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ramp-it-up · 3 years

Text

The One

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warmings: 18+, Minors DNI. Curate your own experience. Cursing, drinking, running, a raging argument in an established relationship, name calling, taunting, drunken raging, Twitter. SMUT, explicit, rough sex, fingering, tit slapping, orgasm denial, spitting, oral sex (mostly female receiving). Also, I’m sleepy. 😴

A/N: Not proofread. Also, I know very little about Chris and Jenny, and have no real opinion about their relationship. I made up the scenario about what happened there for the purposes of the story. THANKS FOR 400 FOLLOWERS TONIGHT! 🥳🎉🎊🍾👏🏽🎈

This fic is based on the following ask:

Anonymous asked:

Imagine idea :

Chris is drunk after a fight with the reader. He was On Twitter and saw some pics with Jenny and when the reader comes in he screams at her and says that Jenny was the one and not the reader. The reader get sad because she was always kind of insecure about the age gap with Chris. The day after he didn’t know what he says and she don’t say anything because she got the feeling that he was right. But one thing both didn’t noticed that Chris was drunk calling Scott and he knows everything Chris says and drive to Chris to give him a good clamp ahahhaha Chris was drunk and Just mentioned her name because he saw a post with Jenny.

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

It had been the perfect day.

You slept in, then had a late brunch at home.

You saw a message from Chris’ former co-star, Heidi, light up his phone that he’d plugged in on the kitchen counter when you two were tidying up.

You wondered why he was texting the bitch even after you told him that she wanted him. And after he agreed to cut off contact out of respect for you.

Heated, you didn’t even look around before you picked it up, put in his code and read a string of friendly, if not borderline flirty, texts.

Chris walked in the kitchen, caught you, and yelled at you for being in his phone.

“What the hell is going on?”

“Exactly! What is going on, Chris. I thought we talked about this?”

Chris rolled his eyes. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Oh, it’s a big fucking deal.”

You threw his phone on the marble countertop, which caused Chris to pick it up to see if it was cracked. Your temper was too much.

“We’re just friends! She knows we’re together, y/n!”

You rolled your eyes.

“And I know women, Chris. That doesn’t fucking matter to her. Sometimes you’re so oblivious. Or act like you are.” You huffed and rolled your eyes.

“I know you want to leave me for someone more glamorous and beautiful. Someone who will put up with your shit, everyone the media says you’re fucking. Go ahead and just do it!”

Chris’s temper was really rising now. You could tell as the red creeped up his chest to his neck.

“Stop fucking saying that!” Chris was screaming now. “Is that what you want? To end it? Because you don’t have to make me do it. If you want to leave, just leave.”

You said shit like that a lot. And it scared and angered him. He wanted to know if you were trying to make him break up with you so you would be free.

“Why are you being such a fucking…” Chris stopped himself. He knew better than to call you out of your name.

Your head almost spun around. You smiled evilly.

“Go ahead, say what you wanna say, Chris. Or are you scared?”

Chris exploded. “A fucking BITCH.” He was shaking because you went there.

“How many times do I have to tell you, I’m not fucking anyone else!”

Chris lost it and punched the wall, making a hole in the drywall and definitely injuring his hand.

You just stood there with your mouth open and in silence. You went toward him to look at his hand, and he just put both of them up, backing away from you and going to the liquor cabinet.

He retreated to the deck with a bottle of Jameson’s. He wanted to dull the pain, in his hand, and in his heart. He hated when you hurt each other.

You understood that you both crossed the line, so you let him be. You went upstairs to change into your running clothes to get out and clear your head.

Chris settled on a deck lounger, started drinking from the bottle and got online, which is never a good thing, but he needed something to distract him. He started reading tweets about himself, and following a thread of Chris + Jenny stans.

The more he drank, the more he started reminiscing.

There were good times. He was happy. Mostly. He thought she was the one. Sometimes. But she broke his heart. He was just a rebound.

Her handsome arm candy.

Then he thought of you. His heart melted; you really loved him. He was sure of it. But loving him was hard. He realized that you felt the same way about him that he felt about Jenny. Always waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Insecure.

And you had good reason to be. Everything you’d said about women coming after him was true. But what you didn’t realize is that since he’d met you other women didn’t matter to him.

You were the one, not Jenny.

Chris began to get melancholy. He’d fucked up. You were nothing but good to him and you just asked him to respect you and listen to your feelings. He’d ignored that.

Shit, why did he yell at you like that?

He went to erase Heidi’s contact and block her number. He was confident that you were never going to throw him away like Jenny did. She was the one who’d hurt him. Not you. Never you. He recognized that you wouldn’t ever hurt him on purpose.

His mind was racing with how to apologize when you came back. He was an idiot. The pain in his heart was replaced with regret and his hand had slowed to a dull throb.

But then 30 minutes turned to 3 hours, and by the time you got back, the bottle was empty and Chris’s eyes were red with rage and worry.

Maybe you were just like Jenny after all.

--------

You ran, and then went to get some coffee. You ran into Shelby at the cafe and distracted yourself with mindless chatter, then walked back. You were ready to apologize by the time you opened the door.

When he heard the door, Chris picked up his phone and met you in the living room. He was obviously shitfaced.

“WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN!?”

Chris’s voice boomed throughout the house and you jumped. Then you just stood there, shocked at his outburst.

“The hell are you talking to me like that?”

He was unsteady on his feet. He leaned toward you, and you could tell that someone was spinning the room for him.

“I don’t want it to be you!”

He had to let you know that he knew that you wouldn’t be the one to hurt him. Chris pointed his phone at you.

“You’re not the one. Jenny’s the only one. Not you! Not ever you!”

You couldn’t believe your ears. But then again you could. It was what you were afraid of. You were head over heels. And Chris could find someone on his level. Like Jenny.

“Well, Fuck You very much, Chris.”

You brushed your tears away and ran past him up the stairs to the bedroom, locking the door and crying your eyes out. You got out your suitcase.

----

Chris started up after you, calling your name, and then suddenly needed to duck in the downstairs bathroom to throw up.

He tried to make it up the stairs and had to sit down on the floor near the bottom. Then, he needed to lay down just for a minute.

The next thing Chris knew, it was morning, and he woke up to a pounding on the door and in his head. He rolled over on the floor, and something stabbed him in the side.

Groaning, he reached down and saw your keys to his house, his cars, and his life, all on the Tiffany heart keychain he’d given them to you. He was staring at them, confused, when Scott opened the door with his key.

“There he is. My brother. The fuck up.”

Chris groaned again, sat up on the bottom stair and held his head.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Nevermind me. It’s not often I get to say that, only when you publish your dick pic to the internet or you RUN OFF THE BEST THING THAT’S EVER HAPPENED TO YOU!”

Chris winced when Scott yelled, his head a pounding mass of meat wrapped in fuzzy cotton.

He didn’t understand why he was being tortured and he didn’t understand why his hand hurt. He looked at it, all bruised up, and the keys inside it.

“Just tell me, Scott. Why are you here?”

Scott leaned up against the door.

“Did you know you drunk dialed me last night?”

Chris looked up at Scott, and his face was a sight as his brother told him what he’d said to you.

“Fuuuuuck me!” He put his head in his hands again.

“I don’t know if she ever will again,” Scott joked, but Chris didn’t laugh.

“I called her after you apparently passed out and wouldn't pick up your phone. She was ready to catch an early morning flight, but I convinced her to sleep in today and leave tomorrow.”

Chris moved his hands down from his eyes and stared out the patio doors, trying to think.

“I put her up in the Four Seasons, on your dime of course. Room 6145. Penthouse. Could be pretty romantic. If she were in that kind of mood.”

Chris looked up at Scott, smiled weakly, jumped up and hugged him, then made for the door. Scott jumped in front of him.

“Trust me, you’ll want to get some water and coffee in you, and shower and brush your teeth. You look and smell like shit.”

“Right.” Chris nodded, flexing his hand. He could still move it. He was glad it wasn’t broken. “Thanks, bro.”

“No problem.” Scott walked into the bathroom as Chris went to the kitchen, groaning when he saw the hole in the wall. He’d have to ask Scott to get it fixed before you saw it again.

If he could convince you to come back.

----

It was 11 am, and Scott had verified that you were still in the room. Chris just stood there, nervous and terrified that you were just going to be done with him.

Room service came and headed toward your door. Chris waved them down and when they saw his face, they stopped in their tracks, shocked.

“Hey, can you do me a favor?”

----

You climbed out of the wonderful deep jetted tub, having soaked until the water got cold and your fingers were wrinkled. You pulled on the plush Four Seasons terry cloth robe that was provided with the suite.

You felt calmer than last night, and after some sleep and relaxation, you realized that you’d been a fool to think that Chris would want you forever like you thought.

It was for the best that you leave and start over, to focus on your consulting business and yourself for a while.

You opened the door with a smile on your face for the attendant, and you let them into the room, your back turned to the door while they brought the cart in. You turned back around and there was Chris.

You grew heated, and your heart began to race while the attendant scurried out. Chris’s face was a welcome sight, but you were still angry.

There you were, looking so beautiful, curls tied up in your favorite silk scarf, cocoa skin radiant in a white fluffy robe. You should have been comfortable, but your eyes were wide and scared.

He’d done this to you.

“Fuck, y/n… I…”

You interrupted him.

“You’ve got some mutha fuckin nerve. How dare you just run up in here, using that fucking face,” you flung your hand up, “using who you are to get into my room. How did you even know where…?”

Your mouth dropped open at the realization of what Scott had done. You turned on your heel to get your things. You didn’t care that you were naked under your robe. You didn’t care that you still loved Chris. You were out. This second.

Chris moved to block you from entering the bedroom of the suite. You tried to push past him, all 5’ 4” of you versus 6 feet of him.

“Move, Chris!”

You glared up at him, your body responding to him in ways you weren’t prepared to admit. You were betrayed by your pussy.

“I just want you to listen to me. Then you can leave, stay, do whatever you want. Just hear me out.”

You and him physically was always the shit. His arms across his chest did things to you But you kept mean mugging him, making him hard for you.

You stepped back and said, “Okay. You have 10 minutes. Then I’m out, Chris.”

You paced back to the couch in the living room of the suite, watching him warily.

Chris paced in front of you, making it inevitable that you follow his lean form back and forth across the carpet. You noticed that his hand was bandaged and that he kept flexing it.

You hoped it wasn’t broken. No matter what, you cared what happened to him. You would always love him. Even if it was the end of your relationship.

“First of all, I’m sorry. My anger got the best of me, and I was violent and that is never acceptable. Even though I didn’t touch you, it’s not ok, and I know it was intimidating. I take responsibility.”

He stopped and looked at you, you melted a little, but you didn’t give any outward sign. Being a business owner taught you a mean poker face.

But the shirt he was wearing made his true blue eyes pop and you could see a hint of his chain around his neck under the fitted henley.

You suppressed a shiver at the memory of the things you did to have that chain and medallion wave in your face, to have it clenched between your teeth as Chris had his way with you, and you with him.

You focused on him, pointedly looking at your watch. Chris’ anxiety peaked when he saw that.

He stepped toward you and thought that he recognized the look in your eyes. He was almost sure that you still wanted him, sure that you still cared. He could only hope as he came closer.

“And then I started drinking. And while you were gone, I came across some posts about me and Jenny. And it took me back there.”

At those words, you crossed your arms and averted your eyes, defenses up. You didn’t want to hear about how much he loved Jenny.

Then, Chris swiftly moved to sit on his haunches, becoming eye level with you.

“And I realized that she never really loved me. Not like you loved me.”

Chris speaking about your love in the past tense made you a little angry and you stared him in the eyes.

It was just the reaction he hoped for. Your attitude. He loved it. He hid a smirk so that he could continue, but you saw the glimmer in his eyes. And you rolled yours.

Chris then picked up the sash to your robe and started playing with it, your eyes drawn to his thick fingers. You didn’t know why that was getting you hot, but it was. You opened your mouth to breathe.

Chris’s voice cracked when he said. “And to me she was the mountaintop. Another, different kind of conquest. But I realized that I never really loved her. Not like I love you.”

Present tense.

Now you were looking into his eyes, about to fall into them. Shit. He had you hooked. But then you remembered, and drew back.

“Yeah, I know what I said, but what I was trying to express was that I know it could never be you to hurt me like Jenny did. That I didn’t want you to hurt me like she did. Not when I’ve thought about forever…”

He moved even closer. “I mean forever, forever, with you.”

All of a sudden you couldn’t breathe. Chris got on his knees.

“I want to be in this position again with you one day. One day soon. But not like this. I don’t want it to be to try to get you back. I want us to be good.”

He sighed, pensive. “I want you to be smiling and happy, and even have our families there.”

You don’t know how your face looked at that moment, but Chris started smiling at you. You were so beautiful to him right now.

“I was drunk, and I couldn’t use my words correctly. I yelled and I screamed and I punched the wall. I fucked up and may have lost you forever, but I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry.”

You felt yourself get emotional, but you tried to calm down.

“I’m just so fucking scared that you will get tired of all the bullshit that comes with me and leave… and I absolutely wouldn’t blame you. But there’s no one else, y/n. No one else can compare…”

“Chris…”

You raised your hand to his face, eyes searching his. You could tell he was being honest.

Chris grabbed your hand and started kissing your palm.

“So.” He looked at you with those eyes. “Is this goodbye?…” His lips were giving you shivers. “Or hello again? Can we start over?”

Chris trailed his lips from your palm, to the pulse point at your wrists and lingered there, licking the delicate skin. Then he moved up your arm to the opening in the robe.

He pushed his torso in between your legs and leaned into your neck, inhaling the lavender bath oil that was your favorite. And his, too.

He moaned as you leaned your head to the side, giving him access. But he didn't just want the physical. He breathed into the shell of your ear.

“Please come home, baby…”

You just moaned as he started sucking right below your ear, your spot. Desire took over for Chris when he heard your sounds.

“Fuck it. I can tell that you still want me. If this is goodbye, then I’m going to make it worth your time.”

Your back arched and Chris palmed your bounteous ass over the robe, pulling you flush to his crotch. He smiled as he felt the warmth coming from you.

“You’re so fucking warm, babe. Are you wet, too? Are you wet for me? Do you want my cock? I mean, do you want your thick, fat, cock to fuck you babe?”

Chris was kissing down your neck into the cleavage that the robe was revealing with each sentence as you opened your legs. Your pussy was quivering for him, but you still didn’t answer him.

Chris looked up at you with those eyes and pulled on the robe sash. It fell open and he looked down and bit his lip, taking in your warm skin, lovely breasts, and elegant pussy, with the manicured triangle of hair kept like he preferred, and offered up for his taking.

You still looked like his girl, and he smiled as he looked up into your eyes. But he had to be certain. He lowered his head, keeping eye contact and descended toward one small hard mountain peak, kissing it gently, tentatively, while watching you.

You were mesmerized as his tongue peeked out and licked it, then he opened his lips and enveloped it, moistening it with his pink lips.

The look on your face compelled him, and he fully enveloped your nipple and started sucking roughly, still keeping eye contact. You were determined not to close your eyes, but it was difficult. You bit your lip to stay still.

Chris’s bandaged hand was dangerous, however, and it came up to pinch and roll your other nipple. You arched into his hand as he became rougher and rougher.

He switched nipples and hands and his saliva made your breast that much more pliable and sensitive. He slapped it, and then rubbed it with the rough bandage, making you cry out and moan as his other hand trailed down your body to your cunt.

“This pussy will still be mine, even if you leave me.” He smiled cockily while looking down on it.

He looked at you, before lifting his hand to his mouth, looking straight into your eyes and spitting on his fingers before bringing them down to your cunt.

“I think, that if even if you leave and move back to Houston, and I come to town, that if I I call you, even if you’re with someone else, you would meet me in a parking lot and let me fuck you over the hood of my rental car.”

He was faintly tracing your pussy lips and instantly your control was gone. You were sopping wet, because of his words and because of the knowledge that what he was saying was the truth.

“Oh,” was all you could say. You were adding to the wetness of the saliva on his fingers.

Chris smiled and tilted his head as his two thick digits breached your opening. He had his answer as you threw your head back and let him finger fuck you while he rolled and slapped and pinched your nipple.

His thumb was lightly brushing your clit and you wanted so much more. Chris could sense that and he pressed down roughly on it, causing an electric jolt up your body, which you keened for, arching your body into his hand.

Chris moved his hand from your breast to your neck and applied the pressure that you wanted and needed and that he was expert at while he stuffed another finger inside you and circled your clit with his thumb.

You floated among the clouds as you came like fireworks, and all over his hand.

He watched you come undone, and come down, rubbing his hard cock through his pants with one hand while he sucked your juices off his fingers, releasing each with a loud pop. When you opened your eyes, you smiled.

You pulled his hand and started licking yourself off him, flattening your tongue against his palm.

“I forgive you Chris. I forgave you when you conned your way into my room, you ass.”

You smiled against his hand as he groaned, relieved and desperate for you.

“But you still have some work to do.”

“What do you want? Anything.”

Now Chris was breathless, anticipating payback.

“First, you need to take those damn clothes off.”

He quickly moved to take off his shirt, and then stood up to take off his pants. You smirked as hs cock sprang up immediately when he peeled them down. He wasn’t wearing underwear.

Chris caught your look.

“What? I wanted to be prepared.” He chuckled softly while pumping his cock lightly, expecting to immediately fuck you.

He moved toward you. But you quickly moved off the couch and into the bedroom, forcing him to follow you, and his dick, into the other room.

You sat on the edge of the bed as he remained standing.

“What do you need, babe?”

You reached for his cock and tugged it toward you, opening your mouth and deep throating it, wetting it from root to tip and then spit on it. Chris moaned as you started to stroke. Then you stopped.

“I need you to jack off for me.”

“Ugh! You’re so fucking nasty. I love you.”

Chris instantly started where you left off. This didn’t seem like work.

You leaned back on your elbows, watching him, and licking your lips.

“And I need for you not to stop, and not to come. Until I tell you.”

You looked him in the eye and that was when Chris knew he was doomed. A chill ran down his spine as you reached down and started playing with your pussy.

“Fuck!”

You looked so damn good. He licked his lips and stroked harder and faster, his balls drawing up already.

“Shit, y/n.”

You watched his eyes, and got wetter at his blown pupils and glazed look.

“You like that?”

“Fuck yeah.”

His voice was broken and desperate. He fisted his cock, and held his balls, trying to stave off the inevitable.

You turned around, got on your knees and reached back between your legs and ran your fingers up and down your slit.

“How about that?”

“Goddamnit!”

Chris grunted as he tried to hold it in. You were a goddess. He licked his lips. Wanting to taste you. So he did.

He dove in, tongue competing with your fingers to command your slit. You finally gave in to his expert mouth and he savored your salty goodness.

“Fuck, Chris, you better still be…”

“I am. Christ.”

He was leaking in his hand, but he had it under control. Barely.

Chris stopped eating you out for a second, grabbed your ass cheek with one hand, stretched you open, spit on your tighter hole, and watched it slide down your satin lips to drip onto the bed.

His warm saliva made your pussy quiver and he watched it lovingly. Then he dove in again.

He sped up his movements with his other hand and you could hear the smooth skin of his dick sliding on his palm while his tongue did forbidden things to you.

“Ffffffuuckkkkkkk! Chrisssss.”

You came, burying your scream in the mattress, and even harder than before. You couldn’t believe that he’d turned the tables on you.

Chris ate you out through your orgasm, holding you down with one hand like it was nothing.

He was god of war, love, and sex, all at once.

Fuck Captain America.

You came again, almost immediately.

When he was done with his meal, he let you go, wiped his mouth with the back of his free hand and stepped back.

“Fuck, what do you want me to do? I can’t take it much longer…” Chris’s sexy growling voice got to you.

“What do you wanna do, Chris? How do you want to take me, Daddy?” Chris’s cock jumped in his hand, he slapped your ass, and watched it jiggle.

Chris entered your wet, wet pussy, and marvel how if felt like it was choking the life out of him. He had to stop moving, or he would burst almost immediately.

“How the fuck are you so wet, but so tight. It’s like a fucking vice grip, geeze.”

You both waited and felt it jump inside you, then Chris reached down, grabbed you by the neck and pulled you upright and flush to his chest.

One hand clutched your throat and the other arm hooked under your leg, allowing him to piston up into you upright while your other leg dangled, your big toe barely touching the ground.

Chris held you and fucked up into you, grunting each time the large mushroom cap head of his cock was stuffed into your pussy.

“Ugh, gatdamn it, you were thinking of leaving, ugh, you wanted to leave this, mmmmmm, this dick that, ugh, that fucks you like this?”

Chris’s mouth was near your ear, which was on his shoulder because your head had fallen back on his chest. He was using you like a sex toy as he fucked you senseless.

His dick slicked in and out of you with obscene wetness, Chris somehow lifting you up and slipping completely out of you and pounding back into you with force.

“Chris!!!”

You started shaking, your center of gravity being where you and he were connected.

He fucked you even harder and faster, chasing his release, but he maneuvered his hand to find your clit, refusing to come before you.

“Fuck! You know you were going to miss this cock that your sweet cunt fits… like… a …mutha …fuckin… glove!”

"Ahhhh!"

You screamed as you fluttered around his cock. He could take only so much before he had to shut his eyes and bite down on your collarbone. Chris’s legs were trembling now.

"Take all of it!." He was hitting your spot. "How does it feel?"

Although the feeling was intense, you tried to speak.

"L-l-l-like h-heav-v-v-ennnnn."

The sound of your voice made his release start to build.

With each of his thrusts, the sweet tightness began to build until you came, screaming and moaning in pleasure.

“Oh shiiiiitttttt!” Chris exploded inside your tight wet cunt. He wanted to fill you up like never before. He wanted to put his baby in you and tie you forever to him. That made his balls empty.

He fell back on the bed, with you on top of him, slipping out of you and depositing you on the bed beside him.

Chris couldn't help but smile as you both came down. He was made for this.

Chris put his hand on your cheek, brushing your beautiful lips with his thumb. You smiled under his attention into his sea blue eyes.

“I love you.” You grinned.

“God, I love you.” You sobered up, taking in the weight of his words.

“Is it weird that I want to get you pregnant before we’re married?”

You made a face.

“Who says I want to marry you?”

Chris scooped you in his arms and rolled you over on top of him.

“You don’t want to marry me? You’d say no if I asked?”

You held in a giggle.

“Nah. I’m gonna move back to Houston and marry someone else so you can come in town and fuck me over the hood of your rental car. That sounds hot as fuck.”

Chris released an anxious breath.

You took his head in your hands.

“Easy now. Ask what you want to ask.” Chris started to speak. You put your finger over his mouth.

“When you want to ask it.” You looked into his eyes again. “I won’t break your heart.”

Chris smiled at you and said, “I know.” He kissed you.

And when you pulled away, breathless, he told you, “You’re the One.”

----------- Read Part Two: It Takes Two

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uglypastels · 3 years

Note

Hogwarts idea

Can you make a fic about how Tom sneakes out at night to spend the nights in the readers room (common room/bedroom) he’s a gryffindor and she’s a ravenclaw

Maybe they have a deal with the house teacher of one of the houses. Maybe he tries to hide in her bed as so not to wake the others. Maybe they fall asleep in the common room and have a minor panic when they wake up and it’s morning. Maybe they accidentally switch clothes or one of them steal the others clothes so they walk around with the wrong colors.

love love love love this!!! and I'm sorry it took me so long, I've been in a bit of a writing slump, but this is the best request to get me out of it! thank you <3 and hope you like it. (this got a bit out of hand and I might have changed the ending a lil bit but I hope its good heh)

(gender neutral!reader, I think? at least that's what I went for but if I accidentally missed something just let me know and I'll edit, I'm dumb)

_________________

Being in your seventh year at Hogwarts, with exams just around the corner, was taking up almost every waking minute of your days. Adding the fact that you had your Head Student duties, and Tom had his Quidditch house team to take care of, meaning that you barely ever had time for each other. The only solution, in your young and smitten minds, was that some rules needed to be broken- just a little bit.

It took Tom some time to convince you since you were supposed to be setting the right example for the younger students, but eventually, one gloomy Friday morning, he finally got to you.

"C'mon, love, it will be fun," he had his arm draped around you as you tried to enjoy your breakfast, the looks of your fellow housemates never going unnoticed. There had never been a rule against students eating meals at different tables, and yet, seeing the captain of the Gryffindor team spending all his mornings and evenings at the Ravenclaw table was a strange sight. He preferred your table, he had said one day when you asked, it was quieter. That you could not disagree with. The Gryffindors were always rowdy.

"I don't know Tommy, what if we get in trouble?" you bit the inside of your cheek, as you always did when you got nervous. Tom responded by pulling you in tighter and kissing your cheek, then said:

"That's half the fun of it, darling." His words rushed an array of feelings through you. A part of you started to feel flustered, while the other wanted to shove his face in the large bowl of porridge that stood on the table.

"Please," he looked at you with his usual sad puppy-eyed look. "I feel like never get to see you, y/n. So I'll come over tonight, you can let me into the Rave tower, we'll hang out a bit and then I'll leave- like nothing ever happened. What do you think?"

"I don't know, Tommy-" You tried to keep a straight face, but it was hard to say no to a gorgeous face like his. after a few short moments of silence, you finally agreed, "fine. Be there at 10. Do not be late, Holland."

"I wouldn't dare to waste a second away from you." He kissed you, grabbed a slice of toast (from your plate, of course), and got up.

"Wait, where are you going?" You asked, confused, since breakfast wouldn't end for another 20 minutes.

"I'm kind of late for early detention with McGonagall," he chuckled before running off, toast between his teeth. You just rolled your eyes and finished your meal in peace.

You never really thought that your classes were boring, but that day, every minute seemed to go by at a quarter of its speed. It was as if someone had put a time-stopping hex on you if that even was a thing. You couldn't wait to finish your studies in the library (the scheduled hours at the library was necessary since there was still so much to get through before the NEWTs), so you could make your way back to the Great Hall for dinner. Once there, you immediately were on the lookout for the head of dark brown curls. You stood in the doorway, letting people pass you, but no luck; Tom was nowhere to be seen.

Internally, you already started cursing. It would be just your luck that he'd get attention again for the rest of the night. Why did you have to fall for the troublemaker-

"Aaah!" you shrieked as suddenly your feet were lifted from the ground. Arms wrapped around your middle, and you were spinning around. You wanted to scream more, but you heard the familiar laugh, and it immediately put you at ease.

"Put me down," you laughed. Tom complied without pretence. But his hands remained at your sides as you turned to face him. And then, eagerly, his lips met yours in a chaste kiss.

It was, of course, silly to think that you could have this moment just for yourself, in a hall filled with hundreds of students. Only a few seconds into your kiss, you could hear wolf-whistles around you. Someone, who sounded very much like Tom's friend and team co-captain Harrison, called out from afar: "Get it, Holland!" Tom was quick to put up two fingers in his direction, not paying attention to anyone. But the mood was ruined, and you pulled apart.

"Missed you today," he said softly.

"Missed you, too." You replied. His fingers slipped between yours, and like that, hand in hand, you were already making your way to the Ravenclaw table, but, unfortunately, Tom was stopped when someone tugged at the back of his robes.

"Oi, you dickhead-" but he laughed it off when he saw it was Ben, another friend and member of the Gryffindor team.

"Sorry 'bout that," Ben apologised, "but we're supposed to be holding a team meeting, remember?" He pointed over at the Gryffindor table, and, indeed, the rest of the team was huddled together at the edge of the table. Harrison had gotten up when he saw you and Tom looking, returning the gesture of the two fingers held up in the V-shape.

"Shit, I forgot." Tom brushed his fingers through his hair. He looked at you, eyes already full of regret, and you could tell he was ready to apologise, but you stopped him before he even opened his mouth.

"Don't worry, we'll talk later, yeah." You kissed him on the cheek, "remember, 10."

And miraculously, Tom did remember. As the clock in the Ravenclaw common room struck 10, you heard the faint knock at the other side of the entrance. Of course, Tom knew where and how to access the Ravenclaw tower, but the riddles that the eagle doorknocker asked were at times a bit too hard, bless him.

