#hey remember all your crushing anxieties about the world right now????

[thunderheadfred]

Mmmjmmhkmmmmmm anxiety my old friend hello

#now that school is on break #whenever I’m not cramming bg3 down my gullet #my brain is like #hey remember all your crushing anxieties about the world right now???? #let’s obsess about THOSE in a helpless fashion

[cute-as-buttons]

could not resist trying my hand at a drabble after seeing this post by @wanderingbards

spoilers for act 1 under the cut!!

(no traps here.)

“we're good, mira.“ you smile. ”see? everything's fine.”

you stand there, and a moment too late you realise that maybe, just maybe, you'd perhaps been wrong.

and as you live through the novel experience of your body being crushed by a rock, you feel a tug on your stomach. And-

[loop 1]

you sleepily open your eyes. your body feels sore.

were you on the ground too long?

you close your eyes again and breathe out. around you, you can hear the chirping of birds, and you know just a few moments away, is the bright and chattering town of dormont, who've still managed to keep up the levity even though the world might end tomorrow.

but it won't. because you and your friends will stop the king and save vaugard.

after all this time, your journey is nearing its end.

you smile, thinking of how much they've all grown since you've known them. you've been travelling for as long as you can remember, and while your memory has never been your greatest strength, you do know that this is the happiest you've ever been.

the sun is shining, peaking from behind the clouds, the air is warm and you and your party will make sure that the warmth carries over into tomorrow.

you will win. you have to.

(get up, siffrin. you have a country to save.)

you dust the stray leaves that found your way onto your cloak and hat when you hear a voice calling out your name.

“-frin!”

oh, yeah it's almost midday, you probably overslept. oh well, you had a nice nap.

you yawn and call out.

“i'm here!”

you barely get in a “hey, mira-!” she crushes you in a hug. you stiffen, your arms hanging at your sides. you don't know how to react.

is…this the first time she's done that? hugged you?

huh. weird.

she pulls back a second later, and you're about to crack a joke when you see her face.

mirabelle has always been an anxious person, but this feels…different. somehow.

she's always been anxious, but right now she looks terrified.

“i'm so sorry, i didn't mean to touch you, i was just so afraid i wouldn't find you here-” she says, clasping her hands together. she looks like she's about to explode in a ball of anxiety and burst into tears.

(didn't mean to touch you?)

you're so confused.

“hey, hey, mira,“ you say, gesturing to her. ”slow down. breathe with me?“

you put your hand on your chest and gesture for mirabelle to follow.

deep breath in. deep breath out.

you smile a little at her when she stops shaking.

”better?“

she nods.

”okay, now, what's wrong? what happened?“

something about you is bothering her. but you don't know what.

”i…“ mira looks at you, almost like she's in…awe? “do you not remember?”

your breath catches at that.

(what is it, what did you forget this time? was it a birthday, an anniversary? what did you forget??)

mirabelle looks upset.

YOU MADE MIRABELLE UPSET!!

(You need to rectify your heinous crime right now.)

“no, of course i remember,” you say quickly, trying desperately to figure out what you might've forgotten. “we were supposed to meet at the clock tower, and tomorrow we go and defeat the king and save vaugard! right?”

you look to her for confirmation. she looks at you like she's going to cry.

(wait…)

”wait,“ you say, shaking your head in confusion. ”what did you mean that you were “afraid you wouldn't find me here”? i told you guys i'd be here if you needed me right?“

(did you forget to did you forget to did you forget to did you-)

something in mira's face changes. she sighs and shakes her head. you're so so confused.

and you can tell that mira doesn't seem to be in the mood for answers. you get it. so…

”did you,” you start, smiling a little. a little smirk just to let her know you're teasing. “fall asleep and have a nightmare?”

it's an out, and she takes it.

she shakily nods and tries to laugh. it comes out more as a whimper.

“yeah, i guess that must've been it,” she says. “i'll be in the town if you need me.”

you watch her leave.

something is going on with her, and you don't know what it is, but you intend to find out.

maybe something happened while you were asleep. you should

#isat act 1 spoilers #isat #in stars and time #in stars and time spoilers #might make this a whole fic if ppl wanna read more<3 #isat siffrin #isat mirabelle #sara scribbles

[darkened-writer]

Forget-Me-Not | Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary || Eddie's love of Chrissy does not go unnoticed by his best friend and co-leader of Hellfire, Y/N. And, as he starts getting sickly and pale, both Y/N and Eddie come to some much needed realizations before it's too late.

Pairings || Eddie Munson x Female!Reader , Eddie Munson x Chrissy Cunningham (unrequited)

Warnings || Hanahaki Disease AU, ANGST, cursing, extremely detailed about blood, wretching, and internal anguish.

Word Count || 2,309

A/N || This fic came to me due to @queers-gambit 's amazing Hanahaki fics about Eddie, so give their fics some love !! Also, Chrissy is 17-18 yrs old, Eddie is 19, and the reader is 18+!

Crimson, orange, and yellow leaves fell from the trees of Hawkins, Illinois, the beginning of Fall rolling around which called for students to attend school once again. Eddie Munson dreaded the idea of having to study or listen to the drone of any of his teachers’ voices, however, he remembered the perk of attending school again. Hellfire Club, and Chrissy Cunningham, the Princess of Hawkins High.

Just about all of his friends were aware of his raging love that was blooming in his chest for the sweet cheerleader, his eyes on her and only her. And, maybe if he looked at her enough, whatever God that ruled this realm would grant him the luck of taking her out on a date of a lifetime. However, through getting caught up with those thought of grandeur, he neglected his major hobby, DnD. Himself, and his co-leader/Best Friend, were in charge of the campaign for the school year, which you had called formally, “THE CULT OF VECNA!” The whole group was ecstatic to get to build up a world and defeat monsters and enemies alike, Dustin Henderson being the most excited of the bunch.

“HEY!”

You were snapping your fingers in front of Eddie’s face, causing him to blink rapidly and regain focus of his sight. And, of course, he was staring at his “Damsel in Distress”.

“We need to discuss some of the NPCS we’re gonna be playing as, set up some quests and such… Hey... are you even listening to me?”

With a turn of the head, the whole group watched as Jason Carver wrapped his varsity jacket around Chrissy’s shoulders, placing a well-versed kiss on her forehead. From the corner of your vision, you could see Eddie’s hands now in fists, shaking with anxiety? Insecurity? Or maybe anger? However, he was actually holding back a groan of pain from the tightness in his chest, which felt like a rubber band being stretched, stretched and not being released.

“E-Excuse me...-!”

Your eyes watched as your best friend left in such a hurry, throwing his lunch in the trash and setting the tray on a lone table before speed walking to leave the cafeteria. Maybe, he just needed some time alone to process seeing his crush of several years being given affection from a boy that most would label Eddie’s “enemy”. Of course, one could assume that it was a friendly gesture? She could’ve been cold and need a jacket. But, the kiss on the forehead spoke otherwise. 

He’ll be fine, right? 

A strangled noise leapt from his throat, his knees on the rough textured tile of the boy’s restroom. His ring-adorned hands clutched the porcelain bowl, knuckles turning white as he coughed and coughed, and COUGHED. But, the damn heaviness in the back of his throat would not come out, so he resulted in sticking his fingers down his throat, first removing his rings which he set down on his now discarded leather jacket and denim vest, folded gently on the floor. And, with a deep breath in, he slid his fingers gently into his mouth, going backwards until he got to the uvula, but he felt something wet… and slimy, and the smell of iron hit his nostrils as he grabbed the mysterious thing in his mouth, and began to steadily pull it out.

Small and blue petals were in between his pointer and thumb, blood dripping slightly from the petals, and the foam of his saliva mixing with it.

Blood?

BLOOD!

“Oh FUCK!”

He frantically wiped his fingers on his jeans, the petals falling slowly to the floor, and he couldn’t help but gasped to himself, eyes wide open in a nerve-wrecking expression. He was confused, concerned, scared, and most of all, exhausted. With some of his minimal energy, he grabbed his rings, and shoved them in his jean pockets, putting on his leather jacket and denim vest before exiting the stall to wash his hands, but when he looked in the mirror, he looked WAY worse for wear.

A fresh sheen of sweat over his face, neck, and any exposed piece of skin. Now drying blood now crusting over his lips, and still in his teeth. He turned the faucet on and cupped his hands, bringing the water up to his face to give himself a boost of energy and clean the remnants of blood on his lips. He filtered more water into his mouth, gurgling it and spitting it out into the sink, eyes locking with the few new petals which were now damp with blood-stained water. A chill went through his body, making him shudder and chitter his teeth.

“Fuck… I got to find out what this shit is…”

He used the sink to hoist himself up and make his way out of the bathroom, leaving the blue petals in the sink to taunt him from afar.

After the school day, you walked home to get ready for Hellfire, making sure you had the signature Hellfire tee-shirt on and your binder of quests, NPCS, and encounters for the players. But, when you arrived at the room, Eddie wasn’t there, the room was quiet.

“Eds…?”

Switching the light on, everything was untouched from the last school year’s campaign. Eddie’s throne still adorned with a red, velvety blanket that he had used as a cloak as he had acted out being an old woman at a market. The memory still rousing a laugh from your mind, hearing Eddie’s rendition of an old lady voice within the confines of your mind.

With a thud, you set your binder down and began to set up the campaign by yourself, fully expecting Eddie to arrive to come help, but he didn’t, instead, all of the players arrived, marveling at the decoration, until the question came up.

“Where the hell is Eddie?”

Dustin nudged Mike, “Probably in his trailer, smoking canabisssss..!” He accentuated the s for some odd flare but stopped when I gave him a look of disappointment.

“He gets the day off, since his lady love left his feeling unrequited. But, if you guys are worried… I’ll stop by his trailer after the campaign.”

They had all agreed that it was a good idea, and you took a seat in Eddie’s throne, placing your hands together in an evil way.

“Now, dear travelers… be wary as this adventure will be treacherous but rewarding. Welcome, to the CULT OF VECNA!”

Eddie wasn’t at the trailer, the door being opened by his uncle, who had a worried look on his face but invited you in otherwise to wait for Eddie to arrive. He had spoken about how Eddie burst into the trailer in a hurry and promptly shut himself into the bathroom for about three hours, coughing and throwing up, before suddenly leaving in his van. And, when he checked the bathroom, strange flower petals were left in Eddie’s wake, which he had showed you the ones he could salvage, in a plastic bag which you took.

You had decided that it would be good to research any illnesses tied into “Coughing” up flowers, making your way to the local library and searching like a mad woman. But, when all had seemed lost, the librarian came over and asked if she could help search, noting the desperate look in your eye.

“My friend has been sick recently, and coughed up some flowers… is there any books that talk about whatever illness this is? I just… want to help him.”

The librarian’s expression turned solemn as she held a finger up to tell me to wait a second before, she took off in a speed-walk towards a section of books labeled, ‘Illness and Death’. A red book was clutched in her pale hands as she gently set it down in front of you, the words catching your eye, ‘Hanahaki Disease’.

“Mr. Munson, what you have is called Hanahaki disease.”

The fluorescent lights of the doctor’s office were blinding to Eddie, his pupils fully blown with the veins red and stretching across the whites of his eyes, to say he looked like shit was an understatement.

“What… What is that?”

“Essentially, due to a one-sided love, your heartbreak is killing you. It starts as petals but the longer you wait, full blossoms will begin to bloom along with vines and leaves that will wrap around your lungs and heart, until eventually, you will choke on your own blood and flowers…”

The ringing in his ears got loud, loud to where the doctors’ words were now just a part of the noise in his mind. His own heartbreak was killing him, Chrissy Cunningham was killing him. And, when he’d die, no one would miss him except the Hellfire club and his Uncle, he would still go down as the Freak of Hawkins High, the boy who would never graduate.

“But, you can have the flowers removed, before it gets any worse. The only downside being that you will no longer be able to love, and any memory of the person you loved will be a faded memory. Or, you can find love from an unlikely person in your life, and fall in love with them, and as long as that is two-sided, the flowers will all disappear from your system.”

The coughs started again, and the doctor handed Eddie a few tissues, the boy nodding as thanks before blue was all within the tissues.

“Do… do you know this-this flower? I’m no good with names...-”

“Forget-Me-Nots.”

Eddie nodded at the name, suddenly remembering whose favorite flower it was. Y/N.

“They mean Faithful Love and Fidelity within German folktales, but also means a token of remembrance. You gift it to someone whom you want to remember you.”

Eddie set down a stack of cash which he had saved up over time to pay for the doctors’ visit, the doctor sliding the cash back towards Eddie with a pursed mouth.

“No need, only pay if you want the surgery. But, for now, take it as a pity visit…”

“So, you’re telling me, my best friend is DYING?!” Your voice raised, only to be shushed by the librarian.

“He can survive, but he has to choose.”

“I HAVE TO FIND HIM! I- I CANNOT lose him.” You arose to your feet, clutching the book in your hands till your knuckles became discolored, tears wheeling up in your eyes. 

“He’s been through everything with me, middle school, early high school, every time I broke a bone, every time he got into fist fights, it was US. And I’m not going to let THIS kill him.” And, with a determined look on your face, you stormed out of the library on a mission. Save Eddie’s life.

You drove back to his uncle’s trailer, waiting to see Eddie’s shitty van pull up to confront him about his sudden illness, and after about thirty minutes of mere silence and tapping your fingers on your steering wheel, his van finally pulled up, his shoulders hung as he got out, but his face obscured by his messy nest of hair.

Getting out from your car, you yelled for him, noting the dark clouds hanging over the heads of you both, but as you came closer, Eddie stopped walking and turned toward you, and his appearance was horrendous.

Dark circles under his eyes, mocking an almost real black eye. Sweat was beading down his face, making his hair slightly damp, and his skin had become ghostly pale, but what caught you eye was the blood on his lips and the blue petal hanging off of his bottom lip like food he forgot to wipe off.

“Eddie…?”

His face started to contort in anguish as he began to cough, just about falling to his knees, but you caught him before he could. And the flowers now on the grass had made your eyes widen. Forget-Me-Nots, your favorite flower, now leaving your best friend’s mouth, and it was killing him.

“Eddie… I can’t lose you to this… I know what’s going on, the-the Hanahaki.”

His whole body was shivering, as he seemingly embraced you in a makeshift hug, silent as a mouse.

“I love you… God... I’ve loved you way too long to lose you now…”

His body stiffened, and he kept his grip on you, however, his mind was racing through all of the moments he had shared with you. All the times you patched him up, all the times he held your hand as you were resting from a sickness, all the times you both cuddled on his bed and listened to Mötley Crüe to drown out the rest of the world and your shared problems, it was always you.

“I...Love y-you too. I love you too.”

And, just like that, the rain fell, and his lungs cleared.

        A. WEEK. LATER.

“You really started the campaign without ME?!” Eddie’s shocked face caused all of the Hellfire Club to laugh, your own face faking shock.

“Well, sickness be damned, I wasn’t about to let our dear players go a night without some good storytelling!” you leaned into his shoulder, his lips finding your head. Ever since we had both realized our love for each other, the doctor had cleared Eddie as completely cured of the Hanahaki disease, giving him a pat on the back. And, during the whole week after the fact, we both spent a lot of time together, going on our first official date and cuddling for hours on end. To say you were both happy as can be, would be an accurate observation.

Eddie’s uncle was beyond worried for him while he was gone and when you both had explained what had happened to Eddie, his uncle could only hug the boy and thank the stars that he was actually okay.

“So, you moved on from Chrissy?” Mike had asked with a curious glance at the head kiss Eddie had given on you.

“I found a far more loyal love, one that was just in front of me. And I don’t think I’ll ever forget it…” The forget-me-not that was behind your ear that framed your face, shone under the lights of the room, a symbol of a love neither of you would forget.

#xreader #fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #hanahaki #eddie x chrissy

[septembersghost]

Jess, hey, darling. I'm sorry I still haven't replied to your message (please forgive me), just something quick I wanted to say. I wish I could give you a hug and I'm sorry for the struggles you're going through. I hardly know anything and staying away from all the drama but I KNOW how important it is to have your safe, comfort place, and when it gets taken away it can feel crushing and very painful. I think I understand why you're missing Dean. There was a time in my life when I THOUGHT I'd recovered, but then some painful, or confusing/disorienting, or otherwise overwhelming situation hit and I'd start missing him like crazy, because I needed comfort and rest and I tried to reconnect. We need our safe place and our comfort characters when we are in pain, when we are tired, when the world isn't making sense anymore. It's not something I talked about, but recently I had a series of anxiety attacks and crying fits at night, and on Friday night during one of those I also accidentally flipped over a cup of scalding water over my hand. What helped me with the pain and helped me fall asleep was… listening to my comfort character's voice. Didn't even matter what he was saying, it was just simply hearing his voice and imagining he's there (thank god it's a podcast and he can talk for hours.) I'm doing a lot better now, but I remembered how I used to do the same thing with Dean. There was once a whole audio file I made which was literally just him talking, it lasted like an hour and a half and consisted of hundreds tiny moments which I collected throughout the show. Sadly, it's gone now, but there was a time it used to help. What I want to say, things like this ARE important and your connection to your faves IS important and valuable, it's totally okay to miss them, it's okay to love them and to need them, it's okay to wish they were here right now. I understand your pain, I wish I knew how to help. But no matter what, he'd always be there for you, because that's what comfort characters do: they're here for us. Always, as long as we need them. And nothing can take that away. And no matter what, I hope you can find solace and comfort and a bit of peace. I'm giving you a hug but I'm ALSO encouraging you to imagine that Dean is giving you a hug, because he absolutely would and because he'll always be there for you.

hi Ellie my dearheart!!! 💕 please don't apologize, considering i still have the message from you, on one of my favorite topics!, that i intended to answer within a week and now TWO MONTHS have passed! the amount of times i've gone to reply to it properly and instead *waves hand around* there are constant happenings and situations. 😭 i NEED to get to it because it will make me happy to focus on tbh!

there's a bemusing irony to the fact that i proclaimed i was doing #better in regards to dean and other various sadnesses, and then the moment an entirely different pillar got kicked out from under me, the hurt came rushing back in. i've been playing a bit of a (useless, i know) blame game with myself, like, this is somehow my fault for being overly invested or caring as deeply as i do or relying on art for my escape and joy, but it's difficult because it's the primary thing i have. and dean is the constant, the longest lasting source of comfort of all of them, so at any point when anything else has been painful or confusing, the needle of my heart's compass spins back to him. except i'd intentionally been trying to rely on that less due to the existing wound of it, which means over the past week, there's been this weight of the absence, which lead to that feeling of missing him terribly.

I KNOW how important it is to have your safe, comfort place, and when it gets taken away it can feel crushing and very painful. I think I understand why you're missing Dean. There was a time in my life when I THOUGHT I'd recovered, but then some painful, or confusing/disorienting, or otherwise overwhelming situation hit and I'd start missing him like crazy, because I needed comfort and rest and I tried to reconnect. We need our safe place and our comfort characters when we are in pain, when we are tired, when the world isn't making sense anymore. this is it exactly, and i can't express my gratitude for your kindness and for the sense of understanding you share in this. those safe spaces and comforts and lights through the darkness ARE profoundly valuable and we carry them with us, and it hurts when any of that feels stolen or diminished. it makes you just want the soul of it back.

*hugs you tight* i am so sorry you've been struggling with anxiety and tears (i understand, i have NOT been able to stop crying at the most unexpected moments lately. i wept over my dog this past weekend and she's been gone for years. it's like every ache i have is a raw nerve at the surface. anxiety makes you feel more fragile too). the scalding water omg honey :((( i'm glad you're okay! and i'm happy your comfort character was there for you and helped carry you through it. you deserve to feel safe and held, and that very much exists within the characters we love and the stories we call home and the art/music that resonates within us.

What I want to say, things like this ARE important and your connection to your faves IS important and valuable, it's totally okay to miss them, it's okay to love them and to need them, it's okay to wish they were here right now. thank you very much for this reminder and for understanding this, i really do believe this is true. our faves impact us and are important and loved for a reason. just sending me this helps, truly.

I'm giving you a hug but I'm ALSO encouraging you to imagine that Dean is giving you a hug, because he absolutely would and because he'll always be there for you. 🥺 this message is beautiful and now i'm crying at it, but only for warm reasons! he's always shown up in some way to remind me of this (and still did in a way this morning!), so i KNOW he's right here and remains with me no matter what and that the span of that time and amount of that love is always real and always alive and exists right in my heart, and if it didn't, i wouldn't also experience that pain of missing him along with it. the ache itself is a sign of how strongly that love remains. thank you for the hugs and for listening and for being here for me, and for reminding me he's here at every moment too. you are such a wonder and i love you. 💖💖💖

#ellie ily so so much #also to my beloveds cassie and luth who both chimed in with some reminders he's still here for me ;___; #i'm so lucky to have friends like each of you #snowstormserenade #dean feelings #the consolation of imaginary things #letterbox #things to remember #bubble wrap around my heart

[kageyuji]

shortening his name except he thinks you called him another guy’s name

⤷ oikawa, bokuto, atsumu, suna, mattsun ; [gn!reader]

GENRE/WARNINGS: comfort(?), angst if you squint hard enough, mild swearing

NOTES: i will literally offer my hand in marriage if you reblog. and thank you to @/sugawaaras for giving me the idea for mattsun’s <33

━━ OIKAWA

even though he tried to be confident, in reality, his self confidence sat on a throne built from things he told himself in the mirror and compliments he never believed

so its not a surprise that his first reaction just... isn’t one. he’ll stop and replay it over and over again in his head to make sure he’d heard you correctly

and then his heart breaks — it actually hurts him, makes him feel like he can’t breath, and before he even knows it theres tears in his eyes

of course, he knows you’re never supposed to let the reason you’re crying see you crying

so he attempts to act like he’s more annoyed than that he just had his heart just obliterated

it’s not a secret though. through the pain in his eyes, anyone can see the shattered remnants of what was once his heart

“ru, can you grab my phone for me?” you called to your boyfriend from the couch, remembering that you’d left your phone in the other room.

it was quiet for a moment; not long enough for you to ask if he was okay, but long enough that the silence was odd. you heard heavy footfalls again, then saw oikawa standing just inside the room with a clear look of betrayal on his face.

“what?” you asked him, wondering if he was kidding around. you hadn’t done anything, there was no reason why he’d actually be upset with you.

as he stepped closer to you, you could see the tears whelling up in his eyes, and you were left to wonder what was wrong.

“what’s wrong? tooru, hey, are you ok?” your voice was much softer when you spoke this time. your heart dropped when you saw him step back at your step forward.

“so now you can call me by my name?” you think his voice was meant to be low and hostile, but in his struggle not to cry it came out strangled and cracked.

“what did... do you mean ‘ru?”

“yes! who the hell is that? if you wanted to-“

“no no, babe, your name is tooru. the last syllable of your name is ru. it’s just a shortening of your name, not someone else’s.”

you watched his lips form a smile and he let out something like a laugh, seemingly at his own confusion, and then the tears finally fell.

he’d walked into your arms soon after, with his arms wrapped tightly around you and his face buried in the crook of your neck

“sorry... sorry for not trust- trusting you, i just-” his sentence was cut through with sharp breaths and hiccups, and then finally stopped with your own voice.

“it’s alright, i didn’t mean to scare you. we can cuddle if you want, hm?”

he was already struggling to keep himself from fully breaking down. but when one of your hands came up to pet his hair, a whine left him — you think it was supposed to be an ‘mhm’ to your offer — and his hands gripped tightly at your shirt, his arms around you getting tighter.

━━ BOKUTO

he doesn’t miss a beat, immediately looking up at you to wonder if he’d heard you correctly

it’s just a small spike of anxiety at first, but the more he lets the foreign name resonate with him, the more it makes him worry

he has to build up the courage to ask you who the other guy is, because he can’t do it right away, he’s way too nervous

he looks so sad as well, puppy dog eyes looking at you, seemingly just slightly worried

unbeknownst to you, his heart is pounding in is chest and with each passing second, it runs the risk of shattering

“‘taro!” your voice was a giggle as he left little kisses all over you. they weren’t nearly enough to leave hickeys, just little pecks across your face, your neck, your chest.

as soon as the name left your lips though, he stopped, golden eyes snapping up to look at you with a pain you’d never seen in them before.

you could tell he was definitely upset about something, but you had no idea what it could be. hell, the way he looked at you, it was almost as though you were the reason.

of course, you were unaware that bokuto’s first thoughts went to rintaro, middle blocker from the famed inarizaki. suddenly he was thinking of every time you’d ever spoken about the team, said how many fan girls they had, how many games they’d won.

he wanted to say something. he really wanted to ask what you’d meant. but the words seemed caught in his throat.

it wasn’t long before he couldn’t take it though, and he pushed the words out, despite the alarms going off in his head and his heart immediately jumping to his throat.

“who is ‘taro?” you didnt think you’d ever heard him sound so small. so timid, so close to his voice cracking with the tears he was holding back, so... scared.

“you? who else? i can call you kou if you’d prefer that though. you don’t have to look so upset.”

bokuto smiled then, relaxing the weight on his arms enough so he was on top of you. he supported himself enough not to crush you, but there was nothing more he wanted in the world right now than to be held by you.

━━ ATSUMU

he liked to consider himself a tough guy. he liked to.

but there were times whenever his support fell, leaving his world to crumble in his hands, slipping through his fingers no matter how hard he tried to hold it all together

and when thought he heard a guy’s name that isn’t his own come from you, it felt just like one of those times

he was asking what you’d meant before his mind could even properly register your words

and by that point he didn’t care enough to replay the name in his head, his mind already caught up looking for the things he’d done wrong, the things he hadn’t done.

“oh, ‘umi, if you want to we can go to th-”

“what the hell?”

it surprised you how much venom laced his words, despite the fact that you’d done nothing wrong. the thought that he was being sarcastic or joking with you crossed your mind, but atsumu wasn’t exactly the best actor.

he couldn’t fake the look on his face, couldn’t fake how his heart had seemingly stopped just from the look in his eyes.

“what do you mean?” your voice was soft when you spoke now, no longer so nonchalant.

he lips pressed into a thin line and he set his jaw in frustration. it took him taking a deep breath to finally say, “you called me ‘omi.’ if you like-”

“tsumu.”

“no, i heard you, you called me omi. if- if theres...” he never finished his sentence. there was already a lump in his throat and he knew that if he were to say anything more, he’d cry.

“no, no. i called you umi. like your name just a little bit different.”

his face was drawn in a look on confusion. his eyes studied you, trying to look for any sign of you lying. but he trusted you, of course he trusted you.

he came over to hug you, his arms wrapped tightly around you. you heard him sniff, but you knew he’d deny crying if you asked him.

“i love you,” his voice made him sound so small, it was a level of weak and vulnerable you’d not seen from him.

“i love you too.”

━━ SUNA

the words “stay calm” had never been repeated in his head to himself so much

well, it was more like a string of curse words with “stay calm” thrown in occasionally, but he’d never felt so scared

the look on his face is annoyed at first, but it quickly starts to shift into one with a little more worry

he’s terrified, in all honesty. but he’s already told himself he’s not going to let you see that

“taro, can we stop by a corner store on the way home? i need something.”

your voice had been so calm. so why did it feel like his heart had just been ripped out of his chest?

he knew you hadn’t meant to. but why you’d even slipped and call him by another name in the first place worried him. it took him only a few seconds for his mind to land on bokuto koutarou.

bokuto koutarou, one of the top aces.

“well fuck you too i guess.” his tone may have been confused with one of anger at first, but you could tell that wasnt it. anger is a secondary emotion, you knew in reality he was hurt.

the only problem is, you didn’t know what. from his words you knew it was something you’d done. but there was nothing that came to mind.

“sorry? what did i do?”

suna hesitated for only a second before asking why you’d called him by another name. he took a deep breath immediately after speaking, your silence only breaking his heart more. as though it wasn’t already destroyed.

but your silence was born from shock and confusion, not being caught like suna had assumed.

“taro. like rintarou. like your name. who else would i be talking about?”

“uhm. koutarou? i don’t know, forget about it.” he’d never felt like a bigger jackass before; he never swore at you.

you smiled a little at his words and walked over to hug him. he hummed at that and pressed a small kiss to your temple, then buried his face into the crook of your neck.

“i didn’t mean to-”

“it’s ok, rin.”

━━ MATTSUN

he had to stop for a moment to let it sink in before he could react

after that there were too many emotions rushing through him to do anything for another few moments

in fact, his silence coupled with the distant, betrayed look on his face was somewhat unsettling

it takes him longer than he would like to question you, but it’s because he’s already preparing to collect his shattered heart after one of his worst fears becomes true

“why are you here?” mattsun heard iwaizumi’s voice and he smiled a little to himself, knowing that he must have been talking to you.

he’d been waiting for you all day, it seemed like forever since he’d last seen you. the only thing he wanted right now was to hold you.

“oh, i’m here to see ‘kawa!” you said happily. mattsun could hear the smile in your voice without even seeing you.

you were here for oikawa. of course you were here for starboy oikawa tooru, of course your boyfriend was just a stepping stone.

he was still frozen when you rounded the corner. the look on his face was concerning, you couldn’t remember the last time — if there ever was one — he’d looked absolutely terrified, the last time he looked so hurt.

“mattsun... are you ok?”

he didn’t answer you. it took him a few moments before he could finally speak, and even then his voice was different than it usually was. it was... pained? betrayed? whatever it was, you knew it wasn’t mattsun.

“did you really come here just to see oikawa? what happened to me being your boyfriend?”

it took you a few moments to try and understand what he was talking about. you’d never said that. hell, you always came for mattsun, not once had you ever spared oikawa a thought.

“no, babe. i said ‘kawa’, as in matsukawa.”

he seemed to melt at your words. that expression disappeared from his face, his body untensing. he moved to pull you into his arms, holding you close to himself with a desperation he’d not had before.

him thumb rubbed soothing circles on your back. you could tell he wanted to say something. but then he stopped right before the words left him, instead opting to make a joke to lift the mood.

