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2jaeh · 3 years

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INSUFFERABLE l KIM DOYOUNG

GENRE: mature theme, slight smut

WARNINGS: choking, dom themes, cursing

asshole! Doyoung , enemies to ???

Words : 4k

You’re put in a group project with the most annoying pretentious jerk your law class had to offer. Immediately Doyoung tries to boss you around but you being you, you weren’t taking his shit...soon enough he finds out he can dominate you after all...in a very different way.

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“Theres no fucking way...no fucking way” you groaned looking at your group project list, eyes narrowing on possibly the worst people within your course year. Slumping in your seat you half smiled at the girl who approached you, one of your fellow members from project hell.

“Heyyy y/n I think we're in a group together” she grinned and took a seat next to you, flipping her red hair over her shoulder and checked herself out in her mirror covered cellphone.

Dami was probably the most narcissistic person you'd ever met and being in law, it was definitely a common trait around here. Dami sat up and began tapping you on your shoulder frantically “He’s in our group! Kim Doyoung is in our group” the two of you watched as the dark haired man conversed with the lecturer, casually turning back to look at the table where you guys sat, in annoyance.

“That guy is such a prick” a guy who slid in the desk behind you, Seungmin said and Dami nodded in agreeance as you all continued to watch him.

“Ive never really spoken to him before” you cocked your head, “What’s so annoying about him?”

This time another group member joined in, a quieter girl who normally sat in the back Jisoo, cleared her throat, “He is really bossy and only likes to do things his own way.”

‘Well he is about to meet his worst nightmare’ you thought knowing nothing pissed you off more than someone telling you what to do.

The muffled conversations around you began to soften as you felt someone stand over you and drop a file on your desk. Looking up, you locked eyes with the one and only Kim Doyoung, dressed in his usual black slacks, black turtleneck and clear rimmed spectacles. He raised his eyebrow at you as if you were supposed to guess what he wanted.

“What ?” you challenged him, folding your arms across your chest and returned an eyebrow raise.

Doyoung sighed in annoyance, his long slender fingers moved across the file and opened it swiftly, “I want you to do roll call” he said coldly.

A lump formed in your throat. You felt like you were being talked down to, it was something that infuriated the hell out of you. He wasn't older than you, nor was he getting better grades than you but somehow he had a superiority complex. Dami quickly nudged you and you rolled your eyes, “Seungmin ?”

“Here!”

“Jisoo ?” you placed a tick as you called out each name.

“Dami, Jangjun…?” you looked around and noticed that the usually loud comedic relief in your classroom was nowhere to be seen.

“I think Jangjun is late, i’ll text him” Seungmin sighed and pulled out his phone. You turned back to the roll call sheet and pursed your lips, “Kim Doyoung ?”

Doyoung just looked down at you, sucking in his bottom lip and raised that damn eyebrow at you again.

“You need to say ‘here’ do you not know how roll call works ?” you tested him and he rolled his eyes and sighed, “here.”

You smiled to yourself, completely satisfied with pissing him off when your internal celebration was interrupted by an out of breath Jangjun, who threw his bag on the floor and took a seat on Dami’s desk. Doyoung looked at him disgustingly, and even though you too were obviously annoyed by Jangjun’s tardiness, was that reaction really necessary ?

“Be on time” Doyoung sneered and grabbed the roll call file making his way back to the lecturer.

“Fuck Kim Doyoung is in this group ?” Jangjun groaned, sharing the sentiments of the entire meeting. You couldnt believe these were the people you had to work with for the week. It's like you could almost feel an outburst waiting to happen, whether it be from you or Kim Doyoung.

Doyoung returned and took out his phone, not really looking at any of you as he spoke, “we should make a group chat to update each other on work”

The group hastily shared each other's details and Doyoung created the chat and pinned a set of three rules.

The first was the group was strictly to be used for the project, no small talk or any other messages that weren't related to the project. The second rule was that no one talks about the group content in private chats as it will cause confusion among members. Lastly you weren't allowed to message after 9pm unless it was an emergency, a very serious emergency.

“Dang is this the military ?” Jangjun snickered as Seungmin and Dami tried their best to hide their laughs. It was typical of people like Dami and Jangjun to not take anything seriously. Their families were well off and they were just studying just for a piece of paper you call a degree. Doyoung couldn't even hide his annoyance, not like he ever did but he seemed particularly pissed off today.

“Look, just follow the rules and all of you get a free pass and then we never have to speak to each other again” Doyoung spat and made his way to the exit leaving the rest of you in utter shock.

———

The first two days were utter hell as Doyoung tried to take control of almost every aspect of the project and frankly you didn't even mind because his business proposal was flawless, it was just the way he spoke to all of you that drove you insane.

“Dami its not fucking rocket science all you need to do is make a clientele spreadsheet with the mock list the professor gave us” Doyoung didnt even lift his head from his laptop, unaware of the impact his words had on her.

Dami pushed away from the desk and her eyes began to well up and before you knew it she was running out of the library, with Jisoo and Seungmin following quickly out of concern.

“Nice move asshole” you rolled your eyes, continuing to work on your laptop.

Doyoung peered up and pushed his spectacles up, “what was that?”

“I said nice move asshole, do you intend to talk to your future clients like that?” He initiated a different kind of anger from you but you managed to keep your cool. Doyoung shrugged as if what he had said to Dami had not carried any weight and continued typing away.

A few minutes of the members disappearance quickly turned to an hour and Doyoung’s nonchalance about the whole ordeal really ticked you off to the point of slamming your laptop closed and pushed back from the desk.

Doyoung quirked his eyebrow at you, “Is something wrong ?”

“Is something wrong” you mimicked him, “Jangjun hasn't come in today because you sent him on multiple errands, and you just made Dami cry over something so ridiculous”

Doyoung sat back in his seat and rubbed his temples, “They're all freeloaders, you and I are the only ones doing work, why do you care so much about them?”

“Basic human fucking decency maybe?” you groaned and ran your fingers through your hair, “listen im not like them, i'm not gonna take shit from you”

“Sure”

“Youre a fucking asshole Kim Doyoung.”

—-

You lay in bed and replayed that scene with Doyoung in your head multiple times. He was so unbothered by your antics nor did he care about anyone's feelings within the group. He was cold, heartless all he thought about was himself. His cold expression was practically engraved in your head, spending all these hours with him was really not your favourite pastime.

Group 7 gc 7:00pm

KDY: I posted a schedule for tomorrow we will be working in pairs on the highlighted sections.

You took a look at his document and groaned when you saw your name placed next to his. There was no way, no way in hell you want to work with him one on one. Not caring about breaking his rule, you pulled up a private chat with him and began expressing your concerns.

y/n x KDY : 7:10pm

Y/N: Hi, there's no fucking way in hell am I working with you. Change It.

KDY: I said no private chats and no, I'm not changing it.

Y/N: Wouldn't it be better for us to split and have the others actually DO work for once ?

KDY: I barely gave them room for error, we're going to be the most anyway and besides, I'd prefer someone who can handle...my personality.

Y/N: …..so you agree..you are an asshole ?

KDY: I give people a reality check that's all..

Y/N: whatever makes you sleep at night...can I atleast choose our work venue because If I were stuck in a library again with you I might kill you.

KDY: haha..

KDY: sure.

Y/N: mango drop cafe, 10am.

KDY: cool, see you then.

‘Haha’. You had no idea why that text in particular riled you up. Did he find all of this amusing ? Was he making everyone's life a living hell because he enjoyed it ? You stared at his messages and somehow ended up on his profile picture. He was leaning against a railing dressed in all black with his hooded eyes concentrated on the camera lense, Your realization of how attractive he was came from the fact that you stared at the picture for a good 20 minutes. You wondered who took the picture, a girlfriend maybe ? You shook your head. He seemed too uptight to be getting laid. You sighed, closing your phone and awaited yet another day with the insufferable gorgeous man that was Kim Doyoung.

You arrived quite early at the cafe but of course Doyoung was here before you, already typing away at his laptop, in his usual attire. You greeted the barista and placed an order for a chilled cafe latte before making your way over to him.

“Hey” you said simply and took a seat opposite him in the booth. Doyoung’s ears perked up at the sound of your voice and made room for your books on the table.

“You're here early”

“You're already picking a fight with me?” you said casually setting up your workspace.

Doyoung chuckled under his breath and shook his head, “I just didn't expect you this early y/n it's not that serious.”

You ignored his words and got straight to work, not in the mood to play his little game. You felt Doyoung look at you a few times. You weren't sure if it were to check if youre doing the right thing or he was just looking at you.

“Well i'm done with my part” you stretched your arms above your head and yawned.

“Yeah I'm pretty much done too, Do you want another cup of coffee ?” Doyoung offered pointing to your empty cup. You were taken back by his softer demeanor but quickly nodded, “uh yeah sure.”

Doyoung returned carrying a tray of two fresh cups of coffee and a slice of cheesecake. Setting everything down he handed you the extra fork and placed the cheesecake in the middle of the table to make it easier to share.

“H-how much do I owe you ?” You fumbled in your bag for your wallet.

“It's okay, it's my treat” Doyoung replied, placing a piece of cheesecake in his mouth and slowly licking the fork clean. You gulped as his tongue darted out carefully licking the cream from the metal, not leaving any residue behind. You had no idea what the hell was going on but you felt hot, almost claustrophobic.

“You're okay?” Doyoung asked innocently, unaware of what he was doing to you.

“Why are you being...nice?” You questioned, knitting your eyebrows together as the man continued to act as if this was his usual behavior.

Doyoung pursed his lips and placed the fork on the plate, “You want me to be mean to you?”

“No I just don't get-”

“I apologized to Dami and she told me she only overreacted because the guy she likes, Seungmin was there” Doyoung explained and removed his spectacles, “she was embarrassed to ask anyone for help, I paired them up for today.”

“Wait wha-”

“Also Jangjun works at the campus radio” Doyoung continued, “I had only found out the day we all met, I gave him tasks that will allow him more flexibility, that way he doesn't have to join group sessions often.”

You blinked, unable to form any words in order to reply to Doyoung. Especially after he chuckled at your speechlessness, knowing you didn't bother getting his side of the story at first.

“You were right y/n I dont have to be an asshole all the time, I just like to get my work done” He shrugged. You kept eye contact with him but somehow it felt as if he were still toying with you, waiting on your next reaction. He seemed like he played this game often, making sure he always had the upper hand. Doyoung seemed relaxed as he stared at you, taking another scoop of the cheesecake and slowly ran his tongue over his lips after his bite. What the fuck was he doing ?

“Y/N ?” you heard a familiar voice come from the entrance of the cafe. Your attention diverted from Doyoung to the blonde haired boy who began approaching your table.

“Jungwoo ? oh my God what are you doing here ?” You stood up and pulled him into a tight hug and pecked his cheek. Doyoung shifted awkwardly in his seat as he watched your exchange with the stranger.

“I got off early from class about to go to Subway, are you still doing that group project thing?” Jungwoo looked over at your table and half smiled at Doyoung who tried to distract himself with his phone.

“Uh yeah but i'm all done here I think, wanna hang out ?” you hooked arms with Jungwoo as he nodded enthusiastically. You turned around and scratched the back of your head,

“So...uh”

“Were all done you can go, I have somewhere to be anyway” Doyoung smiled as you slowly began packing up your things.

“Alright, see you tomorrow I guess” you bid your goodbye and headed out for lunch with Jungwoo.

—-

You had just finished up your skincare routine and caught up with a few instagram posts when you noticed Doyoung had followed you. Sitting up in bed you scrolled through his feed curiously. Every post was aesthetically pleasing and he looked absolutely hot in every single one of them. He had to have a girlfriend right ? No guy posts pictures this good without women flooding his DMs.

There was no harm in doing the same since he was in your class, you decided to return the follow and close the app. Suddenly your phone vibrated with a new message in your chats.

Y/N X KDY 10:30pm

KDY: hey

Y/N: aren't you breaking two of your rules right now ?

KDY: haha

KDY: I didn't realize what time it was…

Y/N: ….anyways..is this about work at least ?

KDY: kinda… you left one of your books at the cafe. I have it with me.

Y/N: oh… thank you.

KDY: no prob...oh I hope its not a problem I added you on ig

Y/N: no its okay we are friends I guess

KDY: haha I thought I was the insufferable asshole..

Y/N: you are...but not all the time. Look im sorry for saying shitty things about you.

KDY: its all good.

KDY: …….

Y/N: ..whats up?

You twirled your fingers as you watched the three dots from Doyoung pop up and disappear over and over again. What was taking him so long ?

KDY: that guy….that you met at the cafe..is he your boyfriend ?

Y/N: Jungwoo ? no way we've been friends since high school.

KDY: oh..

Y/N:....why would you even ask that ?

KDY: curious.

Y/N: curious about who I'm dating ??

KDY: A little.

You frowned at your phone and noticed Doyoung had changed his profile picture to a selfie. The picture was..something alright. You bit down on your lip as you enlarged the picture, which showed a wet haired Doyoung with his head resting in his palm and his long index finger was placed between his plump lips.

“Fuck y/n get yourself together” you gave yourself a pep talk before opening his chat back up again.

Y/N X KDY 10.54PM

Y/N: fine if you can ask a question can I ask one..

KDY: go ahead

Y/N: who do you keep thirst trapping for ?

KDY: ….haha thirst trapping ?

Y/N: Yeah who do keep posting these hot pics for huh

KDY: …..

KDY: You think i'm hot ?

Fuck. Why did you word it that way. You groaned immediately regretting sending that message but something in you was so curious about him you decided to just risk it, what was the worst that could happen ?

Y/N: well yeah, I mean I'm sure everyone thinks you're attractive, you seem to know it too.

KDY: wow.

KDY: I think you're hot too.

What the hell was going on. You felt your face heat up and you placed your pillow in between your legs as you turned on your side.

KDY: I was almost disappointed when I thought Jungwoo was your boyfriend, he's way too passive.

Y/N: ...and what makes you think you know what kind of man I need ?

KDY: hmmm

KDY: first of, with that fucking attitude of yours..A dominate one.

You swallowed hard as you felt a tingle in your stomach, squeezing your thighs together on the pillow to create more friction.

Y/N: I could say the same for you.

KDY: You may think youre dominate in many aspects...but when it comes to fucking..im the one in charge.

God you hated how hot that sounded. He had you in the palm of his hand through text. You were a mess and he wasn't even the room to fuel it. You wanted him so fucking bad it was insane.

Y/N: running your mouth doesn't equate to doing it you know...

KDY:.....

KDY: then would you like me to show you ?

Everything happened so damn fast. One minute you two were texting the next minute you were sharing your apartment location and Doyoung was on his way over. You scrambled to put on sexier underwear and do your hair, still in shock by the fact that Doyoung was on his way over to bang you.

You jumped when you heard the doorbell and realized it was him. Opening the door you were greeted to a very different look of Doyoung. His hair was messy and reached his eyes. Instead of his usual black academic attire he wore a loose white vest that showed off his toned chest and arms, along with a pair of grey sweatpants.

“Hi” Doyoung smirked, his eyes were dark as he scanned your figure.

“Hi” you responded, leaning against the wall in the hallway and looked up at him. Doyoung slowly approached you, like a lion circling its prey. His slender fingers danced lightly along your body, drawing a line from your waist until he found your throat and wrapped his cold fingers around it. He bit down on his lip as he studied how perfectly his hand looked around it and squeezed gently, smirking after hearing a soft moan emit from you.

“I want you to do as I say, any back chat from you will get you punished you got that ?” he brought his lips down to your neck and exhaled.

You nodded in response but that wasn't good enough for Doyoung. You felt his squeeze on your throat once more and he used his hips to pin you against the wall, “use your words” he gritted his teeth.

“Yes sir” you replied obediently, and felt him smile against your neck.

“Good girl, and if i'm too rough let me know so I can stop okay ?” he replied, his voice changed and it was much sweeter and genuine than before. He placed a soft kiss on your cheek when you nodded and led you to the bed.

Doyoung lay you on the bed, already stripping off his shirt and ordered you to undress yourself and rid him off his sweatpants. You bit down on your lip taking notice of how aroused he was when you palmed his member.

Doyoung watched you through hooded eyes as you discarded his sweatpants and boxers. He softly patted your head and grabbed a tuft of your hair in order to make you look up at him.

“Spit” he ordered, and held out his hand and you did as you were told. You watched as he lathered himself with it, moaning as he stroked himself. He was so damn sexy, biting down on lip and slowly pleased himself as you watched.

“Do you want this inside you sweetheart ?” he cooed and placed a finger under chin.

You nodded quickly, “Yes please”

“What do you want me to do baby ?” He purred and hovered over you as you lay on the bed, breathing heavily as his fingers moved against your warm skin, tracing your curves, ghosting over your heat and returning back to your lips to insert a digit inside.

Doyoung watched diligently as you sucked on his finger like the good girl he knew you were. He finally pulled his finger out and with one swift movement entered with his member before you could even respond to his question. You moaned as he quickly slammed his hips into yours, wasting no time in gaining a rhythm as you marked his back with scratch marks feeling as though you were on a high.

Doyoung fucked you like a pro, wasting no time to switch positions and had you on all fours, slapping your ass before slamming into you again, that pretentious smirk forming on his face as he heard your whimpers asking him for more.

“Are you ready to cum sweetheart ?” he asked, pulling you up as his strokes became slower and tugged on your ear with his teeth.

“Y-yes yes i'm ready” you panted.

“What's the magic word ?” he growled as he grabbed your throat and slowed down his pace as you were nearing your climax.

“Fuck youre so annoying PLEASE, please let me cum Doyoung fuck”

Doyoung chuckled and picked up his pace until you finally climaxed and he followed shortly after, collapsing in the bed next to you.

“You have such an attitude God” he rolled his eyes playfully, bringing the blanket over your bodies and grinned when you moved in to cuddle him.

“I guess you will have to fix that some time” you yawned and wrapped your arm around his waist, “but I have to admit, maybe I do enjoy the insufferable Kim Doyoung bossing me around once in a while.”

#doyoung smut #nct doyoung smut #nct smut #nct127 smut #kim dongyoung #nct scenarios #NCT127 scenario #doyoung fic #doyoung au #kpop smut #nct drabble #nct angst #nct au #doyoung scenarios

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unprofessional-bard · 3 years

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Don't Push It, Pt. 1

Unprofessional Bard's Masterlist

Part 2 (1/2)

Based on this request.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female!Reader

Warnings: Age gap (the reader is 26 and Joel is 53), a lot of teasing/sexual tension, implied romantic feelings.

Summary: It's been going on for years. They both know better than to act on their feelings, but patience starts running thin when a few boundaries are crossed.

Word Count: 5.280

Author's Note: Okay y'all so I am a whore for Joel with long hair and I unintentionally made this into a fix-it au where Joel is alive. Also, the reader is going to have some OC characteristics to fit the scenario better. Finally, this fic changes POV's a lot, so I'm gonna clear that up:

• ----R and below: The reader's POV.

• ----J and below: Joel's POV.

• ----B and below: Both POV's.

The fic starts off with Joel's POV.

Enjoy!

gif credits: nikolai-stavrogin

"Hey, Joel," Dina called over to the man sipping coffee on his porch.

"Mornin' Dina," He replied as his daughter's girlfriend walked over to him. Her baby bump had grown a little more and it never failed to put a smile on Joel's face.

"There's a little trouble with the patrol today," She said. "Jesse won't be able to make it to patrol with (Y/N)."

Shit.

"And they're askin' me to fill in?" He sat up a little.

"Yup, Maria told me to ask you if-"

"No problem, sure, I'll do it." He spoke nonchalantly, then asked if Jesse was alright. Dina told him she wasn't sure, that it must be something important for him to miss patrol, which made Joel nod: "You told (Y/N) too, or...?"

"No, but she's gonna be there regardless. I doubt that she knows."

"Alright, thanks Dina," Joel got up and she smiled in return before walking over to Ellie's place.

It was wrong. By the lord it was wrong, but he couldn't help it. You were fierce, confident, determined and disciplined; qualities he came to appreciate in time, but a bit differently only when it came to you. He shouldn't want you, an unknown source in his mind kept telling himself, but he did. He didn't know why, he never found himself being attracted to a woman your age, yet you had him under your spell. Oh the things you did to him...

Worst part was, he couldn't have you, whether he liked it or not. Nevermind the fact that you were too young for him, you probably didn't want him anyways- despite the crystal clear signals he got from you. It was just how you were, though: A little physical and perhaps a little flirty, but he could just be confusing that with your confidence.

Or he could be overthinking everything.

Joel readied his backpack, but realised there was still a little more than an hour before the rendez-vous, so he decided to head over to your place to tell you about the news to kill some time. After he made it there and knocked on your door while calling your name a couple of times, which were left unanswered, your neighbour curiously looked over the fences and called over to Joel: "She left a while ago... For the gym, I think."

"Thank you," Joel smiled politely and earned a wave from the lady in return. He took his time as he walked over to the gym. After he arrived, he looked around for awhile to spot where you were, but when he found it, the sight almost made him choke.

There you were, ankles crossed as you pulled yourself up and chin over the barfix with closed eyes, a frown and a clenched jaw. Sweat laced the sides of your face and Joel's eyes wandered lower: You were wearing a sports bra and matching shorts which hugged your frame tightly and the sun was shining directly onto your muscles, which the lord himself carved out and were also sweaty, but Joel didn't care - it made you look more attractive, if anything. You let out a huff and lowered yourself down, while he tried to collect himself. He didn't want to disturb you so he decided to wait until you finished...

...but you didn't seem to be finishing any time soon. He didn't want to look like a creep as he stood there and waited, so after you did another pull up and let yourself down, he cleared his throat.

----R

"(Y/N), here you are."

Had you not been already hanging, you definitely would've fell when you heard Joel's voice reach your ears. You opened your eyes to see him slowly approach you, his stupid thumb stuck in behind his stupid belt.

You hated it: You hated finding this man attractive and you hated your guts for occasionally flirting with him - him, who probably would never look at you the way you looked at him. He liked you, of course, he enjoyed your company but not the way you wanted him to. You hated that you had a crush on this man, who became even more gorgeous as he let his hair grow over the last few years, you also hated how he neatly parted it to the left.

Patrol with him was both a treat and a curse at the same time. You got to spend time with him, which made it a treat, but when you watched him- saw him in action, how aggressive he was, heat started to pool between your thighs. He was so rough and precise as he was smart; he always knew what to do under any circumstance, so you almost never worried when you went out with him. He made you feel safe, praised you and played with your heart when he responded to your flirting and nothing came out of it.

You hated it because your little "crush" on him was pathetic, for someone as confident as you. Sure, you teased and flirted with him, but one praise as simple as you did well today and you'd be melting on spot. You even tried to get with other people to distract yourself, to no avail. They weren't Joel.

None of them could ever be Joel.

"Good morning!" You said with a high pitched voice, reflecting your struggle to keep yourself up.

"To you too," He chuckled at your state and watched as you pulled yourself up slowly. "Hey, listen. Jesse ain't gonna make it to patrol today so I'm fillin' in for him."

----B

The way you faltered a little didn't escape him: "Why? Is he okay?"

"I dunno, but I'm sure he is. Something important must've come up," Joel informed you, not wanting to worry you as you seemed to care about him. A lot. Ugh.

"Tsk," You breathed out and closed your eyes to focus on keeping your head above the metal bar.

Joel then spoke again: "Yeah, I was just here to let ya know."

"Okay, well-" You exhaled audibly and suddenly let yourself go. The force of the action sent you flying a little and it almost made you bump into him: "Woah, oh, sorry-"

"Woah there," You both chuckled at the same time. Joel held you by your elbows to help you balance yourself and your heart rate picked up pace when you realised how close your face was to his chest a moment ago - the chest you wanted to get your hands on: How muscular was he? How many scars did he have there? How would it feel to run your fingers through the hair as you ro-

"Uhm, yeah, as I was saying," You snapped yourself back to reality and took a small step back, disappointed by the way his fingers let go of your arms: "I'm done here, just need to do a couple of stretches, then head back and take shower."

"Right. Well, I'll see you at the gate, then?"

"Uh, sure, yeah."

You didn't know what else to say other than stay. You wanted him near you and around you, you wanted to show off to him and you wanted his attention, so you had to think quick.

Joel didn't want to leave either, even though you were going to spend the whole day together. He still nodded and turned around to leave. It was then, when a brilliant idea crossed your mind: "Actually, Joel?" He turned around, gave you a soft look that made you want to run up to him and kiss all over his face. "Could you help me with my stretches?"

If he'd been drinking or eating anything, he most definitely would've choked: "Help you?"

"Yeah," You flashed a smile at him. "It's simple, you just gotta press me down and keep me in place." The widening of his eyes, puzzled face and his tense posture made you shy. "Eh- Normally, Jesse helped me with them."

True. Some stretches required someone to push your body to its limits - when you worked out alone, you stuck to simpler stretches, but right now, you needed a reason to have him by your side.

Joel was torn between leaving, like a responsible person who knew when to walk away would. He was responsible, yes, but his moral compass was thrown out of the window whenever you joined the picture. So far, he wanted to think he was handling his emotions well- by not acting on them and not talking about them.

Now, however, it was as if he was facing the last straw. He had a few boundaries left to cross, and this was one of them.

"Plus, I'm a bit tired to do them. Will you help me?"

Lies. All lies.

You'd been doing these stretches for long enough, even though you'd worked hard, you weren't tired at all. Joel thought this to be the case, so he tried to go around it: "You sure? I mean, how're you tired?"

"I've been training like hell this morning," You settled on the mat. "I don't wanna do these stretches, but I have to. I'm not in the mood to pull a muscle today."

That was good enough for him really: "'Kay," He sighed. "What do you need me to do?"

Your eyes glowed in excitement before you faced forward and explained: "Im gonna lean forward, like this-" You extended your legs forward and lowered yourself down. "All you gotta do is press on my back and stop me from moving away for a few seconds."

A few seconds which felt like five minutes, truth be told.

As soon as he touched your bare back, you sighed, then forced it into a hiss. He immediately retreated his hands, thinking he hurt you, pushing the ludicrous idea that you might have moaned away immediately.

His hands were big and a little cold comparing to your skin which was on fire after the workout, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't do that on purpose. You straightened up and looked at him with an innocent smile: "Your hands are cold."

Not cold enough to make you react like that, obviously.

Joel offered an awkward chuckle from the back of his throat: "You're gonna have to deal with it, missy."

And deal with it you did- barely. Christ, that was a bad idea, your worst one yet. To have his hands on your bare skin, pressing you down made your cheeks burn and mouth hang open as he kept you in place. You almost didn't hear him when he spoke, too busy trying to comprehend the size of his hands and how they'd feel around your throa-

"How many of these do you gotta do?"

"Uh, dunno," You blurted out. "Not too many."

Joel was partly glad, it felt so wrong yet it was just a simple act of help you could've asked from anyone. After 20 seconds of staying like that, you straightened. You went into a head-to-knee position and gave him an okay to press you down again.