You pushed the door open, and there he stood. His robes were exchanged for sweatpants and a hoodie. A blue one, you noticed, not that that would help him fit in with the crowd in the common room. Tom had been team captain for the past three years, and his team had not failed to win the cup once since he had even joined the team, to begin with. Everyone in school knew him and adored him. Not even the rest of your house managed to be mad at him (though the Ravenclaw team definitely held a bit of a grudge after a few bad losses over the years).

He stepped inside, and you quickly lead him around the common room up the stairs of the dormitories.

You had heard that years ago, the stairs had a spell on them that stopped the male students from even attempting to step up to the other dormitories. Now, however, this "rule" has been dropped, ever since several students expressed their concerns for the double standards between the male and female student body, as well as the discomfort it might set up for the queer students.

Personally, you thought it would be even better if every student could have their own room, since sharing a space with four other people could get a bit crowded at times and you liked your privacy, but it was understandable that in an ancient building like Hogwarts renovations were not always an option.

Luck struck once more when you opened the door to your dormitory, and it was empty. All of your friends were still out, most likely staring at their books, in the hopes of getting struck with a moment of brilliance that could help them pass their exams. You closed the door, and Tom made himself comfortable in your bed.

It felt like the entire day had already been wasted, not to mention dinner, so you hurried down to your bed, pulling down the curtains of the four-poster, just to get that little bit of privacy you longed for at the end long day. But, of course, it was nothing unusual or suspicious since you often closed your curtains when you were too tired to chat with your roommates.

It was dark with the curtains closed, but Tom was quick to pull out his wand and murmured "lumos" the tip immediately illuminated in soft blue light. The glow was just enough for you to see his face, the goofy grin taking over his features.

"What are you laughing at?" you asked, whispering in case someone would walk in.

"Nothing," he shrugged, "just happy to be here with you."

"You're daft," you laughed.

"Yeah, about you," and with that, he kissed you. The light at the end of his want went out as he dropped between you. His lips were soft and sweet, the pudding that had been served with dinner still lingering on him. He must have stolen a few cookies from the table when it had finished, you thought, to eat later. He often did that.

You stayed like that, cuddling, stealing kisses from one another, for hours, probably. You were never quite sure because eventually, you both drifted off into a slumber. You could have probably slept like that, wrapped in his arms, forever, if it wasn't the bright light peeking through your curtains that was hitting you right in the face. And the whispers. You could hear people talking.

"I swear, they're just the cutest." It was your friend talking.

"But do they really need to do it here?" A second voice said, also familiar to you. "I mean, how many rules do you think they're breaking?"

"Oh shut!" you heard pillows being thrown. Or at least assumed that was what was happening around you. You couldn't be bothered to open your eyes, instead deciding to focus on Tom and his calm breathing. Your head was close to his chest, so you felt it rise with each inhale he took, and you could hear his heartbeat.

It was Saturday, meaning no classes. You had studied every day for the past few weeks, definitely deserving a little break for the day. If you remembered correctly, Tom wouldn't have training until the late afternoon and you could always skip breakfast. If you got hungry before tea, you could always sneak into the kitchens. After all, the two of you had already broken so many rules, what would be the harm in one more.

Ignoring the further whispers of your friends, you snuggled closer to Tom, feeling his arm wrapping tighter around you. Both of you shuffled around a bit, trying to find back the comfort from the night, and quickly you fell back to sleep.

The End

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deleteddewewted · 3 years

Note

Hello! How are you, and I have a request if you wish to do it. So I was thinking of a College AU with Shinsou working there as a part-time employee, then one day fem! reader comes in and at first he is like “Pfft whatever” but then he brings dropping his tsunade behavior and beings growing soft for her while he got to know her and he has seen her rescue a kitten in which he asked to help co-parent their child. He is doing it to get to know her more because he fell for her, but she is a bit oblivious when it comes to ✨feelings✨. I thought this would make a cute HC/ Drabble, however you wish to do it, of how their relationship began to bloom at the local coffee shop.

AAAAHHHH!!!! YES!

Happy Birthday to Shinsou Hitoshi!💜

The most adorable, handsome, and overall best purple headed boy on the show (Fuck off Mineta).

To Take Care of a Stray: Shinsou Headcanons

Barista! Shinsou x F! Reader

FLUFF

As any college student would tell you, cheap caffeinated drinks were a must.

Coffee specifically was a must.

Shinsou was honestly debating if he needed his 3rd cup of coffee that morning or if he could just wing it and go on with an empty tank.

He procrastinated when it came to his assigned project, plus his project partner ditched him, so he was practically all alone figuring his shit out.

And thats how he found himself working at his local coffee shop.

He hated every single customer that would come in at any hour of the day that he work on.

They all demanded his attention and honestly, some days he wished he could just scream in their faces that "No, i don't give a fuck about your pet bird speaking back to you. I'm only here to make you your coffee and take your money."

The cheap coffee was worth it though, so he keeps the complaining to a minimum.

Retail is honestly a "no reward" type of job. The amount of entitlement that some people have baffles him at times.

Around his second year in college he ends up working the late shift to make some extra cash. It also meant less people coming in and demanding an overly complicated drink. Score!

The sound of the rain pouring down helped calm his nerves and allowed him to relax for moment before the door of the shop swung open.

"Oops, sorry. Didn't mean to do that." The first time you walked into the shop you accidentally pulled the door with too much force that it ended up slamming into the wall.

Shinsou immediately didn't like you.

Who the fuck was this woman?

You went up the counter and told him your order taking out your money and handing it to him.

Clean and simple. Nothing special.

Then you came back again a few days later. That really fucked with him.

Most customers came in and never bothered to talk to him. He wanted their money while they wanted the shitty coffee they sold. Easy, right?

Nope, not with you apparently. You came in and asked about his day, how his studies were going, and if anything interesting happened in the shop.

He would respond with brief answers and immediately ignored you afterwards.

You were just so annoying.

..Ok, maybe not.

You were funny, the way you fumbled and played it off as you being intentional.

The way your mouth would widen into a smile anytime he spoke back to you.

You weren't overly energetic, nor overly happy. You were just nice, nice to him.

He wasn't use to that.

You fascinated him just because you existed and he wanted to learn more about you.

He got his chance on the 5th time you came in.

You usually came in at a specific time, always when there was barely any customers, but today you didnt' show up at all.

He wont admit it but he got concerned and would keep looking at the clock on the wall and back to the door of the coffee shop.

When you finally came in, you had scratches on your hand and on your cheek.

"What the fuck happened to you?" He leaned onto his hand that was placed on the counter top. His body relaxed and only showed boredom.

In reality he was terrified, you had scratches on your hands and red streaks too. Why?

"Oh, i was just- i fell into a bush." You gave him a smile that made his heart flutter and legs go weak.

He was so happy he was leaning on the counter because he hadn't he would have fallen onto the floor.

Your smile just had that affect on him.

"How stupid can you be? Look were your going next time."

"Aww, thanks sir!"

Good mood was gone. He told you not to treat him like your friend, thats not what you both are.

...But he really hated that you took that very literally and didn't bother to at least call him by his last name.

"Hmm." He gave you your usual and answered the questions you had for him that day.

You started to come in 4 times a week and every time you did he would notice new scratches on you.

The scratches weren't that bad, he thought maybe you were one those "adventures" types, but the red marks were concerning him.

When he would ask you about them you always had a different excuse for them.

"My backpacks straps are bit rough."

"I placed my arm wrong on the table"

It was this or that but never a concrete answer.

It was happening every time you came in so something had to be wrong.

He gathered up the little cuarage he had and decided to ask you what you were doing.

"Why do have so many scratches on you?" You werent expecting him to be so blunt but you happily told him to meet you after his shift at the nearby alleyway.

He was suspicious of you but he was also curious, he desperately needed answers because the concern for your wellbeing was getting to be too much for him.

He followed your instructions and walked towards the alleyway you directed him to.

When he turned the corner he saw the most beautiful scene in the world.

You were surrounded by cats...and you were giving them food.

He could die happily then and there.

"W- this is why you show us with scratches all over you!?" You nodded but got up and walked over to a cardboard box that was tucked under a bigger box.

You told him to follow and when he crouched down to see what was in it he saw two huge eyes staring back at him.

"You've been- this little thing is the reason for your scratches?"

"Yep!"

He laughed at you and helped you feed all of the cats.

When the two of you finished up, you picked up the box that the small kitten was tucked in and gave it a pat on the head.

"What are you going to do with the kitten?" Shinsou asked you.

"Well, i wish i could take it with me but i don't think i'd be able to take care of it since i work early in the morning and have classes late at night."

Shinsou's mind started planning.

He really liked you and wanted to be around you more often.

Shit, if he was brutally honest he had a crush on you.

"Well, i have classes early morning while i work at night. So...why don't we co-pa-... i mean co-care for the little guy?" He knows his ears were red, he knows his face was starting to turn red as well.

But he wasn't about to admit that he really wanted you to say "yes".

"Uh, ok. Sure!"

Shinsou was over the moon with this and it was all going so perfectly as well.

The kitten would spend the mornings with you and in the afternoons the two of you would meet up to take care of it together.

You both decided to name the kitten Mieko.

""Beautiful blessing child", thats a cute name! Why do you want to call him that?"

"Because...i want to- y-you idiot. Stop asking so many questions!" You just laughed at him and gave him a pat on the shoulder.

Shinsou melts.

Shinsou would bring the kitten with him to work since his boss had a soft spot for animals.

Imagine how exited he was when you first invited him into your own apartment.

"You have your own place? Color me impressed."

"Thanks Shin." Shinsou blushed a little at the nickname. It had been over a month that you both agreed to take care of the kitten together.

The more time he spent with you the more he fell.

"I hope you like the umm...book." This was another thing that started after the two of you began to co-parent the kitten. He would bring you gifts and act like it meant nothing.

Reality is that he was courting you.

He expected you to make a comment on his gifts but you glossed over them like nothing.

It was getting on his nerves.

"Aah, hey. Do you want to take Mieko out for a walk...again."

"Was that a question or a demand?" You laughed at him

You made it look easy with how much you make him blush.

The more time you both spent with each other, the more Shinsou realized he was truly in love with you and wanted you to be by his side.

But he was facing a problem. You.

You wouldn't pick up on the hints he was dropping on you. His interest on you.

So one day he decides to just tell up upfront if you would like to go on a date with him.

"Hey Shin, do you want to go on a date with me?"

Shinsou. exe has stopped operations

"W-wha-"

"I'm joking buddy! But seriously do you want to go out to eat? I think Mieko would-"

"W-WHaT!? F-fuck no!" That upset you because you thought he might like free lunch.

"You could've just said no." He was losing you, again.

Fuuuuuuuck!!!!!

"N-no wait! What i wanted to say was umm, would you like to go out with me? Like a date! N-not like friends."

You both just stared at each other for a moment, the silence only making the situation worse.

"...Sure."

Mieko, your child, just blinked at the two of you.

"These two ridiculous humans are my parents, great." At least this lead to Shinsou moving in with you and Mieko having a permanent home now.

Double the pats for the two new people in your home, double the purring sounds, double the angry and grouchy cats begging for your attention.

Who wold trade this? You got to cuddle with the two most adorable people in this world.

"I'm not fucking adorable Y/n!"

"Shush Toshi or you're not getting cuddles and kisses."

"....fine."

#shinsou x y/n #shinsou hitoshi #shinsou x reader #shinsou x female reader #bnha shinso x reader #mha shinso x reader #shinso x you #shinsou hcs #mha shinsou #bnha shinsou #mha shinsou hitoshi #bnha shinsou hitoshi #shinsou hitoshi x reader #mha #bnha #mha headcanons #asks

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oumaheroes · 3 years

Text

Old Age

Word Count: 1772

Characters: Canada, England, and France

---

There were some days where Canada truly felt his age.

Most of the time how old he was didn’t really hit him. He happily pottered around work or home as easily as he imagined most humans his physical age did: running for a train he was almost certainly going to miss, tripping down the last few steps on a flight of stairs because he was staring at his phone and wasn’t watching his feet, or spilling coffee on himself when he missed his mouth taking a sip.

His colleagues, despite knowing who he was, spoke to him as an equal and Canada could happily pass weeks, or sometimes even months, without consciously being aware of how old he was- or even really what he was.

It was easy to forget, surrounded by humans every day, that he was not one. His ministers and co-workers spoke to him without questioning his position that high in government- that was admittedly unusual for a face as young as his. Occasionally, he’d bump into a young intern or graduate who didn’t know him and he’d have a nice, genuine interaction before a look of shock crossed their face when someone high up greeted him respectfully. It was a helpful, yet stark, reminder.

But overall, when you were surrounded by people who did know it never really hit him that his presence or job was something he took for granted and the passing of time was something he didn’t really take notice of. It was normal. He was there, he was called Matthew, sometimes, or Canada, but both were his name and the potency of what he was, was surprisingly quite forgettable.

Of course, what he was was never something he could completely avoid. Someone would mention a time, or a date, or a thing that had happened and Canada would immediately feel the distance widen between them all as it was made obvious that, to everyone else, what they were discussing was history. It was something passed, something that had happened to other people too long ago to properly connect with on an emotional level. An old battle, an old political bill; something that someone long long dead had said or written that now remained only as faint ink on curling, dusty paper.

But to Canada it was there in his head, the words clear and as easy to recall as if they were spoken to him yesterday. A benefit of nationhood, he supposed, to be fully aware of things that had political consequence, to be able to trace the makings of himself back through time and see how they spiralled and grew.

History wasn’t just words, to him, or mere events. Such things made up the foundations of himself, the building blocks of his life and he felt them thrum through him like a song, twisting and moulding him into being.

Becoming aware of his age and the difference between himself and humans were when Canada really felt the weight of the years he carried. Over three hundred of them made themselves known, hanging off his shoulders and settling down to his legs to hold him up. It was easy to briefly forget how old he was, but that knowledge was impossible to rid himself of entirely- Canada was made up of history, of the bones of time and they cracked together as he moved through his life to remind him of who he was with every step.

He had burned, he had bled, he had died. He had seen.

That was the point of him. To watch to passage of time and remember it, to hold the memory of his people within him and use their voices and experiences to push for the continuation of the future. Their future.

Canada was his people, was made by his people for his people and as he sat amongst them, discussing old old moments long gone with humans who could only read and dream of them, the distinction of what he was would hit him like a thunderbolt.

It was heavy, to be so old. To have seen so many things, to have lived through so much. To be what he was.

He had just had one of those instances. He and his cabinet had spent the entire morning discussing the founding of their nation and its independence in order to plan for the yearly celebrations and Canada had suffered through the whole time feeling every second of his age press against him.

When talks finally drew to a close and he could escape, Canada dragged his ancient body towards the centre of town. England and France were visiting, along with the rest of the UN, and he’d promised to meet them both for lunch before they too were pulled into an afternoon of far more internationally inclined meetings.

If he were honest with himself, what Canada really wanted to do was go home and watch TV; switch his brain off so that he could numb himself with bad reality shows. It was a good pastime that he enjoyed with guilty abandon and one that he would much rather have preferred doing. However, he’d made a promise and Canada was nothing if not a nation of his word.

Sadly.

England and France were already there when he arrived, tucked away in a corner table. France glanced up as the door jingled with his entrance, waving him over with a smile. Canada nodded at the waiter who motioned him through and settled himself down in a chair at their table between them.

‘Good afternoon,’ France greeted him with his usual cheek kisses, hair tickling Canada’s nose as he leant in close, ‘you arrived just on time, I was about to throw Arthur out of the window.’

‘You wish,’ England looked up from his phone and shot him a quick, but warm smile, ‘Hello Matthew.’

Canada’s heart sank. He really wasn’t in the mood to play mediator today, ‘Dare I ask why?’ he said, turning to France.

France gave an effortless shrug and settled back in his seat, ‘Do I really need a reason?’

‘Yes.’

Both England and Canada spoke at once and France gave a sly grin, ‘I won’t darling, you don’t deserve the trouble,’ he patted Canada’s knee soothingly and politely ignored England’s muttered “as if you could” from across the table, ‘but the idiot seems to think he’s correct about something which he very much is not.’

‘Oh, of course,’ England retorted immediately, ‘you can’t remember properly but I’m the one who’s wrong.’

‘Yes.’

‘No.’

‘What is it?’ Canada interjected quickly. The waiter who had greeted him at the door was shooting their table looks of alarm out of the corner of his eye and Canada smiled at him apologetically, ‘Maybe I could help.’

To his surprise, England and France shared a look, something unspoken passing between them, ‘You weren’t about yet,’ offered France, sounding apologetic.

‘When was it?’

‘Oh, not too long ago,’ England waved a hand airily, ‘only six hundred years or so.’

Canada blinked, ‘Six hundred?’

‘Or there abouts,’ England frowned again, ‘I’m not sure when exactly, but I know France is wrong.’

France scoffed, ‘You can’t remember when it is, but you know I’m wrong?’

‘Obviously. I know it was about fifty years after Agincourt, I’m not sure of exactly when but-‘

‘Well, there you go! You’ve muddled it up with something else.’

‘I haven’t! You held that ball, the one with the fucking shit tonne of flowers everywhere, and were displaying those golden goblet things you were so damn proud of and I gave you that stupid painting-‘

‘No!’ France interjected angrily, ‘You took that painting and then were made to give it back.’

‘I didn’t! It was my bloody painting- Jesus fucking Christ,’ England held his head in his hands, ‘that’s not the point, I’m using that as a reference-‘

‘Yes well, pick a reference that has a grain of reality in it, would you?’

England opened his mouth to argue back again but Canada didn’t hear him, by now long tuned out of the conversation.

Only. Only six hundred years ago. Canada couldn’t even imagine that amount of time, couldn’t imagine having lived so long that six hundred years was considered to be a mere drop in the ocean.

But to these two, it was. England and France had both been alive for millennia, had known each other for that long and had been alive without each other for even longer before that.

Sitting next to them, his own existence suddenly felt like nothing, felt insignificant in the history of mankind. What had Canada seen, that these two had not? He couldn’t even begin to imagine. Three hundred years felt more than enough.

It hit him, then, how long most of their kind had lived. He’d realised this before, of course, but still the comprehension about the difference in age between him and most of the world left him dumbstruck anew. Fuck, what about China; Lord only knew how old he really was. There wasn’t a point in history that it didn’t seem as though China hadn’t been around to experience, even from across the world. Whole empires and civilisations had risen and fallen and most of the nations Canada knew had personally been involved in them somehow. It was astounding to consider all the people who had lived throughout the centuries that, to Canada, felt like nothing more than characters in a story.

What on earth was three hundred years to age like that? To history that felt so ancient to him, so disconnected that it didn’t really even feel real, but that was as normal to most nations as his own history was.

How many years would Canada have to live until three hundred was something he would describe as ‘only’?

‘Are you alright, lad?’ Canada was jolted out of his spiral to find England looking at him with concern, a hand on his arm.

‘Yeah, sorry,’ he shook his head, ‘it’s just- you’re both so old.’

England coloured and France laughed, ‘We’re not old,’ England jabbed a thumb in France’s direction, ‘Well, he is.’

‘It is more about how you feel and act, dear, that’s more important and in that regard, you are far older than I.’ France yelped suddenly as England kicked him under the table, ‘Does the truth sting, Arthur? Is that why you felt the need to vent your frustrations on me?’

‘As if I need more of a reason-‘

They began again, in earnest, but Canada let them continue uninterrupted, silently and guiltily enjoying the feeling of being a child once more.

---

AN:

I must admit that not much thought or plot went into this. I wanted to write something short and somewhat silly as a treat for spending most of yesterday editing. Ideally, one day I want to take this concept and explore it more with greater care and detail because I think it’s something a newer nation like Canada would really struggle with.

300 years is a long time, and I’m sure it must be hard for him to feel that age and then go and speak to anyone from the Old World and be met with the reality of how truly old their kind can be. Canada is a baby, despite the centuries he has collected for himself, and I feel like there would always be that conflict within him about how old he feels around humans comapred to how old he is next to other nations. Maybe this idea is best explored as a headcannon rather than a fic, but I had a fun time writing it.

Anyway, that is my tuppence worth- thank you for reading!

#aph canada #hws canada #aph england #hws england #aph france #hws france #hetalia fanfic #hetalia #aph #hws #hetalia fanfiction #matthew williams #francis bonnefoy #arthur kirkland #my writing #i will put fruk into literally anything i swear #i cannot be stopped

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bakugou-tm · 4 years

Text

Master Knows Best (18+)

Bakugou x Maid Cafe Reader

plot: You’ve gone almost a full year working at a maid cafe with none of your friends finding out, which is exactly how you liked it; but thanks to a certain friend your beloved hot headed boyfriend found out your secret and planned on teasing you the whole time. In a stubborn attempt to get back at him, you realized exactly what would happen if you disobeyed your master

warnings: suggestive NSFW, swearing, a shit ton of teasing

wc: 5200+

mood song: worst behavior

a/n: I was supposed to post this on valentine’s day but it’s better late than never right? I perhaps may make a part two depending on how this does but I’m also a s s at NSFW so we’ll see. For now just enjoy (especially my fellow brats out there)

You liked things to be simple. You were a simple girl, with a simple life.

Sure you had your secrets, but thanks to your overall simplicity, nobody even bothered to uncover them.

That’s just the way you liked it too. Each different part of your life was separated as they should, for if they intertwined your life would becoming a living nightmare.

You never dreamed that living nightmare would become a reality. Who knew all it would take to crumble the reputation you built up for so long...

was a simple text.

Sweat trickled down the ash blond’s toned arms, his ragged breath becoming more steady as he slumped down against the wall while his friend took a few rounds at the punching bag.

The sound of his phone buzzing beside him didn’t drag him out of his exhausted mindset quite yet, but when his crimson eyes glanced across the words on the screen he felt everything come to a halt.

electric dunce: remember that day time job (l/n) said she had during the weekends? i think i found it bro..

electric dunce: 1 attachment

Bakugou’s red haired training buddy noticed the change in spirit with his blond friend, noticing how his heavy breathing suddenly stopped.

Wiping his gloved hand across his forehead, Kirishima glanced down to his friend only to see Bakugou’s eyebrows knit in a deep focus.

“You uh... You okay bro?” Kirishima questioned with a raised brow, trying to control his own ragged breaths after he attacked the swaying back before him.

Before he could question his friend once more, Bakugou let out a breathy chuckle, one filled with mischief and even excitement if Kirishima listened well enough.

“Training is cut short today shitty hair.”

“Come onnnn (L/n), how could you tell us you have a job then not tell us what it is?” The pink haired girl whined as she slid her upper half onto your lap and sighed dramatically.

Giggling slightly your eyes flicked to Kaminari across from you as his lips doubled over into a pout, “The whole point of having a job is so your friends can come crash it!”

“And to make some money dumbo.” You sneered, flicking his forehead gently while glancing down to Mina’s attempt at puppy dog eyes, “Besides, I didn’t want to tell you guys. You forced me to tell you where I went after school or you said you would doxx me.”

Your friends let out a sigh of defeat as Kirishima glanced to your boyfriend beside you, “C’mon Baku-bro not even you know where she works?”

Smirking slightly you placed a gentle palm on your boyfriends cheek and winked to him tauntingly,

“Not even Katsuki~”

Bakugou simply clicked his tongue and smacked your hand away, “I don’t know because I don’t fucking care.”

Oh but he did care. It ate away at him everyday that you refused to reveal where you worked. You claimed it would be “embarrassing” for him to see you working and wearing a uniform but he failed to understand why it would be. He brutally antagonized you all the time and you never bat an eye, why would he care if he saw you wearing a ‘Mini-Mart’ uniform?

You simply hummed at your boyfriend’s denial and leaned against his side.

“Say whatever you need to make you feel better love,” You purred, grinning at his scowl before you looked to your group of friends,

“Because you will never find out where I work, ever.”

Bakugou felt like he was in a state of euphoria as he stood before the quaint wooden doors, decorated with all sorts of pastel ribbons and paint.

It was almost as if he was entering the doors of heaven, the ultimate satisfaction of knowing he was about to beat you and your stupid threat.

And better yet, of all the places to find out you worked, it was here?

Oh he was going to enjoy this, even beyond getting revenge.

“Never find out my ass.” Bakugou sneered with a smirk, letting the soft breeze flow through his spiky locks as he tugged open the door into the unknown.

Meanwhile you were attempting to gracefully, yet quickly, get your uniform back on since your break ended in about thirty seconds. You hated how good you had gotten at putting on this stupid uniform, soon enough it would be second nature to you.

Working at a Maid Cafe wasn’t exactly where you planned to end up. When you stumbled onto the small podium in kindergarten to announce your future career, you surely didn’t say “I want to be a server at a Maid Cafe!”

And yet here you were pulling up the thigh high socks to your frilly, bow covered maid dress.

Admittedly when you were searching for jobs, you were surprised to find no luck. Any job that paid well required university years, and any left over job wouldn’t pay enough for your time to walk there.

It wasn’t until your aunt came to you in your troubles and recommended the job of your nightmares.

“My sweetheart why don’t you just work at my niece’s Maid Cafe? You’ll get to work with very sweet young girls about your age, and they pay very well since they have a very diverse clientele!”

Immediately you threw away the idea before you could even process it, the thought of having to serve gross old men and pretend to be excited while doing it didn’t sound appealing, let alone possible.

With that said, that didn’t mean your aunt was going to give up just yet. Without telling you she scheduled an interview for you, telling you if you didn’t show up it would make your family look bad.

Feeling the inevitable guilt throughout the day, you submitted into your aunt’s wishes and at least showed up to the interview.

Who knew? Maybe they would just let you be a janitor or something.

Sure enough they wanted you as a maid, but before you could even deny they offered double what any job had offered you, even the high paying ones.

“We know the job isn’t ideal, which is why we pay so much. A young girl like you would be just perfect here!”

Push came to shove, and somehow you ended up working at the cafe for a year and a half now.

You couldn’t lie, dressing up all cute and getting to hang out with a bunch of sweet girls was pretty fun. It beats mopping an empty grocery store with creepy co-workers.

With that said, the dread of having to deal with pervy customers and the existential fear of one of your friends walking through the door almost outweighed the pros of the job.

Luckily you had been able to escape doom for this long, so what are the odds that would change anytime soon?

The sound of the bell charming brought you back to your senses, quickly tying the silk bow behind your back you stumbled out into the break room to see your boss awaiting.

“Phew I thought you almost ditched us (L/n).” Your boss said with a wink.

Rolling your eyes you began walking backwards towards the swinging doors that led to the dining room.

“Have I ever failed you Miss Manager?” You purred with a grin.

Satisfied with her laugh you danced through the double doors, putting on your cute act once again. Only two hours left and you could go home and pig out on what was left in your pantry.

If that’s truly all it took, you didn’t mind turning on your “anime girl” side for a few hours.

Smiling at all the guests you made sure to check on everyone’s table before making your way towards the greeting podium. The doorbell went off so that meant some sort of customer was waiting to be sat.

Giving one last wink to a customer you whipped your head towards the front doors and gave a small bow before looking up.

“Welcome back to Maid Cafe master, would you like me to show you to your se..AHHHH!”

The moment your eyes met the sturdy figure before you, all senses jumped out the window as you screeched and jumped backwards defensively.

How.. How could this happen? This couldn’t be happening. All your intricate planning and anxious working to make sure no one you knew would ever catch you on the job.

And out of all the people in the world... it had to be Katsuki Bakugou.

Your ever so taunting boyfriend.

Sure enough Bakugou had a shit eating grin on his face, his eyes glowing with excitement for probably more reasons than you could count.

“Well well well, don’t you look familiar.”

At this point words weren’t even an option in your mind, you couldn’t tell if the cold spike of fear shooting up your spine was worse or the overwhelming heat that flared along your face.

Your little outburst didn’t go unnoticed by the guests and maids, all eyes moved to the two of you as you stumbled over your own words.

“Y..You- I.. but I.. and you! I can’t...”

“(L/n) is something the matter?”

The sound of your boss’ sweet voice from behind you caused you to shriek again as you now jumped to face her.

