#so i had to keep pressing skip whenever it would stop... very strange

[lelianaslefthand]

i know this isnt new they're just so special to me

[unbloomingmoonflower]

𝓉𝒾𝑒𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒷𝒾𝓃𝒹

A/N: Will I ever stop writing Yami/Atem x Hikari? Probably not. Do I have another what-if? I sure the heckie do!

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It was the smaller feelings. Ones that could be dismissed as nothing more than fleeting moments.

Yet those fleeting moments were starting to become more. Hikari wasn’t sure how or when, couldn’t pinpoint why she felt such a strong connection to the Pharaoh residing in Yugi’s Millennium Puzzle. When he was at the fore, the fleeting glances they shared sent shockwaves of deja vu to her very core. Slight brushes of their fingers against each other ignited her skin in a way that was familiar and yet--at first, she wasn’t sure why.

That was when the dreams began to start.

The ever-shifting sands of Egypt, the palace that overlooked a kingdom, a flash and tourmaline eyes examined herself. She was dressed in the garb of a queen: the white dress, cinched at the waist, the golden bracelets that hung from her wrists and the golden rings that adorned her fingers. An equally bejeweled hand entered her line of sight, reaching for her hand and her eyes flew upward.

Hikari’s heart skipped a beat to see the Pharaoh standing before her, with an expression so loving on his countenance that her breath caught in her throat. He cradled her hand so gently, lifting it to his lips. The barest brush against her fingers ignited her skin just as it did when she was awake.

“Rana.”  

That name--it called to something deep within her soul. It was a strong pull in this dream, in this moment, as he called to her, drew her close. And Hikari suddenly recognized this moment for what it was.

A memory.

A memory of a time five thousand years ago, of an incarnation she never realized she had. A queen, who stood at the side of her Pharaoh; whose heart beat for him and him alone. The pull Hikari felt toward the Pharaoh, one that seemed to be shared; the strange sense of familiarity; the sensation of moments lost to the sands of time repeated within the modern world.

With each day that passed, with each dream, the memory’s puzzle pieces were fitting together. Her former self from five thousand years ago, Rana was the Pharaoh’s queen. With each pieces that fit, Hikari realized why her feelings for the amnesiac spirit were so strong, why they felt almost...natural. Her past incarnation, that seemed to still thrive within her own soul, loved the Pharaoh every day, week, month, year, centuries. The moment Hikari was born was the moment the queen would reunite with her king.

The Pharaoh had yet to recall his own memory, yet Hikari sensed that the love he bore for his queen drew him to her. Whenever he was at the fore, he never strayed far from her side, even when he himself was uncertain of why. His eyes sought hers, as if searching for some hidden truth. It would make sense, in an almost ironic way.

She was remembering their past together, while he was seeking to remember...

His name was replaced by a buzz, even though her lips shaped the word and her tongue tasted the syllables. The smile that he gave her--that seemed to only be for her--as he drew her close. He was both bathed and illuminated by the sun’s golden rays, his radiance only enhanced and her heart thundered within her chest.

His arms wound around her, keeping her close within the confines of their chamber, his gaze so intensely focused on hers. “What are you thinking about, my queen?” he asked her, his voice ever so gentle and forever curious to know the thoughts that crossed her mind. Be they mundane or profound, he listened to them all.

She lifted a hand to touch his face, watching as he instinctively nuzzled his cheek against her palm. An adoring smile touched her lips as she spoke then. “Truly a vessel of the gods. A man of beauty.”

The faint dusting of red coloring his cheeks caused a giggle to leave her lips. Turning his head enough to press a kiss against his queen’s palm, the Pharaoh’s eyes flickered to hers. “You truly believe that?” he asked softly and heat rose to her cheeks to feel his lips forming the words.

A font of honesty she was, for she answered with every ounce of love in her body. “I do, and so much more.”

It appeared to be enough; before she knew it, her beloved king’s lips were against hers, his hands now cradling her face. The intensity and passion shared within that kiss made her heart race and an inferno ignite to her very marrow. When he pulled away, he took with him her breath...

“...kari? Hikari!” The urgent call of her name reached her ears. There was desperation, a plea for her to wake up, just wake up. The ravenette could feel herself flinch, her eyes struggling for just a moment before they slowly opened.

Her blurred vision slowly cleared, focusing on the frantic Pharaoh gazing down at her. When did he take to the fore? Relief was in his eyes, but still a frantic worry remained etched on his countenance. Hikari slowly became aware of her surroundings--was this Yugi’s room?--and rapidly aware of the Pharaoh’s arms holding her close. “Pharaoh...what happened...?” she asked softly.

“You had been talking with Yugi regarding the Millennium Puzzle before you suddenly fell unconscious. You...don’t remember?” There was a strange emotion in his voice, as though torn between confusion and relief. Hikari gazed up at the Pharaoh, his visage flashing to how he appeared in her dream, before she slowly shook her head. He sighed and--much to Hikari’s surprise--embraced her tightly to him. “Never mind it. As long as you’re all right...” he whispered, his relief evident in his voice now. The embrace was very familiar, now that Hikari understood why their bond was so strong; why she felt bound to him.

When the Pharaoh pulled back, there was a strange look in his eyes now. A flicker passed through those intense irises, fleeting, before his grip tightened. “Let us get you some water,” he murmured, clearly referencing himself and Yugi. It was clear the latter was about to be given the fore of their shared body, as his arms fell from Hikari once she was sitting upright. The ravenette quickly grabbed at his hand, watching as his expression changed to surprise. “Hikari...are you all right?” he asked softly, his fingers curling around her hands instinctively.

Hikari nodded, letting out a breath. “I’m fine, I just...” she trailed off. Should she mention the dream? Her gut told her it was only right and yet...

Releasing the Pharaoh’s hand, the ravenette offered a smile. “I’m okay, really!”

His eyes spoke volumes and told her he wasn’t entirely believing she was well; however, he wasn’t going to push her. It was a shared trait they had when it came to one another. “Wait here, then,” he told her, preparing to get to his feet--but not before unthinkingly caressing his fingers along the curve of her cheek.

Just like he’s done so many times five thousand years ago and now. He just doesn’t remember...

Hikari nodded, watching as the Pharaoh left the room. The ties that kept them together would remain within her heart until it was time.

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Childhood

Father of Mine – Part 1 and Part 2

+ This Game of Ours

Jason’s eyes snapped open at a sound that no human should be able to hear.

Ever since he’d been resurrected from the Lazarus pit, his senses had grown abnormally acute – amongst other strange things. 

Sometimes he swore he could even hear Y/N’s heartbeat. It was easiest to do with her, after all he was so intone with her very being.

But all of that made nearly impossible for anyone to sneak up on him – let alone in his own home. Which someone was. He could feel it.

Jason’s eyes glanced down at Y/N, who was sound asleep on his chest.

Ever so carefully, he lifted her body off of him so he could slip out of bed.

But Y/N was a light sleeper, unfortunately. She must’ve inherited that from Bruce, even though she wasn’t even raised by the man.

Y/N winced as her eyes opened just in time to see Jason grabbing one of his hidden guns from below their bed frame.

“What’s going on?” Her voice raspy.

“Nothing,” Jason lied. “Stay here.”

Now that she found out about another hidden gun in their apartment, Jason knew he was going to return to a lecture from Y/N. She never hid her hatred for guns, and had asked him to keep them out of their apartment.

“Jason…” Y/N whispered desperately, now more awake and concerned.

“Stay here,” Jason said, more firmly this time.

Then he quickly kissed her, leaving even less room for her to argue.

In only his black boxer briefs, Jason snuck out of their bedroom and into the living room without making any sound. Y/N had always been shocked at how quiet her giant boyfriend could make himself.

Just as Jason raised his gun, he heard the familiar voice.

“Put some clothes on, Todd.”

Damian stepped out of the shadows.

To Jason’s surprise, he was in civilian clothes and not in his Robin uniform.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, breaking in like that?” Jason reprimanded as he uncocked the gun.

But before Damian could defend himself, the bedroom door squeaked open and Y/N was rushing out into the living room.

“I told you to stay there,” Jason growled.

Y/N rolled her eyes at her boyfriend’s overprotectiveness. “Obviously I recognized Damian’s voice, Jason.”

Then Y/N looked at her half-brother for a second and quickly realized Damian had come there for a reason.

“Everything alright, Damian?” She asked carefully.

“Yes,” he lied.

Jason remembered when Damian despised Y/N. He saw her as a threat to his claim to the Wayne throne. But Y/N had immediately made her intentions clear. “I have my own reputation, money, and career that I built without a name attached to me. I want nothing to do with Wayne Enterprises,” she had told Damian as soon as she realized he saw her as some sort of competition.

It took Damian months to even acknowledge Y/N. And he really only did because both his father and Dick – basically his surrogate father – scolded him for not doing so.

Slowly but surely, the two grew closer.

Y/N didn’t put up with Damian’s attitude. But she also didn’t scold him like a child. If he was rude or aggressive, she spoke to him the same way she would speak to a grown man who behaved in such a manner. Somehow it made the boy slowly start to respect her more.

Eventually, they bonded over their mutual love of the arts. Damian was impressed with her photographs, while Y/N was honored whenever Damian decided to share his drawings with her. Y/N had gifted Damian his first camera. And Damian once gave her a few lessons on the basics of sketching and painting.

Who knew Waynes were the creative type?

And it was when Damian’s pets all seemed to be obsessed with Y/N that the boy finally decided to get over his original opinions and feelings.

It was by no means a short or easy battle. But the rest of the family was relieved when Damian finally accepted Y/N as one of their own.

“How about I make us some hot chocolate?” Y/N offered Damian.

The boy just shrugged, but she noticed his eyes subtly light up.

She never understood why he refused to let himself feel joy in the simple things. It was like she could catch him stopping himself from being a kid.

“I’m going to bed,” Jason announced with exhaustion.

It was clear to him that Damian came to see his sister, not him. And he was nice enough to leave the two of them alone. Even though he was a bit bitter that his girlfriend was being stolen from their bed.

Before turning back to the bedroom, Jason invaded Y/N’s space and gently grabbed her jaw before pressing a kiss to her lips.

“Gross,” Damian groaned.

Jason glared and pointed at the boy. “You’re in our apartment, demon spawn. I’ll kiss my girlfriend if I fuckin’ want to.”

Y/N just laughed as she watched Jason close their bedroom door behind him.

“Come on,” she nudged her head in the direction of the kitchen. “Let’s make some hot chocolate. I think I have some of Alfred’s cookies hiding somewhere, too.”

“I don’t know what you see in him,” Damian mumbled.

Y/N smirked and shook her head. Tonight, she wasn’t taking the bait. 

Once Damian decided he didn’t hate Y/N, he jumped right to making it known that he did not think Jason was good enough for her. But she knew it was an act – mostly.

“Why aren’t you on patrol?” She asked casually once they had giant mugs of hot chocolate and cookies in front of them, making sure to give the boy extra marshmallows. 

“I’m grounded,” Damian muttered.

Y/N tilted her head. “Grounded?”

It seemed like a far too normal concept for a family of vigilantes.

“Yes,” Damian confirmed.

“I’m guessing that means Bruce and Alfred don’t know you’re here…?”

“I snuck out,” he admitted.

“Why did you get grounded?”

“Father found out I was skipping school. And then that I skipped the school dance.”

“Why does it matter if you skipped the dance?” She asked, clearly confused.

Y/N was also struggling to imagine Bruce caring about such a trivial thing like that.  

“Father wishes for me to have normal experiences that young man of my age is expected to have,” Damian said with a roll of his eyes.

“School dances are lame,” Y/N commented.

Damian sat up straighter, not expecting that to be her response.

“I skipped prom. I didn’t want to go,” she added.

“Why not?” The boy challenge, somewhat caught off guard by that.

Y/N shrugged. “Bad music. Bad dancing. Tacky dresses. Just wasn’t all that appealing to angsty, teenage me.”

Damian just nodded slowly, and then got quiet.

“I have no desire to be normal,” he finally stated after a few minutes.

“I’m not taking his side, but I get why Bruce wants you to do these things, Damian. You were robbed of a lot of things because of the way you were raised. I’m not saying that it’s bad or good. But I think Bruce just wants to give you the opportunity to experience the life of a – well...of a kid.”

“And was your life normal?” Damian quickly asked.

Y/N nodded. “So normal that it was boring.” She laughed, “My entire life was normal until I met all of you weirdos.”

That got a smile out of Damian.

But then it slowly dropped and he seemed to get lost in his head.

“I don’t…I don’t have any friends,” Damian finally whimpered.

Y/N was shocked by the boy’s emotion.

Damian was always composed.

“It’s like they speak a different language. And it’s one I can never learn.”

“Oh, Damian,” Y/N sighed as she rushed from her seat to kneel beside him. “I know it must be hard to try and fit in. But you’re not doing anything wrong. None of that’s your fault.”

“Father is more than aware that I don’t need the education,” Damian’s voice shook as he tried not to cry. “He only forces me to attend so I can make friends. And that is one thing I am unable to do.”

Y/N let him breathe and have an opportunity to continue before she spoke again. 

“I hate school, so I skip. And the school dance seemed so ridiculous to me, so I skipped that too – even after father specifically requested that I attend.”

Y/N sighed, “And did you tell him how you’re feeling when he grounded you?”

Damian shook his head no.

She hadn’t expected anything different. She could easily imagine Damian lashing out at Bruce when he received his punishment, saying that the requests were a waste of his time and beneath him. 

Damian was good at hiding his emotional pain – maybe even better than their father.

Y/N was sure Bruce didn’t have a true understanding of what Damian was going through.

“Can I stay here tonight?” Damian asked.

“Of course,” she gave him a sad smile. “How about we take this hot chocolate to the couch and watch a movie?”

Damian shrugged. But it wasn’t a no.

Y/N let him pick the movie.

He chose Fantasia. 

When Y/N didn’t hide her surprise, he explained that he respected the animation and loved all of the classical music. Even when they did a child-like activity, he still always found way to remind the world that he was no normal child.

An hour later, both of them had fallen asleep on the couch with the movie still playing.

When Damian felt another presence, he awoke with a jolt and grabbed his hidden knife, holding it to the throat of the intruder.

But it was Jason, gently bringing Y/N’s sleeping body into his arms.

“Once again, demon spawn, you’re in our apartment,” Jason hissed with annoyance.

The man was completely unfazed by the feeling of a blade threatening to slit his throat. 

Damian huffed.

“I’m taking her to bed,” Jason explained the obvious. Then he nudged his head at the love-seat across from Damian. “There’s a blanket right there if you want to sleep on the couch. Or you can sleep in the guest bedroom.”

But Jason paused, with Y/N sleeping in his arms, as he noticed a strange look on Damian’s face.

“What?” He urged.

“If you ever hurt her, I’ll kill you myself,” Damian growled softly.

Jason looked utterly unimpressed. “You’d have to get in line,” he answered, making sure to keep his voice quiet to prevent waking Y/N.

But then Jason’s face softened. “Look, kid, I think you know that she’s the best thing to ever happen to me. I’d die before doing anything to mess this up.”

“Hmph,” was the only noise Damian made in response.

Jason rolled his eyes and carried Y/N back to their bedroom.

In all honesty, he couldn’t fall asleep while she had been in with Damian. With Jason’s weird enhanced hearing because of the pit, he was able to catch a bit of their conversation.

Jason softly place Y/N back in bed and pulled the covers up to her shoulders. When he joined her on the other side of the bed, she didn’t even wake as she slid back into his arms.

Now Jason could finally go to sleep.

When there was a knock on the apartment door the next morning, Damian and Y/N shared a look.

“I’ll get it,” Y/N sighed.

Jason had made all three of them breakfast that morning.

But now Damian pushed the food around his plate, knowing this was the end of his small rebellion. Who knew what his new punishment would be?

Y/N opened the door to unsurprisingly find her father.

Bruce was wearing a full suit, despite it being a Sunday morning. On top was a heavy, black overcoat with the back of the collar slightly propped up.

“You could have least told me he was here,” Bruce greeted his daughter.

She smirked mischievously and shrugged. “I’m no snitch.”

Damian appeared behind Y/N, not seeing the point in dragging this out any longer than necessary.

“Alfred’s downstairs with the car,” Bruce told his son evenly.

The disappointment in both his expression and tone was obvious.

Damian looked up at Y/N. “Thank you for having me, Y/N.”

“Next time, use the actual door so you don’t give me or Jason a heart attack.”

Damian smiled at that before walking past his father and down the hallway.

“Can I talk to you a second?” Y/N asked Bruce.

Her father seemed surprised by the request, but nodded anyways and closed the door behind him.

“I think Damian is really struggling – more than you think, I mean.”

Bruce’s brow furrowed and he crossed his arms. “He hasn’t even been remotely injured from patrols in months…”

“No, Bruce,” she quickly cut off. “Not as Robin. As Damian.”

Bruce was quiet.

“He doesn’t know how to fit in, Bruce. And you’re putting a lot of pressure on him to live a normal life. Bu he’s never gonna have normal. That was taken away from him before you even knew he existed.”

“He said that to you?” Bruce asked.

She nodded. “In so few words, yes.”

“And I’m assuming you have some advice,” he quirked a brow.

“Well, yeah. Maybe you should just homeschool him.”

“Y/N, the whole point of him going to school is to be around kids his own age. We both know the education is beneath him already.”

“But that’s the thing, Bruce. He’s never going to relate to any of those kids. Going to school makes him feel like a freak. Let him get homeschooled.”

“He needs to learn to make friends,” Bruce argued.

“You’re right. He does. But not with the spoiled brats of Gotham Academy. How many superheroes are you friends with?”

“He doesn’t consider them friends!” Jason shouted from the kitchen.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Fine. How many superheroes are you acquainted with, who have kids around Damian’s age?”

Bruce’s jaw tightened.

“I know you like to keep your personal life away from Batman. But those are the only kids that Damian is ever going to relate to in some way. Do you get what I’m saying?”

To her surprise, Bruce nodded. “You’re right.”

Her brows shot up. “I am?”

Y/N had really expected him to fight her on this.

Bruce chuckled. “Of course you are. Out of everyone in this family, you are the only one who can say they had any semblance of a normal childhood.”

Suddenly his phone dinged and he glanced down at it.

“I have to go,” he regretfully told her.

When he looked back up at her, his face softened. “Come to the manor soon for dinner,” he asked her gently.

She gave him a soft smile and nodded, “I will.”

Bruce nodded in the direction of the kitchen where Jason was hiding. “And bring that one with you, will you?”

Y/N laughed. “He’ll go wherever I go. He’s like a puppy, that one.”

“I can hear you!” Jason called out.

Bruce laughed and stepped forward to give Y/N a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for looking out for Damian, Y/N.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Bruce.”

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[yslkook]

UNFUCKWITABLE (9)

mind of mine masterlist

summary: jungkook convinces you to take a staycation with him for a few days (a week).

pairing: “badboy” jk x “shy/reserved” oc

warnings: cursing, alc, excessive use of pet names, oc and jk discuss their unprotected sex practices, vomiting, some jealous jk, mild exhibitionism, fingers in oc's mouth grinding, making out, oral (m), titjob

word count: 7k

a/n: if you want to be tagged, send an ask plz. would love to hear your thoughts. also...cant believe mom manifested into butter jk im in pain

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Jungkook is unsurprised to enter your home with the key you’d given him the other week and find it completely empty. You’ve been working early mornings and incredibly late nights for the last week and a half, and he can tell it’s beginning to take a toll on you. The first sign that you were beginning to wear down was when you had skipped dinner in favor of sleeping. The second was when you had snapped at him in irritation and then immediately cried over hurting his feelings.

He can think of about a dozen other things, including the even more pronounced bags under your eyes. You’ve always had dark circles under your eyes naturally from hyperpigmentation but these days, not even concealer can help you mask them.

In fact, the reason that you’d even given him a key was because you felt like work was taking over your entire life. You’d hardly had a chance to see anyone who wasn’t a work colleague, and you just missed Jungkook. At least this way, you could wake up and go to bed with him.

You had only been calling Jungkook your partner just shy of four months, and he had a key to your home. Perhaps it was fast for other people, but with him, it felt right. So he keeps a copy of your keys on his lanyard- it’s possibly his most prized possession right now. Jungkook usually only comes when you ask him to, he’s been staying at your place for the last week because of how tired and busy you were.

Usually you stop by the tattoo parlor at least once or twice a week, but you have been sparse because of work. So he’s here, in your home without you. It felt strange the first few times he’d been here without you, but then he started leaving little pockets of himself- his shoes next to yours, his hair product on your shelf, and his two of his jackets hanging near yours in the closet. He’d even purchased a new plant to keep on your windowsill in your living room (which you take turns dutifully watering and making sure she gets enough sunlight).

It’s all very domestic. He had jokingly told you not to expose him to your shared friends, specifically Mina and Mei. To which you had rolled your eyes.

Though some small, very small, part of him wonders if the magic will fade away soon. Considering how fast you both are moving both physically into your home and in your relationship.

It’s only been a few months, and you both were incredibly comfortable with the idea of unprotected sex- after all, Jungkook always pulls out in time. Until, of course, you’d had a pregnancy scare. Hoseok and Yoongi, ever the pair of realists, had scolded him when Jungkook had revealed that you both hardly ever used any protection-

“Are you trying to knock her up? Is that it? You both ready to potentially be parents?” Yoongi says mildly as he polishes off his wine, looking at Jungkook expectantly. Jungkook’s cheeks burn.

“No, I’m not trying to knock her up and no, nobody’s trying to be parents-”

“You both are lucky you haven’t knocked her up already,” Hoseok says, with more heat in his voice, “You both are fucking stupid, but you especially.” He even smacks the back of his head with the book in his hands and Jungkook glares at him.

“Hey, my pull out game has always been strong, and I’m serious about her. We wouldn’t fuck raw if-”

“Oh, yes, then we definitely have nothing to worry about,” Yoongi says, “Keep it moving, Hobi.

“Talk to her about it, or else,” Hoseok threatens, “I don’t wanna hear about another pregnancy scare because you’re both idiots.”

“I know, I know,” Jungkook relents, “We’ve been talking about it. It just sucks that birth control can fuck up a woman’s body like that, you know? Mood changes and appetite changes, nausea and everything…”

“You could always get a vasectomy,” Yoongi says bluntly.

“Mei said the same thing. She was way more mean about it, though. Told me she’d cut my balls off if I didn’t get my shit together.”

“I don’t blame her, considering what a mess you both were last month.”

“We were not a mess!”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so stressed ever in your life, not even when your first bike got run over by a car. Or when your tattoo got infected three consecutive times. And I’ve never seen her cry so much before.”

“Alright, maybe we’re a little bit of a mess.”

In the end, you and Jungkook had both decided that yes, condoms were probably a good idea. Considering the pregnancy scare you had last month, you both were on edge and a little paranoid. Jungkook hadn’t even mentioned the idea of you taking birth control or getting an IUD, knowing that your last few experiences with the former were unpleasant-

“I can get a vasectomy, you know. In fact, Yoongi suggested it,” Jungkook shrugs nonchalantly but your jaw drops.

“Jungkook. I don’t think vasectomies are reversible like that. Think about what you’re saying,” You murmur, “I’m touched you’d consider a surgical procedure so I don’t have to take birth control, but what if-”

“I looked it up, they can be reversed-”

“But Jungkook! You don’t know that, what if you want to have kids later and you can’t because you decided on a fucking whim to get a vasectomy? It’s still trauma on your body! You can’t just snip snap, snip snap your vas deferens tube whenever you please. At least with birth control you can start and stop it, even if that’s not a completely benign process.”

Jungkook looks at you long and hard, his tongue poking his cheek and you sigh. “But I don’t-”

“Honey. I appreciate your thoughtfulness,” You murmur, squeezing his hands in yours, “But we’re both being stupid. We’re both acting like condoms don’t exist. Why don’t we start with condoms and then think about getting your tubes tied or me getting an IUD?”

“You spoiled me,” Jungkook complains dramatically and drops his head to your chest, “With your pussy. I’m spoiled now.”

“Shut up.”

And so now, a box of condoms sits in the drawer of your nightstand and you’ve taken to bringing a few with you in your purse as well (and so does he). You’d been far more nervous buying condoms than you’d ever been of buying anything else, and Jungkook had only cockily grinned at you.

Today’s Friday and it’s the day of your deadline. Meaning that you’d hopefully be home soon and be his for the rest of the weekend. He fully plans on getting you to relax and stay in for the majority of the weekend, so that you can catch up on sleep.

But then you come home past dinner (you had sent him a text earlier telling him that you were going to be late. He knows your mood is sour- you had been in a foul mood all week, and the fact that you’re so close to being home but so far just makes it worse). You come home with an empty belly, a weary mind and wetness along your lash line. Climbing into bed next to him, you circle your arms around his waist and cry tiredly into his chest.

“J-Jungkook,” You hiccup, “I’m so tired, they kept me s-so late today but it’s done. Everything is finished-”

“Oh, baby,” He sighs, rubbing your back soothingly, “It’s okay. We can just sleep now. You should take a few days off next week, baby.”

“I don’t know…” But your eyes are wide and considering it.

“You’ve been running on empty all week,” Jungkook points out, “For longer than that. Your job can handle two or three days without you while you recharge. Text your boss, baby. You need to rest, too.”

He nudges your cheek with his nose and you hum in agreement. “Okay. Five day weekend? Sure you won’t get tired of me?” You murmur and laugh when he squeezes your waist.

“We can make it a staycation.”

And you’re already texting your boss, telling her that you needed a few days off next week. She gives you a thumbs up and encourages you to rest up, making it a point to recognize how hard you’ve been working. She even suggests you take the full week off, which you jump at and Jungkook only grins at you.

“My brilliant girl, charming her way into a full week off.”

You swat his hand away and hide your burning but satisfied face in his chest. “Yeah, your bad habits are rubbing off on me.”

“Oh, that’s not the only thing rubbing off on you,” Jungkook says wickedly and pushes his hips into yours, earning a fierce pinch to his bare waist.

“Hush, I’m trying to nap,” You mumble, your voice muffled. Without warning, you lick his neck and bite lightly at the base of his neck, ignoring his soft yelp. He doesn’t have a chance to question you on what that was, as you’re already falling asleep.

You’ve always thought from the beginning, even when you and Jungkook were just friends, that he was an ass man. You’ve caught him staring at your ass many, many times- in jeans, in a dress, in a skirt. And now that you both are officially together, he spends any and every moment he can with a hand on your ass. Casually, when you both walk side by side. And purposefully when you’re both just in his bed or on your couch. His hand is a well known presence on your ass, not that you’re complaining.

One of Jungkook’s favorite places to nap is on your ass, with his cheek pressed into you and one hand firmly gripping your ass. He also likes laying with his head on your lap. But his favorite place to nap is with his head buried in your chest, specifically buried in between your tits. He is currently analyzing his hypothesis that your right tit is smaller than your left, a thought he’s had for a while now, but needs further samples of evidence to properly assess.

But he’s always had an affinity for your tits, whether you’re blissfully unaware of it or not. You don’t notice it not really- you like any and all of his touches on any inch of your skin, as you’ve told him many times before. Especially when he holds you close next to him or under him and you feel protected, surrounded by only him.

He holds you, looks at you as if you’re as soothing as the sea and as bright as a supernova. And yet, the universe is contained in his big, doe eyes.

