hears you shifting on the mattress, making a room for him. The bed creaks under his weight when he places himself right next you, back to your back. He wonders if he isn’t squishing you to the wall right now.  

“Are you okay?” he asks, just to be sure.

Your comforter ruffles when you try to move but there’s no use for it, not when he’s practically pressed flush to you. “Yeah. I’m good. You’re just really hot.”

“Thanks, love. No need to flutter me like that.” Jungkook murmurs, a hint of smug smile on his lips you cannot see.

“I was taking about four freaking body temperature!”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to pretend you didn’t mean it.”  

“Go to sleep, Jungkook.”  

There’s mute between you for a while. Nothing but deep exhales and inhales and occasional sounds of cars or wind coming from outside of your window.  

It’s been really a long time since he’s slept in the same bed with other person. He's not the type to stay over after casual fuck, he’s never done that. But when he lies next to you, he can’t help but longe for someone to just hold him; nothing more, nothing less. He wonders what would you do if he turned around and snuggled into your backside. Would you yell at him? Kick him out?  

But you used to be so close together once. He won’t find out unless he tries.

Carefully, with limited space, he changes his position, mattress protesting under his weight but he rolls to his other side anyway, until he’s facing your back. He feels your body tensing a little when his breath fans over your neck but you don’t say anything, letting him cuddle up to you.  

It feels intimate this way, perhaps even too intimate for both yours and his liking but Jungkook can’t help but relish in your close proximity. When he senses you’ve relaxed a little, he shuts his eyes tightly.  

“___?” he murmurs. It's barely a whisper but you heard him loud and clear.

“Mhm?”  

“I’m sorry for ruining our friendship like that.”  

You’re silent for a moment and he thinks you might have fallen asleep but then, you let out a long sigh that sounds awfully audible in the small space of your bedroom. “You still have time to fix this, Jungkookie.”  

You haven’t called him that in three years. It’s good to hear that again.

He smiles to himself, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You don’t protest. If anything, he feels you breathe out with relief.  

Next morning you wake up feeling like the temperature in your room has risen to fifty degrees. You’re still wrapped tightly in your comforter and facing the wall, which means you haven’t moved even an inch in your sleep. The cause of it being a very much large, male body practically crushing you with its weight.  

You let out a shaky exhale. Jungkook’s front is not only pressed flush to your back but somehow, his muscular leg is thrown over yours, successfully trapping you in.

You wiggle, trying to free yourself from his hold but when you hear his quiet groan, you abruptly stop your movements. And then, you feel it. An apparent hardness poking your backside.  

You can’t help but blush, reminding yourself not to make this situation even more awkward than it already is. It happens sometimes, you tell yourself, it’s completely normal for men to pop a boner when they’re in such close, intimate position with another warm body.

But when you feel Jungkook unconsciously seeking friction and pressing himself even firmer against your bottom, you can’t help but yelp in response, throwing off the material covering your body and elbowing Jungkook's unsuspecting face in process.

“Fuck! What time is it?” he mumbles groggily, narrowing his eyes when they’re met for the first time with the sunlight gradually slipping through your unveiled curtains.  

“Quarter past your dick poking my ass!”  

Jungkook furrows his brows but when his eyes land on his crotch, he smiles sheepishly at you. “I’m sorry,” he mutters. “It’s just been a really long time since I slept next to someone like that.” His cheeks are flushed in pink and he rubs the back of his head in a bashful manner.

“What about your one night stands then?” you can’t help but ask.

He shrugs in response. “I never stay over.”  

“Oh.” You don’t even know why you’re strangely surprised. Maybe it comes from the fact that you’ve always pegged Jungkook to be the rather romantic type. People change, they say. Or sometimes your assumptions about someone you thought you know like the back of your hand happen to be wrong.  

You clear your throat. “Anyway, get up. It’s time for breakfast.” you say and disappear from his sight but he still hears you fumbling in the kitchen, popping the kettle on.  

He raises from the bed with reluctance, bending to lift the puddle of his clothes he left on the floor last night.  

“Hey, what do you want to–“ you begin but your voice involuntarily trails off, seeing him in rather exposed state now in broad daylight. “–to drink?” you finish almost breathlessly.

You’ve been aware Jungkook's good looking. He’s started attending gym long before you stopped keeping in touch with each other. You just didn’t know he is that ripped. It’s not a surprise that his fans go nuts every time they see even a small glimpse of his muscles.  

You really shouldn’t be staring but it’s too late when you see a sly smirk on his face. “Like what you see, buttercup?” he asks like the cocky bastard you didn’t know he’s capable of being. “I would like a black coffee, please.” he adds.

There’s a roll of your eyes in response to his teasing tone. “Oh, stop with these nicknames.”  

Jungkook grins. “Why? Hyung used to call you that and you blushed every time.”  

“Because I had the biggest crush on your brother when I was eleven, dumbass.” you scoff, shaking your head. You leave him, heading back to the kitchen to finish preparing food.

“I know you had a crush on him,” Jungkook shouts after you, putting on his pants and t-shirt. “I’m just curious why him, not me.”  

“Seriously? You had emo fringe and pimples back then!”  

He laughs, making his way to the kitchen where you’re standing by the counter and mixing something on the frying pan.  

“Hope you don’t mind eating scrambled eggs,” you say, sparing him a quick glance. “It’s probably the only edible thing in my fridge right now beside instant ramen.”  

Jungkook settles himself on the stool by the small, wooden table situated right by the window. This time, the view is a greish wall of another building. He takes the coffe cup from you and adds a generous spoon of sugar. “I don’t mind. It smells really nice.” he answers, calming your concerns. “So, am I not crushable in your eyes?” He takes a sip of his drink, peeking at you curiously.  

You take out the plates from the cabinet and start putting the food you’ve prepared on them. “What kind of word ‘crushable’ even is? Beside, you have millions of fans gushing over you, I’m unnecessary in this equation.” you say, placing the plate in front of him.

“But you aren’t saying no,” he counters.  

“Jungkook.”  

“I know, I know,” he chuckles. “I’m just teasing you.”  

You look at him then, observing thoroughly for the first time since you saw him last night. He’s indeed handsome, there’s not a hint of doubt about that. His features are more mature, the baby fat on his cheeks gone and replaced with chiseled jawline. But if there’s one thing which stays the same, it’s his eyes. Still gleaming with misheviousness when he laughs and holding starry skies in them when he’s astounded by something.  

“Didn’t know you were such a great cook, ___,” Jungkook’s voice brings you back to the reality. He sends you thumbs up with his mouth full and you can’t help but crack a smile at his goofiness. Old habits die hard, they say. “Aren’t you eating?” he asks, staring at you with wide eyes.

You glance at your untouched eggs and opt for taking a sip of coffee instead. “I’m not that hungry.” you respond. He shrugs his shoulders at that, taking a bite of the toast.  

You nip the inside of your cheek, hesitating, before asking him a question that have been sitting on the tip of your tongue since last night. “What are you going to tell the rest of the guys when you come home?”  

Jungkook's expression immadietly shifts after registering your question. “The truth.” he says like it’s the simplest thing in the world.  

You don’t even try to hide your puzzlement, repeting after him, “The truth?” in bewildered tone.

“They aren’t going to buy that anyway. But believe me, it’s better if I came back in the middle of the night completely wasted.”  

Something’s telling you not to dread that conversation longer so you don’t press him about it any further, instead focusing on changing a topic. “Do you have anything planned for the rest of the day?”  

He nods, swallowing. “We have a dance practice later.”  

You raise your eyebrows. “New comeback?” you smile teasingly and he sends you a wink.

“That’s a secret I’ll never tell.”  

“Oh, come on. You know I can keep my mouth shut,” you pout.  

He rolls his eyes at first but then a small smile appears on his lips. “I know you can. You’ve been covering for me in school all the time.” he murmurs. At that, something warm spreads in your chest. “Come on, buttercup, I’m not spilling anything until you start eating.” he warns, pointing at your untouched food.

When you grin at him and he reciprocates the gesture, it feels like you’ve turned back the time.

