#so fucking excited for you guys to read the next chap

[jotaroslooseeyebrowhair]

(Un)dead beat dad (Chapter 2)

This is a long one, so be prepared :) part 1 chap 3

TW: ref to violence, surgical operations, gore, panic attacks, please tell me anything I missed :)

Alfred feels his personal phone vibrate in his pocket, he stopped dusting the already-clean dresser, lifting the phone to his face knowing that only a select few had his contact information. He stared at the number he had long since memorized for a second before opening the message.

XXX-XXX-XXXX: Alfie, I need help

XXX-XXX-XXXX: Is anyone else home right now

No, Master Jason, I’m afraid everyone is on patrol at the moment. :You

May I ask why? :You

XXX-XXX-XXXX: perfect

XXX-XXX-XXXX: could you grab some med supplies and meet me in the Batcave?

Alfred stared at the phone and sighed. Setting down the feather duster he was holding, he walks towards the grandfather clock and enters the Batcave. He feels another vibration in his pocket and reaches for his phone.

XXX-XXX-XXXX: could you not tell B? Or anyone else?

XXX-XXX-XXXX: please?

Of course, Master Jason. I Will have everything ready for you when you get here. :You

XXX-XXX-XXXX: your a lifesaver, Alfie

Unfortunately, I am well aware. :You

Alfred chuckled as he slipped the phone back into his pocket, continuing to gather more medical supplies for Jason. Alfred had finally finished setting up quite literally everything he could, when he heard Jason's bike come into the cave. It turned off and he could hear quick running footsteps toward himself. Alfred turned and walked until he could spot Jason, seeing him in his full red hood regalia (omitting) the mask. What really caught his attention, though, was the child in his arms, looking to be seven at the oldest. 

“Oh? You failed to mention we were having a guest.” Alfred said, quickly leading Jason toward the medical supplies. Once he turned the corner into the faux medical room though, he heard the sounds of struggle behind him. Alfred turned around, seeing the small boy thrashing in Jason's arms, trying to get away from the room. Jason immediately turned his back to the door and placed the child on the floor, softly talking to the child, words Alfred could not hear. The room clearly upset the child, so Alfred nearly closed the door, keeping it just barely open, but closed enough that the boy couldn’t see inside. 

Jason turned around and motioned to Alfred, “This, Danny, Is my grandfather I mentioned. His name is Alfred, he patches me up whenever I get hurt a little too bad.” The small boy had tear tracks on his eyes and darted them towards Alfred, scanning him, threat assessing. The boy was scared. Alfred put on his nicest smile and lowered himself to his knees like his grandson.

“Indeed. I have had to patch up the young master quite a few times. I have patched up others as well. I assume The young master brought you to me for medical attention?” Alfred said in a soft voice, he didn’t wish to scare the child after all. The boy simply nodded his head and scanned the rest of the cave. The boy looked at Jason and pursed his lips. “You clearly need attention but are unwilling to go into the medical bay. Would you prefer I tend to your wounds out here in the main cave instead?”

The boy looked to Jason, searching Jason's eyes. After seemingly finding what he was searching for, he turned his head back towards Alfred. Still gripping tightly onto Jason's shirt, the boy nodded his head. Jason turned his head slightly towards Alfred and smiled. Jason looked back down at the boy and smiled, talking to him softly again.

“Alfred's going to have to assess your injuries if that's okay with you? So he knows what to grab and what to leave?” Jason said in a soft voice. The boy stared at Alfred again for a moment, Alfred felt like something was staring at him. Judging him. Deciding whether he should live or die. Deciding whether he would spend eternity suffering or in paradise. Then suddenly, as if it was never there in the first place, the feeling was gone. Alfred simply smiled and got to his feet once again, slowly walking towards the two in front of him under the young boy's gaze. Alfred stopped just beside Jason and lowered himself to the floor again.

“Now, could I get a name, young sir?” Alfred said with a smile, internally frowning at the ever-growing stain of blood on the boy's shirt that was several sizes too big. The boy looked at the ground for a moment, glancing back at Jason for a moment once more before muttering under his breath, his voice so scratchy and quiet you can't hear him. “What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you,” Alfred said to the young boy.

The boy thought for a second, then lifted one of his hands and shakily signed out some letters. ‘D. A. N. N. Y.’ It was clear the boy hadn’t used sign much but knew enough to communicate. The other hand still tightly wound inside Jason's jacket.

Alfred smiled at him, “Alright then Master Danny, would it be alright if I removed your shirt and assessed your wounds?” The boy took a careful step back and looked at Jason again, tightening his hold on the masked man. Jason placed a careful hand on the kid's back and smiled. 

“I’ll be right here Danny, okay? And if you want to take a minute then we can stop and wait. We just want to make sure that you’re okay.” Jason said in a soft voice again. The boy closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He nodded and laid down on the ground on his back, tugging on Jason’s jacket and clenching his other hand tightly. Danny let out a small pained breath and stuck his empty arm up above his head. Alfred carefully lifted the boy's shirt from him, letting out a gasp as he saw what was causing all the blood, Jason's eyes flashing a violent green. The boy underneath him flinched at the gasp and opened his eyes, scanning the two adults above him in panic, letting go of Jason and using his legs to scoot himself back, one of his arms pushing him faster backward, the other holding his organs in. Danny’s breathing picked up as his pupils dilated, the temperature in the cave decreasing rapidly as frost formed underneath him.

Alfred was the one to recover first, lowering himself further and turning his hands up, showing he wasn’t a threat. He let a small smile on his face, speaking softly to the child in front of him, “It’s perfectly alright Master Danny. I apologize for reacting as I did, I was a little shocked. I mean no harm and simply want to help you,” Alfred said with a smile. 

Jason recovered next, seeing the scared child in front of him. Jason had closed his eyes while Alfred was talking to calm himself down. Jason looked at the kid in front of him, “It’s okay Danny, I promise you we won't hurt you,” Jason said with a smile. The boy in front of him was still rapidly breathing, and Jason thought about what he had learned in (elephant??) and looked at the boy again. “Okay, Danny, You’re having a panic attack and we’re gonna need you to calm down, right? Can you tell me five things you can see?” 

Danny looked like he was barely registering the words, Jason thought the boy wasn’t able to hear him until the boy’s eyes flipped around the cave, focusing on each thing for a second before flipping to the next. Jason. Alfred. Shirt. Bat. Floor. Jason smiled at the boy.

“Alright Danny, next, four things you can feel.” Jason said with a smile, scooting closer to Danny.

Danny had moved one of his arms, feeling around him. Floor. Pants. Hair. Blood.

“You’re doing amazing Danny, next, three things you can hear.” Jason scooted closer again.

Danny closed his eyes, focusing. Bats. Jason's Heartbeat. Computer beeping.

“Fantastic Danny, Two things you can smell.” Jason closed the distance but sat just to the side of Danny.

Danny kept his eyes closed but took a shaky breath, still recovering from the heavy breathing. Wet cave. Sweat.

“Good job Danny, now finally, one thing you can taste.” Jason carefully placed a hand on Danny’s shoulder. Danny flinched but it wasn’t as hard as it had been.

Danny took a second and bit down. Blood.

He slowly opened his eyes and looked at Jason, nodding his shaking head. Jason smiled down at him.

“It’s okay Danny. We don’t judge you and we won’t hurt you, I promise.” Jason told Danny. The small boy, however, still looked nervous, ready to bolt at the nearest sign of a threat. Jason glanced at Alfred and sighed. Jason reached down and pulled up his shirt, staring at Danny, “you know how I said Alfred helps me? He really does patch me up.” Jason lied, motioning to the large Y-shaped scar on his chest. Danny visibly relaxed, he was still definitely on edge, but hey, progress. Jason looked at the boy in front of him. “Would it be alright if we patched you up now?”

Danny looked at Alfred and nervously nodded his head.

“Master Danny, It seems I’ll have to sew you up. Do you know your tolerance for anesthesia?” Alfred calmly asked the boy. 

Danny nodded his head ‘yes’, but stopped for a moment. He shook his head ‘no’ and slowly signed with his free hand, ‘doesn’t work.’

“They don’t work on you?” Alfred asked Danny, who only shook his head again, “Do you know why, Master Danny?” Danny seemed to open his mouth for a moment, then nodded his head, glancing at the floor.

Jason took a moment to feel the temperature of the room around him. He straightened with a realization. The temperature drops. The green-red mixed blood. The stranger in his apartment. The boy agreeing to being a king. The vivisection dissection scar “Go on and get the stuff Alfie, I’ll hang back,” Jason smiled.

Alfred seemed to think for a split second, then stood up with a grunt and nodded his head. “As you wish, Master Jason.” Alfred said, walking towards the medical room.

Jason turned towards the small boy next to him, gently pushing the boy back onto the floor, taking off his jacket and folding it, placing it behind the kid's head. “You're a meta, aren’t you kid,” Jason said with a smile. Danny immediately stiffened and looked at Jason, his eyes flashing into slits for a moment, lip curling to show off the boy's sharp fangs.

Jason smiled sadly and flipped his hands up, showing he had no weapon, “I don’t have anything against meta’s okay? My brother’s a meta himself, and I’ve been on some great teams with them. I promise you Alfie doesn’t care either, and it won’t make us treat you any differently. You need help, that’s the focus here.” the boy visibly relaxed, still tense but not as much. At that moment Alfred walked out and towards them again.

“Alright Master Danny, First I must clean the wound and around it so I may see what I am doing.” Alfred said, clearly saying what he is doing before doing it so Danny would be less freaked out. 

Above him, Jason grabbed Danny's hand, squeezing it lightly once. Danny squeezed back. 

Alfred crouched down again, taking a wet rag from the bowl of water previously in his hands. He wrung out the towel and looked at Danny’s eyes for confirmation before carefully wiping Danny's chest. Alfred and Jason’s anger grew with every injury hidden by the blood, though Alfred was better at hiding it. Whenever Alfred got especially close to the bleeding dripping skin flaps, Danny squeezed his eyes tight and gripped Jason’s hand tighter. Alfred had to change the water in the bowl a few times, a horrible brown from the mixing of the green and red covering Danny.

Eventually, it was time for the stitches, but before he could get to that, he needed to staple the wound shut.

“Young master Danny, You are a meta, yes?” Alfred asked in a soft voice. Danny nervously nodded his head ‘yes’. “Alright then. Some meta’s cant use anesthetics, are you one of them?” Danny nodded again, “So I’m afraid I’ll have to stitch you up as-is, though first I will have to staple the wound shut.” another (albeit shaky) nod.

Alfred stood and grabbed a weird white tool from the medical room. He sat down on his knees and pinched Danny's skin together, glancing at Danny, “This will hurt, but I will takeit out once I get to stitches.” Alfred lowered the machine and squeezed the handle, a medical staple sliding through Danny’s skin and pulling it closed. Danny whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut and gabbing Jason's hand tighter. Jason placed his free hand on Danny’s shoulder in a comforting motion. Alfred lifted the machine once more and placed it at another section of the large messy cut on Danny’s chest, squeezing again. And again. And again, going up and pulling the skin together. Finally, when he was finished, Salty tears had formed On Danny’s face, rolling down into little puddles on the floor of the Batcave. Alfred sighed and placed the machine on a tray he grabbed earlier from the medical room. Alfred lifted a small white package and ripped it open, pulling the sutures from the small bag. Alfred pulled open another package containing a needle and started to thread the needle then stopped when Danny tugged on Alfred's sleeve, gaining the man's attention.

“Yes, young master Danny?” Alfred asked, stalling in his movements.

Danny lifted his hand and pointed to the thread, signing ‘Won’t work’. Alfred looked at him questioningly, Danny slowly pulled his hand away from Jason and reached into the pocket too far down his leg, and pulled out a spool of… Fishing line. 

“Fishing line?” Jason asked, confused.

Danny flushed, his hand's stilling as he thought up an excuse ‘will work’ Danny gestured to the line and pushed it towards Alfred, who took it happily.

“Ah, I see. Well then, I’ll get started right away, please alert me if anything is wrong.” Alfred smiled and sat himself down more comfortably on the floor of the Batcave. He laced the thread through the needle and placed it above the cuts, starting at Danny’s left collarbone. He looked up at Danny and caught his eyes.

Jason seemed to catch on, and nudged Danny slightly with his hand, silently holding it palm-up, Danny quickly grabbed it and lightly squeezed. Jason squeezed back. Alfred placed another machine in Jason’s free hand. “Use this to remove the staples as I stitch Danny’s chest closed.” Jason gulped, nodding. Jason carefully removed the first staple and the boy on the ground squeezed Jason's hand again, whimpering once more. Jason's heart lurches and the grip on his hand tightened. Jason looked away from the boy's face again and saw the needle in Danny’s chest. Jason dropped the used staple onto a small metal platter and brought the machine back up to Danny's chest, preparing to take out the next staple. Danny squeezed Jason's hand tight again with every staple removed, and with every stitch added. Really tight. Fuck. Jason might need to wrap his hand. This kid is definitely a meta. Alfred got down to the intersection of the three large cuts, he glanced up at Danny to check if he was okay, and Alfred's heart squeezed at the sight. The boy had his eyes screwed tightly shut and tears leaking out of them, whimpering at the pain. Alfred had to go faster. He started stitching from the start of the cut at the bottom of Danny's sternum, barely above his belly button, Jason taking out staples as they went up. This part seemed to be especially sensitive, Danny squeezing Jason's hand a bit tighter, and Jason swears he can feel his bones grinding but he won’t say anything. No, he can’t, not when the kid needs someone to be strong.

Alfred gets back to the top and lets out a sigh, tying off the suture. “Young Danny, I need to move to your other side in order to finish your stitches. If I may, Master Hood?” Alfred asked, looking at Jason. Jason needed a moment to think, before he stumbled, standing up and walking to Danny's other side. Danny was still holding Jason's hand tightly, and only let go when Jason grabbed Danny’s free one. Jason and Alfred sat down once more. 

“Only one more set of stitches, okay kid?” Jason said in a soft voice, smiling down at the kid next to him. The kid nodded his head shakily. Alfred inserted the needle again and Danny let out a shaky breath, more salty glowing tears silently flowing down his face. The silence was thick as ever, only the occasional breath sucked in from Danny when the stitches hit an overly sensitive spot. Alfred finally finished, tying off the last of the stitches, when Jason got an idea.

“You said that everyone else was on patrol, right?” Jason asked, looking up towards Alfred again. 

“Yes, master Hood. Everyone else is gone at the moment. Why do you ask?” Alfred questioned.

“I have an idea. Tell Dam- uh, Robin I’ll pay him back. Hey kid, will you be okay with Alfie if I run upstairs for a minute and grab something?” Jason looked to the child.

Danny glanced at Alfred and nodded. Jason moved to get up but Danny tugged him back down gently.

“I’ll be back right away, Danny, okay?” Jason asked. Danny looked nervous. Jason squeezed Danny’s hand slightly. Danny squeezed back. Jason flashed Danny a small smile and stood again, walking towards the entrance to the mansion, glancing back at Danny every few seconds. 

“Well, master Danny, I have two more things to do to help speed up the healing process. I need to add a drain for the excess fluid your body produces and a vacuum pump to help your wound heal faster, the pump will also prevent you from picking at your wound.” Alfred smiled, “First, I will add the drain sponge,” Alfred spoke as he worked, clearly saying what he was doing as to not alarm the boy while Jason was gone. “Then, I will add surgical tape on top and connect the tube. This will run to a small vacuum to suction up any of the excess fluids your body doesn't need.”

Danny clutched tightly onto his pants, counting in his head, happy that Alfred was saying everything aloud. Danny could feel the devices being added to him as Alfred spoke, so Danny didn’t need to worry much. Alfred finished with that and sat back.

“Okay master Danny, one last thing, a drain. This will remove some blood and other fluids from the inside. All I need to do is make a small incision-” Alfred was cut off by Danny’s eyes snapping open, wide and glowing Lazarus green. Danny started to sit up in a panic, groaning at the pain but nonetheless pushing himself backward again. “Master Danny, it is nothing to worry about, I assure you everything will be okay-” Alfred was cut off once again, this time by the sound of something hitting the floor. Jason was standing there, small-sized clothes at his feet as he stared at the Lazarus green eyes of the kid in front of him. A small “fuck” Made it’s way out of Jason as he stood there. Danny saw the look at started scrambling to get further back, knocking over various tools and materials as he did so, nearing the edge. 

“Kid- Danny, hey, it’s okay. Everything going to be fine.” Jason soothed, crouching down.

The boy sat his weight on his elbows as he looked furiously between the two adults in front of him. He tried to speak but only a wheezed cough of air came out, making him curl in on himself. Jason thought for a moment, then had an idea. A stupid, idiotic, dumbassed Idea, but an idea nonetheless. Jason furrowed his eyebrows together and thought about Batman. About the joker. About the rogues. About his mother. About who hurt the boy. About who hurt Danny and left him to rot.  Jason’s eyes flashed a violent green while the boy was looking his way. Danny visibly relaxed at the sight of the familiar green.

“What’s got you so worked up, kid?” Jason asked with an eerie calm in his voice, the green fading slowly. Danny looked nervous, scared even, directing his attention back at Alfred.

“The young master panicked when I mentioned adding a drainage tube to his wound. Specifically the,” Alfred lowered his voice and faced Jason, “Specifically the cutting part of the insertion.”

Jason made an ‘o’ shape with his mouth and grabbed the clothes at his feet.

“Well, Danny, I’ll be right here with you while you get the tube. And, you’ll get to see the clothes I brought once we’re finished with the tube.” Jason sat down next to Alfred.

‘Hurt? Again?’ Danny signed with wide eyes

Jason let out a soft sigh, “Yeah, it's gonna hurt, but if we don’t do this you could get hurt more in the long term. I promise you, Danny, I’ll be here with you the entire time.” Jason smiled at the boy. 

Danny looked between Jason and Alfred for a moment before slowly nodding and starting to scoot closer to the two. Jason stands up and carefully picks up Danny, walking him back to Alfred. Alfred let out a small exasperated sigh and smiled at the small boy.

“This will be fast, master Danny, no need to worry. The incision is barely 5 mm wide, very small,” Alfred said with a smile. He grabbed an anti-septic wipe and started wiping down a small portion of Danny’s abdomen, as Danny lifted an open palm towards Jason again. Jason happily took Danny’s hand. 

Alfred placed a piece of the tube into Jason's free hand and picked up a scalpel and held it above Danny’s stomach, clanging up to see Danny staring hard at Jason, squeezing his hand tightly. Alfred placed his hand on Danny's stomach to prepare him and lowered the scalpel into Danny's skin. Danny let out a deep drawn-out wine from his core and clenched his eyes tightly, squeezing Jason's hand again. Alfred let out a sad sigh and dragged the scalpel, just barely, and then lifted it away from the small cut. He set the scalpel back down on the tray, grabbing the tubing from Jason’s hand. Alfred inserted the tubing and slid it through until it was at the right spot, then grabbed a new needle and added more of the fishing line to it. He sewed the tubing into Danny's skin and attached a small bulb-looking plastic piece to the end. He sighed and looked up toward Danny to find more glowing tears running down Danny’s face, his lip tainted with red, Danny must have bit his lip when Alfred was inserting the tube.

“That is all, master Danny. I just need to wrap your chest in gauze, and then you will be finished.” Alfred said with a small smile. Danny sharply nodded his head, eyes still screwed shut. Alfred sighed, turning to Jason, “Could you lift up master Danny while I wrap his chest? I don’t wish to strain him.” 

Jason nodded his head, scooting around behind Danny and placing his hands below Danny's back, slowly lifting him up and placing the young boy’s torso on his lap. Jason looked down at the small boy, really looking at him. Jason motioned for Alfred to hand him one of the cleansing wipes from the tray Alfred had brought out earlier. Alfred handed it to him, and Jason started wiping away the dirt and blood on Danny’s face. The boy beneath him visibly relaxed when he realized it was Jason who was wiping his face. Jason carefully wiped down Danny’s face, noticing when Danny had flinched and to be careful around the boy's eyes and mouth. It took Jason three wipes when he finally got Danny’s face fully cleaned off. Jason had stilled once he finished. The boy looked just like a younger version of himself. The boy had slightly sunken-in cheeks, cuts and scrapes all over his face, and that look of pure desperation that etched itself into Jason’s bones years ago. It was right then, no definitely not earlier when the boy searched Jason's soul with his eyes and deemed Jason safe Jason realized this boy couldn’t, wouldn’t, go back to where he was before.

“Master Jason,” Alfred gained Jason's attention and that's when Jason realized that Alfred had somehow finished the gauze wrap around Danny’s chest. Danny opened his eyes, showing Jason the icy blue Jason saw in his own eyes. Jason sucked in a breath and looked up at Alfred, “A word, if I may?” Jason looked down at Danny for approval, and then slowly stood up, making sure Danny was comfortable on the ground. Jason walked around the corner out of sight of Danny and looked at Alfred.

“What's up, Alfie?” Jason asked.

“I don’t know where you found the boy, master Jason, but he cannot go back.” Alfred said in a stern voice Jason only heard when one of the family came home with an especially bad wound. Jason was angered at that comment, though.

“I know that Alfred. Obviously, no matter where he came from he isn’t going back.” Jason said in a huff of anger. He ran his hand through his hair and looked to the floor, each of them standing there in silence, until Alfred brought forth an idea.

“Maybe, master Bruce can take care of master Danny until further notice?” Alfred asked. 

Jason's head snapped up, “Absolutely not,” Jason snapped, “I will be taking care of Danny.”

“Master Jason,” Alfred started

“No, Alfred. I found the boy, I brought him here,” Jason said quickly, Alfred stood there looking as if Jason had cut him off. He had. Yet Jason continued, “I’m the one that sat by him while you stitched him up, I’m the one that held his hand while he cried, and I will be the one to take care of him.” Jason finished.

Alfred waited for a moment while Jason calmed down, “I was hoping you would say that master Jason. I fully support this decision, as it seems he has decided to trust you and you have already formed an attachment to him.”

“Oh…” Jason stood there for a moment, face flushed red with embarrassment, “I’m sorry for snapping at you like that Alfie,”

“No need to apologize master Jason. Protecting yourself and your child is what makes a good parent.” Jason bluescreened at the word parent, “Now, master Jason, I suggest you get your son into his new clothes and get him home. Shall we?” Alfred smiled as he turned Jason around and pushed him back to where the child was.

Key word: was.

Alfred and Jason immediately rushed forward, frantically looking around for where to find the boy, where could he have gone in such a short amount of time? They both rushed around, desperately trying to find the boy that was in the middle of the floor just moments ago. They each took off in different directions, searching for him. Jason was the one to find him, though. He was sitting against the display case of Jason's former robin costume. Jason walked closer to get a better look and saw the boy was falling asleep, fading in and out of consciousness. Jason walked closer to the boy and sat down in front of Danny, and in front of his old Robin costume. Jason cleared his throat, and said the boy's name, waking Danny.

“Hey Danny, what are you doing here? At this case?” Jason asked, nervous.

Danny looked at Jason sleepily, and opened his mouth to speak, but croaked out empty words instead. He furrowed his brows and lifted up his hands to sign, ‘familiar’.

Jason chuckled, “Yeah, pretty familiar to me too.” Danny smiled “Do you mind if I pick you up and bring you back to where we were before? I have some clothes more your size,” Jason said, Danny sleepily nodded his head and held his arms out. Jason chuckled and kneeled down, picking up Danny beneath his knees and shoulders in a bridal carry. 

Jason make his way back to where they were, seeing Alfred on his way, blushing when Alfred smiled sweetly at him. He wasn’t a dad! He just found a kid in need, and is taking care of him! There's nothing else going on, the kid is just under Jason's supervision until Jason can find a better place for him! No adoption going on here, no sir.

“Hey Danny, I grabbed these, they’ll still be a bit big on you but they’ll be better than the clothes you're wearing right now,” Jason said, bending down to grab the clothes with one of his hands, walking towards the bathroom Bruce built in the Batcave for when he went on one of his ‘staying down in the cave for three days straight’ escapades. Jason walked in and closed the door behind them, placing Danny down on the clean floors. 

“Hey kid I'm gonna change your clothes real fast, okay?” Jason asked, the kid sleepily nodded at Jason, still seconds away from falling asleep. Jason huffed out a laugh and unfolded the clothes the grabbed from Damian's room, the smallest he could find. Jason quickly switched out Danny’s clothes, careful to not disturb the bandages and other tubes sticking out of Danny’s chest and stomach. Jason grabbed Danny's old bloody clothes and tossed them into the trash, walking out of the bathroom with Danny carefully placed on his hip. Alfred approached Jason and Danny.

“Ready to go so soon, master Jason?” Alfred said with a smile.

“Yeah, I think we are. By the way Alfred,” Jason stared at Alfred with an intense shine in his eye, “Not a word, of this to B.” 

Alfred chuckled, “Yes, of course, master Jason. Young master Danny is a secret safe with me. However, If master Bruce figures it out on his own, I will not lie to him.”

“I wouldn’t ask that of you Alfred,” Jason said with a smile, then he thought for a second, “Well I would, but I would never expect you to uphold it.”

Alfred chuckled, “Of course. And, remember to change master Danny’s bandages daily, clean the tubes for his drainers, and massage his legs about every hour or so to make sure he doesn't lose circulation. Master Danny should make a full recovery in about 8 weeks. I am positive you will be able to care for him in that time.” Alfred said with a smile.

Jason smiled back at Alfred, walking over to his motorcycle. He stepped over the back and sat Danny in front of him, tucked tightly into his chest as he started his bike. Jason turned around and smiled at Alfred once more, and started the slow, careful ride back to his apartment.

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

How we feelin my roaches? Sorry for the late chapter but i passed all my classes! also happy holidays, the next chapter might be delayed too cause my grandma died two hours ago, but know the next chapter is being written! Anyways I hope you all cried <3

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Ao3 link

Edit: there is a link to the next chapter at the top of this post so you can keep reading :)

[strangemaleswaps]

Strange Leather Bar Swap

Today's my 21st birthday and you know what that means! I'm finally able to take my first sip of alcohol…well legally anyway! But I didn't want to go to just any gay bar, I wanted to go to a leather bar in the city! I'm a leather fetishist for sure, even though I don't own any real gear. The only leather item I own is a jacket I got at a thrift shop awhile back. I want to buy better gear, but it's not the best idea since I'm still closeted to my judgmental family in the small town I live in. I do have a car and license though, so I'm happy to be able to escape all that when I need to.

I drove to the nearest city to find the leather bar, a super tall building that you could see from the distance. I've always wondered why it was so tall; it had to be at least 5 stories! If it's just a bar, it shouldn't have more than two floors though right? I was about to solve the mystery because, proudly wearing my leather jacket, I walked up to the bouncer at the door.

"Hey kid, can I see some ID please?" I was a little intimidated, but knowing that I am in fact old enough, I was reassured. I proudly presented the ID to the bouncer. He gave one long look at it, then beamed at me.

"Hey, happy birthday kid! Hope your first legal's good."

"Thanks!" He opened the door for me.

"Enjoy Swap Night too! It's really fun."

"Oh…yeah I will!" I had no idea what Swap Night was, but it must be some kind of event.

Walking in was amazing. Everywhere I looked, there were hot leather guys in all shapes and sizes, with the fresh scent of leather in the air. I felt a little awkward though. Not only am I the youngest one there, but lots of guys were wearing kinky fetish gear too. When it wasn't a BLUF type uniform, it was harnesses and jockstraps. I really wish I owned their gear!

Walking through the crowd of sweaty leather men, I arrived at the bar. I sat on the stool and the bartender came over.

"What'll it be kid?

"Hmm." I'm not really sure actually. Thankfully he seemed to have read my mind.