“good, i was about to kick oikawa’s ass.”

“...we were having a moment.”

#hqradiostation #oikawa x reader #atsumu x reader #suna x reader #mattsun x reader #bokuto x reader #oikawa headcanons #atsumu headcanons #suna headcanons #mattsun headcanons #bokuto headcannons #oikawa x you #oikawa x y/n #atsumu x you #atsumu x y/n #suna x you #suna x y/n #mattsun x you #mattsun x y/n #bokuto x you #bokuto x y/n #oikawa scenarios #atsumu scenarios #suna scenarios #mattsun scenarios #bokuto scenarios #haikyu x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyu headcanons #haikyuu headcanons

[rafescoke]

All I Ask ; Rafe Cameron (Part 2)

masterlist

#Part 2

#Part 1

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Reader finds herself in the arms of her best friend’s brother after finding her boyfriend cheating on her

Warnings: Swearing, cheating, hella angst, JJ being an extreme asshole

A/N: you guys are truly amazing. thank you so much for the countless amount of love & support for my last works, i love you! 

p.s, my request box is always open! go ahead and drop any ideas bae

“Hey,” he said softly. “You’re okay?”

(Y/N) emitted a laugh, her eyes focusing on the road, but her mind was somewhere else. She cleared her throat, “Um, I don’t think so.”

“Want to talk about it?” he said, and she noticed the grogginess behind his voice. She felt bad now, knowing that she had woken him up, but she was desperate for someone.

She couldn’t go to the pogues; her only friends, not when they knew. They knew all along about Kie and JJ but they didn’t try to talk to her. She thought about Pope, how he had looked so nervous around her since a month ago and how she had thought of it as nothing more than anxiety for his new upcoming scholarship application.

(Y/N) groaned, tightening her fingers around the steering wheel. Why had she been so naive? Why couldn’t she realize the signs sooner?

“Are you okay?” Rafe asked, suddenly jolting up from his bed when he realized how quiet she has gotten. Ever since they got close 4 years ago, there was never a long silence between them as (Y/N) always has a random topic to discuss about. He would tell her that he doesn’t care, but he truly likes the new information she’ll give him.

Like how the word ‘who’ is the oldest English word in the world. 

“Like, the owl?” he asked, scrunching his face. (Y/N) rolled her eyes, licking the slowly melting ice cream, and Rafe had a sudden thought of stealing her snack.

“No. God, you’re stupid. It’s who.”

“Yeah, the owl,” he grunted, thinking hard. (Y/N) looked at him with her bored eyes again, and Rafe took a quick glance at the dripping ice cream.

“No, Rafe, that’s woo. I’m talking about who.”

“You should write it.”

Rafe watched as she used her pointer to write the word ‘who’ on the table using her ice cream. Rafe laughed, finally understanding the joke, and he smiled wider when she returned a grin.

“No,” her voice croaked, and she could feel her tears slowly rolling down her red cheeks. God, she felt stupid. Why would she cry over stupid stuff like this? She had told Rafe before that she couldn’t understand why Bella Swan was too sad over Edward’s flight, saying how Bella had Jacob all along to help her get over him. Rafe rolled his eyes at this statement, muttering something along the words of ‘this is a movie’, ‘Edward is hotter’, and ‘Jacob look like that cashier guy at the hardware store’.

But she understood everything clearly now because she too, felt like staying in her room for the rest of her life. 

“What happened? Do you need me to pick you up?” Rafe asked again, finally standing up from his bed and walking towards his bedside table to retrieve his car keys. He rubbed his eyes, still so tired, but he wanted to make sure she was safe.

“It’s alright, Rafe, you don’t have to pick me up, it’s just, um-” she took a deep breath, “Can I come over?”

Rafe stopped in his tracks, not sure if he had heard her right. He waited for a few seconds, “Huh?”

“Can I come over?” (Y/N) bit her lips, making a turn towards the road heading to Figure 8 from the Cut. The road was deserted, and she looked at the dashboard to check on the time.

2.43 a.m.

“Yeah, sure, um, when are you coming? I just have to wait for you, so you know the new passcode of the backdoor.”

“You guys changed it already?” she asked, and she was surprised to find a smile creeping onto her face. “When was the last time I came over? 2 months ago?”

“9,” Rafe muttered, “But it’s okay. I’ll wait for you, okay?”

“Okay,” she released a breath, “Thank you, Rafe.”

“Yeah,” was all he said before ending the line.

Maybe she did missed him. 

When she arrived before the white building of the Camerons’ household, she could see a figure sitting on the front porch, bending over something that (Y/N) assumed to be a phone.

Rafe was mindlessly playing Candy Crush, just starting on his third level when he heard a car door being shut. He jumped to his feet, ready to greet the girl, but stopped in his tracks when he saw the state of her.

She was still in her party clothes, her (H/C) hair in a messy ponytail and her makeup all smudged. He tried to think of a joke, wanting to lighten up the mood, but his deed was interrupted when she finally had him in a tight hug.

“Whoa,” Rafe exclaimed, putting his arms around her waist. He let her stayed in that position for a few more seconds, liking the warmth, and finally parted after he cleared his throat.

“What’s wrong?”

“I, um-” she sighed, not looking into his eyes. “I got cheated on.”

Rafe was glued to his spot as he watched her wiped her tears with her sleeve, looking down to her glittery blue slippers. He couldn’t remember the amount of times he had prayed for his (Y/N) and JJ to call it off, but he didn’t hope for any kind of cheating to occur.

“I’m so sorry,” Rafe said, pulling her into a hug again. He rested his chin against the top of her head, letting the scent of strawberry wafted into his nostrils. (Y/N) cried against his chest, her face all scrunched up, and when she pulled away for the second time, she noticed the tear stains on his shirt.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” she rushed, trying to remove the stain using her fingers even though she knew it was impossible. She was too tired to think logically; she felt like laying in bed and watching Love Island until the day she dies.

“You’re still stupid, even when you’re all fucked up,” Rafe sighed, but he watched her from the corners of his eyes in case his words had struck her, but she looked like she understood the joke. She smiled weakly, pulling on the hem of her dress that had rode up down.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” he said, pulling her by her wrist as he guided her through the backdoor to his room. He showed her the new passcode proudly, mouthing how it was his birthday date this time, and (Y/N) had emitted a small laugh.

Screw maybe, she did missed him.

“And still a mess,” she sighed, plopping onto Rafe’s blue bedsheet as she took a look around the room. The painting of a random boat in the middle of an ocean was still askewed, and his trash can were piling up. She made a face, pointing at the cause of disturbance.

“You have to clean that.”

“Sorry I couldn’t let you stay in our five stars suite, ma’am,” he said, finding an old t-shirt in his cupboard. “You know, since you barged in this hotel at this time, all there’s left is the 3 stars suite.”

“You’re calling this a 3 stars suite?” she laughed, tilting her head to one side. “Rafe, this room can’t even be rated.”

“Whatever,” he pulled out a yellow t-shirt, putting it aside before looking for a new pair of boxers. “Is your room still pink with that weird strawberry pound cake smell?”

“Yeah,” she laughed, crossing her legs. She was glad there were no crumbs on the bed, or else she would rather sleep in her car. “And that smell’s great. My sensory organs are blocked by all the dust you’re collecting in here.”

Rafe grinned, liking how she was back to her old self, and handed her the pair of boxers and the yellow t-shirt. (Y/N) muttered a quick thanks, her feet lightly padding against the carpeted floor towards his bathroom. She closed the door, leaning against the sink, watching her reflection in the mirror.

She did look miserable, and her eyes were all red and puffy. She always hate how puffy her eyes would get after a nice session of crying, having to endure the pain of soothing it down again. 

She shook her head, not wanting to spend anymore time thinking about JJ or Kie or the pogues who had betrayed her, and tried to reach for the zip of her dress. After a few good tries she sighed, relaxing her cramped arms. The familiar yet uneasy pain coursed through her veins, and without wanting to abuse herself anymore, she turned the doorknob.

“Rafe? Can you help me?”

“Huh? Yeah,” he came to the door, closing his eyes before he halted right in front of the object. “Are you naked?”

“No, can’t seem to be, too. Can you help me unzip?”

Rafe opened his eyes, feeling his heartbeat quickening, and with trembling hands, slowly unzipped her dress and stopping directly at the curve of her bottoms, silently admiring the view. 

He cleared his throat, shaking his head at the childish behaviour he just found himself in. “Yeah, done.”

“Thanks, Rafe,” she smiled, and turned to close the door again. Rafe listened to her breathing in the bathroom for a few more seconds, knowing how hard she was trying to ignore the aching feeling eating off of her. He wished he could take her pain away an make it his, knowing that at least he’ll have an excuse to snort more coke to ‘forget the pain’. 

When she got out of the bathroom, Rafe had to stop himself from drooling over her in his shirt and boxers. She always look good, but she had never looked better in nothing but his yellow shirt and his boxers. 

Rafe closed the light, remembering how she hates sleeping with any form of light either it’s tiny or big, and settled himself on the sofa. He wanted to give her space, not wanting to rush anything, knowing how tired she must felt from all the things she had to endure today.

“Rafe, we’re not 10. You can sleep on the same bed as I am,” she sighed, turning to face the other side. Rafe stood up, thanking the gods above, and settled for his new room.

“We never sleep in the same bed before,” he said, pulling the covers to shield himself from the cold. (Y/N) snorted at this statement, still not looking at him or even turning to face him.

The closest thing they have done to sleep right next to each other was in the car during a road trip, and when they woke up, they were both throwing disgusted faces and pretending to vomit.

“Stop it, you guys look stupid,” Sarah groaned, giving them a quick look over her shoulder. Rafe pulled his middle finger from under the blanket he was sharing with (Y/N), causing her to snort and struggling to hide her laugh.

. . .

“So yeah, that’s how you hit it.”

“You’re bluffing,” (Y/N) rolled her eyes, taking over the club and watching the small hole in the distance, squinting her eyes. She took a step back, licked her teeth, and gave Topper the club back.

“See? I told you I’m right!” he exclaimed happily, clasping his hands together. He returned to the game, focusing on his goal, and hit the golf ball.

“That’s fine, I guess,” (Y/N) announced when he came back to the resting area, “For beginners.”

Rafe snorted, downing his mineral water before handing Topper the same bottle. Topper grunted at him, muttering how it’s unhygienic, but he took a full swing of it anyways, being so thirsty after sitting under the sun for hours long.

“We’re glad you’re back with us, (Y/N),” Topper smiled, removing his cap and fanning himself with the clothing. He opened his mouth to say something, but when he looked at Rafe’s expression, he quickly shut his mouth.

He wanted to ask her if she ever missed their old clique when she was with the pogues, but Rafe knew better. It had been 3 weeks since the incidence, and she had been doing so well in coping with the situation. They had been inseparable ever since, always attached to the hips everywhere they go; he couldn’t let one tiny mistake slip that can cause her another breakdown.

“Hey,” Kelce jogged to them, smiling apologetically at Rafe and Topper before placing a quick kiss on (Y/N) ‘s cheeks. (Y/N) smiled, knowing how sweet and gentle Kelce is, almost glad he still does the same thing to her even after they had not been hanging out for a year.

“You’re not dressed for the occasion,” Topper rolled his eyes, “And late. We’re already packing up, man.”

“I know, but I’m wondering if you guys would like to listen to Cage The Elephant this evening by the beach,” he explained, still heaving from his previous activity. He had drove straight from his home to the country club after getting 4 tickets to the show, excited to show his friends what he had gotten for her.

(Y/N) snorted, throwing her arms into the air. “Fuck off, Kelce. There’s no way they’re coming down to Obx.”

Kelce sighed, taking out his phone before showing her the proof in his photos. (Y/N) grinned, trying to contain herself, and looked at Rafe who seemed to be smiling as well.

“Thanks, Kelce,” she laughed, pulling him into a hug. They made her happy, and all the negative thoughts she had about them during her brief friendship with the pogues suddenly evaporating into the air. She squealed, jumping wildly, and she swore she has never felt this happy before.

Just them four. Like the old times.

Four hours later, (Y/N) took a step back when they arrived at the beach, the memory of what happened three weeks ago suddenly rewinding in her head. Rafe noticed how quiet she had been, and pulled her aside while Topper and Kelce went to check on the stage.

“Are you okay?”

(Y/N) bit her lips, nodding. She ran her fingers over the penguin charm Rafe had gotten her a week prior, saying how it resembles him when he sees her. (Y/N) rolled her eyes at him during that surprising moment, touched yet confused at the story behind the penguin charm.

“Okay. Do you need a drink?” he asked again, staring into her eyes. She shook her head, wetting her lips and putting on her usual smile. Rafe grinned at her, muttering how she’s doing so good, all while guiding her towards their two other friends.

“(Y/N)?”

(Y/N) turned to look at the source, not thinking much. She almost fell to the ground when she saw the person responsible, but Rafe still had his arms around her. He turned to check on her again, but followed her gaze when he noticed she was staring at the opposite direction.

“What the fuck?” Rafe yelled, pushing JJ’s chest with so much anger that he toppled over to John B. Sarah yelped, pulling Kie to her side, watching as her brother walked towards them furiously. 

“Chill, man, I just want to talk to her,” he said, taking a deep breath. He noticed the crowd starting to notice them, and his eyes landed on a certain girl who was held up by Topper and Kelce, both asking if she was okay.

“Fuck off, pogue,” Rafe said, his eyes stern as he stared over JJ and his group of friends. “You have nothing to say to her.”

As he turned to return to his friends, his chest heaving from the near-fight he almost encounter with JJ, he bended to (Y/N)’s height to check on her state. Her eyes were glassy, her face red.

“So you’re fucking them all now like a whore?” JJ shouted, loud enough for everyone else around them to gasp, and some already had their phones out. (Y/N) was shocked at this statement, frozen on her feet, not knowing what on earth would make JJ say that to her.

He was never mean to her, even when they had a fight. He yelled at her sometimes, sure, but she had been the one yelling first. He never called her anything of that sort, not even during sex, where she had given him her full consent.

“You’re crazy,” she muttered, her lips trembling. “Go to hell.”

“No, no, because it has always been easy for you, right? You broke up with me, got on with Rafe, leave your own friends and come back to the country clubs?” he laughed, and she flinched at his words. If JJ had meant the pogues as her friends, then he was totally wrong.

“Fuck off, pogue,” Topper stepped out, and before he could finish his sentence, JJ landed a full punch on his face, causing him to fall onto the ground with a thud.

(Y/N) screamed, getting to his side as Rafe returned JJ’s gesture. Topper laid on the ground with his nose starting to bleed, causing (Y/N) to panic while she rummaged through Rafe’s backpack he had left on the ground for clean tissues.

Topper groaned, keep wanting to get up, but (Y/N) held him in place, not letting her friend go and hurt himself more just for her. She cried while she tried to wipe the blood, hearing the fight behind her.

“Fuck you! You stupid pogue! You should be in jail like your dad!”

Something cracked in JJ as he yelled something back in pure anger. He punched, kicked, slapped and hit Rafe who was already on the ground, spitting blood.

“JJ! That’s enough,” Pope pulled him back, trying to contain the wild animal as he thrashed to escape. He yelled more curses at Rafe while Pope tried his best to pull him away, obviously not done with hitting the boy laying on the ground.

(Y/N) cried, running towards Rafe’s side, cupping his face and looking into his swollen eyes. She groaned when Rafe’s laugh filled the air, not believing how he was still joking in a state like this.

“I’m okay,” he said, his breath ragged. “Don’t cry. I’m okay.”

Rafe stood up slowly and looked at the direction of the still thrasing JJ, hearing his muffled shouts with his arms around (Y/N) ‘s waist. He held her close as she sobbed into his shoulder, still trembling.

“Let’s go home?” he asked, and (Y/N) didn’t need to be told twice to follow him into his car. As disappointed as she was that she didn’t get the chance to see her favourite band, she wanted to take care of Rafe, who had been there since the day she found out about Kie and JJ.

The clock struck 12 in the morning and the grandfather clock in the living room chimed as Rafe groaned, feeling a certain girl with trembling hands and tired eyes gently wiping a cotton pad across his cut. 

“Fuck! I said slowly,” he grunted, closing his eyes to decrease the pain. (Y/N) bit her lips, trying to concentrate all the while trying to contain her laugh. He hissed again when she dabbed on his cut, this time with his fingers gripping tightly around her wrist.

“I said slowly.”

“I’m doing it slow, asshole,” she smiled, and felt him softened when she finally threw the last cotton pad. She pulled the covers to his chin, fixing the front part of hair before going to the bathroom to wash her hands. When she came back, she found him still awake with his eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling.

“I really need you to sleep,” she sighed, “To heal your pretty face.”

Rafe grinned and though (Y/N) tried her hardest not to smile back, she couldn’t deny the warm feeling settling in the pits of her stomach. 

“You think I’m pretty?”

There was no use denying it anymore.

“Yeah,” she shrugged, getting into the space beside him. “Even when you are all fucked up.”

(Y/N) could sense his smile even when she didn’t look at him, knowing how soft he usually end up being when she compliments him. She turned to look at him.

“Are you serious about not wanting a girlfriend?”

Rafe turned to look at her, his eyebrows raised. His insides exclaimed happily, liking the way his words had struck her. He meant what he said, but that statement didn’t apply to (Y/N). 

“Why?”

“Just asking,” she shrugged, and made a move to touch his cut. He hissed, feeling a sharp pain soaring in him, but she looked so peaceful trying to figure out his wound.

“You can kiss them to make them feel better,” he grinned, and watched as she groaned, trying to hide her face against the pillow. Rafe laughed, and turned the lamp beside him off, knowing that he shouldn’t push it and leave her be.

Just as he was about to drift into a peaceful sleep, he felt her soft lips against his, to which it was quick and gentle before she pulled away, giggling.

“4 years.”

“Huh?” (Y/N) questioned, still smiling from the kiss she just initiated a few seconds ago. She couldn’t contain herself; he looked so peaceful, so sweet, and so handsome. She didn’t know why she hadn’t kissed him sooner.

“I waited for that since 4 years ago.”

“Now you’re just pushing it, Rafe.”

Rafe grinned against the darkness, and felt his heart soaring. “Can we kiss again?”

“Tomorrow,” she stated, and Rafe laughed.

Tomorrrow. The next day. Next week. 

He didn’t care - as long as he will finally have her by his side. 

-

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[nameless-ken]

Henry Cavill Series - Part One

Summary: You never imagined falling in love would be the scariest but easiest thing for you to do. Especially when it came to him.

Warnings: angst as usual, mentions of depression & anxiety and parental death

Words: 3.1K

Request open

Masterlist

He left like you were never a reason to stay.

"Hey, just take deep breaths. You'll be fine." You encourage your brother as you help fix his tie for him.

"I'm getting married, Y/N. It's kind of hard not to be nervous right now." He runs his shaking hand through his hair.

"Listen Sawyer, Alice loves you and you love her. You two are going to spend the rest of your lives together and be happy with each other. All you need to think about today is the wonderful future you’re going to have together."

"I'll still be there for you. Whenever you need me. I wish mom and dad were here with us today." He pulls you into a tight hug.

"They would be thrilled about you marrying Alice. She is literally you but a female." His chest rumbles underneath your head.

"Mom and dad would be proud of you too. The places you are going with your career. I'm proud of you." Sawyer kisses the top of your head.

"Now you just need to find your special person and get married." He pulls away and looks down at you, laughing. You shake your head and roll your eyes.

"Hey," He tilts your chin up. "I'm just tired of seeing you alone."

"Sawyer, there's a difference between being alone and being lonely. I've chosen to be alone, not lonely."

"Just promise me that you will stop shutting people out and go out into the world and meet someone who loves you unconditionally."

"I'll see what I can do. Now, let's go and get you hitched." You both laugh and walk out of the room.

As you're standing in line with the rest of the bridesmaids you start to think about love. Your mom and dad were so in love with each other and you know they still are in another life. Your brother looks so happy with his new bride-to-be. All the friends you know have had multiple relationships, some already married with kids. It seems like everyone is finding love, except for you.

There is a reason why you stopped searching and his name is Henry Cavill.

He was a friend of you brothers. Just a couple years older than yourself. The three of you would always hang out together as kids. Mostly the two of them picking on you and you running away crying until Henry would come find you later and apologize for the both of them. Over the years, Henry became more attractive but not just to you but other girls as well. But you never saw him with a girl under his arm. He was never the one to show off to people. Even though he was the most popular and good looking guy in school, he was kind to everyone. There wasn't one person who met him that wasn't affected in some way. He completely changed your life.

You remember vividly when he and your brother were seniors and about to graduate. You were a sophomore and going through an awkward stage in life where you were trying to figure out who you wanted to be while everyone else seemed like they already knew. Your brother was in the shower while Henry and you were relaxing in the living room. Don't get it wrong, you definitely had a crush on him. Pretty much everyone did, but you knew he would never feel the same way. You asked him what he planned to do after graduating and he told you he wanted to go back and visit England. He was born there, and his family lived there until he was about five before his dad got a promotion in Seattle. He always talked about moving back to England, but you never thought he would actually do it.

The day of Sawyer and Henry's graduation was one of the worst but best days of you life. After the ceremony, you all were taking pictures, you glanced at Henry and were overcome with something you couldn't explain back then but you know now that it was love. Every time he would smile and his eyes would crinkle and his dimples would pop out, you got tingles all over your body. When he hugged you goodbye, you got shivers and blinked away tears. You were scared because you'd never felt this way about someone before. You didn't know what that feeling was. You were confused but you knew everything was okay as long as you had Henry in your life.

After the graduation dinner, everyone rode along to take Henry to the airport. You sat in the back between your brother and Henry.  You just wanted to be close to Henry without it being obvious. There were a few times where you would stare for too long at him because he is the most beautiful human being in the world. He would look at you with the brightest smile. You would die every time. Everyone said their goodbyes to Henry. You being the last one. You always thought Henry saw you as his little sister because he was best friends with your brother, that's why you decided to keep the way you felt about him locked away. You remember the last words he said to you before he left. 

"I'll see you soon Y/N. Don't forget me." You smiled at him through the tears.

You've never forgotten about him.

He is the reason why you've never been able to find someone because you've been in love with him this whole time. You've regretted not telling him the way you’ve felt for years now. Looking at your brother with the love of his life makes you realize how much you miss Henry. It's been five years since he left. You don't even know if he and your brother have kept contact with each other. Your brother never knew about your crush on Henry and you've never asked him if he knew anything about him now because you didn't want to seem curious. You just wish you knew what his life is like now.

You’re snapped back into reality once everyone starts cheering and clapping as your brother and his wife walk down the aisle and out the door. You make your way down the aisle with the rest of the bridal party smiling. When you’re almost out the door you look toward the back row and see the one man who has had your heart without even knowing it, except he has his arm wrapped around another girl. Your eyes meet his and you feel your whole world stop turning.

"What are you thinking about?" You look up from the glass of champagne to find Sawyer standing next to you.

"Oh nothing. Just how happy I am for you." You insist, taking the last sip

"You sure? I figured it was because of Henry." He mentions and you almost choke on your drink.

"Why would that be a problem?" You turn to face him.

"Oh, come on Y/N. Don't think I couldn't tell that you liked him in high school." You close your eyes and feel your cheeks flush with embarrassment.

"Why didn't you ever say anything?" 

"Honestly, I was waiting for him to say something to me or you, but it never happened." 

"Well, he obviously didn't feel the same way since he left five years ago and never came back."

"Maybe he didn't want to get attached to you because he was leaving. Maybe it just wasn't the right time but maybe now it is." Sawyer suggests.

"No, it's definitely the wrong time because he came here with someone else." 

"How about you just go talk to him. Catch up for a bit. You know you've missed him and I'm sure he feels the same." Sawyer pulls you into another hug.

"Now, go and have fun. This is my wedding!" He laughs and kisses the top of your head. You roll your eyes, giggling and turn back to the bar to order another drink.

It's been about an hour of you sitting alone at the bar. Watching everyone dancing and your brother and his wife looking so in love. You can't help but be jealous but so happy for them at the same time. You've always wanted someone to be by your side through everything. To make you happy when you’re sad and love you for who all that you are. You’re still pretty young, but you feel as if you've already missed out on a lot. Most people your age are either married and have kids or are in a relationship. You've never had a boyfriend and you know it's partially your own doing because you closed people off and never put yourself out there. When your parents died, it got worse. The only person you talked to was Sawyer. You didn't have friends at college. You mostly stayed in your dorm and never went out because you were depressed, and your anxiety worsened from shutting yourself out from the world. You were sure guys thought you were weird and awkward. The only time you would talk was if you were called on in class or you had to do group projects. You hate yourself for closing yourself off because you know you missed out on so much, but you can't take any of that back.

You finish what you think is the third glass of champagne and stand up. You look up and instantly are met with Henry's gorgeous eyes. Oh god. Shivers run through your body and your chest starts to tighten, almost like you want to cry. You've missed him so much and he looks so beautiful. He whispers something into the girl's ear he is sitting next to and gets up. He walks toward you, and you stop breathing. He stops a few feet in front of you.

"Hi Y/N." His voice is even heavier.

"Hi Henry." Your voice cracks as you clear your throat.

You both stand there staring at each other before he gets closer and wraps his arms around you. You instantly react and wrap yours around him. Oh, how you've missed this.

"God, I've missed you Y/N." He whispers. You feel the tears swell up in your eyes and you try to keep them in, but it's too late. They start falling and Henry wraps his arms tighter around you.

"I'm sorry." You choke on your words.

"No, there is absolutely nothing for you to be sorry about." He strokes the back of your head and kisses your forehead. You move away to look up at him.

"Why didn't you ever come back?" You wipe the tears from your face.

"A lot has happened, and it got harder to leave. I wanted to come back so bad, but I just couldn't." 

"You couldn't even call?" 

"I did. I called your brother all the time. I asked about you and how you were especially after your parents." He whispers. You take a deep breath and close your eyes to stop the fresh tears wanting to escape.

"He never told me that." You turn your head and look for Sawyer, spotting him dancing with his wife.

"I told him not to." Henry admits.

"Why?"

"I don't know, I guess I thought you wouldn't care to talk to me."

"Henry, seeing you leave was one of the hardest things for me."

"I didn't know that. I'm sorry." He steps back slightly and puts his hands in his pockets.

Your eyes glance over his face, studying him like you don’t recognize the man in front of you anymore. His hair is shorter than he had it in high school. He is taller and way more buff. He’s still the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen. Henry takes a breath and is about to say something when he gets interrupted by his plus one..

"Henry, I think it's dying down, maybe we should head back to the hotel?" His head snaps toward her and she grabs his arm. Your eyes immediately focus on where she is touching him, feeling a crack in your heart.

"Yeah, let me just say bye to Sawyer." He tells her as she turns to look at you.

"Hi, I'm Emilee." She introduces with a smile.

"Y/N." You force a smile in return.

"How do you two know each other?"

"Sawyer is my brother."

"Oh, how nice! This was a beautiful wedding."

"It was nice meeting you Emilee." You can’t stand talking to her anymore. "Nice seeing you Henry." You smile and he leans in to give you a hug.

"Don't leave yet." He whispers. You look at him and he smiles softly. You walk away and over to your brother and Alice sitting at a table.

"Hey sis." Sawyer says. You sit down next to him and sigh.

"How did it go?" He questions you.

"Why didn't you ever tell that he asked about me?" You scold him.

"He told me not to." Sawyer defends.

"Well, if you knew that I liked him don't you think I would have liked to know he was actually asking about me?" You argue.

"Y/N, I'm sorry. I thought I was protecting you."

"No, it actually hurt me even more." You end the argument before getting up and walking out of the building. 

You sit on a bench that is right outside the building and close your eyes, taking deep breaths. You can feel the anxiety rising and you hate this feeling. You sit there for a few minutes focusing on your breathing when you hear someone’s footsteps before they sit down beside you. You open your eyes to find a pair of familiar blue ones.

"Where's Emilee?"

"She went back to the hotel."

"Shouldn't you be with her?"

"I wanted to stay longer."

"Sawyer told me about the job you got. I'm really happy for you. You finally figured out what you wanted to do with your life." He teases and you can't help but smile.

"Yeah, I was honestly surprised when they asked me. It's my dream to work for a magazine" 

"I can't wait to see your photos all over the world." He leans back against the bench, slinging his arm behind you. 

"What about you? What did you end up choosing?" You ask him, leaning yourself against the bench too.

"I actually work as a personal trainer."

"Wow, that’s cool but what happened with the whole acting thing?”  

"Acting is still a passion of mine but nothing has happened yet. I met a good friend of mine in college and he introduced me to the owner of a local gym out in London. He needed extra hands, so he gave me a job and now I kind of co-run the business with him.” 

“I’m happy for you, Henry.” He looks over at you and smiles. 

"What about you? What are your friends like?"

"I don't really have any." You can feel his gaze on you but avoid eye contact and stare down at your lap.

"What do you mean you don't have any friends?"

"It's just me. Well, Sawyer and Alice now." You explain to him.

His eyebrows furry and he takes his bottom lip between his fingers.

"But why?" Henry pushes.

"Well after you left, I got sad and slowly all my friends in high school just didn't want to be around me anymore because I was a downer all the time. I never wanted to go out anymore. I just wanted to be home. Once I got to college, all I did was go to class and then go to my dorm. People tried to be my friend, but I would eventually push them away or they just got tired of trying. It got worse once my parents died. I was a sophomore in college and I got really depressed. I had to move back home and live with Sawyer and Alice because I just couldn't function. My life was a mess. Still is a mess. I'm not depressed anymore, but my anxiety is still here. I've been alone for so long that it just doesn't bother me anymore. I've grown to love having my time, but it does get lonely. I wish I had a friend other than my brother to talk to. Even though I don't have much to say because my life is so boring. I've been through a lot in the past five years and I just wish you were there." You mumble the last part before looking up. Your eyes connect and he moves closer wrapping you tightly in his arms.