“And... five, six, seven, eight!”  

Jungkook doesn’t know how many times he has repeated the same sequence of movements but he feels like passing out anytime soon. He asked Hoseok to help him practice but it looks like his older friend is in rather bad mood today and he seems to lose patience even quicker.  

“...and spin–no! Jungkook, you’re not supposed to do it like that.” Hoseok sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.  

Jungkook grimaces, collapsing on the floor. “Give me a few moments, hyung. I’ll do better, I promise.” he mutters.  

Hoseok crunches down next to him for a moment, patting him on the shoulder reassuringly. “You did good, Kook-ah. We can call it quits for today.” he says.  

Jungkook doesn’t even have strength to answer him verbally. Instead, he shuts his eyes tightly and nods. He hears Hoseok walking away and talking in the distance with Namjoon about something.  

“Are you okay?”  

Jungkook cracks an eye open. It’s Jimin this time. He kneels on the floor, observing him with worried look on his face.

“Yeah. Just need a minute to catch a breath.” Jungkook responds.

Jimin nods but Jungkook knows him well enough to sense that there’s another question at the tip of his friend's tongue. And he’s not wrong.

“Jungkook, you know you should stop doing that.”  

Jungkook sits up, turning his head in Jimin's direction, eyes narrowed into slits. “What, hyung?” he asks, not hiding is irritation. He’s heard it too many times not to feel it already blubbering inside his chest.  

“You know exactly what I mean. Partying, getting drunk, sleeping around like a–“ Jimin stops himself in time, seeing Jungkook's expression.

“Like who?” Jungkook scowls. “Come on, hyung, end the sentence.”  

Jimin shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. I’m just worried about you. We all are.” He puts his hand on Jungkook's shoulder and squeezes.  

“No need to. Besides, you’re the last one to lecture me about smart life choices.” Jungkook spats harshly and gets up, leaving Jimin staring at his disappearing figure with defeated expression.

Back in the confines of his room, Jungkook finds himself lying on his bed again. At some point, his thoughts wander back to you. He had to leave your flat quicker than he wanted because of the scheduled practice (and the hint of guilt he felt for his hyungs).  

He wonders if you can still be friends together, just like the old times. He needs it. Needs you by his side. He didn’t even know he’s been craving it unconsciously. But then he realises he didn’t even ask for your phone number. Maybe you still have the same one?  

He reaches for his phone and unlocks it, searching through his contacts. He has you saved under ‘Miss Grumpy'. It makes him smile involuntarily. His thumbs hover over the screen before he starts typing.

[21:08pm] me:  

hi, it’s me Jungkook. I don’t know if that’s still your number but I decided to give it a try. I wanted to say thank you once again for yesterday. and today’s breakfast. 

Few minutes later, his phone buzzes.

[21:11pm] Miss Grumpy:  

you’re welcome, buttercup  

Seven days later, Jungkook is at Bongcheon Underground Station again. This time, it’s not his recklessness and cynicism that led him here. He climbs up the stairs and walk into the half-asleep streets with purpose in his mind.  

He remembers exactly the path to the club you’re working in. Now he can only hope you have a shift tonight as well. 

You haven’t talked a whole week. He felt too insecure and scared to call or text you. What if you don’t want him to keep in touch? What if your last meeting and sleepover at your flat was just a favor for old times’ sake?  

That’s why he needs to see you in person. He thought about visiting you in your flat but his intoxicated brain betrayed him and he couldn’t recall your address even if he tried and he did, sitting in front of his laptop and wandering through the streets on Google maps.  

When he enters the club he’s met with the familiar buzz of electronic music and the smell of sweat mixed with nicotine. It looks like it’s his lucky day though, because here you are, talking with a client behind the bar.  

Jungkook can’t help but smile to himself. He observes you for a while from afar, watching you listening to someone’s tipsy rambling with a polite, yet forced sympathy. He decides to save you from the uncomfortable situation, marching to the bar and sitting on one of the stools.  

He sighs to himself, remembering the pieces and bits from his memory of the last time he was there, making a total fool of himself. If it wasn’t for you, his foot would never step here ever again.

You excuse yourself and leave the drunk man, just to be met with Jungkook's smiling eyes. Somehow, his brain short circuits and he sends you a wink.

You roll your eyes, approaching him. “What can I get you?” you ask. “Although after last time I suggest a glass of water.”  

He chuckles, pulling his face mask down. “When do you finish?”  

Sparing a glance at the watch you have on your wrist, you answer, “In forty minutes.”  

“A beer it is, then.”  

You hesitate, reaching for the glass. “And you’re just going to sit here the whole time, waiting for me?” you ponder with a surprised expression, just like you’d never thought he could do something like that.  

Jungkook only grins in response.  

For the next half an hour he watches you work; serving drinks to clients, polishing glasses, occasionally giving a love advices to some teary-eyed girls in a short, black dresses. Just when he’s chugging the last sip of his beer, you come up to him.  

“I’m done for tonight. You can wait for me outside.” you say.

When his in front of the bar, he pulls out his cigarettes and lights up one to pass the time. He wouldn’t call himself addicted. He smokes rather sporadically, mostly when he’s out getting wasted or when he’s stressed about something. Or just like now, when circumstances are conducive.  

Few minutes later you appear by his side. He takes one last drag and whirls to face you. “So you really quit, huh?” he asks, making you nod curtly. “And you don’t smoke even when you’re on a party?” He's almost astonished.  

“Nope, even then.” you confirm, hearing him mutter a ‘Wow’ under his breath. “Well? What now?” You cross yours arms over chest, eyebrows lifted in question.

He tosses the cigarette to the ground and tramples it with his foot. “I thought we could go to your flat, eat late night ramen and just talk.”  

“So we're hanging out now?” There’s a slight sarcastic lilt to your voice and he worries for a moment you are going to tell him to fuck off but then, your features soften. “It sounds nice but I know a spot not far away from here when we can sit and talk. If that’s okay with you.” you say.

“Lead the way, then.”

You didn’t lie when you said the place you were taking him wasn’t far away. What you didn’t tell him though, was that getting there meant climbing up the fire escape all the way to the rooftop of a run-down tenement house.  

“Care to explain me how do you know about this place?” Jungkook asks once he’s seated comfortably on an old, emerald sofa next to you. It’s a mystery to him how this peace of furniture was brought here but nevertheless, it was someone's good idea.

You were right. It is nice here. You have a full view to the city from up there and he’s sure it would be easy to see the green hills in daylight or watch how the sky burns during sunsets.

“Minho took me there first,” you explain, answering his question. “His police department is few blocks from here. One day they got a call from some angry, old lady, saying that someone was playing music very loudly nearby. When they arrived, they found out a group of teenagers had organized a party on top of the rooftop.”

Jungkook hums. “He’s quite romantic,” Upon seeing your clueless expression he adds, ‘’Your boyfriend, I mean.”  

“Ah, yeah,” You crack a smile, although he thinks it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “He is. Sometimes.”  

He decides not to press you about it any further.  

He leans his head back, closing his eyes for a brief moment and inhaling the chilly, pre-spring air. Then, he feels you nudging his side. “So, what do you want to talk about?” you ask, staring at him in anticipation. Jungkook lets out a groan in response and runs his hand down his face. You chuckle, “Hey, we didn’t come here to sit in silence. Entertain me a little, would you.”  

He sighs your name. You aren’t prone to giving up easily, he knows it. You’re probably the most stubborn person he’s had a chance to encounter and that is also one of the main reasons he came up with the ‘Miss Grumpy’ nickname when you were in fifth grade.

“I’m pretty sure the golden maknae of BTS has more interesting life than me,” you snicker and he knows it was meant to sound playful coming from you, but he feels something heavy in his chest hearing your remark.  

He musters up a small smile. “You would actually be surprised if I told you that my life isn’t as exciting as it may look.”  

It hasn’t missed your eye how tired Jungkook seems. No matter how much he tries, he can’t possibly hide fully the bangs underneath his eyes or the greish complexion of his skin. It’s weird seeing him in person like this; without stage make-up and plastered smile reserved for the fans. Seeing him so humane.

