PART ONE, PART TWO (COMING SOON)

Crash Course in Love • 3

pairing: snowboard instructor!Jungkook x ex-gf!reader (feat. platonic OT6) genre: rom-com, Exes 2 Lovers, slow-burn, angst rating: 18+, MDNI warnings: strong language, slow burn, angst, tension, bad communication skills, heartbreak, hangover, doubts, emotional rollercoaster, fight against nature, being stranded, crying, verbal fighting and screaming, explicit sexual content, bit of dry humping, fingering, scissoring, unprotected sex, breast play, hickeys, scratch marks, love bites, lmk if I forgot smth word count: 15.3k

a/n: i'm absolutely knackered now, completely worn out. BUT it was sooooo worth it lol hope y'all enjoy it to the fullest bc next update probably won't be until the new year...sooooo...have funnnn!

a/n 2: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! 💕

01 • 02 • masterlist • 04

Day 4

“Fuck.”

You think you’ve woken up in hell—it must be—because, oh god, you feel like death. Your eyes are crusted shut, and you can’t feel your legs. But as you rub the sleep out of your eyes and prop yourself up on your elbows, you realise it’s just Namjoon lying across them, snoring away.

You try to take in the room, piecing together the hazy puzzle of last night. The party, the song, you running off only to drown yourself with Yoongi and Namjoon in alcohol, throwing your own little after-party. You remember crying, remember singing your heart out to sad love songs blaring through Dionysus. What a fucking mess you’ve become…

But after all that chaos, there’s only blackness. And seeing Yoongi and Namjoon still here with you in the suite, all of you fully dressed and reeking of alcohol, tells you enough. And as you groan, not just from the bottomless pit of stupidity, but from the pounding in your head, you let yourself collapse back onto your pillow.

You fight back another wave of tears, wishing the last 24 hours could just be erased, wishing you were back at home. You fumble blindly for your phone, finding it on the nightstand nearby.

2:56 p.m.

Just brilliant. Though, at least you’re spared from spending the whole day on the slopes. Not that you’d be able to walk straight with how you’re feeling, but a win’s a win.

You need to get up, though, so you start stirring both men awake. Yoongi’s not blocking you, but if you’re up, he has to be as well. Much to your surprise, both of them wake without protest, getting themselves into a sitting position on the bed, looking like zombies straight out of The Walking Dead. You reckon you look about the same.

“Sorry,” Namjoon mumbles as you begin massaging some blood back into your legs, which feel like they’re fighting for dear life.

“S’alright,” you croak out, unable to manage much more.

“Painkillers.” Yoongi just sits there, staring at his blanket, the rise and fall of his chest the only proof he’s still alive, though barely.

You and Namjoon both nod, but no one actually moves until, eventually, Namjoon rises—slowly, hands leaving the mattress only at the last second before he somehow straightens up and makes his way to the door, though it’s anything but a straight line.

You’re the second to get up, staggering into the bathroom to wash off everything clinging to you. You’re not sure if it’s just dried sweat or a bit of alcohol still on your skin, though you have a vague memory of Tae pouring something over your back. Either way, you’re in desperate need of a full shower to feel human again.

The only upside to this hangover is that your mind has finally shut up. Every bit of energy is focused on basic bodily functions, like breathing without throwing up and blinking your bloodshot eyes now and then. You’re not even fazed when Yoongi stumbles in, taking a piss that seems to go on forever; he clearly couldn’t give a fuck, and neither can you.

When you’ve finished rinsing your hair and are wrapped in a towel that’s too soft to absorb any actual moisture, you quietly switch places with Yoongi, both of you unintentionally making a point not to make eye contact.

You’re not entirely sure why you’re still here—not just in this town but on this entire trip. There’s no real drive left in you to give Jungkook closure, no fight in you at all, and definitely no desire to ever see him again.

So, you decide to get the hell out of here. Not right this second, no, your blood alcohol is likely still sky-high and will take a nosedive soon, taking you down with it, but tomorrow, you’re leaving. It’s the healthiest thing you could do, because frankly, you lost Jungkook years ago, and that realisation sobers you up more than anything else could. 

It doesn’t stir the same emotions it once did as you pull Jungkook’s old hoodie out of your luggage—or maybe you’re just too tired to care—as you tug the oversized black fabric over your head, the only comfortable thing you’d brought on this trip. Some leggings on, with your phone stuffed into the front pocket of the hoodie, you make your way to the main area, letting your eyes roam to maybe spot your missing phone case.

Jungkook’s already lounging in a single armchair, poking absently at the fire with an iron stick, his gaze tracking you as you move around the room. But you ignore him. It’s not like you’re being petty this time, and he can probably tell from your posture that you’re just not in the mood to interact at all.

You’re especially glad he doesn’t mention your—or rather, his—hoodie, and when you give up the search, realising the case isn’t lying around here either, you shuffle over to the sofa, collapsing onto it and immediately pulling out your phone. Scrolling through YouTube, you pull the hoodie’s hood down a bit further to block out Jungkook entirely, settling on a spa video promising a very satisfying blackhead extraction.

If your life’s this miserable, you’re at least going to give yourself this kind of satisfaction, even if it’s short-lived. And anyway, there are millions of similar videos waiting for you and your lonely ass. 

Namjoon emerges midway through your video, nudging your legs to make space for him. You shift, but only to let your legs settle in his lap as soon as he sits down.

“Here,” he offers, handing you two painkillers, which you take like they’re sweets, chewing them up so they might kick in faster. He pulls a disgusted face, but it quickly fades—probably can’t be bothered to waste any energy as well. 

“Jimin brought food,” Jungkook breaks the silence, still poking at the fire. “Should I get you some?”

You’re not sure if he’s talking to you or Namjoon, but you answer anyway. “I’m good, thanks.”

Maybe he expected a different answer, as his stick pauses for a moment, but you couldn’t care less. The chance to talk things out has passed, along with your will. It’s on him now. You’ve seen and heard enough.

“Why did you leave the party so early?” he tries again.

“It was because of me, I just—”

You cut Namjoon off; he really doesn’t need to do this for you. “Stop lying, I wanted to leave, and Namjoon and Yoongi didn’t want me to be alone.”

“Why?”

You pause your video, turning to meet Jungkook’s eyes. He’s bouncing his leg and chewing on his lip ring again, but it’s not your problem if he’s anxious or whatever. “None of your business.”

Namjoon gives your knee a slight squeeze, and while Jungkook turns his attention back to the flames like you’re the one who’s hurt him, he can go fuck himself. You’re not dealing with him right now. Not when he’s got Hara pregnant and sings love songs for her. 

Yoongi enters at that moment, settling into the armchair beside Jungkook and just managing to catch the two painkillers Namjoon tosses his way.

Silence returns, and you restart your video, losing yourself in the meditative extractions.

“Can I get a haaaawyeah?!” Tae bursts into the hostel, bringing Hope and Hara with him. Three of the four present groan in agony at the sudden noise, and you’re one of them. Still, you shift to sit up, making room for them to join.

You’re not sure why Hara chooses to sit next to you, quietly handing over a takeaway box of food with that warm, familiar smile of hers—you know it’s got to be from Jin’s. 

“I’m not hungry,” you mumble, the bite you had a few minutes ago already feeling like it never had been there to begin with.

“Please, eat something. Your body needs it.”

She’s right, but you can’t bring yourself to even lift the lid, staring blankly at it as if it’ll somehow reveal yet another surprise you’re not ready for. You know it’s not Hara’s fault you’re feeling like this, or that Jungkook chose her, but right now, all you can feel is bitterness, and her kindness only multiplies it.

Almost unconsciously, you glance up and find Jungkook’s eyes fixed on you, his leg still bouncing lightly, clearly tuned out from the lively conversation between the other guys.

You’ve kept this empty space in your heart reserved for him for so long, never realising he’d never fill it again. You just don’t have the energy for this anymore, the will to keep playing his game where he pulls you back into his world only to remind you you’re no longer really part of it. Not properly.

You wonder if Jungkook even realises what he’s doing, if he has any clue about how his actions come across. Or maybe he’s just as stuck as you, caught up in his patterns and too blind to see beyond them. The care and worry in his eyes when he looks at you, when he notices you making poor choices for your health—maybe, you reason, it’s just because he doesn’t know how to be any other way and nothing more. 

But that’s the thing about Jungkook: he genuinely cares. And that’s why he’s going to be the best dad on this earth—just not to your children.

“I’m really not hungry.” You think you see Jungkook’s jaw tick just a bit, but he again chooses to say nothing, his gaze, though, never wavering from you.

“I didn’t mean to, but damn, that woman was something else,” Tae bursts, sprawled on the floor in front of you, accidentally nudging your knee as he laughs with the others.

“Who?” you ask, trying to tune into the conversation just to get away from the other. 

“That woman who was sitting by the bar all night. Tae pulled her,” Hope bursts out laughing, especially at your disgusted, shocked face.

“Was she any good?” Namjoon inquires, like it’s the most normal thing to ask about a one-night stand.

“What can I say? She taught me things I didn’t even know existed.”

Yep, that info’s enough to make you gag for real, and judging by Yoongi and Jungkook’s expressions, they’re feeling the same.

“Want some?” you offer Yoongi the box, hoping to steer the conversation away from…whatever this is. But he just shakes his head, clearly not ready to risk upsetting his stomach as well. 

He’s pale as it is, and you can see the colour drain from his already bloodshot eyes at the sight of food. Poor man. 

“Jungkook, you hungry?” Hara offers softly, and you can’t help but glance at him again. 

His bouncing leg stills the instant she speaks to him. And even though it’s true—Jungkook can eat like a bottomless pit, never saying no to food—you don’t really want to interact with him right now. But, some things haven’t changed at all it seems, like you not being able to say no when it comes to him. 

Jungkook looks at you with those big, hopeful eyes, as if to say just eat it yourself—he’d never, like all those years ago, take food from you when it’s clear you’re barely eating yourself. But you just can’t, and with that, you get up, lean over the small coffee table separating you both, and offer him the box with both hands, a small, shaky smile on your face.

Jungkook stands up too, reaching for the food between you. You think he’ll just take it, but his hands cover yours, brushing over them until they settle on the container, and then, finally, he takes it. It catches you off guard, not just because he touched you first and not the box, but because it was absolutely deliberate.

Why he did it, you don’t know, but all you can think about is getting away fast before all your bottled-up emotions explode in your face.

“Can…uh…can someone drive me to the nearest petrol station?” you ask, standing there rooted to the spot, feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment as everyone looks up at you.

Jungkook’s half a mind to put the box back on the table and get up again, but Hope springs up from his spot beside Taehyung, fishing his keys from his pocket. “I’ve got you.”

“Thanks, I’ll just get ready.” You cast him a quick, grateful look and head to your room, eyes down.

Hope just saved you there, because if Jungkook had offered to drive, you don’t know what you’d have done. Sure, you want him to be happy—you’re not some heartless person who wishes bad things on people, especially those who are…were…close to you.

 But what about your happiness? Don’t you deserve to find peace too? To protect yourself? So yes, you’ll take every bit of help you can get, even if it’s just a lift to the petrol station.

You didn’t mean to startle so violently when you turned to close the suite door, but honestly, you hadn’t even heard Hara following you, moving soundlessly like a ghost.

“C…can I help you?” You’re gripping the door until your knuckles turn white under your sweater paws, the door not even fully open anymore.

“Can I come in?”

It’s like something out of a nightmare, knowing you can’t turn her away just because Hara’s never done anything to hurt you. You have to remind yourself again and again that she’s not the villain here, chanting it silently in your head, trying to drown out the hurt that won’t go away whenever you look at her.

So, you nod, opening the door a bit wider, then turn around to let her in and busy yourself with “looking” for your phone case, just so you don’t have to face her.

“Are you okay?”

Her words break through the sound of the bedding as you give it a shake, hoping your case might fall out, but of course it doesn’t. Just like the right answer isn’t coming to you now, not to her question.

Maybe you’re okay, as okay as you can be. Maybe you’re not. Either way, you’re definitely not making her your therapist—not when she’s involved in all this stupid mess. 

“Yeah, sure. Are you?”

“Yeah, the sickness finally went away. I just hope I start to show soon—it’s getting weird at this point.”

You move around the room, checking every corner, stopping only when you spot an edge of your phone case outside on the porch, half-buried in the snow beside the jacuzzi.

“How far along are you?”

“Seventeenth week…we’ll find out the gender soon.” There’s a subtle cheer in her voice that makes your heart soften for a moment.

It must be incredible to be expecting, especially to finally know the baby’s gender and go a bit mad with shopping. You’re sure you’d be the same, and Hara likely will be, too.

You glance her way, offering a small, warm smile before opening the door to the porch. “Got a feeling what it’ll be?”

Hara comes closer to the door as you step outside, staying in the warmth while leaning against the frame. “Yes? No? Maybe?” She laughs. “Some days I swear it’s a boy, and then others I’m convinced it’s a girl. Tomorrow’s the appointment, so…I hope mini-me reveals its gender and isn’t shy.”

You giggle, fishing the icy case out of the snow and brushing off the clinging flakes. As you come back inside, Hara moves aside, settling herself on the edge of the bed while you grab a discarded shirt of Yoongi’s to dry the case off.

“Hey…uh…I don’t quite know how to start this, but…I know you’re not doing alright.”

The glance you throw her way is wary rather than hostile, but still, you don’t want a pep talk from her.

“Please, just talk to each other.”

Biting your lip, you really don’t want to say anything. Yes, you probably should talk to Jungkook, but then again, maybe you shouldn’t. He’s had countless chances to say something, to open up if he had any thoughts at all—and he’s used none of them. Not even when you broke up with him. He stayed silent, like he is now.

Maybe he just doesn’t want to talk, not really, and you’re done waiting and being the one to start things.

“There’s nothing left to talk about. But I appreciate your concern.”

Hara just nods, staring down at the floor, rubbing her hands together between her knees while you pull on your coat and tuck your phone safely into its case.

“It’s a nice case. Did you paint it yourself?”

You glance at your phone, rubbing your thumb over the faded paint that was once so bright. You couldn’t bring yourself to get rid of it after the breakup, even though it reminds you of everything good about your time with Jungkook. Maybe there’s some masochistic streak in you that wants to punish yourself for everything you did and didn’t do. Maybe it’s time to let go of all the memories that keep pulling you back to a time that’s long gone.

“No.” You sigh, tucking it away in your coat pocket with your purse and heading to the door. You pause with your hand on the handle, checking to see if Hara’s following, which she is. She’s right behind you again, and this time, you just let out a startled scream internally, hoping you don’t flinch too visibly.

Opening the door, you let her pass first, just to keep her in your sight this time, but as soon as you’re near the entrance to the main area, she stops, raising a hand. You give her a puzzled look, but she only points to one of her ears, so you lean in, trying to make out what’s being said.

First, you catch the voices of Taehyung and Namjoon, Taehyung’s voice too loud and distinct not to notice. But when you listen a bit harder, you pick up Hope and Jungkook having a different conversation, probably a little further from the others.

“I know! I know you’re a good driver. Just…”

“Just? C’mon, what’s going on with you, C?”

“Just… take care of her, okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re acting like I’m some boy who’s just got his licence and can’t be trusted—”

The rustling of your coat drowns out the rest of their conversation as you step into the room, deciding not to eavesdrop any longer. You glance around briefly, and of course, Jungkook’s eyes find yours again, but you quickly turn towards Yoongi, resting your hands on his shoulders from behind where he’s still slouched on the one-seater. He wraps his hand around your wrist, his thumb gently brushing over your pulse.

“Why was my case out in the snow?” you murmur into his ear, which earns a lazy laugh from him. He peeks over his shoulder at you, his voice still raspy from his hangover as he murmurs back.

“You thought you could yeet it away and be done with it.”

Your cheeks go warm again; drunk-you is really ridiculous in every possible way. You’re just grateful it was only Namjoon and Yoongi who saw your breakdown, and no one else.

“Right.”

“Stay safe, yeah?”

He gives your wrist a gentle squeeze, and when your eyes meet again, even though his are still glassy from last night’s antics, there’s that quiet care in them only real family can have. 

“I will. Thanks for being there for me, Yoongs.” You press a quick kiss to his head and give him a brief squeeze around his shoulders, only for him to dramatically fake his own demise.

Straightening up, you meet Hope’s eyes, give him a quick nod, and head towards the door. Jungkook moves with the two of you, holding the door open without taking his eyes off you. His gaze is so intense that you can’t keep eye contact, mumbling a quiet, hurried “thanks” and “bye” as you follow Hope to his car.

You wouldn’t have thought Hope would drive a brand-new car, especially a vibrant red one. You wonder if an equipment rental shop really makes that much of a profit or if everyone in this town is just batshit rich. At least you’ll be safe—much safer than you’d be with Tony.

“So, how long’s the drive?” you ask, taking in the car’s interior while buckling up in the passenger seat. You notice the soft leather under your bum and the chrome trim around the touchscreen on the console.

“Maybe twenty or thirty minutes, depends on whether the roads are clear or still covered in snow.”

You hum in acknowledgment, tucking your hands under your thighs—not only because they’re still cold from the short walk outside, but also to avoid the urge to touch anything and risk breaking something you’d never be able to replace.

The car’s rolling down the steep hill you came from a few days ago in no time, and Hope’s both hands are steady on the wheel, which helps you relax in your seat. He’s definitely a good driver, like Yoongi, Jungkook, or your dad—the kind you can actually relax around without fearing for your life.

“So…would you be a kind soul and tell me what you’re all talking about in that group chat, especially about me?”

Of course you had to ask—why wouldn’t you, now that you’re alone with someone who’s clearly in on the whole scheme?

“Sure, why wouldn’t I?”

“Dunno…maybe because of Namjoon.”

“Oh, I’m not scared of him.” Hope laughs heartily, but his eyes don’t stray from the dark, snow-covered road ahead.

“Sooo…?”

“So, you should just talk to C. That’s what we’re all talking about.”

“Wow, wouldn’t have thought of that.”

“So why’re you asking if that’s not the answer you wanted?”

You fall silent.

“Listen. You and C are both hurting. And the only way forward is for you both to learn how to communicate properly, aka talk to each other.”

“There’s really nothing left to talk about.”

“Why’s that?”

“He’s clearly moved on, no?”

Like, duh.

“Has he now?”

Duh?…

“Yeah, with Hara…and the baby on its way.”

Were you wrong all this time? It can’t be.

“Oh, boy…”

“Don’t ‘oh boy’ me.”

“Why do you think he’s with Hara?”

You’re trying not to show how hard it is to think clearly in your state, but the time it takes you to respond says it all. “It’s obvious.”

“Is it? Because it sounds like you’re seeing things how you want to, not how they actually are.”

“Rude.”

“It’s true.”

“You’re really forward for someone I barely know.”

“We’re not strangers, __.” Hope side-eyes you pointedly, making you scoot a tiny bit deeper into your seat.

“Basically, we are.”

“No, we’re not friends yet, but we’re not strangers either.”

So what does this mean for you and Jungkook? He’s not exactly a friend anymore, but he’s not a stranger either. Or…maybe he is. God, your brain feels like it’s about to explode any minute now.

“People change, Hope. Jungkook’s changed.”

Hope lets a short silence settle between you, his fingers tapping softly against the leather wheel as if he’s thinking about what to say next. Only now do you realise there’s no sound from the engine, and you clock that he’s driving an electric car—even though he lives in the mountains, in the cold.

“Have you?”

You’re half-tempted to just say yes, but is that really true? You’re not sure. Maybe you’ve matured a bit, but not enough to feel like a different person. What you do know for sure is that any growth you might have had stopped the moment you left Jungkook. You’ve been so caught up in trying to heal and be someone you’re not that you haven’t really evolved into the person you could have been.

Anything really—maybe a better person, but somehow still the same you. So, what have you become in the last few years? Are you the same? Or not quite?

“Not sure.”

Hope just nods, not as if he’s simply acknowledging what you said, but as if he already knew your answer. It’s uncanny how much talking to him reminds you of Yoongi, both of them having that same no-bullshit approach.

“Listen, I’m not here to play mediator,” yep, definitely like Yoongi, “nor are the others. You need to talk to him, get things sorted before it’s too late.”

“What if it’s already too late?”

“I don’t think so.”

“You’re so positive.” You whine pathetically. 

“And you’re a chronic pessimist.” He mimics you. 

“I’m just cautious.” You pull your hands from under your thighs and throw them in the air, more to get your point across than anything.

“No, you’re scared of what might never happen.”

Ouch. But he’s not…not right.

“I’m not. I’m doing snowboarding now, aren’t I?”

“So why are we heading to the nearest petrol station if you’re meant to be snowboarding all week?”

You shut your mouth and slide your hands back under your thighs, as if that might help you disappear. Maybe you weren’t as subtle as you thought, and not only Hope but everyone else—including Jungkook—has seen right through you. Is that why Hara wanted to talk to you earlier? Urging you to finally talk to Jungkook?

“Gotcha,” Hope giggles slightly, though when he sees your sad pout, he reaches over to give your knee a quick squeeze before returning his hand to the wheel.

“Alright, I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings.” Okay, maybe not exactly like Yoongi. “But from what I’ve seen and heard, you liked snowboarding. And I’d say you probably enjoyed everything else you’ve done before, too.” He glances over at you. “Correct me if I’m wrong.”

You just give a noncommittal shrug.

“You need to trust yourself and your capabilities a bit more. Start having faith in the positive outcomes, not just the negative ones, yeah? You’ll never be able to live without fear if you overthink everything…especially things with Jungkook.”

Your pout deepens, a light sheen of tears coating your lashes, which you tell yourself are just from the hangover crashing down on you now, not from facing the uncomfortable truth of your very persona. 

“I know it’s hard, ___. But sometimes thinking the worst makes it real, even though the outcome could’ve been different if you’d just had a bit more faith.”

“Are you talking about snowboarding or Jungkook?”

“Both.” He giggles again, and you can’t help but join in, sniffing your nose a little.

When just then another small town and the petrol station come into view, you straighten up in your seat, realising you’d been slouching more and more throughout the drive.

Even though you’re not looking forward to stepping outside into the cold, you’re glad for a bit of a cooldown, just to ease your exhaustion.

Hope parks his car right next to the petrol pump, and as soon as he turns it off, you both get out and head to the boot where two big empty canisters are waiting.

“Here, I’ll go to the one right behind this one.” He offers you one of the canisters, and while you take it, you’re still confused.

“I only need one, though.”

He’s already unscrewed his, pumping petrol as he leans to the side to look at you.

“Yeah, this one’s for me.”

You’re still confused, but you start filling your canister anyway.

“Isn’t your car electric?”

“Yeah, but I need emergency petrol for the generator in case there’s an outage and the baby’s coming.”

You freeze. Is Hope…? Oh god, you were so wrong all this time. Relief floods through you, so intense that tears spring to your eyes. Jungkook’s not the baby daddy.

“You’re Hara’s baby daddy?” you squeak.

“Gosh, no!”

And now you think you might throw up, the tears shifting back to the heartbreak of yesterday.

“Areum, my wife, she’s seven months pregnant. You missed her yesterday with your epic escape.”

“Oh. Uh, congratulations.”

But you only hear a snort from behind the pump.

Not wanting to fill the canister completely, you settle on half, afraid you might not have enough left in your bank account. You’re not exactly broke, but you’re worried your employer hasn’t transferred your pay on time. Again.

“I’m off to pay,” you mumble as you pass Hope and head into the small, warm station, where a young teenager plagued with acne stands behind the counter, his eyes barely lifting from his phone throughout your whole exchange.

“Your card’s declined, miss.”

The remaining colour drains from your face at his words. This really can’t be happening.

“Could you…could you try again, please?”

The teenager just rolls his eyes, and if you weren’t so mortified, you’d probably give him some shit for being so rude. But again, the familiar sound of your card being declined fills the little station, and when he hands your card back, you just mumble, “Just a second, please,” before stepping to the far corner by the cooling systems and getting your phone out.

And sure enough, your banking app shows you’re completely drained. Fuck. So there’s only one option left, then.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up.”

“Yo,” Yoongi grumbles, and you’re pretty sure you can hear Jungkook’s panicked voice in the background, asking what’s happened.

“I need your help,” you whisper, glancing over at the teenager to check if he can hear, but he’s already engrossed in his phone again.

“What do you need?”

“I’m short on cash. I can’t pay—”

“Why?”

Yoongi’s tone isn’t accusatory in the slightest, just genuinely surprised. Hope comes into the station now too, cocking a brow at you, which you try to ease with a shaky smile.

“My employer’s late with my pay. Again. And the trip and, uh…it all just…”

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi says, flat, almost monotone, but you know he feels awful now, realising you’re actually struggling, not just joking around. It’s not his fault though; you never talk about money, and maybe he’s apologising not just because he let you pay for everything, but because you haven’t had these conversations before.

“S’alright. Can you just transfer some money quickly so I can—”

“Yeah.”

“Thank you.”

You hear him sigh—one that says, Don’t make this a thing now. Hope’s already paid for his, waiting by the door with his hands in his pockets, scanning some nearby magazines.

Knowing not to waste any more time, you hang up, open your banking app again, and refresh it every few seconds until there it is: a transfer of ten fucking thousand dollars from Yoongi, with the note, Should’ve told me sooner.

You make a mental note to give him a piece of your mind regarding the sum later as you pay for the petrol, and dash out of the station, dragging Hope with you to escape the embarrassment as soon as possible. 

“Slow down, will you?”

You let go of his arm once you’re by his car, rubbing your hands over your face in frustration as you mumble, “Sorry. God, I’m such a mess.”

“Come on, we’ll talk in the car. I just wanna get home.”

And you do, silently, closing your eyes as the car winds through the woods back the way you came.

You know Hope doesn’t want to pressure you, but you want to talk about it, just because bottling it up any longer would fry your brain.

“My employer still hasn’t transferred my pay,” you mumble. “I had to call Yoongi to borrow money.”

Hope lets out a long breath through his nose, shaking his head slowly as he listens.

“Again, as in this isn’t the first time?”

“Yeah, as in he owes me several thousand dollars by now.”

“Thousands?”

You tap your knuckle against the window, doing a quick mental tally of how much has piled up since you started working for this guy. “About fifty. Maybe a bit more.”

“No. Fucking. Way.” Hope glances over at you with each word, then back to the road. “___, that’s insane. Fifty thousand?! Why haven’t you sued him? Or quit?”

“I…” Yeah, good question. “I actually don’t know.”

It’s not like it’s a brilliant job worth hanging on to, but working from home has its perks, and finding another role in your field? That’s practically impossible without connections, which you definitely don’t have, seeing as you work from home and have done for years.

“You’re an accountant, yeah?”

“How do you know?” you ask, stopping your gentle tapping against the window to look over at his profile. 

“Oh, who d’you think told me?” He gives you a side-eye, looking slightly annoyed, and you just nod. “Areum’s an accountant too. She works for PwC, all remote. They’re looking for someone to cover her on maternity leave, and she gets to pick who fills in for her, soooo…”

“Sooo…?”

“Woman, I’m not spelling it out for you. You’re not that thick.”

Ouch. “Hey! Stop being so rude to me.”

“Then stop acting daft when you’re not.”

God, you want to strangle him. No wonder he gets along so well with Yoongi. You thought he was just this little ray of sunshine with that stupid bright laugh, but he’s feisty as hell.

“I’ll think about it,” you mumble, knowing decisions like this aren’t made right now, especially as the painkillers wear off and your mind’s about to shut down along with your eyelids.

Eventually, sleep takes over, and if you’re honest, you don’t bother fighting it.

“___, wake up.” Hope’s voice and the gentle push of his hand against your shoulder rouse you not long after. And even though sleeping, even just a bit, should have done you some good, you feel worse after a fifteen-minute nap.

Reluctantly, you straighten in your seat, trying to wake up properly, and smack your lips to get the awful taste off your tongue, but it’s no use. You’ll need to brush your teeth as soon as you’re in the suite—there’s no way around it.

“Thanks for driving me,” you rasp, glancing out of the windscreen to see Jungkook hopping from one foot to the other in the cold, his breath rising in small clouds in front of him. “What’s he doing outside?”

“He’s waiting for you.”

“Oh.”

It’s a mystery why Jungkook would do that, seeing as you’re clearly not on good terms. You’ve been trading jabs and whatnot with every interaction, so the fact that he’s not fed up by now is really baffling.

“I’m heading straight home if that’s okay.”

“Oh. Sure, yes, of course, sorry.” You unbuckle your seatbelt, knowing you shouldn’t overstay your welcome, especially as Hope is snickering again. “Thanks again and goodnight.”

“Goodnight. And…talk to him.”

Well, you don’t really have a choice now. Especially when, after closing the passenger door, you walk to the boot to get your half-empty canister, only to find Jungkook already beside you.

“Here, let me help.”

He doesn’t meet your eyes this time, which feels strange after he spent all afternoon staring at you.

“I’ve got this.”

You heft the canister out of the boot and start walking straight to Tony to fill him up, letting the canister rest by your legs, you wave Hope off as he drives away, then clear the side of Tony of snow.

“What are you doing?” Jungkook stands beside you, arms crossed, chest puffed out. He looks intimidating—hotly so—but you’re still pissed and very much not in the mood for a chat.

“What does it look like?”

He just shrugs with a smirk, and as you finish clearing the snow, you realise you’ve done the wrong side of Tony. 

How embarrassing.

“Don’t say anything.”

And he doesn’t, aside from a quiet snicker as he follows you to the other side, where you finally start clearing the right bit of snow. This time, you find the cap and pull out your car keys to open it.

Ignoring your wishes, Jungkook picks up the canister and starts pouring the petrol into the car, biting his lip piercings again.

“Talk,” you snap, wanting to get this over with—whatever it is that’s bothering him so much he’s biting his lip bloody.

Jungkook glances briefly at you, and while you’ve seen that sad expression on him countless times, it still stings.

“Why did you leave?”

You sigh, glance towards the hostel, and look back at him. “When? When I broke up with you? On the slope yesterday? From the party? Or to the petrol station?”

Alright, it sounded cooler in your head, but you’re now realising you might have a bit of a tendency to run off. Oops.

“All of them, I guess.” He muses, shutting the cap and screwing the canister lid back on as he turns to you fully.

“Jungkook, that’s a conversation I’m not having with you right now.”

“And when would be the best time for it?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe not outside, not in the middle of the night, not when I’m batshit hungover, and especially not when you’ve built a new life for yourself.”

That last bit wasn’t really what you wanted to say, but it slipped out anyway, the perfect proof that it’s indeed not the best time. 

“That’s not fair.”

“It’s not fair for you to treat me like this, Jungkook. I’m not doing this anymore.”

You turn while watching him run a hand through his hair, then stomp through the deep snow towards the hostel to stop yourself freezing out here.

“Stop running away!”

“I’m not running away. I’m going to bed. You should too.”

Jungkook catches the door at the last second and steps into Dionysus right behind you.

“You are running away.”

You turn to face him sharply, causing him to nearly bulldoze into you, but he catches himself in time, stepping back a bit with his hands on his hips, still clutching the canister in his reddened hand.

“Why did you need petrol for Tony, who’s been out of it for days? Why now?”

You purse your lips, mirroring his stance instinctively, staring each other down. You’re stubborn, but so is he, and you’re not backing down. He wants to start a fight? See who breaks first? See if you’re really running away from him? Well, you’ll prove him wrong.

“Safety. Caution. Responsibility. Take your pick.”

There’s a familiar glint in his eyes—the one that says he knows you’re bullshitting him. God, you’ve missed this. Missed him.

“So, not fleeing the scene, hm?”

“Not fleeing the scene.”

And you’re not. Change of plans: you’re staying. You’ll stay, and you’ll whoop his ass by becoming the best snowboarder on the planet.

Jungkook just nods, and you nod back.

Usually, this would be the moment he’d tackle you and fuck the truth out of you in no time. And though you can vividly picture it, you need to keep your distance. So before the tension builds too much, before Jungkook becomes too much, you stop nodding and let your arms drop to your sides.

“Goodnight, Jungkook.”

He mirrors your stance, and though his eyes dim with that usual sadness, you refuse to see it as longing. Because why would he?

“Goodnight, ___.”

You nod, and while you can’t quite tear yourself away from his gaze, you eventually turn and head up to your suite, finding Yoongi already silently and fast asleep, you can’t help but to leave a tiny gap in the door, just enough to watch as Jungkook disappears into his own room.

Day 5

You feel good.

No, scratch that—you feel absolutely pumped, energised, and oh-so-ready for the day. There’s a wild fire blazing through your veins, just waiting to be unleashed, and you’re absolutely down for it.

Sitting alone in the dining room after that little talk with Yoongi about the sum he transferred to your bank account, only to be met with an eye roll in response, you’re busy preparing the most protein-packed breakfast Namjoon’s buffet has on offer. You’ll definitely need it—not just because your body’s craving nutrients, but because your brain needs to be at its best so you can finally beat Jungkook at his own game.

No, not with his petty remarks and actions, but by getting your answers with carefully placed, strategically even, questions so he doesn’t even realise you’re grilling him. You’re brilliant, so of course you can pull this off. The sulky victim era of ___ is over—here comes the new, improved you.

Though, if you’re honest, you know there’s a pretty decent chance that Jungkook might catch on to your plan. He’s always been good at that, always been just as brilliant as you. But his competitive side usually has you beat by the end of the day. But not today. Today, you’re determined to win.

Especially when the man himself strolls in, looking sinfully good. His hair’s damp, falling messily over his forehead and eyes, while his thin white shirt hangs loosely off his shoulders, clinging slightly to his skin where he didn’t dry off properly.

“Morning, Kook,” you chirp, practically singing it, intentionally calling him by the nickname you lovingly gave him all those years ago.

Jungkook slows his steps, one eyebrow raised and lips pursed. The confusion’s painted all across his face exactly as you’d hoped. Excellent.

“Morning.” He stops at your table, glancing at the empty chairs next to you and opposite you, and when he takes the one right beside you, you’re doing a little celebratory dance on the inside.

“Did you sleep well, Kook?” He eyes you as he gets his plate ready, and while he answers, you take a small bite of your food, your overly cheerful grin firmly in place.

“Uh, yeah, did you?”

“Of course! Snuggly kept me company all night.”

The confusion in Jungkook’s eyes deepens, and you’d give anything to know what’s running through his head right now. You keep your face just as innocent and cheerful as possible, though it’s getting harder by the second.

“So, what’ve you been up to these past five months?” If your math’s right, Hara’s now a little over four months along. So, if Jungkook was around back then, you’ve got your answer.

“Five months?” He raises an eyebrow again, biting into the sandwich he’s just thrown together. There’s far more ham than bread—probably more to keep his hands clean than for actual taste.

“Yeah, where’ve you all been, then?”

“Uh,” Jungkook chews, blinking at you. You can practically see the gears turning in his head as he tries to figure you out. “I’ve been to Bangkok, Hawaii, and, uh… before that, I was here for a few months.”

No. Fucking. Way. So all those mixed signals, not only from Jungkook but all his friends too, weren’t so mixed after all.

“This town’s pretty small. Is there anything exciting to do off-season?”

“Well, Hara had a huge birthday celebration. So there was that.”

“Hara’s birthday’s in August?”

“Yeah, why?”

So he gave her a baby for her birthday. How pathetic it makes you feel, realising you’ve been too busy being still his to fall for someone new all this time. But you don’t let the heartbreak show this time. You swallow it down because shutting down won’t help you now.

“Just asking.”

Jungkook just nods again, still contemplating your words, trying to read your motives like he always does, though you’re as blank as can be beneath your smile. It’s not that you’ve lost your determination to get through snowboarding—no, you’re way too competitive and stubborn to back down now. Still, you kind of wish you were as drunk as you’d been two days ago.

The upside of being fully sober again is that you feel fantastic. Physically, anyway. The downside is that your brain won’t shut up.

You vividly remember the night you ended things, the exhaustion, the desperation in your every word as you tried to explain yourself to him. It wasn’t that you didn’t love him; you did and you still do, maybe even more than you should. But back then, you’d grown tired of always feeling like you weren’t enough, of feeling like you were someone he didn’t really need.

You’d always been the one to soothe your doubts on your own, to make excuses for him and his choices, to tell yourself it was just a phase, that he’d eventually grow out of it—that he’d grow out of it for you. Not that he’d never do anything risky again, but just enough for him to see that some things are too dangerous to try.

Losing him was completely your fault, you know that, and even though he’s going to be a dad—even if it’s not your child—you’d crawl back to him in a heartbeat if there were any chance. Not that you’d ever be a homewrecker; that’s something you’d never do, and you’ll respect any relationship on earth as it is. But if he’s only going to be a father, if he’s only co-parenting with Hara and they’re not together, you’d try to make it work somehow.

Or maybe you’re just delusional, thinking you’d be okay with him having a kid that’s not yours. Because deep down, the thought of him being with someone else after you—even if you weren’t together anymore—makes you want to throw up. Not just because picturing it is one of your worst nightmares, but because all the love declarations he made, and will probably make again in that scenario, would be empty in their truest form. At least in your eyes. 

There’s nothing you can do about it; it’s not like you’re some grandma who thinks virginity before marriage is a must. But if he was with you and says he’d want to be with you again, there’s no chance if he had someone else in between.

Jungkook sniffs beside you, and you’re not exactly proud that, since learning he’s staying here at the hostel too, you’ve kept spare napkins nearby, just like the good old days, and you’re not proud as you hand him one with a small smile, still chewing, knowing his rhinitis is worst in the morning.

“Thanks,” he’s smiling, though there’s still that look of doubt in his eyes, as if he’s still trying to work out what you’re up to. “So, how about you?”

You’ve half a mind to exaggerate again, but you know you’ll need to save your energy today, especially since you’re spending the whole day with Jungkook. So you stick to the truth. “Nothing really. Mostly work, and a few activities I’ve tried.”

“It’s weird.”

“What is?”

“You doing all that stuff.”

Jungkook doesn’t look as accusatory as he did the first day; this time, he actually looks…sad.

“Didn’t you want me that way?” You keep your tone light, friendly even, but deep down, that old pettiness rises to the surface.

“No.” The word slips from his lips without a moment’s hesitation, his sad eyes fixed on yours, and suddenly, you can’t breathe. It just doesn’t make sense.

“I…why?”

He slowly swallows his last bite and reaches for his coffee, just to toy with the rim of the mug. Then he lifts his gaze to meet yours, boring into your irises as if to tell you more than he’s actually saying. “That’s not you.”

You just stare at him, trying to understand why he’d want you to change all those years ago, only to now tell you, indirectly, he doesn’t like the person he’d pushed you to become. No words form in your brain, again too overwhelmed by it all, so you just nod, because quite honestly, he’s right. It’s not who you are, even if some of the less riskier activities, like snowboarding, turned out to be more fun than you’d expected.

Jungkook doesn’t seem to handle the silence well as you quietly finish your meal, as his leg starts bouncing under the table again, occasionally brushing against yours. You’re sure he doesn’t even notice it, but you do and while you think about shifting your leg slightly away, that faint touch of his somehow soothes the intense longing you have for him.

How many times you’ve thought about calling him, only to remind yourself he was the one who let you go without a word, is beyond counting now. Trying to count would be like trying to reach infinity without breaking down as the despair catches up to you and you simply can’t do either. 

You need, with all your might, to pull your mind out of this endless void and focus on the good. You’re able to have a normal conversation with Jungkook. He’s fine. You’re fine. And if you can make it through these next two weeks, you tell yourself that you’ll be fine too, even if it’s without him. Because that countdown in your head has shifted—from thinking you’ve got time to work things out, to savouring these last moments with him as much as possible, hoping to make memories you can hold onto as fondly as the ones you made all those years ago.

“So, today’s blue slope day?”

Jungkook nods with a smirk, eyes still on his cup, clearly lost in thought. “Yeah. You ready?”

“Sure. I was born ready.”

The snort that escapes him mirrors your own, letting the sadness fade into that playful light in his eyes you’ve always adored when he finally looks back up to you. 

“Then let’s head out, shall we?”

“Yes, sir!” You salute playfully, downing the rest of your or rather his iced Americano—sneakily poured into a regular mug—in one go and standing as soon as Jungkook does.

It doesn’t take long for you both to get fully geared up and leave the hostel, Jungkook closing the usual distance between you by walking much closer than he has on any of the previous days, though you welcome it this time. 

“Give me your board.” Jungkook stretches out his free hand towards you when you’re just a few feet away from Dionysos.

“I can handle it.”

“I know you can. But you don’t have to.”

Wondering whether you’re about to be stubborn again, you decide to let him help you. It’s a nice gesture, and knowing his strength—which has clearly grown over the last few years—it’s no bother for him to carry your snowboard too. So you hand it to him, mumbling a small, grateful “thanks” and fall into step with him, the rustling of your gear and the dull thud of your boots the only sounds breaking the otherwise silent streets.

“It’s such a lovely day.” You marvel at the first rays of sunlight shining down, making the snow-covered streets steam ever so slightly, looking straight out of a fantasy.

The town’s not fully awake yet; a few people are setting up their displays outside, greeting you both with warm smiles and friendly faces. It’s easy being here, so welcoming when you ignore the chaos that’s crashed down on you since you arrived.

You’d like to imagine living here, spending the rest of your life in this place with Jungkook, befriending his friends too, all in some alternate universe. You daydream about a winter wedding, teaching your kids how to build a snowman, and everything else.

It would be nice, it would be perfect. Because in that universe, you’d still be with Jungkook, and you’d be not only happy but fulfilled.

“It is, the slopes should be perfect too.”

A small group of kindergarteners crosses your path just before the slopes, and as your gaze drifts from them to the shop windows behind, you catch the reflection of you and Jungkook side by side. He’s looking at the kids, full of adoration, with that same endearing smile you fell in love with all those years ago.

His hair’s just as shiny and healthy, his eyes sparkling in that familiar way. You’ve always known how much Jungkook wants a family—he always has, just as you always did. It’s one of the reasons you connected so quickly. His values and hopes for the future aligned so perfectly with yours that falling for him and picturing a life together was almost inevitable.

You knew back then that having different hobbies wasn’t the most important thing in a relationship, that differences in those areas wouldn’t decide its downfall. But somehow, you both let those differences take centre stage.

It wasn’t just poor communication that damaged things; you lost sight of what truly mattered, letting the good become tainted with doubt, trust begin to crack, and your hearts bleed in ways they never should have.

Standing there now, side by side, you realise that everything that happened, the way you both handled things, was so unnecessarily foolish. You wish you’d made different choices. You look perfect together, like one of those couples you see and just know they’re meant to be, like they’re soulmates, like they’re fated.

Jungkook’s eyes lift up, catching yours in the window, and his smile grows just a bit wider. There’s still that adoration there—or is it just nostalgia? Or maybe it’s the inner peace he feels, knowing he’ll soon have a child of his own? You’re not sure, and you’re afraid to let yourself think too deeply about it. Because, honestly, if it’s anything but adoration, you’d spiral so much, so irrevocably, that you might just break all over again.

Switching your board to his other hand, where he’s already holding his own, he lifts his now free arm and wraps it over your shoulder, pulling you into his side. Your head doesn’t even reach his eyes, and your shoulder aligns perfectly with his arm, like you’re a puzzle piece fitting into him. You can’t help the broad smile that breaks over your face when he says, “I’m glad you’re here.”

You turn away from the window, tilting your head up to look into his beautiful brown eyes, taking in this small, pure moment that you’ll lock away in the deepest parts of your heart and cherish for the rest of your life. “Me too.”

Simple moments like these with Jungkook have always been so beautiful. It’s always been like this, just the two of you in a bubble where nothing else matters. The ache in your heart should ease in moments like this, but instead, it grows, the longing building until it’s nearly unbearable.

How perfect it would feel to kiss him now, how your heart and soul would sing if he kissed you back. The realisation—the overwhelming certainty—that he truly was the one for you hits you like an avalanche, burying you so deeply you’ll never find a way out.

Still, you turn your face away, and he lets you go.

“Let’s get it.” Jungkook cheers, and you echo his words, because you don’t know what else to say, walking side by side to the lift. Thankfully, this time without any annoying interruptions from his fangirls.

The first ride up in the ski gondola is equal parts terrifying and beautiful. The trees below look like miniature toys, and the mountain peaks seem too stunning to be real, like a picture painted by an artist. The gondola is empty except for the two of you, Jungkook sitting across from you, both of you gazing outside. But every now and then, you can’t help glancing at his reflection.

Jungkook talks the entire way up, going over everything you should know about snowboarding by now. His calm voice, his solid presence right in front of you, and his patient review of the basics settle the last of your nerves, along with Hope’s words, still ringing loudly in your mind.

Fear is faith in the negative.

And you don’t want to live like that again—not now, and not when it’s just snowboarding. You trust your own abilities, and you trust Jungkook to keep you safe, like he always has. Well, aside from that one camping incident—but you’ll turn a blind eye to that for now. You have to, because one lapse in his judgement all those years ago shouldn’t undo everything else he’s proven to you.

The morning is spent making descent after descent, each one becoming easier and more fun, especially with Jungkook staying close. You manage to fall less and less, and when you do, he’s always right there, reaching out to help you back on your feet.

And while you’re laughing and joking like old times, it feels as if no time has passed at all.

Just before lunch, you both find yourselves back at the gondola, though this time it’s a different one.

“There’s this restaurant way up there.” Jungkook points into the distance, and you squint, trying to follow his finger, but the sun is too bright to make out exactly where he’s pointing. “The food’s amazing, and we’ll be able to take a way longer run down. It’ll build your stamina and get you ready for the harder slopes tomorrow.”

“Sounds good.” You smile at him, excited not only for the food but also for the chance to push yourself a bit more.

When you step into the gondola with a few others, it’s so packed that you have to squeeze in beside Jungkook, pressing against his side. With his broad shoulders and your thick coat, there’s not much room and after a few minutes, Jungkook shifts and lifts his arm, draping it over your shoulder to give you both a bit more space.

You frown. Even though it’s more comfortable this way, you don’t like it at all. If he’s with Hara, this is crossing boundaries left and right. You know that if you were still together and he did this with another woman, it’d be a dealbreaker.

The gesture sours your mood instantly, letting your thoughts spiral in a way that has you dangerously close to snapping at him. But you hold back. You won’t start a scene now, not here; you’ll wait until you’re at the restaurant and talk things through.

When you reach the top and leave the gondola, heading toward the small restaurant by the lift, Jungkook keeps his hand resting lightly on your back.

It’s ironic, really. You left because you wanted him to find happiness, to be with someone who wouldn’t bring conflict, someone he wouldn’t feel the need to change. And here he is, supposedly happy, yet acting like you’re still his, clinging to old habits like they’re the only things he has left with you. 

Maybe that’s the saddest part of all. He’s got everything he once told you he wanted, yet he’s still holding onto pieces of the past, unable to let them go. And maybe he’ll never fully move on, just like you haven’t, even if he thinks he has. But that’s not something you can fix. You tried—more than once—to help him keep his distance, to let go of whatever still kept him wounded. Even if it wasn’t the perfect approach, pretending to be with Yoongi, you thought it might help him move on. But he has to handle that himself now; you’re done being the one to guide him there.

You deserve peace, too. You deserve to be able to look back on your time together without feeling unresolved tension. If that means keeping your distance, letting him live his life with Hara without stepping in, then so be it. You’re done making excuses for him, done justifying his behaviour to yourself. He’s made his choices, back then and now too, and now it’s time for you to make yours.

You take a deep breath, letting it all settle within you as you step into the restaurant. The hurt, the sadness, the longing—sure, it’s all still there, and maybe it always will be. But now, it’s just that: memories. Moments you once cherished, now filed away in a part of your heart that no longer needs to cling so tightly. Or at least, that’s what you hope.

As you sit down across from him, letting go bit by bit, you realise that maybe this is what closure should feel like. Hurtful, and not freeing at all. 

“You’re kinda touchy.” 

Jungkook looks up from his menu, running the tip of his tongue over his lip piercing. “I always am.”