Feeling your face grow even warmer you avoided eye-contact with her, trying to use what was left of your slowly deflating brain to come up with an excuse to fix this entire mess.

“Yeah princess, is something the matter?”

Between the chilling tone and the pet name you physically shuddered, your head slowly peaking back to the problem at hand.

Bakugou couldn’t help but notice your reaction, sneering cockily as he looked down on you with pride.

“Zip it Bakugou-”

“Ah ah..” Bakugou started before you could even finish your threat, “I believe you are supposed to refer to me as master.”

If your brain wasn’t broken before, it sure was now. Your internal mix of equally enjoying this and hating this had officially clashed and broken any sense at this point. All you could feel beyond anger at this point was complete and utter embarrassment.

“(L/n) you’re not having any trouble greeting our guest, are you?” Your boss questioned sternly.

You’ve honestly never heard her get so serious with you, given this was far from her angry side, but you hated disappointing your superiors.

Glancing around you still noticed some eyes on you along with your suspicious boss’. At this point there was no escaping the situation, and like hell were you going to give this bastard the satisfaction of your embarrassment.

“N..No ma’am, no trouble at all!” You said back in your sweet work voice, offering the best smile you could muster before twitching back to your smug boyfriend.

“Let me uh... let me show you to your table...” You stuttered out, grabbing a single menu before looking up at your expectant boyfriend’s expression. You knew exactly what the little shit was waiting for, and if you didn’t say it your boss would surely drag you to the back.

“Master.”

Bakugou sighed in dramatic satisfaction, clasping his hands together sarcastically and bending down to your level, “Fucking splendid.”

Gritting your teeth you glared into his crimson orbs before spinning on your heel, plastering the cute smile on your face so your boss could get off your back.

Once she seemed to notice you returned to your old state, she let out a gentle sigh and walked away to serve her tables.

At the very least you felt a bit less tense knowing she wasn’t following you like a hawk, but she was far from the problem at hand.

Quickly b-lining towards a table in the corner, you slammed the menu down and pulled out the chair, offering the most sarcastically pleasant smile you could.

Bakugou gladly took his seat, making sure to drag his hand along the small of your back on the way down. He throughly enjoyed each time you shivered from his touch, or even words.

First you decided to take his order, making sure all eyes were officially off the two of you. Once you decided the coast was clear, you quickly grabbed the collar of his tank top, as you bent down to be eye level with him.

“How did you find out about my job Katsuki.”

Bakugou grunted in surprise, catching himself quickly before he smirked back to your fuming expression. Oh how adorable you were when you were mad.

Your thick eyebrows would knit together in a deep focus and your plush lips would pinch into a perfect pout that drove him crazy.

As the blond smugly glanced over your features, his eyes flicked up only to notice other eyes were facing the two of you once again, only this time they only seemed to be on you. On your backside.

The way you were bending down seemed to perfectly expose your backside to the world, and your dumbass was too oblivious with him to even realize it.

Clicking his tongue, Bakugou placed a firm palm on the edge of your spine before shoving you down to your knees so the back of your dress would cover your backside once again.

The action caused a small yelp to escape your lips, you assumed he had done it to embarrass you which made you that much more mad.

“Answer. My. Question.”

Once the ash blond was satisfied with your state and he glared at any that dared to still look at you, he glanced back down to your fiery orbs with an unimpressed look.

Rolling his eyes he slapped your hand away causing you to huff before he shoved the photo Kaminari sent to him.

Glancing over the photo you eyes widened to see a photo of you through the window of the Maid Cafe assisting a customer.

Your cheeks began to glow red again as you worriedly looked up to Bakugou, “You guys actually doxxed me?!”

Bakugou raised a brow and snatched his phone back with a sigh.

“I didn’t, I can’t speak for that stupid dunce but I’ll deal with his reasoning later,” He explained before his dreadful smirk returned as he cupped the edge of your chin, “Back to the elephant in the room, how come you hid such a delicious fucking secret from your master.”

As much as you would’ve loved this behind closed doors, to be openly embarrassed in public made your head feel like it was going to explode.

“S..Stop acting all smug you idiot!” You snapped, smacking his hand from your chin and standing up straight, “I hid this from you so you wouldn’t act like an egotistical dick.”

At this Bakugou barked out a laugh, the booming sound causing you to jump a bit as he slouched back in his chair, folding his arms with that smug grin.

“I think we’ve already come to the conclusion that my fucking ego is backed up, or have you forgotten doll?”

His piercing red eyes narrowed to your own, the sight making you blush as you jerked your head to the side and huffed.

“Can you order already idiot? I’ve got plenty of other orders to take.”

Bakugou simply smirked and picked up the menu, glancing down the options before shoving it in your arms.

“I’ll get two of the shitty rice bears,” He explained, grinning when he saw you look up with a raised brow, “I’ve got a hungry maid coming home soon waiting to please her master.”

Your confused expression turned into a flushed angry one as you snatched the menu from him and turned on your heel. You didn’t even remember what he asked for but at this point you didn’t care. You just wanted to hide from the customers so you could collect what dignity you had left.

The moment you brushed by the double doors you let out a sigh of relief as you rested your head against the back wall. Maybe if you closed your eyes and pinched yourself hard enough you would wake up from this horrible nightmare?

You could only imagine the things Bakugou was thinking. Does he think you’re some ditzy pushover maid girl now? Is he texting your friends telling them that you work here? Honestly Kaminari has probably already done that.

It was so nice having the upper hand on him for once, but now that he took every last bit of dignity and laughed in your face, you were doomed.

“Rough shift huh?”

Raising your brows you peaked an eye open to see one of your coworkers with a concerned expression. Standing up straight you fixed a piece of your hair and nodded.

“Yeah I guess you could say that..”

“How come you were acting so weird with that customer (L/n)-chan?” Your manager called from behind, carrying a bunch of plates as she walked beside your coworker, “Is it because he’s crazy hot?”

Folding your arms you let out a huff as you pouted your lips out,

“Try boyfriend.”

Both girls gasped in shock, your boss nearly dropping the plates in her hand as they looked two you in disbelief.

“Wow sorry for calling him hot, I never knew you had a boyfriend (L/n)! And a hunk at that~”

Letting out a slight chuckle, both your eyes fell on your coworker when she spoke up.

“You know this same thing happened to me with my boyfriend,” She spoke while tapping her finger against her cheek in thought, “I didn’t want him finding out about my job because I knew he would make fun of me, then one day he showed up and sure enough started making fun of me.”

Frowning you let out a sigh as you rubbed the side of your face exasperatedly, “My dumb boyfriend is doing that too! What did you end up doing with yours?”

Your coworker grinned as she shrugged.

“I simply fought fire with fire. Since he was making fun of me, I made him eat his words and watch me serve the other customers. He ended up getting so jealous he left!”

The advice she had given you finally brought warmth back to your numb body, you felt a grin rise to your face as you quickly wrapped your arms around your coworker.

“You are a lifesaver woman! I owe you so much for that advice.”

Your coworker simply laughed and hugged you back, happy to see you back in your normal cheerful state.

“Yeah have some fun but don’t ruin the experience for our other guests!” Your boss called out before walking out the door with the plates.

“I should probably get out there too, let me know if you need any help (L/n)-chan.” Your coworker said with a mischievous grin before dancing out the double doors.

Your mind was rushing with ideas, how could you of not thought of this before? Your explosive boyfriend could get jealous from a rock on the street, this would be the perfect pay back for you!

If he was going to come into your workplace and wreak havoc, you would do the same for his inflated ego.

Fixing up your dress you grabbed the two plates and narrowed your eyes towards the dining room.

“Bring it on Bakugou Katsuki.”

Oh did Bakugou feel pleased with himself.

Normally he hated skipping out on a workout, but this was worth it.

He couldn’t let the image of your adorable flushed expression and tense body escape his mind. Let alone that maid costume on you was divine on your plush skin.

The fact that you refused to wear a maid costume in the bedroom made it that much better, no wonder you were trying to hide this job from him.

The way the black silk hugged every curve, just tight enough to where your skin was overflowing from the material. And those thighs squeezing out of those adorable thigh highs drove him wild.

If he hadn’t made the best discovery of his life today, he would almost be mad you were strutting around in such a costume for anyone other than himself.

Deciding to wait another day to deal with that, Bakugou simply enjoyed the scenery and awaited for his girlfriend.

Just like clockwork he saw your form dance out of the backroom a bit too peppy. The thought of you “collecting” yourself in the back only made him sneer with a sadistic grin, he would simply break you all over again when you served him the food.

Just as you sauntered over to his table, the ash blond looked you up and down with a smirk, opening his mouth to say something truly condescending until your body turn away from him and towards another table.

“Here’s your panda shaped muffin and honeydew boba masters!” You spoke to the two customers at the table in front of him, “Is there anything else I can get for you my handsome masters?”

Bakugou felt his heart drop at the sound of you calling another living organism your master. Were you doing this on purpose? Is this usually how you talked to the shitty customers here?

His answer was confirmed when a small squeak escaped your lips and you bent down towards the table, your chest surely giving the two guests a show given their cherry lit cheeks as your thumb grazed across one of the customer’s cheeks.

“Silly master, you have some icing on your cheek.” You said with the most divine giggle he had ever heard. Gritting his teeth his entire world froze when you stuck the finger in your mouth and licked the white cream off clean, “No worries, I got it for you~”

The man before you looked like he was going to bust on the spot, his friend watching with his jaw dropped and eyes filled with jealousy.

Smiling sweetly you gave them one last bow, “Let me know if you need anything else masters!”

Just before you danced away from their table you glanced to Bakugou, giving him a small smirk as you looked him up and down with unimpressed eyes before sauntering away, leaving your explosive boyfriend on the verge of a breakdown.

You truly had a death wish. It was the only explanation for your actions. For almost a full hour you kept that act up, leaving the many guests within the cafe speechless and ogling over you. You knew exactly how jealous Bakugou could get, and you knew he hated admitting it.

Of course Bakugou also knew what a little tease you were. He didn’t miss the delight in your glistening eyes each time you taunted him, waiting for the repercussions of his wrath. But this...

This crossed the line of his sanity.

The ash blond tried to wait til your shift was over, he really did. As furious as he was with you, he wasn’t irresponsible enough to make you lose your job. But the moment your finger tips danced along the shoulder of a guest, any bit of restraint the male had left in his body had snapped like a twig.

The sound of him storming up from his table caused the immediate guests around him to look up, his silverware clanking against the pink trimmed plate as he made a direct line towards you.

Unfortunately for you, the scene your boyfriend caused went over your head as you continued to jot down the order from the customers before you. Focusing on your blossom shaped ordering pad you didn’t notice the horrified expressions on the customers before you as the saw an angry Bakugou storming up behind you.

“I’ll get those orders right up for you masters~” You exclaimed with a cute wink as you began to walk off until a firm hand wrapped around your wrist in a vice grip.

Bakugou could have loosened his bit a grip he realized when you let out a small yelp but he had already committed and like hell was he going to let you flirt with another damn customer right before his very eyes.

Your sweet words, gentle touches, suggestive actions... they weren’t meant for him and him only.

Immiedetly you recognized your boyfriend’s sharp hold and tried to tug your hand away so not to make a scene, but the ash blond simple spun your wrist around and pinned it to your back, giving him full control of wherever you walk.

With a squeak he shoved you forward, causing you to stumble over your own feet as he quickly pushed you towards the backroom.

You briefly met gaze with your boss as he shoved you by, your eyes pleading for help as they were filled with regret. Your boss opened her mouth, not sure what to even do.

“E..Excuse me sir? You can’t touch the-”

Before she could even finish her sentence Bakugou flashed a sharp glare to the woman, his crimson orbs thin from lack of patience and absolute fury.

Your boss was smart enough to know your boyfriend was truly about to go feral, for her life and your own she decided it was best to turn away and pretend she saw nothing.

You let out a small pout when you saw her attempt to serve the shocked guests, leaving you to be shoved into the backroom by a surely pent up Bakugou.

Once you reached the back you saw your coworker, the one that had given you such brilliant advice before, shoving a pastry in her mouth as she was on her break. Her eyes first fell on the dark lidded ones of your boyfriend before falling on your pleading fearful eyes.

Her mouth opened, unsure of what to say before closing.

“I’m uh.. gonna take my break outside.” She muttered softly, politely pushing the chair in and offering the best smile she could before she quickly shuffled out the back doors.

Once the room was clear Bakugou let go of your wrist, giving you a chance to stretch your arm back in it’s proper position before the sound of the back door slamming to a close caused you to shriek in surprise.

Bakugou couldn’t help but smirk as you jumped, as angry as he was he loved seeing you so on edge thanks to him. Returning to a serious expression he watched as you turned around, attempting to put on a serious face of your own.

“Bakugou you know I still have thirty minutes left of my shift-”

Trying to speak was hard enough as is with the thick tension in the room, but when the ash blond slammed his hands on either side of you against the wooden break table you let out a shriek and quickly sat back against the ledge attempting to gain some more space between you two.

The action made him chuckle dryly as he looked you up and down.

“You’re still going to act like a fucking brat huh? After the show you just put on?” Bakugou spoke lowly, his eyes drinking in the sight of your costume only swirling more pent up feelings within him, “Someone’s feeling spunky today?”

You bit at the corner of your lip, swallowing what left of saliva was in your dry mouth as you tried terribly to avoid eye contact.

“Hiding such a naughty job from me, and then when I catch you red handed this is the treatment I get?” Bakugou hisses with clenched fists, “You should’ve been at my fucking heel all day for keeping such a delicious lie from me and yet you taunt me like you’re the one in charge?”

His harsh words made heat rise to your cheeks as you looked down at your frilly dress, trying to find anything to look at besides his face. Surely you knew that wasn’t going to pass with him.

“Look at me when I fucking speak to you brat.” Bakugou growled, his eyes narrowing when he saw your lips pinch together stubbornly.

Letting out an annoyed sigh he grabbed your wrist roughly before shoving you back against the thin wall and grabbing your jaw harshly shoving it against the wall with a hard knock, forcing your eyes to meet.

The sight of your cheeks being squished together by his large palms and your wide glassy eyes forced to look into his own, he couldn’t hide his smug smirk as he felt you lightly tremor beneath him.

“Much better doll.” Bakugou cooed, voice laced with sarcasm as you both knew the next chain of events were about to get quite violent.

“Now, I was planning on patiently waiting for you to get off so we could take this conversation in private...” Bakugou spoke, eyes narrowing down to yours as he let out a sinister laugh, “Hell I even bought you a treat, I’m such a generous fucking boyfriend aren’t I?”

Your breathing was ragged as you stared up into his crimson eyes, your brain was so fogged by the situation that you hadn’t even realized what he asked until his grip on your jaw tightened.

“I asked you a fucking question.”

Blinking back to reality you nodded deserpatly, not daring to look away from his gaze as you let out a slight whimper that shot directly to his pants.

“Good.” Bakugou said with a dark smile before continuing on, “But now I cannot go along with that generous plan because you can’t go two seconds without acting like a fucking slut.”

The filthy words spewing from his lips caused your face to grow warm, the entire situation already had your silk underwear drenched, but his words alone caused you to brush your plump thighs together desperately.

Your actions didn’t go unnoticed by the ash blond as he roughly shoved a knee between your legs causing a whine to escape your lips when he refused to put any friction on your aching core.

“Even now you can’t help but act like a brainless bitch in heat.” Bakugou sneered with a grin, his hand on your jaw lowering to now grip on your neck gently so not to cut off any air.

“Because you’ve disobeyed me multiple times today, I’m going to have to set you straight right here in public so you know who truly has the power here.”

Your mouth opened to rebuttal as your eyes widened at his idea, but his hand only gripped tighter around your throat causing the words shove back down your throat.

“And then,” Bakugou hissed, “If you perform like a good little maid, I may give you what you want when we get home. Maybe.”

You let out a shaky breath as he narrowed his eyes down to you, trying to read what you were feeling right now.

“Now you’re going to be my good little slutty maid and serve me until I’m satisfied, you fucking got that?”

As Bakugou’s grip on your neck loosened, your posture relaxed a bit as you nodded to his question, only for the grip to return as he growled down to you.

“Try again.”

Biting your lip your thighs attempted to squeeze against his knee for any sort of friction at all as any conscious thought was clouded with ashamed lust for the man before you.

“Y..Yes master.”

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou #bnha bakugou #maid cafe #maid cafe au #maid au #maid reader #maid cafe reader #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha #bnha #reader is a big ole brat #this kinda segsy tho #anyways enjoy

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gguksgalaxy · 5 years

Text

Inkling | JJK

Jungkook is your brother’s boyfriend’s co-worker, they own a tattoo and piercing parlour. In other words, he’s tall, gorgeous, has his passion literally etched into his skin, looks incredibly good in a man-bun, and is semi-unattainable for you. Why? Well…you’re not entirely sure but him ditching right after a very heated make-out session sure isn’t a good sign. His extremely poor mood the next week sure isn’t either, but the only way to fix it is to face the beast head-on. Right?

›› AU: Tattoo Artist ›› Genre: Smut / Angst ›› Rating: 18+ explicit sex ›› Pairing: JJK x Reader ›› Word Count: 17.7k Warnings Include: Lots of swearing, conflict, a false accusation of cheating on a third party (it’s nothing serious please trust me), Jungkook being a dick, the death of a coat hanger, mentions of internalised homophobia, fear of coming out, and unaccepting parents. Sexual content: rough (protected) sex, piercings, heavy petting, teasing (with and without other people around), lots of tongue action, cunnilingus, fingering, dirty talk, marking, nipple play, mentions of riding, blowjobs, and mxm sex. A/N: This one is for my beloved friend @xiubaek-13 who’s stood by me and my tumblr journey for over 3 years now. Our friend anniversary was last week, the 16th of January, so it’s a little late. But I hope you still love it. Remember, you gave me this idea, so you shall face the consequences. Enjoy <3

“Like, it’s so unfair,” you groan, arm slung over your face. “He kisses so well. I’m talking toe-curling, spine-arching, breathtakingly good. He really didn’t need to decorate his tongue with a gold medal to celebrate it.” You've replayed the events of Saturday night many times since it happened. The way Jungkook’s hands had slid under your shirt. Your thighs spread over his. Kissing, grabbing, moaning. It really wasn’t fair, the way his tongue pressed into your mouth and made you cave at the very first swipe. The first subtle brush of his golden tongue piercing against your lips. How he—

“Okay, please stop detailing me on what he can do with his tongue and get to the point. If this was just about his amazing tongue skills you wouldn’t be here right now. You’d be in his bed.” Hoseok grumbles. “So?” His back is turned to you as he motions for you to continue, busy cleaning his tattoo gun after he touched up your latest piece. A colourful design on the side of your breast and ribs.

It’s one of the reasons you find yourself here. Half your chest out at 8am in Hoseok’s tattoo shop, Inkling. The other reason is being able to vent about his best friend and colleague — Jungkook — without him actually being here.

Jungkook, who had kissed you like he meant it. Fingers sinking deep into the flesh of your thighs. Whose bun had come undone from the way your fingers had slid into his hair. The ink that covers his slightly tanned skin shifting to show defined muscles. The smirk he had every time he’d looked at you — quirking up the left corner of his mouth. His stupidly skilled tongue. The golden tongue piercing that adorns it.

He’d kissed you so hungrily — devoured you — and then he’d gotten up and ran out on you. Leaving you with no proper explanation or goodbye.

“I hate to break it to you, but you’ve got twenty minutes left to tell me what happened before I go pick him up. Get on with it.” Hoseok finally turns to face you again, grabbing the cream and film to finish up your tattoo. The deep-coloured mandala designs on his elbow shift as he does so. Like all of Hoseok’s tattoos, these are traditionally styled, more simple. Yet, there’s something about every one of his pieces that is uniquely him. Like the small red flower at the hollow of his throat that shifts as he speaks. “What’d he do to you?”

You groan again, lifting your arm a little to give him better access to your side. “I’m not entirely sure really. Like...One second we’re making out and the next he gets up and pushes me off.”

Smoothing the film over your side, he speaks without losing focus. “How drunk was he?” Hoseok isn’t normally this flat in his speech. His mood, much like yours, seems off today.

“Not all that drunk, seen him way worse.” You and Jungkook had both been tipsy, at most. Neither of you made it past more than three drinks before you were all over each other. Hands on bodies. Lips on necks.

It had been a long time coming. The two of you agonisingly ogling each other from a distance for months. That is, if you can call you nearly sitting in his lap every change you get ‘distance’. Even your brother Yoongi had firmly called you out to do something about the sexual tension. Last Saturday you had. It just didn’t go as planned.

Your friend chuckles suddenly.

“What?”

“Nothing, just a thought. Keep talking.”

“No, Jung. Spit it out.” Now that he’s done, you sit up to narrow your eyes at him.

He shrugs. “Maybe you’re just a bad kisser, I don’t know.”

You gasp. “I am no such thing.”

“I mean, I can’t attest to that. Facts only.” He again motions for you to continue as he gets up to clean some things. “He pushes you off and then what?”

Something about the way that Jungkook had looked at you when he pushed you off had stuck with you. Pain, confusion. No lust, no want, not even embarrassment. “He just left.”

“What do you mean he left?” Your friend’s eyebrows contort as he pulls off his gloves. They’re black just like the walls in the small shop. “Are you sure he wasn’t just — I don’t know — not that into it?”

You scowl. “I am not that bad of a kisser Hoseok! If the tent in his jeans had been anything to go by, I’d say it’s the opposite.”

Hoseok merely rolls his eyes, dusting off his ripped jeans and sitting down at the end of the chair that you're still lounging on. He runs a hand through his vibrant red hair.

Part of you just feels sick to your stomach. Both out of embarrassment, confusion and anxiety. Jungkook, Jimin, Taehyung and you had all gone to a club together, a normal Saturday night. It’s not uncommon for you and Jungkook to get a little handsy after a few drinks. Usually though, you’d be delightfully cockblocked by your brother, Yoongi.

You get it. Jungkook doesn’t want to make out with his friend’s little sister when he’s right there. Now that he finally got free reign, this happens.

Whatever ‘this’ even means. All you’ve been able to think about is that Jungkook knew what he was doing. His mouth, his hands, his body. Everything. He played you like a damn fiddle. The moan he’d let out at the first contact of your mouth to his still echoes in your ears. Deep, guttural relief.

Hoseok interrupts your train of thoughts, “and you haven’t seen him since he walked out on your apparently amazing make-out session?”

“It’s not like I ever see him on Sundays. Shop’s closed and Yoongi and I usually have a stay-in day.”

“Has he called?” Hoseok asks, quirking one dark eyebrow.

“No?”

“Texted?”

“Nope.”

He sighs, ruffling his own hair, foot tapping on the grey tiles of the floor. “Have you tried texting him? Calling him?” The accusatory tone in his voice twists your gut as you give him a sheepish grimace. “Y/N!”

“What?!” You look away, eyes focusing on anything but him. The off-white desks, Jungkook’s detailed artwork displayed on the opposite wall. The red of the door that leads into the back, or maybe the piercing display.

The chair creaks when Hoseok gets up. “I just thought that, since you’re a girl, you’d have a bit more sense when it comes to shit like this. But you and Yoongi really are one and the same.”

“Excuse me?” you spit, turning back to face him as you grab for your shirt to cover yourself up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Both of you are dense as fuck. You can’t always wait for the other person to act first.” The sharp tinge in Hoseok‘s voice hints at something else. Something unrelated to you and Jungkook. It must be related to your brother. After all, they’d been in a relationship for a little over half a year now. A rocky one. Something must’ve happened between them over the weekend. “Just,” he stops, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. “Jungkook will be here today, just ask hi—“

The bell that sounds as the door open drown out the sound of Hoseok’s playlist. It brings with it the sound of pouring rain. The tattoo artist immediately gets up to check. The shop isn’t open yet.

“Kook?!” Hoseok exclaims. “I told you I was coming to pick you up. You’re going to get sick like this. What were you thinking?” Concern laces his voice as he rushes over to his friend who’s still hidden from your view behind the velvet grey curtain. Hoseok lets out a few curses, caring personality getting the better of him. Always a listening ear, always ready to help. Sometimes, maybe a little too concerned. Jungkook seems to agree.

“I can take care of myself,” the younger grumbles. He trudges inside, entering the area where you’re currently sitting. Water is dripping down his leather jacket and black baseball cap onto the tile floor. He’s effectively soaked to the bone. Black jeans plastered to his thighs more than usual.

A sense of dread fills your veins when his eyes land on your still half-naked chest. Yes, Jungkook has seen you topless before. To pierce your nipple. Not randomly in the middle of his shop.

His dark gaze flickers between you and Hoseok. Jaw clenched tight, tongue pushing his cheek. “I have a change of clothes in the back.” His voice is nothing short of a sneer, as he drops his backpack by his station and walks off without another word.

“Yikes,” Hoseok whispers. “Are you sure you told me the entire story?”

You shoot him a glare. “Shut up before he fucking hears you. And call my brother,” you mumble, pulling your shirt over your head, “He’s not going to call you first. We both know that.”

With your shirt back on you feel a little more comfortable. But not comfortable enough to immediately go confront Jungkook.

“What did you two fight about anyway?” you question the redhead who’s currently bent over the laptop by the front desk.

Hoseok doesn’t look up, brown eyes lit by the screen. “Nothing you should be concerned about. You just worry about mister tongue medal. I can fix my own relationship problems.” The comment stings. Neither Hoseok nor Yoongi have ever been particularly open about their relationship. Even though you’re close with both.

“That was unnecessary.”

“I’m sorry.” He leans his head down. “Having all three of you in bad moods is just not doing any good for my own.” The tension in his body is evident as he straightens up. He slides a black folder your way. “How about you go make inventory from today’s shipment. I’ll try and talk to him during morning appointments.”

Inventory, great. Not the kind of work you thought you’d be doing when you offered to help them around the place. You want to protest, but he cuts you off.

“Listen, I know that you hate doing inventory. I know you don’t want to be here at all right now, but you promised to cover Tae’s position until we found someone else.” He’s right, you had offered to do that. In return for a tattoo, you would work their front desk whenever you have time between school and your actual, paying job. The desk was previously manned by Jungkook’s best friend Taehyung. He now works at an art gallery. A job he’s always dreamed of. “It’s not my fault you decided to make out with him,” Hoseok states. “Okay? Now go.”

“I know, I’m going.”

There’s no way for you to miss Jungkook as you round the corner. Tanned skin and tattoos shift as he shakes his wet hair. The crow and moon tattoo on his upper back stand out starkly. Dark, like most of his tattoos. You’ve seen it before, it’s always peeking up from the collar of his shirt. The floral pattern that peeks up from the waistband of his jeans is new to you though. It curves over his lower back and hips. You wonder how deep it goes.

The fabric of his clean shirt drapes down and hides everything from your view. It snaps you out of your thoughts quickly enough for you to slip into the storage room quickly enough before he spots you.

Your gut wrenches with nerves. Avoidance, great. Probably not the best way to solve this. Certainly not the fastest. But then again, talking this out while Hoseok is right there is inconsiderate. It’ll have to wait.

You’ll just spend the rest of your morning thinking about nothing else but Jungkook. The anger in his eyes a few minutes ago, the feeling of his tongue, and shipments. Fun.

Your butt hits the floor as you open the folder. The room is dusty, even with the lights on you struggle to read Hoseok’s jagged handwriting. For someone who draws so well you’d expect something at least semi-legible. Regardless, you can’t focus to begin with.

You and Jungkook have been running in circles ever since that one time when he pierced your nipple. Cliché, but it is what it is. You remember the risky touches and how turned on you’d been. Until he actually pierced you. That had been the most painful thing you ever experienced.

It’s been over a year since Jimin, Yoongi’s coworker, introduced the two of you to Hoseok and Jungkook. Now, everyone in your close circle of friends knows that there’s a lot of unresolved sexual tension between you and the youngest. Sadly, neither of you have acted on it. That’s as much your own fault as it is Jungkook’s. Not to speak of the fact that you’ve been interested in him ever since you first laid eyes on him. An entire year, and you did nothing about it.