But really, at the end of the day, it’s an affinity for you. Jungkook loves every part of your mind, body, and soul, and he thinks he has for a long time. His heart has been tangled with yours since the first time he had seen you years ago at Hobi’s surprise birthday party that you had planned. Jungkook is sure that when he had seen you with a homemade red velvet cheesecake with a ‘Happy Birthday Hobi <3’ written perfectly in red icing in your arms, a silly party hat on your head, and a shy, beaming smile on your lips, he had been magnetized to your center of gravity from then on.

But even then, he had only hovered. Barely introducing himself, if it weren’t for Mina and Mei. He thought he had known girls like you- girls who baked cakes, planned elaborate birthday parties for their friends and wore flowery dresses liked other predictable people. It’s another one of his hypotheses (which has been clearly debunked)- but by now, he knows not to be so judgmental of others.

But he doesn’t dwell on that for long. Even the first time he met you, right after he had introduced himself to you and you had stared at him with starstruck eyes and stammered a quiet ‘hello’ in return, Sora had cornered him. And told him to back off from right then, that you were off limits. That you’d never be interested in a guy like him, so to not even spend a second in his stupid little mind even entertaining the ridiculous idea.

So he backed off subconsciously, thinking it wasn’t worth it to even know you as a friend. He’d convinced himself that it was too much trouble, and Jungkook has always been an easygoing kind of guy in most instances. After all, your best friend would know you best, right? And really, what did he care? As the saying goes, there were about a million other fish in the sea.

However. Even then, with each word uttered between you both, with each laugh that he pulled from your soft mouth, he couldn’t help the reluctant fondness for you that began to bloom. You had surprised him every few months after that, just saying hello at events that you were both present at and asking how he was. With that stupidly beautiful smile and those bright, shy eyes.

You were a smart, kind woman, always remembering details about others. And he was no exception.

That was years ago. He’s known you since your third year at university, hanging by a thread just outside your orbit. But this is now.

This is now, and your lips are against his neck, your chest pressed to his. You climb into his lap haphazardly, nearly knocking your mug off of the coffee table. You both have only just woken up and stumbled out of bed for coffee and breakfast. You had combed the tangles out of his bedhead with his head in your lap, but now sleepiness has washed away and you’re tugging at his oversized shirt.

You promptly bite him, right where his neck tattoo starts and ends. Jungkook meets your eyes with an incredulous, breathy laugh. “What’s gotten into you?” He murmurs, palming your chest from under your shirt.

“Nothing. You just have a very biteable neck, I told you,” You say, resuming your inspection of the vein next to his tattoo, “What a juicy jugular vein-”

Jungkook holds your wrist and flips you so that your back is on the couch. “My sexy vampire girlfriend. Love when she starts talking about my jugular vein.”

“Watch out, I might drink from it. You never know,” You giggle with a wink, squirming in his grip.

“You can do whatever you want,” Jungkook murmurs but then an idea that has been planted in his head for weeks now spills from his lips without him meaning to, “I wanna fuck your tits, baby.”

Your eyes go comically wide, mimicking Jungkook’s own. His cheeks are a little pink from his abrupt confession as silence falls between you both.

“That’s really interesting,” You muse.

“Is it?” He asks, feeling a little lightheaded. You tug a little at his purple locks to pull him down to you.

“Yeah. Always thought you liked booty. And legs,” You shrug, “But I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised.”

Jungkook’s throat is too dry for him to reply coherently. But he finds his voice after you give him a reassuring smile, “Uh, when it’s you, I like everything.”

“Me too. When it’s you, I like everything,” You mumble, heat rising in your cheeks, “And uh… you can. Do that I mean.”

“Do what?” He asks teasingly, tilting his head to the side.

“Don’t play dumb,” You whine, shoving his shoulder.

“C’mon say it,” Jungkook jeers, not unkindly, “Put your big girl panties on.”

“I hate you,” You sigh dramatically, “Fine. You can fuck my tits, if you so desire.” His face splits into a grin as he thumbs your chin and ducks his head into your neck. He playfully nips at your skin, murmuring that he’s just giving you a taste of your own medicine, but you feel his half hard cock pressing against your thigh.

The image of his cock wet and slick between your tits is now imprinted in your mind, and when both of you want something, you’ll surely get it.

Despite your eagerness of making Jungkook’s wish a reality, neither of you have had the chance for your usual shenanigans just yet. You still have quite a few days of your staycation left, so you won’t rush it. You had spent most of the first two days sleeping, cuddling, spooning, eating and lots and lots of slow sex.

You think you can count on one hand the number of times you’ve left your bed. Jungkook has been nothing short of wonderful, bringing you food (just this once, you hate eating while in bed), giving you shoulder rubs and booty rubs without you asking. Your favorite ice cream is in your freezer. Life is good.

His shirt hangs off of your shoulder and you’re too lazy to fix it. In fact you’re too lazy for pajama bottoms, only settling on your favorite pair of comfortable panties (nothing flashy. Just a standard black cotton panty) to wear under your shirt. One might even call them granny panties or whatever, but lace was uncomfortable on your skin. Lace and thongs are for very, very special occasions (hardly if ever) and you are in the comfort of your own home. You’ll be comfortable if it’s the last thing you do.

In fact, you’re too lazy to even raise your head to pucker your lips for a kiss from Jungkook. You only open your arms and hum, as if he’s supposed to telepathically know what you want from him. But he does, and he flops onto you once he tugs his shirt off. Jungkook’s face remains buried in your chest as you gently rub his scalp.

He hums happily, nearly purring at your touch and shoves himself closer into your hold. You can’t believe this man, the man who mildly intimidated you for years, is now in your arms and purring like a baby kitten. He’s admitted a few times that his scalp has been irritated and inflamed ever since he dyed his hair purple. One of his favorite things is to lay in your lap while you massage a mix of coconut oil and peppermint oil into his scalp.

He looks up at you, warm heat blazing in his eyes. You’re about to ask him what he’s thinking about but he palms your pussy from under your shirt- your still swollen, puffy pussy from the four times he’s made you cum already.

“Can I help you, Jungkook,” You ask flatly, but your poker face breaks when he dots you with kisses up and down your thighs.

“Yeah, fuck,” Jungkook groans, voice slowing to a whine, “I’m still hard, baby, fuck. Help me.”

“How are you still hard,” You wonder with a grin, “Damn, Jeon. You must really like me, huh?”

“If that wasn’t obvious then I’m clearly not doing something right here,” He breathes into your skin.

“Gimme a kiss then,” You murmur, pushing his long hair behind his ear. His eyebrow piercing glints in the light of your bedroom and you trace it gently with your fingertips. Jungkook desperately pushes his lips to yours, parting your lips easily and slipping his tongue into your mouth. He kisses your teeth hungrily, strands of his hair brushing against your cheeks.

His hips roll into yours impatiently, hands already pawing at your shirt. The air in your bedroom is suddenly so stifling, thick and nearly choking you both with the intensity of your desire. You just want him to feel good with you.

“Jungkook,” You say softly with warm cheeks, “You can use me, however you want. Tell me what you want, bunny.”

He lets out a quiet gasp, his eyes bright and wide.

You’re both on the same page, because he’s scrambling to chuck his boxers to the side and you’re tossing your shirt on top of his boxers.

***********************

“Fuuuck,” Jungkook groans. He’s breathless, heart racing erratically. All he can do is hold your shoulders as he watches with a piercing, hazy gaze as his cock is swallowed in between your tits. You squeeze them tightly together, trying to create as much friction as you can for him.

“Fuck,” He whines, “Fuck, you look so good, baby. O-oh, shit, my pretty baby, you’re pretty-”

Jungkook nearly cums when you mischievously stick your tongue out to brush against the head of his leaking cock. The visual is almost too much for him and his breaths are choked, strangled as he forces himself to look into your dark eyes.

“So big, bunny, look,” You say softly, “You like this? You’re so hot like this…”

He’s nearly in tears, eyes shining and wet at how good this feels. If your pussy was a slice of heaven, then your tits were the next best thing. You moan softly, feeling your own wetness and heat pooling. Jungkook’s cheeks and chest are flushed, eyes wild and wet as he slides his cock in between the valley of your tits languidly. Almost as if he doesn’t want the moment to end.

You’re so warm, warm everywhere.

His muscles are tense, the furrow in his brow beginning to appear when he’s about to cum. “Shit, baby, oh my god, I love your tits,” Jungkook moans, tossing his head back, “Fuck, I love everything about you-”

You don’t know how he’s able to form coherent sentences to you when he’s this close to cumming. But he’s always been a man of many talents.

“You know what I just realized,” You gasp suddenly, “Neither of us made it official that we’re dating. Like I never asked you ‘out’ and you never asked me ‘out’-”

“Fuck, you talk too much,” Jungkook nearly snarls, “My cock is literally in between your tits and I’m about to fucking cum all over you and you think I belong to anyone else?”

You swallow thickly, Jungkook narrowing his eyes at you. He looks intimidating and intense above you, his powerful, golden thighs straddling either side of you.

“N-no, I was just-”

Jungkook shoots you a glare, reaches behind him and gathers your wetness with two fingers. Before you can ask him what he’s doing, he pushes two fingers into your mouth to shut you up. You send him a glare right back, but it melts away quickly when you swirl your tongue and suck on his digits.

He cums without warning, hastily and with a broken sort of sound ripping from his throat. It’s warm and sticky as it lands on your chest and your cheek. But he cums so much and much to your chagrin some of his cum gets in your eye and you nearly shriek at the burn.

“Jungkook! What the hell, your cum is in my fucking eyeball-”

He’s still panting above you, like some sort of golden boy, and it takes him a few seconds to register your irritation. “Oh shit,” Jungkook says and jumps into action. He tugs you into the bathroom to gently wash your eye for you (after washing his own hands), with you grumbling the entire time.

“I’m sorry, baby,” He says sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. You roll your eyes and demand to be taken back to bed and lavished in kisses as penance for his cum shooting into your eye.

Jungkook tastes himself a little when his tongue slips into your mouth, but it hardly registers as he rolls on top of you, caging you in between his arms.

Jungkook fleetingly thinks he should’ve spent more time trying to convince you to stay home with him. Maybe with a few soft, long kisses to your neck, he might have. You looked delectable, good enough to eat- your dress fitted around your hips, nails, hair, and makeup done, the scent of your perfume subtle but not irritating to his sensitive nose.

You had asked him to pick what jewelry to wear, so one of his long necklaces sitting around your neck and disappearing into the valley of your chest. It doesn’t really match with your dress, but you don’t care.

And Jungkook… well, it was difficult for you to keep your hands off of him as well. His hair is tied back into a neat ponytail, he’s wearing a sequined black (fitted) button up with the top four buttons undone, a thick, silver chain and ripped, black jeans. Your eyes are glued to his chest and he knows it- you can’t help but grip his arm, his bicep whenever you can.

Neither of you really enjoyed the club scene, but you had wanted to go out since it had been a really long time and after all, you were on your staycation. Mei had planted the idea in your head, and so now here Jungkook was.

Here he was, catching flashes off the satin, coral colored wrap dress that you were encased in. For someone who doesn’t like the scene, you blend in effortlessly. But you’re a grown woman, so he takes his eyes off of you and orders a round of shots for him, Jimin, Taehyung and Jin while nursing a bottle of soju.

In the midst of the thumping bass bouncing off of the walls in the club, you’re only aware of you and Mei while you both sing along to whatever song is blasting through the club. Mina disappeared a while ago, presumably to find Jimin.

You’re holding two drinks, one in each hand, and all you feel is the vibrations of the club. Along with your own drunkenness. Mei holds your arm to keep you steady as you move your hips in time with hers. You laugh loudly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders at something she said. Everything is amplified and muted at the same time, the swirl of alcohol settling comfortably in your veins.

You’re having a great time with your friends, dancing, swirling, singing and drinking. It’s a nice night to unwind, in the company of dear friends and strangers.

“Hey,” Mei murmurs in your ear, “I gotta pee and I’m gonna go find Seulgi-”

“You can just say that you wanna go find her,” You giggle, “Don’t blame your bladder on it, Mei.”

“Oh, you’re funny. I’ll text Jungkook and tell him to come find you, alright?” Mei says, patting your head. You nod and tell her to go find her girl, and she does. Leaving you to your own devices for a bit, at least until Jungkook makes his way to you.

However, what neither of you realize is that the cell reception in this building is terrible. Mei’s text never goes through and you stay in your bubble, with your two drinks in your hands and bounce along to the music.

You’re not sure how much time goes by, but it feels like you’ve been alone for quite a while. You squint your eyes at your phone to check the time and send a text to Jungkook. A text that never goes through. You frown and are about to turn on your heel to link up with your man (wherever he might be), but you hear a surprised call of your name.

It’s hard to keep the incredulity out of your face when you come face to face with Yunho, the man who had stood you up all those months ago. The air has almost been punched out of your lungs, and you have to squint at him to believe what you’re seeing.

He calls your name again, giving you a wave and a bright smile. “Funny seeing you here, huh?”

“Uh…”

“Can I buy you a drink? I feel like I owe it to you after…” His eyes are sincere. At least you think so, with your drunk goggles on.

“I don’t know, Yunho, it’s okay…” You mumble unsurely, “Isn’t this weird?”

“It’s only weird if we make it weird,” Yunho says and pulls a chuckle out of you.

“Oh, alright. I guess a drink won’t hurt,” You shrug and lead the way to the bar. The least he can do for you after standing you up and hurting your feelings is buy you a drink, you think.

“Hey listen, I owe you an apology,” Yunho says, sliding your drink towards you.

“Oh, it’s- it was a long time ago,” You shrug, avoiding his eyes. Sure, it was a hit to your ego, but in hindsight it doesn’t matter. Not when you have Jungkook. Honestly, you’ve forgotten that Yunho had even been a blip in your radar once upon a time. It was only because of Sora, anyway.

“I had something urgent come up last minute that day and I asked Sora to tell you,” Yunho continues, “I’m sorry I didn’t follow up or even reach out to you after. But I’d heard that you were with Jeon now, so didn’t want to… overstep, I guess.”

And even through your drunken haze, you understand. You sigh deeply, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Oh boy,” You groan, “Sora never told me about that but we’re not close anymore, Yunho. It’s okay, I understand. I’m sorry she got you, too.”

Yunho’s lips part in surprise, “She didn’t… Alright. What’s done is done, I guess.”

“Yeah,” You murmur airily, “And yes, I am with Jeon. Though I can’t seem to find him…”

“I’m happy to keep you company until you do.”

Despite how well you and Yunho seem to hit it off (most of your time spent bitching about Sora), you can’t help but think of Jungkook. You quite miss him, not having seen him all night in the club. You want to dance with him, and little do you know that he’s been scouring the entire club for you in a frenzy once he ran into Mei and Mina and hadn’t seen you with them.

He had sent them a glare, his jaw clenched and walked away to find you. So when his eyes finally land on you at the bar, after about twenty-five minutes of searching and trying to get through strings of people around you, his heart soars. But he sees you laughing with someone else at the bar. With Yunho.

Jealousy is petty, he tells himself. But he struggles to keep it at bay as it rears its head and comforts him. He’s always been protective and possessive of those he loves and cherishes. You’re definitely no exception.

You wobble a little on your feet, but you hold your own. Even from here, he can see the drunkenness of your smile, beads of sweat as they race down your neck to hide in the valley of your breasts. He zeroes in on your necklace (his) around your neck and reminds himself. It’s his necklace that you’re wearing, after all.

Then why is the man who stood you up all those months ago making you laugh like that?

You must have a sixth sense or something for him, because you turn your head a bit as if you can sense him. Your entire face lights up when you see him, in a way that makes his tough heart swell in adoration.

You make your way over to him with your drink and peck his lips chastely, despite his desire to pull you into his arms and kiss you long enough that your knees buckle. So that Yunho sees that he is yours.

“You disappeared on me, baby,” Jungkook murmurs, adjusting your necklace. He’s gripping it tightly, but you don’t notice.

“I was with Yunho, remember him? ‘Member, he stood me up but he didn’t because it was Sora’s fault-”

“That’s no surprise,” Jungkook says, rolling his eyes. You take his hand, squeezing and introduce him to Yunho. As if he doesn’t know him already. Jungkook’s tongue pokes the inside of his cheek, his jaw clenched. He doesn’t like how Yunho looks at you, how his gaze lingers on your skin and the curves of your dress. You lean against Jungkook heavily, absently playing with his fingers. You stay mostly quiet, sipping your drink as the two men speak (rather tersely).

Jungkook knows he’s being ridiculous.

“Kook, finish my drink?” You murmur, offering him the glass. Jungkook maintains eye contact with Yunho as he downs the remainder of your drink in a few solid gulps.

“Was nice to see you, Yunho,” You say, “I think Jimin and Mina are looking for us, Jungkook. Enjoy the rest of your night.”

With that Jungkook firmly holds your waist, keeping you close to him. You both know that neither Jimin nor Mina are looking for either of you. You’d only wanted to be alone with Jungkook.

So Jungkook leads you to a spot where he knows Yunho can visibly see you both. You let loose, giggling as Jungkook twirls you easily and moving your arms to match the beat of the music. He makes you laugh with his moves, winking at you and shooting finger guns at you as he twirls and swivels around you. He’s always been a great dancer, you realize. That’s funny, because you’re sometimes clumsy on your own two feet. He pulls you into him, his chest to your back and his hips pressed against your ass. You sigh contentedly, head lolling against his shoulder and you rest your hand over his hand to let him lead you.

His nose is buried in your neck, lips lightly brushing your pulse. He bites your earlobe gently, earning a soft laugh from you. Jungkook tilts your jaw to the side to meet your eyes and plants a deep kiss to your glossy lips. He holds you steady when your knees weaken, your belly flipping at the intensity that he pours into you.

Jungkook is all around you, encasing you within his arms and there’s not a single place you’d rather be. When you pull away for air, you thumb away your gloss on his bottom lip and bite his bottom lip gently.

“I adore you,” You say dreamily, “You are so… Everything. Everything. I adore you.”

Jungkook’s cheeks burn, but he ducks his head for another sharp kiss. And if Yunho is watching him shove his tongue down your throat and holding your hips to his possessively then that’s fine by him.

The journey back home is a quick one (after you both stop for fried noodles, despite the inevitable heartburn it’ll give you both the next day but you’re both so hungry). You both stumble into your home in a mess of giggles and groping, nearly falling to the floor due to your clumsiness.

Jungkook has been hard since he kissed you in the club, in front of Yunho. He knew Yunho had been watching, feeling the man’s eyes on you both the entire time. His jealousy has crawled back into the box that it was unleashed from, but he knows that’s something to revisit later.

Something else to revisit is that he liked that someone else was watching him with you. He stores that information for later, instead focusing on keeping you upright from falling.

Somehow, through your blurry vision and wobbly legs, you get on your knees and palm Jungkook’s cock through his pants. A shameless moan rips through you- any and every inch of him makes you dizzy with desire.

You like him so much that it nearly makes you cry.

“Gonna blow you now,” You announce happily, fumbling with the button of his jeans and using all of your concentration and strength to pull his pants down along with his boxers. You sloppily kiss your way down his chest, spending extra time on his tattoo and licking (then biting) his happy trail before humming around his leaking cock.

He’s so wet already, and it’s all because of you.

Jungkook groans, eyes closing in pleasure as your pretty mouth wraps around his cock. He thrusts lightly into your mouth, peeling his eyes open to watch you. Only to find you already staring up at him, your makeup smudged and tears already forming in your pretty eyes. He cradles your cheek affectionately, stroking your cheekbone-

But before he can compliment you, softly praise you, he hears a noise. It originates from the back of your throat, something both familiar and unfamiliar. You gag uncontrollably around his cock, and while it’s certainly not the first time it’s happened, it’s different this time. Because you’re a little drunk. So he should be unsurprised when you retch on his cock, pull yourself off of him before your drunk self can get any more vomit on his cock and sprint into your bathroom.

You manage to lock the door in your frenzy of utter humiliation and alcohol addled mind. You hover over the toilet bowl, the sounds of you throwing up bouncing off of the walls. You’re crying, sobbing more like it- from both the pain in your chest from vomiting violently into the toilet bowl coupled with the humiliation of quite literally throwing up on your boyfriend’s cock.

You groan and squeeze your eyes shut, as if that’ll erase the memory.

“Baby,” Jungkook calls softly, his cock fully hanging out in the open, “Baby, please open the door. It’s not a big deal, but I need to wash my dick off.”

You let out a choked, watery laugh at that and move to flush the toilet and rinse your mouth out. Your cheeks burn in embarrassment when you unlock your bathroom door, and you can’t bear to look Jungkook in the eye. But he holds your wrist to his when you try to escape into the safety of your bedroom.

Your heart feels like it’s going to beat right out of your chest, heat flooding your ears in shame. It feels like your head is empty, static filling up the spaces that the silence between you both doesn’t.

“It’s just me,” Jungkook coos, “Do you want to shower with me?”

“Jungkook, ‘m absolutely mortified,” You say flatly, voice a little high in pitch as fresh tears burning behind your eyelids, “I want to evaporate from this plane of existence in about three-point-four seconds, I literally threw up on your penis, I’m so sorry. Don’t even look at me-”

Jungkook winces at your tone and the way your shoulders are hunched, hands gripping the hem of your dress unsurely.

“Baby,” Jungkook sighs, “It’s really okay, there’s nothing to apologize for. Come shower. The vomit is drying on my dick-”

But that’s the wrong thing to say because you start to cry immediately, shoving your face in your hands. Jungkook sighs, mentally kicking himself and running a hand through his purple locks. He calls your name softly and pulls you into his arms for a tight hug, despite the drying vomit on his dick, which is hanging out and brushes against your hip. You sniffle, peeking at him with shy eyes and he rubs your back soothingly.

“When I say it’s okay, I mean it,” Jungkook murmurs into your hair, “I’m sorry I didn’t realize how drunk you were. I know you feel embarrassed, but it’s just me, baby.”

He kisses you, despite your protests, and helps you rinse your mouth again. You allow Jungkook to somehow maneuver you into the shower, peeling you out of your clothes. You feel grimy and sticky from the club and you’re grateful for the cool water against your skin. You stand behind Jungkook, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your face in between his shoulder blades, letting him wash himself.

“Can I wash you?” You whisper, voice unsure. You feel awful, cheeks burning but still. He nods and you take your body wash and lather him with it, washing his now limp dick gently and swallowing nervously.

“See? Not a big deal,” Jungkook says, coaxes you out of your nervousness, “Lemme wash you, baby.”

And so he does, taking your loofah and gently rubbing your skin. Under the cool spray of water, your nerves slip away with each giggle and kiss that he pulls and plants from your lips. Your eyes are still a little shy, a little slick with alcohol. But it’s just Jungkook, and you’re safe with him.

Jungkook nearly wrestles you to get you to eat something more, after throwing up the remainder of your guts after you both had showered (it was mainly just water and alcohol at this point). You’re nearly falling asleep on his shoulder but he manages to shake you awake for a slice of leftover noodles and two glasses of water. But eventually, he coaxes you into eating with a few kisses, hugs, and shoulder rubs.

Once you both are in bed, Jungkook wraps himself around you, his hands immediately drifting below your sleep shirt to your belly. Your cheeks burn as the events of the night replay in your mind’s eye and you press your face into your pillow with a groan.

“I can’t believe I threw up on your dick a-and you’re so nice a-about it,” You mumble, “You really are everything.”

“Well, what else am I going to do if the girl I like vomits on my dick,” Jungkook murmurs, “Don’t worry about it, baby. It happens.”

“To who? Only to me,” You say sadly, “I drank too much. I’m sorry, Kook-”

“Shhh,” Jungkook says, tightening his arms around you and kissing your forehead, “I promise it’s okay. I promise I’m not looking at you any differently.”

His words make you relax in his hold and you nod. Jungkook tilts your jaw towards him, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You don’t say anything else after that, only allowing your soft, breathy sighs to spill out of your lips and into him with every comforting kiss and every slip of his tongue in your mouth.

He tells you to rest in between kisses, but your eyes are already closed.

**************************************

MOM TAGS: @tiemeuptogoldenchains @boymeetsparadise @jungkooksseuphoria @kaepjjangiya @drumsofheaven @ppeachyttae @tae-bebe @yiyi4657 @mygscafe @beeeetsandskzreads @maichiverse @hordanhearsawhooo @anonymous2505 @dreadity @mysugarkoo @ultraanonymousey @moonchild1 @fan-ati--c @yeotan07

TAGS: @kookdbean @codeinebelle

[delimeful]

you can’t go back (4)

warnings: mentioned child neglect/bad parenting, mentioned awkward saucy teen flirting, arguing, emotional upset, the dubious ethics of over-excited teenagers

-

Roman had been acting strange, lately.

It was perhaps a harsh thing to think about his friend, especially considering he was bound to behave differently when the recent disappearance of his twin was taken into account, but it was also true.

Logan had known Roman for years, long enough that it was an effort to search back through his memories for a point that they hadn’t been together, if perhaps not always in the most amicable of circumstances. They’d gone through the entire gamut of enemies-frenemies-rivals-friends, and Logan liked to think that he had a fair grasp on Roman’s tells by this point.

All of Roman’s tells were currently telling him that the other student was trying to hide something, something big.

It wasn’t just the way that he had stopped sulking whenever something happened that reminded him of his missing brother, or that he was suddenly scrawling what almost seemed like notes in a glitter-covered notebook when he hadn’t had the inspiration to work on anything creative in weeks, or that he had all but given up on the pretense of paying attention in their shared classes.

No, the real sign that something was wrong was the way that Roman had begun to outright neglect his two closest friends.

Logan was hardly affected, of course. He was above the base emotions that so many of his peers were constantly fraught with, and less time with Roman gushing in his ear about whatever had caught his interest or complaining dramatically about those who had wronged him meant more time for Logan to focus on what was important, like his AP classes and many, many extracurriculars.

Of course, that didn’t explain why he was currently trailing after Roman on his walk home, when he really should be at violin practice. No matter how much of a soft spot the teacher had for him, he’d gained his skill through hard work, not skipping practice. Certainly not skipping practice to hound off after his erstwhile classmate.

However, he wasn’t the only one being abandoned in this scenario.

Logan Croft had been forced to sit at a lunch table with an increasingly secretive and distant Roman, and a mournful, kicked-puppy version of Patton Hertz, the most cheerful guy in their grade, if not the entire school.

Roman, stuck in his own thoughts as he clearly was, seemed to not notice the effect his lacking presence had had on Patton, and Logan was just about fed up of watching the slow decay of the half life of their little group.

The secrecy was ridiculous. They’d been there when Roman had been so worked up about the ‘police coverup’ that he’d actually considered trying to break into a government building, they could certainly be here for whatever it was that had him so bizarrely clammed up now!

Logan paused from a distance and watched as Roman hurried in through the front door of his house, counting backwards in his head. It would be a fair challenge to try and break into Roman’s room, particularly with Roman in the house, but if his deductions about the seeds constantly caught on his friend’s pant legs and the odd-colored mud left on the soles of his favorite tennis shoes were correct… There!

Sure enough, only a few moments later, Roman was pushing out through the back door, taking an unusually careful moment to close the screen door behind him before turning and walking determinedly down the path into the rural wilderness that made up half of the grounds his family’s farm sat on.

Logan waited until there was little chance that Roman would double back for something he’d forgotten, and then strode confidently up to the front door, rapping on it twice. Going by the fact that there was a car in the driveway and the door had been unlocked when Roman had gotten home from school, someone else was home to answer.