Your lips press into a firm line, shoulders tensing even more. Jungkook’s eyes dart over you, and he realises too late that your mood has shifted. As he catches on, his nervous habits start to surface in an instant. He fumbles with his menu, his leg bouncing so hard that the tablecloth shifts slightly with each movement.

“Doesn’t it feel wrong to you?” You ask, your tone so accusatory it even startles you.

Jungkook gulps, actually gulps, and you feel the urge to laugh or maybe storm off altogether.

“No?” He sounds uncertain, though there’s a strange conviction in his voice, even with his nerves. “Does it bother you?”

“Yes.”

You stare each other down, Jungkook nodding but tilting his head slightly, eyebrows drawn. “Is it because of Yoongi?”

Should you come clean and tell him you’re not dating Yoongi, that he’s just your cousin? But you can’t see the point. It wouldn’t change anything now, you’re sure of that. Though you’re not sure if the snort and shake of your head is more because of how absurd it all is, or if it’s meant to answer his question. Either way, it fits. And as Jungkook exhales sharply through his nose, his jaw clenching in a steady rhythm, you don’t say anything more.

The tension between you feels like it’s growing and the silence between you both is almost suffocating you. You try to distract yourself by looking at the scenery outside the window, but it’s no use.

“I never wanted to do all those things,” you mumble, as if you can somehow lift a bit of the weight off your chest. “But I felt so…so unworthy…so empty. I needed to do it, even if I hated most of it.”

The waiter sets down your plates and drinks, wishing you a pleasant meal. Still, you don’t look up at Jungkook, maybe out of embarrassment, maybe because you just can’t. Instead, you stare at your food, forcing yourself to eat, even if it’s only a little.

“You shouldn’t have.” His voice is gentle, and you feel his gaze burning onto your face, though you try to ignore it. “Not for someone else, at least.”

Is he talking about himself? Or does he think you did it all for Yoongi? Either way, he’s right, though those words would have made more difference if he’d said them years ago.

“Maybe you’re right.”

It’s unusual to see Jungkook eating so slowly, and it’s not like you to keep so quiet, either. It’s not that you can’t handle silence, but sharing a meal like this without any connection feels so pointless.

“Was it easy?” Jungkook eventually asks, and your eyes involuntarily snap up to him.

“What was?”

“Moving on so fast…”

Sometimes, looking at Jungkook like you do now, you marvel at how much he’s matured. His features have lost that softness, his smooth skin now showing faint lines from laughter and time you weren’t there to share.

You’d always imagined growing old with him, and even though it hasn’t been that long, your heart aches for all the time lost.

The faint, bluish shadows under his eyes, something he didn’t even have during his finals, make him look not just tired, but drained off life. You can only hope it’s not because of you.

“I never did, so I can’t say.”

You both go back to eating, letting silence settle again as you try to process it all. Maybe you need a whiteboard, or even a list, something to help you make sense of it all, thinking you’ll definitely do that later, once you’re back at the hostel tonight. 

More than half your plate is still full, but you can’t seem to eat any more. As you set your cutlery down and tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, you notice Jungkook’s already finished his meal.

“You should eat more.”

“I’m full. I’ll just take it to go.”

And after Jungkook sighs and nods, you do just that, quickly insisting you’ll pay for your own meal, refusing to let him cover it for you.

Finally back outside, the sky has shifted, like your mood, from sunny and clear to dark, with low-hanging, heavy clouds.

“That’s odd,” Jungkook mutters, fishing his phone out and typing quickly. “Forecast didn’t mention a downpour.”

“What should we do?” Your nerves flare, body tingling and palms starting to sweat as that familiar panic creeps in, the kind that takes over any time things veer off-plan.

Jungkook’s eyes dart over his screen, only adding to your unease.

“Shit,” he curses under his breath and puts his phone away. “So, uh, there’s a thunder cell that’s come up out of nowhere, and there’s a warning for a severe snowstorm. But it’s all good. We still have time.”

Just then, the first big snowflakes start falling from the clouds, and the wind picks up. As you look up at the sky, your voice trembles, “Jungkook?”

“Alright, okay, maybe we don’t have as much time as I thought. We’re going to head down this way quickly, but safely.” He points toward a fork in the path where you can see a sign with a blue dot in one direction and a black one in the other—the black meaning it’s the most difficult and dangerous run there is.

“Okay.” You don’t sound entirely convinced, partly because, while you believe in your skills, you know that in these weather conditions, even the best skills won’t count for much.

“Strap on your board. We need to go.”

And you follow his instructions because, at this point, there’s no other option. The wind has picked up dramatically by the time you straighten up again, and you have to strain every muscle to stay upright against its force.

You’re terrified, and Jungkook’s focused, hurried pace isn’t doing much to settle your nerves.

“You’re leading, so I can keep my eyes on you.” 

You nod, shifting your weight forward to start descending, but keeping control of the board proves not just difficult, but almost impossible. Your vision blurs with the flurry of snowflakes, even through your goggles, you can barely make out the slope or see the fork ahead.

“To the right!” you hear Jungkook shout from behind, his voice frantic to its core. But as you pick up speed, the wind shoves you beyond the limit of what you can handle, pushing you towards the left, dangerously close to the black run.

“To the right, ___!”

You try, you really do, but you can’t seem to manage it. Like a leaf in a gale, you’re pulled in the direction you don’t want to go, helpless to stop it. Lungs burning with each short breath, you think you scream the moment you realise it’s too late, skidding down the steep, black slope.

You try to brake, just like Jungkook taught you, but your knees are weak, your muscles not trained enough to regain control.

Jungkook rushes up beside you, and even though you’re in full survival mode, his presence brings you a tiny sliver of reassurance, even if it’s just for a while. 

“You’re doing good, keep going!”

And you do, tears streaming down under your scarf. The storm keeps pushing you off course, pulling you again and again in directions you don’t want to go. But Jungkook’s right there, sticking close beside you, trying to block out some of the wind’s blasts and guiding you as best as he can.

It feels like an eternity—fighting against nature, fighting to stay upright, fighting the fear building stronger and stronger in your chest. Somehow, even though you left the marked slope ages ago, heading somewhere unknown and unsure if it’ll lead you to safety, you spot a small, abandoned-looking hut in the distance.

“Try to stop!” Jungkook yells, his voice barely reaching you through the howling wind.

“Now?”

“Now!”

You manage to stop, though clumsily, falling hard onto your bum, every muscle aching so painfully you’re barely able to move. Jungkook ditches his board in seconds, crawling over to help you with yours as the frozen clips stubbornly resist coming loose.

“You good?” He glances briefly at your face, breath visible in short puffs matching yours, his lips chapped and slightly split.

You nod, though you’re still trembling, trying to steady yourself as adrenaline surges through you without much mercy. 

Jungkook gets up with your board in hand, offering his free hand to you in a heartbeat and pulling you up effortlessly. After he picks up his own board, jointing yours, he clasps your hand with his free one and bolts towards the hut, dragging you along with him. 

Thankfully, or rather miraculously, the hut’s indeed abandoned and open. And while Jungkook pushes you inside first, letting the boards clatter onto the wooden floor as he leans against the door, both of you are panting and gasping for air, needing this break more than anything. 

The hut’s not really windproof, small gaps in the wooden walls still letting the cold wind whistle inside.

“Seriously? What the hell were you thinking?!” He rips his helmet off and throws it to the boards on the ground.

You try to straighten yourself, though the ache’s nearly too much. “I… I tried. I… it…”

“You just never listen, do you? I told you to turn right back there, but of course, you went your own way. Always have, always will.”

The storm outside’s picked up even more now, and the cold has seeped into your bones, though you still fold your arms, doing your best to keep your voice steady despite the burn in your lungs. “Oh, please, Jungkook. Don’t act like I’m the only one who doesn’t listen. You’ve got selective hearing when it suits you.”

He lets out a frustrated sigh, running a gloved hand through his sweat-dampened hair. “Selective hearing? I spent years trying to tell you things, but you were always too stubborn to actually listen.”

“Right, yeah, I’m the stubborn one,” you snap right back. “You still can’t even talk to me unless it’s about some bullshit like snowboarding.”

“Oh, as if you’re any better.”

“I am! You didn’t even say one word before I left!” you explode, ripping off your helmet too, followed by your gloves, yeeting them across the hut.

“Oh, fuck off, ___! I wanted to, but clearly, you couldn’t wait to fuck Yoongi as soon as you got rid off me!”

“Yoongi’s my cousin, Jungkook. Family. But I wouldn’t expect you to know that, since you barely know anything about my life anymore.”

Jungkook’s face falls at that, and you can clearly see how his whole world view crumbles in his eyes, leaving nothing behind but a hollow sadness you’ve never seen before. Though you’re sad too, you’re hollow too, and so you continue, “Don’t pin this on me when I never moved on, when you were the one fucking Hara and giving her a baby.”

His unfocused eyes snap to you, lips still parted as he breathes, “I never slept with her. She’s Jin’s wife.”

You feel like you’re falling, falling so hard and fast you can’t stop. The tears that coat your eyes are nothing compared to the agonising realisation ripping you open. All those years, even all this hurt you’ve been experiencing these last few days, were unfounded.

If you weren’t this close to Jungkook, you’d think his red nose was just from the cold, but the silver lining his eyes carry shows just how broken you both are, what you did to yourselves without even realising it in the first place. 

“You moved on,” you press out, fighting the sob that threatens to spill.

“I haven’t.”

How foolish all the assumptions were, how foolish of him to assume just as much. How utterly foolish that you both lost the ability to talk to each other long before your relationship ended.

But maybe it had to come to this for you to learn what it’s like to be separated, to learn how to communicate… but have you really? You reckon you haven’t, not given how things went down. Maybe it’s too late, just as Hope warned you, though a small, fragile part in you clings to the delusion that things might still turn out right.

“Let’s… let’s call for help.” You turn, unable to keep looking at Jungkook, and you’re sure he needs time to process the bomb that’s just dropped.

“Yeah,” he’s taking out his phone again, though the breath he lets out is nothing short of concerning. “My phone’s dead. How about yours?”

By now you’ve sat down on the small, bare bed, as standing any longer would have had you fainting by this point. While you rummage through your inner coat pocket to pull out your old beaten-up phone, Jungkook stomps over with his snow-covered boots and sits down beside you, leaving enough space between you that it feels like miles.

Lighting up the screen, you see your phone’s battery miraculously still well over 90%, but there’s absolutely no signal. “Nope, no signal. We’re stranded.”

Just as you’re about to put your phone back, Jungkook stops you with his voice. “You still got the case?”

You pause, looking over at him, only to meet hopeful eyes you can’t quite place.

“Uh, yeah. You clearly got rid of yours though.”

You hate sounding so bitter, but it is what it is. Years of feeling the way you did can’t be undone with one revelation.

“I lost it… my phone, too, when I was in the Caribbean shortly after we…”

You hum and nod because what else is there to do?

“Why did you keep it?”

Your eyes stray from your phone, where you’re running your thumb over one of Jungkook’s doodles on the case like it always does, to him, though he’s not looking at you this time, just fiddling with his gloves in his lap.

“I can’t get rid of memories. You should know that.”

“Even if they’re bad?” He turns his head to you, though his eyes are fixed on your phone. The way he’s slouching is so unlike him, and it hurts to see what you’ve done to him.

“They aren’t bad.”

Jungkook nods a few times, as if he’s trying to cement your words in his mind, rewriting everything he thought was real but never was.

Eventually, Jungkook stands up and walks over to a small closet, pulling open the doors to see what’s inside.

“No way.” He breathes out a laugh, and you crane your neck to look past his broad shoulders, though it’s no use.

When he turns, arms full of vacuum bags stuffed with blankets and pillows, you feel like you might scream in delight. Especially when Jungkook rips them open beside you and a waft of freshly washed fabric hits you.

“That’s like hitting the jackpot.” You look up at him, your grin as wide as his as he just laughs. “Can you light the fireplace too?”

Jungkook furrows his brows as he looks around the hut, likely because he hadn’t spotted it until now. But as soon as he clocks it, along with the stack of dried wood beside it, he’s off in a flash, inspecting the chimney and everything else.

Meanwhile, you gather all the bedding and spread it out on the bed, purposefully ignoring the fact that there’s only this one bed in the hut and not even a couch. It shouldn’t be a big deal—you’ve done more than sleep in the same bed as Jungkook before, and you’re both clearly single, so there’s nothing your conscience can protest about.

Still, time has passed, and you’ve clearly drifted apart more than you would’ve liked. It’s an unusual situation you’re in, an emergency really, and you’ll have to adjust to it without reading too much into it.

“Got a lighter on you?”

You pull it out of your pocket, leaving Yoongi’s cigarettes in your pocket that you nicked this morning alongside before leaving, and toss the lighter his way which he catches effortlessly with one hand, lighting up the kindling he’s set, framed by a few larger sticks of wood.

Jungkook watches the fire intently, and soon enough the hut’s heating up, allowing you to take off your coat. Not wanting to keep your boots on any longer—by now, they’ve cut off all circulation in your feet—you pull them off as well, then crawl onto the bed, settling against the headboard under the layers of blankets.

You’re absolutely knackered at this point, and as you check the time on your phone, you realise it’s already past dinnertime.

“You can join me, you know?” you smile as Jungkook turns around, muttering an “okay” and starting to peel off his gear too, though you don’t miss the flush creeping up to his ears.

How endearing he can still be.

The bed’s clearly not meant for two—especially not when Jungkook’s become this buff. He’d probably struggle to fit on his own, let alone with someone else. And though you’re fairly petite next to him, you’re both squished together, personal space nonexistent. Still, it’s better than freezing to death outside.

“I’m so tired,” you yawn.

“I’m so hungry.”

The pout on Jungkook’s face makes you giggle; it’s just so him. Without thinking, you lean over him to fetch the food from your coat. Only when you settle back beside him do you notice how stiff he’s gone.

You don’t comment on it, just hand him the leftovers, which he reluctantly takes, though this time he doesn’t engulf your hands like he did yesterday. Not that you’d admit it, but you’re a bit sad he didn’t do it again.

“You hungry too? It’s your food.”

“I’m good, Jungkook, please just eat.”

You’re starting to read him again, just a bit less hazy than it was the last few days. So before he can start arguing with you, those sad boba eyes pleading for you to eat when you’re genuinely not hungry, you lay your hand over his arm, giving it a light squeeze. “I’m not hungry, promise.”

With that, Jungkook starts to eat and you lean back, slumping more into the blankets as he eats in silence, your eyes growing heavy with each passing minute. 

“You can sleep if you want.” Jungkook gently pulls the blanket higher over your shoulder as you lie down fully, your head nearly resting against his hip.

“I’m still cold,” you mumble sleepily, though there’s no chance you’ll really fall asleep while you’re still shivering like this. The storm’s really taken it out of you.

Jungkook shifts, and when you open your eyes, you realise he’s finished eating and is lying down facing you. “Turn around.”

Lying beside him like this, faces just inches apart, is something you never thought would happen again. And while it’s hard to look away from him—the slope of his nose, the Cupid’s bow of his lips making them almost too inviting—you fight against the blankets draped over you both and turn around. Jungkook slips an arm around your waist without much care, pulling you fully against him until there’s no space left between you.

Heart racing like a hummingbird’s wings, you try to relax into his hold, but the thin layer of fabric separating you makes it feel as though you’re bare. You’d seen the contours of his body when he stripped off his gear, the black thermal shirt and pants clinging to his muscles like a second skin, leaving nothing to the imagination. But feeling his solid body against yours like this, after so long, leaves your head spinning in circles you can’t seem to stop.

You haven’t noticed how your hips press back against his crotch, haven’t noticed the way your body instinctively moves against his until Jungkook’s breath hits your ear.

“Sorry,” you breathe, but somehow, you can’t bring yourself to stop. His large hand, which had been resting on the mattress beside you, slides up along your stomach, stopping just before cupping your breast from below, and you know you’ve stepped through a door that should’ve been left closed.

Heat rises within you, making you shiver with something far more pleasant than the cold. You need more of him, more of his touch, and your hand slips from beneath the blankets, reaching back to tangle in the hair at the back of his head, willing yourself to just feel and nothing more. 

His quick breaths ghost across the part of your neck that’s bare, just enough to spark more want not only in your heart but your cunt too. You tug gently at his hair, urging him down, igniting a fire you know won’t be put out easily.

Before his hand fully cups your breast, he pulls you even tighter against him, hot lips kissing and sucking at your skin as you press yourself back, trying to ease the ache between your legs against his growing cock.

The low moans slipping from Jungkook’s throat are music to your ears, and the realisation that he likely sang that song not for Hara, but for you, sends another wave of arousal out of your cunt.

“Jungkook…” you rasp, basking in his touch, but as soon as his name leaves your lips, he pulls back.

Thinking you’ve done something wrong, you turn your head, only to see him tugging off the last of his clothes. Relieved and more turned on than you’ve ever been, you strip off your own gear, leaving the blanket draped over you. It’s been years, your body’s changed, and while you know it shouldn’t matter, you still hope he doesn’t notice.

In a blink, he’s back, resuming where he left off, though now it’s his warm, smooth skin against yours. The ridges of his abdomen press along your back, and the feel of his cock—hard and oh so hot—against the cheeks of your ass is pure bliss.

You turn your head, trying to catch his gaze, maybe even hoping for a kiss, but when you catch sight of the familiar chain around his neck, it stops you in your tracks.

Jungkook pauses too, his eyes questioning, but as soon as he realises what you’re looking at, he gives you a lazy smirk, his hand cupping your face to turn you towards him and with it your whole body. 

You expect him to kiss you now, hungrily like he always did, but instead, he brushes his lips along your cheek, your neck, shifting to settle between your legs while the cool metal of the chain’s grazing your tits with every shift of his body.

“I don’t have a condom. I could…eat you out.”

His thigh pressing against you doesn’t lessen the ache, but you remember the one scare you had together, that time you thought you might be pregnant not long after you’d started dating. It wasn’t that you wouldn’t have wanted it, but you’d both been so young. Even now, the thought makes your heart skip, but not as violently as it used to. You’d be ready and willing to take the risk, though, would he? 

“I’m clean, on the pill.”

Jungkook lets out a low groan against your neck as you press your thigh gently against his cock, needing to give something back.

“I haven’t been with anyone since you. So clean.”

Is he serious? The thought hits you hard, and though you know he never lied to you before, you still can’t help but pull back, needing to see his face.

“You haven’t?”

“No.” His voice is barely a whisper, and the same love you remember shines in his eyes, making you tear up.

“Me too.”

“Fuck.” He returns to your neck, his fingers tracing your lines until they find your weeping cunt, slipping between your lips to spread your juices in gentle, familiar strokes as he preps you, every touch an echo of the love that maybe never faded.

The first stretch of his middle finger inside you is nothing short of insane, drawing you higher with a single stroke than any toy has managed in years. The way your cunt clenches around him seems to drive Jungkook on even more as he pumps with precise motions, soon adding his ring finger, bringing you dangerously close to euphoria.

Jungkook’s free hand roams from your neck to your tits, back and forth, squeezing, mapping you out like he forgot how you felt like, though finally resting on your jaw as he nestles his head between your shoulder and neck, leaving soft love bites in his wake.

It’s when he picks up the pace, the base of his palm hitting your clit relentlessly with each thrust, that you come undone, your orgasm flooding over his hand as he continues, determined to not stop just yet. 

A muffled whine of your name slips from his lips, softer than you’ve ever heard, and while you long to hear him call your pet name like he used to, it only amplifies the fullness in your heart for him.

Jungkook keeps his fingers inside you, now scissoring them to stretch you further as you cling to his back, not caring if you leave angry marks. 

“Think you can take it?”

“Yes,” you mewl, not caring if you couldn’t. You’ll take him, you need him, need to feel as if none of those years apart ever happened.

Once again, you think he might finally kiss you, but instead, he leans in and presses a soft kiss to your damp forehead. You momentarily frown, but it’s forgotten the second his cock aligns with your still sobbing cunt, dragging up and down to coat his entire length and even his tight balls.

The sight of Jungkook when he finally pushes in is nothing short of mesmerising. He’s so perfectly sculpted, every muscle cord defined, and with his piercings and tattoo sleeve, he looks like a fantasy you never dared dreaming of. 

You’ve always had a weak spot for tattoos, but seeing them inked across Jungkook’s skin? That’s your ultimate downfall. A glorious downfall, as the burn of his thick length pushing deep inside you sends you reeling, until he’s so far in that you can’t tell where he starts and you end.

“Oh my god,” you choke out, overwhelmed by everything Jungkook is—and everything he’s become.

He’s unusually silent, though you barely notice, not when he begins to rock his hips, leisurely sliding his massive cock in and out, low grunts and moans escaping him as his gaze locks onto yours and not dares to stray. 

Jungkook leans back, increasing the intensity of his thrusts, sweat forming in small beads along the ridges of his chest and abs, dripping down despite the cold. His nipples are hard, and your mouth waters with the urge to suck on them. But seeing his own mouth slightly parted, breaths quickening in time with the rhythm of his hips, you’re sure he’s thinking the same, drawn to your own nipples, standing proud on the jiggling flesh of your chest. 

And while you wish you were the flicker of firelight dancing across his skin, you’re not far behind, as his hands find their way from your hips to your tits, caressing them like he always did, giving you everything and far more. You need something to ground yourself, a way to keep from shattering under the emotions running wild in your mind, intensified with every thrust Jungkook drives into your core. So, you grip his wrists, not to stop him, but to urge him on—to make him pinch harder.

Maybe you need the bite of it, maybe you want him to not just take away the ache, but be the reason you remember this night years from now.

“Jungkook, I’m so close, oh my god.”

The grunt that escapes him reverberates through you, nearly pushing you over the edge on its own, but he slows, setting a gentler pace as he shifts so his mouth can worship you from your breasts to your neck, leaving a trail of hickeys across your delicate skin.

You know the two of you will be marked by the end of the night, and right now, that’s all you want. You want to leave yourself etched into his skin, to reclaim your place not only in his heart but in every part of him.

In this moment, it’s like you’re finally whole—not just because Jungkook fills you completely, but because he completes you. He always has, and while you’ve both been damned by what happened before, it feels like redemption might be close.

“You’re…” Jungkook murmurs against your skin, his warm breath searing into you, though you need him to finish his sentence, need to hear it.

But as you cradle his head in your hands and he lifts his gaze to meet yours, his eyes are hooded, yet glistening, and your throat tightens at the sight too.

Face to face, you share the same breath, as if you share one heart, your small hands gripping his face as if you never want to let go, his hands cradling your small head with the tenderness that once meant everything. It’s as though you feel what he’s trying to say—but somehow, you don’t.

There’s still a wall between you, still something unsaid screaming in the silence that just can’t seem to go away, and you’re sure he feels it too. He feels it as your orgasm builds, feels it in the desperation of his own thrusts, in the matching, agonising, wordless ache in both your eyes, feels it when you both shatter together in a burst of all colours and stars in existence. 

And then, all that’s left is pain.

He hasn’t kissed you, and you didn’t kiss him either.

And as he pulls his now-softening length from your still-pulsing cunt and reaches for a tissue from his trousers off the floor to help you clean up, he silently gets dressed. 

Dresses as if he’s ashamed, dressed as if he regrets it, dressed as if you’re the worst thing that’s ever happened to him.

So you do the same, slipping into your clothes before lying back down, shifting as close to the wall as possible, facing away from him to give him some peace where none is found. 

The tears falling silently onto the pillow should only be from the shivering that’s returned, a byproduct of the cold that momentarily disappeared but is now back as if you were never meant to feel warm again.

Finally, exhaustion sweeps over you. Physically. Mentally. And everything in between. 

And as Jungkook lies down too, once more pulling you close and wrapping you in the warmth you crave more than you can bear to admit, your eyes fall shut almost effortlessly.

Maybe sleeping it all away will make it better, forgotten as a dream that never was.

Forgotten, like everything good that once was but now isn’t anymore.

Forgotten, like the tear you feel slide down the back of your neck, disappearing into the fabric of your shirt where all your sins and failures lie buried.

01 • 02 • masterlist • 04

a/n 3: lmk what you think in any way you like! 👀 If you liked what you read, pls consider buying me a ☕️ Ko-fi.com/runariya 💕

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Thief XVI

This was emotionally draining to write 😭

My Patreon [for early access to chapters and extra content]

Summary: The survivalists of a horror movie are always at the grossest disadvantage. The monster can see them, but they won’t see him until it’s too late.

Pairing: Yandere!Dabi x Psychologist!Reader.

Previous / Next

Warning: 18+, angst, burning, cheating, delusional thinking, hurt/comfort, budding mindbreak, mourning, trauma, victim-blaming, yandere behaviour.

Keep reading

polarity | 06 yandere! jungkook

pairing: yandere!jungkook x (f) reader

genre: yandere

warnings: 18+ , toxic relationships, unhealthy and obsessive behavior , mentions of mental health, manipulation, blackmail, cheating

word count: 21.k

summary: Your best friend’s new boyfriend becomes infatuated with you..

Playlist

Parts: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06

❄️CS | 03 JK

A/N: im delirious after editing this so if you see any error , please pretend you didn’t 🥴💕💕!!! ily <3

—-

The anticipating silence filled the room as you stared down the familiar face in front of you. You could hear a ringing in your ears, the anger in your body simmering down and being replaced with sheer panic. Suddenly your mind was now moving rapidly through every possible reason as to why Hoseok could be here. Had your text messages been read? Had there been a slip up on your part? Had you mentioned him to Jungkook? What did he know? How did he know? Did they know each other? Your feet shifted to the side and you took a step back.

For a moment it felt as if this was some sort of soap opera playing out in front of you and you were just a pathetic puppet being wired by her master. Jungkook was the deranged puppeteer in this circus and you were the biggest fool of them all.

You inched forward, instinctively wanting to tell Hoseok to get away from him. Just the thought of him near Jungkook made you nervous. Let alone watching him being sat so comfortably in his apartment.

“What are you doing here?” You asked in a breathless whisper, the clear shock evident on your entire physique.

Hoseok’s eyes shifted between you and Jungkook, tensing up at your question. He seemed not only confused but upset. Your eyes didn’t miss the soju bottle next to him. The sight left you even more than perplexed . Why was Jungkook seemingly having a casual drink with the same boy he had threatened before? How had he managed to lure him into the apartment in the first place? How was he here? The worst of thoughts began to emerge in your head.

“That’s a little rude, isn’t it?” Jungkook feigned innocence, leaning in to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear like he often did in endearment. However, in this particular moment nothing about it felt sweet or endearing. “Considering you’re the one who invited him over.”

What?

Your face scrunched up in complete astonishment. You slapped his hand away and put more space between the two of you.

“What are you talking about? I didn’t invite anyone.” Your voice wentup in pitch towards the end. “What’s going on?”

You look between the both of them, they shared a swift knowing glance at each other before Jungkook locked his gaze onto you again.

What was that?

Something was so off. Not only were you terribly confused but it felt familiar almost, terribly familiar. It didn’t feel as if you had walked in on a clear betrayal. It felt as if you had walked into some sick kind of inside joke. A set up meant to leave you in the dark. It didn’t felt like you were the one that deserved an explanation.

But you noticed one thing. Jungkook’s prying eyes poorly concealed something else in them. Seething jealousy. A shudder left you as you braced for what he was going to do. You’ve messed up horribly.

You felt Hoseok’s eyes on you now too, his expression changing into a frown as he studied you.

“I told you,” Jungkook spoke, his dark eyes didn’t stray from you but he was clearly addressing the other man in the room. “She was playing you.”

You snap your head back at Hoseok in shock at the words coming out of Jungkook’s mouth. You weren’t expecting them but they helped confirm your suspicions. The puzzle pieces were still scattered but you slowly began to watch them fit together as you took in everything in front of you.

This couldn’t be happening.

“What the hell are you talking about!” You shrieked out but immediately took a deep breath, feeling yourself start to lose control of the emotions overwhelming you. A need to reel yourself back in took over, a part of you afraid of triggering another panic attack that you couldn’t handle at the moment. You flared your arms up as you neared towards Hoseok who looked more upset by the second.

“You texted me.” Hoseok stated shaking his head at you. “You sent me this location and told me to come over, that you were ‘really needed me right now’.”

You stare at him, freezing in your steps as you rapidly shake your head in denial. What was he talking about? Had Jungkook taken your phone somehow without your knowledge? But how? He hadn’t asked you to unlock your phone the other day. You hadn’t texted Hoseok since yesterday, vaguely giving him a run down of your day. In fact, you had been texting him far less these days as you were determined to still let him down gently. You figured it was working. Which is why you couldn’t believe your eyes at him being here. You would never tell him to meet you anywhere. Not with Jungkook’s inquisitive nature that you had barely escaped earlier. Let alone lead him right into a lion’s den.

“No, no.” You explained, pointing towards Jungkook. “He must’ve contacted you somehow, I never texted you! I don’t understand what the fuck is going on but I never texted you that!”

This was ridiculous. You gripped your bag and slung it off your shoulder. You began to search for your phone, eagerly needing to provide proof of this insane claim but Hoseok continued his accusation.

“You told me you broke up with him yet you led me directly to your very much still boyfriend’s place.” He continued you with a scoff. “The text came from your contact. What the hell are you doing? Why lie about something like that? Is this a sick game or some shit?”

The text came from you.

That was literally impossible. Jungkook didn’t know your passcode.

Did he?

Even if he did, you would’ve noticed he went through it. Wouldn’t you? You didn’t recall leaving your phone unattended. Or did you? The days here didn’t even feel real, you were struggling to recall much of anything right now. But most of all, you didn’t like the guilt you felt at the thought of Jungkook going through your phone. You should be angry and you were but another part of you also felt ashamed. It felt exactly like what you had felt that morning he confronted you about your phone and how you had thought you fooled him successfully for once.

The walls were closing in on you as you finally found your phone. Your fingers shook while tapping against the screen.

“She lied.” Jungkook chimed in. From the corner of your eye you could see him still observing you as he walked right over to the island. “She does this whenever we have a fight, she just wants attention.”

No.

No.

No.

You swallowed, your eyes stinging with newfound tears as you opened your texts, easily finding Hoseok’s contact that you placed under a girl’s name. Your closed your eyes tightly, letting out a silent curse. You were right there was no texts of you sending a message to meet up, your screen just showed the many texts of you casually talking and politely declining to meet up with him. But it was then you realized your mistake.

These messages didn’t rid you of any guilt. They only dug your grave further.

You had been deceptive. Not with malicious intent but you had been nonetheless. You had lied to not only Hoseok, but to Jungkook.The latter unsurprisingly filled you with much more dread. No matter which way you looked at it, this looked exactly how he intended it to look like. The story of an unfaithful lover that had been caught red handed with another man by her husband.

Jungkook fit the part with ease with the way his demeanor promised silence before the storm. The forced coolness in his tone was hiding a beast beneath it. You suppose you fit the part too by how dry your mouth had gotten. You found yourself suddenly not wanting to meet his scrutinizing gaze. You went behind his back, didn’t you? You lay in his bed every night, ate his food, enjoyed his luxurious and in return you sneak around. Did you not deserve his wrath? Perhaps you deserved much more.

Another skipped heartbeat.

What was wrong with you? The rational side of you was slipping away little by little. It knew well that this wasn’t your fault but your feelings were fighting strongly against all rationality. If it wasn’t your fault then why were you hesitating to show them your phone? If you were so innocent then why did you feel so dirty? You gripped your phone painfully tight officially panicking as you delayed to turn it over like you were so eagerly planning on doing a moment ago. How could you be so idiotic? Why didn’t you delete these texts? Why didn’t you block him all together? You’ve not only screwed yourself over but you’ve taken Hoseok down with you.

Jungkook seemed to notice your struggle, his mask slightly slipping.

“ What’s the matter, baby?” The corner of his mouth quirked up slightly. “Show your proof.”

He practically spit out the last word, twisted amusement taking over his gaze. You felt your lips tremble as you tried your hardest to swallow down a sob.

“Jungkook.” You pleaded with wide eyes. “Please, why are you doing this?”

His expression sharpened at that. Instead of taking pity in you, like you foolishly assumed he might, he glared daggers at you. His weakness seemed to be seeing you break and seeing you break down in tears. As sick as it was he did once tell you he hated to see you cry and you cling to that slither of hope that would appeal to his more softhearted side. But of course you should’ve known better than to trust you had Jungkook figured out in the slightest.

“Me?” He asked you incredulously, his mask fully falling now as you saw his eyes flash with a familiar type of hurt you had seen in them before. The same type of hurt when you had yelled at him that you would never love him. You took yet another cautious step back, surprised at how much the look seemed to leave you completely chilled this time. You didn’t remember feeling this breathless last time you had caused it.

“How do you have the audacity to say that to me.” He sneered at you and one stride towards you had him closing most of the space you’d been creating between you. “How about you turn over the phone screen and show me how much you’ve been lying to my face?”

Another step.

“How about you tell me exactly where you’ve been all day.”

Another skipped heartbeat.

He knew where’d you been.

“No.” You continued to shake your head and turned your frantic gaze towards the other poor man in the room.

“Hoseok, you need to listen to me. This isn’t what it looks like, he’s doing this on purpose to-"

Jungkook’s cruel laugh cut you off, he ran a hand through his dark locks in disbelief. You watched in horror as he played the betrayed boyfriend role so convincingly because he genuinely did feel like you betrayed him. You felt your chest ache at the sight. Why did it ache? Why did it hurt to see him like this? Not only had you not even sent that message to Hoseok but you didn’t owe Jungkook any sense of loyalty. You didn’t owe him anything.

But the broken look in the large doe eyes that you had spent every night looking into since you got here made you feel like you owed him the world. You saw the corner of his lip twitch as he tried to blink away his glossy stare.

“It’s exactly what it looks like.” Jungkook stated with determination. So sure of himself. He tilted his head to the side, turning to Hoseok. “Did you know what she had just finished doing just before she received your adorable first text?”

You stiffen at his implication and at the way he comes up behind you. His breath tickles your ear as his fingers come to brush your hair out of your face and wraps his other arm around your waist. You let out a small gasp. The hand on your hair slowly runs down the back of your neck and inner shoulder. The cold sensation of his rings making you involuntarily shiver.

“Or rather who she was doing.” Before you can react, he pulls you further into him and places a kiss on the top of your head. “You have no idea how pretty she looks on top of me.”

Your jaw hung at his awful crude words and you harshly pull yourself away from him, quickly putting back the previous distance in between you. Your face felt like it was on fire. You had nearly forgotten the undeniable mean streak Jungkook possessed. It had been easy to pretend it had never existed with how sweetly he had treated you all this time you’ve shared his space and his bed. How quickly had you forgotten the many sides of him, the ugly sides that came out when things didn’t go his way and when his doll had overstepped her restraints.

But it was obvious that this was more than Jungkook being cruel, he was making a point. Staking his claim.

“Stop it! What’s wrong with you?” You didn’t need to even look towards Hoseok’s direction to know how incredibly uncomfortable he was. It was clear in the way he cleared his throat and went to stand up.

“There wasn’t a need for all of this, I would’ve never asked you out if I’d known you two had just been on some kind of break.”

“We never broke up, she just loves making me jealous whenever we have ….disagreements.” Jungkook replied for you with a smirk spreading on his lips that reminded you of a devious child.

You were breathing heavily now, struggling to ground yourself as you felt the awful dread start traveling through you once again. It was triggered and you couldn’t do anything to stop it now. You had mere seconds left before your mind was burdened by sheer panic.

“She was just using you, unfortunately you were the perfect bait.” Jungkook raised an eyebrow at you. You watched nervously as he walked back over to the counter and leaned on it, directly facing Hoseok. You could practically hear his grin. “You need to realize how girls work, you seem a bit inexperienced .“

Your phone dropped with a loud ‘clank’ but the two men didn’t seem to even notice it. It may have looked like you simply threw it to onto the floor in rage but your hands hand not stopped shaking. You felt the hideous need to run your nails down your arms and face . It was taking great effort not to do so, you opted for running them down frantically through your hair instead. He was turning the tables completely and successfully. He was playing this off as a typical unsteady relationship where he made you look like the dramatic girlfriend who was simply acting out when there was trouble in paradise.

Hoseok let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head as he stood up from his seat. He seemed to be completely over it.

“Whatever, you need to tell your crazy girlfrie-"

“You need to learn to take threats more seriously. I told you to stay away from her .” You heard Jungkook cut him off with now a much less neutral tone. All casualness gone. You didn’t need to look at him to know why the air seemed heavier now, you wanted to tell Hoseok to be quiet and not poke him further but you could barely focus your spiraling mind on anything other than the feeling of your chest tightening.

“Listen, I didn’t think it was all that serious. She never actually told me she had a boyfriend. You can’t blame me for not knowing right?” There was a slight defensiveness to how Hoseok said it and you couldn’t help but feel bad. He’d been blindsided completely. When he spared a glance at you his face scrunched up in seeming concern at your worsening state of panic.

“Right.” Jungkook nodded. His grin still present but it faltered a little when he noticed Hoseok’s gaze on you.

“Hoseok, please listen to me. I-I did lie but it wasn’t because of what he’s saying. I wasn’t playing with you. At first I was trying to-” A frustrated sigh left you as you tried to figure out how to explain yourself. You couldn’t tell him the complete truth, not in front of Jungkook. His menacing blackmail still hovered over you like your own personal grey cloud.

“To let you down easily.” You cringed at your confession. It sounded much worse saying it out loud and you saw Jungkook raising both his eyebrows in mocking manner. You glared at the realization that hit you.

He knew you wouldn’t able to explain yourself. That’s why he brought Hoseok here. He wanted to see you cower and admit your mistake in front of him with no way out. Perhaps he even knew he’d trigger your anxiety by doing so. He’s managed to gather every key that unlocked your weaknesses.

Hoseok clenched his jaw, his lips set in a straight line. He looked like he couldn’t wait to sprint out the door. You knew you’d find no help in him or hope he’d see through Jungkook’s manipulation anymore. Now he was convinced you’ve dragged him into some unnecessary relationship drama.

“How considerate of you, baby.” Jungkook continued his taunting but you heard his true displeasure beneath it. He turned his attention back to Hoseok and circled the other side of the island where he sat.

The apartment was starting to feel much smaller than you recalled.

“So now that we cleared that up and there’s no room for pesky excuses . I would very much like you to stay the fuck out of my relationship. “

You flinched at the venom in his tone. The rage he’d been burying coming to the surface and poured itself all over the last sentence.

Seeing just how close Jungkook had gotten to him wasn’t helping your growing panic. He was taller than Hoseok but that wasn’t what was intimidating about him. It was his entire demeanor sending off such drastic mixed signals .There was nothing worse than not knowing how to predict an opponent in the slightest.

Jungkook placed a rough hand on Hoseok’s shoulder.

You swore your heart stopped.

“And I suggest you start by blocking my girlfriend’s number from your phone and forget she ever existed to you.” He leaned into Hoseok’s ear, his eyes tracing back to you as that mean lazy smile remained on his lips. From the outside it seemed like the typical comrade bro hug, almost friendly in manner. Two good-looking college boys sharing some type of gossip.

“I’d hate to show you what a name like mine can do to a nobody like you.” If he had meant to whisper it then he failed terribly because you had heard his threat perfectly. “Money talks a lot around here, I’m sure you know that. I could make you lose everything you’ve worked for or come very close to it. You won’t get a second warning.”

There was a few seconds of silence. Or minutes. You really couldn’t tell.

“I get it, I swear I don’t want any problems.” Hoseok replied sounding more peeved than shaken by your insane ‘boyfriend’s’ words. He probably assumed he was just another entitled rich boy who was throwing around empty threats because his ego was hurt.

He’d be half right but there was a lot more wrong with Jungkook than his spoilt attitude and those threats were not as empty as he thought.

Jungkook stared at him for a long moment, whether to take in his words or perhaps looking for an indication of a lie you weren’t sure but once he seemed satisfied he gave him a slow nod.

“Good.” He finally took a step away from him and grabbed the soju bottle next to him, shoving it into Hoseok’s chest. “Need me to call for an Uber? I heard bus fares are quite high nowadays.”

Hoseok’s face flushed but you were certain it wasn’t due to the alcohol.

“I can walk.” He grumbled as he began to walk towards the front door.

“Suit yourself.” Jungkook flashed him another smile, this time displaying his perfect teeth. It was an uncanny sight.

You hated yourself for not even managing to get a another word out, too engrossed in your own doomsday. The fleeing sensation of humiliation didn’t have room to properly settle, overridden by much more powerful emotions that never shared their home in your tortured mind. The nails were now starting to dig into your arms, you barely felt Hoseok walk past but you for sure didn’t miss l the last nasty glance he sent your way before the sound of the door slamming shut echoed through the room.

An immediate sob left your lips, your knees slowly gave out and you let yourself fall against the cold ceramic tiles. You lifted your head up slightly, watching the man in front of you with tears pooling your vision. He had never not been quick to comfort you during your attacks but this time he simply stood there with no intention of running to comfort you. Instead he let out a sigh, his eyes remained on the door with an odd look on his face. For a moment, it seemed like he was holding back a sob himself. His eyes shifting to the corner of the room before over to you. He bit his bottom lip harshly as he ran a hand over his face.

“Why the tears baby? You caused this.” He muffled into his own hands, turning his back to you. You watched his long legs paced back and forth between the small space of where you lay. Watching him run his fingers run over his now messy hair.

You continued to sob quietly, breaths growing more shallow. How could he say that to you? You had caused this?

“Get up. We need to get you into a cold shower if you want to feel better.” You heard him order as he struggled to contain a steady tone. He turned around, placing a hand on the marble counter and leaning his weight on it causing his muscles to flex underneath his thin t-shirt. His bottom lip was now swollen and red. Eyes puffy and distraught.

It was so unfair. All of it.

“You hacked my phone, didn’t you? Because I didn’t send that text to Hoseok and how else would you have known….where I was.” You muttered the last part mostly to yourself, the idea becoming more of a fact than a theory. You had assumed he had simply followed you but if he had gone as far as hacking your phone then he surely would’ve used it to track your location.

There was no way he had followed you either, the timing wouldn’t have made much sense and you were certain you would’ve spotted his car at some point considering how careful you had been the entire commute there.

You jump suddenly at the sound of his hand slamming down harshly on the counter.

“No shit.” Jungkook spit out and you draw back. The abrupt action caught you off guard. You had never witnessed him physically express his anger before.

“Now.get.up.” He repeated. “I can’t help you if you’re sobbing on the floor.”

“I don’t want anything from you!” You shouted back, sending him the most hateful look you could muster. He blinked, eyebrows furrowing as still he refused to look your way but you swore you saw a flash of regret on his face.

He took a deep breath and regained most of his composure. His jaw clenched.

“What did you expect? Did you really think I wouldn’t find out? There will be no secrets between us. I won’t allow it.”

Well, wasn’t that just rich coming from him.

“No secrets? I-I know what you did.” You accused in between sobs, your hands planted firmly on the floor as you shifted your body weight towards your right leg that left you in an awkward sitting position. It was hard to ignore the chills running down your entire body, your mind struggled to focus on what you wanted to scream at him.

He turned his head to look down at you. His penetrating gaze meeting yours at last.

“I know that you were the one that made my professor accuse me of plagiarism.” You said after another intake of breath. “ You did it, didn’t you? You blackmailed him! Just like you did to me. Just like you do to everyone in order to get your way. I don’t know with what but you did.”

He was silent. Just quietly looking at you.

Your short breaths only quickened, the horrible feeling coming in waves, stopping then gaining more force. You felt like you were stuck in a mid fall. It felt like years passed before Jungkook slowly made his way over to you, your eyes traced over the slight twitch of his fingers and cubic steel bracelet around his wrist. He bent down to your level and you felt his fingers lifting your chin up at him. You knew he could feel you shaking because he angled your face towards him again when you tried to look off to the side, his set gaze halting your rapid eye movements.

“Seems like a little birdie has been talking.” He whispered to you, he almost sounded disappointed. “That just won’t do, baby.”

You felt the sudden urge to slap him but you went to push him away instead. He caught your arms before you could do so, pushing them towards his chest and pulling your whole body closer to him. His actions were rough and careless. An indicator of just how much you’ve pissed him off this time. You could feel your teeth chattering now, your panic attack reaching its peak as you felt your vision blur. It was as if someone had poured a bucket of ice all over you except you wished someone actually had just to rid you of this feeling.

“You know she’s right, you know I’m right. That’s why you’re so upset.” You went on as you squirmed in his hold.

“How easily you’ve forgotten what she’s done to you. Is it that easy to fool you, baby? Does that bitch really have such a tight hold on you still that you that you accept her words as truth without question?” He sounded a parent scolding a small foolish child over taking sweets from a stranger.

He was wrong. Your once all-consuming love for Eunji had turned into a grudge that you couldn’t shake off. She might’ve been a horrible friend but why would she lie about something like that? It seemed too specific. It seemed like she knew more than she was willing to admit and for some reason that only angered you more. She knew more yet she had given you crumbs in return. Was that the plan all along or was she making you a victim of her selfish bitterness again? Even after everything, it was hard for you to believe she hated you that much.

Because you had seen it. You had seen a fragment of sincerity in her eyes earlier. A small piece of pity, no matter how fleeing.

“Ask your little boyfriend what he was doing walking into Professor Clark’s classroom a few weeks ago.”

You swore you had heard it in her voice too. As if she had been doing you one last favor. Granting you one last bit of kindness for all those years spent together being thrown away. But the more you ponder over it, the more Jungkook’s planted seed of doubt began to grow its roots. Had you only seen what you had hoped to?

“You accuse me of lying to you over some gossip your little fake friend filled your head with? It didn’t take long for you to go running back into her arms, did it? Where is your pride?” The disgust in his voice would be hard to fake and you had to look away from the sheer sincerity in it.

“I didn’t run back to her! I wanted answers and-"

“And did you find them?” He cut you off, eyes searching your face like something in it had already granted him the answer. “No, of course you didn’t baby. You let her have the last laugh again.”

Again

“How would she know to make that connection and why would she lie about her seeing you walk into our professor’s classroom weeks ago.” You hissed back at him eagerly grasping to take control of the conversation that he had so easily overpowered in seconds.

God, you really couldn’t breathe.

“Do you hear yourself? You’re asking me why a girl that has been jealous and spiteful towards you for years would try and scheme against you for sleeping with her ex-boyfriend! ” Jungkook sneered back and you flinched at the sudden raise of volume in his voice.

“Lying comes as easily as breathing to some. Haven’t you learned that by now? You really are more naive than I thought if you have yet to realize how unkind this world is and how often people like you get trampled over.”

You let out another quivering sob, growing more and more upset by his words. You might be naive but you weren’t that naive to not realize that he wasn’t the one who should be saying this to you. Him of all people. It felt like a stab in the chest. Jungkook lets go of your arms and brings them to cradle your face in his hands instead. His thumbs wiping away your never ending tears. His action is meant to be gentle but his grip is so tight that you feel his nails digging slightly into your skin.

“I’ve only ever tried to protect you, baby. Protect you from her and from yourself.” His hot breath sent waves of shock through you, you felt his lips lightly graze your own. “How many times must I save you from her? And from everyone who has ill intentions towards you before you realize it’s only ever going to be me.”

He lifted one hand from your cheek to carress your hair, those glossy doe eyes pulling you in and tugging at the invisible strings on your limbs and heart.

“How many times must I prove my love to you?”

This wasn’t love. It couldn’t be.

It felt like something much stronger. Much too different. Your love for Eunji had never felt this overwhelming. It never felt like you were being lulled to a perfect sleep, just to be suddenly plunged into a free fall. This didn’t feel anything like a secret held close to your chest, your heart skipping a beat everytime you used to see her even when you’d already seen her three times before that day. How giddy you felt at her accidental touches. How much you seemed to please her and never wanted to see her in pain. How easily it came to you to want to fix all her minor inconveniences.