In that time, Jimin started dating Taehyung. The guy who worked Inkling’s front desk. And your brother has started dating Hoseok. Something Yoongi had only recently told Jungkook about.

That had been a bit of an unfortunate situation. As much as you had assured Yoongi that Jungkook would not bat an eye if he came out to him, he just kept pushing it off. The way your parents had treated him when he told them he was gay made a deep impact on him. It’s a wound you don’t think will ever truly heal. Your parents’ harsh reaction was the reason he moved out at the young age of sixteen. That same reason caused you to show up at his doorstep a few years later. To live with him. Support him.

You and Yoongi have always been close. It’s why he knows about your crush on Jungkook. It’s why you’ve kept Yoongi’s secret from everyone for so long. He’d been especially on guard when he thought Jungkook had already found out a few weeks ago. Apparently Jungkook had suspected something, asked Taehyung about it, who told Jimin, who came to Yoongi. Your brother had then turned into a hysterical mess.

That situation is over now. And somehow you’ve magically created another one out of thin air. You think about this as you count the packages of dyes, gloves, masks, and other various things you’ve no clue what they’re used for. It’s just a little tricky to match the official descriptions to Jungkook’s incoherent labels and abbreviations. Boxes labeled guns, pricklers, and clamps most certainly weren’t what you were looking for. Those are all related to Jungkook’s piercing practice.

When Hoseok and Jungkook set up the shop three years ago it had taken the younger an entirety of a year to convince his friend to let him start piercing. Hoseok’s slightly irrational fear of piercings made a poor argument. Especially since tattooing involves a needle. Something about the puncturing of skin or whatever. Jungkook had eventually won.

Your phone rings, pulling you out of your thoughts. “What the...” you mutter as you see Taehyung’s name pop up on the screen. Taehyung never calls you. The two of you don’t even talk outside of the group.

Picking up, you lean against one of the shelves. “Hey Tae, everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” There’s a loud yawn on the other end followed by the unmistakable sound of a car door closing. He must be about to get into work. “I’m calling about Jungkook.”

Heart rate picking up, you await his following words.

“I’m not sure what exactly happened, but you probably know more about it than I do.” His voice trails off, faintly lined with anger.

“Is this about Saturday?” you ask, hoping for a no.

Taehyung is silent for a few beats, “I mean, I thought the two of you finally fucked after we couldn’t find you two. Jimin and I scouted the entire place, you were nowhere to be found. He’s called you three times since, and you haven’t gotten back to him. What happened?”

You mentally curse yourself for not calling Jimin back. He’d be way easier to talk to than an aggravated Taehyung.

“I'll rephrase my question,” he says upon your lack of answer. “Yesterday Jungkook came to ours at eight in the morning. He was really fucking distraught and I want to know if you have anything to do with it?”

“Tae...” you hesitate, unsure of what to tell him. The tone of his voice isn’t making it easy for you to choose your words. You know he has a temper. He won’t just forgive you if you hurt Jungkook, he’d do anything to protect him.

“Don’t ‘Tae’ me, you’re not Jimin. It doesn’t work when you do it. You can’t blame me for looking out for Jungkook when he was so upset.”

You really do understand where he’s coming from. Before he and Jimin had gotten steady enough to move in together, Taehyung had been crashing on Jungkook and Hoseok’s couch for months after a series of complicated events. The details had been kept from you, but it involved Taehyung severing ties with a gang he’d been involved in. It hadn’t gone as planned, and Jungkook had to make sure he would get back up on both feet. He made sure he had a roof over his head and food to eat. The entire ordeal had completely passed you by until Jungkook mentioned it to you when he was drunk on your couch one night a few weeks ago.

“Y/N?” he pushes

“I know, I know. Just give me the space to fix this, okay? I have as much of an idea as to what’s going on as you do.” You rub your eyes, trying to stave off the nerves. “I’ll talk to him today, I promise.”

The other’s car engine revs in the background. “Did you know he was upset?”

You bite your lip. “Sort of.”

“And you didn’t think to call him?”

“I’m sorry, okay?”

“I’m not the one you should be apologising to.” The way the words fall from his lips make tears appear in the corners of your eyes. What if Taehyung was right? What if you had read all the signs wrong? What if Jungkook didn’t like you? Had you messed up? Pushed him too far? “I’ve known Jungkook since we were kids. He puts up a strong front and you know it. He manages to scare off enough people by merely looking at them. But we’re all aware that he doesn’t look at you the same way. He’s more sensitive than he lets on.” Taehyung’s voice remains neutral, but his words still sting.

You find yourself sliding down the shelves and onto the floor. Fighting the tears increasingly getting harder as Taehyung’s words cause your mind to reach for places that it shouldn’t. Jungkook is more than just a hot guy who wears a manbun and has too many piercings for you to count. He’s more than a guy you want to fuck. You like him, as a person.

“Just let me talk to him, okay? I haven’t had a chance yet.” There’s not much else to tell him. You know that he’s not going to take your side. If you really hurt Jungkook you wouldn’t forgive yourself either. “I never intended to upset him.” The thought that you might’ve pushed Jungkook too far feels wholly irrational, but you can’t get it out of your head anymore.

Taehyung’s silence threatens to make your thoughts spiral again. When he speaks you’re almost relieved. “To be honest, I don’t want to turn this into a huge thing before my ten hour shift.” Your heart sinks. “I’ve got to go, let me know how it goes.”

He hangs up without another word, leaving you with guilt settling heavily in your stomach. This entire situation is messed up. You vividly remember Jungkook pulling you in, capturing your mouth with his. He’s the one who shifted you into his lap, who made you his. It can’t just have been your imagination. Maybe this wasn’t even related to you.

You just hope that whatever it is that caused him to react this way, is something you can fix. An apology should be the start. Taehyung was right.

A knock on the door startles you. “Are you alive?” Hoseok calls, opening the door. He frowns upon seeing your slouched form on the floor. Phone lying between your legs. “You know that if you want to take a break, you can just come up to the front, right?”

You shake your head. “Taehyung called.”

Hoseok helps you up, brushing some dust off the back of your shirt. “Everything okay?”

“Ha, no.” You let out a dry chuckle that’s merely there to cover up your obvious nerves. “Taehyung seemed pretty angry.”

“Eh, he always does. He’s just overprotective of Jungkook, Jimin’s not gonna let him actually rip you a new one. Don’t worry, it’ll be okay.” Hoseok speaks gently as he grabs the binder off the floor. “Did you finish?”

You nod. “Just unsure of where everything goes.” There’s still a few open boxes in the back.

“That’s okay. I’ll put them into place later.”

“Hobi?” you ask as he opens the door.

He hums an affirmative.

“What if Jungkook didn’t want to kiss me?”

There’s a brief silence, Hoseok turning around with the most confused look on his face as he observes you. “I’m sorry but what did Taehyung say to you? I swear that I have no idea what’s going on but I can assure you that Jungkook not wanting you is the least of your problems.” He lets out a laugh.

“Okay,” you mumble, a little hurt that he’s laughing at it. But he’s probably right. Jungkook’s lingering touches, his purposeful stares, that little thing he does with his tongue piercing that drives you insane. “Did you call my brother yet?”

Hoseok nods, moving to his messy station. “He’s supposed to bring over lunch. All’s good, I promise.” He ruffles your hair and you swat at his arm. Maybe he’s getting a little too comfortable around you. He might be dating your brother, but that doesn’t give him the right to do that. Only Yoongi is allowed to ruffle your hair. Sometimes.

Back in the front area, Jungkook is finishing up a tattoo on someone’s leg. The man’s lying on his stomach, seemingly quiet. Just how you know Jungkook prefers his sessions. He doesn’t talk much when he’s working, finds it easier to concentrate this way. For a moment you let yourself stare. Eyes gliding over the dip in his back and his messy hair. The way it’s pushed back shows off his eyebrow piercing.

Many have claimed him to be intimidating. If it isn’t for the multitude of piercings in his face and ears, then it’d be the way his arms and shoulders are covered in ink. Or his facial expressions. There’s something about the way his brows furrow and his jaw sets just right, that tends to make the sixteen year old girls who come to get their belly buttons pierced regret their decisions. You on the other hand, can’t get enough of him like this.

Where Jungkook is all black — tattoos, clothes and hair — Hoseok is brighter. The other’s red hair and deep-coloured tattoos speak for his personality. He’s more outgoing, more open. And unfortunately, more obnoxious at times. Right now you get a good look at the fox tattoo that covers his left thigh. It peaks out through one of the arguably too big holes in his jeans. He definitely picked them out on purpose.

When you turn back to look at Jungkook, your eyes meet his and you’re not prepared. A lump forms in your throat as his eyes seem stone cold. There’s no smirk, no flirtatious glint. Nothing but what could only be described as anger. “What?” he asks, voice nearly a sneer.

You startle at the harshness, mumbling a quiet ‘nothing’ before deciding to just go to the front desk.

The man leaves before your lunch arrives, and at this point you really are starting to get hungry. Jungkook yet again disappears without a word, probably to the lightbox to draw something. Or he’s smoking a cigarette out back. A nasty, nervous habit of his.

Hoseok’s busy doing work on his laptop, when finally, your lunch arrives. It’s just not Yoongi, but Jimin who’s carrying it inside.

“Hey, a little help would be welcome,” Jimin groans as he pushes open the door with his shoulder. Both you and Hoseok scramble up to help before he spills the coffee all over the floor. “Thanks. Yoongi got stuck doing God knows what, so I’m bringing food in his name.” He smiles, lifting your mood as easily as ever. No matter what’s going on, Jimin’s presence is always soothing and bright.

Yoongi had first met the blonde when he started dishwashing at a local restaurant. Now both him and Jimin are leading staff and close friends.

Jimin looks around the shop. “Where’s Kook?”

You suck in your cheek, meeting Jimin’s suspicious gaze. “He’s holed up in the back.”

Jimin’s eyes shift from you to Hoseok, contemplating speaking up.

“You can say it,” you say blandly, “Hoseok knows.”

“Did you talk to him yet?” he whisper-yells. “You’re so lucky I didn’t tell on your ass to Tae. But the next time you ditch me and ignore my calls I will not hesitate to kick your ass myself.”

“What?”

Jimin’s face changes into a glance you know all too well. That specific one which says; are you fucking kidding me? “Do you really think that I didn’t see you and Mr. I don’t wanna fuck Yoongi’s sister, sucking face in the corner?” Your cheeks heat up. “I mean, we all knew he was lying. But that’s not the point.” Jimin presses a finger in your chest. “My point is that the next time the two of you leave to exchange something more than saliva, at least send me a text.” Jimin’s tone is highly accusatory, but he doesn’t seem upset. That’s probably just because he doesn’t know what’s going on. His hand goes into one of the bags, fishing out a pale muffin for himself to eat.

Hoseok coughs, setting his decaf latte back on the desk. “I hate to break it to you Jimin, but that’s not the actual story.”

You want to slap him for exposing you like that. Reaching behind the counter you turn the music up so you can tell Jimin who’s waiting with wide eyes. “Jungkook and I didn’t go home together,” you confess.

“Please don’t tell me you fucked in the ba—“

“JIMIN!” You shove him lightly. “Just — no, okay? We made out and he bolted on me,” you whisper.

Jimin cocks an eyebrow. “That would...explain a lot but also nothing at the same time. Jungkook was pretty out of it yesterday. I mean, he gets like that from time to time, but still. My bet was on the sex being bad. Or like — I don’t know — you saying his dick was small.”

“Okay, okay! We get it!” you hush.

“Get what?” Jungkook’s voice suddenly sounds from behind you.

You still, stopping yourself from immediately turning around and meeting his probably cold eyes. Part of you want to say something, anything. But you can’t find the words. Especially when he comes close enough for you to feel the heat of his body radiate to your back. His chest grazes your shoulders as he grabs his drink and food from the desk.

“She and Yoongi had a falling out this morning,” Hoseok says calmly, the saviour of your day. “Nothing big.”

Jimin smiles at Jungkook, but it’s not returned. “Hot chocolate, no whip, one shot of espresso.”

Nothing more than a barely-audible thanks follows. He runs his fingers through his fringe, hair now pulled up in a bun again, before he leaves to continue whatever he was doing.

“Are you really that bad at kissing?” Jimin whispers, making you shove him again.

“Shut up, not you too. This is serious, keep your nosy ass out of it.”

Jimin gasps in offense. “You better remember who brings you lunch.” You roll your eyes. “Also, can I talk to you guys about Tae’s birthday present?”

You hoist yourself onto the desk, nodding as you finally bite into your own muffin.

“Of course, it’s not like any of us know what to get him,” Hoseok adds.

Jimin sighs a little. “He keeps saying that he doesn’t want anything. But I know that isn’t true. It’s just that the one thing he really wants is expensive and I can’t afford it on my own.” The slight tremble to his voice gives him away. He loves Taehyung, would do anything for him. You know that Hoseok would be here to help, so are you. “He has a tattoo, he wants to get it covered up. But Jungkook’s told him that he has to get it laser-treated first because it's pretty big and dark. I looked it up and it’s not cheap. I just don’t want you guys to think that I’m taking advantage of you or something. I just...”

Hoseok pipes up before Jimin can even properly finish. “I’m sure that if we all chip in it’ll be good. Plus, Jungkook and I would totally do the cover-up for free. It’s gonna hurt, but it’ll be worth it. You agree, Y/N?”

You nod. You've never seen Taehyung's tattoo, and you know Jimin's not going to go into details, but you understand him wanting to get rid of it. It's his last tie to his past. “Yeah, I’ll chip in. Just send us how much it is and we’ll figure it out Jimin.”

Jimin just about bursts at the seams from happiness. He hugs both of you so tight, whispering a dozen thank you’s as he does. “It’ll mean so much to him!” His eyes flicker to the clock. “By the way, before I go. Hoseok, have you and Yoongi finally told Jungkook about the two of you fucking and all?”

Hoseok grimaces. “We’re dating, Jimin. Stop putting it like that.”

“Potato, potato.”

“We didn’t tell him,” Hoseok confesses.

“What?” You and Jimin say at the same time.

Hoseok sighs, running his fingers through his hair. “Yoongi got cold feet. Again.”

Jimin is silent, brows furrowing before his lips part in realisation. “Oh...OH!” He almost starts laughing. “I know what’s going on here. I see, I see.”

You frown at him, looking at Hoseok for an answer but he seems equally confused.

“Girl, you gotta talk to Jungkook. This? It’s all a huge misunderstanding. Just talk to him, you’ll be fine. Trust me.” The giggle in his voice makes you a little angry. He could just tell you, but he’s halfway out the door before you even get the chance to ask. “Also, you,” he says pointing at Hoseok, “make sure you tell Jungkook about you and Yoongi before he finds out like me and Tae. Meaning with you three knuckles deep in Yoongi’s ass.”

“Okay!” Hoseok calls, somewhat flustered as he gets up. “You’ve said enough for today, don’t you have customers to yell at?”

Jimin laughs, giving you one more glance. “If you and you-know-who end up having some r-rated sessions, please use protection.”

“OUT!” you and Hoseok yell in unison, causing Jimin to quickly slip away before you can properly shove him out the door yourself.

Jimin really seemed to be one step ahead of you, and you hate it. Though his gut was usually right so maybe you should trust him that it’ll all be okay. Hoseok said the same thing after all.

The rest of your day goes by fairly smoothly. A few walk-ins but nothing special. Jungkook quietly works with his back to you, and Hoseok does his best to start some sort of conversation. It dead-ends each time.

When Hoseok is getting ready to leave, your nerves feel like they’re going to burst from your body. Literally. You don’t know if you can do this. Talk to Jungkook. He’s been stone cold the entire day, not a single word where it wasn’t absolutely necessary. You’ve never seen him like this, even Hoseok started to become a victim of his wrath. Jungkook started snapping at him too, causing the elder to just leave him be after a while.

“Listen,” Hoseok says, “I’m going to go, here’s my key in case you need it. Talk to him. Tell me how it goes.”

You whine. “Hobi...”

“No, you’re doing this. I refuse to work with him like this for another fucking second. Just talk. It’s probably nothing.” His voice is stern, and he opens the door to leave. “If it really goes south you can yell at me later. But you have to try.” he goes, leaving you behind in the empty shop unknowingly of what to do.

It can’t be that bad, right? Your hands tremble as you try to take a deep breath. What are you so afraid of? Jungkook rejecting you? Maybe...It would hurt. Everyone would be surprised, that’s for sure. There’s been something oddly specific about how he treats you, looks at you. Jimin’s often referred to it as ‘looking at each other as if you were going to fuck right then and there’.

You take another deep breath. The only way to face the beast is head-on right? Jungkook isn’t gonna hurt you. Worst he could do is yell at you. You can handle that. Right?

With shaking legs you walk into the back, thoughts still running rampant. He’s not at his station. The black chair empty, grey desk neatly cleaned with the dyes organised by colour. Hoseok could take from that.

“Why are you still here?” Jungkook’s voice startles you.

A shiver runs down your spine, the deep drawl echoing in your mind. “I want to talk.” Your voice wavers slightly.

He gives you no chance to face him, scoffing as he walks past you. Not even a glance in your direction. He gathers his pencils that have rolled onto the floor, placing them neatly back on the desk. The black koi fish tattoo on his right shifts as he does. It matches the white one on the left. Yin and Yang, separated. His movements are rough, and he’s rushing through it. Trying to get away.

“Well?” he questions. “Are you going to talk or not?”

The harshness in his voice has you stunned for a moment. “I-I...Jungkook I’m really sorry if I did anything to upset you. I’m not sure what’s going through your mind but, if this is because you didn’t want to kiss me the—“

Jungkook’s hand make a harsh sound as they connect with the surface of the desk. “Is this a game to you?” He looks at you — glares. Angers rolls off his shoulders that are coiled tight

“What?”

“You heard me,” he all but growls. “Do you think this is a joke?” Jungkook looks away, eyes closing with a deep, barely-controlled breath. It shudders through him.

Your hands are clenched tightly, they ache to touch him. To smooth down over the expanse of his back in an attempt to comfort him. “If I thought this was funny I wouldn’t be here trying to talk to you.”

“Fuck.” The words fall from his lips right before his teeth sink into them. His fingers squeak over the desk’s surface. When he looks up at you, you expect to see the anger. The disgust. However, you don’t expect it to be in the shape of tears glistening in his eyes as he struggles to even look at you for more than a few seconds. “Stop being like this, okay? We both know that what we did was wrong. It’s eating me alive and you know what — I can’t deal with it any longer.” Jungkook reaches for his bag, slinging it over his shoulder with so much force it collides with his back. Yet, you don’t miss the tremble in his other hand. “I’m giving you one day to tell him. Otherwise I’ll do it myself.”

You frown, quickly following him towards the front. “Is this about Yoongi?”

Jungkook stops in his tracks, causing you to almost bump into him. “Yoongi?” He’s seething with anger. It’s hot, burning your skin and making your throat constrict. “I’m talking about us nearly fucking while you’re obviously in a relationship with Hoseok.”

Silence. Minutes seem to tick by as you take in his words. “What?”

A last time, he turns. The look he gives you is nothing short of pure, unfiltered disgust. “You know what? I’m so done with you.” He shakes his head. “You know I like you, everyone knows it. And we were both wrong here. But I can’t cope with the fact that I had my best friend’s girlfriend moaning in my lap two nights ago.” Jungkook’s words are painfully sharp, but they don’t seem to only affect you. He’s hurting himself unnecessarily. “If he hates me after this that’s fine, but someone has to tell him.”

“Kook,” you try, tears brimming your own eyes. But he doesn’t hear you.

“It’s bad enough that everyone seemed to know about you two except for me. And if you were trying to protect me then I can try to understand, but I can see the signs you know? I’m not fucking blind. Hoseok’s always going home with you. He spends three nights a week at your apartment at the very least. And even around here the two of you have gotten disgustingly close. Hell, Y/N, you were half naked in here with him before business hours as if it’s the most normal thing. I don’t even want to entertain the idea of the two of you fucking in here. This isn’t r—“

“STOP!” you yell, hands coming up to cover your ears. “Just, stop!”

Jungkook’s mouth snaps shut as he stares at you. Your mind is going a hundred miles an hour. He thinks you and Hoseok are together. Jungkook thinks that you and Hoseok are dating, because Yoongi never told him that he's the one dating Hoseok. That it’s his bed Hoseok is sleeping it. Yoongi never even told him that he’s into guys. Jungkook has no reason to entertain the idea of you not being the reason that Hoseok was over at your apartment. He went with the logical option. That you and Hoseok are an item.

“It’s...”

You want to tell him. It’d be an easy way out to tell him Yoongi is dating Hoseok. That Hoseok wasn't sleeping in your bed. But you can’t do that to your brother. You can’t out him, it’s wrong. The only chance you can take is hoping Jungkook will believe your word.

“I’m not dating Hoseok,” you say as calmly as you can.

He scoffs, loud. Nostrils flaring as he reaches for the door handle.

Fingers circling around his other arm, you stop him. Causing him to quickly shrug you off as if you’d burnt him.

“Don’t fucking touch me. It’s bad enough we did this. I don’t need you lying to me about it.”

You shake your head, almost reaching out for him again in your panic. “Just...hear me out. If you really like me as much as you say. If you believe that I like you too. Hear me out.” There’s one other way out of this. One other person he would believe. “Please Jungkook?”

Jungkook’s eyes meet yours. He wavers. Caves. “Fine.”

Relief floods your veins, and you sink back against the counter. “Okay, I’m going to call Hoseok.” You grab your phone from your pocket, fingers sliding over the screen shakily. “Just—“

“Absolutely fucking not.”

“HEY!” you call, causing him to startle. “You’re sitting your fucking ass down. It’s not my fault that you’re not willing to believe me and decided to get worked up over some imaginary scenario.” Your voice is barely a growl but it pushes him enough to finally get his hand off the doorknob. “Sit. The fuck. Down.”

He swallows thickly, and your chest heaves with anger. To your surprise, he actually slumps down onto the couch without another word.

“I’m gonna call Hobi, and you’re gonna keep your mouth shut until I’m finished.” No words come from him, but the scowl on his face says enough. Hoseok’s picture pops up with you dial him, and you take the time to steady yourself. This has to work.

“Did you two finally figure out your bullshit?” Hoseok asks the second he picks up.

The nerve. “You gotta help me out here.” You hold the phone steady, putting him on speaker as you look straight at the man across from you while speaking. “Do you remember when I explicitly told you this morning — in all glorious details — about Jungkook and I making out?”

There’s a clear shift in Jungkook’s expression. Eyebrows raising ever so slightly. His red bitten lips parting.

“Yes — Wait,” Hoseok stumbles. “Am I on speaker? Why am I on speaker? I want no part in this!”

“Hobi!” He needs to listen to you and help. “Please just tell your friend that you and I are not fucking.”

The first sound that comes from the other end of the line is a loud snort. Followed by hysterical laughter. “Oh. My. God.” This situation isn't funny to you nor Jungkook, but you suppose that Hoseok comes across very authentic like this. One day you’ll probably laugh about this too. “Jungkook, sweetheart,” he laughs. “You really gone and cockblocked yourself because you thought I was dating her?”

Jungkook's eyes are now wide with confusion, body sunk deeply into the leather couch as his gaze is unfocused. “You’re...not?”

“No offense to Y/N,” Hoseok says with laughter still ringing his voice, “but absolutely not.”

“None taken,” you state dryly, “thank you.”

Your eyes follow Jungkook as he stands up slowly, leaving his bag on the couch. His tongue presses into his cheek, running under his top lip where you know he hides one of his many piercings. The change in his body language is evident, and you shiver as he looks at you.

Hoseok sighs dramatically. “No problem. I’m getting used to saving your guys’ day. Now can you two please fuck out your frustrations so that I can work and live in peace. Use protection. Cheers!”

The line ends before you can say another word to him. When you finally glance up at Jungkook again, he’s closer than you thought.

He stands barely a foot away, eyes curiously meeting yours. Scanning your face for any type of reaction, waiting. His hands hang limp by his side, shoulder no longer bunched but...Something about him is still taut. “You’re not dating Hoseok?” he asks, voice unexpectedly deep.

“No,” you breathe softly, unable to look away from him. From this angle you can see his eyebrow piercing where it hides under his fringe. You can see his eyes darken too.

“You’re single?” His tongue darts out to wet his lips, a quick flash of gold.

You swallow thickly. “Yes.”

Jungkook steps that much closer, toes bumping yours as he lowers his face. His breathing is heavy, chest almost brushing yours as he corners you against the desk. “And I can have you?”

“All yours.”

Everything is forgotten from there. Jungkook’s hands fly up to cup your face, tilting you up so he can capture your mouth with his. You groan, deeply relieved at the contact. Jungkook has no reservations. No, within seconds you find yourself with one of his thighs snugly between yours and his tongue pushing past your lips.

Fuck. The feeling of his piercing pressing against your tongue still takes you by surprise. You shiver with excitement. Your fingers grapple for purchase at his shoulders.

Jungkook moans, a sound that’s silenced by you kissing him back. It’s messy, you can feel his heart hammer in his chest and yours is no different. As he explores your mouth with his tongue, your fingers tug his shirt from his jeans. You graze the warm skin of his waist and back.

As his hands grab your hips possessively, your toes curl. There’s no time to breathe. All you can manage is a pathetic whimper when Jungkook bites down on your lip and runs his tongue across it. Kissing him is oddly foreign, in the most delicious way.

Diving in again, Jungkook grants you more leverage to kiss him back. One of your hands slide into his hair, reaching on your tiptoes to do so. There’s a brief smile from him. Followed by him hoisting you up on the counter without breaking the kiss. No, you’re too busy tracing the piece of jewellery in his mouth as it clacks against your teeth.

It’s wet. Sloppy. And you’re certain that it’s noisy. But all you can hear right now is the rushing of your heart and the rough sounds that come from him. He parts your thighs, pressing himself right up against your centre and — fuck. It’s just right, the way he presses the seam of your jeans into you.

Your mouth falls from him, unable to stave off your air for any longer. Jungkook seems unfazed, tongue tracing your bottom lip to break the string of saliva that connected you. “Kook,” you breathe heavily.

He smirks, nosing along your cheekbone as your nails digging into his back. Tantalised, you hold your breath. Expecting the harsh graze of his teeth just below your jaw. You know it’ll mark, especially when he presses his lips over the same sport and suckles at it until you're shaking in his hold.

By now his hands have slipped under your shirt, fingers digging into your bare waist. His fingertips are rough, like everything about him but his lips. They’re soft and you hate it. He shouldn’t be allowed to kiss you like this.

Still, you let him kiss back up to your lips. You moan into him. The way he passes any of the kisses and hesitation. He licks into your mouth like you’ve been doing this for ages. Tongue gliding along yours, making you want more. You will need it, when he parts. Ache for his mouth again as you pull him unimaginably closer.

A moan falls from both of you as you grind down, and somehow it pulls you back to reality. The reality where you’re sitting on the front desk of the shop. Right by the windows. Where everyone can see.

The reality where Jungkook yelled at you mere minutes ago.

“Jungkook,” you whisper against his mouth. A shiver rakes through your body when he moves to kiss your neck. “Jungkook, stop.”

Those words stop him immediately. He looks up. “Everything okay?” His chest rises and falls against yours.

You nod, placing your hands firmly on his chest. The accidental brush of your palm against one of his piercing causes his breath to hitch. “Just,” you eyes flicker between where he stands between your legs and the large, open windows, “maybe we shouldn’t...you know?”

Jungkook’s hands smooth down your arms, sending goosebumps in his wake. “This is not the part where I tell you we can go to the back. Is it?”

“No,” you whisper.

When his hands fall from your body, you feel cold, empty. You reach for him, grabbing him by the wrist. “Hey, I want this. But maybe we need to let everything cool down a little.”

He looks at you over his shoulder, lips swollen, hair a mess. “Yeah.” His voice is firm, paired with a deep sigh. “Yeah, I’m sorry. For getting so mad at you, I should’ve asked before making assumptions.”

A smile tugs at your lips. You hop off the counter, leaning up to press your lips against his. “It’s alright. No hard feelings.” saying that, you feel relieved from all the tension. Knowing that Jungkook wants you — likes you — makes your stomach flutter.