Mrs. Torres opened the door, looking surprised at the sight of him for a moment, before breaking out into a warm smile. “Logan! It’s so good to see you, are you here for Roman?”

“I’ve been meaning to meet up with him for a project, but he left school before me, so I came here,” Logan said, not above lying through omission to uncover the truth. “Is he home?”

“Oh, he just got back, but I don’t think he’s inside-- ROMAN!” she turned towards the stairs and called up them, frowning when there was no response. “He must be out in the yard again. Come in, come in!”

Logan stepped inside smugly, glancing around. The interior was much the same as the last time he’d been here. If it hadn’t been for the pile of faded missing posters under a mug on the counter and his own prior knowledge of the situation, Logan would have been hard-pressed to guess that this was the home of a recently-vanished child.

“Honestly, I’m just glad he’s not staying cooped up in his room anymore,” Mrs. Torres was saying. The woman speaking casually in front of him only added to the eerie composure of the home, and Logan made his way through the general pleasantries and politely refused any refreshments with an unpleasant feeling in his gut.

“They didn’t even bother printing out new missing posters this time,” he remembered Roman telling them with a quiet, bitter sort of anger. “He dyed his hair, and they won’t even pay to put a recent picture of him up when it could be the difference between someone recognizing him or not!”

On a logical level, Logan can understand something concerning happening over and over, repetition dulling it’s effects until it feels mundane or everyday. Roman has mentioned before how his parents believed that Remus was simply acting out for attention, mostly while thanking Roman for being above that, as though the metaphorical ‘good twin’ wasn’t currently building a career on literally acting for an audience's attention.

What Logan can’t understand is that Remus’s parents are apparently completely uninterested in finding out why Remus is so desperate for attention that he would resort to a maneuver he knows will only get him negative consequences.

Logan himself would certainly like to understand. All queries on the matter had garnered only uncomfortable evasion from Roman, as though his friend might have had an idea but wouldn’t say, likely due to irritating personal feelings that Logan couldn’t parse.

So, he’d reached out to Remus directly, on one of the few days that he’d actually attended classes.

The delinquent had been visibly confused by his approach-- the twins allegedly hadn’t had a mutual friend since the beginning of grade school-- and resistant to Logan’s questioning, which Patton had later informed him was likely far too blunt for the situation. They’d gone in circles for a bit, Remus making outlandish or confusing metaphors while Logan refused to rise to the bait, and then he’d made a simple observation about the hypocrisy of the twins’ parents, and Remus had stared at him with an odd tilt to his head for a moment.

Shortly after, he had made a very confusing comment about something that was anatomically impossible, and when Logan had enquired further, Remus had then hared off with pink cheeks and ditched school for a week. He’d asked Roman about the situation, but his friend had only covered his ears with an agonized look on his face, utterly refusing to explain.

Logan shook the errant thought away, and the odd pang of something like regret that Remus had vanished before he could follow up on the interesting interaction.

He turned his gaze away from the unharried setting. The odd dynamic between the Torres family was not what he was here to investigate, not even remotely.

There was only one Torres he was investigating right now, and he had a strong suspicion that his odd behavior had less to do with family than one might expect.

“Go on ahead, I’m sure he’ll hear you once you get out back,” Mrs. Torres encouraged, picking up a particularly irritated-looking calico cat. “Just have to make sure Lady Macbeth doesn’t escape and disturb your little session. Roman’s been worried about coyotes, so we’ve been keeping her inside.”

Logan nodded, though privately he was a little surprised. Coyotes? He hadn’t thought they would be so bold as to lurk at a farm this close to urban areas. Perhaps there had been sightings near here?

He pushed past the creaky screen door with a striking sense of familiarity, despite the fact that it had been quite a while since the three of them had gone wandering together in the foliage and dirt of the Torres farm. Patton’s allergies could be quite fierce, after all.

As expected, walking into the backyard revealed no signs of Roman, even when Logan cleared his throat and called out. He knew his friend well enough to know that he would have reacted audibly to his unexpected presence, so the only logical conclusion was that he wasn’t nearby.

Clearly, it was time to check the perimeter.

He walked in a careful, orderly line next to the old wooden fence, eyeing the peeling paint and refraining from setting his hand on it. He had more to worry about than potential splinters, such as keeping an eye out for any potential strangeness that could explain Roman’s behavior.

There was little to be found in the brush except a regrettable amount of sandburs catching along the hem of his pants, so when he spotted the barn, he felt a surge of excitement.

And if he indulged in a little bit of sneaking, hoping to catch his quarry unaware, that was his business. Roman was loud enough that he could hear him ranting a good few meters from the barn, anyhow.

He managed to make it all the way to the edge of the barn wall before the rant abruptly cut off, and he stalked forwards hurriedly, pushing the door open before Roman could hide anything incriminating.

He needn’t have worried: the evidence was standing there in the middle of the barn, strapped to a support rafter.

It also wasn’t human.

“What are you doing here?” Roman shrilled, taking a quick step to be in front of the creature. It was an ineffective method of hiding it, seeing as what appeared to be long, spider-like limbs were extending in the air a good few meters in either direction behind him.

Logan had known about Roman’s theory, the one that had been laughed right out of the police station. He’d walked with Roman and scoured the fields for any sign of what Remus had mentioned, though they hadn’t found anything. He knew his friend still believed that his twin’s disappearance had been unnatural, extraterrestrial.

Knowing was quite different from seeing an entire alien right in front of oneself.

Roman was still talking, in that nervous chattering tone that he always took on when he was working himself into a truly incomprehensible explanation, but Logan could hardly be asked to divide his attention at the moment.

Extra anterior eyes, odd shiny patches along the sides of the neck, exterior hinges along the jaw, organic plating that had visibly darkened since his first glance-- there was so much that he needed to understand the purpose of, so many questions he had about their origins. How close by was other life? Which star had they hailed from? How had they gotten here?

He was moving forwards without a second thought, enthralled by the way the legs rose up-- like a bird mantling their wings, and they appeared smooth, not hairy as an actual spider’s would be.

“Incredible,” he breathed, and then there was a hand fisted in the back of his polo and he was being yanked away. Where he’d just stood, all four of the strange limbs stabbed into the ground, their reach longer and their ends sharper than he’d anticipated.

There must have been an extra joint closer to their back, the flexible kind that would allow for such an extension. He itched to circle around and look for himself, to confirm his hypothesis before the limbs retracted, but Roman was still clinging to him like a shrieking barnacle.

“What did I just say?!” he demanded, gearing up for a scolding. “It’s not friendly! Do you want to get stabbed into next week?”

“How long have you been keeping an actual alien life form from the world at large? From scientists at large? From me?” Logan shot back, shaking Roman’s grip loose. “Have you had them strapped upright this entire time? Can they talk? How did this even happen?”

Even as he demanded an explanation, his gaze was drawn back over to the alien, taking in their every twitch with endless curiosity. He wanted to know how to read each motion, from the downturn of their chin to the scrunching of their smaller eyes to the way the flat plates where a mouth should be had seemed to twitch. He wanted to know everything.

“It’s been like a week, I didn’t strap them up they came like that, either they don’t speak English or they’re a really good actor, and they showed up in my barn after Remus was abducted, you do the math!” Roman rushed out, edging closer as though he thought Logan was about to try and get closer to the alien again. “And I didn’t tell you because I knew you would do this!”

“This is hardly the first time I’ve almost been stabbed in the pursuit of science,” Logan retorted, annoyed at the presumption that he wouldn’t risk his life for his goals.

“It’s only a little bit about the near-stabbing!” Roman’s voice cracked, and Logan finally pulled the other half of his attention away from the alien to stare. “This is my only lead on my brother, and you’re going to want to-- to-- to put it in a laboratory or National Geographic Magazine or something!”

“I’d be far more likely to write a thesis paper on the matter,” Logan corrected helpfully. Roman’s hands twitched, the body language possibly indicating that he was barely restraining himself from trying to throttle Logan.

“Whatever! The point is, this isn’t a science experiment to me!” His rival’s face was crumpling slightly at the edges. “You can’t just-- just use the alien I found as a ticket to get into some esteemed college while Remus is left to rot in the far reaches of outer space!”

To Logan’s horror, Roman’s eyes had become suspiciously shiny. He floundered for a moment, wishing Patton was there to smooth things over as he so often did, before firming his shoulders and lifting his chin. He could at least try to explain, and hope it didn’t turn out too badly.

“I’m not going to ‘leave Remus to rot,’” Logan started, remembering the recycled missing posters stacked up on the counter. “If you believe that this alien is key to finding out what happened to him, then that should be-- well, our first priority should always be furthering the advancement of human understanding, especially with a discovery as big as this, but I am an accomplished multitasker, so we can do that while we attempt to locate and recover Remus.”

Roman’s shoulders slowly loosened from their frustrated hunch. “You’re going to help me? Seriously?”

“Do you really think I’d joke?” Logan replied, gesturing to his tie. “The more information we compile on this specimen, the better we’ll understand them, and the closer we’ll be to understanding the motives behind Remus’s abduction.”

“And you aren’t going to tell anyone?” Roman asked, looking more hopeful by the moment.

“Why would I? I work more effectively on projects on my own,” Logan answered, the same sentence that had sparked a loud argument between him and Roman in the middle of Biology two years ago. This time, however, Roman looked excited rather than offended at the response. “We really should figure out something to tell Patton, though.”

“That’s… a good idea,” Roman admitted sheepishly. “There’s no way we can let him around an unknown alien fiend, especially not one so… spider-y. You almost got stabbed, imagine what it might do to poor Patton!”

“You handle our story,” Logan decided, turning to look back at the alien fully. “I’ll see what we can do about those extra limbs. We won’t be able to do any sort of up-close analysis with a constant threat hovering over us.”

He straightened his tie, studying the way the extra limbs in question were vibrating just slightly in the air, drawn in significantly closer to the alien's body than they had been before. Despite the movement of the legs, the alien themself was still as stone, all of their attention locked on Logan.

Through observation and experimentation, he was sure that each little motion of theirs would soon become as readable to him as everyday human body language, and from there, real communication would be in reach.

Communication with an extraterrestrial... This would truly be a project like no other.

Fueled by a thrill of excitement, Logan couldn't help but smile.

[redgillan]

Under Pastel Skies - 11

Sugar daddy!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Modern!AU Bucky doesn’t need anyone, especially not a sugar baby. He isn’t that desperate… but she smiles so sweetly and she’s endearingly awkward, and he’s so lonely. She’s an artist, a painter, the type of person who always puts others before herself. Throwing caution to the wind Bucky offers her a place to live, a place where she can finally paint whatever her heart desires. He doesn’t need much in return; a friend, a muse.

Word Count: 6,696

Warnings: Unprotected Sex (non explicit) 

A/N: And finally... Just a word before, and it’s important, I wanted to put the explicit between two ‘*’ but I settled for one at the end because explicit means different things to different people. So whenever it starts to get too steamy for you, skip to the *. Thank you for reading, I appreciate your support!

Wannabe sugar daddies, don’t interact with this post. 

Bucky moved behind the kitchen counter when he heard the door close. You and your guests were in the hallway where you took their coats and asked them to remove their shoes. He took a deep breath to calm himself. He had to stay calm, you depended on him tonight.

“It smells nice in here. What did y-”

Bucky straightened himself up and tried to keep a casual, friendly smile on his face as he came face-to-face with Okoye. He had seen enough pictures of your siblings to recognize them.

She looked surprised to find someone else there. He raised his hand and waved, and she frowned at him in confusion. The rest of the guests stopped short when they saw him waving like a dork. You pushed through them and came to his side.

“Guys, this is my friend, Bucky,” you said. “He’s the one who invited you.”

“Thanks for the invite. I hope you like wine,” Scott said, extending his hand as he walked over to Bucky.

“I sure do.”

Then he shook Wanda and Okoye’s hands, telling them how good it was to finally meet them. Your sisters introduced him to their partners, W’Kabi and Edwin who preferred to be called ‘Viz’.

You led them to the living room while Bucky prepared the drinks. W’Kabi decided to stay behind and help Bucky carry the drinks to the living room. He praised Bucky for having such a nice home.

The conversation seemed to flow easily between your siblings, though as Bucky arrived with your drink, he couldn’t help but notice that you were not participating. You took the glass from his hand, smiled then went back to staring at the coffee table. He sat next to you and rubbed soothing strokes on your arm before he reached for his drink.

Okoye was telling everyone that she had decided to return to New York after King T’Chaka’s passing. His son carried the mantle of the Black Panther, surrounding himself with his father’s Dora Milaje, but Okoye wanted to live closer to her own family.

She was a Dora Milaje, loyal to her king, but she was also a sister, loyal to her family. She felt like there were no good choices, and it ate away at her until her king found a solution to her problem. His little sister, Shuri, was starting her own business in the United States and needed her own bodyguards. Okoye accepted and W’Kabi followed her.

Scott didn’t share much. He showed everyone pictures of his little girl, Cassie, and said he was now working at Baskin-Robbins.

Wanda was evasive about her life and whereabouts. She told everyone that she’d been backpacking across Europe and met Viz, a wealthy businessman, on a beautiful sunny day in Berlin. They’d been attached at the hip ever since.

“And of course, you’re all invited to the wedding,” Wanda said while Okoye admired the ring. “It’s going to be a small wedding. I just need my family.”

“Excuse-me,” you said, standing up abruptly. “I think something’s burning.”

Bucky watched you disappear into the kitchen. He glanced at the group again, no one was paying attention so he followed you into the kitchen.

He found you leaning back against the counter, your arms crossed over your chest, staring into nothing. He walked over to you and pulled you into a one-armed hug that you accepted with a pleased sigh.

“I don’t think I can do this,” you said, your voice muffled against his shirt.

“Is it a code ‘flamingo’?”

“No,” you chuckled, pulling away. You took a deep breath and leaned back against the counter again. “It’s just...”

You huffed, unable to find the words and grabbed him by the waist, seeking his warmth again. Bucky let out a surprised laugh as you squeezed him tightly. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pressed you against his chest.

“I know it’s hard,” he said, kissing the crown of your head. “It’ll be over soon, angel.”

Bucky rocked you side to side in a slow, soothing rhythm until you were practically melting against him. He felt you take a deep breath, your nose buried in his chest. He didn’t want the moment to end, but you’d been gone for several minutes now, and the others would barge in the kitchen soon.

He pressed a long kiss to your forehead and gently pushed you away, his arm falling to your waist. You smoothed out the wrinkles you had made in his shirt without looking him in the eye.

He could tell you were thinking about something but before he could ask what was on your mind, you kissed the slight cleft in his chin and quickly moved away from him.

He smiled to himself, his heart beating a little faster.

You were transferring the dinner rolls from the pan to the basket when Scott poked his head into the kitchen. Bucky was still smiling to himself like a lovesick idiot.

“Everything okay?” Scott asked, taking a step closer to you. You turned to him and nodded. “It’s kinda weird, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“Seeing each other again after all this time.” He leaned his forearm on the counter next to you and smelled the bread. “Baby Wanda’s getting married. Did you know they flew me first class? And the hotel is incredible. I feel like a prince.”

“Viz seems very nice.”

“I can’t believe Wanda backpacked through Europe,” Scott scoffed. “She hates camping.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Bucky watched as Scott leaned closer and whispered in your ear. “Listen, I wanted to thank you for everything you did for me and for Cassie-” Bucky quietly left the two of you alone. It was a private conversation and he didn’t want to impose himself.

He finished setting the table, and soon everyone joined in. Bucky was sitting with his back to the kitchen, W’Kabi sitting next to him. You took a seat across from him, Wanda sitting next to you. Okoye sat next to Wanda, facing Scott, and Viz took a seat at the end of the table.

The food was good, and everyone complimented Bucky on his cooking skills. He said that you had helped him a lot, but you refused to take credit for chopping up a bunch of vegetables. You gushed about his cooking skills and his delicious recipes. It made them salivate just thinking about it.

“And your house is amazing,” Scott said with a dreamy look on his face. “A place like that...” he sighed, “that must have cost you an arm and a leg.” The whole room fell silent, and something that sounded like a foot hitting a shin made the table jump. “Ouch, why did yo- oh.”

Okoye was looking at him with the widest pair of eyes Bucky had ever seen. She looked furious and exasperated at the same time. The others stared at their plates as the uncomfortable silence grew.

Bucky glanced at you, not surprised to find you smirking. You knew he lived for moments like these, and you knew he already had the perfect comeback. As he watched you bit your lip, trying to contain a little giggle, he couldn’t help but love you even more.

“It was the original price but I’m a good negotiator,” Bucky said. “Only cost me an arm.”

W’Kabi was the first to laugh at his joke, then the whole table broke into fits of laughter. Scott looked equally amused and relieved.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t-”

“No problem,” Bucky cut him off.

“Can’t take you anywhere,” Okoye said with a smile and a shake of her head. She turned to Bucky as everyone calmed down. “So, Bucky, strange name, uh? What do you do for a living?”

“My name is James, Bucky’s just a nickname.” He wiped his mouth and set the napkin down. “I’m a writer.”

“A pretty good one, judging by your apartment.”

“I’m all right.” He shrugged. “Literally.” Scott snickered at the joke.

“He’s too modest,” you said. “His books are best sellers. They’re autobiographical, he’s very sincere and honest and funny. He has a way of making you laugh about things that are pretty awful.”

“Yeah, we saw that,” Wanda said with a grin. “Are you working on anything at the moment?”

Bucky shifted a little in his seat. “Yeah, it’s uh,” he cleared his throat. “It’s a very important one. I don’t really want to talk about it. Don’t wanna jinx it.”

He wasn’t going to tell your family that he was writing a book about how he fell in love with you. That’d be pretty awkward.

“I understand,” Okoye nodded, then looked at you. “You’ve been really quiet tonight.” You shrugged. “I thought you were still living with Natasha. Do you still work at the hotel? Where is it again? Chelsea? That’s one hell of a commute from Brooklyn.”

“I wasn’t exactly living with Natasha,” you said. “I was crashing on her sofa. And no, I quit six months ago. I’m a full time artist now.”

“That’s great,” Scott said, raising his glass toward you in a silent toast. “How’s that working out for you?”

“Not too bad. Bucky’s friend is a professional photographer. He helped me set up my website. The pictures he took are amazing. I sold a few pieces online but I’m struggling to find gallery representation.”

“Hey, as long as it pays the bills.”

“I don’t really have to worry about bills these days.”

“What do you mean?”

The room got quiet again, and Bucky could feel the tension in the air, buzzing like static electricity. All eyes were suddenly on you, waiting for an explanation. Bucky knew you were not going to lie to them. He locked eyes with you, and braced himself for impact.

You set your fork down and folded your hands in your lap.

“Well, Bucky and I have an arrangement.”

“I don’t like where this is going,” Scott cut you off.

“I’m not going to beat around the bush and I’m not going to use pretty words to make it sounds more appealing,” you continued as if you hadn’t heard him. “He’s my sugar daddy.”

“You’re joking. Please, tell me you’re joking.”

“Nope,” you replied smugly, popping the ‘p’.

A chorus of voices rose in protest. Okoye and Scott were shouting while the others kept glancing around wondering what had just happened. Wanda was strangely quiet next to you.

“Oh, shut up!” you shouted. “You left me alone. All of you. We were all grieving our brother but it doesn’t give you the right to fuck off when things get tough. Do you know how fucking terrifying it was when mom started to lose her memories? Or when the police drove her home at three in the morning after one of her spells? No, you don’t know because you weren’t there.”

Bucky had never seen you so upset before, and he didn’t quite know what to do but he felt like you needed to get it off your chest.

“I didn’t have friends or boyfriends. I went to class, then got home, hoping mom hadn’t set the house on fire. I took the first decent job I could find because she needed a new home and professional help. Without Natasha I would have been homeless.” You turned to Bucky. “I’m so sorry, I’ve ruined dinner. You’ve worked so hard.”

“It’s okay,” he replied immediately. “I’m with you.”

“God, you’re so nice,” you sighed, then turned to your siblings. “See? That’s the kind of person he is. I was lonely and lost, and I found him and he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. He’s kind and sweet, he’s selfless and generous, and you have no right to criticize our relationship.”

Bucky stared at you, his mouth hanging open a little. Slowly he shook himself out of his trance and reached for your hand on the table. He had no idea you thought so highly of him.

“We needed each other,” you continued. “And I don’t care what you think.”

Dinner was officially ruined but Bucky didn’t care. He smiled at you, soft and reassuring, and let go of your hand when you smiled back. He was proud of you for speaking up, for standing up for yourself.

Bucky noticed Wanda and Viz exchanging looks.

“Okay so, since we’re sharing truth bombs,” Wanda said, shifting a bit in her seat. “I wasn’t really traveling through Europe. I went to Sokovia and after that, everything’s kind of a blur. I did things I’m not proud of. I wanted to forget,” she paused and sighed, “everything. I hit rock bottom, pretty hard, and checked myself into a psychiatric hospital. That’s where I met Viz. He helped me send you those postcards. I screwed up, real bad, but I couldn’t tell you guys the truth. I’m not really proud of myself.”

“I got fired from Baskin-Robbins for yelling at a costumer.”

“Okay!” Okoye exclaimed in her big sister voice. “Enough truth bombs.” She pointed at you. “I’m sorry you had to do this alone, it wasn’t right but we’re here now and we won’t let you down. As for the sugar daddy thing... well you’re a grown woman, you can do whatever you want. Bucky seems like a nice guy.” She turned to Wanda. “We are all dealing with our pain in our own way. I’m not judging you. We’re here for you, Wanda.”

“I know,” Wanda said, sniffing.

“And Scott, stop yelling at people.”

“Yeah, good idea.”

Bucky turned to W’Kabi and Viz who looked proud of their girls, albeit a little uncomfortable with the whole situation. Someone started chuckling, he couldn’t tell who it was, but suddenly the whole table broke into a fit of laughter.

“How about some dessert,” he said. “Then you guys can fill me in on some childhood secrets.”

As he walked away from the table, he heard you warn your siblings to keep their mouths shut. They laughed in response, which made Bucky smile. Surely it’d take more than one outburst at a family dinner to fix your broken bond but it was a good start.

During dessert, he learned that everyone called you ‘Splotchy’ because you painted on the living room walls as a child. He learned that you always wanted to play board games with Okoye. Your favourite one was Mystery Date.

“She had a crush on Tyler, the beach date.”

“No, that’s not true, don’t listen to them.”

When they finally left, you spent a few extra moments hugging everyone. Promises were made, and Bucky couldn’t help but smile as he watched you wave goodbye to your siblings.

It was just the two of you again, and the mountain of dirty dishes and silverware. He told you not to worry about the dishes, but you knew if he went to bed he wouldn't be able to sleep, not when the kitchen was such a mess so you cleaned together.

He loved these moments with you. There was something very peaceful about the night; the dark skies, the soft lights, the quiet apartment, knowing people all around town where getting ready for bed. It used to make him feel tiny and isolated but now, with you, the night didn’t seem so frightening anymore.

A few weeks went by, and things were changing a bit. You spent your Saturday mornings with your sisters, bonding, and facetimed with Scott at least once a week.

Bucky also noticed a subtle change in Sam’s behaviour. He seemed happier and he wondered if his friend had already forgotten Natasha.

It was almost June, and the building’s swimming pool reopened as the weather got warmer. Despite living there for several years, he had never gone near that swimming pool until you dragged him out one scorching afternoon.

The rooftop was surprisingly calm, apart for the group of children playing in the pool. There were people sunbathing around the pool, enjoying a good book, socializing. You dropped your bag on the floor and laid out your towel on the reclining chair.

Bucky had never seen you in a bathing suit before and it caught him completely off guard, but what made him literally growl was seeing the little pendant of your necklace rest against your skin. He didn’t know why but it awoke something in him.

You both slathered on sunscreen before you went for a swim. Bucky recognized a few neighbours, and while they all knew he only had one arm, they had never seen him shirtless before. Bucky didn’t mind their inquisitiveness, as long as you were beside him.

“Do you think the kids peed in the water?” you asked as you rested against the edge of the pool.

“Probably,” Bucky cringed. “When I was a kid, my mom told me that there were chemicals that turned the water a different color when someone pees.”

“Ew,” you laughed.

After a while, he lay out in the sun, enjoying the feel of the sun on his skin. He could still hear you playing water polo with the kids when a shadow passed over him. With a frown, he pushed his sunglasses up onto his forehead.

“It’s nice to see you, James,” his neighbour beamed, taking a seat on your unoccupied chair. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you out here.”

“Hi.” He wasn’t surprised when his voice came out hoarse since he had been on the verge of falling asleep. With the grace of a walrus, he propped himself into a sitting position. “Yes, well, swimming pools are more fun when you’re not alone.”

His neighbour turned to look at you. “Congratulations, by the way. I didn’t know you were seeing someone. Must have been serious if you two moved in together. How long has it been since she moved in? Six months?”

“Seven.”

He knew he should have corrected her, you weren’t his girlfriend, but it felt good. It was just a harmless little lie.

“Does she make you happy?”

“I’m the happiest man on earth,” he replied with a bright smile, then slid his sunglasses back on his face.

His neighbour chuckled quietly. “I can see that!”

When you returned to your seat, his neighbour was gone. You hummed to yourself as you settled into your seat, big droplets of water running down your body. Bucky tilted his head down and peered at you over the top of his sunglasses.

“Where did you get that popsicle?”

“Jealous?” You licked your treat without looking at him. “The kids’ mom gave me one as a thank you for looking after her kids.”

“That looks good.”

“So good.”

“Mind sharing it with me?”

You pursed your lips thoughtfully, then held out your popsicle. As Bucky leaned closer, you pulled it away and jumped to your feet. The look he gave you was one of pure betrayal.

“Oh, angel, you should have never done that.”

He grinned to himself when he saw a shiver run through you. When he stood up, you took a step back. He strutted toward you, his grin predatory. The floor was slippery so you couldn’t go very far.

“Are you ready to share now?”

“No!”  

The popsicle melted down your hand, creating a mess. You turned your arm and licked the drops of popsicle juice from the inside of your wrist. It distracted you long enough for Bucky to wrap his arm around your waist, pulling you against him. You squealed and grabbed him around the neck to keep from falling while also trying not to smush the popsicle against his chest.

You waved the treat in front of his face and he tried to bite off the tip of your popsicle. It made you laugh, your body sagging against him. His face was close to yours. He was so close he could smell the artificial orange scent of your popsicle.

Your laughter died down and your breath caught in your throat when you saw the way he was looking at you. Without thinking, he went for it. He felt your fingers flex against his skin, urging him closer.

His lips were barely a breath away from yours when one of the kids repeatedly slapped your thigh, obviously oblivious to what the two grownups were about to do.

“Come back! We haven’t finished the game,” the kid whined. “Come on!”

Reluctantly, you let go of Bucky and took a step back. Your exhale came out shaky, and in your almost-kiss-induced trance you handed him the popsicle without saying anything before you followed the kid.

You turned back to look at him, one hand sprawled across your stomach, the other across your chest. He knew you were feeling it too: the butterflies, the racing heartbeat, that pleasant heat going through your body.

The difference between like and love.

A week later, he came home to an empty apartment. He climbed the stairs to your studio but you weren’t there. Instead, he found a canvas stretched out smooth and tight on the floor, and several bowls of paint arranged in a semi-circle around it.

He knew you were home, you wouldn’t leave without your phone or bag. Out of curiosity, he went up on the roof and let out a relieved breath when he found you.

You were sitting on the edge of the rooftop with your knees up to your chin and your arms wrapped loosely around your shins. You looked so beautiful in the golden hue of the setting sun.