No, this felt nothing like that. It wasn’t a secret. It didn’t allow itself to be. It was too loud. Too ugly. Whatever you had felt for Eunji, it felt five times more heightened with Jungkook. His presence felt like too much yet like there was never enough of it to actually violate you. It fit you in a way you were so frightened to admit. He had taken a piece of you that you never agreed on giving him. Yet it was that very foreign feeling that had you craving him in moments you shouldn’t have. In nearly all hours of a day. You were frightened at what you had been feeling these past two weeks sharing his space. Completely terrified at what he had managed to make you feel for him in such little time.

Even now, he felt so familiar yet so untouchable.

“This isn’t love.” You replied back in a broken whisper. It was mistake and you realized it quickly but it was too late to take it back. You blamed your overly emotional state for the thoughtless response.

A few beats of silence passed with only your uneven breaths filling the room. Jungkook continued to caress your hair before the corners of his lips twitched. An almost sad small appearing on them.

“Fine.” Another few beats of silence. The heavy air lingered.

You licked your dry lips as he retrieved his hand completely from you. Your eyes tracked the movement before they landed on the unreadable look on his face.

“ If you think I’m such a monster, I promise I will show you how easily I can make that come true for you. ” He stated lowly, dark eyes taking in your features again. “And it will make everything else I’ve done pale in comparison.”

His words sink in.

You hadn’t wanted that all and you don’t think you’ve ever heard him sound so disturbed. It rattled you to the core. You jumped forward to try and salvage what was left of the ruin you may have caused yourself and others.

“Jungkook n-no. I don’t want that. I don’t think that of you.” Breathlessly you pleaded with him. Not even a minute ago you wanted to rid yourself of his touch on you and now you were bringing your own hands to his face. The roles reversing with haste.

“But you just said it, baby. You don’t think this is love.” His sharp look was not budging. “What choice do you leave me if you won’t even believe my feelings for you after everything I’ve done? I’ll have to make you see it, one way or another.”

One way or another. That could mean so many things for someone like him and you didn’t want to find out which method he’d try out first.

“I-I do believe them. I don’t know why I said that.”

“Don’t lie to me.” He said with a disillusioned look and clasped your wrists. “For the third time tonight.”

Your fingers run down his cheeks as you as you near your face to his again.

“I’m not! I’m sorry. I’m sorry but please don’t do anything. I’m begging you, please.” It was pathetic . You were pathetic but you suppose you had already lost your dignity a long time ago. There wasn’t much else to lose and you weren’t sure you’d ever manage to have a spine when it came to the boy in front of you.

He eyed you.

“What it is it that you’re so afraid I’ll do?” He muttered, his breath once again warm against your lips.

You frowned. It was a trick question, wasn’t it? Was he genuinely asking you?

“I just don’t want you to hurt anyone.” You stressed, your fingers trembled terribly against his cheeks.

You felt his thumbs brushing the inside of your wrists in a circular motion gently. The soft action wasn’t to fully soothe you but it did distract you for split second.

“Anyone?” Jungkook asked lowly. It stumped you a bit. You tried to find some clarity in his fixed look but it didn’t display much of anything. In fact, you swore his eyes were inviting you to some sort of challenge.

So you simply nodded in response.

“Hm.” He hummed, his upper lip lifting slightly before he nodded back.

Was he agreeing with you?

You let out the smallest sigh of relief. It probably looked pained.

His hands then fully clasped your wrists and he stood up without warning. The force of it dragged you up with him due to his locked grip. He tugged you against him as he made his way down the hallway. You kept quiet, already starting to feel your body weight itself down like it usually did when your panic attack lost its strength. The numbness traveled through your every muscle. Jungkook had released your wrists and instead guided you by the shoulder with your body remaining pressed into his chest.

He opened the bedroom door and guided you towards the bathroom. The unease in your stomach had not left but it was easier to ignore with how heavy your eyelids felt. You felt him suddenly leave your side and brush past you to go turn on the shower. You caught a glimpse of yourself on the large mirror above the black vanity sink . The teary gaze and snot dripping from your nose. Your wet cheeks and swollen eyes. Your gaze accidentally caught sight of Jungkook while he slid open the shower door. His stare was hollow.

A look you don’t remember ever seeing on him before.

You looked away, unsure of what to make of it. When he approached you again, you didn’t protest as he stripped you both down. Once in the shower, you kept your back to him and fully faced the shower head that washed away any lingering nerves. You couldn’t help but zoom in on the ombré ceramic tile design in front of you as your mind drifted off again. Jungkook’s hands massaged your shoulders gently as he ran the loofa down your back. The act was intimate and normal. But your thoughts didn’t let you rest for the remainder of the night. Not even when you were both in bed, tucked under the soft warm sheets. Not even when he cuddled beside you, rubbing your back continuously and you listened his steady breathing.

The normalcy of it all didn’t break your trance because you were still thinking of the look Jungkook had given you. The daring glint in his eyes masking the seething nature. The vacant look you caught of him in the mirror.

Something wasn’t right.

—

It was ache in your shoulders that woke you.The soft gel pillow underneath your cheek felt wet and you inwardly cursed and wiped your mouth.You thought you had dropped drooling months ago. You had yet to open your eyes, wanting to stay this oblivious and at peace before a certain reality hit you. It took a few seconds for the disorientation to fade away as you slowly blinked up at the familiar white ceiling with the recessed lighting now completely shut off due to the natural sunlight illuminating the space.

You lifted your head and let out a soft groan at the stiffness in your muscles.

It was quiet.

The memories of last night came flooding back in rapidly and your stomach churned at them. You pushed them away as much as you could. If only it had been a nightmare. How much you wished it had never happened and how much you wished you hadn’t walked out the door yesterday. At this point, you weren’t sure if you cared about if what Eunji had said was true or not. If anything, it had left you even more puzzled about everything. Both of them had played you in one way or another. It seemed like they were taking turns, tugging on each of your arms in complete opposite directions.

You craned your neck and looked around the empty room. Jungkook wasn’t in bed but he usually wasn’t, he had made it a habit to cook breakfast before you woke.

Flinging your feet to the side , you climbed off the bed and made your way out the door and into the hallway. You could smell coffee and hear shuffling. When you made into the living room you came to a halt upon seeing Jungkook in the kitchen like you expected. He seemed to be chopping something on the cutting board, a tomato maybe.

“Morning, baby.” He greeted you with a warm smile when he noticed you. He was dressed in casual pajama pants with an oversized black t-shirt. His hair was messy, clearly he’d not bothered to touch it yet but it made him look more endearing.

“Morning.” You reply with a small smile of your own despite the shake in your voice. He was acting like nothing had happened and you didn’t know if you should feel immense relief at that or not. It didn’t feel natural but you could very well be making something out of nothing. As you approach him though, your eyeline shifts to the floor and instantly a realization hits you.

Your eyebrows knit together as your eyes search the ground and walk towards the same spot you were last night.

“What it is it?” Jungkook asks when you fail to find what you’re looking for. You glance up at him, his curious gaze had followed yours to the floor.

“M-My phone. I dropped it last night. Did you see it?”

“Oh that.” He returns to pouring orange juice into a glass, the eggs on the stove sizzling behind him. “ I have it.”

You blink in confusion but try to conceal it.

“Oh.” You swallow. “Can you give it to me?”

Jungkook meets your gaze and slides over the glass of orange juice to you. You thank him quietly before taking a seat on the tall stool of the island.

“And why would I do that?” Your in the midst of taking a sip of the juice when he says it so you snort a little into the glass, assuming he’s joking for a split second.

But you notice the raise of his eyebrow, eyeing your movements as he awaits your response.

Tensing, you put the glass down and frown.

“Um,” You don’t even know what to say. “Well, because I need it.”

It came out more so like a question when you had intended it to sound like a firm reply. Jungkook notices your poor attempt as well, a smirk threatening to spread his lips.

“For what? To text another library boy?” He placed both his hands on the counter, leaning foward. He wasn’t that close but you fought the urge to lean back. His eyes narrowed into slits as bit the inside of his cheek.

His words make your mouth dry despite the juice you had just taken a sip of. Apparently the disturbed thoughts that had haunted you all night might’ve had some validity.

Yet this didn’t shock you any less.

But what did you think was going to happen? You had ignored all the warnings. Jungkook’s jealous side was something you never wanted to witness again and you had feeling you were only scratching the surface.

“Jungkook, I didn’t do anything. I was only trying to let him off easily. I-I wasn’t looking for anything else. I already explained this last night . I felt bad for what you had threatened him with when we weren’t even together.” It wasn’t a lie but you knew it didn’t matter by the way his expression didn’t budge one bit. Whatever innocent crush you had felt for Hoseok was long gone. Not only due to the sheer embarrassment that had occurred that no doubt had left him with the worst impression of you but you were not willing to put him in Jungkook’s radar again. You deeply regretted ever texting him at all.

It was too late to try to explain anything to Hoseok anyway. Even if you ever got him alone again you were sure he’d run the opposite direction at just your mere sight. He probably thought you were crazy.

This was crazy.

“I’m confused.” Jungkook’s scrutinizing gaze trapped you in place. “You said you didn’t want me to hurt anyone.”

“I-what?”

“You said you didn’t want me to hurt anyone.” He repeats lowly.

“I-I don’t-”

“Good. And I won’t as long as you stay in line.” He shrugs as if he’s discussing the weather and not the confiscation of your phone.

“But I need my phone, I need to text my parents.”

“I already did. They’re fine.” He gives you a tight-lipped smile but you could see how much he was trying to control the rage that traveled through him. The tightness of his grip on the edges of his counter, the veins on his hands and arms popping out slightly.

“Those petty excuses won’t work on me. You can only blame yourself as to why I don’t trust you anymore baby.” His eyes trailed down you. “Did you really think I’d be okay with you texting other men or anyone who shows interest in you for that matter?”

You looked away from him.

“No! That’s not what it was like.” You sputtered, feeling that sense of guilt invade you once again.

You heard him scoff.

“Have I been too nice, baby? I have, haven’t I? Because I don’t know what gave the impression that you could ever run back to that bitch or flirt with others to ‘let them down easy’ and think I would sit back and watch like your little lap dog.”

You watched his controlled breathing, afraid to make the slightest move that could set him off.

Deciding not to reply , you simply watched him and hoped he’d gather himself but your silence seemed to only edge him further because he pulled a hand away from the counter and reached over to take your glass away. You saw him twirl it around in his hand, your gaze fully lifting to meet his due to the unexpected action and he glared at you as he took a sip from it.

“Did you know he had a sister? Your little library boy.” He clarifies as he swallows, setting the glass back down. “She just got married. Would be a shame if a pair of newly weds suffered an unfortunate accident…or any other type of terrible luck.”

You were completely floored by his words. A full body chill running through you. You wished you had heard him wrong but the way he studied you expectedly made it all too real.

Were you that surprised though? How could you be? It wasn’t the first time Jungkook had made these sort of malicious threats. It was the very thing he had done when he had gotten you alone for the first time. There was no limits for the wealthy and well-read.

What really struck you was how and why he would go as far to involve completely innocent people that had no connection to either of you and exactly how long he had known about this? Had he accessed your private texts recently or had known of them for a while now? If it was the latter that would mean he has deliberately let you text Hoseok up until yesterday. Why had he waited that long? Why didn’t he confront you about it immediately?

Given your frantic state last night, you hadn’t even thought about the possibility. You had thought his actions were impulsive and reckless, that he had find out about the texts when he had tracked your location. But that didn’t make sense , did it? Because then why did Jungkook already know so much about Hoseok’s family? It was unlikely for even him to acquire this type of information overnight . Your stomach sunk at the knowledge that you really had underestimated Jungkook again. Because this suddenly didn’t seem like a simple impulsive act of jealousy. It seemed much more calculating

“Leave them alone, Jungkook. Please don’t involve anyone else into this. I’m begging you.” You spoke gently despite the mounting fear of upsetting him with one wrong word.

“I didn’t involve anyone , baby. You did.” He replied just as gently. It felt demeaning but the side of you that had began to cater to him thought he might’ve had a point.

“Okay.” You nodded. “Okay I did, I’m sorry. You don’t have to worry about it. You told him to block me, there’s nothing to worry about.”

He pushed himself away fully from the counter and came up beside you. He gave you back your glass of juice. He seemed much taller from this sitting angle and you watched him carefully as he played with your necklace. His necklace.

“You’ll have plenty of time to show me just how sorry you are, baby.” He mumbled to you as if he was granting you a token of consideration. Running his hands across the butterfly pendant.

“Because I’ve also withdrawn your college transfer. It really did pain me to do, I don’t like seeing you upset.” You looked up at him wide eyed and tried to process what he was saying.”But it pains me even more that you were so willing to discard me and what I felt after all I’ve done is love you.”

That rage was brewing behind his dark eyes. You realize now that it had never left, only fooled you into thinking he would bend to your will.

Discard him? What was he talking about? There was more than just insecurity behind those words. You could see the clear trigger in his entire demeanor. It was as if he was hell-bent on punishing you for something you never did.

“J-Jungkook please, I have classes I need to finish . I can’t drop out. My parents, they will-”

“Shhh, it’s temporary.” He halts your rambling with with a squeeze to your shoulder. “I can get a word in to enroll you next semester or whenever I see fit.”

That didn’t make you feel better but held back any protests.

“It’s all up to you really. It’s up you to show me when I can trust you again.” He leaned down to give you a kiss on the top of your head before brushing past you and walking back over towards the opposite side again.

“Now let’s eat, I made your favorite. I hope you like it.”

You watch him turn off the stove and you were a little surprised not anything was burnt. You let him plate the breakfast without uttering a word because all that was running through your head was how stupid you were for ever letting him take care of the transfer. You had paid a much bigger price than you thought. Jungkook was no longer satisfied enough knowing he had your body and compliance. He wanted every bit of you.

Because you suspected what had truly scared him last night.

The thought of someone else taking your mind and heart away from what he thought was already his. For what he worked so hard for. He didn’t want to share any side of you. He was frightened of what threat Hoseok and Eunji had both posed against him. He had you physically but it was breaking him inside that he didn’t have you fully yet. Mind and soul.

That was it, wasn’t it?

He wanted to frighten you and push the limits. Show a new face. A new side. Because nobody really could save you from him except himself.

He was going to show you what a mistake you made not choosing the correct mask.

—

As the weeks had gone by, you had grown more disillusioned with the hope of returning to college.

During the first week, Jungkook had not seem to be wavering on his decision no matter how much you had indirectly pleaded with him. It had been made clear that you wouldn’t get far with your methods to suck up to him in the way you had.

While he welcomed your touch and over enthusiastic displays of affection, he had only been entertaining the idea of it. It had reminded you of the time he’d seen right through your performance at the cafe but unlike then, this time he had not stopped or called you out right away.

He watched how far you’d go.

And you had gone far.

By the second week you had begin to simply cater to his every need. Waking up to cook breakfast for him instead for a change, not bothering him while he worked in his office and also cooking dinner. Then you moved on to displaying more physical attention, initiating kisses and prolonging hugs despite your racing heartbeat at the closeness. You surprisingly grew so used to it that it almost began to do on instinct. Due to spacing it out through the weeks, you had thought you’d made progress .

It was not too much all at once like your previous mistake.

Your feelings were also not entirely fabricated this time which made it more dangerous. Your attachment to Jungkook had been growing as a result of the isolation he had caused you. It had already been the case before the incident and now it only grew stronger despite your efforts to keep a level head.

But you had grown desperate when the pressuring reality hit you each night of what your parents would think of you slacking off and what it could mean to not have any future planned out. To have wasted all their efforts and money just for a stupid mistake on your part. You had not been able to even access your bank account since you had been left with no phone and you had not dared ask to burrow Jungkook’s MacBook yet in order to not draw any unnecessary attention.

You thought you could gain it all back and that you had not just tried hard enough.

However, the incident that occurred the very night you exhausted your last efforts had been a horrid and rookie mistake. It was your first and only strike up until now and the memory served as a reminder to not tread in murky waters.

~~

You waited for Jungkook’s reaction as he took the first bite. Gripping your own chopsticks tightly, you eyed the meal you had spent nearly two hours preparing, making sure you had perfected it to his liking. He nodded immediately, his doe eyes twinkling.

“It’s amazing baby.” He said in between bites, eyebrows scrunched together. “Really amazing.”

A soft sigh of relief leaves you, a smile spreading your lips.

“I was nervous, I’ve never cooked this before.” You explained, licking your lips. “I’m not much a cook though, my mom used to complain about it when I was younger.”

Jungkook hummed in response as he took another bite.

“My dad used to bake with me often though. I think I’m better at that.” The casual comment was meant to invoke the memory of the Christmas you spent with him but you aren’t sure if you succeed because his eyes drift over to center of the table.

“Are you wearing the perfume I gave you?” He asks, pulling you away from your focused script.

“Huh?” You ask then nod. “Oh y-yeah. I love it.”

He had given you a new perfume as a gift a few days ago. It was a pleasant warm rose and musk smell. The gesture came seemingly out of nowhere but the more optimistic side of you thought it maybe was due to him feeling guilty for leaving you alone here the few times he went to his father’s company for work. It would only be a couple of hours but hours felt like days when there was nothing but yourself to keep you sane.

He had not physically locked you in here. Not that you think he could anyway. But he had other ways of keeping you here, the key card he had previously let you borrow had now been revoked. He carried it with him at all times and if there was a spare one, you had not found it yet. Of course, you could physically leave and walk out but with no key, you would be forced to hang around the lobby until he came back. You were also not that dumb to try and venture off without your phone. It created too many obstacles in your head, you could get lost or something could happen to you and you wouldn’t be able to call for help. He must’ve of known that well and now that you thought it over, that was likely his main goal despite the jealousy tantrum he had tried to sell you.

Not that the jealousy had been act. You’d seen the vicious green-eyed monster take over him.

But admittedly Jungkook had already hacked your phone before. There was nothing stopping him from doing it again. Taking away your phone was a way of keeping tabs on you in another way. You felt stupid you didn’t realize it sooner though.

“I like it.” His eyes trail over you.

“Thanks. Me too.” You nod, coming to smell your wrist. “Guess you know my taste well.”

He half grins at that.

“I-I was saying that my dad used bake with me on holidays and it made me remember what my mom told me last time I talked to her.” You try to steer the conversation back.

That peaked his interest.

“What did she say?” He asked, taking a tip of his white wine.

“She said my dad had lost his job but she assured me he would find a new one soon since he’d already applied to another warehouse.”

He nods slowly urging you to continue.

“But it just makes me feel really guilty that I’m sitting here doing nothing all day while they’re working all day to….support my education. My parents are getting older.” You bit your lip, the actual guilt really hit you for a moment.

Jungkook eyes you, tapping his chopsticks against the plate.

“Do you need me to send them money?”

“No! W-What? No.” You let a breathless laugh out and shook your head. “I wouldn’t ask that. I mean I feel like it’s my fault. I f-feel like I should be doing more.”

He leans back into his seat, seemingly processing your words. Your heart is ready to jump out of your chest.

You let out a sigh and you look around the space.

“You don’t know what it’s like to grow up without finacial stability and an easy way out. But this is eating me up at night. I feel responsible for my parents and I-I am disappointing them already. Even if they don’t know it yet.”

You don’t look towards him as you continue. Feeling your throat start to close up.

“I just wish you’d ..reconsider. Going to college isn’t a threat to you-to us. I already live here and I’m with you.” You explain calmly. “If you really do love me, you wouldn’t be so careless with my future. I’ve been doing everything you want me to.”

He remains silent so you decide to add to your confession.

“I-I know you don’t trust me yet and that I haven’t earned it all. But please, keeping me away from everything isn’t going to prove my trust.” Finally, you return your gaze to him and look him straight in the eye.

“You’re only making my anxiety worse.”

With a wide-eyed expression, you raised your eyebrows emphasizing your words and waited stiffly for his reply. The TV playing in the background on low volume completely drained out as you zeroed in on him.

He let out a scoff, turning his head to the side.

The little bit of confidence you had fizzled out.

“So, that’s what all this has been about.” He confirms. “You held out longer than I thought baby.”

“No, this wasn’t just about that. I do care what you think and I did enjoy cooking for you, especially your favorite food because I-I do pay attention. I just thought you’d appreciate it more if…..if.” You stumbled over your words towards the end growing frustrated at your pleas falling on deaf ears.

“Are you done?” He asked with clear impatience when he saw you didn’t continue your rambling.

The action made you halt and stop mid sentence. You weren’t sure why but the sight of his aloofness made you cower. He was making you feel so insignificant. As if everything you said was a lie. As if he were dealing with a child instead of another equal with feelings. It reminded you of how Eunji had made you feel at times and you despised it.

You despised it because of how much you cared what he thought and felt about you.

“It’s only been a couple of weeks baby.” He coaxed you with a much nicer tone when he noticed your upset reaction. “You didn’t really think you’d sway me so easily, did you?”

Maybe you did.

You slammed down your chopsticks on the table and pushed yourself out of your chair. Jungkook followed your movements as you came to stand in front of him before you kneeled down, your knees scraping against the floor.

“Jungkook please, please.” You were out of options and resorting to the most degrading one but you didn’t care. “You need to let me go back! M-My parents… I feel stuck in here! Please!”

Reaching out to tug on his hand, your fingers caught hold of his shirt and he looked slightly surprised by your actions. His eyes widened the slightest bit as he took in your frantic state and high pitched pleas.He didn’t protest when you held his right hand with both of yours.

“Please! I’ll do anything but don’t take this away. I can’t be locked in here all day! Please!”

You felt like cowering even more under his scrutinizing eyes. His expression soon morphing into one of irritation.

“Stand up baby.” He pulled his hand away from you and wrapped an arm around your shoulder to get you back on your feet. But you didn’t budge.

He snapped your name.

“Seriously, stand up.” He demanded more firmly. Looking completely annoyed now by your antics.

“What do you think you’ll gain from keeping me from going back to university ?! I have a life to return to! This won’t make things better!” You were trying everything now. Picking holes in what you thought were his plans and ideas. Trying to shatter whatever delusion had made him come to this drastic conclusion.

He let out a low curse. The chair squeaked under him as he pushed it away from the table and turned his body towards you. He dipped his head down and tugged on your loose ponytail, the action made you immediately close your mouth and shut your eyes at the stinging pain.

“You know what I think baby?” He whispered into your ear, his breath tickling your neck.

“I think you’ve become a manipulative little bitch.”

With that he stood up and left your kneeling figure on the floor. Your hands dropped on the chair he had been sitting. You his heavy footsteps down the hallway followed by the bedroom door shutting loudly. You ran a hand through your hair and held back tears at his insult. He had never expressed himself that way about you. It left an ugly wound on your heart and it triggered the undeniable people pleasing trait in you. A feeling you never wanted to feel again.

You’d thought you’d never feel worse than how you did when you found out about Eunji’s backstabbing nature but this was ultimately worse.

It felt so much worse.

Not him.

Not him too.

~~

It had been 2 months since then.

The rest of the days after that you had spent crying your eyes out til you physically felt you couldn’t anymore. You had held a grudge against him for his cruel words and he had taken notice. The weeks that had followed had been consistent of his various forms of apologies. He’d told you he hadn’t meant it and how sorry he was for using such a nasty insult towards you. Brought you back flowers everytime he’d return back from whatever errand he went to that day. Spent the night paying extra attention to you until you’d given in to his pleading large eyes that at times resembled that of a wounded boy’s.

His sweet whispers had convinced you to the point of even more intimate forms of affection, your body falling victim to his needy touches again . In a way you’d indulged in it as form of distraction yet again. Surprisingly yourself with the way you’d tightly grip the sheets, head buried into the mattress letting out encouraging whimpers at every harsh thrust. The nights had turned into the sweet escape you needed to make up for all the hours you’d spend alone. They had felt like a reward for making it through days with no complaints.

So you had given up for the time being and taken a different approach. You weren’t sure if you’d even call it that as it was more so your way of coping with the situation.

Was it? The days had started going by more quickly and at time you found yourself wondering what you were coping with exactly.

Your days were now mainly focused on new hobbies that were done in in the comfort of the apartment. You got into scrapbooking oddly enough. The idea had come to you once you rummaged through one of Jungkook’s drawers and found a kraft paper journal. Along with some stationary items you’d stolen from him, you had began to fill out the pages with different places you wanted to visit around the world. It had been something you remembered doing once when you were in middle school but you never got to finish due to running out pages on your tiny cheap notebook.

This time, you’d glued every magazine cut out, ribbon, glitter, different stickers and wrote out reasons to visit for each place. It had taken up your time along with the books you’d get Jungkook to bring you.

Comfort could help build a glorious cage.

You’d soon realized that the time here had simply brought back you’re already introverted nature and heightened it. It made way for you to indulge in all the more small things that you had always wanted but never had the luxury of having. Everything seemed much more appealing in a large space. You’d gotten to rearrange thing to your liking, growing more bold with the way you dealt with the kitchen or bathroom supplied as if they were your own. Integrating every one of your habits with Jungkook’s. Now you rarely thought twice before waking up and starting your routine. Your focus shifting to what you should bake that day, what you should read or write in your notebook, if you would scrapbook or finish a puzzle or simply lounge around and watch TV for the rest of the day.

The thoughts of your parents and responsibilities still lingered but in a more hidden spot of your brain, coming out in infrequent waves when your anxiety would also sneak it’s way through the edges.

Your anxiety.

It had been controlled every since Jungkook had come home with your refilled prescription last month. You had no idea when he had even found your empty bottle and took it upon himself to order the refill but you didn’t complain. It had eased you with its way it had you out cold nearly every night. No more heart palpitations or sweaty palms before drifting off to a fragile sleep. It didn’t rid you of it completely of course, you had your off days where it would trigger back.

The days had become more peaceful as well as Jungkook had started to spend more time at home too and taken less trips to the company. His absence was often the reason for those flare ups of anxiousness. He hadn’t had any outbursts since that dinner disaster and the one he’d had before become more of a distant dream floating further and further. That wasn’t to say he’d let his boundaries slip away. The mention of college was still a subject you hadn’t dared bring up again, neither was the one of your phone.

It was tedious to break the habit of reaching over the nightstand to pick up your phone or the sudden urge you still got to want to look at the time or check texts and emails. It had taken you the same effort to try and convince yourself you had no assignments due anymore and you didn’t need to set an alarm for anything. It had driven you nearly mad at the beginning, given your unpleasant breakdown but your mind had latched itself onto other stimulating activities to ease it.

You turned on the faucet and rinsed off your toothbrush before opening the medicine cabinet. Taking out your anxiety meds, your eyes linger on the pill bottle you’d always see. ‘Zyprexa 10 mg’.

You pick it up and unscrew the lid, counting the pills inside.

11.

They’re had been 11 pills ever since you’d first had found them in this cabinet. You didn’t know why you bothered to count them everyday. The number never changed. Jungkook was not taking them and had not been for a while. Despite the worry that piled inside you, you had not had the courage to confront him about it. Of course you didn’t know his reasoning or the details as to why he may not be taking it. You thought over the possibility of perhaps his doctor taking him off them but it was all just a part of the many excuses you’d made for him. You knew well why you wouldn’t mention them to him. The thought of an unpleasant reaction had chained you to an invisible wall.

“You’ve become a manipulative little bitch.”

The words would too often make their home inside mind, ruining your pleasant thoughts for the day.

You screwed the lid back on and tossed them back inside. After taking your meds, you walked back into the bedroom and saw Jungkook buttoning up his loose shirt. He tucked the ends inside his well-fitted pants, the work attire hugging his frame perfectly.

“I was thinking of making brownies today.” You tell him with a yawn, rubbing your eyes as you went over to him. “Or lemon bars, I haven’t decided.”

His nose scrunched up at the word ‘lemon’. It was so animated that it reminded you of a child.

“Definitely brownies, please.” You fought a grin before your eyes took in the scrapbook that was wide open on the bed.

“You’ve added a new place.” Jungkook comments, gesturing to the addition of ‘Zion’ and the breathtaking landscape pictures you had plastered all over the two large pages.

You felt a bit shy at how nosey he had been in knowing every detail of the book ever since you’d started it. It was endearing how he’d pay close attention to every page though and how he’d encouraged you to keep adding more. He had spent one day making you describe and explain why’d you chosen each place despite the small descriptions you’d already written on them. Most had been really superficial and non-interesting reasons, you just sounded like the typical tourist. He didn’t mind though, he had rested his head on your shoulder and listened while making sly comments.

That day he’d also promised you he’d take you to every one. You’d nearly laughed in his face but he had not broken a single smile. He had been dead serious. He claimed that at least but he seemed to know why you’d find that hard to believe given the circumstances he’d put you in.

“It won’t always be this way, baby.” He said with such certainty that you needed to believe him.“I’m only trying to teach you a lesson, show you what you haven’t yet realized.”

You didn’t really dwell on what he meant by that. It was obvious enough he’d done this to get back at you but what exactly had you not realized yet? You weren’t sure. In your perspective, his motives seem to be the same as they always did.

To keep you at his side.

“I think it’s really cool. I remember looking up pictures of it one time.”

“It looks amazing, I don’t think I’ve ever visited anywhere like that.” His gaze then returned to you as he motioned for you to get closer.

You held back a gasp when he grasped your waist and pulled you into his chest, your feet lifting off the floor for a second.

“I have a surprise for you.” He muffled into your neck, pressing his lips to your skin. “God I love this smell on you.”

It was his own perfume he had gifted you a while back and you almost called out the arrogant comment but you only let out a scoff instead.

“A surprise?” Your heart had skipped a beat but you scolded yourself to remain calm. To not get your hopes up for something too grandeur. Jungkook had made it clear you had not yet earned his full trust .The path was unclear but it was considerably still long.

And that meant you couldn’t have earned your phone back.

“Have you ever been here?” You turned when you felt the loss of contact on your neck and looked down to what he had pulled from behind him. He held two tickets in his hand, your eyed read over the famous name of the theme park.

“No.” Your eyed widened as you took the tickets in your hand. “The prices were always too out of my budget.”

The popular theme park was a known tourist attraction in this city. It was the largest in the country and you had been hoping you would get to visit it when you had first moved here for college but the money would never add up. Your funds would barely cover your food expenses at times and it left little room for much else.

It felt like you had a golden ticket in your hand, a full smile broke out on your face.

“Are we really going?” You face him, the tiniest bit of doubt seeping through your tone. The slightest bit of possibility of this being some kind of test or joke had slithered it’s way into you.

Jungkook looked almost offended by the question. His eyes boring into you as he let out a short laugh.

“Of course we are baby, that’s why I bought them.” He tells you, kissing your cheek. “You’ve been such a good girl lately, you deserve it.”

You were going out.

You would be outside again and at one of the most whimsical theme parks to exist.

“And if you keep it up,” He says into your ear, fingers tracing down the edge of your shoulder.“Things might start going back to the way they were.”

His implication was clear. If you stayed in his good graces, you’d eventually get your phone back and even your college transfer back. Your future back. The freedom back.

“Really?” Your eyes tried to search for the bluff. The teasing. Anything. But it didn’t surface. He nodded and smirked at your reaction, laying another kiss to your temple.

Had that been the lesson?

He had given these things so easily and he wanted to show you how easily he had been able to snatch it right back. If you had thought had been walking on eggshells with him before, that had been nothing compared to these past weeks, months.

That was the key to the lock wasn’t it? Had that been it all this time? If you had wanted to go back to the way things were, Jungkook had to see your mind and devotion shift completely towards him. Truly towards him. Not in the way you thought it looked like it would please him. He had made it happen gradually, organically even.

But the pressing question stood.

Did you want to go things to go back to how they were?

Yes. But not so much that it hurt you if they didn’t. Like you thought it would. Like it had hurt the first few weeks.

That in itself meant you were running out of time.

Because you shouldn’t want things to go back to the way they were.

You should want to completely get rid of Jungkook and his insanity. You should want to figure out a way to escape his blackmail and invisible cage. You should want to never turn back.

But it seemed to be too late.

Because all you had been thinking about these days were how much you studied his every move, how much you had memorized every blemish or insignificant mole on his back while you drifted off to sleep. How often he’d pout his lips unknowingly when you weren’t paying attention. How much you’d wish to smooth out the crease between his eyebrows just once and be able to look at him with as much love as he looked at you.

You’d analyzed his every move, afraid of what was next but in the process you questioned why you had also memorized his every habit. His favorite foods and snacks, how surprisingly tidy he was about his closet and clothes. How normal he seemed despite the dark secrets and intentions that boiled inside him.

Because the more you stayed in his home, the more you had started forgetting what your life was before it and why those starry brown eyes seemed far more enticing than the filthy walls of a motel or the familiar humble structure of your parent’s home.

—

From the moment you entered the park, you felt your spirits go up. You didn’t know if was purely the fact that you were finally getting fresh air or that you were actually looking forward to seeing everything inside. It was jaw dropping from the get-go. You were sure your fascination came from never really attending these types of attractions as a child or teenager but this one experience seemed to make up for all of it.

During the drive here you had mentioned to Jungkook that you wanted to take pictures of everything. It was a subtle hint towards your phone but in reality you weren’t expecting him to give in to you even for that use of it. You were right of course, he brushed it off saying you could use his instead.

You gave Jungkook’s hand a squeeze when you spotted the growing crowds as you neared the some of the restaurants and rides but he gave you an assuring smile.

“You’re fine.” He tugged you into his side, the breeze felt nice on your skin.

You repeated his words in your head as you focused your attention more towards all the tall rides and characters that wandered around the area dressed from well-known fables. A small giggle leaving your lips at some of the costumes they wore. They looked ridiculously cute.

The next hour consisted of you practically dragging him around and pointing to all the types of junk food that you wanted to try. The first victim was the Fairy themed milkshakes located in the Medieval village zone. They were a baby pink and blue infusion with edible glitter sprinkled on the top of the whipped cream.

“They look so good.” You mumbled to Jungkook as you two waited for your order in front of the small stand that was shaped like a tree bark. The decorations were impressive, the led lights layered around the plastic leaves flickered but it was hard to notice them in broad daylight.

“It looks like it tastes like a bag of sour candy.” He mused, playing with the ends of your hair.

“That would taste good.”

He smiled fondly at that, laying a soft kiss on your forehead before he heard the order being called out. His delicate touch were the ones that always sent the most shivers through your body.

He brought back the obnoxious drink and you wasted no time in taking a sip. The flavor was not as strong as you thought, it tasted almost like marshmallow but with a fruity aftertaste.

“Mmm.” You exclaimed sipping more. “Try it.”

He threw out his gum that he had been chewing and took a reluctant sip of it. You watched as he smacked his lips together, making a distasteful face.

“Oh baby,” He handed you back the shake with a shake of his head. “That’s fucking awful.”

What? It had not been that bad even if it wasn’t to someone’s liking. You wanted to roll your eyes at his dramatics.

“No it’s not!” You gaped at him, taking another sip. It tasted perfect to you. “It’s probably because of your gum.”

“Sure.” He said unconvincingly before guiding you both back towards the next destination on the theme park map.

The next victims included a corn dog, some type of corn soup and an abnormal sized cookie. All delicious to you but it had not been such a good idea to eat them all at once and then begin to go on the rides. Time was passing a lot quicker than you hoped and every stop you’d make to take a picture seemed to take longer with crowds of people waiting behind you to take the exact same one. In the exactly same pose.

The sun was setting and your legs had been started to burn now but you tried your best to ignore them. Thankfully, your anxiousness had not surfaced too much today. You thought over how it would’ve been a very different story if you hadn’t been able to take your meds again. It would’ve likely made it impossible for you to make it five minutes in here , let alone half the day.

Your eyes observed as Jungkook took a picture of one of the brightly lit canoe rides under a bridge with a boyish grin on his face despite the contrasting appearance of his dark attire and inked sleeves.

If only the people around you knew how quickly he could turn it off and on. Not even the almost grudge type style could truly ever match how cynical he could be if he chose to. It was anything but a font.

Yet you almost felt required to conceal that part of him from others. A feeling of protectiveness over how they’d perceive him or judge him.

It was silly considering the average pedestrian had more to fear of him than him of them but of course feelings never took the logical route.

“Did you come here a lot growing up?” You asked him as he snapped a last photo and handed over his phone to you. You had been the one carrying it around mostly due to him growing tired of you asking for it every second you saw something that peaked your interest.

“Twice. I loved the fast rides mostly.” He replied and you remembered how he had not stopped insisting you both get on the giant anchor ride. The sight of the swinging ship was a little off-putting to say the least but you weren’t completely against the idea. You had already been on a couple of the smaller rides in the park, like the spinning seashell ride that had you almost tasting the donut you’d ate before getting on.

You stared down at his phone screen, his home screen lit up and unsurprisingly his background was now a picture of you two standing at the very entrance of the theme park with the jumbo size sign behind you.

It was weird to look at because of how natural you both looked in it. His hand wrapped around your shoulder, a grin on his face and you had placed a hand on his chest.You tried to find an indication that this looked like anything other than a normal and even corny couple picture but you didn’t find one.

Could it be that you failed to find one because that’s what it felt like when it was taken? And it was it still felt like right now.

“With your whole family?”

“Mhm.” He nodded nonchalantly as you both walked past down the sidewalk that had all the restaurants and bakery shops.“ It was mostly my mom and I though, my dad used to complain pretty early on and just let us wander the park while he sat and waited on the benches.”

“Oh.” You mumble, frowning a bit.“Did that annoy you?”

He glanced at you, seeming to think back on it.

“Not really. I don’t think I cared that much back then or noticed.” Despite the dismissive words, you couldn’t help but detect a bit of snark in his tone.

“Still, he’s your dad.” You remind him as he held the shop door open for you and you gave him a small smile before stepping inside. His hand on your back despite you guiding which direction to walk over to first.

“He is.” You hear him reply behind you.“Why the sudden curiousity about my dad baby? Do you need my entire family therapy notes?”

You grew nervous at his inquisitive tone. You had not meant to pry into his father in particular, that’s just where the conversation had fallen naturally. For the first time your intentions didn’t have much of an ulterior motive in hopes of catching him in a lie or uncovering another skeleton in his closet. It was becoming a habit to just ask him about much of anything in a way you’d ask a friend.

“I was just wondering, my parents could never take me to these kinds of things.”

You felt him look at you from the corner of your eye when you went to stand beside him to look over a pile of baseball caps and beanies on a display shelf.

“Truth is there isn’t much to say about him, good or bad. I saw him as more of a burden to me at one point more than anything.” He mutters as he lifts up a headband with mouse ears on each end and tried to put it on you before you swat his hand away.

You don’t know what to say to his passing comment. There was an urge to ask him a follow-up question to it but you decide against it.

“Look at these.” You pointed in awe at the sight of vintage themed keychains instead. The souvenir shop you were in had an European architectural style. You went to pick up a pair of tiny tea cups that had a floral pattern wrapped around the porcelain glass. “It’s all so pretty.”

The previous scenic gardens zone you had just been at had probably been your favorite place out of the whole park.Jungkook’s camera roll now full with photos of all the different colored tulips that surrounded the trail. It was one of the most popular attractions for good reason. Jungkook had followed you like a lost child when you kept speed walking towards the countless sets of floral faces.

“Pschyology,” Jungkook says as he picks up the same tea cups in your hand, inspecting them. “What made you pick it as a major?”

You give him a questioning look at the drastic subject change, tensing up a bit at thought of discussing college again considering how downhill it had gone last time you had brought it up.

“Um.” You swallow. “I’m not so sure, I felt drawn to it and it seemed like a subject I could do well in. I don’t know if that’s still true though.”

It turns out knowing your psyche and patterns so well doesn’t always save you. You felt more disconnected with it by the day.

“Is that still what you want to do?” He puts down the teacups, his fingers brushing over a set of tiny wine glasses.

“Yes. I think so.” You try not to sound too eager. It felt like such a fragile gift he could easily shatter between his fingers.

He nods.

“You don’t have to feel like you need to do it just to please your parents baby. If you have other interests , I could always open up a way for you to do them.” You aren’t sure how true that is considering he had already snatched your future away so easily until he saw fit to give it back. Who was to say he wouldn’t do the same to anything else you wanted to do? But he sounded so genuine that you wanted to believe him.

You stay silent.

“Why did you decide to study so far away from home?” His eyes study your face.

The question catches you off guard. You brought your gaze down to the items in your hands. If you lied, he would know. You were sure of it. But if you told the truth, you feared the reaction would be not much different.

He seems to understand the meaning behind your silence. A look of realization crossing his face before his gaze hardened.

“Oh.” He says dryly. “Of course.”

You felt embarrassed by it all over again. You’d already tortured yourself enough for your dumb decision when it had come to Eunji.

“At least I have one thing to thank her for then.” He grasps your chin, a small smile playing on his lips before he gives you a firm kiss. His hand wraps around your neck as he pushes you further into him.

You feel yourself melting away, your lips parting slightly allowing his tongue to slip inside. Despite the intensity, the kiss feels playful with the feeling of his other hand pinching your sides and making you yelp.

“J-Jungkook!” You hiss in a low whisper, pulling away. You glance around to make sure nobody is watching you. It always seemed mortifying to you for strangers to witness those intimate displays.

He laughed in response, walking past you to seemingly go look at something else. You felt a little breathless and your face was for sure looking flushed.

A vibration in your hand made you look down.

Jungkook’s phone had received a notification. You snuck a glance at him to make sure he wasn’t looking your direction before unlocking it. If he had a passcode, he had removed it for today so you could easily navigate his photo gallery.

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about going through it but it had been impossible to with Jungkook glued to your side the entire time. Even on your bathroom breaks, he had not been careless enough to let you go in with it. Silently reaching out his hand to remove it from your grip before you’d slip inside.

However, the notification was not what you were expecting. It was a reminder for his mother’s birthday. Tomorrow.

He’d set a reminder? You fought a smile at that. It seemed thoughtful given how he expressed their less than ideal relationship nowadays.

You tapped on his calendar, mindlessly scrolling down and you didn’t even pretend to be shocked your birthday was on there as well but your eyes caught another date that caught your attention more. It was titled ‘FS’.

11-11-20

You frowned at it.

FS.

Staring at the date, you tried to figure out why it would be significant to him. It clearly wasn’t some type of appointment or meeting considering the difference in the way he had wrote those down. Had it been an anniversary? You thought back to when you had met him.He would be the type to write that day as your anniversary date. But this was a year too early. You hadn’t met him at the cafe until much later.

Your fingers froze the second you pieced it together.

FS.

First sighting.

“Baby?” Nearly dropping the phone at the sound of him behind you, you quickly exited the calendar app and turned to him just in time he closed in on you.

“You got a reminder for your mom’s birthday.” You tell gently and hand him over the phone, a crease forming in your eyebrow. “It’s tomorrow?”

He takes it and types something out.

“Yeah, she kept asking me if we would come to her birthday dinner tomorrow.” He tells you and you can’t detect any specific emotion from his tone.

“My dad isn’t going to make it to it again.” He looks like he’s about to roll his eyes.

His mother wanted you to come too?

“We should go.” You offer, looking back towards his phone. “I-I mean if you want to? She probably feels lonely.”

He looks up to meet your gaze.

“You want to go?”

Would he find that weird? You didn’t think so. He didn’t seem to mind last time she had come unexpectedly to the apartment.

“She was really nice to me.” You say recalling the memory that seemed far away now.

The corner of his mouth lifts up. Like it did whenever he found something you did cute or amusing.

“Sucking up to your mother in law already, baby?” He teased and pulled you in. It wasn’t that. Was it? You suppose you didn’t mind bonding with her a bit more. The idea didn’t sound terrible. The image of her or anyone sitting alone having dinner on their birthday made your heart shatter.

Would Jungkook have really let her spend her birthday completely alone?

“Let’s go, we still have one more ride to go on.” He tells you and your face drops.

“No, please.” You complain as he tugged you forward but then looked back at the tiny pair of teacups you had put back down.

“Heights aren’t really my thing, I’m gonna throw up all I ate.”

“Don’t be such a baby.” He gives you a cynical grin, picking up the teacup set. “Let’s pay for this first though.”

“I don’t need that.” You protest going to grab it from him but he pulls it up higher so you are unable to reach it.

“You didn’t put it down the entire time we were in here.”

You groan as he practically drags you towards the register.

—-

The restaurant was dimly lit. It was a bit far out of into the city, located in a more calm and pleasant atmosphere that was popular for its scenic views. You felt out of place the moment you stepped in. Evidently you didn’t look out of place though. Your appearance was funded by your boyfriend, your mid-length black dress probably cost more than your entire tuition. You would’ve confirmed it if Jungkook hadn’t ripped of the tag before gifting it to you a few days ago. You stared down at the Christian Louboutin red bottoms on your feet, you’d half expected them to sense your tax bracket and make you fall head first the second you put them on.

You switched the gift bag you were carrying to your less dominant hand when you went to greet Jungkook’s mother with a swift side hug. She looked lovely, you caught a quick whiff of her perfume before you pulled away. The scent was slightly familiar. She seemed ecstatic at your arrival, well you assumed her joy was mainly aimed towards her son but you didn’t mind being on the receiving end of it too. It felt like ages since you had interacted with anyone besides Jungkook.

Not that you necessarily minded it, you weren’t exactly equipped at social interactions with strangers as proven before. But in a way his mother didn’t feel like too much of a stranger like last time you saw her. There was an air of warmth that surrounded her that at times mirrored Jungkook’s.

“Happy birthday.” You say to her , digging your nails into your palm in an effort to calm your nerves. The undeniable awkwardness you carried was hard to mask.

“I’m so glad you could make it.” She said. Her hair was styled into a slick bun just like yours and you smiled at the coincidence. She looked more elegant this time around, her heavier makeup enhanced her most prominent features.

“Thank you for inviting me.”

Jungkook had been walking a few steps behind you and you saw his mother’s face lit up instantly when she spotted him over your shoulder . You turned your neck, watching a tense smile spread his lips as he hesitated to hug her. It was the most uncomfortable you had never seen him. As a matter of fact, it was probably the only time you had ever seen him like that.

He gave in at last, giving her a brief hug that seemed to surprise even her. Her eyes widened a bit at his short-lived contact and you wondered how long it has been since Jungkook had properly hugged his mother. Months? Years?

It seems like you weren’t the only one out of place.

You took a seat, placing his mother’s gift beside you on the floor. Your nerves kicked in at the sight of the crowded space and far too prestigious set of silverware in front of you. Jungkoook soon followed beside you, a much more relaxed look on his face now that he put some distance with his mother. The smell of his cologne hit you and it did wonders to calm your overactive senses.

It was funny to think his scent once did the exact opposite.

“You must be sad your husband couldn’t make it, I’m sorry I wish I could’ve met him too.” You commented in an attempt to break any of the awkward silence that could follow after that greeting.

It was a small fib , you weren’t sure you wanted to meet Jungkook’s father at all with the way both him and his mother had spoken about him. He seemed rather cold by their descriptions but then again, if his mother was anything like Jungkook, you weren’t sure she was the most reliable narrator.

You pushed the awfully rude thought away, not knowing where it came from. His mother had not been unkind to you and she didn’t seem to carry any of Jungkook’s negative traits at all.

“Ah, don’t be. My husband rarely attends birthday dinners. His business trips are something I’ve grown used to.” She responds as she looks down at the menu but sneaks a quick glance at you.

“You look even prettier than I remembered by the way, my son sure knows how to pick them.”

Your cheeks warm at her compliment.

“It hasn’t been that long since you saw me.” You hold back a laugh. It was probably the help of the makeup you had piled on to cover all the blemishes on your skin that had you appearing more vibrant.

“I’m getting old now. A few weeks feel like a decade.” She sighs and you can’t help but let out a laugh this time. Jungkook is silent , looking engrossed in the menu.

“You’re not old at all. You look great.” You reassured her and decide to finally start paying attention to the menu as well. However, seeing the prices made you nearly cringe.