"I hate myself for leaving you alone. When Sawyer called me and told me about you parents I instantly thought of you. How bad I wish I was there to comfort you. I'm so sorry for never contacting you, It's just, Sawyer told me that you were barely even speaking to him." You wrap your arms around his torso and rest your head on his shoulder.

"Don't hate yourself. I could have contacted you if I wanted to, but I thought you wouldn't want to talk to me. You had a new life in London and I didn't want to disturb you."

"You would never disturb me. If I'm being honest, I would stare at my phone some night hoping you could call." 

"When are you going back?" You ask, moving away slightly as your arms fall from him, but he keeps his around you.

"Not sure. I'm going to see my mom and dad for a bit.”

"That's good."

"When do you move to New York?" Henry questions you. 

"Two months."

"Are you nervous?"

"I'm excited but my anxiety makes me nervous. But I know I'll be okay."

His phone starts to ring and he grabs it from his pocket, sighing before answering it.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll be there in a few. Ok. Yeah, Bye." He ends the call and stuffs it back into his pocket. He runs his hands through his hair.

"Girlfriend problems?" You ask, teasingly.

"She isn't my girlfriend." He sternly answered.

"Oh, I thought since-"

"She's just a friend. She wants more but I don't."

"How come?"

"I'm waiting for the right one." Henry glances at you before looking away. "Do you have a boyfriend?"

"No. I've never had one. I'm too broken and nobody wants to fix me." 

"The right one will come along and heal all your wounds with their love and I hope that you will let him because you deserve everything good in this world and more."

- -

comment to be added to the taglist! Thanks for reading <3

#henry cavill imagines #henry cavill #henry cavill x you #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill angst #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill smut

[storiesforallfandoms]

small world ~ corpse husband

word count: 2053

request?: yes!

“Can I get a Corpse x fem reader where reader an corpse are both streamers and they meet each other for the first time and realize they used to know each other as kids? I know Corpse has said that he didn’t have many friends when he was younger so maybe have it where reader was someone that was really nice to him? Sorry for the long request and thank you if you do it! 😊🖤”

description: he never would’ve thought that the new addition to their friend group would be someone from his past

pairing: corpse husband x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

“Hey Corpse,” Karl said. Corpse hummed in response, focused on the drawing he was doing for their Jackbox game. “(Y/N) is also from San Diego. Do you know her?”

(Y/N) chuckled. “Karl, San Diego is pretty big. We’re not bound to know one another. Besides, just because he lives here doesn’t mean he grew up here.”

“I did grow up in San Diego actually,” Corpse said. “I don’t think we would’ve known each other though. Even if we happened to be in the same area, I didn’t talk to many people and I dropped out in the seventh grade.”

“I was, regrettably, popular in school,” (Y/N) added.

“Regrettably?” Karl asked.

“Yeah. Looking back, I hated being popular. I hated it when I was popular even. My friends were mega jerks and made fun of everyone, even me sometimes. I would try and make them be nice but they just let the popularity go to their heads. I haven’t spoken to any of them since we graduated. There was this sort of outcast in middle school I used to have a crush on. I tried to be friends with him, but he preferred to keep to himself. I always wished I had been friends with him because I feel like I would’ve been so much happier. I never saw him again either. I wonder whatever happened to him.”

Something about her story triggered a memory in Corpse. The year before he dropped out, there was a girl in is class who was always nice to him and tried to talk to him. He brushed it off as another way he was being made fun of. When it kept up, though, he realized she was likely being genuine. He still kept his distance, but he found himself gaining some feelings for her as well. When he dropped out, he never heard from her again.

I wonder where she is now, Corpse thought to himself. Man, what was her name?

Corpse accidentally gasped, drawing the attention of everyone in the Discord call.

“You good Corpse?” George asked.

“Y-Yeah,” Corpse responded. “Just uh...just realized I fucked up my idea a bit. No big deal, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

The game started prompting for everyone to show what they had created. Taking the opportunity of not having to speak, Corpse went to Google (Y/N)’s YouTube channel. She had come into the game as a friend of Karl’s and Corpse hadn’t heard of her channel, but now somethings were starting to click together.

The first thing that popped up with the top Google Image for (Y/N)’s channel name. It was a beautiful girl laying in a garden of flowers with a wide smile on her face. Corpse sucked in a breath as he realized that the girl in the picture looked familiar.

“Corpse,” came Karl’s voice, snapping Corpse out of his trance. “It’s your turn.”

“Sorry,” Corpse said. “I was distracted.”

The rest of the stream Corpse felt like he was in a daze. He continued to play the games and forced out laughs when he realized someone was making a joke. Every time (Y/N) spoke, he felt his heart flutter with excitement. He couldn’t believe that after all these years he had finally been reunited with her. And what was better was that she had actually admitted to having feelings for him too!

Don’t get too excited, he thought to himself. She said she used to have a crush on you. That was a very long time ago.

He tried not to seem too eager when the stream finally ended. He waited for someone else to leave the call first before he exited out of it himself. He waited another few minutes before messaging (Y/N) directly on Discord.

hey. it was fun playing with you tonight. weird request, but can we voice call maybe? just the two of us?

Corpse didn’t expect her to respond any time soon. It was late in San Diego, like nearly 3am late. Most people were going to bed by now. She had mentioned once during the stream that she was starting to get sleepy. He figured she’d see it in the morning and either call, or just ignore the message.

To his surprise, near seconds later, she was calling him.

“Hey stranger,” she said when he answered. “Long time, no speak. You must’ve missed my voice a lot, huh?”

Corpse chuckled. “Exactly, I really did.”

“Makes sense. I do have the best voice on the internet.” She laughed this time. It sounded like such a perfect sound. “For real though, is everything alright? Why did you want to call?”

How did he even tell her? Hey, so you know that outcast you liked? It was me! Surprise!

No, he couldn’t say that. Maybe she wouldn’t even remember, or maybe she wouldn’t believe him. He had to figure out some way to bring it up.

“I kind of wanted to talk more about your popular school days,” he said, trying to keep his voice light and teasing. “It’s not every day I meet a streamer who’s in my own area code. It would be nice to get to know someone who isn’t like a five hour drive away.”

“Oh!” She seemed excited by this response. Her excitement was almost contagious. “Okay, where should I start? The shitty friends or the shallow popularity?”

Corpse chuckled. “You pick.”

She talked for nearly an hour about her high school experiences with her popular friend group. Despite how much she despised being popular, (Y/N) still spoke with a light tone in her voice. She tried to bypass a lot of the more negative details and speak only of the good experiences she went though, which was nice to hear.

Corpse nearly jumped with excitement when she began to talk about middle school unprompted.

“It really was the last good years I had in school,” she admitted. “All my friends, the ones who went on to be super popular with me, they were nice then. Annoying, but all middle schoolers are. We didn’t care about popularity or social rankings. We were just...we were just kids. We didn’t even really know the difference between ‘losers’ and ‘popular’, which was why it was so easy for me to talk to that guy that I liked at the time. My friends weren’t mocking me for having feelings for an outcast.”

“You said you never saw that guy again,” Corpse said. “Do you know what happened to him?”

She sighed heavily. “No, I don’t. He just stopped showing up before we hit high school. I thought he moved, but I knew his mom and I saw her around everywhere. I don’t even remember his name anymore to look him up. Wherever he is, though, I hope he’s doing better. Even if they weren’t sucked completely into their popularity at the time, my friends and the other kids were still awful to him.”

“I feel that,” he said. “I wasn’t exactly the most liked kid in school. Before I dropped out I didn’t even have any friends.”

“That’s awful.”

“It wasn’t too bad. I’m not really a friendly person I don’t think. I’ve worked on it since that time, but the thought of trying to maintain a social relationship still gives me anxiety from time to time. There was one girl who tried to be friends with me the year before I dropped out though. She was nice.”

“What happened to her?”

Corpse smiled to himself. She would figure it out soon, he knew she would.

“I just didn’t hear from her after I dropped out,” he responded. “I guess that’s mainly my fault. I never reached out to her or anything, but I barley knew her name. Just her first time, and she never gave me a number or anything. I couldn’t look her up online. Maybe we just weren’t destined to be together.”

“I don’t know about that. Maybe you two were just right people, wrong time. Maybe you’ll cross paths again and finally have that opportunity to be friends with her again.”

“Maybe you’ll cross paths with that guy from your middle school, too.”

There was a prolonged silence. Corpse wondered if (Y/N) was starting to put the pieces together. He could barley even hear her breathe. The longer she went, the more worried he was becoming. He was about to say something when she finally spoke again.

“I made him a Valentine,” she said, her voice soft. “Special handmade one. He was the only one I gave it to. It had some really badly written, sappy poem in it. I watched him open it and...I really think he got emotional while reading it. Of course, he’d never tell anyone that.”

Corpse had gotten emotional over the Valentine (Y/N) had given him. It was the first real Valentine he had ever gotten. It wasn’t one of the generic ones that everyone gave out to every classmate so no one felt excluded. It was made from the heart, and that fact alone touched his. Like (Y/N) said, though, he didn’t let anyone know how emotional he had gotten. It would’ve just been more mental ammo for them to use to bully him.

He quickly got up from his chair, racing to his room where he had his box of memories shoved in his closet. It was little things from throughout his life that he kept in a shoebox. Whenever he felt particularly down or depressed, he would open the shoebox and look at all the things that made him smile.

At the very top of the box was (Y/N)’s Valentine.

He went back to his computer and took a picture of the Valentine using his phone.

“That sounds really nice,” he said as he went into the Discord app on his voice. “It must’ve meant a lot to him that you put so much time and effort into a handmade gift.”

“I don’t know if it did. I never got to ask him what his reaction was.”

“Oh, I’d bet anything he was happy.”

He sent the picture through Discord and waited for (Y/N) to open it. The silence between them felt deafening. The seconds felt like they had slowed to hours. He wondered what (Y/N)’s reaction would be. Maybe she’d be weirded out by the fact that Corpse kept the Valentine, or by the fact that Corpse was the middle school crush in general.

What if she’s upset that this is who I am now? he asked himself. What if her crush was just a middle school thing, and the moment you dropped out she moved on?

“I knew it.”

Corpse couldn’t help the smile on his face when he heard the slight excitement in (Y/N)’s voice.

“I knew it was you!” she continued. “Well, I didn’t know know, but when you asked me to call you I had a bit of a suspicion. I can’t believe it...it’s actually you!”

“It is me,” he confirmed. “And it’s you.”

“Small world we live in, huh?”

“Yeah, small world.” Do you still like me? Did you ever stop? Do you know that your kindness stuck with me for so long?

The silence returned. Corpse was starting to get sick of it, but he didn’t know how to fill the void between them. When he heard her yawn, he realized how late it had gotten. “I’ll let you go, you sound tired.”

“We just had this breakthrough and you’re asking me to sleep?!”

Corpse chuckled. “You have to sleep eventually, (Y/N). It’s like 3:30am, normal people sleep at this hour.”

“I am offended you would think I’m anywhere near normal.” She yawned again, cutting off her short lived rant. “But you’re right, I am tired. Listen...promise me you’ll answer when I call tomorrow. I...I’d really like to catch up. Maybe...to pick up where we left off.”

“Okay,” Corpse said, then realized that wasn’t really a response. “I promise. I’ll be waiting by the phone the moment I open my peepers.”

(Y/N) giggled. “I’ll be sure to call you the moment I open mine.”

“Goodnight (Y/N). Sleep tight.”

“Goodnight Corpse underscore Husband.”

kind of a bad ending, but i wasn’t really sure where else to go with it as i wrote it. sorry! :(

#corpse husband #corpse husband imagine #corpse #corpse imagine #corpse x reader #request #imagine #one shot #fanfiction #fanfic

[xgryffinwhore]

Hey! Can I request a jaeden martell x reader where basically their charters are dating on a tv show and they are really really good best friends in real life and they they both go on the Jimmy fallon show and he keeps on asking if they’re dating because everyone thinks they are and when they say no he obvi doesn’t let it go lol and it ends up slipping up that jaeden did/ does have a crush on reader and they maybe end up sharing a kiss in front is Jimmy & audience & stuff😶just an idea i had 😂:)

i love this idea wow, thinking i’m going to put my own little twist on it but i think you’ll still be pleased ;)

just friends

warnings!: suggestive topics, fluff

word count: 2.1k

five

your face was being touched up with powder, the cotton pad dabbing at your nose as the white powder absorbed into any oil your face may have had.

four

you look over at jimmy, this wasn’t your first talk show, but it had been the biggest one with the most following. it was intimidating, you bounced your foot up and down and played with your hands.

three

behavior jaeden had grown to recognize. he knew you better then you knew yourself, your anxiety was worse then you put it out to be. “you ok?” he questioned, “fine, i’m fine” you painted a small smile on your face. but he wasn’t easily fooled.

two

he grabbed one of your hands and rubbed circles into your palm, this sent vibrations of relaxation down your spine.

one

his eyes locked with yours, you swore they were a different color each time you saw them. sometimes more blue, sometimes more green, sometimes dark with mystery, sometimes light and playful.

‘aaand where on air’

you wiped the hand that was interlocked with his off on your dress, it was clammy. the curtain came up fast, and your vision was soon flooded with bright lights and silhouettes of bodies.

making out the faces in the sea of people was impossible, but you knew your friends were out there. they had flown out to see you, a) they could go see new york and b) you were on national television, and they wouldn’t miss it for the world.

jimmy was talking, you knew that much, but your nerves took over and honestly you weren’t registering a damn thing he was saying. the crowd cheered, you snapped out of your daze.

“and here tonight, we have jaeden martell and y/n l/n from the new HBO tv series: turning tables”

he turned to both of us, and gave everyone time to clap. he tired to speak over the loud hands, moving on with his show, but the crowd made that difficult. eventually the clapping died out and he could continue.

“now, i’ve watched all of the episodes but, for the people who haven’t seen: can you explain what the show is about?” he looked a jaeden, you let go of a breathe you had held in.

“s-sure” jaeden turned to face the audience more, he was soft spoken and shy, so it was important he projected as much as he could.

“turning tables is a teen drama. it’s about families of poverty in the seattle washington area and how they struggle to go to school and work. my character, jennings cooper, is the main protagonist. the show is mainly from his point of view, and how he struggle to support his family.”

jimmy nods and smiles, he looks pleased with his explanation. i’m truth the show wasn’t that simple, he knew that. but, it would take so long to explain.

“and y/n, who do you play?” he knew the answer to this obviously, but you were becoming a crowd favorite. everyone loved your personality, and you were an up-and-coming a list celebrity.

“i play parker marlow, jennings girlfriend” you blushed at this statement, the crowd giggled and ‘ouuu’ed. jimmy rubbed his hands together, getting excited at the upcoming topic of discussion.

“so, your romance on season one was steamy” you thought back to the scenes you did together. all of the kissing, which felt normal at this point. he wasn’t a bad kisser, in fact- you didn’t mind it at all. your romance through the season built up to a sex scene, your mind flashed through the memories of filming it.

filming those scenes isnt half as steamy as you think it is. it’s awkward, you laugh a lot. you had never felt that exposed in your life! however watching it was different, it looked so real, so perfect.

you blurred out your thoughts, mr. fallon still speaking on the subject. “can we expect more -“ jimmy searched for your ship name, it was on the tip of his tongue. the combination of your first names on the show didn’t make an attractive combo. it was either jarker or pennings. your last names matched a little better.

“-carlow” jaeden finished for him. jimmy nodded and smiled “yes- carlow- can we expect more carlow next season?” you both looked at each other and smiled. the writers for the show already had the next four seasons laid out. you knew that carlow was a continuing relationship on the show.

“yes, you should expect more of that sort of content from us” you stated. the people in the crowd had a positive responce to this, the applause lapping until it died out once again.

“right, your characters have so much chemistry in the show. two struggling teens just trying to break even.” jaeden agreed “yes, our characters balance each other out, and being from the same background helps them associate. jennings is kind of a bad boy-as the ladies say- he’s a felon, he steels cars and sells them to counterfeit manufacturers and dealers for money. parker, y/n’s character, has a job at a diner. she shows him the light at the end of the tunnel if he chooses to go down a good path.”

“yes, parker gets jennings a job at the diner with her, and he falls for her sweet disposition even after everything she’s been through” you add.

jimmy licks his lips and pops another question: “so id imagine the chemistry in the show heightens the real life thing?” he cocked an eye brow, the group gasping at the intrusiveness.

“jaeden and i are just friends” you blurt out, your nerves working up again. it was hard, you liked jaeden ever since you had your first kiss with him.

“y-yeah” he stutters, he obviously wasn’t expecting this either “friends” jimmy shakes his head and puts his finger on his lip “recently, you both have been showing a lot of pictures of you two together on social media.”

the audience ‘awwwed’ at the photos that displayed behind you. on the screen, there were pictures of you and him that were on both of your instagrams. you two at gardens, getting food, even watching movies at each other’s houses.

“for just friends, these photos looks intimate , wouldn’t you say” a bunch of ‘yes’’s and ‘mhm’’s came from the crowd as both of your faces became red.

“we’re just best friends, honestly” jaeden laughed nervously, he fixed his hair with his hand has he always does.

“right right- can you tell me when this photo is from?” jimmy asked, the last picture flashing on the screen. it was of you both, you had just filmed your first scene together.

the first scene you filmed together was episode two, he saved you after you fell into ice cold water. it was how the characters met, and it was filmed at a cove on a windy august day.

the picture was a little blurry, but it added character. he had his arm around you, both of your hair soaked, and you share a huge towel. you remember how cold you were, your teeth chattered so rapidly. his hair was stuck to his forehead and more small pieces went up. and your lips were almost purple, half from the makeup, half because you swore that was the coldest water you had ever went in.

“that’s from when we first started filming, it was the first time we met in the show” you recited, re living the memory in your head. you remember jaeden pulling your head into his chest when the wind began blowing. you remember his thumb trying to create friction on your back to make you just a little warm.

“yes yes- you two look so adorable!” jimmy squealed, he was the most teenage-girl-grown-man you had ever met. his hand opened one of the drawers in the faux desk he sat behind, pulling out a small blue camcorder.

the camcorder.

you know how on tv shows, there is special footage? sometimes it’s just behind the scene specials but sometimes- sometimes - it’s footage the actors document when they were just having fun? yeah it was one of those camcorders.

the camcorder was brought in by the two other co hosts wyatt oleff and finn wolfhard (i know this cast is sooo original not really) they played jaedens two best friends on the show. while they weren’t filming, they’d dick around and talk about stupid stuff. you’d never seen what they filmed, but you had been featured quite a few times; their by them pranking you, or invading your personal space.

you looked over at jaeden, you watched his adam’s apple bob and a thin layer of sweat flush over his face. he bounced his leg slightly, a habit he had picked up from you.

“let’s just review our material here” jimmy teased, his tongue darting out between his teeth. the video began to play, the sound was loud; assumingely for jaeden quiet voice in the tape.

the video started with wyatts unsteady hand, him and finn were running around set, they stopped at jaeden, he was playing on his phone in his trailer.

“jaeden wesley we have come for you” finn yelled. you could see jaeden shoot up from his chair. “hey guys” he waved. they talked for around a minute, jokes and all. then finn started to giggle, wyatt zoomed in on jaedens face.

“so jaeden, how’s y/n?” he chuckled, jaeden blushed “she’s ok i guess dunno.” wyatt stopped zooming in when the only thing in frame was jaedens head. “the kiss was good hm?” wyatt asked. jaeden continued to play on his phone, he nodded. “yeah, she’s pretty cute too.”

the video cut to another segment, this was filmed after the sex scene. you knew because jaeden laid on the bed you, in the same underwear that he wore during the scene. the boys were jumping on the bed, and jaeden took the camera and talked to it.

“this is for memory and memory ONLY! h-hey y/nnn” he was talking to the camera like it was you “you’re amazing and cool” you could hear finn explode into laughter as he stole the camera back and started running “yeah! and he wants your babies and loves you so much-“ “SHUT UP FINN!!!” and jaeden chased him around.

the video was taken off the screen. your face had become close to ghostly white. it was weird, it was almost like he was dumb enough to think finn wouldn’t give jimmy this blackmail goldmine. you looked at jaeden, he hit his bottom lip until it was red, he itches his neck and laughed it off.

“yeah ok-ok jimmy, maybe i liked her back in the day” jaeden tried so hard to be casual, but jimmy hit him with a heart stopper: “but mr martell, the last clip was filmed less then a month ago!”

your mind flickered with memories and ideas of him.

your first time meeting, how good his hand felt in yours. when you wiped icecream off his chin, and him dotting icecream on to the top of your nose. the way his hair always fell perfectly above his eye brow. and SHIT how he always smelt so fucking good. how he let you fall asleep in his arms and how he never complained when you put on some stupid romcom and-

“y/n?” jimmy questioned. “huh?” you spaced, come on y/n you gotta stop doing that. “i asked how you felt about all of this.” “well, there isn’t a right word i can use.”

jaeden took this has a bad reaction, he did a small wave to the crowd and stood up to get off the stage.

you stood up, grabbed his hand, and laid one right on him. kissing him felt normal, but now that there was emotion behind it, it just felt so right.

you both stopped for air, the crowd went wild. jimmy was clapping too, you could barley hear them, your heart was pumping throughout your whole body. you swore jaeden could hear it.

after the show, you sat in your dressing room for a bit, contemplating the events of tonight, and how they were all broadcasted for your embarrassment. but it was only the beginning. only the beginning of what was to come for mr. and mrs. jaeden martell.

#jaeden martell #jaeden martell fic #jaeden martell x reader #jaeden martell fluff #jaeden wesley #jaeden lieberher #jaeden #jaeden fic #bill denbrough #bill denbrough x you #bill denbrough fanfic #it move #imagine #it fanfiction #aged up

[nastybuckybarnes]

Deep End  -  Three

Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers X Reader

Summary: He’s back. After all your best efforts at getting away, he’s found you again. And this time, he’s not letting you go so easily. He’s determined to do whatever it takes to get you to be his. Forever.

Warnings: Dark Themes, Language, Angst, Manipulation, Anxiety

Word Count: 2.6K

A/n: Part three nowwww. I hope you guys enjoy!!! I’m not sure how often I’ll be posting but I hope it’s more frequently than im doing now. Anywho, here you go, and I hope you all have a great night!

Madness Masterlist

Bad Dream Masterlist

THIS IS A DARK FIC WITH SEXUAL AND TRIGGERING CONTENT!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!! 18+ ONLY!!!

~*~

The record player in the corner of the spare bedroom plays softly, the soothing voice of Billie Holiday filling your ears as your eyes skim over the room, lips pursed.

Although it isn’t ideal, having a project does make the time go by faster.

Just as you’re deciding where you want the crib to go, soft feet pad into the room, Sarah’s arms coming up to your leg.

“Mommy, why are you in here?” You glance down at her, one hand coming to ruffle her hair.

“Nothing, sweetheart.” She frowns, looking up at you. “Then why are you in here?”

You raise your eyebrows, a smile growing on your face at her sass.

“You ask a lot of questions, don’t you, missy?” She nods, putting her hands on her hips proudly.

“Yes, I do.” You roll your eyes, grabbing her hand and ushering her out of the room and down the stairs.

“C’mon. Let’s get you a snack.” Her mind is instantly occupied by what she wants to eat and as you’re rummaging around in the pantry, she’s climbing up onto the barstool.

“Your father should be home in a few hours, then maybe you can convince him to order pizza, just until we go grocery shopping.” You look at the nearly empty pantry with your lips pursed, grabbing some crackers and shaking them onto a plate for you and her to share.

“Why did we move out here with daddy?” She asks, making you freeze for a moment. You flounder for an answer but she shoots out another question, saving you from coming up with an excuse.

“Why didn’t you tell me that daddy was coming to pick us up?” That one you’ve thought about.

“I don’t know, honey. I guess it just never came up. And I didn’t know if or when he would come home from work.” She nods, taking a cracker and chewing it thoughtfully, swallowing before asking another question.

“Why do you look sad whenever daddy’s around?” That one catches you off guard even more than the first one did, and you cough twice, trying to gather your thoughts.

“I-I’m not sad, baby. I’m just trying to get used to living with him again, that’s all.” She hums, seemingly pleased with the answer.

A few minutes of silent eating go by before you find yourself wanting to ask her something.

“Sarah,” you begin, waiting until she looks up at you to continue.

When her sparkling blue eyes meet yours, you lower your voice slightly.

“Do you like living here with your dad?” Her face lights up and you have your answer before she speaks.

“I do! I really like living here and Morgan’s my best friend and I’m happy to have daddy back! And I like that we get to see Aunty Nat more and I like Uncle Bucky too!” You nod slowly, pursing your lips.

“So do you want to stay here, then?” She nods eagerly, a smile on her face.

“I really do! I love it here! I’m so happy daddy came to pick us up!” You let out a shaky breath and nod, your one chance at leaving being crushed.

Steve treats his daughter right and she’s happy here. You can’t very well take away her happiness and replace it with longing and instability. Not when she’s been your pillar during those four years away from Him.

She deserves some semblance of peace. And you’re willing to sacrifice yours if it means that she can get hers.

~*~

“Daddy!” Sarah runs to the front door and intercepts her father as soon as she can see him, jumping up into his arms excitedly.

“Hi, baby!” He hugs her tightly, transferring her to one arm effortlessly and walking into the house.

“How was your day at school?” He asks, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“It was good! Can we get pizza for dinner?” He raises his brows, eyes fluttering around the house in search of you.

“Well, we’re gonna have to ask your mom about that, okay?” She nods, shimmying out of his grip and up the stairs.

He sets his work bag down on the counter, following the little blond girl up the stairs and smiling when he sees you in the spare bedroom, a look of concentration on your face and a pretty blue dress on your figure.

“Hi, honey,” he whispers, his arms wrapping around your frame.

“Hi,” you murmur, trying to remember the measurements of the dresser as you inspect the bedroom.

“Pizza!” Sarah exclaims, tugging on the bottom of your dress.

“Oh yeah.” You turn around to face Steve, eyes meeting his for a brief moment before falling to his shoulder.

“Could we order pizza tonight? W-we don’t have much for groceries but I can make a list and we could pick some up tomorrow morning? I just- it’s Friday and b-before...” you take a deep breath, fighting tears as memories of life before start to fill your mind.

“Hey, Sarah? Could you do me a favour please, princess?” Steve glances down at his daughter, sensing that this may be a conversation best had in privacy.

“Yes, daddy?”

“Could you go downstairs and see if there are any snacks that we have that you want? Or any that you want us to buy for you?” She nods eagerly, running out of the room and down the stairs, leaving you alone with her father.

You take another deep breath then explain yourself in depth.

“Friday’s used to be pizza night for her and me. We’d order pizza and watch a movie. Nat or... or my dad would come over too but... we haven’t had a pizza night since coming here and I think it would bring her more comfort and more normality.” He eyes you for a moment.

“It would bring her that or you that?” You swallow hard, eyes cast down to the floor.

“Either answer is valid, darling. I want you to be happy here and if we need to make pizza Friday’s a thing, then we’ll make them a thing. I just want the two of you to be happy and healthy, okay?” You sniffle then nod, your bottom lip wobbling as anxiety courses through your veins.

“Hey, talk to me. What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” You squeeze your eyes shut as a tear slides down your cheek.

“I-I’m scared,” you whisper, terrified to confess this but knowing he won’t do anything with Sarah so close by.

“Of what?” He asks gently, trying to coax it out of you.

“Of you.” His fingers stop their tracing on your waist and he stiffens.

“I-I don’t want you to hurt me. And I know I can’t leave. I can’t run b-because I tried once and you found me. And Sarah loves it here and I don’t want to deprive her of that, of you, but I’m so terrified of you.” He’s quiet for a long moment before wrapping you up in his arms, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“Thank you for telling me,” he whispers. He’s not angry like you thought he’d be. No, he’s supportive and gentle, and you feel more tears fall from your eyes.

“I’m not going to hurt you, okay? Not like I did before. I love you, (Y/n). And I need you. Sarah needs you. I’d never...” He trails off, swallowing hard and shaking his head.

“You’re mine. I want you to do things a certain way, yes, but I’m not going to hurt you the way that I did before, okay? As long as you stay here and you behave. You've done pretty well so far, but I know it’s gonna take time. I just hope that when the baby comes you don't go back to your old ways.” His hand finds your tummy, rubbing gently.

“I’m all alone during the day, Steve. I don’t have any friends o-or any family. You’ve got me locked in this big house all day and I can’t even access the cutlery. It’s hard not to feel like a prisoner when you treat me like one.” Anger flashes across his features for a moment and you tug away from him.

“Just like it’s gonna take you some time to trust me again, it’s gonna take me time to trust you. You’ve hurt me before, (Y/n). A lot. I told you that I won’t treat you the way I did at first and I mean that, but if you even try to take my daughter from me, I’ll stop you. I’ll use whatever force necessary.” You swallow hard and nod, your fingers trembling.

“Now, you go make a list with Sarah while I shower. When I’m finished we’ll order pizza and watch a movie, okay?” You nod again, this one more reluctant.

You go to move past him but his hand grips your wrist, halting you.

“I love you, (Y/n). And I’ll do anything to keep you in my life. But you know that already, don’t you?” You glance over at him, the fire in his eyes making your heart race in your chest.

“Mommy! Is applesauce in the fridge?” Sarah’s voice saves you from having to answer, and you hurry down the stairs.

Steve stands in the spare bedroom, thoughts filling his mind, a deep voice whispering that you need to be punished.

He shakes the thought from his mind and walks to his bedroom, ready to take a shower then relax with his family.

~*~

Beauty and the Beast plays softly on the TV, two almost empty pizza boxes are on the coffee table and the three of you are on the couch.