You switched to the other leg after half a minute, but you were running out of ideas. There weren't any positions left that you could use his help with, so you played one last card to ruin him: "More."

"W-What?"

Good riddance.

"Press a little harder," You pretended to focus and tried your best not to smirk, knowing you had him where you wanted.

"Oh- hm," He cleared his throat and pressed a little more down on your back. If your plan hadn't backfired and made you almost moan through your teeth, everything was going accordingly.

Joel went to pull back, but stopped when you added: "It's been a while since I did these..."

Christ.

"That enough?" He slowly retreated his hands and stood up, watching you lean up where you sat.

"Yup, that'll be it," You smiled and blinked a couple of times. If Joel had known better, he would've thought you were making him do that, then being all cute on purpose-

It was going to be a long day.

----R

Patrol with the older Miller went as normally as it always was. Part one usually went like this: Meet up at the gate, get your rifles and horses, ride out, reach checkpoint one and sign your names. The road to checkpoint one didn't have any trouble, it usually never did. It was more quiet between you two than usual though. Had you gone too far?

"So, uh," You said once the two of you mounted your horses again. "You coming to the dance tonight?"

"What?" He snapped his head in your direction, looking clueless. "What dance?"

"Well, not a dance exactly but- you know what I mean?" You started riding. "The adults only event?"

He looked really distracted, a bit tense even: "Oh, right. You know those ain't my thing."

"I know," You nodded with a soft smile. "But I haven't seen you in any event ever since you decked Seth."

"Decked?" Joel chuckled bitterly at the memory.

"He deserved it, and more, that prick," You rolled your eyes, making him chortle.

"And nobody managed to shut up about it for the whole month," He sighed with a gorgeous yet tired smile on his face which you managed to see just in time. "So, no thanks. I'll pass."

"Aw, come on," You whined. "You can't avoid coming to these events forever. Please?"

He gave you a confused look, his smile slowly disappearing but not in a bad way: "Why?"

A good question. Oh, no reason, just wanna try and make a move on you, quite possibly jump your bones if it all goes well.

"I wanna make sure you haven't lost your ability to socialise." You offered.

"Really? Why, you're my momma now?"

"Ew, no," You both laughed. "Can't I be sure my friend is alive and well occasionally?"

----J

Friend.

A word that made Joel stop and think.

You saw him as a friend, huh? Two people, with clear sexual tension and an obvious age gap between them- Friends was an awkward description for him, but it was better than nothing.

He opened his mouth to reply, to insist that he was indeed alive and well, but you stopped him: "You know what I mean."

The conversation was making him a little distracted, he noticed, so he decided to keep his mouth shut until you reached checkpoint two. You didn't press him on, which was also a delight. That's another thing he liked about you: You knew your bounds- in patrol anyways. Or maybe it was because you got to know him well over the time, knew what he liked or not.

Part two went quieter too- infected and conversation wise. Not even a single runner was on sight as you swept through the small cabins and houses. Except for the occasional clear's and nothing here's, you didn't say anything else. Joel itched to talk to you, about anything to break the silence, but he was too lost in thought.

When you finally made it back to Jackson, you finally spoke up: "So? You coming?" He chuckled, mostly out of relief, then you added: "I found a new outfit, I wanna know what you think."

That caught Joel's attention. With a curious smile, after handing over your horses, he asked: "What outfit?"

"You'll see... If you come." You smirked, your close proximity making Joel's heart race.

"Don't get your hopes up," He sighed with a small grin and tucked his thumb behind his belt, the other one gripping the strap of his rifle.

"You're the worst," You punched his shoulder with mock upset, making him chortle and stumble a little to the right. "Anyways, I'll see you tomorrow then."

Joel remained quiet, then you walked away with a soft smile gracing your lips. The words sunk deeper than he would've liked, a sudden wave of guilt soaking his guts with regret, even though you didn't sound disappointed or upset. Lips pursed, he watched you hand your rifle to Peter and sign off, then leave; his steps coming to a halt as you did.

He just might check out what was up at the dance tonight, if he could successfully move himself out of his comfort zone in the following few hours.

----R

"Well well, look who it is," Tommy grinned when you approached the doors of the pub. The night had settled across the sky by the time you stepped outside your place. The sound of music and chatter of the people from inside filled your ears.

"Yours truly," You smirked. "It's crowded in there huh?"

"It sure is," Tommy said as he turned around to lead you inside. "Adults only events tend to attract more people, as y'can guess. Don't you look pretty today."

"Why thank you." You smiled playfully: "For no one, but myself, at that."

You lied through your teeth. You had dressed up in the silly hope that Joel would actually show up. You had been planning on it ever since you came across the item wrapped around your hips in an abandoned clothes shop a few weeks ago, and this event was the perfect excuse for you to wear it. For him.

"I ain't sayin' nothing!" Tommy raised his hands up in defense. "Figured that much, haven't seen anyone catch your interest in a long time."

Ha. Nice.

The atmosphere was lively and the air was warm, full of energy. Chatter and dancing went about the packs of people scattered across the space, but you couldn't see Joel, much to your disappointment - you weren't surprised though. What surprised you was Jesse suddenly showing up.

"Where's Ellie and Dina?" You asked after a while of teasing him about missing patrol.

"They decided to stay behind, I guess." He shrugged.

"What can I get y'all?" Tommy smiled, suddenly appearing behind the counter. Without waiting for an answer, he filled two glasses and pushed them towards you. You and Jesse looked at each other for a brief moment, before knocking it back at one go. "Woah there..."

A round of laughter later, you felt someone's presence behind you, then they tapped you on the shoulder: "Hey, (Y/N)!"

Much to your disappointment, once more, it was a boy named Mark. He was a year older than you, had no features whatsoever matching Joel's prettier ones and he took an obvious liking to you, which in truth you didn't appreciate, even though he wasn't weird about it or anything. You faked a smile and turned to him a little: "Hi."

"Good to see you," Sure. "How, uh, how are you?"

"Busy, actually," You pointed at the glass Tommy was refilling for you.

"Mind if I join?" He made himself comfortable on the stool next to you.

"Yeah. I do." Your smile never faded but your words were laced with poison.

He looked between you, Tommy and Jesse, mortified at your answer: "W- Heh, well, would you wanna dance later, then-?"

"No, I don't." You spoke calmly and turned to face Jesse again, only for him to move to tap you on the shoulder, which Tommy stopped from happening.

"Why don't you go home, huh?" He grabbed his wrist firmly, but not hard enough to leave a bruise of course. "The lack of oxygen in your brain's clearly stoppin' you from understandin' a word as simple as no."

You looked over at the younger Miller, a stern look on his face which seemed to make Mark piss himself. Suddenly, an even deeper voice was heard behind the boy: "I advise you to listen to him, son."

You turned completely in your seat to see Joel grabbing Mark by the shoulders, making him jump, then remove him from the seat carefully. Mark's legs were quick to oblige, making him walk towards the exit, but Joel held him in place: "A-ah, what do you say to the lady?"

"I'm s-sorry, (Y/N)," He nodded quickly. "I'll never disturb you again, I promise."

"Good boy," Joel patted him on the back, which sent him running to the door. Your cheeks were suddenly burning and you couldn't help but smile shyly.

"Tsk, what a jackass," Tommy nodded disapprovingly as Joel took the now empty space next to you.

"You decided to show then, huh?" You smirked at Joel.

"Yeah, figured you'd break someone's wrists and make 'em eat it," He chuckled, tipping his head at his brother in a greeting -God he looked so handsome, was that a new shirt?- before he continued: "Decided it'd be a shame to miss it."

You giggled and lightly pushed at his arm, almost immediately feeling the muscles underneath the rolled up sleeve of his blue shirt: "I'll take that as a I came because you asked and I listened for once." The exchange, obviously, didn't go unnoticed by his brother and Jesse, which made you sit upright suddenly: "Tommy was the one who was gonna break his wrist anyways..."

"Nobody gets to disturb anyone here, especially right in front of me," He said and slid a glass to his brother.

Jesse joined in: "I doubt it, but should he ever-"

"Aw, you guys are spoiling me," You grinned and waved your hand down, pressing the other onto your chest.

----J

You looked beautiful. You were wearing a plain, dark green, mid-thigh, flare skirt; which could pass as a miniskirt, but Joel was no fashion expert. You always did come up with the rarest clothing items (like your sports set that morning), so he wasn't surprised that you happened across the skirt. You also had a simple, white, v-neck t-shirt on- which all in all was the reason you left Joel speechless: You could be wearing something as simple as these, but you'd still look so damn pretty.

A few minutes later, after Jesse and Tommy disappeared in different directions and you were finally left alone, Joel spoke up: "Is this the-"

"What made you-" You gave each other a brief look before chuckling: "You go first."

"Ah, I was gonna ask if this was the outfit you wanted me to see," He said, briefly looking down to point at your skirt.

He watched you run a hand through your hair and bite your bottom lip before answering: "Yeah..." You got up and stuffed your hands in your pockets, which made Joel's heart sizzle. "What do you think?"

He gave you a genuine smile: "I think you look beautiful."

The shock on your face made Joel panick a little, but when you offered a shy little smile, he relaxed: "You- Really?"

He gave you a single, slow nod in acknowledgement, his smile grew bigger when you beamed at him and offered him a quiet thank you, then sat back. You were staring hard at your glass, clearly avoiding his gaze and he found it rather cute, but didn't comment on it.

He was looking forward to chat with you, after all, you were the reason why he showed up, but you were unfortunately dragged away by a couple of friends, Jesse included...

To dance.

An upbeat song he didn't recognise started playing, putting you and another boy, Mick, to action. Everyone backed away to give you two space, then started off with what seemed to be something you'd been practicing for a while. You mirrored each other's moves, it was similar to some folk dance he'd watched way before the outbreak, but it most definitely wasn't a folk dance. Your arms linked occasionally, hands on your hips as you crossed each other's legs with fast movements and other types of moves Joel couldn't name if he tried, but it was organised and fun to watch. It wasn't intimate, too, just a silly little dance as you called it minutes later when you finished and walked to the bar for a drink. You didn't stay long, though, just downed your drink, winked at him and went back to the stage where you and Mick (but mostly you) stole the show.

It went on for two more rounds, to the point your t-shirts were absolutely soaked and your legs couldn't take it anymore. Joel had a particularly hard time in his seat, watching your skirt float around your thighs made him feel embarrassed with himself. Tommy even went as far as to tease him about his constant squirming, but a glare from his older brother was enough to shut him up.

The last dance finished off with you in Mick's arms, leaning back in his hold and closing your eyes with laughter. Everyone clapped you both, which earned you a kiss on the cheek from Mick- which you returned. Joel's jaw clenched unintentionally, even though you and him didn't appear to be more than friends.

Stop. Stop it, you idiot.

He couldn't care less about these types of things, drama about who's dating who and whatnot, but when it came to you he naturally grew curious.

He watched you, eyelids struggling to keep themselves open as Jesse led you and helped you onto the stool, next to Joel once more. You huffed and giggled, eyes closed with sweat droplets on your forehead. He couldn't help it when his smile grew wider at your tipsy state.

What he didn't see coming was the sudden hand on his thigh and your back against his arm, letting your head drop onto his shoulder as you let out a brief laugh: "Never let me dance and drink at the same time again."

Joel didn't know what to say, he quickly looked around for Jesse only to find him already gone and a couple of people staring at the both of you. With a rush of panic, he responded: "I don't think I'm the one you should say that to, darlin'."

Your hand and the rest of your body immediately retreated when you jumped at his voice: "Joel?!" You looked a little embarrassed and he couldn't help but smirk. "Uh, where's Jesse?"

The question almost made him scrunch up his face, but he patiently waited until the end of the conversation, which was after you've walked away to find the boy in question and he was alone with his own thoughts... Jealousies...

"He dropped you off and went over there, I think." Joel nodded to the direction he thought Jesse went off to - he didn't see though, he was too busy focusing on you when your fingertips had brushed somewhere dangerously near his crotch.

"Huh," You stared around to find him, but Joel figured you were too intoxicated to actually see that far. "You need to stop wearing the same clothes."

He raised a brow at that: "You tell him that."

"Oh I will," You grinned mischievously and suddenly grabbed Joel's glass of whiskey from his hand, then downed it at one go before he could intervene.

"Hey!" He tried to grab the glass from you but you leaned back. "I think you've had enough for the night."

"Says who-?" You pouted and at the very same time, lost your balance, realising that you leaned a little too back. However, Joel caught you; one hand on your arm, the other on your waist and he pulled you back - he didn't know if you did it purposefully, but you practically fell into his body: "Oh! I'm sorry-" You laughed, not looking sorry at all. "Thanks, Joel," You purred, extending the 's' and the 'l' at the end of each word as you grabbed onto his biceps. "You saved me."

"Pfft," Joel couldn't help but let his hand linger on your waist as he made sure you stood in place. Your eyes met when you lifted your head from his chest - the meaning behind his hazel gaze and your own was similar and it lasted for what felt like a whole minute, while in reality it was no longer than a few seconds.

You finally let his arms go and he took it as his cue to remove his hand from your waist (which, for a moment, felt like it had been glued there): "So... You enjoying yourself, old man?"

Joel sighed through his nose, amused at how the alcohol in your system was slowing your speech, then went back to how he had been sitting before you came. Just when you asked, the smooth, familiar tune of Ain't No Sunshine started playing. After all the excitement, a slower music felt nice: "Sure. You?"

"Oh I sure am," You nodded and leaned back against the counter with something of a triumphant smile.

"I can tell," Joel replied, then without turning his head, side eyed you. His stare later on moved down to your skirt. "Why'd you get all dressed up for, really?"

"Huh?" You blinked, not processing if he was asking what you thought he was.

"I, uh- just never took you for the skirt type."

"Is that so?" You asked, eyes widening. "Well, just trying on a new outfit..." You looked down and bit your lower lip, making Joel's heart skip a beat. He mentally kicked himself for not leaving right then and there and continuing to talk to you: "There's actually another reason."

"Hm?"

"There's this guy," You turned towards him, placed your arm paralleled across his on the counter and leaned forward a little, pretending to look around. His fingertips scratched against the wooden surface of the counter at the mention of this guy in question. "I don't know his name, but maybe you do?"

He just raised a brow when you looked at him innocently: "He's a bit old, around this tall," Your hand went back and forth in the air as you tried to size the man's height in your mind. "Has pretty, long, graying hair with an also graying beard... A little scar on his nose," You looked at him and leaned in a little more, invading his personal space but not touching him, then pointed at the exact spot on your nose and it was then, Joel realised, that you were indeed describing himself. "He's wearing this blue shirt and, honestly, it would look better on him if he opened another button or two."

I know, I know

Hey I oughta leave young thing alone

But ain't no sunshine when she's gone

He wanted to counter, tease you back, lean down and taste your lips, then place a kiss or two on your neck and bite it softly just to hear you moan quietly into his ear- he also needed to get his shit together, as much as he wanted to do all of that.

He couldn't quite believe his self control when he leaned away from you, especially since the tip of your noses almost touched and he felt your hot breath on his lips. He cleared his throat and quickly looked around to see if anyone was looking- no one had seen the rather intimate interaction so he spoke: "I don't know who that is."

The disappointment on your features was like a knife twisting up in his guts. You blinked a couple of times, but didn't lean back: "S- Sure you do..."

"I don't," Joel insisted, his voice stern. "Maybe you should look for someone else."

Your disappointment turned into embarrassment and anger, making you frown and lean back: "Excuse me."

Ain't no sunshine when she's gone

And this house just ain't no home

Anytime she goes away

And with that, you got up and stormed away, leaving Joel wanting, aching and ashamed.

Anytime she goes away

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lymmsweb · 3 years

Note

Eeyy how you doing? Can I please have how Zenitsu wpuld react to a very happy and confident reader having a breakdown and finally telling him how she really feels? Like she finally tells him that she has depression, and she says this line: "I know that I'm the worst, that's why I pretend like I'm fhe best..." it's okay if your not comfortable doing it and thank you! ❤💖

I’m doing somewhat well! Wbu ? <3

You didn't specify if you wanted a fic or hcs, i was listening to Mitski and was like ‘im in the mood to write a fic’....so here we are

Ngl it reminded me of a line of ‘Oh no!’ by Marina and The Diamonds

Zenitsu x f!reader having a mental breakdown

Prompt : “I know that I’m that I’m the worst, that’s why i pretend like I’m the best”

Female reader

Comfort/Angst/Hurt

Headcanons

Zenitsu Agatsuma

Tw: Mental Breakdown (?), Depression (?)

Words : 932

“Y/N?” Zenitsu's worried voice broke through your muffled sobs, your eyes widened as you realising your cries had been way too loud. You tried your best to calm down and keep up your cheery facade like you always did.

“Y/N?” Zenitsu repeated himself, banging lightly on the door separating you two. There was no way that you couldn't hear the concern and worry in his voice. There was no way of getting out of this one, your puffy eyes would give it away.

“Coming just give me a second!” You tried to push your voice over a whisper, wincing at yourself, you're voice cracked. By now he must have known that you were crying. Your heart sunk right then, ‘why should I burden him with my problems?’

As you slowly started to stumble towards the door, you felt like throwing up, you knew that today you would have to tell him. Opening the door, you averted your gaze to the floor, hoping that he wouldn't be able to notice your face.

“Hey.” You didn't dare to speak any louder, you knew that your own voice would betray you.

silence

You were met with silence, all you could hear was your heavy breathing, but you knew that he was there. He was there in front of you. He heard you.

“Y/N, ” Zenitsu said softly, reaching out to your hand “take it from me, I know when people are crying.” Letting him take into his own, feeling like if you tried to push him away you would burst into tears again. “Can...i come in.” It wasn't a question, he was coming in, it was simply a statement. You stood there frozen as he started to walk into your room, dragging you in behind him.

“Babe-” The warmth of his hand disappeared, it seemed like he held it for ages. You finally raised your head, instantly you two locked eyes. Shame washed over you, ‘why should he have to deal with me at my worst?’ He flashed comforting smile your way, a sense of security washed over you, he patted the space next to him on your bed. He was silently inviting you to sit with him, and tell him everything.

“Zenitsu-”

“Y/N, come and talk, please.”

‘I’ve have managed to keep up this confident, cheery, loveable image, so why was it now that you were gonna open up?’

“Even if it's just something very minor, you can tell me anything.”

As you stood there, tears started to paint your cheeks, trying to regain your composure. It was this boy who managed to tear down your walls, the mask that you put on - he was able to see right through it.

You always tried to be this cheery, confident person that anyone could rely on. Even though you were surrounded by Tanjiro and the gang, family, everyone, you could not help but feel lonely. This wasn't you, you weren't like this, everyone loved this other person that's personality inhabited your body. Never-ever have you opened up to someone about this, but he would still love you. Right?

He noticed your crying form, it broke his heart that he hadn't noticed the stress that something was putting on you. Zenitsu bolted from the bed and embraced you. Resting his chin on your body, rubbing small circles on your trembling body as he let you cry on him.

“Th-This isn't me!” you managed to choke out “This isn't my personality, I don't act like this alone.” Zenitsu stayed in that position, not saying a word. “I’ve been trying to be an unrealistic version of myself, I can't be myself. I've noticed how everyone else is so happy, at times I feel genuine happiness when I'm with the ones I love, but as soon as I'm alone I realise that that's not me! Me being a cheery, loveable girl that's friendly to everyone, is. not. me.” by the time that you finished, you were out of breath, noticing how pathetic you sounded. “You must think that I'm a lost cause-“

“I don’t.” He said firmly as he let you go, trying to get a clear look at your face. Even with your tear stained, contorted face, he still found you gorgeous. “I can’t relate to what you’re going through, but remember that I love you.” Zenitsu on the inside was panicking, he felt like crying but that wouldn't help you at all. He knew that whatever he was about to say was going to leave a lasting effect on you, so he chose his words carefully.

You swore that you fell in love with him even more right then and there, heat rose to your cheeks but it wasn't like that alone was going to change your thoughts.

“I know that I'm the worst, that's why I pretend like I'm the best.”

Zenitsu’s eyes widened, in his eyes - wether it was a mask or not - he thought that you were perfect, he knew that this wasn't something that would change overnight. Right then and there he made it one of his primary goals to help you and make you feel loved. He swiftly grabbed your hand, his calloused palms hit yours, squeezing it gently. You were still trembling, trying your hardest to take deep breaths.

“Y/N, just so you know that I will help you through this! I don’t want you to go through this alone! I know that this won’t be something that we can quickly change but I know if we start now, one day you'll be comfortable with yourself!”

A/N : I don't have depression, and I've had a mental breakdown before but I dealt with it alone so I didn't really know how to incorporate another person. I am so sorry if I've misrepresented something in here!

#anime #simping #anime hcs #demon slayer #fluff #comfort #angst with a happy ending #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu zenitsu #zenitsu agatsuma #zenitsu x you #kny zenitsu #zenitsu kimetsu no yaiba #female reader #zenitsu x y/n #zenitsu x reader #angst?#angst #fanfic

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tricks-tickles · 3 years

Text

You Laugh, You Lose

Ever since Ranboo had moved into the SBI House he had gotten used to his flatmates dropping in every now and then during his streams. He had even done it himself, though only to Technoblade (for obvious reasons). When he had mentioned over breakfast that he planned to do a 'You Laugh, You Lose' Techno and Phil offered to sit in, given that sometimes they could get a little boring, what with chat's sense of humour.

So there he was, sitting comfortably in his unicorn chair, Phil and Techno having dragged two chairs up from the dining room and were now positioned on either side of him. He was mid-stream when they reached a lull in the videos. Gathering supplies for a build wasn't the most interesting and his mind was starting to wonder, as predicted. He could see it in his companions that they were feeling it too. Techno tutted,

"C'mon chat, step up your game or Ranboo will never start gigglin'."

He flushed a small bit, Techno's choice of words making his traitorous brain conjure up other ways he could be giggling. Of all the times to fall into a lee mood, now was less than ideal. He couldn't help but imagine teasy words and fingers on his.. wherever he was ticklish. It had been so long since he had been tickled he could barely remember it.

Chat remained unimpressive, lots of 'loud = funny' style videos which were definitely not his sense of humour. Unbeknownst to him, there was a silent conversation of looks and actions going on behind him. When a vaguely amusing video popped up he exhaled through his nose but fell into giggles as it ended. However, the video wasn't what got him laughing. It was Techno's fingers poking his ribs, making him squirm into Phil, who smirked,

"Dude, that wasn't even funny." He said, his tone teasing. Ranboo grumbled under his breath as he removed a life, leaving him with two left. Internally, he was screaming. Was Techno psychic? And more importantly, how could he maximize his chances of more tickles without alerting chat. However, it became quickly apparent that he wouldn’t have to do much, as Phil had taken to periodically poking his side, making him wiggle in his chair.

His next bout of proper tickles came a minute or two later, at a video he would’ve already laughed at, though it seemed that his flatmates weren’t satisfied with his small chuckle, as he was thrown into surprised cackles at two hands on each of his sides, ten fingers wiggling into the apparently sensitive skin. He fought against the urge to say something. Instead he slid down his chair, cut off from his end destination (the floor) by Phil and Techno hauling him up by his underarms.

“I told you chat, as soon as he starts he can’t stop.” Techno said with a self satisfied smirk. Ranboo glared back, choking on a squeak when his ribs were prodded.

It seemed Techno's theory was accurate, as it was now much harder to keep his laughter at bay. In fact, not 15 minutes later he lost the challenge, making it his shortest ‘YLYL’ yet. He quickly ended the stream, as per the rules of the game, and turned to Techno.

"What the hell was that? You lost me the challenge!" He complained, not actually angry.

"Well uh, actually, you lost that last one by yourself." Techno said in his mock nerd voice.

"Yeah," Phil added, "Plus, it could have been much worse."

Ranboo internally cheered, the shot was all lined up, now all he had to do was:

"Oh yeah? How?" Techno and Phil shared a glance, then Techno stood up and behind the chair in one fluid motion. Ranboo craned his neck to watch his but was brought back by Phil's sneaky fingers prodding at his ribs. He tried to bat his hands away but Techno grabbed his wrists, holding them hostage above his head with one hand.

"Like this." He said with a smirk, then dug into his underarm. Ranboo squeaked, weakly tugging on his arms in a mock attempt to get away. When Techno's attack became more coordinated, zeroing on his hollow, he tried to pull his legs up but was bested by Phil, who spun his chair till he was facing him and held them down with his elbows, using his hands to scratch at his sides. This made him cackle, he had no idea he was so ticklish. Techno apparently got bored of his armpit and he moved up to flutter his fingers against his neck, making his laugh go squeaky.

“Aw, Ranboo, who knew you could go so high pitched?” Techno teased in a low voice, making him shiver amongst his cackles.

“Dohohon’t teEAHSehse.” He said, squealing when Phil’s fingers began to inch closer to his stomach.

“Why not?” Techno asked, moving to whisper in his ears. “Does it tickle more when I point out how ticklish you are?” Ranboo nodded frantically, the word making tingles erupt in his stomach. They slowed for a second, Phil tracing shapes on his sides while Techno scratched under his chin. While Ranboo caught his breath he sunk into the chair, caught up in the bliss of gentle tickles.

“Aw Ranboo, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you like this.” Phil said innocently, making him go bright red. He tried to hide his face as Phil got a knowing look on his face.

“Wait, do you like this?” He said, right as Techno begun to dig into his ribs. Any coherent thoughts were swallowed by an onslaught of giggles.

“Uhuhm nhoho?” He said softly, trying not to act too desperate.

“Really? Cause you don’t seem too sure.” Phil pried, moving his fingers closer to his stomach where he involuntarily arched his back. Then, the fingers disappeared. He glanced down, then up at Phil, confused. Then Techno stopped too, causing him to hold in a whine.

“Tell you what, if you really don’t like it, we’ll stop, and we won’t do it again.” That made his gut sink, he had no idea Phil could be so cruel.

“But if you do like it, then tell us and we’ll keep going.” Shit. Shit shit shit. His face burned as Techno let go of his arms, making him immediately hide his face. He mustered up all his courage and nodded.

“Use your words, mate.” Everybody who said Techno was the scary one was so, so wrong.

“I-I um, I might, you know, like it? A little bit? Or a lot?” He mumbled out from behind his hands. Phil gently guided his hands away from his face, softly holding them in his lap. That, with Techno’s hands resting on his shoulders made him a little drunk of how loved he felt.

“Cute. So, where do you want us to go next?” Techno said, giving his shoulders a small squeeze. Ranboo thought about it for a second, then gestured towards his stomach, bringing his hands back up to hide his face. As Phil’s fingers began to tap there Techno took his hands and held them up at either side of his face, making it hard for him to hide. He liked it a little better than his wrists being held up, it was more comforting somehow. Then Phil’s fingers switched from tapping to scribbling along his stomach and wow okay, he had no idea he could be so ticklish. He squealed, his back arching and he tried to wheel his chair away but was stopped by Techno, who squeezed his hands and resumed his teasy whispers.