"I get you, it's your first time right? Simple margarita it is."

"Sure." As he poured, he made eye contact with me.

"So, you excited for Swap Night? Should be starting pretty soon."

"Er, what exactly is it anyway? I didn't know about this."

"It's a whole lotta fun. Everyone in the bar swaps bodies with a partner."

"Really? Body swapping? That's so cool! Do you get to choose who?"

"Unfortunately not, it's random. But you do get to choose who to fuck!"

"Wait you can fuck?"

"Yep! It's an amazing experience."

"That sounds so cool! How do I sign up?"

"Over there." He pointed at the nearby table that had a stack of papers on it, along with a box. "Just sign there and put it in the box."

"Alright!” I finished my margarita, paid, and quickly headed over to the table. I filled out my information, signed the paper, and placed it in the box. A few minutes later a really hot guy walked onto the stage and took a microphone. He was wearing a leather jacket over a harness, along with a pair of chaps over his leather briefs. I swear he looked directly at me. I really hope I'm able to swap with him - or at least someone as hot as him!

"Hey all you leather men! It's time for Swap Night!" The crowd cheered. "Now if you just walk through that door, you'll find a bulletin board with a room number listed next to your name. In these rooms, you'll find the body swapping helmets. Put 'em on, wait until everyone's ready, and boom! New body! Now if you wanna fuck, there are plenty of playrooms to have some fun in, as well. You'll be body swapped until midnight, so when the clock strikes twelve, you'll automatically be put back in your original bodies. Any questions?"

Nobody had questions so we headed over through the door. We all crowded around trying to look for our names and I found mine - Room 503. The map on the wall nearby indicated that 503 was on the 5th floor so I walked in the elevator, standing behind a few other guys. The smell of leather and sweat filled the air and I could feel myself getting hard.

I reached the floor, found my room, and walked in. It was about the size of a typical hotel room but without furniture. There was a large window in the back. Looking through, I could see a good portion of the city. I turned to my left and saw the helmet sitting on a small side table, so I grabbed it, pushed the only button on it, and placed it on my head. Nothing happened at first but after about a minute, it started lighting up, and making buzzing noises. A blinding flash of light hit me in the face and when I opened my eyes, I was in another room.

I looked down to see my new body, excited to be swapped with a hot guy, but was met with a surprise. I was wearing a leather shirt with light blue stripes down the side, but it was bulging out in a ball shape. The blue tie I was wearing highlighted the curve even more, by arching over a shiny black balloon. I have a fucking ball gut! I poked it with my newly gloved hands, to prove it was real and…it was real all right! I grabbed it with both hands and shook it up and down, feeling vibrations throughout my body.

I'm fat! I've never been fat before, not even a little bit! At least I'm wearing leather gear. I took one hand and put it up to my nose to smell the glove. It was fucking amazing…the leather scent made me go stiff immediately. I couldn’t even see my own dick past the gut, but I sure could feel it! As I held the glove closer, I noticed my face felt a little fuzzy. I brushed under my nose and felt some facial hair. Oh god, I have a mustache! I looked around to find a mirror and saw one on the wall.

I looked at my reflection and was shocked at the sight. I'm not only fat, I'm old! I inspected my face closely, touching the mustache that spread across my face in an arch shape. This is weird but incredible! I’ve never been able to grow more than peach fuzz before and now I have a whole damn mustache! I had wrinkles under my eyes, on my forehead, and under my chin…actually no. That's a double chin! Even though I was grossed out, I started playing with it, pinching both my chins and neck. It was surreal.

I can't believe out of all the hot leather men I saw, I had to end up in the body of some fat old guy! Is this really supposed to be random? I couldn't have had worse luck! I've always wanted to own new gear but not like this! I turned to the side, staring at my new belly and holding it, jiggling it slightly as I grimaced at how far it stuck out. The leather shirt hugged it tightly in a way that no matter how much I tried to suck it in, it was still obvious. I took a moment to check out my entire leathered up body. In the mirror I could finally see the leather pants and boots I was wearing, along with a muir cap on top of my head.

So is this what it feels like wearing full gear? It really hugs my body…though maybe that's because I'm so big. I started to feel stiff, but this time, I think I was turned on by my body instead of the leather. That's funny though. I'm usually into younger to mid age fit guys, not silver daddies and bears, even if they're in leather. There's no ignoring the horny urges, though. I may not be able to see my dick but I can feel it! Maybe the body swapping causes an increase in sex drive? Well, whatever it is, I can't wait to try out this senior bod on some other guy…

[buckychristwrites]

Could This Be | Chap. Four | j.t.

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x F!Reader

Summary: One minute, you're single and working for AFC Richmond as the team's medic. The next minute, you're in a fake relationship with the team's handsome striker who you know next to nothing about..

Word Count: 3.0k

Warnings: Discussions of Previous Emotional & Physical Domestic Violence. Cussing. Fake Dating

A/N: I hope you guys enjoy :)

“Hi babe!”

You looked up from your laptop to find Keeley walking towards you, coffee in one hand and a donut in the other. Her hair was in a high ponytail, and she sported a leather jacket over a white crop top and black pants. The heels she wore were loud against the cement flooring. Sliding the e-pen back into its slot in the computer, you smiled at her.

“I thought I’d find you out here,” She said as she sat down with a relieved sigh, taking a quick bite of her donut. “Went to your usual spot and it was empty.”

“Yeah, I have some charting to do and it was getting stuffy inside,” You explained. She looked over your shoulder in an effort to read your typing. If there was one person in the world who was intrigued by your job, it was always Keeley Jones.

“Anything good?” You shrugged. 

“Isaac twisted his knee pretty good during practice, he needed some ice and a pain killer. Pretty standard,” You told her, a smile sneaking on your face. “Not as good as Will bloodying his nose with a shoe yesterday.” She let out a loud laugh before immediately covering her mouth.

“You must have the most interesting job here,” She said, shaking her head as she took another sip of her coffee. “Just gettin’ to see the boys do the dumbest shit all day.” You hummed in response.

“It’s more fun when it's not a match,” You admitted to her. “When it’s a match, there’s more pressure to get them back up and on the field. Like that one against Man City when Jamie was hurt. And Ted was snapping at us to get him fixed so they didn’t have to sub him out. It’s just stressful sometimes.” She nodded in understanding, turning her head to watch as the players practised. 

“Speaking of Jamie,” She said innocently, and you could hear the smile in her voice even though neither of you were looking at each other. “Are you busy tonight?” You thought for a second, humming out loud as you did so. 

“I don’t think so,” You told her, although you began to regret your honesty. “Why?” She turned towards you again, the excitement filling her face.

“Jamie and you should join Roy and I for dinner tonight!” She exclaimed happily. “It’s been so long since I’ve gotten to go on a double date with you. Too long, really. Please say yes.” She put on her best pouty face, as if to say she already knew you wanted to say no. Which, as life would have it, you did, indeed want to say no. Anxiety rippled through you, but you knew that you couldn’t get out of it.

“Of course!” You told her, feigning enthusiasm as best as you could. “We’d love to! I’ll let Jamie know after practice, I’m sure he’ll be just as excited.”

“I can’t believe you agreed to that,” Jamie said exasperatedly when you told him in the boot room a few hours later. He was fresh out of the showers, in his normal clothing. His hair was still slightly damp. You crossed your arms over your chest with your own look of exasperation. 

“Have you fucking met Keeley? You know how impossible it is to say no to her,” You hissed. “Besides, if we said no today, she would’ve just kept asking until we agreed.” Jamie nodded, demeanour changing.

“I know, I know.” He began to pace around the room as you watched from your seat on the bench.

“We just have to get things in order before tonight,” You told him, putting your hands out with your palms down. “Get our story straight. They’re going to ask us a lot of questions, and we need to be ready with answers.” He paused, turning to face you with his finger pointed towards the ceiling.

“Roy is definitely onto us,” He told you, scratching the back of his head. 

“Roy would be onto us even if this wasn’t fake,” You said, shaking your head. In your mind, you were imagining sitting across from Roy, hand in hand with Jamie and trying to explain how all of this came to be. In this daydream, his face was the most annoyed you’ve ever seen it. It was definitely an amusing thought. “I’m not as concerned with him as I am about Keeley.” 

Van Damme, Dani and Richard peaked in through the window, looking between you and Jamie. You waved to them before shooing them away. They smiled like children who had just gotten caught sneaking candy before running off. 

“Alright, so how did we meet?” Jamie asked you, not having noticed the insolence of his teammates. The shock hit you immediately, your mouth falling open in frustration.

“Jamie, once again, we fucking work together. You met me here!” He groaned, covering his face with his hands.

“Fuck. Sorry.” You shook your head, incensed. 

“If you forget that we work together one more time, I’m punching you.” The look on your face was stern. Serious. “And I’ll make sure to make it as hard as I can.” Jamie stared at you, mouth agape and eyes scandalised.

“Oi! That’s not very nice!”

“It’s not very nice that you literally forget that we work together, is it?” 

He took a moment to consider this, before saying, “We just didn’t talk much before... “ He spun his finger in the air, drawing a circle. “All this. But you’ve always just been… around. I feel like I’ve always known ya.” You scratched your head furiously.

“And yet, I never forgot I worked with you.”

“Your job is all about takin’ care of us!” He exclaimed, the frustration in him growing as well. “Mine is to get the ball in the net. I come into your care once every few weeks, and that’s in a bad month. Cut me some slack, yeah?”

He had a point. More often, you were seeing Jamie in social settings than work settings. When you did see him for an injury, it was usually severe, and he was more focused on not thinking about the pain, or whatever the coaches were saying to him, than he was on who was giving him care. And he was right in the fact that your entire job, besides supplying and helping out the physiotherapists, was to care for the team. 

It also had to do with the fact that there was a certain period of time when you weren’t yourself when at work. A presence at the stadium forced you to keep your distance from the players. And even now, the ghost of them still haunts you.

“The slack I’m cutting you is that I’m not hitting you right now,” You told him, not wanting to admit that you saw his point. Not that you ever would hit him, but did he know that? No. And it was going to stay that way.

He opened his mouth to argue, but you waved your hands. “We’re getting off topic here. We need to focus.” His expression changed from argumentative to neutral. 

“Alright,” He agreed, taking a seat on the bench next to you. “So we met here. Then what?”

You brought your hand to your chin, tapping your index finger against your face as you thought through several scenarios.

“We can’t say it’s because you’ve been spending more time injured, because you haven’t,” You said, thinking out loud. “We also can’t say that someone set us up, because then Keeley would have an absolute fit.” It felt like it should’ve been easier to come up with a story than it was. While the wheels in your mind kept turning, Jamie’s did the same, but for completely different reasons.

“D’ya know why Keeley never tried to set us up?” You looked at him in time to see him gesturing between you and him. “Me and you?”

“Yes, I told her no footballers,” You said simply before looking away from him. This appeared to surprise him.

“Why not?”

“Jamie, please.” It was so hard to not get frustrated. Not only because he had the attention span of a 3 day old peanut butter sandwich, but also because he was venturing into territory that you really didn’t want to get into. “We only have an hour to get this sorted out.”

“I feel like hidin’ things from me will only make this harder,” He said. “What happened to our rule? Being honest with each other?”

“I’m not… not being honest with you, Jamie,” You said, defensively. “There’s just some things I don’t feel the need to explain to you. At least, not right at this moment.” He shook his head, looking down at the floor with his eyebrows high on his forehead.

“Keepin’ things from a friend,” He said, feigning disappointment. “How can I fake love ya if I know you’re hidin’ things from me?” A hint of a smile appeared on his cheeks. Shaking your head, you tried and failed to fight back your own.

Why are you smiling right now? You asked yourself. Why is this working?

“Fine,” You said, folding your hands in your lap. He looked up in surprise, turning his body so he could give you his full attention. It took you a second to mentally ready yourself to say what you were about to say. A sigh forced its way out of your chest. 

“A few years ago, I want to say around the time you went back to Man City, I started dating a… pretty famous footballer.” Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Jamie opening his mouth to speak. “No, I won’t tell you who it is.” Jamie closed his mouth once more. “He was incredible at first. Whole lot of compliments, gifts, extravagant dates, expensive trips. He tried to buy me a car, but I turned it down.” You shook your head. “I was living in a dream… until one day I seemed to just… wake up.” It wasn’t immediately obvious to you that you were smiling until it faded away. 

“I can’t say exactly why things changed, but by the time you returned to Richmond, everything for me was different. So different.” Just the memory of it was sending chills up your spine. “There was really no good time that didn’t leave me in complete fear of going home. If he won a game? I was worthless and he was king of the world. If he lost?” You trailed off, letting the words hang above your head for a moment, as the meaning sunk in for Jamie. “There came a point where I wasn’t allowed to talk to any of the players anymore. We had kept our relationship pretty much under wraps from the start, so I really couldn’t tell anyone anyway. Maybe he did that on purpose. But my friendships with most of the players dissolved. Roy ended up finding out because he caught me changing some wrappings on my arm. He told Keeley. They’re the only two who know. Besides you, now.” You zoned out for a second, suddenly feeling out of body, before snapping back and turning to Jamie. “Eventually, the opportunity arose for me to leave. So I did.” You nodded. “Then when Keeley started approaching the subject of dating again, I told her no footballers whatsoever.” 

Jamie said nothing, instead just staring at you for a long time. You stared at the floor, waiting for him to give any sort of response. This was the worst part of telling someone, the reaction. But why did his feel like it held so much weight?

“Thank you for tellin’ me,” He finally said. His gaze fell to the grey floor. “You deserve so much better than that.” 

“I like to think so,” You said quietly, trying to bring humour to the bleak conversation. He shifted so he was facing you.

“How did he know if you were talkin’ to the other players?” He asked, making you look up again. “Like, how was he able to keep an eye on that if he wasn’t here?”

You froze. The two of you stared at each other for a moment, before Jamie began again, “Unless-”

“Okay, we have to go,” You said, looking at your watch as you swiftly stood off the bench. He jumped at your sudden urgency, clearly wanting to slow you down, but you didn’t allow for it. “I have to get home and get ready. Meet you at the restaurant?” The whiplash seemed to confuse him, as he looked around before looking back at you.

“Uh… Actually, wouldn’t it make more sense if I picked ya up? And we arrived together?”

Fuck. He was just filled with good points today.

“I guess that makes sense,” You said, pulling anxiously on your sleeves, before grabbing for your phone. “Let me text you my address.” 

“Do you need my number for that?” He asked, unclear if he was joking or not, just as you sent the address to his phone. Rolling your eyes, you walked out of the room, deciding not to give him any further response. 

It wasn’t until you were pulling your vehicle out of the car park that you realised that you and Jamie still hadn’t decided on a proper cover story. You cursed the whole drive home.

Getting home and getting ready turned into being more of an event than you had wanted. What were you supposed to wear on a real double date with your fake boyfriend? Apparently, according to you, there was nothing in your closet that screamed Yes I Am Dating And In Love With This Man. In the end, you settled for a simple dress. It took you longer to do your makeup than you had planned, and when you looked at the time, you practically flew out the door. 

Greeting you was Jamie, in a simple white singlet with a tan blazer and black trousers. His hair was slicked back just perfectly. It was the first time, you realised, you had seen him all dressed up. Behind him was a fancy black car that you couldn’t afford to know the name of.

“Look at you! Dressed all smart,” You exclaimed, smiling at him as you walked down the path towards the road. It took you a moment too long to notice the bundle of roses he held in his hands. As you approached him, he held them out to you. “Y- Jamie, you didn’t-”

“Of course I had to,” He said, leaning in with a goofy smile. “It’s our first fake date, innit?” 

Your stomach did a somersault as you took them from him. Before you allowed yourself to overthink it, you kissed his cheek. 

“You look lovely, by the way,” He added, looking you up and down. Being under his gaze made the heat in your cheeks rise up, and you turned away before he had time to notice.

“I’m gonna put these inside in some water, and then we can go, okay?” 

It was until you got to the door that you noticed he was following you inside, like an excited little puppy, but you didn’t comment. As you wandered into the kitchen for a vase, he looked around the sitting room.

“Nice little place you got here,” Jamie called to you just as you pulled a simple, plain vase from the cupboard. 

“Oh, thank you!”

As you set the flowers in the water, you thought about how weird it was that of all people, Jamie Tartt was in your house, wandering around your sitting room. As you exited the kitchen, you found him admiring the photos framed on the mantle. You noticed as you set the roses on your coffee table that he was stuck staring at one picture. He turned to you, pointing at the frame.

“When was this from?”

Somehow, you already knew what picture he was referring to. When you approached, putting your hands on your hips as the both of you stared at the photo.

“That’s from the last Man City match,” You told him, glancing at him briefly before looking back at the photo. “It was in the papers, so I clipped it out.”

It was of you and him, Jamie laying in the grass with his legs spread out as you wrapped his injured foot. The both of you were laughing over something, either over something you had said to calm the mood or some self deprecating joke from him. If the photo had been cropped differently, one wouldn’t have even known that he was injured. It just would’ve been two friends, having a laugh. 

Jamie slowly reached up and grabbed the frame, bringing it down so he could look at it properly.

“I remember this,” He said quietly. “Coach Lasso had just walked off, after asking you to get me fixed up, and you looked at me and said,” He cleared his throat before continuing, “‘Does he think I’m the fuckin’ Fairy Godmother? Just wave me wand and you won't have a sprained foot?’”

You laughed, partly at how he tried to impersonate your voice with his thick accent, but also at the fact that now you did remember that moment. When you looked over at Jamie, you found he was already looking at you. 

“I remember how shit I felt over my dad, and being back at Man City, and you made me feel a lil better.” 

Whatever was bubbling in your belly was overwhelming you. You playfully bumped your hip against his.

“You finally remember working with me, yeah?”

He let out a loud laugh, which, in turn, made you laugh as well.

“Piss off,” He said, setting the photo carefully back onto the mantle. “Are you ready to go or are we just goin’ to stand here so you can bully me all night?” You scrunched up your face in thought. 

“Bullying you is quite fun…”

Shaking his head, he turned and went straight towards your front door. He threw it open before turning and facing you. 

“You comin’ or what?” 

You skipped after him, surprisingly excited now for the coming night.

“Coming!”

~

TAGS

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[crackshipparadise]

Until I Found You Chap. 8-Spirits and Nightmares

The next chapter is here! I’m excited because we get some lore, and…

Well, you just have to wait and see.

Thanks to @gigilefache for beta reading!

Enjoy!

It was early in the morning, hours before the facility opened for the day. The founders, Wiatt and Eric, were going through Cryptic books and websites to find any information about the Moonjumper. Sadly there wasn’t anything anywhere about Moonjumper, leaving everyone in a dead end and tired.

“Sara, we looked through all my books and most of the websites. There’s nothing about this Moonjumper anywhere.” Wiatt complained.

Sara closed one of the books she was reading and grabbed another book. “There’s gotta be something, maybe not the same creature, but if there’s a creature with similarities to Moonjumper it’s the best lead we got!” Sara explained.

Wiatt groaned, rolled his eyes, and kept on reading.

Sara groaned and found nothing of use in the other book she picked up, and went to check on Eric and Lewis who were using the computer.

“Eric, Lewis, any luck?” Sara asked.

The two shook their heads, “sorry darling. Nothing online says anything about the creature you saw.” Lewis replied.

Sara sighed and was about to ask Oliver, but saw he was asleep. She knew Oliver never liked waking up early and would fall asleep when he felt like it. However, this was important and she needed his help.

Gently, Sara shook her friend, “Oliver?” She whispered.

“Gah!” Oliver exclaimed, waking up. He looked around only to see it was Sara who woke him up. “Oh, hi Sara.”

“Sorry I woke you up, but I just wanted to know if you got anything?” She asked.

Oliver sighed, “well, I might’ve found something.” He said. 

Sara’s eyes widened hearing Oliver got a break in the case. The rest of the guys stopped and went over to Oliver. “What is it?” She asked.

“There was an old European legend over 300 years ago about this creature…” Oliver explained as he clicked on the page and Sara’s eyes widened.

The picture showed what appeared to be Moonjumper in the woods using his red strings to lead people to him.

“That’s him.” She whispered. “That’s him!”

“That’s Moonjumper?” Wiatt asked.

Sara nodded in reply.

“Darling, how did you find it?” Lewis asked.

“I looked up myths and legends around the world and decided to look outside of the US. Then I found it!” Oliver explained.

“Well, what does it say?” Eric asked.

“Apparently Moonjumper is an old legend. The story goes that he appears only to those who are lost and becomes friends with them before leading them to a world somewhere between ours and the spirit world.” Oliver read.

Sara kept looking at the photo and with what Oliver read. It made sense to why Moonjumper befriended her.

“So is he dangerous?” Wiatt asked. “Because if he is, that means Sara is dealing with something that could harm us again!”

“He’s not dangerous!” Sara yelled. “I mean he was nice and sweet to me, and didn't harm me at all.”

“Well…” Oliver spoke up. “In the old legends, there’s many stories about his puppet strings. Similar to Litho he can control his victims. Some sources say he uses them to lead his victims to the Horizon.”

Wiatt groaned, “Oh great! How many dangerous Puppeteers are you gonna deal with Sara!?” Wiatt yelled.

“Stop calling him dangerous!” Sara yelled back, shoving Wiatt.

Eric and Lewis got up and held Sara and Wiatt, respectively, back before the two got into a physical fight.

“Guys. Guys calm down!” Eric yelled, reassuring the two.

“Oh I’ll calm down when Sara fucking admits she’s putting all of us in danger again!” Wiatt yelled.

“How many times am I going to say it, he’s not dangerous!” Sara repeated, yelling.

“How do you know? You said the same thing about Litho and he almost destroyed the world!”

Sara growled and was ready to pounce on Wiatt, but Eric grabbed her before she could lay a finger on him.

Lewis pulled Wiatt back and tried to ease his boyfriend. “Darling, relax!” He yelled.

“Yeah, you two fighting is going to get us nowhere!” Eric agreed.

Wiatt and Sara growled at one another, causing Lewis and Eric to hold the two tighter. One loose grip and the two would beat each other up until they were bloody pulps.

A knock was suddenly heard and everyone turned toward the door. Eric loosened his grip on Sara, but she didn’t attack Wiatt, she just stared at the door. 

Another knock was heard. Wiatt released himself from Lewis and opened the door.

“What’s going on!” Artemis exclaimed, running in. To his surprise, he saw everyone relaxed. “I-I thought I heard yelling.”

“We were just talking, that's all.” Sara replied.

Artemis sighed. He then set his sights to the computer. “I see you guys got into the Moonjumper story.” He said.

Sara’s eyes widened. “Wait, you know about him?” She asked.

Artemis nodded, though Sara saw he was a bit uncomfortable. “Um, could I talk about it with you, alone?” He asked.

“Sure.” Sara replied as the two of them left.

Once they were gone, Wiatt was about to follow them, but was stopped by Lewis. “Darling, where are you going?” He asked.

“Don’t you wanna eavesdrop on the conversation?” Wiatt asked.

Lewis sighed, “Let’s leave them be for now.” He said.

Wiatt sighed, Sara was the one who brought Moonjumper up and her new friend knew about this creature too. He wanted to know more about this because to him, Sara was putting everyone in danger again.

Artemis took Sara outside the facility to a local park. With how early it was, there was no one in sight. The two sat on a hillside overlooking a small pond.

“So, tell me? How do you know about Moonjumper?” Sara asked.

Artemis sighed and had to think of his choice of words before answering. “Well, you might think of me as crazy after this, but my family is…cursed.” He explained.

Sara raised an eyebrow, “cursed?” She asked, giving a chuckle.

“Yeah. Um…my great, great, great, great grandfather on my dad’s side messed with the paranormal when he was young and my family ended up cursed.” Artemis explained.

“Well, that sounds great.” Sara said, sarcastically.

Artemis chuckled, “well it wasn’t. He befriended Moonjumper and the rest of the spirits, and ended up betraying him.”

“How?”

“Sara, this event happened so long ago, and unlike today no one was big on demons, ghosts, or the paranormal.”

Sara was hit with realization and realized what Artemis’s ancestor did. “Makes sense.”

“Yeah, Moonjumper was angry so a curse was planted on my family.” Artemis explained. He looked down and pulled his knees close to his chest,  “I could be living a normal life one second, and soon an unexplained scenario happens and it all goes crumbling down.”

Sara sighed, she realized she and Artemis were the same. Both had, or in Artemis’s case his own family member, messed with demons and had to pay the price.

She wasn’t even sure if she should tell Artemis her scenario with demons. At least no one died or almost died at the hands of it.

“Though, what got you interested in researching Moonjumper?” Artemis asked.

“O-Oh.” Sara replied. “Well, last night he appeared to me and took me home.”

Artemis’s eyes widened as he looked up at his friend. “D-Did he hurt you?”

“N-No! He didn’t!” Sara exclaimed. “He did…kiss me though.”

Artemis blushed, and hid his face and groaned. “I told you he ruins things for me!” He yelled, his muffled being covered.

“He didn’t hurt me like you said!” Sara reassured him.

“I know, it’s just I don’t want him in the way of my life!” Artemis exclaimed.

Sara froze. He and I are the same, She thought to herself. “S-Sorry. I didn’t know.”

Artemis sighed, lifted up his face and turned towards Sara. “It’s okay. I guess you think I’m crazy now.”

“Nah, I don’t think you're crazy.” Sara said. “I’ve seen it, and what you’ve told me. That isn’t crazy.”

Artemis chuckled and smiled. “I’m glad.” He said, putting his arm around Sara.

Sara slightly blushed and smiled. However, inside she knew she had to tell Artemis the truth about her past demons. Right now she nuzzled into the hug enjoying this tender moment together.

After sitting comfortably for a while, Artemis and Sara got up and started to walk back to Dreamworld. “So, is Moonjumper good or bad?” Sara asked.

Artemis thought for a second before giving his answer, “mischievous is how I put it. He doesn’t mean harm.” He explained.

Sara chuckled, “well that’s relief! Now I can reassure Wiatt that we’re not in danger!” She exclaimed.

Artemis laughed, “he’s that scared of spirits?” He asked.

“N-No he’s not. Just…a lot of us at Dreamworld are a bit uncomfortable with bad spirits.” Sara explained, not looking her friend in the eyes.

Artemis frowned, “you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” He said.

“No. I do want to tell you. Just-“ 

“It’s a lot to take in if you told me?” Artemis asked, cutting Sara off.

“Y-Yeah.” She replied with a nod.

“That’s fine. Just when you're ready to talk about it, I’m here to listen.” 

Sara gave a small smile, “thank you.”

Artemis smiled as the two made it back to Dreamworld Entertainment.

The rest of the day was uneventful, with it being a normal day of work and fun.

At night in her apartment, Sara was sleeping but she constantly shifted in her sleep, looking distressed.

Sara was alone walking through a destroyed Dreamworld Entertainment. She gulped as she walked further into the workplace she long since achieved.

“L-Lewis! Eric!” Sara called out.

No answer, just rubble falling off of what’s left of the facility.

“Wiatt! Oliver! Anyone!” Sara called out again.

She kept walking until the lights turned on, showing Artemis. Sara gave a smile seeing someone she trusted was there as she ran towards him.

“Why did you do it?” Artemis asked in a low growl.

Sara froze confused. “W-What?” She asked.

Artemis walked over, and Sara felt frightened seeing him glare at her. “Why did you kill innocent people?” He asked.

“I-I-“ Sara stuttered trying to find the words, but she couldn’t.

“I what?! Are you crazy?! Mad?! What kind of person are you!” Artemis yelled, taking a step towards her.

Sara felt tears in her eyes, as Artemis backed her into a corner. “I-I-I didn’t mean to! No one was supposed to get hurt! I regret it! I’m sorry!” She yelled.