You’re curled up against his side, if only to be able to watch as your daughter sleeps peacefully in his lap, her mouth open and soft snores falling from her lips.

You’re not sure what comes over you, whether it be fear from your conversation earlier or you wanting to get on his good side, but you speak.

“She says she loves being here, living with you and going to school with Morgan,” you whisper, your eyes trained on your daughter as Steve looks over at you.

“She uh, she wants to stay, more than anything in the world. And even if I had the option, I don’t think I’d take her from here. I... I couldn’t do something like that to her.” Your eyes slowly meet Steve’s and he smiles softly, understanding the meaning behind your words.

You wouldn’t leave him even if you could.

“I’m glad. I love having you both here. Everything’s been so much better since you guys have been back in my life.” You take a deep breath then turn back to the tv, leaning your head against his shoulder slowly.

His arm winds around your figure, hugging you closer to him with a smile.

“It’s all going to be okay, honey. I promise. Everything will be okay.”

~*~

The weeks pass in a blur of dresses, cooking, and reading.

Every day is so much the same that it’s become painful. You’d kill for a new book, a job, fuck, even a better project than the one you have now.

“Well why don’t you order the furniture?” Steve asks when you bring it up to him one Sunday morning.

“I... I don't wanna order anything until we know for sure that I’m pregnant.”

He knows that if you aren’t pregnant already, you will be within a few days. The fertility pills he’s been giving you should’ve already taken effect, but if not he’s more than willing to keep trying for a baby.

“And I don’t wanna pick out colours or anything yet, and if we get the furniture now we’re just gonna have to move it when we paint the room, so it seems like the least logical thing to do,” you explain, fingers twisting around your mug of tea.

“I think it’s prime time to start planting. You could start a little garden out back? Give you something to take care of and whatnot,” he suggests, watching as you purse your lips.

It would be nice to have fresh vegetables and flowers. And getting dirty’s never really bothered you.

“Alright. But I don’t know what grows well out here. Back... where we were before, we could grow lots of things. I don’t know what flourishes out here.” He walks around the kitchen island and takes your hand, leading you to the couch.

“We’ll look it up, and then I’ll grab some seed and you can start the garden tomorrow. How’s that sound?” You nod, sitting down beside him.

“Could you maybe pick up some books on gardening too? I’m not the best and I want this to turn out well.” He smiles, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Of course, anything for you, honey.”

True to his word, Steve provides you with seeds, gardening supplies, and multiple books on gardening.

You start your garden the very next day, spending hours outside in the sun, trying to get your little garden to look like the ones in the pictures.

It takes all week to get it going properly, but you’re proud of your work, bringing Sarah out after school on friday and showing her all the different plants that will grow.

Now you’re sitting at the dining room table, soft music playing while your fingers fidget anxiously and your mind flutters to your daughter.

“She’s alright, darling. Tony and Pepper will take good care of her, I promise. And they know to call at the first sign of trouble.” You take a deep breath and nod, pushing the food on your plate around with your fork as anxiety courses through you.

It’s your baby girl’s first sleepover.

“I just... I’ve never really been away from her. Every night we read a bedtime story and she gives me a hug and two kisses goodnight. What if she has a nightmare, Steve? W-what if she wakes up and she’s scared because she doesn’t know where she is o-or where we are? What if-”

“Honey,” he cuts you off, a gentle smile on his face.

“It’s going to be okay, I promise. This is just as good for you as it is for her. You’ve got separation anxiety. But it’s all gonna be okay, I promise.” You take a couple more deep breaths, fighting tears.

You miss your daughter.

“Stand up,” Steve orders.

Your eyes flash up to him, nervous for a completely new reason now as you slowly rise to your feet.

He walks around the table, eyes unreadable until he stands in front of you.

The record player whispers Paul Anka, and for a moment that’s all you can hear is the sound of his voice singing out softly.

Steve takes one of your hands gently in his, the other hand finding your waist and tugging you softly against his body.

“Dance with me,” he murmurs. It’s not a command like you thought it would be, no. It’s a request.

A hardly whispered plea for you to dance with him, and you don’t have it in you to deny him.

You’re tense as you nod your agreement, shoulders tight and back stiff as he slowly starts to sway the two of you to the music.

His hand is so gentle on the small of your back, holding you so tenderly that you can’t help but relax in his hold, your tense muscles loosening up.

You slowly lean your head against his chest, closing your eyes and basking in the comfort of being held so softly by him.

He lets out a small breath of relief, a smile tugging at his lips as he hugs you even closer to his body, lips pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head before his chin rests atop it, his own eyes fluttering closed.

He leads the dance, and for a beautifully perfect moment, you feel comfortable and at home in his arms.

#Steve Rogers x reader #dark Steve Rogers x reader #steve x reader dark fic #Steve rogers x reader dark fic #bucky x reader #Steve rogers x reader Dark!fic #stucky x reader dark fic #Steve Rogers/reader dark fic #Steve Rogers/reader #Steve Rogers/you #dark fic #tw dark themes

[drakenology]

My Other Half. - Bokuto Kōtarō

warnings: smut, soft, passionate love making, fluff, angst?, best friends to lovers, maaaybe overstim?, praise, fem!reader, cunnilingus (a fancy word for pussy eating). just bokuto going all out to make you feel good.

Summary: Two childhood friends reunite after years of being separated to find old memories and new feelings of love.

Author’s Note: this is my first ever like fluffy piece. all my other work I feel has just been raunchy and I wanted to show yall my soft side. enjoy! <3

Bokuto Kotoro. A name you knew well. A name you knew since you were both kids playing in dirt together, running around and screaming without a care in the world. Two peas in a pod; like Peter Pan and Tinker Bell. It was a sad day when he moved away. Your only friend packed up and left for Tokyo, tears in his eyes as he sat in the backseat of his parents’ car. He waved goodbye through the glass window as the car drove away, a trail of his tears seeming to follow the car as it went. That was the last time you saw him.

When you turned twenty one, your birthday present was a small house in Japan. Some place rural and quiet to do your writing, a small creek flowing in your back yard. You packed up and left home, kissing your mother and father goodbye as you walked out the door. Maybe you’ll run into Bokuto? Hell, he probably won’t even recognize you. It’s been years after all.

You still hoped some how some way fate would bring you together again. You missed him like crazy. His laugh, his stupid jokes. That sparkle in his eyes when he saw you at school. The bear hugs he used to give when you scraped your knee playing with him at the park. It was crazy to assume he’d be waiting for you in Tokyo as if you were the only girl he’d ever meet or care to talk to.

He’s grown now, just about a year older than you. He could have a significant other by now. Your heart ached at the thought. Even though it was selfish to call dibs on a childhood crush who hasn’t seen you in over 10 years, you still hoped; prayed that he was waiting for you or at least remembered you.

When you arrive in your new home and settle in you decide to take the town. Surely you can make some friends, maybe even meet a guy while you’re out? You don’t bother to get all gussied up, walking outside your front door and walking to the nearest bar you can drink your inhibitions away in. The bar you found was small and smelled a bit like sweaty athletes and sake.

The atmosphere was lively despite the off putting smell, everyone was laughing and chatting aloud. The sounds of glasses clinking in celebration and jovial cheering filled the space. You smile softly at the sight of everyone having a great time and find a spot in a nice booth by the window.

The guys behind you must be where the sweaty smell was coming from, their clammering laughter pounding at your head. You try ignoring it until you hear a different yet familiar voice; boisterous and proud like a boy you once knew.

“Yo, Akaashi! Pass the ketchup man, I’m hungry!” He whined childishly, same as always. You turn around swiftly to see if the face matched the voice. Surely enough there he was sitting there, tall as a tree even when sitting in his seat.

God he got so handsome, his face definitely grew into his looks. Bokuto wasn’t a little boy anymore for sure. You stammer, looking between Bokuto and his messy haired friend sitting next to him and a few others. You go to say something only for your own anxiety to stop you, your heart fluttering in your chest in a new way you haven’t felt before.

Finally Bokuto’s eyes meet yours and you both sit there for a while just staring, as if each of you couldn’t believe you were seeing each other again after all this time in forever. Bokuto’s face crept into a smile; a familiar smile that melted your heart.

“Y/n-chan? Tell me you’re joking! I can’t believe it’s you!” Bokuto shouts over everyone’s conversation, leaping from his seat and running towards your booth. You’re still stuck there turned around looking like an owl gawking at the table behind you to realize what’s going on.

Bokuto practically lifts you from your seat and wraps you in one of his famous bear hugs, the ones that made you cry into his chest. As tradition called, you start sobbing into his shirt. Your arms wrap around his neck and pull him in tight almost to tell him not to let you go ever again.

“Hey hey hey.. why are you crying? Shit you’re gonna make me cry. Stop it.” Bokuto says into your shoulder, rubbing soothing circles into your back with his big hand.

“I-I’m sorry I just.. it’s been so long.” You admit, sniffling as he pulled away to wipe your face. You can’t help but get emotional at the sight of him.

“Geez, Y/N if you missed me just say that.” Bokuto teased, erupting into furious laughter at your flustered face.

“Oh shut up Bokuto!” You squeak, punching him in his side like the old days. Your usual banter made you two look at each other and laugh as if you two were the only ones in the bar, his friends staring at the the two of you as if you were insane.

“Uh Bokuto.. who is this woman?” The messy haired friend asked, looking about the most confused out of everyone.

“Huh? Oh! Sorry guys. This is Y/N Y/L/N. Other than Akaashi, she’s one my closest friends. Our moms were close so we were raised kinda like siblings.” Bokuto explained, nudging you to say hello.

You wave and introduce yourself, the everyone ooing and ahhing at you. Not to toot your horn but you were gorgeous. Even Bokuto couldn’t take his eyes off you.

He was thinking of how well you grew up, so stunning and so you. Bokuto remembers the little scar you had just above your eyebrow from tripping over and rock and smiles when he sees it, almost wanting to reach out and poke it like when he did when he was 10. He wonders if you remember that day.

You were playing pretend by the trees in the park, you were good and he was evil. You were chasing him and you tripped and fell, causing the evil doer act to shed away to make sure you were alright. You both made up a crazy story about your scar to your mother; which she never believed. Good times.

The rest of the night was spent catching up and talking like he wasn’t even with others originally. Everyone else eventually had gone home, Akaashi the last to go. He waved goodbye to you and Bokuto and drove home, you and Bokuto still sitting at the bar basking in each other’s company.

“Wow! So your parents got you a place here so you can work? Nice. And you live nearby too. So I can come and visit you and- sorry I’m rambling.” Bokuto says sheepishly, running his hands along the nape of his neck. You giggle, taking a sip of your drink.

“No no, you’re fine Bokuto. Of course you can visit. My house is your house.” You smile, Bokuto’s cheeks heating up as he blushed. You check the time and notice it was far too late and stand from your seat.

“It’s late, Kō, we should call it a night.” You say, grabbing your things. Bokuto smiles and stands up with a stretch of his limbs; relishing in his old nickname.

“Come on. I’ll walk you home.”

You two talk and talk all the way home, years of catching up to do feeling long over due. When you get to your home you almost feel sad that you’re about to depart from each other. It felt like you weren’t going to see him again. Bokuto pulls you into a hug, spinning you around a little. He laughs when you squeal and yell at him to put you down.

“Hey. I’ll come by tomorrow night so we can watch movies.” He declares, standing you on your feet.

“Hah. How do you know I won’t have plans, hm?” You teased, poking Bokuto’s forehead. It was a lot easier when you were younger since he was shorter than you back then. Boy sprouted like a palm tree.

“You just moved here. Besides. You know I’m your favorite.” Bokuto smirks, taking your hand and spinning you. You giggle and punch his shoulder lightly.

“As if, Kō. See ya tomorrow.”

A month goes by swiftly. Bokuto had been over to your house more often than you thought he’d be. You loved the time you spent together just goofing off and being big kids.

Your schedules worked perfectly together, his volleyball is usually done by the evening and your work is over just after him. Bokuto would pick you up from work with fast food waiting in the car for you both to eat together. Today was no different, the smell of fries greeting your hungry nose as you climb inside his car.

“Yo! How was your day, nerd?” Bokuto asks, fisting his fries into his mouth as you dig for yours.

“It was okay. I’m starving though.” You say, stuffing your face with your food.

You both sit in the car and eat for a while, Bokuto’s phone breaking your shared silence. You look down at where it rested in the cup holder and read the caller id. It was a girl. Bokuto answers the phone, sounding as if he didn’t want her to call him right at this moment.

“I’ll call you back. Bye.” He said, hanging up his phone and sitting it back in the cup holder. You couldn’t help but feel a little jealous, your heart sinking as your head makes up several sceanarios about who she was, what she meant to him.

You eat in silence, answering Bokuto’s yammering with no ambition. Bokuto’s so dumb he doesn’t even notice the difference in attitude as the call wasn’t as scandalous as you seemed. It was just some girl who was trying to get with Akaashi but was too afraid to say anything herself so she had asked Bokuto to set them up.

“My place or yours today?” He asked, sing songy and happy.

“Mine.” You say monotonously. Bokuto looks over at you and sees you’re not even facing him, your face stuck to the window as he drove off.

“Hey, what’s wrong? I smell?” Bokuto said, playfully smelling his armpits. You shake your head and insist it’s nothing and that you’ll get over it. But it wasn’t nothing, and you were pretty certain you weren’t going to get over it. Was that his girlfriend? Some random hook up looking for another round? It made you sick to your stomach thinking about it. You got out of the car when Bokuto parked, walking to your front door to unlock it as Bokuto followed behind you.

“I pick the movie out this time. I’ll be damned if you pick another chick flick out.” Bokuto says plopping on your couch and turning on the tv, making himself at home.

You sigh and walk into your room to change into something more comfortable, rolling your eyes as you hear Kōtarō yell about the movie starting. You walk out in shorts and a tank top since it was pretty hot inside and sit next to him, folding your arms.

Bokuto’s eating his snacks and talking through the whole movie since he’s seen it before. He always picks a movie he’s seen before so he can tell you the whole plot, forgetting that you could just watch the movie for that. You half laugh and sigh at all his mannerisms, your guard completely blocking him out from getting any closer to you.

“Is something wrong, Y/N? Seriously you’re being a little stand offish.” Bokuto says, a serious tone taking place. You scoffed, rolling your eyes to hide that you’re obviously upset by something.

“Nothing.” You snide.

“Don’t ‘nothing’ me. Somethin’s wrong. Don’t make me start guessing.” Bokuto says. You sigh.

“It’s so stupid.” You admit.

“How you feel isn’t stupid. Tell me what’s up.” He persisted, pausing the movie.

“I just- well.. I-How do I say this? I’m.. jealous?” You finally admit. Bokuto raises an eyebrow.

“Jealous? About what?”

“Well. I saw a girl call you and I-I just assumed it was your girlfriend so..”

“Wait what? I don’t have a girlfriend. And besides why would you care?” Bokuto further questions, his face nearing yours with a perplexed look on his face. You flush, turning your face away from his.

“I-I don’t know I just-“

“You’re in love with me, aren’t you Y/N?” Bokuto smirks, turning your head to face him with your chin. You blink up at him, embarrassed and flustered.

“I-um-I...” You stutter. You loved the idiot sitting next to you with all your heart. But to say it was a different story.

“Because I love you too. So say it back.” Bokuto declares. You freeze for a moment, almost unsure you heard what you just heard.

“R-Really?”

“I love you, Y/N. The moment I saw you again felt like...fate. It was like everything made sense again. I never realized how much tou meant to me until I left that day. You’re my other half.” He says to you so sweetly, his words stirring up emotions inside you that were aching to be let out. Your eyes sting as you choke back tears, clutching onto Bokuto’s hands.

“Kōtarō... I-I love you too. All those years felt so empty without you. And God I just wanted to kiss you that day at the bar and I-“

Bokuto stops you midsentence to pull his face into yours and kiss you hard, your heads bumping into each other a bit from the sudden movement. Passion flowed through the kiss, your mouths exploring each others for the very first time. You sigh, wrapping your arms around his neck as you go to straddle him.

Bokuto welcomes you onto his lap with ready hands, palms feeling every curve and divot of your body. Your need for each other grew with each kiss, mindlessly grinding against each other to feel closer. Every touch of his big hands made you feel alive, setting your body on fire. Bokuto starts to whine softly, his pants growing a tad bit tight at all the raw kissing. He pulled away, lips swollen and breathing uneven.

“I want you so badly. Can I-“ Bokuto goes to ask for consent, his nervousness making him struggle to find the words he’s looking for.

You shut him up with another kiss, already knowing what he wants to say as he lifts you up and carries you away. Starting in the kitchen he sits you on the counter as he takes off your top, your bare breasts popping out when the garment flies over your head and onto the floor. He’s never seen such gorgeous breasts before, he swore. Seeing you this way only made him long for you more, standing there dumb founded at the sight of your chest.

“W-Wow.” Bokuto gasps, taking both your breasts into his hands and oogling at them with love in his eyes. “So perfect.”

He takes one into his warm mouth, your body arching at the feeling and letting out a small whine. Music to his ears.

“Kō..” you sigh, closing your eyes as he suckled on your nipples.

His tongue slid over each hardened bud and looked up at you, studying your body language to learn it well. Without a word he slides off your shorts and pick you up again, hoisting you away to your bedroom after asking where it is.

Frantic kisses and breathless moans trail down the hall with a reach of the doorknob. You’re laid carefully onto the bed, Bokuto crawling on top of you without daring to pull his lips from yours just yet.

He could kiss you for hours. He could die right now and be completely content all because of this moment. Bokuto takes his hands and slides them down to the waist band of your panties, tugging them down to reveal your dripping core.

Bokuto teased his fingers along your slick folds, savoring the feeling of your wetness on his skin.

You let out the sweetest sounds he’s ever heard, urging him to draw more music from your lips. He crawls downwards towards your pussy, laying on his stomach and pulling your hips forward.

You gasp at the sudden feeling of his tongue parting your folds, mewling as you arch your back. His tongue worked its magic on you, sliding up to your clit to pay special attention to it. Breathless calls of his name fill the air, your hands grabbing fist fulls of the sheets as he fucked you with his tongue.

Your eyes roll back with every swipe of his tongue, relishing in the toe curling pleasure he gave you. That familiar knot started forming in the pit of your stomach, your moans increasing in volume as you near your orgasm. Bokuto must have sensed this and wrapped his plush lips around your throbbing clit, prodding his fingers at your weeping hole to fill you.

“Kō! I-I’m gonna cum!” You whine, your hands finding home in his hair and tugging lightly. Bokuto responded with a groan against your clit and a hook in his fingers, causing you to boil over without hesitation. Your thighs shake around his head, one hand covering your mouth to spare your neighbors the noise. Bokuto comes back up to kiss you, your slick coating his lips and chin. You taste your sweetness and kiss him with tongue, both of you sighing into each other.

“Wanna... be inside you.” Bokuto says breathlessly into the kiss, his dick aching to be let out of his pants.

You pull away and unbutton his jeans, Bokuto kicking them off onto the floor and pulling down his boxers. Your pussy throbbed at the sight of his dick, its sheer size enough to make you salivate. The way it swung a little when he took off his boxers, the prominent veins running along the shaft, its head blushing and leaking with precum. Bokuto had a gorgeous dick. You almost wanted to put it in your mouth but the heat of the moment called for a different hole to be filled.

Bokuto prods himself at your entrance and slowly slides inside you, inhaling sharply at the contact. You gasp at the dull stretch, feeling so full as you mewl uncontrollably. His hips roll slowly, thrusting deep inside your gummy walls as he rested his forehead onto yours. Your legs wrap around his waist, nails digging into the skin of his back as he picked up the pace.

“You feel so good, baby.” He spoke, kissing you gently to soothe you. You can feel him so deeply it almost brought a tear to your eye, his plunging movements sending your mind into a stupor.

He mummbled sweet praise against your neck, kissing the soft skin as he took you. A part of him wanted to go harder; really ruin that sweet face of yours and turn you into a lewd mess, but you mean more than that to him. This moment is nothing but pure love between two people who have known each other all their lives. You shriek as his hips start slamming into yours, back arching off the bed as your nipples pebbled against his chest.

“I-I love you, Bokuto.” You whine. Your eyes flash white, your vision becoming foggy as the mind boggling pleasure ripples through your body. You chant his name like a mantra, Bokuto mumbling how much he loves you as his hips do more of the talking. You feel him throb inside you, it becoming obvious he’s holding back so you can cum first. He’s rubbing circles into your clit as he pins your legs above your head. It all became so much so fast, your mewls spewing from your lips no longer caring who hears what.

“Let go for me, baby. C’mon..” He hums, nibbling on your neck. You scream, your tight cunny clenching down on his length as you cum for a second time that night. Bokuto rides out your orgasm, watching your body shake and shiver at the feeling of him sliding in and out of your weeping hole.

Bokuto doesn’t have time to think of where to cum, your walks sucking him in so well he loses all sense of control. He cums hot inside you, your pussy milking him for everything he had as he pants into your neck. You both stay in position for a while, looking at each other with love sick eyes. Bokuto rests himself on top of you, still nuzzled inside you as his cum leaks onto the sheets. You’re both out of breath, sitting in the high you both came to as you rub lazy circles into his back.

Nothing but pure love circulated the air as you rest together in bed, naked and vulnerable. You don’t say anything but soft I love yous to each other, gentle kisses on each others lips as you fell asleep in each other’s arms.

#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu smut #haikyuu bokuto #haikyuu headcanons #queue made me do it 🥴

[pradaksj]

Safety Net || part two (final). (m.)

all rights reserved © pradaksj

↳do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.

❧ summary ⟶ on new year’s eve, you and jungkook reflect on each other’s entire year together.

❧ pairing⟶ jungkook/reader

❧ genre⟶  enemies to friends, friends to lovers, fluff, angst, pining, smut, boxer!jungkook. two-part series.

❧ word count ⟶ 16,000+

❧ warnings ⟶ descriptions of an anxiety/panic attack, character death (non-major), smut which includes ... passionate to rough sex, oral (female receiving), penetration, fingering, unprotected sex (please have sex responsibly lol). 

❧ music⟶ safety net, selfish, stuck on you, exile, +more

❧ a/n ⟶ I am still fairly new to writing smut so sorry if it doesn’t meet your expectations 😭 also to all my people who don’t like smut “*” signals where you can stop reading as the smut is really just a bonus scene at the end. and remember dark purple = entering/still in the past, light purple = present

01 | 02 (final) 

“God were we dramatic,” you laugh, glad that the recollection of your big fight with Jungkook was something that could by now be laughed at rather than seen as something you’d dearly regret, “Don’t you think?” you ask Jungkook, concern immediately washing over you once you see the sad look on his face, “Jungkook?”

Jungkook stares blankly at the lake in front of him, surprised at the resurgence of the same heavy feeling in chest he had felt several months before, “Did I—Did I say something wrong?” you worry that you’ve hurt his feelings, that being one of, if not the, last thing you wanted to do tonight.

Quietly he nods his head no, “I just—” he struggles to voice his thoughts, “I was—” he shakes his head and you grab his hand in comfort, giving him a small smile.

“Hey,” you giggle, “what happened is in the past,” you reassure.

“I know but—” he sighs, pushing his hair back with his other hand, “I just still feel bad, you know? I mean we went a whole month without talking…. practically hating one another…”

August 2019. 

It had been about a month since your explosive argument with Jungkook, and despite living together... the two of you had never been so far apart. Not only were you not on speaking terms, but it was as if neither of you existed in each other's proper world, completely avoiding each other at all costs.

One would think that because you two lived with one another, you’d be bound to have some kind of awkward bump ins from time to time, but somehow the two of you managed to steer clear of each other. From eating breakfast and dinner at separate times, to talking to Hobi at your own respective times, and of course the first thing Jungkook did the next day after your fight was move his things out of your restroom and into Hobi’s. You weren’t going to lie, it did sting just a little , but you were quick to get over it. The part that made Hobi roll his eyes even further back than they already did, was how quickly you two scrambled around each other whenever you did happen to coincidentally be in the same place such as the kitchen.

Originally Hobi tried any and every method possible to get you two to make up, knocking on doors and trying to trick you two into talking, faking handwriting, stealing personal belongings, and of course begging. Hell, he even tried confronting you two in one of the rare times you guys were in the kitchen at the same time, but all you two did was remain silent and go back into your respective rooms. Not bothering to even spare a glance at one another.

He had given up about two weeks in of trying, deciding that it was up to you two to figure out how you guys would make up. But it wasn’t until this Friday morning when he saw a certain letter stick out of the mail that he found himself loudly sighing.

“Oh Jungkook…” he whispers to himself, shaking his head as he read the letter in front of him. What was he going to do now?

It didn’t take long for Jungkook to get used to being the lone wolf in the apartment again, in fact it was easy for him to completely ignore your existence. It was easy to watch you struggle opening a jar full of kimchi. It was easy to catch a glimpse of you and Hobi watching One Piece on the couch whenever he was making his way out of the apartment to go and party. It was easy to hear you sing along to some new girl group song and not join along whenever he passed by your room. And it was very easy to hate you. Very easy indeed.

Gosh, who was he kidding? It was the hardest freaking thing in the world to do. Especially because he didn’t hate you at all. Pretending to? Yes. Actually? Fuck no.

If he was being honest, any hatred he had felt in the moment of the big argument had been rapidly washed away the moment he slammed his door shut. Instead it had been quickly replaced by the feeling of hurt and sadness. He even found himself sneaking into the kitchen that night to grab an extra pint of ice cream from the freezer and watch some stupid K-drama from his laptop back in his room. Even shedding a small tear when the male and female lead had to break up due to unforeseen circumstances. But of course if you asked him if it was true, he’d deny it in a heartbeat.

He’d often find himself zoning out and replaying the fight in his head. God, was he an idiot. What was he thinking destroying your painting like that? Did he really think you weren’t going to react the way you did? Sadly, the answer was a mixture of both yes and no. Yes, he wanted you to feel as hurt as he did, but he didn’t expect you to go fully ballistic on him. Did he blame you for it? No, of course not. You had every right to be mad at him as he had acted out in completely blind rage. Not bothering to stop for one moment and ask himself, am I okay with the possible outcome of what I’m about to do? Had he known it was going to be this, and well … he would’ve never done it.

It just happened so quick. One moment he was staring at the floor covered with broken pieces of glass and the next he had his fist going through the canvas of your painting, destroying the very thing he convinced you to work on. No wonder you hated him…

You hated him and you had every right to. He just wasn’t sure how long he was going to be able to take it anymore. Having to only catch glimpses of you from time to time and not being able to say anything because he was too ashamed to even look at you was truly killing him. And he could only imagine how you felt having to see him every day and night. Knowing the person you hated most was living under the same roof as you. Hell, if the roles were reversed he probably wouldn’t want you around at all.

Which is why as Jungkook currently stares aimlessly at the ceiling of his room, he knows he’s made the right decision.

The night of the fight between you and Jungkook, you had felt a range of emotions that honestly were quite overwhelming. Whenever you’d stare off into space you’d find yourself feeling very sad and reflective, but whenever you even caught a glimpse of your then destroyed painting on the floor you’d feel the rush of anger return all at once. It was like that the whole night, not even an episode of One Piece could cheer you up. If anything it made you feel even more confused because you were on the episode where (spoiler alert) *** dies, and well not only were you mad at how it happened, but sad because it was happening. Hell, that was probably the best way to describe how you felt about the whole argument.

The first couple of days had been hard to say the least, the dynamic between all three of you drastically changing in the matter of a couple days. No longer were there grocery shopping trips together, nor were there laundry days where you and Jungkook would compete to see who could fold the fastest, and of course there were no longer Netflix movie nights where Hobi would complain because you and Jungkook kept cracking too many jokes during the most intense scenes. Your laughs always echoing across the living room walls thus ruining the buildup of the scene.

You were good at pretending you didn’t care, in fact you were great at it. Maybe because a part of you actually didn’t care. You had long been fed up with Jungkook’s moody antics, and him destroying that painting was the final straw. Yeah, maybe you shouldn’t have gone into his room after he specifically told you not to, but you only did because you were worried about him and actually cared about him. Couldn’t he have seen that before he went full on rampage mode and destroyed your painting? He was wrong for what he did, and at the end of the day he had no right to hate you. Right?

These days you found yourself doubting it. It wasn’t like you were in the entire right, you mean you had invaded his privacy … you shake your head, begrudgingly getting out of bed before dwelling on your thoughts for any longer. The re-do of your painting, which currently sat on its easel, serving as reminder that you weren’t planning on talking to him anytime soon.

“Good Morning to you,” Hobi greets, watching you stomp your way into the kitchen, clearly running on an empty stomach. Jungkook was currently out, either working out or …. Hobi sighs recalling what he saw in the letter this morning.

“Good morning,” you mumble, the grouchy mood that Hobi found himself a little too used to making its morning return. In all the years he’s known you, to see you always this …. down …. was very unlike of you to say the least.

Whether you liked it or not, your fight with Jungkook had definitely changed some aspects of your personality, even if you didn’t want to admit it to yourself yet. Because no matter how good you were good at faking it, and trust him you were good (a professional indeed), behind that tough wall you had put up in the last month was a person who was hurt. A person who had their heart crushed right in front of them.

Grabbing two slices of bread, you place them in the toaster, preparing to make yourself some avocado toast. You sigh when you hear Hobi’s footsteps getting closer, not wanting to hear the whole “You need to talk to Jungkook” speech this early on a Saturday morning.

Turning around to face him, you’re prepared to protest against his usual lecture, “Hobi I don’t—” the sound of an envelope hitting the counter catching you off guard, stopping you from continuing any further. Furrowing your brows, your eyes glint with confusion. Hobi stares at you with a stoic expression, waiting for you to grab the letter from the island’s counter.

Slowly you grab the white envelope, extremely confused as to what this had to do with. The name on the recipient line reads, “Jeon Jungkook” and for a small second you feel your heart stop, but you’re quick to shake it off.