“Is someone’s tummy a little too ticklish?” He said, the smirk evident in his voice.

“YEAHEHES! PHIHIHIL IHIHIT’S SO BAHAHAHD.” Phil hummed in apparent agreement, sliding his fingers under Ranboo’s shirt, which had ridden up in his frantic squirming. He cackled, loving every second but starting to reach his limit as his laugh grew wheezy. Phil sensed it, slowing a little bit.

“Okay, one last thing, Ranboo, do you like raspberries?”

“RahahaspbehehehERRIHIES?” He squealed as Phil blew a large raspberry right on the center of his stomach, then burst into cackles when he blew another while scratching his sides.

“PHIIHIHIL, STOP STOHOP STOPSTOPSTOP.” Phil stopped immediately, pulling down his t-shirt while Techno realised his hands. He rubbed his stomach as bubbly giggles spilled from his lips, raspberries on his worst (?) spot were a little much for his first time in god knows how long. As Phil left to go get him water and Techno rubbed his shoulders comfortingly he checked twitter, scrolling through his indirects. One in particular caught his eye.

cupid <3

@cupidwastaken_

is it just me or did ranboo sound like phil n techno were tking him during the ylyl?? im not crazy right

His face burned as he turned off his phone and slid all the way onto the floor, making Techno cackle behind him.

#lee!ranboo #ler!techno #ler!philza #mcyt tickle #this has been a work in progress for like a week #taffy i hope you like this

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h0unds-of-h3ll · 3 years

Text

Talking to the moon

The rumors and trauma lived inside his head in fact it ate him alive. Each and everyday lifeless and a black cloud hung over his head. Except when he received and a test message from an unknown number. He knew it was unknown for three reasons. 1) Everyone knew to not text him or disturb him unless he contacted them first. 2) He could recite his entire list of contacts over anything else in his life. And the third was that he didn’t know that this unknown message would change him forever.

Word count: 15,000 *im so sorryyyy*

This is another dreaded Bucky Barnes x reader fic.

Viewers beware you are in for a scare with the: fluff, Bucky is a wanna be alcoholic, blood, angst, cheesy tropes *wrong number,etc*, bad jokes, one liners, awkwardness, sexual innuendos, mentioned sexual harassment, suicidal thoughts, depression, murder, slight dark Bucky who’s just trying to get through life, Sam Wilson mentioned, astrology and planets, knifes, ptsd, nightmares and terrors, flashbacks, sad bitch Bucky missing Steven and using the reader as a better therapist then the certified one, she/her pronouns used for the reader, mostly from Buckys POV, she/you referring to the reader JOHN WALKER SLANDER NO HATE TO THE ACTOR, glass.

(This is dedicated to my friend, tiny adjustments to buckys story and I am dearly sorry if I didn’t write bucky true to his character!)

He choked awake on the air that never left his cold lungs, meanwhile, his skin was afire. A coat of sweat coated him, he slept shirtless since this occurred so often. Always waking in the depth of night to little to no light, only the low gleam of the moon shone through his window near his kitchen along with the soft luminosity of the television sat in front of the sofa. One that he refused to sleep on. He couldn't even sleep on the soft bed tucked in the back corner of the room down the hall in his apartment. He debated why he just wouldn't move into a studio apartment instead of the one he resides in.

He huffed staggeringly and his eyes falling to the ground, searching for something that was never there. Tranquility. His brain trying to calm itself in some form, it never worked it took hours for it to. Even then it never lasted. He suffers another day's trauma trying to sort the world back into order. Sam would often notice but knew to never ask him about it. He knew from the months working together asking and attempting to comfort Bucky often led to arguments. Bucky strongly knew this was nothing and that others were just blowing it out of proportion.

That also led to bias work and Bucky not doing his best, since Sam put him in a bad mood beforehand. Bucky went to therapy. He was more forced than offered, the government felt he was more of a ticking bomb than anything else. Bucky thought of it as more of a joke than anything.

There was no sense in for him to go to the sessions. He often found himself trying to find excuses to skip sessions. He thought that the past is the past and trying to fix it wasn't a possibility. Bucky dealt with it the way he could. He pushed it deep, deep, down in the roaring sea of his mind and dealt with it later. Only in his dreams did it resurface to haunt him. Always making him uptight and tired from the lack of sleep.

However, at this point, he was use to the torture of it all. His brain is his worst enemy. Through shaky breath fanned on his arm, he was crouched over his left leg up his metal arm resting over his knee his other arm holding his weight. He watched the glow of the tv, his chest heaved in exasperation.

Nothing piqued his interest in broadcasting. It was all the same mumbo jumbo of stereotypical things like romance, the reality that was depicting the species as inhumane, the comedy he didn't understand, only one channel did hold his interest.

Perhaps it worsened his mental state but he didn't care and it was the news. It was all the current disasters of the world and the avengers trying to stabilize the circumstances and the best part of it all how disturbing the world is. Even if his bringing was normal to where he is now, he'd most likely be a deeply tormented individual.

He nearly had heart failure when a banner at the bottom of the screen read "John Walker elected as the new Captain America." In blinding letters. Above the banner was John Walker himself standing in front of the podium a hand raised in a gesture to recognize the audience's howl.

Buckys head burst with memories of Hydra and the way it evoked him. The way of how Hydra forced him to be something he wasn't. John Walker was the perfect example of an alternate reality with a substitute Steve. Everything Steve was for John Walker was against.

Images flashed in his head. He put his hands on his head his natural one warm and clammy, in contrast to the bitter cold one. It just gave his flashbacks even more fuel. Living with a constant reminder of who he is. A monster.

He grabbed tightly onto his hair the strands were being plucked as this was being written. He felt small patches of balding from this happening so regularly. His legs parted and creased by the knees. His face strained into pain. His extensive wrinkles from age, noticeable, and worsened from him doing so.

His blanket thrown away to the side with disregard, he started to rock softly front and back. The wood floor burned his tailbone from him sitting on it for so long. Suddenly he felt a different pain. A killer one.

The beige cabinets thrown open papers and documents scattered everywhere. The dark grey of a ceiling of the shelter peered over him judgingly. His arm pushed down into the metal of the chair burned from the uncomfortable position. The bolts leaving deep indentions in his skin. The helmet pressed tightly to his skull leaving him render less against the horror of hearing the words. So many times he had to go through this routine, the monitors loud and buzzing. He bit down strenuously onto the guard in his mouth and squeezed his eyes shut. The electricity drumming into his head, his brain setting fire to its system, he feels it in his muscles, in his blood, the veins that pop in his neck. The tubes behind his head generated and pumped large amounts which umped higher and higher in velocity each time an activation word was spoken loud and clearly. Spat carelessly not in his mother's tongue, he would never think of the language to be beautiful only to be a monstrosity of the world one of the greatest. His dull fingernails dug into the chair it did nothing other than to give him some sort of balance. He screamed but it was muffled to an extent of the guard doing its purpose. "Daybreak."

The announcer spoke into the fuzzy black microphone that's the only word he made out to hear. The daily news report drone on for what of which he came back into reality.

He opened his azure eyes and looked to the left the window that sat in the middle of a pale white wall and his kitchen showed the red bloom of the sun and the tall buildings of the city.

He felt resentful towards the time of day since his flashbacks usually only lasted a minute or so.

Lately, they've grown in duration and that stroke dread into him. He was horrified that someone would say or do an act that would put him in a state of mind. One that he wished to not be in.

Somedays he just yearned to be left for dead in the snowfall of the forest. Notably, so far from the arm that was taken from him that it would be hidden to the world for eons. And from the pessimism of the clouds above him.

He grew irritably hot and damp from the excessive sweat he did to himself, he felt everything was his fault, enlisting, going on the train, helping Steve.

He hated himself for a moment realizing what he thought, he felt selfish for thinking that Steve did this to punish him. He sighed and laid his head tilted to the plastered ceiling.

His neck outstretched. His legs and his arm, limp from the compression of him tensing them for so long. His muscles trying their hardest to relax. His figure seeming to be the equivalent of a sack of potatoes.

He didn't care about how he presented, perhaps it was his past with being a soldier the constant thriving to be the strongest and the son of Hercules. He pushed so far that his body couldn't endure the strength he put it through.

Super soldier serum and all, he was still just a man. He was still human deep into the last atom of his DNA. His eyes nonchalantly examined his ceiling a soft pale white like the rest of his apartment, it reminded him of the moon outside.

If he were to take out his ceiling it'd be right above him. He was enamored by how it seemed to have an ever-lasting glow. He let out a shaky huff then fell ever quiet. Until the day grew old.

Yori had scheduled a lunch meeting earlier that week, they had a routine. Yori attended and Bucky paid. This happened every Wednesday they would meet up and discuss whatever they wished. Yori was just an old decaying man who lived in Chinatown, he lived across from Bucky's building. Yori was kind to the ones he knew.

It was otherwise to people he didn't. After Yori's son died it was hard to, if he only knew who Bucky was entirely he'd die out of shock. Bucky swore to tell him but honestly, Yori was his only friend he had out of work, and even that he couldn't let himself go and confide in Sam.

So here he was in a plain-back leather jacket, some jeans and the same pair of boots he had since the war. He didn't understand the fashion trends of late. Last week he and Yori saw a woman in a bright suit, it looked like a second skin from how tight it was.

Yori was simple-minded as he was and had similar morals and interests. It was disheartening to say that Bucky had a sort of envy for Yori, Bucky wished to have lived a normal life of maybe dying in the war or growing old and gray like Yori.

Get married, have a couple of kids, live a normal life. He understood greatly why Steve went back but he never fully forgave him for it. He felt like Steve was selfish for doing so, but isn't everyone? Steve got a normal life while Bucky had to rot in the world alone and was terrorized by his brain.

He crossed his arms, the leather making a strange sound since he gripped himself so tightly. He sat up straight, his shoulders back, his face set with a profound scowl. It forever imprinted on his face the dark scruff of a new beard growing in.

He hated how it meant uncleanliness, but he didn't have the motivation to shave it off, there wasn't a reason to anyway. He hadn't been on a date in years, centuries even.

He poked and played with his sushi that Yori said was great to try at least once. Bucky felt bad and tried a bite, he had to give credit for a thing so small having to be so spicy. That was about the first and last bite Bucky had. Since then he just jabbed at it with one of the sticks.

The other laid across the small complimentary plate with the rest of the remains of the sushi he failed to eat, he lost his appetite a few weeks ago.

He's been nursing a strong drink called Shōchū. Every time Bucky ordered it Yori said that he put an accent on it and that it made him sound like a foreigner. Although Bucky didn't know how since he was fluent but that was an argument for another day.

The employees there grew to know that they should just leave the bottle there since he usually drinks half their supply on each visit.

He just simply didn't think eating was something he needed. Recently things just seemed to bore him to the point where things that he needed to do he couldn't.

All because his brain tells him this doesn't matter. He's just lived so long from numerous life-ending things and he'd be damned if he'd kick the bucket from starvation.

"That scowl of yours is going to scare the women away," Yori spoke, breaking Bucky out of his trance. Bucky only saw the select few people around them and the women that Yori was referring to were a few older women with smiles and when Bucky turned to look they suggestively waved their fingers.

When Bucky looked back Yori smiled and waved and went back to inhaling noodles. Bucky looked at the man across from him in the small sushi restaurant he grew to know too well, they always sat in the same place a small table near the front of the glass doors.

Some posters and decorations were scattered throughout the small building. The dim lanterns gleam radiantly against the cryptic night. It rained before and the droplets of rain still reside on the windows behind Yori.

Yori slurped pounds of noodles into his mouth at a time, the residue of it was left behind on Yori's pale-white mustache. Bucky was surprised that the stick didn't break from the weight of it. Bucky's eyebrows furrowed together in thought, his posture relaxing.

He laughed inside his shoulders coming up and the side of his lips curved in a smirk. The demeanor he held was appealing from afar, (specifically to the cougars adjacent from where they were.)The conversation always breaking Bucky's previous mood, Yori was very light-hearted when he wasn't in a mood. Especially when he had food and good company. He decided to further it:

"What do you know about the ladies here that I don't?" Yori swallowed a big round lump in his throat slowly going down to his stomach, he must've had a pile of noodles in it by now.

"Well first off all, don't test my ways of making them swoon over me," Yori stated it more of a threat than a declaration. He used his chopsticks and pointed them at Bucky and a warning manner.

His eyebrows perked up and the wrinkles on his forehead worsened similar to the ones that grew on Bucky. His eyes became wide at the thought of being disrespected like the way Bucky just did.

"Second of all, you don't understand how to look without your eyes." And with that Yori chowed down once again on his bucket of noodles. Bucky couldn't perceive Yori's advice, what does seeing without your eyes even could mean?

His smirk faltered into his normal resting face which Yori liked to remark and say was the equivalent to people putting the trash into his garbage can. There was no rhyme or reason for people to do so but they just did.

Just like the way Bucky was always in a sour mood it reminded him of himself always being angry at the world because of other people.

"Have you been seeing anyone lately, if not that might be the cause of your problems," Yori spoke as if he knew everything about Bucky and maybe he could Truth it since Hydra and after being the winter soldier and Steve passing.

Bucky hadn't really been ready to mingle. He just knew he had too much baggage for a partner to put on deal with him. Every now and then when he felt completely alone he downloaded some dating app he didn't actually want and deleted it on the same night.

He had flings here and there and since he met Yori he had been setting him up on dates whether Bucky liked it or not. None of them worked out since Bucky didn't try; he was too wrapped up in his own problems to be listening to hers.

Bucky's gloved metal hand wrapped behind his neck and scratched his stubble coming back down.

"You know Yori surprisingly enough I haven't," Bucky spoke grimly and clutched his teeth. He knew Yori was going to tell him off. He winced when he heard Yori's chopsticks fall into the cup of noodles. Yori sat back into his wooden chair, his arms crossed and a displeased look came across his face.

"And why is that?" Bucky began to open his mouth "Don't give me some excuse that you always give me or this will be our last meeting." Yori stated in a harsh manner with his face twisted in that fatherly manner. "I don't understand why it's a great value to you, to know about my love life,"

Bucky spoke of it as a statement but it came out more as a question. Yori quieted and thought for a moment thinking of the proper words to say. "The stars are aligned in your favor, in which that means you should try and put effort into those small details in what is grief, if not love persevering."

Bucky sat there thinking over the things Yori told him. Bucky stretched his arm out to sip on the Shōchū. He was about a quarter way through. They'd only been there for two hours.

Since Yori met Bucky he learned that people can't always be that bad. Unless of course, you're the type who knocks over his trash can and the men don't pick it up and so it rots to hell when he fills it.

Bucky sighed and reached for the half-full glass of Shōchū. Yori never favored seeing him drink. It was too similar to him drinking when his son passed.

So Yori being Yori he made a little catapult with his chopsticks and put a small piece of noodle into his device and flicked it at Bucky. Bucky glared at him and touched the spot where it hit. Right in the middle of his creased eyebrows. The residue of the noodle followed his fingers Yori went back to eating but before he did so he gave a word to Bucky

"You're not supposed to think about how to see without your eyes. It defeats the purpose entirely if you think about it as strongly as you do, I may have some years under my belt of practicing but you are going to go nowhere soon with the troubles that live in your scowl."

He paused searching into Bucky's storm-driven eyes, Yori saw nothing that lived behind them other than sorrow. It pained Yori to see his friend in such a state.

Yori rested his hands on the table interlaced in front of him, trying to find anything worth reviving if it wasn't already killed behind Bucky's aurora. But then all of a sudden a glimmer, a spark you could say flitted inside the fellow in front of him.

Yori leaned back in his chair and smiled softly, his eyes creasing. "Ah, there it is," Yori spoke softly. Bucky confused more than he had ever been in his life questioned everything.

He had no idea what Yori was doing or as to why he endured the unwanted staring contest they just had. Then his answers were spoken by the one who created the questions.

"The way you see without your eyes is simply to be at peace with yourself, look at the moon and the stars.

They have no troubles or worries and they are the most looked at things in the entire universe no matter where you are. They see everything, yet they still choose to have no regard for the ones that judge them. For you young sir, for them to have that happiness you take that amount doubled."

Bucky scoffed that he didn't intend to be disrespectful, but how in the world was he supposed to be calm when he knew Yori's speech was literal. Yori never made jokes or metaphors, he learned that the hard way.

He uncrossed his arms for the first time since they sat down, and rested his elbows on his knees, and leaned forward in the wooden chair. He squinted his eyes, questioning Yori's statement.

He knew Yori hated to be questioned and tested, they always led to night and day-long arguments that never fully were resolved. Maybe it was the half bottle of Shōchū he drank that made him confident. He spoke rough and dry from it taking over his throat and liver.

"So let me get this straight. the only way I can find peace and happiness is if I talk to the stars and the moon? Yori, you've got to be joking." Yori grew agitated but his composure remained ever the slightest of relaxation.

Yori reached towards the back of his pants to retrieve something while glaring at Bucky and the staring contest resumed. Bucky thought for a moment that Yori was going to shoot him in point-blank range in front of the small company that was set at different tables all over the place.

Instead, Yori pulled out a small crumbling paperback book with the cover filled with stars and galaxy-type depictions and inscribed above it was

"Talking to the moon, and other astronomic casualties"

Yori sat the book gently on the side of the table he got up and before he left he looked at Bucky for a long while before turning and walking out the door. Not another word was spoken between them until the next Wednesday.

Bucky walked home that night by himself. Usually, he would walk with Yori but what happened at the sushi place he felt disturbed by. He lost his temper and he never should've.

He's been put in worse situations than thinking that Yori made him out to be a fool for believing that the stars could talk. Who knows if they do. He should've been more open-minded, he's just been riled up from the flashbacks.

Shōchū seemed to make things worse but he'd forget about things for a while. He wanted to apologize to Yori;

he severely drowned the urge. With the rest of the bottle. Yes, the restaurant let him take the rest. He had to pay handsomely. He thought it was worth it until he had to walk up the stairs to get into his apartment. He swayed back and forth mostly to the left. The arm weighed more when he was like this.

He had not a thought in mind about the world other than seeing the bottom of the clear bottle made of glass.

He tried to walk up the stairs he really did but his chunky boots made it hard to judge the height of the stairs. He got about halfway up them and then he fell. He smashed his chin against the wood and his chin started to bleed. He didn't try to stop the fall.

His right hand was occupied with the bottle. His thick scarred fingers tied around the neck of it securely. He'd kill anything that would try to take it away from him. He pushed himself up off the stair and he winced in pain when his right hand was now in the pile of glass. It fell and broke when he did.

His back burned with being indented from laying on the stairs. His chin seeped down onto the pit of his neck where his jaw formed.

He pushed slowly up off the stairs entirely putting his damaged hand behind his back. How ironic that his normal flesh is the damaged one.

He lifted off with the metal one. He clutched his wrist and pinched it tightly with the metal one.

Trying to cut off blood flow so it won't get more infected than it already had. He walked to his apartment shamefully. His head hung down low, too insecure and awkward about what happened. His jaw stern and gritted he was embarrassed.

The alcohol dimmed it but it was still a major event. He'd hit the rock bottom of an endless pit.

He dug out his key in his pocket and went inside. When he entered he always felt worse than he had left. Yet he never had a problem leaving. It always felt like he was welcomed back into a deep aurora of depression.

He stepped on the back of his boots and left them by the door. He walked to the bathroom but he stopped and turned to look at the tv. There he was again in all his glory. John Walker.

Although this time in his clutches was Steve's shield. He grew saddened by the fact Sam gave it over. He felt betrayed. Sam was the only one he knew other than him how valuable that was and John Walker out of all people had it in his possession.

He'd have a long discussion with Sam in the near future about this. He was always infuriated by John but now he couldn't put it into words. Except for the word imposterous.

Bucky felt a sharp pain in his wrist and when he looked down. He soon found that he was nearly fracturing his wrist with his metal modeled fingers. He also took into mind how deep the glass shard was. Some tiny, some huge. He cursed under his breath a soft and crude

"Fuck."

He quickly loosened his grip and shook his head in regret when he looked down to his wood floor. He realized that blood trickled from him since he opened the door.

He hastily shuffled awkwardly to the bathroom trying his hardest to not make more of a mess than he already had. He walked with long strides and his white socks dirtied from blood.

The bathroom was small, with half tiled walls and a tiled floor, beige paint covered the rest of the wall. A shower shoved to the left of him, an off-white bulb accentuated the room.

He swore to change it but he never did. A mirror and sink in front of him, the mirror was a small white rectangular one, matching the shape of the sink. Sandwiched in between the shower and sink was the smallest white toilet imaginable.

He hated going into the bathroom for this reason alone. He saw how weak he was in the mirror.

A busted bleeding wound. That crept close to the imprint that marked the middle of his chin, dark drunk eyes, shaded pink lips, sharp cheekbones accompanied with a keen jawline, scars littered across his body. His face had a few abrasions, and cheeks hidden in the scruff that continued to grow.

His hair tousled and strewn every way it pleased. He never cared about it; he never tried to style it since he'd just put his hands in it. His shoulders were clad in leather and a beige henley that matched the walls. The calmness after getting pounded reminded him of when hydra made him fight the other soldiers. Then suddenly he was there.

It was a day that Bucky would think about for the rest of his life. Bucky had a lot of those days but this one, in particular, was one that made him feel excruciating pain. The fight he was trained to lose. The compound was a dimly lit walkway in between the cells. Two would fight momentarily continuously one was declared the winner and fight the champion. Bucky or the soldier.

The commanders of hydra love to evoke fear. Seeing the men riddled with fear. Some vomit, others beg. Some are like Bucky. Ruthless. They don't care who they are or what they want to be. All they strive to be or do is fight and the blood splatter after winning against the enemy, releases stress so sometimes it's a release unless you have a guilty conscience. For Bucky, it's the latter. He has nightmares, sure, but everyone does.

Bucky had perfect posture, his head tilted into the way hydra trained him to do or to be brainwashed until he was complicit. Bright ocean eyes were unknowingly dead. The thunder of the other candidates to fight by the cells on the sidelines until it was their time to fight.

Although before they went to fight they would have a fistfight with Bucky to higher their combat skills. Bucky was the best soldier they had to let them practice on. That being said Bucky wasn't being used to his full potential. Bucky hadn't fought anyone to his skill level, everyone was either at a lower or average level. They were put into groups of two in fighting whoever won would fight either Bucky or another soldier even crueler than Bucky. Bucky had some remorse and would hold back. He still deep down was a person but the other soldier killed many from going too far. And today was the day that Bucky had to fight that soldier. Bucky had three other men for the soldier to fight until it was him, all skinny and small, scrappy.

The soldier was big and unruly. He was undefeated, sure Bucky was scared but at the compound, it's kill or be killed.

No one knew the soldier's true name, just the series of numbers he was given. His confidence may be the death of him. Bucky believed-knew that he was more than the average man. He had courage, a heart of gold, and the endurance of a bull and here he was amping himself up and nervously fidgeting wondering what would happen if he won this fight. He wondered if everyone would think of him as superior or if he'd be more of a black sheep.

He heard a crack of a hydra man yelling to start. The man in front of him was next and the one that lost had gashes to the bone and blood oozing out of places where he didn't know could.

Bucky felt exposed when the man in front of him went to fight, there was still a very long list behind him to fight but he was next up. The soldier looked at him, his demeanor felt like the grim reaper and Bucky was fixing to pay his toll.

The soldier had muscles upon muscles and as broad as one can ever be. The word powerful couldn't even describe him in the lightest.

Bucky chewed on the inside his cheek he was nervous.

The soldier was known to put the others in the infirmary for days on end and those he hurt abnormally bad gotta not fight for a while and rot in their cell until. More often than none they'd put you back out in the field.

The stories of this soldier were the type you'd tell sitting at a campfire to scare kids, instead, it was grown, men. Even if Bucky was the bravest out there he wasn't like the soldier.

Bucky observed all of his techniques and styles over the weeks. Preparing himself for his scheduled fight. It was an algorithm for the soldier to react to specific hits and counter them with the same thing over and over. The hydra men taught all of the soldiers the same moves except the one Bucky was going to go against. They knew Bucky was their best soldier so they had to at least put him in a good fight. Bucky caught on to this pattern and that made him think that he could win.

The man in front of him laid in a fetal position with mud and red splatter across his pale form, the boisterous crowd making the shame feel unbearable.

Then all of a sudden Bucky felt a harsh shove on his back. One of the hydra men shoving him into the pit with the soldier. Bucky nearly fell face forward on the cement. A burst of loud booming laughter deafened him more than the crowd on the sidelines.

The soldier crouched low and Bucky knew what he was going to do. He took out the legs then beat his component to a pulp like a gorilla. Bucky did the same stance. He looked foolish, his hair stuck to his forehead, sweat-soaked his clothes which were already tightened to his skin from the excessive working out he did. Courtesy of Hydra wanting him to be in top shape. The other soldiers grew restless as they psyched one out. They went into circles staring at one other like vultures testing who was the quickest. Whoever blinks first wouldn't blink for weeks after.

A screech came from the soldier and he came after Bucky.

Now imagine a vicious lion combined with a cyclops coming at you. Bucky psyched him out and pivoted. That just angered him more since the battles never lasted more than a couple of minutes. This one was already the longest. The soldier turned slightly and looked over his shoulder and before he could do so Bucky had gotten close enough to kick the left of his knee in and he fell. It was as loud as the thunder when he did.

Although Bucky wasn't watching his feet and the soldier took his left foot and grabbed Bucky. He fell. The roar of the other soldiers boomed. His ears went out painfully, a ringing sound, and the rain flew harshly against his face.

He couldn't move, the wind knocked out of him that he couldn't breathe. He felt ashamed to have even thought that he could win. The black ceiling littered with golden beams.

The gold reminded him of the stars behind them, how someday he could be out of this dungeon to see them again. Abruptly all the ringing in his ears came back. He heard a low hum of breathing; he thought it was his own until he saw the beast above him. The soldier grabbed his arms and Bucky struggled even through his stupor. Bucky wiggled and tried to get out from his grasp but he was a god amongst men. Bucky then thought of how Steve felt when he'd get cornered in an alley and he'd come and save Steve from being killed. But Bucky didn't get saved. The barbarian struck Bucky over and over. The nurse would later tell him that she was surprised that he didn't have any brain damage. Bucky waved in and out of reality. Every time he tried to open his eyes it'd be welcomed with a fist. Bucky spat the blood out of his mouth onto the soldier. The soldier was just too strong. He was impossible to win against. The soldier rubbed the blood into his face and laughed. He leaned to Bucky's ear only so he could hear "puny."

Bucky screamed loud. Loud enough that the neighbors awoke from their sleep and he'd sure have a lot of complaints to address in the morning. In a split second, he found himself with his fist through the mirror, the glass falling every way onto the tile into the sink and toilet. Into the already damaged hand of his, the glass poked through his palm, and through the other side, the previous glass dug deeper into his flesh.