He stood there, watching you as if he was looking at a painting in a museum. Entranced. You hadn’t noticed him yet, and a quick glance around the roof told him you were alone.  

Slowly, he made his way to you and took in your appearance: a short sleeve white shirt and a pair of denim overalls. The shirt was surprisingly spotless but the overalls were covered in dried paint splatters of different colours.

“I looked everywhere for you,” he spoke softly, trying not to disturb you.

“Did you?”

You straightened up a little but kept your eyes trained on the horizon. Bucky sat close to your feet and let his hand slip under the hem of your jeans to close around your ankle. A sigh slipped past your lips, and he let his fingertips linger for a moment on your smooth skin.

He knew you had a meeting today, and judging by the resigned look on your face, it didn’t go well.

“What’s on your mind, angel?” he said, caressing the top of your foot.

“I was thinking about the night we met. God, I was so nervous,” you said, laughing softly. “I told you that agreeing to meet you was like choosing between a pack of wolves and jumping off a cliff.”

“I remember,” he chuckled.

“I never told you how glad I am that I jumped off that cliff,” you said. “I’d never jumped head first into something, not knowing what was going to happen. Now I think I’m addicted to it. Before I met you, I was living for others. Everything single decision was thoroughly analysed. There was no mystery, fun, or impulsiveness. I put my entire life on hold, and now I see that I can’t do that anymore.”

“What are you going to do?”

You paused, searching for the right words. “I don’t know if I want to turn my passion into a career. Painting is my safe-place, and right now it’s giving me so much anxiety. I haven’t had the inspiration to paint in weeks.” You looked at him and pressed your lips together tightly. “And, if I don’t want to become a full time artist, then I guess our deal is off.”

Bucky stared at you, mouth agape. He really hadn’t seen it coming.

“Please, don’t be angry,” you pleaded. “I don’t want to stop seeing you. When he didn’t answer, you leaned forward and touched his face.

“I could never be angry with you, angel,” he said, kissing the inside of your palm. “I understand, and I’ll help you however I can.”

“I’m not sure yet. I’m still thinking about it.” You looked away from him and stared at the sky. “Do you know that feeling when you stand in a high place and you think about jumping? You don’t want to jump and you don’t do it, but there’s that urge.”

“I think I do.”

“It’s called ‘call of the void’. People say that it’s an affirmation of our will to live. That knowing we’re going to die one day makes us appreciate life even more.” You looked at him. “I want to jump but I can’t. I’m scared.” You lowered your voice. “I don’t want to ruin what we have.”

“You’re scaring me a little. You can’t talk about jumping when we’re sitting on the edge of the roof.”

You chuckled under your breath. “It’s a metaphor.”

“Let’s go home. We’ll make dinner together, put on some music and pretend we’re in a movie.” He got to his feet and held out his hand to you. “Please.”

You took his hand and let him lead you to the staircase.

Once you were inside the apartment, he removed his shoes and you removed yours. Silence settled between the two of you as you entered the kitchen. Bucky moved behind the counter while you stood close to the dining table.

When he chanced a glance at you, he saw you staring into nothing while you played with the charm on your necklace, rolling it back and forth on its chain. You often did that when you were daydreaming.

Bucky walked over to you and placed his hand on top of yours, halting your movements. You let go of the pendant and held his hand instead. He ran his thumb soothingly over your fingers.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he spoke softly.

“If I say it, it’s going to change everything.”

He pressed your joined hands against his chest, over his heart. “No, it’ll make it real.”

He let go of your hand and cupped the side of your face. You leaned closer until you were only inches apart. His thumb traced your cheekbone, then moved to trace the outline of your bottom lip.

He let you come to him, let you take that first step, and when your lips brushed against his, he closed his eyes and sighed. He kissed your parted lips; once, twice, three times, tiny little kisses against your trembling lips.

His kiss grew bolder, turning into something so intimate, so passionate and intense that tears gathered in his eyes. He pressed his mouth more firmly against yours, his large hand still cupping the side of your face. His bad shoulder jutted forward as if his missing arm wanted to touch you.

He let out a groan, frustrated that he only had one hand to finally explore your skin. Sensing his inner turmoil, you held onto his bad shoulder and pulled him against you.

His tongue swept into your mouth, moving in a slow and deliberate rhythm. A growl escaped him and he deepened the kiss, tasting, sliding, retreating and entering again. He poured everything he had into the kiss.

“Bucky,” you moaned after your broke the kiss, breathless.

Hearing his name fall from your lips, your voice hoarse with desire, sparked something inside him. He swiped his thumb over your bottom lip, feeling the softness and collecting the moisture that had gathered there.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, looking positively entranced. “My pretty angel.”

You pulled him in for another kiss and wrapped your arms around his neck, your slightly cold hands felt amazing against his heated skin. He pressed himself against you, letting you feel the rise and fall of his chest, the desperation in the jerky thrust of his hips.

He needed more but he wasn’t going to force you into anything. He was more than happy to stand here and kiss you for hours. He cupped the back of your neck and rubbed the sensitive skin behind your ear with his thumb.

“I’m yours,” he spoke against your lips, his eyes screwed shut.  

You pulled back to look him in the eye, searching his face. He opened his eyes and you saw nothing but honesty in the depth of his eyes.

You untangled yourself from him and took his hand. Slowly, you took a step back, then another, his hand still in yours. His eyebrows lifted slightly when you bit your bottom lip and gave him a coy look.

He nearly growled again, the wolf inside him eager to touch you, feel you, claim you. He stood taller, his chest puffed out and breathing fast.

You led him up the stairs to the second floor and turned on the light in the corridor. You slowly made your way down the corridor with him behind you.

But instead of turning left towards his bedroom, you turned right into your studio, and it changed everything. Your studio was your sanctuary, your safe place, and knowing that you were about to bare your soul and body to him tamed his inner wolf.

You hesitated at the threshold of the room and glanced over your shoulder to look at him. Bucky squeezed your hand to encourage you.

“I bought some body paint on my way home,” you said, letting go of his hand to step into the room. “I wanted to try something different, something more personal. I wanted to use my body to express my emotions, to create something raw and messy. My interpretation of somatic art therapy.”

You moved around the darkened room; bent down to adjust the canvas on the floor and made sure the bowls of paint were still full.

“I sat there and thought of my mom and Pietro,” you continued, barefoot on the canvas. “I only feel sadness and anger, and I don’t want to create something that makes me feel sad. And I realized the only thing that keeps me inspired is hope.”

Turning to face him, you held your hand out, palm up, and his eyes widened at your silent request. Without thinking twice, he joined you on the canvas. It was both soft and scratchy under his feet.

Bucky watched as you unbuckled the right strap of your overalls and slipped the second strap off your shoulder. You tugged your jeans down your legs and tossed them aside, leaving you in your underwear and white shirt.

Swallowing thickly, Bucky let his eyes travel up and down your body. He had seen you in your bathing suit before but this was different. Then he reached behind his neck and pulled his shirt over his head, baring his strong chest, hard abdomen and marred skin.

The room was dark; the pastel sky, visible from your studio thanks to the floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room, didn’t provide much light. The light was still on in the corridor, casting a faint golden glow over the room.

You took a step forward to examine his scars more carefully and Bucky took that opportunity to kiss you again, slowly, intimately. He peppered kisses along your jaw and down your neck, then went down on his knees in front of you and continued his journey down your body, pressing soft kisses to your stomach.

He accidentally knocked over two bowls of paint; the dark colours spilled out onto the canvas, chasing each other. His kisses made you light up with desire, your moans music to his ears as your hands came down on the back of his head.

When it all became too much, you gently pushed him into a lying position and helped him out of his jeans. His belt buckle made a faint clink when you pulled it open, and Bucky swore out loud when you planted a wet open-mouthed kiss right below his navel.

In the back of his mind, he knew he wasn’t going to survive the night. He let his head fall back against the canvas and closed his eyes shut. Your talented mouth sent sharp jolts of pleasure through him, making it difficult to breathe.

He could feel the paint stick to his back, creating the shape of his upper body on the canvas. It was strangely exciting.

He moaned, arching his back, and slammed his fist down on the canvas. His fist landed in one of the bowls of paint. It splashed paint everywhere. He looked down at you and saw tiny flecks of paint splayed like freckles on one side of your face.

It made you both giggle. As he pushed himself up into a sitting position, Bucky left a print of his forearm on the canvas. You climbed into his lap, straddling him, then removed your shirt and bra. You wrapped your legs around him, one hand on his upper arm, the other hugging his neck.

Bucky was sitting on the canvas with his legs outstretched and slightly bent at the knees. He held you against his chest, rocking back and forth, his arm around the small of your back. You sighed together, sharing the same breath.

“You have the prettiest nose.” You let your index finger run down the length of his nose, your finger wet with paint. “So pretty.”

Laughing softly, he brushed his nose against yours and kissed you. He changed the angle of his thrusts, catching you by surprise.

“Does that feel good, angel?” he asked, lightly biting your jaw. You answered with a short cry. “Look at me.” You slowly opened your eyes, your movements faltered a little. “You’re so beautiful like this. You drive me crazy, y’know that?”

“Bucky,” you cried out.

He felt you shiver when he moved his hand from your back to your face. He cupped the side of your face and you immediately pressed yourself closer to him, craving the warmth of his touch.

He stopped your movements and looked you in the eye. “I’d do anything for you. Anything. You’re my one and only.”

He laid you down as gently and safely as he could, and once you were lying flat on your back, he sprawled between your thighs. He supported his weight on his forearm, careful not to crush you. Your hands slid up his sides, and as your thumb traced over his ribcage, a violent shiver went through his body.

He had never seen anything more beautiful than watching you come apart; your eyebrows furrowed, your lips parted in a silent ‘o’, the way your body shook in little spams. Absolutely stunning.

Exhausted, he collapsed on top of you and hid his face in the crook of your neck. You wrapped your arms around him and slowly caressed his back.

After he kissed his way down the side of your neck, he straightened himself up into a kneeling position and looked down at you. Your naked body was on display, covered in paint and glistening under the moonlight. He wished he could take a picture, immortalize this memory.

*

He helped you up, and after another passionate kiss he led you to his bathroom, the two of you leaving colourful footprints all over the clean floor.

The bathroom's bright fluorescent light was harsh and unforgiving as you looked at each other in the mirror. Yet you were both glowing, streaks and dots of paint covering your bodies. Bucky turned on the water and waited for it to get hot.

He wrapped his arm around you from behind and rested his chin on your shoulder. “We look like we blew up a rainbow,” he said, smiling wide when it made you chuckle.

In the shower, you took turns washing each other, laughing and kissing until the water turned cold. You pushed his hair out of his eyes and smiled sweetly at him.

“We’re going to catch a cold if we stay here.”

“Mhh,” he replied, kissing your temple. “You’re right. There are clean towels on the shelf. Go, I’ll be right behind you, I still need to take care of my scar.”

“Can I help you?”

Asking for help wasn’t something he was comfortable with, especially after years of being babied by his ex-girlfriend, friends and family. After his accident, he couldn’t do anything on his own. He had to rely on others and it made him feel like a burden, like he was incapable of taking care of himself.

He knew it was all in his head but he couldn’t help it.

“It’s not exactly sexy,” he said.

“I don’t care. I want to help. Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”

Patiently he guided you step by step through the process of cleaning his stump. You inspected his skin thoroughly, looking for irritation or any signs of infection, then washed it with a mild soap.

He had to admit that watching the woman he loved take such good care of his scar made his stomach fill with butterflies. You looked so focused, so attentive, that he could help but smile and try to kiss you.

“Bucky,” you complained, turning your head away, avoiding his kiss. “This is serious business, stop fooling around.”

He almost said it. I love you. But something was holding him back. He didn’t know what would happen next and it scared him. He didn’t want this to be a one-time thing, but he also realized that things were moving too fast.

“Okay, now you’re shivering,” he said, holding you close, trying to share his body heat with you. “Let’s get out of here.”

He wrapped you in a fluffy bathrobe and patted you dry. Then you carefully dried his scar and applied corticosteroid cream to his shoulder, massaging it gently into his skin. He slipped on his robe and you loosely tied the belt at his waist.

“We should talk about what just happened,” you said, playing with the belt. “What does it mean? What are we going to do? Can we-mph”

He cut you off with a kiss, long and hard and filled with passion. You smiled against his lips and finally pulled away.

“Is that how you’re going to shut me up from now on?” you asked with a grin.

“We’ll talk,” he said, pressing his forehead against yours. “But not tonight.”

“When then?”

“Tomorrow, I promise.”

You looked down at your hands on his belt and nodded. He tilted your head up and lowered his mouth to yours.

“Don’t avoid me tomorrow. Please.”

Your words felt like a knife in his heart, and it left him momentarily speechless. He took one of your hands and pressed it against his heart. “No matter what we decide to do, you’re my angel and I’m yours.”

You shared a long, silent hug before you both decided to call it a night. Once he saw the footprints in the corridor, Bucky felt the urge to clean them. He tried to resist but he knew if he didn't clean he wouldn't be able to sleep.

You understood –you always understood. That’s why he felt so comfortable with you.

Once it was clean, he joined you in the kitchen and made you breakfast for dinner, opening the cupboard and pulling out a couple boxes of cereal you didn’t even know he had.

He told you that he was keeping them for a special occasion. He remembered you telling him that it was your favourite meal as a kid, watching TV with your siblings every Sunday night, eating cereals.

“I can’t believe you remembered that,” you said, tears in your eyes.

The two of you sat on your bed, sharing random thoughts and spoonfuls of cereal. You giggled as milk dribbled down his chin and stained his robe. You wiped at the spot on his chin with your thumb and gave him a chaste kiss.

Your lips tasted sweet. Bucky pulled you in for another kiss, discarding the dirty dishes on your bedside table. You helped each other undress, then slid under the covers where you laid your head on Bucky’s chest.

“Bucky,” your voice cut through the quiet. “Do you mind-”

“Don’t worry, my angel, I’ll wait until you fall asleep.”

“Thank you.”

Part 12

[dreamwritesimagines]

Twisted 20 - The Compass [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves! Here’s the next chapter, I hope you will like it as well, and please let me know what you think of it! ❤❤ Ily, kisses! ❤❤❤

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Murder, serial killers, violence, manipulation, mentions of sex, drinking, smoking, blood.

Word Count: 4000

Summary: Coming home can be unpleasant.

After getting a phone call from the FBI, you were now sure of one thing:

Karma really needed another hobby other than messing with you, and this break up was definitely not going the way it was supposed to go.

For starters, people who broke up with each other were not supposed to see each other this much. You had different lives, different social circles, different jobs and somehow universe kept pushing you two in each other’s space.

To make things worse, the last time you talked to Garcia she had offhandedly mentioned Luke dragging Spencer to a nightclub much to his displeasure and introducing him to a friend of his. Naturally, your mind was full of images of Spencer in a happy relationship, eventually moving to a house in the suburbs with her and having kids and all that.  

“I don’t know what Luke is thinking,” Garcia said, “But I’m two seconds away from pulling him aside and giving him a piece of my mind. Reid is obviously still not over you, ambushing him to introduce him to a girl won’t change that.”

Needless to say, you had been in a terrible mood for the last couple of days.

“What’s taking her so long?” you checked your wristwatch and Nolan looked at you over his newspaper.

“Oh she’s talking to the board of the charity auction,” he said, “There are some last minute changes, apparently.”

You heaved a sigh and checked the time again, “I can’t stay for long,” you murmured and Nolan raised his brows.

“Oh? In a hurry?”

“Me and Spencer and…well, some of his team will go by the woods,” you said, “They found some bones near dad’s cabin close to the weekend house and they think it might help me remember where the rest is buried.”

He made a face, “That’s disturbing.”

“Nah, I thought going on a dead body remains hunt with my ex in the woods near one of my childhood trauma places would be romantic,” you deadpanned, “You don’t do that with your exes?”

“Not really?”

“Oh man you’re missing out.”

He let out a chuckle and shook his head, “I take it things haven’t improved on the heartbreak front?”

“I wouldn’t know, apparently his friend is setting him up with someone.”

“Mm, let me guess,” he mused, “Your plan is to do nothing about it?”

“No, I’m actually following your example,” you smiled at him sweetly, “I’ll just wait for decades and hope the girl turns out to be a serial killer.”

He tilted his head. “Touché.”

“Aw thank you,” you pushed at the food in your plate, “No seriously, what can I do? I can’t just go to him and tell him not to date other people. We broke up— I broke up with him.”

“You could explain the reason behind that.”

“I can’t do that.”

He clicked his tongue, “Well then, I suggest you get ready just in case he happens to ask for your help planning his wedding.”

“You’ve been absolutely no help at all Nolan, I appreciate that.”

“I’m offering you my wisdom and you’re not taking it,” he held up his hands, gesturing surrender, “I also suggested to get his superiors to fix a meeting with him to talk to him about certain boundaries and mistakes but…”

“Get his superiors— I’m sorry, what?”

“I play poker with the head of the department he works under.”

“Of course you do.” You sipped your coffee, “When did you suggest that exactly?”

“Oh not to you, to your mother,” he nodded to himself as he saw the look on your face, “Yeah. But then I saw how it could not only damage some professional relationships, but also it’s better to let young people solve their own problems, no matter how easy it is to solve them with an outsider’s influence.”

You pulled your brows together.

“Try again.”

“I asked your mother and she said no.”

“Oh thank God.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, “Yeah no, don’t do that. We’re not in high school, you know?”

“Could’ve fooled me,” he smiled slightly at the scandalized look on your face.

“Whatever,” you waved a hand in the air, “It’s strange that mom said no though. She doesn’t really like him nowadays, and she keeps listing all his….disadvantages whenever I talk about him.”

“Disadvantages?”

“Mm hm. The other day she said it was maybe for the best in the long run, because he’s an FBI agent so considering his paychecks, we would eventually fight about our future children’s tuition fees.”

Nolan thought for a moment, “She does have a point, considering what FBI pays their agents…”

You blinked a couple of times, “Right,” you said, “That’s exactly why I broke up with him. Because who would be paying for our hypothetical future children’s future tuition fees, yeah. Deal breaker, that one.”

“It could be a contributing factor though—“ he started but you heard your mother’s heels approaching and soon enough she walked into the living room and pressed a kiss on your cheek.

“Darling, I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting,” she told you before pecking Nolan on the lips, making him smile, “This whole charity auction, honestly…”

“Do I have to come to that thing?” you looked between them, your brows pulled together in an attempt to make them take pity on you but your mother tilted her head.

“Yes you do.”

“It’s just that…” you heaved a dramatic sigh, “You know, I’m going through a break up—“

“You’ve been going through a break up for more than a month now, you’re not allowed to use that as an excuse.”

“My heart is broken!”

“Good, focus on charity then.”

You rolled your eyes and turned to Nolan, “What’s the real reason she’s dragging me to this?”

“Oh no, I’m not getting caught in this crossfire.”

“Mom?”

She cleared her throat and sipped her coffee, “The other day when I visited Nolan at work, he happened to introduce me to this very handsome Chief Marketing Officer who’s handling—“

“Oh no.”

“Keep in mind that we pay him more than what FBI pays his agents.” Nolan stated, laughing up his sleeve as if he found it hilarious and you scrunched up your nose.

“Nolan, I know you were born in the eighteenth century but that’s actually not a problem we have these days.”

“He’s single,” your mother said as if she wasn’t even listening and you threw your head back, letting out a whine, “He loves dogs and squash—“

“Jesus Christ.”

“Don’t worry, he’s not sitting at our table,” your mother said, “I fixed another surprise for you at our table, and I figured you’d want to keep your options open.”

“Besides, if your ex boyfriend is moving on…” Nolan trailed off and your mother raised her brows.

“Oh, Spencer has a girlfriend now?”

“No!” you said way too loudly and then cleared your throat, “I mean—I don’t care. But I don’t think so, I would’ve heard it.”

“See? More reason for you to meet other people.”

You pouted, “I hate this so much. I can’t believe I’m being dragged into this nonsense only because you guys are making me, this is seriously bullshit…”

“Y/N, do you want some cookies?” Nolan interrupted your grumbling, “One of my assistants brought them from France the other day.”

You scoffed, “How old do you think I—” you paused for a moment, then shrugged your shoulders, “Actually yeah, I’d love some cookies right now.”

                                                  ***

Unfortunately, when you left your mother’s house you had overestimated the traffic and how long it would take you to get there so by the time you had pulled over by the road leading into the woods, you could only see one FBI car. You didn’t have to wonder who was in it when your eyes caught the sight of Spencer leaning against it and your heart skipped a beat.

“Fuck…” you murmured to yourself and considered for a short second to drive away until others got there, but it was too late. Spencer turned his head, saw your car and stopped dead on his tracks so you heaved a sigh and pushed open the door to step outside. You looked around before you pulled yourself up to sit on the hood before you fished your cigarette pack out of your purse.

“You’re early.” Spencer said and you raised your glances to look at him for a second before lighting your cigarette.

“So are you,” you put the lighter back into your purse, “Came by yourself?”

“Luke is talking with the police.”

“Lovely,” you exhaled the smoke and he crossed his arms, looking up at the sky for a moment before stealing a look at you.

You had no idea what to say to him. After that one day of truce, it was like you were back to being enemies and ignoring each other. The fact that he might have been ready to date another person made you feel even worse if it was possible, especially after that phone call between you. He had said that he was a mess just like you were, he had said you had taken a part of him when you left him, and—

You didn’t even know what you hoped for. You knew it wouldn’t change anything, and yet the thought of him being with someone else was more than enough to make you feel like you were falling off a cliff.

Maybe it was just the truce talking. Maybe he didn’t mean any of that.

Your phone vibrating in your purse made you snap out of your thoughts and you looked at the caller I.D., then frowned and answered.

“Hey, I’m a little busy at the moment.”

“On a Sunday?” Lincoln’s voice reached you, “Who’s the workaholic now?”

“Still you Linc,” you said and Spencer’s head shot up, “What’s up?”

“I just called to let you know that they just moved me to your table.”

You pulled your brows, “I’m sorry, what?”

“At the charity auction. My table was 3, they just e-mailed me to say I’ve been moved to 1.”

“Jesus Christ, you’re the surprise?” you asked, pinching the bridge of your nose, “Somebody needs to stop my mother.”

“Hm?”

“Nothing,” you said, “I…That’s great, we’ll sit together then. If you like sulking the whole night, we’ll be just fine.”

“Come on, it could be fun.”

“I doubt that.”

“Hey, at least you’re not alone.”

“I’ll drink throughout that night, you sure you can keep up?”

“Do you even know who you’re talking to, you amateur?”

“Oh it’s on.” You smiled slightly and he chuckled.

“I’ll see you at our table then. With drinks.”

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” you said before you hung up, and put the phone back into your purse before you felt Spencer’s burning gaze on you, so you looked up at him.

“What?” you asked and he scoffed a bitter laugh, shaking his head.

“Nothing.”

“Professor.”

“I didn’t say anything,” he said, his gaze fixed on the woods and you tilted your head.

“Fine.”

He sucked a breath through his clenched teeth, as if trying to decide whether to say anything or not before you could ask again, Luke approached you two, another car pulling over by your car.

“Hey there.” You greeted Luke as you jumped off the hood and he tilted his head.

“Why are you shorter?”

You motioned at your sneakers, “I figured since we’re going into the woods, heels would be a bad idea.”

“Is this the first time I’m seeing you without heels?”

“Probably.”

“Should we get going?”

JJ stole a look at Spencer and you, then turned to Luke, “Actually, do you mind coming with me to the car for a moment? There’s this file I want to get your opinion on.” She nodded at you, “You guys go ahead if you want.”

You pulled your brows together for a second, trying to understand what was happening but then decided you wouldn’t question it and stepped into the woods, a shiver running down your spine.

It looked way too familiar.

You gritted your teeth and started walking, and it didn’t take long for Spencer to catch up with you.

“So I never got to ask you,” you managed to say after almost ten minutes of complete silence, “That…that blood vial in that petal bowl, whose blood was it?”

“Anthony’s.”

“Right,” you murmured as you kept walking, “Was it….was it something my dad did back then?”

“No.” Spencer said curtly and you looked over your shoulder.

“So then what does it—“

“Are you dating other people?” the words left his lips in a hurry as if he didn’t know how to stop them and you stopped dead on your tracks.

“I beg your pardon?”

He opened his mouth for a moment like he was trying to find the right words but then he closed it and shrugged his shoulders.

“Never mind,” he murmured, walking past you and you gawked after him for a while before you rushed after him.

“No, what was that?”

“Nothing.”

Maybe your whole theory about Spencer being a genius therefore not being able to be jealous wasn’t exactly the truth.

“I’m not— is this about Lincoln?” you held up the phone in your hand before you sped up to catch up with his long strides, “There’s this stupid charity auction bullshit and we’re both attending it, that’s it.”

“Alright,” he murmured, still walking and you let out a breath.

“Spencer!”

“What?” he turned around to look at you, that fire burning in his eyes again, “I said never mind, okay?”

“I’m not dating Lincoln!” you exclaimed “And I— even if I were, at least he’s not someone I met at a nightclub my friends forced me to go, unlike some of us.”

“What does that-” he started but it hit him in a second, “Garcia told you.”

“It came up.”

He raised his brows, “Yeah? How?”

“It just did.” You managed to say even if your cheeks were burning, “So what? You’re going to stand there and ask me that when you’re moving on already?”

“I’m not moving on!” he said as if you had just insulted him, “Besides, you broke up with me remember?”

“Yeah and you wasted no time Spencer, congratulations.” You murmured as you walked past him but as soon as your eyes caught the sight of the huge cabin by the small hill, your breath got caught in your throat and you took a step back, the memory flashing through your mind so fast that the headache hit you out of nowhere.

Your father tugged you by your hand through the woods as you yawned, rubbing at your eyes.

“Are you sleepy honey?”

You nodded, looking up at him, 

“Daddy I thought we were going to come here tomorrow, with mom and Mina.” you said as you hugged the huge teddy bear you had brought with you when your father had woken you up and told you that you would be taking a small trip to the cabin.

“We are,” he said, “We will go back home after our hunt is done here.”

“Yeah but mom says Mina and I can’t be outside the cabin at night,” you murmured, “The lake is too close, remember? We might fall in, she says.”

“She’s right, no leaving the cabin by yourself when it’s dark outside,” he said, “Or else no chocolate for a week, you know the rules.”

“Okay, okay…” you yawned again, and your father knelt down so that you could look him in the eye.

“Petal honey, I want you to pay attention,” he said, “Look around. Let’s say you’re in the woods by yourself and you’re hunting. You know how we hunt, right?”

You took a deep breath, “Stab the prey, twist the knife, pull it back and watch them bleed.”

“Very good,” he said, “When you’re hunting in the woods, what’s the first thing you do?”

“Look up at the sky,” you said, “That’s how I know where I am.”

“Good start. How about if your prey is running to get away from you? How do you chase them?”

“People aren’t calm when they’re being hunted,” you repeated what he had told you, “They make noises. I follow that, and wait for them to tire themselves out.”

He nodded, then you both climbed the stairs to the front door of the cabin.

“And what’s the one thing you remember?”

“To stay calm and patient.”

He smiled at you and opened the door to the cabin so that you could see the bloodied person tied to a chair, screaming through the gag.

“Good,” he said, “Let’s go over what we do with the prey, shall we?”