“This isn’t mine, if you can’t tell,” you scoff, preparing to hand the envelope back to Hobi.

Pushing your hand away, he says, “Read it,” his tone telling you that it wasn’t exactly an option.

Rolling your eyes, you pull out the single piece of paper that’s inside, unfolding the tri-folded letter. Your eyes quickly gaze over the subject line which reads, “Application Approval,” catching your attention. From there you continue to read…

Dear Jeon Jungkook,

We are pleased to notify you that we have received and accepted your application for the lease property of **** Jangsin-Ro, Apartment 32. Your lease will begin on September 28, 2019 and your rent amount is ₩****  for every 1st of the month. Any cancellations will result in a ₩*** fee. I want to thank you for your application and anticipate that you will have an enjoyable living experience in your new home.

If you have any questions, please feel free to contact me.

Sincerely,

Bang Si-Hyuk.

Wait what? Your eyes reread the letter that’s in front of you because clearly you were reading something wrong. Your eyes must’ve been deceiving you because there was just no way…. Looking up at Hobi, you hope this was another of his attempts to get you to talk to Jungkook, but there he stood, straight faced as ever.

“He’s—” your voice whimpers like a little kid, “He’s moving out?”  

“Ow!” Jungkook squirms, the feeling of your fingers pinching his arm hurting him, “What was that for?!” he yelps.

“For trying to move out without telling us! And don’t you dare ever pull something like that again,” you scold him, tempted to pinch him again.

Garnering a laugh out of him, you cross your arms like a kid and huff a loud breath of air, “Ah I won’t, I won’t,” he giggles, “Maybe…” he mumbles, but he’s quick to raise his arms in defense once he sees you ready to pinch him once again, “I’m just kidding,” he sings and you roll your eyes.

“Serves you right,” you mutter, letting out the hurt you felt that day to him because honestly, you had never gotten the opportunity to do so…

September 2019.

“Jungkook is moving out. Jungkook is moving out. Jungkook is moving out,” you think to yourself, having to come to terms with the fact that in exactly 48 hours from now Jungkook was officially going to be out of your life … for good.  

You were shocked to say the least, when you saw the application letter, not exactly sure about what you felt. You mean, yeah you were definitely mad at Jungkook, but enough to the point where you wanted him officially out of your life? Hell no.

So then where the hell did he even get the idea to move out? It wasn’t like you two were being mean to each other, nor was there blatant hatred being shown on your part. All you two were doing were ignoring each other like two little kids. That should not be cause for someone to move out. Not at all!

A knock on the door catches your attention, “You ready?” Hobi asks, dressed in business like attire. His all black suit made him seem almost intimidating, that was until your eyes landed on his newly dyed cherry-red hair only causing you to stifle a small laugh.

Nodding your head, you look at yourself in the mirror one last time. Tonight was the night of the art exhibition, and you were very very nervous. You had turned in your piece a couple of days prior, but to have to later unveil it in front of everyone along with giving a small speech was nerve wracking. Especially considering you hadn’t involved yourself in the world of the arts for several years now, if anything you were used to constantly talking about accounting numbers and different business statistics.

“It’s either now or never,” you whisper to yourself, not knowing what awaited you.

“I just don’t get it Hobi,” you rant in the car, on your way to the galleria’s location, “he didn’t see me trying to move out when he was being nothing but a complete dick to me those first couple of months!” you pout, still not having accepted that Jungkook was moving out, despite constantly reminding yourself that he was.

Hobi sighs, feeling as if he’s heard you rant about this since you’ve found out … oh wait … you have! “Y/N—” he begins.

“No listen to me Hobi!” you interrupt, “Can he really not stand the sight of me that he feels the need to move out?? Was me going into his room really that big of an issue,” your voice wavers a bit, but you continue nonetheless, “And the fact that he hasn’t even bothered to tell you! So what? He was just planning on disappearing this coming Monday! Thinking no questions were going to be raised? I mean imagine you hadn’t seen that letter, he would’ve left thinking I hate him!” And to that Hobi lets out a scoff.

“What do you mean?” he scrunches his face, “He still is!” Hobi raises his finger before you could talk, “My turn,” he firmly states, only causing you to drop your defensive shoulders and roll your eyes.

“You two have not talked at all since your stupid little argument where clearly both of you were in the wrong!” he rants, repeating what he’s been saying for the last two months, the topic becoming tiresome, “And now one of you is leaving because neither of you can get over yourselves and just initiate some kind of freaking conversation! Just one conversation and I am one hundred percent sure everything will get cleared up and we can all go back to our daily lives, but nooooo both of you think we’re in some freaking K-drama, actually no, even K-dramas make up faster than the two of you!” he ends his rant on an insult, and you’re left there momentarily speechless.

“You are so—”

“I’m what?” Hobi glares at you, and you only narrow your eyes at him in return.

“You are so wrong,” you state, refusing to now look at him, instead looking out the window.

“I’m right and you know it,” you mumble something under your breath in response, “You invaded his privacy after he repeatedly told you not to, but for some reason you just felt the impulsive need to go into his room and find out what he was hiding. You know, I’m sorry Y/N but if Jungkook’s the biggest dickhead in existence then you my friend are the pushiest one,” he complains, finding his grip on the steering wheel becoming tighter. God, did the two of you get his blood pressure boiling up.

“You don’t get it, I had to go into his room,” you mutter, not exactly happy with the fact that Hobi is reading you for filth.

“No you didn't,” the two of you begin to go back and forth, voice raising with every sentence.

“Yes, I did.”

“No you did not.”

“Um yes—”

“Um n—”

“Yes, how else was I going to be able to find out what was hurting him?” you interrupt, turning to face Hobi, feeling the migraine in your head about to pop.

“And why would you need to know that?”

“Because I lo—” you quickly catch yourself before you could complete the sentence, crossing your arms and pouting. Like hell you’d confess in front of Hobi.

Hobi looks at you knowingly, “Because you what,” he taunts, knowing exactly what you were going to say,

“Just drive,” you mumble, your attention back to the window beside you, focusing on the view of the city streets.

“Ah Y/N, there you are!” Jimin greets you and Hobi, having barely walked in from your argumentative car ride, “You’re on in like ten minutes,” he nervously chuckles, worrying only minutes ago that you were going to be a no-show.

“That quick?” you ask in complete shock, barely having taken off your dress-coat. The churns in your stomach begin to make you feel physically sick and there’s now a certain dryness to your throat that you could only accredit to the tension you were now feeling. Your palms were even beginning to get a little sweaty. Why were you doing this again? Oh yeah … Jungkook.

“Come on let’s go and get you set up,” Jimin tugs at your hand, pulling you to follow him. With your other hand, you attempt to look for your flash cards, wanting to remind yourself of the specific points you needed to cover.

“What the—” your heart drops, unable to feel the flimsy piece of paper anywhere near the coat that hung against your arm, “Oh no,” you murmur to yourself, not wanting to panic Jimin, “No, no, no,” you repeat to yourself.

“Okay here we are,” he stops you two in front of your draped-covered painting, pulling out a lapel mic from his pocket, clipping it onto the collar of your outfit. Now that you weren’t moving, you were now barely taking note of just how many people filled the galleria, and it was a lot. There had to be at least 200 people, minimum. Each and every one of them slowly looking around at the already unveiled art pieces, their eyes doing the judging for them.

“Jimin I don’t know—”

“Hey, you’re gonna do just fine, it’s just a bit of stage fright I’m sure,” he reassures, and though you appreciate the gesture, coming from him it just didn’t mean much. You see, Jimin has always been what's called an optimistic person, similar to you in a way. Always trying to find the good in the bad. But in order for his words to really have some effect, it would’ve been better if he was a pessimist, someone who always saw the negative in everything because then to hear that you would do just fine would come more as a shock rather than as something expected, someone like—

You shake your head,“I’m just,” your outfit suddenly begins to feel as if it's squeezing the life out of you, “I’m really nervous,” you whisper to him out of breath, watching as people begin to crowd around your area. Were the walls closing in or was it just you?

He begins to test the mic, “Jimin—” you repeat his name, a cry for help, “I can’t—” but it’s too late.

“Hello everyone,” he speaks into his own microphone, and you scan the audience to see if you can spot Hobi. When you do, you notice the look of panic he has on his own face, probably aware of your distressed state, knowing that there was nothing he could do about it, “This artist I’m introducing to you, has been a personal friend of mine for years. I’ve known her since my first year in college, and I can vouch for just how talented she is,” Jimin glances at you, unaware of just how truly panicked you were, “So without further ado, y/n take it away,” he steps away, leaving you under the sole spotlight.

Remaining silent for a moment, you stare at the several pairs of eyes that had their gaze solely focused on you. “H-Hello,” you stutter into the mic, glad that it wasn’t a handheld one as you were sure that you would’ve been a jittering mess, “Um my name is y/n l/n,” you nervously smile, trying to find something to focus your attention on. Originally you planned on staring at Hobi the whole time, only to find out it made you even more of a stuttering mess. God, was it getting hot in here.

“So um I think we should um reveal the painting first,” you sputter out, signalling to Jimin that it was time. Slowly he removes the drape, the sound of clapping providing you a bit of a soothing effect. People liked it. People freaking liked it. It felt as if a brick or two had been dropped from your shoulders.

You gulp continuing with your speech, “So I um—” breathe y/n, “I call this piece safety net,” you turn sideways towards the painting, ready to explain, “I call it that because as y-you can see in the painting,” you mindlessly point to it as if the audience couldn’t see it themselves, “There’s the um the figure falling into what I call a safety net of flowers and—” you stare at the painting along with them, finding yourself getting lost in your own work, “well I painted this after—” you pause, the room completely silent, “after finding myself wanting to be someone’s safety net,” you mumble to yourself, a certain person coming to mind.

There’s an awkwardness to the room, the kind of stiffness you only find in tense moments. You weren’t sure if it was because the audience was trying to be respectful or you were just making a complete mess out of yourself, but either way Jimin awkwardly coughs, “So um we will now take questions from the audience,” Jimin hesitantly says, by now noticing the extremely panicked state you were in, but unsure of what to do.

A woman raises her hand, a volunteer for the galleria handing her a mic, “Hello,” she politely greets, giving you a warm smile, “So I was curious as to why you chose two colors that don’t conventionally go well together, I was wondering if you did that on purpose or…” and though you know her question means no harm, the voice in your head was convincing you that this was some kind of an attack.

“I um—” your breathing becomes heavier, “I—” Just speak, you keep telling yourself. Tell her that you chose two colors because they represented two different personalities. Say something you freaking idiot. “I um c-chose—” you begin to hear the sound of people murmuring all around you, their voices echoing loudly through your head. What were they saying? Did they hate your painting? Did they think it made absolutely no sense? Was it really that bad? What were you thinking when agreeing to do all this? How could you have been convinced to do this? You didn’t paint anymore for this exact reason.

With every thought that races through your mind, the sudden sense of impending doom only becomes stronger and your rapid breathing becomes louder. You had to be sweating because God did it feel like a fucking sauna in here. The tightness in your throat wasn’t helping at all as well only making the feeling of nausea further overwhelming. You needed to get out of here. Now.  

And so without thinking… you run.

You yank out the mic and begin to run to God knows where, ignoring the shouts of your name along with the small number of gasps that could be heard.You needed to breathe again, and you desperately needed this feeling of danger to be gone.

Trying not to bump into too many people walking the dark city streets of Seoul, focusing on the sound of your heels clicking against the pavement, tuning out everything around you. “Just run,” you tell yourself, “Run until no one can find you.”

Soon the sound of your heels clacking against the pavement becoming the sound of your heels crunching against leaves. The pitch blackness of your surroundings causes tears to begin to well up, the trembling of your fingers along with the chills running down your spine making you feel as if you were running in an endless loop. Stop. Stop. Stop.

You come to sudden halt, pushing your arm against a nearby tree, desperately trying to catch your breath. You were alone now, isn’t this what you wanted? So then why did you still feel as if the world was crashing down on you. Why couldn’t you breathe? Why were hot tears spilling from your eyes? What the hell was wrong with you?

By now your sobs are in full force, your heaving chest only adding to its force. Because of your crying, you fail to hear a voice, “There you are!” Jungkook catches his breath, surprised at how fast you could run in heels. For a small second he thought he had lost you in the chase, with the way you maneuvered around everyone, he was thankful he hadn’t.

“Y/N,” he calls out, expecting you to turn, but he’s met with silence. You were having a panic attack, a bad one at that. Making his way closer to you, he’s careful in how he approaches you, grabbing your hand before you could run any further, “Y/N,” he repeats, this time turning you to face him, but you continue to cry in hysteria, your vision blurred by just how fast tears were falling from your eyes.

“Hey, hey, hey, look at me y/n,” he cups your face with his hands, a worrisome but firm look on his face, “I need you to breathe with me, okay?” your chest continues to heave, the rapid breaths of air coming from your mouth at an alarming rate, “Y/N!” he shouts, causing you to go silent, “Y/N…” he softly repeats, knowing he’s gotten your attention. You stare at him in silence, “One,” he inhales a big breath of air, “Two,” he exhales out, “Inhale,” he repeats his actions again, “Exhale,” he breathes out.

Slowly you begin to follow. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

In no time, your heartbeat begins to slow down, your mind focused enough on the task at hand that you begin to forget why you were ever panicked to begin with. “Hey,” Jungkook whispers, caressing your cheek with his hand, “You’re doing great,” he reassures you, providing you the words of comfort you so desperately needed to hear right now.

It had been so long since you’d gone through having a panic attack, almost forgetting just how bad they could sometimes get. But for now staring into Jungkook’s eyes and practicing some breathing exercises was enough to remember that no matter how bad they got, you’d get through them.

His fingers gently graze your cheeks, continuing to mumble small phrases of reassurance while you were getting control of yourself.  “Has anyone ever told you,” you place a finger to the corner of his eye, quietly breathing your words out, “you have very round eyes,” you say and Jungkook lets a huffed laugh out in response.

He scrunches his nose and smiles, “Yeah, a lot of people have actually,” he laughs, a toothy grin spreading across his face while he uncups your cheeks, feeling a sense of tranquility wash over him as he knew you were going to be just fine, “I’ve been told they look like a doe’s eyes,” you quietly nod your head yes, agreeing with his statement, a warm smile on your face.

“Come on,” he intertwines your fingers, gently pulling you to follow him and leading you to a park bench that was near. But the thing was, it wasn’t just any park bench, it was the park bench from the night Jungkook was drunk and the two of you had gotten into the fight with that drunk man. What were the odds? You hadn’t even noticed that you ran this far till now...  

He exhales a large breath of air once you two sit, allowing a neither comfortable nor awkward silence fill the air. Despite the heartwarming moment that happened only minutes ago, there were still things that needed to be talked about. Things that simply couldn’t be forgotten. It was the sole reason he had gone to the art exhibition because he wanted, no, he needed to talk to you.

He just hadn’t expected to see you running out in complete panic right as he walked in. The tears that were slowly rolling down from your eyes, causing him to feel a sudden sense of heartbreak. For the only reason you’d ever cry would be if your hard work were to be destroyed, whether physically or emotionally. It was the same despaired look you had given him that fateful day he decided to throw everything good that was becoming of his life out the window.

And so to see the scene in front of him play out had definitely caused both a mix of anger and sadness to boil within him. His urge to defend and protect you, almost overcoming his need to go out and make sure you were okay. That was until he found himself running out the door, signalling to Hobi that he’d handle it.

And so now here the two of you were, quietly sitting on a park bench with your hands being the only things physically touching, a comfort of its own for the both of you. It didn’t feel weird nor did it feel wrong because if anything it just felt right.

A part of you thinks and hopes it could remain like this forever, scared that if it didn't, you’d have to return back to the world where you and Jungkook were nothing more than strangers who were once friends. The world where acting as if one or the other didn’t exist was completely normal. The one where you’d find your heart selfishly longing for him despite stubbornly not wanting to. And so whether it be for a small second, a minute, or an hour, for now at least you just wanted to savor the moment because who knew what would possibly happen if he decided to leave and never come back.

“Y/N…” he begins.

“Shh,” you whisper, your puffy eyes softly gazing at the view of the trees in front of you, the silhouettes of trees as well sound of the wind softly pushing against the branches, a view you were once so scared of, not so scary anymore, “Just one more second,” you close your eyes, taking in one final breath of air. Jungkook feels his heart swell at the sight, remembering the scene from only months ago where it had been you doing all the staring. You pull his hand when you’re ready, your soft gaze now directed towards him.

“I just—” he begins to stutter, “I wanted to—” he feels his eyes get watery, the rush of emotion he was beginning to feel almost overwhelming him, “I wanted to say I’m sorry,” his voice slightly cracks, “for everything,” he whispers, allowing a tear to fall from his eye, feeling the weight he had been holding onto his shoulders now falling. The small leaks of vulnerability that you had occasionally seen now completely flooding through his walls of defense, that single tear becoming several, until soon you hear a sob emit from his mouth, but by then you have him wrapped in a hug, the sound of his sobs being muffled by your shoulder. Slowly you caress his hair, gently stroking and twirling the locks of his wavy hair in between your fingers, deciding that this time around silence was the best way to go.

“I’m so sorry,” he hysterically cries, holding onto you tighter, as if you’d go anywhere. He begins to shake his head, struggling to find the words that’d best describe how he felt at this current moment, “I’m—”

“Hey, hey, hey,” it’s your turn to say the words, gently pushing him off you so he could meet your gaze, “I know,” you reassure, “and I forgive you. The same way I’m sure you’ve forgiven me for snooping around your room like that,” you jokingly assume, and he smiles despite having red bloodshot eyes, “We were angry, and we said and did things that we shouldn't had but that doesn’t mean we have to hold them over our own heads for the rest of our lives,” you grip his hand tighter, “you made a mistake, and I made one as well. And rather than explode on one another and ignore each other, we should’ve talked about where we went wrong, and yeah,” you repeat your words from months ago, “maybe we didn’t get to do this as early as we hoped, in fact we’re quite late,” you giggle, “but we’re here nonetheless. And so let’s talk,” you say, ready to listen to the boy you had fallen in love with.  

Jungkook stares at you in silence, a million thoughts racing through his mind, wondering how you always knew exactly what to say at the exact moment, “I,” he hesitates before continuing, “I need to start from the beginning,” he says, wiping any residue from the tears in his eyes, ready to open up the book he had kept closed for so long.

You nod to him, signalling that you were listening, “When I was a kid, I um,” he gulps, “I guess you could say I had a knack for boxing. Originally, my dad had taught me as a way to protect myself if I ever came across a situation that’d require me to defend myself,” his fingers begin to fidget within yours, a sign that he was nervous. Quick to soothe him, you rub small circles on the palms of his hands, his gaze occasionally avoiding eye contact.

“But I also think it was because my dad, who once wanted to be a boxer himself, saw me a way to vicariously live out his dream. Because soon he noticed that the knack I had for it was more of a talent,” a small smile appears on his lips, “and well by then he had begun to seriously train me… I remember always coming back after school and dulging right into practice, waking up on weekends and running laps at the park with my dad in order to gain stamina, and just,” he exhales a breath, “and just thinking to myself how proud I wanted to make him,” uncontrollably a tear falls from his face once again, and he tries to gain his composure before continuing, not wanting to begin the sob fest too early, “Once he thought I was ready, my dad had begun to sign me up for amatuer competitions, and well I did amazing,” Jungkook laughs.

“And soon boxing would become the sport I’d find myself building my life upon, but one day—“ he sighs, knowing the conclusion to his own story and well this was only the beginning, “one day during high school we had this um career day I guess you could call it, and well long story short after going around and listening to how passionate some of spokespersons were of their careers, I remember thinking, is boxing something I was doing for myself or for my father?”

A sad smile appears on his face, “I think the most confusing part for me was that I wasn't exactly passionate about anything else but I also just knew deep down in my heart that boxing wasn’t for me, you know? To this day I don’t know what exactly it is I'm passionate for,” he laughs, “and I certainly don’t see myself making coffee and flipping pancakes for the rest of my life,” he jokes around, an attempt the make the atmosphere a little lighter, “but I think with the help of someone I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s okay to be a bit of a late bloomer,” he winks at you, “one day I’ll wake up and just know…”

You give him a small reassuring smile, happy to know that he’s learned his own lessons along the way, even if it required a bit of pushing.

”But back to my story,” he awkwardly laughs, the small feign of happiness gone, “Though I had realized it already… maybe it was because I was scared, or maybe it was just—” he shakes his head, unable to find the words, “I just,” he sighs, “I just couldn’t tell my dad because for me telling my dad would feel as if I was telling him that all the years of hard work were going down the drain. That the endless nights of working out and exhausting ourselves to sleep were all for nothing. And so when my dad told me that managed to get me a spot at some training camp in the states, I took it. I mean it wasn’t like I had anything going for me here in Korea, and well I needed to guarantee my own future,” he shifts uncomfortably, remembering everything a little too vividly.

“I did pretty well for a couple years, slowly began climbing the ranks, and the natural talent I had for the sport was beginning to really shape itself, even catching the attention of prominent sport reporters. Long story short, I’d find myself surrounded with nothing but yes men and leeches who wanted nothing more than a piece of my so called success,” he gazes off to the distance, ashamed of the ego that had been built as a result of such people, “and well when you get told that you’re the best, that no one can stop you, that you’re untouchable, you truly begin to believe it,” he lets out a chuckle, “so when Brandon Star, a man who was nearly out of my weight class, began to provoke me for a fight on television after winning some match and I kept hearing from my so called friends that it’d be an easy match or that it was a guaranteed win, how could I say no? Of course at the time I didn’t know that they would be betting against me… so I said yes.”

A momentary silence fills the air as Jungkook had never told this whole story to anyone, the revealing of everything somewhat freeing for him, “A part of me knew I was way in over my head, it was like a gut feeling, you know? But I needed someone, anyone, to tell me the truth and to confirm what I was thinking. I needed someone who was going to criticize me instead of nodding their head yes and pretending that everything was going to be just fine. I think that’s why when I first met you, you reminded me so much of the people who were around me in the states, faking a smile in order to spare my feelings.” Sadness clouds his features, ashamed of how he took everything out on you when all you were doing was simply being the person you always were... kind. For that, he was truly sorry.

“Anyways,” he continues, “that night of the fight, the feeling I had in my stomach was overwhelming. I told my dad, who was helping prep me backstage like he always did, that I felt nervous. That I was scared,” his voice cracks and he closes his eyes, remembering the scene as if it was yesterday, “and my dad well...he’s always struggled with separating being a father and being a trainer,” Jungkook tries to contain the sob that’s begging to come out, “but at that moment I just needed my dad. I needed him to tell me that win or lose everything was going to be fine. That he’d be proud of me no matter what,” he finally cries, and as you’re about to pull him into another hug, he vigorously shakes his head, stopping you from doing so.

“No, I need to finish thi—”

“Jungkook,” you softly interrupt because it wasn’t that you didn’t want to hear anymore, you just weren’t sure if you could hear anymore without at some point sobbing yourself,  “you don’t need to, especially if you’re not ready,” you stare at him with a sad look on your face.

“No, you deserve to know,” he firmly states, “you deserve to know,” he quietly repeats to himself. You nod your head in understanding, waiting for him to continue as he wipes away his tears with the sleeve of his shirt, composing himself.

“He told me that I’d do just fine, that the son he’s trained so long for wouldn’t fail him now,” he mumbles, the words of his father still echoing in his mind, “When you go and box, you’re supposed to enter that ring with no concerns of the real world, you’re supposed to put any negative or anxious thoughts you had outside the ring to rest. Because the moment you let just one of those thoughts seep through, you might as well hang up your gloves right then and there,” his expression hardens, “I went into that ring knowing I was going to lose…”

“From there I don’t remember too much,” he bitterly lets out a laugh, “I just remember being on a gurney and feeling the heaviness of Star’s punches beginning to weigh down on my chest, clearly having done some damage to my ribs,” he sighs, “but the moment I remember so clearly is my parents trying to make their way to me, doing their best to push their way in an effort to see me. I don’t know if it was because I was just so mad at myself,” his voice shakes, “or because I confused the look of sadness on my dad’s face with disappointment, but at the time—“ his voice falters again, “At the time I thought how ashamed he must’ve been of me,” he fights through his tears, trudging through the story, “And so as I was being lifted into the truck, I kept yelling how this was his fault, that it weren’t for him I wouldn’t be in this position,” Jungkook lifts his head up, combing a hand through his hair.

“When I got to the hospital, I refused to let my parents see me, I was just too—“ God, did he sometimes wish he could go back in time and change everything, “I was too stubborn, too ashamed with myself to even look at them. So I ran,” he says, catching you by surprise, “I needed time alone so I ran,” he repeats, “I ran before they could find me, I just got up and ran,” there’s a haunting emptiness that lingers in his voice, one that brings chills down your spine.

“I called Hobi, and I told him that I needed to redeem a favor,” your mind flashes back to the night Hobi told you what he knew, “And I thought this is what I needed. That I’d be okay with starting anew, and that if I could firmly plant my feet in Seoul then I could visit my parents in Busan, and tell them how sorry I was without them having to worry too much about what the future would hold for me… and explain to them what happened, what I felt, and why I ran. That was my plan,” his voice cracks, “I was reaching a point in my life where I felt so content, so happy. I’d wake up to see you and Hobi making breakfast while imitating some random girl group dance and think to myself how things had managed to turn out so well for me despite my failure in the states. Or when we binged on One Piece episodes that whole night while stuffing our faces in tubed ice cream and I just felt like a little kid again without a worry in the world. But then …”  

Jungkook feels the heavy feeling in his chest grow, “He passed away,” and just like that Jungkook feels as if the air has come out of his lungs, the same way it did the night he found out.

You feel your heart break at his words, recognition dawning over your face as everything was beginning to make sense. “My mom had managed to find my number in order to tell me there’d been an accident, and I just couldn’t believe it at first,” he attempts to hide his grief by stifling a sob, “I didn’t want to get up from bed at first because getting up would mean facing reality, it’d mean accepting that it wasn’t some kind of twisted fucked up nightmare but that it was real. That the last sight my dad saw of me was on some gurney,” his face twists, “that the last words I ever said to him were so—“ he breaks down, sobbing once again and this time you feel your own hot salty tears fall from your eyes, wrapping in such a tight hug that you weren’t sure if it was for his or your own sake.

He cries a sound so raw that it was almost as if the wound was still freshly cut, his hand clasping tightly onto your clothing for support. Any last defensive wall he had up was washed away by his salty tears, finally facing the final waves of grief, loss, and devastation in the arms of the person he had taken everything out on. The person he didn’t deserve at all, but had stayed nonetheless. You whisper sweet comforting words to his ear, wanting more than his grief to subside so that you could see the smile you loved so much appear on his face again.

“I just wish there was something I could’ve done differently,” he shakes his head, “so that he could know just how much his son loved and appreciated him,” he lifts his head up from your shoulder, wiping his tears away, and practicing his breathing as his chest had been heaving so bad because of his sobs, “And so that was why I completely changed that June and became cold. That was why I got so mad when I saw you in my room with the broken trophy I had gotten when I was a kid because I was just so reminded of everything,” he frowns, “and it had hit me like a freaking truck. To see my current world and the past one collide was just—“ he pauses, “overwhelming to say the least,” he concludes everything and you’re left there completely speechless.

You could’ve never in your wildest dreams even guessed that this was why Jungkook had come back to Seoul and why he had acted so cold for so long. His grievances had happened in such a short period of time, that all it took was one wrong move to set him completely off. No wonder he had kept himself so isolated … he knew he was ticking time bomb waiting to finally explode at any given moment.

The two of you stare at each other in silence, his words processing in both of your minds. You want to say the words that are currently repeating themselves in your mind, I love you. Three simple words that could make him forget his past, even if it was for a small moment in time. “Jungkook—” he looks up at you, “I—” you stutter, the words clinging onto the tip of your tongue, “I um,” you feel your chest become heavy as he stares at you in curiosity, “I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” you force out instead. He furrows his eyebrows, ready to protest against your apology, but you’re quick to interrupt before he gets the chance to.

“Since you’re being so honest with me, I feel like it’s only right I’m honest with you,” you bite your lip, disappointed with your cowardice, “So that like that we get a better understanding of one another,” you feign a smile.

“There’s a reason why I got so um…” you pause, “anxious before and during the galleria,” you narrow your eyes, it was now your turn to open a book that’d long been left incomplete. “I told you right? That I was an art student at Busan’s Art college but that I ended up transferring after an incident occurred…” He quietly nods, allowing you to continue, “and well I think I’m ready to talk about it,” you let out a breathy chuckle.

He stares at you in silence, ready to listen as well. “Growing up, I really liked painting,” you laugh, recalling the memory of you painting on the walls as a kid, “for some reason it was something I found myself falling further in love with every calendar year, but my parents, well they were on the more skeptical side of making a career out of it. I mean I don’t really blame them,” you sound unsure, “I mean I know that it’s hard these days to find success in the world of arts, or at least the level of success most people want to obtain but originally for me it didn’t matter,” you chuckle, remembering how naive you had been.

“Before entering college, I’d sell my little paintings and merchandise on those small-business centric websites like Etsy and stuff,” you say for example, “and you’re right, when you get told that you’re good at something, you really begin to believe it…”

Jungkook wants to interrupt and tell you that whatever your situation was, was much more different than his. That you were actually good at what you did, no, you were amazing at it. He wasn’t sure if he could listen to you talk down on yourself, but nonetheless he continues to listen.

“My first year of college I met people like Jimin who were so passionate about what they do that it really cemented the idea I had in wanting to turn my water painting into a career,” you sigh, “but in the back of my mind I always did have tiny doubts that lingered, and I always made sure not to feed them too much, but when you’re surrounded by people who are just as talented or even better than you, it gets hard not to.”