“Can I get a ride?” Jungkook grimaces at the pouring rain. “I don’t want to get soaked again.”

“Yeah of course, silly.”

To be honest, it was a futile attempt. Both of you don’t make it to the car with a single dry inch on your body. You just hope it’s not going to ruin your seats, that’d be an expensive joke.

Jungkook coughs when you start the engine, shifting in his seat uncomfortably. You turn to give him a look, but there’s no way for you to miss the obvious erection he's sporting.

“Are you really hard right now?”

“I’m still hard, for your information.” He groans, letting his head fall back. “It’ll go away.” The smile that stretches over his lips it too telling. “Or you can help me.” It’s barely a mumble but you can catch it.

“Jungkook!” you spit.

“I know, I know.”

There’s a calm mood in your apartment, Yoongi’s music softly emanating from his room next to yours. Not a single fibre in your body wants to have this conversation with him. Not again. But you have to. Even if it’s for the fact that you need to let him know he doesn’t have to lie to you about these things. That you’re not disappointed in him.

“Hey, you’re home late. I was starting to get worried about you.” Yoongi appears from his room, already dressed in black sweats and an oversized grey sweater. “Everything okay?”

You want to nod, but choose not to. “Can we talk?”

He freezes up, fingers clenching into fists. “Why?”

Because you lied to me. Because you didn’t tell Jungkook and it almost ruined my chances with him as a result. “Just please sit, so we can talk. I promise I’m not mad at you, Yoon.” The nickname seems to be enough incentive for him to nod and take a hesitant seat at your small dining table.

You sit across from him, chest heavy and uncertain of whether this is the right moment to do this. He nervously traces the pattern of the worn down, brown table, his sleeve tattoo peeking out as he does.

“Yoongi, why did you lie to me about coming out to Jungkook?”

Abruptly, he stills. “Did Hobi tell you?”

“How I found out doesn’t matter right now okay. I just want to know why you weren’t honest about it with me.” You watch your older brother as he avoids your gaze. He sinks back into his chair and purses his lips.

Part of you feels like hugging him, telling him it’s okay. But it’s not. Not really. Your brother has been through so much, and you understand this is hard for him. That your parents basically casting him out is why he is so afraid that everybody will reject him. But logically he should know that Jungkook won’t care that he’s gay. Taehyung is, and they’ve been friends for almost their entire lives. Hoseok and Jimin as bi. Jungkook might be the straightest guy you know, but that doesn’t say much.

“Yoongi, I’m not mad at you. You can be honest with me, I want to help.”

“I’m scared,” he says, very matter-of-factly. “I’m scared. That’s it. I don’t have any other real excuse.”

“That’s not an excuse, Yoongi. It’s a legitimate reason for not telling him, regardless of how often Hoseok and I have told you there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Yoongi shakes his head, black hair falling into his eyes. Still, he avoids your gaze. “I was scared that you’d be disappointed. That’s why I haven’t told you.”

“Yoongi...” Your heart aches for him. Even through this, your brother has always been the bravest person you know. He’s built what he has from nothing. He was merely sixteen when he moved out, barely had a degree. You were just eighteen when you showed up on his doorstep unannounced with a suitcase and a request to move in with him. He’d fought so hard to make ends meet for both of you until you’d found a job. Yoongi’s always fought for you. You just wish he’d fight for himself too. “I would never be disappointed with you. Ever.”

He finally looks at you, tears showing at the corners of his eyes. They shine regardless, as he look at you as if you’re his only lifeline. “Don’t you want me to tell him?”

You take Yoongi’s hand from where it lies limply on the table. The small sun tattoo stands out against the bare skin of his wrist. It matches the moon on yours.

Rubbing you finger over his tattoo, you speak to him softly: “I do want you to tell him, but not for me. Or for Hoseok. I want you to tell him for yourself. Once you’ve told him I think you will feel much better. You and Hobi won’t have to hide anymore, and you’ll all be able to be comfortable around each other.” You squeeze his hand. “It’ll give you strength, Yoongi. Telling people instead of letting them find out.”

A tear slips from his eyes, and you hold your breath awaiting his answer. This is why you’ve always looked up to Yoongi. He’s not afraid to show his emotions to those he trusts, even if he trusts a very small number of people. Yoongi is the one who showed you that it’s okay to not be okay, hence the moon tattoo on your own wrist. He has the sun, to signify that you’re the brightness in his days. Or well, that’s how he said it.

“Will you go with me?” he asks. “To tell him?”

It might not be the greatest idea, especially since you and Jungkook are in whatever situation you are in now. But also because this is technically not something that concerns you. If he wants you to go, you’ll go, but there’s a better choice. “I think you should ask Hoseok. That way you can kill two birds with one stone.”

“You really think so?”

You nod.

He takes a deep breath, grabbing your hand and squeezing it in return. “Thank you. For always being here to remind me of how stupid I am.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t put it like that,” you chuckle.

Yoongi rolls his eyes. “You were thinking it.”

“You’re deflecting.”

“Am not!”

“Are too, Yoongi. It’s a bad habit.”

“It’s a bad habit,” he mocks with a scrunched up face. “Whatever, I’ll call Hoseok tonight.”

You smile. “Promise?”

“On one condition.”

With both eyebrows raised you await his condition that will most likely make you want to strangle him. You know your brother. His requests are never to make you comfortable. If anything he’s relentlessly able to tease you just enough to make you want to murder him, but not enough to actually justify it. A skill to behold.

“Please tell me whether you coming home an hour late and that disgustingly obvious hickey on your neck are in any way related.”

Your stomach jumps at his comment, hand immediately covering the spot under your ear where Jungkook had laid his claim. “I...”

He gives you a knowing look. If one thing was true about Yoongi it’s that he knows you, through and through. You and him are like peas in a pod and sadly there’s not much wiggle room in said pod. Said pod left no space for you to hide your obvious attraction to his friend.

“Oh God, Y/N,” Yoongi gives you a disgusted look. “No. Not at the shop. I know that Hoseok and Jungkook clean that place religiously, but still. I sit on those stools too! You heathens.”

Your face is red hot as you try to find the words before he can get any more ideas. “We — no, we didn’t fuck, okay. Please just calm down.”

Yoongi sighs, a breath of relief. “Good, because like — I’ve eaten at those tables. I don’t need to accidentally touch Jungkook’s lefto—“

“OKAY! I get it, I get it! We didn’t fuck. I swear.”

“Wait. Not at all?”

“Nope.”

He groans, throwing his head back. “Does that mean I need to sit through another week of gruelling sexual tension. Do I really need to be subjected to this another week? Like I have an actual fear that the two of you will at one point climb over the table and devour each other while I’m right there!”

You get up. “Okay, this conversation is over.” Honestly, you would tell him what actually happened this afternoon. About Jungkook thinking you cheated on Hoseok. But telling your brother that will just make him fear that Jungkook’s already figured out that him and Hoseok are together. “It’s your day to cook today, by the way.”

Then, he pouts. “Hey, no! I was sad today, can’t you cook? I deserve comfort food!” As a grown man, your brother’s ability to whine about little things is slightly concerning. But he will only do so at his advantage. No, whenever a time comes that Min Yoongi must adult on you, he will be an adult. And when he wants things from you, he will whine.

“Not after you called me a heathen,” you sing-song. A kiss to the top of his head and a ruffle to his already messy hair is enough to send him into a fit.

“I’m older than you! Only older siblings get to ruffle heads!”

“I’m in the mood for beef stir-fry. Oh,” you say, turning around to look at his offended form in the kitchen, “don’t forget to call Hoseok while you’re at it. If you don’t,” you smile, “I will let Jungkook fuck me,” pause, narrowing your eyes, “on our kitchen counter.”

Utter scandalisation, Yoongi’s mouth falls open. “You wouldn’t dare!”

“I don’t know, Jungkook seems like a guy who’s up for anything. I wouldn’t risk it if I were you.”

Next Wednesday, you and Yoongi are arguably late to Taehyung’s birthday dinner at Hoseok and Jungkook’s apartment. Not that it’s a problem though. Jimin’s still fussing around in the kitchen with Hoseok’s help and Jungkook is nowhere to be found.

Jungkook, who’d been hitting up your phone the entirety of the two days you hadn’t seen each other. Including various attempts of sexting that you had to shut down because you were either in class or with your brother.

“Finally, Yoongi, I need your help.” Hoseok turns, hands covered in what appears to be some red marinade. “Come here.”

You smile as Hoseok kisses Yoongi before anything else. It’s good to know that they can now be themselves. The two hadn’t wasted another day to tell Jungkook about their relationship. He took it well. Aside from sending you a very exasperated text about the whole ordeal, calling himself a dumbfuck. Something you wholeheartedly agreed to.

Jimin’s busy chopping something, and you can just see the glint of silver ring that sits snugly around his bottom lip. He can’t wear it to work, the same way your brother has to take out his nose ring every time.

Yoongi’s commitment to Hoseok had been clear when he’d taken out both his lip piercings for his boyfriend. The other’s terrible fear of the things made kissing a bit of an issue. It was how you knew that even through their fighting, they’d be in for the long run. Especially because Hoseok decided to learn to live with Yoongi’s nose ring.

Taehyung’s reading a book in the living room, he hasn’t acknowledged your presence yet. Jimin apparently gave him all hell for being so rude to you, so you hope he’s not mad with you anymore.

“Oh,Y/N,” Hoseok says suddenly. “Kook’s probably in the bathroom.”

You frown. “Okay?”

The redhead gives you a flat expression. “You’ve been standing in the middle of the room for the past five minutes. Just go and talk to him or something.” He realises his words. “No, not or something. Only talking!” he calls after you. “No fucking in my bathroom!”

You wave him off. “Yeah, yeah.”

True to Hoseok’s words, Jungkook is in the bathroom that hides in the back of their apartment. The open door lets you quietly peek around the corner. What you find is a little more than you bargained for.

Jungkook stands in front of the mirror. Clad in ripped, black skinny jeans and a deep maroon and black flannel with what seems to be Urban Outfitters version of tribal designs on the sleeves. Said shirt hangs open, and the way he has his hands in his hair to pull it up leaves no inch of his toned chest covered.

Your own stomach flutters as his abdominal muscles shift. His nipple piercings glimmer in the harsh lighting. The way they had felt against your own chest Monday — you remember. You remember how he’d kissed you, held you, ground against you. How h—

“Hello to you too,” he chuckles with a bobby pin between his teeth. His eyes hold nothing similar to the softness of that chuckle.

Once you gaze up from his lips you find his eyes heavy — dark — as he takes you in. This is familiar, this gaze. It sends shivers down your spine, ones that you struggle to repress.

“Hey,” you breathe, voice low. There’s nothing to be ashamed about, he’s openly letting you watch him. The way he smiles, exposing the piercing under his top lip, says that he’s enjoying it. Loves it. You’re certainly not going to complain.

Not with the way you can see every muscle in his torso as he moves, struggling to get the small pin into his mess of black hair. His skin is almost golden in this light. Warm, enticing. You yearn to touch him. Trail your fingers down his pectorals and feel the ridges of his abs. Hook your fingers into the waistband of his jeans. Pull him against you. Kiss him.

Jungkook’s teeth sink into his bottom lip, faint dimples appearing in his cheeks. He’s no longer watching you watching him. But he can feel your lingering stares. It’s evident in the way he takes his time. How he shrugs the shirt off his shoulders to expose the large, intricate dragon tattoo that curls around his bicep. Every scale is detailed as it’s wing spread over his shoulder for the head to rest on his collarbone.

The longer you watch, the further your mind drifts. Thinking of kissing that exact spot where his collarbone dips, tracing your tongue up to sink your teeth into the skin of his earlobe. What sound would he make? Jungkook has proven to be a moaner, but there might be more than meets the eye.

You know he’s rough. The feeling of his fingers digging into your hips had lasted for long after you’d parted. You know that the sounds he makes go straight to your core. How he growls, groans, grits his teeth. His —

His tongue piercing.

The glint of it in the light catches your eye. You’re drawn to it. How such a small thing could have this effect on you. He knows how to use it and you haven't even felt the worst. The quirk of his eyebrow as he exposes it purposely tells you that much. He’s taunting you.

Your entire mouth goes dry when he scrapes his teeth over his lip again, holding your gaze steady through the mirror. Chest rising with a shaky breath on your part, he ever so slightly tilts his head. A smirk paired with a dangerous look in his eyes.

“What?” Your stomach flutters.

He shakes his head with a lopsided smile. When he turns you come face to face with his chest. It’s not as easy to openly stare this directly. Without the barrier of the mirror your words are lost to you.

You swallow, following his hands as they start to button his shirt. A sight that’s equally enticing and saddening. Watching the stretch of his chest disappear behind the fabric, narrow waist no longer apparent. You can’t help but notice the roughness of his fingers. You’ve felt it. They’re calloused, never used sparingly for anything. A small tattoo hides there, one not easily spotted with how the koi fish draw all attention to them.

Euphoria is etched into the side of his middle finger. A tattoo you’ve seen time and time again, but you don’t know it’s meaning. The dragon symbolises strength, power, will, and the koi fish represent balance. He’s even spoken to you about the tarot cards on the inside of his upper arm, that one drunken night in your living room. The reverse magician for untapped potential, the upright eight of pentacles for mastery and honing skills. Yet, the small word on his finger raises a question for you.

Jungkook suddenly grabs you. You would’ve screamed if his mouth didn’t silence you.

He shuts the door behind you, pressing you against it with enough force to knock the breath from your chest. Tongue licking into your mouth you mewl, grappling for something to hold onto. Your fingers automatically loop into his belt.

With a hand behind your head he angles you up, grants himself access to your warm mouth. You arch into him, every nerve on edge. Every sound distorted by the way he kisses you so deeply you can barely fight for control. No, he’s got you in the palm of his hand, literally. One hand sliding to your ass, digits slipping into your pockets to hold you tight.

Jungkook lets out a deep sound, one that rumbled in his chest and pulls an equally ruined moan from you. His lips are pressing, demanding, speaking ‘you are mine’ into yours. ‘I want you. Now’.

Still stunned, you tighten your fingers into his belt, trying to kiss him back but getting lost in his ministrations. The leather material is tough, but you manage to get him closer. A thigh between yours, you shift your hips up to find friction for both of you.

The kiss is beyond messy. Both needy for oxygen but needier for each other. Breaths mingle and the way he runs his tongue over your top teeth causes a lewd yet startling sound.

“Fuck,” you grumble, breaking from him suddenly.

His eyes remain closed as he licks his lips. “I’ll second that statement,” he whispers hotly, “sitting on the sink or bent over it?”

You choke on your own spit, causing him to finally open his eyes and come back from wherever his mind had wandered. “Jungkook!”

“What? That was a very serious statement.”

“Not with everybody on the other side of the door!”

He grins, tonguing his smiley piercing in a habit that has driven you crazy so often. “Fine.” Straightening up, he swiftly tucks his shirt back into his jeans where it’d come undone under your hands. “Just so you know,” he says, leaning into your ear and opening the door, “all you gotta do is say the word and my room’s right there. I’ll find a way to silence those pretty little moans of yours.”

All the hair on the back of your neck springs up at his words. The way his breath fans out over your ear, lips just shy of grazing you. Tongue darting out, brushing the shell of your ear. You have no reply but a shaky intake of breath.

He leaves, and you’re left to stare at your disheveled form in the large mirror. Hair tangled, you curse under your breath. Jungkook probably won’t mind if you borrow his brush if he has no problems basically swallowing you whole, right?

With the hair at the back of your head finally in place again, you shake your feelings. You can't let Jungkook just play you like that with no repercussions. Two can play this game.

This is how you find yourself walking back into the room, briefly receiving a knowing look from Jimin. You pay him no mind. All you do is glance at the obvious space beside your brother and Hoseok, who now sit at ease in each other’s embrace. Yet, there’s one spot that’s more inviting.

Jungkook knows what you’re up to as soon as you look at him. He narrows his eyes, but you unsuspiciously smile as you take place in his lap as if it’s the most normal thing to do.

Everybody is thinking something, briefly glancing at how you comfortably shift on his thighs. Jungkook himself is less displeased than you’d thought, one hand coming to rest on your leg. Beneath you, you can feel the hard muscles of his thighs and you wonder what it’d be like to ride them.

“Now that everybody is here,” Jimin says, “we can finally do what we came here to do.”

All eyes turn to Taehyung, who gives a deep annoyed sigh. You all know there’s no way around Jimin’s plans. What Jimin wants, Jimin gets. That includes Taehyung, Gucci slippers, and the present that will make his boyfriend very happy even though he’d never admit it. It doesn’t come wrapped in anything big. And as to Taehyung’s wishes, there’s also no singing happy birthday. But the light blue envelope which Jimin retrieves from his bag are enough to make the other’s eyes grow wide like saucers.

Taehyung’s name is written on the front, and he looks at it as if it’s foreign. “I said I didn’t want anything.”

Jungkook fingers suddenly start moving — possibly absentmindedly — trailing the outer edge of your jeans. It tickles. His other hand is placed beside him, keeping him steady as he supports you. There’s enough room for you to squirm but you don’t want to draw attention to yourself. Or the fact that Jungkook is nosing the back of your neck and shoulders. His breath fanning down your shirt and over your back.

“You did say that,” Jimin says, pecking Taehyung’s lips. “But you also said there is something you do want. You just didn’t mention it in regards to your birthday.”

The younger man frowns, sitting up a little straighter and running a nervous hand through his black hair. “Jimin.”

“It’s a present from all of us, Tae,” Jungkook speaks up, fingers falling from your leg.

The second everyone looks away again from the man who’s currently trailing his lips dangerously close to your skin, you shift. Immediately Jungkook’s hands reach for your hips that now sit flush with his. There’s no space left and he can’t do much more than rest his chin on your shoulder with a trembling breath.

You try to concentrate on Taehyung opening the envelope. Somebody speaks, but you don’t catch it over Jungkook’s quiet swear.

“I...” Taehyung’s uncertainty shows, frowning at the piece of paper. Reading every word carefully at least twice. “What is this?” He looks up, giving everyone the same confused expression. Jimin’s sitting on the armrest beside him, trying his hardest to hold back the tears.

Luckily, Hoseok hasn’t lost his ability to speak. Unlike Jungkook who’s gripping your hips like a vice. “Jimin told us that you’ve been wanting to get a tattoo removed and covered. So we all chipped in to get you a laser-removal appointment.”

Taehyung’s still looking at the paper as if it might catch on fire, but he nods quietly. “You all did this? For me?”

Jimin makes an excited noise. “He means to say thank you.” He grabs his boyfriend, kissing him firmly on the cheek, mumbling a congratulations amidst the embrace. “We all want you to be happy, Tae.”

The man nods again. “Thank you, really.”

After a moment of awkward silence, Hoseok gets up first. Preventing the disaster of things getting uncomfortable and preventing Taehyung from shedding the obvious tears that brim his eyes. “Okay, let's all eat. Come on.”

Getting up, Jungkook’s hands stop you immediately. He keeps you tight, grumbling for you to stay put. You chuckle. Talking big game, sure. But his amusement has faded now that you have returned the favour. He doesn’t let go until everyone’s turned to the table.

You stand, swing in your step. Only turning around to catch Jungkook untucking his shirt to shield his very obvious erection from view.

“Really, Jeon?” you whisper with a giggle.

He clicks his tongue. “You want to tell me you’re not wet right now?”

You look straight at him as you lie: “I am not.”

Jungkook merely smirks, starting towards the table but stopping to whisper: “Good girls don’t tell lies.”

You shiver, breath hitching as you watch him sit down as if he hadn’t just said that. Getting on the upper hand on this guy is impossible, he’s just prepared to go one step further every time. But you’re not ready to give up just yet.

As much as you lied. As much as your need for him is rapidly increasing. You’re not going to let those words sink in. If anything you can prove him wrong. Good girl. What a joke. Maybe.

Everybody sits, chatting comfortably as the table-top grills warm up. An array of food sits on the large table. Chicken, beef, squid, side-dishes, Taehyung’s favourite red bean paste, and Jimin’s home-made secret-recipe dipping sauce. There’s way too much food, but nobody will complain about that.

“Hey Jungkook,” Jimin starts, “how is that whole situation with the guy from Australia going?”

Jungkook sighs. “Not too great to be fair, it’s nearly impossible to find a proper date that suits us both.” For the past two months Jungkook’s been trying to get an internship with an artist he admires. They’ve gotten in touch through instagram, and he’s been beyond excited. Talks of him going to Australia for a month keep getting more serious.

“You’re not going,” Hoseok says with a mouth full of food, “unless you’re trading with someone. I can’t man the shop alone and you know it. It’ll be bad for business.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook shrugs it off. “Anyway, he said it’ll most likely happen next summer if anything. We will see.”

Yoongi coughs, sipping water to rinse down the extensive spices. “Jimin, that sauce of yours. It gets me every time.”

“It’s good!” you and Jungkook interject in unison, causing everybody to shoot you a weird look.

“What?” you question. “Actually, give me some more.” You lean over, firmly planting your hand on Jungkook’s thigh without thinking about it. Leaning over, It lands closely enough to the top that you can feel that he’s still hard — if not harder than before.

He chokes on his food, taking a deep breath through his nose.

You sit back down, but your hand remains in position. His thigh tenses under your touch, warm, trembling as you drag your nails up like he’d done to you earlier. Whatever conversation currently plays goes straight in one ear and out the other for you. One hand busy dipping slightly charred chicken into the small bowl of red sauce, the other squeezing Jungkook’s leg.

He can’t do anything. Not without making it obvious what you’re doing. So he shifts, legs falling open and giving you access you weren’t expecting. Possibly on accident. Or in the hopes that you will actually touch him. Your heart races, but your body gets the better of you. As does your curiosity.

The second your fingers touch the head of his dick through his jeans, he jerks. Sitting up straight and snapping his legs closed.

“Jungkook?” Taehyung questions.

You shoot him an equally confused look, playing your part. “Everything okay?”

From the other end of the table Jimin looks at you with raised eyebrows. A gesture which you return with glee.

“Yeah, sorry,” Jungkook mumbles, “just bit my tongue.”

Smooth. Either everyone believes him, or they all know but unanimously decide to not speak and continue the dinner as normal. Even Jungkook seems to have decided to not reciprocate your touch this time. Both hands above the table, sitting with his legs spread as before.

You cross yours, realising that you are still turned on as you do. “So, now that everybody knows about how Hoseok is dating my brother. Can I like ask for asylum so that I won’t have to get my ears assaulted anymore?”

Jimin snorts. “You poor thing.” He raises his chopsticks, pointing at Jungkook. “I’m certain you can arrange something with him. You know. You sleep with him, Hoseok sleeps with Yoongi.” No filter. Jimin’s absolute inability to not say certain things strikes again. Your cheeks run red.

To your surprise, Jungkook doesn't react.

“Okay,” Yoongi interjects. “Can we please not talk about my little sister having sex.”

“Hey!” You point your utensils at him. “I’ve had to listen to Hoseok literally pound you into the mattress more times than I’m comfortable to admit. You guys have no decency, why should I—“

Jungkook’s fingers snaking into your waistband shuts you up. “How about we just don’t talk about people fucking at the dinner table. I mean we—“

“You’re one to speak Jeon!” Hoseok cuts in. “I’ve heard you often enough. I’m not sure what kinda shit you’re into but she should consider this her official warning if you haven’t given her one yet.”

His words don’t quite impact you. Not with the way that Jungkook starts gently rubbing circles over your exposed hipbone. His fingers still hooked tightly into your jeans, holding you from moving. The touch to your skin is barely there, but it’s enough to put him on your mind the entire time. To make sure you don’t forget the wetness between your legs that he’s causing.

Jungkook is idly engaged in the banter, and all you can think off is his fingers on your skin. What’d be like to feel them elsewhere. Deeper. Rougher.

You uncross your legs, try to relax. To get your mind off the way he tugs you just a little bit closer. Close enough to be able to hook his foot around your ankle and spread your legs wider. Why would he — His hand comes down just above your knee.

Every breath you take is a feat, you’re hyper aware of how you sit, how he touches you. This is payback. He doesn’t move his palm, it just rests there like a threat. Or a claim that you’re his.

“Y/N?” Yoongi asks

You shake awake. “Yeah?”

“I was saying,” he trails, “that once you’re done with school, we could all try to go on a holiday together.”

“Oh yeah, that sounds good. Like, far?”

Everybody starts protesting, complaining about money and fears to fly. Jimin and Taehyung both counter Hoseok’s offer to take a longer flight to a further destination. But Yoongi feels that staying inside the country defeats the purpose of a holiday.

You? You just want Jungkook to take his hand off your leg. Not slowly start trailing it up, but there’s no stopping him. Not without swatting at him, or likely trapping his hand between your thighs. The latter situation seems too dangerous.

So you let Jungkook move his hand agonisingly slow until it reaches the juncture of your thighs. Here, he stops.

Luckily you’re not the only one who still feels like they’re bursting at the seams. Jungkook’s still hard, bouncing one of his legs and shifting in his seat twice before suddenly getting up.

He excuses himself to go to the bathroom, but not before trailing a finger along the back of your collar. Little shit. Is he really going to rub one out in the bathroom right now?

Your mind immediately wanders to the visual. Jungkook standing over the bathroom sink, gripping it hard as the other hand slides up and down his length in fast, practiced motions.

Jimin distracts you from this though, asking you about your current study. You do your best to give him coherent answers, but your mind keeps floating back to Jungkook. Dampness between your legs growing fast.

Should you go after him? Maybe that’s what he wants. His earlier offer ringing through your mind, “I’ll find a way to silence those pretty little moans of yours.” Crossing your legs again gives you some friction. Core throbbing even though he’s barely touched you over the course of an hour.

You’re so worked up that when he finally returns you can feel the heft of his eyes on you. He doesn’t touch you, but his presence alone is enough to make you tense. The feeling of anticipation sits heavy in your stomach. It makes you jittery, in a good way. but you’re oh so impatient, fingers itching to touch him, feel him, taste him. It’s a thirst.

It distracts you fully from the dessert. When you look over to Jungkook he’s tonguing at his smiley piercing. Quickly, you avert your eyes back to your plate as if it’s gonna burst into pieces if you don’t.

True to character, you end up getting sticky caramel sauce all over the side of your hand. You lick it off, not thinking much of it but aware of how Jungkook’s watching you. No, you can’t eye-fuck him while everybody is there.

Never have you been so relieved for a dinner to end. Everyone’s getting up and helping to get the dishes in the sink. They’ll be washed later, or tomorrow. Now, you‘re going to go out to a local bar. Maybe there you and Jungkook can get some privacy — or get laid. Whichever way you want to put it. At this point you don’t care about where it happens anymore.

Jungkook lingers by the door, purposely waiting for everybody to leave the apartment under the pretence of having to lock the door. Yet the second the door just falls closed, the first thing he does is grab and entire handful of your ass and squeezes. Hard.

“Shit.” The words slip from your mouth and everyone turns back to look at you. You stare blankly ahead for a few seconds, Jungkook walking past you. He’s easily stopped by you inconspicuously grabbing the back of his shirt. “Is today the twenty-ninth?”

Yoongi looks at his phone. “Yeah, why?”

The lie is easily constructed. “I have a paper to hand in tomorrow at 10am. Fuck. I forgot to send it in early.” You cast your eyes up towards Jungkook, hoping he catches on. “Can I borrow your laptop? I promise I’ll be fast.”

“Yeah,” he answer quickly, “sure.” Jungkook gives his friends a look. “We’ll be right out, don’t wait up for us.”

The other four men are silent, and you know how fucking stupid you look. How obvious it is. But if anybody dares open their mouth about it, you’ll just admit the truth at this point.

“Okay,” Hoseok shrugs, his answer enough to make the others follow him.

Jungkook’s quick to turn towards the apartment, hands fumbling with the key. Only Jimin turns around to look at you. The blonde wiggles his eyebrows, pushing his tongue in his cheek twice coupled with a swift motion of his hand.

You flip him off, holding up your middle finger and turning back to Jungkook.