“I’m sorry?” Artemis asked. “You think this whole thing deserves a “I’m sorry?”

Sara whimpered, as she sank down to the ground.

Artemis glared with a scoff, “your pathetic. A mistake. I should’ve let you DIE from those robbers!”

Each word made Sara’s heart break.

Each word, Sara let out a sob.

Blue puppet strings started to wrap around Sara’s arms and legs before slamming her to the ground. 

It felt painful, almost real.

She felt bloody hands on top of her, and she turned seeing it was the corpses of her friends dragging her away.

“I hope you enjoy Hell, Sara Covetman.” Artemis said, before turning away from her, and walking away.

“N-No! Artemis! You don’t understand! Come back! Let me explain!” Sara screamed, but the corpses of her friends kept dragging her away into the shadows. “L-Let go of me! I’m sorry!” Sara removed the corpses off of her, but the puppet strings held her back, choking her. 

“Artemis! Help me!” Sara yelled. Soon the corpses dragged her into the shadows as red eyes looked down at her.

“NO!” Sara screamed as she fell out of bed. She breathed heavily as she looked around seeing she was safe in her room, not at the facility, no dead friends, no…Litho.

Her heart pounded rapidly, almost like at any moment it would break through her chest. She breathed heavily as tears slowly appeared in her eyes. Quickie, she grabbed her phone and called Artemis.

“Pick up. Pick up.” Sara begged, as the tears started to fall from her eyes.

“S-Sara?” Artemis asked on the other line of the phone.

“A-Artemis.” Sara stuttered.

 “A-Are you ok?” He asked. “Y-You sound scared?”

Sara let out a cry, trying to speak to her friend over the phone. “I-I had a nightmare. I-I don’t want to be alone right now.”

Artemis’s eyes widened and on his end of the phone sounded like he opened the door ready to leave. “I-I’ll be right over!” He exclaimed before hanging up. 

Sara looked at her phone and breathed heavily. She waited as tears fell from her eyes. It scared her because that could happen once Artemis finds out about her past, and he’d leave her.

She thought once she ended her contract with Litho things would be better, her friends have forgiven her, heck people like Wiatt and Damien forgave her. However, she knew some people didn’t, and it scared her that her past will come back to light and she’d be seen as a monster.

A knock was heard and Sara quickly ran and opened the door, not bothering to look to see who it was. She stood frozen seeing Artemis. The latter looked horrified seeing Sara crying.

“A-Are you-“ Artemis was cut off as Sara tackled him into a hug. He fell to the ground as Sara sobbed into his chest.

“D-Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me.” Sara begged in between sobs.

Artemis glanced at Sara and hugged her tight. “I-I won’t.” He said. “I won’t.”

Sara cried, holding Artemis as tight as she could. “I-It was horrible, y-you,” she couldn’t explain the dream as the memories of it still played in her head.

Artemis shushed Sara and rubbed her back. “You don’t have to explain. I’m here now. I’m here.” He whispered.

[onlyjaeyun]

hiii zadie!!

(no need to answer my ask in public dw I know you’re gonna read it that’s enough, my dms are open if u ever need)

just wanted to congratulate u for your exams, hope you’ll get a lot of rest now that we’re at the end of the week pls take care of u during the weekend ♡

also looooved the chapter I didn’t give you feedback before bcs of all the ask that u have omg but i still wanted to tell you that it was truly a good chapter, loved the communication between those two!! I wonder if yn’s gonna admit to sunghoon how she felt after chap 9 tho?? bcs i know they talked it out about the time she cried but he sooooo need to realize how much he fucked up the first time, anyways so excited for the next chapter!!

lot of love ♡

my sweet love, youre so kind and understanding it honestly melts my heart :( thank you SO much baby!<3

to answer your question: she will actually bring it up during their verbal fight in their next fall out and basically throw it into his face. I will warn you guys here and say that she will be the reason behind their second fall out and why they actually stop talking for several weeks + hoon actually leaving his position as the hockey team's coach..OOOPPPSSIESSS <3 you didn't hear that from me!

thank you again baby, I love you so much <3

[analogwriting]

ouhhh i read chap 13 this morning i am SO EXCITED OMGOMG

I love the sibling relationship with kid aughhh i missed him too, maybe even more than killer himself loll (you just write the dynamic and his personality so well I love it)

FUCKING KESE. WHO DOES HMTHIS GUY THINK HE IS???? He wants us gone SO BAD. like ughh what is his problem 😒😒😒 im so glad kid knows we’re alive now tho :((

i cannot wait for the next chapters with everything in wano…i hope everything goes well for us…(or not, i love angst with my whole heart)

-anon who keeps sending long rants

kid has always screamed shithead little brother to me and I'm glad y'all loving the dynamic I have shoved him into lmao

kese is a fuckin' shithead like mind yo business bitch ✋✋

everything will ...go that's for sure lmfaooo

[sunmoonjune]

i always feel this tiny bout of frustration at a cliff hanger and lemme tell u— reading that last sentence of chap 11 literally made me audibly go “NO— WHAT- WHERE— FUCK” — in any case, this chap was so heart wrenching and i am so excited to see whats coming next !!!!

haha I am devouring your reactions to this chapter!! all the angst really got you guys xD that was exactly my plan I think ;))

I'm so happy you enjoyed the chapters lovely! even if it was mostly heart-wrenching haha :3

[faggyangel]

In the early hours of the morning, while the golden sun streams through their apartment window, Mickey stirs at a knock on the door. 

He shakes Ian, whose limbs are wrapped tight around him, his drool pooling on his chest. Ian grumbles something but doesn’t move. 

“Someone’s at the door, shithead, go get it,” Mickey shakes him again. 

Ian yawns and stretches his arms, laying flat on his back now, “Who the fuck is here this early?” Ian turns back to Mickey, smiling, “You know what day it is?” 

Mickey scrunches his eyebrows, trying to remember, “Uh, shit, a Tuesday?” He searches his brain for the date but he doesn’t get very far before Ian jumps on him, pressing kisses to his face. 

“It’s your birthday!” Ian says, far too loudly in Mickey’s opinion, in between kisses. 

Oh. 

Mickey knew Ian would want to celebrate. He’s been getting better at the whole self-love thing. Instead of sulking in their room, remembering all the times he was punished for his excitement until he figured out his existence isn’t something to celebrate, they would go out and get dinner and come home drunk on both alcohol and love. Though he can’t help but feel an ache in his chest for his forlorn upbringing. 

“Christ. I forgot,” Mickey places his hands on Ian’s hips, “I’m getting old.” 

Ian scoffs, “Don’t say that. You’re still in your twenties, doofus.” 

Mickey rolls his eyes and pushes Ian off his lap, “Go get the door.” 

Ian complies, leaving one last kiss on his cheek. 

He overhears a soft conversation, hushed and excited. 

He barely makes out what sounds like a woman’s voice paired with Ian’s. Mickey rubs his eyes, trying to rack his brain for any neighbor they might have pissed off last night who would come over to complain. He quickly throws on clothes and walks out to the living room to see Ian standing in the kitchen with Tami. 

She makes eye contact with him, “Fucking finally.” 

“What the hell do you mean ‘finally.’ It’s nine in the fucking morning.” 

“For normal people with healthy sleep schedules, it’s late,” she cocks her hips out, “Came to drop off your present, asshole, say thank you.” 

He punches her shoulder lightly, “Thanks, dick.” 

She holds out a small box, wrapped neatly in green wrapping paper. He haphazardly rips it off and opens it.  

There's an assortment of gifts. The first thing he pulls out is a Mickey Mouse plushie with a card taped to the front. The writing is messy, scribbled crayon, it reads: 

“hapy birth day, uncle mickey

freddie.” 

“Cool,” Mickey’s voice breaks, Tami and Ian snicker. 

“Lip helped pick out the toy,” Tami adds. 

“Fucker,” Mickey gently places the gift on the countertop. 

He goes back in and grabs a package wrapped in plastic. He realizes it’s soap and shampoo, a certain kind he told Tami he wanted a while ago, “How the fuck did you remember this?” 

Tami shrugs, “You’re my friend, stupid. There’s also a cookbook, Lip got that for both of you since Ian’s getting into growing his own food.”  

Mickey grabs the book that’s sitting on the bottom of the box, glancing at it before tossing it to Ian, “Thank you,” he nods and before he realizes it, she’s hugging him and pulling away. 

“Happy birthday, Mick. Love you guys,” Tami kisses Ian’s cheek, “I gotta go, see ya.” 

“Bye, Tami,” Ian waves, turning back to Mickey, who’s still standing, staring at the gifts that Tami dropped off. 

“Hey,” Ian says softly, rubbing his shoulders, “You good, baby?” 

Mickey nods, “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just-you know-” 

Ian does know. Not only because Mickey told him how weird it is, how uncomfortable he gets when people do things like this for him-nice things-but also because Ian experiences it himself. Maybe not to the same degree as Mickey, but he’s seen the way Ian malfunctions when one of his friends gets him something nice. He knows he has the same sort of wary confusion when they get to have good things. 

Mickey leans into Ian’s touch, “Wanna go back to sleep.” 

Ian rests his chin in the crook of Mickey’s neck, turning his face to plant a kiss on his cheek, “We can do that, baby.” 

They go back to sleep until one, Ian wakes him again gently, whispering in his ear that they have to get up because Kev and Vee need help in the Alibi. 

“It’s my fucking birthday, they should helping me!” Mickey yelped as Ian poked his side. 

“Come on. The minute they’re done, we’ll come back here and sleep to your heart's content.” 

“So forever?” Mickey asked from underneath a pillow. 

Ian made an alarmed sound from the back of his throat, Mickey threw a pillow at his head, “Not like that, asswipe. Just tired today.” 

Ian nods, sympathetic despite Mickey’s attack, “I know, honey. I promised them we would both go. So get your birthday ass up.” 

Mickey does in fact get his ass up. After thirty more minutes of complaining, they’re off to the Alibi. 

Ian pulls up to the bar and parks right in front of the doors. Mickey’s about to get out when Ian grabs his arm, “Okay, cards on the table, we planned a surprise party for you.” 

Mickey tilts in his head, perplexed by Ian’s definition of surprise, “I don’t think you know how surprises work, lover.” 

Ian picks at the skin of his lip, his eyes narrowed at the hollow of Mickey’s throat, “I just know you don’t like surprises.” 

Mickey sits back in his seat, watching as Ian nervously gnaws at his chapped lips. They’ve had this talk before, mainly about Mickey’s sleeping. Ian’s learned from experience after sleeping in the same bed with him for five plus years that no one should ever shake Mickey awake. Or yell to wake him up. Or sneak up on him. Mickey’s always been hyper aware of his surroundings, it was never something he concerned himself with, ignoring the panic that reached up his throat with surprises. Though recently, Ian told him he has symptoms of PTSD rather than just being cautious. 

“Alright,” Mickey nods, “How many people?” 

“Just my family. I called Mandy but-” 

“She’s working, I know.” 

“She said happy birthday. Kev and Vee obviously. Tami,” Ian squirms in his seat like he’s nervous. 

“Right, well, can’t sit out here forever.” 

The minute they step into the bar, everyone screams surprise. 

Ian was right, that wouldn’t have been good for anyone had Mickey not known. 

“Uncle Mickey!” Franny screams and hugs his legs, “I made you a card!” She presents a card covered in glitter, depicting two stick figures holding guns and bags of money. 

For the second time today, Mickey has to stop himself from crying. Bending down to hug her, he pats her hair and tells her he loves it. 

“Uncle Ian helped!” 

“Did he now?” Mickey raises an eyebrow at his husband, who nods proudly at his niece. 

“Happy birthday, Mick!” Tami calls out, rocking Freddie in her arms. 

Mickey nods and immediately gravitates to the bar, sitting down next to Lip, who’s playing with Freddie’s fingers. 

Kev sets down a beer, “On the house for family, dude.” 

Mickey takes it, trying not to show his unease, he grumbles, “Thanks,” before turning his attention to Ian who’s bending down and talking to Franny and Liam. 

“Hey, Mickey,” Lip greets, distracted. 

“Yo,” Mickey’s about ready to comfortably sit in silence, just enjoying watching on the outskirts as his in-laws mingle. 

“Ian tell you about the party?” Lip asks nonchalantly. 

“Uh, yeah. Right before.” 

“Knew he would. While we were fucking putting it together, he-” 

“Wait, hold on,” Mickey interrupted him, “You helped plan this shit?” 

Lip deadpans, “Uh, yeah. Well, obviously Ian said he wanted to do something for your birthday but I figured we should have it here, you know. With family.” 

Family. 

He remembers the kitchen conversation, it feels like it happened so long ago. The sinking feeling in his stomach when Lip told him he wasn’t family. To a degree, he understood what he meant, but he still felt the words hit his chest like a bullet. 

“Thought I wasn’t family,” Mickey teases, watching as the realization dawns on Lip, recognition enveloping his eyes. 

“Shit, Mickey, that wasn’t-” Mickey cuts him off by waving a hand. 

“It’s alright, shithead. Don’t give a shit,” Mickey lies, he does give shit, many in fact, but he doesn’t need Lip knowing that. 

“Sure, but you are family, you know that, right?” Lip doesn’t make eye contact with him, just continues playing with his son's fingers.  

Mickey sits on the bar stool, trying to cope with the knowledge that all of these people-these stupid fucking Gallaghers and Balls and Tamiettis-care about him enough to throw him a surprise birthday party. 

His fucking family. 

Ian apparently takes notice of his discomfort and walks over to him, Franny on his hip, “Hey, you good?” With the hand that isn’t holding up a six year-old, he rubs his back, eventually resting his palm on the nape of his neck. 

Mickey nods, “It’s just a lot, man.” 

Ian nods, “I know. Do you wanna go?” 

Mickey shakes his head, staring at the sleepy Franny who buries her head into Ian’s shoulder, her cheek squished on his collarbone. 

“Nah, I’m good,” Mickey says as Franny stretches out her arms, opening and closing her fists. 

“You wanna go with Uncle Mickey instead?” Ian asks her. 

When she nods, he kisses the top of her head and passes her to Mickey. Ian giggles as Mickey’s eyes go wide then soften, his shoulders relaxing as Franny peacefully transitions from one Uncle to the next, blissfully unaware of Mickey’s internal panic. 

“Happy birthday, Mickey,” Ian kisses his cheek and leans into his side, sliding an arm around his torso. 

“I think it might be.”

[dreams-of-yunho]

my aurora

idol! yunho x reader

rating: m

genre: fluffy and smutty

w.c.: 2k

warnings: unprotected sex!!!, oral (fem r)

summary: Interrupting your reading, Yunho proposes a game: Eat you out while you sing his group's new song, Aurora.

__________________________________________________________

The dim glow of your book light shone brightly against the pale moon’s gleam. Laying curled utop the fluffy mattress and pillows, the smell of fresh detergent and new book hung in the air. Yunho told you he would be late tonight, that they were finally going to finish recording, that you shouldn’t wait, but you weren’t still awake for him. These were the final hundred pages of the last book of an eight book series-- a lot of hours lead to this moment. It was bitter sweet, these last pages. You were speeding through them to finally finish the plot but, after this, it would be over. But you had to know how it would end.

From outside the bedroom, you could hear the opening and closing of the front door followed by heavy footsteps. “Baby,” a deep voice called.

“Yeah,” you half heartedly replied, still engrossed in your novel.

“What are you doing up?” he asked, coming through the bedroom door. “I could see your reading light; it’s almost 2.” You could see him in your peripheral vision: he stood tall, hands on his hips, loose clothing hanging off his build frame.

“I’m finishing this book,” you said, trying to remain focused on the words on the page.

He chuckled lightly, his voice a little raspy from the recording session he had just finished. “Aren’t you tired?” He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.

“No,” you replied.

“Hmm,” he hummed and you could hear him walk towards the closet, the dull sound of clothing falling to the floor behind him.

He emerged from the closet as you turned a page. “Hey,” he stood in front of you: shirtless and divine.

“What?” you rolled onto your back to read more comfortably.

“What do I have to do,” you felt the bed cave as he climbed on. “To get you to look away from that book?”

You didn’t respond as things in your story were finally coming together.

He sighed heavily against the skin of your lower leg.

“Yunho,” you giggled as he began to kiss up your legs. “I know you’re excited about the song, but I really want to finish this book first.”

“Come on,” he crawled up your body, leaving kisses on your collar bones as you held the book above his head. “It’ll be fun,” he said with a cloy tone.

“It’s always fun,” you said, rereading the same paragraph for the third time. “It’ll be fun in thirty minutes.”

“No,” he came face-to-face with you. “I mean fun fun. I have a game.”

Your eyes froze on the page behind him. Yunho was a fun loving guy both in and out of the bedroom. Sex with him was always carefree and full of love but-- a game? That was new.

“A game?” You asked, keeping your eyes on the page though not reading the words.

“I knew that would get you,” he breathed against your neck. “Yes, a game.”

“What kind of game?”

“Ahh,” he tapped a finger against your jaw. “You’ll have to put the book down to find out.”

Damn your curiosity; you dropped the book without even saving your page.

“Hey, sexy” he winked.

“Gross,” you pushed his face away. “Now tell me the game.”

“You’re gross,” he muttered but sat up next to you. “So, here's what I’m thinking: I'm going to eat you out while you sing a specific song. If you sing the whole song, I’ll make you come.”

Blood definitely rushed into your cheeks. He said it so nonchalantly, like he was ordering a coffee. And what was that if part?”

“If?” you asked. He had never held an orgasm from you. He was selfless during sex, always about pleasing you.

“If,” the syllable rolled off his lips. “You can’t finish the song, I won’t let you come.”

“What do you get out of this?” You asked, confused by his motives.

“Nothing but your taste and voice.” The look he gave you was almost sickeningly sweet.  And he always looked at you like this before he went down on you: such anticipation and excitement, like you were his favorite flavour of ice cream on a blistering summer day. “So… yes?” His eyes softened into his killer puppy dog beg. Oh, those eyes, you always wanted to kiss him when he looked at you with those eyes.

He leaned into you as he noticed your gaze on his lips.

“What song?” You whispered as the gap closed.

“Aurora,” he spoke against your lips.

“Hmm,” you hummed, having a feeling of foreboding from this song choice. He seemed too cocky as he smiled into the kiss. But this kiss was so intoxicating and the feeling of his hands on your hips so perfect. “Okay,” you broke away.

“Okay,” he said with immense satisfaction, trying to conceal the grin that tugged at the corners of his mouth.

His hands gripped your hips tighter as he pulled you down the bed, resting you now flat on your back. He sat on top of you, his weight pressing down on your thighs. Delicately, he placed his lips on yours as his hands hungrily groped at the skin beneath your sleep shirt. Warm hands tugged at the fabric and pulled it over your head. His wet tongue fell to the valley between your tits as his hands reached for the waistband of your shorts. With one sharp tug, your shorts and panties were on the floor.

As he came up from your breast to kiss you, you reached for the bulge in his pants but he quickly pulled away. “Uh uh uh,” he spoke disapprovingly. “That’s not part of the game.”

“Can we make it part of the game?” You tried to mimic Yunho’s puppy eyes.

“Nope,” he responded before you even finished your sentence. It never worked on him. “Start singing.”

You opened your mouth but your breath hitched as you saw Yunho lowering his face to your pussy. “I won’t do it if you don’t sing.” He looked up at you with a smirk.

“You go first.”

“Okay,” he chuckled and you could feel his breath against your clit making your walls clench. “Fine.”

His lips were warm but chapped. They moved gently as he kissed pepperd butterfly kisses on the lips of your pussy.

Shakily you took a deep breath and began to sing. You weren’t a particularly good singer but, Yuhno always loved to hear your pitchy voice-- especially if it was his group’s song you sang off key.

You were half way through the first verse when he added a finger, causing you to moan loudly.

“Keep going, baby, or you’ll have to start over,” he spoke against your clit, leaving you squirming from the vibration of his voice.

“I-i,” you struggled to remember the lyrics as pleasure muddled your thoughts. “I don’t remember where I was.”

“You’re going to have to start over then.”

You would have wriggled away from him if his forearm wasn’t pinning you to the mattress, his breath made you see stars.

His tongue swiped over your clit as you choked out the first lines again. His pace quickened with each line leaving you tongue tied. You barely made it to the chorus-- 나를 감싸줘 My Aurora, leaving your lips as nothing but a whisper.

“y/n,” he raised his chin and you watched with shaky eyes as he licked his lips. “I can’t hear your beautiful voice. Are you going to sing louder?”

You nodded your head eagerly, continuing where you had left off with the chorus.

A second finger entered you as you began the second verse, forming a knot in your stomach. The words couldn’t come to mind and the only thing that escaped your lips was a low, continuous moan that came from deep in your chest.

He removed his lips and raised his dark eyes to meet yours, dull nails lightly grazing the outside of your upper thigh. “Start over, baby,”

“Yunho,” you desperately ran your hands through your tangled hair, terribly frustrated by this little game. “I can’t think straight. I don’t even know the lyrics without your mouth-”

“앞에 펼쳐진,” he cut you off, dropping his head back down between your trembling legs.

The original confidence you had when he walked through that bedroom door and proposed this little game completely melted into the sheets you fisted in your now white hands. These first couple lines you could handle, they were Yunho’s lines-- he sang them all the time: in the shower, doing the dishes, folding laundry. And now, he sang them against your vagina. Yet, the lyrics melted your brain, you couldn’t even register the sound of your own voice. Though, you imagined you weren’t saying much of anything.

“Yunho,” you gripped his hair, pulling his head up. “Please, just fuck me. I can’t take this anymore. I’ll never remember all the lyrics and you’ll eat so much of me you’ll never want to eat me out again.”

“But, y/n,” he pouted. “I would never be sick of you.”

“Please,” you flashed the puppy dog eyes again and, this time, it worked.

“Okay, baby,” he said, climbing up your body.

As fluffy as ever, he smiled as he kissed you. “I love you, y/n,” he placed his forehead against yours.

“I love you too, silly boy,” you fiddled with the hair at the base of his neck. “Now, please fuck me so I can finish my book.”

He laughed, leaning back on his heels as he pulled down his pants.

He eased into you slowly, your walls already clenching from the extreme arousal. “I don’t think I’m going to last long,” he said with a moan. “You feel too good.”

“me neither,” you whined, not even able to relax enough for Yunho to bottom out. His dick throbbed too deliciously against your walls.

“I’m going to move,” his hips shuttered as his head fell to your chest.

“Please, move,” you moaned, now digging your nails into his neck.

His pace started out slow, a light gunt leaving his lips with each thrust. Your hands entangled in his hair, tugging lightly, desperate for his lips.

You pulled at his hair but his lips remained fixed on your collar bone. “Yunho,” you whined.

Lustfully, he licked up the side of your neck, his lips coming to rest on your jaw. His hips became erratic as he sucked on your jaw.

“Yunho,” you grabbed at his face. “Please kiss me.”

He mumbled something against your skin as a hand reached for your leg, pulling it up his back, shifting the angle of his thrusts.

“W-what,” you choked.

Tears began to well in the corners of your eyes, the pleasure almost unbearable. Your climax was fast approaching as the knot grew so tight, it could snap at any moment.

“Come,” he said, crashing his lips onto yours.

Your walls were painted white, his hips continuing to fuck the warm cum into you as he kissed you. Fluttering fingers met your clit and your orgasm tore through you like a lightning bolt, leaving your mouth hung in a silent screen. A shiver ran through your whole body when he pulled out.

Yunho dropped to his side, face still buried in your neck, hot breaths against your skin as he caught his breath. “Are your legs okay?” He rubbed your lower stomach lovingly.

“Mhm,” you hummed. “But,” you pulled your legs up, the pain making you wince. “Could you carry me to the bathroom, please?”

“Yeah, baby,” he shifted and stood, reaching his arms under your sore body and pulling you close to his chest. You could feel the cum leak out of you and down his forearm.

He helped you clean up and left you sitting on the bathroom counter to brush your teeth as he changed the sheets.

It was a warm night and Yunho slept shirtless and you could hear the echo of his heart beating like a drum against his ribs. “You’re not going to finish your book?” He asked, stroking your hair as your head laid on his chest.

“I can’t keep my eyes open.”

“Me neither,” he sighed.

As you drifted to sleep, the gentle sound of the fan and the soothing melody of Yunho’s voice cooled your body and stilled your mind.

[retrogalwrites]

Title: “Shigaraki and the perfect girl” / see on ao3

Pairing: Incel!Shigaraki x f!reader

Summary: Shigaraki has a crush on what seems to be the perfect girl who everyone loves, and becomes obsessed with the idea of corrupting her.

Warnings: attempted sexual assault, virginity fetishization, dub con, creepy behavior, stalking, manipulation and somnophilia with a twist

Contents: creampie, vaginal sex, breeding kink, scent kink (in a gross way), mating press, slight dumbification, corruption kink

Word: 4873

Shigaraki had been watching you from the very beginning, all through your high school years. It hadn't been much of his fault, he always told himself, when your existence alone did nothing but to stand out.

You had always been the center of attention, the most popular girl in the entire school, little Miss Perfect. With your good grades, unrivaled beauty, hordes of friends, admired by all students and professors alike. Being always so kind and innocent, with a friendly demeanor towards everyone, including an unwanted outcast like Shigaraki.

On his end, he had always been the creepy one, the strange one, the antisocial one that sneered at others and cursed them under his breath. Everyone avoided him like the plague, at least whenever they weren't too busy tormenting him, all too eager to remind him of how unwanted he was.

The complete opposite of you, Shigaraki was a social pariah.

On your third year, whenever other students would bully him publicly, give him looks and tell him how gross and disgusting he looked, you always had to come right to his rescue.

"Stop it, guys! That's no way to treat someone." You'd say softly, standing between him and his tormentors like some kind of protector. "Leave him alone, would you?"

And they couldn't say 'no' to you, no one could. Reluctantly they would give in to your heartfelt request and leave him be, those fools always dancing on the palm of your hand, but who could blame them? The hottest girl in class, lusted after by every boy in school, including Shigaraki himself, there was no way anyone could resist doing whatever you wanted them to. So pretty, so sweet, so perfect.

You had it all so easy, didn't you?

Shigaraki hated you for that, deeply and passionately loathed your very existence, a resentment that only grew stronger every time you would turn around, with that expression full of concern, to ask if he was okay.

Yes, he hated you for that. He also desired you for that, adored you in fact, wanted you as badly as any other buffoon in your class did. But not in the same way as them. No, when you looked at him with those sparkly eyes, pouting lips, leaning over his desk to give him an eyeful of your chest straining against the fabric of your school uniform, the feelings that stirred inside him were ugly and suffocating, something too depraved to be love.

When the other guys glared at him for having your attention even for a minute, it made his heart beat faster, it made his blood boil as his hands itched to grab you and destroy you, bend you over his desk and tainting every corner of your body right in front of them.

"You're lucky [name] takes pity on your sorry ass, Shigaraki." One of his bullies would scoff, once you were out of earshot.

"I didn't fucking ask her to. Maybe the bitch has crush on me, huh?" He'd spat back with vitriol, just to be met with a kick to the shin. As he hunched over in pain, he'd always hear those same words.

"Know your damn place, freak. A crush? Please, she's too perfect for you."

And they were right, so very right, but it only made Shigaraki want you more, more, more. His infatuation was warped with the thought of revenge, the desire of getting back at everyone by taking you away for himself, and to get back at you simply for daring to exist.

So Shigaraki would curse you in his mind, every single day, and then every night he'd spent it pleasuring himself to fantasies of you, sometimes holding the items he had stolen from you in the past (a gym shirt, your lip balm, the pencil you'd chew on during class). Creating scenarios where he'd get you alone to taint you, destroy you, turn you into dust and ashes with his own hands until he had dragged you down to his own level: a freak, a pariah, the lowest of the low.