“Y/N!” Spencer’s voice cut through the memory, almost grabbing you and pulling you back to the reality and it was only when you realized you weren’t standing anymore, instead you were on the ground on your knees, gasping for breath.

“I can’t—“ you choked out, pressing a hand over your chest “I—I can’t breathe—“

“Yes you can,” he helped you sit and lean your back to the tree trunk, “You just need to focus on me, alright? Can you breathe with me?”

You sniffled, trying to match your breathing with his and he nodded,

“There you go,” he said with a smile, “You’re doing great. Is it okay if I touch you?”

You nodded your head, still desperate to cling to anything that would protect you from that memory and he entwined his fingers with you.

“Keep your focus on me,” he said as he wiped the teardrop off your cheek with his free hand,  awakening a fire right beneath your cheekbone, “Here’s what we’re going to do, you will inhale when I squeeze your hand, exhale when I stop. Can we do that together?”

You inhaled when you felt his grip tightening around your hand, then exhaled when it became loose again.

“Y/N?”

You let out a shaky breath, “Hm?”

“Why are public proposals so bad?”

A teary laugh escaped from your lips, “Professor…”

“No, I want you to tell me,” he said as you inhaled again when he squeezed your hand, “Why are they so bad?”

“Because they—“ you exhaled, “They’re not private.”

“They could be romantic.”

“But they’re not,” you protested, “They’re not romantic. They’re pretentious.”

“Pretentious?” he squeezed your hand once more and you took another breath.

“If you need an audience for something like that, you’re pretentious yeah.” You said as the nausea slowly retreated and he pushed your hair behind your ear before his knuckles brushed over your neck, it lasted only a moment but it was enough for you.

“Thanks,” you mumbled and he offered you a small smile.

“Anytime.”

“Brings back the memories, huh?” you leaned your head back to the tree trunk and he nodded.

“Yeah,” he murmured, “Yeah it really does.”

You pressed your lips together, “Spencer, why are you helping me?” you asked him, taking him by surprise, “With….all this. I thought you hated me.”

He swallowed thickly,

“I can’t hate you,” his voice was almost a murmur, “I wish I could. Trust me, I tried.”

“Guys?” you heard Luke’s voice and you turned your head to see them approaching, “What’re you—what happened?”

“We’ll meet you there in a second,” Spencer said, shooting JJ a look and she nodded.

“Okay,” she said, “Come on Luke.”

They walked past you to the cabin and you looked up at the sky for a couple of seconds before willing yourself to focus on him again.

“You remembered something,” he said and you nodded.

“A memory,” you managed to say, “I…Spencer, there are dead bodies in there.”

“I know, we found bones in the backyard—“

“No,” you cut him off, “You don’t understand. There are dead bodies in the cabin.”

He pulled his brows together and you pulled your hand out of his before standing up on shaky legs, still holding onto the tree for support.

“Y/N, we can wait-” he said but you shook your head and made your way to the cabin until you reached the stairs. Every cell in your body was screaming at you to run away, but you managed to force yourself to climb the stone stairs and stopped for a moment at the door as Spencer stepped to stand next to you. Everything looked exactly the same as you had left them all those years ago right before your father was arrested.

A shudder went down your spine, the same as the one you had gotten when you woke up in your apartment after being drugged. Something in here was way too dangerous for you and it wouldn’t rest until you were at its mercy so you had to get away before it could dig its claws under your skin, but-

You had to do this. You could do this.

You had been through much worse than this before.

You had survived your father, you had survived his copycats, you had survived everything thrown your way so far, you could survive this as well.

You rolled your shoulders back and stepped into the huge living room, the memory pushing at your mind but you shook your head, forcing yourself to focus.

“We can leave if you want,” Spencer murmured and you dug your fingernails into your palms hard enough to hurt.

There was a reason why police couldn’t find anything in this goddamn place when they first checked. You had repressed the memory just like you had repressed the rest, and now that you were here…

The memories about the cabin were swirling in your head, each more terrifying than other.

“Luke.”

Luke turned his head, “Yeah?”

“Do you mind stepping aside for a moment?” you asked, “Actually, if no one could—if no one could stand on the rug that’d be ideal. Thanks.”

JJ shot you a look but nodded at the two other agents walking around the living room and you slowly approached the magnetic chess board by the coffee table, holding out your hand over the pieces for a second. Panic roared through you but you gritted your teeth and moved the pawn, then put the bishop where your father taught you to put it way back then.

“It’ll be like a treasure hunt, but you need to keep it a secret,” he had told you, “Pinky swear?”

You turned the queen in hand your for a moment, then put it right next to the bishop and the small basement trapdoor which was impossible to see even if someone was looking for it clicked under the rug. Spencer froze for a moment before he and Luke pulled the rug off the floor and pulled open the hatch but the smell coming from downstairs made you cover your mouth.

“Stay here,” Luke told the agents as he went downstairs and Spencer followed him right before JJ did. You stalled there for a moment, trying to repress the fear pinning you to your spot before you stepped closer to the stairs leading down to the secret basement.

“Miss—“ the agent said but you ignored him and made your way down. JJ and Spencer already had their flashlights on as Luke held his gun, ready to pull the trigger at any unexpected movement.

“You can’t be here.” Spencer told you but you weren’t even mood to snap back at him. You dragged your fingertips on the wall until you found the switch and turned the light on, the smell getting worse and worse.

There were three huge boxes by the wall, all tightly shut and you had a feeling—

No, not a feeling. What you had was a memory and you knew exactly what was in them.

Spencer turned to you, apparently ready to tell you to go upstairs again but as soon as his eyes caught something over your shoulder, he froze, his jaw clenching. You could feel your heartbeat getting faster and faster as Luke stopped dead on his tracks.

“Y/N, go upstairs.” Spencer said, his tone way too controlled until you turned your head, “No wait, don’t look—“

But it was too late. The bloodied message on the wall made you gasp as you took a step back, unable to look away as that familiar dread filled you once more, the simple line causing goosebumps to rise on your skin;

Welcome home Petal.

                                 Chapter 21 

[i-need-air]

"Dude" — Bakugou Katsuki x Reader [P.2]

Word count: 6.7k;

[ Part 1 ]; [ Masterlist ]

The new message plastered on your phonescreen earned a small smile from you. After a couple of days of sitting together at the same table due to Mei dumping your lonely ass for her babies, Mina suggested to text just to keep in contact more often. Something you did not expect was to be thrown in a group text with her and her friends.

They were absolutely hilarious; until recently they found out you had decent grades and started asking for your assistance, bugging you to join their study sessions, adding something about Bakugou being an absolute beast whenever he tutors them.

Pinky: Aww sucks that you're not coming! You're missing out Bakugou strangling Kaminari lmfao

You rolled your eyes in amusement. Why of course he'd be doing that.

What a strange little man. He really was; just as you started sitting with them, he'd mainly mind his own business, wearing his normal resting gremlin face and poking his food as if he was practicing murder just for the sake of it. First he orders you to sit with them, then he turns into an antisocial bastard most of the times. Yet, somehow, lunch with them was delightful and you found yourself looking forward to spend time with them, hear about their amusing stories and to top it all, making fun of The Great Bakugou Katsuki turned the whole event into a whole different level of fun.

As you weren't completely oblivious, his wandering eyes were really hard to miss anyway; you'd catch his gaze from time to time and he'd look away, annoyed, grunting like the man-child he actually was. Infuriating; how your heart skipped every single time it happened and how you wanted to have those deep crimson orbs on you again and again.

One thing you did not want to do was to leave Mei to the side; whenever she couldn't hang out she would inform you and you'd find something else to entertain yourself with; in occasions you did march in her workshop and sat your royal ass down without permission. Like as you did today, sitting in silence, you enjoyed the normal machinery sounds and her focused hums as she worked with you by her side. It was calming. The much needed calmness that you craved.

It's been a couple of weeks after the glorious incident and you have been noticing how your classmates, mostly the popular ones, started giving you the stink eye; your spidey-senses very much aware that it had to be Midori's doing yet the girl was keeping a very low profile. The hairs on the back of your neck rising whenever you thought about her next step because this level of radio silence was suspicious.

Between your growing interest into the blond and the dread related to your nemesis, Mei stopped her hard work to frown at you.

"Something's on your mind?" She probed, adjusting her goggles better on her head. "You're awfully quiet~"

Through a small giggle, you nodded but took some time to answer. "I guess?"

"Let me rephrase that." She cleared her throat dramatically "Someone's on your mind?"

A sharp gasp left your lips, realization kicking in; you had Hatsume Mei's full attention for the first time ever. In the workshop. Where her babies were! About to point it out, she narrowed her eyes at you, zooming onto you.

"[Y/N]." It's all she needed to say before you looked down, mind on one person in particular, not noticing how your friend smiled fondly to herself as she placed her hands on her hips; she chuckled lightly.

"Mind sharing what's funny with the class, Mei?" You asked trying to decrypt her expression still locked on you. She shrugged and shook her head, her wild pink locks moving wildly.

"OI, WERD—" the brash voice interrupted itself in reconsideration. The owner of said voice clicked his tongue and entered her workspace with indifference, looking around. "My gauntlets fixed?" He asked, curiously checking the lone couch in the corner, then turning his glare at her.

Ignoring his question, Mei's inquisitive gaze locked on him. "Are you looking for someone?"

It was as if she pressed a Total Destruction button because even the hairs on his head spiked up more than normally as he threw her a bloodshot glare.

"WHY THE FUCK WOULD I LOOK FOR [Y/N]?! I DON'T EVEN CARE WHERE—"

"I didn't mention [Y/N] at all though." she cheerily retorted, seeing his position stiffen even more.

"WHAT— WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT— WHO EVEN IS [Y/N]?!" Word-vomit took over; he was shaking at this point, panicked and cringing at his own mistake. "I'm SO FUCKING DONE with people giving me SHIT about that dumbass!" he kicked a table trying to prove a point but the girl was unimpressed.

"So you do know [Y/N]."

"YOU KNOW WHAT? FUCK YOU, GOGGLES! Fucking bothersome assholes always buttin' in—" his voice started fading into the distance as he walked out, fuming with nerves.

She blinked before screaming "What about your gauntlets?" through a smile.

"OH, FOR FUCK'S SAKE, GIVE ME—" he appeared once again, agitated.

A wave of lava filled your chest as she told you casually, even trying to copy the way he talked, making you laugh in exchange. You shouldn't feel that way, shouldn't you? It was ridiculous since he truly only insulted you and screamed in your general direction; well, it seems he screamed in every direction but it wasn't the point. The point was the warmth in your chest only gave you hope and the still functioning part of your brain begged to differ.

"He's a good guy." You whispered, suddently shy under Mei's knowing gaze.

And he called her Goggles too. You giggled fondly.

—

A few days later, wild gutural screams made you jolt from your desk in panic. You would've recognized that voice anywhere by now so you rushed towards the infirmary door just to find professor Aizawa and two cocoons made of his scarf behind him. His eyebrow was twitching and had a dark aura around him, eyes glowing menacingly but not directed to you.

"I'll fucking kill you—"

"But Kaccha—"

"Silence." The irritated and tired looking man said entering the room, dragging said cocoons behind him, knocking one in the door and pulling harder. You cringed, sure thinking he wasn't having a good day.

"OOF— What the shit was that?" The bundle started to shake uncontrollably which made you giggle. It stopped; halted and froze in place listening attentively as you tried to hide your laughter, trying not to annoy the teacher that seriously gave off a whole Done with life aura.

"You must be [L/N]." he pointed out, undoing one of the cocoons, a big fluffy broccoli like head appearing, big green eyes trying to focus.

"Yes, sir."

"They're beaten. Broken leg and broken rib. Can you heal them or should we wait for Recovery Girl?" The dark haired man went straight to business.

"I can handle that so no need to wait for her."

"Good. I'll leave them in your care." With a nod, he also released the blond, making him tumble and fall on his face. The poor guy groaned but bolted up with a raised fist.

"Behave." The older man said walking away, not really caring about Bakugou's heated muttering. The door shut gently and you found yourself looking at two boys; one fuming and avoiding your eyes, the other on the floor, staring up at you. His leg looked wonky so you fought back a face of discomfort before going to his aid.

"You." You pointed at Bakugou then at the bed. "Sit." A grin spread on your face as you used his words, meanwhile you leaned down to help Midoriya Izuku.

His eyes were absolutely intimidating, as if the boy tried to search within your soul as you helped him up.

"My name is [L/N] [Y/N] and I'm going to heal you today." He returned your smile with ease and nodded, his fluffy green hair shaking through the action.

"I'm—"

"Midoriya Izuku, yes. You're pretty popular, you know?" His face went all red, taken back by the fact.

Curses could be heard behind both; your hand was supporting Midoriya's weight as he only hopped ahead with his good leg, leaded towards a bed. Shuffling sounded too, still accompanied with another round of indistinguishable curses and grunts.

When the green-haired boy was securely placed, you turned towards the other, finding him sitting on the edge of the bed furthest away from Midoriya, pouting adorably.

"So you've got a broken rib, right?"

"What's it to you?" It was his turn to be a petty little shit and copy your words, still not looking up. His leg was shaking and his posture looked uncomfortable so it was not the time to get into your usual bickering.

"Lay down." He tsk-ed sharply. "Please." You pleaded, pursing your lips at his childish attitude. He finally snapped his eyes on you, just slightly widened in what could be surprise but you couldn't tell. All that mattered was that he ended up doing what you said. Though with more huffing, as if it bothered him immensely.

"Ya happy now?" He snapped.

"Very! Now—" you're taken back yet again by the intensity of those green eyes that looked between you and Bakugou with interest. "I'm gonna have to give you an anesthesic and adjust your leg back in place before healing you—"

Like a working bee, you ran around the infirmary getting your syringe ready, a little bit too nervous as two pair of eyes burned into your back.

"Where do you know each other from, Kacchan?" Izuku asked. Even if his leg hurt like a bitch, he couldn't help but be curious about the person Kacchan has been having lunch with for the past weeks; but what type of response could you get from the one and only?

"Mind your own damned fucking business!"

You sighed, irritated but the nickname didn't fly above your head. In all means, he shouldn't be screaming. He had a broken rib and he was screeching like an idiot. Didn't it hurt to even breathe?!

"Bakugou, you need to lay low and shut up."

There wasn't any time to play around; Midoriya behaved exemplary, just barely wincing at the syringe probing his knee but did not complain at all. The polar opposite of the blond beds away.

After letting the anesthetic to take effect, you moved towards the guy that's been living rent free in your head. He looked beaten up, had a bloody nose, open-wounded knuckles and shaky hands.

"Okay, I need you to relax." You whispered, trying to lift his tank-top but he stopped your wrist.

"The fuck yOu doing?!" his voice cracked momentarily while hyperventilating.

"Dude, take slow, steady breaths. In order to heal you I need to touch the skin closer to the wound." It wasn't entirely true but not exactly a lie either. After a pause for consideration he nodded but his eyes remained wary. "You've seen me do it before! Now show me where it hurts."

You needed concentration, focus, steady hands, rock-hard abs and tanned skin— Nooooo, [Y/N]!

All your might; all of it to act nonchalant and professional, to not fucking stare like a degenerate because he was absolutely built. But you couldn't help it. You couldn't help placing your palm on his ribs gently, instead of just the tip of your fingers as you normally would've needed. His sigh of relief made you incredibly giddy, feeling accomplished and fulfilled knowing you've done a great job for him. You also couldn't help healing his most visible wounds one by one instead of doing it all together in one single touch.

Were you flustered? Definitely and his attention only made it worse. You picked one of his hands and he spasmed away but ultimately gave in with a choked grunt; then grabbed the other and channeled your energy into his body.

Your heads were tilted downwards, both staring at how his knuckles healed slowly. What neither him or you noticed was how all his scratches and bruises all over him healed too, or the prying eyes of a third wheel that was already taking notes of your quirk.

"Okay." You whispered, not really wanting to let go. Your brain screamed Dishonor! but your heart skipped a beat, then another, then exploded when you lifted your gaze.

Crimson eyes looked at you in awe, wide and never this clear. They were shining too and you couldn't help but give his strong hands a squeeze, feeling in the calloused skin of his palm and wondered which one of you was shaking... He blushed then and opened his mouth, yet his brows furrowed as his focus shifted behind you.

"THE FUCK YOU STARING AT, PUNK?!"

Oh, yeah. Your other patient.

In a heartbeat you were by Midoriya's side and got to work, chest heavy and no words coming out of you. No snappy or cheeky retorts either, just trembling hands and warm cheeks. Only with murmurs you guided him through the procedure before healing him completely.

Dizziness overtook you; the downside of your quirk and something you've been training with Recovery Girl for the whole semester.

"That was amazing, [L/N]-san! Thank you!" The boy cheered, staring down at his leg in utter disbelief. His compliment made you grin, full and proud.

"Of course it was!" Your normal self surfaced.

"Fucking woo-hoo." Nevermind. Mood dropped and your face did too.

"Well, since you've been a good patient—" you start and ruffle through your bag "You get a lollipop!" Said candy was thrown in Midoriya's lap and he stared at it baffled. Meanwhile you turned towards the bane of your existence and raised a brow, shaking another lollipop in your hand. "You don't. This one is mine because I deserve it."

His angry, stupid and scandalized expression was everything you were looking for. Did you get out of your way to buy lollipops knowing Bakugou would end up in the infirmary sooner or later? Maybe. Was it worth it?

"What the fuck does that mean, dammit— I—" words caught in his throat as he choked with air, looking at the candy in your fingers with murderous intentions. Definitely worth it.

"Thank you?" Broccoli Boy asked but started unwrapping it, probably not to insult your kindness, and the whole interaction fueled Bakugou's anger. He snapped out of the bed and so did Midoriya, but one was marching towards you while the other just wanted to run away in fear, direction Exit.

"Gimme that shit!" He tried to grab it out of your grasp, but you moved away, laughing at his face.

"Midoriya has been nice and thanked me for the healing—" at this point he was boiling. "Say Thank you, [Y/N], you're amazing and awesome and—"

"LIKE FUCKING HELL IMMA SAY THAT, DUMBASS!" he was so sweet, the guy you liked; yeah, your sudden realization hit as he looked like a tomato ready to bite your head off and the only thing you could think was how adorable and sweet he was. All gurgling in rage, spitting cussed words left and right; dreamy, he was dreamy. He caught the lollipop from your hands, his scowl turning into a full blown victorious grin. So shiny... so bright... God, he was so handsome...

You're suddently falling in his arms in slow-motion, the world around you twisting and turning with him in the center of it all. Warmth engulfed your frame as you hit the most comfortable pillow of your life. His chest.

"Oi, [Y/—" he cursed, taking no time to place you on the bed with ease. "You okay?"

"W-What happened? Is she okay?" It seemed the famous Deku decided to remain for the spectacle.

"Get lost!"

Even if you wanted to pass out, his snaps wouldn't let you and with that thought you chuckled breathlessly. "I'm fine, I just need a nap after healing this much..." you assured into the air.

"Will you be okay, [Y/N]-san?" You turned your head until you spotted him and nodded through a smile but someone else answered for you.

"I see you took matters in your own hands." The sweet, gentle voice of your mentor put you to ease but scared poor Midoriya to the core as she appeared behind him at the door. Bakugou was still hovering over you in bed, not really knowing what to do. "You should leave [L/N] rest, boys." With tiny steps she walked around, not really paying any more attention to the scene.

The blond gave you a glance and pursed his lip, analyzing the candy in his hand. Through half-lidded eyes you saw him secure it in his fist and give you a nod. At this point everything was blurry.

"Thanks... or whatever." He didn't waste any time to bolt towards the door, his broad uncovered shoulders were the last thing you saw before closing your eyes in contempt.

"Kacchan, is [Y/N]-san your—?"

"MIND YOUR GODDAM—" the door shut close, making the room tremble and you giggled like a drunk fool.

—

Bakugou walked with his hands in his pockets, looking around with little interest as Dunce Face and Racoon Eyes blabbered without pause to breathe. Fuck, he was exhausted and the concept of shoving food down his throat sounded fucking fantastic. His insides turned and twisted knowing you'd be meeting them soon.

"Yo, isn't that [Y/N]?" Like a flash, his head bolted in the direction Denki pointed at and before he spotted you, the blond already wanted to punch himself in the jaw. Why the fuck is he acting like that? The answer faded in his mind as the scene unfolded in front of him.

—

"You're such a fucking bitch, you know that, [Y/N]?" Arms crossed, you placated the poor first year that was whispering behind you.

"Wow, Midori, so original." With a dead tone and rolling eyes from you, the white haired demon only twisted her face in disgust. "My feelings are hurt."

"Who do you think you are? You're a fucking nobody, [Y/N]! You think you're doing any good here? Go kill yourself!"

"And give you the satisfaction? No, not happening, you fork-tongued lizard." Your nails looked interesting.

Her pale purple eyes got ignited and her diminute frame puffed, like a rabid little mole-rat ready to bite someone. And just like that, she took a deep breath and started yapping and barking. "YOU'RE BETTER DEAD ANYWAY, YOU WHORE! YOU RUIN EVERYTHING! NOW EVERYONE IS TALKING ABOUT ME! ABOUT HOW YOU STOLE HIM FROM ME! DIE ALREADY!"

Sadly you didn't have any cookies on since you definitely felt like shoving one in her fanged, venomous mouth and patting her head for the effort. Your lips turned oh, so slowly into a grin, enjoying her reaction way too much.

"That's nice. Now can you like, I don't know, go back to making potions with your coven or some crap? Leave the kid alone—"

"This pathetic little shit was talking about me! ME!" her screech hurt your ears so you covered them before you turned to the kid to just see him standing there, petrified.

"Did you try to summon Satan and she appeared instea—?"

"I'M SO FUCKING DONE WITH YOUR CRAP, YOU—" she pushed you but grasped your uniform, a ripping sound following. "UGLY—" nothing prepared you to get attacked by her. "FAT—" she raised her palm. "WHORE!"

No way in hell you were going to back down, instead you clenched your jaw and got ready to block it and finish the fight. She never remotely attended to hit you in a somewhat public place as she was a careful witch, always brewing something in that rotten brain of hers and making sure to keep her sweet appearance on point for the public.

You blinked.

"That was insane!"

The scenery in front of you suddently changed with that one single blink and a tall blond mass of muscle just popped out of nowhere. It knocked the air out of your lungs for a moment and seeing him staring down at her with such hatred, holding her wrist high in the air made you feel immense relief, much to your own surprise.

Were you that tense before?

"Midori-chan, I didn't know you were this rotten." Kaminari appeared in your field of vision too but got ignored by the girl. Her only goal was to free herself from Bakugou's grip but he wouldn't bulge.

"Y-You got it all wrong, Bakugou-s-san!"

Everyone stood there silent, utterly disgusted with her attempt to even try to twist reality.

"Don't even fucking think about it." He warned and those words rumbled deep, threat held within.

"We heard it all, Midori." You shook in place, twisting to see Mina by the kid's side, patting his back. After being used to seeing her easy-going attitude it was only natural to be amazed by her somber tone and serious manner.

Why were you so relieved? kept creeping in your mind. Why?

He then threw her wrist out of his grasp and bared his teeth in her direction, globes so bloodshot scrutinizing her. He oozed rage and fury and was combusting in place. But he did not scream. Bakugou Katsuki did not scream for once when he started talking, instead he growled his words, each with care and clarity.

"If i ever fucking hear you talking like that to anyone ever again I will— fucking— break you." you could hear his teeth grit, the sound making you shiver both in terror and excitement. "NOW GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY FACE! I BETTER NOT FUCKING SEE YOU OR HEAR ABOUT YOU EVER AGAIN!" she yelped, fluttering her tears away and scurrying so fast it could've been comical.

Bakugou then spun to study you, chest raising and falling heavily. You couldn't descypher his appearance at the moment; there was the aggravation, the outrage, the burning flame in his orbs but also... Uncertainty? Guilt? Shame? It wiped off his face before you could figure it out.

"We're taking him to talk to a professor about what happened." Mina's voice faded in the distance. He nodded at Kaminari, who was behind you, and got a nod in response plus a pair of thumbs up, and with that they were gone.

He still tried to control himself, but as soon as you parted your lips to say anything at this point, he snarled into the nothingness. "THAT FUCKING BITCH—"

"Bakugou..."

"FOR HOW LONG?" he then screamed at you, malice gone but tone just as rough and loud.

"For how long what?" You said calmly while also noticing and adjusting the ripped sleeve of your uniform. He ran his palm over his face, eyeing it too.

"For how fucking long has this been going?"

"Oh, her—" there was this pressure to say it out loud, to confirm what it really was, like saying it out loud would give it weight, importance...

"Her bullshit, yeah." he didn't force it either, thankfully.

"Since we were in middle-school." you shrugged, chest and neck aching without an apparent reason. You cleared your throat.

"Stop that— Stop that fucking shit. Don't do that." He got close to you in a single step and you had to look up at him, feeling so small out of a sudden by his side. You smiled, as you taught yourself to do whenever things got tough.

"Do what?" It came out shaky, too shaky for your own taste but he was so close.

"Act like it doesn't fucking matter! Like it's no big fucking deal!" His breath fanned your face.

"I mean..." you started shrugging again but he stopped the action, palms holding your shoulders in place as he gave you a pissed off look. "It doesn't really matt—"

"YES, IT FUCKING DOES!"

His fingers held you in the spot as he inspected your features with a clenched jaw and classic furrowed brow. Flames erupted in your ribcage at his words and you couldn't even breathe anymore.

You licked your lips, not sure if you could say the next words but the fact that he focused on the action too attentively gave you the push needed. "What's it to you?"

His breath hitched, fanning over your face as he stiffened. Deep crimson waved between your own orbs and your lips—

Those flames? The flames that burned your inside? They were spreading throughout your body rapidly, the epicenter at the spot where his thumb caressed your skin at the edge of your shoulder, just touching the start of your collarbone. Even through the layer of fabric you felt it, as tiny as it was, but he did not do anything, just stood there with red tinted cheeks in daze. Much like you were.

"Thank you for saving me today, Bakugou." You whispered and he just nodded, still enthralled with your lips. At least you knew he was somewhat still there with you. Involuntarily, you bit your lower lip, just a little, smiling softly, taking the smallest step towards him; the corner of his lip turned up slightly—

"[Y/N]! Director Nezu wants to talk to you too!"

The spell was broken; you yelped into him, grabbing his shirt for support and checked your surroundings. A waving hand caught your attention; Kaminari was signaling you to go to him then froze and started running away; little did you know someone was sending him a death glare.

You cleared your throat, still warm and fuzzy from head to toe and separared from the blond that caught you in his arms. Bakugou seemed to have noticed the position too because he jerked away a step back and looked completely out of place.

Ridiculous. And hilarious, looking anywhere but you and still made no attempt to move. Neither did you, instead opting to hide a giggle.

Because you felt warm, tingly, all while he was a complete gremlin, sweet in his own personalized way, in which he cared for you, he defended you.

And you're in disbelief because how come this guy, this adorable, blushing porcupine with anger issues made you feel so soft and fragile? How did you end up in this situation and how can you stay in it forever?

"What's so fucking funny, hah?" There wasn't any bite to what could've been an aggressive wording, just hidden tenderness. He fought a smile too and had the audacity to try to act annoyed. Sadly, you had to go, so you shook your head and took a step back.

Bakugou understood, so he nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"I'll see how later, ok?" You promised and he glanced at you from the corner of his eye. Now you had his ear in full view for you to see the tips reddened too. You want to melt, even coo at the sight, but you really did have to go. However, you couldn't leave without sending him a cheeky smile.