The door swings open, your stomach tightening with excitement. Hands slightly trembling from the nerves but you get no time to waste a thought on it. To even think about what’s going to happen.

He’s all over you the second the door falls closed. Barely inside. Kissing open-mouthed, hands fumbling for clothes. He untucks your shirt from your jeans, pushing your cardigan off. You struggle with the buttons on his flannel.

The kiss is filled with impatience. You want this. Now. The sounds that fall from both of you are swallowed by the lewd noises of your tongues. You give him no slack this time. Determined, you press into him, promptly tearing the last two buttons off as you slip your tongue into his mouth.

He moans as you trace his tongue piercing — louder when you bite and suck at his bottom lip. You let yourself revel in the sounds just a little, fingers finally tracing the ridges of his abs. Tweaking a nipple piercing, Jungkook lets out the most strangled whine you’ve yet heard from him and you smile into the kiss.

Suddenly you feel your jeans slack against your waist. “Off?” he asks, thumbs already hooked into your waistband. Your own fingers sliding his belt out of the loop.

“Now,” you growl into the kiss.

Your jeans and panties are at your ankles in seconds, and you kick them to some corner of the hallway. Jungkook doesn’t linger. Doesn’t gaze up at your now fully exposed cunt from his brief position on his knees. He just grabs you by the back of your thighs and hoists you up around his waist when he stands again.

Like this, the rough material of his jeans rubs against you, making you hiss. It’s good, rough, but good. He knows, smirking into another wet, sloppy kiss. You have no mind for the way your teeth clash. Too busy trying to undo his buttons and zipper between your bodies. Like this you can feel your own wetness slip against your wrist.

“I still can’t believe,” Jungkook mumbles, suddenly hoisting you up even further, “that you,” he bites at a nipple through your shirt, “chickened out on the other nipple piercing.”

You let out a dry chuckle that dies off into a string of moans as he pushes up your shirt and starts mouthing at your chest. He pays special attention to the one nipple that’s pierced. Pressing his tongue into it, followed by a breath of cold air. You shiver, toes curling as he holds you tightly against the wall.

“Not every—everybody,” you pant as he teases your nipple with his tongue, flicking it with his piercing, “is into pain like you, Jeon.”

He lets out a short laugh, mumbling something into your breast that sounds like a version of ‘not now,’ as he sucks a bruise into your skin. You must look like a mess, you think as you slide your fingers through his hair. Marks blooming. Bare centre pressed against his abdomen as he's using all his strength to keep you up in this position.

“Jungkook,” you whine, voice pitching a little too high. “Put it in, or I’ll chop it off and show you pain.” Like this, you can’t feel his dick. But you know he’s hard. He still was when you undid his jeans. It must be painful at this point. Especially with how you’re rubbing your wetness all over his stomach.

He groans, bracing a hand against the wall. “Hold on to something.”

You grapple for his shoulder as you tighten your hand around his waist. The other hand finds one of the coat hangers on the wall beside you. “Fuck,” you realise how hard this is. How’s he keeping you up?

Within seconds, Jungkook manages to pull a condom from his back pocket. Uncanny. Prepared and ready to go. You internally praise him for it. He holds you pressed against the wall as he tears it open and slides it on. A pained moan falls as he touches himself after being hard for so long. The sound is delicious, his head falling against your shoulder.

A thin sheen of sweat already coats your bodies. Shirt plastered to your skin, Jungkook’s fringe starting to stick to his forehead. But he shows no mercy.

His hands now come down to your ass, and your arms start shaking from holding yourself up.

The first initial brush of the head of his cock against your centre has you clench up. Excitement rushing through your body. Finally, after hours, days, months, you feel him. You moan. “Jungkook please.” The position doesn’t allow you to shift. To sink down onto him on your own accord.

He knows this. Letting out controlled breaths as he finally starts letting you down. There’s no resistance because of how wet you are. Your nails dig into his shoulder, his sink deeper into the flesh of your ass. Every single twitch of your core has him shuddering, but you can’t help it. The relief that floods your body at finally feelings him is insane.

You feel like a teenager, on edge this easily. At this point, your arms really start burning, and you try to shift. “Jung—FUCK!” The coat hanger snaps, breaking off the wall and causing you to lose your hold and sink down on him, fast.

In shock, Jungkook catches you and slams you against the wall. Your head knocks back, and Jungkook lets out a harsh breath through his nose as he bottoms out. “You good?”

Laughing, you nod, causing him to smile sheepishly despite the fact that you almost literally fell on his dick. “Please just,” you shift your hips a little to search out any friction, “move. Please move.”

Jungkook obliges, pressing his entire body up against yours. Pulling out, he slides back in to the hilt with one smooth thrust and you can‘t even form a noise. Your moan dies off in your throat, eyes closing at the feeling. The angle makes you feel every single inch of him, so deep. Pressed right up against your g-spot from the get-go. You shiver, clench, making him shudder.

“Fuck,” he growls, “so wet.”

Nails digging into his shoulders, you edge him on. Clenching and shifting to get him to finally just move. And move he does. Though the position doesn’t allow for more than him rutting straight into your most sensitive spot and sending you into a frenzy.

High pitched moans and deep grunts fill the hallway, your shirt protecting you from the harsh rub of the wall. All you can feel is his cock moving snug inside of you. Minimal friction, but maximum contact, you feel him twitch every time.

It’s hot. Suffocating. Having him this close. It’s delirious, toe-curling. You’re a mess, head thrown back as he just keeps moving. His pelvic bone rubbing right into your clit when he changes angle and— oh. “Shit,” you breathe.

“Yeah,” he answers, smiling into your neck. “I—“ he pauses to curse loudly, not stopping his movements. “I’m not gonna last.”

You barely hear him, whining in the back of your throat.

“I’m serious,” he repeats, licking up the side of your neck. “I’m close.”

Can you care? You feel like you’re on the edge, but also nowhere near your end. But in the haze of pleasure you nod, finding his lips as you try to not lose the feeling. “Don’t stop.” Holding him tight, you push his flannel of his shoulder for better purchase. “Don’t,” you lick over his bottom lip, “stop.”

Jungkook moans — a loud sound — as you find purchase to meet his movements. He moans, your cunt suddenly tighter, sucking him in. It takes only two, three more thrusts before he stills and comes so hard he nearly drops you. His entire body shudders as he twitches inside your walls. Your legs slip down, supporting your own weight before you actually tumble.

“Fuck.” He hides his face in the crook of your neck, panting heavy and wet against your chest. With his dick softening inside you, your core aches for more. Dripping still, you need friction. Release. “I’m — shit — wait.” Jungkook lets you down properly, slipping out of you. “Jesus, I’m so—“

You hush him, carding your fingers through his hair as he’s too embarrassed to meet your gaze. The empty feeling between your legs ignored for now. He’s hot, and his back and shoulders are covered in scratch marks. When he finally leans back you see his half-undone hair, his flushed skin. Eyes dark, lips red and swollen. A sight to behold.

“Jungkook,” you whisper, touching his chin to make him look up at you. Thumb running over his bottom lip, you press inside to feel the tip of his tongue. Deeper, to find his piercing. He responds lazily, sucking on your digit. “Why don’t you go down on your knees.” Your voice is a drawl, laced with the arousal that’s still burning through your veins like wildfire. “Show me that tongue piercing is more than a pretty accessory. Hmm?”

His eyes darken immediately. He gives you a taste of what you might expect, swirling his tongue around your thumb. Your stomach swoops, legs still shaky. Pulling off with a pop, he chuckles at your expression. “Let's get to the bedroom. I’m not gonna be able to hold you up while I eat you out.”

So casual. “I’m not afraid of you and your golden tongue medal Jungkook. Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Jungkook makes a face, tongue swiping over this inside of his cheek in a habitual motion. A cocky one. “Okay, have it your way.”

Sinking to his knees, trailing down your thighs, he lifts one of your legs over his shoulder. That alone is enough to unbalance you with the way he licks and nips up your inner thigh. Goosebumps, everywhere. You can’t give in. Not when he hasn’t even—“Shit.” Jungkook goes straight for the jugular, teeth not-so-gently sinking into one of your folds as his thumb slides between them to find your soaked clit. His tongue follows immediately. The pressure of his piercing sudden, and your hand flies to his hair that’s still contained by the elastic.

“Jungk—Fuck.” You sink your teeth into your bottom lip as he wraps his lips around your bud. Your body isn’t prepared.

There’s sudden, hard suction — no warning, no build-up. Jungkook sucks at you in bursts, at just the right angle where the ball in his tongue presses slightly left and — “Ah, shit, shi—fuck!” Your entire body starts vibrating, your high approaching so fast you lose control of your one leg that supports you. He expected it, because his assault stops just in time to catch you from toppling over on him.

He gazes up, lips and chin shiny, eyes glazed over and heavy-lidded. “Bed?”

All you can do is nod. Your mouth dry, breath trembling, legs jelly.

The two of you kiss when he stands and you taste yourself on his tongue ever so slightly. His bedroom isn’t far, but neither of you can let go. His hands sliding under your shirt, finally lifting it off your body. Immediately, his hand find your chest, touching, squeezing, tweaking. You moan, your own hands busy with pulling him along and tugging the last bobby pin from his hair.

Jungkook’s jeans are finally discarded when you enter his bedroom. Now less rushed, you see the floral pattern on his hip. You touch it, roses curling over his skin and disappearing under his boxers only to resurface on his thigh.

You’d take your time to trace him, remember him. but right now you’re too hungry for release. You can’t remember the last time you were this needy. This turned on. High-strung. Just thinking of his mouth has you shivering and rubbing your thighs together.

“On the bed,” Jungkook mumbles against your mouth as you kiss him. “Unless all you wanna do is make out for the rest of the night.”

You chuckle, smiling as he pushes you onto the bed and presses you against the dark covers. He seems gentle now, though your aware that what’s to come is anything but. He’s proven as much.

Back arching while he kisses down your chest, you let your own fingers roam the planes of his back. His skin is soft, ink dancing at the edges of your vision as he trails down your body. Teething at a nipple, scratching over your hip bones — Jungkook has you trembling by the time he reaches the apex of your thighs again.

You whine for mercy.

He smirks knowingly, as he breathes out over your folds. Not another second wasted, yet a teasing edge to his actions, as he lickes up your sex.

Shivering, your hands tighten in the sheets. His tongue is warm, pressing against your core while he uses a firm hand to spread your thighs further apart for him. Like that, he holds you open, pausing, breathing against you. The lack of contact lasts too long, and you shift. Canting your hips up for anything.

Eyes closed, you don’t see him move. You feel the nudge of his nose first and then... Cold. “Ah.” The press of his piercing right against your clit is ice cold and firm. Your entire body tenses up, legs nearly clamping down around his head. It’s downhill from there.

Jungkook holds you open with one hand, fingers painfully firm. He's in a controlled frenzy. Hard, swift, slurping, not a part left unattended as he pulls sounds from you, you weren’t aware you could make. The way he flicks the metal against your clit sends you keening. Back arches, painfully so with curled toes and tug at his hair — he groans. The vibrations going straight into your cunt, his tongue flattening.

He almost lets you rut up into his face. Your hands tightening into his locks, hips shifting up over his mouth. Jungkook moans into you, shoulder tensing and eyes closing. Like this, you get the fast friction you want, the build-up you need, the—

“Fuck.” His hand grabs your wrist, pulling you from his hair. “If you wanted to sit on my face, you could’ve just asked.”

Your core clenches at the thought. Him under you, gripping your thighs as you use his mouth for your own pleasure. Those dark, wide eyes looking up at you. All fucked-out. “Can I?”

He chuckles. “Absolutely not. You can use me next time. Tonight you’re mine.”

His. It falls off his tongue so easily, so deeply. You are his.

He dives back in, no longer stopped by the feeling of your hands pulling at his hair. No, he knows what to do now. Swiftly he slips a finger into your sopping core. The way he curls that one finger into you is as if he’s done it before. You’re still sensitive from when he fucked you but he doesn’t care.

He knows he’s got you when your entire body starts shaking. You can’t stop it. The combination of his finger curling in and out of you, and his tongue rapidly circling your clit — it’s too much.

You whine loudly. Entire body on fire, tingles going down to your toes. There’s no way you’re not soiling his sheets. Him using the back of your hand to swipe over your core so he can gain purchase says enough.

His lips wrap around your clit again and he does that thing. That sucking, the flicking of his piercing. Warm, wet, rapid — this beats any toy you’ve ever used.

You can feel your high approaching like a freight train. A heavy weight in your lower abdomen. It hits you before you can even warn him. White flashes beneath your eyelids as you arch off the bed, hands pulling at the sheets.

He doesn’t stop. Gentle sucking and licking until you fall limp onto his sheets.

Eyes still closed, you’re vaguely aware of what’s happening. It’s like you’re floating, a strange, fuzzy feeling. He closes your legs, and you whimper his name with furrowed brows.

“I warned you,” he chuckles, lips pressing into your shoulder. “You didn’t listen to me.”

When you open your eyes he’s beside you, leaning on one arm. His fingers trail the shape of your chest, brushing over a very sensitive nipple. A leg slung over your limp ones. The line of his body — he’s gorgeous. Yours.

“Fine,” you sigh, “I’ll admit it.” His lips twitch up into a smile before you even finish your sentence. “You’ve ruined me. Now you’re stuck with me. I’ll never want anything but you and your devilish tongue for the rest of my life.”

Jungkook’s smile widens further, holding in a laugh as he reaches over to kiss your lips. “You don’t know what you’re asking for sweetheart,” he whispers, tongue darting out to touch yours. “I’m not done with you yet.”

When he pulls you in, you can feel him. He’s rock hard against the juncture of your hip. Feeling him again...the thought makes you shudder. But you can also feel the sensitivity linger in your core. “No,” you squeal playfully when he rocks his hips into yours. Skin still separated by his boxers. “I need time to recuperate from all that!”

“You get ten minutes.” He nips at your chin, noses the line of your jaw. “I’ll show you what it really feels like to be ruined. We can discuss the rest of your life later.”

You grim, turning to capture his lips, legs intertwining further. “Yeah, Jeon? Gonna prove to me you’re not just a one pump guy?” The little giggle in your sentence conveys your teasing.

Jungkook’s hand grips your ass hard, pulling you flush against him. “Ten minutes are over, brat.”

An unpleasant tingling in your arm is what wakes you in the still-early morning. You sigh, shifting to feel the weight that rests over your shoulder. Jungkook.

Everything comes tumbling back. Him fucking you against the hallway wall, eating you out and making you see stars, and then fucking you again — twice. You screamed his name until you cried both of those times. The dull ache between your legs is the proof of it, as is the dryness in your throat.

Right now he lies asleep with his head on your shoulder, hair splayed messily over your skin. Your legs are twisted, and when you turn you can feel that he’s sporting a very serious hard on. “Jungkook,” you whisper, running your fingers through his hair.

He groans, lips brushing your skin as he wakes. His arm tightens around your waist, fingers sending warmth up your spine. When he finally opens his eyes he blinks hard, once, twice, to look up at you with a wide, almost innocent gaze. Your heart skips as he looks up at you so softly. There’s a gleam in those big brown eyes as the sunlight catches them, almost making you forget all the sinful things he did to you.

“Morning,” he croaks.

“My arm.”

“Oh, shit,” he laughs, moving from his position. To your surprise, he ignores his obvious arousal even when it’s unceremoniously pressed against your leg. “Com’ere.” As much as yours, Jungkook’s voice is rough, tainted by your previous activities that went well into the depth of the night.

You let him pull you against him so that your cheek rests on his chest, his fingers carding through your hair. He kisses the top of your head, a warm gesture. Neither of you speak for a good while, almost drifting back to sleep as you bask in the gentle morning. There’s no more tension or heaviness between you. As much as the ‘what now’ question lingers on your tongue, you swallow it. Because you know.

Through the night both of your desires had become clear. Far beyond the point of lust. Jungkook growling that you’re his as his hips drive you into the mattress, and again when he kisses you tenderly after. You asking him if he’s yours, and receiving an affirmative nod as your mouth sank down on him.

No. You don’t need to have that conversation right now.

You reach out for his hand, brushing the euphoria tattoo on his middle finger. “Now I know why you got this tattooed here.”

Jungkook lets out a breath sound, humming into your hair. “I’ll make sure you don’t forget.” This less-sweet answer is paired with his other hand slipping down between your bare legs to brush your sensitive folds. “How ab—“

“Jungkook?!” Hoseok’s voice startles you both. Eyes widening with fear, hand clasping over your mouth.

“What?!” Jungkook calls back, hand coming back to your hip.

“Me and Yoongi are going out to get breakfast, do you want anything?” Your brother is here? Did they hear you?

Jungkook groans. “Where are you going?”

Your hand remains clasped over your mouth, but Jungkook doesn’t seem anything other than annoyed with his friend.

“The bakery,” Hoseok answers. “The one down south.”

“Just the usual then, and an americano.”

There’s a brief silence on the other side of the door, until... “Y/N? You want anything?”

Your face turns red, too shocked to really answer.

“She’ll have what I’m having,” Jungkook calls back with a smile.

“Hey!” You playfully shove at his chest. “I want a latte!” you call towards Hoseok.

“Sure,” Hoseok laughs. “Oh, by the way. One of you is paying for that coat hanger. And Y/N, your panties are cute but I’m not picking them off my floor.”

If you weren’t embarrassed to begin with, you sure are now. Neither of you went back to clean the mess you made in the hallway. Meaning that now only Hoseok saw, but your brother did too and—

There’s a scream “JEON JUNGKOOK! YOU DISGUSTING PIECE OF SHIT!!” your brother wails, Jungkook’s entire body tightens up in response. He sucks in a breath through his teeth.

There’s a long silence, the sound of Hoseok muttering in the distance. You look up at the man beside you, confused. Jungkook’s face is drained of all colour. He known.

You’re about to open your mouth when Hoseok returns.

The door opens, and his voice carries in louder than before. “Jeon, if that nasty ass condom isn‘t gone by the time we get back, you owe me both halves of the rent. Capiche?”

Jungkook gulps. “Yeah.”

Hoseok slams the door shut, getting the message across. The both of you hold your breath until you hear the front door fall closed. Then you erupt into laughter, hands caressing bodies as tears appear in the corners of your eyes.

Jungkook shakes his head. “We have about half an hour,” he whispers, turning you so that you’re lying on top of him.

“I think we can clean up a hallway in less than that Jungkook.”

“Good,” he smirks, sliding your thighs apart so that his hard cock presses between your folds. Bare, no barriers. “Because I want you to ride me.”

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Feel free to let me know what you thought, but don't send me any graphic or vulgar asks please.

Special thanks to: @ayxxha @dee-ehn @spicykoreantatertots @taekooksfxck @sevenwho @sunshineangelhobi @hobisbeautifulass @thinksshesawolf @franklytae @softlyjiminie @out-of-jams @mygsii @joonsrack @namjooniebjonesuniverse (i'm sorry if I forgot someone)

@minjoonalist @ironicarmy @kookiesspacebuns @dammit-jjk @jesuislalune @setton00 @hplsmoon @lexi-the-fandom-master-love @thefiresfromheaven @nctssidehoe @tenshikoo @miladavidson @catsandstrawberries @cvbachacbitch @x-guccipeaches-x @yeontanie21 @feel-the-sunset @jimilogy @si1verrose @bishuthot @shane-knight @carolsummerlove @doki-do-ki @topanga27 @vanitypoko @kookoo-kachoo

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nanatsumu · 3 years

Text

SEVEN DAYS

pairing: akaashi keiji x f!reader

genre: tooth rotting fluff

synopsis: despite the chaos in your busy week, akaashi is always there to remind you that no matter what the inconvenience, he’ll always be there by your side seven days a week one way or another.

YOU KNOW IT’S MORNING when the golden rays of sunshine filters through the blinds of your shared bedroom with akaashi and you can’t help but mutter a small ‘5 more minutes’ when you feel a hand try and shake your body awake.

“babe it’s 7:20 right now,” he says with a deep chuckle as he rubs his eyes. “we both know that if you fall back asleep now then you’re never gonna wake up again.”

you peek your head out from under the blanket and when you see your boyfriend’s bed head, (that makes him look even more adorable than he already does and you mentally curse him for being able to work a bed head) you find it difficult to shoot back a snarky remark to his comment— and it is proven especially difficult when he’s looking at you with the most love struck expression on his face.

“fine! you win!” you sigh before sitting up, letting the blanket fall down to your lap.

akaashi extends his hand out to fix the strap of your pajama top when he notices that it slipped off your shoulder: to which you thank him by placing a small kiss onto his jawline, causing his lips to curve into a smile.

his hand cups your cheek, which startles you for a moment, but then he gently guides your face closer to his so that he can pull you in for a sensual kiss that leaves your mind feeling fuzzy.

when you two finally pull away and you’re able to recollect your thoughts, a lopsided grin makes its way onto your face and akaashi playfully rolls his eyes as he can practically feel the words that are about to leave your lips in his bones.

“ew morning breath,” you cackle and even though you think that it’s the most ugliest laugh in the world, akaashi thinks that it’s one of his favorite things to hear because it’s your most genuine form of laughter. “you must reaaally be in love with me!”

“i am really in love with you y/n.” he says, deciding to give into your ego for just one day.

“that’s good,” your eyes crinkle as you give him a soft smile. “because i’m really in love with you too.”

“...but don’t think that your love confession is gonna land you an extra 5 minutes of sleep.”

“way to kill the mood keiji!” you pout.

“c’mon let’s go freshen up together.” he says while ushering you out of bed and into the bathroom.

“no i’m just saying, if you’re gonna bitch about my work being ‘inadequate’ then you should really be worrying about yourself more than other people cause boy do i have some news for you.” you complained as you lathered your hair in shampoo before massaging it into your scalp.

“your co worker... sounds like... a real handful.” akaashi says in between breaks while he’s brushing his teeth.

“that’s what i’m saying— oh! can you pass me my face wash keiji?”

you hear a bit of shuffling before akaashi sticks his arm into the shower from behind the curtain with a bottle in his hand.

“babe...” you push his hand back out. “that’s moisturizer.”

“oh my bad.” he lets out a small ‘oops’ before going back to the cabinet above your sink and maneuvering around your other numerous skincare products, reading all the labels to make sure he grabs the facial wash this time and hands you it.

“thanks!” you’re about to grab the face wash from his hand when an idea suddenly pops into your head.

you quickly twist the shower knob so that the water goes from hot to cold before grabbing his hand, along with your face wash which was still in his hand as well, and pulling it under the water coming from the shower head.

akaashi lets out a shriek as the water practically hits his entire arm while you’re laughing your ass off with your hair in a makeshift bun using the shampoo that was still in your hair.

“y/n!” he yanks his arm out of your grasp and you peek out into the outside world from behind the shower curtain, where you can see akaashi holding his arm to his chest on the other side of the bathroom.

“you’re being such a baby keiji!” you giggle.

“ha ha very funny, you better be careful because who knows,” his lips curl into a mischievous smirk. “after your shower tonight you may or may not have hair afterwards.”

“you wouldn’t!” you gasp dramatically. “don’t nair me, please! i’m sorry!”

you’re gripping onto the shower curtain, spewing out apology after apology while akaashi stands there amused with how you can go from a devious little thing to an apology spitting machine within a just a few seconds.

“i’ll forgive you, but only because i’m a much more mature person than you.” he teases.

“yeah right! remember when i forgot to record your favorite tv show that one time and then you ate all of my snacks the following week?” you try defending yourself as you go back to finish washing your hair.

“no way, that never happened.” he lies straight through his teeth— which you do not appreciate.

“yes it did! i even have the video of you being all whiny to prove my point and if you don’t admit to your actions then i’ll send it to the group chat with bokuto, kuroo, and tsukishima!”

“fine it did happen! just don’t send it to them or else i’ll never hear the end of it,” he puts his hands up in mock surrender before spitting out the rest of the toothpaste in his mouth into the sink and rinsing it out. “i’m trying to keep the cool and aloof persona going you know?”

you snort.

“just imagine when they find out that akaashi keiji isn’t actually the cool guy type they think he is but instead a dorky sap who’s in love with l/n y/n!”

“but i don’t blame you,” you add. “who wouldn’t be in love with me?”

“i sure hope no one is because you’re my girlfriend.” he scoffs.

“ooo possessive, i like that look on you keiji.” your laughter fills the entire bathroom.

“yeah? less talking more washing y/n, it’s 7:55 now.” he reminds you.

“oh shit! why didn’t you tell me before!?” you cry out as you frantically wash out the rest of the shampoo in your hair and rub in some conditioner into the ends of your hair before completely rinsing out the rest of the product in your hair.

“maybe if you weren’t so busy planning to prank me then you would’ve been out of the shower 5 minutes ago.”

“i said i’m sorry!” you wring out all the water in your hair before grabbing a towel to wrap around your entire body and then running into your bedroom to quickly get dressed.

after you slip into some jeans and a loose button up, you sit down in front of your vanity to begin putting on some makeup— but remembering to keep it light enough so that it doesn’t feel heavy over the course of the long day you’re going to have at work.

as you’re about to reach for your concealer, you can see akaashi pop up from behind you in the mirror and you immediately take notice of the blow dryer in his hands.

“want some help? your hair is still wet and i don’t think you want to show up to work with it wet.” he asks as he saunters up to the electrical outlet next to the vanity.

“yes please keiji, you’re a life saver.” you press a chaste kiss onto his cheek before turning around and getting to work on your face.

as akaashi plugs in the blow dryer and begins to dry your hair for you, he makes sure not to ruffle it too much in fear of messing up your makeup and having you re-do it, resulting in you being late for work.

“your fingers feel really nice,” you say out of the blue and just as he’s about to make a sexual comment, you’re quick to interrupt him by adding along to your previous statement. “not in that way idiot, it’s just... i feel like i wanna fall asleep or something.”

“i think that’s the last thing we both want happening.” he jokes which prompts you both to laugh at the same time.

“mhm, i’m just really glad to have you here with me though,” you grin and he catches it when he looks at you through the mirror. “like what boyfriend is willing to blow dry their girlfriend’s hair for them when they’re running late for work?”

“i’m sure there are plenty of other good guys out there.”

“but good thing i have the one and only akaashi keiji all to myself.” you smile sheepishly.

“oh and i’m the sap in the relationship? i’m starting to think you’re the real sap here.”

“as if! says the guy who practically spews out love confessions for his girlfriend while he’s completely wasted after 2 bottles of beer.” you snicker.

instead of trying to start a banter with you, he decides to focus at the task at hand and finishes drying your hair before turning the blow dryer off and then proceeding to grab a brush and brush your hair out in order to get rid of the knots he created while he was drying it.

"thanks babe!" you give him another kiss, this time on his lips, after he announces that he was finished with your hair.

you spray a bit of perfume on yourself, grab your purse and then slip on a pair of shoes when you get to the front door.

"wait, y/n!" you see akaashi run out of your bedroom and make his way over to you before pulling you in for a hug. “stay safe and call me when you’re done with work alright?”

“yes i will, and ramen tonight? i’ve been craving some and i’ll probably stop by the grocery store today after work so i can pick up some other stuff.” you pull away a bit so that you can look up at his face but still have your arms wrapped around his mid section.

“sounds good, do you want to just come home first and we can just go together?” he starts to sway your bodies back and forth.

“and you can pay for us? deal!” you give the male one last kiss on his lips before slipping away, not giving him the chance to protest (not that he was going to anyways, he would never let you pay for anything while you were in his presence.)

“i love you, have a nice day at work!” was the last thing he heard before you completely shut the door on him.

+ a/n: hey y’all so i’m currently in a writers block for rent a boyfriend and so what better way to cure that than to write an akaashi fluff? this idea has been stuck in my head for the past week and i’m just in love with the idea of boyfriend!akaashi blow drying your hair while you’re running late to work T^T

#haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #hq x reader #hq fluff #hq x you #hq x y/n #akaashi x reader #akaashi fluff #akaashi x y/n #akaashi x you #akaashi keiji #volleyball #sports anime #anime #anime fanfic

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nightshade-minho · 4 years

Text

-Blue Book- (11)

Warnings: anger, stress, y/n briefly wants to murder felix, a lot of negative emotions, headaches, light suggestiveness, britney spears cameo (nah just kidding- or am i)

Wc: 4.1k (finally a blue book part that’s longer than 2k)

Stop. Stop thinking about her. Stop thinking about how she’s probably out with Minho right now, having fun and laughing over inside jokes.