For the last three years, you only watched him on your phone's screen. But it wasn’t really him. Your Jungkook is sitting right next to you and silently observing the city during the night. Your Jungkook smoked cigarettes with you by the beach in Busan and got you an autograph from one of your favourite artists he had met personally at the backstage after some award ceremony.

Your Jungkook would never got himself drunk to the point of unconsciousness, risking his reputation. But again, you might only think you know him.

“Let’s talk about you instead,” Jungkook says suddenly, pulling you out from your thoughts. “What do you do beside working in that club?”  

You sigh. “You know I don’t like talking about myself either,”  

“I know, but we haven’t seen each other for so long. I need to catch up with you.” 

You fight an urge to scoff, “And whose fault is that?” but you’re not in the mood to argue. Nor is Jungkook, as you suppose. “I’m studying journalism. Bartending is my part-time job. I had to start working because I couldn’t afford to pay for rent just from my poor scholarship. Prices have increased so if I wanted to stay in Seoul, I needed to work, whether I wanted or not.”  

Jungkook knows there’s no words that could somehow lessen your struggles. It’s been a long time since he worried about money. Now, he can have everything he’s ever wanted yet something’s always missing. And he still hasn’t discovered how to fill that void.  

“You’re still writing?” he asks instead, referring to your hobby you’ve picked up when you were kids.  

“Yes, I am. That’s actually what most journalists do, Jungkook. We write.”  

He laughs boyishly, high-pitched and you recall that pleasant sound from the back of your memory. He used to be embarrassed of it when he was younger and often hid his mouth behind his hand to muffle it. You’re glad he doesn’t do that anymore.  

“What’s so funny in that?” You sound slightly irritated, although you’re trying hard to stop yourself from smiling too. It just comes naturally when you’re around him.

He takes a deep breath and then says, “Nothing. I’m just thinking,”  

You raise your eyebrow. “Thinking? About what?”  

“Remember how you’ve always dreamt about becoming a writer when we were teenagers?”  

You nod. That’s still very much your goal. Albeit you’re aware it might as well not come true, sadly. “I do. And what about it?”

Jungkook doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he places his arms behind his head and leans back on the couch with a coy smile. “Maybe you will write my biography one day.” he says after a moment.  

“Only if you pay me shit tons of money for that.”

“Agreed.”  

You find yourself coping his position and slumping on the couch as well. His eyes are closed, and you watch him from the corner of your eye. Despite the dim lighting, he seems glowing in the darkness like a single, silver spot on the noir sky.

“I think I know how would it be called.” you say suddenly.

“Hmm?”  

“Your biography. I came up with the title.” you clarify.

“What is it then?” Jungkook hums with his eyes still closed.

You take a moment to answer, looking up at the blackboard night sky above you. Smiling to yourself, you reply. “I would call it ‘Lost star’.”  

His brows furrow slightly. “Why is that?”  

“That’s my secret for now.”  

“I don’t know. I think this song needs something more.”  

“It’s fine for me, Namjoon-ah. The bridge is great, stop worrying so much. We still have a lot of time before the deadline.”  

“Thanks, hyung. Jungkookie, have you spoke with Hyowon-hyung about your solo?”  

“Kook-ah? We’re talking to you.”  

“Jeon Jungkook!”  

Jungkook looks up from his phone at the sound of Seokjin's harsh voice. He sends his older friend a clueless look. “Hmm?”  

Namjoon sighs. “I asked you a question, Jungkook.”  

Jungkook puts away his phone. “I’m sorry, hyung. I wasn’t listening. Can you repeat it?”  

“Of course you weren’t, you’ve been staring at your phone for the past twenty minutes instead of paying attention to us.” Seokjin scoffs, digging his chopsticks in the kimchi he's eating.  

It’s a little past seven and they are having late dinner at their dorm after a whole day of schedule. Jungkook doesn’t even know what type of commercial they were recording. He just kept reading everything from the monitor behind the camera as he always does, trying to make it seem as unnoticeable as possible.

Truth to be told, Seokjin's right. He hasn’t been paying attention to their conversation, although he definitely should have. Telling them he was texting you this whole time is a pathetic and dumb excuse, he knows that. He doesn’t want them to ask him questions about you. Not yet.

“I asked if you talked to Hyowon-hyung.” Namjoon repeats after a moment.  

A hint of realization crosses Jungkook's face at that. “Yeah, I did. He played me the first draft and told me to work on the lyrics.” he says, reaching for his chopsticks.

Namjoon nods, humming. “Do you want me to help you with that?”  

Jungkook shrugs. “No, you don’t have to. I’m just waiting for the inspiration to kick in.”  

And he hopes it’s going to enlighten him soon. He has a few songs written on his own but creating music for an album it’s different. The standards are higher, expectations bigger. Restricted time always makes him jittery, too.

Taking a mouthful of his bibimpap, a smile flashes across his face. He glances if anyone is looking at him now but his friends are busy talking about something regarding the next release. He reaches for his phone and writes a message to you.  

[7:16pm] me:

do you remember the time when you cooked a bibimpap for my goodbye dinner at home?

Not even a minute later, he receives a response from you.  

[7:16pm] Miss Grumpy:  

yeah I do  

why are you asking me this tho

[7:17pm] me:  

I’m eating it know and it reminded me of that day

sorry but god, it was awful

[7:16pm] Miss Grumpy:  

excuse me????

He remembers probably every second of that day. His mother’s tears, your extremely undercooked meat and his father’s affectionate hug.  

Smiling to himself, he taps another sentences.

[7:18pm] me:  

I couldn’t tell you that. you looked so proud of yourself  

I just ate everything like it was the most delicious course on this planet

best acting of my life  

[7:19pm] Miss Grumpy:

you asshole

i poured my heart into this

you’re right, that was your best acting. definitely better than war of hormone playboy jungkook  

He rolls his eyes. The amount of times you joked about this particular moment of his career is neverending.

[7:19pm] me:  

can you please stop  

[7:20pm] Miss Grumpy:

fuck off. of course I won’t  

how was it?  

ah I know.

I’m a bad boy so I like bad girls

showstopping. truly

He tries to muffle his laughter but there’s no use for that. He snickers under his breath, hoping no one have noticed but he was oh, so wrong. Because as soon as he looks up from the phone screen, all eyes are on him.  

Namjoon clears his throat. “You’re not eight anymore, Jungkook, so I won’t lecture you like a father but please, don’t use your phone while we’re eating.”  

“Who are you texting this passionately anyway? You never put anything before food.” Hoseok adds, frowning.

“My hyung.” Jungkook answers casually.  

In the corner of his eye he sees Taehyung leaning to whisper something in Jimin's ear and they both giggle quietly. Jungkook sends them a glare.

They stop but few seconds later, Taehyung breaks into his signature boxy smile.

“What is this, Taehyung?” Namjoon asks, frowning.

“It looks like our Jungkookie is lying.”  

Jungkook grips the edge of the table tightly. He searches for Jimin's eyes but he looks away quickly, as though almost guilty.  

At the other end of the table, Yoongi puts away his chopsticks and wipes his mouth with a napkin. “Care to elaborate on that, Taehyung-ah?”  

“He isn’t texting his brother. I think Jungkookie might be in love,” he sing-songs, giggling to himself.  

Jungkook’s first instinct is to smack his friend's in the head. And so does he. “What the fuck, Tae?” he snaps.

“Language, kid!” Seokjin says automatically.

“I'm twenty-two!”  

“And I’m twenty seven, so shut your mouth and listen to your elders. What is Taehyung speaking about?”  

Jungkook shakes his head. “I have no idea.”  

“Oh, stop bullshitting us. I looked at your phone screen when it was lying on the table. You don’t call your hyung ‘Miss Grumpy'.” Taehyung says, his fingers doing the quotation mark in the air.

“You’re not supposed to look at my phone! It’s called privacy!” Jungkook exclaims, however it’s pointless. Everyone now is focused on him and you.