You sneaked a glance back at his mother and then towards Jungkook. You chewed on your bottom lip as an unpleasant thought occured to you. It didn’t seem like his mother suspected you weren’t from the same background as Jungkook but what if she did? If she knew you couldn’t afford any of this, not even what you were wearing from head to toe, would she assume something different from you?

Thinking back to your previous interaction with her at his apartment, his mother didn’t really seem like the type. She had not questioned your family or background at all. She only seemed interested in you and what you meant for her son. You buried the thought away despite the feeling of embarrassment at the idea of her somehow knowing he had basically began to financially support your entire life. Among other things.

“I’ll just get whatever you get.” You muttered to Jungkook, eyeing his menu.

He frowns.

“Are you sure? You should get whatever you feel like eating baby.” His words comfort you but just by glancing at the options, you realize you don’t even know what half of it means. They don’t provide much descriptions either.

Jungkook observed you and you tried to ignore the way you could feel him already grasping your issue. Him knowing you that well shouldn’t make your stomach flip the way it did.

“That one,” He gestured to the oddly named item on the left corner. “It’s a pasta. Tagliatelle with truffle sauce. It’s really good, fits your taste I think.”

“You got that from me liking the spaghetti you made the other night?”

He gives you a teasing grin and nods. “Think of it as white spaghetti.”

Swallowing you put the menu down and tap your finger against it.

“I hope your mom likes the gift.” You really had no idea what to get her so naturally you relied completely on Jungkook to choose. It was a high end handbag he had picked out, assuring you that it would be to her liking. Maybe some flowers would’ve seemed more genuine on your part but you had forgotten to ask Jungkook to stop by for them on your way here.

“She will, don’t worry.” He pecked your lips before you could scold him. The PDA would never feel comfortable to you no matter how used you were to his touch by now. Much less with his mother as the main audience this time.

“My son has always been really affectionate. Straight out the womb, he was such a cuddly child.” His mother watched you fondly, her hands now clasped in front of her. “You two seem to match so well .”

“Yes, you mentioned he was clingy.” You blurt out before you realized what you said. It sounded a bit rude.

“I mean, as a child.” You clarify and watch Jungkook raised both his eyebrows as he took a sip of his water. He seemed unbothered by the comment thankfully.

“Yes, he was.” His mother chuckled at you.

At least they have a sense of humor. Must run in the family.

“What I mean is, I’m glad that side of him is back. I hadn’t seen it in a long time.” She explains with a more glum tone.

“And who’s fault is that?” You hear Jungkook remark.

His mother’s expression visibly falls. Her smile remained but she lowered her gaze, avoiding his eyes.

“Jungkook.” You whisper to him with an imploring look.

Instantly you feel a sense of not only embarrassment for her but deep empathy. She seemed so happy just moments ago. It was her birthday and that made it all much worse. While you knew Jungkook was far from fully reconciling with his mother, you had assumed he was on the right path at least. His mother himself had hinted at it. You had expected him to not make snide remarks at the very least.

Thankfully the waiter comes to take the orders before any of you can utter another word. You bite your nails nervously and look towards Jungkook for help in pronouncing the pasta meal. He struggles with it too but plays it off better than you would’ve. The pinch between his eyebrows was amusing and he gives your shoulder a squeeze when he notices your inability to keep a straight face.

Once the waiter leaves, you don’t know what to say to make things better. You don’t know his mother well enough to offer any sort of distraction but you wanted to lighten the mood at all costs. You never did well this sort of pressuring atmosphere, you feared you’d start to feel claustrophobic soon if something didn’t distract you too.

“Lots of children tend to be clingy I think.” You look between her and Jungkook. He gives you a thoughtful look, resting his head on the palm of his hand “But it usually fades out one way or another.”

It was a weak attempt.

“Yes, I guess that’s true.” His mother replied softly seeming to appreciate it nonetheless.

“Did you always want to be a lawyer?” Changing the subject might be for the best.

She goes on go explain that she didn’t at first and thought she’d end up becoming an interior designer due to her fascination with art when she was younger. But she ultimately decided to go to law school because her parents thought she’d strive there and have a more successful career overall. They had been right of course, she had been a top student. She claims it was hard and one of the worst experiences in her life was attending those first days of law school along with the bar exam despite her success.

You listen to her intently, nodding along to her ramblings that at moments remind you of your own. Her mannerisms continue to remind you of her son though, the resemblance still as uncanny as ever.

The food eventually arrives and that’s when you look over at Jungkook. He doesn’t seem particularly interested in what his mother is saying and you assume it’s because he must’ve already heard it countless of times before.

“What about you? I heard you’re a psychology student.” His mother questions, cutting into her steak.

You pause, your eyes slowly trailing towards Jungkook who has sharpened his gaze. But his glare is directed at his mother first before it lands on you.

A warning sits behind his eyes.

“Y-Yeah. I’m just sorta taking a short break right now.”

Take the shake of your voice. You wanted to smack yourself for having such thin skin and the complete opposite of a poker face.

“Really? Oh that’s good. I hope you find a nice career in psychology. You seem like a very smart girl.” You smile at her words.

I thought I was until I met your son. The words sat on the tip of your tongue.

“She is.” Jungkook confirms with a nod, stabbing the fork harshly into the piece of meat on his place. He raised an eyebrow at his mother. “She doesn’t need a career to prove that.”

His mother smiles, oblivious to what those words really mean for you. She swallowed her bite and looks between the two of you.

“She doesn’t but I’m sure that’s what she wants if she’s in college.”

“Mm” Jungkook muses, holding up the piece of steak on his fork as if to inspect it. “Sure, she can get a degree but I expect to take care of my wife so there’s not a need for her to stress over it.”

Wife.

A cough leaves you upon hearing that. You tried to chew down the pasta you were sure had just gotten stuck in your throat. Blinking away the tears forming, you reach over to take a sip of water.

“Oh?” His mother eyes your actions, a bit perplexed. “I suspected you two were already serious but I didn’t know marriage was already on the table. I’m glad.”

You clear your throat and wipe away your watery eyes.

“I-I,”You gape at Jungkook but he ignores you , still looking towards his mother. “Sorry I wasn’t expecting him to say that either.”

“Eventually we will. Maybe sooner rather than later.” He shrugs, bringing the fork to his mouth and chewing down the steak. “ That’s the goal isn’t it? What’s so shocking about it?”

Staring down at your plate, you swore you feel the room spin for a split second.

“No! It’s not shocking at all. I always knew you’d want to marry once you found the right person.” His mother beams, sounding much more pleased by the idea the more she talked. All her previous bewilderment gone.

“I think I’d need to mention that to my parents first.” You express and send Jungkook a puzzled look.

Your parents.

The thought of them receiving the news of you in such a serious relationship that talks of marriage were already in the air made you squirm. You had barely even admitted to having crushes back when you lived with them, let alone someone close to a fiancé. A stupidly foolish part of you at one point had fantasied about that person you’d bring home to them would be Eunji.

Eunji.

You blocked her image out entirely, aggressively burying it away.

“I think it’s time for you to let me meet them then.” He throws back in a sickeningly sweet stone that silenced you with ease.

The last thing you wanted was Jungkook within any close distance of your parents. Not with everything he had against you. He might be the only man who’s ever had your heart ache terribly like this but he was could also become the man from your worst nightmares at one wrong move . To have him face to face with the people he’d swore he’d show your darkest secrets to if you didn’t comply was something you weren’t sure you could handle yet. The very thought of it made a wave of nausea hit you. It would be such a vulnerable position.

Even though it felt like years rather than months since that video had been taped, you knew that in itself meant you had distanced yourself from it so much that a part of you felt like it never existed. That Jungkook had never done that.

That your entire relationship with him wasn’t built on lies and deceit.

The reality was too hard to face because your heart was insisting you’d give in entirely to it’s desires.

Your true desires.

And you felt like you already had.

“You haven’t met her parents?” His mother gathers your attention again. Her question lingered in the air for a few seconds before you took it in.

“Uh, no. Not yet. They don’t live close by.” You hope the excuse sounds convincing enough with your overly wide smile.

“Ah.” She nods understandably. “I hope they can meet him soon. I’d also like to meet the parents of such a lovely girl.”

“Yes, hopefully.” Twirling your fork around your plate you realize you’re not that hungry anymore.

“I didn’t see my parents much when I was in law school either and after I met my husband-”

“Excuse me, I need to use the restroom.”Jungkook announced and his mother paused mid sentence, giving him a small nod. You felt him lay a kiss on your cheek before he stood from his seat.

You watched as he walked away and disappeared into a corner.

“He gets bored easily at times.” His mother said sheepishly following your gaze.

For a second you’re tempted to ask her more about Jungkook now that the topic of conversation had shifted back to him momentarily. However, it seemed rude to try and pry about more than what you had already asked her when you had first met her. She seemed to have already over shared everything about him to you and you didn’t know if there was much else to ask. Not anything significant at least. Still you were greedy for every of untold story about him, for any of those insignificant details. Surprisingly your nosiness didn’t come from a place of pure fear this time. Your unease was accompanied with genuine concern and curiosity.

But you decided against it.It was her birthday after all. You shouldn’t risk tip toeing over a topic that could send her back to an unpleasant time period.

“I apologize for bringing you to such a crowded restaurant.” His mother says as she looks around.

The heavy murmurs and piano playing in the background fading as you focused on her.

“I know it’s not the best place for anxiety prone people. I used to hate it here too before I got used to it and fell in love with the food.” She adds with a soft laugh.

“Oh no it’s fine, really. I’ve been able to manage my anxiety a little better these days. It’s beautiful here.” You assure her and take a bite out of your food, not wanting it go to waste.

“That’s good to hear. Therapy?”

“N-No, I haven’t gone to therapy in a while. It did help me a lot though. I’m sure you know. Jungkook mentioned you also used to attend therapy regularly.” You bring your hand to your cover your mouth as you finish the bite.

You made a point to leave out the unnerving details of that story, not wanting to reveal how her son was first made aware of you. It was in fact a weird circumstance regardless if she was aware of his tendencies.

Her bright expression faltered. She stared at you for a long moment and blinked.

“Yeah.” She said after seconds of silence."Yeah, they for sure do help.”

She tilted her head to the side and focused back on her food. You notice the tiniest scrunch of her eyebrows before she sets her lips into a straight line.

That was strange.

You watch her carefully, your eyebrows furrowing as you try to decipher her reaction.

Jungkook returns a few minutes later and you plaster a smile on your face, attempting to push away the growing suspicion that settled in the pit of your stomach. The rest of the dinner goes smoothly, not anything of substance is said and Jungkook is mostly quiet. It was odd in a way to see him so closed off when it was usually you that was the silent one around people. You suppose it was due his mother’s presence being not nearly as intimidating as most people’s. Ironic considering her choice of career.

“We got you a gift.” You state the obvious once all of you had cleared your plates and a small round cake sat at the center of the table.

It had a dark chocolate spatula ribbon design on the bordes with a golden specked butterfly as the cake topper. The long wax candles placed in the middle already blown out. Your eyes had unconsciously been locked on the certain golden speckled figurine for reasons you could not begin to explain. It made you too aware of what his mother had said about the necklace.

“Jungkook picked it out so please blame him if you hate it.” You lightly joked.

“You really didn’t have to but thank you so much.” She took the gift bag from your hand, giving you a soft rub on the back when you leaned over to give her another quick hug.

You settled back into your seat and watched anxiously as she opened up the bag, shuffling through the tissue paper.

She took out the teal colored handbag and you clasped your hands together, tucking them into your chest. At first, the look in her face was unreadable as she further studied the purse. She looked in deep thought for a mere second before a smile broke out, her eyes widening.

“I-this is beautiful.” She expressed and looked over at Jungkook, you tuned to glance at him and noticed him simply watching her.

“I used to have one just like this.” You raise an eyebrow. Had Jungkook gifted her a purse she already owned? You wanted to call him out but his his mother continued.

“I lost it a long time ago. Thank you.” She told you before her gaze met her son’s again briefly. “I didn’t think you’d still remembered the exact purse.”

Looking down at the hand-bag, your eyes scanned her face before they traveled over to Jungkook’s piercing gaze. It was unflinching. He had avoided eye contact with his mother for most of the dinner but he now he seemed to be unable to look away. You couldn’t describe the way he was looking at her. His jaw was clenched but his eyes held something more.

And you swore you saw the corners of his mouth twitch so quickly that you convinced yourself it was your mind making you see things.

That same suspicion from earlier settled back into your stomach.

—-

It was stuck.

You pulled harder, letting out a huff as the bed frame legs loudly scraped against the floor tiles. Finally it moved and you slipped your head in between the small gap between it and the wall. Your hand felt for the piece of paper until you gripped the edges of it and carefully tried to scratch off the tape to not rip it apart.

Once you had it, you pushed the headboard back in place. Making sure it didn’t look slanted or out of place. Your eyes read over what you had written.

11-11-20

You were sure you would remember it without the need to write it down but you really didn’t want to put all your faith on the short term memory you possessed at the most important times. It had been the right decision because the numbers had already begun to fade when you got home that day with from the theme park. The hiding spot seemed extreme but you really knew better than to risk anything less cautious. Even more so with something that could very well be insignificant.

Jungkook didn’t tolerate secrets.

You knew that well now. Even if it was a one way street. It always would with him and you were starting to understand that, accept it even. But you didn’t know why your gut was telling you to not forget these numbers. This date. The first time Jungkook saw you in that waiting room.

But this date could be more significant in other ways.

It was a long shot. A really long shot.

And you didn’t even know why you were attempting it. You almost felt disappointment in yourself for even going behind his back again. Had you not learned your lesson? But this was innocent, wasn’t it? You were only trying to access the internet to check your bank account and emails from job offers you had applied to.

But the lie settled uncomfortably in you.

You could’ve simply asked Jungkook for his permission to use his monitor or MacBook. You were positive he wouldn’t refuse.

As long as he hovered over your shoulder while you did and you wouldn’t be able to snoop like you really wanted to.

Your thoughts threw back the harsh truth. Jungkook’s computer was the only thing you hadn’t managed to snoop through in this entire apartment. Which meant that was the closet where all his skeletons must’ve resided in. Most at least. What you were looking for exactly you didn’t know. The more you circled around the reasoning you came to conclusion that it was more so you were seeking to make sure he hadn’t done something.

Something you were terrified he’d gone through with since the second he’d made the disturbing threat.

Walking down the long corridor, you felt your heartbeat in your ears with every step. You halted in front of his office door and let your fingers close over the doorknob to pull the door open. The office didn’t look any different from how you had last seen it. You hadn’t stepped foot back inside since your last failed attempt at unlocking his computer. There was a great chance this would be your second and last failed attempt.

Stepping inside, you let the heel of your foot shut the door behind you. As you neared his desk, your eyes fell on a couple of folders and papers laid out. You pushed his chair away from his desk and took a seat on it. A paranoid thought popped into your head and you whipped your head around to check every ceiling corner of the room.

Why were you doing this? You shouldn’t be doing this.

Your hands felt sweaty clasping the mouse, the movement lighting up the screen. You gulped as you typed in the numbers from the wrinkled paper in your hand. The little loading icon that followed made your stomach churn.

You held in a gasp when the screen suddenly displayed a word document and multiple other tabs popped up.

You were in.

An unknown sensation went over you as you tried not to sit on the fact that he’d really had made that his passcode. It made your heartbeat faster than it already was.

Somehow it made you feel more guilty for doing this. You fought the urge to get up and sprint out, forgetting you had even thought of this but you stayed glued to the seat.

It took you a second to process before you read over what he had been doing before he logged off. But it was just a bunch of work documents he’d been typing out. They had his father’s company’s name on them. He had so many files too, you weren’t sure you’d be able to go through them all. You glanced over at the time on the corner of the screen, you still had plenty of time before he was supposed to be back from his errand. He had gone to drop off his car to get it detailed.

Despite that , you kept wanting to look over your shoulder at any sudden sound. You were stiff as a board as you clicked off his word document and clicked on an unnamed file. You scrolled and scrolled, your eyes trying to find something that stood out but nothing did. They all seemed work related, some even dating back to what seemed to be his college days. You moved over to his emails, squinting to read over the ones with long paragraphs. It was simply him giving detail responses to a colleague it seemed and instructions on another one. All similar subjects to his documents. Scrolling down further, you eventually came across dates that were too far back but you paused as you saw a female name on one.

A wiser woman would’ve not clicked it but your curiosity was one of your many flaws. Your eyes narrowed at the flirty message. It had also been work related and it was dated far back about more than a year ago. It seemed to be a female colleague of his and the flirtatious nature of her message had seemingly been one sided due to Jungkook’s dry response. You felt satisfied reading his lack of enthusiasm towards her, it had made you unclench your tight grip on your mouse.

Why had that made you jealous?

You let out an impatient sigh as you clicked off his emails.

What were you even thinking? He didn’t do anything.

He had been bluffing. Hoseok was fine. His family was fine. It had only been a warning and nothing more. But that gut feeling wouldn’t go away, that awful doubt rearing it’s ugly bead.

How could you be sure? You bit your nail nervously as you stared at the screen. You shakily opened the browser and went to Instagram. Logging into your account, you quickly typed in his name and easily found his profile. You weren’t sure if he had ever followed you, you hadn’t opened your instagram in a while even back when you had your phone and you couldn’t remember if you had received a notification from him. It did surprise you that he had not blocked you entirely though.

You looked through his page. It was filled with the typical selfies and artistic photos but that wasn’t what you were looking for. Your eyes landed on his profile icon, the pink and orange lining around it. Holding your breath you clicked on his story . The first slide was a picture of a sunset he had taken somewhere. He was sitting down with a paper cup in his hand.

The next slide made your heart sink.

It was a black screen with two prayer emojis on the center and your eyes quickly read over the caption underneath it.

‘update: my sister’s condition is now more stable but please continue to keep her in your thoughts & prayers. thank you for all your support, our family needs it right now.’

You let out a gasp, your face twisting in complete shock at what you were reading. This couldn’t be real. You looked over at how long ago he had posted it.

9 hours ago.

You didn’t move.

How long had his sister been in the hospital? What type of accident had she been in?

A tear slipped down your cheek as you thought about Jungkook’s words that day. What he had promised. Had he really done it? No.

No it couldn’t be right? Your breaths became more shallow as you tried to keep your emotions in check.

But why? Why would he do this after you begged him not to? To an innocent person? How could he have done this.

Had it really been him? You thought over the possibility of it being a pure coincidence. A tragic one but one that didn’t involve Jungkook at all. But even you weren’t that foolish to believe in his non-existent nobility.

He had done it. He had gone through with it.

A shuddering breath left you.

Indescribable terror shook you. Any sort of benefit of the doubt you had given Jungkook was now gone. Vanished completely. Your chains didn’t feel so invisible now with the knowledge that Jungkook had kept every promise.

“If you think I’m such a monster, I promise I will show you how easily I can make that come true for you. ”

Had he meant for you to find out?

Had he meant to hide it from you?

You really hated how you weren’t sure.

A door slammed shut.

You nearly fell off the chair by how much your body jolted.

Jungkook was back early.

—-

The am can not come faster because I need elaboration on Isagi reading fanfic over your shoulder and just fingering you

all the things you're thinking of | i. yoichi

✮ tags ; fem + afab!reader, established relationship, aged-up characters (they're in their early twenties), teasing, fingering, doggy-style, isagi is the slightest bit mean, reader like. masturbates in bed next to isagi but not indepth, mention of rough sex, the petname beautiful

✮ wc ; 3k (idk either)

✮ a/n ; isagi...hicc...sniff...i want ur dick so bad... wuh

✮ synopsis ; isagi thinks the porn comics you read on your phone are too interesting to ignore.

Isagi thinks your hobbies are cute.

He can't really follow along with them, though he does try his best. When Nagi comes over and the two of you have in-depth conversations about powers systems or scaling - most of it goes in one ear and out the other. He knows what things you like. Well enough, at least, to buy things for you overseas.

But he can't tell studios apart, and he doesn't know why you hate that one cat villager on your island so much apart from the fact he doesn't fit the vibe. All the same, he still follows along with you. He clumsily joins you when you watch things together and he's picked up a handful of series from your roster to talk about when it comes up in conversation.

Most of all, Isagi knows you like to read.

You never tell him what you're reading. He catches glimpses. You and Niko share interests in webcomics. But he knows there's other things that you're not too keen on sharing. And maybe he's too nosy for his own good, but you're always seem so glued to the screen. Always scrambling to put it away, ask him about his work.

It's cute, really. Whatever it is, he's not going to judge you.

Finding out you're reading graphically sexual content, however, does something to him he isn't all the way sure how to explain.

He knows it now. The face you make, though he doesn't think you know you're making it. You hide it well, it's almost impossible for him to gauge - except your breath hitches just a little and you fold in on yourself. You're engaged and sometimes, you chew the inside of your mouth before it gets to the end.

You always go back to talking to him like it's nothing. You'd probably insist it's nothing too. It's just something you like to look at from time to time.

But you read it so often. He'll wake up and catch you when you're not sleeping soundly next to him, eyes on the screen and legs held so tight together. You get tense. You toss and turn like you're debating it.

You've only ever masturbated about it once that Isagi knows. Did it quietly with your teeth in a pillow - a broken sigh leaving your mouth with relief. You washed your hands and went straight to sleep. Isagi stared at the ceiling with the worst hard-on he's ever had to endure in his life.

He's never brought it up to you because he's sure you'll be embarrassed. Until now, he didn't want to make you feel humiliated. You have nothing to be ashamed of, and he's not so inconsiderate to make you feel that.

But, it's been a busy week and he's pent up. You look cute laying in your shared bed, with your hair put up and your skin clean- phone away from him so he can't see the screen. He should be a little nicer to you about this.

Knowing that doesn't stop him. He stares at you from the doorway.

You put your phone down and he has to stop himself from smiling.

"Oh," Your voice is heavy with lust but it softens immediately "You ready for bed?"

"Mm," He yawns, coming around towards you. Lifting the sheets, he slides in bed next to you, immediately wrapping an arm around your waist with a deep sigh "Not feeling very tired today."

"Really? Practice normally sucks up all your energy."

He presses his nose to your neck and kisses the skin on your nape. "I got out of running the last round of drills 'cause I scored a bunch during practice matches."

You reach around behind him, softly petting his hair "Yeah? Good job, baby."

He could just initiate like this. You wouldn't turn him away. He feels bad for what he wants - particularly that he's wanting to humiliate you a bit.

Still. Just a little teasing shouldn't hurt.

"You can keep reading, you know." Isagi offers, forcing himself to relax "I don't mind."

You stiffen. Stutter as you open your mouth to say something.

"O-oh uh, no, it's fine."

"You sure? I don't wanna interrupt to you," He acts sincere. It's unkind to be like this towards you. "Plus, I'm curious what you're always reading."

"...It's nothing interesting." You assure. He hums.

"You always look so invested though." He pouts a little to cement it in. The heat crawls up your skin, and you squirm and Isagi can't help but goad you "Makes me curious. Is it something you can't show me?"

You freeze completely. He tightens the arm around your waist.

"Did I get that right?"

You seem like you catch on. Isagi has to keep himself form smiling as you squirm, turning just barely to look at him.

"Yoichi." You say, stern and shy and oh-so cute "Why're you..."

"I can't be curious?"

"Yoichi," You say again, whisper all soft and sweet. It's music to his ears, a tinge of embarrassment wrapped up neatly in a silent plea "When'd you find out?"

"That you read porn? A while ago." He tells you. You let out a noise of indignance, even try to crawl away. You fuss, and it's so lovely Isagi has a hard time controlling himself. He catches you before you can run away "I didn't say it was bad."

"It's embarassing. You should've pretend not to know."

"But it piqued my interest," He insists, whispering against the shell of your ear "Doesn't it bother you being left out to dry?"

"It's just fun to read, okay. Don't do this to me."

"Then you can keep reading it," He hums as slips an arm underneath you "Keep reading it."

"You're scheming."

"A little."

You pout, and turn your head to look at him. Isagi offers nothing but a pleasant grin. He kisses your temple first, then reaches to kiss your cheek - turns your head to kiss you soft and tender.

"Keep reading. I'll read with you."

Isagi nudges you and you sigh, but you pick up your phone. He sits quietly, chin over your shoulder - comfortably spooning you as you pick your phone back up and shuffle through Safari. You open up a website and do some scrolling before pulling up whatever you were just reading.

You're aware of him. Every few minutes, you'll glance at him over your shoulder but he keeps his eyes glued to your phone. It's a smut comic this time - not a story. It doesn't start as just porn, there's something going on in the plot that Isagi pays attention too.

It gets there though. Isagi watches as it plays out, looking at your expression in the white reflection of your phone. You're fixed to it. He laughs to himself. You were so shy a minute ago, but you're sucked in. The girl in the comics is getting groped. So he hums, sliding his palm against your hips before reaching up under your shirt.

He slides both hands under you as he touches you - fingers reaching up to squeeze the fat of your tits. They're soft and warm, and you react to him but not enough to stop reading. He rolls your nipples with his thumb and forefinger, listening to you whimper. You're still focused on it, almost even more than you were a minute ago.

But you look like you're seconds away from having your eyes crossed - so Isagi doesn't bother moving on. He likes the way you feel in his hands. Round curves that fit so perfectly for him. He squeezes and pushes them together, pinching. You whine pleasantly, scrolling a little slower than before.

"Yoichi," You huff, rubbing your cheek against the sheets "C'mon."

"You want more? We're not there yet, though?"

You keep reading instead of protesting, and he follows in pace. Mimics what happens on screen by letting his hand past the waistband of your shorts. He slides his fingers against and through your folds - rubs gently around where you need to be touched until you're pushing back into him. You still haven't fixed your mouth to whine, still being diligent.

You both read as it happens. The girl in the story gets teased, so Isagi teases you.

"You're soaking wet," He says, unscripted and sincere "Didn't know you were so lewd."

"I'm not. You're touching me, so obviously"

"You'd be wet even if I wasn't touching you though, right?" He hums, a smugness even he can hear as he toys with you "Is this what you like reading? He's being so forceful."

"I-it's other stuff too. I read other, hnggh."

Ah, he's being mean isn't he? He can't help it though. Your eyes are fluttery, and you react so well. He lets his middle finger slide along your clit, rubbing soft and slow and delicate. He takes you apart with ease and you succumb to it even easier. He doesn't get to do this often. Catch you off guard and overwhelm you so easily. You don't waver like this almost ever.

But he kind of wishes you did. You look so good when you're like this. Embarrassed and on edge and needy. He likes to the way you can't help it.

"Don't hold it in, you can be honest with me." He insists, because some part of him really is curious "What other stuff? You read lovey-dovey stuff too?"

You don't reply. He shakes his head.

"I'll stop if you don't tell me."

"You're being awful."

He would say sorry but he doesn't mean it. He sucks on your neck, teeth grazing the skin as he rubs your clit - just barely there. Not enough to get you where you want, but enough to make you want more.

"Tell me."

So you yield "T-that stuff too. Doesn't matter, I just—"

"You just like seeing cute girls get fucked and thinking about it being you?"

"You're saying too much." You warn, but it doesn't feel meaningful. You say it through a broken moan, a sweet little plea. His dick is twitching so hard it almost hurts. You're insides are soft and melty and your voice is thick and you're so fucking cute. "It's not l-like that."

"It's okay if it is," He offers, not really listening. You're still holding the phone but you're eyes are closed "But you should tell me, hm? I'm your boyfriend, it's what I'm good for."

"Why're you bein' like this?" You sound sniffly. He's a terrible guy. Really. He grins.

"I think you're cute. It's nothing bad." He insists, thoughtfully. He rubs your clit a little harder, a little more sharp and you open your mouth wide and shake "You get turned on all by yourself, so I'm punishing you? Something like that."

"You're so cunning."

"You like that about me."

He smiles when you smile begrudgingly.

"Only sometimes."

"Keep reading. I'm interested in the story."

He's not lying completely. But he's more interested in the fact you get so into it. You listen well when he touches you and he rewards you for your compliance. He'll stop if you're too unfocused and you're too needy to do that to yourself. So you try to go slow enough so it seems like you're reading, but your hand keeps trembling when you hold the phone.

You're wound tight, and Isagi wonders if you might cry like this. A part of him wants to see if he can make you. He shouldn't do that though. He should be kind the whole way through.

He slips his hand down lower, middle finger prodding at your entrance. They're moving onto penetration in the comic you're reading, plenty of lewd and well-shaded shots mixed with different sounds typed out. You're getting all doe-eyed again, almost voracious as you consume. He lets his middle finger slip inside of you slow, pushing in so he reaches the base of his knuckle before pulling back out.

When you're loose like that, he gives you another. This much he's used to. He knows how much he needs to prep you before he can fuck you, but today he's taking his time. Stretching you out slowly and carefully, deliberately as you watch with anticipation.

Two fingers deep, he curls his fingers up and caresses slowly. They're doing it from behind on the screen. Isagi hums.

"Should we do it like that? From behind?"

"Hngh, I d-dont know. I dunno."

"She's liking it. You like being fucked like that too, right?"

"Yoichi,"

It's not nice. He keeps reminding himself. But he can't help but fuck his fingers into you deeper, just like this. You're gripping your phone so tight but he almost wants to slip just so he can tease you about it. So horny you can't control yourself, can you? You can't even think straight. Can't keep it together enough to do something so simple.

It's not like Isagi is particular to needless bullying. Unless he's playing soccer, he's always a good guy. A nice boyfriend if nothing else. It's not something he even has to try at.

But watching you like this makes him wonder if maybe he's less of a good guy than he though. Each little reaction he pulls out of you makes him want to tease you more. You'd look cute getting fucked face-down, too. Anything you do endears him so much he can't stand it.

Your pussy, soft and supple, is almost begging for him. He likes that you can get like that.

"Is that you what you want? You have to tell me, okay? I can't read your mind. That'd be nice."

"Stop talking and do it already."

"Do what?"

"Fuck me."

He grins, really feeling sorry as he pulls his fingers away from you.

"Yeah, yeah. Took too long right? My bad. C'mon. Bend over for me,"

Watching you listen is cute too. Your shirt is half up as you position yourself, rolling over on your stomach before pushing up on your knees - arms out in front of you and perched over your perfectly. Isagi thinks it's a miracle only possible through some higher power to be dating you. It's driving him insane, the soft arch of your back and the curve of your ass - skin peeking through the bottom of your shorts. Soft tits pushed into the mattress below you, cheek against the pillow.

He swallows, positioning himself behind you before pulling your ass to his pelvis. You shudder.

"You make me so hard." He says, earnest.

"You're really turned on by this?"

He laughs, rutting into you as he holds your hips. The view of your ass like this is almost too much.

"Most guys would be turned on by this. It's cute."

"You're extra annoying today." You say. Isagi leans over to kiss you as gently as he can before you really get angry at him.

"Sorry. Maybe I'm hanging out with Bachira too much."

You don't exchange any more words. Isagi slides your shorts off just enough to get access, slipping his fingers to make sure you're still loose. He spits into the palm of his hand, rubbing his shaft until it's wet before grabbing hold you by your hips. He lets the tip rest against your folds before pushing in so slowly.

No matter how many times you do this, this part always makes him want to cum right away. Pushing into something so soft and so pliant makes his brain feel like it'll pour right out of him. He shudders, nails digging into your hips as you swallow his cock so eagerly. He groans, resting his head on your shoulder.

"So wet. Ngh, so tight. You're so sexy."

"You've teased me enough today. Fuck me or I'm gonna get mad."

"Anything for you my love."

Per your request, he pulls out in one swift motion before forcing himself back in. You groan as you fall forward, face buried in the sheets. He can feel how close you are like this. It's warm inside you. He steadies himself by holding you before setting a pace - a little faster and a little deeper than usual. After all the teasing he thinks he owes you this much and you take him so well, he's mesmerized.

The way you stretch around him, the soft drag of his tip against your walls. "This what you wanted?" He says, adding a little venom to his voice just to mess with you "Wanted me to fuck you nice and deep?"

You whimper his name and he feels his spine tingle, adrenaline rushing through his whole body. It feels like you're made for him like this, your whole body reacting to his. He reaches around your waist, fingers teasing your clit. That makes you cry out, ragged with need.

"That's it, there you go. Isn't it nice getting what you want? Instead of letting your head fill with it all day."

"Uh-uh, uh - 's good. Feels good, Yoichi."

Your response almost makes him stumble. He lets out a huff of air through his teeth.

"Unfair."

You laugh lightly, peeking at him over your shoulder as he fucks you.

"You started it."

Something in his chest squeezes as he bends over you, focusing all of his energy into fucking you just how you need. He can feel your insides start to tremble, a grin breaking out on his face.

"Need you to cum for me. Cum for me, beautiful, c'mon."

The warning comes out spliced before you push all the way back on Isagi and cum. He can feel you pulse around his cock and he only gets a few thrusts in before joining you. He paints your insides white, leaving himself buried as he fucks you through your high and the two of you fall flat on the bed

He pulls out softly, before you turn back down and lay next to him like before. You face him this time, grabbing his face in your hands and kissing him hard. It catches him by surprised.

"I'm forgiving you this time because it was hot but if you ever embarrass me like that again, I'll kill you."

He laughs, returning the gesture.

"No promises."

𝐓𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐎 ⋮ 𝐁𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐆𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈.

bakugou is six when you confidently tell him you’ll marry him, a giggly little toothy grin on your face as you hand him a flower.

“kacchan, one day we’ll get married,” you announce, and then you lean in, planting a soft kiss to his cheek.

he thinks his world just about stops for a moment.

but then he hears a snicker from the behind, and then another, and another—and suddenly he remembers his friends that are watching, a scowl quickly painting over his face as he grimaces.

“gross,” he grumbles, “i’m not marrying you,” he huffs, swiftly turning around and leaving you on your own.

he pretends like he’s forgotten the flower in his hand is still there, that he doesn’t hear you yell, “oh yes you will!” after him as he fights off the blush dusting across his face.

——————————

“you know, i do hate to say i told you so, but—”

“don’t,” bakugou grumbles, cutting you off. and something in his tone tells you he already knows what you’re going to say.

a small part of him is fond of the little memory, happy that things turned out just as you predicted—another part hates you’re about to tease him mercilessly.

“—but i did tell you so,” you grin, staring at the ring on your hand happily, wriggling your fingers to watch it glimmer in your dimly lit bedroom as moonlight pours through the window. you feel the rumble of his chest under your cheek as he grunts, shuffling closer as you lay your ring clad hand on his sternum.

“you never fuckin’ stop talking, do you?” he mutters, but his arm curls around you tighter.

bakugou thinks he’s spent the greater part of his life trying to get better, to be better—he almost forgets that sometimes, he can be just enough as is. and he thinks he always has been with you, worthy of your six year old hand in marriage even as he left you all alone at the sandbox, worthy of your saccharine smile and melodic laugh even as he pushes past you for years and years on end.

and sometimes, when the weight on his chest becomes too much, he almost forgets you’re all he really needs to breathe.

“i would never pass up a chance to tell sir dynamight ‘i told you so’,” you giggle, poking his cheek as he groans. he flicks your forehead, but there’s a slight wobble to his lips as he fights back a fond grin.

“quit callin’ me that, you sound like an idiot,” he scoffs. your finger traces a small heart across his cheek, and he snorts at the cheesiness. “marrying you’s a bad fuckin’ decision,” he sighs.

“hey,” you pout, “that’s rude. we haven’t even been engaged for a full day yet.”

“i don’t know if i’ll make it a full day as your fiancé.”

“aw, katsuki,” you drawl, planting a loud, wet kiss to his jaw, pinching his cheek as he swats your hand away with a scowl, “you can’t wait a whole day, huh? wanna get married that fast?” you tease through wriggled brows.

he wonders what prompted him to buy the ring in the first place.

“don’t flatter yourself,” he huffs flatly.

“well, we can’t elope,” you hum, and by now, your finger has settled for tracing meaningless patterns over his chest, gently running over the skin as his heart beats under your touch. “your mom would kill you if she didn’t get a wedding.”

“hate to break it to you, babe,” he smirks, pinching the tip of your nose playfully as he chuckles, “but marrying me means you’re apart of the bakugou family—so now you gotta feel the old hag’s wrath too. just like the rest of us.”

“nuh uh, i’m too cute,” you argue. it’s silent, and then he lets out a snort before he rolls his eyes, pressing a soft peck to your forehead—and it’s almost his silent way of agreeing.

“you’re trouble ‘s what you are,” he mutters. you hum, smiling thoughtfully, soft, gentle.

he wonders if he’ll ever fully deserve it.

“are you excited?” you murmur, cheek pressing further against his chest as you shuffle closer.

bakugou swallows for a moment. and it should be an easy question to answer—he doesn’t think he’s ever been more excited for something in his life before. not graduating, not going pro, not starting his agency, not even your first date (and you both still pretend he didn’t accidentally blow up the stems of the flowers he got you through sweaty palms.)

he feels his chest grow heavy, the weight of his emotions too much for him to comprehend, and he finds he’s still tumbling down the road of getting better—of being better. but then you kiss his chest under your cheek, and it’s easy to breathe again.

and he’s enough as is—always has been, always will be. your hand, the same hand that you promised him marriage with at six years old, grabs his and entwines your fingers together, and he thinks maybe being better shouldn’t be hard if you walk with him down the road right by his side.

“six year old me would throw a fit,” he mumbles instead, but he knows you have your answer when you giggle.

“six year old me would also say i told you so.”

“‘course you would,” he snorts, and then he tilts your jaw up and kisses your lips like he means it.

and bakugou katsuki, as his thumb runs over your cheek softly, like he’s holding the world in his hands and standing with the sun under his feet, can’t wait to kiss you on your wedding day.

© hanmas do not plagiarize, repost, translate to other sites, or recommend on platforms outside tumblr such as tik tok

PLAYING PRETEND ⋆✦⋆ bokuto koutaro

synopsis ➸ you’ve been the one to help bokuto out of tight situations all your life, but now he’s put you in the toughest spot yet. with his team eager to meet the girl he’s “been dating for years,” you’ll have to pull off the act of a lifetime—and bokuto’s loving every second of it.

tags ➸ childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining, posséssive behavior, fluff, praise kínk, semi-public, heavy petting, dírty talking, cunniłingus, unprotécted séx, overstimúlation, manhándling

wc ➸ 25.3k (i’m sorry i’m reverting back to writing lengthier stuff)

You groaned as the shrill trilling of your phone cleaved through the velvety silence of the night like a fog horn. A glance at the display confirmed it was well past midnight - definitely past any reasonable hour for civil human interaction. Only one person would have the audacity to disturb your slumber at this ungodly hour.

Squinting against the harsh LED glare, you felt your lips tug into a disgruntled frown as Bokuto's stupid, gorgeous face filled the screen. Of course he wasn't just calling - the human embodiment of chaos always insisted on FaceTiming, never content until he could fully bombard you with his exaggerated expressions and mile-a-minute vocal acrobatics.

"For the love of God, Bokuto..." you grumbled, scrubbing the heel of your palm across your bleary eyes as you accepted the call with a resigned tap. "This had better involve a level four or higher crisis, otherwise I'm finding flight details to drop-kick you into the nearest active volcanooooohhh my god, what is that look?"

Through the slightly grainy camera feed, Bokuto's distinctive gold-colored irises blew wide in a parody of theatric innocence, chin already trembling precariously as he arranged his cherubic features into that impossibly pathetic pout he knew you were powerless against. The disarming effect was only amplified by the casual tangle of silvery-streaked locks framing his visage and the oversized tee riding low enough to showcase the sinewy definition of his bare collarbones.

"Don't give me that look, I know exactly what you're doing," you fired back, squaring your shoulders in a valiant effort at steeling your defenses against the impending barrage of whining and guilt-tripping sure to come. "There's no crisis dire enough to justify you faceplanting into my DMs looking like...like that at this time of night."

"C'monnnn, don't be so grumpy!" Bokuto whined, the faintest hint of a whine already creeping into his dulcet tones as he blinked those ridiculously long, feathery lashes up at you from beneath the messy sheaf of pale fringe draping across his brow. "I just really needed to see my favorite person in the whole wide world's pretty face, that's all! Is that so wrong of me?"

You snorted at the blatant placation attempt even as you felt your initial irritation softening fractionally against your will. Leave it to Bokuto to put that honeyed-rasp of a voice and those achingly earnest puppy-dog peepers to devastating use from the get-go.

"Spare me the nauseating theatrics, Bo," you deadpanned, shaking your head in exaggerated exasperation. "You and I both know there's approximately a zero percent chance you'd willingly go this long without demanding my undivided attention for some fresh nonsense."

Bokuto's boyishly handsome features scrunched into an exaggerated pout at your bald-faced dismissals, all put-upon petulance and ruffled feathers in a display so quintessentially 'him' that you couldn't quite fight off the warm fluttering taking up residence in your chest. The sort of helpless, reflexive fondness you could only ever seem to muster for this unrepentant goof of a human being.

"Aww, but I'm being so good tonight!" He pressed out his lower lip even further, fluttering those damnable lashes until they practically bristled. "I haven't even mentioned how distracting my butt looked in those new compression shorts for our last game, have I?"

You choked on a startled bark of laughter at that before quickly stifling the sound, eyes sparking in a fresh blaze of undisguised amusement as you shook your head.

"And just like that, we're officially off the rails into Bokuto Chaos Territory. Well done, dude - solid fifteen-second delay on taking us there this time! I think that's a new record for you."

Grinning unabashedly now, Bokuto simply shrugged those broad shoulders in an artfully cavalier manner. It was impossible to miss the way the fabric of his shirt pulled taut across the impressively sculpted contours in the process - evidence of the punishing regimen his role as a professional athlete now demanded. But the undeniably roguish flare of his smirk ensured you had no doubts as to whether he was entirely aware of the effect he was having.

"What can I say? I aim t'please - especially you, babe. You know you're the only woman I'll ever willingly melt for like this."

The wink he punctuated that observation with - sly and effortlessly charming – nearly caused you to swallow your own tongue as you choked on an incoherent grumble of chiding. But he was already pressing on before you could formulate an appropriately withering rejoinder, all boyish eagerness and showman's flair.

"Listen, I wouldn't have dared to disturb the beauty regimen of the literal love of my life except this is an official, code red, four-alarm crisis in desperate need of your guidance!"

You sighed through your nose, squeezing the bridge of it between your thumb and forefinger in a futile bid at staving off the headache you could already feel brewing between your temples. Right, because of course this was all leading toward one of Bokuto's utterly absurd requests inevitably spiraling out to cosmic levels of mayhem and chaos. As usual.

"Fine," you grunted in feigned resignation, locking eyes with his screen depiction. You felt another small thrill at the sight of him leaning in hungrily, clearly hanging on your every word and reaction. "Go ahead and lay this so-called 'crisis' on me, Koutaro - just try to be slightly more coherent with the details this time. I'm fresh out of patience for wading through your usual mile-a-minute mouth dribbling tonight."

The mirth swiftly drained from Bokuto's expression at your gruff demand, his handsome features crumpling like a deflated balloon. You immediately recognized the telltale signs - lips pursing into a mulish downward curl, shoulders slumping heavily, those normally vibrant eyes going dull and shuttered.

"Uh oh, looks like someone's Emo Mode is kicking in early tonight," you drawled, unable to resist prodding that particular bear just a little. "Whatever could have trampled all over your sunshine-y disposition this time, hm?"

Bokuto fidgeted, worrying his full lower lip between rows of straight white teeth. His gaze skittered away from the camera, drifting somewhere over your shoulder before finally returning to pin you with an unmistakably stricken look.

"It's really bad this time, okay?" His voice emerged hushed, raspy in a way that plucked straight at the protective heartstrings you'd carried for him since childhood. "I did something incredibly stupid, and now I desperately need you to agree to an absolutely massive favor to get me out of the hole I've dug myself into."

You arched one eyebrow coolly, regarding him through narrow slits of growing exasperation. This was hardly the first instance of Bokuto landing himself up shit creek without a paddle thanks to his penchant for reckless word-vomiting. More often than not, you found yourself recruited into whatever foolish messes he stumbled into like a moderating life raft, tasked with the unenviable job of buffering the chaos and keeping him tethered to reality before everything went utterly pear-shaped.

"Lay it on me then. Can't be any worse than that time you convinced half the Fukurodani squad you were an actual descendant of Athena and could communicate with barn owls telepathically."

Your words seemed to jog something in Bokuto's prodigious memory, because he instantly bristled with an affronted squawk.

"Hey, that wasn't all my fault and you know it! Yukippe is the one who planted that stupid seed in my head about having 'superior avian DNA' or whatever!"

You shrugged one shoulder indolently, the ghost of a taunting smile playing about the corners of your mouth as you drank in the chagrined flush stealing across Bokuto's cheekbones. For all his blustering displays of hot-blooded machismo, the guy was still just an overgrown kid at heart - so delightfully easy to fluster when called out on his adorably skewed flights of fancy.

"Sure, sure. And I suppose she's also responsible for you spending three straight months insisting we all address you as 'Grand Duke Koutarov' until Akaashi finally caught you raiding the home ec kitchen for expired bird seed?"

The sheepish chuckle that rumbled from Bokuto's throat in response was answer enough. You smirked, satisfaction curling hot in your belly at having seized the teasing ground even as he attempted to rally with one of those boyish pouts specifically engineered to bend you to his whims.

"Okayyyyy, maybe that one got a little out of hand," he hedged slowly, raking one hand through the wild thatch of salt-and-pepper locks tumbling into his eyes. The motion only made him look more adorably tousled and inviting - lush mouth slack and bee-stung, those biceps cording with well-trained definition beneath the snug fabric of his worn tee.

Not for the first time, you found yourself dragging your attention away from dissecting every arresting detail of him with conscious effort. A futile battle, that, as your eyes were perpetually drawn back to mapping those razor-sharp cheekbones and heavy-lidded bedroom stare with undisguised appreciation.

Friends you might be, but you'd have to be legally brain-dead to somehow miss just how devastatingly, panty-scramblingly gorgeous Bokuto Kotaro had become with age and athletic refinement. The thought caused a sudden flush of warmth to bloom beneath your chest, accompanied by a series of highly unbecoming images you swiftly banished to some dark, neglected recess of your mind.

"But this is way worse than any of that stuff, I swear!" Bokuto pressed ahead with renewed urgency. The slight wheeze of desperation underpinning his words was enough to snare your focus anew, brow furrowing in spite of your attempts at preserving a lofty detachment. "The guys on my team, the Jackals...they've been giving me so much shit lately about never having had a serious girlfriend before. Just relentlessly harassing me over being some kinda hopeless bachelor still at my age."

You rolled your eyes at that, already feeling a fresh swell of exasperation mounting as you sensed where this was likely headed. Of course the emotionally stunted jock culture surrounding professional sports would latch onto something as childishly reductive as romantic experience to rag on one of their star players about.

"So let me guess," you cut in dryly before Bokuto could really get the waterworks flowing in full force. "Rather than taking the high road or simply telling your idiot teammates to mind their own business, you decided to spice things up by dumping out some fresh batches of bullshit instead, right? Claimed you've secretly been in a torrid love affair for years with some lucky mystery woman to get them off your back?"

As the words left your lips, Bokuto's expression morphed into one of comically exaggerated horror - liquid mercury irises blowing wide until they seemed to compose nearly the entirety of his face, plush mouth dropping open in a strangled uh wuh uh noise of shocked dismay. You snorted indelicately at the sight, rapping one knuckle against the screen in a chiding gesture.

"Bingo," you crooned with a roll of your eyes, already sensing the meltdown rapidly reaching critical mass. "God, for an actual adult who's supposed to be the shining beacon on an internationally ranked sports franchise, you can be such an utter child sometimes."

Bokuto gaped at you for a long stretch of incredulous silence before finally seeming to recapture the power of speech, sputtering and flailing his way back onto what you assumed was meant to be some sort of defensive tack.

"How-how do you always just...just know me so freakishly well like this?!" He threw up his hands in an explosive burst of frustration, hair flying in wild disarray with the sudden motion. "I haven't even told you the critical details yet and you're already riding my case like some omniscient psychic dictator! It's almost scary how well you've got me pegged after all these years, babe."