"Yeah, whatever." His jaw sinked a little in the collar of his shirt as he stomped away too.

—

The whole afternoon was spent talking to a counselor and to the principal himself about a problematic individual. The first year student was encouraged by your new friends to report it as they escorted him to safety and soon an internal investigation started; maybe, possibly because of you.

Why were you so relieved?

Because they listened to you. Because they believed you. Because you didn't have to prepare yourself every single morning to take verbal hits from all directions. Because you've been given a voice, unlike your old school where everything was brushed off; "It's your word against hers" and much more bullshit. No, this time was real and they proved it by listening to every single word you said.

You were dropped at your dorms just before 9 P.M. and it was too late to meet anyone at the point. But it wasn't important; the moment you landed on your bed a smile broke on your face, a few tears fell and you had the best sleep in forever.

—

The air changed. The aura around your class switched. Midori was clearly missing, which instantly turns a bad day into a fantastic one, but it wasn't only that. Students were called, one by one, again and again interrupting class and took hours to come back. Meanwhile the Divas in particular looked concerned, another great view to enjoy now and until the rest of time.

It was obvious why this was happening and you never felt this much peace and satisfaction. Even so, you started to feel overwhelmed because people suddently started greeting you. The people that weren't in Midori's toxic and constricted entourage.

They said your name! Without hatred! The school's goldenboy's name, Kaminari Denki, was dropped again and again too. It seems he just casually started mentioning what he witnessed the day before and you suddently felt the need to hug him tight. Gossip spread like wild fire thanks to him, after all.

Maybe you fell into a parallel universe but you couldn't bring yourself to care, you just waltzed on the hallways after the bell rang, wanting to go get some food, then hide at Mei's workshop for some recharging. Another part of you wanted to meet the explosive boy too, though.

In all honesty, it didn't matter where you ended. You were in an incredible mood.They talked to you and it was exhausting but nice!

Was this what it felt in horror movies when the demon-child with rotating head and projectile vomit was finally exorcized? Was the curse really released for good?

As you floated in the skies, high on life and what-not, you turned the corner just to run nose straight into a wall. Your brain decided to take a break for the day, it seems, and you genuinely hoped nobody saw you march head first into— It wasn't a wall, but a boy that gave you a raised brow and narrowed eyes.

"Watch where the fuck you're going, dumbass."

"Great to see you too!" you chippered, walking around him, knowing for a fact his attitude wouldn't be able to piss you off—

"What's with the idiotic expression?" Nevermind, he can go fuck himself. Yet you smiled because you're a Godsend angel and that's what winged saints do.

"Just really happy." You shrugged, walking away with ease and tried to bite a bigger smile off your face when you noticed him turning to walk with you. "What are you doing on this side of the campus?" You inquired.

"Came to walk you to lunch or whatever." Well, damn, that made you halt in surprise. He's behind you, staring out the window with disinterest but froze when he saw your dumbfounded face. "WHAT? IT WAS IN MY WAY, OK? Want me to leave? I can leave! You can fuck off—" You placated your hands and started laughing.

"No, no—" Your eyes glint. "It's really sweet of you." You said, awaiting his reaction with mischief.

He first choked on air, like one normally does, and then showed the worst allergic reaction to mere words. "SW—! THAT'S NOT— I'M NOT— YOU— I— NO—" in no time you're crackling like a deranged witch, adoring every single second of the show he was pulling. He was basically howling and your laughter actually infuriated him more.

"FUCK OFF!" Your amusement calmed down as you studied him, his puffed cheeks, red eyes avoiding you; with a few stomped steps he placed himself ahead of you but made no attempt to stand you up and go be a hermit somewhere else.

Bakugou Katsuki. Ash blond hair, broad back, pink ears... Swears like a sailor, is all bark and and all bite, except with his friends. Has a big heart...

"Something strange is happening." You find yourself saying.

"Hah?" He glances back.

"People have been acting weird." That stops him.

"They better not be fucking messin' with you—"

"No, on the contrary, they're nice to me..." you assured, voice faint as his comment repeated in your mind and your chest warmed up once again because of him.

They better not be fucking messin' with you.

"Good." He says and you can't bite your tongue.

"You're a good guy, Bakugou."

He gives you a face. "Hah? Now you fucking notice?!" But he's grinning at the end of the sentence, cocky and so full of himself and you'd lie if you said you didn't consider him incredibly handsome. Although it seems he did not get the message.

"No. I mean it for real. You really are a good guy." He grunts like he hurt himself in his own confusion, staring stupidly at you, slightly blushing. "You're gonna be such a great hero too." Mouth agape to try to answer, he just gives you plate eyes and nothing else. On the other hand you genuinely expected more explosive reactions but this seemed to have broken him for some good seconds. He stared and watched and stood there like an idiot in front of you, making you want to both bury yourself in your own embarrassment and laugh at him.

You opted to look up at the ceiling, flustered and amused, yesterday's events suddently washing over you; they never really left your thoughts but now all the feelings decided to come visit once again.

"Oi—" he better not ruin it. "Wh— The fuck you kissing my ass for?!" You breathe out, long and loud for him to understand how stupid he sounded and stalked ahead; only food could save the day he's been actively ruining and that's what you were gonna get. He followed your rushed steps with cusses and questions until he grabbed your wrist to slow your pace. "Slow down, dumbass!"

The issue was that his obnoxiously loud voice caught then attention of some students that were just minding their own business.

"Is that Bakugou Katsuki?" Earning a groan from him as if it wasn't his fault!

"—with [L/N] [Y/N]?"

"Are they holding hands?!"

"So they're really together?" You cringe in embarrassment.

"Is that a confession?!" No, no, absolutely not happening. You rush out of the scene, gut burning, the boy on your toes cursing and mumbling whatevers but you didn't reach far until he talks. At least he had the decency of stopping you at an empty spot before giving you a heart attack.

"This is when you confess— or some fucking— dumb shit like that." Even without seeing him, back turned and absolutely petrified, you heard the cocky vibration in his tone that was sprinkled with some light stuttering.

Son of a bitch. That prinkly ass cocky fuck. That absolutely handful of a sea urchin—

You checked the closest stairway, your nearest exit and pathway to your salvation but something in that attitude of his just made you shake as you covered your face and laugh.

"You're... You're the worst." You mumble in disbelief but the grin that almost broke your face got even bigger as he choked and inhaled sharply.

"Hah?! Wasn't I the fucking best a minute ago?!"

"I did not say tha—"

"Same shit!" He bites when you glanced on him through your fingers. Your skin was burning so hot it would've been mortifying if he didn't look just as rattled. The view managed to calm your nerves and spike them at the same time.

"You're the worst..." Finally uncovering your face, he takes in your grin and visibly calms his fuming yet remains just as discomposed. "—and I like you."

Still, you cover your mouth because the blond in front of you started combusting and it was glorious to watch. Hell, you felt like grabbing a snack and watching him go through all those feelings that slapped his face on repeat. First his eyes widened, the teasing from before forgotten, then his skin, already splashed with red transformed completely into the same color, so deep it in resemblance with his eyes, eyes that were reading into you intensely. He went rigid too and as time passed and passed and he did not move, the only thing left was to break him out of his misery. Yes, break him.

"This is when you say it back."

He snapped. "I— DON'T FUCKING— DON'T FUCKING MAKE ME SAY EMBARRASSING SHIT LIKE THAT!" Birds flew away in one mile radius, windows trembled, your eardrums cried for mercy and you hid your smile because even through deafening volume, Bakugou Katsuki did not deny it. A zoo totally high on crystal meth started a revolution in your insides and the feeling threatened to burst out at any moment.

This is it. This ball of emotional constipation was taking your breath away while cussing you after you confessed and all you wanted to do was to squeal... What have you become?

But you said nothing, just stared with your hand covering your mouth, taking in the boy that looked like he wanted to throw fists with you, bared teeth and all, and also simultaneously die of a stroke.

"I—" he tried, you had to give him credit because he really did try. Like a challenge, like he wasn't going to back down, he gave his best and not without looking like it killed him inside. "F—" cuss word got stuck in his throat when you couldn't help a scoff. Suddently the show comes to an end when he halts, gives you a glare and takes a deep breath. For a moment you feared he'd walk away. Oh, how wrong you were because deep down you had to know he did not back down easily.

"I like— you, too." Beautiful words came out of his mouth, looking like it physically pained him to say them. "THERE, I SAID IT! YOU FUCKING HAPPY NOW?!" He howls indignantly, crossing his arms, trying to hide his clear flustered self yet it takes him one glance at you to return to his self induced stroke. "Don't fucking make that dumb fucking face—" he struggled to exist. "Don't look at me like that, dammit!"

You giggle, relieved and happy and in all honesty about to cry a tiny bit. You couldn't help it, enamored with how blissful this moment was. Bakugou stops his grunts and watches you in awe, small, minuscule grin taking over his face and he clicks his tongue, trying to fight it.

And deflects, as always.

"C'mon. Have to walk you there before you get lost or some shit like that." You breathe in and nod, even thought you were perfectly capable of walking to the cafeteria as you've done it for a year and some now.

"Okay."

"You'd be starving if it weren't for me." You snort and roll your eyes, but beam like a lovestruck idiot.

"Sure thing, dude." It instantly earns a grunt, then a pout, followed by grumbles and heavy feet by your side. You check on him, noticing his shrugged shoulders and tinted nose and you almost trip with your own legs because of it. He doesn't say anything for the longest time, which you didn't mind as you yourself needed some time to shoo away the butterflies and rainbows that floated all around in your very empty head. It wasn't until you almost reached the cafeteria that he stops you by the arm and looks away.

"You— You shouldn't call your boyfriend dude, dumbass."

Remember the butterflies? Now they're radioactive and fluttering around, crazed and disoriented.

"Says the one that calls me a dumbass, Bakugou." You relent, thankful he took the initiative to answer the question that lingered in the air throughout all the walk.

A wild flush takes over him and he refuses to turn toward you, just observing from the corner of his eyes.

"It's— It's Katsuki to you, dumbass." And he drags you inside without giving you a chance to process it. But when you do, you grin like mad and whisper just as you were manhandled through the door, preparing yourself for his explosive gargling and screaming and silently apologizing to everyone in your general proximity.

"Okay, Kacchan~"

Note: Thank you for reading and for any sweet mesages! I read each and every one of them and they make me so incredibly happy!! I would like to point out that the phone editor switches around paragraphs and it's very confusing. I edited some mistakes and for now it's good but I'm scared it wasn't fixed since I edited before too and I encounter the same problem again... If you find something off, could you please let me know? I want the reading to be enjoyable for everyone after all. Thank you again! 💕

[taeescript]

I Promise (I)

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰 >> Some people have the gifted ability of music; others of mathematics; some perhaps as persuasive argumentators. You have a “gift”, if one would like to call it that. It is the ability to know when somebody is telling a lie. 

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 >> hoseok x reader; ?? x reader (the whole gang joins at some point) 

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢 >> mafia!au 

𝔴/𝔠 >> 3.1k 

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 >> mentions of drug use. nothing else much really it’s actually pretty tame right now 

𝔞/𝔫: would you believe be if i said this whole thing was inspired by this singular gif? I lost my old account (rip old fics) but here I am starting new and writing again. Nervous, but please show some love 

next part

The music is blasting in your room, and the bass rumbles causing your heart to beat to the rhythm of the song. However, your fingers are tapping to their own creation of a tempo while your other hand scribbles a note down on a piece of paper. It is the end of June and that means you have just received your paycheque.

  “$9.74,” you repeat after your calculation, “I’ve got an extra $9.74 to spend.” You lean back in your chair and continues to bob your head. The wall behind you thumps to its own tempo; not of the song that is playing but its own rhythmic pattern. Your roommate is at it again. You close your eyes and allow yourself to drift. $9.74. You could get an extra meal. Or an extra drink at the bar. Or maybe you could just put that into your bank account. But that’d be useless, just sitting there. In the very distance, you hear the thumping of your roommate stop and its door creaks open. Another set of doors creak a couple of seconds later. You get out of your seat and open the door to your own room.

  Seohyun, your roommate, brushes past you wearing only a pair of shorts and her favourite black laced bra. She walks to the door of the apartment and kisses the man on the lips before taking a drag of the cigarette she is holding in the other hand. He stands with a hand in his pocket and the buttons of his shirt undone. You watch as Seohyun bites his lip before ending the kiss.

  “You’re the best,” you hear the robust mint-haired female say.

Cue the all too familiar buzzing.

“Love you, babe,” he says, kissing her one last time before leaving.

The buzzing halts.

“Love you too,” Seohyun kisses him one last time before gently pushing him out the door, closing it when he leaves.

And there returns the buzz.

Seohyun turns to walk back to her room and notices you standing there. “Hey,” she greets.

  “You know, he actually does like you,” you comment, coming out of your room. You rub the back of your neck and rotate it once to get rid of the stress. Seohyun sits down on the brown couch in the small living room and takes out a tin box. She crosses her legs and rummages through its contents. A cigarette leaves its embers on the ashtray in the table in front of her. “Right. And I like him too,” Seohyun replies, taking out what she had been looking for, “Him and his drugs.” She shakes the white packet before opening it up. She sniffs the contents once and sighs. Making a motion towards you, she offers its contents to you.

  You shake your head. You return into your room briefly to turn off the music and grab your phone and jacket. When you walk back out, you see that the packet is empty and Seohyun is passed out on the couch, fingers still speckled with white dust. You make a quick stop into Seohyun’s room to grab a blanket for her before locking the keys to the apartment.

  Your apartment, technically. You had been the one to pay full payment and was content in living alone until Seohyun showed up one night, begging for a place to sleep. You couldn’t let her sleep outside so you agreed. That one night turned into a week and finally a year, where Seohyun still stays.

  It isn’t like you didn’t enjoy Seohyun’s company. She is nice to be around, always engaging in some next level philosophical topic, particularly when she is high. It is, however, slightly annoying whenever she brings her “boyfriend”, or boyfriends at times, to the place, but you have learned to drown out their voices and actions by blasting your music. But what you like about Seohyun the most is that she doesn’t ask questions. The buzzing in your head is also always strangely quieter around the other girl as well.

  You trudge up the stairs and immediately brings a hand to shield your eyes from the bright sun. It is about seven in the evening but still way too bright for your liking. You like the darkness night brought with it. Serene. Solemn. Locking the gate to the building behind you, you walk down the streets all the while rolling your neck due to its tense state.

  No matter how many times it happened, you’d still feel its pain.

  The lingering pain left as a reminder of your unique power; gift; thing. Whatever people wanted to call it.

  You knew whenever somebody told a lie.

  You would feel this strange buzzing at the base of your neck when a person said anything but the truth around you. The buzzing didn’t come every time you talked to somebody - you couldn’t catch all the lies that came out of people’s mouths - but it occurred often enough to be a nuisance to you. While the buzzing wasn’t painful in itself, it always caused your neck to be in sore pain. The pain was not indicative of how big the lie was, however. A lie that involved so many twists and turns that even its creator could not keep track would give you pain. A small white lie would give you the same pain. To you, it was just pain.

  You quickly turn the corner and made your way down the stairs into the subway station. The man at the window gives you a small smile in which you did not return but hastily walk through the gate. One hour. It took 46 minutes to get to the station and another twelve minutes to walk. You had one hour. The subway could not be late.

  You were not always a walking human lie detector. In fact, you had only been living like this for the past six years of the total of your twenty-six. At least consciously aware of this ability of yours for that time period.

  If you really had to pinpoint when it started, you would connect it to approximately four more years prior to that: first year of high school. The prime time of adolescence.

  You could hear the first subway leave, vibrations through the sole of your feet and its wheels screeching on the tracks. That left two minutes for you to make it to the opposite platform which was for the direction you wanted to go. You glance at the elevator you are currently standing in front of. It had not budged from “G” for a while now. You glance at the stairs just a couple of steps away. Sighing, you leave your spot and make your way down the stairs. One and a half minute.

  The first year of high school sucked. Your parents had always screaming at each other and your brother was constantly skipping school. You did not want to be a second disappointment to your parents so you spent all her time studying in the library. It was also an excuse to be out of the house. One day, you returned home and found your mother crying on the steps of their house.

  “Mom, did you and Dad fight again?”

  Your mother did not meet your eyes. “Are you okay?” you had asked, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, trying to console your mother as best as a fourteen year old could do.

  “I’m fine,” your mother answered. That was when you first heard a faint buzzing. It was strange for bees to be around their flowerless yard.

“You don’t look fine,” you had pressed on, “Will you and Dad be okay?”

  Your mother shifted her position and wiped her tears with the back of her hand. She looked at you with a bruised eye and said, “Your dad will be okay.” The buzzing seemed to fade.

  You patted the still damp cheek of your mother and hugged the fragile women. You slowly rubbed your mother’s back in small circles. “Mom, you and Dad will work things out. So promise me you guys won’t leave each other.”

  “I promise,” your mother had reassured you. That was when you cried out in pain as the buzzing attacked you. Your mother had been alarmed and you had laughed it off, saying that a bee had probably stung the back of your neck while she wasn’t aware. The duo then got off the floor and held hands as together, you walked back into the house.

  Your parents split a week later.

  You had never found it in herself to forgive your mother after that. You hadn’t even known that you had been lied to until you really thought about it in your years as an adult. You just hated the fact that your mother had promised something that she had been planning to break. When high school ended, you picked a college as far away from your mother’s house as you could. You poured all of your time into your academics and never bothered making friends. Throughout the four years there, you had occasionally felt the buzzing but did not really associate it with anything around her. It only became prominent when you started working at your first job.

  To any fresh graduate, this was a hire that was ever only dreamt of. It was a position with a high status in the company: Assistant Director of Internal Affairs. The company had been extremely impressed with your grades and all the extracurriculars you participated in. You had flown to three different cities outside of your own country as an intern and placed first in multiple conferences. It was no mistake that you had gotten in. You had been ecstatic when they spoke to you. You could finally move out of your mother’s house, in which you had temporarily been staying in while job searching; live in a city a thousand miles away from where she currently was, and was able to be somebody whom nobody knew about. It was your dream come true.

  That turned out to be a disaster. Every day you went into work, the buzzing would surround you and send you moaning in pain to the bathroom. You could barely speak to any of your coworkers without wanting to strangle them and tell them to be quiet. You could not attend any of the meetings and you had to call in multiple sick days within her first week there. Needless to say, this affected your work performance and after an agonizing four and a half months, the company fired you.

  Being without a job meant that you had no steady income. So, you moved out of the luxurious apartment you had just bought with your new salary and used the remaining money to buy the dank, run down one you were currently living in. You searched everywhere and finally found a waitress for hire at a bar close to the middle of the city. It was an hour from where you lived, but at least there you could dull the buzzing with alcohol. And this was how you lived for the past two years.

  You cursed. You missed it. The subway left you in its smoke as you got off the last step of the descending staircase.

...

The other man was slouched against the pillar of the building, blood running freely down the side of his head while his hand tried to keep in the rest of his blood from escaping out of the hole on his side. He panted, gasping for whatever oxygen was available.

  “Tell me,” the younger man towered over him, “Where did you hide the stash?” “I didn’t hide it, man. I swear. It’s where they asked me to leave it,” the bleeding man held his remaining hand in front of him in defense. “Please don’t hurt me.” There was a swish and cold metal sliced the air. He was not taller than the man, nor any stronger. But he had youth and a quick mind. More importantly, he had a weapon.

“Trust me. I wouldn’t want to hurt you, so don’t make me do something I don’t want to do,” he crouched and put his face close to the other man’s. He pressed the knife against his throat.

  The man whimpered as a thin line of fresh blood was drawn. “Please, I beg you. Don’t hurt me,” he said again, voice barely a whisper.

  The two stayed in that position until the younger abruptly stood up. “Fine, I won’t hurt you,” he stepped back, “But it’ll be on you when she gets hurt.” His movement is fast and he grabs the wrist of the single other person in the station.

...

  You stand with your back against the man, the knife held against your neck this time.

You dare not to move. You swallow once and glance down at the bleeding stranger. He is staring right back at you.

  From movies and dramas, you know not to fight back in scenarios like this. You also know not to scream as this would agitate both parties. You return the strangers stare: “Help me”.

  Your capturer’s voice rumbles through his chest and onto your back as he speaks, “Your choice. I can kill this girl and have it pinned on you, or you can just tell me where you put the stash.”

  “Please,” the bloody man pleads, “I’m just a carrier. I don’t know where any of the merchandise is. I… I admit it, alright? I disobeyed the instructions this time. I didn’t leave it where they told me.”

  You feel yourself being dragged closer to the subway tracks. Maybe you should kick or flail around a little. You try, but the man holds you steady. The blade is dangerously close to cutting your skin.

  The bleeding man can only watch in horror as the other man stands precariously on the edge of the tracks. “I’m going to push her down,” he is warned. His mind was frantic. He had been told that his task would be simple. He did not know that it would involve another human being to be hurt in the process. His mind flashes back to his little girl, probably still waiting for her father in their small flat.

  “I got another message right before I left,” he starts saying, “Please don’t hurt the girl. Please don’t hurt me. I’ve got a family.”

  “Don’t we all,” the voice behind you drawls in sarcasm, “Give me another excuse of why I need to keep listening.”

  You kick your assaulter. He grips you tighter. She look back at the bleeding man on the ground. He is still staring at you with wide eyes.

  “The message told me that the location had changed. I wasn’t sure if I should trust it, but an hour before the pickup time, another note showed up on my doorstep and said that if I brought it to the second location, I’d get an extra $150, so I did it,” he continues.

You feel the tension in your neck slightly subside amongst the chaos. You kicked your assaulter again.

  “Exact location. Now,” the voice demands.

  “Corner of 16th and Main,” he stammers.

  You kick a little harder this time, trying to wiggle out of the tight grip. It is really starting to hurt you. You feel yourself being pushed towards the bleeding man. Both you and your assaulter get extremely close to the man lying on the ground.

  You sniff once and instantly regret it. Mixed with the blood, you can smell the acidity of urine. The man is now crying and you think you could see the pool around him widen ever so slightly.

  “Please sir, I’ve told you everything that I know. I followed the instructions and left it there. I did not hide it. Somebody else must’ve used me to get it. I swear, Sir, I swear,” he holds his hands out and rubs them, a symbol of asking for mercy.

  The two of you stand up, or rather you are hauled up for the man. The knife nicks your neck and you swear under your breath. You can feel the two men stare at each other for a long time.

  “Scram,” the one behind her rasps. It takes a while for the bleeding man to stand, but adrenaline does wonders when the body is in danger. He limps out and up the stairs before he can be told twice. There is a rumbling in the distance to indicate that the next subway is arriving.

  “There’s a train coming,” you finally talk, “A train means there’s people.” Your assaulter still does not let go.

  “You’re hurting me,” you wiggled in his grasp. He loosens it and you finally get away. You turn and glare through your bangs at the man who has been holding you captive. You touch a finger to where the knife had nicked you, then examined it: there is blood.

  The man standing has put his knife away. He is studying you with eyes as intense as yours while bringing the lighter to the cigarette in his mouth. He takes a long drag and blows it in your direction.

  Standing only a few inches taller than you, he is of slightly above average height. He wears the iconic baggy shirt and jeans of the common gangsters that prowl the area. Even in the dim light of the subway station, you can make out the tattoo of a dragon spiraling up his arm. He does nothing to hide the fact that he is affiliated with the mafia.

  You are not particularly intimidating yourself. You stand at 164cm but wear a constant scowl. With your broken nose from a fall in your childhood, the feature makes your whole facial symmetry shift ever slightly to the left, accentuating the scowl even more. In a black t-shirt, black dress pants and black shoes, you wave her hand to rid herself of the smell of smoke.

  “So, was he lying?” the man finally speaks after a period of silence.

  “Fuck off, Jung Hoseok,” you growl.

[bangtanreadingcorner]

tall, blonde and gorgeous • jeon jeongguk

plot — when jeongguk dyes his hair blonde, it might just be the push you both need to finally talk about the feelings you have for each other.

words — 5.7K

You woke up in the middle of the night, craving some apple juice. You knew there was in the kitchen fridge, because Taehyung always made sure to stock up whenever you come for a weekend visit.

Speaking of your brother, he was passed out next to you, the two of you sharing his King sized bed while you visited. Like you always did. It was mostly just you two, but sometimes Jimin would join you. You don't mind, you known both of them since forever and Jimin is your brother as much as Taehyung is.

Quietly, you got out of bed. You didn't want to wake your brother, he works so hard and needs his rest.

The dorm was silent, which was a little weird because there was usually always someone up. It was only when on tour that all seven of the boys would sometimes be asleep at once, but even that was rare.

Shrugging it off, you padded the rest of the way to the kitchen, only to come to a halt in the doorway, freezing.

Someone with a mop of blond hair stood with his back to you, digging through the fridge.

The digging through the fridge wasn't what surprised you, no, it was the hair because as far as you knew, no one in Bangtan had blonde hair right now.

You knew because your brother was always spamming your phone, whenever he had time, with pictures, videos, voice notes and messages. You and Taehyung have always been close and he always made the effort to keep you up-to-date with his life but also made a point to keep you out of the spotlight, which you appreciate more than you tell him. Come to think of it, more than half your gallery is made up of pictures of Bangtan. The other half is made up of your rare selfies, pictures with your friends, of your dog or your brother's dog.

The point is, if someone colored their hair, you would know within five minutes - with pictures and everything. And Taehyung hasn't spammed your phone since yesterday morning when he and Jimin accidentally got Hobi instead of Jeongguk with a water balloon.

So, the question is, who is the blonde currently rummaging through the fridge?

You looked him up and down, noticing the very nice, very broad and clearly strong shoulders covered with a black t-shirt that hid the rest of the guy's figure. Your gaze went down a nice ass and long legs that was wearing grey sweatpants and finally stopping at bare feet.

Something flashed in your mind.

Wait a minute.

You know that ass. You've looked at it enough over the last seven years to recognize it anywhere in a crowd.

"Jeongguk?" You called, a little satisfied when he jumped upright, turning to you with wide eyes. Your heart decided to double its pace.

"Ah, tiny, you're awake. I thought you were sleeping, trying to grow some more." He teased, his heartbeat slowly calming down from the freight you gave him. His eyes quickly scanned you over, and he had to suppress a smile when he saw the bright orange pajamas. It was ugly as hell - he made sure to tell you many times but you always just roll your eyes at him or if you were feeling particularly moody, you'd flip him a finger.

Now, ordinarily, you'd snap at him for calling you tiny because you aren't (it doesn't matter that Jimin is 12 centimeters taller than you, it doesn't make you tiny, short maybe, but not tiny) but right now, you could only focus on one thing.

"Y-your hair." You stuttered, which was new because you never stutter in Jeongguk's presence. Your heart may race, your legs may turn into jelly, your hands may tremble and your stomach may fill with butterflies but you never stutter. And you never let him know what you're feeling.

He ran a hand through his freshly dyed blonde hair, only a little self-conscious with the intense stare you were giving him. He couldn't tell if it was positive or negative. "Yeah, I just wanted a change, something different."

"Well, it's definitely different. Mission accomplished." You informed him, walking into the kitchen fully, your voice miraculously even as you were internally panicking. This was like that time he dyed his hair pink all over again. Oh god. You hoped you could form coherent sentences this time around instead of just giving him the silent treatment for two weeks.

Like you said, you don't stutter around Jeongguk. Ever.