Severing the tendons. All he could think about was the pain of having to clean everything up. He didn't feel the pain he caused himself because that didn't matter. It made him feel the least bit human. Pain. Everything living thing felt alive and once he lost that. He'd feel like a complete and utter monstrosity.

He looked up from his hand and to the mirror. Shards still hung and it displayed a perfect depiction of what Bucky was. Damaged.

Bucky spent the rest of the night with a bandaged chin that kept bleeding like a waterfall. Hw picking out pieces of glass with the smallest tweezers known to man, that too ruby red water ran down the sides of his hand onto his bare beefy thighs and pooled in the middle of his palm.

He had calmed down after a couple of hours by sitting on the bumped-out window.

He often likes sitting there and watching the city. The cars zooming past the bright casinos.

The one thing he enjoyed the most was watching the constellations and making them out to be the things he liked. Often he'd see a star in the moon and he saw the shield.

He hated that one since it put him in the pain of remembering Steve and how he had no one.

He didn't need anyone. That's what he told himself but he was very wrong. His jacket was thrown over a wooden chair in the dining area. The sleeves of his henley rolled around his elbows showing the veins in his forearms.

He changed out his jeans for a random pair of dark shorts, he threw off his dirtied socks.

To say the least, he was at comfort for the first time this week. He started to read the book a little, the pages were torn and faded. Yori must've read this multiple times.

Bucky wondered why. The book was small and petite and was only a hundred or so pages. It was interesting, it was all about philosophy, it was written as if it was a big life poem.

He hated a lot of it but here and there were a few good points. He was about halfway through the book when a paragraph struck him.

Heart. Mind. Body. Soul. Great beings of life and they can only communicate by stars. Life and everything between can be carried through them. So if you speak to the sky of night. You will often hear a reply.

He thought of it as silly but then his brain began to wonder. What if he could talk to whoever he wished dead or alive. Just from talking to the stars. It seemed too easy and childish.

Although what did he have to lose the majority of the world hated him and the other half tolerated him.

He put the tweezers down and wrapped his hand with the bandage used to box. He had leftover wrappings since he used to do dirty street fighting when he got dumped from S.H.E.I.L.D's payroll.

He picked up the book that was under his thigh, holding the book open. He held it there since that was where the most light surfaced. He didn't exactly have the expenses to pay the electric bill so he always kept it off.

His eyebrows furrowed ever close as he came across a sentence he seemed to not understand.

The book looked like it shrunk in the size of his hand. His fingers twisted and ran over the cover and the letters on the page fell off onto his lap. The shorts rode up about mid-thigh and engraved their way into his skin.

He couldn't read anymore. He sighed when he read the same paragraph twice over.

All he could think about was being able to talk to Steve. He pushed it into the back of his mind, he carried the book carelessly in his hand, the feeling an odd one since he hadn't read anything for ages.

He walked over to his little place where he slept and laid down.

The news wasn't showing anything interesting. He became quite bored. He wondered if Yori was doing okay.

Maybe he should check up on him even if they weren't on the best of terms. He drifted in and out of consciousness, he played with the wrapping of his hand to try and keep him entertained.

He sat up against his wall observing everything around him how bland and monotone everything was.

He felt a buzz in the pocket of his shorts. He begrudgingly went to grab it. He didn't know who or why they were messaging him. Whoever it knew that it was just for emergencies.

He swears that he was going to murder Sam if he sent him one of the pictures with a caption that never related to the image. Sam said that supposedly there was a joke in the caption but that just made Bucky even more confused.

Bucky didn't know why he kept the phone. He never answers it and usually, he finds out everything he needs to know by watching the news.

When Bucky did finally open his phone to see the lock screen. He stared at it in bewilderment for a long while trying to make sense as to why someone messaged him.

He noticed that it was from an unknown number. That being said there was a one in a million chance for someone to know what his number was. He sighed he was going to have to change his number again. He was surprised what the message was.

"Hey! I had a wonderful time on our date today, I was wondering if we could go on another this week? If not I completely understand I'm new to this..um..blind dating thing. I really enjoyed meeting you instead of talking to a screen! Lol! Anyway, Ttyl!"

Bucky didn’t know how or what to feel. What date? Why was she (he assumed so since the person seemed vibrant and bubbly.) So happy to see him? He didn’t even know who this person was! A thought crossed Bucky’s mind.

Perhaps he could initiate the partner she went on a date with. He wasn’t exactly busy and had a girl on his arm. He realized that if he were to go on this hypothetical date that it would be very obvious that he wasn’t the man she was interested in.

He subconsciously stood up and paced his living room to his kitchen to and fro. The soft glow of his phone illuminated his face in the dark. It was wrapped tight in his metal fingers. The yellow stripes that were like a snake coiling around his arm grew more visible.

He threw his right hand into his hair, his henley slightly rising and showing a patch of skin between the waistband of his shorts and where the sweater laid. It allowed a drooling sight of a teasing view of his defined “V” of his hip bone that flowed below his shorts.

It's been a while since he felt any blood circulate under his shorts. He didn’t understand what this girl did to him but it got him going and that was certainly uncommon under his circumstances of life.

Don’t get him wrong back in his day he was a player. Now it's lessened to nothing. Not even dates, so this could be big for him. He stopped when he concluded. What the hell did ttyl and lol mean? It took an embarrassing text to Sam and Sam merely laughed at him and told Bucky to google it. That just made things worse.

What was google? He went through every single thing on his phone until he found the icon labeled google and he did google it. ‘Talk to you later and 'laugh out loud' Oh. Bucky was embarrassed how long it took him to figure that out.

He sloppily used both of his thumbs and stood in the middle of his living room texting out a reply.

'I'm totally down to go on another date with you, sweetheart."

He was proud of himself since he remembered Sam using the word totally in a sentence before. He was confident that the confidence and the suaveness from his past never left. And then the regret started to hit him with a bat.

Why’d he called her sweetheart? What if she didn’t like to be called that. God how could he be so stupid?! He started to give up after he didn’t seem to have a reply in his future.

He sat down, crisscrossed in front of his tv and his couch, and began to swim ever so quietly in his mind. His eyes burned with strain as he watched the bright screen in front of him. A festival celebrating the new captain he nearly lost his mind until he felt a buzz against his thigh and when he looked down he saw that the mysterious girl messaged him again.

He opened his phone to find three little dots appearing and disappearing continuously. He wondered what she was writing that required that attention to thinking of what she was writing to him. He wasn’t anyone special. He was a natural disaster but that was about the unique thing about him.

He grew impatient and shifted his weight every few seconds. He was very nervous about what she was going to say. He felt like a schoolboy asking out his crush and being afraid of rejection. Lord help him because he missed feeling something other than pain. Then another buzz ran up his arm and under his spine, it was the message she sent. It was short and simple of the lines of what remembered to be:

"..."

Bucky nearly threw his phone across his apartment. But then sucked a huge breath through his teeth when another buzz went through.

"It's just no one has ever called me 'sweetheart' before."

That made Bucky feel like he wanted to crawl into the deepest darkest ice chamber and live there for the rest of his life. This was it he destroyed his life by trying to flirt with someone hundreds of years younger than him. He exposed himself and he could never redo it. He should've known that this was a bad idea.

Technically he did but he just ignored it. How could he be so idiotic to spoil his chances of getting out of this cage of death. This was the epitome of a fish drowning. He was overreacting and hyperventilating solely because he doesn't know how to flirt like the modern age. He was doomed.

His fingers resisting the strength of his mind telling him not to type out sent her the message reading:

"Do you like being called sweetheart or do you prefer doll?"

He swore he died when he saw that he sent that. SWEETHEART AND NOW DOLL? He wanted to take a steaming hot bath and maybe splurge with bubbles and fall asleep and hey maybe he'd drown.

At this point, he didn't think it wasn't that bad of an idea. He put his palms on his forehead, his knees on his thighs staring at the pitch-black rectangle below him. Impatiently waiting for her response.

An on-set headache developing from all the stress he's had under the last thirty minutes. His heart jumped at the sight of the glow lighting up his screen. He quite literally jumped out of his sin to read it:

"You have no idea. It's way better than getting called mama and shawty by the fuck boys. Lol!"

Bucky was now in the crisis of not knowing what was a shawty and an *ahem* fuck boy. It was so worrying the amount of googling Bucky has done just talking to this girl. He noted to never call her..shawty or mama and to never be a fuck boy.

When he did figure out what those things were he wasn't exactly surprised. He was jealous and angry that she'd been called things that she didn't want. The feeling was common but never this strongly. It was an odd feeling it rose from his stomach to his throat and made it dry and hard to speak.

It made him clutch the sides of his phone so harshly that webs started to hatch from within the glass. His eyes cold and dead staring at the screen reading over her sentence once, then ten times over.

A little buzz came from his phone gasping for air from Bucky choking it out with his metal hand. (You wish that was you, huh?)

"I do love how polite and gentlemanly you are tho. It's hard to find guys like you."

Such short sentences made his heart gallop so fast in minutes. The logical side of his brain kept telling him that her compliments weren't for him but the attention for someone was much louder.

Maybe his old ways of flirting were beneficial, which caused him to be more at ease. His tensed shoulders relaxed along with his metal arm. Although his body felt he was burning alive. His free hand pulled his collar off his velcro skin, letting his structured collar bones come breathable. His breathing became shallow.

"It's hard not to be when you meet someone so radiant."

He didn't even know who this girl was but all he knew is that he didn't want to lose her and become utterly alone again. Not this time. His hair stuck to his face. He was going to have to take the coldest shower ever to get rid of her and even that he won't.

"LOL, Speak for yourself, I'm nothing compared to you."

He scoffed and typed furiously, how could she think such things about herself. He was deeply frustrated he didn't know why but he felt very drawn to her. He'd do anything in his power to just want her to promise him that she'd never leave him.

God, he sounded like a psycho and maybe he was. Maybe this was his last straw and when she'd break off he would too. He was so afraid of going back to the way things were to going back to being the winter soldier that he felt like he lost his mind trying to prevent it.

"Alright doll, how about this, we meet up this Friday for dinner and a movie at nine o'clock?"

He was scared that she would reject him. Fuck. She didn't even know what he looked like. What if she took one look at him and saw past his facade and into how broken he was and decided that no. All these feelings are what drew Bucky to stop searching and to think that he was a burden to everyone. Maybe that's why he felt the only place he could be himself was when he knew that he was 100% alone.

He huffed softly and threw his head back against the couch staring up at the ceiling once again. His Adam's apple bobbed as he listened to the soft murmur of the tv. All the world's troubles put onto Steve's back for years and he gets a little tongue-tied and that was it for him.

He needed help. He needed to get better. He laughed softly, his face breaking out into creases of his tanned skin, his lips parting and his teeth glowing against the white flush. He was insane and there was no going back. He laughed at himself for what seemed like an hour until he felt the familiar buzz against his heated skin.

"Hell yes man as long as we watch sharknado!"

Bucky's smile grew more and stretched his face into a radiance that made him look like he did when he was young.

Bucky didn't know what the hell sharknado was but he was glad to know she liked him enough to go on a date with him. Bucky Barnes had a date to go on Friday and he couldn't be happier. He didn't have any nightmares that night but he'd rather have a life-ending one than what he told Yori in the morning.

It was a couple of days after the fight with Yori. Bucky finished the book the day after he read it that's why he was here along with wanting to apologize for his actions at the restaurant. He was currently sat on the wise man's couch. His son's shrine right on the small table in front of him. He bit the inside of his cheek hard and let his eyes fall elsewhere. He was ashamed to have kept this secret for so long but he couldn't find a way to tell Yori.

"Yeah, hey I murdered your son but it was fine since I was brainwashed by wanna-be nazis?" He let out a small nervous laugh and ran a hand through his hair. Yori was going to find out somehow sooner or later. Bucky just hoped it was later. He didn't want what he had with Yori to end because of his past.

"What's worrying you?" Yori said softly as he walked briskly into the living room with a cup of green tea. He sat down on the couch on the right side of the Bucky. Nearest to the door. Bucky couldn't but think Yori was in some form afraid of him since he tested him that night at the restaurant. No one ever tried to test Yori.

Bucky was different. A way that Yori wanted to understand. But Yori saw the trouble of the glass downstairs when he went to put the trash away. The brand was still visible and Yori only knew one person who drank that. Bucky. Yori figured bad things came from it.

Partly the reason since he knew what came after from drunken mishappenings. Yori sat the green tea on the brown coffee table in front of them by Bucky and put his focus back onto Bucky.

"I asked a question," Yori said softly. It seemed that Bucky was in a trance his head downward and his eyes shifting searching for something maybe an answer to Yori's question but there were so many things going through Buckys mind that it'd take months for Bucky to explain to Yori everything.

Bucky looked up to Yori with a smile but in his eyes were nothing but disaster. Yori sat uncomfortably. He was disturbed not once in the few months of knowing Bucky did not smile.

Bucky ignored the question instead "I finished the book you gave me," Bucky spoke with a waver in his voice making him sound unsure. While he reached into his pocket to grab it Yori pursed his lips.

"I didn't want you to read it I wanted you to return it to the library," Bucky's smile faltered and his eyes dimmed even darker than the way they did before. "Oh" is all Bucky said before he put the book back into his jacket pocket. He messed with the wrapping on his hand that Yori took notice of. Bucky was acting odder than usual and Yori couldn't put his finger on it.

Yori took out a scratch piece of paper and handed it to Bucky. In scratchy handwriting, Bucky assumed it was another book 'life on mars.' Then Yori spoke up "Are you going to drink your tea if not I will," Yori jabbed a finger pointing to the white cup. Bucky cleared his throat "I'm not that thirsty,"

Bucky handed over the glass cup to Yori and he glared over to Bucky and he glared back. Yori smacked his lips together after he finished. "If you're here just to have a staring contest with me, then I'm afraid you'll be here for a very long time,"

Bucky readjusted his posture and breathed roughly. "I wanted to apologize for the way I acted at the restaurant. I know I shouldn't have lost my temper at something so minor."

Bucky stopped thinking of words to say he gave up. Yori got up and left the kitchen uninterested in Bucky's apology. His son's portrait started yearning to be alive again. He stared brutally into Bucky's existence. It asked to switch position with Bucky and Bucky swore that he was out of his body and then sucked back in when Yori started to swirl a spoon around the top of the lip of the cup.

"Sugar makes green tea flavorful," Yori sat down when he was finished he swirled it into the now full cup. Bucky guessed he made a few more for later. Yori came back up to the lip and dampened it with tea it made and a remarkably loud song.

Around and around it went putting Bucky into a trance his posture regained to straight and his shoulder back head high with eyes dead. "When my son, RJ, was one he used to sing this song 'a longing rusted freight car coming to an end where it went when the furnace descended.' it was quite a beautiful song when he sang it,"

Bucky heard bits and pieces before his brain went to a mush of the activation words being said in his head. "When he was nine had a tumor and we took him to the doctor but we found out it was benign."

Bucky couldn't hear. He couldn't see. The sky was filled to the brim with stars. The moon brightened and removed his appearance from the trace of a normal eye. He stepped carefully on the roof of the building. His suit blending him into the shadows. His hair stuck to his face closing him in and disguising him more than he already is. He saw RJ through the roof's window. This couldn't have gone more perfectly. He slipped behind one of the paintings and was quiet, his breathing irregular. He heard footsteps and assumed it was RJ and punched through the painting and grabbed tightly onto the neck of the man he mistakenly thought was RJ and tossed him back into the debris of the painting. A man came after him and he quickly threw the knife from the back of his belt and plunged it into the neck of his victim. Another man slammed into the stairway when he flew out of the painting the rest of the men flew down the stairs in pursuit of fleeing the winter soldier. As they shot at him he was faster and killed them first he jumped off the stairs and threw the other spare knife at the man in front of him. An old man grey in the green leather jacket he smashed against the wall even threw metal Bucky could feel the man's heartbeat quickening and then faltering to nothingness. "Hail Hydra'' The last words the man heard as he dropped from Buckys grip to a heap of a corpse in a matter of seconds. Bucky turned to his right and watched the RJ struggle to put the key to escape Bucky. Bucky wanted to laugh at how weak and puny his attempt was to get away; he was constantly looking behind him at Bucky. Closer and closer Bucky's strides were to capture his life. Bucky's shoulder swayed a demeanor threatened with authority and anyone who dared to test it would feel the stupidity of their choice. When RJ started to beg Bucky thought that was all he had in him. Bucky didn't care. He raised his hand and straightened it perfectly matching the hilt to the RJs head.

"I KILLED RJ!" Bucky yelled standing upright. Saliva flew onto Yori when he screamed. Bucky's metal arm was tightly tied around Yori's throat. Yori was in pure terror, his eyes wide, his hands in front of him wrapped around the metal as he leaned back to get away from Bucky as he confessed to him who killed his son.

His mouth was wide in shock gasping for air. Bucky's eyes widened in horror, his mind running thousands of thoughts per second he took his hand off Yori's throat and choked on air. Bucky stared down at his metallic pitch-black hand and then Bucky ran. He ran to his apartment. Hands in his hair pacing kitchen to the living room.

What the actual fuck did he just do? He felt tears brim his eyes and he couldn't believe what he just did. He ruined everything he worked for since Wakanda. His reputation was obliterated just like that in a matter of seconds. His breathing became ragged; he managed to take off his dark black leather jacket and tossed it to the couch.

The black t-shirt he had on raised slightly from his arms being on his head. His wrapped hand tore into his skin making him even more upset from the broken mirror in his bathroom that he still didn't clean up. The memory just kept running itself over in his head he couldn't stop thinking about it. Yori's reaction.

There's no way he'd be able to repair what he did to Yori and he'd had to live the rest of his life knowing how badly he fucked up. He wanted to so badly tear this goddamn arm off with everything he had. He remembered trying the old one off that Hydra gave him it never worked. He still had the deep gashes from his nails where they latched onto his shoulder.

The scars never really healed right, instead of being in the skin, they rose like mountains from it. Bucky clutched his head tightly, his form shaking with tremors. He just kept thinking of the word stupid.

"I, John Walker. Captain America has taken the super-soldier serum and in my disregard, I feel as if there are no consequences and it should be open to the public. And in retrospect of the world, I personally think that Steve Rogers was too soft on his components and since I have taken the serum I will no longer be tolerating the life of the terrorists. That being said I will in no regard will hold back. I will do everything in my power to rid this Earth of the monsters we know until their last god-ridden breath."

Bucky lifted his head from its place hanging down into his hands, his jaw gritted tight, his nose flared, and his eyes full of fury. John Walker. He was going to kill that man one way or another. Bucky was pissed so beyond natural anger that he stood up and walked straight in front of the tv.

This man was beyond no right in having that televised. What he said could destroy the world in an instant. Who or why did he get the serum from? And Bucky was the time bomb? Bucky closed his eyes, his hands turned into tight fists, and let the image of John Walker in an interview with a lady sat across from him at John's old school burn in his mind. The white noise of the crowd cheering John's opinion made Bucky's blood boil.

Bucky thought he had calmed himself until he opened his eyes he saw John look into the camera and point.

"The world would be a better place if there were more brave soldiers like me."

Bucky reared his metal fist back and pounded the tv until the screen was ridden of John Walker's face. Bucky came to the idea that when he got another tv maybe he shouldn't watch the news for a while. Glass fell on the table and pieces on the wood floor by his feet.

He fell to his knees. His knees cracked from all his weight on them with no support. His knees being crushed by the glass. His hands hiding his face from the world.

His cheeks and face grew warm from how he felt. His nose burned when tears started to fall ever so gently down his cheeks. Grey eyes becoming the most vibrant of blues. He choked softly, his throat closing as he sat there in the middle of his destroyed living room. His apartment is the greatest amphitheater in the world.

His shoulders rising and falling and stuttering when he gagged on air. He parted his hands from his face and sat upright. His hands fell into fists, his arms tensed and the veins in his neck pulsed when he let out a blood curdling scream. It was a long screech filled with his voice cracking his vocal cords giving upon him.

His tears despite his yelling still fell and stained his cheeks. He thought so many things at once and everything involved him being a monster. He was hurt and this was the worst self-harm. The arm was given to him and the brain that wasn't his own.

He decided that he needed to go on a walk to calm himself down. Maybe he'd go and return Yori's book. All he knew is that the world for Bucky Barnes was getting darker and worse by the day. Who knows how long until he loses who he is. But one thing was for sure. It wasn't going to be for long until he does.

He stayed home for the rest of that day. It was in the evening when he had gotten home from Yori's. He was still greatly upset by what happened. He couldn't think about it until he grew angry with a suicidal rage. He was alone. All over again the monster that kids are scared to go to sleep over.

He sat by the window again just in the same random shorts and no shirt out of fear of coating it in sweat. It was the least of his problems but it was still a burden. He wished he had something to listen to, his thoughts were so loud that he was surprised that mind readers didn't go deaf from it. He watched the people below him walk past the building complex.

Not batting an eye at the monster in the window above them. He wanted to laugh at how normal people were and how he was once like them but now turned into this creature. His shoulders broad and held his form up by the sides of his sculpted waist.

His legs crossed over another he leaned against the wall that joined the window in the corner. He sat across from the kitchen. His stomach growled at the thought of food, the last time he could remember eating something was at the restaurant and that was just a nibble. It wasn't like he could eat something. He never splurged on food, all the food he had was fruit sitting in a white complimentary bowl on the middle of the island.

He pushed his head against the wall swallowing thickly debating whether he should or not. He decided he didn't deserve it after what he's done. Disrupted from his thoughts he felt a buzz on his thigh in the pocket of his shorts.

He fished out the stupid little box and saw that it once again another text from Sam. He's been ignoring them since he's had Sam's contact; he deemed them not worthy of a response. They were all on the lines of are you okay? Bucky smiled at something so incredulous. He started typing out

Yeah. Just losing my mind but other than that I'm just fine. But went against it. When he read more of the missed messages one did pique his interest. Did you hear about the rumor of Steve being on the moon? Bucky's eyebrows furrowed and his face contorted. What? How could Steve be on the moon? Sam and he literally watched Steve grow old in front of them. How absurd to say that Steve was on the moon. But when Bucky thought more of it, it reminded him of what he read in the book.

Talk to the stars and they'll talk back. Bucky groaned in annoyance. Was this what he was resorting to in a desperate measure for interaction? Talking to inanimate things. He let out a deep breath his chest rose then fell shortly after. He closed his eyes imagining Steve back in Brooklyn and all the mischievous things they did.

He remembered the day Steve got rejected and then Bucky being deployed the next day. The day that started it all. The downfall of Bucky's life. Bucky didn't know what he would say to Steve but he thought he started out well enough.

"Do you remember when we were kids and we'd always have to act like we were soldiers because of you. God Steve even when we were kids you had your mind made up. Always wanting to be something when I couldn't even choose what cereal I wanted,"

Bucky stopped and thought over the words he said. It was true. Steve was always headstrong about everything he wanted. Bucky remembered that Steve was going to create this comic of this monkey who shot bananas out of a bazooka. And Steve did.

It never took off or anything it was just the thought of if anything Steve wanted he would never stop until he got it.

While Bucky always had his priorities elsewhere, the majority of the time he made Steve do his homework so he wouldn't fail. Two opposite people were the best of friends, who knew that one of them would turn out to be the villain.

"You know Steve I enlisted because I felt like I had to prove something, I had to prove that I was better at something than you. Just that one thing I ended up not even being better than you at."

Bucky's voice was dry and raspy when he spoke. The screaming fried his throat when he talked. It burned like a good bottle of Shōchū.

He'd kill for a bottle right now. He was starting to understand that this wouldn't work but he grew angrier at the thought of Steve trading him out for some girl. Bucky knew how much Peggy mattered to Steve but he still never got why he'd trade him out for her. He was jealous in a sense over the life Steve got.

"If I could I would change places with you in an instant, to be at peace. You got to live your life and I had to decay for years without my best friend. Maybe this was for the best so you couldn't see me become who I am now. Someone that we swore to never be ever since we were kids, the bad guy."

Bucky chewed on his lip after that. Til the end of the line his ass. Bucky ran his hand through his hair, the strands comforting his hand. He got up from the window and walked over to his little bed and went to sleep. The night's toll took everything out of him.

The only thing he currently wanted was this thing he had with this girl to be good. How wrong he was.

He decided that he was going to go and return the book Yori gave him. He still hated what happened and he knew trying to fix it would make it worse. The least he could do is get him the book he wanted. So Bucky put on his washed-out jeans, his shirt he wore yesterday, shrugged on his jackets and slipped his feet into his boots, and a black glove to hide his metallic arm, and went to the Library.

The library was a little old place with the roof caving in not far from the complex building. He wondered why Yori didn't just go and get it himself, Bucky didn't really care about having to go but he just wanted to know if Yori was okay and doing well.

Bucky went down the stairs and found a few remaining pieces of the glass bottle he broke last week. The memory of him falling and breaking it etched in his mind vividly. He felt a chill run up his spine at the feeling of someone seeing him like that.

He hurried down the last of the stairs and opened the glass door and went outside. The warm air wafted itself around him in a soft summer breeze. It was warm but not hot enough for him to go without a jacket and the chilly breeze lightened it up. It felt relaxing since he forgot how long it's been outside of his apartment.

He took long strides on his walk. But he couldn't shake the paranoia of being stalked. He was about halfway when he saw a shadow mock him. He walked faster not wanting to have to deal with this today.

The other person's shadow grew larger and bigger as Bucky walked further. When Bucky saw the library and a few he nearly bolted to the building. When he was inside he saw that it was just a lost dog. He was losing it. He sighed his mind relaxing and then jolting when he felt a hand touch his shoulder.

"Hey, are you okay mister?"

A warm voice made his heart pump faster than it already was he felt like he was going to have a heart attack. When he turned around he was met by easily the most beautiful girl. It was you. He thought in that instant that everything about you was perfect the way your eyes looked at him, the way your face was adorable, the way your hair fell behind your ears, the way your lips looked the most perfect shade along with your eyes. He promised himself when he got home that he'd paint his whole apartment that color.

He went cross-eyed from staring at the shape of your lips and how they shaped around the words he couldn't hear from being so entranced by you. He started to feel his heartbeat out of his chest. When he thought of how you'd look with pretty lips wrapped around him and dull bedroom eyes looking up at him through thick eyelashes. He needed to stop, he just met you and now he's so hard against his jeans that he was sure that he was bruised.

And your hands on his shoulders shaking him wasn't helping him. His trance was broken when he realized what was happening. "Huh?" That is all he managed to make out through his lust-clouded mind. You did this face that made him die, it was when your eyebrows furrowed and your lips went to one side pursed together. Your eyes were cut at him and he knew he was in trouble but he just couldn't help being enticed by you.