Despite his blustery indignation, you easily detected the undercurrent of fondness that lurked just beneath the gruff protestations. Hell, you'd have to be utterly dense not to pick up on just how much your longtime connection meant to the human embodiment of chaos currently squirming under your scrutiny.

"First of all, take about five deep breaths and quit channeling that patented 'Emo Mode' overdrive of yours," you instructed crisply, leaning back against the pillows to better regard him with a level stare. "All that over-emoting is going to cook off what few functioning brain cells you've got left at this rate, Bo."

Bokuto opened his mouth - no doubt to argue that exact point – but swiftly snapped it shut again at your quelling look. He visibly swallowed...then complied, sucking down several exaggerated gulps of air that expanded his powerful chest and slumped shoulders with each shallow inhalation. Already, you could see some of the manic desperation smoothing from the sharp angles of his face, tension ebbing in miniscule increments the longer you allowed the silence between you both to linger.

"Good, much better," you praised at last when his expression had notched back down to something closer to his normal temperature. "Now lay it all out for me plainly, why don't you? What exactly did you tell your poor, misguided teammates that has you desperately calling me at...three in the morning, completely hysterical?"

There was a beat of anticipatory pause where Bokuto seemed to wordlessly gather his bearings. Then, summoning his courage, he finally raised those golden irises to yours again with an earnestness that had your breath catching somewhere beneath your breastbone.

"Okay, look...I may have...possibly...kinda told them all that I've been secretly dating you for a couple years now?"

You stared at Bokuto in stunned silence, letting the weight of his admission fully sink in. He'd told his professional volleyball teammates...that you two were secretly dating? A sort of disbelieving laugh bubbled up from your chest.

"You're joking, right? Please tell me you're joking and just messing with me like usual."

But the sheepish expression on Bokuto's face said it all. He rubbed at the back of his neck, unable to meet your incredulous gaze through the camera.

"I really wish I was..." he mumbled, mouth turned down in an exaggerated pout that bordered on what you recognized as his "Emo Mode" warning signs. "The guys just wouldn't let up about my love life - or total lack thereof. One thing led to another and the next thing I knew, I was telling them about this totally real, super serious girlfriend I've been dating on the down-low for years now."

You pinched the bridge of your nose, feeling the first stirrings of a tension headache coming on. Classic Bokuto - always digging himself into unnecessary holes without a second thought.

"And let me guess," you said dryly. "This 'totally real, super serious girlfriend' you claimed to have just happened to be me?"

Bokuto's eyes went wide and pleading, somehow making himself look even more pitiful through the camera lens.

"Who else was I gonna say, babe?" His voice took on that unmistakable wheedling tone you knew all too well. "You're, like, the only lady I know, apart from my mom. We've been thicker than thieves since we were little kids! You really think I'd name some random chick as my ride-or-die when we both know you're the only woman on this entire planet I'd ever trust with that kinda responsibility?"

You tried to keep your expression impassive, but felt your resolve slipping at the naked earnestness shining in those gold-colored eyes. Bokuto always had been able to worm his way under your skin with surprising ease, toeing the line between charming vulnerability and outright manipulation like a goddamn artiste.

"Using our friendship as an excuse for your latest boneheaded move is pretty low, even for you," you chided, though the words lacked any real bite.

Bokuto barreled on before you could properly muster your scolding, somehow managing to crank the pathos up even higher.

"C'mon, c'mon, just hear me out here! There's no way I'da thrown some poor, unsuspecting lady's name under the bus for the guys to make fun of her." His eyes took on a sudden, almost manic gleam as another thought seemed to occur to him. "And you already know how they are - if I didn't give them someone real to gossip about, those vultures would've grilled me to the bone over making up some imaginary chick!"

You opened your mouth, ready to eviscerate him over that particularly glaring logical leap, but he didn't give you the chance. The words started spilling from Bokuto's lips like an uncorked geyser.

"Not to mention that if it wasn't you, they one-hundred percent would've demanded I get this supposed lady-friend of mine to official team events and stuff!" Golden eyes went comically wide, imploring you to see reason. "Can you even imagine how awkward and horrible that would've been, lying through my teeth about dating some poor random civilian and then trying to drag her into all our invasive professional shit?? You'd have murdered me for real if I did that to somebody, babe!"

He paused just long enough to suck down a deep gulp of breath, one calloused palm reaching up to rake back the artfully tousled strands of sweat-damp hair falling across his forehead. Somehow, the simple grooming motion only amplified the artfully-mussed air of boyish charisma and vulnerability Bokuto seemed to effortlessly exude like a damn cologne. You felt your mouth go suddenly dry at the sight as he continued in a softer, more entreating register.

"What was I supposed to do, babe? You know you're the only girl in my life I'd ever feel comfortable dragging into this craziness like that. The guys already give me no end of shit, but at least with you they'd know not to push too far with the comments or disrespect." His lips quirked in a small, wry smile that made your heart perform an honest-to-god pitter-pat against your ribcage. "I mean, you'd probably terrify them into proper behavior after one glance if we're being real here."

You snorted indelicately at that, mostly just to disguise the way your pulse had kicked up a notch as his familiar charm offensive slowly wormed its way beneath your defenses. He grinned back at you - all warm affection and playful mirth...right up until that smile faltered around the edges and his gaze abruptly dropped from yours.

"But if you're, like...actually bothered by me using your name like that, I totally understan-"

"Oh, can it with the sad puppy-dog eyes and simpering theatrics," you found yourself grumbling before Bokuto could fully launch into another one of his patented shame-spirals. He immediately brightened, head snapping back up to refocus on you through the screens with obvious delight.

"Wait, so does this mean...?"

You threw up your hands in a decidedly unladylike display of exasperation. "I'm saying I'll play along with your latest bout of delirious self-sabotage for now, sure. God only knows what fresh nightmare I'd be signing myself up for if I left you to flail and sink on this one alone."

Bokuto was already vibrating with unconstrained jubilation, though you tried to press on before he could properly erupt into loud celebrations.

"But hear me loud and clear on this part, Koutaro - the last time I cover for one of your fabrication frenzies, you got it? Because I sure as shit am not dealing with any awkward, 'oh golly, this is my pretend girlfriend I've been lying to everyone about' meetups with your teammates or anyone else. This ends with our weird little charade and that's it, understood?"

Even as you were voicing that hard ultimatum, you could already feel your sternness weakening in the face of Bokuto's uninhibited excitement. The man was literally glowing at you through the screen - all sunshine smile, glittering eyes radiating fondness and affection with every ounce of his focus zeroed in on drinking in your gruff rebukes like they were the sweetest poetry ever composed. Despite yourself, you felt that now-familiar fluttering sensation begin to bloom behind your breastbone anew at the rapt, unrestrained devotion he aimed in your direction so effortlessly. Like you were the only other person in his entire universe.

So when he nodded enthusiastically, looking for all the world like an eager golden retriever puppy receiving head scritches from its favorite human, you couldn't quite summon the full breadth of your usual scolding.

"You got it, you got it! I swear on every last possession and ounce of pride remaining to my name, this is just going to be a one-time, little white lie to get the guys off my back!" Bokuto was positively effervescent now, eyes sparkling with mischief and adrenaline at having already begun plotting multiple steps ahead as usual. "Though... now that you've agreed to go along for the ride, I guess there is one more little, tiny, easily accomplished favor I'll need to cash in from my self-proclaimed partner-in-chaotic-crimes..."

You eyed him warily even as your stomach performed a telltale swoop of premature trepidation. "I'm already regretting this, but go ahead - lay it on me. What fresh hell am I signing up for this time?"

The roguish wink and toothy grin Bokuto flashed you in response sucked the air directly from your lungs. For an eternally suspended breath, he simply let the moment stew and thicken before finally detonating the words you already knew would irrevocably spell your ruination.

"So...how'd you feel about joining me, Tsumu, Shoyo, and Omi-Omi for a fancy team dinner out next weekend—?"

"Absolutely not!" The words burst from your lips before you could even fully process the audacity of Bokuto's latest request. "There's no way in hell I'm putting myself through that kind of awkward third-degree just so you can perpetuate this little white lie further, Bo."

Bokuto's sunny expression immediately crumpled into one of theatric dismay, liquid gold irises going wide and pleading in that sickeningly effective way of his. You simply shook your head, mouth set in a flat line of adamant refusal as you held up a forestalling hand.

"Don't even try hitting me with those ridiculous puppy-dog peepers, you manipulative little gremlin. Your jackass teammates already know me as the surly old friend who's been putting up with your chaos since we were literal children together." You arched one pointed brow at him through the camera. "What exactly do you think their reactions are gonna be when I waltz in playing the part of your supposedly super-serious, ultra-intimate girlfriend persona you've been feeding them? Use those last few functional brain cells you've got left for once, dude."

Bokuto gnawed petulantly on his plump lower lip, handsome features scrunching into an exaggerated pout that did absolutely nothing to diminish his patently boyish appeal. If anything, the calculated vulnerability he projected with those mannerisms only seemed to amplify the sudden, hot flare of inappropriate interest smoldering low in your belly.

"They don't know the half of how...intensely close we really are, though," he wheedled, giving you pause with the obvious implication woven into those words.

You swallowed hard, mouth abruptly dry as cotton at the unexpected suggestiveness suffusing his tone. Your eyes raked helplessly over the screen, tracing the sharp vee of Bokuto's collarbones where they strained against the stretched collar of his shirt, the corded definition of his biceps cradling the phone like they were specifically designed to wrap around something far more...intimate.

"I m-mean," he stammered on with a sheepish chuckle, one hand darting up to scrub the wild thatch of silver and onyx locks into even further disarray. "Based on what I've been...embellishing for them, my so-called girlfriend and I are pretty uh...physical? Active? In that department, if y'know what I mean."

The hot flush you felt crawling up the back of your neck at his unsubtle insinuation could have seared flesh from bone. Still, you refused to allow Bokuto the satisfaction of giving in so easily, straightening your shoulders in a determined facade of composure.

"That's exactly why I'm not indulging this latest bout of lunacy any further, Koutaro. I know you - which means I know for a fact there's no line of depraved fabrication you wouldn't eagerly blur or outright barrel straight past when it comes to spinning wild fantasies these days." You aimed a narrow look at him through your lashes. "So spare me any further salacious teasers or implications about what sort of freaky role-play scenarios you might have regaled your poor teammates with already. I don't need those kinds of visuals seared onto my mind permanently."

A brief look of consternation flickered across Bokuto's handsome features at your rather forceful shutdown there. But he seemed to rally almost immediately, scooting forward until his face practically devoured the entire screen in an ill-advised attempt at looking more earnest and irresistible. The heavy-lidded effect it lent to those simmering, golden eyes only succeeded in stoking the inner maelstrom of conflict currently churning through your abdomen.

"C'mon, babe...Please?" The entreaty emerged with such unguarded sincerity and naked vulnerability that you felt your adamant refusals swiftly begin to buckle. "I wouldn't ask this of you if it wasn't absolutely dire, I swear! Those jackasses are going to eat me alive if I don't produce something to substantiate at least part of my tall tales soon. And after all these years, you know damn well you're the only person in this whole world I'd ever trust to have my back like this!"

When you simply held his intent stare in stubborn silence, Bokuto seemed to deflate slightly. His shoulders slumped, that full lower lip jutting out in an incredibly unbecoming - or was it terribly, inappropriately appealing? - pout.

"Please, kitten?" The pet name, coupled with the raw sincerity radiating from every pore of his being in that instant, punched straight through your defenses like they were wet cardboard. "For your old buddy Bo? Just this once, I swear..."

You swore your heart actually stopped beating for a solid ten seconds. That ridiculously saccharine, syrupy endearment falling from Bokuto's lips and somehow managing to ooze so much implicit affection and warmth...it was like he'd detonated some sort of primal hormone bomb deep within your limbic system. All rational thought processes slammed to a screeching halt as you tried and failed to parse how or why those two simple, nonsensical syllables could fill you with such molten, unfettered want in the span of a single heartbeat.

Bokuto must have easily misread the stunned silence gripping you in that moment, because his expression slowly collapsed towards utter dejection. As he hunched over and prepared to cut the video call short in obvious defeat, you finally found your voice again.

"Hold your horses there, Casanova," you bit out in a strained rasp, startling his forlorn gaze back up to the screen. "I didn't actually say no yet, did I now?"

His eyes went comically wide at your admission, lips parting in a silent 'oh' of surprise. You sighed heavily, already resigning yourself to the inevitable as you pressed onward.

"Give me one good reason why I should bother indulging this charade, and I'll..." Your throat clicked in a convulsive swallow. "I'll consider going along with whatever fresh hell you've cooked up this time. But I want the full, unvarnished truth - no more cutesy lies or dodging around shit. You got me?"

Bokuto nodded so vigorously for a moment you were concerned he might give himself whiplash. The hand not clutching his phone immediately lifted to rake back through his hair again, leaving the sweat-damp tendrils in a state of wild disarray. You had a sudden, visceral vision of your own fingers tunneling through those tantalizingly mussed silver strands, nails lightly scoring his scalp and sending delicious shudders ricocheting down his powerful frame.

"Okay, honesty, got it." He seemed to collect himself with a series of bracing breaths before locking you with that same earnest, searingly direct look from before. "The truth is, having you there - even just as some goofy pretend girlfriend prop - would make this so much more bearable for me. Those guys on my team...they don't pull any punches when it comes to the trash talk and digs, y'know?"

Something inside you twisted at the uncharacteristic thread of insecurity lacing Bokuto's low timbre just then. You could picture it all too vividly - the sorts of crass ribbing and vulgar teasing a pack of hypercompetitive athletes on the same professional team could devolve into. Especially directed towards the raw nerve that was Bokuto's conspicuous lack of any legitimate romantic experiences. It was the sort of environment that could swiftly become brutally emasculating and toxic for a sensitive soul like his.

"But with you there?" Bokuto's gorgeous eyes crinkled at the corners as a secret, unguarded smile tugged at one side of his sinful mouth. "They'd never dream of trying to back me into a corner or single me out for too much ridicule, babe. Not with the infamous 'queen of cutting a bitch' herself standing guard, no sir."

You narrowed your eyes, ignoring the sudden pang of flattery blossoming unexpectedly in your chest at the open admiration in his tone.

"So that's it? You just want me there as some sort of human shield to keep your idiot teammates from teasing you too hard about your deeply lacking dating resume?"

Bokuto chuckled, biting his lush lower lip in a way that briefly derailed your train of thought in the most unacceptable of fashions. "Well it sure as hell wouldn't hurt matters, that's for damn certain. But nah, that's not the real hook I had in mind to try reeling you in on this one with."

You were already shaking your head in resignation before he even continued. "Figures you'd have some sort of angle all primed from the start, you lovable gremlin. Fine, hit me with it - what exactly is this 'hook' you've been saving to sweet talk me into compliance, hmm?"

The achingly roguish grin and sly, heavy-lidded look of self-satisfaction that split Bokuto's features at that instant made your mouth go abruptly dry all over again. He leaned back slightly, posture going deceptively relaxed and loose as he let the sudden tension thicken to a stifling degree.

"Simple," he purred finally, voice dropping a whole sinful octave that had you squirming against your will. "I agree to take you on an all-expenses paid weekend getaway to that super-exclusive hot springs retreat you've been drooling over for literal years. Just me and you indulging in all the revitalizing treatments, massages, private mineral baths overlooking the scenic mountaintops...the whole nine yards, no questions asked."

You gaped at him mutely, all the air forcibly expelled from your lungs in the wake of that bombshell. It was quite literally your single most deep-seated, unrealized pleasure fantasy - to spend an entire decadent weekend soaking in steaming hot pools and pampering yourself senseless. The ultimate indulgence in pure self-care and indulgence that always felt too extravagant to justify splurging on solo.

But with Bokuto's open-ended offer of companionship and corporation on the table?

"I fucking knew you'd been wanting to take a trip to that ritzy place ever since they opened," Bokuto crowed triumphantly, already sensing victory within his grasp through your pole-axed silence. "So, whaddya say babe? Fancy joining me for a little...getaway after our charade of a date night? Just a lowkey spa weekend between old friends, no frills or strings attached!"

You swallowed hard, mouth still working furiously to rehydrate itself as you leveled him with a pointed glare. "You absolute bastard, using my own weaknesses against me like that," you growled without any real venom, already knowing your own resistance was crumbling like a sand castle before an oncoming tide. "Aren't you ashamed, resorting to such blatant and shamelessly manipulative bribery to get your way?"

Bokuto feigned innocence, widening his already owlish gaze and splaying one hand over his chest in a show of mock contrition that only served to stretch the soft fabric of his shirt obscenely tight across the sculpted contours of his pecs.

"Why, I haven't the faintest idea what you could be implying, kitten," he returned in that same sinfully lowered octave. "All I'm offering here is the pleasure of my charming company as we indulge in a little self-care and relaxation between two buddies."

You narrowed your eyes in a vain attempt at deflecting just how thoroughly your restraint was already crumbling into so much meager rubble. Bokuto simply watched you steadily, all quiet confidence and devastating charisma. The silence seemed to thicken perceptibly with each loaded second allowed to tick by, growing thicker and heavier until it practically condensed into something palpable blanketing the line between you.

"...fine. You utterly irredeemable gremlin," you growled at last, feigning outrage even as your pulse kicked up a notch. "I'll play along with this ludicrous little 'couples night' charade of yours. But only because the thought of finally indulging in that weekend away sounds far too enticing to pass up, you hear?"

Bokuto's expression positively radiated incandescent triumph, all sunny smiles and pleased self-satisfaction at having properly worked you around to his way of thinking. You aimed one final scathing glare at the screen, hating how even that token display of irritation only seemed to encourage the roguish curl quirking his full lips.

"You mark my words though, Bokuto Koutaro - I fully expect you to square things appropriately after I've endured whatever humiliating circus act you're undoubtedly orchestrating, understood?"

You were unable to resist adding a deeply sardonic note of emphasis to the final word, letting your gaze trail unrepentantly over his sculpted torso in a way you absolutely knew couldn't be mistaken for anything but overt admiration. To his credit, Bokuto didn't balk or flinch from the insinuation, simply lifting one shoulder in an artfully nonchalant half-shrug as he pitched his voice low once more.

"Don't you worry your gorgeous head over making me pay up with interest afterwards, gorgeous. As far as I'm concerned, having you on my arm for the night is reward enough in itself." He winked to punctuate that bold declaration, tongue darting out to subtly wet his lips in what had to be the most lascivious move in his repertoire.

You coughed harshly in an ill-concealed attempt at swallowing past the renewed surge of heated interest sluicing through your core just then. "Yeah, well at least I know what kinds of illicit activities will really hold your interest when it comes time to start squaring things." You eyed him with deliberate meaning until Bokuto started squirming under the weight of your gaze. "Should make for a decadently relaxing weekend afterwards for the both of us...don't you agree?"

His unrepentant bark of laughter assured you the double meaning was well and truly received, much to your immense shameless satisfaction.

"Alright, alright - you've played your trump card and mercilessly fleeced me, you ruthless little sexpot. We'll call it an evening for now, yeah?" The dimpled wink Bokuto favored you with made your toes curl pleasantly against the sheets. "I'll swing by to pick you up around 8 tomorrow night, since it's closer to your side of town. Sound good?"

"Works for me," you replied, aiming for a breezy nonchalance despite the warm buttery feeling currently turning your internal organs into the consistency of freshly-churned batter. "I'll start mentally preparing myself to bask in the full hot mess of awkward embarrassment you're no doubt going to be eagerly courting at this fated dinner party now."

Bokuto chuckled richly, the sound going straight to your already overheated hindbrain like a pavlovian trigger.

"And I'll start plotting out all the ways I can thoroughly woo you into forgetting whatever lingering reservations or inhibitions you've still got tucked away beneath those defenses of yours!" His signature double-pistols and a wink chaser were enough to elicit an indelicate snort of amusement despite yourself. "Trust me babe - after tomorrow night, you're gonna be falling head over heels for this old charmer in no time!"

It was an idle boast, you knew. Just the latest in a long string of harmless, mostly affectionate innuendo Bokuto loved to sprinkle between your long-running bouts of playful banter. But without consciously willing it, the barb still struck something soft and vulnerable in your core - setting off a series of shockwaves that left you feeling profoundly off-balance.

Fortunately, Bokuto followed up that loaded declaration with a jaw-cracking yawn and exaggerated stretch without seeming to notice your brief discomfiture. "Oof, look at me just flapping my gums away and keeping the both of us up past our bedtimes. Don't worry, I'll cut the theatrics for now and let you get some shut-eye, gorgeous."

You bit the inside of your cheek, simultaneously relieved and somehow a touch disappointed at him bowing out for the evening so abruptly. Some deep, twisted part of you had obviously desired to keep poking at that undefinable new tension building in the ether between you. To prod and see how far you could stretch those suddenly blurring lines before something inside you inevitably split apart.

"Have a good night, Bo," you finally settled on with a slow exhalation, offering him what you hoped came across as an easy smile. "Don't go suffering any 'crisis of conscience' cold feet between now and your little date night, you hear? I agreed to tag along with minimal fuss, so you'd better deliver on those promises afterwards too."

Bokuto's resounding laugh and million-watt smile were a soothing balm in the wake of your parting teasing remark. "Minimal fuss, she says - did you hear the absolute earful of protestation and stubborn refusals before I broke you down, you gorgeous hardass?"

You aimed an imperious look at him, which only seemed to egg him on into further impish delighting based on the way his eyes danced in fond reminiscence.

"But no worries, no worries my lovely! Your devoted Bokuto will definitely come through with flying colors tomorrow, guaranteed!" He leaned in close to the screen, the full-force effect of that smoldering golden stare almost palpable even from such a distance. "Sweet dreams, kitten. I'll be seeing you in the flesh again soon, and don't you worry - I'll definitely be making good on those promises of mine to thoroughly sweep you off your feet and then some."

He'd barely finished the sentence before you were ending the call with an impatient huff and a roll of your eyes. Your heart was pounding a furious tattoo against the cage of your ribs, blood singing with adrenaline and anticipation as you stared blindly up at the ceiling and tried to parse exactly what the hell you'd gotten yourself into this time.

"Fuck me," you finally managed to choke out, burying your face in your hands and releasing a muffled scream of exasperation and sheer disbelief.

It was bad enough, agreeing to go along with his wild schemes. But having the audacity to imply you would somehow emerge from this little escapade...changed? That was where the line had finally been drawn in the sand.

Still, a small, traitorous corner of your mind couldn't help but entertain the notion, wondering just what sorts of shenanigans a little dose of fresh perspective and genuine, open vulnerability might bring out in your long-time friendship with the most endearingly frustrating person in your life.

You rolled onto your side with a huff, willing the intrusive thoughts to quiet down so you could try and get a decent night's rest for the evening. Still, something small and insidious lingered, sending a shiver racing down the length of your spine and a soft sigh gusting from your lips as you closed your eyes and drifted off into a fitful sleep.

Tomorrow was bound to be a very interesting night.

The jarring crash of splintering wood and shattering glass sent you bolt upright in bed, heart pounding a staccato rhythm against your ribcage. Disoriented eyes swept the shadowed confines of your bedroom, struggling to make sense of the sudden cacophony echoing down the hall.

A dull thud and muffled cursing offered the first clues, quickly followed by the unmistakable stomping gait of oversized feet rapidly approaching. You barely had time to fully register the situation before your door exploded inward with enough force to rip it clear off its hinges.

"Up and at 'em, sleeping beauty!" Bokuto bellowed from the doorway, chest heaving beneath his snug t-shirt like he'd just run a marathon. Predictably, he didn't even pause to take in your deer-in-headlights expression before barreling straight for the bed in a flurry of limbs.

The sheer velocity of his leap carried Bokuto sailing completely over the mattress in an impressive foot-to-foot broad jump. You watched with horrified fascination as he seemed to hang suspended above you for one ludicrous, protracted moment - hair wild, eyes sparkling with unconstrained glee. Then his considerable mass reconnected with the center of your bed in an earthshaking crash, springs and frame groaning in abject protest.

The resulting shockwave instantly transformed your bedding into a veritable tsunami of linen chop. One heartbeat you were cocooned in the drowsy warmth of your comforter, blinking up at Bokuto's maniacal grin in bewildered silence. The next, you were freefalling gracelessly off the far side of the mattress as an entire continent's worth of bedding detonated across the room in a feathery maelstrom.

"Mmmffrrbphh?" Your muffled, dazed noise of confusion wafted up from the crumpled tangle of sheets you'd somehow become hopelessly ensared within. Bokuto simply cackled gleefully at the sight, utterly unbothered by the carnage he'd just wrought on your formerly peaceful sleeping sanctuary.

"C'mon, c'mon - time to rise and shine, princess!" he crowed in that boisterous drill-sergeant voice of his. "We've got a loooong day of pampering and preparing ahead of us before tonight's main event, you know!"

You finally managed to wrestle the top sheet away from where it had cinched around your head like a thick woolen gag, hair thoroughly mussed and cheeks ruddy from your impromptu bout of exertion so early in the morning.

"What in the fresh hell are you-" you broke off with a jaw-cracking yawn, scrubbing knuckles against your aching eyelids as you slowly regained your bearings. "Wait...tonight's main event?"

Bokuto snorted a laugh, folding those ridiculously long legs into a pretzel on your mangled mattress without a care in the world. "Don't tell me your brain's already forgotten all about the momentous commitment I secured from you just last night? This is zero hour for Operation Woo the...uh...wait, what was that ridiculous name I decided on again?"

You pinched the bridge of your nose to stave off the sudden migraine blooming between your temples. "Bokuto, I swear to every deity in existence - if you broke into my house at the asscrack of dawn just to enact another one of your depraved little rom-com scenarios, I'm going to strangle you with my bare hands before we even leave this bedroom."

At your venomous mumbling, Bokuto's expression morphed into an exaggerated look of wounded innocence that might have been comical...if he wasn't already beginning to paw through the giant duffel bag lying at his feet. You watched through slitted eyes as garment bags, jewelry boxes, and all manners of beauty products began spilling out in an unceremonious pile onto your exposed lap.

"What...is all this?" you grumbled, snatching up a particularly suspicious-looking lace and satin bundle with mild trepidation.

"This, my dear, is our ticket to nailing down a completely irrefutable and mouth-wateringly believable performance tonight!" Bokuto punctuated the statement with deep, dramatic flair, setting aside a glistening Louboutin heel with enviable reverence. "After our little pre-game chit chat last night, it became clear to me that simply relying on your natural goddess-like looks wouldn't be enough to properly sell us as a hot-and-heavy lovebird couple to the team."

You eyed him dubiously even as another negligee tumbled haphazardly into your lap, rich silks pooling in glossy rivulets like captured moonbeams. "Yeahhh, because dressing me up like an extra from an extremely upscale escort service promotional shoot is clearly the most discreet strategy..."

Bokuto aimed a pointed look your way, eyebrow quirking ever so slightly. "Would you just trust me for like, five whole minutes here, babe? If I'm gonna parade my ultra-sexy girlfriend around tonight, I need to ensure she's dressed to truly bring the house down, you know?"

Despite yourself, you felt a reluctant warmth beginning to bloom in your chest at the genuine eagerness radiating off him in waves. It was so endearingly, quintessentially Bokuto - leaping headlong into even the most ridiculous of situations with absolutely zero doubts or hesitation once he'd committed himself. Just the same earnest enthusiasm and unrestrained passion that had first endeared him to you as semi-feral children, and which continued fueling your bond as friends to this day.

Still, you refused to make things easy on your chaotic best friend. Heaving an overly dramatic sigh, you allowed all the lingerie to spill from your lap in a glossy avalanche before pinning him with a pointed look.

"Fine, you tireless menace," you groused with a weary shake of your head. "I suppose I have no choice but to entrust the inevitable humiliation of my self-respect to your clearly questionable tastes tonight. Just don't expect me to go silently if we get mistaken for high-end prostitutes at this stupid dinner and I snap someone's arm off in my fury..."

The blinding grin Bokuto flashed you was radiant enough to scald retinas at twenty paces. "Oh man, this night is gonna be better than I ever dreamed! Just you wait, babe - I'm gonna have all those disbelieving losers tripping over their own dicks trying to figure out how someone like me could possibly score someone as gorgeous as you." His gaze abruptly turned heated and playful, devouring you in a way that sent tingles rippling across your skin in warning. "And that's before we even break out the sexy evening wear I picked up for the real pièce de reconnaissance or whatever!"

You fought not to squirm under the molten appraisal sizzling through his eyes. How was it that Bokuto could so effortlessly elicit that restless, fluttering sensation in the pit of your stomach with nothing more than a few words and smoldering looks these days? You'd always prided yourself on not being the kind of foolish, simpering girl who got hot and bothered by a pretty face and charming tongue alone.

With an indelicate snort, you reached across the scattered refuse to thwack him sharply in the shoulder, startling a laugh from the raucous bird himself.

"Eyes off the goods there, Bo...at least until tonight's so-called 'main event' gets underway." Despite your best efforts at maintaining an appropriately chiding frown, your lips twitched dangerously in a suppressed grin. "Because if you think I'm gonna let you get away with upstaging the entire production after all this unforgivable racket you've brought to my poor morning routine..."

"Rest assured, the unassailable Queen of Ice shall be granted her day upon the throne for all to kneel and grovel before!" Bokuto declared with a flourish, puffing out his broad chest in silly pomp as he pressed one hand over the steady thrum of his heartbeat. "Why, I swear upon mine own honor as a devoted - if tragically misunderstood - leading man that tonight shall be a night of pure enchantment to remember! One that we shall..." He paused, gaze growing suddenly soft and honeyed around the edges as it swept across your features, "...one that we shall remember for all our days, my love."

You swallowed convulsively at the intensity behind those words, suddenly robbed of any pithy retort or defenses against the riptide of emotion swelling up between you in that crystalline moment. Everything seemed to recede into a kind of molten, surreal detachment as Bokuto's sculpted features impossibly blurred and sharpened into searing clarity all at once.

Then you were both inhaling sharply, the charged bubble fragmenting apart as Bokuto launched a throw pillow directly into your nose with a muffled 'whoomph'.

"But first thing's first - a morning round of Rocky Road for the soon-to-be leading lady tonight!" he crowed with deafening enthusiasm. "No way my girl's going to war looking like a molted barn owl straight off the rack, am I right?"

And just like that, the spell of palpable tension weighting the atmosphere between you dissipated into the same lighthearted ribbing and raucous antics that had defined your friendship for so long now. You huffed out an exasperated laugh at Bokuto's antics, already bunching up the skirts of your nightdress with every intention of flinging it back in his smug face.

Tonight's theatrics could wait a little longer, you supposed. For now, there was still time for one final lighthearted sparring match before the curtain rose on whatever fresh madness your human hurricane had planned.

"Come onnnn, just put it on for a quick second!" Bokuto whined from his sprawled position across your bed. "I wanna see how the full ensemble looks all put together!"

You shot him an exasperated look over your shoulder as you carefully lined your eyes in front of the vanity mirror. "For the hundredth time, Bo - no. I'm not going full glam until right before we have to actually leave."

He groaned loudly, throwing his arm over his eyes in a dramatic display. "But babe, that's like two whole hours from now! How am I supposed to bask in the vision of loveliness that is my beautiful date if you insist on keeping yourself all covered up?"

"By exercising a little thing called patience?" you fired back dryly. "Maybe lookup some techniques for it between obsessively pestering me every five minutes."

"Ugh, you're so mean to me," Bokuto pouted, peeking at you from beneath the crook of his elbow. "Withholding your breathtaking beauty behind those drab sweats...it's like torturing a man stuck in the desert without any water!"

You snorted at the melodrama, carefully applying another layer of mascara. "Keep laying it on that thick and I may have to take those designer dresses back for a refund. I don't need you staining them with all your pathetic drooling later."

"You couldn't get a refund if you tried," he shot back smugly. "I made sure to have them all permanently altered and tailored to your measurements for the full wow-factor."

You paused, makeup brush hovering as you turned to pin him with an incredulous look. "You're joking."

Bokuto simply grinned, all bravado and mischievous charm. "Does this incredibly handsome face look like it's joking right now?"

Groaning, you shook your head and went back to your makeup, muttering under your breath. "I swear, between the fancy clothes and all the custom tailoring, you must've dropped like ten grand on this whole act alone."

"Well, what can I say?" His tone took on that silky, smug quality that always made you want to smack him. "When I go all out for my gorgeous girl, I don't do anything half-assed."

You rolled your eyes so hard it was almost painful. "I'm not your girl, Bokuto. This is all an elaborate act, remember?"

His responding pout was audible. "Why do you have to go and harsh my vibe like that, babe? Can't you just let a guy get into character for one night of delicious, scintillating roleplay with his dream partner?"

"By deluding yourself into somehow making this real?" you countered, finally feeling satisfied enough with your makeup to start getting dressed. "I think the only delusion happening here is in that perpetually thirsty mind of yours, pal."

"Mmm, you know just what to say to get a fella all riled up," Bokuto rumbled, the bed creaking as he shifted around behind you. "Promise me one thing - you gotta let me see the full shebang at least thirty minutes before we have to be out that door. Give a guy a little time to pick his jaw up off the floor and reassemble his composure..."

You bit your lip against a grin as you shimmied out of your sweatpants, very aware of the weight of his eyes tracking your movements now. "We'll see how convincing you are at playing the part later. For now, just sit tight and try to control yourself until I put the whole look together, okay?"

His wounded groan made you chuckle softly to yourself. Slipping into your robe, you turned to catch Bokuto propped up on one elbow, eyes already gleaming with familiar exaggerated pleading.

"You're lucky I already vowed to be on my best behavior tonight," he muttered, gaze roaming frankly over your silk-wrapped frame. "Otherwise I might've had to take drastic measures to see that beautiful body out in the open well before our scheduled curtain call..."

You threw a decorative pillow at his face without hesitation, fighting a losing battle against your smile. "Down boy! Save all that simmering tension for when the cameras are rolling - I'm pretty sure your idiot teammates will smell even a whiff of real steam and instantly know I'm not your actual love interest."

"Oh ye of little faith," Bokuto tsked with a wink. "By the time I work my irresistible magic on you tonight, those clueless dingbats won't know whether I'm just an incredibly committed method actor or if they've actually glimpsed the face of true love incarnate. You'll see..."

The sheer overconfidence in his tone was enough to set you laughing all over again as you grabbed your dress ensemble and headed for the bathroom to change. "Keep telling yourself that, Casanova. I'm still holding you personally responsible when this all inevitably blows up in our faces!"

His responding whoop of protest was drowned out by the click of the door shutting between you. Surrounded by the quiet of your bathroom, you allowed yourself a small moment just to take a few centering breaths, garment bags pooling at your feet.

Despite all the teasing back-and-forth... despite your very rational, very loud internal voice screaming about how insane this entire farce was...you couldn't quite ignore the steadily growing bubble of warmth and giddy excitement slowly inflating in your chest.

Bokuto's particular brand of irreverent, untempered enthusiasm had always been nothing short of infectious to you. And after the sheer excess of thought and funds he'd poured into making tonight as lavish and extravagant as possible for your benefit?

Well, you supposed you could find it in yourself to get a little overinvested in selling the real-life romantic fantasy too. At least for one night of shameless indulgence between you and your best friend.

With that firmly in mind, you finally allowed the dress bags to slip open and spill their contents across your waiting arms.

"You've got to be kidding me..." The hushed utterance barely contained the appropriate degree of reverent awe as Bokuto took you in from across the room. "I mean, I knew you were gonna be a knockout when I saw the full look in person. But holy smokes, babe...you're on an entirely different level from anyone else on this whole damn planet!"

You felt your cheeks heat despite yourself at the sincere appreciation brimming in his voice. Studiously avoiding his molten gaze, you twisted to examine your reflection more critically in the floor-length mirror.

The oxblood evening gown skimmed over your curves in an elegant swath of liquid silk that shimmered and flowed like a living entity with each minute shift. The neckline plunged just enough to tease without being outright salacious while the daring thigh-high slit allowed tantalizing glimpses of skin to wink at admirers as you moved. Overall, the deep crimson shade provided an aesthetically striking contrast against your complexion, practically smoldering in an effortless display of confidence and refined beauty.

"It is a pretty swoon-worthy look, I'll give you that much," you allowed with a small smile as you tried to slip into the towering rhinestone-studded heels to complete the overall effect.

You could feel the weight of Bokuto's gaze like a physical brand everywhere it raked across your body. An indecent part of you thrilled at the rapt, appreciative way he seemed to drink in every exposed inch of skin - unconsciously leaning forward like a man entranced.

"Forget swoon-worthy," he husked after a protracted beat, voice dropping an entire octave deeper in a way that zipped electric tingles down your spine. "That look is straight up...no, wait. This requires more creative adjectives than my poor tongue can properly supply justice to in the moment."

With that vague declaration, Bokuto simply launched himself off the bed and pad-thumped his way over to you in a few loping strides. You opened your mouth to offer some sardonic rebuttal, only to choke on your words entirely as he effortlessly sank to one knee at your feet, broad shoulders level with your waistline.

Smoldering galaxies of molten amber stared up at you from beneath a messy fringe of slate and silver, flickering with a tantalizing heat that made your mouth go abruptly dry.

"What...are you doing?" The question rasped out weakly, all the smooth bravado sapped from your tone.

Bokuto didn't answer verbally - he simply reached out and ever-so-gently clasped your ankle, thumb settling into the hollow just below with exquisite tenderness as his gaze continued searing a path up the length of your body. By the time your eyes reconnected, there was an electric charge crackling in the humid air between you, whipping every molecule of oxygen into a volatile brew.

"Let me, please," he finally breathed, the entreaty so hushed and heavy it landed squarely in your core like a physical blow. "Just...just let me have this one moment to drink you in before I have to share this unreal vision with the rest of the world, okay?"

Your tongue felt thick and clumsy against your palate when you tried to formulate a response. Heat blossomed across the bridge of your nose and high planes of your cheekbones as those long, deft fingers performed exquisite tortures along the sensitive regions of your ankles and calves. Bokuto's smoldering stare remained trained on yours all the while, glittering through his lashes like shards of black ice and molten gold swirled together in a cosmic tempest...

"Uh...y-yeah. Yes, okay..." You finally tore your gaze away with concentrated effort, fighting the sudden tightness coiling in your belly at the naked adoration splashed across your best friend's features. "Just...don't go getting too many wild ideas about taking this role-playing thing past its acceptable limits."

Bokuto's responding chuckle was a low, throaty rumble that seemed vibrate against the bare skin of your legs in a most precarious way. "Rest assured, my love...what's happening between us in this moment is no mere act or play for show."

Your head whipped around so fast your upswept hair bounced and thrashed with the force. Bokuto's angular features had been wiped carefully blank into an expressionless mask, though his eyes still simmered with a naked heat that bordered on reverence.

Before you could recover enough to properly call him on the seemingly innocent comment loaded with ambiguity, he drew in a long, shuddering inhale through his nose. Squeezed your calf just firm enough to betray the intensity of the moment weighing upon him.

Then, seeming to shake off the unsettling weight of his own mood, he aimed that signature boyish grin up at you and bounced agilely back to his feet with new lightness.

"But enough seriousness for the time being, am I right?" His eyes crinkled at the corners with sincere mirth. "Tonight's meant to be a celebration for us both - one that I intend to kick off with an absolute bang once we hit the streets and show off this impossible union for all the world to behold!"

Despite the lingering maelstrom of emotions still settling over you like an intangible haze, you couldn't quite stifle the breathless giggle that bubbled up in response to his renewed exuberance. Unable to resist one final joshing remark.

"So what you're saying is, this is officially the moment where my descent into unwitting arm candy status goes completely off the rails?" you teased lightly. "I should savor these last shreds of dignity before you strip them away entirely with your usual hurricane of chaos, right?"

Bokuto's responding cackle of delight was deep and infectious, swiftly dragging you fully free of the heated thrall you'd both temporarily spun into just moments ago. He swept a low, gallant bow worthy of Shakespearean theater, extending one arm in an exaggerated beckoning flourish towards the door.

"My dear lady, would that I could promise your pride and reserve will remain fully intact throughout our festivities!" He deepened his voice into a ridiculously affected baritone dripping with mock gravitas. "But I fear yours truly must admit to harboring...ulterior motives for tonight's escapades that may strip you bare of all remaining propriety and discretion by the final curtain!"

You were already giggling helplessly at his theatrics, one hand pressed over your abdomen as peals of laughter tumbled freely forth. Bokuto took the opportunity to stride forward and link your free arm through the crook of his elbow, guiding you with exaggerated courtliness towards the door and whatever jubilant mayhem beyond awaited your arrival.

"C'mon, milady," he murmured against your temple, the graveled tenor of his voice sending shivers coursing across your skin. "Let's blow the roof off this joint, just the two of us taking the world by storm. What d'ya say?"

Your answering grin, wide and radiant with all the boundless eagerness of pure, unfettered joy, was all the response either of you needed. Tonight was yours for the taking, for better or worse.

And as your fingertips burrowed into the solid expanse of muscle cording Bokuto's bicep more snugly, winding him just a smidge tighter against your side...you found yourself struck by the sudden, heady certainty that neither of you had any intention of doing this night by halves.

The sleek car idled curbside, tinted privacy windows shielding you from the curious glances of passersby as you leaned towards the mirror. Dabbing one final layer of glossy crimson across your lips, you pursed them experimentally before nodding in satisfaction.

"Okay, I think that's as good as it's gonna get," you announced, snapping your compact closed with a definitive click. "Unless you want me adding another coat of…"

Your teasing words trailed off as you finally glanced over at Bokuto...only to find him openly staring at you with an expression of such open, naked wonderment that your breath caught in your throat.

He was leaned back into the plush leather seat, one forearm looped casually across the empty space as he watched you with rapt, childlike adoration crinkling the corners of those expressive eyes. There was no heat or suggestion in his features, just an almost painfully earnest awe that reminded you so viscerally of the way he used to idolize you as snotty, scrappy children playing in the park across from your building.

For one suspended heartbeat, Bokuto looked less like the wildly successful pro athlete about to put on a staged performance for his team...and more like that wiry, silver-haired whirlwind of endless enthusiasm and boundless adoration that he had been all those years ago.

"Hello? Earth to Kou?" you prodded after clearing your throat roughly. "You still with me over there or did I accidentally hypnotize you into some sort of trance with my goddess-like glow?"

Bokuto blinked rapidly, the moment shattering apart like delicate spun-glass at the wry prompting of your voice. He shook his head sharply, silken strands of silver and black dancing across his brow as his expression cycled through a dizzying range of micro-emotions before settling on sheepish chagrin.

"Sorry, sorry!" One calloused palm rasped across the chiseled cut of his jawline, thumb smoothing over the plush swell of his lips. The small, compulsive adjustment only served to draw your gaze helplessly down to drink in the soft give of that lush mouth yet again before snapping your attention back up. "I didn't mean to get all weird and spacey on you like that. You just..."

He paused, adam's apple bobbing convulsively as he visibly struggled to collect his thoughts into some semblance of coherency. You arched one brow expectantly, tamping down on the sudden fluttering unease blossoming beneath your breastbone.

"I just what, Koutaro?" Aiming for casual nonchalance was more of a struggle than anticipated with the heated weight of his smoldering appraisal prickling along your sensitized skin once more.

"You just...look really, really pretty tonight." Bokuto bit down on that full lower lip briefly, as if physically shackling the rest of whatever thought wanted to tumble forth next. His lashes dipped for a single slow blink before those liquid mercury eyes refocused on yours with renewed intensity. "Like, inhumanly gorgeous to the point that I genuinely worried for a split second about bursting into flames levels of pretty."

Your mouth curved into an amused moue despite your best efforts at preserving neutrality. Leave it to Bokuto to somehow ricochet between flustered sincerity and casual wisecracking with such effortless smoothness.

"Thanks, I think?" You aimed for a playful roll of your eyes, though the heat blooming across the bridge of your nose hinted at the lingering effects of his unvarnished compliment. "Glad to know my efforts at achieving 'ethereal siren' levels of beauty paid off enough to stun even a chaos prodigy like you into temporary speechlessness."

Bokuto huffed out a quiet chuckle, shoulders relaxing incrementally back into that sinuous sprawl against the seat. "It's not an act or exaggerated flattery, babe. You really do take my breath away looking like...well, like anything."

Another long, weighted pause as his eyes roved over the elegant lines of your body hungrily - a physical caress you felt all the way down to your core.

"Makes it a lot easier to sell the whole 'deliriously smitten leading man' act I've gotta put on tonight, that's for damn sure."

You hummed noncommittally, fingers toying with the ornate pendant nestled between your breasts as a welcome distraction from the steadily spiraling tension in the air between you both. Eventually you found enough equilibrium to shake off the tangible charge and pivot towards a more practical line of questioning.

"Speaking of selling this act..." You cast a sidelong glance at Bokuto, noting the way his posture imperceptibly tightened like a coiled strand of tensile steel cable. "We should probably get our story straight on a few key details before waltzing into the lion's den, don't you think?"

Bokuto regarded you steadily for a heartbeat before seeming to cotton to your pragmatic line of thought. He rapped the knuckle of his index finger lightly against his temple twice, inclining his head in a silent request for you to continue unpacking those thoughts.

"Well obviously your boneheaded teammates aren't going to resist the urge to start grilling us over the standard dating trivia the moment we make our entrance." You ticked off on your fingers as you continued. "Things like how we met up initially after losing touch for so long. Who finally caved and shot their shot to kickstart the romance between us. How long we've been keeping our relationship under wraps and why. That kind of gritty, embarrassingly intimate stuff that idiotic meatheads always zero right in on when they think they've sniffed out a chance for invasive gossip, y'know?"

You paused to regard Bokuto expectantly, only to find his expression had rapidly collapsed from genuine interest into a veritable deer-in-headlights mask of panic. His eyes had blown wide enough to dominate the entirety of his features, knuckles whitening around the plush grip of the door handle beside him.

"Oh fuuuuuuuuuuck..." The grated moan dragged itself past his suddenly bloodless lips like the pained death rattle of a newly birthed black hole swallowing him whole. "I didn't...oh my god, I'm such a colossal idiot! How did I not even stop to think about basic background and story logistics like that before charging in ass-first?"

Well, that certainly wasn't the response you had anticipated from your customarily unflappable partner in chaos. You stared at Bokuto in mounting disbelief as he visibly descended into a whirlwind shame spiral before your very eyes.

"Shit, no - this whole thing is going to unravel into a total trainwreck before we even make it through the door now!" His voice steadily escalated towards hysterical yodeling, free hand tugging mercilessly at platinum streaked strands. "Those vultures are going to sniff out the first hint of discrepancy in our cover story and proceed to rip me a massively gaping asshole sideways for the next decade at minimum! Oh god, why didn't I have you help me hammer out some plausible backstory details ahead of time? Why am I such an inconsistent, scatterbrained himbo with the planning skills of a lobotomized lemur at all times?!"

At that, you could no longer bite back the peals of laughter bubbling up from your chest. Bokuto froze mid-tirade to goggle at you, clearly shellshocked by the mirth rippling across his companion. Wiping away the first few tears pearling at the corners of your eyes, you finally managed to draw a full breath and calm yourself enough to speak clearly once more.

"Honestly, I don't know why I expected anything less from you in a crisis situation like this," you chuckled with a bemused shake of your head. "You'd have ended up spontaneously combusting from all the convoluted storytelling lies you tried weaving by yourself guaranteed."

Bokuto opened his mouth, no doubt to defend his honor, when you smoothly reached out and grasped him by both whiskered cheeks. His plush lips puckered adorably in your squishing hold, eyes going owlishly perplexed as the scathing commentary seemed to momentarily die on his tongue.