Jungkook completely understands where you’re coming from, having been in a similar position himself before. “And it didn’t help that my parents were constantly breathing down my neck about finding a different career to focus on,” you shrug “anyways,” you continue, shaking your head, “In Busan’s Art College, like many other colleges there are departments, like STEM and Business for example, but in this case things are separated by like dance, art, film, et cetera. And well if you can’t tell I’m a bit of a … pushy … person,” you laugh and Jungkook softly smiles, neither agreeing or disagreeing, “I think it’s due to me always feeling a need to overcompensate my insecurities, I guess. Like when you first moved in, in order to reassure myself that you didn’t hate me, the pushy side of me came out,” you explain, and the same way you began to understand Jungkook as he was explaining his story, Jungkook was beginning to understand you as a person.

“Well back to the focal point, I was a part of a committee club for painters within the art department, thinking that if I took charge of something, it’d increase my chances in succeeding in my career once I graduated. But the thing is, is when you join those committees I guess you could say there’s like a hierarchy of some sort, a cliché come to life,” you try your best to keep the conversation as lighthearted as you can, wanting the energy in the air to become one that was positive, a reflection of just how much you two had grown, “and well during my second year we were all assigned a project for some city poster in which we’d present to the committee’s leader, Nari, and where she and a couple of others would then choose which one was going to be used. And let me tell you, this was a career making project. The people who were going to be at the unveiling were names like Ji Hye Yeom, Haegue Yang, and more,” you sigh knowing you were coming to the rough part of the story.

“Nari had specifically told us that we were to only use materials she had chosen for us, and limited us to certain color schemes that in my opinion were the ugliest schemes I’d ever seen,” you scoff, “So me being the pushy person I am, I went ahead and continued with my original plan, which was making a watercolor painting because at the end of the day if my painting did happen to get chosen, I wanted it to be a genuine work of mine, not something that was limited by someone who was no more superior than me all because of some flimsy title,” you softly shake your head, “And so I poured my heart into it, working on it every chance I got during that school year in order to make sure that the committee would be so amazed , they’d have no choice but to choose it even if it didn’t exactly follow Nari’s regulations.”

A feigned smile graces onto your lips, refusing to cry at a situation from years ago, “I was so nervous that day to present it, but I was also so excited. Excited because I knew I created a piece that was so beautiful I—,” for a quick second your voice falters, but you’re quick to catch yourself, “I was just so sure they’d choose it,” you whisper, voice sounding frail and defeated.

“That day I presented it, I thought the silence that filled the room was because they were amazed,” you close your eyes for a moment, trying your best to push back any tears that wanted to make their way out, “God I still remember the extra specks of white and gold I added to it the night before, thinking those extra touches were really going to tip the scale in my favor,” you mumble, the embarrassment you felt that day coming back.

Jungkook feels his jaw harden, at this point an automatic response to the thought of your feelings being hurt. He didn’t know why, but to see someone as kind as you act out of character whether it be because you were mad or sad, always caused a heavy feeling in his chest. The only thing you deserved to feel was happiness and comfort, and though he wasn’t sure it was something, he, himself, could guarantee you … he’d be damned if he didn’t at least try.

“After what felt like 20 minutes, of complete silence she slowly got up in front of everyone,” you blankly stare at the trees in front of you, “I remember my heart beating out of my freaking chest for some reason, and the sweat beginning to form at my palms. And the moment she started speaking, I just went blank—” you turn to face Jungkook, who had a worrisome look on his face, “She started to berate me in front of everyone, insulting my hard work and telling me that even despite me breaking her guidelines, the painting still wasn’t any good,” you gulp, “But in fact, her words didn’t bother me at all,” you pause, “it was the comments from my supposed peers that really twisted the knife for me,” you scoff, “and then she did the unthinkable...”

Jungkook feels the heavy weight in his chest drop because he knows what you’re about to say. He knows what that woman did. And he knows why you were so hurt when he destroyed your painting, “She grabbed the canvas from the display board, and she ripped it,” you say, managing to muster up the smallest of smiles, but Jungkook knows that it's nothing more than a facade. An illusion so that he could think that you were no longer hurt by the actions of that woman.

“Once she did that, it just triggered everything else that followed after,” you furrow your brows, refusing to look at Jungkook, “I was being laughed at while having a panic attack,” you scoff, “I felt like I was in a scene from a high school movie,” you attempt to mask your hurt by making a joke.

“I ended up running out of the building, feeling as if my heart was going to explode from how fast it was pounding, and the compression in my throat was almost unbearable,” your voice cracks, “in just 20 minutes she took away any confidence I had in my artistic abilities, In just 20 minutes she made me question everything I knew about myself,” a tear finally falls from your eye, speaking the words you’d never said out loud before into the world.

“I attempted to stay at the school for a couple more weeks after that, but every time I picked up a paint brush, I just kept hearing her words along with the rest of my peers’ as well, second guessing every stroke I made on canvas. I had lost my spark,” you stifle a sob, “After that, I decided to transfer out and follow the plans’ my parents had always set out for me… and well, you know the rest,” you laugh in between your tears, wondering just how pitiful you must’ve looked. But soon enough you feel Jungkook's arms wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you into a hug so tight, you never wanted him to let go.

“Don’t leave,” you mumble into his chest.

Jungkook reassures you by cooing a small, “I won’t”, but gently you pull away once he does, holding onto his hand instead. A look of confusion washes over his face.

“No—” you shake your head, realizing he’s misunderstood, “I mean don’t leave our apartment,” you sniffle, giving him a small warm smile, leftover tears still brimming the corners of your eyes. His mouth gapes slightly open, taken back by your statement. He had completely forgotten that he was supposed to be moving out by Monday.

“We—” you shake your head, deciding that “we” wasn’t the right word in this case, “I need you,” you state, nothing but sincerity behind your words. Jungkook feels his heart skip a beat, the close-eyed soft smile that covers your face only making him smile in return.

He doesn’t need to say anything because you know … you know that he needs you just as much as you need him. You know that he’ll never leave your side from this day on because tonight was the start of a new chapter in your lives, one that included each other. Gently he pulls you into another hug, the warm fuzzy feeling in his chest being a feeling he could get used to.

“How did you even know where the venue was, or what the time the whole thing was?” you ask Jungkook, questions that hadn’t crossed your mind that day now forming.

“Hobi sent me a text that same night, very um … straightforward?” Jungkook chuckles, “It read, Art Exhibition. **** Namgang-Ro. 7:30 PM. Formal attire. You either go or you don’t. Up to you. Just don’t go crying later on that you regret not going. And well I had debated for several hours, originally chickening out and deciding to use me not having any formal suits as an excuse. That was until I walked into my room to find that Hobi had ironed one of his own for me to use,” Jungkook explains, “And well luckily I grew some balls and went and well now we’re here,” he smiles at you.

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t cut off too much of the story. We still have to remember all the good that came afterward,” you giggle, and he only flashes you an even bigger smile.

“Ah you’re right, you’re right. How could I forget?”

October 2019. 

“Happy Halloween!” you and Jungkook wave to the kid dressed as Iron Man, glancing at the clock which currently read 10:00PM. Mm you’d give it one more hour before permanently closing your doors and calling it a day even if Jungkook protested for more time.

“Happy Halloween!” you and Jungkook wave to the kid dressed as Iron Man, glancing at the clock which currently read 10:00PM. Mm you’d give it one more hour before permanently closing your doors and calling it a day even if Jungkook protested for more time.

You see, tonight was Halloween, and for the first time since you and Hobi moved to your guys’  apartment, you were giving out candy to the little kids of your apartment complex who usually went floor to floor trick or treating and it was all thanks to Jungkook. You were surprised really, you would’ve never taken Jungkook as being someone who was such a kid at heart.

After weeks of begging, he’d finally managed to convince you and Hobi to not only dress, but distribute candy. Usually you and Hobi would turn off all the lights and ignore the knocks you’d receive on the door, choosing to have a movie night than to participate in Halloween festivities.

Realistically speaking, you sorta expected Jungkook to go out and party tonight which is why when he notified you weeks prior that all of you were going to be participating in giving out candy, you couldn’t find it in you to say no. Hobi on the other hand required a lot of convincing and though he wasn’t exactly helping with the distribution of candy, watching him dressed as Batman while lazily sitting on the couch with a glass of wine in his hand was a gift in its own.

Jungkook, who desperately wanted to be a male version of Harley Quinn, had made you help him with cinching his crop top, exposing his toned lower abdomen every time he even stretched the slightest bit. It was…. quite a site … even causing several moms with their kids to “accidentally” stumble on your apartment floor again after only being there 10 minutes prior, your own little green monster finally making its appearance ….

But besides that, your favorite part of his whole costume was definitely the face/eye makeup he had done. The smoky blue and red along with the fake tatted heart under his left eye truly acting as the selling point of his costume. It just made him look very hot, more than usual. Hobi had even caught you staring at the boy on several occasions, teasingly nudging you whenever he did.

With Hobi dressed as Batman and Jungkook dressed as Harley Quinn, that of course only left you, who was currently dressed as none other than a female version of the Joker from Suicide Squad because despite how shitty the movie was, the style in which they made the Joker was still indeed very cool. Jungkook had even lent you his own natural artistic abilities to draw the tattoos where your dominant hand couldn’t firmly paint, laughing at the “twinsies” jokes you made in reference to his own tattoos. It had even given you the opportunity to ask him what each one of his own real tattoos meant to him.

Most of his tattoos, he explained, were done out of impulse. A majority of them being done in the states on a complete whim, but a couple of them held significant meaning to him. For example, his tattoo of a bandaged hand clearly represented his history with boxing. He explained that rather than get the overused boxing gloves as a tattoo, he’d get a simple bandaged hand done, deciding that it looked cooler and that you agreed with. Another example was the tattoo that translated to “Life Goes On” which was pretty self-explanatory, but meaningful nonetheless. Jungkook explained that it was one his favorite mottos growing up, and well recently it seemed to weave perfectly into his life.

But your favorite tattoo? The small One Piece manga strip he had across his left forearm. The story behind it almost caused you to shed a tear, had it not been for your white powdered makeup, you probably would've cried. You see, when Jungkook was a young boy he’d always watch One Piece as a distraction from boxing, falling in love with the story and its characters.

His dad, who’d always scold him whenever he caught him late at night watching the anime, never understood why Jungkook liked the show so much. It wasn’t until one night he somehow managed to convince his dad to watch the episode he was on, and despite not knowing anything about what was going on nor the characters’ names, his dad ended up loving the show just as much as him. The show had acted as a new bond between the two, from buying the latest manga volumes to staying up late at night to watch the newest episode. And well the strip on Jungkook’s arm was from the exact episode he had managed to convince his dad to watch with him that night. The tattoo serves as a representation of a memory he holds dearest to him, a memory of his dad.

“Ah I think that’s the last of it,” Jungkook looks into the last bag of candy he had bought, absolutely nothing left inside, “Wasn’t this fu—”

“Let’s go get a tattoo,” you interrupt, the idea coming to you out of nowhere. Jungkook tilts his head in confusion, eyebrows furrowing. A tattoo? You? Ms. I do not even have a dot of ink on my skin?

“A tattoo!?” Hobi turns from the TV, now having got his attention.

Both men stare at you in silence, thinking this was all some big joke until you begin to nod, reaffirming your choice, “Yes! All three of us! Matching roommate tattoos,” you smile, not exactly sure what had gotten into you, but surprisingly... completely okay with it.

Jungkook, noticing just how serious you were about this, begins to feel a smile form on his face. It wasn’t like he minded, he just wanted to make sure you weren’t going to regret it the next morning, “Y/N, you sure you one? I mean … you’re not someone I picture getting a tattoo, I mean think of your job,” he chuckles.

“Yeah, think of your job!” Hobi butts in, clearly not in favor of getting a tattoo.

Vigorously, you nod your head, “I’m one hundred percent sure,” you laugh, “I promise you, I won’t regret it,” you stick out your pinky finger, and Jungkook is quick to hug it with his own.

“W-What the?” Hobi stutters, unsure if it was the alcohol or shock in his system causing it. Probably both.

You turn to Hobi, “If you really don’t want it, then you don’t have to get it,” you shrug, “But at least come with us,” you smile, hoping that once you were there at the parlor shop you’d be able to convince him.

Sitting on the leather stool with your forearm displayed, the tattooist begins to prep your skin placing rubbing alcohol on the area in which you had chosen to get your tattoo. Now that you are here, you couldn’t lie, you were a bit nervous. But mostly because you were skeptical of the pain the needle would give you. 

Jungkook had described it as “a cat repeatedly scratching a sunburn”... as if you were supposed to know what that means. He also said that depending on your pain tolerance you’d either like the feeling, get used to it, or absolutely hate it. It just varied from person to person as well as the placement where you were choosing to get it.

Supposedly the inner wrist didn’t hurt, but with the sudden stinging sensation you were feeling, you were a bit unsure of that now.

“So is that your boyfriend out there?” the woman tattooing you suddenly asks, catching you completely by surprise. If she didn’t have a pricking needle against your skin , you probably would’ve jumped at the accusation.

Trying your best to keep your cool, you respond, “Oh um—” you shake your head, “No,” you awkwardly laugh, “I wish”, you think to yourself.

“Hmm,” she hums, the same smirk Jimin once gave you appearing on her face, “Sorta seemed like it out there, I mean I’m sure if he had the option he would’ve chosen to sit here right next to you and hold your hand,” she teases, and a blush appears on your cheeks.

“Oh that’s just how he is with everyone,” you reason, not wanting to feed into the delusions that Jungkook could possibly return any feelings for you, “He’s a very protective person, sometimes a little too much, but it has its benefits,” you joke around.

She shrugs, continuing to work on the small tattoo, “”Mm I don’t know, I mean the way with the way he looks at youuuu,” she sings, “because you clearly like him,” she laughs.

“No I don’t!” you pout, “We’re just close friends, that’s all….”

“Close friends don’t look at each other like that, and they’re certainly not as touchy as you two are,” she says, only causing you to scoff.

“You don’t know what you’re ta—”

“All done!” she smiles, wiping over the fresh new ink on your skin one last time, “Look how easy it was for me to get you to stop wincing so much,” she winks at you, and suddenly everything begins to make sense. She was trying to get you to relax. Was the topic she chose really the best one? No. But it worked didn’t it?

She places the plastic wrap over it, “So what do you think?” you stare at the new permanent piece of work on your skin, a small smile gracing your lips.

“Ah I—”

“Love it so much!” you flash Jungkook the two-month old ink on your skin, the digital numbers “00:00” acting as a permanent reminder of the day all three of you officially became roommates. It was small, yes, but to you it meant so much.

Jungkook pulls his own sleeve, showing you his own matching ink, “Zero o’ clock,” he hums, recalling a song he heard not too long ago on the radio.

“Ah too bad we couldn’t convince Hobi to get one,” you sigh, remembering how firm he was that night, “but we’ll get him next time,” you laugh.

Jungkook quirks his brow, “Next time?”

You nod your head, “I can see why people get addicted to these things,” you joke, “they’re like their own pieces of art,” you smile.

“Design mine next time,” he suddenly says, his statement coming off more as a command than a question. Turning to face him, you look for any small sign that he was joking.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Nope,” he pops the ‘p’, “I think a watercolor style painting would look amazing rightttt,” he points to the side of his ribcage, “here.”

Eyes widening in shock, you’re in complete disbelief, “You—you’re crazy!” you laugh, refusing to take him seriously.

“Ah I’m being serious Y/N,” he pouts, “Come on you know you want toooo,” he sings, softly nudging you.

You stare at him for a moment, “Are you sure?” you ask, skeptical about his seriousness.

He nods, “As sure as you were about getting that tattoo that night,” he teases, and you only roll your eyes in return.

“Mmm,” you hum, “I’ll think about it.”

“Think?! I’m your roommate!” he dramatically complains, throwing his head against your shoulder, suddenly in a clingy mood. Maybe the tattooist was right… maybe you two were a little too touchy….

You mean, just last month during friendsgiving, Hobi just had to complain in front of everyone claiming, “If you two don’t get your own room—”

“Then I think at some point this turkey is going to come back alive just to tell you two himself,” he slurs his words, wine glass in hand.

Drunk Yoongi tags in, “How do you know it’s a he?” he squints his eyes, gearing up for a debate.

Hobi rolls his eyes and makes a dismissive motion with his hand, “Not now Yoongi,” he says, causing everyone sitting at the table to laugh, and he turns his attention back to you and Jungkook, currently sitting next to each other, “Are you two going to continue playing footsies or are you finally going to—”

Seokjin interrupts by awkwardly coughing and tapping his champagne glass with his fork, getting up from his seat in the process, “I think it’s the perfect time to do our annual “What am I thankful for” toast, so I’ll begin,” he laughs, all eyes on him, “So um this year I am thankful for all of my friends who continuously stick by side throughout the years, and for the wonderful woman I’ve grown to love more and more every day,” he warmly smiles at his girlfriend, the two already seeming like a married couple despite having only met this year. Seokjin turns his attention to Yoongi, signalling that it was his turn.

He groans before getting up, peeved as to why Seokjin always insisted on doing these things, “Okay okay—”

“This is gonna take a while,” you whisper to Jungkook, Yoongi’s speech now fading into the background.

Jungkook quietly chuckles in response, “You think? How long do you think it’ll take before he starts with his  “back in my day” speech?” he jokes around.

Suddenly Yoongi’s voice becomes more audible, “Back in my day we didn’t use—”

You and Jungkook snortle a laugh, “Not long,” you respond, the two of you trying your best to keep your snickering at a low.

“So … got anything prepared?” he asks, this being his first year and all doing this kind of thing, he was a bit nervous as to what to say.

You shake your head, “Mm no, you just sorta say what’s on your mind? I guess?” you awkwardly laugh, “Trust me, as long as they have their bottles of soju next to them, whatever you say will go in one ear and out the other,” you reassure, remembering the first year you did this and gave a heartwarming speech, just for it to be ignored because Namjoon could’ve sworn he’d seen the “turkey move”. From there it led to an hour debate on whether a dead freaking turkey could still possibly be alive after having it in the oven for several hours.

He nods his head, noting what you’ve said.

After going around it was now the last toast of the night,“Ah and lastly onto our newest member in this friend group,” Namjoon, who had just finished his own speech, turns to Jungkook and pats his shoulder, “take it away,” he gives him a dimpled smile before sitting back in his seat.  

Jungkook awkwardly blinks at him for a moment, not getting up until you nudge him to do so. “Oh yeah…” he forces a laugh, “Um so where do I begin,” you almost feel second hand embarrassment, if you thought you weren’t any good under pressure, Jungkook might take the crown.

“So… The first thing I want to say I’m thankful for are the new friends I’ve made since coming to Seoul,” he spares a glance to the boys, “um..” he bites his lip, “The second thing or person may I say, that I want to thank is Hobi…” he smiles at the drunk man, “well for giving me a second chance per say,” he chuckles, “I know I don’t say it often, but I’m truly grateful for you picking up my call that night,” Hobi gives a small warm smile, “And well the last person I want really want to mention that I’m thankful for is … you,” Jungkook suddenly turns his attention down to you, catching you by surprise.

Raising your eyebrows, you wonder where this is coming from, “I um—” he feighs a small laugh, “I know I wasn’t exactly the nicest person when I first moved in, but—” he exhales a breath, “But you gave continuously gave me a chance to prove otherwise every single time until I finally got it right,” he smiles, “and well last year I had a pretty rough year,” he jokes around, “and honestly I thought coming in 2019 it’d be just bad, but you single handedly proved me wrong and made sure this was going to be a year for me to remember and well for that I’m forever grateful,” you silently blink away any tears, not wanting to get teased at for crying after this his speech was done. He breaks away the gaze he held on you in order to finish his speech off, “So with that I say … cheers everyone!”

Everyone raises their glasses of whatever it was they chose to drink, clinking it all in the middle and repeating “Cheers!” before gulping down whatever was left of their drinks. The rest of the night is filled with nothing but laughs and joy, as well as the remainder of the month, every single day creating a new memory for the three of you, until you were left with nothing but...

“The present day,” you whisper to yourself, unable to believe that the year had gone by so fast.

“What a year it’s been huh…” Jungkook softly smiles, glancing at the time on his phone which reads 11:50. 10 more minutes until the new year. 10 more minutes until zero’o clock.

“Yeah…” a comfortable silence fills the air around you, how had the hour gone by in the blink of an eye? You wonder if it’s the effect Jungkook just naturally has on people because never did you find time going by so fast unless you were with him.

“I—”

“So—”

Your cheeks become a tinge of pink , “Oh you go first—” he shakes his head.

“No, no, go ahead,” he laughs, insisting that you go instead.

This was the perfect chance, the chance to tell him about the feelings you’d grown to have for him in the past year. You just needed to grow the courage to say those three letter words that were itching to be said. It was either now or never.  

“I um, I just wanted to say thank you,” you chicken out once again, “I didn’t get the chance to say it on friendsgiving, but,” you gulp, “your speech it um meant a lot to me, and well I’m just as grateful for you,” you chuckle, “I think maybe even more.”

Had you noticed, you would’ve seen the slightly disappointed look on Jungkook’s face, “Oh..” he says, a small pout appearing on his face.

“What were you going to say?” you ask, faking the pep in your voice, ready to eternally scold yourself for being a chicken once you got back to the cabin.

He sighs, “It’s nothing really,” he shrugs, but you nudge his shoulder before he could divert the conversation elsewhere.

“Come on, just say it,” you tease, “because you either speak now or forever hold your piece,” you look at the time, “5 minutes till midnight.”

He stays silent for a moment, contemplating whether or not he should say what had been on his mind for quite some time, “I um—” fuck it, it was either now or never, “You know how I told you that I couldn’t sleep right? That it’s why I came out here…” you innocently nod your head as he continues, “well it’s cause I had already sorta been thinking about everything that’s happened this year…” he lets out a small chuckle.

“I mean isn’t it crazy?” he pushes his hair back with his hand, “Someone who was nothing more than a stranger before the clock hit twelve that night is now someone I can’t picture not being in my life,” you feel your heart flutter at his words, “And I mean to think we didn’t get along at first,” he lets out a breath of disbelief, “All because I was a person who was—” he pauses, unsure of how to describe himself from that time, “angry,” he decides to say, “I was an angry person who mad at the world,” he bites his lip in retribution for his attitude back then.

“No,” you laugh, shaking your head, “you were just someone who was… hurt. That’s all it was,” you say.

“You think?” you nod your head yes, “I never really thought about it like that,” he mumbles, “Would you do it all over again?” he suddenly asks, and you find yourself quirking your brow at his question, “Like if you had the chance would you do it all over again…” he further explains.

Without a second thought you say, “Yeah I would,” you giggle, “And you?”

He remains silent for a moment, pondering on his own question before nodding his head as well, “I wouldn’t mind doing it all over again because then I’d get to relive the process of falling in love with you all over again,” he finally says, “I’d get to pinpoint the exact moment this year that I fell in love with you.”

“In ten, nine, eight…” the families around you begin to shout the countdown, and all you can do is stare at Jungkook in disbelief of what you just heard come out of his mouth.

“Y-You love me?” you manage to stutter out, a smile now forming on your lips.

“Seven, six, five…..”

Silently, he nods his head, a loving smile on his face as he leans towards you, the flutter in your stomach only intensifying.

“Four, three, two, one….”

And as if time had stopped, his lips finally meet yours and the only thing you could feel were the placement of warm lips against yours, giving you a New Year’s kiss that would be remembered for years to come.

“Happy New Year!” the sound of fireworks popping are echoed in the background because the only thing you could focus on were the soft lips that were moving with yours. His fingers curl around yours, creating such an intimacy that you were sure you had to be dreaming. It wasn’t until you found yourself kissing him back that the reality of everything finally set in. Jungkook loved you.

Slowly he pulls away, savoring the kiss till its very last moment, “Happy New Years Y/N,” he whispers, a grin plastered on his face.

Laughing in return, you smile, “Happy New Years Jungkook.”

**

Once you and Jungkook returned to the cabin, you were met with several complaints from Hobi, “Finally! We’ve been freezing all night!” Hobi exclaimed the moment you two walked in, harshly grabbing the firewood from Jungkook’s hands. It wasn’t until he peeped your linked arms that everything began to make sense, “Ahhh,” he gives you two a toothy grin, “You guys, look who’ve finally confessed to one another,” he yells, catching the attention of everyone in the living room.

Suddenly the room is filled with several “finally’s” causing both of your mouths to slightly agape open. “What do you mean “finally” ?” you furrow your eyebrows, looking at Hobi for an explanation.

He scoffs, “Don’t act dense you two!” he laughs, “It was so obvious you two liked one another, you two were just too blind to see it yourselves,” he scolds both you and Jungkook by flicking your foreheads, “You just didn’t have to go confessing while all of us were freezing in here!”

Both you and Jungkook awkwardly laugh, a guilty look on one another’s face. “Well choo you two before I make you two clean everything up and babysit our friends!” Hobi makes a motion with his hands, and the two of you are quick to make your way upstairs into Jungkook’s room. Thankful that he didn’t punish the two of you.

Jungkook is quick to take off his puffy jacket, plopping himself onto the bed like a little kid, a loud breathy sigh following after. You stare at him for a moment, unsure of what to do, that is until you see him open his arms wide with a pout appearing on his face, “Come onnn,” he sings, “Let’s cuddle,” he shoots you a smile.

Playfully you roll your eyes before taking off your own jacket, plopping onto the spot next to him. Small feverish giggles escape your lips once he begins to give you tiny kisses all over, enveloping you in a hug so tight, it would’ve been impossible to ever doubt his feelings for you.

“Jungkook stop,” you laugh, the tickles he was now giving you making the sides of your stomach hurt, “Jung—” you attempt to push his hand away, face becoming red at just how much you were laughing, his own high-pitched laugh echoing across the walls of the room with you. From there he does a mixture of both tickling and kissing you, the two of you truly in your own world.

Soon though, your little game of tickles becomes a full on makeout session, not that you were complaining. Currently you lay under him with Jungkook leaning against you, using his arm that rested on the bed as support.

Slowly he slips his tongue into your mouth, gentle but demanding, nothing less than pure love behind the kiss. “Jungkooook,” you quietly whine once he begins to move onto your neck, every suckle lasting a little longer than the last. His hand interlocks with yours as he continues, you’re hand subconsciously playing with his hair from behind, making small twirls with the brown wavy locks of hair.

“I love youuu,” he cooes, a certain gleam to his eyes. Soon enough, his fingers were teasingly playing with the waistband of your leggings. And God, were you dripping. “Can I?” he innocently looks at you, licking his lips in the process. You’d be crazy to say no.

Nodding your head yes, he nudges your legs apart and begins to pull off the cotton fabric from your legs. You help him along the way, desperate to receive your own pleasure.

Teasingly, he swipes his index finger over the fabric of your underwear, continuing to pepper you with warm kisses on the underside of your jaw. The grip you had on his hair became tighter with every swipe, “Aren’t you wet?” he slyly chuckles, rubbing small circles with his placed finger.

“Stop teasing,” you whine, only causing him to muffle a laugh against your shoulder.

“I just wanna take my timeeeee,” he hums, placing a kiss to your cheek, “Can I take my time?” he pouts, only causing you to roll your eyes, agreeing nonetheless, “That’s my girl,” he whispers, pecking you on the lips before continuing, cupping your cheek with his … unoccupied … hand.

“God you’re beautiful,” he says staring at your pleasured expression, a result of the friction between his finger and your underwear becoming more intense.

“Jungkook,” your voice shakes, wanting needing him to do something before the muscles in your leg spasm any more.

“Shh shh not too loud,” he softly mumbles, because considering how drunk the boys’ were, any loud noise and you’d have someone idiotically stumbling into the room in order to find out whatever the noise was. Not wanting you to complain any more, he slips his finger under your underwear, pressing both his middle and index finger to the centerfold of your sex, “Look how wet you are,” he smirks, coaxing another moan from your lips.

Jungkook couldn’t lie, he’d envisioned this moment a couple of times before, but to have it becoming a reality was completely different than what he imagined. It was indeed better.

“I bet you’d love for me to take these off,” he teasingly pretends to pull down your panties, knowing exactly what he was doing.

“Please Jungkook,” you cry, how was it possible to already be on the verge of releasing when he hadn’t even done anything explicit yet? He begins to move his fingers up and down your clit, coating his fingers with your wetness, preparing to insert his fingers in your aching hole, “Please—” you attempt to whimper his name again, but his lips passionately kiss you before you get the chance to. It’s once he does that, that the energy in the room shifts, becoming one of playful teasingness to one of passion and love. It’s while he kisses you that he finally sinks his single finger into your pussy, your wetness helping him in gradually picking up the pace until soon enough he’s able to slip in another. Your moan being suppressed by the pressing of his lips against yours, softly nibbling on your lower lip.  

“So fucking tight,” he mutters, the squelching sounds coming from your pussy bringing him a sense of pleasure, “Can’t wait to make love to you,” he whispers watching as your eyes lazily roll back, the sight being one he’d remember for a very long time.

“J—Just like that Jungkook,” you manage to stutter out, your arousal dripping in and out of your pussy as he continues with his motions. By now you feel his hardened member kneading against panties, his self-restraint holding on by a string. God, did he wanna fuck your brains out already. Had you been some kind of one night stand and he probably would already be doing so, but you, well you were different. You were his. And he was going to make sure you knew it to.

With his other hand he begins to slide his way under your shirt, caressing your breasts while fingering you, “Take off the shirt,” he mumbles while planting kisses on your neck, and you’re quick to obey, pulling the shirt over your head and uncaringly throwing it onto the floor.

By now you were dressed in only your underwear and bra, which to you seemed a bit unfair and so purposely you begin to play with the hem of his shirt, in hopes that he’d get the message. When he doesn’t, you momentarily stop him from kissing you any further, mumbling a tiny, “Mm take off your shirt,” causing him to let out a breathy laugh. He does as told, exposing the toned torso you’d find yourself frequently gawking over for in the past year. Because truly, his body proportions were insane.