"I asked if you needed help," You stopped and wagged a finger in his way "You're all sweaty." He looked down at himself and you were right, his hair stuck down and his shirt showed pools. Shit. Way to embarrass yourself, Buck. You're sweaty, you're horny for some girl you just met. He was a trainwreck embodied. "I'm okay, it's just the heat," Bucky spoke with uncertainty. He had no idea what was happening why he was acting like this. He usually never felt like this around a girl, especially one he just met.

Your face was still cut, your lips went back into the fullness of how they are naturally. "Weird but okay." You spoke under your breath since it wasn't sweating weather outside. You were going to be the death of him and thankfully there were only a couple of other people in the library since it was the morning of a weekday.

"There's a cool spot where the ac is over there." She turned and pointed towards the left somewhere. He couldn't concentrate in the slightest even if he tried. And god your body from just the standard shirt and jeans you wore he felt his turn into skinny jeans.

"But anyway if you need me just yell, its y/n." And you left and when you walked away to assist someone else he got the perfect view of your ass. He scurried into the thick of the bookshelves and triple-checked if anyone was around him and adjusted himself.

It was so painful to not jump your bones right there. He rubbed his face with his hands and groaned. Get it together Buck. He realizes that he was going to have to go and talk to you again since he had to check the book in. He mentally stabs himself in the neck.

He calms himself down enough so that he could talk to you again. He feels like a prepubescent boy talking to his crush. Bucky guessed that he lost his cool with talking to girls over the years since he stopped. This was hell. You were at the front desk, the one in front of the door. You were reading some book that he didn't know.

He took a moment to admire the way your hair frames your face, the way your ass jutted out so you could lean over the desk on your forearms. Your free hand, the one not holding your page was used as a support beam for your face under your chin. God you were so beautiful, he hooked his finger under the collar of his shirt and started to flick it back and forth to generate air.

He was the human-dog drooling over a mate. He hated himself for not getting to know you and he already felt like this towards you. He was a monster but he wasn't impolite; he drew the line there. He was in the clouds that he didn't notice you staring at him with squinted eyes. "Can I help you, sir?" Your voice hung on sir in his mind.

He couldn't help but envision you beneath him moaning sir. "Uh, yeah, there's this book" He startled himself when his voice croaked out a response. He patted the pocket of his jacket and had a crisis when he thought he left it at home. But when he shoved his hands into his pocket he let out a smile of relief and grabbed it and slid it over to you on the other side of the desk.

"I need you to check that in and then" He stopped and searched for the piece of paper Yori gave him. He found it crumpled as lint in the bottom of his other pocket and the words faded. "Shit, uh, and check out this." He shoved his hands in his pocket and looked at his feet afraid of confrontation. You silently grabbed the book and checked it in and grabbed the note. You couldn't make out a single letter. Your eyebrows pinched together and when he looked up quickly and then darted his eyes away. He knew that you couldn't.

He wanted a sinkhole to open up and swallow him whole. You scratched the back of your neck trying to decipher the note "I can recommend something similar to the book you turned in, I'm sorry but I can't read this." You spoke with sincerity. And walked out behind the desk and poor Bucky followed you like a lovesick puppy.

You cursed Jordan, another employee for putting the desired book on the top shelf. The bookshelves were very tall and you weren't short but you weren't 7' foot either. You pinched your nose shutting your eyes and put a hand on your hip. "Do you see the book at the very top with the red back?" You muttered and Bucky looked up and saw the issue. "Do you want me to grab it for you?" Bucky looked at you with the softest eyes and you couldn't help but admire them.

You shook your head and lord you were about to melt. His body was brushed up against yours, you could've moved but you really didn't. You could feel the texture of his jacket against your soft skin and you cursed yourself for blushing. He took notice and let a small smile creep on his face when he handed you the book and your head was hung low when you walked back behind the desk.

Bucky guessed that he didn't completely lose his effect on girls. When you were checking out the book he noticed the book you were reading. It was The hobbit. He actually enjoyed the book when he read it when it first came out. He didn't take an interest in fantasy and so he shrugged it off until he actually read it.

When you stamped the books inside the page and slid it back. Bucky smirked "You know they all die in the end." The pure confusion on your face was amusing and with that, he left.

When he got home he started to feel the metal of his arm become rusted and thinking back it had been a while since the last time he cleaned it. He was wanting it to fall off so bad that he forgot he actually needed it.

He wondered where the girl went that texted him before. He didn't want to bother her by texting her first that to him was unnatural. It didn't bother him that much since he used to. And that the date was tomorrow so she would either show up or not and he'd suffer the consequences either way.

He went to the bathroom to grab the grease and a rag he uses every time in the cabinet under the sink.

He stopped shortly catching himself in the shattered mirror. The bandage on his chin began to fall off God forbid it started to at the library. He took it off slowly, the hair of his stubble getting caught in the crossfire. There was a bright pink little scar where the gash was. His skin healed relatively fast but it never cured the scars. He figured if his chin was healed that his hand should be.

He unwrapped his hand slowly for some reason he was scared of what it looked like. When he finally finished unwrapping his palm was littered with scars ranging in size. He touched the scars to see if they hurt with his metal hand and nothing.

Just a scar.

Bucky grabbed the grease and took off his jacket and boots and the first time he moved in he sat on the couch.

It was stiff as ever and it never got out of the store phase. He poured some grease on the white rag and it turned brown and he started to put it in the creases where he noticed it too slow. His mind ran back to you that never happened to him. God he was caught red-handed too, he'd have to take a very long and cold shower when he was done cleaning his arm. The rest of the evening all he could think about was what would happen tomorrow and how he'd destroy the girl of his dreams.

Bucky spent Friday constantly checking his phone for two reasons.

1) to see if his admirer would message him and

2) always checking the time.

He honestly couldn't wait; it's been forever and he was excited about something new. For change. The only source of entertainment he had was the book he checked out earlier. It wasn't the book he was supposed to get. The book in contrast was called American Psycho.

Bucky was about halfway and he fairly enjoyed it. Although it disturbed him since he found similarities in himself with Patrick Bateman. Bucky laughed at all the dark jokes and liked all the points where Patrick lost all sanity; it was the highlight of the book.

Bucky flipped one of the knives carelessly in the hand that wasn't occupied by the book. Bucky loved the power a single knife had. A single slip of the wrist could end something as fast as it began. Time flew by when simple hobbies turned into jobs. He cursed himself because it was seven o clock and he had only an hour to go to the restaurant which was the sushi place that he and Yori used to eat at.

He texted the directions to the girl, he grabbed his glove and jacket and shoved the knife in the back of his belt and fled down the stairs and out the door, and ran the rest of the way.

You sat at the small petite table, your phone clutched in your hand carefully watching the time. When it turned to 8:55 your gut twisted. Maybe he didn't like you as much as you liked him.

The waitress came by once again asking if everything was okay and if you'd like to eat and each time and you'd have to politely decline. You crossed and uncrossed your legs, they grew numb from you sitting in the wooden chair for the past hour. You didn't know what to wear so you opted for a sleek white dress and some heels.

You hoped you didn't overdress and make the wrong impression. You sipped on your water looking through the window to find any hint of your lover boy. You knew what to look for since you knew who it was. But maybe he didn't come and you were set up. How embarrassing this was. Yori told you that he was stubborn but he seemed pretty into you at the library. You know Yori through Leah, an employee at the restaurant who was a friend of yours.

She promised you that she would pay for your meal every time you ate there. How could you refuse? You sighed and began to get up and leave since you thought Bucky gave up on wanting to go on the date. You quickly sat down when you heard the bell of the door ring open and then there he was in all his glory.

Bucky Barnes, in the same leather jacket but you couldn't believe how good he looked underneath the dim light. His bandages were now gone and his face was sullen and structured from the shadows that made his face deepen. You smiled your ruby lips catching Bucky's attention and he hadn't seen something so pleasing to the eye in ages. Although he was confused since he didn't know that it was you who he was texting was there something going on that he didn't know about?

He pulled out the chair and sat across from you with his face stern. "Why didn't you tell me it was you that I was talking to?" He spoke slowly and his head tilted in question like a puppy's. "Yori told me about how you are with dating and he was afraid of you always being alone, and he gave me your number, I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

You fiddled with your fingers when you talked you were nervous about his reaction. You knew all about Bucky's reputation and embarrassing enough growing up you developed a crush on him, so you jumped for this opportunity.

You loved how strong and brave he was and even though he was brainwashed you thought of him as a good person. He chewed on the inside of his cheek thinking of what were the right words to say. "Just no more secrets from now on." With that, he waved down the waitress for a bottle of Shōchū.

After the half, the bottle was gone you couldn't help but be in wonder from how he managed to be able to drink all that meanwhile you were still sipping on your first shot. Every sip you took you gagged and your face turned into a kid who took their first sip of alcohol which made Bucky laugh.

Dinner was going along nicely there were many jokes and stories shared but Bucky couldn't help but be skeptical of how this could work. Bucky was severely messed up and couldn't care for another. He wanted to but he was just incapable, maybe he could just live this lie and things could be normal.

When they called for closure Bucky finished laughing at some remark you made, you and he were sat there talking for a couple of hours. It was just so easy to talk to him. Although you did notice a few times he would wince in pain and put his face in his hands. You thought it was odd but shrugged it off from his excessive drinking. Speaking of the devil he asked

"Do you want to go to my place. There have been complications with my tv so we can't watch a movie, but I can keep you company." You smiled a drunken buzz of Shōchū. Not nearly did you drink as much as Bucky but it was still written across your features. Your face flushed pink and your body made of jello hung off of Bucky's arm the whole walk to his house and Bucky every now and then had to pick you up.

Bucky didn't want to do anything rash to you but in the back of his mind, something kept itching it made it so painful that he couldn't ignore it. It kept making him shake his head and wince it was like a headache but much more painful. When he got into his apartment you took notice of what he meant by complications of a totaled tv. You shed off your heels and sat on the tv nervous to be in Bucky's house, your form off-putting to Bucky.

He sat down across the couch from you and he became hurt by you sitting so far away from him. "Are you scared of me or something?" He spoke grimly staring at the floor, his face holding no emotion to his words. "What? no!" You were shocked by his words. How could he assume that you were scared of him? Bucky looked your way and a strange look appeared in his eyes.

"Then why are you sitting so far away from me?" He gritted his teeth and his hands turned into fists, they were clamped tightly together on his thighs and this side of Bucky did scare you. He wasn't Bucky, he looked like him but his whole persona changed in the span of minutes. You wondered if it was something you said or did.

You became fearful when he fell off the couch onto his knees his head clutched in his hands. He started to scream not like the ones before this one was full of pain and torment. The moon's light made this scene unfold a lot more sinister. What was happening to him, why was he acting this way? Then all of a sudden he grew very quiet nothing could be heard other than your breathing.

You were confused and scared but you did care for Bucky and in his position, you assumed he was in serious need of help. You walked carefully taking notice to not step loudly to provoke him. You crouched down your dress falling over your feet, you reached your right hand out hesitant towards Bucky.

You stayed with your hand on his shoulder

"Bucky?"

You whispered softly, scared to disturb him. Everything was at ease at a calm one that felt too unrealistic.

That was true because a few seconds later Bucky grumbled out

"Who the hell is Bucky."

He slung around his body twisted and grabbed a knife from the back of his belt and stabbed you straight into the heart with it. Before you could even have time to run it was over.

The white of your dress now became a soaking deep red. The way your eyes forever open to the moon the way the moon took your life. And that day was when Bucky Barnes lost his sanity and forever came the winter soldier.

*A few months later*

She sat with her legs crossed, her hair tied up perfectly.

Her posture evenly to the ceiling while sitting. The only one that a soldier would perfect. She read over his portfolio over and over to get every last detail to stick in her mind so she wouldn't forget.

She breathed heavily finishing the last sentence. She took off her glasses and shut the case file on her lap, and put her right elbow up on the white seat, her glasses in the same hand.

She pursed her lips staring at the man in front of her and sat on the white couch in front of a forest mural. He was in all black a blank face, his hair a little longer and his stubble now thicker.

He played with the pink protruding scar on his right hand. Pushing and watching the blood rush to it. She wrote that in the notebook.

When he caught notice he stopped and tilted his head slightly. He narrowed his eyes and stared at her.

He was convicted of third-degree murder and numerous accounts of other convictions.

She thought over all the things that were stated in the portfolio but what struck her the most was that he drank excessively and faked being drunk just to feel

"more human."

She thought of a way to form a sentence to not upset him about what he's telling her to see if what he recollected matched what was in the documents but there was no easy way to do that.

She listened to him finish the last of what he was telling her:

"And that's how the story ended."

Fin.

87 notes · View notes

guudak · 4 years

Text

andante, andante

pairing: jungkook / oc genre + tags: college au, f2l, alcohol, pining word count: 7,522 The aftermath of your best friend singing that ABBA song, clumsily flirting with you and then drunkenly professing his love to you multiple times in the same night.

“Is he ok? Namjoon, what’s he doing?”

“He’s severely hungover,” he explains to you, propping an arm on the windowsill. His hand gestures. “This is his remedy.”

You look out the window again, overseeing the frat’s backyard, and down below at the deck - is the person you sought. The gales shake the trees, you can hear it howl, and not to mention the downpour of rain that had you soaked to the skin through your jeans between your sprint from the bus stop to here. You look back at Namjoon, disbelieved. “What, sitting in a hot tub outside in the middle of a hale storm?”

“Erm, well, not the storm bit. That was just unfortunate. Sitting meditatively in a hot tub though, yeah. He does that a lot, moreso when he has something on his mind.” He peeps a discreet eye at you while you claim a seat on the ledge. Your arms cross, huddling your oversized cardigan over yourself as you glance back at the mop of matted black hair on the deck. Jungkook is sitting very still, laying back, eyes closed and his neck craning upwards towards the gloomy sky. A breath of air expels from your nose when you imagine how cold the rain must be.

“I really wanted to talk to him in person … I don’t know, do you think I should have waited a few days?” You turn to Namjoon who shakes his head.

“It’s good you came here. I think it would have left him to assume the worst and overthink otherwise, and you know what he’s like - better to confront him sooner than later. He’s been in a kind of sad, mopey daze since this morning.”

Your lips purse together as you mull this over. “I don’t necessarily want to confront him about it now, not if he doesn’t want to yet. I just want to see him and … make sure he’s ok. Because you know, that … overthinking thing he does.”

The upward lift of Namjoon’s lips is soft, the same kind of softness that’s perceptible in his eyes. The look reminds you of Jungkook’s own gentle demeanour. “I think seeing you here will disorient him a litte, but I think deep down he’ll be relieved. ”

He invites you to sit in the warmth of the lounge downstairs while you wait. The house of Beta Tau Sigma is cosy, and your favourite visits are always during the winter period when they’d decorate the interior, reminding you very much of the setting of a classic Christmas movie. Alas, however, it isn’t winter, and there are still strewn cups around and a broken lamp on the table in front of you; consequence of the party they hosted the previous night.

You’re surprised Jungkook remembers. He’d been so far-gone yesterday, yet you woke up this morning to four successive texts from him -

i’m sorry

im so so sorry.

can we talk

please

You’d thought over a tactful reply; taking into mind Jungkook: despite the calm, rational front he has - is emotional, an individual with a soul as sensitive as they come. You had to be careful with what you said, but soon after aborted all efforts when you’d found yourself backspacing each time. You prefer face-to-face conversation, and for something like this - you couldn’t possibly venture any other approach that would be befitting. For anyone else, perhaps. But Jungkook isn’t just someone else. He’s your best friend.

You check the text in reply that you’d left for him from two hours ago, which is still left unread.

hi jungkook i’d love to talk

are u ok

Sleeping it over had dulled the shock from the night before, as hearing it from him had been a double whammy for both your head and heart. You hadn’t known what to think, hadn’t known what to say.

In his tastefully tipsy state he’d been very happy. The chirpy go-lucky sort of happy that made you coo. Tipsy Jungkook is sweet and endearing, more affectionate and made it his mission to pull you with him to the karaoke machine. You’d been friends with him long enough to know that he could sing. He’s a soft singer; has a voice that could be lullaby to late sleepy evenings, it’s one you’d heard snippets of because he did it without conscious thought; he hummed in the car, while waiting in line - one of his many mannerisms that makes clear when he’s in his head.

“ABBA? Good choice,” you’d commented, after he jabbed the numbers on the remote. He budged over so you could sit beside him on the armchair. So cramped and close that you moved to drape your leg over one of his, and he welcomed it. “Not their most popular song, but definitely one of their most soulful. That’s a good one, it’s one of my favourites,” and then he stilled.

At the cease of his movements, you’d found your spine straightening just slightly, as if on guard, but for what you hadn’t been sure. You were about to ask him if he was ok, only to be taking the brunt of his bright puppy eyes that smile at you.

“Me too,” he’d said, with that characteristic gentleness shining in his orbs.

A few hours later, he’d morphed from sweet boy-next-door with the angel voice to himbo football jock slash and quote “pussy-whisperer,” courtesy and words verbatim of Park Jimin, who vibed with Jock Jungkook like a long lost brother.

The amount of girls that suddenly flocked to him and sat on his lap had you reeling in hysterics to the extent that you had to bury your face in Hoseok’s shoulder. Even when Jungkook’s on the football team, you’d never thought of him once as a jock. Didn’t they say all jocks are athletes, but not all athletes are jocks? He’d never lived up to the greasy college stereotype. Turned out maybe some alcohol was missing in the mix. Was this what you were missing? Who knew he had it in him?

“How many have you had, man?” Hoseok had asked, and Jungkook grinned, mouth lop-sided, before then thwacking him solidly on the back.

“I’m good, thanks for asking, man.”

“That wasn’t what I - ok,” Hoseok winced, clutching at his shoulder blade, and exchanging a bemused look at you.

You were alert to the sliding gaze of Jungkook on you. He slid into the chair close beside you, and you propped your elbow onto the counter. Head resting in your palm, you’d anticipated it.

“Hey, cutie.”

And there it was.

Your mouth twitched during your attempt to stifle your laugh, but you were eager to play along. You straightened, not shy to look him direct in the eyes, even when his own wandered to your midriff. “Hey.”

A moment’s pause, before he let out a wistful sigh.

“Holy shit, I love your boobs.”

Hoseok spat into his cup, a succession of coughs after.

“No, I’m just saying, from a non-biased, impersonal point of view …” He made a vague, rounded motion in the air with his hands, “- they’re really nice. I’m saying this objectively.”

“Objectively,” Hoseok wheezed. You aimed a calculated kick at his ankle.

“Thanks! They’re not much but they’re cute, I grew them all by myself.”

Jungkook hummed in acknowledgement, a critical eye on you and his head bobbing solemnly. “You did a good job.”

“Oh my God,” Hoseok was crying; head ducked, full-blown tears of laughter, ears pink and slapping the countertop. “I’m not drunk enough for this.”

“Yours are pretty neat, too,” you told him.

He looked down at the outline of his chest. “You think so? I’ve been working out but they could do with a bit more volume.”

Hoseok was doubling over, desperate to leave but at the same time rooted to the spot, thumping his chest to stop himself from choking. “I can’t take this anymore. I’m gonna die if I stay any longer. See you, guys.”

He left, leaving you alone with Jungkook and a few others in the kitchen. “You alright?” you asked, and he nodded again, smiling tiredly and head lolling a little to the side.

“Did you like the song I sang for you earlier?”

“You sang it for me? How sweet of you,” you cooed, cuddling up to his side. “You know, if you wanted to touch my boobs, if you asked I think I’d be ok with that.”

He seemed hesitant. “You’re bullshitting.”

“Ok, maybe I am a little,” you chuckled, feeling the rumble resonating from his chest.

“Seriously,” he murmured, and for a millisecond, you swore you detected the tone of the Jungkook - not this Jungkook who was a confident force, but the one you were most familiar with, “I think I’d -”

Jimin’s voice boomed above the stereo, “Jungkook! It’s your turn! Get your ass back here!”

A heavy sigh was drawn out from him as he slid his chair back. Though, he waited for you to lift your head from his chest before doing so.

“See you.” He winked at you before following Jimin’s ongoing calls. Though, more of a wink and a half. He never could wink properly with just one eye, both had to be involved.

Then came the finale.

The most recent drunken Jungkook phase - one you’d never witnessed beforehand. If there was anything you could have concluded, it was that beyond his sober level-headed exterior, he must have a lot of pent up anger. Jungkook in drunken phase three transitioned between a three colour spectrum of moods and you’d barely caught up.

Exhibit one -

“The ocean is so important!” he cried, literally cried as he began bumbling about blue whales and the sheer plastic in the ocean, morosed how the first piece of plastic ever produced still hadn’t decomposed.

It was no help that Namjoon enthusiastically joined in - the fucking nerds, until Jungkook started bawling and knocked back the salt shaker on the countertop mistaking it for a shot of tequila.

You’d panicked and dragged him to the nearest bathroom to wash it out of his eyes. The seconds that followed afterwards, was you rubbing his back while he sobbed and puked the hearty contents of his stomach into the toilet.

Exhibit two -

“If any dude is giving you a hard time, chances are - you’re hotter than them. And on top of that, they made you cry, making you a better person than them!” he proclaimed. Once you’d helped him clean up, he’d bumped into Ola - a girl you recalled was in his media class, and was crying outside of the door of the bathroom you and Jungkook had been in.

She’d sniffled her way through a story about a boy she’d been talking to for six months, and Jungkook was as revved up as his ocean speech while he pep-talked her about how heartless the guy was; that he gave good guys a bad rep; and that she simply deserved better. Of course, you’d agreed with him. It sounded all too familiar to something you’d said in the past, though who could blame him for adopting your mannerism of speech when he’d spent so much time with you?

Exhibit three -

“Hey, Chad! Why the fuck do you hate poor people?!”

You were mortified. “Jungkook! Literally, where did you get that conclusion from?!”

“He plays lacrosse and owns a golf cart!”

You groaned, yanking at his arm away from Chad - captain of the boys’ lacrosse team, and who’d also fortunately passed out on the couch, otherwise Jungkook for sure would have had his face beat in. Though, you’d like to think that Jungkook would win, for sure, but you promised sober Jungkook that you’d take care of drunk Jungkook.

So that was that.

By now you’d contracted a stress-induced migraine, by which your own best friend was accountable for. And you thought - by God, did he have to deal with this every time you went to a party together while you’d run rampant? This had been an eye-opener, and you should definitely be considerate next time because drunk people were babies, and not in the cute way either.

And finally: exhibit four.

“Hey.”

You endured all the pet names, had endured being called the Apple of his Eye, Angel Face, and his Compass Star, because flirty Jungkook had been throwing pet names around all night. You’d seen and heard it yourself. But nothing would have prepared you for what he’d say next.

You glanced at him, just a second to look away from your phone screen. “Yeah?”

His eyes drooped, form slouched, and head atop his folded arms on the countertop. It was just after midnight, and the kitchen was a quiet lull, besides you and Jungkook who were sitting together; and then there was Jimin and Taehyung, and Seokjin by the sink in their own private conversation … and whatever it was that Taehyung was doing. Admittedly you hadn’t been paying much heed nor did you endeavour to find out.

Body curling into himself; Jungkook looked so much smaller than when he stood to his full stature.

“I’ve got it bad,” he mumbled, wistfully, “real bad. So bad - I’m doomed bad. End of the fucking world baaad.”

Your hands rubbed at his nape, tender fingers toying with the longer hairs there. He’d been growing it out, and he looked good. You tucked a tuft of hair behind his ear. “What makes you think that?”

Again - the glossy puppy eyes that gazed up, contemplating you like you’d fallen from heaven.

His smile was meek, as shy as the drawling voice that spoke, “I … I really think you’re my soulmate. I don’t like saying it too much but I … like, love love you, but we’re only best friends. Someday you’ll date for real - instead of flings, I’d have to accept it. I don’t think I’ll be ok, but I will be, jus’ will take time to get over you. Have done it a few times before. I’ll be ok.”

Your hand stilled, fingers still tangled in his locks.

Rendered motionless, like air had been punched out of you from the stomach, unable to bring yourself to salvage the words. Breathless, all you could bring yourself to do was to weakly call his name.

He hadn’t heard you, and he yawned, leaning into your touch. His body trembled with his giggles. “One time, you were sooo drunk. You were so drunk, don’t think you remembered - blacked out. You flirted with me that whole evening. After that … after that I became obsessed with you forever.”

It was with a sinking stomach when you’d realised that you couldn’t recall that night at all.

Gulping, you peered down at the mop of tangled hair on the countertop, wishing for nothing else but to properly see his face, but it was half-hidden where he’d snuggled into his arms.

“Jungkook?” you whispered, gently moving away the hair that flopped over his eyes. “Jungkook?’

No reply. Just steady, heavy breathing.

No reply, because he’d fallen asleep.

It’s a splitting headache that rouses Jungkook from heavy sleep. One of those slumbers where he wakes up groggy, as if he hasn’t rested at all despite it being hours since. He tries to get up, but to no avail. His limbs are leaden heavy, and he collapses back onto his bed within seconds of mustering the strength to hoist himself up.

There are a series of knocks on the door but what’s the point of knocking when Jimin barges in anyway. He snickers seeing Jungkook: a sad, spectacular heap on the bed with a bitching hangover to boot.

“Oh, how the mighty have fallen.”

“Shut up,” Jungkook drawls, barely recognising the cadence of his own voice. He throws an arm over his face, brow tightening as he shuts his eyes to recall anything that happened hours prior, but even that’s too much of a Herculean effort that his brain isn’t willing to commit to at nine in the morning. Hangovers are not worth the night before for this - this is a different kind of hell.

Jimin places a glass and a jug of water on his bedside table. “Good morning to you too, sunshine.”

“Thanks,” he replies. He at least has enough strength to reach for the glass. When he sits up a hand goes instantly to knock against his temple, as if it would stop whatever invisible vice it is that’s squeezing and hammering at his brain from all directions. He notices Jimin’s narrowing scrutiny on him.

“You remember anything from yesterday?”

“Honestly, not really. Just some bits here and there.”

“Blacked out, huh.” If Jimin hesitated it’s only for a split second, he stuffs a hand into his hoodie pocket for his phone. “There’s something I wanna show you. Not sure if you’re gonna like it much.”

“Can’t be that bad,” he says, but Jimin proffers a look, and Jungkook frowns. “... Right?”

Jimin licks his teeth in a way that makes Jungkook’s stomach drop just slightly.

“Famous last words, bud,” is all he replies.

The slide of the back doors from the kitchen is what jerks your head up, followed by the sound of feet pattering on tiles. Suddenly, there’s a rise of anxiousness. Until you drum into your head that, no , this is nothing for you to be anxious about. There are the natural nerves budding that stem from confrontation, and you think this may be it.

Towel around his shoulders and dampened hair swept back, Jungkook doesn’t notice you at first when he appears by the doorway. He walks, gazes ahead like his legs are functioning on autopilot - but when he does notice you, he could have skidded. The way he halts and how his body almost springs backwards into the kitchen as soon as he sees your form huddled on one end of the couch, and how Basil - the frat’s cat, is curled by your lap, peacefully asleep and indulging in the soft stroke of your knuckles on his head.