Jeongguk tilted his head at you curiously. "Bad different?"

"No!" You exclaimed, not wanting him to think that. You shook your head vigorously. "Not all. It looks good actually. Really good." So good, in fact, that your fingers itched to touch, to run your hands through it, play with the dyed locks of hair.

Jeongguk looked at you in pleasant surprise, lips stretching into that familiar bunny smile that made you swoon. He bit his bottom lip before saying. "I think that's the first time you ever paid me a compliment."

You frowned, "That can't be true."

"It is." Jeongguk's tone was matter-of-fact. "In seven years, you've never once given me a compliment. I would have remembered."

You pursed your lips, a sudden surge of guilt rushing through your chest at the look on his face - hurt.

"Well, you get lots of compliments from other people, right?" You said, trying to deflect because you never once thought that by staying quiet around Jeongguk, just to hide your feelings, that you'd hurt him.

"But never from you." Jeongguk said, words low and heavy with something you didn't understand. He stared at you, eyes open and strangely vulnerable. You didn't understand what he was trying to tell you.

You frowned at him again, "What does it matter?"

Something in Jeongguk's eyes shuttered at that, like he let you see something but now he pulled his walls back up. You still didn't understand it and he wasn't volunteering an answer.

Finally, he shrugged, "It doesn't, I guess." and he turned back to the refrigerator.

You had a feeling he was lying but you weren't going to call him out because that wasn't your place and it wasn't the kind of thing you and Jeongguk did. Whenever things seemed to go in a direction where feelings were involved - and not about other people but about each other, like what you think of Jeongguk and what he thinks of you - one of you stops the conversation before it can go deeper.

You tease each other good-naturedly, comfortable with each other because you are the same age, and you've listened to him rant when he was frustrated and even held his hand at times when he cried because the pressure of it all got a little to much.

It struck you, suddenly, how Jeongguk always comes to you first. Whether he's stupidly happy about something, or whether he's sad and wants a shoulder to cry on. You two could talk about anything under the sun or moon but whenever it comes to your feelings for each other, you shut down. You've never even admitted that you are, at the very least, friends and that you do care about each other.

You wondered if maybe it was time to change that.

You looked at Jeongguk's back and wanted to ask if thinks of you as a friend, if nothing else but what came out was, "Can you hand me a juice box please?"

He did so, without a word, and you decided to go back to bed. You stopped in the doorway again, turning back to him. "Jeongguk?"

"Yeah?" His tone, his eyes, was strangely hopeful and it made your heart twist. You looked at him, and somehow fell a little bit more in love with him.

"You know that I care about you, right? I mean, I know we've never talked about it, but I do." Your hands was shaking and you gripped the juice box. Luckily you didn't press the straw in yet or your hands would be full of apple juice right now.

The smile Jeongguk gave you was brilliant and it made your heart feel lighter than ever. He nodded his head, "I know."

"Good."

"I-" He started, breath catching a bit but forced himself to go on because if you could be brave, then so could he. "I care about you, too."

You grinned at him before turning away and going back to Taehyung's room, a definite skip in your step.

* * *

"So, what do you think?" Taehyung asked eagerly the next morning after breakfast, when everyone cooed and screeched over Jeongguk's hair.

You were back in your brother's room, scrolling through your Twitter feed. You looked at him, not sure what he was talking about. When it comes to Taehyung it can anything from the lines for a song he's working on to his next prank on one of the members.

"Of what?" You asked.

"About Jeonggukie." He said, waving with a hand at his head, so that the meaning was clear.

"Ah, you mean his transformation from tall, dark and handsome to tall, blonde and gorgeous?"

"Yes! What do you think?" Your brother looked at you expectantly.

"I think my previous question is an answer to that question." You smirked at him, snickering when he just scoffed before pouting at you.

"I hate it when you go all smartass on me." He said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I love you, too." You sing-songed with a lighthearted giggled.

* * *

Later that afternoon, you decided to watch a movie and was joined by Jeongguk, Taehyung, Hoseok and Jimin.

"Jeongguk-ah." You called from where you were sitting on the two seater couch next to Hoseok. Jimin and Taehyung was laying cuddled on the three seater and Jeongguk was sitting on the floor, against the front of the coffee table. You weren't sure where the rest are right now.

He turned to you, eyes narrowed suspiciously, "What do you want?"

You gaped at him, "What makes you think I want something?"

"Because you only call me 'Jeongguk-ah' when you want something." He was matter-of-fact.

The other three was watching the two of you instead of the movie.

"Like what? I rarely ask you anything." You frowned at him.

"Like getting your phone from Taehyung-hyung's room, making you tea, bringing you a blanket, getting your food." Jeongguk said and you huffed. Okay, so maybe you do that but this time what you want would benefit him too.

"Okay, first of all, you didn't have to do any of what I asked, you know. And second, you'll like this too." You assured him, then added after a moment. "I think."

Jeongguk looked at you warily as Jimin and Taehyung exchanged smirks. "What do you want?"

"I want to play with your hair." You shrugged nonchalantly, not showing a hint of how nervous you are, no showing how it took you the whole morning to pluck enough courage together to ask.

Jeongguk's mouth fell open in surprise, "Seriously?"

"Yeah, I mean I've always liked your hair but this blonde hair is really doing for you." You smiled at him, a little more confident when you saw more confusion than anything else on his face. Satisfaction rolled through you when you noticed his red ears.

"Whatever, fine." He muttered in agreement, looking away from you as he stood up right and came to sit down infront of you.

"Thank you." You grinned, clapping your hands in glee as you crossed your legs on the couch, knees touching Jeongguk's shoulders.

"Just don't tangle it." Jeongguk said, eyes fixed on the TV screen.

"I won't." You promised before reaching out and running your hands through his hair. It was just as soft as you hoped, instead of being dry and rough from the dye - it made you feel giddy.

Jeongguk tensed under the touch for a second but relaxed when you continued your gentle ministrations, nails scraping softly against his scalp. You tuned out the rest of the room, having watched the movie before - you've watched all the Marvel movies with Jeongguk at least three times - and continued playing with the blonde tresses.

Still, something caught your attention and you said, "Jimin-oppa, put away that phone."

"I don't know what you're talking about." He said innocently, hiding his phone behind his back.

"Sure you don't."

It was silent for fifteen seconds before he whined, "But no one will believe me if I don't have proof."

"They'll believe Hobi-oppa." You retorted, nodding to the ray of sunshine sitting besides you.

Jimin huffed indignantly but dutifully put his phone away.

You continued playing with Jeongguk's hair, twirled and braided and separated and bunched it together like a pineapple stem atop his hair. The movie finished and Taehyung picked another one and you still played with Jeongguk's hair.

Twenty minutes into the new movie, Jeongguk's head fell back, onto your legs, eyes closed. You gaped at the blonde.

"Jeongguk." You whispered, not wanting to wake him if he is sleeping but not sure if he's playing either.

"Did he fall asleep?" Your brother asked, laughter in his voice, making his eyes sparkle.

"I think so." You nodded, in a state of bewilderment and disbelief.

"You must have magic hands." Hoseok said before pressing a hand over his mouth to muffle the sounds of his laughter.

Your glared at them. "Not one more word out of the three of you, or I'll change the sugar in your coffee for salt for the indefinite future."

"I didn't say anything." Jimin protested and you just gave him a pointed look.

They thankfully kept quiet after that, but you could see them glancing at you and Jeongguk every now and again. You ignored their gazes as you continued playing with his hair.

Your heart was thumping happily in your chest, glad that Jeongguk enjoy you playing with his hair so much that it lulled him to sleep. It made you feel so content that you didn't want to move again.

You even turned a blind eye when you saw Jimin turning his phone in your direction ten minutes later.

At the end of the movie, you decided to wake Jeongguk up. As much as you like him sleeping on your legs, they were starting to fall asleep and he would get a stiff neck if he keeps sleeping like that.

So, you shooed everyone out of the room before gently shaking his shoulder. "Jeongguk-ah, wake up."

He groaned and you repeated your actions, watching as his eyes fluttered open. You looked into his sleepy eyes, wanting to coo as you watched him blink his way out of sleep. He quickly recognised you, even upside down, and immediately sat upright, looking at you with wide eyes.

"Y/N?" His voice was husky with sleep and it made your cheeks heat up. "What happened?"

"You feel asleep." You explained. You watched as he nodded slowly, processing this and felt the urge to tease him a little, so you added, "On my lap."

Jeongguk's cheeks flushed pink and you couldn't help the fond smile on your lips. He ducked his head shyly and spoke a soft, "Sorry."

"It's okay." You waved him off. You wanted to even the field between you because it felt unbalanced somehow, like you had something over Jeongguk. You didn't like it, you wanted to be right besides him. Not above or below him. (Although many people would say he's way above you, you know that he doesn't care about that and neither do you.) Finally you admitted, "I liked it, it was nice that you felt relaxed enough because of me to fall asleep."

"I liked it, too."

You smiled, a little shy but also feeling bold by his admission. "I'll do it again sometime then."

"Okay." He grinned.

* * *

After that weekend, it took three weeks before you had another free weekend to go and visit your brother. With your bag slung over your shoulder and a bouquet of red tulips in your hand, you opened the door and called a loud hello to anyone inside. You made you way to the kitchen first, wanting to put the flowers in some water.

You found Jeongguk - who was still blonde, and your heart instantly picked up its pace - and Namjoon in the kitchen, the leader busy by the microwave and Jeongguk waiting as far as humanly possible from it. You quickly realised what was happening and supressed a smile. Namjoon must be heating food up for Jeongguk, who is afraid of microwaves.

You exchanged greetings and you quickly started looking through the cupboards for a vase.

"Those are pretty flowers." Namjoon remarked, leaning against the counter.

"I know right."

"Where did you get them?" Jeongguk asked, eyes on the admittedly pretty flowers.

"Oh, some guy gave them to me before asking me out." You answered absentmindedly as you continued your search for a vase.

Behind you, Jeongguk tensed, his hands curling into fists.

"Really?" Namjoon asked, more to see Jeongguk's reaction than anything else.

"Yeah, I almost said yes, too, just for the fact that he gave me flowers." You nodded over your shoulder. "Do you guys have a vase? I swear Jin-oppa had one in the old dorm."

"Under the sink." Namjoon answered, arms crossed over his chest as he looked back and forth between an oblivious-you and a jealous-Jeongguk, a smile on the corners of his lips.

"Thanks." You grinned before walking over to the sink and crouching down. You opened the cupboard and had to dig past the sponges, cloths, windowlene, bleach and dishwashing liquid before spotting the crystal vase. "I love flowers, you know? Not many people know because it's not something I advertise but Taehyung-oppa always gives me flowers for my birthday, every year since I was thirteen." You babbled as you gently pulled out the vase, not wanting to knock it against one of the pipes and crack or shatter it by accident. It was a little dusty, so you rinsed it before filling it halfway with water.

"Do you have a favorite flower?" Namjoon asked, partly to fill the silence because Jeongguk was glaring at the ceiling, tongue in cheek, and partly because he genuinely wants to know.

"Nope," You shook your head, removing the protective plastic around the flowers and putting them in the water. "I like all kinds of flowers. Roses, lillies, forget-me-nots, proteas, tulips, sunflowers - you name it, I love it. And in all colours too. There's just too many to pick a favorite. Although I really like pink lotus flowers. I'd love to grow them when I have my own garden someday. I'll have to install a shallow pond, of course, because they grow in mud but yeah, that's something I'd really like to try." You rambled on. Namjoon watched you fondly and glanced at the maknae, seeing that Jeongguk was still tense.

"Did you say yes?" Jeongguk burst out asking the moment you stopped talking.

"Huh?" You frowned at him, a little lost because you were completely caught up in thoughts of flowers.

"The date." He said, voice taking a sharp edge. "Did you say yes?"

"Oh." Realisation dawned on you and you shook your head. "No, I didn't."

"Then why did you take his flowers? You'll give him the wrong idea." Jeongguk grumbled.

Namjoon thought that right now was the best time to become a missing person and quickly exited the kitchen. He is not playing referee, should this turn into an arguement. No, thank you, he's done it enough between these two.

You rolled your eyes at Jeongguk, "I made myself perfectly clear, Jeongguk. I told him that while I adore the flowers, I don't like him."

"Still, you shouldn't have taken them." Jeongguk insisted, stepping closer to you.

Your temper flared, "Excuse me? Why not?"

"What if someone had seen? What if they start thinking that you two are dating?" Jeongguk's tone was something crossed between horror and panic.

"And so what if they think that?" You frowned at Jeongguk because what does it matter what other people think when you know the truth?

"So you do want people to think you're dating." Jeongguk said, voice cutting and accusing.

"What?" You stepped closer to Jeongguk, getting angrier by the second.

"Do you actually like this guy?" Jeongguk asked, sounding distressed with the thought but you were to angry to pay any attention to that.

You scoffed, "Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm ridiculous?" He pointed to himself, shocked.

"Yes! They're just fucking flowers!" Your voice was raised as you snapped at him, louder and harsher than it's been in a long time towards Jeongguk, of all people.

You didn't have time to feel guilty because his next words matched yours in volume, "That some other guy bought for you!"

"And your point is what exactly?!" Your voice didn't lower.

"My point is that I can buy you flowers!" Jeongguk shouted back.

The words take a second to sink in, and when it does, it catches you completely off guard and you deflate like a popped balloon, you anger evaporating like mist under the sun. You squint up at the blonde, who you finally noticed was a lot closer than when you started this arguement. "What?"

His voice was soft this time around, all the fight having left him, too. "If you want flowers, just ask me. I'll buy you any flowers you want. Just-" He cut himself off with a sigh, closing his eyes. "Don't take someone else's flowers again. Please."

You looked at him, opening your mouth to snap at him but saw the sincere, the utterly vulnerable look in his eyes, and the breath was knocked from your lungs. You looked away, taking a few steps back as your heart twisted and you inhaled deeply to fill your lungs again. You noticed that Namjoon had left the kitchen. You didn't blame him.

A lengthy silence later, you finally looked at Jeongguk again, your hands trembling. "Is it really that important to you?"

"Yes." Jeongguk answered softly but firmly, no question in his voice, even as he looked down at the tiled floor.

"Okay." You nodded.

His eyes snapped to yours, and he echoed, "Okay?"

"Yeah, okay." You gave him a slow smile, then, just to break the heavy tension around you two, you said, "Just know that there is no backing out now and flowers are expensive. You aren't allowed to complain that I'm denting your bank account later."

"Deal." Jeongguk laughed, warmth spreading through his chest as the last of his jealousy faded.

* * *

"You know that one day you are going to have to talk about the feelings between you and Jeongguk, right?" Taehyung asked his sister later that night when they were laying in bed. He heard the story from Jimin, who heard it from Seokjin and Yoongi, who heard it from Hoseok, who heard it from Namjoon.

"What feelings?" You asked innocently.

Taehyung sighed in frustration but wasn't very surprised. The one thing that Taehyung has never been able to get out of his sister is the truth about her feelings for Jeongguk. But even without her saying anything, he knew. The eyes don't lie. "Denying it won't make it go away, Y/N."

You sighed, too, "Yeah, I know."

Taehyung didn't say anything for a few moments. This was the closest his sister ever gotten to admitting her feelings out loud, in seven years. "I'm here for you. Always."

"Thanks." You smiled, as if you didn't know that already.

* * *

Before you went home that Sunday, your brother told you that they were going on vacation as a group and you're invited because according to Taehyung, right after Jimin, you are the one person he can't live without. You rolled your eyes at the dramatics but agree to go with them none the less.

So, you put in a week's leave for two weeks from now and asked your brother where you would be going for this vacation. The answer was a secluded beach house where no one would be able to reach you.

And no phones was allowed.

You laughed a bit at that rule when you arrived at the house and saw that there is WiFi. Your brother was quick to remind everyone of the rule, telling them that the WiFi was only allowed to be used for YouTube and Netflix. Games was added to the list after an objection from Jeongguk and Seokjin.

"This is gonna go great." You laughed as walked up the stairs to pick a room. You get first choice after winning the rock, paper, scissors game in the car.

"Pick us a nice room, sis!" Taehyung shouted up after you.

There was only four rooms because the whole point of this vacation is to spend time together, which means that everyone was doubling up. They decided to pair up by age and it turned out - Seokjin and Yoongi, Hoseok and Namjoon, Jimin and Jeonguk, and naturally, you and Taehyung were paired up. (You tried not to think about the fact that if you kept to the age pairing that you and Jeongguk would've been sharing a room.) That lead to a lot of pouting from Jimin because he wanted to pair up with his soulmate.

"If your so eager to share a bed with him, why don't you marry him?" You remember teasing Jimin.

"Maybe I will." He shot back without thinking and you weren't sure who was redder once his words set in - Jimin or Taehyung.

You picked a room with a small balcony and a nice view of the ocean. The day passed peacefully, everyone full of energy but after dinner on the beach, everyone quickly retired to bed, the sea air getting to them.

You decided to watch the ocean a little while longer and Jeongguk joined you. Neither of you spoke as you sat on the sand, watching as the waves crashed on the shore, water retreating back into the vast expanse of ocean. It was captivating, in a kind of terrifying way but if there is one thing in your life you've never been scared of, it's water.

"Life is a lot like the ocean." You eventually said, breaking the silence between you.

"How so?"

"You can read about it in so many books, but you still won't know everything about it."

"That's deep." Jeongguk said, voice soft.

You shrugged, feeling a little self-conscious. "Yeah, well, I've never been a shallow person."

"I know." You saw him nodding out of the corner of your eyes. "You're a beautiful person. Inside and out." He said it so matter-of-factly, so sincerely, that your stomach flipped and your cheeks flushed.

"Thanks." You smiled over at him.

It was silent again, but just like the first silence, you didn't mind it. You like the comfortable quiet between you two. Finally, you sighed and pushed to your feet, "Come on, let's go inside."

"Okay." Jeongguk got to his feet and you walked the path home.

You walked on the side of the pool where you all swam earlier that day, and didn't notice the small puddle of water that hasn't dried yet and you slipped. You reached for Jeongguk but his hands missed yours by millimeters, so you just took a breath and resigned yourself to falling into the water. You didn't mind it all that much, nothing some towels couldn't fix.

When you surfaced, you saw a laughing Jeongguk on the side. An idea formed in your mind but you made sure to keep your expression neutral as you reached a hand out to him. "Give a girl a hand, please."

Jeongguk - nice, kind, unsuspecting Jeongguk - reached a helping hand out to you immediately, only realising your true intentions when you gave a forceful yank and pulled him into the pool.

When he surfaced, glaring at you - but there was no heat behind it, so it didn't count - you couldn't help but laugh heartily. "I forget how similar you and Taehyung-hyung really are sometimes."

"Sucks for you." You smirked. The smirk turned into spluttering when Jeongguk splashed water into your face. You looked at him with narrowed eyes. "Oh, you're on."

You splashed at each other like proper five year olds, giggling and everything. Finally you called a ceasefire before you woke up everyone inside.

You looked at Jeongguk, blonde hair dripping wet, droplets of water rolling down his tan skin, that little mole under his bottom lip that you've wanted to kiss so many times you've lost count and suddenly, all of your resolve broke down like a house of cards and your common sense shortcircuited. You surged forward and kissed him firmly, clutching at his shoulders to pull him close.

His lips were a little cold from the water but was still petal soft and you wondered what it would be like to kiss him everyday.

Your common sense returned a second later and you pulled away, almost loosing your footing and slipping. Your whole body was on fire and you couldn't look Jeongguk in the eyes. "Fuck. Shit, Jeongguk, I'm so, so sorry."

You turned away from him, every intention of getting out of this pool and hiding away until you die.

Only you didn't get anywhere before a strong hand circled your wrist in the one second and in the next second you found yourself pushed up against the wall of the swimming pool, barricaded in by a hand on each side of you. You looked up at Jeongguk and your mouth went dry at the sight of those dark eyes that made you shiver. His voice was low when he spoke, "I didn't get to kiss back."

Your eyes widened and that was all you had time to do before he leaned down to capture your lips. Your head told you to pull away. That this is a very bad idea. Your heart told you to kiss him back and make the most of it. You've been listening to your head for seven years, so you decided to listen to your heart for once and kissed Jeongguk back with years of pent up longing and yearning.

The kiss turn turned really hot, really fast.

Jeongguk hoisted you up and you quickly got with the program and wrapped your legs around his waist. Everywhere his hands touched, it left a blazing trail behind, causing you to shiver and erupt into goosebumps. Distantly you wondered how it was possible to feel so heated in cold water.

You kissed and kissed until your lungs burned, your toes curling as you squeezed as close to Jeongguk as possible. Finally, you couldn't take it anymore and you pulled away, both of you heaving lungfuls of air.

"So now what?" You asked him, when you regained some common sense and breathing didn't leave you breathless anymore.

"Well, right now I'd like to kiss you some more, but later on, I'd really like to take you out." Jeongguk told you bluntly and if you were standing, your legs would have given out.

"What?"

And just like that, gone was confident Jeongguk and back was shy Jeongguk. He ducked his head, adverting his eyes from yours. "If you want."

"Yeah, I want too." You told him, watching as his eyes glittered with happiness. You could relate.

Jeongguk was onto something with the kissing some more right now, though, so you pushed that away and you dived back in. Right now you were more interested in mapping the inside of Jeongguk's mouth and finding out what his skin tastes like than anything else in this world.

* * *

The next morning your brother squinted at you suspiciously from across the breakfast table. You were seated in between Jeongguk and Hoseok, across from Taehyung and Jimin. Namjoon sat next to Hoseok. Yoongi and Jin was busy making breakfast in the kitchen. The six of you were waiting patiently.

Finally you couldn't take the staring anymore. "Is there something on my face, Taehyung-oppa?"

"Something happened." Taehyung said, pointing the pair of chopsticks he was fiddling with at you.

You rose a brow, not surprised at all that your brother picked up on it. That doesn't mean you are going to make it easy for him. You put on an innocent face, "Really?"

"Yeah, Taehyung-ah is right, you're like-" Jimin agreed, waving his hands around as he searched for the right word. "...glowing."

"I am not glowing." You said indignantly. Out of the corner of your eyes, you caught a smirk lifting on Jeongguk's lips. You turned and narrowed your eyes at him, "You, stop looking so smug."

"What does Jeonggukie have to do with-" Taehyung cut himself off and you could see how he put the dots together. The look on his face was hilarious as he turned to Jeongguk with a fierce gaze, "Jeon Jeongguk, what have you done to my baby sister?"

Jeongguk, despite being bigger and stronger, still looked a bit terrified of Taehyung as he squeaked, "Nothing, hyung."

"Nothing, hyung. Hah! Do you take me for an idiot? Something happened. I know it did. What is it?"

You giggled and leaned over to Jeongguk and whispered in his ear, "Don't tell him anything. Watching him squirm and drawing his own conclusions, slowly going insane with curiousity will be much funnier than telling him the truth."

Jeongguk brightened at your suggestion and immediately nodded in agreement.

"What are you two whispering about?" Taehyung demanded, voice higher than normal, despite having the deepest voice of the lot. "Hobi-hyung, tell me what they're saying."

"Sorry, Taehyung-ah, I can't hear." Hoseok said with laughter in his tone.

Yoongi and Jin came in with the food before Taehyung could interrogate you further. Taehyung looked before you and Jeongguk, "This isn't over."

You laughed, looking forward to teasing your brother a bit, when suddenly a hand slipped into yours. You looked at Jeongguk, who was steadfastly avoiding your eyes. You noticed his red ears and smiled softly, twisting your hand so you could lace your fingers through his. As the two of you held hands under the table while eating breakfast, you felt giddy and more excited about the future than you have in a long time.

There was still a lot you and Jeongguk had to talk about, but that was for later. You had enough time to figure it all out. Together.

the end.

[jeagerism]

on the tuesday that george begins to admit to himself that he feels differently about you, it's freezing.

the ac in your shared apartment has been off for weeks at that point, leaving the both of you to shuffle towards the living room earlier on in the day; wrapped in fluffy blankets normally kept on the middle shelf in the hall, torsos bundled up in hoodies—his some old one dream had sent him ages ago, yours one he'd let you borrow after seeing the way you'd shivered in the thin sweater you often inhabited.

george had decided to move out of his mom's house earlier that fall, after he'd endured just as much teasing from sapnap and dream as he could handle. he'd found an apartment easy—mostly thanks to the help of his two friends—but affording one on his own was the issue.

he'd eyed the bright red price marking on his monitor with disdain, and had immediately shut down any attempts dream had at paying for him. his teasing had always been annoying, but george also knew he'd done more than he could thank him for already; he'd traced his finger over the tiny ceramic elephant he kept on his desk.

george had nearly been at his wit's end when sapnap had suggested looking for a roommate. and it had seemed like a good idea; he'd be allowed to pick and choose who it was, analyze what type of person they'd be, if he wanted to share his space for the next year with that person.

which was how he'd met you.

of the few applications george had gotten—from an ad he'd spent hours pouring over, writing and rewriting until it was just right—he'd come back to yours the most. nothing much had stood out about the others, and even less about your own; you'd said you didn't make much mess, that you were still in college, so most nights were spent inside of your room studying.

the next day, he'd watched his phone ring against the counter of the painfully empty apartment, biting at the corner of his nails in nervousness. the thought of hanging up had crossed his mind just before you'd answered, a strange sort of crackle echoing throughout his spot in the kitchen as you let out a short, "hello?"

which was how you'd gotten here. three months later, the fall weather having tumbled it's way into cold, frigid nights and frustratingly windy days. george had spent so much time curled up on the corner of the couch—a couch you'd dragged him to buy on your fourth day here, something about the emptiness being saddening—that he's sure there's a permanent imprint of his form in the cushions. the heat in his room had stopped working the first week of winter; in some way, he thinks it had been a warning.

he'd been facing the television, back against the soft material of the cushions, when his shoulders had gotten strangely cold. a short walk over towards the air conditioning had confirmed his suspicions—the heater had broken, and even after waiting another hour to try again, it had remained a blank, glowing blue screen.

and now, he's here, pressed into the corner of the couch, material sinking under the weight of him trying his best to snuggle into any warmth the cushions may be hiding. you've been sat across from him since earlier that morning, feet tucked underneath you for any sort of heat, hands shoved into the hoodie he'd given you—whenever you move, which isn't very often due to conserving as much body heat as you can, he sees the stitched red logo of his channel against the grey fabric.

minutes into another rerun of some reality show that plays on the television, you speak. "it's cold." it's muffled, george notices, probably due to the way your nose is dug into the bunched material of the hoodie. he hums out an agreement, glancing sadly at his laptop resting atop the coffee table, mere inches away. he thinks of risking it, but as soon as he feels the biting cold against parts of his skin, all thoughts of this go out the window. editing could wait, even if he had to suffer through another shitty fight between two annoyingly loud cast members.