Gently pulling him from his hair, you deepen the kiss by running your other hand across his bare back, the warm skin to skin touch providing another level of intimacy. “Let me eat you out,” he murmurs against your lips, waiting for a simple three letter word so that he can finally pull off your panties.

Instead you give him a small “MmHm,” with a small nod which in this case would suffice as he was sure you were too lost in your own world of pleasure to properly respond. Delicately he removes your underwear, parting your legs in between before lowering his head.

Without saying a word, he runs his finger against your slit, licking and sucking on the fluid that dripped from his finger. What. A. Fucking. Tease. “Jungkooook,” you whine like a brat, the heat you felt below almost unbearable at this point.

“What a pretty pussy,” he rasps, gives your clit a gentle kiss before suckling against it, his saliva mixing with your fluids. Immediately you feel a wave of pure bliss, your fingers slightly trembling at just how good the sudden sensation felt.

“Oh God Jungkook,” you needily whisper once he slips his finger back inside, pushing it deep into your core all while eating you out. Your breathy moans along with the sound of your wet pussy being toyed around with, fill the room. With your eyes half-open, you manage to look down at the sight of Jungkook licking through your folds, his messy hair covering most of his face until you use your hand to push it back, wanting to savor the view in front of you.

“Just look at you,” he groans, admiring the view of your back arched along with your thighs which slightly quivered at the flicks of his tongue, “All fucking mine, you got that?” he asks.

When you don’t respond, he inserts a second finger, catching your attention.

“Yes!” you cry at the sudden jolt of pleasure, his fingers scissoring inside of you, “I’m all yours,” you answer and to that he smirks, curling his fingers inside you. His ego at a level unthinkable. From there he continues to suck and slurp any remnants of your wetness, ignoring your warnings that you were about to orgasm.

It isn’t until he feels a quick rougher than usual tug to the hair followed with a gentle release that he knows you’ve came. Only then does he stop, quickly making his way to sweetly kiss you as you ride through your orgasm. You barely manage to kiss him back, too overwhelmed by orgasm he just brought down on you.

He cups your face once again, making out with you once again even if you were lazily kissing him back, “Jungkook,” you croak out, “Make love to me,” you dazedly whisper, recalling his words from earlier, and without a single word he begins to kiss you again, this time even more passionately (if that was possible) your words triggering a certain fire within him. And despite being in a post-orgasm state, you kiss him with just as much passion as he is doing to you.

By now the two of your hands’ were entangled with each others’ hair, Jungkook roughly pressing his clothed erection against the barity of your pussy. Releasing one of his hands from his hair, he smoothly travels down your back, removing the clasp of your bra with his hand. Deciding not to question his skills, you help further remove it until you’re only left completely nude. Your tits now on full display for him.  

He soon begins to tenderly suck on your hardened nipples, one hand caressing the opposing tit whenever he was sucking on one, providing equal attention to both. You begin to play with the button of his black pants, desperately ready to have Jungkook completely inside you. Jungkook notices your lack of patience, deciding that just this time he’d give you what you want.

Pushing himself off you, he begins to unbutton his pants, your heart now beating out of excitement once you see the band of his black boxers. This was really happening. And though you’d seen Jungkook’s cock before, specifically with a woman having it wrapped inside her mouth, to see it this time around was definitely much more shocking than the first…. Was he always this big? The veins that run along his fair-colored cock only add to it’s intimidating appearance.

Pushing himself back on you, he sloppily kisses you all over, from your mouth to the side of your neck, slowly making his way downard. His cock teases the slit of your entrance, coaxing along the delicate folds of your pussy. Intertwining his hand with yours, he looks at you one last time, “You ready?” he breathes out.

Biting your lip, you slowly nod your head yes, his head then slowly pushing into your tight entrance, a groan coming from both of your lips, “God I fucking love you,” he breathily moans beside your ear.

“I love you too,” you whisper in return, his gaze never leaving yours as his cock tortuously enters you inch by inch, the grip you have on his hand tightening with every passing second, “Oh my god,” you whimper, his pre-cum along with your prior wetness making the push inside more bearable.  

It isn’t until you’re completely filled up by his cock that he slowly begins to move. Each and every deep thrust garnerning both whines and mewls from you, “Fuck,” he moans, his voice raspy from pleasurable sensation he was feeling. Somehow he manages to continue to plaster kisses all over you, his hands tightly wrapped around your waist as he continues to grind his hips against yours, making nothing but love to you.

Your hot walls now take him with ease, the small pressure you had originally felt having slowly faded away. He keeps his thrusts at a moderate pace, wanting to savor the moment.

“J—Jungkook,” you cry out, feeling your second orgasm coming as you wrap your legs around his waist. He begins to pick up his pace, “Faster,” you moan, remembering that he was definitely okay with having rough sex, considering how many times you’d have to hear other woman moan just how harder they wanted back in the beginning of last year. Who said he couldn’t do the same for you?

“Faster?” he questions, a certain spark now in his eye, “You sure?” eagerly you nod your head yes, too lost in the idea of your possible orgasm to think of the repercussions of your answer. Because soon you find yourself getting completely fucked out, the pace of his thrust becoming almost uncomparable to the pace he was going before, this time not caring at all for rhythm. By now you're sure that your different number of cries and moans could be heard from downstairs, but honestly you could give less of a fuck.

The sound of your skin slapping with his echo against the wooden walls, your eyes screwing shut as you felt your high come. His rapid thrust continuing as he fucks you into oblivion, “Just look at you, creaming on my fucking cock,” he groans, by now sweat was forming on the creases of his forehead, “and to think I get to have you like this all to myself, every single day,” he chuckles, the tight feeling in his abdomen signalling to him that his own release was coming.

“Cum in me Jungkook,” you whine, and with that he does, his white milky cum coating your walls from the inside and out. He admires the view in front of him, the sight of you completely fucked out with his cum dripping from the entrance of your pussy, wondering how he got so lucky.

Out of breath, the two of you cuddle with one another, your eyes half closed, ready to knock out at any moment. But before you do, Jungkook peppers one last kiss onto your cheek, mumbling a final “I love you,” ready for the new memories this year would bring for the two of you.

a/n : ahhhhhh! finally finished with my finals so i was able to finally get this done! for some reason i sorta got attached to this couple, i think it’s because we got to see literally every month of their forming relationship so i just ended up really loving the dynamic between the two lmao. butttt all stories must come to an end :( and i’m very happy with how this story came out, but who knows maybe we’ll this couple again in the future. anywayssss like, reblog, comment, message me an anon or even directly! anything is appreciated (I swear im not a mean person) and ill see yall next time! 💞 

mini taglist: @ggukkieland​ @unicornbabylover​ 

#btswriterscollective #btswritingcafe #ficswithluv #bts fic #bts angst #bts smut #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook/reader #jungkook x reader #bangtan fanfic #jungkook two shot #jungkook one shot #jungkook complete fanfic #jungkook complete fic #safety net #Jeon Jungkook fanfic #Jeon Jungkook fanfiction #jeongguk fic #jeon jungkook #Jeongguk fanfic #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff

[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

Wrong Number, Asshole - A Bakugou Katsuki Soulmate AU

All Parts

Part 19:

You stared helplessly at your phone.

He still hadn’t answered you or even read the texts you’d sent him- it had been over a week since you sent the last two.

Bakugou told you that he’d be away. That he wouldn’t be at his phone, but that was almost two entire weeks ago, and nobody would be without a phone for that long. You knew something was wrong. Could feel the incorrectness and hollowness in your soul- in that same part of your heart that had suddenly been filled since you met him. 

You sent him another text, fueled by nothing but desperation. 

Another few days went by. Nothing. Radio silence, and unread texts, and a heart that felt heavier with each passing moment.

That wrongness that you felt seemed to multiply by the minute, your skin seeming to itch and feel too tight and too lose all at once. You felt helpless. There was nothing you could do, no where you could look, nobody you could tell. 

All you knew was a last name- a last name that was common. A last name that was shared by 1000s of people all across Japan, and a last name that was shrouded entirely by a pro-hero who was everywhere you looked. 

You’d already tried searching, desperately typing in that last name, but the only thing you could ever pull up was articles about Bakugou Katsuki. Dynamite. Pro-hero highlights and various smear pieces were all you could find under that last name. It was just picture after picture of a blonde head of hair and a scowling face that wasn’t your soulmate’s. Explosions and ash and burning debris and villains and heroes and- you resented Dynamite. He was the reason you couldn’t reach your Bakugou. 

There was nothing you could do. Absolutely nothing, and it nearly killed you.

You threw your phone away in frustration, crushed by another search that yielded nothing but Dynamite. 

You wanted to cry, wanted to yell, wanted to scream until your throat tore for all the things being stolen from you. If he wasn’t okay, if he wasn’t still able to be there for you, all of your childhood dreams were over. There would be no happy ending for you, no fairy-tale love, no perfect puzzle pieces finally slotting together. There would just be you. You and your one-half of a soul and one-half of a name and a potential funeral you couldn’t even go to because you didn’t know who he was or where he lived or how to reach him past a phone. All you had was his voice, all you got to have was his voice and his jokes and a siew of nicknames and texts and it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough because it was bits of him; little, tiny, miniscule pieces of someone that was supposed to be yours but apparently wasn’t. Instead of him, it was just you- alone and waiting and etched with a ugly tattoo you should’ve never expected to guarantee forever. 

You didn’t want to think about it- didn’t even want to entertain the idea of him not being okay- but at this point it felt like you had no other choice. Bakugou didn’t seem like the type to just disappear- had proven time after time to you that he wasn’t. Something was wrong. Horribly, terribly, catastrophically wrong and you just knew it. Could feel it settling in your bones like a poison.

You fell onto your bed, peeling back the covers and collapsing onto your pillow. You couldn’t remember falling asleep. Couldn’t even be sure when you stopped crying. 

--/--

You suddenly jolted awake- fingers scrambling to find your ringing phone.

Bakugou :)) - Incoming Call 1:07 AM

You felt like you couldn’t breathe- like there wasn’t enough air in the world to make your lungs work. With shaking fingers, you accepted the call. 

“Hey, idiot.” Bakugou’s voice was hoarser than you remember, barely there and weak through the phone. He coughed. “Been a fuckin’ while, huh?”

Your heart jumped, seeming to nearly seize at the sound of his voice- at the sound of his croaking breath, at the sound of him present and okay on the other end of the phone. You pressed your palms into your eyes, trying to will yourself not to cry, but you couldn’t help it. He was there, and fine, and talking and it didn’t feel like your heart was breaking anymore.

“You motherfucker,” You choked out, trying to clear the tears from you throat. You were sure Bakugou could hear them anyway. “Fuck you- you asshole.”

Bakugou just seemed to laugh- a thin, withering sound that got stuck in his throat. He coughed again, the sound of his chest rattling audible and frightening through the phone. 

“Yeah.” He croaked. “Fuckin’ deserved that one, huh?”

“Where were you?” You held your phone with both your shaking hands, clutching at it desperately. “Y-you didn’t- fuck- you didn’t answer! And I texted you and texted you and you didn’t fucking answer and I was so worried, you absolute fucker, and scared and I-I-”

Your shuddered, gasping to catch your breath. It felt like every bit of anxiety you’d had from the past two weeks was crawling up your throat all at once. It was torrent of worry and desperation and anguish tearing apart your ribcage and bursting out your mouth. You were tired and your chest hurt and you couldn’t seem to stop crying. 

“It-it’s okay. I’m okay. Stop crying, sunshine.” He soothes, but his voice is too thin and too ragged and all it does it make you worry. “I’m right fuckin’ here- not goin’ anywhere, okay?”

“Y-you’re not! You’re not okay! I can fuckin’ hear you. Y-you’re coughing and your voice doesn’t sound right and-” You take a deep breath, wiping at your eyes. “What happened to you?”

A pause. Another cough. Another round of chest-rattling coughs.

“I, uh, jus’ got a little fuckin’ hurt s’all.” He grits out. “It’s-I’m fine. It’s alright. I’ll be just fuckin’ fine.”

“For two weeks? You were hurt for two weeks?”

“No- I, uh, got held up for a bit. And then hurt.”

“What?” You gasp, incredulous. “Bakugou- t-that doesn’t- it doesn’t make any fucking sense! Held up? What the hell does that even mean?”

There’s silence from his end, but you can hear his ragged breaths and a steady, mechanical beeping through the phone.

“W-what’s that beeping sound?” You ask.

“It’s nothing- it’s uh-”

“Bakugou. Cut the bullshit, please-” You beg voice high and desolate. “Just tell me what’s going on. I-I don’t get it! How could you just be gone for two weeks and then be hurt a-and that noise- it’s a monitor isn’t it?”

More silence. 

“Isn’t it?”

“Yes.” He bites out. “It is.”

“Oh my god,” You want to scream, panic once again overtaking you. “Are you in a hospital, right now?”

“Yes.”

Something in you breaks. Something lodged deep in your chest, and all you can think about is seeing him. Making sure that he really is alive in a hospital bed and not some fucked-up figure of your imagination right now.

“Where?” You demand. “Where?”

“W-what?”

“I said fucking where, Bakugou.” You caught your breath, willing your voice to be solid. “Tell me. Right now.”

“I- No!”

“Oh my god, why won’t you just tell me- anything! Ever! You don’t tell me fucking anything and all I know about you is fuck-all nothing and-” Your voice rises, higher and higher and louder as you rant. “Do you even know what I’ve been doing these past two weeks? Worrying! About you! And fucking looking your name up and finding nothing because I don’t know who you are or how to reach you or where you live or even what you look like- a-all I have is your voice and your last name and that’s not even fucking helpful because all I can find is some goddamn hero, Dynamite, who isn’t you and I couldn’t- I couldn’t-”

You’re gasping for air now, nearly shattering your phone in your vice grip. You chest aches, burns, and all he’s doing is sitting on the other end of the phone. Silent. Breathing. Saying nothing like always.

“That’s me.” He finally says, quiet and subdued. 

“Excuse me?”

Bakugou coughs again. It sounds painful.

“Dynamite.” He finally whispers out. “It’s me.”

You drop your phone. Watch it slip out of your hands and onto the ground. 

Dynamite. It’s me.

Bakugou Katsuki. Scowling, blonde, angry, Bakugou Katsuki. Ash-ridden pro-hero covered in gunpowder and searing burns and surrounded by fire Bakugou Katsuki. 

He was your soulmate. The man who seemed to infect your life for the past two weeks. The man you couldn’t find was exactly the same man who was everywhere you looked no matter what you did- on TV, on the internet, in every article you read, every bit of research you ever conducted for your project- and apparently on your phone. This entire time. 

You’re angry, shaking and seething and fuming as you pick your phone back up.

“Fuck you, Bakugou,” You spit venomously, tears once again falling. “Y- you just- you disappeared, for weeks, to go be a fucking hero and didn’t even tell me? You put yourself in danger, fucking knowing- w-what if you- what if you- I wouldn’t have known! I wouldn’t have ever fucking known what happened to you and I wouldn’t ever get to know- and you’d just be- you’d just be-”

“Gone.” 

“Gone.” You repeat.

“T-this is why I didn’t wanna fuckin’ tell ya.” He wheezes. “Because it fuckin’ changes things when you say you’re a hero.”

“A-a hero?” You’re nearly yelling into the phone. “You think I’m upset over you being a fucking hero?”

“Aren’t you?”

“No!” You scream, enraged. “I’m not- I don’t. I don’t care about you being a fucking hero! I care about you, you fucking asshole! I’ve been sitting here for weeks worrying about you, and searching for you, because you fucking vanished and I didn’t know how to look for you and I couldn’t find anything and I just wanted to find you because I like you- I like you, you fucking idiot!”  

He’s silent, the only sounds are your raging breaths and the beeping of a machine.

“You like me?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You’re screeching now. “That’s what you fucking got from that? Are you fucking stupid? That’s the stupidest fucking thing you’ve ever said to me! Are you even fucking listening to me right n-”

Bakugou laughs. He laughs, loud and unrestrained and slightly rattling, interrupting your train of thought completely. You’re clutching your phone, pressing it to your ear and seeing red.

“A-are you fucking laughing? Stop fucking laughing- this isn’t- I’m fucking mad at you! Stop laughing, you’re being fucking immature and stupid and a fucking asshole right now! Did you hear a fucking thing I sai-”

“You fuckin’ like me.” He repeats. “I like you too, idiot.”

The wind is knocked out of you- every bit of oxygen is a struggle and your heart is beating fast, faster, so very fast like it’s racing around your ribcage and ripping through the skin of your chest and everything hurts but it doesn’t at the same time and all you can think and see is Bakugou. Bakugou Katsuki.

“I like you, too.” You respond, suddenly dazed.

A pause, another rattling laugh.

“You said that already, idiot.”

Just kidding. Back to thinking and seeing red and only bleeding red.

“Actually, you know what,” Your voice is tight and overwhelmingly loud. “Fuck you! I hate you, you fucking asshole! Made me worry for fucking weeks just to sit there and make fun of me! I’m fucking mad at you- so fucking mad! You know what? I’m hanging u-”

“Don’t.” He says suddenly. “Please.”

His voice stops you in your tracks. Bakug- Katsuki sounds soft and tender and quiet and he didn’t swear once. He’s hurt and he’s probably still hurting and you decide then that you couldn’t do that to him- hang up on him. It was an empty threat. You figured it probably always would be from now on, no matter how angry he made you. 

“Y-yeah. Okay.” You start. “But only because you’re fuckin’ hurt or whatever and even I couldn’t fuckin’ do that to-”

“You sound like me.” He interrupts, and there’s something so fond in his voice that it makes you shiver. “Swearing like a fuckin’ sailor, sunshine, what the hell happened to you, huh?”

“Y-you!” You sputter, trying to recover from the way the nickname wounded you. “You fucking happened to me, you absolute prick! You never telling me anything happened to me! The last two fuckin’ weeks happened to me!” 

He just laughs again, and you think you could kill him. Are suddenly really contemplating just finishing the job off- until he coughs. Until he coughs and rattles and shakes and doesn’t stop coughing for almost an entire minute.

“You- you’re okay? Right?” You ask, voice quiet.

“Mhm.” Bakugou hums, voice deep and raspy. “Everythin’s just fuckin’ peachy.”

“No. I’m serious. Be serious. Are you okay?” 

There’s silence on his end, but you think maybe you can hear the shuffling of blankets.

“N-no.” He grits out, almost like admitting it is painful. “It’s- I’m not. I will be, though.”

“Okay.” You nod. “How long are you in the hospital for?”

“Not sure. Jus’ fuckin’ woke up.”

“And you called me,” You were yelling again. “Call a fucking nurse! Call one right now! You probably need like fucking meds or treatment or like your vitals taken or something! Hang up! Hang up right now and call a nurs-”

“No thanks.”

“Excuse me? Bakugou, are you even listening to me? You’re hurt! You need to fucking call somebody- a nurs-”

“I wanted to talk to you.” Bakugou interrupts, voice hardly there. “Wouldn’ta if I knew you were gonna yell so much, though. Who the fuck yells that much?”

You pause. Taken aback by his words, by his admission. Only for a moment though. 

“You! You fucking yell so much, you asshole! I learned it from you!” 

Bakugou coughs again, and you lower your voice. You sober up.

“I’m serious. Hang up. Get a nurse.” You suggest gently. “Call me again later, yeah?”

“Yeah.” He agrees. “Okay.”

Bakugou hangs up and you finally feel your heart begin to calm. He wastes no time, sending a text only seconds later. 

--/---

eat up, bitches!! it’s an identify reveal, near death experience AND confession scene- welcum to the sweet sweet world of my favorite tropes ~ it only goes up frum hear 

#bnha bakugou #mha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #mha bakugo katsuki #bakugou imagine #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x you #bakugou fic #bakugou soulmate textfic #bakugou soulmate au #mha fic #bnha fic #bnha soulmate au

[duckugou]

the blood on our hands

bakugou x gn!reader

aged up!

cw: a n g s t as hell. comfort. cursing, mentions of drinking, smoking, etc. alluding to depression and anxiety. dealing with trauma of missions and losing people. a ton of mentions of blood

this is a heavy topic in the hero universe i imagine- and generally in the mental health world of it all.

lyrics are from purple flowers by ande estrella which hold a very important meaning that has nothing to do with this- they just worked with the story. But fr go listen to it bc its so good.

come to my asks to be a part of my taglist! just let me know what kinds of fics/ what fandom/ what characters/ etc you want to be tagged in! Requests are open!!

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

reality is heavy and loud

Spacing out was more than being distracted to Y/n. Being a young hero meant stressful situations, overbearing management, tight spaces, stuffy meetings, and so much... blood. It takes a toll on a young person. Of course they wanted to be a hero- wouldn't chose anything else. They grin and bear this shit for a reason- to save and help people.

But god, who saves the heros?

but white has the privilege of washing machines to wash out the stains from their comfortable jeans

Some nights, after wrap-up meetings, everything was a bit too heavy. The usual group of friends and young heroes would choose someone's house to go to in order to destress.

For some, that was smoking. For some, it was drinking, video games, napping, venting, sitting outside alone yet with company. And for some it was merely listening to everyone else.

Not having to make a decision. Not having to be responsible. That's what y/n picked every time.

Bakugou would always notice them alone in the corner of the room. They were the one to come up with destress gatherings after hard missions. Bakugou knew it was so they wouldn't be alone with their thoughts. That's why he would always step in at times like as get them to talk, so those thoughts dont stay trapped in their head.

"Hey." Bakugou muttered, sitting on the floor next to y/n in Denkis apartment.

"Hey."

"You good, dude?" Bakugou asked with genuine concern.

He was always a bit nicer to Y/n. Nobody knew why, yet everyone knew why. They both were fragile and chose to hide it during the day, being strong around others to not raise red flags.

"I'm okay...just. That one was bad. I almost lost that kid. Like she almost fucking- died in my arms." Y/n choked out.

"Hey hey hey, its okay. You got her to the ambulance in time. You did that shit. You always do. You're the best in the game at comforting little twerps." Bakugou attempted to comfort them- somewhat succeeding and holding their head against his chest.

One time, Y/n mentioned that they held kids against their chest during rescues to calm their heartbeat. "If you listen to a calmer heartbeat, you're more likely to try to match it and slow your own down." Of course you wouldn't think Y/n would be able to have a calm heartbeat during a rescue, but they are very talented at controlling their nerves. Part of being a hero.

wiping the blood off their hands to their thighs, wearing the blood of the people who've died

Y/n subconsciously calmed down a bit, Bakugou's ability to remember every word that drips off of Y/n's lips paying off.

"I know. I just can't stop...thinking about everyone I've- we've lost. Its so unfair."

"I know. Hey, you have- uh. Lets go to the bathroom." Bakugou noticed a smudge of blood on Y/n's face and a bit on their hands. Cleaning up was the last thing on their mind earlier on.

"Ok."

Taking each other's hands, they walked into the bathroom. Bakugou sat Y/n on the counter, turning on the sink and grabbing a cloth.

"O-oh god. Thats fucking blood. I thought I washed my h-hands." Y/n began panicking, causing Bakugou to put their hands under the water with soap, washing it all off for them.

Tears mixed with the water from the sink and Bakugou stayed silent. Wiping their face, Bakugou looked into Y/n's eyes. These two have just always known.

They know what people can hide. What secret messages the body language of a person can hold. And he let them grip onto the back of his shirt as he held them in his arms, Y/n not being able to cry anymore and just breathing in his scent from his shoulder.

but dont let the purple flowers fool you

"Listen. We're going to get through this one. I know its hard on you- all of the families involved. But you- we saved them. We're all here for each other right? I'm here for you." Bakugou pulls Y/n back a little to look into their eyes. "You are the strongest one here. I know it fucking hurts. I know it is so...scary-" He sniffles a little, letting his own emotions take over. Something only he did when they were alone together. "- but we're heroes. And human. We are allowed to feel pain and sadness and disappointment- but we're heroes for a reason, right? We can handle this shit."

"I know we can. We always have. Just... promise you'll never leave me?"

"Youre so stupid. I've been more careful lately." He scoffs, wiping tears from his face. He of course knew that Y/n was referring to a few weeks ago when Bakugou got too caught up in the mission and was almost crushed by debris. He was pulled away in time by a fellow hero but it still opened his eyes, as well as Y/n, to how fragile they are, even if they are the heroes.

"I know Kats, but please. You're my rock in here. You're my person." Y/n says looking into his eyes.

"And you're my person. I can't leave you behind. You wouldn't know what to do without me here." Bakugou chuckles, earning a shove from Y/n.

"Katsuki." Y/n starts, holding his hands in their own.

"Yeah." He sighs.

"I don't speak lightly of feelings, you know that right?"

"Of course I know that. You don't talk much about those to anyone-"

"Except you." They interrupt Bakugou, reminding him of the importance of their unspoken bond and making his heart race.

"Yeah."

"Then you'll know how hard it is for me to say this. But- Katsuki I think I love you. I know we aren't super affectionate outside of being alone but- I've never felt what I feel with you before. I understand if you don't feel the same way and if this was all just because you felt bad but I needed to tell you that because you're really important and this is very import-"

Bakugou, in the most cliche turn of events, cuts Y/n off with a kiss to shut them up.

Pulling away, Bakugou rests his forehead on Y/n's .

"I love you too. I thought that was obvious when I never stopped you from saying my first name, idiot." He chuckles lightly.

"I kinda figured you at least liked me-"

"I'm going to keep you safe forever. That means physically and emotionally. No more hiding any feelings from me just because there are people around. Pull me aside. Hold me if you need or want to- I dont care if the whole world sees that. But just- fuck Y/n. I know you feel fragile. I know what it's like to be scared and hide it. I'm your diary now, ok? Always."

"Thank you...Katsuki. Fuck. You're everything I've ever needed. Plus youre kinda cute too I suppose." Y/n giggles.

"Oi fuck off." Bakugou kisses them again, relieved that he can finally be himself with Y/n, that he has them finally.

"I'm your diary too them, okay? I mean it. Anything, any time, say the word." Y/n says lightly, squeezing Bakugou's hand.

"Fuck. I love you."

"I love you too. I love how that sounds coming from you by the way."

"Me the fuck too-" Bakugou was interrupted by a loud yelling-

"I GOTTA PISSSSSS" followed by banging on the door.

"MAYBE YOU SHOULDN'T DRINK SO FAST THEN LIGHT WEIGHT!" Bakugou responds, recognizing the voice of Denki.

"DONT MAKE FUN OF MEEEE I'LL LAUGH AND PEE MYSELF" Denki whined.

"Let's go, angel." Bakugou whispers into Y/n's hair, kissing them on the head and helping them off of the counter.

#bakugou x y/n #mha fanfic #mha fic #mha imagine #mha one shot #bakugou x reader #bakugou fic #bakugou angst #mha angst #mha comfort #bakugou comfort

[ac3id]

Plaything | 18+ | part i

plaything 1/ ?? | part 0

pairings: yandere! bully bakugou katsuki x fem! reader

warnings: [series] blackmail, bullying, dubcon/ noncon, filming w/o consent, yandere themes, no quirks au. ALL CHARACTERS ARE ABOVE 18 YEARS OF AGE.

↪ for chapter 1: dubcon, blackmail, humiliation, masturbation, filming w/o consent, boot grinding, a little bit of bakusquad + reader....this is filthy :D 

summary: by luck you get enrolled into u.a high the best school in your town. the only catch is that the school is filled with rich, spoilt and powerful brats who just seem to hate you and among them, a certain red eyed blonde dreads you the most

↪ for chapter 1: you bump into bakugou by accident, dropping your vanilla ice cream all over him, you try to apologize and run away but wants more...oh wait why are his friends standing there recording everything too? 

wordcount. 4k+

a/n: sooooo, it’s finally out! huge thanks to @sawamooora for proof reading this! helped me out a lot <3 sorry for making u sit through that mess x[

 this scene was inspired by that one episode of boys over flowers where the mc’s best friend drops ice cream on the main guy’s shoe and he asks the mc to lick it off...obviously that didn’t happen in the show but it really got me thinking...... 

alsO the netflix show elite,,, i just saw it and knew,,,,

taglist: @mocha-focha​, @erenyeagersbasement​ , @haribo-pop, @sunshine-fangs​, @kuremis​, @amazing-fandoms​,

dm/ inbox/ comment to be added/ removed. 

—navigation

It was a great opportunity. Never in your life would you have thought you’d manage to land a scholarship at the prestigious U.A Private Academy. 

The school was a dream, the best in your city, and only affordable for the rich. Graduating from such a school could have helped you with life in so many different ways. Not only would it open doors you could never touch before, but it would help you to form connections which would make your life undoubtedly easier.

Graduating from U.A. was a blessing, but obviously, it did not come easy. It was rather unfortunate. After your previous school building had collapsed, due to some accident, the board announced its year-long closure.

At the time, you were beyond lost and understandably frustrated - it was your last year before college and you simply couldn't risk waiting the year out. The whole situation was nerve-wracking, looking for decent schools which would allow you in. 

Honestly, you had no idea what you would’ve done if U.A. hadn’t called you that night. 

It was the last day of the summer holidays, a week after your school building had collapsed. Luckily, no one was hurt - but the damage on the campus was severe. 

You had been talking to your friends when your mother rushed into your room with exciting news. Apparently, the chairman of U.A was feeling generous. He had decided to offer four excellent students from your school a scholarship to U.A. 

You were overjoyed being one of the students along with your two other friends; Shinso Hitoshi and Izuku Midoriya. 

At first, the thought was a little scary - going into a completely different world than you were accustomed to. The kids there would be much different than you, you didn't want to be the   laughing stock, you didn’t want to be their silly little entertainment... The thought made you nervous, but when your best friend, Izuku, called you the next night explaining how he also won the scholarship; followed by Shinso, you were relieved. 