His expression mirrors a man who wants so desperately to sink into the floorboards. Or to dash back into the hale storm and fully immerse himself head to toe into the hot tub’s waters and never surface again.

The first few seconds of silence is heavy. As if you’re both still trying to process the presence of the other. It’s an uncomfortable silence you’re not accustomed to when with Jungkook. He’s always leaned more to the quiet side of the spectrum; introverted, introspective. But silences had always been comfortable, even when you two clashed.

You endeavour for eye contact but he’s suddenly so transfixed on a shadow upon the wood flooring.

“Hey,” you begin, quietly, like the walls are listening in on you. It’s enough gentle encouragement for him to peer up. He hides his hangover well but the mirth, the glint; the starry eyedness that reflected in his orbs from the night before is absent, and no amount of hot tub therapy could conceal the physical and mental exhaustion.

“Hey.” He sounds almost breathless, smothers the tremor in his voice with a cough. “You’re … you’re soaked.”

“So are you.” Your tone is apologetic, “Sorry I came on short notice, I messaged you but I don’t think you saw it.”

He winces. “Right - sorry. My phone died. Haven’t checked it since.”

You muster a small smile. “I thought as much.”

Another breath. Another nervous lilt in his voice. “I’m sorry. Not just the phone thing but everything I said to you last night.”

You sigh. “Don’t be. It’s just … I’m surprised you remember what you said.”

He takes a breath, bicep flexing when he rubs anxiously at his nape. “I don’t,” he admits. “Jimin told me. It’s in this video he took last night of Taehyung eating cake off the floor, you could hear my voice in the background.”

“Ah. That explains it.” Your lips pursed. “Did you mean what you said?”

His eyes round and flash to yours. He chews his lip, throws a glance at his feet. “... Yeah,” he whispers.

“Not just the alcohol talking?”

“No.”

You’re quiet, continuing to stroke Basil who’s still fast asleep beside you.

“Sor—“

“Stop apologising,” you snap. You didn’t mean to, but his shoulders tense, and it makes you wallow in guilt that only he out of everyone has been able to make you feel. You haven’t thought this through and now you’re here you’re saying all the wrong things and asking all the wrong questions. But you remember it’s him, and recollect yourself. “Jungkook - it’s just … it’s just a lot to unpack.”

You peer up, his nod is slow, but he gets it.

He’s tired, you see it clear as day. See it in the trudge of his walk, the dim in his eyes, and neither of you talk on the way up. Not until you reach his room.

Despite your protests, he insists you help yourself to his draws for a spare change of dry clothes. It’s with that thought when you realise you still have yet to return several shirts to him with the promise of them all being washed and folded; washed and folded they are, but you never have been great at remembering to give them back. Putting it into perspective - maybe it is a little weird. Weird for two people who fall under the label of best friends. But then again you borrowed clothes from your own roommates all the time to the point you sometimes forgot whose is whose. It isn’t weird. Right?

While Jungkook goes for a brisk shower, you peel off your soaked clothes, hang them over a spot on his clothes rack. His room is mostly devoid of personal touch, though there are a few photos of his high school football days and some of him and his friends pinned to a board. Otherwise, he’s never had much interest for interior decoration, but he likes his room clean and uncluttered.

There’s a knock on the door a few minutes later. “Are you …?”

“Yeah,” you say. “I’m done.”

The door cracks open, and Jungkook appears, adorned in another change of clothes. His hair is still damp, fluffed at the patches that have managed to dry and his cheeks are pink from the heat of the shower, but he’s less rugged than earlier. Still tired, though. So tired that you don’t question it when he makes a beeline for his unmade bed and collapses face-first into his pillow. You perch on the edge, pulling his duvet over him.

He wriggles closer to the wall, like he’s making more room for you to sit. You appreciate the gesture and shuffle closer. Outside, the wind still howls.

“You should dry your hair properly,” you murmur, fingers at the damp ends of his nape.

“Yeah … prob’ly should,” he sighs, muffled where his mouth is buried in his pillow.

You came here to talk about yesterday night, but maybe it’s a conversation for another time. You out of everyone should know how strenuous it is to have a heart-to-heart while being victim to a hangover that gives you the same capacity as someone half-dead.

You’re staring blankly at the wall, so occupied with the whistle of the winds, so lost in the strands between your fingertips - that when you peer down you’re met with half-open shining eyes, and a lazy blinking gaze directed upwards at your face.

“Yes?”

“Nothing,” he murmurs, like clockwork, and buries half his face again into the plush of his pillow. It’s enough time for you to catch the shy tilt of his lips before they hid again. It’s almost ironic, how you’re the one next to him while he nurses a hangover when it’s always been the other way round. Here, he’s so vulnerable. Your mind wanders to the possibility - what if it was the other way around? An alternate universe where it was you who serenaded Jungkook with karaoke and confessed.

In whatever reality, you imagine him to confront you in the way you did now. Perhaps approached it a little differently, would perhaps be a little gentler, but he would never give you the cold shoulder.

For now, you both pretend there’s been no drunken confession. Best friends, like how it’s always been, and you’ll discuss it all when the time comes.

At some point you’re lowering yourself next to him; your head on the same pillow, and your bodies beneath the same blanket. He’s warm.

And it’s peaceful, as comfortable as it always has been.

“Oh my God, where the hell’s your shirt? I haven’t seen you swim once so far,” you scoff, and Hoseok pulls a sour face.

“You’re talking big for being the one in the string bikini.”

You look at him in disbelief. “Yeah, but I actually used the pool?”

“Scooch over, babe.”

Your eyes roll skyward as he plops beside you on the loveseat. It’s another weekend, another frat, another party, another excuse for Hoseok to walk around without a shirt because there’s a pool. Correction: a further excuse for hoards of frat boys to walk around without a shirt, but at this point you’re desensitised to it.

The music booms, a dull vibration you feel through the ground.

Kappa Omega is infamous for their extravagant parties (at least, as extravagant as college parties can go). Compared to others it’s vastly over-the-top, with most of the guys getting in through connections just like how their college applications got past admissions, but it is what it is. They’re not all bad people, they hold parties for fundraisers but sometimes it can’t be helped not to feel sour when you see what they blow their money on. The Kappa Omega mansion is so big that you’d spent a good portion of the beginning of the night lost.

“Lucky bastards,” Hoseok mutters. He’s said that several times this evening. He’s only here for the booze and the cheese tray. He pops open another beer, chucks the bottle opener onto the low table in front of him, besides the cheese tray he stole from the kitchen. “Which frat party was it again when you blacked out and dived into the pool fully clothed? I can’t remember anymore.”

“We don’t talk about that, thanks,” you utter, wrapping your long cardigan tighter around your torso. “Have you by chance seen Jungkook around? I thought he’d be here by now.”

He looks up, mid-way from tipping back his beer. “Yeah, I saw him some time ago.”

“What, where?”

“Sat with some food by himself somewhere.” His arm gestures vaguely. “He looked a little sad. You know, in signature Jungkook fashion, you know how he gets sometimes.”

Your form slumps. “Right,” you murmur. It’s been over two weeks since the last time you saw him. Not that it’s unprecedented. He has football among other commitments that strung him away for days and sometimes weeks at a time, and you had your own as well.

Be that as it may, somehow it feels like the both of you are drawing the whole thing out. Not purposely, but definitely unnecessarily. Neither of you brought it up in your messages to each other either, and it hit you recently that, well - you miss him. You’ve seen him around campus, but never for too long. Nothing more than fleeting sightings of him and his disheveled hair in a half-pony while he rushes to class after football practice; a hand usually holding onto a snack while the other held onto the strap of his half-open duffel bag, but you only had time to exchange a wave and a look that held promise of your next meeting. The fact remains that you miss your best friend, and it would kill you for your friendship to be awkward because of what happened. You had every intention to talk to him tonight in person, and no dallying or delays this time.

Hoseok’s eyes squint your way. “What’s going on between you guys, anyway. You guys a thing or what?”

You sigh, “That’s the thing, I have no idea yet.”

“Yet.” His lips purse, contemplating you. “He really likes you, you know. So, like, go easy on him.”

Your eyes narrow. “How long have you known, then?”

“As if it was hard,” he scoffs, sitting back. “Guy wears his heart on his sleeve. You have to be thick as a brick not to notice.”

“Wow. Thanks,” you deadpan.

He stabs his fork into the blue cheese. “You know why him and Yerim broke up?”

“Oh no,” you morose, frowning, “don’t tell me it was because of me. I talked to her after they broke it off and she said it wasn’t.”

“Not entirely. But I think she was bending the truth a little so that you wouldn’t berate Jungkook about it. She’s a cool girl, really nice and a good sport. Knew you two were close and accepted that like a champ. But -” and he pauses for emphasis. A pause which is seconds too long, and then finally he puts his fork down, clutches one of your hands in both of his, and waits for you until you’re hanging on to his every breath while he chews and swallows the remaining in his mouth. He resumes, brightly, “it’s not my story to tell. So you better go and find him.”

You shove him. Harder this time - enough that he topples over, and he cackles obnoxiously.

“Prick,” you laugh, but rise to your feet. Your gaze spans the backyard, the pool. You spot a hot tub, but it’s filled with other students who are laughing and raucous.

“Ok, I’m going,” you announce, glancing at Hoseok who’s still very much captivated by the cheese tray before him. It does look really good. “See you in a bit.”

“Yeah, yeah, bye.”

The problem with knowing so many people, and having the same friends as those people - is that in situations where you try to pull yourself away from yet another drinking game you’re taken by the elbow by someone else. Having all of your mutual friends congregated in one domain that is the Kappa Omega House has made your search for the ever-elusive Jeon Jungkook a grand Pain in the Ass. He’s like gold dust. You’ve texted him but you’ve yet to receive a reply.

“Hey, have you seen Jungkook?”

“I saw him at the front porch a few minutes ago?”

“... Seriously? I’ve literally just been there.”

You even scrambled over a balcony and leaped over a hedge when you tried to get away from Chad’s third invitation to join the game of chicken fight in the pool (a parkour stunt that you like to think would put Peter Parker to shame). You give yourself a quiet moment to catch your breath.

It’s then you realise you’re in a part of the backyard you swear you haven’t been in before. You can presuppose why. It’s dimly lit, less people, and the boom of the stereo is still loud, but is more of a distant noise in comparison to the other parts of the house you’ve been in. Like what the hell, how big is this place?

“Sooo, you’ve found him yet or what?”

You hear the voice before you see the face.

Unbelievable. So you cross paths with shirtless Hoseok for the third time and yet haven’t so much as had a hair’s glimpse of Jungkook.

“Nope,” you reply, quite miserably, hands stuffing into your cardigan’s large pockets. You feel for your phone. He still hasn’t seen your message. At this point you’re one teetering step away from letting go of the remaining wisps of your dignity and yell his name through a megaphone with a hope he'll come to you instead … you’ve probably done that while drunk before but you’re nowhere near tipsy now, and that’s besides the point.

Behind you, Hoseok hums, quite serene. When you look back you see he’s lowered his back onto the grass, his eyelids shut.

Eyes scanning this part of the backyard, it’s a different ambience to the atmosphere by the pool. More relaxed. There are students either sat or lying on the grass in small groups, their conversations a low murmur with the occasional twinkling sound of someone’s laughter rising above it. There’s a slabbed stone pathway that leads further up the grass, which then disappears behind a tall row of hedges, and with that you find yourself on your feet again.

“As much as it pains me to leave, there’s only so much of you I can take in one evening before I go crazy,” you tell Hoseok, who’s unbothered reply is no more than a lazy thumbs up from his spot on the grass.

It gets darker the further away you are from the house, but you’re led by the quiet warm-white glow of the lawn lights that highlight the path. It calms your mind to a lull that puts you at peace, something you desperately sought after your hopeless goose-chase just minutes prior.

The waters of a hot tub glow blue up ahead. You skid to a stop when you come closer and see someone’s in there; shoulders immersed and their head just above the water’s surface. What’s the phrase? When you stop looking for something, it finds you? That’s probably not how it goes, but it doesn’t matter. After futile searching, hedge jumping and greasy frat boy dodging, you finally found him. Of course he’d be in a place like this.

His eyes are dazed, mesmerised by the ripples in the water that his smallest movements create. He hasn’t yet noticed you coming.

You pad closer. “... Jungkook?” and like a switch, his spine straightens, goes rigid as a ramrod at your voice. He’s blinking, head shaking side to side as if to snap himself out of the trance that clouds his head.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” you exasperate.

He blinks. “You … you have?”

You scoff, amused at the way his brows knit. “Yeah,” you sigh, stopping so your forearms can lean on the sides of the tub. “May I join you?”

After a beat of hesitation - “Of course you can.”

You shrug your long oversized cardigan off of your shoulders, and double check that your phone is still in the pocket before you chuck it in a heap on the bench. You secure your footing on the step, eyes intercepting his own. His Adam's apple bobs when the rest of your body comes into view, and you shiver at the breeze but warmth engulfs you the second you’re in contact with the bubbling water.

“Feels good?” he asks, and you sigh contentedly, leaning back.

“Yeah.” If you really wanted to, you could fall asleep right here, right now. “What is it with you and hot tubs? Always knew you had a thing for them but never asked specifically why. Or does it just feel good?”

“Mainly that. The guys on my team use the excuse that it breaks up the lactic acid in your muscles after training, but it just feels good when you’re sore.”

“Huh.” When you crack an eye open, he’s already looking at you.

His lips purse. “Did you want to talk?” and when you nod he sighs, wearily. “I wanted to, honestly. But I … I guess I never felt ready to hear what you’re going to say.”

You frown. “What do you think I’m going to say?”

“I don’t know. That you don’t feel that way about me, which I’m fine with. I was never meant to let it slip, but I ended up saying all the things I didn’t want you to hear yet. And while I was drunk, of all things.”

You consider this, broach your tone carefully. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

His eyes avert to the water. “... Eventually. It would have been after graduation. No step three beyond telling you, no secret ploy to get you to fall in love with me, I only would have wanted you to know how I felt. I’d leave you alone and we’d finally move on with our lives. And what better timing than after graduation? But that’s not how it turned out, did it?” He laughs, but it’s with rueful discomfort.

“How long?”

He exhales. “A while.”

“I see.” You think hard for a second. “Even when you were with Yerim?”

He gnaws on his bottom lip, but you can tell he’s honest when he replies with, “Yeah. But I never pretended she was you.”

“Of course you didn’t, you’re not that type of person.”

At last, he does smile at that, and seeing the tilt of his mouth settles a warmth in your heart.

Part of you wants to ask what happened between him and Yerim, but you think perhaps it’s for the best you don’t know, at least now. It’s not your business nor his obligation to tell you.

Before you could dwell too much on your oncoming words, you continue barging forward or you’ll chicken out from what you’re going to say next.

“Jungkook,” you begin. “What if I said yes?”

A pause.

“What do you mean?”

“If you asked me out, and I said yes.”

He’s so bewildered he looks as if he’s just been slapped. Suddenly, something more serious shadows his features. “You know I’d never want you to date me just because. I’m fine with rejection, seriously, I’ll get over it. But I don’t want you to settle for less than what you want. You deserve someone you want, and if I’m not that person, that’s fine. You deserve -”

“Last time I checked, you don’t get a say on what it is that I do and don’t deserve. Who I deserve is for me to decide, so stop cutting yourself so short because you’re more decent than most of the guys I know.”

He shifts, looks away. “So what are you saying?”

“Should we try it?”

“What if it doesn’t work out?”

“Then it doesn’t work out,” you say, simply.

“But then it’ll be awkward.”

“You telling me that you became obsessed with me after I flirted with you for one evening while I was drunk already made it awkward. Not like we have anything else to lose.”

A breath of air expels from his nose in a chuckle. “Oh, ouch.”

“Jungkook,” you sigh. “It’s so easy to be around you. If it doesn’t work out, then it doesn’t work out, but how are we supposed to know how it’s going to turn out if we don’t even give it a chance? It’s going to be awkward either way but we’ll figure it out. Like with all the other crap we’ve gone through. I’ve been with enough guys to know that guys like you come far and few between, I trust you enough to want to do this. You’re one of those few guys I know I can trust, alongside Hoseok. Even though he can be a real bitch sometimes.”

Jungkook doesn’t rebuke you, but he laughs. It’s a sound you’ve never been more relieved to hear.

“So what do you think? I don’t want to force you into it. If you don’t want this, I’m fine with it. If you do, I’m fine with that too. Everything on my end is fine, so what about yours?”

If him confessing happened a year, or maybe two years earlier, you don’t think you would have confronted it in the way that you’d done now. You understand why Jungkook wanted to bide his time. You’re stubborn, fiery, and don’t think things through in the way that Jungkook does. If this happened two years ago, you can imagine you’d have yelled at him on impulse, asking him why, why he let it happen.

But there’s a very particular fondness you’ve honed for your best friend that has unfurled in the years of your friendship, to the point you couldn’t possibly imagine yourself putting blame on him for his feelings. It seems being friends with him has really mellowed you. While Hoseok is the friend you’re most similar to, your other pea-in-the-pod, Jungkook is the friend who balances you out. Someone so different to you, yet someone who still knows what makes you tick.

He’s a friend who doesn’t judge, but yet is always first to call you out whenever you’re out of line. A friend who waits until you’re inside of your dorm building before driving away. The type of guy who pays for dinner and doesn’t expect you to pay him back. A friend who makes sure you’re back home safely when you’re drunk, puts a glass of water next to you and watches over you to make sure you don’t choke on your vomit in your sleep.

Finally, after careful consideration, he nods. He nods, finally.

“So we’re doing this then.” You crack a smile, and he finds it difficult to suppress his own.

“Yeah,” he whispers. “Yeah, I guess we are.”

With an unchanging temper, as still and as serene as waters below the turbulent surface - Jungkook is your anchor, he always has been. The anchor that tethers your feet to the earth when the elements threaten to topple you over.

In the blue glow, you shuffle closer forward on your knees.

“Can I kiss you?” you murmur, and he chokes on his saliva, spluttering. You smile sheepishly. “Sorry it’s weird, you don’t have to let me if that’s going too fast. I just … I want to see what it feels like.”

He hesitates. “Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure.”

He mulls it over, but it doesn’t take much thinking. He stares at you, hard. But then you disrupt the stillness with a disarming smile, and unable to resist, he beckons you over. “Come here.”

It’s odd to straddle his lap at first. In the same way it is when you’re getting on a bike for the first time or any kind of first. He doesn’t make any first move, it’s you who he waits to initiate.

The path of your fingers trail slowly upwards, until they’re splayed against his chest. They remain there, and you detect the quick pattering of his heart, the rise of his chest. His breaths are deep but they’re controlled, and he feels sturdy beneath you.

Jungkook is stupid handsome, with the body to match. But that’s not what swells your heart. It’s not what pushes you to move further forward in his lap and finally press your mouth to the seam of his lips before you could think twice.

It’s how tenderly he gazes up at you. With the same sincerity and adoration he’d shown the night he’d confessed drunk. His eyes, an opening to his soul which is a whole other wonder.

When was the last time someone looked at you like that?

The kiss is soft. No sparks, no butterflies on your end - not yet, but somehow it still feels right. Like missing pieces that have finally fallen into place. Warmth and love spills from him. It saturates your body to the very tips of your ears, all the way down to your toes, like a slow, spreading glow. It feels good.

When shy pecks don’t become enough anymore, you get needy, touching and grasping for more of him. His palms press against your lower back, massaging the skin there, and eventually your mouth parts pliant for him.

“Oh,” he croaks, his head leaning forward so his cheek brushes yours. You can’t see his eyes, and you attempt to move but he curtains the planes of his face with his hair.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, having to strain to catch his whisper.

“I’m embarrassed.”

You chuckle, warmth spreading from the spot on your ear that his lips hover over. “How come?”

“Like, there are probably bricks softer than my dick right now. And … I really, really don’t wanna jizz my pants in a Kappa Omega hot tub. I would have hit my lowest point in life if I do.”

“Oh my God.” You’re almost crying, shoulders shaking with how hard you’re laughing.

“Please, I’m so serious right now. I’d never be able to redeem myself.”

“Would jizzing in an obscenely expensive hot tub be so bad?”

“Yes,” he emphasises. “Really bad, actually. Have you heard of that guy who ejaculated in a swimming pool and accidentally got twenty girls pregnant?”

“That sounds like fake news. There’s no way. Sperm aren’t homing torpedoes, Jungkook. They’d be unviable as soon as they’d be in the water. But if you want me to move back, I’ll move back.”

His face is taut, like he’s trying so hard. “Yes, please.” His eyes go stern, but there’s a nervous jitter you feel with the skin beneath your fingertips. “And just because I think it’s worth mentioning, I don’t think we should have sex straight away.”

“Oh. Right. I see,” you deadpan.

It’s his turn to cackle at the dead-set, disappointed look on your face. “What’s with that?”

Your eyes roll. “You know I’m kidding.” You brush the hair out from his eyes. “Jungkook, will you wait for me?”

His expression softens, and he hoists you until you’re pressed impossibly closer.

“Of course I will. However long it needs to be.”

a/n: when jk says you flirted with me the whole night and i became obsessed w you forever, yea that was from b99

originally posted on ao3! thx for reading!!! <33

#jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader

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lord-explosion-baku · 4 years

Text

Opia (Night 3)

Vampire!Shinsou x reader x Kirishima

warnings: sexual content, (i wouldn’t call it smut because it’s not graphic, but sex happens...), dark themes, drinking, MASSIVE TRIGGER WARNING FOR DRUNK DRIVING HIT AND RUN, blood, pain, mentions of abuse, mentions of sexual abuse, dead dove do not open, blood drinking, vampire shit, jealousy??

A/N: this honestly turned into a miniature vent??? idk what about, but this was kind of relieving to write. anyways, the reader is still kinda dumb... im not sorry

Night 3

The streets were alive with rabid students, elated to be over and done with the autumn semester. Winter break was starting up, and kids in your neighborhood were celebrating by tossing their notes and flash cards out wherever they could (which they thought was virtually anywhere), drinking the night away, and partying hard. You’d heard shrieks of joy and kids hollering at one another and there were a couple of boys from a nearby fraternity passing out fliers for a rager they were throwing tonight. They were supposedly combating against another party house and you had a vague idea who that house might have belonged to. You wanted nothing to do with it.

Ever since the last party you attended, you’d been feeling...watched—unsafe, even in your own home, and it was even worse when you went out. If you were the same as you were a couple years ago, you’d be out and in the same Jeep that had sped down your street for a total of three times this night, smiling and laughing with your friends, singing along, but now you were perfectly content staying home with your movies. Well, not perfectly content. You had to admit that you were lonely.

The phone at your side glared at you, and you had to pull your legs into your chest, locking your arms around them to ensure that you wouldn’t dial any numbers. But you wanted to. It was selfish, and you knew you shouldn’t, but you couldn’t fight the gravitational pull your phone had on your hand.

Just after two rings, Kirishima answered. “Hey, you! What’s up?” You could hear people talking around him. Damn.

“Hi...Ei…” you cringed at the nickname. Calling Kirishima anything but his last name or ‘Kiri’ felt unnatural to you, but when you hooked up with him in the past, you knew that he thoroughly enjoyed it when you called him, ‘Ei.’

“Hey…” Kirishima’s tone dropped. You were glad he wasn’t dumb; he could catch your mood from a simple greeting.

Shifting in your seat, you laid halfway down on your couch, staring out the window. You could tell from the subtle amber hue on your neighbor’s window that the sun wasn’t quite gone from the sky yet. If he was throwing a party, he must’ve just been greeting guests right now. It was early, but you were hoping it wasn’t too early.

“What are you up to?” You purposefully heightened the lilt in your voice to sound sweet—a little more coy than your norm in hopes of grabbing his attention.

“Who is it?” You heard someone—a gravely voice—ask on Kirishima’s end.

“Nobody. Shush,” Kirishima hissed, probably trying to cover the speaker. You didn’t mind being nobody. That was probably for the best. “Uhhh-“ He was walking now, and you heard even more voices and loud music playing. “Not much. Why?”

It didn’t take much to convince Kirishima to come over to your place. Just one, ‘I’m feeling uneasy and I don’t want to be alone,’ got him through the door in no time. You’d heard a few of his friends protest, telling him to just invite you to the house, but those demands went ignored which you were delighted about. You felt a little guilty using Kirishima’s righteous sense of gallantry for your own selfish gain, but that guilt dissipated as soon as you found him on your front porch.

Though it was winter, Kirishima sported basketball shorts and a tank that showed off his impressive brawn. He always used to say that he ran hot and never really got chilly, which you knew to be true when you pulled him into a snug hug. His arms were warm as they wrapped around you and he smelled vaguely like spicy cologne. Taking him in, you thought it wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

“Thanks for coming,” you murmured into his broad chest, “I know I’m just being a baby, but I’m glad you’re here.”

“Nah, it’s no problem at all! I wouldn’t leave a lady all alone in a big house like this.” He pulled his head away with his arms still wrapped around you. “You look really nice.”

You bit your lip. You didn’t do much besides shower and put a tiny bit of mascara on. You were in your pajamas shorts and you might have put on that one bra that made your chest draw more attention than usual, but you had on a simple look...and you tried very hard to obtain it. Judging by how Kirishima’s eyes kept flicking down to your cleavage, you knew that you’d pulled off your alluring nonchalance with success.

“Can I get you anything?” You asked while walking towards the kitchen while Kirishima unshouldered his backpack next to the couch. “Water? Juice?...Beer?”

“What are you gonna have?”

You casted a bashful look his way. “That depends entirely on you.”

“I’ll have a beer.” Kirishima grinned, his hands in his pockets.

Returning to the couch with two glass drinks in hand, you handed one off to Kirishima and seated yourself next to him, purposefully brushing your bare shoulder against his arm before settling in. Neither of you really cared about what played on the television so you chose a random channel, nervous about spending too much being indecisive, and landed on an old cheesy classic horror movie that was in black and white. Zombies. What a mood setter.

Idle chit-chat survived as the yawning drawls of menacing pale-faced villains gathering to hunt in herds. Kirishima asked how you did on your finals and you inquired about what exactly he was doing when you called. He admitted that there was a party at his house, but said he wasn’t all that into it, explaining that it was Kaminari’s idea.

“He said it was supposed to be a favor for a friend, but I think that was just another excuse to get shit-faced,” Kirishima explained, taking a sip of his second beer.

“Uh-huh…” A friend. You couldn’t help but think about how Kaminari previously referred to Shinsou as a friend, but quietly shook that thought out of your mind. You didn’t want to think about that strange, albeit beautiful enigma while you were with Kirishima.

A blood curdling shriek from the movie snapped your attention back to the scream. You were about to laugh and make a comment about chocolate syrup used as blood, when Kirishima tensed next to you. You looked up at him and saw that he was grimacing, even recoiling a little bit as the zombies claimed their next victim.