“Can someone tell who the fuck is ‘Miss Grumpy’?” Seokjin asks, looking around the table.  

Jungkook runs his hand through his hair in a nervous manner. He screwed up, and now they won’t let him breathe for at least five more days. “Her name is actually ___. She’s my childhood friend from Busan.”  

He hears Taehyung chuckling next to him. “Oh, come on. You can tell us you’re sexting her. We won’t judge.”  

“I’m not!”

“Shut the fuck up, all of you!” Yoongi says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Can’t we for once eat in peace? Jungkook, please, kindly explain us who this girl you’re texting with is.”  

Jungkook pursues his lips. “I told you. She’s just my old friend. Why would I lie to you?”  

Seeing their uneasy expressions, he realises he said the wrong thing. He has lied to them before about many things. It isn’t anything shocking that they doubt his words now. They have all rights to do it.

Namjoon is the first one to break the uncomfortable silence. “Jungkook, you know the rules. We can't freely date like we would like to. I suggest you should end things with this girl, whatever you're both doing, before it escalates into something more serious. Before you hurt her and yourself in the process.” he says.

Hoseok nods at his friend’s words. “Namjoon is right, Jungkookie. Serious relationships are just going to make everything more complicated.”  

Jungkook grits his teeth. “We aren’t dating.” he spats.

“Sleeping together also isn’t a good idea.”  

“We aren’t having sex,” Jungkook's eyes narrow. “Why didn’t you tell the same thing to Yoongi-hyung when he was seeing that blonde girl? He sneaked her into his room one day and I’m pretty sure he wasn’t just playing her his music.” he scowls, shaking his head.

“Hyung's older than you. Besides, he ended things with her some time ago.” Namjoon counters.

“It’s true, Jungkook-ah. Namjoon is right. No matter what you’re doing with her, you should always be careful.” Yoongi adds.  

Something breaks in Jungkook at that. All of the pent-up frustration seems to leave his body at once. “You know what? Fuck off, all of you. I’m not a kid anymore. I can make my own decisions and they are none of your fucking business.” He stands up from the table abruptly.  

“Jungkook, wait. Let’s talk without fighting now,” Namjoon pleads but he isn’t listening to him anymore.  

Jimin, who was silent this whole time, puts his hand on Jungkook's shoulder. “Jungkookie–” he starts but his immadietly cut off by Jungkook's harsh tone.

“Stop calling me that!” Jungkook snaps and walks away, slamming the door to his room behind himself.

There’s a knock to his door an hour after.  

This pattern feels familiar. He messes something up, they give him some space to think and reflect about it on his own and then, it’s time to sit together and discuss it openly almost like a peace treaty. Jungkook says sorry, promises he will be a better person and everyone moves on.

He doesn’t bother getting up until he hears a voice behind the door speak up. “It's Yoongi-hyung. I’m not here to force you to apologize. I just want to talk.”  

Jungkook's brows furrow. He stares at the door, imagining Yoongi standing behind it with his hands in pockets and eyes glued to the ceiling. He debates whether he should open the door and let him in or keep sulking just a little more until the atmosphere will loosen up on its own.

Somehow, his thoughts wander to you. You would probably tell him that communication is the key to solving problems, or something along the lines. That he can’t shut himself from the world because he feels like no one really gets him. You would also call him childish but he doesn’t dwell on that more.

“Jungkook-ah? Please, open the door. I promise I won’t patronize you.”  

He exhales loudly and gets up from the bed. If there’s one person in this house whose words he can trust wholeheartedly, it’s Yoongi. He twists the handle and walks back to his bed.  

The door clicks shut a few moments later, mattress dipping where Yoongi makes a room for himself next to him, clearing his throat.  “Listen,” he begins but Jungkook cuts him off with a scoff.

“I thought you said you wouldn’t give me patronizing ted talks.”  

“Yeah, I did. But I won’t stare at the wall in silence either,” Yoongi says. Few deep breaths later, he continues. “Jihye was a nothing but a good friend to me with whom I had sex sometimes, no strings attached. Until one day I realised our relationship stopped being solemnly based only on physical attraction. That’s why I decided to end things with her.”  

“Did you fall in love with her?” Jungkook asks.  

Yoongi shakes his head. “No, I didn’t. But I could. And that’s what scared me the most.”  

“Why?”  

In the corner of his eye, Jungkook sees him smiling sadly. “It's simple. Because being together would only lead us to heartbreak. I cared about her too much to make her hurt like that due to my selfishness.” he says. “This is the same reason why Jimin didn’t continue his relationship with our make-up noona even after she left the company. And that’s exactly why you shouldn’t get any hard feelings involved with that friend of yours.”  

Jungkook pursues his lips. He understands Yoongi's concerns but his situation is different. Jimin was in love with that woman. He was ready to buy an apartment for them and move out from the dorm. If someone from the company hadn’t found out about their secret relationship, he would have still been sneaking around with her.

Jungkook though, doesn’t have any feelings for you. He’s gone past his silly crush when you were younger a long time ago. Besides, you have a boyfriend and he doesn’t chase after taken women. At least not intentionally.

“She’s just a friend, hyung.” he says finally but it sounds more like he tries to convince himself, not Yoongi.

Yoongi pats him on the shoulder. “I know. Just be careful, okay?” And with that, he leaves Jungkook's room.

Jungkook knew it was a bad idea as soon as he stepped into the club and loud, thumping music filled his ears.

He knew it when he ordered a round of shots and gulped them down one after another. When he found himself in the middle of the crowd of sweaty bodies, head buzzing and arms around a nameless brunette, his tongue between her lips.

And he knows it right now, when he’s sitting in a booth, her ass placed directly over his crotch where he’s already sporting a hard-on. The girl (Eunbi? Or maybe it’s Eunji? He hasn't registered when she shouted it to his ear because he was too busy staring down at her cleavage) grinds herself with eagerness against him and he lets out a groan, leaning to plant kisses on the side of her neck. And in that exact moment, when his chapped lips meet the porcelain skin of her throat, he locks eyes with you.  

(And he’s once again reminded how stupid it was to go to the club where you work.)

After his conversation with Yoongi he felt like he needed to prove something to himself. That he’s not the one to fall in love impulsively, that he can fuck and not get feelings involved. He could have gotten himself drunk in in any other place yet here he is, a random girl straddling him while he blinks his bloodshot eyes at you.

Your gaze trails down from his face to his palms splayed on brunette’s bottom and you scoff to yourself, averting your attention somewhere else. If he’s disappointed, he hides it pretty well, sucking yet another purplish mark on the girl's neck she accepts with another roll of her hips.

Whimpering into his ear, she moves herself faster against his hardness but he doesn’t pay mind to her anymore, not when he catches you looking at him again in the corner of his eye.  

The girl leans to kiss him and he obliges, tongue darting to lick into her mouth but his eyes remain trained on you the whole time. You see him slipping his fingers underneath her skirt and smirking when he feels the evidence of her lust between her thighs. He wants you to watch him making her come undone on his lap, he craves to relish in the sick thrill of having you witnessing what he’s capable of doing. But when he’s about to pull the girl's lingerie to the side, you’re turning away and disappearing from his sight.  

His fingers stay pressed to the flesh of brunette's thighs, unmoving, until she purrs into into his ear. “Oppa, please. Want you so bad.”

Jungkook tsks to himself, rolling his eyes at her saccharine sweet, high-pitched voice. “Not here.” he mutters.  

Minutes later he’s in the club's bathroom, his head thrown back and grunts escaping his lips. He looks down at the mop of her hair as she swallows around his cock, bringing him closer to the release. She peeks at him from between her eyelashes, teary-eyed and already fucked-out.  

He threads his fingers through her hair and pulls hard, until she moans around him. “That’s it, baby. Gonna fuck your mouth now.” He pushes himself deeper, feeling her choke. She welcomes the pain without complaint, tears flowing down her cheeks and palms pressed obediently on his thighs. Jungkook clenches his jaw, focusing on his pleasure until he groans lowly and comes down her throat.  