Sometimes he wished he could just dig into his brain and remove all traces of you. He simply couldn't think of another way to truly get rid of you, eradicate every remnant that stayed in his brain, reminding him how he’d felt back then.

Years had passed, and he still wasn't over it. There was a tiny part of him that thought maybe seeing you again would calm him down, and remind him that it wasn't a big deal. You'd changed, and he had too. It was time to get over petty high school grievances.

And yet, when he saw you with Minho again...he realized it simply wasn't possible. You were going to plague him for the rest of your life, and he knew it.

"I know pancakes are a weird choice for dinner but- Are you listening to me? Earth to Chan-"

Chan snapped back to reality, blinking as he stared at Felix, who pushed a plate of pancakes towards him, a concerned look on his face.

"I was asking you where you're staying at right now."

"Oh." Chan nodded thankfully, taking the fork and digging in. He was terribly hungry, and he'd missed Felix's cooking. His pancakes were always so soft and fluffy...a lot like him, to be honest.

To be honest, he didn't quite know yet. He hadn't left his parents on good terms, and now he found himself penniless unless he made up with them. Not one to beg, he'd decided to look around for a job. So far, he wasn’t all that successful. There was a heavy weight on his heart preventing him from truly committing to his work. He found it impossible to focus.

Felix sighed, taking a seat opposite him. " Chan...do you not have a place to stay?"

He shook his head finally, his gaze on the plate as he ate. He'd already told Felix the situation with his parents, somewhat. If his perception of Felix was right, he would be overcome with sympathy.

He was right. Felix wrung his fingers, his thoughts racing. He hated seeing the distraught expression on Chan's face. The words were on the tip of his tongue- the only thing stopping him was the thought of how you'd react.

You'd be pissed, beyond doubt.

Felix swallowed. Then again, this was his apartment. You didn't really have the right to oppose him if he wanted to let someone else stay for a bit. Besides, maybe he'd be able to talk some sense into you?

How bad could it be?

"Chan..." He began, inhaling.

"Do you want to stay here? At least until you find a place."

Chan sighed. There it was. He wasn’t surprised to find out he’d predicted correctly. Felix had been his best friend, after all. He knew him like the back of his hand. "Are you sure you...and your roommate...would be fine with it?"

"I'm positive." He lied, scratching the back of his neck as Chan groaned.

He didn't really have another choice. Psyching himself up to agree, Chan sucked in a breath and pushed away his intruding emotions.

"Sure."

***

You knocked on the door, inhaling deeply as you ran through all the different ways you were going to murder Felix in your head. You couldn’t believe it. He really had the audacity to not only invite him over, but also neglect to inform you the same.

Tapping your foot, you rubbed your forehead as the door remained closed. Sighing, you dug into your bag for your keys, procuring them after a few seconds of searching through the crumpled chewing gum packets and loose coins. You really had to clear out your bag sometime.

You entered your apartment, yawning as you shed your coat, heading to the kitchen for a drink. Your throat was dry, your head pounding with stress. Ugh, what a bad day it had been. Marginally better due to the time you’d spent with Minho- but still bad. Chan’s sudden appearance really had put a damper on everything you’d done since then.

As you reached the kitchen, you stopped in your tracks.

Fuck. You turned around immediately when you saw who was sat at the table, an empty plate in front of him as he scrolled through his phone. He hadn’t seen you standing in the doorway. Yet.

Carefully, you started padding away as quietly as possible. Unfortunately, the gods really weren’t in the mood to smile upon you today.

“Y/n?”

His voice was tired, bare of any emotion whatsoever. You twisted your neck to look at him, opening your mouth and closing it. He was staring at you, his eyes devoid of feeling, his lips pressed in a thin line. You had no clue what to say. Looking at his face again brought back memories you’d much rather forget.

“It’s...nice to see you again.” He mumbled, tearing his gaze away from you.

‘Nice’ was really not the word.

“Yeah. How have you been?” You managed to ask, swallowing the lump in your throat. He drummed his fingers on the table top as his mind searched for an appropriate response. You watched him, your heart clenching as you remembered the way his hand felt in yours.

“Fine.” He finally decided to say. “I’ve been fine, more or less.” After all, he was used to lying.

“And you? Having fun with Minho?” There was a slight bite to his voice as he uttered the words, making you raise an eyebrow. Suddenly, the anger you harbored towards him was reignited. What was he implying? It shocked you that he could talk like that, without a trace of apology in his tone. As if it was you who’d betrayed him, and not the other way around.

“For your information, yes. We’re having a lot of fun.” You snapped, turning and leaving the kitchen to go straight to your room. Just read a book, listen to some music and calm yourself down. He’ll be gone soon.

Chan watched you walk away, his hands balling into fists. So you had absolutely no remorse, whatsoever.

He bit his lip, hating the weird amalgamation of emotions that were gripping him like a vice. He’d felt envy flood him as you said it, rubbing it in his face. Shaking his head, he turned back to his phone, biting his lip.

***

You knocked on Felix's door, biting your lip in anger as you waited for him to open it. Tapping your foot, you shook your head. Why was he still here, even? He should be gone by now.

"Looking for Felix?"

You started, turning around with a glare on your face.

Shit. He was way too close to you, his face inches away from yours. All you'd have to do is lean in just the tiniest bit, and your lips would be on his...

"He went out. Errands. Won't be back till tonight."

You groaned, taking a step back as you rolled your eyes. "Okay, whatever."

Chan watched you, an amused smile making its way onto his face. He'd flustered you a little, that much was evident. He wasn't quite sure yet if that was something to be proud of...but it was the little victories that counted, right? A part of him was glad that he still managed to have some sort of effect on you, even after all these years.

"You know if it's important, you can always tell me. Is there anything I can get you?"

You scoffed, shaking your head as you backed up further, your hand on the doorknob. "This is my home." you reminded him, his incredulous sentence rubbing you the wrong way.

Chan almost felt bad for you.

Shrugging, he turned to walk away. "Not anymore."

"Huh?" His words took a while to sink into your brain, and you raised your eyebrow in confusion. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Y/n...is that any way to talk to your new roommate?"

No. No way. Felix wouldn't...

"What?!"

"Not forever." He shrugged, his hand running through his hair. "Just until I find a permanent place to stay. Until then though, I'll be here."

This couldn't be happening. The anger was increasing slowly, rage directed to your roommate as well as the man in front of you.

Chan looked back at you, sighing as he noted the upset expression growing on your face. Did you really hate him that much?

"Look. I'll stay out of your hair." He muttered, his tone clipped. "I don't think it will be that difficult for us to co-exist if we manage to be civil to each other."

You pressed your lips together in a thin line. "Sure. I don't care." You had already planned on remaining in your room for the entirety of his stay, however impractical that would be. You weren’t ready to dig up all that trauma from your teenhood just yet.

Chan gritted his teeth, his eyes searching yours as he thought of what else to say. The atmosphere was tense- too many things left unsaid, half spoken promises lingering in the air between you. It was frustrating, yet Chan held himself back. He was an adult now. There was no space for immaturity or trivial grudges in his life currently- no, he had to stay strong. With his credentials, it would be fairly easy to land a job. He just had to speed the process up, and soon enough he’d be out of this apartment.

So he took a deep breath and gave you a smile, turning around to go back to the kitchen. He prided himself in his decision, a small first step to eliminating his inability to let go.

You watched as he left, chewing on your lip. Your heart hammered against your ribcage as you turned to go back into your room, grabbing your phone and dialing Felix’s number aggressively.

“Where the fuck are you?”

“Um, I left to grab some groceries-”

“Did you really offer to let him stay at our place?” You asked, your tone calm as you gripped the bed sheets.

“W-well...yeah..” You heard him gulp on the line. “It’s just for a few days, Y/n, till he gets a job-”

“And do you know how long that’s going to take?” You hissed, rubbing your temple as you heard his footsteps in the kitchen.

“I...look, Y/n. You have every right to be angry. I’m sorry, I should have checked with you first before making a decision.”

“No shit.”

A sigh. “Look, I won’t be home till evening. Please um...keep it mature. Again, I’m sorry.”

You shook your head, cutting the call and throwing your phone onto the mattress. It was going to be fine, as long as you stayed away. The apartment was small, so you couldn’t avoid running into him, though...whatever. It’d be fine, you’d be able to hold yourself out for a few days, if Felix was to be believed. You rubbed your forehead, groaning.

You were in dire need of a nap.

Sighing, you fell back onto the cushy pillows, curling up on the mattress. Your head was throbbing with the beginnings of a headache. You needed a glass of water, but you weren’t going to leave your room today, at least until Felix comes back.

You hated the way your heart was still pounding, your emotions a jumbled mess. It was natural, right? To be this affected? He was your first love, after all. And he’d betrayed you.

At first, you didn’t want to believe it. There was a part of you that hoped a tiny part of Chan had actually loved you, a part that hoped Minho was lying. But then you’d asked Felix about the ‘bet’, and the guilty look on his face told you everything you needed to know.

Of course it had been suspicious, the popular guy coming up to talk to you- a lonely new kid who barely anyone talked to, especially when half his friend group were cold to you. But the more time you spent with him, the more you had begun to feel like he truly did love you. Was it even possible to fake emotions as well as he had? Chan was a good actor.

After you left, Chan never acknowledged the message you’d sent him. Not at all. You’d poured your heart out, for nothing. It had been the final nail in the coffin, the final incident convincing you that he’d never truly loved you back.

You sighed and sat up to switch the lights off, flooding the room in darkness as you buried your face in the pillow. There was complete silence in the room for a few minutes, and you let out a peaceful hum, snuggling further into the blanket. Sleep was beginning to overtake you slowly, your eyes closing as you slipped further into dreamland. You slept for about an hour, untroubled.

That is, until there was a loud crash from beyond the door, forcing you to shoot up and rub your eyes, anger coursing through you. You threw the blankets off your figure, storming up to your door and flinging it open. Ugh, fuck this. Fuck staying in your room and not causing trouble. You needed an outlet for this pent up anger, or you were going to fucking lose it.

“What the fuck was that?” You called out loudly, only to be returned with complete silence. Standing in the middle of the empty living room, you furrowed your brows in confusion.

The bathroom door opened just as you were ready to turn around and head back into your room. Swiveling around, you glared at Chan as he stepped out, a rather innocent look on his face. Innocent...nothing like the fact that he was fresh out of the shower, naked except for a towel wrapped around his waist.

For a minute, you were rendered dumb. Your eyes watched as his dripping wet hair trailed droplets of water down his torso, down the ridges of his abs and disappearing into the towel. You didn’t even know he looked like that underneath those clothes...

“Hey. Sorry for the noise.” Chan mumbled, pushing his hair back as he closed the door behind him. “The shower caddy fell down randomly. Don’t worry, I fixed it.”

His blank expression slowly transformed into something more devious as he shut the door. He smirked as he observed your expression, his ego boosting as he realized he was the reason you were speechless.

“I- well-” You grunted and shook your head. “You fucked up my nap. Thanks a fucking lot.” You grumbled, crossing your arms as you kept your gaze fixed on his face. “Now if there’s nothing else, I’ll be leaving.” You coughed, voice slightly shaky as you desperately tried to conceal your burning cheeks,

“And...put some clothes on.” You grumbled before heading back. Before you could, though, you felt a hand wrapping around your wrist, pulling you back towards him.

Stopping yourself before you could stumble too close to him, you looked up at him angrily, yanking your wrist away. “What?” You hissed.

“You don’t look too well.” He said, lifting his hand to your forehead. Before he could press his hand to your skin though, you backed away out of his reach.

“I’m perfectly fine. It’s just a tiny headache.” You lied, your head throbbing with a migraine even as you said it.

“Hm.” Chan’s face softened a little as he sighed. “A headache? Do you need water? I have some pills that could help numb the pain.”

You shook your head vehemently. “I don’t want anything you offer me.” You tried to ignore the flash of hurt in his eyes as you said the words. No, Chan wasn’t the victim here, you were. What right did he have to display vulnerability?

“Fine.” Chan opened his mouth, looking like he had more to say. For a second, he contemplated blurting everything out then and there. He wanted you to know the pain he’d been living with through his years...he wanted you to know that despite your betrayal, you were all that was a constant in his mind. And yet, as he continued watching your icy glare, he knew you weren’t in a position to be amicable.

“Get some rest.” He muttered, anger seeping in again at your coldness, mixing with the concern that was still etched into his heart.

“That’s what I was fucking doing before you woke me up so rudely.”

Ugh. God, he really did have enough of your behavior.

“Stop being a brat, Y/n. Just because you’re sick doesn’t mean you get to be snippy with me. You have no right to be angry.”

The fuck? Oh, this entitled prick-

“I have every right to be! This is my house you just barged into, I make the rules here. So shut up and leave me alone.” You spat out, clenching your fists.

Chan felt an unknown urge creep through his being as you continued your remarks, scrunching his eyes shut and trying to calm himself down for a second. Okay, so this definitely wasn’t the sunshiney Y/n he’d once known.

“Felix asked me to stay, I didn’t barge in.. God, you really are a bitch. I’m a guest here, and yet you’re treating me like-”

That was the last straw. You inhaled deeply, feeling your headache grow worse as your anger amplified. You’d had enough. Biting your lip, you shoved past him and headed for the front door. You couldn’t be in the same space as this dickhead for a second longer.

“Where are you going?” His voice was confused, as he turned to look at you storming out in your pajamas.

“Fuck you. Away from here.” You explained, flashing him one last glare over your shoulder as you slammed the door behind you.

Chan stood in the middle of the room, letting out a deep sigh at your sudden departure.

What was he going to tell Felix? He’d promised himself that he’d keep it civil.

He seemed to be breaking a lot of promises lately...

***

You stood outside of the door, leaning against it and trying to calm down your breathing, chest heaving. Just the sight of him brought back memories you wished you could bury. How could you be expected to live in the same place as him without wanting to tear out your eyeballs?

Just when you’d thought you were finally moving on, he barreled his way back into your life. It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried to be mature.

You just wanted him to know you were no longer the meek little optimistic girl you once had been. Adult life has a cruel way of opening your eyes.

Rose colored lenses eventually lead to dismay and disappointment.

***

You didn’t realize you were going to Minho’s apartment until you reached his door, hand poised over the door to knock. Breathing in, you firmly rapped on the wood. A few minutes of silence passed, and you tilted your head in confusion. Minho usually answered the door right away, without too much delay.

You waited a bit before deciding to ring the doorbell, heaving a sigh of relief when the door finally opened, revealing a smiling Minho.

“Hey, thought it was you. I was in the shower.” Clearly. His hair was slightly wet and he’d clearly pulled on the first shirt he could find- unless he actually liked wearing 2009 Britney Spears t-shirts around the house.

Why was the universe chucking so many soaking wet boys at you today? At least Minho was clothed.

You chuckled as you pointed out the motif on the shirt. “’Oops I Did It Again’? Really?”

He shook his head, crossing his arms. “Hey, that music video is a masterpiece. Did you know it was released on my birthday?”

You giggled. “Of course it was.”

He smiled, before standing up straighter. “Wait, why are you here?”

You pursed your lips playfully. “Do I need a reason to visit one of my best friends?”

“Of course you don’t. We just spent time together in the afternoon, though. Is there a reason you’re back so early?” He questioned, placing a finger on his chin and pretending like he was deep in thought. “Oh, got it. You can’t get enough of me.” He said smugly.

You rolled your eyes, walking in as he stood aside to let you in. Minho’s apartment was smaller than the one you shared with Felix, but a lot more nicely decorated. You flopped down onto the sofa, sighing. “That’s not it.” You shook your head. “It’s Chan.”

“Oh. Him.” Minho cleared his throat, crossing his arms as he came to sit down next to you. “What about him?” He asked carefully.

“He’s staying with us.”

“What?” Minho wasn’t sure he’d heard right for a moment, his eyebrows raising slightly.

“Yeah, Felix let him stay. Until he gets a job, apparently.” You groaned, slipping off your shoes and curling your knees up to your chest. “I can’t stand being around him. Not after what he did to me. You understand, right?”

Minho stayed silent for a few minutes, swallowing the lump in his throat as he leaned back. “Right…”

You watched Minho, frowning at his expression. “Anyway, as I said, I couldn’t stay there. Um, can I crash here for a few days? He said he’ll get a job soon and move out, so it’ll be quick.”

Minho’s eyes widened. “Oh? Yeah! You can! You can stay.” He blurted, trying not to seem too eager. His ears turned a light shade of red as he watched you nod in relief, snuggling further into the cushions. “I’ll take the couch.” You mumbled, eyes fluttering as you rubbed your forehead for the millionth time.

“No, you take my bed. I’m alright on the couch.”

You opened an eye, shaking your head. “Minho, this is your home. Unlike Chan, I’m a good house guest.”

“Yeah but... I don’t want you out here on the couch alone. This isn’t exactly a nice neighborhood.”

You sat up, sighing. “I’d feel bad stealing your bed while you sleep on this lumpy couch.”

“Aha! So you admit it’s uncomfortable! That’s it, you’re sleeping in my bed. Besides, it’s big enough for the two of us!”

Minho wished he could take it back almost as soon as he said it. “Um, I mean…”

You raised your eyebrows, shrugging. “Uh, no, it’s okay. I don’t mind.” You sat up, a little shakily as your head swam. “God, my head hurts.”

Minho shot up to his feet, sighing. “Come on, I’ll take you to bed.” He grabbed your hand gently, taking you to his bedroom and making you sit down on the edge. You hummed in content, eyes still closed as you burrowed under the covers, snuggling into Minho’s pillows that faintly smelled of his cologne. It was comforting, and soon you found sleep overtaking you.

Minho sighed as he watched you fall asleep, sitting on the edge of his bed. He was nowhere near sleepy and had originally been planning on making some dinner before you came, but now he didn’t want to leave you alone.

Groaning, he lay down on his mattress, pulling the sheets over his body and making sure to leave a respectful amount of distance between you.

He watched you for a while, your eyelashes fluttering slightly as you slept, chest rising and falling with your breaths.

He didn’t know what he was feeling, exactly. There were strong emotions gripping his heart, most of them towards you, and yet he couldn’t act on any of them. Hell, he couldn’t even comprehend half of them.

Minho turned to face the ceiling, eyes following the tiny crack in the plaster. He couldn’t deny it any longer.

Guilt. The heavy weight sat on his heart was guilt. Thick, all consuming guilt, that threatened to swallow him whole unless he came clean.

He knew he didn’t deserve you...not just because of how he’d acted, but also because of what he was keeping from you. He didn’t deserve for you to accept his apologies, not after the way he’d treated you. Not after he’d kept the complete truth about Chan from you.

Was he being an asshole? Chan was once his friend. A close friend, one he spent every day with. And yet he’d screwed him over.

For a minute, he wondered what would happen if he told you that he’d been the one to make the bet. He’d made Chan continue with it despite his reluctance. He’d noticed Chan actually falling in love with you, and yet had brushed it over.

Would you still be beside him now if you knew?

He doesn’t want to find out. No.

There was moonlight streaming through his window, illuminating the entire room too brightly. The light, combined with the remorse, ensured a sleepless night.

He glanced at you again. At least he’d have you by his side. For now...

#chan angst #chan smut #chan fluff #bang chan angst #bang chan smut #bang chan fluff #chris smut #chris angst #chris fluff #skz smut #skz angst #skz fluff #stray kids smut #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #minho angst #felix fluff #felix angst

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elliesguitarstrings · 4 years

Text

Silence (Part 1/Prologue)

Peter Parker x stark!reader

Summary: You and Peter have been best friends ever since he stepped foot into the avengers compound. After a year of being friends you realize you’ve developed a crush on him, but he doesn’t feel the same way... at least, you don’t think he does.

A/N: This is my first ever post so idk how many people will see it but if you do feel free to send in any requests for Tom Holland or any of his characters and tell me if you like this story - part 2 coming soon!