“Are you scared, Ei?” You asked, scooting closer to the redhead. You rested your head on his shoulder and peered up curiously, pouting your lips.

“Huh?” Kirishima eyed you. “Nah, ‘course not. I love scary movies.” You could tell by the tenor in his voice that he was lying. You thought it was cute that he was trying to tough it out. “What about you? Sure you can handle a scary movie after you’ve been feeling jittery all night?”

He poked your side and you jumped, laughing bashfully as you attempted to hold his hand back. You gazed up at him through your lashes, focusing on using that innocent look you’d used countless times before when you wanted something.

“I feel very safe with you here,” you whispered breathily, watching as Kirishima’s pupils expanded while your fingers tip-toed up his arms. You pushed yourself up and hooked a leg over his waist, settling evenly over the growing bulge in his shorts. You took the glass bottle out of his hands, kept eye contact with him while you took a sip, and placed the bottle on the side table.

Kirishima didn’t miss a beat, his large hands resting comfortably at your hips. “You really mean that?” He asked as his fingers curled around the hem of your shirt.

You leaned into him, your lips a breath away from his. “I mean everything that I say.” Then, you kissed him, slowly at first, smoothly drawing your tongue along his bottom lip, before he ran his hand up your back and pulled you deeper onto him.

Kirishima kissed you like he was drinking in the taste of you and still coming back thirsty. His hands explored your body as if it were both his first time and possibly the last, wanting to get the most out of you as humanly possible. One of his large hands trailed up your shirt, squeezing your side before cupping your right breast, while the other hand brushed through your hair, tugging on you lightly to elicit soft moans out through your lips.

The familiar sensation of being leered at came after Kirishima stripped you of your shirt.

“You’re so hot,” he breathed before kissing the rounded curve of your breasts. While he worked to unclasp your bra, you glanced back to the window to see your curtains drawn open. Kirishima noticed and asked, “should we close them?”

There was nothing to be seen out the window, but you still felt watched. The thing is, you didn’t care. If there happened to be mesmerizing indigo eyes staring at you through the window, then so mote it be. “It’s okay. Nobody’s out there.”

You sighed when Kirishima took your left nipple into your mouth, pinching your right one with his fingers until they were both taut and colored by the flush of your blood. You massaged his head while his sharp teeth worried at you, growing a little more aggressive. The creeping feeling of being monitored intensified tenfold when you reached down to stroke Kirishima through his shorts. He moaned when your thumb ran circles around the wet spot at the tip of his tent. He pulled you down so you were rubbing against him, and you felt an aching tension grow in your hips.

“Ei,” you mewled, pulling at the drawstrings of his shorts.

“Yeah,” he rasped in understanding, and briskly swept you over and onto your back.

Years ago, an ex-boyfriend of yours told you that he loved to fuck you because you weren’t breakable. He could bite you until you bled, choke you until you nearly passed out (sometimes you did), and hell, he’d even hit you a couple times while he was inside of you. He left bruises all over your body for everyone to see—like he wanted people to know who you belonged to. You didn’t really mind it, at least, not while you were with him. The thing is, he was wrong about you. You were very breakable. You had bones that could shatter and skin that could scar. But a part of you wanted to be broken and that was why you never stopped him, even when you knew he treated you wrong.

Kirishima never treated you wrong. He provided service between your legs, making sure you were shaking and clutching the couch cushions, barely able to form a coherent sentence by the time he was done, and he kissed you up your torso as he would make his way back to face you, where he asked if you were okay and if he could continue. When he was inside of you, he started off slowly, whispering to you all about how good you felt, how tight you were, how he thought about this all the time. No, Kirishima never treated you wrong, but he also knew about your ex-boyfriend. He knew he didn’t have to hold back with you. So after easing into you, after making sure you were well taken care of, he knew that he didn’t have to restrain himself. He hurt you too, like how you’d asked him to in the past.

With each stroke came a pained pleasure, a violent hunt searching for a violent release. He fucked you like you were a secret that he wished the world to know about, and when you yelped and when you cried, it was like you were granting him his wish. You knew it would come to this, and though you wouldn’t have asked him to hurt you now, you didn’t mind it. Kirishima was still a good guy—a sweetheart, your loving friend. You also knew that even the kindest, most caring guys had animalistic urges clawing at their skin. And how could you really deny him this clandestined divulgence when you were the one using him from the beginning?

He came inside of you, panting out a string of obscenities as he thrusted the last bit of his energy into your already tender core. He seized your lips as if they were his to take, though in that moment, one could say that they were, and cradled you in his strong, too-hot arms.

“Holy shit, that was...you were ncredible,” he muttered against your jaw as he began peppering you with more kisses. “I love you so fucking much.”

“What?” You put a hand to his broad chest and pushed back very gently.

Kirishima brows frowned. He was already realizing his mistake. “I...didn’t mean…”

“What?” You asked, gathering your shirt from off the ground. “You didn’t mean it, or you didn’t mean to say it?”

The absurd paradox that was your sex life: you could do pain, you could do borderline abuse, but love was where you drew the line. Kirishima knew that all too well. If you counted on your fingers how many times you have had this conversation with him, you’d need to use your toes as well.

“You know how I feel about you,” he argued, decently handing you your pajama shorts when you pointed at them. “I didn’t mean to say it.”

“Well,” you sighed, not even really having the energy to disagree. Instead, you grabbed your shoes.

“Where are you going?”

“I don’t know. I think I’m gonna go on a walk. I need to cool down.”

“Let me come with you. You said you were feeling uneasy earlier.”

“Are you going to try to talk about us?” You asked, using your fingers to make quotation marks around the word ‘us’.

“I don’t see what the big deal is!” Kirishima stood up to put his own shorts back on. He stopped you when you were at your front door, throwing his hand up to keep it from opening. “You know that I would be good for you…”

“Let me leave, Kiri.”

“Oh, so I’m Kiri now?”

“You’re always Kiri.”

Kirishima shook his head, incredulous. “Not when you want to fuck me. Then I’m Ei,” he accused. He had a point, but you were too upset to admit it. So instead, you crossed your arms and took a step back, glaring out the window. Kirishima sighed. “I just don’t understand why you won’t give us a chance.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it right now.”

“Then when?”

“Ideally? Never.” You reached for the doorknob, but Kirishima kept his hand on the door, unmoving. You shot him a look, softening up an ounce. “C’mon, Kirishima. Let me just...clear my head. I...am aware that I’m overreacting, and I’m sorry. It’s just a touchy subject, I guess.” Gingerly, you touched his arm, and despite knowing better, you gave him a peck on the cheek. “We can talk when I get back, okay?”

Kirishima exhaled, relaxing a bit. “Yeah, okay.” He cleared the way and ambled back to the couch, not casting you another glance until you opened the door. “Just be safe.”

“Will do,” you promised, and you were out the door.

The night air was brisk which you were thankful for. The cool was refreshing against your more-than-hot skin, so it kept you grounded and alert. Your thoughts raged war inside your head as you chastised yourself for being a manipulative bitch. You thought about what you would say to Kirishima, how you would explain to him yet again exactly why you didn’t want to be in a relationship, and what you would do to get any more romantic thoughts out of his head. Growing frustrated with trying to find the right words, you decided to start picking up the litter the kids from earlier tossed around. There was so much of it around, and honestly? you felt like you should do maybe one good deed tonight to balance out your karma.

You zigzagged through the streets, collecting the trash in your hands. You felt gross because a lot of this shit was lodged in the gutter, plastered down by the rain. One flier in particular was especially stubborn with letting you pick it up. You had to use your nails to finally get it in your clutches. You thought that you’d have to make a second shower when you were done with this. Kirishima would probably want to join you...

It came before you knew what literally hit you. Pain shot through you as you were projected back maybe twenty feet through the air. You wanted to scream, but when your back hit the ground, the wind rushed out of your lungs at the same time you heard an excruciating crack. Your ears rang as your fingers and toes twitched until they stilled, disobeying your commands to tell them to move.

Blaring music cut out, and you heard erratic voices muffled by the dull roar of an engine—the Jeep you’d seen earlier.

“Go back!” A female voice cried. It was familiar. Was that Yui Kodai? You were too...out of it to tell, and when you tried to raise your head to check, sharp pain seized up your spine. You attempted speaking, but it was like your lungs were crushed and mangled, no longer able to do their job. All you could do was listen. All you could do was feel.

“It was just a fucking cat!” A man yelled back.

“It wasn’t a cat! You just killed that girl!”

“Will you shut the fuck up!” Quieter and quieter the voices came. “It was a fucking cat, and we don’t tell anybody about this, end of story.”

But I’m alive, you thought loudly at them. Please...come back…

The screeching of those tires bolting down the street was the most devastating noise you’d ever heard in your entire life.

Karma was a dirty bitch that played with her own deck. You affronted yourself, reasoning that if only you had stayed inside with Kirishima, work things out, kiss him, make him feel better, this wouldn’t have happened. Maybe you shouldn’t have called him at all. That really should’ve been for the best. You knew what you were doing when your fingers dialed his number. And now you were paying for it.

So this was it. This was your punishment. This is how it ends. You, laying abandoned in the gutter of your street, dying. At least, you could see the night sky. You had the stars to keep you company, though focusing on them was painful when you fought dizzying sensations that kept the stars blurred and seemingly...red.

“What a shame,” came a familiar loquacious purr. Your mind told you to move your head to find the source of the voice, but again, you were stuck, hopelessly sputtering and defeated.

Then a beautiful creature came into view, though from where you were positioned, Shinsou’s face was upside-down. Still, you were glad—glad that the last thing you were going to see before you died, was something so...incredible.

The movement was like a blur; one moment Shinsou was standing above you, the next he was crouched beside you. Pearly white arms stretched out in front of you, and you felt a scorching burn, then Shinsou brought his hands back, and inspected the crimson liquid that coated his fingertips. He inhaled, closing his eyes as if the smell was enticing to him, and you were suddenly struck with unease. That was your blood.

Blinking up at him in disgust, you were frustrated that you couldn’t bark out a thousand questions like: why don’t you call for help? Why did you just touch a dead girl? Why are you looking at my blood?! But you were stuck, paralyzed, unable to stutter out a single word.

That was when you saw two elongated fangs poking out through his gums. The caged organ in your chest gave a strained thrust and Shinsou’s eyes snapped open as if in direct reaction to your heartbeat.

He sighed. “A shame that you get to taste me before I get to taste you…”

Shinsou’s eyes shifted down the street, then you felt his arms wrap around you. The sky became a blur and then it disappeared, suddenly replaced by shrouds of leaves and branches. You wanted to cry. Being touched—being moved was excruciating, but you couldn’t do a thing besides stare and blink.

“Here’s the deal,” Shinsou began, pulling up his sleeves and discarding the bracelets from around his wrist. “I’m going to give you my blood.”

Hah?! Your brows creased.

“Oh, you can understand me. Good. My blood’s got a healing agent in it that’s probably the only thing that will save your life.” Shinsou looked you in the eyes and you saw the same thing he showed you at Kirishima’s last party: pupils so black that they appeared white. “It’s a highly addictive substance, but I think since you’re already so far gone, it won’t be all too affected by it. You might experience some side effects, such as heightened visual and auditory senses, feeling euphoric or stronger than you are, and-“ he smirked- “increased libido.”

As he kept talking, you felt your mind swimming, as if you weren’t going into hysterics already. Maybe that was it. You were imagining this because you were dying and your brain was graciously giving you a scenario that was better than your reality which was actually you alone and broken on the side of the road. Despite the situation, your lips managed to twitch upwards. At least you were sticking to your character. These past couple weeks, you’d been going insane and now you were leaving the world as batsy as ever.

White wrists met pale lips and a grim noise made your stomach turn as you watched Shinsou bite himself. He hovered his injured arm over your mouth, then he hesitated.

“But wait,” he said in a sardonic tone. “What was it you were going off about the last time we met? Consent?”

If your body could have shuddered, it would have. This was exactly like when you’d try to fall asleep and remember all the embarrassing things you’d ever said and done in grade school, only now you were nearing death’s gate, and you had to endure the memory of you awkwardly sputtering your righteous jargon to a stranger. Good grief. If there was a god who had control over your mind, he was a damn sadist.

“So what say you, darlin’? Want me to save you? Blink twice if yes-“ he shrugged- “die if not.”

You glared at him. Let’s just rub salt into your wounds, why don’t we? Deciding to entertain your delusions, you blinked pointedly, twice, hating the self-assured expression on this sicko’s perfect face.

“I’m glad to see that you value your life,” he said, then raised his wrist over your mouth. You felt droplets fall against your lips. You no longer had the energy to protest—not even to grimace and tighten your mouth. Instead, the liquid lazily trinkled onto your tongue and down your throat.

The change started immediately. Your muscles tensed and tightened in a sort of soothing, weaving motion. You’d heard pops as your bones cracked back into the place which would have disgusted you if you weren’t so distracted by the wonderful sensation on your tongue. Shinsou tasted like nothing you’d ever had before—sweet nectar, rich and pleasing. Your tongue lapped at his skin until feeling returned to your hands and you grasped firmly onto his arm and began sucking harder, greedier, at once needing more and knowing you wouldn’t be able to get enough.

Shinsou began raising his arm away from you, but you chased it, following his motion by lifting your healed torso as more of your bones snapped back into place. Your entire body was frenzying with elated tingles. You felt euphoric, high, and if you were still coerced to believe you were dying, you’d have thought that you’d gone to heaven. But you knew better now. This was present and this was real. This was everything.

“I see that you’re enjoying yourself.” Shinsou pressed his hand against your jaw and dragged it back to the nape of your neck. He stilled, then tightened his hold on you, trying to ease you off of him. “That’s enough.”

But it wasn’t. You pulled, knowing full well this was going to end, but wanting desperately for it to not. Shinsou’s fingers sunk into your hair and pulled, baring his teeth—baring his fangs—at you. Once you were pried away, he sucked in a breath and hissed.

“That’s good,” he said, his thumb wiping at the corner of your mouth where renegade blood seemed to have escaped. “That’s good,” he cooed again, the melody in his voice all but worshipped you. You eyed his wrist, noting that there wasn’t a bite mark in sight. You shook as his thumb brushed against your bottom lip. “Satisfied?”

“More,” you demanded childishly without a care. It wasn’t fair. He was a bully dangling a treat right in front of you while you were starving and tied to a pole. Gathering some sense of morale, you breathed and asked, “please. More.”

“Greedy girl.” Shinsou sneered. God, even when he was making such a nasty face, he was still so...pretty. You couldn’t stand it. “There’s a time and a place for everything, and there’s not a lot that I do without asking for something in return. It all comes with a price.”

“A price?” You asked, still dazed from your elation. At this point, you’d do borderline anything for just one more taste. And honestly, with someone with the same aura as him, you certainly wouldn’t mind doing anything…

“A price,” he reiterated darkly, his lips curling into a grin. “An eye for an eye, as the saying goes…”

“Do you want...my blood?” Your heart jumped.

“I do,” he purred, and as if on reflex, you extended an arm out to him, ushering him to take whatever he wanted. Balls to thinking about what a ludicrous idea that was—you had one thing on your mind: his blood. Shinsou took your arm and brought your wrist to his mouth. You tensed, thinking he was going to bite, but he merely placed a tender kiss to the back of your wrist, sending jubilant waves of pleasure to flutter up your arm. Then, he snickered. “But I can’t take yours tonight. You’ve already lost so much, and your veins are tainted with...well, me.”

Trepidation settled deep in the pit of your stomach. You were not much closer to thinking like a normal human being, but you were hit with the realization that you just drank some guy’s blood...after being hit by a car. You stirred, raring yourself to stand up—if you even could—but Shinsou held you firmly, forcing you to look at him straight on.

A light buzzing noise rang in your ears while you swam in the pools of his magnificent eyes. Your body went numb for the second time this night, but this numb was more of a warm blanket than anything else. You felt secure, despite your situation, and that was what he wanted.

When he spoke, he was simultaneously right in front of you, and inside of you. He was a whisper of a thought, but a furore of a demand as well. He said, “you’re going to go home...send that putrid, hormonal mongrel on his way...and hide yourself under your covers. You’re going to go into a very deep sleep, and if you can help yourself, you won’t be dreaming about anything. Not even me.” His words rocked you gently like a lulling cradlesong. All you could manage to do was nod at his every request. He went on, “and the next time you feel my presence around your home, you’re going to open the door and invite me in. Do I make myself clear?”

As quickly as it came, your calmed mood disappeared as Shinsou blinked at you. Suddenly very sleepy, you tilted your head at the stranger. “Putrid, hormonal mongrel? Do you mean Kirishima?” You grinned when Shinsou’s eyes narrowed. “Were you watching us?”

A low rumble came from Shinsou’s throat that confirmed your accusation. This certainly wasn’t anyway to thank someone who might’ve just saved your life, but you couldn’t help but poke the bear. “What is it?” You ragged. “Are you jealous?”

His demeanor changed in a flash. One moment he looked ready to kill, and in the next, he was tame, wearing a cool mask to support his laxly facade. Shinsou abruptly stood up, cursorily bringing you to your feet with him, and held you so your back was pressed against his chest. You felt the need to stumble—you weren’t used to moving so fast!—but his arms locked you into place.

“You mean like how you were with Miss Kodai,” he quipped against you, his chilled breath caressing your ear. You inhaled sharply, striving to keep yourself from warbling out any embarrassing, telling sounds, but when he pulled some hair away from your neck, and his pinky finger just barely grazed your oversensitive skin, you couldn’t stop the shaky sigh that departed your lips. “Is that why you went out of your way to put yourself in such an uncomfortable situation? Because you were jealous.”

“I wasn’t,” you lied in an attempt to convince yourself that you weren’t. You had no reason to be. You didn’t know him. He was just some kid you saw at a party, and now he was...what was he? Your savior?

Your breath hitched as his hands slithered down your sides, taking their place at your hips. Your heart pounded against your chest when his fingers intentionally grazed over the bit of skin that was bare between your shorts and your shirt.

“You sure about that?” Shinsou dipped his head to lick the column of your throat. A rush of heat settled between your thighs when he flicked his tongue over your pulse point, sucking the tender skin into his mouth. You felt something sharp press against you, and you instinctively craned your neck more to the side to grant him more access, while you pushed your ass back against his hardening groin, nails digging into the arms that were caging you against him. A low groan escaped him, and for a moment, you thought he’d tear through the skin, rip out your vocal chords, and leave you for dead, when he finally pulled his head away.

“Don’t...stop.” You wanted to cringe at your plea. It wasn’t everyday that you actually had to ask for something like this to happen, forget wanting it to begin with. But as Shinsou toyed with the little hairs at the back of your neck, you felt nothing short of longing for things to escalate.

A dark chuckle sounded in your ear. Shinsou whispered, “go home and do as you're told,” before kissing your earlobe. You bit your lip, wanting for his kiss to linger, but instead, he took your chin into his hand and turned you to face him. “And please note that if you don’t, I will find out. I’ll know if your lips touch that mongrel again, too.” You half wanted to inform him that you and Kirishima did far more than ‘touch lips’ earlier, but seeing that threatening look in his eye, you decided against it. “There is a price for everything, my sweet sanguine.”

He released you, and it took everything out of you not to fall to the ground. Shinsou paced a few steps ahead of you when you reached a hand out and called, “hold up!” He stopped, turned his head, and waited. You were going to demand answers to the questions jostling in your head, but you were suddenly very shy. “Where... are you going?”

Shinsou hummed, considering the question and probably enjoying the look of desperation on your face. Finally, he said, “I quite like cats.”

You crossed your arms over your chest and waited for an explanation. When he didn’t give you one, you prompted, “cats?”

“Yeah, cats. I heard there were a couple cretins running around assaulting cats. I just want to make sure your neighborhood is safe.”

“For cats?!” You demanded, but without explaining himself further, he was gone. Like he literally disappeared. The only thing left of him was a playful message resounding in your head.

‘Do try to not get hit by a car on the way home.’

You sauntered the way back to your house, not feeling the least bit sore from the events that unfurled over the night. Having past the spot you’d been hit, you saw dark spots in the road from where you probably had been bleeding out, so you knew that it happened, but your mind was too fuzzy to really contemplate how and why you survived. All you really could think about was how good it felt to have Shinsou touch you—how you’d be counting the days until you would feel him prowling around your house again.

When you got home, you saw that the downstairs bathroom light was on, and the television was on some kind of sports channel. It looked like Kirishima wasn’t entirely invested in the zombie movie you’d put on. You quietly crept up the stairs and slid into the bathroom adjacent to your bedroom. When you saw yourself in the mirror, you gasped.

“Troll,” you hissed at your reflection. Your face was crusty with reds and browns—blood and mud?! And your hair was a mess of dirt and leaves! Your pajamas were shredded and splitter with the same essence that covered the rest of your body. You were disgusting! It didn’t stop there, either! When you took your shirt off, the bruises that littered your skin on your ribs and meat your stomach were countless. You really put the zombies in that old movie to shame.

While you showered, you agonized over the thought of Shinsou seeing you in such an awful state. The water ran down to your drain in a river of rust-colored muck and you wanted to be swallowed down with it.

When you were out of the shower, the only evidence left from the night’s events were the purpling contusions on your torso which you tucked away with your towel. You were sure that the bruising would be worse tomorrow, but you pushed the thought out of your mind and tried to focus on the great night’s sleep you were supposed to be getting.

However, when you opened the door to run to your room, you were greeted with a sheepish looking Kirishima, his hand on the back of his neck. When he saw you standing there in nothing but a towel, his eyes widened and he quickly looked away. “Oh shit, I’m sorry!”

“What were you expecting?” You asked, grinning at the blooming flush of red at the tips of his ears. For god’s sake, he fucked you earlier.

“I...don’t know. Shit, shit. Uh-“

“It’s okay, Kiri.” You leaned against your doorframe and watched his adam’s apple bob. Chewing on your lip, you could already hear Shinsou’s demands swimming around your head.

Send that putrid, hormonal mongrel on his way…

“I just wanted to really apologize to you about earlier...” As Kirishima went on, your attention shot to the bead of sweat appearing on his temple. Heat radiated off his body which made you yearn to be closer to him. God, he was such a good guy. You couldn’t just kick him out in the middle of the night. You didn’t want to. You wanted to be closer to him, which should make you feel bad, but you didn’t feel anything but ravenous.

“Kiri,” you murmured and dropped your towel. Kirishima froze, and with the willpower of a thousand suns, managed to keep his eyes away from you.

“Um. Yeah?” He gulped.

“Ei,” you strummed, lifting your hand out to cup his jaw. You turned his face towards you, watched his eyes trail down your naked body, and kissed his lips, pushing him back and into your room.

When you were done with him, you hid on the covers, and fell into a very, very deep sleep, where you didn’t dream about anything. Not even Shinsou.

376 notes · View notes

imagines-mha · 4 years

Text

class 1-B and night routines

Monoma: if monoma doesn’t annoy at least 2 people per night he simply will not sleep. Wears the comfiest pyjamas- like a 100% cotton top and plaid pj bottoms and everyones so fuckin jealous. He tells everyone he has a 16 step self-care routine he does every night but he really just brushes his teeth and then sits on his phone for like 2 hours? Ike what do you GET out of lying???

Tetsutetsu: he thinks going to bed after 11pm is criminal. Literally doesn’t understand the cryptidcrew™️ who DONT MF SLEEP. Works out before bed which is 👌🏻👌🏻 OOF. Aw hes the type of friend to make everyone tea and toast and send them asmr videos if they cant sleep i love him. He usually spends his night dancing around with pony and working off all his ENERGY

Kendo: “yall im turning into bed i’m too tired for this shit” “kendo it’s 7pm”

My girl will retire to her room as early as she can (usually with the rest of the girls) and she just RELAXES. Like self-care to the max: paints her nails, watches tv, plans her tomorrow, showers. She’s usually asleep at 10pm and wakes up the next morning full energy I want what she has

Awase: he has the WORST sleep schedule like fr. Literally sits up on tiktok until 3am and he’s just like “oh shit i’m up at 7…” *continues scrolling* like bro GET UR ASS TO BED U HAVE TRAINING AT 6AM. His night routine ain’t anything special- he sleeps in sweats and always keeps his window open (although someone told him about banshees once and now hes lowkey terrified lmao)

Kaibara- the type to fall asleep on the sofa and wake up at 4 in the morning to find tsuburaba in the kitchen eating a full course meal and he just SIGHS and goes up to bed in the worst mood bc why tf are his friends so WEIRD. Likes to watch the stars and edit pictures before he sleeps- its so therapeutic to him and also productive so he’s winning

Rin- he drinks coffee every night after midnight and then goes “oh my fuck shit i just drank coffee why am i like this” like congrats u fuckin dumbass now u ain’t gonna sleep. And he never fuckin learns. Always does his hw at like 11pm, Also stays up way too late binge-watching star wars smh

Tsuburaba: he gets up every night and treats himself to a three-course meal in the kitchen no cap no sound awareness my man will be blending shit full blast at 2 in the morning. Usually falls asleep sitting at the kitchen table and he 👏🏻 needs 👏🏻 a 👏🏻 chiropractor 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻. Also always forgets to do his homework until everyone’s packing up to go to bed and hes like “please,, anyone,, the math?”. Shoda wants to punch him so bad

Ibara: the most well-structured person in the entire building. At 7pm she has her shower, at 8:30pm she goes to pray, at 9:30pm she journals and draws to calm her mind, and at 10pm she meditates until she falls asleep- which is usually 10:20pm.. Everyone wants her self control and independance like damn how does she FUNCTION. Also queen of vegan self-care remedies

Pony: girl is chaotic as fuck it’ll be like 10pm and rin’s like “yo pony can i copy the hw??” And shes like “WHAT HOMEWORK.” . *cue two idiots freaking tf out*. She’s always wearing matching pj sets and fluffy socks and loves sliding around in them like a dork. Dances every night before bed to tire herself out like shes just in the lounge deadass vibing to taylor swift and a new person joins her everytime . people would be dead without her

Kodai: movies every night or she won’t go to class the next morning. Shes always just sitting on her phone w earphones in like she has absoloutely no time to deal with monoma’s shit so she just peaces tf out of existence. Cutest pyjamas ever i love her pyjama queen. The go-to girl for homework she just leaves her bag open, as long as u return it shes cool

Tokage: oh my god shes so CRYPTIC and FOR WHAT. Pranks pranks pranks pranks pranks. everyone hates her for it and she loves it so bad. Like she has the balls to prank kamakiri and that TAKES BALLS LET ME JUST SAY . she’ll just leave her body parts in people’s beds and its SO annoying. They usually just pick up her stray arm and fling it at the wall in revenge then act confused the next morning when she complains abt the bruises

Komori: cryptic as fuck. Does she sleep? Why is she always sitting at the table? What is she doing? . Closes her tabs whenever someone comes into the dining room and just stares at them til they leave again like :)). In the garden every night til she can’t bear the coldness- watches the stars and makes flower crowns and worships the moon i love her

Kuroiro: nighttime is the time he just evaporates like where tf is he like 🙄🙄 reel it in randy from monsters inc . Hiding in the walls and listening to everyones conversations and secrets is his only skill in life . Everyone thinks he doesn’t sleep and just wanders around (he does, he just likes to have an edgy reputation)

Kamakiri- did you hear that?? oh its just kamakiri fistfighting monoma in the hallway again. Fr takes no prisoners he needs his beauty sleep (or idk do bugs sleep lmao??). If you’re in his way while he’s RAMPAGING to his room youre dead bro when i say he takes bedtime routines seriously i MEAN it. He does self-care and tells NOONE but its lowkey cute idk lmao why do i have a crush on a bug lemme call my therapist real quick

Bondo- 9pm. Wind down time. A good book is all my mans needs and he’ll be out for the count in absolutely no time at all. Fukidashi will die jealous and bondo fucking loves it. Milks tf out of it too he’s like YAWN I AM SO TIRED OFF TO BED NOW TO SLEEP PEACEFULLY GOODNIGHT and everyone who WISHES they could sleep as early as that wants him to choke

Manga- king of never having hw done until 1am at the earliest 🤡. He lives on 1 hour sleep most nights and his speech bubble just says “no <3” until like 11am. Its cus of his crippling hyperactivity he’s running the halls at 3am practicing the entire mamma mia choreography ffs fukidashi U HAVE A CAREER AHEAD OF U

Reiko: energy drink addiction 101 if she doesn’t drink monster every night before bed she’s convinced she’ll die. “I sleep all day and party all night” she says, crying over math hw at 2am. Plays music too loud and has LED strobelites on ALL NIGHT. Shes deadass doing witchcraft in the lounge w komori all night during finals week she doesnt give a single fuck x

Shishida: another reader,, mans will finish an entire book in a night by the force of sheer willpower alone. Takes a bath every night and it makes his fur so fluffy and smell like apples smdnwjdnwd. Perfect snuggle buddy for wintertimes (pony LOVES HIM) and he’s that good man who carries tsuburaba to bed when he falls asleep at the kitchen table

Shoda: “please don’t speak to me while im doing my homework im 👌🏻 this close to having a mental breakdown and all it takes is a single poke to reel me over the edge.” Complains all day about being tired then goes to bed at 2am?? Like no shit ofc ur tired bitch . Always up for a deep talk at night he knows EVERYTHING abt EVERYONE and hes so trustworthy hed never tell a soul

Honenuki: he meal preps and does yoga before bed 🤢 like WHO HAS THAT MOTIVATION. Irons and sets his uniform out for the next day before getting his homework FINISHED by 9pm . He’s pretty flexible w what he does at nights it 100% depends on his mood. Usually he’s helping Tokage with pranks or working out w tetsutetsu tho. Used to annoy people who were up doing hw after 11 like “really tsuburaba? You should be ashamed”. Shoda almost DECKED him once for it tho and he was #traumatised and never did it again

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hueningshaped · 4 years

Text

★ in the rain | j.ww

▰ genre: angst + fluff in the end (happy ending)

▰ word count: 1902

▰ synopsis: you find wonwoo in the rain after not seeing him for a while, hoping to finally tell him that you got engaged, but he painstakingly tells you that he's in love with you + female! reader i think + pam and jim! dynamic

▰ notes: im not super happy with the ending at all but uhhhh here u go. if anyone wants me to drop the angst / no happy ending lmk hehe + ALSO!! you are very much more than welcome to drop requests and asks in my ask thing :3

There he stood in the rain. After you had ran up to him, he remained in his position, in his posture, in his steps. When he looked at you, there was something behind his eyes. The night consumed the usual soft color of his expression. Now, he was just painted in lead and you almost wanted to cough on it, as if there was smoke billowing up your respiratory system.