He pulls away from her mouth, tugging himself back into his pants. She stands up from her kneeling position on wobbly legs and wraps her arms around his neck. “What about me, oppa?” she giggles, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Won’t you fuck me now?”  

He sighs, staring down at her. There are smudges of mascara underneath her eyes, her cheeks are wet with tears and her lipstick is smeared. He reaches with his thumb to wipe it, and she leans into his touch.  

He feels guilty telling her to be quiet and hiking her skirt up. He feels it when she climaxes around his fingers with a cry of his name on her lips. He feels it too even stronger, cleaning her up and leaving to fix her make-up in front of the blurry mirror, but that’s all he can do. That’s everything he can provide.  

Later that night, when he's finally in his own bed, your face flashes behind his eyelids. He's sick of himself, of his actions, that he let his weaknesses got best of him again.  

Before he could even think of it, he types a message to you.  

[3:45am] me:  

I’m sorry. I was drunk and couldn’t think straight  

Few bits of silence later, his phone buzzes.  

[3:47am] Miss Grumpy:  

I know you were  

Did you at least thank her?  

He scoffs to himself, thinking about proper words to answer you but strangely, he recalls your wide eyes transfixed on him and the way you held his challenging gaze when his lips kissed another woman. He’s never seen you looking at him like that before. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t affect you even the slightest.

[3:48am] me:  

don’t worry. she had a good time  

[3:48am] Miss Grumpy:  

goodnight, jungkook  

[3:49am] me:  

sleep tight, ___.

There’s something apprehensive in the perpetual ticking of the clock when it's silent in the room. It almost feels like the sound keeps getting louder and louder as the time passes by, as if it’s expecting a storm to occur and shatter the calm.

“___?”  

You’re brought back to the reality from your thoughts by Minho's voice. He has a questioning look on his face, watching you with raised eyebrows.

“I’m sorry,” you say sheepishly. “I was lost in my thoughts for a moment.”  

“I could see that,” Minho reaches for his tea cup and takes a sip. “Is everything alright?” he asks, but you shake your head with a smile.

“Just university stuff.” you say vaguely and he doesn’t press you about it any further, nodding in understanding.  

Minho left his work earlier today, coming straight to your flat. It’s Wednesday and Wednesdays are dedicated to spending your time together on dates. Today, you’re going to the cinema and to your favourite sushi bar. For the second time this month.

“I’m going to use the bathroom now and then we can head out, okay?”  

You answer him with a nod. Standing up, you gather your cups and place them into the sink but right when you’re about to wash them, you hear Minho's phone buzz with single notification.  

You bite your lip. You know you shouldn’t look but you push it to the back of your head for now, sparing a quick glance at his lockscreen.

Sooyoung: when you will be free next time?  

You frown. You’ve never heard him taking about any woman from his work with a name like this. The message sounds ambiguous but it doesn’t have to mean anything to worry about at the same time. You just have to ask to be sure. That’s what couples do, right? They communicate.

Taking a deep breath, you wait for Minho until he comes back from the bathroom.  

“Are you ready to–”

“Who’s Sooyoung?” you cut him off before you’ll lose your courage and let the anxious thoughts consume you without asking him first.

He furrows his brows but then his eyes land on the phone lying on the table. He pursues his lips. “You’ve been snooping through my phone?”  

“I didn’t have to snoop. I just looked at the screen when you got a notification.” you say as calmly as possible, trying to hide your nerves. “I just thought it’s a little weird that some other woman is asking you when you will be free next time.”  

Minho's eyes narrow. “What are you insinuating?” he asks.  

“I’m not insinuating anything. Just tell me who she is, it’s simple.”  

He looks uneasy, tongueing the inside of his cheek but nevertheless, he’s still as composed as ever, gauging you with tentative expression. “Sooyoung is my friend from work. She’s a new recruit and we go to the shooting range to practice once a week,” he explains. “And before you will ask: we aren’t there all alone. Kihyun accompanies us. So you don’t have to worry about anything. Can we go now, honey?” 

You lower your eyes to the ground, nodding. When you try to move past him, Minho catches your wrist. “Do you have anything more to add?” His voice is stern and you gulp.  

“I'm sorry.” you almost whisper.  

“It’s okay. Just don’t jump into conclusions next time, okay?” he says, hand still wrapped tightly around your hand.  

“Okay.” you repeat and he releases you.  

A smile appears on his face after that, and he cocks his head at you. “Let's go.”  

You exhale a shaky breath you didn’t even know you were holding and follow him.

There are some things in our lives that we cannot predict.  

Like the heavy traffic on the way to work because of the car crash happening somewhere in the city or meeting your ex you’d rather forget about in a shopping mall months after break up.  And when they do happen, we can only confront what the faith has in store for us, no matter how much we resist.

You certainly couldn’t predict that after sending a ‘god I want to get drunk so bad’ message to Jungkook he would actually appear hours later on your doorstep with grocery bags in one hand and pizza box in another, grinning broadly when he saw your genuinely surprised expression.

That’s when the surrealism kicks in, when you’re sitting on the floor of your bedroom, one empty bottle of suju on your account and the second almost drained to the half. When Jungkook is right by your side, tomato sauce on his chin you wipe out for him with a grimace, talking about some dumpling incident that caused a huge fight among his friends.

But no matter how much you try, how much alcohol you pour into your system, you’re unable to fully get rid of the anxious thoughts sitting at the back of your head.

It’s been a while since your argument with Minho and even though you want to believe him, the creeping feeling that something’s off won’t leave you. It’s easy to say to always trust your intuition, but what if it prompts you scenarios you wouldn’t like to become real?  

Jungkook must have sensed that something doesn’t feel right because he stops his rambling mid-sentence, clearing his throat. “Are you even listening to me now, buttercup?” he asks.  

You snap out of your thoughts at that, mustering an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I was but–”

“But you zoned out for a moment,” he finishes. “It’s okay. I know you since we were kids, I can tell when there's something bothering you. It’s all in your eyes.” he says, making you furrow your brows in confusion.

“What’s in my eyes?”  

“They look sad.”  

You shy away from his piercing stare, looking at your lap instead. You’ve always proud yourself that you can read people like an open book. That’s why you can so easily hide your true emotions at bay before the whole world. But if there’s only one person who is capable of seeing through you, it’s Jungkook.  

You can open up to him, you remind yourself. You’re safe, he’s been your friend for such a long time, he won’t hurt you.  

You take a deep breath and say, “Minho and I have some trouble. I mean, it’s nothing serious but he’s been acting weird lately and few days ago we got into a fight, so yeah. I’m just... a little stressed, that’s all.”  

“Should I kick his ass?” he suggests and knowing him, he might as well be serious so you brush it of with a chuckle.

“Maybe not yet.”  

You reach for the empty pizza box between you, putting it to the side. You debate taking another shot of soju but eventually you refuse, placing the bottle next to the carton. You’ve had enough alcohol for tonight anyway.  

“Are you happy with him, ___?” Jungkook asks suddenly, and you feel like all the air in the room has been sucked off.  

You turn to face him, heart rickocheting faster in your ribcage. If you’re truly shocked he’s had an audacity to ask this, you hide it pretty well. Something in your head is telling you that the best defence is attack, so you aim.  

“Are you happy?”  

Your question stirs something in him. You don’t know what you expected but you could never imagine him actually catching the bait and answering you with honesty. Yet he does.

“You know, I’ve been asking myself the same question a lot lately,” he says, smiling lopsidedly. “There are days when I’m the happiest person on this planet, when I feel like I can do everything. But sometimes, when I step down the stage and lights go out, it just gets harder.” There’s a slight crack to his voice at the end and when you look him in the eyes, they’re glassy. “If I knew it could be so lonely, I wouldn’t have signed up for this. Ever.”

Some things in life we are able to predict. We know the road leading to success and accomplishment might be bumpy, yet we cannot truly be prepared for the outcome of all the difficulties we come across along the way. Jungkook was aware of the consequences his popularity may cause in the future, but he simply didn’t think it could be so overwhelming.  