Warnings: language, awkwardness, a little bit of fluff

italics mean flashbacks

~~~~~~~~

Today was a special day. Well, to you that is. To everyone else, it was just a normal Saturday. But to you, and hopefully to Peter too, it was special.

Today marks one year of you and Peter first meeting. One year since he walked through the glass elevator doors of the Avengers Compound. One year since you met your best friend. You remember it like it was yesterday.

Waking you up from a deep sleep, you hear a loud knock on your door, one you recognized only to be your dad’s.

He opens the door and peeks his head in.

“Hey, get up and come into the living room. There’s someone I want you to meet.”

Barely awake, you respond, “No, let me sleep. It’s too early for this shit.”

“Watch your language young lady! Now get your ass out of bed and be out in ten minutes.”

He walks away, not even bothering to close the door.

You groan into your pillow and proceed to throw it across the room as you reluctantly get out of bed.

Lately you’ve been fed up with everyone in the compound, and you’re taking out all your anger on them. But what else are you supposed to do? Everyone treats you like a kid, but they still expect you to act like an adult. They don’t let you go on missions, but they still make you train. They don’t let you go to actual school, but they make you study twice as hard. Everyone is just so hard on you, especially your dad, and you’re fucking done with it.

You walk into the bathroom and pull your hair up into a quick ponytail, not bothering to brush your mess of hair. Hastily, you brush your teeth and splash some water on your face in an attempt to make yourself look somewhat alive, but the dark circles are still extremely noticeable. You walk back into your bedroom and think about changing out of your hoodie and shorts, but you decide against it. You look halfway decent, and whoever it is that your dad wants you to meet certainly can’t be so important that you have to change into something nice.

After a quick look in the mirror, you slowly make your way into the living room, dreading the coming interaction with another one of your dad’s boring co-workers.

However, when you look up and see a teenage boy sitting next to your dad on the sofa, your mood changes.

Your dad stands up and turns to you, gesturing at the boy.

“Y/N, this is Peter Parker, Spiderman, whatever you want to call him. He’s the newest addition to the team, and he’s moving into the compound in a few days. He’s the same age as you, so I thought you should show him around. So be nice.”

Peter blushes and smiles, giving you a small wave.

Suddenly you regret not changing.

He’s cute. So fucking cute. He has fluffy brown hair, brown puppy dog eyes, the cutest smile, and he’s your age. Your age. Everything about him is perfect.

Realizing that you have been staring for probably a little to long, you speak up.

“Um, hi Peter, I’m Y/N. Uh, it’s- it’s nice to have you here. Sorry I look like shit.”

“Oh, um, thanks.” Peter responds, just as awkwardly as you.

“You don’t look like shit by the way,” he adds, “you look pretty.”

You smile, about to say thank you when your dad interrupts.

“Well, that was really fucking awkward, but I think you two are going to get along just fine. I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it then, see ya around.”

He winks at you as he leaves to go to his lab, and you roll your eyes in return, mentally hitting yourself at how embarrassing this whole interaction has been so far.

You turn to Peter, “So, uh, why don’t I show you around and you can meet everyone.”

“Sounds good to me!” he smiles.

You start in the kitchen and show him around the compound: the movie room, the game room, the pool, the sun room, the training room, the labs, and the bedrooms, introducing him to all of the Avengers along the way. Finally, you stop at the largest spare bedroom, which happens to be right across from yours.

“This is probably gonna be your room. No one really uses it right now but since it’s the biggest one I thought you might want it.”

“Oh, um, thanks, but even the smallest room here is like ten times bigger than my room, so I’d be happy with anything. But since it’s across from you, I’ll take it.”

You blush, not sure if he’s flirting with you or just trying to be nice. Either way, it’s not helping your already developing crush on him.

“So, um, that’s the tour I guess. What do you want to do now?” you ask, hoping he doesn’t want to leave so you can spend more time with him.

“Well Happy isn’t taking me back home until three, so we still have a few hours to do whatever. It doesn’t matter to me.”

“Do you just want to hang out in my room? Maybe watch a movie?”

“Sure! Sounds great!”

The two of you walk across the hall to your room and you open the door, regretting again your poor choice to not clean up this morning. Your bed was a mess, your clothes were strewn everywhere, and your desk was piled high with papers and books.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, my room is such a mess.” you exclaim, rushing to push your clothes in the corner and hastily pull your covers up in a sad attempt to make the bed.

Peter smiles and laughs, “Don’t worry, if you think this is messy, you should see my room. This is nothing.”

You laugh as well, sitting down on your bed and grabbing the TV remote. You pat your bed, motioning for Peter to sit down next to you.

“Y- you want me to sit next to you? Like on your bed?” he asks, clearly shocked.

“Oh, um, yeah. But only if you want. You can sit on the beanbag chair over there instead, I guess. I just thought the bed would be more comfortable. And you would be able to see the TV better.”

“Oh, um, ok. That’s fine.”

He makes his way over to your bed and sits next to you, and you silently turn on the TV, starting to overthink everything.

There was a boy. On. Your. Bed. You weren’t doing anything, but still. You suddenly realized how little interaction you’ve had with people your age. Even girls. You didn’t go to school, so you only hung out with the Avengers. The closest person to your age was Wanda, and even she was a lot older than you.

‘Am I being too forward?’ you started to think to yourself. ‘Should I have not asked him to sit on my bed? What is he thinking right now? Oh my god, this is so bad. He probably thinks I’m so weird. He probably hates me. Fuck.’

When you see him looking in your direction, you decide to stuff the thoughts in the back of your head and try to act as normal as possible.

“So, what should we watch?” you ask.

“Um, do you, uh... do you like Star Wars?”

“Are you kidding me? I LOVE Star Wars!” you exclaim, the tension and awkwardness easing slightly.

“Really? My favorite is A New Hope.”

“No shit! Mine too!”

“Then A New Hope it is I guess!”

You turn on the movie, smiling, and you notice that he scoots a little closer to you, seemingly more comfortable.

A few minutes into the movie, Peter breaks the silence between you two and asks, “So what’s it like living with the Avengers?”

“Oh,” you look away from the TV, “it’s cool I guess. But after a while it’s gotten pretty boring. And really frustrating.”

“Frustrating? Why?”

“It’s just, well, they treat me like a kid all the time. And before you say it, yes, I know I am a kid, but it’s still annoying. There’s no one here even close to my age, I mean fuck, Thor’s like 1500 years old. And none of them know how to talk to me. They act like I’m a toddler even though I’m literally sixteen and they never let me go on missions with them, because they don’t think I’m ready even though I’ve been training since I was like ten – “

You cut yourself off, realizing you’ve been ranting for probably a little too long.

“Sorry about that,” you mumble. “It’s just that I haven’t really had anyone to talk to about this.”

“No! Don’t be sorry. That fucking sucks. Not gonna lie, you’re kinda making me regret moving here if that’s how everyone’s gonna treat me,” he laughs.

“They’re not gonna treat you like that.”

“Why wouldn’t they? I’m the same age as you.”

“Because. You’re a fucking superhero. They don’t give a fuck about your age if you can climb walls and shoot spider webs out of your hands.”

“Well, even if they don’t treat me like a kid then I’ll still back you up.”

He puts a hand on your shoulder and smiles. You blush and smile back.

“Thanks”

“Of course.”

He scoots even closer to you so that your shoulders are barely touching. If this had happened five minutes earlier, you would be freaking out. But now, something is different. You aren’t sure what, but you suddenly feel more calm and comfortable with him around.

You finish the rest of the movie in silence, and you realize you let your head fall onto his shoulder. You were scared he would push your head away, but he didn’t care.

“You awake?” he asks.

“Oh, yeah, sorry. I just didn’t get much sleep last night and my dad woke me up early, well, to meet you.”

He smiles down at you, and suddenly your dad bursts through the door. You scramble to sit up, lifting your head off Peter’s shoulder.

“Hey kid, Happy’s here to – oh?” He stares at the two of you sitting next to each other in your bed, both blushing. “Jesus, you’ve only just met and you already slept together? At least tell me you used protection.”

“DAD, OH MY GOD, NO!” you exclaim, blushing even harder now.

“Mr. Stark, I promise. We- we were just watching a movie. Nothing happened!” Peter assures him.

“Sure, sure,” your dad winks at the two of you.

“Dad, seriously. Nothing happened!” you groan in frustration.

“Whatever. Anyways, Happy’s here to take you back to Queens Pete. Be down in five.” He leaves the room.

“God, that was fucking embarrassing,” Peter laughs getting up from the bed.

“That’s my dad for you.”

You both walk to the door, and before you leave the room, you give him a small hug.

“I’m glad you’re moving in, Peter.”

“Me too,” he smiles, “Friends?”

“Definitely.”

You smile thinking back on the memory. After that day, you and Peter have spent almost every hour of every day together. You’re rarely ever apart, even at night. You sleep with him in his bed, and he sleeps with you in yours. The rest of the team bugs the two of you to get together, but you both agree that you are just friends. Best friends cuddle with each other and kiss each other’s foreheads and play with each other’s hair, right?

#peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #tom holland #peter parker x reader #marvel #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut

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piracytheorist · 3 years

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Small Signs (1/1)

Fandom: Resident Evil 7

Summary: Ethan wakes up, thinking of his wife, who has been missing for three years. Little does he know today will be the first news of her he'll get since she disappeared.

Word count: 1.4k AO3

Another dull day.

Another day Ethan wakes up and the other side of the bed is cold.

One would think that he would get used to it, after all this time. But no. Some days he still finds himself waking up and instinctively reaching to hold her.

She always responded to his touch, no matter how deep her sleep. She would sigh and move her body closer to him, then nestle there until she actually woke. He would wait for her to wake up, work honestly be damned, he'd think sometimes.

He stretches his arm, laying it where she would've been, hand on the pillow, fingers running softly over the fabric. He would’ve been mad to think that her scent could have stayed on it after three years.

He sighs. Three years of confusion.

Work be damned, he used to think, but it's the only thing that has managed to keep his mind occupied. His co-workers realized quickly that he was dealing with Mia's disappearance on his own way and time, and they left him alone about all the "You should move on" stuff as soon as they started.

Not that he doesn't appreciate their sympathy. But they’re not in the know.

Even their friends feel distanced to him now. They’ve mourned Mia already, and he’s now the odd one out. He still enjoys their company, but despite the remarks on how it isn't too early to start going out again being rare, sometimes it feels like they can’t get it.

He just wishes he had any fucking way to explain to them the very last message he got from Mia.

"Stay away. Forget that you ever knew me. Have a good life."

It still sends shivers down his spine to think of it. He remembers the moment he watched it the first time clear as ever. How he'd stayed frozen, almost shivering from shock, in front of his computer, for who knows how long after the video had ended. The sirens blaring in the background. Mia's distraught, tired, dirty face. Her telling him to forget her. Completely. As if she never existed.

A part of him – a small one, but a part nonetheless – was almost angry at her request. She'd lied to him – and admitted so – and after all those years of being together, she just expected him to forget all about it? Their love? Her admittance? Her guilt?

Her?

He groans in frustration. Despite anything else, he feels guilty for being even that little angry at her. And for the life of him, he can’t believe she didn’t love him. She couldn’t have just left him… there must have been another reason.

Maybe he should do as she said and have a good life. Maybe he should really move on. Maybe he should just do as their friends want to tell him but won't.

But still... If they had known...

The police had instructed him to not tell anyone about Mia's last video. Even if they hadn't, he still had no idea how to even start that conversation.

"Yeah, first she sent me that sweet message, with the promise of coming back soon, and that same night she sent me this one and it scared the shit out of me. And then she disappeared without a trace. Can you see now why I can't really move on?"

If only he knew what happened. Without a body found, he believes he'll spend eternity hoping he'll get news of her. Not that a body is difficult to get lost and destroyed to the point of no recognition, that fucking voice he hasn’t been able to mute even three years later, says again.

If only he could just know what happened. How, or why she disappeared. If she died, at least if it was quick and painless. At this point he's gotten used to the jab inside his chest at the thought of her actually being dead. It still hurts as much as first, but the pain comes less often and more anticipated.

He wants answers. What was with the creepy video, why she lied to him, what she hid from him.

Who is he kidding? Most of all, he wants her.

It isn't like that every day. He gets up with his alarm clock and loses himself in the morning prep routine, focuses on work, goes back home and finds ways to spend the day by either cleaning, tidying up, maybe distracting himself with a beer with friends and then goes to sleep, hoping the next day will provide opportunities for distractions again.

He's given up on the piano. He was pretty mediocre at it already, so it's not like he has any memories of himself playing exquisite sonatas and Mia sitting next to him, being entranced by his fingers dancing across the keys. But he's supposed to be happy for it. He's supposed to give heart to it.

He doesn't feel like he has much of a heart left. Sad thought, he's aware. But it's also true.

The alarm clock on his phone finally rings. He silences it and gets up.

That one small difference, waking up a few minutes before the alarm, stains his entire day. When he opens the cupboard to take the coffee jar, his eyes fall on the sugar jar and he remembers how Mia took her coffee with sugar, and how that jar has barely seen any use in the past three years. When he washes his now empty coffee mug, the lack of a second cup to wash brings a feeling of emptiness in him. When he brushes his teeth, Mia’s old toothbrush is almost taunting him. He didn’t throw it away at first, because, well, she could have returned at any time, right? After the designated three months since she’d first used it passed, he felt as if throwing it away would send out a sign of resignation to the universe, or something. So there it stays and haunts him.

He’s almost managed to forget about that and ignore its existence. But today, being such a day, when he opens the towel cupboard to take out a new one, it catches his eye. An unopened pregnancy test box, probably expired by now.

The last pregnancy test Mia’d had was negative. “When I come back, we’ll try again. It will be positive, then. I know it,” she’d said.

He just had to change the towels today of all days, didn’t he?

He thinks that getting out of the apartment will make him feel better, with some – relatively – clean air in his lungs. Instead, it makes him feel emptier. No goodbye kiss, no see you later, her house keys still and always missing.

Even with work he can't get his mind off. Especially when an old man calls him for help with his computer and starts talking about how it was a gift from his lovely wife.

Is it too much, that he once dreamed – and sometimes, his traitorous mind still dreams – of himself and Mia growing into an adorable old couple like them? Is it because he was so damn happy, that the universe decided a different path for him?

Ethan feels thankful, albeit reluctant, when Jim invites him out for drinks that night.

Had he been asked, he'd never believe that his sullen mood that day would be a sign. A sign that, while Jim would be talking about a particularly demanding and annoying customer, Ethan's phone would ring with a notification. That he'd turn it on and in a shocked state he'd see that he got an email. From Mia.

Dulvey, Louisiana. Baker Farm. Come get me.

It's her account, he knows it. He even knows the password; he had logged in a few times over the past three years in the frail hope it would somehow bring her to him. Last time was one and a half month ago, on their anniversary.

He doesn't even stop to think. Louisiana, fuck, that's nearly across the country.

Well, no time to waste then. He starts picking up his stuff.

"You okay?" Jim asks.

"Yeah. I- I gotta go."

"Something wrong?"

"No, I just- I gotta go."

"Ethan, what the hell?"

What the hell indeed.

He nearly runs to the exit, not looking back at his friend.

Mia is out there, calling out to him, and he's going to get her back.

A/N: Boi has no single clue what nightmare he's getting himself into XD

Anyway, I headcanon that Ethan plays a bit of piano. There are enough appearances of pianos both in RE7 and RE8 (and even a puzzle with one) so I'm going with that. I feel that it's just a hobby to him, so practicing everyday is not his priority, and after Mia disappeared it would just feel wrong to him. Boi's sentimental af.

I looked all over the game's credits, and I couldn't find if the dude Ethan calls at the begining of the game has a name (or even who voices him, lol), so I gave him one myself. I just thought it'd be cool to tie it in that way.

Also, hey, this is the first time I write for this fandom. Yay me! Here's to probably writing more fic!

#piracytheorist writes #Ethan Winters #Mithan #Resident Evil #Resident Evil 7 #re ff #re7 ff #I have no single clue how to tag this lmao #writing for new fandoms be like that #I'm expanding my fandoms list how cool is that

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angelicyoongie · 4 years

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desolate (3)

— summary: you just wanted a cute little normal cat to keep you company. so, you're not really sure how you ended up with the grumpiest hybrid on earth that seems hellbent on making your life difficult.

— pairing: cat hybrid yoongi x reader

— genre: angst, fluff, eventual smut

— word count: 4.3k

— tag list: @mrcleanheichou @ladymidnightt @cheese123344 @xanny91 @dinorahrodriguez @best-space-boy @dulcaet @moccahobi @keijaycreates @staytrillswag @xsmilebitesx @serendipityoreuphoria @jiminot7

Part one Part two Part four Part five Part six Part seven Part eight Part nine Part ten (M) Part eleven Part twelve Part thirteen Part fourteen (M)

“We’re still on for tonight, right?” Jihyo’s head suddenly pops up over her computer screen, voice barely above a whisper as she sneaks a few looks around the office. The atmosphere is tenser than normal today, and it seems like your co-workers are almost afraid to breathe every time your boss storms through the open office.

You think you overheard someone talking about a few computers being hacked into from inside the company, but you’re not sure. Either way, you figure it’s a good idea to stay on the low and out of your boss' way as much as possible, unless you want to get chewed up and spit out for literally just existing.

You give Jihyo a thumbs up, eyes glued to your screen just in case someone is watching. The thought of having a girl’s night with Jihyo and Sana definitely brightens your mood enough to make it through until lunch. You already have a few movies picked out that you’ve been meaning to watch for ages, and you can’t wait to just relax and spend some time with your friend and her hybrid.

You and Jihyo both decide to eat lunch outside, braving the cold autumn winds to escape the stifling mood of the office. You find a little coffee shop that isn’t too far away, giving you decent time to eat and talk before you need to head back.

“So, how’s your little black menace doing?” Jihyo asks with a small laugh as she places a few pastries on her plate. You shrug, reacting out for a stuffed croissant. Your sore back definitely seems to point to your kitty warming up to you, considering you ended up sleeping on the couch all night with him curled up on top of your stomach. But then again, he scurried off underneath the couch with a low grumble as soon as you woke up, so you feel like it’s hard to say. You’ve never met a cat before that’s so hot and cold.

“I don’t know,” You admit, moving behind Jihyo in line to pay for your food.

“He seems to tolerate me one second and then hate me the next .. It’s hard to say,” You frown.

“Y/N ..” Jihyo pauses, her shoulders tensing before she continues, “Maybe you should consider giving him back to the shelter? Not to be mean, but you look horrible. You seem sadder than you were before you even got a cat, and news flash, you’re supposed to feel happier - not miserable,” Jihyo throws you a look over her shoulder as she moves to pay, concerned eyes briefly locking onto yours.

You feel the clump in your stomach grow, the anxious feeling you haven’t been able to shake off completely since you brought your cat home becoming bigger. Maybe you aren’t the right home for him. Maybe Jihyo is right ..

“I guess,” You mutter as Jihyo steps aside to let you pay. You can almost feel the soft fur against your fingers as you pick up your plate, uncertainty gnawing away at your thoughts as you both find a table to share.

“But I still need to try a little longer. I’m sure he’s had a rough time before he came to the shelter, stuff like that isn’t cured over night,” You reason, the tension in your body loosing up just a tad. You will take him back to the shelter if it doesn’t get better between you two, but you need to at least try first.

“A month then,” Jihyo proposes.

“If things haven’t improved between you in a month, then you take him back to the shelter. I hate seeing you so down,” She pouts, hand reaching out to squeeze yours before she starts eating her lunch.

You take a bite of your own pastry, mulling the idea over in your head as you eat. A month seems reasonable. It’ll give your cat time to settle down a little, and if he’s still so afraid that he hides from you after all those weeks, then it’s probably for the best to bring him back.

“Alright, deal. One month,” You give Jihyo a nod, your mind already racing to come up with plans of how to make your cat feel more at home.

Unsurprisingly, the rest of the workday is just as stiff as the first half.

“I never thought this day would end,” You groan as you and Jihyo step outside, your shoulders aching from how tense you’ve been all day.

“Tell me about it,” Jihyo huffs. Her face lights up as she spots the waiting car, probably eager to get inside and remove those god awful heels the company forces you to wear as part of your unofficial uniform.

“I’ll head off now. Text me what kind of snacks you want me to bring, okay?” Jihyo flashes you a bright smile and a wave before she’s off, climbing into the passenger seat of the car as fast as she can manage.

“I’ll be at your place at seven!” Jihyo yells out of the window as the car takes off, leaving you behind in whirlwind of dust and fallen leaves. You sigh as you turn, beginning your journey home. Your apartment is around a thirty-minute walk from work if you’re wearing good shoes, but with these heels it's probably closer to forty-five.

You would normally take the bus, but since you need to stop by a mart and get groceries, it’s honestly better to just sacrifice your feet and take a more direct route home. Thankfully the mart isn’t too busy when you get there, and you quickly find all the things you need for the dinner tonight, as well as some food to get you through the rest of the weekend.

You pause as you pass by the chicken section; hand reaching out for the chicken breasts your cat enjoyed so much before you even realize what you’re doing.

“He’ll probably be angry at me after tonight,” You reason, and food seems like the best bribery for a cat that doesn’t like to be pet.

Your arms are shaking by the time you’ve made it up the stairs to your apartment, shirt clinging uncomfortably to your back from the light sweat you’ve managed to work up.

You quickly unlock your door and step inside, bags falling to the ground with a heavy thump as you turn around. The first thing you see in the dark hallway is golden eyes staring straight at you, the black fur almost blending into the shadows. You let out a startled squeak, hand flying to your chest to calm your racing heart.

“I know I’m late kitty, I’m sorry,” You say after taking a deep breath, a small smile on your face as you try to convey just how bad you feel for delaying his dinner. You see him give a small flick of his tail, the only indicator that he’s actually listening to you as you reach down to bring your bags to the kitchen.

You don't hear him follow you, but you can feel those golden eyes tracking you as you move around the kitchen putting your groceries away. You throw a quick glance at the clock hanging over your stove as you shove the rest of the food inside the fridge.

“Shit!” You only have half an hour until your guests arrive, and you desperately need a quick shower before you do anything else. You rush towards your bathroom, just narrowly missing bumping into your cat that’s peaking at you around the corner. He hisses at the close proximity, and you let a string of sorry’s hang in the air behind you as you hurry inside, wrestling with the buttons on your shirt as you go.

You’re practically out of breath as you wrap a towel around your damp body, holding it in place as you scurry to your bedroom to find some clothes to wear. You don’t remember leaving your door open before you left for work, but you probably just didn’t close it properly. You pay it no mind as you quickly grab some fresh underwear and sweats from your closet, it’s not that big of a deal anyway.

You slip your underwear on under your towel, throwing the pants behind you on to the bed as your search for your favourite hoodie. You frown as you rummage through your clothes, hoodie nowhere in sight. You’re sure you washed it a few days ago, so it doesn’t make sense that it’s just gone. You huff, settling for throwing on a cosy sweater instead. Your hoodie search will have to be resumed later.

You can see a black ball of fur out of the corner of your eye as you tug on your pants, your cat having moved to scowl at you from the hallway, golden eyes narrowed as they watch you get dressed.

“I promise I’m making your food now kitty,” Your cat glares at you before he turns around and leaves, the motion a little weird and eerily inhuman. You could’ve sworn it almost rolled its eyes at you .. But you don’t have time to think about it, the encounter already being pushed into the back of your mind as you hurry to start making dinner.

You get the chicken ready first, setting some aside to cool as you add the rest to the dish you’re making. Jihyo sent you a recipe that apparently Sana loves, and since you figure you’ll probably be seeing a lot of each other from now on, you really want to make your friend’s hybrid like you.

“Kitty?” You call out as you place in the dish in the oven. You hear a soft disgruntled meow coming from the living room, and it’s not that hard to guess where he might be hiding. You only have a few minutes until your guests arrive, but it should be enough time for your cat to finish eating.

You bring the plate out into the living room, placing it down a little further away from the couch than you did last time. There’s a few seconds where nothing happens, the apartment quiet aside from the soft noise outside of your window.

You hear another annoyed meow before your cat emerges, and he practically gives you the cat equivalent of the stink eye as he crouches down to eat. He must’ve realized that you’re trying to coax him out from under the couch, and it seems like he isn’t too happy about it.

You busy yourself with straightening out the pillows on the couch as he eats, trying to make your small living room look a little less cramped and more put together.

“Kitty, you need to be on your best behaviour tonight,” You see a fluffy ear swivel your way as you speak.

“My friend Jihyo and her hybrid are coming over, so please don’t hiss at them, okay? Jihyo seems to dislike you enough already, and I’m sure she’ll force me to give you up if she thinks you’re dangerous,” You grimace as you fluff out the last pillow, missing how your cat’s head snaps up to look at you with wide eyes just as the door bell rings.

“Please behave kitty,” You murmur softly as you pick up the empty plate from the floor, your cat scurrying back under the couch as you drop the plate off in the kitchen. You really hope he won’t react too badly to Sana considering she’s a dog hybrid, but as long as she appears in her human form you’re sure your cat won’t mind it too much.

But of course you should’ve known that was too much to ask for.

As soon as you open the door, a fluffy white ball of fur flies through the opening, Jihyo stumbling in behind it. The little Pomeranian takes off down the hallway, feet clicking against the hardwood floor as she runs through your apartment.

“Sana!” Jihyo calls out, bags of snacks stuffed under her arms as she hurries in after her. You quickly lock the door and follow them, a bad feeling settling in your stomach as the apartment grows too quiet again. You freeze beside Jihyo as you reach the living room, eyes widening in horror as you see Sana and your cat growling at each other near the couch.

Your cat is seemingly furious, black fur standing on edge and teeth barred to mimic the look on Sana’s face. The low hiss rumbling in his chest seem to grow louder and louder, and you see Sana’s posture turning more and more rigid the longer they keep eye contact. They seem to be squaring up to fight, and you have absolutely no intention on letting that happen.

“Jihyo!” You hiss, elbowing her in the side. “Do something about Sana!”

“I don’t know what to do! She’s never been like this before!” She hisses back, not daring to tear her eyes away from the increasingly more agitated animals.

“I’ll grab her,” You say, the dog hybrid too busy growling to notice what you’re saying. Jihyo nods, a nervous expression on her face as you take a step closer. Sana doesn’t see you, but your cat does, and that brief second his eyes flicker to you seems to be enough of an opening for Sana to attack.

You lurch forward, barely managing to scoop Sana up before she has the chance to snap after your cat. You can tell your cat isn’t ready to give up the fight, its golden eyes narrowing in on you and the squirming dog in your arms.

“No kitty!” You give him a glare, but it’s like he isn’t seeing you at all, just the white fluff that seems to be threating his territory. You quickly pass Sana on to Jihyo; bags of snacks falling to the floor as she hurriedly brings her hybrid into your room to separate them. At the sound of the door clicking shut, your cat visibly relaxes, eyes finally seeing you instead of burning right through.

“Kitty,” You warn, voice stern and your hands on your hips as you stare down at him. Your cat holds your stare for a short while before it almost sounds like he huffs in annoyance. He ignores your attempt at a scolding, and instead chooses to lick his paw and clean his face while you watch in disbelief.

“Fine. Why am I even trying, you’re just a cat,” You tut. You feel a little silly, especially since you’re trying to scold an animal that doesn’t even understand what you’re saying.

“Y/N?” Jihyo’s voice calls out to you from behind the closed door. “Can we come out? Sana’s shifted.”

“Yeah, come on out,” As soon as the words leave your lips, the door flies open. You barely get a glimpse of Sana before she crashes into your arms, arms wound around your body so tightly it almost hurts to breathe.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to be a bad dog,” Sana buries her face in your chest, tears staining your sweater as she trembles. Jihyo sends you a sad look over her shoulder, a little pout on her lips that seems to be begging you to forgive her. You manage to free your arms enough to wrap them around her, awkwardly patting her back as she cries.

“Shh, it’s okay. I’m not mad,” You say, but that only seems to make Sana cry harder.

“You’re so nice! And I’m such a bad dog, I’m so sorry!”

“Sana ..” Jihyo tries, but her voice only makes Sana cling harder to you.

“I just wanted to protect you! I smelled him inside and I didn’t want him to hurt you,” Sana pulls back enough to look up at you with her big glossy puppy eyes, fluffy ears glued down against her light hair.

“It’s okay, he’s just a kitty Sana, he won’t hurt me,” You smile, reaching up to pat her head affectionately.

“No! He’s not! He’s–” A loud hiss suddenly interrupts Sana, the sound scaring her enough to make her run back to Jihyo. She cowers behind her back, cheek pressed against Jihyo's shoulder as she refuses to look at your cat.

You’re about to scold him again for scaring her, but the words get caught in your throat as you feel something brush against your legs. You look down in shock to find your cat rubbing himself against your sweats, tail curling around your leg as he moves around.

“Uhm, does he normally do that?” Jihyo raises an eyebrow, the conversation you two had earlier in the day fresh in her mind.

“No?” You look at her with wide eyes as your cat raises its back, eyes blinking up at you. Does it want you to .. You slowly reach down with your hand, hesitating before your fingers can brush against the black fur.

Your cat doesn’t seem to mind your hand coming closer, but you still hold your breath as your fingers finally touches the silky fur, running a few fingers along his spine in a quick pat. Your cat freezes at the contact, body locking up underneath your fingertips as they run along his back.

“Sorry kitty,” You snatch your hand away, stepping back to give your cat some space. Sana is still hiding behind a dumbfound Jihyo, and you feel terrible that your evening started out in the way that it did.

“Let’s grab some dinner, it should be done by now! I made your favourite,” You smile kindly at Sana as her eyes hesitantly meet yours.

“Really?” You can see her tail wagging slowly back and forth, a small smile spreading across her lips at the thought of food.

“Yeah, let’s eat in the kitchen,” You laugh as Sana starts pushing Jihyo sideways in the direction of the kitchen, using her owner as a shield against your cat the whole way. Thankfully your cat stays in the living room during dinner, but you can see Sana’s apprehension returning the moment you suggest watching a movie. However as you walk into the living room, he’s nowhere to be found. You even sneak a quick peak under the couch, and there’s no kitty hiding there either.

You shrug, quickly getting the snacks the girls brought ready, and putting on the movie all of you decided you want to watch. You and Jihyo have taken over the small couch while Sana has curled up in the chair next to it.

“Sana?” You call out, “You know there’s room on the couch if you want to sit here?” You see her ears perk up, tail wagging as she looks at Jihyo for permission.

“Can I?” She asks, eyes bright at the thought of being allowed to snuggle up to the both of you.

You hear a dull thud from your bedroom, your cat quickly shimmying out between the crack in the door. So that’s where he was, you think.

He bolts over to the couch before Jihyo can even open her mouth, quickly jumping up into your lap and making himself at home. Your hands are frozen by your side, mouth hanging open in surprise as you watch him lie down and start kneading your shirt.

“Kitty?” You ask, but the only response you get is an ear twitching in your direction. You can tell that your cat’s eyes are trained on Sana, golden eyes barely blinking as his claws dig deeper into the fabric of your sweater. Maybe he understands a little more than you first thought.

“Kitty?” Jihyo snaps your attention to her, a questioning look on her face. “You haven’t named him yet?”

You shrug, lowering a hand to gently scratch across your cat’s head. This time he doesn’t freeze up, and your smile grows a little goofy as you feel him snuggle closer to your hand.

“No? I don’t know, none of the names I’ve thought of seems to fit him.”

“Well, it’s not like he’s gonna tell you himself,” Jihyo snorts, reaching out for the popcorn that’s placed on the table in front of you.

“I guess not,” You giggle, amused by how pliant your cat has gone in your hands. You’re practically supporting his head in your hand, and it’s obvious that he’s enjoying the petting by the low slightly broken attempts at purring your hear coming from his chest. But he’s still refusing to look away from Sana, eyes never closing fully despite how sleepy he seems.

“Yeah .. That would be weird,” Sana gives you both an uncomfortable chuckle, eyes flickering between your cat and the TV. You spend most of the movie mesmerized at the black fur beneath your fingertips, eyes hardly straying from the cat in your lap. He seems much nicer and softer like this, and you can hardly believe that it’s the same cat that attacked your arm just a week ago.

As the movie goes on, you often find yourself chiming in a beat too late when the two other laugh, earning you a few weird looks and eye rolls. But how can they fault you for not paying attention when you’ve got a lap full of a black fluffycuddly cat? It would be a crime to not pay attention to him.

The movie slowly comes to an end, the snacks on the table half eaten, and Sana’s ears drooping down sleepily. You’re about to suggest putting on another one, feeling a little bad that you basically ignored the whole movie aspect of a movienight, but Jihyo waves you off before you can even speak.

“We’ve all had a rough day, maybe it’s better to call it a night?” She reaches over to run her fingers through Sana’s hair, a tender smile on her lips that makes something ache inside your chest.

“Sure,” Come to think of it, you are pretty tired yourself. Work was stressful and almost having your kitty and Sana fight definitely didn’t lessen the tension you’ve been feeling in your body all day either. You gently ease your cat off your lap, but despite its sleepy protests it quickly settles down on the couch as it realizes that your guests are leaving.

“I had a nice evening despite .. the little hiccup at the beginning,” You smile, reaching up to ruffle Sana’s hair. A squeak of surprise leaves your lips as she suddenly scoops you up in another hug. She rubs her face against your neck as you pat her head, the dog hybrid really being too cute for her own good.

“Please be careful okay? You don’t know– I-I don’t trust him,” Sana shoots a glare in the direction of the living room, and your building amusement at her distain for your cat dies down as you see the seriousness in her eyes.

“Of course,” You give her hand a squeeze, the tone of her voice making something weird tug in your stomach.

“I’ll see you on Monday,” You give Jihyo a quick hug before you wave them off, a sigh leaving your lips as you lock the door behind you. Sana’s expression keeps floating around in your head, and you can’t seem to shake it no matter how hard you try.

You pause as you enter the living room, your cat blinking sleepily at you from the couch. You don’t really see how he can do anything bad aside from being moody and a little mean, but Sana does have actual animal genes and you don’t. You’re just not sure if hers are extra sceptical because she’s a dog and your cat is well, a cat.

“Night kitty,” You murmur as you turn off the lights, leaving the clean up for tomorrow. You hear a low hiss behind you just as you turn to close the door, a black paw scratching through the crack. Your cat has never shown any interest in your bedroom before, so you open the door, curious to see what he wants.

Your cat doesn’t even spare you a second glance as he prances inside, he just head directly for your bed and curls up in the middle of it. You roll your eyes at his shift in personality, quickly tugging off your clothes to find a shirt to sleep in.

You suddenly feel oddly exposed in your room, like someone’s gaze is watching you intently. A quick look back at the bed confirms that your cat is already asleep, eyes closed and tail tucked up over them, but you still tug on your shirt before you remove your bra, the weird notion not really going away.

You just chalk it up to Sana’s words making you a little paranoid, and you shake your head as you carefully slide into bed.

You end up practically curled around your cat, the position not very comfortable, but you’re unwilling to disturb him now that he's has finally fallen asleep. You guess all those memes about people letting their animals hog their beds had some truth to them after all.

It doesn’t take long for the exhaustion of the day to catch up with you, quickly pulling you under into a restful sleep.

There’s a wet sensation of something cold dragging against your skin, not really enough to wake you up, but it still drags you out of the dream you had. You feel it moving across your neck and collar bones, and your sleep-riddled brain barely makes the connection that it seems to be covering up the areas that Sana rubbed her face against earlier.

You huff, snuggling your face deeper into your pillow.

You’re pretty sure you fall back asleep, because the last thing you remember from your dream is a hot breath spilling against your ear, and a low gruff voice whispering Yoongi.

- - - - Hello! Hope you enjoyed the third chapter of desolate! I know things are building up a little slow, but we're getting there! The next chapter will have some surprises :)

My inbox is always open if you want to chat about the story or just fics or life in general! See you all soon!

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