"like, unbearably cold." george likes you. you're a good friend, and you'd been willing to put up with his strange schedule from the moment you'd moved in. he'd never had to ask you to clean up any of your mess, and there were even times when you'd offered to take his turn at dishes when he'd had a lot on his plate. there was nothing to complain about when it came to you, so much so that he'd practically sung praises of you on late night calls with sapnap and dream.

george had even mentioned you on stream once, albeit accidentally, on an occasion where he'd been smiling from ear to ear at the fact that you'd brought him some sort of baked treat—"you look like you needed food, and i doubt you'd look away from your computer too much to eat a full meal"—but nonetheless.

it was with burning cheeks that he'd realised he'd never asked you if that was okay. to admit your presence to hundreds of thousands of people, people you didn't know and that didn't know you, but would obsess over any deal of information about you if it came from george's lips. but, you'd brushed it off with ease when he'd mentioned it, laughing with a soft, "it's perfectly fine, george. you tell them about a lot of your friends, don't you? i'm not any different." and after a beat, you'd stood from your chair, wood scuffing against tile, and had winked at him. "plus, georgenotfound talking about me? i should be flattered, huh?"

george is pretty sure he'd spent the rest of the night thinking about that; quackity had made fun of the way he'd kept zoning out, the way his jackbox answers had been considerably less funny that night.

so he did like you, even if he wasn't so sure what that meant. he knew he liked the way you played songs he liked on cleaning days. that he liked when you'd join him on the couch while he edited videos. bought the kind of soda he liked, even if you didn't. he thinks your spectacular, in the kind of way that makes him feel wide awake, like he's been shocked full of energy from knowing you. he thinks you look pretty in the morning time, stepping out the door for class; at night when you've been stressed over coursework.

the episode ends and another starts in the time it takes george to finally open his mouth to speak. "we could move closer." it's the first thing he's said since he'd asked if you'd wanted coffee earlier, voice as hoarse now from hours of being unused as it had been from the hands of sleep still holding onto him. his arms feel sore as he moved them out—he ignores the stinging cold that nips at his knuckles. a few seconds skip by of silence, his neck swarming with an uncomfortable sort of prickling.

"or no-"

"no! uh, no i mean, that's", george watches the couch dip with your knee dug into it, shuffling your body closer to his until you're fit against his side, pressing his arm against the back of the pillows, "that's good."

"yeah?" you're warm. the heat coming from your body spreads over him like a wildfire—he doesn't mind being burned. for the first time since he'd sent that angry email to your landlord, fueled with the desperate shivering that had taken on his body, he's glad that the heater had broken. he supposes this—george feels your arms wrap a little higher around him, head lean back against his shoulder—was worth the last week of freezing his ass off.

some building sense of courage towers in his chest, gathers in his throat, "hey, i want—"

and george watches as you look at him. what does he want? if he thinks about it, he wants to tell you that he thinks you're wonderful. that he likes that you let him use your shampoo when he runs out. that he remembered the night you'd watched all the austin powers movies with him because he'd been sad, even when you'd had school the next day. he wants to do just as much as you'd done for him in the three months he's known you, more than he could ever repay you for.

another part of him, a part that's selfish and wanting and probably a little too high off of the warmth he's been missing since he'd woken up—wants to kiss you.

he wants to.

so he does.

prompt taken from here : "the landlord still hasn’t repaired the heater in our apartment and we’re already wearing several layers of clothes, we need to find other ways to keep warm"

[waiting-for-motivation]

tea and berries

summary: Din discovers something shocking about the caretaker of his son. Of course he tries everything to help (Y/n).

request: (tw: eating disorder) so reader is friends with cara dune and she's just an ordinary human being, while din, cara & the others are on a mission the reader has to babysit grogu, since it's too dangerous for him. soon din starts to notice that reader doesn't eat and that she's constantly wearing too big clothes that hide her body. he's getting worried and maybe just some fluff?? ~ @notyoursneverwas-post

pairings: Din Djarin x Reader, Cara Dune, Grogu

warnings: trigger warning !!! eating disorder but fluffy mando is here to help :))

words: 1363

a/n: sorry it took soooo long writing this but I hope you still like it (btw kind of inspired by me skipping meals every day)

MASTERLIST REQUEST RULES

“You can have mine“, a female voice whispers and the Mandalorian watches one of his friends pass her food to his adoptive son. The little one giggles happily and starts pushing the meat inside his mouth.

At first, Din smiled under his helmet because (Y/n)s gesture is sweet and caring. But then he realized that she needs some protein in her body too. Besides the kid already had a larger meal than every one else.

The Mandalorian stands up and reaches for Grogus plate but (Y/n) stops him. She lays her small hand on his wrist and shakes her head.

“It‘s okay. I‘m not hungry“, (Y/n) smiles and as Din looks down at her skin touching his glove, his eyes lay on very delicate fingers. He would love to feel her touch him for real - her soft skin against his rough one.

Cara who joined the Mandalorian on a rather difficult bounty hunt raises her eyebrow at her friend. She knows something the warrior doesn‘t know and it hurts her heart. But she knows better than to force (Y/n) to eat.

The two of them continue to eat while (Y/n) watches the foundling mess with his food. Dins eyes stay focused on the caretaker and examines her whole being. Only then does he realize that he never saw (Y/n) in anything but her oversized tunics. Is she hiding something underneath?

“I think I‘m going to take a shower“, (Y/n) says after she put away as well as washed the dishes. She turns around from the makeshift kitchen and smiles at Cara and Din arm wrestling while Grogu sits on his fathers lap. The Mandalorian nods and (Y/n) leaves their field of view.

“Could you take care of her while I‘m gone?“, Cara asks her armed friend, still looking at the door through which (Y/n) left. Slowly, she lets her gaze wander to the Mandalorian who nods. He thinks nothing of it. Cara is her friend. Why wouldn‘t she want (Y/n) to be safe?

Later that day he completely understands what the former shock trooper intended to say. After Cara won their little wrestling, Din left for the cockpit to check on the ship. On his way he got stopped by (Y/n)s door that is ajar. Din didn‘t think anything of it as he let his gaze wander inside the room. The sight of a half naked (Y/n)s changing in her room startles him. (Y/n) doesn‘t notice the Mandalorian standing in the door frame.

Din can see almost every bone in her body. Her collarbones stand out. Under a towel Din can clearly see the outline of her ribs as well as hip bones. Legs as well as arms are nearly as thin as his beskar spear.

Before Din can move he has to swallow hardly. There are even tears in his eyes. At least, (Y/n) is his beloved friend and she looks like she didn‘t took care of herself.

With a queasy feeling the Mandalorian turns around and runs back to Cara. She looks at him confused.

“She...doesn‘t eat“, Din states because that is all he can think of right now. The realisation appears in Caras expression and she stands up to fully face the bounty hunter.

“Yeah. I tried to help her but...she doesn‘t want my help“, the former storm trooper explains and her eyes get glassy. “But we have to help her because otherwise...I don‘t know how long she will...“

Din places a comforting hand on Caras shoulder and squeezes it - that‘s his way of telling her that he will do whatever it may cost. They sit down and for a while silence fills the cargo bay. Both try to think of a way to save their friend.

“Can you make me a list of her favorite food?“, the Mandalorian asks and gets up to find paper as well as a pen. Quickly, he places them in front of Cara and she starts scribbling. “I don‘t know if it will work but...“

“It‘s worth a try.“

Two days later and after a short stop on Naboo the Mandalorian has everything Cara wrote on the list. A lot of food is scattered on a tray which Din holds in one of his hands. He has a few blanket under his right arm.

A knock echos through (Y/n)s room and she looks from her book to the door. Slowly, the mandalorian warrior enters and confuses her. She sets her book aside and stands up from her bed.

Din places the tray full of her favorite food on a table and then turns towards his friend. Now he holds the fluffy blankets in both his hands, fiddling with them because he tries to find the right words. But what are the right words in such a situation?

“I‘m by your side whenever you need me“, the Mandalorian starts and takes another step forward, now standing directly in front of (Y/n). Her eyes widen because she already fears that her friend knows her secret. A strange feeling fills her whole body - anxiety.

“You are not alone. Cara and I will help you, no matter what“, Din adds the moment (Y/n) opens her mouth to ask him what he is talking about. But now she is sure that the bounty hunter knows that she has problems with eating.

“I got you these blankets because the Crest is always cold and I don‘t want you to be cold“, Din states and would hit his own head because the sentence sounds quite stupid. Still, he wraps the two blankets around (Y/n)s small form and even keeps one of his hands on her shoulder.

“And with Caras help I brought your favorite food. I know it will be difficult to start with so much but I even made you this tea you like so much“, the Mandalorian points with the other hand to the tray. As he looks back at (Y/n) he can see the fear in her eyes. She swallows hardly.

“But it‘s only tea“, Din adds with a sigh and a sad expression under his helmet. He should have planed this better. Now he frightened (Y/n). Maybe he should have entrust this to Cara, at least she is an old friend.

Before Din can overthink even more, (Y/n) wraps her weak arms around the warrior and hides her face in his neck. It can‘t be comfortable but that doesn‘t matter to her. She takes in his whole being and sighs almost happily.

“Thank you“, (Y/n) whispers into his shirt and makes Dins heart beat even faster. He can‘t believe it. He did it! He helped (Y/n) somehow. He made her happy - even for just a few seconds.

The thing making (Y/n) relived is that the Mandalorian didn‘t ask one question. It would have put her under pressure.

After what feels like a good eternity, the two part but before they take seats on (Y/n)s bed, Din presses the forehead of his helmet to hers in a keldabe kiss. The caretaker closes her eyes and shows the Mandalorian a weak smile.

Sitting on (Y/n)s bed, she leans against Dins strong shoulder and for a few moments they stay like this, enjoying the presence of the other. Then (Y/n) straightens up.

“Can I have the tea?“, she asks and surprises the bounty hunter with her words. However, Din reaches quite quickly for the cup of tea and gives it (Y/n). She thanks him but her eyes stay focused on the tray.

“Are those berries? I used to eat them straight from the bush in my families garden“, (Y/n) tells her beloved friend and watches Din take the bowl full of blue berries in his hands. He lets the gaze of his helmet wander to her face because he isn‘t sure if she wants to eat them.

(Y/n) takes a sip from the steaming tea and slowly grabs a single blue berry. There is a dreamy smile on her lips as she eyes the fruit and considers eating it. Then the berry disappears between her lips and Din smiles under his helmet.

“Just because you are a caretaker doesn‘t mean we can‘t take care of you.“

star wars taglist: @shadowfoxey @luvzoria @remmyswritings @periwinklehoney @maximumcoffeeme

din taglist: @hp-hogwartsexpress

[deadpcnned]

the gamble of the heart | chapter 2 (r.l.)

chapter two: repression

series masterlist

previous chapter

pairing: remus lupin x potter!reader

chapter summary: y/n pursues her relationship with mason and sees the repercussions on remus. and herself. 

warnings: swearing, kissing, alcohol 

wordcount: 3.8k

a/n: new chapter! the next chapter is shorter so i’ll have it up sometime this week. 

“Stop,” Y/N drawled, but she made no effort to move the arms that were holding her in place. “I should probably say hello to my friends.” As Y/N used her fingers to comb through Mason’s blond locks, she couldn’t help the content smile that fought its way onto her face. 

“Probably - but I think I’ll miss you too much,” Mason mumbled against her lips. Y/N knew if she let him kiss her she would never get the chance to even glance at her friends. There was just something about Mason that drew her towards him. It was like whenever Mason Tomlinson was in question, Y/N was physically being pushed towards him and she would find herself doing things she’d never expected. It was a wonder to her how she fell for him as quickly as she had. 

There was no doubt that Mason Tomlinson was handsome and extremely charismatic, yet Y/N would have never guessed that she would feel as strongly as she did for him after only two weeks. She always considered herself to be a practical person, but when Mason looked at her with his big green eyes, she lost any pragmaticism. And Mason knew how to take advantage of that. 

“Mmm, Mase. You know I’ll stay if you ask me to,” Y/N pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips and they twitched slightly beneath hers. 

“I’m asking, love,” Groaning, Y/N placed her head against Mason’s chest before pushing herself away from his grasp. She looked through the doors to the Great Hall and could see all of the strangers she was so shamelessly flirting with her boyfriend in front of. 

“Nope,” She said, giving him a pointed look. “I am going to sit with my house today. You’ll just have to miss me.” 

“Will you miss me?” She would. That was the strange thing about her recent affair. It was like when she wasn’t with Mason she was floating purposelessly. It was as though she was a kite and he was the piece of string that was keeping her from floating out into space. Her independent streak was something Y/N had always valued, but since meeting Mason it was like she never wanted to be away from him. 

“You know I will,” An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of her stomach as she noted the jovial expression on Mason’s face. Why couldn’t she stay away from him? 

After departing from Mason, Y/N took the familiar path to the Gryffindor table. As she noticed three familiar boys, she smiled to herself. Suddenly, she was half walking and half skipping towards her best friends. When she reached she threw her arms around Peter from behind and squealed. 

Hi, boys,” she giggled, not noticing the dry expressions on their faces. “Did you miss me?” She took a seat next to Peter and surveyed their faces carefully. Who pissed in their pumpkin juice?

“Tomlinson busy today, Y/N?” Sirius accused. 

“No? I just wanted to sit here today. Are you guys mad?”

“Yes,” James shrugged. “You haven’t spoken to us in two weeks, because of your new friend.” Oh. Y/N had been so consumed in Mason she didn’t realize she was neglecting her closest friends. 

“I’m so sorry, you guys. I guess I didn’t realize I was doing that,” She offered, her hand reaching out to hold James’ hand from across the table. Upon feeling his hand squeeze hers, she let out a relieved breath. 

“We’ll forgive you on one condition, Y/N” Sirius mused, the shadow of his mischievous smirk evident. Y/N quirked her eyebrow at him, prompting him to continue. “You have to tell us everything.”

Y/N began to gush endlessly about her boyfriend and was so enthralled in the topic that she hadn’t noticed a fourth figure appear in the seat beside James. As Y/N finished explaining how Mason had asked her out after a few days of sharing a class, she looked up only to have the air knocked out of her lungs. 

“Remus,” His name had left her mouth just like it had a million times before, but now it was leaving a bitter taste behind. He nodded his head towards her before starting to fill his plate with some toast and meat. While watching him Y/N barely caught the rest of the boys telling Remus that they needed to finish morning detention and they’d see him in class. 

The last time Y/N and Remus had spoken was a few weeks prior when she had sent him an owl over summer vacation. She felt another odd ache in her stomach, but it sharply contrasted the feeling she had with Mason. This was different. It was like when she was with Mason she couldn’t help but want to be near him, but with Remus, she wanted to want him close. But that couldn’t be possible. She liked Mason immensely so why was she still experiencing residual feelings for Remus? 

Y/N couldn’t help but analyze every detail of the boy in front of her. He had cut his hair slightly shorter (which he did at the start of every school year) and it had become a slightly lighter shade of brown, likely due to the summer sun. She also winced as she looked at the new scar that trailed from the back of his hand and disappeared under his robes. 

“Rough full moon?” Remus looked up at Y/N, started for a couple of seconds, and returned his gaze to his food. Y/N looked around the Great Hall awkwardly before starting again. “How have you been, Rem? Been a few weeks since we last talked.”

Y/N was met with a deafening silence and a shrug from Remus, but she noticed that he had taken the luxury of rolling his eyes, as well. 

“Right, well… oh I’m not sure if you know, but I’ve got a boyfriend now,” Remus snapped his head up, an indecipherable look on his face. “Would you like to meet him?”  Remus looked away, but when he looked back at her, Y/N wished she hadn’t ever said anything. He looked furious.  

“No, not really,” Remus finally said, before getting up from his seat and storming off. 

Y/N watched him as he walked away and felt her head begin to spin. It would be idiotic for her to act like she didn’t know why Remus was so angry, but she never wanted to confront those feelings. She was terrified for the moment that someone would ask her what happened between her and Remus. Because the truth was she had no idea. What she and Remus had was real, she knew that. But ever since she met Mason it was like something had shifted. Suddenly the only thing on her mind was Mason, Mason, Mason. Seeing Remus had awakened something in her she hadn’t felt in weeks and she hated it. So she was going to do the only thing that made sense. She was going to repress her unwanted feelings so far down, she’d forget they existed. 

—

These days the word Quidditch could seldom be spoken at Hogwarts without someone associating it with the Potter name. That was for two very competitive and very proud reasons: James and Y/N Potter. The Potters had an aptitude for the game and everyone at their school knew it. 

Y/N and James often argued over which Potter was the most valuable asset on the team. “If it wasn’t for me being a seeker, the game would go on for ages. I literally win us the games,” James would argue to which Y/N would say, “You must be joking, James. If it wasn’t for me constantly throwing bloody bludgers at the opposing team’s seeker, you’d never catch that snitch.” 

But regardless, Quidditch was the thing that connected the cousins most. Growing up, Quidditch was all the pair knew and for Y/N it had become an escape. There was something about being so high in the air as the wind blew harshly against her skin that made her feel free. Maybe it was the fact that not many people could reach her when she was flying through the sky or maybe it was simply the thrill of the game. 

“Ready, Potter?” Marlene yelled as Y/N adjusted her helmet. “What about you, other Potter?” The two cousins grinned as they approached each other. 

“On the count of three,” James began. “1, 2 —” Before he finished his countdown the two Potter kids each raised their right hands and clasped them together. Laughing maniacally they thrust themselves into their pregame ritual (which was a very poorly executed handshake-dance combo), effectively filling the locker room with loud laughter.

“We are now, Mar.”

With that, the team began their walk to the Quidditch pitch. Y/N bounced on her feet as they approached the crowded arena, a habit she had when she got excited. It was the first game of the year and against Slytherin no less. She knew that if they won this game the party was going to be absolutely insane, which was, of course, all a Gryffindor could ask for. 

The game had gotten intense as soon as Madam Hooch had blown her whistle. The Slytherin Beaters were giving Y/N a run for her money, but luckily the Gryffindors had been able to hold their own. Regulus Black, who was the Slytherin seeker, was taunting James playfully as they each kept an eye out for the snitch. Y/N was close enough to James to see how his attention began to shift from Regulus’ face to beside his head and then back. He had seen the snitch. And it was right next to Regulus. 

Y/N could easily distract Regulus, who was too caught up in teasing his brother’s mate to properly prepare himself against a hit from her Bludger. She also knew that if James tried to grab the snitch, Regulus would have it in his hands in a second. The younger Black brother was known for his quick reflexes after all. The decision was easy.  

Making one lap around the pitch to gain momentum, she shot her Bludger right at Regulus who with a horrified look ducked the ball. At that moment James leaped forward on his broom and grabbed the snitch. The stadium erupted in cheers so loud not a single Slytherin’s disappointment could be heard.

“And the Potter’s have done it again! They really are a dream team.” With a triumphant smile, Y/N made her way down and was quickly thrown into a circle of people where she found James right in the center. 

“Nice one, cuz,” James winked, happily relishing in all the attention he was receiving. 

“Yeah, mate. You too,” Y/N followed James out of the crowd of excited Gryffindors but they were looking for two completely different people. Y/N watched James look around for either Sirius or Lily (she didn’t know who he’d look for first these days) and she found herself looking for one boy in particular. Mason. 

Instead of the image of a blond boy dressed in a repulsive blue (Mason had refused to wear the Gryffindor colors), she found herself staring at a taller boy who was donning her favorite colors. Remus had not only worn a scarlet cable knit sweater (which it was way too warm for) and yellow-gold scarf, but he was wearing a beanie that was meant to give the appearance of a lion’s mane He had also used muggle paint on his face. His left cheek had a red number seven and the right revealed a very badly drawn snitch. He looked utterly stupid. But the worst part of it all was he was dressed almost exactly as he had at the last Quidditch game of the previous year. 

In the past two years that Y/N had played Quidditch on the Gryffindor team, this game had definitely been her best. The Gryffindors had just secured the Quidditch cup, which Y/N thought was the best way to end her fifth year. Y/N’s performance in the last game of the year just made it that much sweeter. 

“I reckon you played alright, Potter,” Remus smirked. He had been right in front of her as soon as her feet had touched the grass beneath her. Waiting for her. Like he had at every one of her games. 

“You know I did a lot better than alright, Lupin,” She shoved his chest, but before she could move her hand he had flattened her palm against his chest. 

“Yeah, you did,”  She was only distracted from his intense gaze when she heard Sirius let out a wolf whistle at the sight. Remus let go of her hand, blushing slightly as he glared at Sirius. 

“Oh, shut it,” Y/N scolded. She nodded her head to the right, indicating for Remus to follow her. After walking a little while longer, they had found themselves walking on the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest. Remus had grabbed a hold of Y/N’s hand as soon as they were out of everyone’s sight. She glanced over at him deciding that he had dressed warm enough for the cold that was invading the new spring season. She stared a little longer to get a better look at his painted face and eclectic accessory. She wanted to laugh, but the sound died in her throat as she took a better look at his cheek. 

There on his right cheek was a big number five. Her Quidditch number. 

“You look utterly stupid,” Y/N insulted him, though she had intended to say something else that had been on her mind. She and Remus had reached a weird sort of limbo. They had gone from just being a part of the same friend group to being each other’s best friends in their fourth year and now they were here. In their fifth year, Y/N and Remus had spent the majority of it flirting and being affectionate with one another. However, they were still technically not a couple. They had spent so long being each other’s friends that it was second nature to make jabs at one another in good spirit. Y/N liked it that way. She liked the healthy balance of romance and humor they shared. Only at this moment, she wished she had told him how happy he made her. But Remus, like he always did, understood. 

“Wanted you to know that I’m your biggest fan,” Remus stopped walking and softly pulled Y/N closer, positioning them to be face to face. 

“Are you? My biggest fan, I mean?” Her voice had fallen to a whisper despite no one being near.  

“Without a doubt,” Remus said fervently, his voice just as low as hers. “I know your parents might disagree, but no one’s as big a fan of yours as I am. I promise you that.” Remus brought one of his hands up to her cheek and stroked her cheek with the pad of his thumb. Lowering himself slightly he placed a kiss on her cheek before hovering over her lips. Y/N’s heart was beating harshly against her ribcage and she felt like her feet were lifting off the ground. Remus had a way of doing that to her. Whenever he was this close to her, she felt like she was back on her broom floating inches above the ground. He had a way of giving her that freeing sensation even when she was trapped under his lustful gaze. Moving forward just a little more, Remus teasingly grazed his lips against hers. 

“Remus,” she whined, earning an innocent hum from him. “Just fucking kiss me.” And boy did he kiss her. No matter how many times she had felt his lips against hers, it never failed to amaze her how much better each kiss got. He kissed her slowly, probably to continue to tease her, but she found herself enjoying it more than he could’ve intended. His lips were soft, contrasting hers which were chapped from the wind but she didn’t care. The taste of mint and chocolate was intoxicating and she was losing herself in his touch. She hardly noticed when he pushed her against a tree, kissing her harder than before. Remus pulled back slightly only to dive right back to kissing her. After doing that a couple more times, he hesitantly kissed down her neck. No, please don’t stop, Y/N thought. 

With one last kiss on her neck, Remus mumbled against her skin, “We should probably get back.” Remus had one hand on her waist and the other pressed against the tree behind her, keeping her in her spot. 

“Don’t wanna,” She pouted and she felt Remus groan against her neck. “I wanna stay with you.”  Sighing, Remus pulled back and placed his hands on her cheeks. He used his fingers to warm up the apples of her cheek which were bright red from possibly more than just the stubborn cold air. 

“And I want to stay here with you, but you promised Lily that you would help her with some work before the party tonight,” Y/N laughed because that response was so Remus. Making sure that she kept her word and did what she had to. Taking care of her in an unconventional way. She gave him another peck and just looked at him with adoring eyes. “What?”

“Nothing, you’re just something really special. You make me feel elated, you know that, Remus Lupin?” Remus beamed at her and kissed her again. Just hard enough to express his bliss, but not get them stuck in the forest for another fifteen minutes. 

“I think that’s why we were put in each other’s paths,” Remus’ words caused Y/N to draw her eyebrows together in confusion. “I mean, call it fate, destiny, or just insignificant chance, but I think we were meant to know each other. Just for that. To elate each other. Don’t you think, Y/N?” 

“Y/N?” Y/N was drawn out of her trance and when she blinked Remus wasn’t in front of her anymore. Instead, she was staring at green eyes and a blue sweater. 

“Hm?”

“I said don’t you think?” Mason said, only now realizing Y/N had been completely lost in thought. “Here, you must be tired. Have some of my juice.” Finally blinking out of her daze, Y/N properly took in the boy in front of her. 

“Babe! I’m sorry I didn’t even realize you were there,” She immediately jumped up to kiss him and with each second she felt any thoughts of Remus disappear. Besides, they shouldn’t have been there in the first place. Repress. Repress. Repress. 

“I noticed,” Mason attempted to sound lighthearted, but there was an edge to his voice. “Uh, any way you wanna do something before the party tonight?” She nodded her head and let herself be dragged away from the bustling crowd around her. But not before she realized she could feel a smoldering gaze directed towards her. 

—

A crowded common room, the smell of firewhiskey, and deafening music was without a doubt Y/N’s second favorite feeling after flying. If there was a party at Hogwarts you could bet you’d find Y/N carelessly dancing or making a spectacle of herself for others’ entertainment. And the person right next to her? Always Sirius Black. 

There was no reason tonight’s party was any different. Sirius was downing Firewhiskey straight from the bottle with one hand and spinning Y/N in circles with his other. The music in the back was pulsing through their veins just as much as the alcohol was and they were horridly singing the lyrics of the song in the background. 

“Potter.”

“Black.”

“Don’t let that Ravenclaw make you into a drag.”

“Never,” she whispered her face inches apart from his. 

“All I need to hear.”

The two probably would’ve kept dancing if Mason hadn’t wrapped an arm around Y/N and pulled her away from Sirius. The alcohol mixed with the sheer excitement she had seeing Mason in front of her, compelled her to grab a hold of his collar and kiss him as hard as she could. Lost in his touch, she ignored Sirus’ drunken “gross” and continued to sloppily make out with him. Eventually, they had reached the corner of the common room and unabashedly deepened their kiss. 

The most surprising part? Y/N was doing the most kissing. She was leaving purple bruises along his neck and biting his ear. She was running her hands up his arms and pulling at the collar of his shirt. She didn’t know why and she didn’t know how she was doing this in a room full of people. All she knew was something about this boy was so spellbinding and she needed to feel him against her. But she was halted from fulfilling her needs by someone pulling her off Mason. 

Her eyes met Remus’ bloodshot ones, which she assumed were caused by the empty bottle of Firewhiskey in his grasp. Pushing him off her, she stepped back a bit trying to gather her thoughts.

“Remus, what-” She was cut off by Remus' discordant voice.

“No - no. I -” He hiccuped, pointing an accusing finger to Y/N. “You… you suck.”

“Remus, you’re drunk-” she started again, but to her dismay, she was cut off again. 

“NO. I - no, you’re going to listen. You said - you said you, in your last letter, you know what you said. So if it was true how could you be w-with him,” Remus growled as his eyes trained on Mason’s slowly reddening face. “How can you act like we never happened?” 

Y/N flicked her eyes towards Mason and gulped as she noticed how angry he looked. She had never really talked to Mason about her past with Remus because he had never asked, but judging by the look on his face he didn’t want the conversation to be prompted by Remus insulting him. Luckily, Y/N was saved by James.

“Remus, c’mon. Now isn’t the time,” He mumbled. He held a sympathetic look in his eyes as he looked at Y/N, but she had a feeling the sympathy in his voice wasn’t for her. 

“No, Prongs. She needs t - to tell me,” In his frenzied state, Remus had tucked his head into the bespectacled boy's neck.  

“Okay, mate, but not right now.” Y/N watched as James led a babbling Remus up to his dorm, her heart clenching. She had done this to him. She had betrayed him, his trust, his heart.  She betrayed him and when he asked her why she couldn’t even tell him. She wouldn’t be able to tell him or herself, because she truly didn’t know why. 

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