You scoot closer to him, your hand finding his amid your bodies. He looks down and intertwines his fingers with yours with a hint of smile in the corner of his lips. “You have all rights in the world to feel the way you do, Jungkook, remember that. But you’re not alone in this. I’m always here, okay? I’ve been for the past three years and I’m not going anywhere soon.” you say firmly, closing the distance between you.

He accepts your hug with eagerness, wrapping his arms around your frame with desperation, pulling you closer. It’s been so long since you’ve talked like this, since you’ve comforted each other and shared deepest fears.  

Jungkook buries his face in the crook of your neck, where you feel him breathing out shakily. He rests his palms on your back, tracing soothing patterns over the material of your hoodie and that’s when you realise he wasn’t the only one who needed to be held like this, even just for a moment. It’s exactly what you’ve been missing, the sheer intimacy of a simple hug.

“Sometimes I just wish it was different.” he whispers into your hair and you close your eyes, swallowing the lump in your throat.  

“Me too.”  

Somehow, it seems like the most honest thing you’ve said.

Even when you pull away, you’re still mere inches from him. You feel his breath on your skin, his hands travelling from your backside to your hips. Jungkook's eyes are focused on your face but there’s no sadness or melancholy in them now. In his deep brown orbs you recognize something akin to longing.  

And maybe the alcohol running in your veins is deceiving you, but when his gaze drops to your lips, you can’t do anything; you’re paralyzed, barely breathing. It’s electrifying, crawling in your skin. His right palm finds the apple of your cheek, thumb stroking your bottom lip until he releases it and tilts your chin. The moment your eyes meet his comes with realization that maybe you were right - you see the yearning in them. But it’s mixed with desire.

The first touch of his lips on yours feels almost exploratory. He kisses you so softly and carefully you might believe it’s his first kiss, but you know this is only a false inkling. Truth to be told, his experience in this area is incomparable to yours. With the shy press of his lips on yours he’s only testing the waters, sensing if you want to push him away. Yet you don’t.  

You succumb to the way his chapped lips move against yours, like they’ve always belonged there. You want to be as close to him as possible, feel the heat radiating of him on you. Nothing else matters beside you and him right now, the reality outside doesn’t exist as long as you’re in the confines of your small bedroom, lips colliding and rational thoughts gone.

When your fingers almost hesitantly thread into the locks at the back of his head, Jungkook deepens the kiss. Your body is moving on your own accord, knees sinking onto the floor on either sides of his thighs until you’re straddling his lap. You taste the desire on his tongue as he runs it through the seam of your lips, seeking entrance you provide.

His hands find purchase on your hips and when he nips on your bottom lip you let out a silent moan, leaning your forehead on his. “What are we doing?” you whisper, breathing heavily down his flushed cheeks and parted mouth. You’re trying to grasp the meaning behind all of this: of your quickened heartbeat, of the evidence of his desire where you groins meet.

“Something we are going to regret later.” It’s the answer Jungkook gives, connecting your mouths once again in a searing kiss.

Everything seems to crush around you. Erupting volcanoes, cascading waterfalls, tsunamis consuming the land. It’s dangerous, Jungkook thinks to himself, kissing you like that, nibbling on your bottom lip and eliciting a moan. But he can’t help but drown in it.

You’ve never felt quite like this; consumed by the flames of forbidden desire, ready to burn into ashes. Jungkook’s palms shift underneath your hoodie and you’re surprised how warm they feel against your skin, caressing your stomach and underside of your breasts. He’s touching you with ardour, like he doesn’t believe you’re in his arms, like you’re going to disappear the second he lets go of you.

You place sloppy kisses on his cheeks, jawline, down his neck, relishing in the way he seems to be affected by your caresses, tightening his grip on your waist with every press of your lips on his skin. He grasps the hem of your hoodie, looking for any sign of discomfort in your eyes but when you nod your head, he doesn’t hesitate to lift it off you, uncovering your bare cleavage.

Biting your lip, a sudden wave of insecurity washes over you but it quickly vanishes as soon as his palms engulf your breasts almost roughly, thumbs brushing your nipples until the peeks harden under his ministrations and you can’t help but gasp. He trails kisses down your throat, teeth grazing your skin almost feather-like and you know what’s that for. He doesn’t want to live a visible mark there.

In one, swift motion, Jungkook puts his hands underneath your thighs and stands up from the floor, lifting you up with ease and placing gently on your bed. He hovers over your half-naked figure, eyeing you with the carnal hunger that makes your chest raise and fall with heavy intakes of breath, core pulsing with want.  

He takes off his shirt and tosses it somewhere on the floor, and now you understand why all these girl are so drown to him. Jungkook's probably the most good looking man you’ve ever laid eyes on. Everything in him is crafted with perfection, from the prominent outline of his jaw, through the column of his throat and collarbones, to the sculpted expanses of his chest and abdomen.  

Your fingerstips are itching to map every ridge and deep of his body but you remain still, anticipating his next move with rapidly beating heart. Dominance and power radiating of him nearly make you squirm underneath his scrutinizing stare. His dark eyes are telling you to obey him, and you give yourself to him without resistance. You’ve never felt this way, not with anyone. Yet here you are, stripped from the innocence and bared to the pleasure.

Jungkook reaches to the waistband of your leggings, pulling them down and leaving you with nothing but your underwear on. He straddles your thighs, his palm pressed flat to your stomach until he slides it lower, to the dip of your body where you drip with the need of being fucked until you forget your own name.  

The first press of his fingers on your pussy makes your limbs jerk uncontrollably and he smirks at your reaction, seeing the material of your panties dampening with his small, teasing strokes. It’s almost embarrassing how quickly it wounds you up, blame it on your uncontrollable celibacy or maybe something else entirely.

“What do you want me to do, doll?” His question makes you whine, hips raising to feel more of his touch on you but he only chuckles at your apparent eagerness, patting your folds in reprimand.  

“Anything,” you breathe out in response, looking at him with frenzied eyes and hoping he will be merciful to you.

Jungkook tsks, his fingers leaving your cunt and grasping your jaw tightly. “Be a good girl and use your words.”  

You gulp, a humiliating blush reddening your cheeks. You’ve never really been a vocal person during sex, nor were people you had slept with but you can’t deny how much of a turn on is Jungkook's commanding voice.

“Please, Jungkook. Want you to touch me.”  

“Where?” His other hand wanders down your body until he cups your center. “Here?” he asks in a mocking tone, making you nod silently. “You want me to touch your pretty pussy with my fingers?”  

“Yes, please.”  

He grasps your underwear and shruggs it off your legs, smirking when he sees you so affected by his words. He then shoves his index and middle finger into your mouth and watches as you obediently lap your tongue around them, looking at him with hooded eyes.

“Fuck.” he curses, pulling his fingers out of your mouth.  

You look so pliant and submissive lying naked underneath him, so willing to let him do with you whatever he pleases. His cock throbs in his pants at the thought. He’s had girls at his beck and call before but it’s a different kind of lust with you. A strong yearning, consuming him from the inside, a desperation to be as close as two humans being submerged into carnality possibly can be.

Your back arches when his calloused fingers finally make contact with your bare pussy, slipping between your folds to gather the wetness dripping from your hole. You gasp at the feeling of his thumb circling your clit, biting your lip until you taste iron. He easily finds the right way to make you moan, to make your legs shake with want.  

You cry out his name when he pushes the first digit inside. He swears under his breath when he feels your warm walls flattering around him. “M-more,” you whimper, hips lifting of the mattress and seeking friction.

Jungkook smirks at that. “You’re so wet, baby. You like it, don’t you? Such a greedy slut.” You’re mewling at his words, grasping his wrist when he roughly plunges another finger into your cunt and starts shoving them in and out, not sparing even a second to let you adjust to the punishing pace he sets.

He leans his body closer over yours, eyes focused on the way your face writhes in pleasure while his fingers are abusing your pussy. You’re dripping, your arousal coating the his palm and the insides of your thighs. When he sees you reaching to squeeze your breasts, he swears he’s never seen anything sexier than this in his entire life.