If only he had the guts to do it, if only he could admit to himself that he wanted to do it at all, for real.

—————

After graduation, not seeing you for the following months pushed his mind deeper into that brewing obsession, drove him mad with it.

Shigaraki stalked your social media, watching his phone all day to make sure he didn't miss any of your publications and updates, downloading every selfie you uploaded to keep for himself and fap to later. His infatuation had been growing more and more out of control with each passing day, you invaded his thoughts every waking hour.

And yet Shigaraki told himself that it was really only a coincidence that he had ended up in the same college as you. Despite having read through a conversation on the comments from one of your posts on your Instagram a month or so before graduating, about your college prospects. Despite writing down those prospects to later tell his school advisor that he wanted to get into that same school. Despite having begged his father to send him there despite the inconvenient distance away from home in his daily commute, despite having chosen a major he didn't care about just to be in the same class as you.

His self-denial kept that obsession barely restrained, keeping it from pouring out into reality, and you also had to ruin that.

"Tomura!" You had approached him on the first day at campus, excitedly calling his name with such familiarity. The sound made his breath hitch and his cock twitch inside his pants, stomach fluttering.

"Oh, umm...hey." He chewed on his chapped lip, looking away as he lied through his teeth. "Didn't expect to see Miss Perfect here, of all people."

Despite of his dismissive tone being cold as ice, you kept smiling at him, only laughing as if he had been joking.

"It's so good to see a familiar face, you know? Come, sit next to me!!" You had grabbed his hand without a second thought, pulling him along with you into the classroom. People already whispering just from seeing you two walking together hand in hand: a breathtaking beauty like you and him, a disheveled mess, who had been wearing the same dirty hoodie for already a week.

Yet you didn't let go of his hand, even when he had already started to sweat and his palm got all clammy against yours, you didn't let go. The thought of rubbing off his filth onto your skin filled him with joy.

You really were a fucking idiot.

Holding hands with your stalker so casually, with the guy that wanted to ravish you in a dark corner, break you with his cock until you were screaming his name, and make you beg for your life like a pathetic bitch. Yes, that's what he wanted to do, more than anything in the world. He wanted to destroy you, to violate you, to break you, to make you his. Those weren't fantasies, it was reality.

Shigaraki used that same hand to jerk himself off that night in his dorm, imagining that it was you being forced to stroke his throbbing cock. He imagined that you would be so disgusted by his filthy self, your clear skin getting all of his dirt rubbed all over, fat tears streaming down your face as he forced you to open your mouth and take him in until you chocked on his cock.

Soon enough, he was thrusting into his fist, cumming all over himself until his cock softened, and his hands and abdomen were covered in his sticky semen.

What would you do if you found out that the guy you had been so kind to all these years wanted to hurt you so badly? Shigaraki imagined the despair on your face, and soon he was hard again.

—————

For most people, life after high school plays differently. Once you get to college, popularity contests become a thing of the past...but not for you, it seemed. During that first semester, Shigaraki had to watch how everyone around you was back to fawning all over you. Stumbling over themselves to ask you out to parties and dates (how many times did he overhear guys talking about what they wanted to with your tits and ass?), professors favoring you for your perfect grades, everyone adoring you as the perfect girl once again.

He was still an unwanted pariah, ignored by everyone, looked at with scorn by others.  Except whenever you gave him your attention, of course, only then did people want to get all buddy-buddy probably hoping to get to you with his help.

God. He fucking hated you. And he fucking wanted you.

One day, he finally snapped.

Shigaraki decided that he was going to have you before anyone else got the chance to put their hands on you, the perfect girl that everyone loved so much, would belong to the guy everyone hated.

He was going to tear you down once and for all, like you deserved, for living all these years with a silver spoon in your mouth having it all so damn easy. Wipe off that smile off your face, take it for himself, and make sure you were sullied, miserable, broken.

So, Shigaraki planned his next actions very carefully then. For a whole month, he tried to be more open towards you, more friendly, taking advantage of how kind you had always been towards him despite of the dismissive way he always had treated you with. Despite his awkwardness at it too, something that anyone else would've been turned off by already, but you took his attempts with endearment.

It pleased him, how you fell for it so easily, excited to see him reciprocate your attempts at friendship, the excitement on your face whenever you two were paired together for a project or study sessions.

You were so innocent, and so stupid. He truly loved you.

—————

Shigaraki couldn't believe his luck, the day after an assignment when he got you to come with him to his dorm to start working on how you were going to plan around the workload.

His dorm room was, admittedly, filthy. Unwashed clothes and trash scattered everywhere all over the floor, wraps of junk food and snacks hastily piled on an full trash bin in the corner. Anime figurines, video games, and posters decorated the shelves and the walls. The only spot that was kind of well kept was his gaming corner, with his pc and monitors all sparkly clean. He knew it was a shameful way to live, and he excitedly looked at your face hoping to see any semblance of disgust towards it. The lack of it, made Shigaraki frown.

"Err...sorry, I didn't know you were coming so I didn't clean up the place." He feigned concern, trying to edge a reaction out of you.

"That's ok, sorry for barging in." You gave an understanding smile.

Shigaraki's twisted resolve only became stronger. He was going to wipe that smile off your face, and that thought echoed in his mind on repeat for the following hour you two sat down to work.

Though, of course, his attention was not in the books in front if him. Shigaraki was too focused on the fact you were sitting on his bed, your bare things peaking underneath your skirt making direct contact with his dirty bedsheets.

Could you even begin to imagine that those bedsheets were stained with cum from his daily fapping? That he furiously had been jerking himself off to you for months in that same bed? His blood had begun to run towards his loins, and his cock was starting to strain against his jeans. Shigaraki had to cover himself with the textbook as to not to give himself away.

"Tomura, can we take a break? I'm getting tired." You yawned some time later, putting the book away and stretching your arms above your head. An action that gave Shigaraki a perfect view of your pretty curves, the way your tits heaved slightly as you pushed your chest forward, and a flash of midriff peaked from underneath your top.

"We still got a lot to do, dumbass." He curtly replied, pretending he wasn't leering.

You pouted, like a brat. He couldn't understand how you got such good grades when you could be this lazy sometimes. "Please, just fifteen minutes?"

He pretended to think about it, before shrugging at you begrudgingly. "Alright, just stop looking at me like that."

With a pleased, cheeky smile, you let your back fell on his mattress. Something that actually took him by surprise, Shigaraki watched in disbelief how you bounced on his bed, thighs and tits jiggling. You yawned again as you curled into a ball, he wondered if you even noticed how he ran his tongue over his dry lips. Were you really going to make it this easy for him? Were you that stupid?

"Wake me up in fifteen minutes." and you closed your eyes.

"Sure thing." He couldn't stop his lips from stretching into a huge, sinister smile.

—————

Shigaraki had never been a patient man, but he exercised all of the patience he had within him just to wait out the agonizingly slow seconds as you gradually fell asleep. He kept his eyes glued on your laying form through the first five minutes, casually but excitedly palming his erection through his jeans as he watched you fall asleep. He waited, and waited, silently observing your breathing until it fell into slow, regular rhythm. Soft snoring sounds purred from your throat, leaving your lips.

His cock was so fucking hard it hurt.

Hesitantly, Shigaraki called your name once in a hushed voice, then twice a little bit louder, and when he got no response from you, he knew that the time he had waited for all those years had finally come.

The time to break you.

The beating of his heart hammered loudly in his ears, as Shigaraki crawled over the bed towards you. His weight shifted the shape of the mattress, so he moved as slowly as his desperation allowed him to, as to not wake you up yet. Positioning himself above you, his legs straddled you underneath him as he unbuckled his pants and pulled out his throbbing erection, veiny shaft all with the head red and swollen, looking like he was about to burst. Then, supporting himself on his knees, he leaned back for a moment just to take in the wonderful sight you made.

Spread on his filthy bed, so comfortably on your back, breathing through lush parted lips. The girl chased after by everyone at school, they all would've killed to be in his place and to see you like this, to have you like this. Looking so small, so fragile, so defenseless, so fucking perfect.

Years of abstinence came down crashing all at once and Shigaraki's depravity took a hold of him completely, and it felt damn good.

His lips came down to cover yours with such pathetic urgency, Shigaraki crushed your soft body underneath his larger, even if skinny, frame. Dry and chapped lips devoured the softness of yours, and they tasted so sweet and creamy, exactly the same flavor of lip balm he had stolen from you back in high school. God, he could feel your heavy, round tits pressing against his chest, his erect cock rubbing needy against the snug gash of your clothed crotch, the engorged head poking at your entrance like he was in heat like a dog, shuddering violently at the stimulation. He moaned loudly against your mouth, forcing his tongue between your teeth and into your sweet mouth, as drool trailed down the corners of his mouth and smearing against your pristine skin. God, he forgot to brush his teeth after his morning coffee, his mouth was surely filthy...not like it even mattered to him anyway. Neither did it matter that he was going to wake you up like that, he indulged on tasting you completely. In fact, he anticipated to watch you wake up, and realize what a stupid bitch you had been.

Bringing his hands to your face, he forced your mouth to press harder against his as he kissed you so sloppily, his throbbing erection rutting against your core.

"(Name)...oh fuck, (Name)..." He whined against your lips. Just a virgin that he was, Shigaraki couldn't help that the mere stimulation of your clothed pussy-mound rubbing on his bare cock was really firing him up, pushing him so much that he was creaming his pants already. He shuddered, muscles tensing as the head of his cock spurted huge jets if his smelly, sticky cum all over the front of your skirt and your thighs.

He breathed heavily, looking at the mess he made.

Then he heard you call out to him, and the sound of your voice was anything but distressed, or even angry.

Instead, you sounded disappointed.

"Aww, you already came?" His eyes shot to your face. You were wide awake, face flushed as you stared at him through fluttering lashes and glossy eyes, the expression of someone who was throughly aroused. Shigaraki was the one struck by shock, and confusion.

"Tomura, I can't believe you are such a quick shot. I was looking forward to this, you know?" Your disappointment somehow puzzled him more than the sheer anger of being called out for his quick ejaculation, and that was impressive on itself. His expression made you giggle.

"What the fuck are you laughing for?!" He growled with bared teeth, his hands moving to your writs to restrain them above your head, crushing you with his body again. You whined, not in fear, but need.

He couldn't begin to understand what was happening. You weren't freaking out, you weren't crying, you weren't despairing.

"Do you understand what is happening here? I'm assaulting you, stupid bitch!" He lost his cool so quickly.

"Of course I know." Speaking in a whisper, your back arched, pressing yourself further against Shigaraki, raising your thighs to catch his cock between the soft flesh of your exposed, sticky thighs. He hissed through his teeth,  the touch easily making his cock spring back to life, harder than before.

"Tomura, you've always been a creep." For the first time, your voice sounded harsh, condescending.

And disgusted.

Finally, that disgusted look. Shigaraki stared at you with a burning gaze through red eyes, mouth agape at the sound of those words being uttered by you, that look on your face that he had wanted to see for the longest time. His cock twitched, a spurt of cum drooling down the tip and getting on your exposed panties. The feeling made you shudder, your things squeezing his cock between them again. His back arched, hands restraining you gripped your wrists tighter, he cursed at how fucking good it felt.

"But I always liked that about you, honestly! How gross you are, how dirty and smelly you are, you are always so mean to me too! I wanted you to take me like this by force one day."

"You...wanted this to happen?" Shigaraki was starting to understand, though none of it made sense. You snorted, giving him a suddenly smug grin that made his blood boil.

"I always hoped it would." A candid confession, your own breathing had become erratic, the euphoria of pouring out your deepest secrets. "It always made me feel so hot to imagine that you fucked me and made me all dirty and disgusting, that you turned me into a freak like you."

It sounded like pure bullshit, and yet the genuine honesty in your voice left no room to question it. The reality you presented him with had shattered his own. And it made him so damn angry and so fucking turned on. He felt all light-headed suddenly, like he was in a dream.

"So you've been fucking with me all this time?! Is that it, you damn bitch?!"

One of his hands roughly grabbed your throat, fingers circling the frail column of bone and squeezing hard, you gasped at the sudden pressure keeping you from breathing. You stared up at him. His gaze bore into yours, face inching closer to snarl with pure, scorching fury.

And yet you still looked so ecstatic, a lewd expression that couldn't be further from that angelic, innocent look everyone always said made you so perfect. You looked absolutely wicked in that moment.

"Yes...I have." You spoke through labored breaths, clawing and the hand around your throat. "You fucking...disgusting...creep."

Shigaraki realized then, that you hadn't ever been perfect, in fact, you had been the same as him from the beginning. A depraved fucking mess.

And he hated you for that, loved you for that.

Shigaraki then let go of both your wrist and neck, slipping his leaking cock away from your thighs as he leaned back on his knees. Gasping for oxygen, your head already felt light by the time you felt your clothes being violently ripped off from your body, blouse and skirt tearing away and being thrown behind Shigaraki's towering frame, leaving you in only your underwear.

The frilly, see-through thing that looked more like lingerie. God, you really were such a fucking freak, weren't you?

Shigaraki's hands went to unclip your bra that so luckily opened at the front. Throwing the item with the thorn pile of your other clothes. The sight of your bare tits bouncing in front if him was like out of his deepest fantasies, and Shigaraki didn't wait a second longer to roughly squeeze your breasts in his calloused hands, taking handfuls of the supple mounds of flesh he had always dreamed to grope. They felt full and heavy in his palms, fingers sinking into their softness, and seeing the way you mewled when his thumbs teased the hardening nubs of your nipples, making you softly moan his name, Shigaraki lost it.

His mouth attacked one of your nipples, mouth latching to the puffy areolae and teeth sinking into the flesh as he sucked hard and desperate. Your reaction was immediate, hands tangling into his messy white hair and fingers pulling at his scalp, mouth parted to mewl his name in pain and delight. He kept suckling at your breasts, hungry and rough like he was hoping to suck milk out of them, the other hand already playing with the other breast, mercilessly pulling and twisting your hard nipple, bruising the tender skin.

"Tomura wait — ooh!!" Your body trembled as you whined out his name, another wave of pleasurable pain hitting you when Shigaraki squeezed your breasts together and brought both nipples into his greedy mouth. Sucking at them and lapping at the pebbled skin with his tongue, until your were squirming underneath him like a needy little whore.

One of his hands delved down to your panties, the thin string that held them up all to easy to break with one powerful tug. You gasped, a sound that turned into a loud scream when you felt his fingers teasing the hot wetness of your pussy lips, before he buried one digit into your core, testing your insides.

"Oh fuck..." You breathed, biting your lip, feeling him experimentally finger your inner walls. Shigaraki was fascinated at how hot and slick you felt inside, your fleshy walls sucking around his fingers so tightly that he wanted to stuff his cock inside that hole now, now, now.

He let go of your nipples with a lewd pop, spit dribbling down the abused skin. "Who would've thought...that you had such a filthy mouth." He snickered. "You are so fucking wet already, you goddamn degenerate, you want my cock so bad, huh? I'll let you know I haven't showered in a few days." It was like he was testing you by basking in his own disgusting habits.

"Y-Yes, I do, I want your filthy cock!!" Another loud moan, uncaring that other people in the dorm were going to hear. "Please, Tomura, make me filthy!!" The expression on your face, mouth agape with your little tongue out so unabashedly desperate for someone like him made his heart flutter.

Shigaraki would've wanted to keep you begging for so much longer, but in reality, his own desperation had him pulling back his hand from your pussy, leaving you empty and sighing disappointed for a moment, but not for long. Firmly anchoring himself down with his knees on the mattress, he raised your hips with a bruising touch and with the clumsiness of an inexperienced man, plunged his cock into your pussy in one punishingly rough thrust. The sudden feeling of being full had you arching your back and curling your toes, nails clawing at his forearms as you writhed in pain from the sudden intrusion. Shigaraki buried his cock into you until his pubes brushed your outer lips, and he was balls depp inside.

"Fuck, fuck, ooh...holy shit you...are fucking tight." Tomura groaned with his mouth agape, eyes rolling to the back of his head. His breath hot against your skin as he leaned over for a moment, taking in the unbelievably hot sensation of you squeezing around him. "This fucking greedy pussy, hngg..." Your insides felt so good, better than he ever imagined, you were so tight sucking him in like you were trying to rip off his cock. Was this what pussy felt like, or was this just you? Seeing what a slut you were, he didn't think you were even a virgin. And yet your velvety walls wrapped around his shaft in a snug fit inside that scorching, pulsating heat, Shigaraki couldn't imagine anything else comparing to it.

He couldn't stop himself as he began thrusting his cock into your hole, pulling only slightly before sinking back, selfishly unwilling to let go of that delirious sensation around his length. The harder he snapped his hips, the better it felt, his balls throbbed as they slapped against your plump ass.

"Tomura, i-it hurts....mmm, oh!" Tears swelled in your eyes, and yet your hips were needly sinking on his cock like there was anything else of him to take. What a glutton for punishment you were, but soon that burning pain became something just as good, even better actually, delicious pain, and your were soon arching your back and bouncing on his cock with all your might.

"Guess neither of us are virgins anymore, huh?" You panted with a laugh. Shigaraki froze then for a second, his eyes stared at your face contorted by pain and pleasure with wide eyes, enraptured and burning with something a little hotter than desire. A virgin, so even after the truth of your character, you really were as untainted as he thought.

Shigaraki was scrapping your virgin insides with his cock, truly making you filthy in the most pure sense of the word. He was tainting you, breaking you, the perfect girl everyone adored.

That was it, Shigaraki cursed under his breath as he pulled out, earning a confused and disappointed sound of from your lips, that then became a little help when he grabbed the back of your legs and pushed them up, bending them against your chest. He positioned himself over you and stuffed his cock back inside, thrusting into you as hard as he could, taking up a new merciless pace. In that new position, both of you could feel him reaching even deeper inside you, the engorged head on his cock hitting the entrance of your cervix, that little orifice sucking at his tip like it was begging for his filthy, fertile seed. The thought made him fuck you even harder, the image of him pouring his cum inside you and impregnating your insides.

"Tomura, Tomura, Tomura!!"

His name was a chant on your lips, arms thrown around his shoulders to pull him closer. You could smell the sweat and grime on his hair, and the thought someone so gross like him was taking you made your insides flutter and twist with the build up of an orgasm. "Tomura, don't stop, fuck...don't stop!!"

He didn't and soon you were clamping on his cock, your orgasm making you so tight that Shigaraki was shooting his load too reaching an abrupt climax, pleasure hitting him as his cum flooded your insides with its warmth, painting your walls white and filling up your womb until it was overflowing out of you, steaming down your thighs and ass onto his bedsheets.

It was like a dream, the best dream he had ever had. And he would've thought that it was nothing but a dream, too. If not for the arms that were still clinging to him and refusing to let go, the pretty mouth breathing against his ear.

"Tomura, you...really are disgusting." A satisfied voice filled with disgust, and affection. His cock began hardening inside you and you barked a laugh.

He hated you for that, and he loved you for that. The perfect girl everyone wanted, that was just so perfect for him too.

[saintobio]

It's 7 am here and I'm already in pain. Thankful it's the weekend so I can roll over and cry but re-read the whole chap again (multiple times) before the next update.

HOEJO AND SERA... I have no words. Ai, you're creating monsters and demons, we'll kill both of them on behalf of Y/N. On one hand I love how she is voicing out her pain and sufferings, yet on the other, I just wish she stops giving two fucks about Heojo and her marriage. I know that will start happening from chap 9 and honestly, I am too excited for it. I was dreading the end of this chap cause I know I will have to wait for a week before I find any kind of relief from all this anger. I don't even care about Y/NxToji anymore, that's like the last thing in my mind. All the asks over the week has given me insights to Y/N and gojou's perspective so MAYBE I can stomach a happy ending for them, but not until Gojou cries 10x more than Y/N.

Also, Toji even in indirect mention had be giggling, with the thought of torturing Gojou. I maybe a masochist for enduring such hurt/pain via reading S,N but definitely a sadist when it comes to tit-for-tat. So, yeah, I hope you have something stored like that for us in the future chaps. Even if it isn't, the redemption arc will make me bonkers (I sorta have a feeling you'll outdo yourself again)

In conclusion, I am a huge fan of your writings (Oh I just read Iwaizumi's streetfighter au, HOW DO YOU MANAGE ALL THIS ALONGSIDE A JOB?) I am glad you've manage to find a pace, the whole update on Friday thing, and I hope it helps you in maintaining your health as well as your social life. Sorry for the really long ask. Take care and love you loads. ❤️❤️

“I hope you have something stored like that for us in the future chaps.” — i don’t wanna spoil but you guys will actually see toji, yn, gojo, and sera all together in one of the future chapters 💀 and omg u read my ufc series thanks sm <3 i honestly dk how i managed but all i’ve been doing since the pandemic was to write :’) glad to have u reading my works tho !!

[1ddiscourseoftheday]

Fri 4 June ‘21

“Look out my window and Louis Tomlinson outside”, said the (second) luckiest man in London (first is Harry ofc), and posted a pic of himself with Louis, who is looking cute in a jersey and cap over that long long hair (looks like the guy took a couple blurry pictures out his window then ran out to accost Louis, lol.) He said, “pleasure to meet you on my road this evening” and that Louis was “a real gentleman” (and also a “gemtleman” SO TRUE whether he typed it that way on purpose or not) and “a proper amazing chap.” Also on this guy’s road? A recording studio, specifically the one Louis was pictured working at last week. Looks like Louis was with Charlie Lightening (and at least one other person, unidentifiable). Grown ass men recognizing Louis and running outside to talk to him?? This is the future louies want!

Liam woke up early and hopped straight on his discord to respond to some very sweet messages-- I hope he’s getting some enjoyment out of reading them all. I think a lot about his sister saying that he always read all the stuff fans are saying and is really affected by it and so it always makes me happy when people flood him with positive stuff. He also polled people about NFTs (yes, no, idk what that is) and said he’s going to be in Brazil at the end of the year. OoOh? Then he posted a video telling us about what he dreamed-- “now without sounding like a complete fanboy I had the weirdest One Direction related dream,” he said and that he dreamed he was arguing with Zayn over ownership of a leather jacket, and that he had a boxing match “with Tommo” and “I couldn’t hit him.” “Well at least you know I’m thinking about you, boys!” he concludes.

And, yes, the big drama and discourse of the day (™)... Zayn and Gigi had a full day of getting papped yesterday, with her- according to paps- at a vaccine shot appointment and he showing off his very stylish white tracksuit and yellow hat; and, unfortunately, ending up showing a less press-ready side as well. A short video shows Zayn shirtless and yelling at some guy who is yelling at him and pushing into his space and getting in his face (mostly a lot of “who the fuck are you” from Zayn) while PA Taryn tries to hold onto Zayn and keep them apart. The guy calls Z a f***** and Zayn repeats “I’m a f*****?!”, laughing incredulously, and now half of twitter is canceling him for using slurs, so that’s a fun day for everyone. Then ZaynWeLove you trended worldwide as fans worked to bury the video, but tabloids got wind of it anyway so that was that. According to TMZ “Zayn was smoking a cig outside Amsterdam Billiards Club in the East Village after 2 AM when a group of guys came out of Little Sister Lounge next door and an altercation ensued.” Also “sources say he was wearing [a shirt] at the billiards joint, but it's unclear exactly when or why he took it off”, haha- the attempts from everyone at a definitive shirt removal timeline are for sure the only fun part of this. ANNNNYWAY, how about that Look, he looks like a cyber cow, love that, and also: before all this, Zayn got papped, which generally means Zayn is about to release something or other, so that’s exciting.

More Holivia pics from the pub they were at last night were posted-- in these pics you can see that in fact Harry is wearing a DIFFERENT pair of stripey blue and pink shorts with the cutest cardigan with colored cuffs, also pink and blue, aww. Our lil walking trans flag/ Fine Line cover! We’re told he drank tequila and was (of course) very nice to fans and that PA Luis was sat between him and Olivia (lol). A crowd gathered outside the busy pub trying to get in to Harry, and photographed his and Olivia’s departure; they are shown cuddling a bit on the street, with Luis suddenly nowhere in sight. Very private moments not meant to be captured for the public eye, I’m sure, despite the many fans right there.

The person responsible for Other People Fund, an organization that helps people pay for therapy, told us about Harry Lambert getting some of her merch (shirts and tote bags that say ‘I think we should see other people and by other people I mean therapists”) for Harry Styles! Harry carried the tote for his walks in the park with Olivia last month, HAAAAA AMAZING. I wonder if he was sad no one managed to read the message then? The story is that the girl who makes them had made a post offering to provide Harry with a shirt after his (shirtless) grammys appearance and ended up sending it to Harry L who was like YES WE MUST HAVE THIS and bought two shirts and the tote. Maybe she should make a post for Zayn too, how appropos her messaging would be for this shirtless media moment huh? Anne Marie said the Our Song MV bts won’t be long now and “are you ready???” “No I’m not!” said Niall. A Luca Shreiner Our Song remix is out. Showtime added Louis to their pride month queer playlist and Jason Sudeikis’ show Ted Lasso wrapped its London filming- will this also mean HoliviaUK is a wrap? We can only hope.

[hoe-doroki]

can’t find my breath

minors do not interact

warnings: 18+, consensual drunk sex, one night stand (kinda), edging

pairing: Bakugou x fem!reader

genre: smut

word count: 4.2k

summary: At the beginning of the day, Ground Zero was just another hero you wrote articles about. You had met before, but neither of you could claim to know each other. Now it was nighttime and you'd just left a bar together. You gave the cabbie your address before Katsuki could say otherwise. Now, in your apartment with Ground Zero gone and Katsuki in his place, what would come next?

a/n: This is a companion piece to The Rest with No Sound. That story is the plot, this one’s the pwp.

edit: I no longer write x reader but here’s my old masterlist - mobile | desktop

The jaunt from the cab to your apartment was a blur—and not because of the alcohol. You were swift with lusty haste, so the familiar path through your building faded into the background as you hurried up to your room. But you still had the wherewithal to remember that Bakugou—Katsuki—didn’t know it. “This way,” you said as you grabbed his hand as you rounded one of the unnecessary twists in the building and then decided not to let go.

“Okay,” Katsuki said, sounding glib, almost disinterested.

After spending the whole day with him, though, you knew better. There was no way his hand would still be in yours if following you, being with you, wasn’t exactly what he wanted to do in this moment.

Unlocking your door was a series of jerky motions, from searching your bag for your keys—should have done it in the cab, but your brain was a little too tipsy and way too aroused for sensible foresight—to yanking open your front door, ripping your camera strap off your neck, and sliding it on your coffee table. Sober, you might not treat your camera that recklessly. But, also, you weren’t wasted. You were just gone enough to tighten your grip on Katsuki’s hand and pull him to your bedroom without pretense.

As soon as you made it to your bedroom, Katsuki dropped his hero gear on the ground and looked at you, full eye contact for the first time since the bar. His skin was flushed, and you weren’t sure if it was from the alcohol or if there was something more. He hadn’t said all that much in the cab, but the tension had been palpable with your hand on his thigh, all corners of your left side touching as you scooted to the middle seat for proximity. Now, all the armor of Ground Zero was left on your floor, and you were left with nothing more and nothing less than Katsuki.

It surprised you a bit that he wasn’t the one making a move. The Katsuki you’d seen all day had been a man of quick decisions, confident and strong. But now, he seemed to be waiting for you.

You wouldn’t make him wait long.

You went to him, pulling him in and finally letting your lips crash together in a kiss. A great tension in you released while a new, even more exciting one started to knot in the space between your bodies. He met you eagerly, both your mouths tasting of the vodka you’d gone drink for drink on. His hand pressed on the small of your back, pulling you the rest of the way to him, making you smile against his lips.