Yes, you were stepping into a whole different world but you at least had your two friends with you. 

And that brought you to the first day of school. 

You stood outside the huge gates of the even enormous academy all alone shaking in your little, expensive skirt they forced you to wear as the uniform waiting for your friends. You promised the two boys you’d wait for them, and besides, you weren’t planning on entering the building all alone. 

Your friends, Shinso and Midoriya, lived close to each other. They were supposed to meet you at the gates of the school that morning, but they were running late. Your anxiety grew the longer you stayed there, with students filling the place- arriving in their fancy cars with their expensive bags and accessories. It easily made you feel out of place.

“Hey,” you heard someone before someone tapped on your shoulder. You quickly turned around to greet the voice. Staring back at you was Uraraka Ochaco.

You remembered she was in your school too, Midoriya has a huge crush on her. 

“Yes, Uraraka? Right?” You weren’t close to her, nothing but mere acquaintances. But seeing her face - right here, right now - it made your day. 

Uraraka was dressed in the same uniform as you, there was no doubt that she was one of the four kids who won the scholarship. Both of you talked while you implored her to wait for Midoriya and Shinso. You didn’t fail to notice the way her cheeks turned pink when you mentioned Midoriya. The two of them were so obvious. 

Your friends arrived, they were late, but they came. 

Apparently, there was an accident that forced them to stay back a little longer, but they managed to make it before the first bell. 

“I actually have an old friend who goes there now,” Midoriya confesses out of the blue as the four of you enter the gates. You look at him in awe. 

During the three years in high school that both of you had spent together, he had never mentioned any friend of his going to the U.A. academy ever. 

“Why did you never tell us?” Uraraka asks. 

“well, we’re not on good terms. He used to live in the same neighborhood before his parent’s business took off. He left after middle school.” Midoriya says, a slight frown forming on his face.

“Who is he?” Shinso asks. 

Midoriya pauses briefly before explaining his entire history with a temperamental and rude blonde. Bakugou Katsuki, he calls him. His childhood friend. But from what you managed to gather, Bakugou was anything but a friend to Midoriya. 

Bakugo was once just a simple boy, living a simple life, destined to do great things - but once his parent’s clothing line ‘Dynamite’ blew up and became mainstream, he started drowning in wealth. Bakugo moved out of his old neighborhood at the starting of high school before enrolling in U.A., just like all his rich friends.

“Maybe you should say hi,” Uraraka suggests. Midoriya’s expressions turned sheepish.

“About that…” he started. “I called him yesterday, got his number from mom, and-” he stopped. 

“What did he say?” Shinso asked.

“He told me to get lost and die,” Midoriya said with a slight frown on his face, looking down. 

That was your first impression of Katsuki Bakugou. For a man you had not even met, you sure loathed him. 

School went smoothly for a week, everything was going great. The four of you kept your profile low, didn’t talk until spoken to, kept your distance, and everything was okay. 

People often starred and whispered amongst each other when they saw you in the hallways, but that was about it. Everyone seemed to be decent but… there’s always a but. 

Everything took a turn for the worse when you managed to piss off the wrong person, Bakugo Katsuki himself. 

It was an honest mistake, not even that big of a deal - especially for his standards Yet, for some reason, Bakugo wanted to get under your skin. 

It happened after your lunch break, you were on your way back to your classroom with an ice-cream cone fasted tightly in your hands. You mindlessly dashed through the hallways, trying your best to get back to class as fast as possible - you don’t want to be late. It’d earn you a bad reputation. You don’t need that- you don't want anything which could jeopardize your scholarship. 

You walked straight and took a turn. Just by fate, you bumped into a stiff, hard chest making you wobble on your feet and sending your ice cream from your hand flying straight to the ground.

“Shit,” you cursed, looking down seeing what you had to work with. 

The ice-cream cone splattered on the floor, the white creamy liquid flushed all over the floor along with staining an expensive-looking, black leather boot. A snarl comes from above you along with a group of chuckles. More expensive shoes come into your line of view as you realize you’re not alone. 

You slowly bring your gaze up, ogling at who you just pissed off. 

Staring back at you is a furious blonde, glaring at you with such intensity that it makes your stomach drop. It’s the infamous Bakugou Katsuki, you don’t want to deal with him. 

-

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” you don’t give him a chance to complain as you take your flight. Quickly, you try running away but a large hand grabs your forearm, stopping you dead in your tracks. 

You look to the side, deep red eyes stare right back at you. 

“Where are you running off to? Don’t you think you owe my friend here a proper apology?” Kirishima says, his grip on your arm growing tighter. He towers over you, his huge body trapping you with intimidation.

Going to U.A for over a week there’s a thing or two that you’ve learned about the rich, snobby brats who own the school. Not everyone is bad, a few of them are actually but the rest are just bad. 

Bakugou was the worst. From how Midoriya described him, you knew for a fact he’d be a horrible person. But hell, he managed to prove himself even worse. 

He was crude, mean, downright arrogant, and ignorant. Always screaming unasked opinions on top of his lungs, and gets mad whenever someone disagrees. He acts like the world revolves around him.

 Bakugo had a bunch of friends who he called his “followers” and they weren’t any better.

They just watched while Bakugou ruined everything, they were there to support him. 

Kirishima Eijirou the redhead, he was captain of the football team. He was a jock, brawns over brains kind of person. Girls cooed over him and his overly attractive, hot body. It looked as if he was sculpted by God himself. 

Next was Kaminari Denki. He was in the school band, dating the lead singer. And yet, he managed to find time to flirt with other girls. He was the goofball of the group, dumb and stupid But he always knew what he was doing. Even though it was barely noticeable, you could always see a devious glint in those amber eyes of his. 

Sero Hanta was famous for a lot of reasons. Most notably for having brought illegal drugs on the campus and skipping classes to go down to his junkie hangout spot to smoke weed. The man had no shame. Sometimes, he’d walk into the classrooms high as fuck. The teachers couldn’t do anything even if they tried, his parents practically owned the school; he owned the school. There was no going against the tall, lanky man who looked like he couldn’t even smash a bug. He held the most power and his friends sure knew how to abuse it. 

Last but not least was Mina Ashido. The one and only girl member of the self-proclaimed ‘bakusquad’. Sometimes, Jirou Kyouka, the lead singer of the school, would hang out with the boys and her boyfriend, but she wasn’t a permanent member. Mina was. 

In your opinion, Mina was a nightmare dressed like a daydream. With her short, pink hair and bright smile, she seemed like an angel. But she was the devil. Worse than even Bakugou, perhaps. 

She knew everything about everyone, she had leverage galore: screenshots ready to leak, videos ready to ruin lives. She had them all, and frankly- she scared you the most. 

Kirishima pushed you back, and Bakugo caught you by your shoulders. 

“That was fucking rude,” he growled, biting his fingers into your shoulder blades tight and hard making you squeal. “Are you fucking blind or something? Fucking extra.” 

“I said I’m sorry, let me go will you?” Even in such a terrifying situation, you try to remain calm.

“What do you think, Sero?” Kaminari began. Your heart sank, including Sero into anything was never a good sign. 

“She ruined Bakugou’s new shoes,” he continued. Bakugou’s hold on you tightened and you winced, turning back to him and returning his glare. 

“Okay, what do you want?” you give in, finally. A mischievous spark lights up in his crimson eyes as flashes a cocky smirk to his friends before turning back to you with a frown. He pushes you towards Mina and she catches you with an arm around your shoulder. 

“Those were expensive, right?” she looks at you and then back at Bakugou. He grunts, nodding. 

“Fuck yes, I’m pissed as hell. Some fucking extra managed to ruin it.” 

You look back down to steal a glance at his heavy, leather boot. The small, white stain melted away. 

“What will you do to make up for it?” Mina whispers your name and you cringe. They were teasing you. For their fun, they were making fun of you. 

“What can I do?” you say, sarcastically. Prying yourself away from her hold. The crowd goes dead silent before speaking. Sero is the first one to talk. 

“Lick it off.”

There’s a pause, no one speaks. Your stomach drops and your face pales at the look the five of them are giving you- it’s serious. Dead serious. 

Kaminari bursts out laughing followed by Sero and the others. The four of them get a great laugh but Bakugou stares at you head-on with his grave expressions burning through your soul. 

“Whatcha looking at? Do it,” he commands. 

The laughing dies down and Kaminari speaks, “are you serious? You want her to lick your shoe,” he can’t control his laughter, a chuckle breaks with every word. 

“Yes, I’m fucking serious. Besides, Sero recommended it,” he smirks. “Do you really want to say no to him? I don’t know so much about this but-“ he leans down close to your face, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear, “it might complicate your scholarship.” 

There’s a twisted rhythm in his voice. He’s enjoying tormenting you. You still want to believe that they’re just messing around. That they’ll have their laughs and let you go, but the way Sero stares at you says otherwise. 

“You don’t wanna do it?” Bakugou asks. 

“Of course she doesn’t! That’s gross, oh my god.” Mina exclaims, earning a chuckle from the rest of the boys. 

“Hey, let’s hear it from Sero himself.” Kirishima pats Sero’s back, pushing him forward. The five of them have circled around you, coiling you inside their venomous nest with you in the center. You turn to Sero with pleading eyes, looking up at his huge form, begging. 

He smirks looking down at you, you look so tiny beneath bim. He wants to mess with you, even more, you look like a nice toy to him. He wants to play with it until he can’t. 

“I guess, I did say that-” your blood runs cold, heartbeat picking up in nervousness. “-but you don’t need to do it.” He finishes. Your face lights up while the others groan in disappointment. Bakugou looks livid. 

“Just know that, you’re the one who dropped the ice cream on Bakugou’s shoe and now you’re not even helping him out. That’s not very noble, is it? I don’t know if I even by mistake slipped that info back home- my parents might reconsider whether you truly deserve to be here or not. They don’t really like disrespectful kids who comprise the school’s name.” 

Sero ends his speech with a wide, ear-to-ear grin, followed by a pat to your head. 

“The choice is yours.”  

You pause for a moment and think. Where they were really going to make you do it, where they were really going to humiliate you like this. They were. But were you willing to do it? 

From Sero’s threat, you could tell he was serious, this was legit. 

It wouldn’t have been the first time the school expelled someone who had beef with Sero, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. They don’t care about anyone but their loving son. They wouldn’t even think once before expelling you.

“What’s your answer, princess?” Kirishima teases.

 Mina and Kaminari once again break into fits of laughter.

“What do you mean? She doesn’t have a choice here, kneel you extra.” Your heart hammers in your chest as Bakugou gestures you to kneel. You stop for a second, breathing unevenly- thinking. After a long, thoughtful sigh, you answer. 

“No, I am not going to do it.” Your voice is meek yet clear. Even though you’re trembling under the heavy gazes of five snakes, you choose to stand your ground. 

Bakugou glaring at you while the others boo. 

“Aw, c’mon you don’t mean that.” 

“Don’t be a little brat.” 

Bakugou stays silent while the others continue to throw insults at you -  calling you names and trying to make you regret your decision. You look straight forward into Bakugou’s cold, red eyes, searching for his next move. Your heart beats even harder in your chest with increased anxiety. After watching your torment for more than a few minutes, Bakugo decides he’s had enough of this game.

“Hey, shitty hair,” Bakugo starts. “Punch me.” 

“What?” Kirishima asks, vividly shaken. “Why do you want me to hit you, Bakubro?” 

“Punch me real hard, give me a black eye.” The confusion grows greater on everyone’s faces. You stare at him in awe, wondering what angle was trying to play. 

Kirishima raises his hands in defense. “Woah, dude slow down there. I’m not just going to punch you.” 

Bakugou clicks the roof of his tongue, letting out a sound of irritation. “You all are just dumb,” he starts.

“Imagine if this punny, little,” he leans down closer to you till his lips touch your ears and whispers your name with a crude chuckle. “Were to drop all her food over me, not apologize, punch and me then run away, that’d bring her into a whole world of trouble. Wouldn’t it?” 

Bakugo’s words are calculated and sly, he knows exactly what he’s getting at when he starts. His voice fills you up with dread as he makes his accusations public.

“She would be expelled on spot and Kacchan could also raise charges,” Kaminari adds. 

Your eyes widen in fear. 

“Yeah, I’ll fucking do that.” Mina giggles. “That would succck,” she cheers. Your lower lip quivers as you stare at them in disbelief, your eyes open wide only to be covered with fear. 

“Hey, c’mon, why are you doing this to me?” You feel them inch closer to you, their warmth leeching onto you the longer you stay surrounded by them. 

“Because you have no fucking manners.” Bakugou snarls. 

“Kiri, punch him. What are you waiting for? If you don’t wanna do it I will!” Kaminari cries, growing impatient. 

Kirishima laughs before he charges Bakugou. Your heart hammers in your chest. 

You think about your family, your future, and how disappointed everyone would be with you. Your dreams and aspirations, all were rooted in this school. 

It was honestly sad, pathetic even. Your entire future was just a joke to these spoiled kids. These kids who could control you, and everyone else,  with just a flick of their fingers. It’s unfortunate, but that’s the price to pay for a piece of the beautiful cake known as U.A... You resign yourself to your fate.

A piece of your mind. 

“N-no, don’t do that. I-I’ll do it,” you murmured, your voice timid and weak. The five paused looking at each other with an ominous glint in their eyes. Bakugou was the first to speak. 

“Well, then fucking get on with it. On your knees.” Obediently like a trained puppy, you got down onto your knees, not letting your eyes fall from Bakugou’s face. His red, fierce eyes barked at you with an unknown look, keeping you lost. 

“Holy shit, she’s actually doing this,” Mina squealed watching you lean forward, bringing your face next to Bakugou’s expensive boots.

“Kaminari, record this.” Sero taps at the energetic blonde, forcing him to take his phone out and hit ‘record’. As you lean further to the ground, your short skirt rides up behind you, giving the audience a clear view of your round ass and pastel panties. The sight brings a smile to Bakugou’s face as he scoffs. 

“Cute panties,” he remarks. 

You jerk, trying desperately to sit back, but Bakugo stops you. Smashing his other foot on top of your shoulder, he holds you there facing the ground.

“Don’t. You. Dare.” he growls.

You squirm, almost falling under his weight and as much you hate to admit it, a tingle of excitement runs down your spine. This was turning you on.

 A row of whistles flood in, the boys start teasing you and praising Bakugou. 

“Lick it off,”  he commands. 

You look down at his leather boot, the ice cream almost melted. There’s still a bright white spot of the sweet now liquid splayed out. Even though it’s not a lot, it still makes you cringe. You peek your shy, little tongue out timidly, forcing yourself to do the heinous deed. 

Bakugou watches you hesitate and pushes on your shoulder harder making you reach towards him. 

You give in after a final attempt, diving into his wishes. Your wet tongue touches the rough, cold leather. You cringe after a single touch, closing your eyes and scrunching your nose at the salty taste. “Clean it all off,” he commands.

You dive back in, this time letting your tongue glide across a larger portion. The humiliation burns through your body. It makes you uncomfortably hot, mostly from anger and but a little bit of arousal.

“Nice ass.” 

There it is. The excitement comes back the moment they start making suggestive comments, the attention riles you up and it’s horrible. 

“Kaminari are you even supposed to be here? Don’t you have a girlfriend?” Mina asks at the blonde pervert who was currently zooming on your ass. 

“Oh? We’re cool as long as I don’t stick my dick her,” he points to you. “That’s hella fucking tempting but I’m in love, dude.” He chuckles to himself, thinking about his girlfriend. 

They treat you like an object, talking about you like you were some sort of a toy. 

“Bet her pussy is tight,” Sero says. 

Kirishima turns to Bakugou, looking at him with pleading eyes. “Yo, Bakubro, can we touch her?” 

Bakugou looks on from watching you lick his boot and turns to Kirishima. A dark, unsettling gaze falls across his eyes as he speaks, “No. This one is mine.” he stares down at you. 

You stop lapping on his shoe and stand back on your knees, buckling your knees you try to get up but Bakugou harshly kicks your shoulder, throwing you back and making you cry. 

“Why did you do that?” you squeal, holding onto your bruised shoulder, glaring at him intently. 

The rest of the group goes quiet at the display of Bakugou’s sudden violence. 

He stands between your thighs, lazily resting his foot atop of your soft thighs. 

“You’re fucking pathetic, you know that?” the angle you were spread out in had your skirt flipped over hips, displaying your pretty, pastel panties to everyone in the room. 

Even though it’s subtle, masked by everyone’s fear of what Bakugou was planning, you still feel everyone’s gaze focused right on you and more specifically at your clothed cunt. Bakugou presses hard on your thigh making you cry. 

“Useless Deku’s friends are just like him. The fucking second you walked in here, I knew you were just another useless insect for me to stomp on.” He pauses, smirking, pressing his foot onto you even harder, twisting his ankle to increase the burning sting surging across your right thigh. “And I’m doing just that.” 

He steps off you for a moment, letting you catch your breath and recover from the burn. His eyesight travels lower down to your panties. He admires the cute pair you had on. Normally when he’d see girls naked, they’d dress themselves up the most luxurious to match his standards. But that’s not you, that could never be you. 

He rejoices at the thought of seeing your flushed, tear-stained face breaking down under him. You’ll never be like those girls, always a step behind. He can build you up and break you however he likes, you’d have no say in it. 

The power trip drives him crazy. 

He presses the tip of his boot over your clothed clothed cunt, pushing the hard material right over your sensitive clit. 

You gasp at the feeling, looking up at him with terrified eyes. He smirks down at you, moving his foot in a steady rhythm, rubbing the fabric of your cotton panties against your little pearl. 

“This turning you on? What a freak.” The rest of his group basks in shock. They watch intently as the scene spiraled out for them, too captivated to make any comments. They just keep quiet and stare. 

The way you squirm under Bakugou as he plays with your cute clit so unforgivingly makes them hot with excitement. Kaminari feels a little guilty but he blames it on his nature as a man.

Sero feels a little bad for you, they all do. But then again they wouldn’t waste the opportunity to be in Bakugou’s footsteps- literally. 

“You’re a little slut, you know that?” Bakugou sneers. 

Your gasps turn into whimpers as his simulation becomes harder. You clench your fists, desperately wishing it to be over. Tears brim in your eyes at the sheer humiliation of your corrupted form. This was just too much, too much for you to handle. 

“Please, stop,” you beg, knowing he wouldn't listen. “I’ll report you,” you cry.  A roar of laughter starts, shutting you up. 

“Go for it, you do that.” Mina comments. Kaminari walks closer to you, bringing the camera down to your face recording your horrified expressions. 

“We’ll just go ahead and post this online.” he threatens. 

A drop of tear falls down your waterline following a waterfall. You cry, leave all of your dignity behind and cry. You beg them to stop but as your pleas mix with your moans, it’s hard for anyone to understand what you’re saying. It’s not like they don’t know what you’re asking them for, they just turn deaf, simply because they can. 

Bakugou stops, he takes a step back, leaving you alone. You let out the tiniest cry when he leaves, ditching you just when you need his touch the most. 

“Feels like I’m doing too much of the work, if you want it so bad, do this yourself.” He says. Your body still burns with desire, your clit still hard and cunt salivating, you are nowhere close to being done... 

It’s as if something takes over and you are possessed by the dire need to cum, you do exactly as he says. 

You snake your fingers down your panties, deliberately rubbing on your swollen little clit before pushing your finger into your drenched cunt. You cry out as you clench around your finger, the pleasure becoming unbearable. Your legs shake and you close your eyes shut. 

You stay there on the floor, fingering yourself in the corridor, without any shame, while Kaminari records all of it. 

“She’s gonna give me a hard-on,” Kirishima says and you moan.

“She really is a slut, huh?” Sero comments. 

“She’s cute,” Mina adds with a smile. 

Bakugou scoffs, “does Deku know how much of a whore you are?” He asks. 

You don’t pay any attention to what he says, too busy bringing yourself to your climax.

“You’re getting all this right?” Mina looks over Kaminari’s shoulder and onto the phone screen which captures you beautifully losing yourself for everyone to see. 

“You close?” Bakugou asks as you feel yourself clench around fingers tightly, he bends down on his and pulls your panties down your hips, admiring your precious cunt. 

“Cute pussy,” he remarks before flicking your sensitive, hardened clit.

A rush of pleasure washes down your body as you cry while cumming. Bakugou pushes you right over the edge, a nasty grin screaming atop his face as he watches you. You curse at yourself for letting him see you like this, but there’s not much you can do but cry while you feel your juices gush around you before sliding down your thighs and onto the dirty floor. 

It takes a second for you to calm down and when you do come to your senses, dread fills you up. Tears shamelessly fall down your face as you realize what you just did. The others laugh at you, without feeling any remorse. 

Bakugou continues to stare at you with an unsettling look, while the others discuss the heinous crime you’ve just committed. 

Sero looks down at you and you catch his dark eyes staring at you. A toothy grin scavenges his face as he speaks. 

“Awesome,” he says as if he just finished some mediocre movie. 

Finally, you find the courage to get up and run. 

This was totally not awesome. 

#tw: noncon #tw: dubcon #tw: blackmail #tw: filming w/o consent #bakugou.🧡 #plaything #bakugou x reader #yandere bakugou #yandere!bakugou #yandere bakugou smut #bakugou x reader smut #bakugou x you #bakugou x fem!reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou katsuki #bakugou smut #bakugou headcanons #bakugou #bnha bakugou #kirishima x reader #sero x reader #kaminari x reader #mina x reader #bnha #bnha fanfiction #bnha smut #bnha x reader #bnha yandere #fanfiction #my hero academia

[outerbankspreferences]

Flight - Rudy Pankow

A/N: This makes Elaine out to be a bitch, but I don’t think she is. I support her and Rudy 100% and think they make a wonderful couple. It was more for the plot. 

Word Count: 1885

MASTERLIST

Flying had never been a problem before. You’ve never had to film anywhere that you couldn’t drive to. You had done some acting jobs around LA, and one time you went to Nashville before getting a part in Season 2 for Outer Banks. Netflix had offered to pay for you to fly out to North Carolina, but you opted for driving instead. You didn’t know anyone you were filming with, so you drove yourself.

Of course, you had been dreading filming in Barbados since you got the part. You had the biggest fear of flying and had been avoiding it since you were little. When you got the email from Netflix that contained your ticket to say that you were panicked was an understatement. Drew, Chase, and Maddie C. were already in Barbados, so it was going to be you, Rudy, Jonathan, Elaine and Maddie B. Everyone was just going to carpool to the airport. 

Rudy had a thing for you since he met you at the first table read for season 2. You were shy at first but quickly came out of your shell when you started to get to know everyone. Rudy thought you were hilarious and enjoyed your company so that’s what caused him to be knocking on your door the night before you guys had to leave for your flight.

 When you opened the door in your sweatpants and messy bun, he still thought you looked beautiful. “Hey, I thought you would be asleep.” Rudy spoke up and you moved to let him in your apartment. “Yeah well, I guess I’m a nervous flyer.” You laughed to yourself, “do you want a cup of tea?” You asked grabbing one of your mugs. Rudy had noticed your book and mug in the living room when he sat on the couch. “I hope I’m not interrupting you” Rudy spoke up as you walked into the living room handing him a drink. “No, you’re not, I just figured I’d pass the time until I fell asleep.” You responded, the both of you sitting on the couch. “I didn’t know you’re a nervous flyer, what did you do when you had to come to North Carolina?” Rudy questioned. “Uh, I drove.” You shrugged like it was the simplest thing to do. “What, that’s like a 3-day drive.” He said baffled by your answer. “Well yeah, but it’s a good way to see the country.” You laughed thinking about the memories you made on the solo road trip. “And you did it by yourself? That’s badass Y/L/N.” Rudy said smirking.

 The two of talked the whole night away and you showed him pictures of your trip across the country and told him all the stories. Rudy thought that he could listen to you talk all night, even after he started to get tired. He finally excused himself from you place promising to sit with you on the plane tomorrow to ease your mind.

 You woke up the next morning with a sick feeling in your stomach and it only got worse at the thought of getting on an airplane. You got the rest of your last-minute things packed up and brought out by your door getting ready to meet everyone at JD’s car. You were the last to show up when Elaine shouted out to you. “I thought you weren’t going to show.” She spoke with a snarky tone, and Rudy nudge her shoulder getting her to knock it off. “Yeah, well I’ll probably be late to my own funeral.” You laughed trying to ease the tension. You guys all piled in the car and Elaine took the opportunity to sit next to Rudy and made you sit in front with JD, while Maddison sat in the back.

Elaine also had a thing for Rudy and didn’t enjoy you showing up to take his attention away. Everyone thought they were going to get together after season 1 but it never happened. Then you came along, and Rudy pulled all his attention to you. Elaine wasn’t too secretive about her hatred towards you, but you just brushed it off as a mild insecurity and jealousy. You weren’t angry that you had to sit up front but instead talked to JD and tried to ease some of your nerves. No one else knew that you were a nervous flyer and you preferred to keep it that way. Even though it was something simple, you were still embarrassed.

Once you guys got to the airport the nerves got even worse. Because of the pandemic you guys had to wear mask and you also had sunglasses on, so it was hard for people to recognize you guys. Rudy helped you carry your bag into the airport and then guided you to TSA. “Have you ever been in an airport?” Rudy asked whispering in your ear so no one could hear. “Uh once when I was little with my mom. We had to pick up my grandma.” You responded. Your eyes darted around to all the people and different screens and you started to get overwhelmed. Rudy could sense that you were started to get anxious and put a hand at the small of your back pulling you closer to him. “We’ll get checked in and then go get some air, okay?” He explained grabbing his passport and paperwork. You pulled yours out of your purse and laughed when he saw that you had everything in a little Ziploc baggy. “Alright, that’s the most mom-like thing I’ve ever seen” he said.

 Rudy helped you get through the process of security and then you guys were about to go outside when Elaine spoke up, “where are you guys going?” She asked almost annoyed of you guys leaving. “Y/N/N and I are going to find the bathroom. Safety in numbers.” Rudy fibbed, pulling you along. Once you guys got outside the two of you sat on a bench close enough to your gate that you wouldn’t have to rush when your flight got called. Rudy watched your body relax a bit when you weren’t stuck inside.

 “It’s going to be okay Y/N/N.” Rudy spoke pulling you to sit on the bench with him. “I know, I know.” You said half trying to convince yourself. “I’ll be next to you the whole time, and we can just talk, or you can read your book. It’ll be over before you know it.” He spoke and put a hand on your shoulder, and he could feel your breathing increase. He knew what was happening, you were about to have an anxiety attack, “okay Y/N, you need to take a deep breath.” He rubbed small circles on your back. “I can’t do this Rudy; I can’t be in that death box for over 11 hours.” You spoke and your voice starts to shake. You look over at Rudy and he’s got a concerned look on his face. He takes your face in his hands forcing you to look at him, “you’re going to be okay Y/N, I’m going to be with you the whole time. Nothing is going to happen, just please take a deep breath.” He spoke firmly but you could feel the softness of his hands. “You promise?” “Of course, I would never let anything bad happen to you.” You nodded your hands in his grip, but he didn’t let go and you could feel his hot breath on your face. Rudy was looking into your eyes and then his eye flicked down to your lips and you could feel yourself getting nervous again but this time it wasn’t the flight, but because of how close Rudy was too you.

 Rudy leaned in closer, and you let your eye flutter shut. You felt Rudy gently place his lips on top of yours and you pushed yourself closer to him to deepen the kiss. It that moment it felt like you were on cloud nine, as if it were only you and Rudy left in the world. Rudy pulled away and left you smiling like and idiot. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while now.” He whispered, and you kissed him again. “Me too.” The two of you giggled and then heard your flight get called. “Just remember, I’m here the whole time.”

When the two of you got back to the gate the others had already boarded expect for Elaine. When Rudy saw her, you could feel his grip on your hand tighten. “There you guys are, what took so long?” She asked seeming annoyed. “The just called for the flight, we’re not that late.” You spoke up, and Elaine rolled her eyes at you. “I saved you spot next to me Rudy, Y/N can sit next to Madison.” She explained pulling at Rudy’s arm. “Uh that’s okay, Y/N is kind of nervous so I said I would sit with her.” He explained trying not to be rude. Elaine scuffed, and the three of you boarded the plane. You were sat right behind Maddie, JD and Elaine, “here take the window seat, it’ll make it easier on you.” He said stepping to the side so you could get in. The flight attendant was giving the inflight instructions, explaining how to put the oxygen masks on and your leg started to shake. Rudy noticed and put his hand on your thigh, “it’s okay, they have to explain all this stuff Y/N/N.” He whispered in your ear kissing your cheek. You nodded in confirmation and soon enough the pilot was getting the plane ready for take off.

As the plane started to gain speed and lift in the air you watched out the window, and Rudy got you a drink of water for the flight. You guys had been flying for about an hour and you were looking out the window but Rudy’s grip on your thigh never left. He was talking to JD, when you guys hit some turbulence. You jumped and clung onto Rudy’s hand, “nervous flyer Y/L/N?” JD asked not missing the way you reacted. “I don’t know why she would take a job like this if she’s scared of flying. Kind of stupid if you ask me.” Elaine piped in making you feel embarrassed. “It’s not stupid Elaine, everyone is scared of something.” Rudy said defending you. “It’s fine babe, just a bit of turbulence.” He said and you blushed at the nickname. “Can we listen to music or something, I think I just need a distraction.” You asked, and Rudy pulled out his headphones.

“Thanks.” You spoke, not really knowing what to say to him, “I owe you big time.” Rudy laughed, “it’s no problem. When we get to Barbados you can self isolate with me if you want.” He responded. “I hope I’m not being to forward, but I’ve had a crush on you for a while now, and I’m going to assume you feel the same for me.” He explained. You did have feelings for Rudy, you always had but you kept your distance because you thought he had a thing for Elaine. “I would love too self isolate with you. it would be much better then doing it alone.” You said leaning in to kiss him. “And yes, I like you too.”

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