“Jungkookie–nghh, please,” You’re a blubbering mess, moaning incoherent sentences. You could sense your orgasm approaching, you’re feeling it warming your body from the tip of your toes all the way to your core where you’re gushing around his long fingers.  

“Come on, doll. Be a good girl and cum for me.” Jungkook murmurs. With his words and his thumb flicking your bundle of nerves with practiced ease, you’re pushed over the edge, tears spilling from your eyes and coating your cheeks. He watches with parted mouth as you come with his name on your lips, your velvet walls deliciously tightening around his digits. He gives you a moment to ride out your high, stroking your side with his palm soothingly.  

Pulling out his fingers, he places them in his mouth, humming lowly at the taste of your arousal on his tongue. He wants nothing more than bury his face between your thighs and lick you clean but right now, he needs to fuck you.  

He stands up from the bed, taking off his pants and boxers along with socks and catches you peeking at him from the corner of your eye. Your chest is rising with laboured breaths, lips swollen from the way you’ve been biting them to stop yourself from letting out any loud noises that could potentially be heard through the thin walls of your apartment.  

He digs one knee on the mattress, his other hand wrapped around his thick cock. You lick your lips at the sight, nails digging crescent moons into your palms.

“On your fours, baby.” Jungkook commands and you oblige with flushed cheeks, maneuvering your body onto your hands and knees. You feel him behind you, his palms stroking the skin of your bare ass. A sick thrill runs through your body at the prospect of being taken in such a humiliating position.  

Groaning, Jungkook rubs the mushroom head of his cock through your folds, collecting the juices spilling out of you. That’s when you come back to your senses and your whole body stiffens. “Wait,” you call out, making him pause. “We need a condom.”  

“I’m clean. Besides, I never fuck anyone else without protection.”  

“Fine, just–” Closing your eyes, you release a shaky breath. “–you need to pull out, okay?”  

Jungkook leans over your body, placing a kiss on your shoulder blade. “Relax, ___. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.” With one hand on your waist and the other on your hip, he positions the tip of his cock at your entrance and pushes agonizingly slow inside, making you moan at the stretch. You’re grasping the sheets underneath between your fingers, knees threatening to give away after another measured stroke that leaves your heat pulsating.

“Fuck, you’re so tight. When was the last time he fucked you?” he grunts, digging his fingers into your flesh. At the mention of Minho, your body tenses. You breath heavily, trying to push the unwelcomed thoughts aside.  

“A m-month ago?” you utter, recalling the last time you had sex. Or rather when you sucked him off and he didn’t bother reciprocating the favor.  

Jungkook shoves his cock deeper, scoffing to himself. “His stupid for not appreciating this enough.”  

You bite your lip, focusing on the feeling of him inside you. His words sound affectionate, too affectionate for your liking and you don’t want to think about this moment like it means more than what it is. Your hands tremble and lose balance when he fucks into you harder, until he’s filling you to the brim. You’ve never felt so deliciously full. A few bits of ragged breaths later, you mumble, ‘’You can move.”

He tightens his grip on you, bottoming out. He sets a steady pace, fucking you slowly but deeply, making you cry out into the pillow at the sensation of his cock dragging through your walls, making sure you feel every inch of him. “You feel so good, doll. So wet and tight. I’m gonna make a mess of your pretty pussy.” he says lowly.

The sounds of skin slapping against skin echo through the room with the promise of merciless fucking. Jungkook is relentless, pounding into you faster and faster, like he wants to ruin you, imprint himself on your body to make you remember how easily you can give into vulnerability. His hand slips underneath you and he lifts your upper body up, pressing your back into his chest. The new found angle causes him to hit the spot inside you that has you putty in his arms.

“Don’t–nghhh–stop, fuck!”  

He grunts into your ear in response, sweaty bangs ticking the side of your neck. He sneaks his other hand around your throat and you gulp. “Is this okay?” You hear him whispering and you’re nodding, tears gathering in your eyes from the immense pleasure he is bringing to you with every snap of his hips that threatens to make you lose it on his cock.

His fingers apply a slight pressure against your neck, enough to make you lightheaded with unfamiliar yet ecstatic feeling. He overwhelms you in every way possible and you’ve never felt like this; so powerless yet alive at the same time.  

Jungkook releases the grip on your throat but he’s hand still remains there as if in warning. “Look at you, taking my cock in your slutty cunt. You’re close, aren’t you? Gonna cum all over me?” he growls, fingers rubbing your clit in fast circles until tears are spilling down your cheeks and you’re keening.

“God–yes, fuck! Please, I want to cum so bad.” you whimper, squeezing your eyes shut. You’re on cloud nine, trembling in his arms. He tightens his hold on your throat again and with one last, final flick of his digits on your pussy you’re reaching your second orgasm this night.  

Jungkook releases his hold on you, helping you lay down on your back after riding out your high to the brick of oversensitivity. His palm caresses the length of your body soothingly, calming you down. You’re eyes are still closed when he bends and kisses you. Surprised by his sudden gentleness, your breath hitches in your throat. He coaxes a small moan out of you when you finally relax, wrapping your arms around his neck blindingly and pulling him close.  

You break away the kiss, feeling his stiff length pressing into your stomach. His cock is covered in your slick, thick and hard against his toned abdomen. Biting your lip, you sit up and enclose your fingers around his sex. Looking up, you're met with his dark orbs watching your movements. With his raven hair falling down on his face and sweaty chest, Jungkook looks painfully beautiful.

He lets out a hiss when you lean down and take him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around his velvet tip. “Fuck, just like that.” he murmurs. Gathering your hair in his hand, he makes a makeshift ponytail and stares down at you bringing him closer and closer to the edge with every drag of your pink muscle on his cock.  

Feeling him twitch in your mouth, you take him deeper, ignoring the ache in your jaw. “Gonna cum.” Jungkook grunts and moments later he releases his seed down your throat. You swallow the bitterness of his arousal, lapping your tongue around his tip until he pulls out of you, wincing with oversensitivity.

Silence takes over the room. You don't dare looking at him, staring at your naked lap instead, thoughts screaming in your head. You know you’re going to feel the aftermath of your rough fucking tomorrow, and it won’t be only physical pain. You sit up, ready to go to the bathroom but a hand on your wrist stops you.

“Wait, I’ll do it.” Jungkook murmurs and you nod absentmindedly.

He gets up from the bed and disappears in the bathroom. Unsure of what to do, you force your muscles to move, sitting at the edge of the bed. Jungkook comes back a minute later, carrying a dump towel.

Your head drops to the ground immadietly. He kneels before you and you desperately avoid his eyes. You notice he’s put on his boxers already and now he’s cleaning you gently off, removing evidences of your sins from your skin. You will take a shower later, the water will wash you off from each other’s scents and lingering touches. Love bites will soon disappear, bruises on your hips fade. Yet the scars you left on your hearts won’t heal that easily.

Jungkook puts his hand on your knee and you bite your bottom lip. He takes your hoodie lying on the floor and puts on your naked, marked body. Your heart clenches in your chest at the simple gesture.

“___,” he calls your name. At that, you finally look up at him. He seems worried, you must tell, millions of thoughts crossing his mind at the moment as well as yours. “Let’s go to sleep for now, okay? We will talk about this in the morning.”  

You don’t say anything, nodding at his words. You crawl onto the bed, trying to create as much distance as possible between your bodies but it’s pointless. You feel his breath on your neck and you're sure his itching to hold you, but he doesn’t know if he should, so he stays mere inches from you, until you both eventually fall asleep.

Jungkook wakes up hours later with a raging headache. He grunts to himself, rubbing his face with grimace and making another meaningless promise about drinking less alcohol. When he open his eyes, he realises he’s staring at the fluorescent stars attached to the ceiling. Your ceiling.

When he turns his head to the left, he finds the other side of the bed empty. It’s almost bright in the room, which means he’s stayed overnight again. And he didn’t do just that.  

Bits of memories flash behind his eyelids: him coming to your flat to hang out, your conversation, the kiss that led to naked bodies and breathy moans. He fucked up royally this time.  