"You daft, ridiculous man-owl," you crooned fondly, drinking in the boyish features you knew better than your own reflection at this point. "Why else did you think I bothered bringing up hammering out backstory logistics in the first place, hm? Did you really think I'd allow us to blunder into this big scene without having some plausible fallback cover story all teed up on my end?"

Realization dawned in Bokuto's widening gaze even as you allowed your grip on his cheeks to relax fractionally, smoothing those plumped swell of his lips out beneath your touch.

"That's right, my adorably fretful barnowl," you practically purred, unable to resist skimming the calloused pad of your thumb across that lush mouth in a tantalizing graze. "Your ever vigilant partner in crime has us fully covered here too. Just leave the talking to me this time around, yeah?"

You punctuated the reassurance with a conspiratorial wink that had Bokuto's posture relaxing back into the decadent sprawl he seemed to favor instinctively. There was an evenness and unhurried certainty creeping back into his bearing as well - the sort of quietly determined and centered confidence that had underscored even the wildest, most over-the-top productions you two had dreamed up back in your teen heydays.

"As per usual then?" he husked finally, tongue darting out to wet those lips you'd just caressed in an unconsciously sensual motion that caused every fiber of your being to suddenly throb with heated awareness. His features had cycled back through that delicious transformation from hangdog uncertainty to assured incandescence before your very eyes - the alpha-owl persona you knew and adored so unreservedly slotting smoothly back into the driver's seat once more. "You hold the reins while I'm left to follow your indomitable lead into whatever madness awaits, gorgeous? Just the pair of eternal partners kicking up fresh chaos in harmony as we've done since we were kids?"

You echoed his slow, delicious grin with one of your own - equally indulgent yet underscored by that same current of feral, unignorable heat simmering between you. This was familiar territory, comforting in its inherent unpredictability...yet charged with undeniable electricity neither of you had ever dared name or fully give voice to up until now.

"Something like that," you husked back, voice already taking on a husky, heady alto you barely recognized as belonging to your own throat. "So what do you say, oh esteemed leading man?"

You didn't wait for his breathless nod of acquiescence before surging forward in that same, emboldened motion. The hand already cupping the stubbled definition of Bokuto's jaw slid upwards to frame his enviably sharp cheekbones, thumb grazing the razor-cut hollow just beneath with smoldering intent. Your lips hovered a sliver's breadth from searing themselves against the corner of his own in a filthy brand - close enough to share each scorching exhalation in one heated tangle.

"Shall we go remind that ingrate squad of judgmental jackals just what kind of unrestrained havoc a force of nature like us is capable of conjuring?" you practically growled, holding his blown-wide stare captive even as the energy crackling between your mingling breaths thickened to intoxicating degrees. "And give them all a little...private show we know they've been utterly dying to catch a tantalizing glimpse of behind closed doors for months now?"

A heartbeat ticked by with agonizing slowness as Bokuto simply stared at you slack-jawed, throat clicking in a convulsive swallow. One, two shuddering blinks later, and his jaw clenched with resolve as a guttural rumble tore itself loose from his chest.

"On your lead, partner...let's give these chucklehead civilians the night of their goddamn lives."

His wolfish smile, pure smoldering sin and white-hot charisma, was your only warning before he surged across the scant space separating you. You inhaled sharply at the sudden weight of his mouth blazing a trail of liquid fire along your jaw and throat - lush and seeking in a way that nearly had you whiting out from the searing onslaught of sensation.

No, there would be no holding back this time. No restraints or filters imposed as you two utterly annihilated every last barrier in your path. Not tonight.

Tonight was for raw, visceral consumption in its most primal sense. And you were both starving.

The low hum of conversation and soft music greeted you as the maître d' ushered you through the elegant double doors into the main dining room. Bokuto's broad palm pressed reassuringly against the small of your back, guiding you forward with an effortless confidence that paradoxically helped settle your nerves.

Despite all the risqué teasing and charged tension in the car, there was still something incredibly grounding about his solid presence at your side as you took in the opulent surroundings. This was your oldest friend in the world after all - the one person you'd always been able to rely on through every wild antic and scheme, no matter how outlandish.

"There they are," he murmured against your temple, the rumbling timbre of his voice stirring tingles across your skin. You followed his subtle nod towards a partially secluded booth near the back where three figures sat sprawled amid the tasteful low lighting.

Even from this distance, it was impossible to miss the unmistakable crown of fiery red locks belonging to Hinata Shoyo. He was turned in profile, but the animated way his hands gestured as he spoke marked him like a human exclamation point amid the group.

At his side sat the impressive bulk and perpetual furrow of Sakusa Kiyoomi, arms folded across his broad chest as he watched Hinata with ill-disguised bemusement. And lounging opposite them both with an ease borne from sheer confidence and charisma...

"Well I'll be damned," Atsumu Miya drawled as he caught sight of you both across the dining room. "The mighty Kou-kun actually did manage to snag himself a real life girlfriend after all this time!"

You felt Bokuto tense fractionally at your side, thumb rubbing an absent circle against the exposed skin of your back before he huffed out a soft snort. When he spoke, though, his tone was light and warm in a way that made your heart swell unexpectedly.

"Don't look so surprised there, Tsumu," he chuckled, guiding you both closer to the booth until you stood directly beside the table. A disarming grin split his handsome features, radiating the sort of sunny charm that made your breath catch each time unexpectedly. "Were you really doubting my unbeatable charm for so long, buddy? That's just cold."

Atsumu was quick to return the teasing jibe, leaning back with a dramatic roll of his eyes and smirk curling one side of his mouth. "Well can ya really blame a guy for keepin' his expectations low when it comes to your romantic prowess, Kou-kun? Yer not exactly batting a thousand when it comes to putting the moves on people, if ya know what I mean."

Despite yourself, you couldn't help the small laugh that bubbled free at the exaggerated tete-a-tete clearly being indulged between old friends and teammates. Hinata was quick to pick up on the shift, immediately swiveling in his seat to face you both with sparkling interest.

"Whoa, Atsumu! Is this the girlfriend Bokuto was telling u-" His warm brown eyes raked over you assessingly before widening in clear awestruck surprise. "Oh my gosh, you're-! I mean, I didn't realize you and Bokuto-san were actually, you know, dating and everything!"

You arched a single brow at that in silent query, though inside you felt a small swell of flattery blooming unexpectedly. It seemed Bokuto was quite the notorious gossip to his teammates when it came to the epic saga of your relationship, regardless of how frequently skewed facts were indulged upon.

To his credit, Bokuto looked the very picture of perfectly charmed embarrassment when he ducked his head, shooting you a sheepish sidelong look from beneath tousled silvery lashes. The tips of his ears had begun to redden ever so slightly in a rather endearingly boyish tell, one you'd seen countless times over the years.

"Well, I'll admit I may have waxed a bit poetic in singing my partner's endless virtues over the years," he murmured, carefully avoiding your teasing scrutiny as he addressed the others. You didn't miss the almost imperceptible tightening of his palm against your lower back at the gentle ribbing, though - nor the way it somehow managed to steady and center you despite the fleeting rush of nerves spiking through your system.

"But in my defense, how could any mere mortal hope to properly capture the full essence of such an ethereal, untouchable vision in mere words alone, gentlemen?" The crooked grin Bokuto flashed next set your pulse to skittering in a dangerous pattern, every fiber of attention narrowing to the way his thumb resumed those absent caresses against your spine. "Isn't that right, my radiant guiding star?"

You huffed out a soft breath at the unexpected endearment, equal parts charmed and exasperated despite yourself. Of course he would be utterly incorrigible about playing the devoted, overly effusive paramour to the hilt already.

"First of all, you don't get to melt me into a puddle with all your overwrought poetry that easily, Casanova," you fired back in a mild tone, though you made no move to step away from his side or dislodge the hand pressed so tenderly to the curve of your waist. "I happen to distinctly recall swearing off letting you ruin my makeup before we even got properly seated tonight."

Atsumu's bark of delighted laughter cut through the charged moment, startling you out of the impromptu staring contest you'd found yourself locked in with Bokuto's heated gaze. The blonde setter leaned forward eagerly, elbows resting atop the pristine linens as he grinned between you in open amusement.

"Aw damn, I like her already!" he chuckled, grey eyes sparkling with impish mischief. "Anyone who can verbally run circles 'round ol' Kou-kun that smoothly while still lettin' him slobber all over them with that ol' Casanova charm routine is a total winner in my book."

The tips of your ears warmed at the transparent, if playful, insinuation behind his words...though you couldn't quite hide the pleased tilt your lips took in response either. It seemed Bokuto's teammates were already wholeheartedly adopting you as part of their eccentric inner circle, and your confidence was quickly being bolstered by the unexpected warmth and levity being fostered around the table.

"She really is a regular gem though, isn't she?" Hinata chimed in brightly when the laughter tapered off. He leaned across Sakusa's impressive bulk with earnest eyes locked on you, one small hand extended in greeting. "We haven't gotten the chance to be properly acquainted yet, but Bokuto never stops talking about you! I'm Hinata Shoyo - it's so awesome to finally meet you in person!"

You clasped the proffered hand in a firm shake, unable to resist the infectious sincerity radiating off the diminutive redhead in waves. "It's wonderful to meet you as well, Hinata. Though I have to admit, I already feel like I know each of you gentlemen rather intimately after all the tales and boasting Bokuto has subjected me to over the years."

At that, you slid him a sly sidelong glance, lips curving into a soft teasing smile that seemed to stop Bokuto's breath in his throat - if the almost imperceptible tightening of his grip against you was any indication. "I'm afraid he truly has exceeded every acceptable boundary when it comes to gushing about his friends in excruciating detail."

To his credit, Bokuto didn't balk or try to deflect the gentle jab, simply basking in your approving look with open affection crinkling the corners of his eyes and mouth. Hinata straightened up with an impish grin, clearly picking up on the unspoken dynamic playing out so intimately between you.

"Well hey, if he runs his mouth off constantly singing your praises, I think that just means we were all secretly kind of hoping you two lovebirds would finally make things official eventually, right?" Another disarmingly sunny beam flashed in your direction, setting your pulse to tripping in earnest now. The implicit familiarity and warmth with which Hinata already folded you into their motley little group was both blindsiding and intensely heartwarming in equal measure. "I mean, Bokuto-san’s been carrying a crazy obvious torch for you since forever ago, from the way he never shut up about you!"

A flush crept up Bokuto's neck at that perfectly innocent disclosure, mouth twitching in a suppressed grimace of embarrassment. You couldn't resist darting a sly, utterly unsubtle look of silent query in his direction. He purposefully avoided your searching gaze, shoulders hunching almost imperceptibly as if preparing for the worst.

Just like that, the teasing banter around the table shifted from playful jocularity to something infinitely more loaded - weighted with an undeniable new gravity that had Atsumu and Hinata's grins faltering slightly. Even Sakusa's formidable mask of indifference slipped fractionally, one elegant brow lifting beneath the fall of inky curls obscuring his pale visage.

A thick, rapidly solidifying quiet descended over the group before you finally managed to rally, forcing a breezy chuckle from somewhere deep in your chest. The sound seemed to shatter the moment's strange tension back into something altogether warmer and more recognizable to you all.

"Well then, I apologize in advance for disappointing the lot of you on that particular front," you offered with an easy smile aimed first at Hinata, then around the table. You capped the quip off by leaning your weight subtly into Bokuto's solid frame, earning a sharp intake of breath from your partner as his stare locked onto yours again. "But I can promise the long, arduous waits and unspoken pining ends tonight for our dear Bokuto. We're both far too emotionally evolved and secure in our commitment to keep dancing around the obvious any longer, isn't that right darling?"

The endearment dripped off your tongue with smooth, sugared sincerity despite the open wink you aimed Bokuto's way. To his immense credit though, he rallied admirably - entire demeanor shifting back towards his usual unflappable swagger and roguish charm as he slid an arm securely around your waist.

"You heard the woman, boys. No more need to keep up this weary facade of us being anything other than the deliriously smitten item we truly are," he rumbled, lips curving into that lopsided smirk that did utterly unreasonable things to your pulse point. He dipped his head fractionally until you could feel the silken caress of his hair whispering against your cheek, mouth a scant breath from your own as he murmured softly. "Isn't that right...my heavenly flame?"

You held his heated stare levelly, throat clicking in a steadying swallow before arching one brow in silent invitation. An inviting curve graced your lips at the brief flicker of something ferociously intent that flared across Bokuto's expression before he turned his focus back on the others with a disarmingly sunny grin.

The comfortable cadences of conversation resumed around you in that moment, though you remained hyper-aware of the solid weight of Bokuto's palm spanning your hip. Of the occasional gusts of his warm breath stirring gossamer tendrils against your cheek and throat each time he leaned in to punctuate a story or witty retort to the ongoing banter.

Just as you had predicted, you realized with a sense of burgeoning satisfaction. The two of you seemed to have thoroughly and irrevocably secured your roles in this little dramatic facade.

Though judging by Bokuto's occasional sidelong glances and poorly concealed looks of open adoration directed your way when he thought you weren't paying careful attention...you got the distinct impression your partner in chaos was no longer playing merely for show.

Not when the tender sweep of his thumb against your wrist had taken on an unconsciously sensual caress you felt reverberating straight to your core.

Or when his luminous gaze threatened to strip you bare to your deepest foundations in unguarded moments whenever your eyes inevitably found themselves locking and holding with electric intensity once more...

No, there was no doubt about it. Despite your carefully laid plans and meticulous choreography preparing you for this very evening, Bokuto Kotaro was officially steering this emotional upheaval somewhere entirely unscripted and irrevocable.

And you couldn't quite decide whether you were utterly elated or terribly apprehensive at the thrilling prospect of seeing precisely where the detour he was plotting might take you both next.

The soft murmur of conversation and clinking silverware filled the air, punctuated by Atsumu's occasional bawdy joke or Hinata's bright peals of laughter. You fielded their friendly interrogation about how you and Bokuto first started dating with well-practiced ease - embellishing backstories and twisting innocent anecdotes just enough to maintain plausible deniability.

"So lemme get this straight," Atsumu leaned back, eyeing you both with an appraising look. "You two crazy kids knew each other all the way until high school, but never actually got your acts together until running into one another again randomly a few years later?"

You nodded, feeling Bokuto's thigh press solidly against yours beneath the table. "That's right. All those years of unresolved tension and lingering feelings finally just...combusted one night when we reconnected over drinks."

A roguish grin split Atsumu's features as he wiggled his brows suggestively. "I'll bet. Dontcha just hate it when all that pent up unresolved sexual tension hits ya like a sledgehammer to the nuts and you can't do anything but rip each other's clothes off for a—?"

"Atsumu!" Hinata cried, looking scandalized as he swatted his teammate's arm. You stifled a laugh as Bokuto shifted uncomfortably, a hint of pink tingeing those defined cheekbones.

From the corner of your eye, you caught Sakusa's usual impassive mask slipping slightly, mouth twitching as if resisting the urge to sneer outright at the vulgar banter. Those dark, piercing eyes found yours across the table and held them in a quietly scrutinizing stare. You met his silent appraisal head on, features schooled into neutrality.

Under the table, Bokuto's hand found yours, fingers threading together and squeezing tightly. You slanted him a look of silent understanding, trapping his other hand against your thigh in a reciprocal gesture of reassurance. The slight tremor you felt betrayed his nerves at being placed under such unyielding scrutiny, but he squeezed back fiercely all the same.

"Well, if Kou-kun is even half as good at deliverin' the goods behind closed doors as he is at performin' on the court, I'm sure things got nice and wild for you crazy lovebirds that night," Atsumu continued breezily, utterly uncaring of the atmosphere's shift towards tension.

To your surprise, you felt Bokuto tense sharply beside you, fingers tightening around yours in an anxious grip. Bewildered, you watched as that bright, sunny confidence seemed to bleed from his expression in real time - golden eyes going dim and shoulders slumping infinitesimally.

And just like that, you recognized the warning signs solidifying into place with a lurch of your stomach. Emo-mode, the bane of your existence.

You opened your mouth, about to cut in with some smooth deflection before matters could escalate any further. But you were beaten to the punch by a small, derisive scoff from Sakusa's side of the table.

"As if someone as emotionally stunted as Bokuto could ever hope to satisfy a real woman properly," he drawled, dark eyes glittering with unveiled disdain. "He's clearly still just an overgrown, emotionally-incontinent child playing make-believe at being a mature, capable adult."

The table fell into a shocked hush, charged and bristling in the wake of Sakusa's blunt dismissal. You could practically see the shutters slamming down behind Bokuto's eyes, mouth tightening into a flat line as every vestige of lightness drained from his demeanor.

"Oh come on, Omi-kun! That's a bit harsh, don't you thin-" Hinata began placatingly, only to halt when you waved a dismissive hand in his direction.

"Save your breath, Sho," you said easily, not even sparing Sakusa a glance as you shifted closer to Bokuto's side. "If Omi-kun wants to project his own intimacy issues all over the place, I say we just let him get it off his chest."

Bokuto stiffened slightly beside you, so you threw an arm around his broad shoulders and leaned fully into his personal space. With your free hand, you trailed your fingertips along the sculpted line of his pec through the thin fabric of his shirt, feeling the firm muscle jump beneath your teasing caress.

"Although..." You drawled, letting your nails rake lightly over his chest now. "If the brooding man is really that curious about Kou's prowess behind closed doors, I'm more than happy to give a full review right here and now."

You punctuated the loaded statement by slanting a boldly challenging look at Sakusa, lips curving into a smirk at the way his perpetual frown deepened ever so slightly in response to your brazen flirting.

"Let's just say that despite how childish this one can act around you sad sacks," you continued blithely, giving Bokuto's pec an indulgent squeeze that had his breath hitching audibly. "He's anything but immature when we're tangled up together in private."

The tips of Atsumu's ears went cherry red, jaw dropping open in a small 'o' of shock. Hinata looked equally aghast, hands flying up to cover his flaming cheeks as an embarrassed giggle slipped free. But Sakusa...Sakusa was the real prize, straightening in his seat and openly staring at you both now with what could only be grudging interest glinting in those obsidian eyes.

Feeling emboldened by his apparent investment in the conversation's tawdry turn, you slid your palm up to cup the solid weight of Bokuto's bicep, giving an appreciative squeeze that had the thick cords of muscle jumping beneath your fingers.

"Am I right or am I right, big guy?" You aimed the husky endearment directly at Bokuto, enjoying the way his complexion immediately took on a ruddy hue high across those razor-sharp cheekbones.

He blinked a few times, seeming to shake off his stupor with visible effort before settling you with a playful, smoldering look that went straight to your core in a dizzying rush of heat.

"Well, you know how I always strive for excellence in everything, babe," he rumbled, lips quirking into that lopsided grin that showed off his sharp canines. He dropped his voice another sin-cured register, gaze burning into yours from beneath his lashes as he continued. "Wouldn't wanna half-ass anything and disappoint a passionate woman like yourself, now would I?"

The promise behind that bedroom rasp was utterly unmistakable. You felt a shiver tingle deliciously down your spine at the overt suggestion, pupils blowing wide as you drank in the sight of your usually boisterous partner positively oozing rugged masculinity in that moment.

Somewhere between your parted thighs, you became aware of a telltale throb of heated interest making itself known. You swallowed hard, resisting the urge to squirm as prickles of arousal ghosted beneath your skin in delirious waves.

"Mmm, well I certainly can't argue with the results," you managed after a moment, pitching your tone into one of artfully feigned indifference despite the molten lava simmering in your veins now.

You slid one palm higher, knuckles grazing Bokuto's stubbled jaw in a searing caress as you held his blazing stare steadily.

"Pretty sure I've never once had cause to be anything less than...fully satiated and left quivering in the aftermath of your efforts, lover."

The blunt insinuation hung heavy in the air, dripping with unsubtle promise. Bokuto looked like he was two seconds away from spontaneously combusting right there at the table - eyes blown wide, chest heaving beneath the thin fabric of his shirt as his Adam's apple bobbed convulsively.

You simply arched one brow at his stunned expression, finally leaning back in your seat with a picture of nonchalant composure. As if you hadn't just been openly insinuating about the devastating prowess of his lovemaking mere moments ago.

Atsumu coughed roughly into his fist, still looking faintly scandalized. Hinata just kept darting bewildered glances between the pair of you, seemingly at a total loss. But Sakusa...

Sakusa regarded you with those impenetrable dark eyes for a long moment, carefully schooling his features into an inscrutable mask once more. Then the barest hint of a smirk quirked the corner of his mouth as he inclined his head a few fractional degrees.

"I'll give you this much - that whole overtly crass flirting act you've got going on takes a surprising amount of gall I didn't think you'd have in you," he remarked in that low, disaffected drawl of his. His smirk deepened by a few molars as he fixed Bokuto with a pointed look. "Though I suppose keeping up with this rambunctious headcase on a daily basis would require a significant lack of shame from anyone."

The backhanded compliment hung there, loaded with unspoken implication. You simply hummed softly in response, offering Sakusa a serene smile as you toyed with the stem of your wineglass.

"Why thank you kindly, Omi-kun. I'll take that as basically the closest thing to a glowing character endorsement I'm likely to get out of you for the foreseeable future." You tipped your glass at him in a small, mocking toast. "I do so appreciate the subtle acknowledgment of my brazen nature as being a core component of what snared such a virile, unapologetic peacock like my dear Kou in the end."

Sakusa snorted indelicately at the oblique dig, but let the matter slide in that same graceful display of aloof detachment he excelled at. Just like that, the brief undercurrent of simmering tension evaporated back into the comfortable warmth and easy banter you'd been immersed in all evening.

Hinata must have picked up on the new lightness settling back over the table, because he immediately turned to you both with a toothy grin and gleam of curiosity dancing in his warm brown eyes.

"So what was it that made you finally realize you were in love with each other?" he asked brightly, pushing his plate aside to lean across the table eagerly. "I mean, you said you two knew each other forever growing up, but was there like...a singular moment or event where you both had that huge 'oh crap, I'm head over heels for this person' epiphany?"

You felt Bokuto tense almost imperceptibly at your side, shoulders squaring beneath the weight of Hinata's innocent questioning. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched his features rapidly cycle through a range of micro-expressions - surprise, nervousness, that telltale hint of panic that always preceded his infamous Emo Mode onsets...

Quick as a flash, you reached beneath the table and tangled your fingers through his, giving a gentle squeeze of reassurance. Already, you were racking your brain for some plausible, romantic anecdote to spin Hinata's way and defuse the tension before—

"Yeah buddy, there sure was!"

Bokuto's voice rang out, clear and strong and utterly devoid of uncertainty as he squeezed your hand in return. You froze, scarcely daring to breathe as you watched his face utterly transform - melting from apprehension into that achingly earnest warmth and sincerity he always managed to project as clear as the summer sky.

"Sure, we knew each other practically our whole lives before then," Bokuto continued easily, locking eyes with you as a small, impossibly tender smile bloomed across his face. "But I don't think either of us realized just how deep our bond extended past mere friendship or sibling-like affection until this one fateful afternoon back in our middle school days..."

As if in a trance, you watched Bokuto's gaze drift into the middle distance as his deep timbre washed over the table - rich and hypnotic in a way that raised gooseflesh across every inch of your skin. You were so enraptured that you barely registered the way Hinata, Atsumu, and even Sakusa seemed to lean imperceptibly closer as well, helplessly drawn into the gravity of Bokuto's recollections as he continued.

"It was the first real warm, sunny day kicking off spring that year if I'm remembering right," he murmured softly, brow wrinkling slightly in concentration. "You came over to my place straight after classes let out wearing that cute yellow sundress with the white daisies printed all across the skirt - the one you always said brought out the warmth in your complexion even though I thought you looked lovely in anything..."

He shook his head with a soft chuckle, swiping his thumb almost unconsciously along the plump ridge of your knuckles. You could only stare, utterly transfixed by the impossibly tender aura radiating off Bokuto as he recounted these seemingly mundane details from your shared childhoods.

"Anyway, I remember being so pumped to show off this new trick I'd finally gotten down for hitting my jump serve properly after weeks of struggling with it. We biked over to the neighborhood court I used to frequent constantly those days, remember? The one tucked away behind that old batting cage that was always deserted on weekday afternoons?"

You felt your brows furrow slightly as Bokuto's rich timbre washed over you, pulling you deeper into the recollection unfolding. The court he referred to rang a vague bell, but you couldn't quite place the specific details he seemed to recall with such vivid clarity.

"When we got there though, I noticed the whole area had been totally swept up and cleaned out - not a single loose pebble or speck of sand marring the cracked surface." Bokuto shook his head in amazement, eyes growing distant. "Which was wild, because that place was usually a total wasteland by that point most days after school. Every nook and cranny would be just littered with junk from the neighborhood brats always convening there, y'know?"

You nodded slowly, a strange sense of disquiet beginning to unfurl in your chest as his words conjured those stray flashes of familiarity that simply wouldn't quite coalesce into full memories just yet.

"But there you were, already standing there by the net with this cute little flushed face and that ridiculously oversized broom clutched in both hands!" Bokuto punctuated this observation with a rich chuckle, one palm not currently entwined with yours coming up to rasp along the stubbled cut of his jaw. "I remember putting the pieces together right then and just...staring at you in total awe, because you'd clearly busted your cute butt to make sure the whole area was polished up to perfection just for my sake before I even got there!"

A strange thrill shot up your spine at the sincerity brimming in his voice - the naked awe and affection he aimed your way as those warm amber eyes heated to simmering levels once more. Despite yourself, you found yourself leaning infinitesimally closer as if drawn into the gravity well of his recollections against your will.

"You played it all off with that trademark prickly bluster, of course," Bokuto continued with a sly grin that did funny things to your heart rate. "Insisting you just wanted to make sure I wasn't going to crack my skull open while trying new move."

He shrugged one solid shoulder, gaze searching yours with impossible warmth and tenderness. "But I knew the real truth even back then, babe. I could see it in the way you were watching me so intently with those bright, hopeful eyes - in the slight pink tint dusting your cheeks whenever I caught you staring at me while I ran through my warm up tosses..."

A soft, private smile bloomed across his features then, luminous enough to stop your breath in your lungs. "That was the very moment I realized you were so, so much more to me than just my oldest friend or surrogate sibling, you know? It hit me right then and there that you'd gone so far out of your way to do something so simple yet incredibly thoughtful and heartfelt, just to make me happy."

You could only stare mutely as Bokuto's larger palm found yours atop the table linens, engulfing your fingers in his calloused grasp with devastating tenderness. Every nerve ending in your body seemed to spark to blistering life at the contact - a lightning rod of awareness sharpening until it felt like you could discern each individual callous striating his palms, the subtle scent of fresh sweat and citrusy body wash that always seemed to cling to his sun-kissed skin...

"That was when I finally understood how deep my feelings had grown for you - how they were swiftly eclipsing the realm of childish affection or friendship entirely." Bokuto's voice emerged hardly above a hushed murmur, pitched for your ears alone despite the proximity of his teammates. He regarded you with burning intensity, as if willing you to see the truth blazing naked and exposed in every word. "You became my universe that day, babe. My every waking thought and source of joy, just like that..."

His stare lifted to lock onto yours with renewed intensity, clearly expecting some form of reciprocation or affirmation from you. But the words seemed to wither and die on your tongue as you took in the complex whirlwind of emotion swirling through those achingly familiar irises - so much raw gratitude and reverent affection bleeding through that molten golden glow that you swore you could actually feel the waves of heat undulating off him in physical pulses.

Bokuto huffed out another quiet chuckle at your continued, shell-shocked silence, swiping his thumb in one last caressing arc along your knuckles.

"Yeah, guess I'm probably starting to sound a bit loopy, huh?" His nose wrinkled into that boyish grin you'd always found so irresistibly endearing, though his gaze remained soft and terribly earnest as it clung to yours. "But hopefully that at least gives you sad sacks a little glimpse into the sorta stuff that made me realize real early on I could never hope to find a more perfect partner in crime than my best bro growing up."

You swallowed hard, mouth feeling like you'd attempted to swallow an entire handful of hot coals. The utter rawness and vulnerability etched into every nuance of Bokuto's expression sent ripples of scalding...something thundering through your nerve endings with dizzying rapidity. You struggled to place the torrential maelstrom of foreign sensations roiling in your gut - flickering fragments of nostalgia, affection, heated admiration all sluiced together into a conflagration of feeling that threatened to utterly consume you alive before ever finding solid definition.

Distantly, you registered the loud clatter of Hinata dropping his fork against his plate, the dull thud of Atsumu's boots striking the underside of the table in a startled jostle. But not even Sakusa shifting almost imperceptibly forward, dark eyes glittering with veiled intensity could penetrate the electric, encompassing bubble that had enveloped you and Bokuto in that singular, scorching moment of communion.

It wasn't until his gaze finally slid away, softening into something vaguely sheepish as he reached up to rub at his nape, that you managed to suck down a shuddering lungful of air. The simple, intrinsically Bokuto-esque gesture jarred you back into your surroundings enough to shake off the entrancing, suspended stupor clinging to your senses like rapidly evaporating ether.

"Anyway," he mumbled around a self-conscious chuckle, the tips of his ears dusting with a faint ruddy blush. "Maybe that was laying the sappiness on a bit too thick, huh? You know me though - always been an overly sentimental, heart-on-my-sleeve kinda romantic when it comes to the people who really ma—"

"No."

The soft, slightly hoarse denial seemed to startle Bokuto, effectively derailing the beginnings of his sputtered, babbling attempt to defuse the heavy tension still weighing over the table. He visibly startled, gaze darting back to yours with open surprise etching creases between his dark wings of brow.

"No, Kou...no that wasn't too thick at all," you managed, the words scraping themselves from your sandpaper throat against your will.

You'd meant to continue, to offer some form of coherent response in the wake of the emotional whiplash he'd just wrought upon you. But your lungs seemed to seize in protest instead, breath catching behind the blazing tightness squeezing through your chest as you simply stared back at your very best friend and confidante of nearly two full decades now.

In that breathless, ineffably charged beat of silence...you realized with sudden, gut-punching clarity that no matter what ridiculous, convoluted fiction or fable you spun to fool his teammates and their own jagged edges, Bokuto Kotaro would forever remain the greatest, most undeniable truth grounding every facet of your existence.

And in the flickering banked embers radiating from those beloved golden depths...you belatedly understood that you'd arrived at an event horizon where there could no longer be any hope of denying or restraining the inevitability of you both hopelessly, irrevocably colliding together in a spectacular Singularity.

"Hey..." The intimately hushed cadence of Bokuto's gravelly murmur lanced through the crackling tension like a lightning strike, searing your already overheated nerves into scorching new focus. "You okay over there, babe? Not gonna go spacey and float off on me after I unloaded all that nostalgic sap all over the place, are ya?"

His words registered, but only dimly - muffled and distant as though filtering through several layers of dense atmosphere. All you could seem to fully comprehend in that moment was the sight of that gentle, self-deprecating grin tugging one corner of his plush lips upwards. The way it softened those typically sharp, hawkish features into an expression so open and lushly affectionate that you felt your pulse trip over itself anew, stomach swooping inexorably with its own treacherous gravity.

"Kou, I..." The confession began thick and tremulous behind the vice squeezing your throat shut. Unbidden, you felt the corners of your mouth tilt upwards, mirroring his fond look completely against your will. "I...shit, I have no idea what I'm doing anymore, do I?"

Bokuto's grin gentled further at the admission, seeming to thaw even the final vestiges of tightly-coiled restraint lingering in the austere lines of his shoulders and posture. With a familiarity that spoke of two souls sharing the most intimate of proximities across countless lifetimes, he leaned in incrementally closer - that fiercely open gaze flickering between your eyes, settling briefly upon the telling dip of your pulse fluttering like a trapped hummingbird above your collarbones, skating hungrily across the plush curves of your mouth before meeting your stare once more.

"Just keep being you, babe," he murmured simply, the words hanging in a low, resonant thrum between you for a fraction of eternity before the world beyond seemed to catch up and snap back into focus once more. "That's always been more than enough to leave this poor sap hopelessly bewitched…"

The rest of the meal passed in a warm blur of laughter, stories, and easy camaraderie. Bokuto settled back into his usual over-the-top antics alongside his teammates, regaling the group with increasingly wild tales that had you all cracking up between bites.

You found yourself able to relax as well, basking in the affectionate familiarity permeating the atmosphere. Every now and then, you'd catch Bokuto flashing you a sidelong look, all quiet smiles and unguarded warmth shimmering in his ridiculous pretty eyes. It made something soft and fragile unfurl within your chest each time.

Before you knew it, the waiter was dropping off the check with an understated flourish. Atsumu craned his neck, whistling low at the total while Hinata made a noise of dismay at the exorbitant pricing. Only Sakusa looked unsurprised, already reaching for his wallet.

"C'mon guys, we all know this fancy-schmancy place was Koutarou's pick in an attempt to properly woo his lady love," he drawled, sliding his credit card free. "At least let the lovebirds cover this one since I'm sure the evening's 'festivities' are far from over, if you catch my drift."

Atsumu cackled at the sly dig while Hinata just sputtered awkwardly, ears blazing red. You simply rolled your eyes, though you couldn't quite smother the small grin tugging at your mouth.

In the end, Sakusa did insist on covering the hefty bill himself, waving away the others' half-hearted protests with his typical aloof assurances. Bokuto nudged you with an elbow and a conspiratorial wink while leaning close.

"Looks like you played the saucy seductress role a bit too convincingly there, gorgeous," he murmured against your temple, the words curling deliciously down your spine. "I think our prickly friend might've been genuinely flustered by your raw sexual charisma for once."

You made a small noise of amusement, though you let your hand drift beneath the tablecloth to rest atop his thigh in mocking reprimand. Almost instantly, Bokuto's teeth sank into that plush lower lip in a silent display of barely-restrained want that only amplified the simmering heat already starting to coil between you.

"Play your cards right, and I might even give you a more...intimate encore performance later, lover," you purred back, delighting in the way his eyelids fluttered shut briefly against your blatant provocation.

That delicious weight hung between you, thick and heady - until Atsumu loudly cleared his throat nearby. When your gazes snapped back up, the others were regarding you with varying degrees of disgruntled amusement and fond exasperation written across their faces.

"God, save it for the honeymoon suite you two!" Atsumu groused without any real bite. "If you're gonna keep eye-humping each other like that right in front of us, at least give us a head's up to vacate first, yeah?"

Hinata dissolved into a fresh round of flustered giggles while even Sakusa rolled his eyes skyward, fighting a smile of his own. Amidst the playful ribbing, you and Bokuto exchanged a sidelong look charged with renewed electricity - one that screamed of promises to be indulged very soon.

Eventually, everyone rose from the table in preparation to depart. You moved to follow, only to pause as Bokuto leaned in once more.

"Hey, did you maybe want to call it a night?" he murmured close to your ear, careful to keep his expression neutral as the others milled about nearby. "Or did my charming leading man act leave you craving a bit more one-on-one private time with yours truly later?"

You sucked in a sharp breath at the clear implication behind his words, well aware of the heated look he was undoubtedly aiming your way without even needing to meet his stare fully. For a brief heartbeat, you seriously considered agreeing - envisioning the two of you departing in a tangle of heated breath and roaming hands, rushing back to whichever private sanctuary you could find first to finally indulge this whirlwind of simmering desires between you...

But then good sense prevailed. With visible reluctance, you shook your head.

"As tempting as that sounded, I think decorum demands we make at least a token appearance for a bit longer if your rowdy friends have plans to continue this raucous evening elsewhere," you sighed, hating the small pout that tugged at Bokuto's lips unbidden. "At least for a little while, anyway."

He seemed to consider arguing, eyes darkening to molten gold in a way that promised deliciously deviant intentions should you change your mind. But in the end, Bokuto simply slipped his car keys from his pocket and pressed them into your waiting palm with a wolfish grin.

"In that case, gorgeous...do me a favor and go ahead and get the engine warmed up for me, yeah? Give us something to look forward to later when this whole charade inevitably winds down finally."

The sheer heat lacing his voice sparked tingles of anticipation straight to your core. Swallowing hard, you simply nodded wordlessly and accepted the keys from his calloused grasp.

You aimed for nonchalance as you retrieved your purse and swept from the restaurant's dimly lit interior, though the anticipatory thrum buzzing beneath your skin made it impossible not to throw a lingering look over your shoulder as you reached the foyer. Bokuto caught the silent summons instantly, liquid mercury gaze searing you in a wordless caress that only amplified the dizzying high building steadily within your bloodstream.

As you finally stepped out into the cool evening air, glass doors swinging shut behind you, it was impossible not to feel as though you were crossing over some indefinable threshold into uncharted territory. Already, you could feel the first pangs of restless need gnawing at the edges of your composure with each unhurried stride carrying you towards where Bokuto's car idled in the adjacent lot.

By the time you settled into the soft leather driver's seat, inhaling the clinging remnants of his cologne's earthy notes, the maelstrom of questions threatening to unravel your hard-won restraint threatened to boil over completely. You sank back against the headrest and blew out a shaky breath, fingers twisting in the hem of your dress.

What was happening here, in all actuality? This insane evening had started off as nothing more than a flimsy facade to indulge Bokuto's latest bout of unnecessary chaos. But then he'd begun conjuring those shockingly candid personal recollections with such heartfelt vibrancy and naked sincerity, leaving you rattled down to your core.

You worried your lower lip, suddenly desperate to know if everything about those stories had been genuine confessions from the secret chambers of Bokuto's heart...or merely another deceptively convincing act for the benefit of his teammates' prying eyes and probing questions.

God, but if he had been telling the truth behind all of it - laying his most sentimental inner self bare for your appraisal like some raw, exposed nerve ending quivering in the elements...what did that mean for the delicately balanced status quo of your relationship stretching back decades?

Uncertainty thrummed like a living thing, feeding off the echoing residue of Bokuto's words that only continued searing across your unsettled psyche with each passing minute. You needed answers, needed validation one way or another before allowing yourself to be swept any deeper into this rip current of escalating tension and undeniable...something that you could no longer ignore simmering between you.

Heaving another fortifying exhale, you sank your fingers into Bokuto's familiar leather seats and forced yourself to be patient. He would return soon enough with whatever plans the others had undoubtedly concocted by now. Then you would corner him, would demand the vulnerability you glimpsed tonight be laid bare once more in the name of unraveling this Gordian knot binding you into constricted agony the longer it went ignored.

For better or worse, you'd finally unearth the bedrock truth dwelling at the heart of this steadily shifting storm tonight...

Eventually, the spill of electric amber light announcing the return of the restaurant's revolving doors drew your gaze upwards. Sure enough, that familiar hulking silhouette soon emerged through the soft glow, the rest of his teammates filing out behind him in a loose cluster.

You watched, breath stilled somewhere in your throat, as Bokuto half-turned to exchange parting handshakes and backslaps with the others. Even from this distance, his smile shone like a supernova against the backdrop of Tokyo's glittering twilight skyline, brimming with boundless charisma and magnetic charm to the very last.

As if sensing your focus, he suddenly turned those molten irises your way across the distance separating you. The wink he favored you with was teasing and playful...but beneath it simmered a searing promise too heated to be anything less than entirely sincere and undisguised.

Your pulse kicked up another fevered notch in response, thighs clenching with restless anticipation even as Bokuto threw his head back in a rich peal of laughter at some parting jibe. When his shoulders finally turned and he began loping across the pavement in your direction, it almost felt like a physical phenomenon - as if the whole world had shifted slightly off its axis to better align with the singular gravity he projected.

Before you could even begin formulating greetings or pleasantries, Bokuto was already hauling open the driver's side door and ducking inside in one languid, graceful motion. The breath you'd been hoarding escaped in a shuddery exhale as his clean, crisp scent and physical presence overwhelmed your senses in an intoxicating rush.

He settled in beside you with that same unhurried nonchalance, shooting you a sidelong grin that did unspeakable things to your pulse point. A heavy pause lingered, thick and heady as he simply drank in your expression with lidded eyes.

"Well, babydoll..." Bokuto rumbled at last, tongue darting out to wet those lush lips in a tantalizing sweep you couldn't tear your eyes from. "I gotta say, we absolutely crushed that little performance back there, huh? Even those hardened skeptics couldn't deny our raw chemistry by the time the check rolled around, am I right or am I right?"

It took you a steadying inhale before you could unstick your tongue enough to respond properly, pulse thrumming wildly against the exposed hollow of your throat.

"Koutaro, did-"

The soft snick of his palm lifting cut off your faltering question before it could fully form. You held your breath, frozen in the act of leaning unconsciously closer as his calloused fingertips grazed your jawline in a whisper-soft graze. The tender stroke traveled downwards, mapping the delicate arch of your cheekbone and the slight dip in your cupid's bow with rapt intensity.

"You were magnificent, you know that?" he breathed out in a low, gravelly husk that had tingles erupting across every inch of your sensitized skin. "Everything about your raw confidence and that simmering sensuality you project...God, it drives me crazy just being in the same room as you most days."

His eyes slid shut on the final syllables, those impossibly long lashes fanning across the razor-sharp vees sculpting his high cheekbones. In the neon wash of the parking lot strobing across his face, his handsome features looked nothing short of transcendent - a true archetype of primal masculinity and searing intensity given living, sentient form before your very eyes.

You couldn't breathe. Could barely manage to swallow past the molten lava scorching the backs of your eyes and squeezing your throat into a vise as you drank in the sight of Bokuto Kotaro kneeling utterly at the altar of some unnameable, overpowering compulsion currently beckoning between you both.

When his eyes finally flickered open once more, the full force of that smoldering gaze struck you like an electrical charge directly to the solar plexus. Later, you might try to convince yourself that the rasping whine of pure, desperate _want_ that punched itself free from your chest had been another's entirely. But in that suspended eternity, it was impossible to deny or refute the pathways Bokuto's heated, worshipful regard ignited in your core.

Incrementally, his free hand lifted to join the other - twin callused brands scalding along the planes of your cheeks and jaw as he cradled your face with infinite reverence. You shivered helplessly at the covetous drag of his thumbs along the sleek columns of your throat, everything narrowing to the pounding of your pulsepoint being mapped and reverently traced by his deft, seeking touches.

"Kou..." The single syllable cracked and fractured on your tongue with all the strained resonance of fracturing stone. His name emerged ragged and desiccated with want, heavy with a lifetime of implications neither of you seemed willing or able to confront fully, even now.

You searched his heated gaze, feeling the world narrow until only the two of you existed within that smoldering vortex. Muscle by muscle, you forced your lungs to expand on a shuddering inhale, summoning your voice back from wherever it had fled.

"Was all that stuff you said back there..." You swallowed hard, mouth suddenly arid. "About those childhood memories and feelings...was it all real? Or just a convincing act for your teammates?"

A heavy pause lingered as Bokuto's expression cycled through a series of indecipherable micro-shifts. Just when you thought he might dodge the question entirely, his lips twitched toward that achingly familiar lopsided grin.

"What, you think I'm some sorta savant who can whip up heartfelt, introspective soliloquies full of poetic detail and raw truth on the fly?" One thick brow arched upward, eyes sparking with playful challenge. "You overestimate me, babydoll."

You held his pointed stare, refusing to be deflected so easily this time. A tense moment stretched out until Bokuto's expression sobered, shoulders slumping almost imperceptibly.

"No...no, you're right. That stuff back there about us as kids and how much you meant - mean - to me..." He exhaled roughly, fingers resuming their restless caresses along your jaw. "Every single syllable was the unvarnished, god's honest truth, gorgeous. I'd never lie or pull punches about how I really feel when it comes to you."

The naked sincerity in his tone struck you like a physical blow, causing your breath to stutter. You watched, mesmerized, as Bokuto's throat clicked in a convulsive swallow before pressing onward.

"All those things I reminisced about - the way you used to cheer me on through every little triumph or setback, be my fearless partner on whatever new misadventure we got tangled up in every other week...the way you saw me, really saw me through that kaleidoscope lens of yours that made me feel like the most important person in the whole goddamn universe?"

He shook his head slowly, eyes gleaming with something suspiciously like moisture in the low lighting.

"How could I ever fabricate or pretend about shit that fundamentally shaped who I grew into both on and off the court? Stuff that still sustains me and grounds me on my worst days when the rest of the world gets too blurry to make sense of?" One hand strayed upwards to thumb reverently at your cheekbone, featherlight and utterly intoxicating.

"You're my gravity well, [Y/N]. The warmth and sanctuary that this vagabond soul knows it can always return to without fear or reservation..." A lopsided, tender smile that pierced you straight through the heart. "So yeah, every unguarded, embarrassingly sincere word I spilled back there came straight from the most vulnerable and sacred chambers of my heart. You believe me now, don't you?"

The silence that greeted his softly implored question thrummed between you with heated weight. You could only gape at Bokuto, suddenly robbed of any other response beyond staring into those beloved sunburst irises gleaming with so much unspoken emotion and naked truth.

After several suspended eternities ticked by, you found your voice once more - slightly hoarse, but no less adamant in its conviction.

"So...you're telling me you're in love with me?" The words seemed to vibrate across your parted lips with the force of revelation. "After all this time as friends, as partners in every possible sense of the word...you've been carrying feelings for me all along that go far beyond that?"

Despite the enormity of your quietly uttered question, Bokuto didn't flinch or deflect. He simply held your gaze steadily, lashes dipping in a slow blink of wordless acknowledgment before those slender shoulders rolled in the smallest of casual shrugs.

"Well, duh," was his only verbal response - as succinct and casually devastating as a point-blank gunshot at close range.

The next few heartbeats stretched into an eternity of utterly bewildering suspension. Then, before your conscious mind could even begin parsing the rippling magnitude of Bokuto's admission, you were already moving. One second, you were gaping at the unshakable object of your oldest friend and eternal confidante laid emotionally naked before you. The next, your body acted of its own furious volition - launching itself bodily across the cramped interior until you collided with Bokuto in an explosive tangle of gasped breaths and roaming, frantically searching hands.

The first brush of his parted lips against yours detonated like a cosmic shockwave, shattering apart the last remnants of restraint and repression between you in one incandescent, full-bodied eruption. Bokuto groaned into the heated seal, falling back against the door with bruising force as his calloused palms came up to cradle your face.

You drank in the sound like a woman dying of thirst, slanting your mouth over his with desperate greed until your noses mashed and you could taste his sharp whimper on your tongue. Wasted years of rigid refusal and tamped-down desires pooled in your gut like molten lava, scalding every fiber of control you scrabbled to cling to until you could do nothing but surrender utterly to the sensation of Bokuto's lips searing themselves against yours with unbridled passion.

His arms wound around your arching spine, pulling you bodily into the cradle of his powerful thighs until you were both reduced to a tangle of thrashing, heated limbs. A low, visceral groan tore itself free from the deepest recesses of Bokuto's chest as your fingers sank into the feathery strands at his nape - swallowing down the sound greedily as you mapped every ridge of his full mouth in hungry reacquaintance.

Neither of you could be certain how long the two of you remained fused together like that, hips undulating against one another as hands roamed with frantic, impassioned urgency. Everything narrowed to the slick velvet seal of Bokuto's mouth, the warm salt of his skin beneath your lips and tongue as you dragged them reverently along his jaw. He trembled against you with barely restrained ardor, fingers clutching in your hair with possessive insistence as he gasped your name like a tattered prayer between each plunging reclamation of your lips.

By the time the dizzying need for oxygen forced you to draw apart, you both were utterly disheveled and wild-eyed - panting harshly with swollen lips and pupils blown wide by an entirely different brand of intoxication than either of you had experienced before. Bokuto stared up at you with naked hunger etched across his beloved features, thumbs sweeping along the sharp vees of your cheekbones with almost religious devotion tingeing his motions.

Unable to resist, you ducked forward to seal your mouths together once more in a far more tender, unhurried meeting full of wordless reassurance and affection. An undercurrent of new, unexplored intimacy and tenderness that had your very bones seeming to dissolve into boneless rapture with each torturously slow glide of tongue and caressing press of lips.