This hadn’t been your plan at the start of the day. You hadn’t been following Katsuki for any reason other than that of a possible interview, a humble interest. You weren’t sure when the sexual tension had planted in your belly—or his.

Maybe it had been around the time you’d first touched his arm—or maybe that was just when you’d let your caution drown in your vodka tonic. You were a journalist, he was a pro hero—both of you wore caution as a tight lifejacket every day for your jobs. It felt good to take a reckless needle to it and pop.

You let yourself run your hands up his thick arms again and gave them a squeeze. It was so much better now that you didn’t have to be shy. Instead of settling for half a hold around his bicep, you could clutch and grip. Feel as much of him as you wanted.

A gasp pushed past your lips when Katsuki took hold of your shoulders and pressed you into the wall. Seemed he’d had enough of you taking the lead. Your game was over.

About time.

His callused hands slid under the shirt you’d been wearing all afternoon, past the dried sweat from when you’d run through the city together, from when your knees had slotted together at the bar. It was a commanding touch. Katsuki wasn’t precious as he squeezed your sides. His fingertips dug into your skin, as though he too wanted to hold you as closely as possible. Feel not only your skin, but your muscle and sinew. Everything. He dragged your shirt over your head and then he pushed you chest to chest. You felt his firm pecs against you.

“Mm,” you hummed.

“Something you like?”

The alcohol had sent Katsuki’s voice low with rasp, breathy and more intimate than his usual growl.

You pulled back reached up to touch his face and felt a five o’clock shadow you hadn’t seen earlier. The stubble was blond, golden even. Then you met his eyes. “I’ll tell you when there’s something that I don’t.”

You saw—and heard, thanks to your hearing quirk—Katsuki gulp and wondered for a moment if you’d been too bold. Not for you—you wanted to tell the truth, wanted to wear your heart on your sleeve—but for him. There was something aloof about Katsuki, something distant that you were only starting to see break down. But, at the same time, if your honesty was what built his walls back up, then maybe it would be better for him to step away, leave now while there was still an inch of distance between you.

He didn’t, though. His lips connected with yours once again, and now you registered that sheer stubble scratching against your chin. His big hands were on your bra, kneading into your breasts as he began to kiss down your jaw. You moaned at the warm sensation of his chapped lips against your delicate neck. The tips of his spiky hair tickled your cheek and you giggled, leaning your face away.

“What?” Katsuki asked, pulling back.

“Just a little tickle,” you said, playing with his hair as a smile made your nose scrunch up. “Carry on.”

His brows furrowed at you for just a second, then a lopsided smile graced his lips. You reached to peck them and gave him an expectant look, inviting back more of the action. He let out a little huff and then he was kissing you once more.

His hands moved to your back, fingers beginning to pull at your bra’s clasp. You murmured against his lips. “Hey, fair’s fair. You don’t get to see more of my goods until I see yours.”

Katsuki pulled back again and you wondered if he was getting fed up with you. Maybe it was the alcohol, but you were feeling silly. There was no need to rush, after all. You had all night.

But he was smiling again, brows quirked in that same amused confusion. Then, to your surprise, he said, “You’re something else, aren’t you?”

Eyes closed, you might have taken offense at his words. They came out low in his voice like an insult, almost an accusation. But eyes open, you saw the softness in his face, and you knew that it was a compliment. Probably the best one he could give. And you were going to take it.

“You’re going to find out, aren’t you?”

His smile widened for a second before falling, though the playfulness hadn’t left his eyes. Face serious, he prompted, “Which half qualifies as ‘the goods?’”

You indulged yourself in running your palms against his pectorals again, wondering if this was how men felt when they focused their attention on your breasts. If so, you finally understood it. “These,” you said. “For now.”

Katsuki stepped back and raised his tank up, throwing it to the ground—and making you gawk at his rippling muscles. It wasn’t that his tank top left much to the imagination—you’d read whole articles in the past that had poetic passages sculpting the body of David onto Katuski’s arms, the shoulders of Hercules imprinted over his own.

But this was so much better than the dry prose of paper and ink.

There was a thin layer of sweat on his body, catching the winking evening light on every bulging muscle. You couldn’t help but bend in and lick his chest from the lower crease of his pectoral up to his nipple, giving it a little bite. Katsuki hissed and you giggled, biting again. Then he had his hands back on you, ready to undo your bra. This time, you weren’t going to stop him.

Your bra was tossed to the floor and, the next thing you knew, your pants and his were next. When he took his belt off, the baggy things fell to the ground almost immediately and then he ripped off his socks. Somewhere along the way, you’d made it over to your bed, and Katsuki had pushed you back onto it before climbing on top of you, the only thing separating you both now being two thin pairs of underwear.

Katsuki was all teeth, nipping at your jaw, your neck, and making it down to your breasts before he bit hard, paying you back for your mouthiness. “Fuck,” you breathed when it took him a moment to let go, your nipple pulsing as the blood came pumping back. “You know, it doesn’t surprise me that you’re a little rough.”

“It doesn’t surprise me that you’re a little wordy,” he shot back.

The alcohol hadn’t made him any less sharp, that was for sure. And sharp was such a good word for this man. There were the sharp angles of his hair, his jaw, the sharp words spat like acid out of his mouth, and his sharp wit, keeping him from being another hunk with an overpowered quirk. You’d read—and written—enough articles featuring Ground Zero that you knew his brain was nearly as valuable as his brawn. And even though, right now, the brawn was what most of your focus on, you’d never have taken him home if that was all he’d had.

There was a lot to this guy. A lot more than any profiles or news reports had ever even scratched the surface of.

“Complaining, are we?” you shot back. “Then you should find a way to make me shut up.”

Katsuki’s eyes narrowed at you and you saw the same excitement you’d seen on his face before you’d gone to the bar. Challenging Katsuki was proving to be an excellent motivator. It put him squarely, willingly, in the palm of your hand.

“No problem.”

He’d already been making his way down your body, but—whatever his intent had been before—it now became crystal clear as he ripped your panties down and tossed your legs apart.

He didn’t hesitate. The moment his hands were on your thighs, the flat of his tongue ran the whole length of your cunt, making you tense up, and immediately fall into a groan. Your hands went into his hair, unafraid to tug a little as he began lapping at your clit in earnest. He’d been rough with you—you could pay him back in kind.

You hadn’t realized how aroused you were, but you could feel Katsuki’s tongue spreading your wetness across your pussy, proving how far gone you already were.

You moaned again when two fingers began prodding at your entrance, slipping around in your slick before sinking in, wasting no time in curling his fingers to prod at your spongy front wall.

This was the opposite of a tease, and it felt almost as infuriating. As wet as you were, the immediate attention—lips sucking at your clit, fingers not even thrusting so much as striking your g-spot—had your inebriated brain struggling to catalog the sensations. It was a blast of pleasure here, a burst of arousal there—almost like he was using his quirk on you.

“Fuck,” you whined again, giving his hair a particular tug as your body clenched. This was happening so much faster than the lead up had. You weren’t running towards your orgasm—you were tumbling. All it would take would be one trip and you’d fall over the edge before you’d gotten your breath under you, the ground under foot. He was going to yank it out of you before you were ready—and you weren’t opposed.

Then, all at once, he pulled away, a wicked smirk curling his wet lips to one side. You pushed up on your elbows, looking down at him in disbelief.

“Not quite silent, but definitely quieter,” he said, seeming pleased with himself. He crawled back up to you and pressed his lips to yours, giving you a brassy taste of yourself. “But I think I’d rather you scream.”

If you hadn’t been wet before, you were drenched now. You stared him down.

“Boxers off.”

Again, he wasted no time. The boxers were thrown off the side of the bed so fast that you’d hardly witnessed the reveal of the other half of the goods. And boy, was it good.

His cock was weeping, the head an angry red, almost like his eyes. So, deceptively angry. Everything else on his body was so fair, from his lightly tan skin to his blond hair, that his dark cock stuck out like the middle of a bullseye. You couldn’t stop staring.

“So that’s how you shut up,” he said, smirk returning.

“You shut up,” you breathed, pulling him back down to you and catching his lips, so you were both silent once again.

He rutted against you for just a moment before he pulled away, holding himself in a plank over you that drew your attention back to his arms, his shoulders, his core. Every pant set his abs rippling, like low tide falling to reveal smooth, polished rocks underneath.

“Condom?” he asked.

“Mhmm,” you said, nearly lunging for your bedside table. You reached for the drawer and snatched a packet, tearing it open in one go and rolling it down to the base of Katsuki’s cock. You gave a few pumps for good measure and then lay back on your purple pillow, ready for this to go where it was going to go.

Katsuki wasn’t content to let you choose anything, though. He hooked both his arms around the back of your thighs and dragged your ass up his kneeled legs. Your back was arched in a dancer’s port de bras and his sealed cock was poking at your center.

“Woah,” you giggled as he manhandled you, hoping the bouncing on the mattress was a preview of what was to come.

“Is this okay?” Katsuki asked, taking his first good pause since you’d started to look at you, eyes wide.

Your grin softened into a warm smile and you rubbed your hand on his thigh whilst scooting yourself a little closer to his cock. “You better fucking fuck me.”

The breath of air that came out of his mouth was almost that of a laugh. Probably something about the dissonance between the sweetness of your tone and on your face, versus the way you were grinding on his cock and your fearless mouth. But, for one brief snapshot, you were just smiling at each other, almost innocently happy. Then, Bakugou’s grip on you tightened, and his smile became a smirk.

“Okay, then.”

For a moment, it seemed like he was going to go slow. He pressed just the tip in and you quivered at the beginning of the stretch, the anticipation warming your belly. Then, all at once, anticipation was thrown to the wind as he tugged your thighs up his, crashing your hips together.

A surprised gasp left your mouth as Katsuki sat up off his heels, bringing your hips with him as he started pounding into you, rocking his hips forward and hands yanking your hips to meet him. Every impact sent your ass smacking into his thighs and you were left gloriously out of control.

He was out of reach. You could only brush your fingers against his thighs at the moments where you were seated on his hips, but he was going too fast, constantly pulling out of your grasp. So, you figured that, if you couldn’t touch him, you could damn well touch yourself.

You started with your nipples, pulling and tweaking them, both, feeling how the left one was tenderer from Katsuki’s love bite than the right. Your mouth fell open, and you heard Katsuki murmur, “Fuck,” before driving into you just a bit faster.

“Uhn,” you moaned when he adjusted his hold on you, angling just a little harder into your g-spot. It was bringing you to the cusp, but you’d never be able to reach your peak with that alone. So you slithered a hand down your stomach and past your curls down to where your clit was standing at attention, still holding the touch memory of Katsuki’s tongue laving against it. You rubbed three fingers over the nub and felt yourself clench down hard, yanking another hiss from Katsuki. You mewled and found yourself approaching the edge, just about ready to tip over when your hips fell to the mattress, Katsuki’s dick slipping out.

In a moment, he was on top of you, pressing into you from every angle except where you need it most. More importantly, your wrists were now in his hands, above your head and pressed into your headboard.

“Did you think it would be that easy, princess?”

You moaned, just his words enough to have you clenching again, craving his cock back inside you already. You felt your orgasm receding, but the heat of his tight grip on your wrists, his breath just a puckered kiss away from yours, had you certain that the waves would start crashing back quickly.

Once again, when his cock was pressed just against your core, he thrust in to the hilt. But you still couldn’t touch him—or yourself now. His thighs were against yours, your chests breathing into each others, but he’d brought both of your wrists into one hand’s grip and it didn’t seem like he had any mind to let you go.

But that didn’t mean you were powerless.

You wrapped your thighs around his hips and pressed him into you, forcing his long thrusts to stay deep, feeling like they were hitting your spine with every go. Katsuki growled into your ear and put more weight into his hips, forcing you into the mattress with every thrust. Your sensitive hearing had you clocking every slight hitch in his breath, every hard exhale as he poured all his effort into you. You could hear how wound up he was getting, even though it barely showed past the determination on his face.

He began pressing half-formed kisses against your jaw, making you arch up to meet his mouth. There was a thick line of sensation from your cunt to your neck, but it wasn’t enough. “Please, Katsuki,” you whimpered, feeling your hands begin to go cold from the tight grip above your head.

“What?” he asked, and you could feel the smile against your neck.

“Touch me…let me touch you…anything,”

“What, is my cock not enough for you?” He fought back against the hold your legs had on his hips and sent three hard thrusts into your cunt, drawing a gasp out of you.

“I just…want you,” you breathed.

A couple more silent thrusts had you thinking that he was going to ignore you, torture you with this edging forever. Then, your hands were free again and you immediately threaded your fingers through his hair and pulled him in for a real kiss. His thrusts became more uneven, but he reached a hand down to your clit and started rubbing. There was less finesse than when you’d been doing it yourself, but that didn’t stop a moan from rippling out of your throat and into the kiss. You tugged his hair harder and smashed his face into yours for all it was worth.

It took mere seconds for your orgasm to start approaching again, like it had never left in the first place. “I’m close,” you murmured into his mouth, feeling your thighs start to shake as your easy control began to fall to pieces.

“Me too,” Katsuki said, upping the tempo of his fingers and his thrusts as you both chased the edge.

You focused your mind on his fingertips rapidly swiping over your sensitive clit, so desperate for your peak that everything else seemed to fade away. You were vaguely aware of your own whining, halves of words tumbling out as you urged Katsuki on, but all you could see was that light at the end of the tunnel, that beacon shining for you.

Katsuki’s name tore past your lips when you finally came, his hand never stopping on your clit as he took a few more thrusts before groaning himself, spilling into the condom.

His lips met yours in a lazy kiss as he managed a few more slow thrusts, his hand pulling away from your oversensitive nub. Then he stilled, waiting one moment more before pulling out and yanking off the condom. You gestured to a trash can off to the side and he tossed it in, unceremoniously and with perfect aim.

Then he fell to the side, flopping beside you on your bed as you both breathed heavily, still coming down from your highs. A smile was forming widely on your face and you giggled, once, and then a few times until you were sure you seemed crazy. You just felt so good that you couldn’t help but feel elated, giddy.

“Not bad, Katsuki,” you said when you finally settled, turning your head to meet eyes that were already staring at you.

Katsuki broke the eye contact with a shake of his head, a scoff scraping the back of his throat. “Fuck off.”

“Alright then.” You turned your face away from him first, knowing you wouldn’t be able to hide your smile as you played at leaving. You couldn’t hold the act for long, though, and turned around to see him looking concerned. You almost laughed again—where did he think you would go? “Just going to the bathroom. Don’t want to sully this with a UTI.”

You reached back and put a hand to his jaw in the slightest test to see if anything else would sully this. Would he pull away from the intimacy now that he’d gotten his gratification? But no, when you leaned down to kiss him, he rose to meet you, and your lips lingered for just a moment longer than necessary. In that moment of closeness, when everything else was silent, you could hear the beating of his heart. It had been pounding in your perceptive ears the whole night, fast and strong. But that had been when the action was rising, when he’d been sweating from exertion. Now, as things were settling, his heart rate should have been too. But, with your lips against his, it wasn’t.

You took the few short steps from your bedroom to the bathroom, feeling the heat that had been dancing in your body leave through the soles of your feet on the bathroom tile. The alcohol was no longer pushing the hot blood to your skin as it began to leave your system. After using the restroom and cleaning yourself up, you took a big glug of water to stave off a next-day hangover.

When you came back to your room, you wanted to be back at Katsuki’s warm side immediately, preferably under the blankets. So you began to pull back your sheets when you remembered to ask, “Want me to get you a glass of water?”

“Nah,” Katsuki said with a shake of his head.

“Mm, okay.”

You didn’t press him. He was an adult and surely he knew what his body needed. He’d seemed squarely lucid anyhow, so maybe alcohol just didn’t hit him very hard.

You sighed once your body was tucked beneath your bedding, feeling the warmth creep back into your toes and up your legs as Katsuki settled in beside you. You felt the urge to have him close again, that you couldn’t possibly get close enough to him. But he wasn’t making any moves toward you, so you asked, “Do you like cuddling?”

“No,” Katsuki answered, and you were disappointed. But only for a moment, because then he was pressed against you, arms holding you close in what was most definitely a cuddle.

“You don’t have to do it just for me!” you said with a laugh.

His defiant streak was back as he pulled you closer. You wondered if somewhere between the lines you’d inadvertently challenged him again. “Nobody makes me do anything.”

“I’ll bet not,” you whispered, sleep grasping at the pitch of your voice. You could hear his heart pounding again, and smiled to yourself. “See you tomorrow, Katsuki.”

One of his arms left you for a moment as it reached back and then over you, placing something on the bedside table. But it was back in place as soon as it left and, if possible, he snuggled even closer to you. You smiled, surprised that you’d found the hidden affectionate side of this man. Or maybe not surprised so much as…pleased. Happy. You couldn’t wait to wake up tomorrow and see what it brought. It seemed anything was possible, after what today had given you.

Katsuki’s breathing began to even out almost immediately, and it seemed he’d already fallen asleep. But just as you relaxed to do so yourself, you felt his mouth move against your lightly bruised neck, and say, “See you tomorrow, Y/N.”

[rebeccccccaaa]

ɢʀᴀᴛɪᴛᴜᴅᴇ

____________________

ʙᴏᴅʏɢᴜᴀʀᴅ!sᴛᴇᴠᴇ ʀᴏɢᴇʀs x ᴍᴏʙʙᴏss!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛᴇᴅ: Mob boss!Readers x bodyguard!Steve Rogers Some other gang leader doesn’t believe reader is the boss bc she’s a woman and he tries to manhandle her until Steve attacks him and then she thanks him with smut

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: Smut 18+, major angst, but there’s fluff because I can’t help myself ;)

ᴛᴡ: sᴇxᴜᴀʟ ᴀssᴀᴜʟᴛ/ʜᴀʀᴀssᴍᴇɴᴛ, ᴅᴇᴘɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴏғ ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄ ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, ᴀɴᴅ ɢᴜɴ ᴜsᴇ

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇs: Ah! I’ve never written anything about mobs and shit I’m so excited!

_____________________

“I’ll be fine,” you cupped Steve’s face.

“I should go in there with you. You’ve never met this guy and the others said he was creepy,” Steve sighed resting his hand on your hip. Steve was essentially your bodyguard highly recommended by your father when you took over the mob. 

“Sit here and eat your muffin, read your newspaper and if anything happens I’ll shout,” you grinned. 

“Y/n,” Steve said sternly.

“Sit down,” you patted his shoulder. 

He eventually sat beside the door grabbing the newspaper before taking an aggressive bite of his muffin making you giggle. You fluffy his hair before entering the room for your meeting with another boss. Your father advised you to expand trading and you’ve never been one to be ‘social’ so it was something you put off for years now. But now it’s getting late so here you are talking to a creep that offered a trade with you.

“Hi, thank you for coming,” you said entering the conference room. 

“Why hello? Aren’t you a cute little thing,” the man snarled.

“Excuse me?” you quipped. 

“Well, had I known there’d be a little plaything for me while I wait I would’ve come by sooner,” he stood up towering over you.

“I’m sorry, you must be very mistaken, sir. We don’t degrade women here,” you smiled sarcastically.

“Haha, you’re funny. I do like women who can make me laugh,” he grabbed at your hips.

“Sir, you are incredibly mistaken. I am the leader of this mob and if you lay your disgustingly meaty hands on me one more time I won’t hesitate to put a bullet through your thick skull,” you growled. The man’s temper bursted and he aggressively grabbed your throat pulling you too close to his body. 

“Listen here you little brat, you’re gonna do what a woman was meant to do and if you don't get on your knees baby girl you’ll get what’s coming to ya.”

“Get off of me!” you shoved him back.

“Nu-uh pretty girl, you’re gonna suck my cock until the big man gets here whether you like it or not!”

Steve sat eating his muffin trying his best to ignore the muffled voices from inside the conference room. He couldn’t help but worry about your safety being with that creep. When the guy first arrived he groped one of the housekeepers and laughed as if he did nothing wrong. Steve sat there desperately hoping this meeting with that scumbag doesn’t go well and you'll drop him. He can’t even imagine working with a man like that, especially when you're a woman. 

Suddenly he heard a shriek emerge from the room and Steve bursted through the door. He pulled his gun out seeing the man bending you over your own desk pulling the hem of your pants. Steve aimed the gun and shot the man in the back of his knee making him fall to the ground groaning in pain. 

“Fuck,” you groaned running to Steve. He held you tightly in a panic and you breathed heavily against him. 

“Are you ok?” he asked. 

“I think so,” you swallowed loudly. 

“I’m gonna kill you,” you looked at the writhing man on your floor. 

“I’m sorry, fuck! I’m sorry!”

“Steve, get out,” you ordered.

“No, sweetheart I’m not leaving you alone again with this man,” he raised his voice.

“Steve, please,” you looked at him.

“Baby,” he sighed.

“Go!”

You looked back at the man still squirming on the floor in pure agony. You pulled a pack of cigarettes off your desk placing one between your chapped and bitten lips. You walked around the desk keeping your eye trained on the shithead. You grabbed your lighter and lit the cigarette before reaching inside one of your drawers and grabbing a gun. 

The silvery metal reflected the smallest light around your office as you approached him. 

Steve stood in the hallway with his hand resting on the handle of the door, biting his lip anxiously. His heart sank when he heard a gunshot and he bursted through the door finding you sitting with a cigarette between your lips and your gun in hand. 

“What the hel-” he found the man dead bleeding from his head. You stared at the body in disgust, blood spattered on your face and clothes. You dragged the poison and blew the smoke into the air. Steve slowly walked up to you cupped your face to look at him. 

“What happened?” he whispered. 

“I made sure he never does what he did to me to another woman ever again,” you said monotonously.

“Come here,” Steve picked you up and you tossed the cigarette on the dead man burning his bloodied face. 

Steve carried you to your room and sat you on your bed. You stayed still staring at nothing while Steve grabbed you a towel. He cleaned the blood of your face and tears fell down your face. You felt humiliated and violated. 

“Are you ok?” Steve whispered, afraid as if he spoke too loud he would startle you. 

“Yeah,” you choked out.

“No, you’re not.”

“Steve, I am. Truthfully. If you hadn’t been there, I can’t even imagine what would have happened,” you breathed out heavily calming yourself. 

“I owe you a great debt, Steve,” you said softly. 

“No you don’t, I’m just doing my job.”

“Thank you,” you leaned in closely and brushed your nose against his.

Suddenly Steve felt small. He was always a confident man, something you deeply admired about him, but being able to make him feel this way, all bothered and shy, gave you a sense of even more power over him. 

You brushed a hair from his face and moved to sit on his lap, your legs on either side of his thighs. You circled your hand down to his chin lifting it slightly to make him look at you with those gorgeous blue eyes; like sapphires.

“I see the way you look at me Steve,” you whispered.

“We can’t,” he said back.

“Why not? I know how bad you’ve wanted me,” you trailed your hand down his chest.

“Y/n, you’re vulnerable. I can’t take advantage of you like that,” he said. You have this desire to regain control after what happened and conquering Steve would do just that whether you admit it or not. He wants to so badly have his way with you but he knows he’s just a grievance. You’ll wake up the next morning and pretend this never happened, that the words he’d whisper to you are just that, words. The love he’d give you isn’t reciprocated. He can’t let you break him like that. 

“What’s going on?” you asked seeing him in a sort of mental battle.

“Nothing, you should rest,” he said.

“I don’t want to rest. I don’t want to be alone,” you told him.

He looked at you with soft eyes, clenching his jaw tight. His hands were resting on your hips and he desperately fought the urge to move them; under your shirt, over your cheeks or thighs, anywhere, he wanted to feel you so bad. 

“Steve,” you breathed out, practically moaning. 

“Fuck,” Steve said with frustration.

“Please,” you cupped his face.

When he did say anything you got off of him and slowly made your way to the bathroom. Steve sat there regretful breathing out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. You were right there. In his arms and he pushed you away. 

You came out again wearing simple nightwear and trotted to Steve once again. You didn’t sit on his lap despite the both of you secretly wishing you would again but you did sit fairly close; your shoulder pressed against his. 

You rested your head on him, the both of your staring at the floor in silence. You slowly up at him cupping his bearded jaw with your delicate hand. You brushed the hairs with your fingers, you’d always preferred his beard than without. You had been the one to convince him not to shave and you had been the one he did it for. 

You couldn’t stop yourself and neither could Steve when the two of you met in the middle, your lips pressing against each other perfectly. Your eyes fluttered closed at the feeling and his hands went to where they belonged on your hips. You two kissed for what felt like an eternity; an eternity of pure lust and ecstasy. Steve pushed you down to lay flat on your bed, his hips settling between your legs. 

“Tell you want me, tell me how much you need me,” Steve said against your lips.

“I want you, I need you, so fucking bad,” you moaned.

“Tell me this is real,” he said with his eyes screwed shut. 

Steve had been so enamored by you since the day he met you. He used to work for your father before he retired and he insisted that Steve worked alongside you, to protect you. You were hesitant about having him around, independency clouding your mind when you became leader, but little did Steve know you had become very fond of the man at your side everywhere you went. 

He occupied every part of your mind for years now. The confidence he oozed, and sexiness he projected; how could anybody not fall in love? He was the source of the many nights you laid alone in bed, your hand between the junction of your thighs, writhing and panting dreaming of his body pressing against you just as he now. 

Steve fought his desires just as long as you did. When he looks at you, he can’t help the stutters and skips his heart makes. When you laugh, especially at something he says, he feels like a little boy again talking to his crush from school. You’re just so beautiful and dauntless, graceful and fearless. He can’t help but fall in love. Anyone would. 

“Steve, look at me, please.” 

Steve’s eyes pried open, terrified you would disappear if he did.

“This is real. I want you so badly; I need you. Please make me feel good,” you whispered against his lips. 

Steve kissed passionately before moving his lips across your jaw line, nipping and biting the soft skin. His hands held your waist firmly under your shirt, gently squeezing your sides making you giggle. 

“That tickles,” you giggled.

“The scary mob boss is ticklish?” Steve joked. 

“Stop it!” you shrieked when he tickled harder.

Steve laughed at you for a moment before capturing your lips in a kiss once again. He pulled up again sitting back on his knees bringing you with him up to his chest. He looked into your lust blown eyes carefully lifting your shirt. You eagerly raised your arms allowing him to discard it before you did the same to him.

You marveled at his toned body, your hands smoothing over his muscles and the little hairs that littered his chest. Steve's hands came up your side, his thumbs grazing lightly over your perked nipples making your body shiver with need. 

He sat comfortably bringing you to your knees so he was in line with your chest. He leaned forward and kissed all over before wrapping his lips around your nipple. His tongue swirled around it and his teeth grazed the nub before releasing with a pop and doing the same with the other.

The feeling of his tongue made you extremely aroused soaking your panties. You breathed heavily relishing in his attention. Your fingers combed through his hair lightly pulling on his long strands. He groaned softly, his eyes fluttering in pleasure. You’ll keep that in mind.

You sank down fully sitting in his lap, when you felt him poking you through both of your fabrics. You hand snaked down in between your bodies and you pressed on his erection with your hand, making him groan again. 

“Fuck, don’t tease me.”

“Then take these off.”

You quickly got off of his lap and he hurried to stand and take his pants off. You giggled at the sudden flurry of clothes but your face quickly turned to shock when you saw the size of Steve for the first time. 

“Baby, that’s not going to fit in me,” you said, making him chuckle.

“We’ll never know if we don’t try,” he winked. 

You bit your lip and laid back for him. He rubbed your legs softly curling his fingers over your bottoms and reluctantly pulled them down your legs. He kissed your legs up to your stomach before coming face to face with you once again. 