Throwing the comforter off his body, he feels a sudden rush of coldness raising goosebumps on his skin. Frowning, he picks up his discarded clothes from the floor and starts putting them on. The door to your bedroom are cracked open, just like you haven’t closed them to not wake him up.  

Jungkook raises from the bed once he’s fully dressed, and pushes the door. He finds you standing by the fully opened window in your kitchen, staring outside.

He understands now why there was so cold before. The fluffy, blueish robe wrapped around your body is probably doing little job at providing warmth, but you don’t seem to mind it at all. You don’t see him yet, your back facing him until he takes another step and the floor creaks underneath his weight.  

He sees your shoulders raising and falling, as if you’ve just let out a sigh. Then, you turn around cautiously, a greish puffs of smoke swirling over your features. Jungkook raises a brow.

“I thought you said you had quit.” It’s the first thing he says, his voice still groggy from sleeping.

You shrug at that, averting your gaze to the view behind your opened window again. “I always smoke after making a bad decision.”  

It sounds bitter coming from you. A testament of your recklessness and weak hearts. He could read the regret straight from your face. It’s all in your posture: you look broken. And he is the reason why you’re hurting. The guilt is almost eating him up from the inside. He needs to try fixing this before you will push him away and he’ll lose you again.

“I think we should forget about that.” you speak after a moment of silence, still refusing to meet his eyes. Your voice trembles and he feels it stabbing him right in the middle of his chest, depriving him of hope to make things good between you. “It’ll be for the better for of us if we act like nothing ever happened. We got drunk, we let our emotions get the best of us. That’s all.”  

You and him both know it wasn’t just  alcohol which made you let him touch you like that, fuck your worries away for a few bits of pleasant oblivion. It meant so much more but you’re too afraid to confront this. You aren’t ready yet.

When you close the window and finally look at him, Jungkook's shoulders are slouched. Defeated. Something aches in your heart at that. “I’m sorry. For everything,” he tells you. He’s clenching his fists by his sides and you know he’s hurting too, more than he could ever let anybody realize. “I should get going then.”  

He exits the kitchen with one last, small smile reserved only for you. You didn't mean to handle the situation like that, like you’re quickly ripping off the band-aid, but you couldn’t think of a better way. Closing your eyes, you let your emotions decide once again. “Wait,” you call out after him, stepping into the hallway. “Maybe you will stay for breakfast.” you propose and Jungkook shakes his head.

“No. It’s okay. I don’t want to keep you busy.” he says, putting on his jacket. Reaching for the handle, he turns to you and smiles. “Take care, ___.” When the door close behind him, you let out a long exhale.  

What Jeon Jungkook couldn’t predict, is that he will be the one doing walk of shame out of your flat.

[tarithenurse]

Spark - 13

Fandom: Enn Enn no Shouboutai / Fire Force. Pairing: Shinmon Benimaru x fem!reader. Content: Awkwardness, sexual tension, nudity. Y’know ;) A/N: Feel free to ASK (or reblog) for tag – in fact: always reblog. Thanks to those who have already <3

13. Seared

...   Reader   ...

Your body is aching both from the sparring a few days ago as well as the tossing and turning from this night. Something has changed but it’s impossible to identify what – all you know is that people seem more nervous. Serious. More than once, you’ve walked in on Konro and Shinmon whispering and then stopping abruptly when noticing you...and you don’t know why. No one tells you what’s going on. It’s no wonder this night has been sleepless when you’re occupying your mind with worst case scenarios. Finally giving up on rest, you get up and head for the showers. Maybe it’ll help wash away the worries and if not it’ll at least loosen up the tense muscles.

...   Benimaru   ...

Mmmmrrr...too early...Benimaru slings a towel over the bare shoulder and rubs the sleep out of his eyes. Wanna sleeeep. But he can’t today. Today he has to get up early to get the new watch plan working: no one is going to enter Asakusa without either him or Konro knowing.

Still half asleep, he stumbles to the nearest showers, confident that he’s the only one who’s up at the crack of dawn.

Warm, humid air engulfs him when he open the door, and it takes a moment longer before realization hits that someone else is in fact awake. Only a single lantern is lit to light the room. Standing on a bench next to a pile of mix-match clothes it illuminates the vapour in the air and casts a warm glow on [Y/N] standing under the running water. Drops sparkle like stars on the wet skin as they gather to form a waterfall along the spine, down between the buttocks, and finally splash between the feet – feet that are much daintier than the guys’ stinky ones after a day inside the heavy boots.

Benimaru is awake. Very awake, although the situation seems surreal enough to be a dream. I shouldn’t be here. He manages to suppress a confused groan. I shouldn’t watch...I should leave. Backing out the way he arrived, the captain struggles to think of a way he can forget what he saw or apologize for walking in on her – mainly because he’s got a nagging feeling that she’ll tear his head off if or when she finds out...but also because...because...

Damnit. Back in his own room already, he grumbles at himself for not going all the way to the men’s showers. How could I know? No one’s awake at this time normally?! It’s not the first time, the women’s shower has been put to use by either Benimaru or any of the other guys...but of course things has changed now there actually is a woman around (the twins don’t count and they’re normally noisy during bath time anyways).

Still, the curves and slopes of [Y/N]’s body in the shower is burned into his mind’s eye. Calloused fingers tug at his strands of black hair. Perhaps it’s an attempt to get the brain working, perhaps it’s instead of tugging at something else because Benimaru is becoming aware of a steadily growing issue. Nonono, not like this! Not...not her.

She’s smart, or rather streetwise, and has a tenacity and fearlessness rivalling that of the best of his men who (by the way) all have been charmed by her almost since day one. And she’s infuriating, stubborn, kind, gorgeous and...Benimaru falters, painfully aware of the row of complimenting adjectives he would use about the woman.

“And I promised to protect her,” he sighs. Not fall for her.

...  Reader   ...

“Konro,” you mutter nervously to the guy, “what’s going on?”

You can sense his chuckle more than actually hear it over the hubbub of the street where vendors are busy trying to keep up with their customers’ demands. “Haven’t you been listening? They’ll help keep you safe.”

Glancing back at the district’s oldest citizen, you can’t help but wonder what the ancient woman can do to ensure no one will come for you.

“That’s...nice.”

She’s the fourth person to conspiratorially whisper to you, transforming a simple shopping trip into a test of paranoia versus cold reasoning. And yes, you have been listening. You listened already the first time Benimaru announced you were going to enjoy the protection of Company Seven’s base whether you liked it or not...you just hadn’t believed him and, oh boy, had that taught you a lesson! Whenever he appears behind you, there’s a brief tension at the base of your skull.

“Why, though? They don’t know me.”

Konro glances over before returning his attention to the oranges. “Because Beni’s told them to.”

Pfft. “They do everything he says?”

“I rarely tell them to do anything,” a drawl comes from behind you, “but now you mention it...you’re the first one to ignore me and look what that brought you.”

A fucking headache. Twice. “So you’re saying you’re not always a pain?”

You haven’t turned, preferring to help Konro on the hunt for ripe fruits instead, but you know he’s rolling his eyes under the tussled hair. I should probably be nicer to him. After all, he’s the reason you’ve not in a lab somewhere, locked up until there’s nothing left to use.

“[Y/N]...” Shinmon sighs with a note of defeat.

“Benimaru,” you reiterate, finally turning and almost bumping into him due to the unexpected proximity, “I get that you’ve g-”

“We need to talk.”

The severity in his tone silences you. I’m in trouble? It wouldn’t exactly surprise you. Stumped by the captain’s intensity, you don’t even object as he grabs you by the hand and leads you back to Company Seven’s station.

The air is cold against your skin as he lets go, snatching his hand back as if he’d barely been able to stand touching you this long – not unlike how you should be feeling yourself. Your hand hovers momentarily where he’s left it in midair as you gather your wits enough to kick off the shoes (no longer stolen, but payed for with both money and an apology for your actions).

Even if Benimaru has let go of you, you still follow quietly into the kitchen. Leaning against the counter, you fold your arms to keep your hands from reaching out until you know for certain that you’re completely in control once more.