Bokuto sighed against your mouth, the sound vibrating through you both with raw longing. His big hands came up to cradle your face, fingertips brushing the soft baby hairs at your temples as he savored the languid glide of your mouths moving together. There was no rushed hunger or desperate need in his motions - just a willingness to fully immerse himself in this new level of intimacy blossoming between you both.

You nipped at his plush lower lip, tugging gently until he parted for you with a soft groan. The first sweep of your tongue against his was electrifying, stoking embers low in your belly as you mapped the slick velvet heat. Bokuto rumbled wordless approval, one hand sliding down to fist in the hair at your nape to angle your head aside for deeper exploration.

The next few moments stretched into a heated eternity of simply rediscovering one another through this new lens. There was no urgency beyond taking your time tasting, feeling, surrendering to the simple act of making out with a heady, smoldering intensity. Bokuto practically liquefied against you with each pass of your seeking tongue, broad chest vibrating against yours with quiet whimpers and gasping exhalations of pleasure.

Eventually, need for air forced you to part, sharing humid breaths between your slick, swollen lips. Bokuto immediately ducked in to mouth along the sharp line of your jaw, lips brushing against your racing pulse point. A full-body shudder ripped through you at the sensation - so new yet so familiar and thrilling all at once.

"God, babydoll..." he rasped, teeth grazing the juncture of your neck and shoulder. "You have no idea how many times I dreamed about getting to do this with you over the years."

You whimpered at the husky confession, tilting your head aside to bare more of your throat in blatant invitation. Bokuto took full advantage, suckling heated kisses and teasing nips down the long column until your fingers were fisted in his shirt, breath sawing harshly.

Then he was nosing aside the strap of your dress to blaze a path across your clavicle and into the soft swell where your breasts strained against the fabric. You arched into him with a soft keen, nipples tightening into aching points as he laved and tasted his fill.

"Fuck, Kou..." It took concentrated effort to form words when his wicked mouth was latching onto your arousal-flushed skin, tongue swirling tantalizing patterns. "If this is anything like those dreams of yours, how the hell did you ever keep your hands off me this long?"

He pulled back slightly, meeting your heavy-lidded stare with burning intensity. His pupils were blown wide, lips swollen and slick from your earlier kisses.

"Barely," he admitted, voice already wrecked. "It took every ounce of self-control not to shove you against the nearest surface and finally get my mouth all over you some nights."

The naked, unfiltered honesty in his tone was like a lightning bolt straight to your core. You surged up to reclaim his lips in another scorching, bruising kiss that stole your breath away. Bokuto groaned, broad palms smoothing down your sides to palm your ass in a firm, possessive grip and rock you against the rigid line of his cock straining in his slacks.

You gasped, nipping at his lips as you ground down against the delicious friction. "Take me to the backseat, I can't wait anymore."

He grunted, sucking a mark at the join of your neck and shoulder that would surely bloom into a dark bruise. The idea of wearing his claiming marks so openly only ratcheted your arousal higher.

"No can do, gorgeous," Bokuto rasped when he finally pulled away, giving your thighs an apologetic squeeze. "I've dreamed of getting my hands and mouth all over every gorgeous inch of you for far too long now. So no way in hell am I doing this in a cramped backseat, got it?"

You wanted to protest, feeling dangerously close to spontaneously combusting with how badly you needed him against you. But the raw honesty and tender promise shining in Bokuto's gaze had you melting back against the leather seat.

"Vision is you spread out for me in a big bed, all flushed and squirming while I take my sweet time unwrapping you." His voice dropped to that gravelly bedroom timbre that had goosebumps erupting everywhere. "Get to taste every sweet little inch, work you apart with my mouth until you're sobbing for me to bury myself so deep inside you'll never doubt how crazy gone I am again."

God... You swallowed hard against the renewed gush of slick arousal between your thighs, nipples visibly straining against the thin lace of your dress now. Bokuto watched you hungrily, smirk curling as he raked his gaze over your disheveled state.

"So keep that pretty little ass firmly planted in that seat, babydoll" he instructed, voice dropping into that commanding register that brooked no argument. "We're headed straight to your place so I can properly take you apart piece by delicious piece. No more waiting or holding back, yeah?"

You could only nod breathlessly and grip the seat as he threw the car into drive and pulled out from the parking lot.

No more waiting indeed. And now that this thrilling new boundary had finally been crossed...you were utterly aching to let your best friend and oldest confidant absolutely worship and ravage you in ways you'd both been denying yourself far too long.

The door had barely clicked shut behind you before Bokuto was on you again, broad palms cradling your face as he sealed your mouths in a searing, open-mouthed kiss. You whimpered against his insistent exploration, legs already feeling shaky as he walked you backwards down the hallway.

"Bedroom," he growled between searing nips at your lips. "Need you underneath me right fucking now, babydoll."

You nodded dazedly, moaning into the velvet glide of his tongue slicking against your own. The backs of your thighs hit the mattress and you allowed yourself to topple back, dragging Bokuto's solid weight down atop you with a muffled thump.

He immediately slotted one thick thigh between your parted legs, the ridge of his erection grinding deliciously against your aching core through too many layers. The rough drag of his slacks sent electric shocks zinging straight to your clit with each circling roll of his hips.

"Fuck..." Bokuto panted harshly against the heated brand of your neck, sucking fresh marks into the sensitive skin there. "Been going crazy thinkin' about getting you just like this - flushed and squirming and so turned on from my mouth alone, baby."

You keened at the blatant promise audible in his deep rasp, arching up against the delicious weight pinning you to the mattress. Bokuto growled approvingly, breaking away to hastily shuck his shirt over his head and revealing miles of tanned, defined muscle for your hungry gaze to roam over.

"That's it," he groaned, bracing on one forearm to mouth along the swell of your breasts peeking over the neckline of your dress. "You have no idea how many times I've envisioned undressing you nice and slow like this, gorgeous. Now I finally get to feast my eyes and hands on every luscious curve without any more fucking around."

True to his word, he tugged the zipper of your dress down with maddening slowness, peeling the fabric open in increments to reveal your bra and the toned planes of your abdomen. You shivered at the sheer heat and hunger in his gaze as it raked over your bared skin with scorching intensity.

"That's it, babydoll..." Bokuto encouraged with a ragged grunt, guiding you to sit up so he could peel your dress the rest of the way off in a whispery slide. "God you're so fucking gorgeous. A vision straight from the most delirious, hungry wet dreams of mine..."

You were left in just your matching black lace bra and panties, nipples peaked and straining against the delicate lace. Bokuto sucked in a sharp breath at the sight, irises nearly swallowed by pupils blown wide with naked lust.

"Stay just like that for me while I strip these last layers off, yeah?" he murmured, leaning in to ghost kiss-swollen lips along the swell of your breasts and down your sternum. "Need to be able to look my fill before I absolutely devour every bare inch and relearn your body with my mouth in a way I only dreamed of until now..."

You could only moan brokenly in response as Bokuto drew back just far enough to hook his fingers in the waistband of his slacks. With a few deft movements, he shucked the last of his clothes off as well until he knelt before you in all his naked glory - a living sculpture of sinewy, powerful muscle and undeniable masculine beauty.

Your gaze instantly dropped to where his thick, flushed cock curved up towards his abdomen - mouth watering at the prospect of finally getting your hands, lips, tongue all over him in return. Bokuto didn't miss your heated appraisal either, if his cocky grin was any indication.

"All yours, beautiful..." he growled in a voice made to rumble filthy promises against your slick heat. "Soon as I've had my proper taste first, that is. Want you falling apart around my tongue before I even think about sinking into that gorgeous body for real this time."

With that, he surged forward again, guiding you to lie back as his lips trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses down the valley between your breasts. Your back arched on a gasping whine as he tugged the lace cups aside and swirled his tongue around one peaked, aching nipple before drawing it into the wet heat of his mouth to suckle with shameless greed.

"Oh God, Kou!" The sharp suction was a lightning bolt straight to your clit, hips jerking up against his iron grip pinning you in place. Bokuto grinned around the tightened peak, releasing it with a soft pop before turning his attention to the other side.

You were positively squirming beneath him, thighs clamping reflexively around his hips by the time he pulled away with a final lick and kiss to each pebbled peak. He chuckled low and filthy, pressing a chaste kiss between the valley of your breasts before continuing his downward exploration.

"So damn beautiful..." Bokuto murmured, hooking his thumbs into the lacy band of your panties and peeling them off in one smooth motion. You were already soaked beyond belief, pussy swollen and aching for him to touch and claim and make you come harder than you ever had in your entire life.

He hummed in appreciation at the sight, settling his shoulders between your quivering thighs and gripping the back of each in a firm, implacable hold. Before you could utter a single sound, Bokuto ducked down and buried his face between your legs, the first long swipe of his tongue against your dripping slit eliciting a shattered, broken keen from your chest.

"Fuck!" The filthy curse ripped itself from your throat, head tossed back against the pillows as your thighs instinctively tried to clamp around his ears. Bokuto was having none of it, though - grip unrelenting as he held you pinned in place with your legs spread wide for his ravenous assault.

His tongue licked into you in a hot, unyielding glide that had you writhing and clawing at the sheets. The first flick of that wickedly talented appendage against your aching clit had your hips bucking sharply, but Bokuto's hold was absolute. All you could do was submit to his mouth's determined, skillful exploration of every sensitive dip and crevice, the molten heat building low in your belly cresting impossibly higher.

"Shit, Kou..." You choked out, the first flutters of orgasm already tightening your lower belly. Bokuto growled wordlessly against you, latching onto your clit and suckling hard enough to send you hurtling towards the edge with a strangled cry.

You were right there, poised on the knife's edge and ready to fall into ecstasy at the first nudge of his fingers filling your clenching channel. But before the first waves of release could crash over you, Bokuto released his hold on your throbbing bundle of nerves and eased away with a parting lick that left you sobbing.

"Kou, please! Please, I'm so fucking close, I need -" You couldn't even finish the sentence, reduced to a trembling, quivering mess beneath the scorching heat of his gaze as he stared down at you from between your thighs.

"I know, babydoll," he assured in a husky rasp, calloused fingers rubbing soothing circles against the delicate skin of your inner thighs. "But I've got every intention of making you fall apart so many times tonight that you'll be feeling the aftereffects for days. So no need to rush the first time, yeah?"

He punctuated the filthy promise with a languid lap from slit to clit, tongue curling against the pulsing bud until you were squirming once more. Then, without further preamble, Bokuto buried his face between your thighs with an utterly ravenous growl, spearing his tongue inside you in a deep, relentless thrust that had you seeing stars.

You writhed beneath his unyielding hold, completely helpless to his ministrations as he fucked you with his tongue and laved sloppy kisses and teasing flicks against your swollen clit. Every nerve ending felt like it was on fire, the pressure building low in your gut until you were absolutely certain it would combust at any moment.

Your entire body felt like a taut wire, the tension coiling tighter and tighter with each plunge of his wickedly talented tongue. Bokuto growled against you, the vibrations reverberating through your slick folds and straight to the aching, throbbing bud at their apex.

"I - oh fuck, Kou!" You could barely form a coherent thought, let alone a sentence with the way his mouth was driving you relentlessly towards the precipice of release. "Please, baby, I need you to -"

You couldn't even finish the plea before he was latching his lips around your clit, sucking hard enough to send you toppling over the edge with a strangled, gasping cry. Bokuto didn't relent - not even as he tongued against the throbbing bundle and lapped up every gush of fresh arousal coating your soaked inner walls.

Stars exploded behind your tightly shut eyes, the waves of ecstasy rippling through your quivering limbs until you were certain you'd melt right into the mattress. But Bokuto was relentless - the insistent pressure of his mouth not easing up for even a second as he carried you straight through the aftershocks and up the next cresting wave with a single-minded determination to reduce you utterly boneless and mindless.

By the time the sensation was overwhelming and you managed to tug weakly at his hair, the next release slammed through you like a freight train. The second orgasm was even more intense than the first, leaving you a shuddering, gasping heap as Bokuto finally withdrew and pressed a parting kiss to the sensitive flesh.

He hummed in satisfaction, the vibration thrumming through your hypersensitive core and drawing a shuddering whimper. "So fucking perfect for me, babydoll...you have no idea how long I've been wanting to watch you fall apart just like that on my tongue. Gonna spend the rest of the night taking my sweet time getting you off in every way possible, you hear?"

The gravel-laced promise had your inner walls clenching weakly, pussy already aching for more despite the two intense releases in quick succession. Bokuto grinned, pressing another soft kiss against your swollen, throbbing clit before easing away and crawling up your still-trembling body.

You immediately reached for him, fumbling weakly with his jaw and neck until his lips sealed over yours. The first brush of his mouth was electric, tasting of the musky sweetness of your release as his tongue delved between your lips to reclaim every corner. You moaned, wrapping yourself around his broad, powerful form with a desperation you'd never felt before.

"Want to touch you," you managed to gasp out when he finally pulled back with a husky groan, pupils blown wide with naked hunger. "Need to feel you against me, baby."

Bokuto grinned, dipping down for another searing kiss before obliging. You were a mess of tangled, sweaty limbs, but neither of you cared as he settled his weight atop you. His cock throbbed against your aching, throbbing core, the slick, rigid heat of it rubbing against your slick, swollen flesh in the most delicious friction.

You both groaned in unison at the sensation, bodies slotting together perfectly. Bokuto ducked in to kiss you senseless again, teeth tugging on your bottom lip and tongue plunging past the seam to lick and stroke against yours. His thick, muscular frame felt like a shelter above you, pinning you in place and shielding you from everything but him.

"You have no idea how long I've thought about this moment, gorgeous." He ground down against your sopping slit, the tip of his cock brushing teasingly against your swollen, throbbing clit. The jolt of electricity nearly had you coming right then and there, thighs clenching around his waist.

"I've fantasized about getting to taste you, make love to you, hear you screaming my name until you lose your voice." Bokuto's words were punctuated by the slow, torturous roll of his hips. Each thrust brought his rigid shaft to slide along the drenched cleft of your pussy, the tip teasing your entrance with each pass.

"You're so fucking beautiful when you come apart, babydoll," he growled, lips ghosting across the shell of your ear. "Just the sexiest thing I've ever laid eyes on. And now I get to see it over and over again, every day from here on out. Fuck, I'm the luckiest man alive."

His words had a fresh surge of arousal pulsing through you, the need to have him filling and stretching and claiming your body beyond anything else. Bokuto groaned as you clenched around nothing, a fresh bead of precum smearing against your dripping folds.

"Kou," you moaned, nails digging into the taut flex of his shoulders as his cock slid through your soaked core once more. "I need you. Inside. Right. Fucking. Now."

He smirked, sealing your mouths together in a filthy, bruising kiss that made you see stars. Then he was reaching between your bodies to angle his cock, the tip kissing your entrance. The anticipation was a physical ache, but still Bokuto held steady - staring down at you with that molten intensity.

"I love you," he breathed, voice thick with emotion. You swallowed hard, a fresh wave of affection and desire and lust swamping you as his gaze pierced straight to your soul. "I've loved you for years, babydoll. And I intend on making you mine, in every way possible."

You nodded breathlessly, wrapping yourself around him as much as humanly possible. Bokuto dipped his head down, pressing a searing kiss to your temple as he began to sink inside with a single, powerful thrust.

Both of you moaned at the sensation, bodies locking together perfectly as his cock sank to the hilt inside your sopping, clenching heat. You'd never felt more full in your entire life - stretched and aching around him in the most delicious way.

Bokuto didn't give you any time to adjust before pulling out and sinking back into the wet clutch of your walls, the angle so perfect it was like he was made to fit you. His lips captured yours in a hungry, open-mouthed kiss, his next thrust punching a ragged cry from your lungs.

You clutched at his broad shoulders, the muscles bunching and flexing beneath his golden skin with each powerful snap of his hips. Bokuto was relentless, driving into you with a single-minded focus that sent shocks of ecstasy jolting through your core with every brush against the spongy bundle of nerves inside.

It didn't take long for your climax to build, the molten heat pooling low in your gut. You were reduced to a whimpering, writhing mess beneath his iron-willed determination to claim and wreck and own you. The pleasure was almost too much, and when Bokuto dropped his hand to thumb rough circles against your clit, you were utterly undone.

You sobbed, the dam of pleasure cresting and crashing through your trembling form. Bokuto didn't let up though, not even when the intensity was on the verge of becoming overwhelming. His thumb never stopped the firm, steady pace, drawing you higher and higher until your entire body was alight with pleasure.

"You have no idea how beautiful you look right now, babydoll," Bokuto growled in a voice that was pure sex and sin and everything in between. "Falling apart and coming around my cock like this is the best goddamn view in the world. And now I get to have it all the time, every day for the rest of our lives."

You nodded frantically, unable to even formulate a response as he continued to grind and rut against your tender, swollen core. Another release was imminent, and he knew it too - the pace of his thumb ratcheting up until the pressure was white hot and ready to combust at any moment.

Bokuto sealed his lips over yours, swallowing down your cry as the final release slammed through you. Your orgasm was even more powerful than the others, leaving you breathless and reeling and feeling completely wrecked. Bokuto was still rocking into you, chasing his own high now, and it wasn't long before he was following right behind you with a roar and a flood of warmth against your still-pulsing inner walls.

"Fuck!" he snarled, pumping into you with short, hard thrusts. His cock twitched, the thick length twitching and throbbing within your clenching depths. You felt the warm gush of his release coating you from the inside, clinging to your gummywalls as he buried himself as deep as humanly possible.

Aftershocks trembled through you both, and Bokuto slumped atop you in a sweaty, tangled heap. You welcomed his weight, arms wrapping around his neck and tangling in the damp strands of his silver hair. Neither of you spoke for several long moments, content to bask in the afterglow and each other's presence.

"So..." Bokuto murmured eventually, rolling the two of you so he could cradle you against his chest. You looked up to meet his amber gaze, noting the satisfied, self-satisfied grin. "Think you'll be ready for round two soon?"

You blinked, then arched a single brow in an incredulous expression. "Seriously? Already?"

He chuckled, the rumble vibrating against your cheek where it rested above his heart. "Well yeah. We've got years of sexual frustration to make up for, don't we? So we should really get started on that."

You huffed out a laugh, swatting playfully at his chest. "Fine, you ridiculous man. But we're gonna have to take a shower and hydrate first. I need to have my strength up if we're gonna do this properly."

Bokuto smirked, one large palm splaying across the bare swell of your ass. "Well, I suppose we can get some food and water in us. Then maybe round two can involve that shower, eh?"

You snorted, the sound trailing off into a squeal as he rolled you both off the mattress and carried you to the bathroom bridal-style. Bokuto was already sporting an impressive semi, and when you glanced down, the sight was enough to make your pussy throb with renewed need.

"Well then," you managed, licking suddenly dry lips as Bokuto set you down in front of the mirror and caged you against the counter. "I guess round two is starting early then, huh?"

His grin was positively predatory, and when his teeth latched onto the curve of your neck, you gasped in a mixture of pleasure and pain. His voice was a dark rumble, a promise that you felt straight to your core.

"That's the idea, babydoll."

I Pick a Tail Number and We Could Be Tourists

CHAPTER SUMMARY: you're stranded out of town and it's all Megumi's fault. Time to find a hotel to crash in!

boyfriend!yuuji itadori x f!reader x bully!megumi fushiguro

WARNINGS : 18+, alcohol consumption, arguing, name calling, strong language lmao, PG chapter tbh!

WORDS : 9.2k

notes : dangerously close to running out of old chapters to edit and repost LOL

       LAST CHAPTER ┊ MASTERLIST ┊ NEXT CHAPTER

—

Megumi didn’t wait for you as he re-entered the aquarium and you had to work double time to keep up with his brisk strides.

He said that you should go inside together so you could figure out this mess you found yourselves in; and yet it sure feels like he’s trying to leave you behind.

He only slows down when he starts to text, which of course, piques your interest. It’s probably his dad or his sister, letting them know what happened and asking for a ride. He comes to a complete stop as you arrive at the café. Megumi pulls out a chair, he intended it to be for himself, but when he looks up and notices your worried gaze, he gestures it to you and takes another seat.

You must look terrified if even Megumi is showing you that much kindness.

“Are you texting Toji?” you ask him, and he scoffs immediately.

“No? Why would I?”

“Because we are fucking stranded and you said we were going to plan what we are going to do!” you whisper-shout at him, doing all you can to remain level-headed and keep your fury to a minimum. You’re so overwhelmed and angry you know the smallest push will have you freefalling into tears.

“I’m gonna call that asshole teacher of ours and see if they can turn around.” Megumi tells you, scrolling through his phone until he lands on your lecturer’s phone number. You hear a faint ringing through the speaker again and again. A vision of rage flares across Megumi’s features as the ringing goes to voicemail.

“Call Toji!” you demand. It prompts Megumi to kiss his teeth and roll his eyes to look at you, he studies your body language and expression, and he has to hold back a smile when he sees how serious you are. “Or I will.” the threat causes Megumi’s vague amusement to fade into annoyance as he adjusts his seating position to sit up straight.

“Go on then.” he challenges, moodily. He rests his ankle over his knee and slouches more in his seat, avoiding eye contact with you as he proceeds to play on his phone and ignore the gravity of the situation you’ve found yourself in. You tut, quickly finding Toji’s name in your contacts and dialling.

Ring… Ring… Ring…

“What did he do?” he huffs, answering the phone sounding a little out of breath.

“N-Nothing, Toji. Well he, I guess he—“

“What? What’s going on, princess?”

Megumi’s eyes are burning into yours as he warns you to choose your next words carefully. Part of you wants to protect him; you aren’t sure if it’s out of guilt for your tattling earlier this morning or if it’s out of fear for what he’ll do to you. Your mouth hangs open as you consider, and then turns to a smile that you’ll hope Toji will hear through the phone.

“He’s been fine. But, uh, we missed the bus home.”

“Was it his fault?”

“W-Well, umm…”

“Just tell me sweetheart. Was it his fault you missed the bus?” he questions, a stern, authoritative tone in his speech. You do all you can to remain composed and not expose yourself to Megumi. A small little gulp travels down your throat as you find the confidence to croak out a singular word.

“Technically…”

“Put him on.”

“But—”

“Put him on the phone right now.”

He’s never spoken to you like that before. It was a condensed version of how you hear him address Megumi. You quickly hand the phone to his son and hear a quiet ‘for fuck sake’ under his breath as he presses your phone to his ear.

He looks cute, you think, with a pink love heart phone case on the side of his head. With this and the colouring book, you’re starting to think he’s not all bad.

Maybe he even has a softer side.

He at least has a sort of nice side if today is anything to go by.

You’re brought out of your soft ideation as you see a vein bulge against Megumi’s temple and his teeth grit whilst his father screams bloody murder at him down the phone. Even without speaker phone turned on, you can still hear him.

“Enough!” Megumi bites back, finally, and Toji actually pipes down once he hears his son snap. “Can you come get us or not?” he hisses through his teeth. His eyes bulge open as he hears a response he hadn’t expected. “What do you mean no? Where the fuck are you right now? It’s loud.”

“I mean no, shithead. I’ll talk to you about it later, I can’t get you though. I’m sorry, kid. Tsumiki is at work too so she can’t.” Toji tells him. Megumi sighs and shakes his head in your direction. It’s odd, considering Toji said he’d drop anything and everything to rescue you if needed be. But you suppose things happen, life gets in the way, it can’t be helped. You know he would if he could. “Give her the phone back.”

He does, holding it out for you to take. He gets up, trudging towards the barista to avoid listening to whatever his father is going to say to you.

“I’m so so sorry I can’t come get you, baby. You’re a credit card kid though, right? I’ll be able to wire you the money tomorrow if you wanna get a cab back. It’s only fair I fucking pay since it’s my dumb kid's fault.”

“Three hours in a cab? I can’t, I’m not really talking to my parents right now and I’d feel obliged to if I spent that much money on their card.” you tell him. He nods, despite you being unable to see it. He understands. “Megumi’s gonna try and ring our teacher again, maybe they’ll come back for us.”

“Yeah, maybe.” he responds, “I know it isn’t ideal but… if there’s no one else, maybe you could book a hotel room for the night or something?”

“Oh! Absolutely not!” you reply. The chipper tone in your voice with such a funny answer makes him snicker down the phone. “I’ve just remembered Gojo exists, I’ll call him!” you beam, impressed with yourself as the idea strikes you.

“N-No, princess, wait—!”

“Bye Toji!” you hang up, albeit a little guiltily. But you waste no time searching your contacts for Gojo.

You jump a little when you hear the sound of glass thump against the table you’re sitting at. He got you and himself milkshakes. Banana for you and strawberry for him. There’s something quite endearing about Megumi and the colour pink.

“Thanks. Did you know banana is my favourite or was it a guess?”

“I’m gonna try that fucking idiot teacher again.” Megumi speaks, totally ignoring your question. There’s no way he could have known it was your favourite, you’ve never told him and you doubt Yuuji had. He gets up and walks away from the table as he listens to the mind-numbing ring of his phone attempting to connect him.

Your call to Gojo is useless. His smarmy voice immediately grates on you as he asks how you got yourself in such a predicament. It only edges his theory more that you have a thing for Megumi now that you’re stuck with him. And you are stuck, since he’s also unable to help.

“Didn’t think you’d need me today so I’m out of town. How about your favourite Papaguro?” he taunts.

“He can’t. I don’t know what he’s doing but he said he can’t.” you tell him, coldly, hoping your tone of voice will quell his curiosity and put an end to his teasing.

“Oh really? How interesting. Let me talk to Megumi—”

“Goodbye, Gojo.” you cut him off before he can continue anymore. Your blood is boiling, but you manage to relax as you see a stream of texts from Toji begging you not to call Gojo.

Oops.

Megumi returns, tossing his phone onto the table. You think if he fell into his seat any harder he might have put a hole through the floor. He looks furious. A face like thunder and his arms folded across his chest. His foot begins tapping against the floor speedily, almost like a tick of some sort and soon it travels up his leg so that he’s bouncing it. You don’t stare, but you look over to him wondering when he’ll be ready to talk. He looks at you when you lean forward to sip the straw of your milkshake.

“I thought it was weird that they left without us,” he starts, copying your actions and slurping the pink liquid he purchased through his straw. “Whenever I’ve been on trips in the past. They say a certain time to be back, but they never actually leave until everyone is accounted for on the bus.”

“Right? But this isn’t like school, we’re adults. It’s university. So they don’t fuck around when it comes to this stuff, I guess.” you respond. He shakes his head though, disregarding your statement.

“I went on a trip with my old university and they waited for a bunch of mature students who were late back to the bus. Like, thirty minutes late. They don’t leave students behind on trips, ever. Unless…”

“Unless?”

“Guess what that useless excuse for an educator just told me.” Megumi smirks. You shake your head, giving up on his little game before you even begin. You see his eyes roll over white before he leans in closer to you across the table, his chest almost spilling his milkshake over. “Apparently I sent a text to those stupid ugly girls telling them that we caught a ride home from Toji. And that idiot believed them.”

“Did you?”

“What?”

“Did you text them, Megumi? Because this seems like something you’d definitely do to try and fuck with me.”

“Don’t be dense. I’m not fucking with you anymore, am I? If I was fucking with you I would have left you here alone.” he assures you. You nod, finding his explanation believable enough to dispel any doubt. You’re at least glad he isn’t angry with you for doubting him; he’s given you more than enough reasons to, after all. “How was your call with Gojo?”

“It’s a no-go,” you smile. You even manage to coax a little smirk out of Megumi as well. “He’s out of town, busy. And I assume a charming boy such as yourself doesn’t have any friends who could get us.”

“I assume the girl who pissed herself at Independent doesn’t have any friends either.” he bites back. He scrunches his eyes as soon as the words leave his mouth. Regret, you deduce. You look away from him to stop yourself from crying, and you know he won’t apologise to you for saying it.

Keep it together. Don’t let him see you cry.

“Call your parents.” Megumi demands.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“I said no. I’m not fucking talking to them and you’re not going to bully me into doing it. Especially after what you just said. I cannot believe I thought—”

“Don’t fucking start. Sorry, alright? Just slipped out.” he mumbles, and you huff out a sigh. It’s a huge deal, honestly. You didn’t think he was capable of apologising. Hell, you didn’t even know he knew the word sorry. You shake your head, dismissing him and his bullshit as you try and come to terms with your situation. “No Toji or Gojo or bus coming back. No cab. No friends. What’s left, O’Keeffe?”

“I- Toji suggested something but I said no to that, too.” you hesitate to tell him. He looks at you, curiously, waiting for you to elaborate. A scoff escapes you as you recall the idea and debate on telling him or not. It can’t hurt to mention it, you suppose. “A hotel.”

“He’s smart sometimes, I’ll give him that. Why did you say no?”

“I don’t want to stay here any longer than necessary with you, let alone share a room.” you tell him bluntly, and he laughs at your brazenness. He catches himself, though, his face returning to the stoic expression it’s used to. He can’t let you think he finds you funny.

“Why would we share? The rooms will be dirt cheap. It might not be what you want to hear, but, we’re stuck here for tonight at least.” he tells you. And unfortunately, you’re starting to think he’s right. You’re shit out of luck. There’s no escape from him and you are stranded in town until someone can come and get you both. Of course, the reasonable thing to do would be to call your parents and just get over your petty grudge and talk to them. But it wasn’t a viable option.

You can’t.

You just can’t.

You pull your laptop out of your bag and connect with the hotspot on your phone. Megumi is squinting incredulously. As if you’re the type to come up with evil plots and schemes.

“I’m looking up hotels in town, apparently there’s only three. Do you want to call?” you wonder. He grabs your laptop and turns it to face him, dialling the number for the first hotel. You start calling the second and it rings for an awfully long time.

“This one’s fully booked, give me the last one.” he demands, you turn your screen for him to see and he attempts the next number.

“Oh hello, I was wondering if you had any rooms available for—”

You’re cut off by the most unwelcome answer you could have possibly imagined. The look on Megumi’s face is telling you that he doesn’t have a much better answer for you either. His teeth are grinding and his face is almost completely red. Instead of one bulging forehead vein you think you can see three of them.

“No rooms.”

Fuck.

“I— We’ll take it. Is it okay if we pay on site? I’m not sure how many days… Yeah, sure. That’s fine, uh, Fushiguro for the booking, I guess. Thanks so much.” you sigh, hanging up the phone.

“Nice one, O’Keeffe. And you’re putting it in my name so Toji has to pay, real smart. At least we’ll have our rooms for the night and we can get some—”

“Our room.” you correct him.

“What?”

“They only had one fucking room available for us.”

“No.”

“It’s two double beds so it’s not like we’re sharing. Listen, I’m not thrilled about it either, Megumi.” you snipe at him, unwilling to tolerate his attitude when you’re already in a foul mood.

“If you weren’t being such a petty, stuck up, bitch, your parents could have—”

“You can eat shit along with my parents. Fuck this,” you moan, standing to your feet and heading for the exit. You’re quickly stabbing the letters of the address into Google Maps so you can walk your way to your hotel.

Megumi knows he’s going to have to catch up with you at some point, but he’s stubborn, unable to admit defeat or appear weak.

But he is at fault for everything. He is the one that got you both into this mess and he is the one that keeps pushing your fucking buttons.

He does get up, though. It takes him a while to see you when he gets outside into the pouring rain. But when he does, it doesn’t take long to reach you. And almost as if to protect his fragile masculinity, he deems it necessary to overtake you like he’s leading the way. Guiding you to safety.

He doesn’t even know where he’s going, looking over his shoulder every few seconds to make sure he’s going the right way. He stops at an intersection looking completely out of his depth. You don’t help him, if he’s so insistent on leading the way then he can take it from here.

You don’t mind catching hypothermia in pursuit of proving a petty point.

His eyes wander around. And suddenly they settle. He knows he’s lost and clueless about what he’s doing. But ever the bullshitter, he comes up with a valid excuse for a pause in the journey.

“Should we get some clothes?” he asks. You scrunch your face up, not understanding why such a random question left his lips. He points in the direction of a department store, hoping to clarify his reasoning. “We only have what we came in and we’re drenched. I hope you aren’t planning on sleeping naked since we’re sharing a room.”

You suppose he has a point.

“Fine. Let’s go, I’m not buying your shit, though.”

“Bank of Toji, O’Keeffe. A pair of piece of shit credit card kids stranded in the middle of nowhere. Classic.”

“I’m not a piece of shit credit card kid, Megumi.” you inform him.

“Oh yeah? Who’s paying for that cosy little love den again. You and Yuuji must be working so hard to pay the bills.”

That shuts you up fairly quickly. Maybe he’s right. Are you really nothing but a trust fund baby? A useless girl who can’t get by without help from her parents. You never thought about it before, but it seems that way the more you think about it.

They’re the only reason you’re able to spend as much as you want at the drop of a hat.

They’re the only reason you have a nice house to live in instead of a gross little shoebox dorm room while you’re studying.

Megumi is a lot of things. A lot of awful things you couldn’t even begin to list. But it’s not often that he lies. And it’s even rarer that he’s wrong.

The store is nothing special. It’s nice and cheap which makes you feel real good inside. You may be spending your parents’ money, but at least it isn’t anything for them to call you up about.

You pick out a few outfits and some pyjamas to wear in the hotel room. You look over one of the clothes rails and see Megumi flirting with one of the shop assistants.

You feel hot all of a sudden. Angry. Why is he fucking flirting with her? Is now really the time to be doing this? He’s acting like everything is fine. Normal. Like you aren’t stuck here for however long.

You aren’t sure why, but something snaps in you. Before you can even ask yourself if it’s a good idea you’re marching up towards the girl and Megumi, rudely intercepting their conversation.

“I’m done buying stuff. Have you got everything?” you ask him.

“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t— Is this your girlfriend?” she asks. You scoff quickly and Megumi laughs at her assumption.

“Long story. Here, babe,” he smirks as he holds her hand and pulls a biro out of his back pocket. He scribbles his phone number on the top of her hand and winks at her. “Might be in town for a few days, call me up if you wanna have some fun.”

“Ugh.” you mutter, earning an elbow in the ribs from him.

“O-Okay, Megumi. I’ll call you. And nice to meet you, uh—”

“Bye.” you speak, assuming she was about to ask your name. You had no intention of giving it to her and watching them drool over each other for a second longer. “Not very professional of you, is it? Flirting with customers?” you tell her as you walk towards the checkout counter. She scoffs lightly, looking at Megumi for reassurance.

He does nothing but laugh, shrugging his shoulders as he walks after you. He’s silent for a while as he watches the woman at the counter ring up your purchases. You’ve got a face like thunder and he can’t even begin to describe how amused he feels. He waits for you to pick up your shopping bags before putting his own clothes down and waiting for the same service.

“What’s wrong with your face?” he asks you.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re pissed. Clearly. But I’ve never seen you look like that before. Is it…”

“Don’t you dare.”

“Jealousy?”

“You’re a fucking idiot. I’m not jealous. I don’t want you bringing girls back to our hotel room and listening to you cum in thirty seconds and think you’re impressive.”

“Right.”

He picks up his bags and heads for the exit. You know he’s winding you up on purpose when he winks at the girl again. It’s like he’s pouring salt and vinegar into a wound just to see how long it will take you to scream. You’re already fragile. Vulnerable. Lonely. He’s treating you as if you’re some social experiment to see how much he can get away with. He knows it’s a lot. He’s put you through a lot already.

What else is left?

—

You finally make it to the hotel.

Megumi had given in and decided to let you show him the way while he attempted to get through to his dad again. It took a few calls until he answered. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary either, both of them yelling and getting angry at each other until they finally got down to what they needed to talk about.

Paying the front desk.

He hands the phone to the man checking you in while he takes down his card details.

“Could you speak up, sir? It’s a little loud.” he requests.

“I said that earlier. Where the fuck is he?” Megumi wonders, facing you. You shrug your shoulders, assuming he didn’t actually expect you to answer.

How are you meant to know? It’s not like you're in cahoots with Toji just because he has an attentive interest in you and your wellbeing.

Megumi might annoy the life out of you and make your life hell at any opportunity, but you’re not the type of girl to keep information from him just to get the upper hand.

“All sorted. We’ve got his details, enjoy your stay.”

“Can I ask why it’s so busy? I noticed a lot of uh… interesting clothes at the store. And this was the only hotel with a room, is there a reason?” you ask him.

“It’s our big town festival this weekend. The anniversary of its founding. We get dressed up in gaudy clothes. Hold a parade. A beach party. Don’t be fooled by the weather, it’ll be scorching for the parade.”

“We need the key to the room.” Megumi states, bluntly. Clearly not giving two shits about the upcoming festival. The man nods and holds the key out to him.

“There’s a shop around the corner that sell condoms and lube.” he tells you both.

“He’s NOT my fucking boyfriend!” you yell, storming towards the stairs with your bags. Megumi laughs, again, saying goodbye to the receptionist as he follows after you. “The fuck do I look like? As if I’d date someone like him.” you mumble to yourself.

“You’re gonna hurt my feelings.” Megumi teases.

You ignore him, picking up the pace and running up the stairs so you can escape him. You know you need him to unlock the door to the room, but you need at least a few seconds of peace from him.

You can’t stand it.

You can’t stand him.

He doesn’t chase you. He doesn’t pester you anymore. You rest your back against the wall beside the door to your room as you wait for him. You’re almost at your breaking point. You can feel it brewing. Your chest is aching and your mouth is filling with water. You can even feel your jaw begin to ache.

What could you have done to deserve this?

Megumi arrives and doesn’t say a word. You’re thankful. You aren’t sure if he’s doing it for his benefit or yours. Does he know if he prods at your sensitive skin any more you’ll crumble to dust?

The room is quaint. You take the bed closest to the bathroom; leaving the one nearest to the window to him. Both of you drop your bags on each of your beds. He’s pacing around a little while you sit on the mattress.

Looking around is getting to you.

This is real.

You’re really stuck in a fucking hotel room with Megumi Fushiguro. What would Yuuji think if he could see you now? What were you fucking thinking by giving him the benefit of the doubt? Maybe you’d have been better off if you let those girls bully you on the coach and harass you in the art gallery.

At least you’d be on your way home.

At least you wouldn’t be stuck with him.

The spiralling thoughts in your mind are the final straw. You burst into tears and you couldn’t be anymore humiliated if you tried. Megumi looks over his shoulder to see you sobbing.

He feels awkward.

He’s not used to seeing anyone get emotional, let alone you. He’s only seen you like this because of him. And he can’t deny that this is his fault as well.

So, why can’t he find it in him to feel bad?

He goes in the bathroom and picks up some toilet roll for you. He doesn’t hand it to you, though. He just throws it at you. It makes you laugh a little. It’s just so him. You have to admit despite his obscure approach, he’s really been trying with you since the coach trip. You get yourself a handful of toilet roll and start dabbing it at your cheeks.

“Why did you do this to me, Megumi?” you ask so quietly it’s barely audible. “You keep fucking with me. And… this was without trying. Or was it planned?”

“Shut up. What good is this doing, huh? We’re in this, now, there isn’t shit we can do about it so suck it up.”

“You walked out of the aquarium and fucked everything up. You said you were going to piss but you were outside on the phone! Who was it? Tell me!”

“I won’t tell you again, princess. No business of yours so shut your fucking mouth.”

“It is my business when you get me into a situation like this because of it. You made this happen. And now you’re planning fucking dates and doing all that you can to make this experience even more miserable than it already is!” you yell, eyes and nose running quicker than you can keep up with. You must look a total mess and it’s making you even more embarrassed. It’s just more ammunition to fuel him with, more he can hold over your head and make you feel shit for.

“Who I’m on the phone with is my business. Who I go on dates with is my fucking business. Stop being a bitch. Are you on your fucking period? You’re so quick to shut down any chance of you being my girlfriend but you’re acting like you are since you’re being a nagging cunt.”

“Megumi—”

“Shut up.”

“Please… Please, don’t bring her back here.” you beg quietly. It makes him huff in annoyance as he turns away from you. You see him shaking as he grabs hold of the wooden dressing table as he tries to stabilise himself. “You at least owe me that, Megumi. You’ve done so many fucked up things. Unforgivable things, but here we are. I’m… I’m sobbing in a hotel room that I’m sharing with you. I’ve never asked you for anything other than to stop bullying me. But please, please don’t bring her here.”

You see his eyes screw shut in the mirror. He’s biting his lower lip as he thinks everything through.

You’re right.

He knows you’re right.

There’s an awful lot that he’s done to you and you’ve forgiven him without him even saying sorry. It shows how big of a person you are. How kind and sweet and genuine you are.

But he doesn’t care.

He just doesn’t fucking care.

Why does he get such a kick out of making you suffer? There’s something so enthralling and hypnotic about you that he can’t get over. You’re always in his fucking head and even seeing you bawl your eyes out he can’t find it in him to feel bad.

“FUCK!” he shouts, angrily trudging over to his bed to pick up one of the bags.

It’s the bag he held up earlier outside of the aquarium when you finally found each other. You never got a chance to ask what was in it. It had the logo for the aquarium on it, but you were too distraught and angry to question what he had purchased.

“Here.” he speaks, hurtling the bag towards you. You duck out of the way before it can hit you.

“Megumi!” you yell back, wiping your tears with your hands as your eyes widen in anger at him. He’s not paying attention though. Searching through his pockets for a cigarette and heading towards the exit.

“Goin’ for a smoke. Sick of the sight of your miserable fuckin’ face.” he tells you, slamming the door behind him. You throw yourself backwards so that your head is in the pillows. You’ve never felt so alone as you practically wail into the desolate hotel room.

What you’d give to have Toji pick you up right now and take you home.

To tell Megumi off for being so cruel to you again. Or even just to have Yuuji hold you in his arms. You’d kill to hear his voice. Hell. You’d even settle for a text at this point.

Why is he avoiding you?

You manage to calm yourself down the longer Megumi is gone from the room.

Deep breaths. One. Two. Three. Four.

You get up and look at yourself in the mirror. You’re thankful you packed some of your makeup into your tote bag for emergencies. Your face is a mess, you look like you’ve just been dumped on your wedding day.

You decide to go to the bathroom to rinse it off completely. The cold water splashing on your face almost stops your heart. But once your face is clear, you dab the water dripping down with a towel.

As you steady your breathing, you run your fingers through your hair once you leave the bathroom. The bag that Megumi tossed at you catches your eye. He threw it like it was yours. But you didn’t get anything from the aquarium. You’re approaching it like it’s a fucking bomb. He’s probably put insects in it to bite you or filled it with something else equally disgusting.

But you can’t help having a curious nature.

The bag is light when you pick it up. A single tear rolls down your face when you look inside.

“Oh, Megumi…” you sigh.

It’s the shark. The shark plushie from the aquarium you thought was so adorable. It doesn’t excuse everything he’s done. Anything he’s done, actually.

It certainly isn’t worth being late for the bus.

It isn’t worth you being stuck in this hotel room. It didn’t excuse everything he’d done and how he treated you in the past. But you can’t help but wonder how different things could be if he had shown this side of him from the start.

You get cosy in bed and cuddle your shark. You decide to name him Gerald. He’s softer than you remember him being in the gift shop, and that is by no means a complaint. It’s such a nice feeling to have something so adorable and soft to hold.

There is a split second you think your heart might have actually stopped when you hear Megumi open the door. You jump out of your skin but remain comfortable lying under the covers of your bed. He walks in, chuckling, when he sees you. He shakes his hand through his hair, messy water droplets falling from the ends.

“Thank you for Gerald, I love him.”

“S’not a gift, you owe me for him,” he tells you. At that, you sit up. Wide eyed and humiliated that you actually thought he’d do something so nice for you. You set down Gerald and open up the quilt to go and get your purse. “It was a joke. Gerald, huh?”

“Yeah, I don’t know. People names on animals is funny, I guess.” you answer. He nods lazily, like he isn’t fully committing to agreeing with your opinion. He throws his jacket to the ground and sits on top of his own bed. “Why did you do this for me?”

“I saw you left him when I went back to find you.” he speaks, “I- you seemed like you really wanted it so I just got it for you. That’s it. You’re welcome.” he finishes, leaning backwards on his elbows as he stares you down. It’s incredible how uneasy you can feel in such an instant whenever those intimidating green eyes study you.

It’s like you forget how to breathe.

How to be.

How should you act when you’re worrying whether or not every action you take may be used against you?

“I’d… look, I have a lot of thoughts and I just can’t say them without feeling stupid.”

“I don’t think you’re stupid, Megumi. You’re just a dick.” you laugh, and he laughs back. You aren’t wrong. “I’m scared of you, I don’t think I’ll ever get over that feeling with you. You’re compelling. Forceful. Dominant. It scares me, but getting me a plushie… standing up for me with those girls… colouring a fucking kids book in with me. They’re such kind, human things I didn’t expect you to be capable of.”

“Human? Do you think I’m a monster?”

“Sometimes. Most of the time, Megumi. You became a monster under my bed that kept me up at night.” you tell him. He shakes his head at that. You can’t decipher whether it’s self-reflection or disregard of your statement. Maybe he thinks you’re just being dramatic. “I don’t know what we are right now but I’d never think you’re stupid. So, if there’s anything you want to talk to me about or tell me I won’t… I won’t judge you for it. But if you want to keep it to yourself that’s fine too. Thanks for giving me a gift.”

“The girl from the store sent me a text. She asked if I want to go on a date tonight.” he admits. The admission takes you aback slightly, not expecting that to be the thought he was wanting to speak of.

“O-Oh.”

“I’m not bringing her back here. You’re right, I owe you that much. And I… I told her I can’t go on a date, ever.”

“Why?”

“’Cause it’s my fault we’re stuck here so I shouldn’t leave you alone, right? You’re fucking me up, O’Keeffe. Got me growin’ a fucking conscience suddenly.” he complains, but it makes you smile.

“I can look after myself, you know. Don’t let me stand in the way of you getting a nut.” you smile. He shakes his head putting another cigarette between his lips. He only left the room to smoke because he wanted space and to give you the same, not because it’s a rule of the hotel. There’s even an ashtray on his bedside table for him.

“Don’t care if you can or not. I don’t want to see her, anyway. I wanna go out with you.” he tells you.

“I’m sorry?”

“Get ready. The receptionist told me there’s a bowling alley nearby, ‘m not sulking in this shit hole room all night so get dressed.”

—

He’s a little jealous that he didn’t think of your genius idea of buying a raincoat. He did buy an umbrella, though, not that it did much to protect his new clothes or his hair. The bowling alley is a fifteen-minute walk away from the hotel. You’re glad you had opted to wear your favourite trainers instead of a pair of heels for your trip. Walking around today had been a breeze. And you were both hoping this would be the type of bowling alley that allows you to wear your own shoes.

You’ve always enjoyed places like this. Arcades that are dark with neon lighting. You look over to the lanes while Megumi pays for both of you and see an assortment of neon-coloured pins.

“Could we have a lane with pink pins, please?” you ask, sweetly. Megumi looks up from the card machine to grimace at you. But the man nods kindly, agreeing to your request.

You’re guided to the furthest lane away, right next to the wall. The desire to take a few pictures is too strong to ignore. Megumi scoffs but doesn’t comment. You get a few snaps of him while he’s entering your names into the system. It shocks you that he’s letting you go first. There might be a gentlemanly side to him, after all.

“Do you need the sides up?” he asks, patronisingly.

“Don’t be a dick about it. Yes, please.” you respond. He rolls his eyes but does as you ask. The sides come up for you to take your turn, and they’ll retreat for his. “Ah this is so cool! I didn’t know lanes could do this now.”

“Hurry up and take your turn. Does princess need a pink ball to match her pink pins?” he questions. Whenever you bowl, you always choose the lightest weight. Either a six or an eight. There’s only an eight here and it’s a hideous lime green colour. But it’s fine. You watch the ball zig zag off the sides before knocking down seven pins. “Not bad.” he hums. You saunter back to the bowling balls and pick up another. You only manage to hit one pin, but it’s one more than you had expected.

“You’re up, Fushiguro. See if you can beat that.” you tease, sticking your tongue out.