He kissed you with need like he would never be able to again after tonight. He doesn’t feel convinced that this is real. That tomorrow when you wake up beside you’ll realize that maybe you don’t fancy him like you say right now.

You reached forward wrapping your hand around his cock looking up at him with faux innocent eyes licking and biting your lips seductively. Steve could help but groan as he laid atop of you, hard as rock. 

Steve kissed your lips and he swears that he could stay like this forever. Your lips, although chapped and dry, were so addictive and obsessive. Your legs wrapped around his hips and your arms around his shoulders pulling him close to you as if he’d float away. He pushed slowly in you and you let out a shaky moan. Steve’s head that was buried lifted quickly, looked at you and whispered soft praises to you. 

“You’re doing so well, baby,” he whispered against your lips.

“Steve, move please,’ you moaned. 

He snapped his hips back and rutted into you over and over again. He placed his hand on your lower belly and felt his cock poking with each thrust. He grabbed your hand and placed it there too and you gasped at the fleeing before moaning loudly.

“Fuck, Steve,” you whimpered.  

“You’re so fucking beautiful, baby. God, you feel amazing. Pussy’s fucking perfect; you’re perfect,” he said against your ear. His words made your stomach flutter and your heart burst. He kissed the skin below it and your body shuddered at the feeling of his cool lips against your hot skin. Your hands raked through his long hair and you tugged on the locks bringing his head back up. You instantly attached your lips to his kissing him messily and passionately. 

Your pants and moans became louder with each thrust he got closer to making you release. You moaned his name over and over like a prayer. Steve grunted and his chest tightened feeling overwhelmed by you. 

His hips faltered and you pushed his shoulders rolling over with his cock still inside you. You quickly moved your hips back and forth, your hands pressing flat against his chest to support you, nails scratching his chest leaving dark red marks. Steve’s hands reached for your breasts, his thumbs grazing over your hardened nipples. His hands landed in their place on your hips guiding you, though you didn’t need it much.

“Fuck, baby. I’m gonna come,” he moaned.

“Come in me, fuck! Stevie, I want it all, give it to me,” you said staring at his lips. 

“Fuck!”

Steve snapped his hips up and you felt his hot cum coating your walls. The feeling overwhelmed you and you came in time with him. Your eyes rolled back, your back arched, and you felt incredible. This career, if you can call it that, has run into plenty of lousy men and you wasted many hours with them but this, you could bask in the feeling of Steve’s arms and fully be content with life. 

You fell forward and Steve wrapped his arms around you. You breathed heavily and Steve’s hand rubbed your head lovingly. Your eyelids felt heavy and you couldn’t help the tiredness that overcame you. Steve laid there carefully listening to your breathing even out. He couldn’t believe that you were actually laying, naked and beautifully, in his arms. He dreamed of this moment more than he liked to admit.

Hours later you felt yourself suddenly wake. You were in a cold sweat shaking uncontrollably. You got off Steve who was still sleeping soundly beneath you. His face was so angelic, no it was god like. He looked so at peace you felt awful disturbing his comfort when you crawled off him quietly.

You grabbed one of the thin sheets that had fallen to the floor and wrapped lazily around your body and walked to the large window of your room. You looked out the window before grabbing the pack of cigarettes and lighter sitting fixed on the window ledge waiting to be used during your lowest moments.

You felt vulnerable. 

Steve laid on your bed and you really appreciated him. You genuinely liked him and you know he probably doesn’t believe you yet. He was so charming and compassionate. He protected you especially after what happened today. 

What happened today. God, you can imagine what would happen, what you would do to get out of that awful situation but when it happens, when it becomes reality… you forget everything. You forget how to breathe, how to move. It was terrifying. Even after everything you’d seen being a boss. 

“Whatcha thinking about?” Steve came up behind you, wrapping his strong arms around you. 

“God! You fucking scared me,” you looked at him.

“Sorry,” he smirked. 

He leaned forward and placed kisses along your shoulder and neck. You dragged the cigarette, closing your eyes at the delicious feeling of Steve’s kisses. His hands grazed under the sheet, his fingertips tickling the skin of your belly.

“Stop it,” you warned.

“Oh right, the scary mob lady is ticklish. I’ll keep that in mind,” he whispered, his lips against your ear.

“I swear to god, Steve. I’ll fire you,” you chuckled.

“Are you feeling any better? If that’s possible,” he said after a moment.

“You’re here with me,” you told him. 

“Please don’t leave me,” you teared up. This was the first time Steve had ever seen you vulnerable, visibly upset, crying. He’s never seen you cry.

“I would never leave you; not unless you want me to,” he cupped your face. 

“Thank you.”

Steve took the cigarette from your fingers and brought it to his lips dragging smoke and blowing it out the open window. You smiled at him before kissing his lips softly. 

“Come back to bed; it’s cold,” he placed the cigarette in the ashtray. 

You closed the window and Steve picked you up taking you to bed. You cuddled by his side, pressing your cold body against his warm one. You buried your face into his neck and fell sound asleep. He made you feel safe and protected. You easily let your guard down when you were with him and after tonight you really felt your walls coming down for him. And Steve was more than willing to come in. 

 ===================

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: (For all my work)

@mathletemadison​

@buckybarnes101​

@l-sofiamia-l 

[missskzbiased]

I Hate That I’m Afraid to Love You (21)

Genre: Romance, Friendship, Angst, Hurt /Confort , Suggestive, Fluff, College Au, Enemies to Friends to Lovers Au, REALLY Slow burn, Love Square (?)

Pairing: Hyunjin X Fem!Reader  X Han X OC

WC: ~ 9,2K

[Previous] [Chap] [Next]

Masterlist

Warnings (general*): Language, Mentions of (Physical abuse, Death/ Loss of Loved One, Child Abandonment/Neglect, Divorce, Toxic Parents, Cancer, Mental disorder, Anxiety Attack, Alcohol, Food), Suggestiveness

Tag List:  here

Notes: SO! I hope you guys like it. I’m sorry for the delay. Next one will probably take some time as well. I’m an anarchist now, and updates will come out as I finish the chapters or once a week, no schedules.

PLEASE! Tell me if there is anything you would like to read regarding cute/suggestive scenes so I can include them <3

                                                      ////

    You closed the door behind you with a heavy sigh.

    It had been just a few hours ─ if you could call about eight hours just a few ─ but it felt like time enough to last for a week; the exhaustion from a day too long crushing you mercilessly. You hesitated for a second, staring at the woody surface as you held the doorknob, before letting out another sigh while dropping your shoulders. The soft thud that filled your ears as you rested your forehead on the door was somewhat comforting, emphasizing the silence that met you in the living room.

    Fucking finally.

    Perhaps you were just too overwhelmed by all the things that happened along the day but as you wandered your eyes to the floor ─ meeting the familiar surface under your feet ─ there was an impossibly tight feeling in your chest that urged to be released. The realization that you were indeed at home crawled you little by little, getting to your mind and making you tear up. You never thought that day would come to an end but then you were right there in your living room, enjoying the comforting silence of your home.

    You inhaled deeply, feeling every single corner of your lungs being filled by the air and holding it in as you closed your eyes to focus on everything that you shut away inside your head. The flickering thought that crossed your mind ─ two dark orbs that dived into your soul; a hurt twinkle dancing in them ─ made your breath falter for a second. The urge to cry hit you like a truck, and as soon as you choked on your own emotions and memories, the moment died in your throat.

    You couldn’t let Paris see you crying for him.

    You opened your eyes slowly, frowning as you focused on the complete lack of any sounds in the dorm. Why was it so silent in here? You detached your forehead from the door, turning around with narrowed eyes that roamed around the place just to find it empty. What was going on? You finally placed your eyes on the TV ─ turned off, therefore explaining the lack of the background noises ─, confused as to why Paris wasn’t watching it as usual.

    “Paris?” You called unsurely, stepping away from the door to get a better look inside the house, “Paris?” You tried again, knocking on her door before opening it and peeking inside her room. No one to be seen. You frowned as you closed the door, divided between feeling relieved or worried about her absence.

    Did she mention anything to you?

    You roamed your eyes around the room again, looking for any piece of paper that could vaguely resemble a note but finding nothing in sight. There was something definitely wrong here. It wasn’t like Paris to go out so late at night… Especially without a previous warning. Did something happen to her? You pursed your lips, fumbling through your pockets to find your phone ─ hopeful of any kind of message or missed calls ─ and setting your sadness and tiredness aside for a moment.

    No message or missed calls.

    As much as you wanted to be alone ─ finally allowed to mourn over your poorly made decisions ─, you didn’t want to be crying while Paris could be out there in need of a friend. At the same time, the realization that it was yet another thing to deal with at the end of this excruciating day didn’t help much. The way your eyes turned watery again brought another heavy sigh out of your lips as you rubbed your face in distress, trying to organize your thoughts.

    You pinched your nose bridge ─ index and thumb holding it firmly ─ before you let your fingers slide to make some pressure on your eyes. The motion ─ the closest thing that you would have from a calming massage ─ was barely able to ease your nerves, relieving the pent-up stress in an unsatisfying way that would have to be enough for now. You felt your eyebrows knitting as you tried to hold back your tears; lips quivering and chin trembling.

    You had to organize your thoughts… You should be thinking… You should be doing something… You should make a decision… Why weren’t you calling her? Why were your feet stuck on the floor? Why weren’t you running or yelling or crying or –

    The creaking sound snapped you out of your thoughts and your eyes glued to the entrance as the opening door revealed a smiling Paris carrying some plastic bags. You let go of your phone to stare at her blankly; arms dropping to your sides as she closed the door behind her. The way she walked to the counter ─ placing the bags there without much thought ─ was an incredible indicator that she was fine as hell and you were worrying over nothing.

   Honestly? You didn’t even have the energy to be mad at her.

    “You’re here” There was something under her tone that raised your suspicion immediately. The sentence hung in somewhere between excitement and acknowledgment, and you couldn’t help but frown at her input “I bought us some stuff” She shifted to a somewhat knowing tone, looking at you with glinting eyes as she gestured to the bags.

    Usually, you would ask what was going on with her. Or at least you would study each motion and pattern she had ever presented to you so you could figure it out. But not today. No… Not today. Today you just wanted to go to your bed, tuck yourself inside your blankets and bawl your eyes out for rejecting Hyunjin.

    You wanted to suffer for something you put yourself into and were now regretting. You wanted to be alone, and safe, and able to ignore anything that could add to your already stressful day. You wanted to ignore Paris and any strange antics she was displaying right now for whatever reason she had.

    You wanted to feel at home.  

  “Yeah… Yeah, I’m here” You agreed mindlessly, averting your eyes to your door and nodding your head at it “And now I’m going there,” You said, forcing a small smile as you took the first step to your safety nest. You didn’t miss the way her expression dropped ─ a mix of shock, confusion, and upsetness going through her face ─ but you choose to ignore it as you took another step towards your goal.

  “Wait” She blurted; eyes darkening as she looked at you “Don’t you want to tell me about your day?” She sounded conflicted ─ maybe even offended ─ as she crossed her arms over her chest, tilting her head to the side “I thought… I thought that since I missed classes yesterday and we didn’t have much time to talk…” She mumbled unsurely, frowning before averting her eyes “And today…” She trailed off, darting her eyes back to you.

    Today?

    There was just so much one could ignore and pretend not to notice at all… As much as you wanted to believe it was all a coincidence, you didn’t really think that Paris would show up with your favorite ice cream and wanting to talk about your day ─ especially today ─ if she didn’t know anything. You stopped in your tracks, sighing before turning around to look at her with narrowed eyes.

    “What about it?” You asked just to throw her off, watching as she licked her lips before biting them ─ a quirk that showed up every time she was anxious ─ and swallowing dry “Do you have anything to say to me?” It was clear by your tone that you had picked up on something, and the way she darted her eyes around the room to avoid yours was a good indication that she knew it too.

    Paris and Chan were working together.

    You should have seen it earlier ─ actually, it had been happening quite a lot to you lately, hm? ─ but you had no doubts now. Of course, it could be just another gossip going around… Maybe someone had seen both of you? No… Paris wouldn’t just believe in a rumor like this… Not to the point of showing up with your favorite ice cream and asking about your day… Not to the point to get that disappointed.

    On the other side, there was someone who Paris would believe on the spot… Someone that knew far too well why you were waiting for Hyunjin. Someone who knew your feelings and his. Someone who was encouraging you to go after him. Someone who tried to trick him and make him jealous just so he would do something about it. Someone who made sure to clear his real intentions up before walking away… Someone who had been suspiciously close to Paris lately.  

    There was no way they weren’t working together.

  “No… It’s not that I have something to say but…” You watched as she uncrossed her arms, letting them drop to her sides, “I mean… It’s just that I thought… I guessed you would…” She floundered before clearing her throat; the nervous antics confirming your assumptions “… Want some ice cream after a long day?” She risked, forcing a smile that looked more like a grimace than anything else.

    “Unbelievable” You scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief.

    “Fine!” She whined, pouting as she stomped the floor “Chan told me you and Hyunjin had a talk today, okay?” She confessed bitterly as you threw her a disappointed look “I’m sorry but I am waiting for that ship to sail for too long to not be curious!” She said as if it was a good way to defend herself “Can you blame me for wanting to hear that you finally got someone who loves you?” She tried to appeal, getting another scoff.

    “Yes, I can” You said matter-of-factly, huffing before looking away from her for a second “It’s my personal life, Paris! You shouldn’t be meddling with it!” You scolded, returning your gaze to meet hers “Now what? You and Chan will be like two old ladies gossiping about my life behind my back?” You sneered, huffing “My love life is none of your business” You reminded her, tone wavering slightly with the anger boiling inside you.

    You weren’t quite sure what made you react the way you did.

    It was like your mind had split up into two different trains of thoughts that were totally opposing each other. On one side, you felt the need to be focused and rational, so you pursed your lips and tried to stay composed, pretending to be calm on the outside. On the other side, the sadness was giving way to anger and it boiled and burned you in the unhealthiest way possible.

    You wanted to scream and cry and fight and be mad and… Anything.

    You wanted anything that could put all your fears away.

    Maybe that was why you were being such an asshole.

    “Hey” Paris blurted in surprise; brows arching as she stared at you without a clue of what was happening “What the hell?” She didn’t sound offended as she said it but lost, frowning at you while tilting her head “You don’t seem too happy… Didn’t he… I mean… I thought you would be really happy right now” She admitted, trying to play dumb and not give away his feelings.

    “Yes, he did” You answered blandly; a faux calm settling in your face as you stared at her blankly “He confessed; if that’s what you’re wondering” Of course, you knew far too well that this was exactly what she wanted to know. You knew that your next line would get you into an argument but somehow you didn’t care; you even urged for it “I rejected him” You stated simply, watching for her reaction.

    The expectation raised on you as Paris seemed shocked by your input; eyes lost in yours as she didn’t have a clue of what to do now. You studied the lack of expression on her face, catching the slight change when a hundred thoughts seemed to cross her head at a time. You pursed your lips as her brows slowly knitted together ─ as if each second that went by made her realize what you had just said ─ until she finally frowned at you, mad eyes connecting to yours.

    “You did what?!” Her tone was heavy and stern, a reprehension that fueled you as she scrunched her nose to show you how she despised your decision “Y/N!” That was it! That was the anger you were looking for “Why would you do that?! You like him!” She inquired in dismay; eyes diving into yours to find any signs that could explain your behavior.

    “What does it have to do with anything?” You knew you were being obnoxious and Paris swallowed it hook, line and sinker. The way her eyes glinted in disappointment and outrage fueled you to keep pushing her boundaries “I don’t get why you’re so interested… It’s not like you want him anyway” She scoffed, averting her eyes to try and not take her anger out on you.

    “You know what?” She sighed, still refusing to look at you “I don’t get you” She shook her head in wonder; the grimace present in her face insinuating how pissed off she was “I don’t get what is going on inside your head… I really don’t” She admitted, returning her gaze to you “You’re being ridiculous and I know you know it” She added “I just don’t understand why” She stared at you, disgusted at your antics.

    “Maybe you should ask Chan” You taunted, getting a scoff as she rolled her eyes, tilting her head to look at the ceiling in a fed-up manner. You watched her curiously, waiting for her to blow up but she didn’t. Paris returned her gaze to you once more and threw you a look that almost made you ashamed of yourself.

    Almost.

    Because that was exactly what you wanted.

    You longed for her outburst.

    “I’m not going to play this game” She smirked knowingly; surprising you as she seemed to pick up on your plans “If you want to fight, you need to do way better than that” She grimaced, shaking her head to show that she wouldn't give what you wanted “If you have all this energy to keep bullshiting me then go to Hyunjin and sort things out, Y/N” She sighed, scowling “What do you expect me to do? Yell at you?” She scoffed, arching her brows skeptically.

    “Yes…” You didn’t intend to answer her so honestly but before you knew it, the word hung in the air heavily, making you shrink. You lowered your head, peeking at her reaction just to see her expression morphing into a surprised one, clearly not expecting you to actually answer her “I mean… No, of course not” You lied, voice so low that you couldn’t even convince yourself.

    “I don’t understand” She admitted simply, tilting her head in wonder. You noticed how she started moving away from the counter ─ careful as a hunter afraid that their prey might run away ─ and came in your direction with hesitant steps “Why would you want me to yell at you?” She asked with caution, glancing at you unsurely.

    “Because I deserve it…” You muttered under your breath, prompting her to hum in confusion, questioning you again without any words “Because I deserve it!” You finally snapped; head going up to allow you to meet her eyes. She yelped ─ startled at your break out ─, looking at you with wide confused eyes that couldn’t grasp what was going on “Because I’m a coward, Paris!” You added; voice shaking as you let the tears roll down your face and eyes overflowing with hurt and regret.

    “Y/N…” She mumbled; pity oozing from her eyes.

    “Don’t Y/N me!” You cut her off “Yell at me, Paris! For Lord’s sake! Yell at me! Tell me I’m wrong! Tell me I’m awful! Anything!” You wailed, hand going to rub your face and wipe away some of the tears “Anything! Just tell me that I’m a coward! Tell me that I do nothing but run away! Tell me…” You hicked up, choking on your own tears as you let yourself slowly go to the ground.

    You curled up as you sat, rocking your body back and forward.

    “Tell me I don’t deserve him… Tell me I blew everything up…” You begged, raising your eyes to meet hers. You could feel your face twisting in a pained grimace that threw her off for a second “Tell me I’m a coward, Paris… Please, tell me I’m a coward…” You couldn’t help but curl up again, hands pressing hard against your eyes as you let all your feelings out of your chest; the crying loud and ungraceful.

    She stared at you silently; gaze burning your skin.

    “Why don’t you yell at me?” You mewled; swollen eyes going back to meet hers in a suffering question that you knew she wouldn’t answer “Why can’t you do this, Paris? I’ve been bad… I did everything wrong again… I messed everything up and I can’t stop doing it!” She kept her silent stare at you, and the lack of response prompted you to keep rambling “I run and run and run and run… And I keep coming back to the same mistakes again, Paris” You vented; hand going to rub your running nose and wet cheeks.

    Again, she just stared at you.

    “Say something!” You yelled, eyebrows knitting together in renewed anger “Anything, Paris! Hit me if you want! I don’t know… Just…” You tried to fight back the quivering in your lips, tangling yourself with your own arms before lowering your head again “Just hurt me…” You pleaded, shutting your eyes as much as you could “Gimme a reason to cry, Paris…” You choked on your own words, hiding your face from her as you burst out in tears once more “I don’t wanna cry for him” You mumbled, voice muffled.

    The steps echoed in the room along with your crying but you didn’t raise your head to follow her path, shrinking when you felt two arms wrapping you. The warmth provided was very welcomed, and you leaned on her touch; the unexpected tenderness being enough for you to pour everything out of your chest. You felt Paris kissing the top of your head, no words being said as she silently supported you through your breakdown.    

    “I’m so sorry” You howled but what you really meant was thank you.

                                                       ////

   You stared at the dancing branches above you.

  The light beams that managed to get through the heavy layer of leaves decorating said branches painted the air with thin yellowish strings that caught your attention. You let your mind wander as your eyes followed every single notch that came together into a messy crease pattern, getting distracted by the falling leaves that blocked the beams every once in a while. The moment meant to be calming and reassuring to your soul but you couldn’t help but feel melancholic as the grass underneath you tickled your skin, reminding you of brighter days.

    It was kind of funny how the blue sky peeking at you behind the treetop, the insufferably shiny sun casting beams all around, and the perfectly shaped clouds couldn’t brighten up your mood. As much as you could tell that this was a beautiful day ─ maybe the most beautiful day of the whole season ─, you couldn’t feel healed by any of this. You could see it was all dazzling and colorful and perfect… Yet, you felt exactly the same as if it was a cloudy rainy day with nothing but grey to take in.

  The wind fanned all over the place; a soft puff that intensified the branches’ dance and disturbed the sunbeams’ path, allowing it to hit right at your face. The forced warmth wasn’t enjoyable and the sudden brightness that hit your eyes was even less welcomed, prompting you to close them shut. The motion was harmless and it wouldn’t bring you any suffering on any other day but something about it brought you everything you were trying to push aside right now.

    Perhaps it was the fact that you cried so much on the day before that your swollen eyes felt too heavy ─ even if you had plenty of time to get used to it by noon ─ and closing them just reminded you of your own feelings. Perhaps it was the fact that closing your eyes brought you the urge to cry again ─ even if you had already cried enough for an entire lifespan ─, reminding you of the sadness you pretended not to feel right now. Perhaps it was the fact that the blackness and emptiness behind your eyelids served as a screen to project all of the details ─ his eyes, his mole, his nose, his smile, his dimples, his tears… Just all of him ─ that you didn’t want to remember.

    You exhaled heavily.

    Perhaps it was because you were a fucking masochist that decided to lie down under the very same tree that witnessed everything… From your laughter ─ such as when you caught him pretending to read a book ─ to your bonding ─ such as when he cried while venting about his insecurities ─ to your confession ─ such as when he kissed you as if you were the only thing that mattered in his world ─ to your departure… Such as when you walked away from him, leaving all your true feelings unspoken.

    Yeah, perhaps it was because you were a masochist.

    “Are you fucking kidding me?” You snapped your eyes open, startled at the sudden intrusion as Chan’s voice made its way to your head “Do you mind explaining to me why the fuck are you lying down under this damn tree instead of making out with the bloody guy I had to trick to confess his own feelings to you?!” You sighed; eyes softening into a vulnerable gaze as you shifted to sit down and look at him “Because I sure as hell don’t have a fucking clue!” He groaned, clasping his hands together as he met your gaze in a demanding and inquiring glare.

    “I don’t know what you want me to say” You confessed, exhaling heavily as you crossed your legs, resting your arms on your lap as you lifted your chin to fully return his gaze. He scoffed ─ closing his hands on a fist as he bit his lips to hold back a comment that would have probably hurt you ─ before throwing his head back to huff at the sky. Chan returned his eyes to you with nothing but outrage, grimacing before pinching his nose bridge tiredly, trying to stay composed.

    The façade didn’t last even for a second.

    “Say that you fucking love him!” He snapped, floundering his hands in the air to try and calm down “Wasn’t that what you wanted to say to him?” He asked in distress, eyes urging for your answer “Isn’t this how you feel?” He insisted, offering you a lost and yet frustrated look that prompted you to sigh “Just go and kiss him! I don’t know!” He pressed his temples, closing his eyes as he exhaled heavily to try and organize his thoughts.

    You stared at him blankly, studying his upset features for a few seconds before you lowered your head, focusing your gaze on your lap. Contrary to what you would have expected, the sudden outburst didn’t startle you. If nothing else, his scolding felt like a warm comforting hug and a pat on the back. It was just what you needed. The way he yelled those words at you ─ demanding to know why you had chickened out like that ─ was just like hearing everything going on inside your head out loud.

    There was something about hearing it from him and not from yourself ─ from actually hearing it and not just torturing yourself with those thoughts ─ that fulfilled your needs. It felt real. It was like all those words and feelings weren’t just inside your head anymore. You weren’t the one mourning and reliving everything. You weren’t the only one who despised your actions; plus, you could see it plastered over his face in a way that was impossible to ignore.

      And you didn’t want to.

      As you looked at him, you felt the urge to take care of Chan… To calm him down… To soothe him. This feeling ─ the kindness that finally ran through your veins instead of the hatred and contempt ─ was strong enough to distract you from your mind. Maybe that was what you really needed. Although you could reach out for Chan─ place your hand on his ankle and squeeze it reassuringly ─, you couldn’t do the same for yourself.

    You didn’t deserve it.

    The disappointment you held for your actions was too much to allow you to be this kind to someone so unworthy of it as you. The way you saw it, there were just two possible ways to deal with it. You either cried everything out ─ and you didn’t think you had the right to do it ─ or you relived it over and over again ─ punishing yourself for being like this.

    There was no time to be kind to someone like you.

    But you could be kind to Chan.

    Maybe it could make you worthy of something other than hatred.

    You didn’t need any words as you lifted your eyes to meet his; thumb rubbing circles on his skin and lips twisting in a small smile that was meant to tranquilize him. You sensed it wasn’t the right time to talk ─ as you could see in his embarrassed and regretful eyes ─, so you waited patiently for him to say something, giving him enough time to think about whatever was going on inside his head. He let out a heavy sigh, sitting down across you and taking your hand into his, holding it gently as he stared straight into your eyes with a tiredness you never saw before.

    “I’m sorry” He huffed, hold tightening just a little bit as if to say that he meant it “I shouldn’t have yelled at you like this” You couldn’t help but fight back a smile, finding it amusing how he was so apologetic about something that made you feel so at ease. You shook your head ─ a slow motion that was meant to conceive how untroubled you were about his behavior ─ before smiling at him, dismissing the idea that you were somewhat offended by anything he said “I’m just really tired…” He sighed, rubbing his face in distress.

    “Why? What happened?” You asked softly, and he scoffed before looking away in disbelief. As you stared at his profile, you noticed the dark circles under his eyes but you choose not to comment on it “Do you need my keys?” You offered, tilting your head as you tried to read his expression but getting nothing out of it.

    “Are you really going to ignore why I’m here?” He asked grudgingly, returning his eyes to you “Y/N… I thought you loved him” He admitted “I really did… I…” He chuckled bitterly, pinching his nose bridge before sighing one more time “I spent all night long watching ‘My Best Friend’s Wedding’ and seeing Hyunjin crying and eating everything he could find in his way” He confessed, and the picture was somewhat funny and yet depressing.

    You didn’t answer him; there was nothing to say.

    “If I’m gonna be honest with you… I thought you guys were meant for each other” He scoffed “I thought you loved him as he loves you… I thought you guys shared so many struggles that you could heal one another… I thought…” He hesitated, letting his shoulders drop as he lowered his gaze to his lap “I thought you would say yes, Y/N…” He confessed, clearly disappointed at you.

    He let the silence hang in the air, expecting you to say something.

    You didn’t.

    “Nothing?” He sighed “Really?” He raised his gaze to meet yours.

    “I don’t know what you want from me, Chan” You tried your best to let your tone unwavering but you failed, and you knew it. You noticed how his eyes twinkled, picking up on your oddness “What do you want me to do?” You asked obnoxiously, scoffing as you looked away “Lie to him?” You felt your lips twitching slightly; the lie tasting too bitter for you to keep a straight face.

    “Haven’t you done that already?” He asked knowingly; voice softening as he seemed to figure out everything “Y/N…” He smiled kindly; the corner of his lips sinking just enough to show his dimples as he played with your fingers “Why are you lying to yourself?” He didn’t sound judgingly but gentle, trying to look into your eyes but failing as you avoided his gaze for dear life “You love him” He stated matter-of-factly, chuckling in relief.