"Wonwoo?" You called out, your smile dropping and that of your grip on the umbrella but you remembered what was important.

His face still hadn't changed. You wished that he would've at least worn his dark gray rain coat so that at least would've made his image more comical and that it could provide comedic relief. His eyebrows weren't even as dropped as they typically were; there was something about the fine lines of muscle on his face that were taut and tense, like they were holding something back.

"What's-what's wrong?" The rain continued falling, not even in a characteristic way that it had upon the moods of the showers. "What did I do? What did I do? You-you just stopped answering my texts, m-m-my-my calls. I just wanted to say hello and see if you were —"

"Why didn't you tell me you had set your wedding day, Y/N?"

Then, the muscles stretched a little bit, revealing the most raw source of heartbreak you had never thought could exist. Those strokes of black that comprised his eyebrows furrowed together in a worry, painstakingly quivering just a few degrees, and worst of all, his eyes began to mirror the dynamic of the night.

He bit back a hiccupy sob while trying to smile. A wave of heat blanketed you from head to toe in a frenzy, the warmth barely missing your eyes to gather tears.

"I-I..." why did his heart break? Why was he so upset? Was it because you simply hadn't told him? You had just announced it, barely coming to the decision just a day before. Your best friend, Wonwoo, was breaking at the seams, but for what?

"What happened?" You reached out, now gripping his wrist that remained at his rib. He just felt like ice, heavy and growing colder in terms of proximity.

Wonwoo laughed halfheartedly, sniffling, as you desperately looked up at him, searching, searching, searching his eyes for something. He hesitantly drew his other hand to cup your face, so lightly you would've mistaken the touch for your hair.

"You seriously don't know?" He pressed his thumb into the apple of your cheek, rubbing one of your free streaking tears into your supple flesh.

You shook your head vigorously. Could you have possibly set your wedding date on a day that was completely inconvenient for him? Could you have overlooked one of your friendship anniversaries? Surely, he couldn't have been this upset simply because he wasn't the first to be told. You've known him for years and that was unlikely.

He just kept smiling as the rain seemed to seep through in between the mesh of both of your umbrellas, and if you moved your chin just a a few inches, it looked as if Wonwoo's face was raining, too: breaking away with the storm. You just wanted it to stop. This had to end. But why had it started? He just started ignoring you out of the blue, the most uncharacteristic moves he's ever pulled. This wasn't him. What was it? (But you knew...)

"God, Y/N," he tipped his head back, trying to steady what seemed like shallow breaths, but in reality, he just didn't want to look at the gleaming metal that was now wrapped around your lovely, nimble finger.

"Wonwoo!" You cried out, a crash of thunder resonating just a few miles off. He looked back down. The rain filled in the silence between you two but it proved to be as brief as much as you hadn't wanted it to be.

He smiled through the pain.

"You're such an idiot, God," he muttered and for a second, you thought that things would be back to normal. "I..."

"Yes-yes? What?" Your face ached from worry, the evaporation flitting all around you like something out of anime. "Tell me please, so I can just make things better. I'll let you read to me that sappy book I hate! I-I-I'll do any —"

"I'm in love with you, Y/N," his eyes sparkled in the darkest way possible and whatever you had possibly opened your mouth to say no longer had meaning. You blinked. All you could do was blink dumbly. "I-I don't-I'm just-I...I'm sorry. I know that I should've told you sooner. I just needed you to hear it. It's bad timing, I know. I know."

Your mouth simply went agape as a rush of a thousand emotions infiltrated you.

"What? Why?" You muttered out of instinct because of the confusion. He laughed again, a bitter one this time, and blinked a few tears from his sparkling eyes.

Of course, realizing everything, realizing the grand scheme of all that had occurred since you had even graduated with Wonwoo, ever since you had even first met him, it all hit you with a pang of something.

Sure, you had been engaged to Yeongsu, your sweetheart from undergraduate school, who didn't always treat you sweet, but you and him just had a foundation. He and you had been together for many years, despite his inability to understand you sometimes and so what that he didn't pursue you; you thought love was like that. Wasn't it supposed to be?

Before you knew, your vision grew blurry and warmth streamed down your cheeks in thin ribbons. Wonwoo's face pained at the sight as soon as you blinked through.

"I don't know what to do or say, W-Wonwoo. What do you expect me to say?" You choked. The street had quieted down so now you had no choice but to hear yourself and him, breaking down.

His lips pursed, tightening slowly into a frown.

"I know, I know. It's selfish of me, but I just wanted you to know, okay? Okay?" His voice broke with the final word and as did the gate that had been keeping his own years at bay. You nodded grimly in return because a part of you seemed to crumble with his composure.

"What, is this your goodbye or something?" You coughed between your intakes of breath. He looked up into the ceiling of his umbrella before meeting your eyes once again.

"I'm...going back to Changwon...on the fourteenth of June. I don't know how long I'm staying either." He breathed. Your wedding would be set on the exact same day, only you would be on the opposite side of the country.

The rain came back and as did your misery.

He loved you. He loves you. He loved you. He loves you.

Your one and only confidant, your best friend, your comforter, your protecter, your shoulder to cry on, your reason to laugh and smile, your dork, Wonwoo. He was going to leave. Worse, you were going to leave him just the same. Was this goodbye to your friendship?

"Well, I..." you managed out of a broken cry. "I can't ask you to stay because that's selfish of me but we're-we're past that now," Wonwoo sniffled and leaned closer to you, which he typically did to listen to whatever you had to say, considering his great height. "And I know our friendship is more important than anything."

"Please don't do that. I don't want that. I want to be more than that." He pleaded in that constantly calm voice of his.

"Wonwoo," you mirrored his own desperation, reaching to tug his sleeve tightly into your fists. He used his other hand to rub the loose tears into your cheeks, moving over your nose as his bottom lip trembled. "Wonwoo..."

And he paused his motions, meeting your eyes again. Everything suddenly terrified you because you had no clue what would be the last thing you two would do in this moment. God knew even if you would see each other again. Your futures were locked, weren't they? You felt powerless but you had the key. Nonetheless, the guilt had you beginning to tremble.

Your guesses about what would fill in this now empty gap between the two of you was fulfilled when Wonwoo just dove in. His lips collided with yours and you just buckled into yourself, his arms embracing you in the right moment to catch you. It was like getting a power up from a game. The warmth that you felt was unrelenting. It was everything... you had dreamt of. The kiss continued, shifted, proceeded, evolved, but eventually, it came to a halt as you felt a few stray tear drops hit your skin that weren't yours.

When you pulled away, Wonwoo smiled painfully, hesitantly meeting your eyes. You still were in shock.

He held your hand now loosely. Wonwoo was ready to let go, his fingers inching away by degrees, and you could feel your heart dropping by the second. He was ready to let go of you and of it all, but you weren't...

"I-I love you, too," you cried, wanting to unravel into sobs as his eyes widened in that adorable way that they always did when in shock. He tightened his grasp around you. "Wonwon, I'm the one who's been selfish. I'm the one who's done you wrong. I'm the one who is in the wrong, I'm the one..."

He moved in again, his lips just above yours for another kiss, which scared you, but instead, he took gentle swipes across your face. You had missed out on all this just because of your own stupidity.

"It's okay, it's okay. Don't say that," he muttered, his voice above the pitter patter of the rain shower. "Don't..."

He left his sentence unfinished, now resting his forehead against yours with his hands brushing your stray tears away.

"I love you, Wonwoo," you pleaded. "But, what can I do?"

The answer was obvious to you, but you offered an alternative.

"Can...can we run away together?" You muttered. Wonwoo cupped your cheek, snorting but still mustering a sweet, sad smile.

"I wouldn't want to do that to you, Y/N. I-I should've just kept this to myself. You're supposed to get married and finally have that dream wedding and that level of domestic bliss that you've wanted. I can't take it away."

You lifted yourself on the balls of your feet to rub your forehead against his, pulling him down with you to make it work.

"But, Wonwoo, you can give that all to me," he pulled away gently to look down at you. "I want to be with you forever."

"Forever?" His voice tripped in pitch.

"Forever." With that, you grinned again before he wanted to pull in for another kiss.

If yours and his future only took a few steps, why not take them? Why stay quiet and unhappy? You shouldn't settle. You should've never settled.

"Wait," he pulled back from your reddening lips. "Can I take you out on a date first?"

"Of course," you smiled against his. "Tomorrow." You chuckled, lightly punching him, but nodding nonetheless.

"Tomorrow, for sure."

#wonwoo angst #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo fluff #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #jeon wonwoo

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baggochipps · 4 years

Text

‘Everything’s still the same, nothing changes. Except now, I get to hold you and kiss you, and show you much I love you.”

AN: Hello Readersss and @stellarboystyles, this is my first piece that I’ve ever posted of mine and for that I’d like to thank @stellarboystyles for creating a great way for newbies like me to get our writing out there and gain recognition(experienced writings as well🥰). I am entering this challenge with a friends to lovers piece so yeah I had fun with this. Now without further ado I present to you beautiful people:

‘Our moment’

Ever since you and Harry have been sat in front of one another at the age of 5, you guys have been inseparable. You guys went through what friends go through of course; the arguments and the infamous drift between friends due to the want to fit in and society’s placements, however as soon as y’all got over that and realized that society’s standards shouldn’t be the blueprint to life, you both began strengthening the bond between the two of you in high school despite the fact that Harry, to everyone, was the charming jock and you were only merely thought.

You both still continued to go on though ignoring the wandering eyes and the gasps of air from stuck up popular kids when they saw you both crackling in the hall at the jokes you’ve both shot at each other and the times when you both were caught skipping school together. So by the time you and Harry were at the end of senior year and prom was just a few hours away, Harry planned to go to prom just to hang with those he more than likely won’t ever speak too again and then you would both find yourselves at the end of that night in his car, but as all plans go, it didn’t fail, but it definitely wasn’t what you expected. Yes, you guys left. Yes, you’ve got to hangout, but he leaned in and you kissed him only to laugh it off and never speak of it or bring it up ever again because you’ve already told yourself it was the alcohol you’ve both consumed prior to getting in the car with him, but Harry couldn’t help, but remember your soft pinkish lips against his as he lays down only to get lost in the sight of his ceiling on restless nights. You didn’t know that though because when you asked him he said he didn’t remember that night at all, you laughing it off after that.

Even after that event, you were both officially back to together, as friends. Harry was there for you through the booboos, the mood swings, and family troubles as you were for him, but as things began to get back to the way things were, You were there for the endless amount of girls that he talked to you about even after you’ve expressed that you didn’t wish to hear about his sexapades that left envy in your heart, you were there for his darkest moments and he was there for yours especially when you called him over late at night to hold you because you’ve gave all of yourself away to someone who didn’t deserve any of you.

You guys carried each other through the end of high school to sophomore year of college avoiding another recap of high school prom again and to say it was easy would not be the truth. Along the way there were many college parties or days alone that got cut short due to one look, one bite of the lip and or one lengthy staring contest that would’ve resulted in jeopardizing a great friendship. Conversations of what could be if you and him decided to take that leap surfaced. All in all you’ve both managed to not take it to that point despite the fact that you and Harry shared a room and a very strong bond.

“Har, I don’t think I wanna go to that party tonight.” You sigh as you reminisce about what your mom talked to you about a few days ago, the word ‘separation’ drowning your thoughts. You wanted your parents to be happy, but to think that you had it all wrong, they weren’t always as happy as you thought, makes you question everything.

Harry stopped his search for an shirt just to knell beside your bed and rub your back. You lean into his touch and continue to look at the wall in front of you.

“Who would I get drunk and make Trevor uncomfortable with,” He says as a smile begins forming upon his lips. “ You know, I can’t do that with anyone else. You remember that Annalisa bit ?”

The “Annalisa bit” occurred when You were sick, which doesn’t happen often, and making it to class and college parties wasn’t really an option so Harry went to seek an understudy and Annalisa was his pick. “I found her in the tub of the bathroom asleep after one winecooler” He told you once he got back before plopping right beside you and letting it be known that if you can’t make it too a party he won’t go either because it just wasn’t the same without you.

You didn’t respond yet as you were looking for the strength to just get up “ Or we can always watch a gameplay or a movie or whatever until we feel better, yeah ?” Harry says patiently waiting for your answer. You turn to meet Harry’s emerald green eyes,furrowed brows and small smile in the dimly lit room. Harry searched your eyes as you searched his until you part your lips to speak with a worn expression on your face with a warming smile upon your lips.

“Can we just stay ?” You ask cautiously to which he nods. It takes only a second for Harry to get up and search for a few snacks to pair with some drinks he saved for occasions like these. He never believed in watching a movie without snacks and neither did you. With the snacks in his hand, he goes to sit them on the floor for easy access to then catch with your head bowed as you play with your fingers.

“What’s on your mind, bug ?” He asks, going over to knell beside you again.

“Nothing. Just glad you’re by my side.” Your eyebrows furrow and your eyes get watery. Harry’s faces drops as he notices yours contorting. You clear your throat to speak again until you’re interrupted by his soft voice.

“Come ‘ere.” He gets up and pulls you into an embrace and as though your face against his chest was a trigger you find yourself sobbing.

You couldn’t think about anything except for that day, you felt like you couldn’t even function that day. Harry walked in on you just sitting on the edge of your bed with confusion clouding your mind. The last time you’ve talked to your parents they seemed fine, happier.

Harry rubs your back gently holding you tight enough that you could hear his heart beat and every breathe he takes. It’s almost soothing only you can’t stop thinking about your parents. Harry knew that and it was breaking his heart. He placed a kiss to your forehead as his eyes began to water, that familiar feeling coming about as he remembers the first time he heard his parents were separating.

“I don’t know how I didn’t figure it out,” You choke out and remove your head from under Harry’s chin to look up at him. “I wish I was enough to keep them together.”

“Hey, hey,” Harry says. He takes your face in his hands .”You will always be their girl.”

“But why ?,” you say in a despondent tone. “Why would they just end it ?” His heart sinks again for the hundredth time.” I knew their relationship wasn’t perfect, but why ?”

He hated this so much. He hated to see you look so defeated because you were always so strong despite what you went through, but as though this situation drained all the energy you had, your eyes are low and puffy, and your posture is no longer accentuating confident anymore. He lets the tears that he’s tried to repress fall.

“Maybe they just don’t feel the same way they did around each other anymore ,” Harry speaks honestly, “ When you’re around someone that you love, their smile brightens your day, their laugh is contagious, but even when their not so bubbly or warm you want to experience that with them and the only thing you want to change about the experience is how they felt. I’m sure they had similar feelings towards one another, but feelings fade.” You could only nod as more tears fall and your heart sinks. You knew what he was saying was right, things change and as much you didn’t want things change, things will always change with or without you.

You pull Harry into a tight hug and he can’t help, but hug you just as tight. “Thank you, Harry.”

“Im here, bug.” Harry says. It take a few moments for you both to let go and get ready for the movie. Coraline is always the go-to movie you’d watch when you’d be going through something or nothing, it is definitely your favorite and Harry didn’t mind watching it because of that same reason.

As the movie played, the energy in the room began to settle, you stealing a few glances at Harry while he steals some at you. Neither of you can stop what Harry said just a few moments ago about your parents from flooding his and your mind. As those words flew from his mouth he felt so much emotion behind it as he looked in your eyes and he just knew you felt it too which you did, however anxiety consumed you. You wished to experience him as yours just as much as he did, but your worst fear is losing your best friend so never experiencing Harry in a different light is something you’ve come to terms with. Pulling you out of your thoughts, Harry leans towards you to get your attention.

“Shh you’re making me miss my favorite part.” You lightly push his face away as a light laugh erupts from your mouth.

“The part you’ve seen a million times,” Harry says taking your hand in his, a pout forming upon his lips,” I just want to lay in your lap.”

This was what watching a movie with H is for you and in all honesty it only made you love him more because that’s how he is, always distracting you despite the fact that all you wanted to do was watch the movie. You sigh and clear your lap of your phone for him to lay down.

“Are you happy now ?” You ask as you look down at a very content Harry Styles with his prominent dimples. He nods and focuses on the movie once again.

When the movie finally reaches the end your eyes feel as heavy as Harry’s. Harry raises his head from your lap to look at you.” Feeling any better, bug ?” He asks to which you nod and take in his reassuring smile.

“I’m okay, H, you could head to bed. I might just watch this again.”

“Well I can always stay up with you.”

“No. I just want to say thank. You have been there through everything and I’m sorry if this brought up anything from when your parents were going through it. I just think if I figured this out before they told me I might’ve been able to accept this better,” you shake off the haunting thought before continuing ,” either way, thank you.”

” I will always be there no matter what. You will never have to endure anything alone, y/n y/l/n.” He kisses the top of your head and positions you in between his legs. He pulls you to his chest and lets you lean against him while you shut your eyes.

“When we were young you were such a fashionista, man, with your rainbow shorts and off brand snea-“, you rise up from his chest and turn around swiftly to meet his eyes in amazement. “ You know how much those sneakers meant to me, Styles. Don’t get beat up.”

“Oh ? so you think you could beat me up ?” He returns your expression, straightening his posture. You give him challenging look.

“Oh for fu- we were only playing !” He exclaims. “ And you hit me hard-“ you add.

“And a punch to the gut was your way of solving it, I know.” He laughs aloud at the memory for a moment while you break into a smile. Silence surrounds you both as you and Harry keep your eyes on each other, the smiles fading.

Harry always loved you and the day he pressed his lips against yours only for you to lean into it, you’ve confirmed that you’ve felt the same way. Your tongues brushed each other with such ease and passion, but as soon as you both let go you became hesitant about every move you’ve made because you didn’t know if he really meant to kiss you. I mean he didn’t mean to kiss a lot of girls so you didn’t feel the need to even jeopardize a great friendship for one kiss while he was under the influence.

You break the silence first once a wave of realization washes over you. “ We should get to bed, H.” And with those words you’re getting up with his hand wrapped around your wrist.

“We should talk about this.” Harry gives you a suggesting look. “About what, Harry ?.” You ask as you silently hope it isn’t about you and him.

“About the night we kissed. I mean I kissed you, but you leaned in, love.” The words that leave his mouth makes your lips tingle as they wish to indulge in his taste again.

“And ever since that night, that memory is engraved in my mind and it won’t let up. I can’t sleep because of you so how do you sleep at night ?” You shrug before speaking.

“ I thought I was just another girl, Harry, that you were just doing what you usually do.” You watch him shake his head and disbelief take over his expression. He lets his hand drop from your wrist. “ You told me you didn’t remember so maybe I am just another girl.”

“You’re not.”

“ But you know where I stand on this topic, Harry, so why do you insist on having this conversation ?” You fold your arms as you become slightly frustrated. “When I said all that stuff about your parents and how they must’ve felt towards one another I thought about how I feel abo-“

“Don’t finish that sentence. I just don’t want to talk about this right now.” Before you get the chance walk away Harry’s hand is attached to your wrist again. “ But I do, y/n. I do because I like you a lot and I hate that you won’t even consider being with me despite your list of what-ifs.” Harry says as you pout. You weren’t looking to talk about this, but you didn’t want push this away anymore. If you were going to nip this in the bud you wanted to give him a chance to talk. “If I have this conversation with you and I say no to being with you, do not pester me again okay ?”

“I can’t promise that,”Harry says causing a groan to erupt from your mouth, “Just talk to me.” You take a breathe before obliging.

“I like you too, but my list of what-ifs are very important to me.”

“So enlighten me.”

“Well what-if we don’t work out ?-“

“We will,” Harry replies all to quickly, no doubt detected in his voice,” but if we don’t please hold off on telling me ‘I told you so’.”

“Welp that wasn’t reassuring at all, Styles.” You say as you chuckle. You watch him get up from his seated position and smile down at you.” That’s because I’m not from the future, but when you bunk with Styles,” Harry leans in to place a kiss on your cheek,” I’ll guarantee it will be for awhile.” Your smile brightens and his follows.

“I’m making you smile is that a good sign ?” Harry asks, using his thumb to trace your lips. “I’m scared.” You say lowly to which Harry mouths an ‘I know’. Harry wasn’t oblivious to the fact that you were uncertain about this shift in direction of his and your relationship, however he wasn’t going to let up because he knew why you didn’t want to partake in a relationship with him.

“I’m scared that we won’t get married or have kids-“

“So you started planning beforehand ?-“

“Shut up,” Harry continues as he smirks,” or even just enjoy a few years before those things happen, but I can’t say that I wouldn’t risk it, bug. I want to hold you and not just on days where you feel alone or sad, but days I just want to hold you. I want to kiss your lips and every inch of that pretty little face of yours and tell you everyday how much you mean to me.”

“And on days you don’t want too do that ?” You ask as you began to feel overwhelmed with emotion. Your eyes get watery again and your heart beat quickens. Harry wipes the tears before they fall.

“I’ll do it anyway and if I don’t or I do something wrong I want you to tell me. I want you to tell me if I’m being a jerk or an ass or if I just pissed you off. I take criticism very well.” You stifle a laugh.

“No, you don’t.” You say and Harry gives you an amusing look. “ I do so ,y/l/n.” Harry replies to which you shake your head. You remember a time where this art teacher you both had assigned a project which instructed you, Harry and your peers too draw a portrait of a person among the class. Harry picked me as said person to draw, however the person on the paper looked nothing like me and our teacher was sure to point that out. Harry just let that go after so many years. You blink just a few times before Harry moves on with a ‘fine’ and goes on about the task at hand.

“ A penny for more of your thoughts ?” Harry asks. “ What if we don’t work out and stop being friends ?” Your breathe is shaky as this question comes out of your mouth. You are scared of losing him in anyway shape or form and Harry senses that, his playfulness gone as he allows you to set the tone. He drags you over to your bed and sits down beside you as his thumb caresses the back of your hand. “ Then we don’t,” you interrupt him with a sigh dripping in disappointment,”But look I just want to enjoy you while you enjoy me. I want to sit and watch movies with you all day, go on cute dates maybe even pick out a few outfits for you to wear on them. I want you to love yourself while I love myself while we work on loving each other. No expectations, no talks of the future. I want you here with me right now.” He places your hand against his lips. “Okay ?” Harry asks, but you pause taking in everything before you respond.

You’ve always wanted to say yes and just live in the moment, but you knew you couldn’t because that just wasn’t you, however that was Harry. He balanced you out and made you feel comfortable, stop you from overthinking and has made everything that has mentally held you back no longer do that anymore. It is going to take time to adjust, but you nod your head slowly, confirming that you understand. You don’t want to give up this opportunity and you aren’t going too. As your nodding that shit eating grin takes over his once neutral expression. You return the smile with a small one, one of slight caution, but excitement of how this will go.

“So ask me.” You say to which Harry improves his posture and takes a deep breathe.” Will you, y/n y/l/n, be my girlfriend ?” Harry stares at you in such awe. “Yes, Harry Styles, I do.” You say and in one swift move Harry is picking you up and expelling words of joy all at the same time. You squeal in his arms and wrap yours around him. The moment is over once he puts you down to take in your face, feeling of adoration overcoming both of you, but the look on your face fails to hide your uncertainty.

“I don’t like change, Harold.”

“Everything’s still the same, nothing changes. Except now, I get to hold you, and kiss you, and show you much I love you.” You pull Harry into an embrace and silently hope for the best.

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