    “No, I don’t,” You scoffed, still refusing to meet his eyes.

    “So what is this for?” He asked, hand going to your face.

    You allowed him to lift your chin and guide you to look at him, shivering as his finger slid from there to the corner of your eyes. You knew far too well what he was going to find there. You pursed your lips as firm as you could, trying to hold back everything that you wanted to pour out of your chest. He caressed your skin gently, and you could feel the faint watery sensation there as he let go of your face to show you his finger; a single drop balanced in there.

    You closed your eyes, refusing to acknowledge it.

    He chose to stay silent, waiting for you to be comfortable enough to say something. Anything. The way your entire face twitched and spasmed ─ especially your jaw that seemed settled in quivering nonstop ─ brought the realization that it was too late. You couldn’t fight back your tears anymore. You threw your face back, opening your eyes in a vain attempt to allow the soft wind to dry your tears away but it didn’t. The way you clenched your jaw and tensioned your throat did nothing but bring you pain before you finally let everything out, bursting into tears.

    “Why are you doing this to me?” You howled, choking on your own feelings as you threw Chan a look that was meant to be a glare but turned out to be more of a cry for help “I don’t want to talk about it… I don’t want to feel it, Chan!” Both of your hands shot to your eyes, pressing them firmly to try and hold back the tears “I don’t want to love him!” You cried, shaking your head repeatedly “I don’t want to!” You insisted, voice stressing in a pained mewl.

    “But he loves you, Y/N” He pointed out carefully, placing his hand on your head to stroke your hair gently “He really does” He reassured you, body sliding on the grass ─ the soft sound giving him away ─ to get a place beside you. He let his hand trail down to your back before sneaking to your shoulder and trying to pull you closer to him but you didn’t give in to his touch “There is no need for you to run away… He’s already yours” He hunched his back to try and take a look at your face but you still had your hands over your eyes “Why not take this chance?” He tried again, and this time it was too much for you.

  “Because I’m a coward, Chan!” You snapped, removing your hands from your eyes and glaring at him “Because I’m a fucking coward that can’t face my own feelings!” You cried, connecting your eyes to his even though you couldn’t clearly see him “Is that what you want me to say?!” You let the corner of your lips quiver, knitting your eyebrows together “Do you want to hear that I won’t ever have someone to love because I’ll keep running away from it?!” You choked, overwhelmed by everything that crashed over your feelings.

    You threw your head back, feeling the tears streaming down your face.

    “Do you want to hear that no matter how much I run, I always end up in the same place?!” You scoffed ─ almost a whimper as your throat tightened by the second ─ before returning your eyes to him “No matter how much I run, Chan… I run and run and run and run… And I always…” You took a deep breath, air wavering to get into your lungs “Always” You emphasized, averting your eyes from him “End up alone, Chan” You muttered, hugging yourself as you lower your gaze.

    “Y/N…” He whispered, shocked by everything you spilled on him.

    “I don’t want to be alone, Chan” You howled, throwing your arms around him as you shoved your face on the crook of his neck, letting your tears soak his shirt. He wrapped you up in his arms, rubbing gentle circles on your back as he let his lips graze over your strands “Just don’t leave me alone…” You pleaded in a choked way that prompted him to shush you.

    “Never…” He promised quietly “I would never”

                                                           ////

    How exactly did you end up in this situation?

    You cut the beef on your plate awkwardly as you avoided looking him in the eyes, the scratching cringe noise making you shrink and grimace as you fixed your gaze on the fork and the knife in your hands. Now that you thought about it, maybe you should have weighted your options a little bit more… Wisely. It was too late for that, though, as Han sighed before dropping his cutlery in his plate, raising his eyes to stare at you uncomfortably.

    “Lemme see if I got this right…” He said, covering his mouth and muffling his voice as he tried to manage swallowing down his food and talking at the same time “You’re asking me advice about your relationship with Hyunjin?” He stressed out the word love, throwing you a skeptical look “Because I hate him” He added in confusion, frowning at you.

    “Yeah…” You cleared your throat, refusing to look in his eyes “Pretty much yeah” You risked a glance at him, bringing the food to your mouth as you tried to buy some time. He stared at you fixedly; head slightly tilted down, which made him look judging and attentive as you munched your food. It went down your throat as gently as a rock, prompting you to cough “I mean… Is tha such a weird thing?” You shrugged but the answer was quite obvious.

    Yes.

    “Kinda” He chuckled, arching his eyebrow funnily “I mean… You stumble over me on the way to have lunch” He raised his index finger in a counting motion “You comment on how Hyunjin missed today’s classes and how Paris saw him wandering around and went after him, leaving you alone” He pulled the second finger “You have puffed eyes and dark circles and look like literal shit” He pulled the third finger, and you couldn’t help but to chortle.

    “Oh, Thank you!” You chirped mockingly, lifting your head so you could fully stare at him, “Such a nice thing to say” You pointed out playfully, getting him to pale and deadpan at you for a second. You could almost hear his system rebooting but it didn’t prevent you from laughing at his face “I’m just kidding” You decided to take pity on him.

    “That was totally not what I meant!” He reassured you eagerly; system finally back and eyes settling for desperation “You’re beautiful as fuck, I swear!” He rushed to say, frowning at his own words “No! I mean… Not like beautiful in a flirting way, you know? Just like beautiful as… As in beauty and... Hm…” He rambled, seeming embarrassed as he trailed off and stared at your grin “You know what? You can do the talking” He sighed, holding his cutlery again and shoving food in his mouth.

    “I think the saddest part is that you’re still being awkward as fuck around me” You mentioned, leaning back on your chair as you tilted your head and looked at him teasingly “The bright side is that you always were kinda weird anyway” You joked, prompting him to lightly kick you under the table and making you laugh.

    “Ha-Ha! You’re hilarious” He rolled his eyes, shaking his head in disbelief “Pardon me for not wanting to make it more awkward than it already is” He grumbled; mouth making soundless complaints as he took another bite at his food “I mean─ I literally confessed to your all sweaty and smelly and mouth full of sauce… God, that was terrible” He cringed, hand going to hide his face “And then I go all–” He scoffed, taking his hands away from his face “You’re so beautiful” He spoke in a silly low tone, mocking himself.

    “If it makes you feel any better this is the first time that I genuinely laugh in three days” You offered him, face twisted in a playful frown “Also… You weren’t that smelly and sweaty… You didn’t practice hard enough that day, I think” You taunted, and he snorted before looking to the ceiling and huff.

    “Okay… So first: No, it doesn’t make me happy” He knitted his eyebrows together, throwing you an inquiring look “You literally just said you’ve been sad for three days” He pointed out, eyes widening slightly to emphasize his sentence “And two: Coach practically shoved that ball up in my ass! How can you say that?!” He whined, grimacing grudgingly at you.

    You laughed at that ─ like wholeheartedly laughed at that ─, and for a second you actually believed that your attempt to brush aside your feelings was working out. Silly you. It struck you again ─ just like a truck ─ and your laughter died in your throat little by little until the twinkle in your eyes vanished like the flame of a blown candle. Something about it must have caught his attention because Han mimicked your expression, staring fixedly at your face as he waited for you to voice out your thoughts.

     You didn’t.

    “Everything fine?” He asked concerned as you didn’t offer anything back. Hell no… No, it’s not fine. You could never voice it out loud, though, even if it was the truth, “What’s with that face?” He risked, arching his brows to invite you to answer his question.

    “Got it when I was born” You tried to joke it off.

    “I see your jokes didn’t get any better” He taunted; a playful tone trying to mask the worry you could see in his eyes. He cleared his throat before reaching out for you; hand slowly slinking its way to lay on top of yours in a reassuring motion. The situation itself made you fight back a smile, and you found it somewhat cute the way he tried to push aside his shyness to make sure you were okay.

    “Tough crowd” You smirked at him, and as much as he rolled his eyes playfully, you knew he wasn’t buying your cunningness. Wasn’t the fact that you could deceive neither of you kinda funny? You sighed heavily as you lowered your eyes, knowing that pretending there was nothing going on inside your head wouldn’t get you anywhere “Hyunjin confessed to me” You admitted dejectedly, peeking at him to see his reaction.

    Contrary to what you expected, Han didn’t seem surprised or enraged at all, deadpanning at your statement for a few seconds before clearing his throat again and lowering his gaze. He didn’t say anything for a while, diving deep into his thoughts and pursing his lips as his eyes changed from time to time. Maybe you shouldn’t discuss your love life with a friend that confessed to you not that long ago… But now was a little bit too late for that.

      Were you capable of doing something right at this point? You didn’t think so. You sighed heavily as you studied his features, wondering how could you have put so much unnecessary stuff on everybody’s shoulders in so little time. To be fair, you had a lot on your plate right now… It didn’t mean you had the right to fill someone else’s cup, though. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, ready to push the subject aside and move on to any other thing but Han beat you to it.

    “So you love him?” Han’s tone wasn’t really loud but it startled you just like he had shouted right to your ears and then hit you in the face. You didn’t even answer him, mouth closing shut and eyes staring at him blankly for a few seconds as your system seemed to reboot “You wouldn’t tell me he confessed to you if you weren’t interested…” He mused, narrowing his eyes at your reaction “But you rejected him” He assumed wisely, stating it in a matter-of-factly way that made you wonder when did he start to actually be able to figure out what was going through your head.

     There was no way of taking it back now.

    “Love is a strong word” You mumbled, averting your eyes from him and fixing it on your plate again; fork poking the food and scrambling things all over. Well… As people say: You are what you eat. You grimaced bitterly at the sight, grossed out at the mixture you did yourself and dropping your fork with a clink before swallowing down the lump on your throat.

    “Yeah… It is quite strong” He agreed softly, almost sounding mindlessly before he squeezed your hand once to invite you to look at him “But is it the right word?” He questioned solemnly, and you could only be thankful for not giving in to his squeeze and refusing to meet his eyes, or else he would have seen things you didn’t want to show to anyone.

    Things you were trying to hide from yourself.

    The truth was that the rollercoaster of emotions you had experienced through Wednesday and Thursday brought you a realization: There was no way to fight those feelings away. Well… If you were really being honest with yourself there might be a way but you just didn’t have enough willpower to succeed in it. If you had feelings for him but you didn’t want to and you couldn’t fight them away, there was just one other option available for you… Ignore them.

    Initially, you felt guilty for trying to fight away your feelings. Especially with how harsh you were about it while rejecting Hyunjin. Although you weren’t rude, you weren’t gentle as well… You were raw, to say the very least. You knew how much it meant for him to face his fears and voice his feelings out loud. You knew hard it must have been for him to say that he loved you and wanted to be with you even though he was terrified of bonding. Now, you couldn’t feel guilty at all.

    Now, you couldn’t help but think that you should feel proud of what you were doing. So what If you were running away from your feelings? So what if you were scared to handle this maturely? So what if you didn’t want to risk your mental health for him? You weren’t meant to do this. It wasn’t your job to take. You shouldn’t feel sorry for protecting yourself from the instability that was bound to come from this relationship.

     You shouldn’t feel sorry for running away again.

    It didn’t matter how many times you chanted it to yourself, you couldn’t help but feel guilty anyway. In retrospect, you couldn’t remember a time when you managed to overcome your feelings… You couldn’t point out one time that you didn’t give up and decided to run away… You couldn’t point out one time that you fought for dear life for something you wanted. And it destroyed you. You couldn’t help but run away from your problems and every single time you did it, nothing was resolved.

    Your father? You watched as he walked away from your life and you did nothing about it. You let him abandon you and your mother and when he came back ─ as if nothing had happened ─, you let him walk into your mother’s life just so you could follow your own path. Your mother? You left her behind just like your father; ran away from all the problems she got you and herself into and didn’t even look behind. You let her with the one man you could never trust for the rest of your life and pretended you weren’t as bad as him in the most hypocritical way you could ever have done. Hyunjin? You rejected him as if you didn’t love him as much as he loves you… You settled on finding a reason why you shouldn’t love him back and held on to it for dear life.

    Maybe, if you could convince yourself he wasn’t good enough for you, then you could finally let him go. Maybe, if you ignore your feelings like you had been doing throughout all your life, you would eventually grow used to it. Just like, eventually, the pain of being left behind was manageable enough. Just like, eventually, the disgust of acting like your father was manageable enough. Just like, eventually, the façade that you weren’t just like him was manageable to maintain. Just like, eventually, you would be capable to manage to not feel affected by your feelings for him.

    You didn’t need to fight it because, eventually, it wouldn’t even affect you anymore. You didn’t need to be a fighter ─ to be fair, you weren’t really a good one ─, you just needed to be a good runner. And that you could do for dear life. You were a hella of a runner and if you needed you would be the best of them all. You would run away from your feelings for dear life. You would proudly and actively pretend that not seeing him in the morning didn’t affect you. You would convince yourself that knowing he couldn’t even bear to go to the same classes as you didn’t affect you.

     You would convince yourself that this was your best choice.                        

    You would convince yourself that the tight feeling in your chest meant nothing but an overattachment that you would be able to manage eventually. You would convince yourself that the fact that you kept turning your back to people didn’t affect you… That you weren’t afraid of being abandoned again… That you weren’t afraid of not being enough… That you weren’t afraid of being crazy just like your mother… That you weren’t afraid of being untrustworthy just like your father… That you weren’t afraid of running over and over and over–

     “Hm… Y/N?” Han called you unsurely, trying to catch your attention by waving his hand right in front of your face “You’re still with me?” He asked jokingly; a vain attempt to lighten up your mood. You blinked a few times, trying to regain consciousness. What were you talking about before? You didn’t even remember anymore “So… Do you love him?’ He cleared his throat, searching for your eyes.

    “What I feel doesn’t really matter” You dismissed his question, though your answer made it quite obvious “What matters is that I don’t think he’s the right person for me” You lied but the scoff you got as an answer was a good indication that Han wasn’t buying it at all “And Paris and Chan don’t seem to share my vision… And I was wondering if…” You glanced at him unsurely “You know?” You grimaced sheepishly.

    “You were wondering if I wasn’t up to badmouth him since I hate the dude” He completed for you, arching his brow amusedly “You want me to say that he’s a fuckboy and there is no way that he loves you for real and you shouldn’t fall for his charms, right?” He licked his lips, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back in his chair “You want me to say that he’ll cheat on you and hurt you because he’s a huge piece of shit” He added, and you felt your throat itching to refute him, and yet you urged to believe in it.

    “Yeah… Kinda” You nodded, getting a chuckle as an answer.

    “This can never get out of here…” He muttered, moving forward to lean on the table as he cupped his mouth to mockingly pretend to tell you a secret “And I mean never” He emphasized; eyes glinting in amusement. You nodded, confused as to why he was acting so lighthearted to the fact that you just implied you loved Hyunjin and needed reassurance that not acting on it was the right choice.

    “Just spill it” You rushed him, frowning in confusion.

    “I don’t think I can give you what you need” He admitted, and to say that you were flabbergasted would be an understatement. You gawked at him, surprised to see him shrugging his shoulders as he returned to his seat “I know I tried to meddle a lot in your love life… And I know I said he just wanted to get into yours and Paris’ pants that day” He coughed to hide his embarrassment, eyes darting around before fixing on you again “But the truth is that… He did a lot for you guys” He said grudgingly.

   There was no fucking way.

    “You’re kidding me, right?” You scoffed “What happened to your attitude?! You hated him!” You scowled; the rage suddenly building up. What were you going to do now?! You were counting on it! You needed to hear someone supporting your decisions! “Now what?! The fact that he fucked the whole campus doesn’t matter anymore?! The fact that he’s always pissing you off?! The fact that he’s annoying to the point of being obnoxious?!” You slammed the table, though it wasn’t strong enough to catch anyone’s attention.

      “I don’t believe I’ll have to say it…” He sighed; the grimace that narrowed his eyes ─ as well as the whining and ridiculous whimpering ─ showing that he wasn’t happy to say what he was about to say “So what about the fact that he went way out of his way to help Paris?” He scowled as he defended him “Or the fact that you’re constantly defending him when I roast him?” He added, eyebrows moving to emphasize his point “Or the fact that both of you always seem comfortable around him even though he’s a dick? Or the fact that you literally let him kiss you on the stairs?” He pursed his lips judgingly, and you couldn’t help but feel your face burning at that.

    “It was a fake kiss!” You retorted eagerly “And what about the fact that you were always dismissing all those arguments?! What about the fact that I don’t want to hear his good points but his bad ones?! What about the fact that I’m freaking the hell out here?!” You yelled, getting up from your chair and placing your hands on the table to look more threatening “You were supposed to tell me that he sucks, Han” You whined “I need you to help me hate the idea of being with him” You sighed tiredly, returning to your seat.

    “No, Y/N…” He offered you a small smile, reaching for your hands once again “You need to face your emotions” He said softly, rubbing circles on your skin “You were the one to encourage me to tell my father my real thoughts… My dreams…” He sounded grateful, and you couldn’t help but stare deeply into his eyes “I was afraid too, you know? I was afraid I would disappoint him… I was afraid… Well, it doesn’t matter” He chuckled, shrugging “The point is that you’re afraid of your feelings… You’re afraid of being hurt” He moved his hand to your cheek, cupping it gently.

    You lowered your gaze, unable to look him in the eyes right now.

    “And it’s normal” He reassured you “But to be honest with you… I don’t think you would be like this if you didn’t believe he loved you back” He admitted, prompting you to nod softly “You would just know that you couldn’t give in to your feelings and be firm about it… I was on the other side once, I should know it” He laughed, making you cringe for a second “If you love him and you really think he loves you back… I mean… Someone who comes to his enemy to ask for help for a friend couldn’t be that bad, hm?” He offered you, and this time you looked at him again, catching the disgust in his features.

    “Who would think that you would come to like him one day” You joked, chuckling as he scrunched his nose and retreated his hands from you, shaking his head eagerly to dismiss the thought.

    “Not a word about it to him!” He said threateningly, narrowing his eyes at you “If he comes even close to knowing that I don’t hate him that much now, I’ll make your life a living hell!” He grumbled, making you laugh wholeheartedly.

    “You know what?” You rested your cheek on your hand, leaning on the table “I think you deserve a hot dog tonight” You offered him, a grateful smile on your face “Really… Thank you for saying that” You sighed “I think… I mean… I knew it was the right choice but…” You cleared your throat “You inspire me to be bolder, Han” You cringed, hiding your face behind your hand “God! I’m so cheesy and emotional nowadays” You grimaced, making a gagging sound as you let your index go into your mouth jokingly.

    So maybe you were freaking out about your emotions… Maybe you were too afraid of being hurt and hurting him… Maybe you were terrified of not being enough for someone you loved so much. Again. Maybe you were terrified of not being able to support him… Maybe you were just too afraid to allow yourself to fully express your feelings for him… But that was why you were in therapy.

    You would learn how to deal with your struggles…

    Eventually, you wouldn’t be so afraid anymore…

    Eventually, you would learn to manage it.

[ahundredtimesover]

I Would’ve Stayed (FNTO 4)

Any mess we had to deal with was way more worth it than any clarity without you. 

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: strangers to friends to lovers, popstar/idol!jk, fluff, angst, smut; this is a dialogue-heavy series so read if you’re into that! 

Warnings: foul language, heavy drinking, lots of kissing, penetrative and oral sex (not too explicit; a condom is thrown in there somewhere but bbs please be safe! and also, I tried) (18+)

Word count: ~8,000

Series summary: You meet pop star/idol Jeon Jungkook at the cafe, you get close, and as Hyejin says, you’re like friends with benefits without the sex. But you’re bad at feelings and so is he.

series masterlist

A/N: Here it is! OC hates confrontation so guess what happens - that! Listen to Yours by Raiden x Chanyeol ft. LeeHi & Changmo and Moon, 12:04 AM by Offonoff.

#

It’s been 3 days and Jungkook still hasn’t reached out. 

You would have, but somehow that time he completely ignored you for a whole week before he left still plays in your head and has made you quite traumatized, if you’re being honest. 

Add to that, you recall how you both left things that day. You don’t know how he was doing in the 2 months he was away. Maybe he just got ahead of himself and realized he didn’t really feel that way about you, maybe he’s still angry. Maybe, and this scares you the most, he realized he’s better off and doesn’t want anything to do with you anymore - too much crazy, you think.

None of the guys have reached out to you too since they’ve arrived aside from Jimin’s message, perhaps too sorry to even say anything. 

You’ve followed the same routine you’ve had the past 2 months - cafe check-in before and after your actual job, weekends for exercise and chores and whatever work you can sneak in, and Saturday nights with your friends. You even volunteered to babysit your cousin’s kids for 2 weekends and accompanied Jaehyun to the orphanage for the bi-annual party he throws for the kids just to keep yourself preoccupied. 

It feels so different without Jungkook. Even when he was away then, you were always video calling for at least a minute, and sending each other funny videos or memes to keep the connection, that string that neither of you wanted to break. How you both managed without each other these past months is surprising, but that's just made it clear to you, more than anything else, that you truly want him to be part of your life, and you, in his, in whatever way he’d have you.

But his radio silence is once again driving you insane. You keep typing then deleting whatever message you thought to send him. 

You: Hey, I heard you’re back. How was the tour?

You: Hi, Kook. I’m so sorry again. I was wondering if we could catch up?

You: Omg help, my neighbor got another cat! 

You: Can’t wait for the final concert! Excited to watch you guys.

But nope, you’d deleted them as fast as you’d typed them. You know you were at fault somehow; you’ve accepted that you could’ve done something like talk to him at the first sign of a problem, but you always hated confrontations and you weren’t sure if you were ready for that with him. 

More than anything, though, you want him to be the one to reach out this time. Not just because he said those hurtful things to you before he left, but also because you want to know if he still feels whatever it was he said he feels - or felt - for you before he left. 

You let your mind make up reasons. Maybe he’s still tired. Maybe he’s still catching up on sleep and isn’t in his right mind yet to talk to you. Maybe they got caught up with more work when they got back. All these maybes are sending you in a whirlwind of emotions again, and you’re trying so badly to get out of your head and just settle things once and for all.

#

It’s finally Friday and you’re zoning out at work before your phone’s incessant ringing breaks through your thoughts. 

Jieun is on the other line, convincing you to go to The Third tonight because a DJ friend of hers is spinning. She misses you, she says. You don’t have the heart to tell her that you don’t feel like going out and being around people, but she pleads. The guys will be there too, she excitedly shares. She charmed her way into having them accept her invite after they’d met up at a dinner party earlier in the week.

“Dinner party?” You ask. 

“Yeah, remember Yoonah? I wrote some music for her. She had a birthday party last Tuesday,” Jieun innocently says. 

Of course you remember. She’s one of the pop stars that Jungkook has been linked with countless times. He never dismisses it though when you’d ask. He just always says they’re close and enjoy spending time together when they can.

You feel your heart break a little, thinking of what his appearance at her birthday party could mean. You’d done yourself a favor and stayed away from social media so you don’t know if there are new pictures of them circulating in the web. 

But you do like to torture yourself. As Jieun went on about her schedule for the rest of her stay, you checked online for any photos of the two to ease - or worsen - your panicking brain and speeding heart. 

Yep, there they are. Some public photos of them laughing at the party, Yoonah so stunning in her red dress and Jungkook looking incredibly gorgeous in his dark blue suit. You scroll further down to look at the same photos and people screaming at how good they look together and wait, are those photos outside of a cafe? 

Eyes wide, your heart quickens even more as you type “Jungkook Yoonah cafe” on the search bar because really, you’d been torturing yourself these past months too, why stop now?

They seem like unofficial photos, judging from the quality, but you can’t be mistaken that it’s him - you know that sweatshirt because it’s yours; the few clear photos show the clay mark on the left side of the clothing that you haven’t been able to remove. What kind of jerk wears another girl’s clothes when he’s out on a date with another?

You’re fuming. So much for making excuses on his behalf that he’s tired or busy. Well, he was busy, alright. You saw in the news that Yoonah was in the U.S. too for some photo shoots; some tweets were saying she was at one of the shows. Guess Jungkook was preoccupied in those 2 months too, you think to yourself. 

“Y/N, you in there?” Jieun asks on the other end.

“Yeah, yeah sorry. What were you saying?”

“I said a lot… but I just wanted to know if you’re game for tonight?” She asks, excitement laced in her voice. It has been awhile since you’ve gone out to party with her anyway.

“Sure, I’ll be there.” You force the excitement out of you.

“Great! Tell your friends. Can’t wait to see you!” She hangs up, and you’re still fuming.

Fuck to feeling sorry for yourself. Fuck to being a responsible adult. And fuck to saying no to hook-ups. You were never one for drinking her problems away and finding a temporary fix in another’s body and the pleasure they could give but that’s exactly what you’re gonna do tonight. 

Jungkook has made you do and feel things you’d never done or felt before anyway, and you aren’t gonna stop now.

You wait until 6PM before heading home and fixing up. You and your friends go to a nice restaurant for dinner, a change of scenery from your usual Saturday night take outs, before finally heading to The Third for a night you hopefully won’t regret.

#

You and your friends arrive at the bar at 10PM, Jaehyun the designated caretaker of everybody (more like of you, though, since you’re the only one with a plan). 

You do the mandatory socializing, especially with Jiuen, and before you know it, you’re on your 5th shot of tequila, sips of other people’s beer or cocktail in between, and suddenly, a hand is pulling at yours and an unfamiliar voice is asking you to dance. 

He’s funny and has well-manicured and soft hands. You can’t tell the color of his eyes or the shape of his nose or if he has plump or thin or chapped lips. He seems to have nice hair, though.

He says he’s a little awkward but he was beside you at the bar and heard you laughing and thought it was the nicest sounding laugh he’s ever heard. He apologizes for sounding sappy and a creep, but he thought he could at least ask you to dance, confident in at least that since he used to dance in college. 

He asks if he could put his hand on your waist and you consent. There were no red flags, and you’d seen your friends give you a thumbs up to indicate they’re looking out for you in case something unsuspecting happens.

Something unsuspecting happens, alright. One minute the man’s hand is on your waist, fingers gripping you a little tighter as the song transitions to the next one, and another it’s gone. You turn around to make sure he’s still there but lo and behold, there stands the man you’ve been trying to get your mind off, hand on the other man’s wrist, and a glare that could cut through stone. 

“I’ve got her,” the man says, voice cold and stern, it gave you chills. 

It takes a while before it registers. Hair parted at the middle, black polo, black leather jacket. Even under these party lights he still looks breathtaking. You scowl at Jungkook. 

“What the fuck, Jeon. I was dancing with Ye-jun!”

“It’s, uh, Yu-jun,” you hear the man say. Was he now stuttering? 

“You’re drunk,” Jungkook responds, tone steady, head now turned to you.

“So? I’ve been drunk many times before. It’s nothing new,” you snap back.

“Yes, but you don’t do this,” he says, voice calm and patient.

“And what’s this? Enjoy myself? Find a man to dance with, to go home with? Maybe to hook up with?” You bite back, arms crossed, a little less drunk now that you feel anger consume you. You don’t see the surprised but intrigued look of the man staring at you, but Jungkook does and it takes all of him not to smack the guy’s face right then and there.

But really, how dare he? He ghosts you again and now he decides to show up and crash your little dance party? 

Jungkook lets out a low grunt. He turns to the man, jaw clenched, eyes piercing. “Seriously, I’ve got this. You can leave us now.” He continues to stare at the man who knows he’s got nothing on Jungkook.

“Well fuck me,” the man says and walks away. 

Jungkook grabs your wrist to take you to the bar, forcing you to drink 2 glasses of water. 

“What the hell was that?” You shout. Jungkook eyes the bartender, as if to tell him to give both of you as much privacy as he can in a venue like this. 

“You’re drunk and the guy was trying it with you,” he says, matter-of-factly. 

“He actually had the decency to ask if he could put his hand on my waist, seeing that I was drunk!” You shout back. 

He rests his right arm on the bar and looks at you blankly. “You’re still drunk and he’s still a stranger.”

At this, you completely lose it. “And you aren’t? What are you now, my friend? My fuck buddy I don’t fuck? My almost lover? The guy I can never have? The guy who’s too afraid to have me?”

You eye the bartender nearby preparing 2 shots of tequila. You walk the short distance towards him and down both shots, one after the other. “Make him pay for them,” you shout to the man, pointing to Jungkook, and you walk away. 

Seven shots of tequila in and you’re quite the mess, physically and emotionally. Why you think it felt cathartic to down those shots is beyond you; now your head is spinning and your feet feel like death. 

You see the light at the end of the tunnel, an empty chair a few steps away. You make it, thankfully, without much fanfare. You look around for your friends but it’s all dancing silhouettes and unfamiliar faces. The lights are now blinding and suddenly it feels stuffy that it’s hard to breathe. You drag your arms to the table and drop your head onto them, slowly succumbing to sleep.

A voice wakes you, repeating your name countless times until you start to resent it. You lazily look up to find Jungkook, crouching down to level with you, holding a plate of chocolate cake and a pitcher of water. 

You look at what he’s holding before your glossy eyes rest at his face. He sighs, puts the pitcher on the table, and proceeds to take the fork and feed you with bites of the cake. 

You drink water in between, and after 3 mouthfuls, you look up at him and flash your teeth, as if to ask if there’s some chocolate leftovers on them. He lets out a short laugh and removes a crumb hanging on the corner of your lips. “All good,” he says. 

“Take me home, Jungkook.” You plead. “Please take me home.”

#

Jungkook doesn’t know why he suddenly got scared. He’d made up his mind that he would message you when they’d landed, drive to your place to see you, and talk things out the next day, but his mind had other plans. 

He got so caught up at the thought that he’s finally home, finally breathing the same air as you, that you were just 30 minutes away from him - so near yet so far - that he’d zoned out and completely forgotten to message you. He was so anxious about finally talking to you that he’d ended up falling asleep at 5AM and slept through the rest of Monday afternoon.

They had a scheduled meeting on Tuesday and had Yoonah’s dinner party that night, and he had wanted to message and see you on the same day because he was that impatient. 

The dinner party wasn’t a big event, but photos from her agencies were soon released that obviously included Jungkook and Yoonah laughing and talking. He knew what was about to happen next. What he didn’t expect was Yoonah’s pleas that night to go out the next day for their routine stunt that they’d do every once in a while. 

Jungkook and Yoonah went to the same middle school and high school in Seoul, both trying to balance education with their responsibilities in their respective idol groups. They ended up being close and confiding in each other, but never went the dating route. They were both so young then and happiness, at that time, equated to success in their field. It’s later on that they’d come to realize how lonely that would feel. 

Jungkook had his hyungs and felt content; Yoonah, who eventually went solo, felt the loneliness eat her up. She’d been dating a friend from her childhood and she knew the only way they could stay together is if their relationship was kept a secret. 

She’d enlisted the help of Jungkook who’d willingly agreed to be her decoy when needed - anytime the media or even fans would catch wind of Yoonah’s relationship, it was automatic for the pair to be seen going out. They never admitted nor denied the rumors. It was enough to throw the scent off the real man she was dating. 

He agreed that Wednesday for a quick lunch out at a cafe. No need for overkill, they agreed. As long as they’re seen together, that should be enough. Jungkook didn’t have the heart to turn her down and instead, kept mum about his own relationship trials with you. He knew that whatever photos that fans would take would be all over social media, and he could only hope you stayed away from it long enough until the issue died down. 

This was another dent in his plan and he had to regroup. Another day has passed and he still hasn’t reached out to you. He was beginning to think it was a stupid idea to wait it out in the first place. 

He entered the bar that Friday night, half sure that he was going to see you. Jieun has been away a while and would definitely want you there. 

It didn’t take long for him to spot you. He was half expecting you’d be dancing with your friends or laughing about in one of the tables. 

He didn’t expect you to be dancing so closely to another man, his hand on your waist, his mouth so dangerously close to your ears. You looked like you were having fun, what with your half-lidded eyes and teeth constantly biting on your bottom lip. He’d never seen that look on you before, and it scared the shit out of him. 

He saw your friends who confirmed the man is someone you’d just met and that you’d gone on about getting shit-faced drunk and hooking up with someone because “Jungkook’s being a jerk right now.” 

“Please grow up, you two, and talk things out,” Chaewon shouted at him, tired and exasperated in dealing with your whiny ass, before she stormed off to shout at her boyfriend. Jaehyun went on about their lover’s quarrel, and Hyejin had discovered the allure and deceit of cranberry vodka and had been puking her guts out in the washroom. 

“Please look out for her,” Jaehyun told Jungkook. What your friends didn’t tell him is why you’re acting this way. Was it the radio silence? The photos you might’ve seen? Or both? 

That’s when Jungkook proceeded to shoo the man away. Of course you wouldn’t go without a fight. From the dance floor to the bar, you had a go at it. He deserved all that, he was sure, even if he was angry at the situation as well. 

It took another pep talk from his hyungs - who were watching you from afar, as you laid your head on the table, and making sure no one would try with you again - convincing him to swallow his pride and just talk to you. 

He hated seeing you like this, moreso since it’s the first time in 2 months he’s seeing you, and considering how things have been during the time you two were apart.

The sweets and water combo always works. Two washroom trips later, you were on the passenger seat of his car, fetus-laden and drifting in and out of sleep. 

Jungkook is frustrated. How bad had things gotten that you were willing to hook up with some stranger at the bar? What were you thinking? Why didn’t you reach out this time? He was just making excuses again but regardless, he looks at you, a snort escaping your mouth as you catch yourself snoring, and thinks you’re still the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.

#

You wake up underneath two thick blankets and a mountain of pillows surrounding you. 

Clawing out of your fort-like surrounding, you see a glass of water and aspirin on your bedside table. You sigh and try to recall the night before. 

You were lucid at some parts. You recall the guy with the soft hands, both of you dancing so close together, his whispers of sweet nothings on your ear. You remember a bit about your little outburst at Jungkook at the bar, the chocolate cake, vomiting your insides in the toilet, and climbing to your bed. 

You force your eyes shut, trying to remember more. Your throat hurts, the kind that isn’t just from alcohol. You feel the crusty bits on your eyes, at both corners and on the sides. 

You cried. You were probably shouting too. What the fuck were you going on about last night?

And then it hits you. Jungkook was there. He totally cockblocked you. But he also fed you cake and probably took you home. Now you remember a bit of his calloused hands drawing circles on your back as you tried to puke all the alcohol out of your system. He probably helped you brush your teeth too, you conclude, seeing as your mouth doesn’t feel extra disgusting this morning. 

“What else, what else?” You think aloud. But your mind draws out blank. Knowing yourself though, and the anger and hurt that built up inside you before you stepped foot in that bar, was enough to let you know that you probably gave him shit, for what, you’re not sure. 

You decide it’s time to get the gunk off your body so you get off the bed, pop the aspirin, and head out your room. 

The smell of freshly brewed coffee is what welcomes you as you open the door. 

You stand by the kitchen, looking for signs of the other person with you until you see the blanket on your couch and a familiar-looking black leather jacket lying at its back.

The bathroom door opens, revealing a freshly washed Jungkook, clad in a white shirt and boxers, clothes of his that you know he got from the second drawer on your dresser.

He pauses on his steps and stares at you. “You’re awake,” he says.

“And you’re here,” you reply, a bit of irritation laced in your voice. 

You both stare at each other for a couple more seconds, not sure how to proceed. This is new territory for you. 

Your mornings were never like this. They were always full of lazy greetings, games of rock-paper-scissors on who would get up first to brew coffee, soft singing in the kitchen, laughter. 

“You uh, got drunk,” he starts, hand scratching the back of his neck, which he usually does when he’s nervous or shy.

“You uh, cockblocked me last night,” you deadpanned. 

Jungkook stays put where he is, face faltering a little bit. “Were you really planning on hooking up with that guy?” He asks. 

“I don’t know, maybe,” you say. You were so close, though, even if you knew you wouldn’t. Part of you is thankful that Jungkook made sure that didn’t happen but no, you can’t fall for this so easily. 

He continues to look at you, eyes blinking constantly, teeth biting onto his lower lip, you’re afraid it’d start to bleed. Why is he so nervous? 

“For goodness’ sake, Jungkook! I wanted to hook up with him, or anyone for that matter, because I’m fucking pissed at you! And if you hadn’t noticed, I’ve been doing things I don’t normally do because you’re messing me up!” You shout at him. 

You’re closer to him now, and you can clearly see the flushed look on his face. He can’t focus on you, he’s biting his lip even harder and looking down on his feet. In the silence, you both try to find your own words to express the emotions that have been eating you up inside. 

“I’m…” you start gesticulating, trying to find more words to express all the anger and pain and frustration you’re feeling. 

And then your stomach grumbles, really loud, and it’s the mood killer you didn’t need.

“I’m fucking hungry,” you whimper, head falling on your hands as you make that sound of a cry that borders on a laugh. You look and sound utterly ridiculous right now. You’re losing your resolve, and you’re slowly cracking in front of the man you’re angry at.

Jungkook suppresses a small laugh. “I hate you,” you say, your tone not matching your words. 

“You said that last night too,” he says, looking up at you. 

“I probably meant it. I still do,” you respond, meeting his eyes. 

“I know. But I said last night we’ll talk about it today. That shut you up.”

You laugh to yourself, imagining how you probably looked, drunkenly shouting at him last night. You tell yourself you’ve got to face this now, no more excuses.

“Good, because we’ve got months’ worth of shit to talk about,” you say, as you head for the bathroom.

“Bacon or sausage?” He calls out before you close the door. “Bacon!” You respond immediately.

#

Jungkook puts his utensils down and stops eating. 

“I’m not gonna lie, Y/N, you’re scaring the shit out of me.” 

You continue to glare at him, as if to say that making you breakfast doesn’t mean he’s off the hook.

“Seriously, your nose is flaring, you’re looking at me like you want to rip me into pieces…” he peers at your hands, knuckles white at how hard you’re gripping the fork and knife. “You look like you want to stab me for real this time…” he trails. 

You grit your teeth and scowl at him. If looks could kill he’d be dead by now. He responds with a smile, the kind one would have if they want to get out of something.

“You’re not funny,” you deadpan.

“I wasn’t trying to be!” 

You cross your arms, anger still painting your face.

“Okay, Y/N, let’s calm down and talk this out like mature individuals,” he continues, arms up as if he’s trying to tame an animal. This pisses you off even more. 

You feel tears form in the corner of your eyes out of anger. “Yes, because ghosting me the second time around is soooo mature,” you shout.

You drop what you’re holding, push your chair backwards, and turn away to walk the very short distance to the living room. You let out a loud groan.

He runs to you, now even more worried than before. He stops in his tracks when he sees your shoulders start to shake. He’s really outdone himself this time, he thinks. What a way to try and “fix” things, he scolds himself.

“I’m sorry, I’m doing this all wrong.” 

“You think?!” You shout, now facing him, tears already trailing down your cheeks. The look on his face, that of sadness, guilt, of regret, pierces through you like a knife, the same way the look of pain and dejection on yours cuts through him, rendering him speechless. He’d never seen you this hurt, this angry, this tired. 

“You ignored me for a whole week. I went to your house to see you but you just…” you exhale. You couldn’t even say the words because just thinking about that day hurts you so much, something you realized you hadn’t really gotten over. The realization and the guilt you felt were enough to ease that pain but the recent radio silence from him only served to resurface those feelings.

“And you come back and what, nothing again from you?” 

Jungkook stares at you, trying to name the emotions written on your face. There’s too much of everything he sees and it causes anger to course through him at what he’s done and what this could mean. So he does what he usually does when he’s hurt and scared - he deflects.

“Why didn’t you call?” He starts, earning him a scoff from you. “I confessed my feelings that day but you didn’t say anything; you just got angry that I was leaving and when I was away, all I got was a text for an apology,” he continues, jaw tight at how he’s trying not to cry. 

You stare at him, wide-eyed. You did greet him on his birthday, but you opted to let him speak.

“I come home after 2 months and I don’t hear from you and I see you at a bar dancing with some guy. What was I supposed to do?” He grits his teeth. He knows he’ll break, he’s just trying to hold out as long as he can.

“You call that confessing? You barely gave me anything that day, Jungkook! We always talked about things but you drop that bomb on me from out of nowhere!” You stomp towards him, motioning him to look at you.

“We had such a good time before that. That trip, that morning… and then you ignore me a whole week and then you leave.”

“I…” Jungkook stammers. He always knew he handled that whole situation terribly. He didn’t give you time, he didn’t give you an option. 

“I torture myself by replaying that weekend because I can’t help but think that might be the last time I’ll ever get to have you like that,” you mewl.

This is when he breaks, he thinks. 

He takes in a long breath.

“I woke up before you that morning and you just looked… so beautiful, so peaceful, and I just wanted to get used to that, you know?” He sighs, forlorn eyes focused on the floor as if he’s watching the scene he’s committed to his mind play out before him. 

“I didn’t think much of it before, just that I wanted to be with you all the time and when I was, I wanted to stay a bit longer, or the night. And when I did I just wanted to sleep next to you and have you close to me until the next morning… and the morning after that. And I just wanted so badly for you to feel the same way.” He covers his face with his hands.

“But you… you thanked me for being a great friend and I guess hearing it like that, confirming that I’m just that to you, broke my heart because right then I thought…” he looks straight at you with his glossy doe eyes and suddenly you forget how to breathe. “I thought that I wanted so much more.”

You blink at him once, twice, a couple more times. He’d only implied he had felt something but this… this isn’t what you were expecting.

“I avoided you because I didn’t know how to talk to you without feeling sad and angry,” he explains.

“You still could’ve said something! You were the one who was being selfish and unfair, not me. You kept that all to yourself and didn’t give me a chance to tell you how I felt.”

He lets out a small laugh, sounding resigned. “You made it clear that day of what I was to you. I mean, with the amount of time we spend together, with how close we are? For fuck’s sake, Y/N, we kiss and sleep next to each other and even after all that, I’m just a friend? What more did we - did I - have to do for it to be more?”

“You could’ve told me, Jungkook. You could’ve told me because I would’ve told you that I felt the same way.”

He looks at you, a pained expression on his face. 

“Then why say that, huh?” he turns away from you, adrenaline rushing through his veins. He should be happy but somehow he’s upset - at himself or you, he’s unsure. “Why do all of those and keep me at a distance like that?”

“Because I didn’t want to feel that way for you! I couldn’t.”

“Why not?

“Because I was scared.”

“Bullshit.” 

“I know it’s a crap excuse for anything but it’s how I felt. Because I knew, long ago, that you’re the one who wouldn’t want anything more. All those PR stunts? The women you’d casually dated? I got your memo, Jungkook. Any feeling or thought I had of us being anything more disintegrated the moment you said that you had too much crazy going on to even deal with relationships… and I let it.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything?”

“This is really how you want to play this, Jungkook? Why didn’t I do this? Why didn’t I say that? I always do, okay? I call, I ask you over, I kiss you, I ask you to stay. And you always do exactly those, just those. Nothing more, never anything more. What would saying it do?”

Jungkook looks defeated. He understands you, more than you think he does.

That night when he’d gone to your apartment after your ex showed up - when he’d ditched drinks with the guys to help Seokjin take his mind off the girl he’d lost because he gave what he only could and it wasn’t enough until someone else could give more - seems to be as vivid to you as it was for him. 

Going to you was reflex for him, especially after he’d heard your sniffles over the phone. Seeing you cry pained him even more. He’d cursed Jinyoung internally multiple times; how someone could be scared of someone as beautiful as you was beyond him. 

That night felt like he saw you for the first time - your strength, your passion for life, your desire to be a better version of yourself. He’d enjoyed your musings about the innate goodness of people and the human’s incredible ability to love, hurt, heal, and love again.  Even your thoughts on  fate and destiny that were contrary to his had caused him to question more, think deeper, live more ardently. 

Beneath those puffy eyes and shivering body, there was no sign of insecurity. You were just so sure of yourself, so free, so unapologetic, and he wanted to bask in your radiance, in your glow; he wanted front-row seats to the unravelling of you.  

And he didn’t feel like he could be enough. Between his responsibilities, his restrictions, his commitments because of his own dreams and the life that he chose, he just knew that he would always fall short and he would lose you. And that frightened him more than anything.

So Jungkook did what he always does when he’s hurt and scared - he deflected. He said there was too much going on in his life - that’s why he can’t try, why he can’t commit, why he can’t want more, because he can’t be more, at least not what he wants to be for you.

He never finished that sentence though, felt like it would be final if he said the words. Looks like you convinced yourself of these thoughts of his for you, he concludes. And he sees it now. He was just as scared as you. Probably still are.

“I would’ve stayed, you know?” You break him out of the internal monologue he’d immersed himself in. 

“I walk away when things don’t work out but I realized that I would have stayed. Whether it was I who felt differently and you didn't, or you did and I didn't… I would’ve stuck around.” You look at him, eyes now devoid of all the anger you were feeling not long ago. 

“I was angry and sad because of you but you were the one I wanted to call about it,” you continue. “God, it felt stupid but that’s when I realized it, you know? I wanted to be with you. Any mess we had to deal with was way more worth it than any clarity without you.”

It’s all Jungkook needs to hear.

He marches over to you, two strides are what it takes until he’s palming your cheeks and softly resting his lips onto yours, waiting, wanting, for you to meet him halfway. 

And you do.

You push yours onto his, tasting those saccharine chapped lips, causing your body to relax at how right this feels. The kiss is gentle, similar to the ones you’ve shared before, but different in what this means, different in what it is trying to say. 

He pulls back and you feel hazy, like you’d just been woken up from a dream right when you were about to get to the good part.

He looks at you so tenderly, like if his eyes could sigh a relief they would. He’s thumbing your cheeks repeatedly, searching your misty eyes as if there are still questions he needs answered.

“Why did you want to kiss me? That first time. Why?” His tone is rushed, desperate.

“Because I wanted to know if I still felt it, whatever it was I felt before, I wanted to know if I still felt it.”

“And did you feel it then, and every time we did it?”

You close your eyes, causing the tears that have now accumulated to fall from your eyes. “Yes, Jungkook. Always.”

He thumbs the tears away as they fall down one by one. He looks at you as internally, he’s gathering the feelings of the past months - the anger, desolation, the regret - readying himself to let it all go, he just needs to hear you say it, whatever it is. He needs to know that you felt everything he felt.

“What did you feel just now?”

“Like I want more, Jungkook. I want more,” and you open your eyes to meet his satisfied ones, both of your breaths hitching at how you’re feeling a flurry of emotions that you can’t tame. 

Jungkook pulls your face towards his once again, meeting your tear-stained lips; this time he presses harder, slightly parting his mouth and you angle your face for better access. You feel like that moment when two puzzle pieces finally fit together, when they finally find their way, like two lost souls following the north star to find each other.

He continues his motions, coaxing you to go harder just as he is, and you do. He licks onto your bottom lip, seeking entrance, and with your parted mouth, you revel in the way both of yours meld onto each other so perfectly, so fluidly like they’re meant to do this, like your lips are meant to fuse together like this. And it sets you on fire. 

Your hands, which were only lightly touching his bent elbows as his palms continue to stroke your face, are now gliding on his arms, feeling the veins and ridges that dent his limbs. They proceed to graze over his hands, sending shivers down your spine as you imagine all the things those hands could do to you. You do this repeatedly, sensually, making Jungkook hungrier, needier. 

You’re so lost in the feeling of him this close to you, like one of your drives where the windows are down and the wind is blowing and you feel unanchored, flowing, light, like you any time you can fly away.

His hands trail south, caressing your sides until they find purchase on your waist, grip tightening as his mouth continues its attack on yours, both of your tongues fighting for dominance. This time he wins, as a slight tip of his head gives him an advantage and he’s going deeper. You moan onto his mouth, hands pulling on his hair by the nape of his neck, as they have now found refuge there. 

Push and pull you both go, from twirling your tongues and taking turns nibbling on each other’s lips. Your right hand slides down from his neck to his chest, and as you thumb his hard nipple that you feel through his shirt, he bucks his hip and you feel the dent on his crotch that causes adrenaline to surge through you. 

You clutch on his shirt, eager to get it off. You’re desperate as you feel heat rise to your chest, as if it’s about to explode. Your senses are overloaded right now, making you lightheaded, intoxicated, a dampness in your core accumulating as your hips meet his, seeking friction to quench the intense thirst of your body to feel his own. 

You pull away this time, feeling like your head will explode from the sensory overload - the strong and fresh scent of the white musk body wash, the sweet taste of coffee on his mouth, the erotic sounds of your heavy breathing and moans, the tingling feeling of his fingertips on your arms, and the sight of him on top of you.    

Eyes wide filled with worry that he might’ve done something wrong, Jungkook asks, “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just…” you let out a few continuous breaths, “I couldn’t breathe,” you continue, a short laugh escaping your lips. 

He chuckles. “I’m sorry, I got carried away.” He chews on his bottom lip. “I just didn’t think I’d hear you say that.”

“That I want you?”

He nods shyly, suddenly very different from the man who’d just tried to swallow you whole.

“I do, Jungkook. What about you?”

Now it’s your turn to have a worried look in your eyes, nervous about what will happen next.

“I want everything with you, Y/N. I want this,” he pulls you back to him and rests his forehead on yours, “I want all of this.” 

You close your eyes as he does, tips of your noses touching, breaths hot on each other’s skin. A smile forms on your lips as he kisses your cheek, left and right, then your jaw, and then your neck. He takes his time there, teeth nibbling on the flesh, tongue soothing the sting. 

He licks a strip up until his tongue lands on a sensitive area below your ear. He grazes his teeth on your skin and your senses come alive again. “Mhmm, Jungkook,” you moan. 

He smiles onto the spot, his breath causing that dampness on your core to pool once again. “You like that, babe?”

You laugh at the pet name, choosing instead to hide the overwhelming desire you feel to hear his low and raspy voice call you that everyday. 

“I hate you,” you tell him, head leaning on his shoulder. This one has no bite, though. And he knows this, but he plays along.

“Let me make it up to you, yeah?”

The intoxicating feeling comes back, this time from just the mere insinuation of what he’ll do to you. 

You nod and take his hand to lead him to your room. He follows, head in a daze because he didn’t think he could ever be with you like this. All the times you’d both walked to your room, you were drunk or tired or sleepy; you’d carefully lie on your sides of the bed, talk and laugh until you fall asleep. Just the thought of how different it’s going to be this time is making him feel dizzy.

He watches you walk towards your bed and as you stand there, turning to him, with the rays of the sun finding their way through your blinds and casting a heavenly glow on your silhouette, he thanks all the gods and the cosmos for planning this one out for him. 

You look at him tenderly and his heart, which has been beating so rapidly since you’d woken up, steadies its beats. He feels the entire weight of the world, which he’d placed on his shoulders on his own, dissipate slowly. 

He lives for moments on the stage when, in front of thousands of people cheering his name, he feels alive, like he’s got the whole world on the palm of his hands, like everything he’s ever wanted is possible. It’s just you and him in this apartment, in this room, and he feels the same and something else - he feels enough, he feels more. 

He kisses you slower this time, lips aching to savor every inch of your face, of your neck, as he slowly caresses your arms, your sides, taking his time there too.

He pulls you by the waist, hands resting on the base of your spine and he rests his head on the crook of your neck. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry for everything.”

You both stay there for a while, your arms around his neck and your warmth steadying Jungkook’s breathing that once again picked up when he’d realized he really could have completely lost you. 

“You haven’t lost me,” you say, as if his beating heart had whispered to you his ultimate fear. He hugs you tighter and buries his head on your neck even deeper.

“I’m still scared though,” you confess, fingers brushing through the loose strands of his hair.

“I know, so am I,” he responds, finally coming out of hiding and facing you. “And it’s okay. But we have to promise to tell each other when it gets too much, yeah? We have to tell each other what bothers us, what worries us.”

“I don’t like confrontations,” you say.

“They won’t be. They’ll be discussions. We can’t let this happen again, okay?”

“Okay.”

He tips your chin up so he’s looking into your eyes again. “Now I think I said I was going to make it up to you,” the smug look on his face making its return. You missed this. And also, you’re in trouble.

He kisses you again, and again, and again. He ghosts his fingertips underneath your shirt and then he’s tracing patterns, constellations on your torso. 

The clothes come off soon enough, until you’re both bare, uncovered, vulnerable in front of each other. He traces patterns again, this time with his lips, down to your shoulders, and then to your chest.

His mouth feels immaculate on your breasts, wet muscle hungrily laving over your pert nipples. His hands find refuge on your mound, ghosting the lips until the wetness sucks his fingers in. He draws circles over your clit, eliciting the most beautiful sounds from you. This rivals the screams of the fans for them, he thinks, but this one, he could have this everyday, definitely.

Everything happens the way both of you imagined, and you both commit to memory this moment - the satisfaction on his face when you buck your hips into his mouth, your dripping core coating his face with your wetness; the feeling of his soft but calloused hands claiming every inch of your body; his half-lidded eyes and his clenched jaw as he enters you, pushes into you, drags in and out of you; your cries of more, don’t stop, and I’m close, ringing in his head and prompting him to go harder, faster; and his moans as he finishes and your heavy breathing as you ride out both of your highs, heads still in the clouds, hands intertwined to keep you grounded, to remind you that this is real, that this isn’t the last time, that this is more. 

# 

You wake up to the sound of a phone’s incessant ringing, tempting you to throw the piece of device off the wall just so you could bask in this moment just a little longer. You try to reach for it, causing the morning sun that passes through the uncovered corner of your window to blind you slightly.

Jungkook groans next to you, head buried on the hair at the back of your head, his hand resting on your waist. You smile and let your fingers trace the ink that thoughtfully decorates his, settling them in the empty spaces in between. He deepens his head where it’s found sanctuary, hands now intertwined with yours, and pulls you closer. He greets you with kisses on your bare shoulder, soft moans escaping you as his hand now releases yours to roam the body he’d spend the whole day yesterday exploring.

“Mhmm, baby,” he moans to your ear, feeling the ecstasy of your hand soothing the ache he feels on his length. It’s all you need to turn to him, meet his lips, close the distance of your hips to his until he’s inserting himself into you again. Your bodies easily find a rhythm, your labored breaths harmonizing well. 

It’s a softer one this morning, unlike yesterday (morning, afternoon, evening, pretty much). It’s lazy, tender; bodies just falling into each other, melding, fitting together, finding each other. 

He cleans you up, like he did all times yesterday, and he lets you snuggle to him this time. He plants a kiss on your forehead, eyes dreamily tracing your features. He still can’t believe he’s here.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N.”

“And you’re so good to me, Kook.”

You hum as he kisses you once more, a satisfied smile displaying on your lips. He likes this very much.

His phone beeps again, and again. He lets his head fall back on the pillow out of frustration.

“They’re calling for you,” you point out, a smile still gracing your lips. You’re used to this already.

“I know,” he resigns. 

You rest your head on your chest and wrap your arm around him tighter. “Stay a little longer, please,” you plead.

He returns the favor and hugs you back, a satisfied smile on his face.  

“Your turn to make breakfast, babe.”

You groan but proceed to drag yourself out of bed. Limbs sore and legs feeling like jelly, you miss your footing and trip on your clothes and ungraciously fall to the floor.

You both explode with laughter. He could get used to this, he thinks.

#

part 3 <<>> part 4 drabble

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