He swaggers over to the machine with as much confidence as an A-lister. He picks up the heaviest, pink, ball with ease. He raises his eyebrows twice in quick succession, like he’s gloating he got to use a pink ball and you didn’t. He poses triumphantly before he’s even rolled the ball. Like he’s some sort of fucking pro.

The ball flies from his hand and skids down the lane quicker than you can blink. It doesn’t roll until it connects with the centre pin. One of his legs is dramatically behind the other, a position he chooses to hold until he sees each and every pin knock down.

Megumi turns around and grins at you, smirking with pride and the state of shock your face is currently displaying. You point to the lane and then back to him as your words get jumbled in your mouth. He lazily points back at you, a fake look of contemplation overcoming him.

“So, out of curiosity, do you think I beat that?” he teases. He takes a seat and waits for you to take your next turn, casually looking through the drinks menu that had been left for you both to peruse.

“Are you some sort of bowling prodigy?”

“Nah.”

That’s it. That’s all he’s giving you as he orders himself a beer on the screen menu. He orders a drink for you, too, though he doesn’t tell you that. You take your turn again and manage to somehow get a spare.

By the time your drinks come he’s taking his next turn. You’re surprised that he ordered you a strawberry and lime cider, but it isn’t unwelcome. Maybe he’s trying to get you drunk so he wins even easier than he already is. He comes back, swigging his beer and silently gloating about his second strike of the evening.

“Thanks for the drink.” you smile. He nods and he drinks, his Adam’s apple bobbing dramatically with each glug of his beer. “Are those strikes just luck, then?”

“Does it matter?”

“A little, I guess. Did you just bring me here so you could feel superior?”

“Take your fuckin’ turn. You need to get it into that thick head of yours that not everything I do is about you.” he speaks sternly. It feels like you’re five years old being scolded by your parents. You tuck your hair behind your ears and get up to bowl again. You’re elated when your ball zig zags perfectly enough to earn a strike. It fills you with false confidence, a belief that you might actually be able to keep up with Megumi.

You sit and sip your drink as you watch him take another turn. He lets his head loll backwards as he exhales in annoyance.

“Unlucky.” you mock, as he cranes his head to face you. A split. He manages to get two out of the three pins left standing. You wonder for a second if he might have done it on purpose to placate you, and then you remember who you’re dealing with.

As tense as the atmosphere seems to be between the two of you, you’re managing to make fun for yourself. The music is loud, something you’d hear in a nightclub. You can’t help but shake your hips whenever you get up to roll. You drink your cider a little quicker than intended and you start ordering more. They go down smoother than water and your turns become messier. It’s going to be an easy win for Megumi, but it doesn’t stop either of you trying.

“Let’s go again!” you yell before gasping when you realise what song is playing. Love Myself, by Hailee Steinfeld. “I LOVE ME! GONNA LOVE MY—”

“That’s enough,” Megumi interrupts as he yanks you away from the lane. He’s holding your hand impossibly tight, guiding you in the direction of the exit. You can tell he’s embarrassed but your tipsy mind decides it’s a good idea to keep pushing his buttons anyway.

“Aw, Megs, don’tcha wanna teach me how to bowl? Since you’re such an expert?”

“I- I don’t want to do that. Shut up, we’re going home.”

“I wish we were going home. You fucking idiot. Letting us get stranded here because you had such an important fucking phone call that’s such a big God damn secret.”

“Oh for crying out fucking loud.” he says, stopping in the middle of an alleyway he decided to take to save time. “You’re so lucky you’re you right now, you have no fucking idea.”

“W-What does that mean?”

“I hate you. I hate you nagging and bitching in my ear constantly. But most of all I hate how pathetically weak you are. I could leave you here, you know. In the middle of this shady alley to let whatever piece of shit do whatever the hell he wants with you. And I’d sleep just fine. Do you understand? I despise you.”

“But you’ve been so—”

“So nice? The only reason I’m not gonna do that is because you’re you. Let me say it simply enough for your stupid little mind to understand. I don’t wanna deal with your family, my family, Gojo, and fucking Yuuji jumping down my neck because I left a spoilt bitch to rot in the middle of nowhere.”

“You’ll never change, will you? Why do you keep doing this to me?”

“Enough.” he hisses, clenching your wrist and pulling you out of the dingy alleyway and back onto the main roads. The streetlights glittering as rain lashes down across the yellow bulbs. You’re crying, again. You probably would have been able to hold it together if you were in your own sober mind.

How could you be so stupid? After what he did to you last time there was alcohol involved, you’re such an idiot for letting your guard down for a second around him. Granted, he didn’t do anything particularly evil to you. But he definitely has a way with words that make you feel like you’re a speck of dust in the grand scheme of the universe.

You’re nothing.

—

He shoves you into the hotel room ahead of him and slams the door behind himself. The hideous flickering fluorescent lights are making you feel sick. You’re wobbling on your feet without Megumi guiding and supporting you. You begin to lean, to slope. Your feet are staggering until finally you collapse onto the ground.

“You are a fucking embarrassment. Get up. You need to sleep this off.” he demands. You get onto your hands and knees and start crawling towards your shopping bags searching for your pyjamas. He watches as you feebly rifle through them before he gets sick and helps you. He pulls out the purple fluffy vest and shorts you purchased and throws them in your face. “I didn’t have you down as being such a lightweight. It’s hard to watch, should be ashamed of yourself.”

“Didn’t use—”

“Huh?”

“Didn’t used to be, Megumi… I haven’t touched a drop since you…”

You begin to sob as you think about what a fool you’re making of yourself in front of your bully. It humbles him, though, hearing the reason you couldn’t hold your alcohol is another thing that’s down to him. He almost feels sorry for you. It’s enough for him to help you to your feet and lead you into the bathroom to get dressed in private.

“Fuck!” you yell, knocking over a multitude of complimentary bathroom products as you stumble to the ground yet again. Megumi rushes in to see you on the floor, still fully dressed and struggling to get your clothes off. You’re sobbing, now, face shining with sticky tears and regrets. “Megumi, I can’t—”

“Alright.” he picks up your pyjamas and sits on the ground with you, pulling you between his legs. Your shirt is lifted over your head for you before he replaces it with your new soft vest. “Bra on or off?” he questions.

“O-Off, please.” you answer. His hands slip under your vest as he unhooks it. He pulls down the straps and reaches around your front and under your clothes again. It’s awkward. Intimate. But he doesn’t cop a feel. He’s being a genuine help to you. Yanking away your black bra and tossing it aside. “Thank y-you.”

He stands up and helps you to your feet as well. You’re forcibly turned to face him as he undoes the button on your jeans and pulls down the zipper. He turns you again to pull them down to your ankles.

“Do you sleep with your panties on or off?”

“Um, I—”

“I won’t look, just want you to get ready for bed.”

“Off…” you sigh, nervously. You look over your shoulder and see him nod. He keeps his gazed fixed on the bathroom tiles as he hooks his fingers into your simple black thong. They’re pulled down so you can step out of them and into the purple shorts. You wiggle your hips so he can put them onto you comfortably. You’ve still got socks on. You’d managed to force your trainers off when you fell over next to your bed, but who knows if you were able to keep them together.

Megumi stands up and throws you over his shoulder, carrying you to your bed and throwing you onto the mattress. He takes your socks off for you and tucks them into your trainers, leaving the beside the door to the hotel for you to find tomorrow.

“Under the covers.” he instructs, and you obey.

“Why are you so… it’s like you’re two different people.”

He ignores you, tucking you in until you look comfy enough. You’re cuddling Gerald and he hates the way his heart flutters when he sees how sweet you look with the gift that he got you. What the hell was he thinking? He goes to the bathroom and comes back with a glass of water, setting it on your side table in case you need it during the night.

“Megs, I’ve got some aspirin in my tote. Would you mind?”

He gets it for you and throws it your way. It hits off the glass, spilling a little water but nothing too damaging. Megumi starts to undress, uncaring of your presence. He bought himself a pair of sweatpants and a plain white t-shirt to sleep in. He walks around, turning out all of the lights before he gets into his own bed.

“’m not tired.” you tell him.

“You will be. Lie there and be quiet ‘til you fall asleep.” he tells you, not that he thought you’d listen to a word he had to say.

“Can we talk until we sleep?”

“No.”

“I wanna know why you’re so nice to me one minute and awful to me the next. Please, tell me why?” you request. He just grunts, though, not liking the thought of having to listen to you drone on until you pass out.

“You annoy me.” he says simply. It’s clear it isn’t a good enough answer when he’s rewarded with silence. But it’s the truth. You do annoy him. Like nobody else ever has before. “You piss me off and you make me feel angry. But you’re nice so it fucks me up, alright? I don’t know how to act around you because you make me feel too many things.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Drop it.”

You wrack your brains for something else to talk to him about. You’re sure talking about yourself isn’t a good idea, and talking about him might be even worse. Anything to do with Toji has the potential for an all-out war in the hotel room. You think asking about his history with Yuuji might be a sore subject, too.

“How come you’re so good at bowling?” it’s perfect. It’s about him but it’s not a heavy subject that can trigger him into another fit of abuse and rage. And it’s a valid question, too, considering he just schooled you at the bowling alley. He rolls onto his side to face you, and you do the same. He can see Gerald peeking out of the duvet and grins.

“Practice. Used to skip school a lot and play at the arcade.”

“Ever the bad boy, ‘Gumi.”

“Cut that shit out right now. I hate that nickname.” he demands. It makes you laugh knowing four letters has such a heated reaction from him. “Wasn’t doing it to be bad, just didn’t like school. Or people.”

“Were you… bullied? Or something?”

“No. Just didn’t care about shit. Toji was in and out and I was just angry about it. And I lost my mother and didn’t really have anyone to— Why am I telling you this? Stop asking me dumb shit.”

It’s the first time you’ve heard Megumi even come close to opening up about his mother. When you hear the vulnerability in his truth, you can almost forgive him for taking his anger with the world out on you. Toji is incredible to you, but the same can’t be said for his son. To abandon him right after he lost his mother is unforgivable. Of course he’s fucked up like this. He had nothing and no one. Not a shoulder to cry on or a word to say. Why would he care about his education or school when nothing in the world gave any care for him?

“Tsumiki isn’t your real sister, is she? So how did she—”

“Her mother and my father had a thing after mine died. So she’s not technically any relation of mine but we were all a family, only for a little bit. But after our parents ran off, that’s when Gojo took us in.”

“Wait, what? Gojo, as in—”

“Yeah, Satoru Gojo. That’s why I was surprised he was giving you a ride home that day after class. He’s like my weird other dad. That’s why him and Toji hate each other. Toji’s possessive and I’m his. But Gojo is the one who actually raised me most of my life.”

“Fuck. That’s so… fucked. Seriously heavy drama. Plus, I can’t imagine Gojo as a father. He’s annoying as hell and so immature.”

“He is. But he was good to us.”

You roll away and face the wall, happy with your answers and the conversation you’ve had. Your eyes are feeling heavier, watering with desperation to sleep. Yawns evade your lips and it makes Megumi chuckle. When your mouth is closed your teeth begin to chatter. Maybe shorts and vest wasn’t the best idea for sleepwear given the current weather conditions.

Despite all your best efforts to conceal the volume of your teeth, Megumi hears them. He doesn’t react, though. Not straight away at least. He isn’t sure if he wants to get involved. The worry of saying something pointless swirls through his head. What could he say, anyway? It’s not like he could do anything to make it better.

“You’re cold.” he says, plainly. He curses himself immediately. Why did he state it as a fact as if you aren’t already fully fucking aware of what temperature your body is at? You’re covered head to toe in goosebumps and worried you might actually freeze into a statue.

“Uhm, I… a little.” you confess, weakly. He clears his throat. His mouth is moving faster than his brain can tell him to shut up. It’s a mistake. A colossal mistake he needs to stop himself from making. But he can’t. The words are already pouring out. What the fuck is wrong with him?

“We, uh, do you want to get in? With me. Share body heat until you warm up.”

It shocks you, significantly so. He’s offering to spoon with you. What would Yuuji think? What would anyone think, actually? What do you think?

You think it’s absolutely ridiculous.

You’re constantly at each other’s throats and now he’s offering you comfort and warmth in such an intimate way. Yuuji wouldn’t be happy. Would any man be happy about their girlfriend getting into bed with someone else? No matter how innocent it is. You know he wouldn’t like it.

But you know it’s innocent. You don’t want anything from Megumi. Just…

“Okay.” you whisper. His eyes bulge, he hadn’t been expecting you to agree to it. He opens his duvet up for you. You pick up Gerald and rush into bed with him. Your body moulds against his and you immediately feel better. He’s so warm. You’re cuddling Gerald and his arms are wrapped around your waist as he holds you close, attempting to transfer as much as his body heat as he can onto you.

“Feel better?” he mutters after around ten minutes. You nod, and he holds you even tighter.

“I feel your… your dick is hard, Megumi.” you groan back, he snickers, uncaring.

“I know. Sorry, your ass keeps grinding against it. Just ignore it ‘n go to sleep, princess.” he commands. You giggle back at him. It isn’t his fault. If anything it’s yours. You should have said no to getting into his bed. You shouldn’t be letting him hold you like this. How a lover should.

How Yuuji does.

It’s so wrong and inappropriate. But you’re so toasty and warm, you really don’t care.

“Sweet dreams, Megumi.”

“Night, O’Keeffe.”

—

© 2022 fuwushiguro | © 2024 rinhaler

Sooo soo great!!!

UNHAPPY BULLY

SERIES PART 1-4

Warning: May contain triggering content, bullying, mentions of blood, and other things you might not like. Errors might be present, please don't mind them. Enjoy!

Summary: She's the quiet one, she's the loud one, he's her tormentor, he's her problem at school. He might be obsessed with her.

Word count: 7.4k

Since it was requested and liked, I decided to make a story with almost the same premise, excluding the one-shot material, it's the full package. There's more to come. If you want;)

The more she tries to avoid it, the harder it gets. It's a bittersweet truth.

Subjected to his mean words retained a cynical outcome on her conviction, always glaring at her, smiling at her misery, touching her with intent to hurt, tossing paper balls at her, sometimes pulling her hair If she ever had the tragic coincidence sitting in front of him. Whenever they shared eye contact, she feels as though he is wordlessly disparaging her with his blood-red eyes. For the most part, however, it wasn't physical.

Today, he seemed more competitive.

Sitting in the far back with the other girls, separated by gender, she observes the way her blonde bully perfects his task, hearing her male classmates cheer at the sight, for anything minor or major, she had gotten adjusted. Her teacher returned, a whistleblower hanging from the collar, a small stick he likes to use at his grasp.

The girls beside her quietly laughed, whispering something into each other's ears, some lack shame she presumes.

They tapped her shoulder and gently uttered 'the boys told us to give you this message, Katsuki likes your black underwear.' She ceased, side-eyed her giggling classmate, then pressed her lips together, the humiliation sweeping up her body, she nervously looks back at their teacher, attempting to disregard the dreadful beats of her heart. Thoughts ran rampant in her affected mind, she clenches her fist around her wrist, swallowed her unease when the teacher noticed her.

"Let's see how much you've all improved since the last time, we'll be doing a race test, then throwball test, finally, strength test." He sternly spoke, glancing at his students, some appearing excited, others apprehensive.

"First row, you are up."

The words dulled themselves, the noisy cheers and girls talking tuning out, she just couldn't help but overthink, the most consistent thought being, 'when- how did he see it?' She has been so meticulous in evading him, no boys were allowed in the changing rooms unless someone beguiles, leaked information to disrespect her. It wouldn't be uncharacteristic of her classmates. She briefly looked at the other side, watching the blonde focus on the current race, however, slowly looked her way and smirked, as if he was anticipating her reaction.

She was the one to break away the instant their gaze met, steadily inhaling while she bit on her lips, she attempts to concentrate, hopefully, neglect her pressing notions for a short while, so she doesn't end up butchering her physical test.

"Ok! The last row, you are up!" She rose, jogging behind the girls to catch up, each race consisted of five students, she was up with the gossiping girls and two mean girls who probably knew what colour of underwear she was wearing now. She gulps, slowly taking her place in between them, failing to dismiss the pessimistic feelings, she got in her position, her heartbeat accelerating, she feels like she isn't in the moment when the whistle sounds out and the five of them galloped.

The applause was loud in her ears, shouts and raving she heard of her that managed to bother her. She kept up her pace, in the lead before the black-haired classmate caught up, then she listens to her say. "You suck, black underwear." She teased, quickly running forwards, she grimaced, using her last bit of energy to force herself to move hastily. As they neared the finish line, she sprinted right behind her, both of them now in the same place. It could be a tie if they kept up. She gave her nasty glare, putting all her strength and eventually left the girl behind, securing herself the first place.

She had never won the golden opportunity before, so it came as a pleasant surprise when her teacher cheered and said, "Woah! That's a big improvement, you had come last place, right?" He asked, she nodded, breathing heavily. He patted her and sent them away, then she saw, the shocking look in the girl's grey eyes. Hatred.

"She came first place, okay how did that happen?" She heard them mutter amongst themselves, staring at her as if she had grown another head.

"She must have cheated."

She sat down, pulling her blue water bottle out only to see it empty. Someone... Drank it? She knew exactly who it was. She groaned, thirsty but toiled to keep her temper in check, she leaned back, resting her trembling legs as the adrenaline fades off. Her throat itching for some water.

Wiping the sweat off her eyebrows, exhausted from just the first test, she inspected the boy's competition around the ground, a certain green-haired boy seizing her attention, in the last place, but still pushing with all his might. Small-ish, lean, short, and quirkless, a distant friend from childhood, he's another victim of her bully, known as deku, while she was referred to as loopy, in short, crazy.

"Ok! Last team! You are up."

It was katsuki's turn, she could heed the boy's gaiety already, the blonde pushed past the depleted greenette who didn't say anything and walked back to his seat, even her female classmates smiled, silently interested in seeing him.

"On your marks, get, set, go!!"

The five boys were off, and her bully quickly obtained the lead, the four others wanting to get the first place but Katsuki had already travelled a long distance and they wouldn't reach in time. He was going to win from the very beginning.

The crowd lauded, flaring the guy's ego, he gave a big restrained smile, moving back to his place, with a huge swell of arrogance, settling down in the middle of the restless boys, still celebrating their bets.

"Now then we are done with the racing test, we can go onto the next game, throwball. You'll be divided into two teams, consisting of both boys and girls, gather round, I'll team you up." Everyone got up, thrilled for the match-up, she wasn't too pleased about it, lazily hauling herself as she blended into the mob, observing her teacher evaluate his choice and gripingly put them into wrong teams.

"Team A, Miyamura, shin, Makoto, lolly, rudo, midoriya..." Then he carried on, she didn't get picked in that team, and neither, her bully, she was about to get teamed up with him, wasn't she? This day couldn't get any worse.

"Team B, Bakugo, Rosie, Haru, Asahi, lei, Aiko, Aoi..." Then his wrinkled eyes landed on her, she knew she was doomed.

"And L/n! Ok, we are good to go!"

It had been such an awful experience discussing strategy and arrangement with her bully, he straight up didn't want her in his team, but begrudgingly decided to have her beside him in the middle. She knew she was to be horrible at this, and he was going to hate her more now since he's so obsessed with winning, with victory.

The match began, most of the throws ended up on the blonde's side, and whenever it did head towards her, he would catch it instead, one time, he even hit her on the cheek with his elbow when he caught the ball, it hurt, she started to dislike him even more.

The fierce competition was ongoing, she had thrown a grand total of two times, miraculously, he deliberately plucks her out of place when she had to receive the brown orb, she ended up on her butt at least thrice, and they were in the lead, a few points and it will be over.

Relief had flooded her senses upon thinking the finale, she was expending less awareness when Katsuki yelled her name, and she was met with the ball to the face, disorienting her vision, she stumbled back, gripping her throbbing nose and face, she looked down at her palms and found blood, the dark red liquid slowly drips down her lips, she swallowed, looking at her teacher who rushed towards her before taking her off the field. Everyone stood still, silence engulfing their once clamorous contest.

She suffered a minor nose bleed, got cotton stuffed in her nostril, and had an awkward atmosphere upon entering the classroom, she was expecting someone to tease but none were sneered her way and the rest of the classes went on normally. She hadn't gotten any 'are you okay' either, she doesn't know if she preferred it or not.

Her P.E teacher nearly had a heart attack, one of his statements stuck with her, 'you are so delicate, you need to get strong.' He meant it with good intentions, she had heard that expression from her parents as well. Her bully hadn't backed off from making her day a little less bad by stealing her notes for the upcoming class. If she was caught not possessing her notebook, she's bound to get lectured and punished.

She hated him.

After class, she confronted him.

"Can you give me back my notes?" She vehemently spoke, arms crossed, one leg stuck out, tapping against the floor impatiently.

"Oh, you look ugly with those in your nose." He said, faking an exaggerated disgusted facade.

"Return it back or else..."

He turned towards her, fully facing her with a tough look in his eyes, she returned the gesture, pinching her lips with the way he stood with pride.

"What are you going to do? Report me?" He taunted, leaning inwards, challenging her with a glare.

"Yes, this time to the principal."

He laughed, grumbling, "just for a book?" He tsked, continuing, "you are pathetic."

"No, for everything you've done." She spits back, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Oh! Is that so? What evidence have you got against me? Deku? He won't get in a word, he's a loser, and you are far worse than him." He retorted.

"The principal won't have a reason to deny if I bring my parents into the picture, plus you still have my notebook with you, you haven't returned so it should be proof enough." She responded, not missing the way his lips twitched, his eyes hardening.

"Hey, dude! Why are you keeping us waiting for so long?" His friends shouted from the front of the class, halting at the sight of their friend and his victim, "you want us to leave without you?" They smugly smiled, elbowing each other, then slowly walking out, leaving the both of them to themselves.

"If you say anything to anyone, I'm going to make your life a living hell." He threatened, grabbing her collar and propelling her towards him. "You don't want that, do you?" He ceased for a moment, grinning wide as if he had gotten a brilliant idea, he resumed, "if you want me to stop, maybe we could do a trade."

"No thanks, I know how you are, it's probably not in my interest." She bravely muttered, it irked him, he shoved her away, the smile on his face fading away, "you don't know when to give up, do you?"

He grimaces, shifting back to get his backpack, plopping it on his shoulder, he stared at her maliciously and said.

"If you want your notebook, you gotta have something in return for me."

With that, he left.

She strutted there for a short while, reflecting on her alternatives because no matter what, he somehow manages to outsmart her. Every time.

When her tears were more than her words, her courage less than that of her quirk. She met her bully, with blonde hair, ruddy eyes, and an enlarged ego that seemed to increase tenfold once applause was sent it's way, it was a one-time thing, she was just going to play along with boys her age, perhaps younger since she had no one else, and while most of them were against it, a sweet green-haired boy insisted, holding her hand and bringing her with him.

It was discouraging to be thereafter the severe disagreement, however, she still followed, she was the only girl with four to five chaps.

That day, was the first and last time she was ever going to reside in that group.

They were far rowdier and carefree than her, proudly walking in the street, she and the other boy trailing behind them, and then they stepped inside a convenience store, she had watched them buy stuff, all might items, she observed their smiles upon tearing it open, right outside the shop, grinning in delight.

The blonde kid was far happier than any one of them, denying his now treasured object any spying eyes, protecting it and retrieving it inside his pocket. She felt out of place, for some reason.

Then, they played hero and villain, like any other kid she's seen, she had to be the one rescued, and she oddly delighted that. The green-haired boy was a villain, while the blonde one was a hero, she was the civilian who needed saving. It was a fun pastime, her heart was beating fast, watching the two quarrel, until the greenette got harshly pushed down. She got up and asked him if he was okay, it did not please the others.

"You are supposed to ask me if I'm okay, not him!" The blonde sneered at her, she frowned, lowering her gaze, muttering, "was I supposed to? But you weren't hurt." She innocently replied, "even villains are humans like us, they get hurt too, you know."

"Do you have a crush on deku or something? Because you sound stupid." He argued, she shared brief eye contact with the kid, a sad expression now on her small face.

She doesn't know what to say.

"I think I like him more." She hesitantly answered, "you don't know how a hero should act, they are never mean to anyone."

It bothered him.

Then came a hard shove.

That was what she recalled, seeing the all might plushie at the store, safely tugged at the corner, almost gone, the shop had a handful of customers at this time, nowadays, finding hero merch was common, and it got a lot of attention and profit. All might has never been her favourite, not after her mind associated that bitter memory with meeting her bully, then the green-haired boy, Deku, she never got herself to know him, maybe she was upset, angry with how things flipped upside down. Or she just resented him for suffering around those mean kids, it made her sad thinking about him, two of kacchan's victims.

"Oh! um..." she faced the timid voice, finding her greenette classmate standing before her, shying away from direct eye content, she turned away, picking the item from the toy section and prepared to depart, "you're taking that...?" inquired the boy, particularly no feelings stuck out to her, she felt nothing towards him, neutral, leaning a little towards dislike from time to time.

"Yes, did you want it?" she asked, ready to hand it to him, but he hastily disagreed, "n-no! It's fine! I've never seen you here, buying all might stuff..." he awkwardly replied, pressing his lips into a thin line. "I usually don't but because of someone, I have to," she responded.

His eyes light up, and he flashes her a tiny smile, "is it a gift?"

She quickly shook her head, furrowing her eyebrows and narrowing her eyes at the image of having her bully as a kind of friend, "no, I just gotta get it for my notebook." he questioned her with a puzzled look, "as an accessory?" she grinned, faking enthusiasm. She couldn't deal with any queries right now. She tries to leave, but is stopped again, by a curious boy who asked, "are you and kacchan... in a relationship?" she quickly answered, in a bitter tone.

"No." she gave him a brief glance and took off.

'He calls me loopy for a reason, perhaps he is right.'

The next morning, she approached him, demanded her belonging, and got back a crude response, asking for a little something, she had gotten a plushie but, would he even want it? A grown boy who was a bully would want something soft that she went out of her way to get, with her pocket money, to her liking, he wouldn't, a hardened guy like him can't appreciate it.

"Unless you give me something precious of yours, I won't give it back." he arrogantly declared, further irking her, her eyes sting, her throat tightened, and the urge to slap him amplified.

"I don't get it, what do you want?" she mumbled, irritated. As if she would ever willingly hand him her most treasured item with ease.

"Hmm, preferably something black." he shrugged. He knew that she knew what he was talking about, but she acted obliviously. "A mask?"

He moved forward, and softly whispered, "Black underwear loopy, remember that?"

She immediately pushed him back, ignoring his wicked laugh, and sat down, recoiling from stress and anger, glaring at his taunting form, how long can she go without her notes.?

At lunch break, she eagerly requested some of her classmates to lend her their book but, nobody was ready to hand it off and hope for the best, he seriously threatened them not to give her any help?

At last, she stopped in front of her final choice, Deku.

She stopped him as the entire class emptied, even their bully, so it was just the two of them, alone, together, as victims. She halts at his desk, gulping down her concerns.

"Can you lend me your science notebook, I promise I'll return it as soon as possible." she spoke pleadingly, he nervously stared at her, "um..." without hearing his answer, she slouched, speaking a little louder, "don't tell me Katsuki threatened you too?" he bowed his head down, looking up regretfully, confirming, "kacchan's been telling everyone not to help you with anything, but..." he finished, voice latched with sorrow. Their gaze connected, she fought the urge to tear her eyes away from him.

"Is that why you were getting him that plushie...?"

She momentarily ceased, thinking it through, then gently uttered.

"I wasn't thinking about it, I just bought it impulsively. Besides, not that he will return my notes either way, even if I gave it to him before he laughed." she honestly replied, correcting her posture and stepping back. Now aware, even he might not be able to aid her.

"But- you got it for him..." he softly mumbled to himself, lowering his eyes to his plain neat desk, hands gripped in his laps, blinking at his held fist.

"I don't get it, why are you so upset about it?" she mused, observing his expression alter and diffuse. "I-I'm not! I promise, just, do you regret meeting me?" he suddenly surprised her with the query, she watched him shift nervously in his seat, avoiding her eyes like it meant something horrible, "no, I don't. Actually, I don't think I've made amends with you."

He tearfully glanced at her face, wanting her to carry on but she turned her face from him and clutched the straps of her bag in her fingers, saying one last thing before cutting her short conversation with him, "it's okay if you don't wanna help, no problem, I'll see you tomorrow."

She leaves. The sting of guilt doesn't take long to invite itself in.



The school campus is brimming with students, tall, short and alike, striding their merry way home, she was one of them, gaze cast down, attending to the dirt crushing underneath her school shoes, it was breezy for a moment and then it wasn't, the light slowly veering orange. A heavy arm suddenly grabs her neck from behind, prompting her to avert her gaze to the familiar person holding her waterway in a tight squeeze.

"You're coming out rather late, what were you doing with deku?" The grumpy raspy voice of her tormentor sounded near her ear, she shoot him a scowl, about to plop his arm back to his side, however, he resettled his grasp and further leaned over to her cheeks.

"You could have my notes if you are so desperate." He mocked, snickering at her miserable endeavour.

"Yeah sure, why don't you just give me my notebook back." She acknowledged.

"What if I burned it and threw it away, you still want it back?" He muttered, drawing closer to her, his arm now slithering to her waist, just low enough, clasping her hipbone, perking up at her startled reaction.

Without saying anything, she ripped off his hand, removed it from her body and jabbed it to his left side, rejecting his terrorizing grimace, quickly stepping away from his reach, ambling towards the entrance.

"If you are not going to tell me then I'm going to ruin it, and I won't give you mine either, not like anyone else is going to entrust their belongings to you." He shouted, knowing where to pull her strings.

Even though she wouldn't admit it, she needed it before tomorrow.

She thinks for a quick duration, examining for any tell-tale signs of dishonesty or animosity, she forced herself to oblige, she couldn't get reprimanded for something fixable. Hesitantly, she speaks up.

"Fine." She swiftly made her way towards him, defensively folding her arms near her chest and disapprovingly staring at his arrogant face.

"What's your deal with that nerd?"

"I asked him if he would give me his notes, that's all, plus we met at a shop yesterday, nothing happened, I was just looking for something to buy." She responds.

He doubtingly peers, soaking in the slightest shift in her movement, her face, and his gut told him she wasn't lying right under his nose, he hums, pulling his bag off his shoulder, he quickly takes his book out, hands it to her, not before lifting out her reach.

"You better not damage it, or pour any drop of water, juice, anything, think you can do that?" He boasts, chancing to get an 'aye' out of her lips. She frigidly nods, lips tightened.

He smiles, content with his plan.

"Good. You better come to school tomorrow, don't even try to get me into trouble for getting absent with my notes."

"Okay! Geez, you have too many restrictions on your list, why the demand?"

"You should know who's in control right now, you say anything more and I'll snatch it back." She silently groans, mentally mourning her desperate decisions.

Her room reeked of jasmine. Denser in the centre of her space, her bed still unmade, curtains half drawn and her worn clothes thrown on her stool, she sat down on the comfy mattress, drawing out a relieved sigh, she inspected her sloppy area.

Suddenly standing up to view the book on her study table, she didn't notice it before, but his notebook oddly smelled like caramel, a little bit of burnt sugar, and an unidentified fragrance she couldn't pinpoint, was it apples? Or perhaps it was a men's cologne.

Seeing her phone, she instantly kept it back into its original position, interested in checking on the latest news about recent incidents, unfortunately, as soon as she opened it, she saw a lot of messages on her insto and reluctantly decided to hold off her mundane endeavour.

As she tasks herself to answer, she finds a few accounts of her classmates, and then it leads to her curiosity heightening and ripening, perceiving their cringe profile and caption, in the end, she managed to unearth one shocking discovery.

Her bully had an account.

She couldn't negate the familiarity between him and her hypersensitive torturer, it had to be him, no posts were made, just a simple affidavit to show his personality, she wants to bet his side-bubbies did this for him, but there's always a possibility of being false. Most of her classmates were following him, except her, and her distant friend.

Maybe he was dared to make an account- there's no way he did it out of his own will.

KATSUKI BAKUGO IS NOW FOLLOWING YOU. 1 SEC AGO.

Her eyes grow wide.

She receives the notification before a request to message, she wildly couldn't approve his follow petition, she could block him. Even if that sounds harsh, he's committed worse. Sadly for her, he is just going to afflict her more misery if she doesn't.

The proclamation reads, 'follow me back loser, you don't forget to bring my notebook tomorrow if you don't return it, I'm going to kill you.' He cared more about his paper tablet than her feelings. She stiffly hovers over the button, her thumb slightly trembling, stare trained on the smirking face of her bully, his picture confirmed it.

It was him.

Hesitantly her fingers tapped on the letters, erasing her sentence twice, rephrasing it properly in case he assumes it wrongly, the entire time, she doesn't realise she was holding her breath, chewing on her lips, reading her memo thrice, she sends it.

She accepted to follow him back and then blacklisted him. She couldn't see his messages and it was better that way.

Besides, not that he will care.

About to retire from her device to freshen up, disregard and forgive, she gets an unknown call, she immediately rejects it, standing up to close her curtains. It was likely just a bogus call.

Now adorned in soft clothes, she plops on her chair, her phone on mute, prepared to relax and binge-watch videos, but her mother shouting for her presence downstairs had compelled her to put her idea on wait again. She internally groans, carrying herself towards her mother's voice.

She retreated to her dull space after a tough while had breezed by, mildly annoyed but still had a soft tint in her eyes, grabbing her gadget to take pictures of her bully's notes since she doesn't feel like writing and it being impossible jot it down in a single day, she chose to print it out the next morning before school. She opened the slab, gently turning the papers and observing his rather neat handwriting, too elegant for a fella like him. She was astonished.

At unlocking her golden covered phone, several unknown calls had been made to her number, she got uneasy. Checking it prior to making a quick call to know who was trying to get a hold of her. She bought it to her right ear, nervously surveying her entire room as the call begins to drag on.

Until a firm stern voice startled her senses.

"Why didn't you pick up earlier?"

She knew who it was just by the tone of his voice, low, raspy, and an angered portrayal of him already playing inside her head.

She spoke.

"I didn't know it was you." She defended, her legs glued to the floor as she stiffly tried to think ahead, bitting her lips for reassurance.

He didn't answer.

"So- how did you get my number?" She anxiously inquired, glancing at the walls, anything her gaze landed on. She needed some sort of closure, her heart was slowly starting to pound faster.

"Deku gave it." He replied in a single breath, his line on the call was oddly quiet.

She looked at her clock, it was already past nine, was he a late sleeper?

"It's late, I'll hang up now. Bye." She sheepishly uttered, quickly tapping the red button and moving into her chair. She concludes with how different he sounded.

The next sunrise, she woke up late.

She didn't concern herself, at first.

Then recollected her plan to print his notebook just in case, then came her frenzied rush, unfortunately, she had less time to spare and ran out the door with her mother screaming to have breakfast, she sprinted, legs shaky and adrenaline coursing through her blood, breaths short and quick, inhaling through her mouth, her dry uniform dampen with sweat.

Jogging hastily at the scenery of her destination, she galloped across the deserted surface, dismissing the prying stares by her classmates, already in class and seated by the window. She stopped in front of her classroom door just on cue for the bell to ring and signal their impending lot. She collapsed, only to sit straight up and anxiously rampage her bag's contents.

Fishing out the notebook.

Searching it to see if it was the correct one.

It was, she could pass it over during lunch break. The problem was, approaching him willing, after the tactics he pulled on her, she's uncertain, cautious, careful, she shouldn't let him take advantage of her meek nature but, when their eyes connect and he glares with potent bitterness, her heart halts, and the air captive inside her lungs. He was intimidating.

She avoided him, solely for that rationale.

Part of her did not want to admit, she was frightened.

Instead of delivering it to him herself, she begged one of his side-buddies to do it in her cause, and he strangely consented, muttering her thanks and departing with the notebook. She grew more sentimental over it than her bully.

Positive this subsisting to be the last time she had to repay anything of his.

Besides, he was probably enraged she arrived later than sooner and was adamant about teaching her a lesson via a harsh glint, she's subconsciously made a comparison to him being moody vs his usual temper, pondering the same thing upon dropping down on her seat and getting a candy bar out of her pocket. In a hurry, she left her lunch box as well, and she didn't have breakfast either, so this was much she could afford with her current pocket money.

Students were present with her, just her bully and his friends were missing, breaks were her least and most favourite time of the day, it is also when her heckler was picky on her.

In the back seat, her green-haired friend shyly peeks at her figure, his hand grasping a pen and words neatly in scribbled. Wishing to talk with her, but decked not to.

And his intuition was right about it.

Entered their childhood bully with hands stuffed in his pockets. His buddies eluded from his side, standing straight as he loomed over the spirited female, immediately glancing up to stare at him, he lours, deferentially uttering.

"Why didn't you come to give me my notes huh? Are you that ungrateful?" He narrowed his scarlet eyes, furrowing his cream coloured eyebrows.

"I bet you are, didn't even say a word of gratitude after I humbly gave my help to you. You thankless brat." He scornfully ridiculed her, the girl took no intuitive to respond, drinking in his words, admitting mentally, he was right, she didn't thank him. Silence followed.

It was tense for a long moment.

She opened her lips and said.

"Thank you." She wasn't as prideful as him, and it didn't seize much out of her to say something appreciative.

He appeared taken aback, however, his hardened expression endured, he let out a disgruntled sigh, still glaring at her being.

Watching her without saying anything.

"Hmph. Loser." Finally, he mouthed, showing her his back and fled.

Her timid friend had taken note of everything unusual, but simply looked down and dismissed his longing to communicate.

But still, his gaze lingered around her.



School had ended, and she arrived home early, stomach protesting for some delicious contents, without having done anything she normally does after coming home, she strode towards the kitchen and opened the fridge. To find vegetables and none of her delightfully treats, she plopped down, upset with her spotting. "Oh you are home so quickly, you must be hungry." Her mom mocked behind her.

She internally mourned, speaking without thinking, "I am, I had to go without breakfast because I borrowed a notebook from someone troublesome." She frankly confessed.

"Why is that? You weren't absent for at least a week." Her mother remarked, walking towards the counter to prepare her daughter's belated breakfast.

"Hmm. This person insisted on giving me their notes and also demanded I give them back in time."

"Sounds like someone troubled."

She chuckled, sounding in agreement.

"I don't want you staying with anyone with bad influence, you hear me? Teenagers and alike are pretty rowdy these days." Her mother said, keeping the filled plate beside her daughter.

"That's an understatement."

"Well, you know better than me, don't remain in a bad friend group if it isn't for you."

She nodded, finding nothing wrong with the elder's worries. Besides, she was correct.

Finishing her food, she takes off to her room. Still craving for something sweet, but she was exhausted, she didn't want to do anything but rest and sleep, no homework, no nothing, even if she got in trouble for it.

Laying down after changing her outfit, she browsed through her phone, accidentally opening and closing apps she wasn't supposed to. Insto was now her least preferable place to pass time after she found out her bully and classmates also had accounts she never recognized until currently.

The screen is abruptly altered and she suddenly rises, seeing the unknown caller ID yet again. She did not want to pick up.

Thwarted, she childishly frowns. Huffing before accepting the call.

"Hello." She mumbled.

"Shut up loopy, why aren't you replying to my messages? You ignoring me!?" She could visualize his temper flaring.

"What messages? I didn't get any." She acted pretentiously, recalling herself blacklisting him, right after she replied to his first texts.

"Oh, I get it. You are ignoring me." He softly declared, declining her answer by cutting off the connection.

Abandoning her in sharp silence.

Her first few epochs at school have been uneasy, tense, although the peace was addicting, it was far unnerving existing without any unpleasant response or jeers, she shouldn't feel remorseful but, somehow it resolves in her pitying him, not her. Was it emotional manipulation? Or was she tripping herself?

He was frowning her way whenever she feigned ignorance, it bothered him, during breaks he would near her only to push shoulders and dismiss her certainty. Whilst classes were going on, she observed him break a pencil from the corner of her eyes, they sat at a place where they both could catch a glimpse of each other, in the middle, a few seats further or less, she on the left, closer to the window and he on the right.

Throughout it all, her lower abdomen was aching, maiming in a horrendous way that meant something bloody.

Quickly she got up, everyone's attention focused on her, moving towards her stunned female teacher, slightly leaning forward and she whispered. "Can I use the bathroom, please?" She pleaded, staring at her with soliciting eyes.

Her teacher thankfully let her, she raced to the washroom, mentally thinking, wishing her menstruation hadn't started. Regardless, she enters the restroom, rushing into a stall and removing her undergarments. To see dark red spots, she groans, whimpering at the sight.

Did she even bring pads?

Quietly, straining an innate smile, she arrived at her classroom, walking to her seat with a lowered gaze, slowly and steadily settling down, involuntarily, internally, cringing. Following this class was lunch break, so she could survive this.

What little time was left in that duration, her eyes were blown wide, lips pressed tight, and her notoriety drifting off. Her complexion dimmed as sharp jolts of pain coursed through her guts, she swallowed her spit more times than she counted, hands on the desk, her index finger squeezing the other, legs kept close and on the edge of her seat. Just subtly grinned when her teacher looked at her weirdly.

Subsequently, prior to any students leaving, she bolted out and disappeared into the hallway. Her bully watching her.

Coming back, appearing so much brighter and soothed, she swiftly took her place, bringing her lunchbox out and prepared to eat her agony away. Chunking on a piece of fried chicken, cold but still good, she softly chews in the noisy classroom, opting to take another bite but stopped herself as someone bought an empty chair in front of her desk and made themselves comfortable.

"You look stupid." He said.

She just peered at him unbothered, putting her meal into her mouth and cutely munching, no more meeting his eyes.

He grimaced in disdain, pushing himself forward, the mental feet of the chair scratching against the floor. He smirked when she stared at him, pleased with grabbing her interest.

"Why aren't you replying to my messages?" He pressured. She shrugged carelessly, darting her eyes around her desk.

"Hmph." He groaned, continuing, "guess you still don't know how to be grateful." He mocked. She promptly got disturbed.

"Yeah, you could return my notebook." She said he threw her a glance, offering her a warning stare.

"If you weren't such a brat, I would." He laughed, maintaining eye contact.

"I'm not the one bullying myself."

"You sure you can just talk back to me? Because last time I checked, I still have your notes and I can destroy them." He challenged, she took the bait without a second thought.

"I'll just tell the teacher you did it." She threw back, carrying on, "I mean how much can they ignore? It wouldn't be the last time you'll do it."

Without any inclination, he shoved her lunch box off the table, spilling the contents on the dirty floor. Strengthening his nasty glare, shoes planted on the surface, eyebrows furrowed and back erect, ready to take a swing at her face if she dared to say another accusing word.

She held her breath, staring at his face, all her classmates noticed their commotion, slowly she looked down at her spilt food, her heart beating loudly in her chest.

"If you so much as to say a word to the teachers about me, I'll end you." He hissed, his voice ringing in the calm room.

She struggled to keep her voice low.

Throwing daggers as he stood up and receded without voicing any foul words, pushing past the confused students who gawked at the scene.



She had horrible cramps the next day.

She took a day of leave, swimming in her blankets, curled up inwards, squirming, curtains were drawn to a complete close, encasing her space in a gloomy glow, tranquil except the tone of the waft, a mildly sweet fragrance roaming in the air, occasional noises of vehicle, the indistinct tune of birds. The girl tossed her blanket, feeling too warm and sluggish. Her eyes were heavy, the lure of unimaginable dreams getting tougher to resist, limbs loosely plonked, hoping to surrender and sleep without a care in the world.

She was startled awake late evening, feebly wiping the drool and gingerly attempting to recollect her last thought, stretching her toes, rubbing her face, and picking her non-functioning self up. In her dreamy state, moving towards her phone to disconnect it from the charger.

The thing she saw first, were five missed calls.

She glanced at the clock, assuming what time she drifted off to sleep, however, the calls were recent, fiddling with her choices, she goes back to bed, to lazy around till tomorrow's doom, but, seems like whoever was calling her weren't so patient.

She received it, somewhat composing herself and activating her mind.

"Hello-"

"Why weren't you at school." His deep voice interrupted hers, she blinked, pushing her lips and pressing the device closer.

"I wasn't feeling well." she honestly answered, stiffly standing in front of her bed.

"Yeah right, like it didn't have to do with what happened yesterday, you told your parents, didn't you?" he senselessly points the finger at her, impeaching her.

"I don't understand what you are talking about, I've been very generous with you since we've met, I haven't gone around telling everyone your bad qualities." she angrily retorted, torso leaning forward, lips tightened, and pulled upwards. Disliking his way of accusing her.

"And you've been shamelessly passing messages over to me by others, you think you have the right to be angry at me?" she calmly explained, mildly pitching her tone up.

"You haven't even given me my-"

"SHUT UP!!" he abruptly yelled on the call, surprising her, biting her lips from saying anything more, she could, but she had to be mature with the immature.

They both didn't say anything. He was breathing heavily she noted.

"First you go ahead and block me, then you have the guts to ignore me like if I'm nothing! You really know how to get on my nerves!" His voice cracked, and he sounded uncharacteristically hurt. "You better unblock me and reply to my messages." he darkly threatened.

"Or else..." she goes still.

Both sat in absolute silence, she was feeling uneasy, repressing the immediate urge to sever their unneeded conversation. Because she didn't feel comfortable nor safe.

"Why didn't you come today," he asked again. She thought twice before opening her bitten lips.

"I... wasn't feeling too good." she tensely replied.

"Aren't you going to ask for my notes?" He sounded like he was giving her an order rather than a stretch of kindness. "N-no... I'm fine, thanks."

"You'll be coming tomorrow, won't you?"

She gulped, wide eyes staring at the calendar, softly responding.

"I'm not sure."

"You won't come tomorrow?" he shamed daze, unconvinced with her uncertainty, now delicately mocking her with a low hostile tone.

"If I'm okay tomorrow, I'll come." she firmly stated.

Even though no words were spoken, she could feel his displeasure.

"Tell me your address." he sternly spoke.

She anxiously considered her few options. Outright telling what he wanted, or being clever about it and cutting the call midway, but he would confront her the very next day.

However, her mom shouts her name and it ended up being the perfect opportunity to say their goodbyes. "Sorry, gotta go now."

She quickly pressed the screen, tacitly stopping the call. Dropping her device and slowly inhaling, thinking over their exchanged words, she feels as though her heart would burst out her ribcage, closing her eyes for a moment, she wobbles her way to her mother.

"There you are! You've been sleeping for long dear, do you want some medicine?"

She declined, mulling over to sit, behaving unusually. Not bound to go unseen by the elder.

"I think I need a new haircut."

It wasn't like she couldn't afford another leave, she could sit all day in her room without worrying what her bully was going to do, irritatingly so, he's turned to online communication when he can't torment her face to face, eye to eye, recycling a loop of misery, designed purely for her. He was going to force her to give him her home address, if he hadn't already made someone vomit it by violence, verbally or physically. 

She already knew what was in store for her, and dreaded it. 

She almost thought of returning midday with an acted performance of a minor stomach ache or anything she could pretend but realized would only be prolonging the inevitable.

She still didn't want to go.

Stiffly sauntering across the stress, unwillingly making her way to school, to remain a prisoner till the noon, steadily increasing her pace, she carried on, heart dreadfully pounding, releasing shallow exhales, her mind figuring all sorts of scenario to toil with, but still the intense urge to just trot back to her dwelling and not take a step out till she feels stable.

As she continued, she fell into disquieting notions. Soon ceased before her loathed destination.

Faking her smile upon catching a familiar face of her teacher, muttering a good morning, and a slight nod. Then resumed her sad walk to class.

She really wanted to turn back.

She didn't want to go.

She couldn't take it.

Impulsively, desperately, she sprinted through the hallway she'd just passed, pushing towards the entrance and booking it. She did not want to stay.

She kept running till she arrived in a remote area. Gasping heavily, gulping her spit to her scorched throat. Her heart still thumping as loudly as possible, the realization of terror sparked up, dread pooling in her stomach.

She had an arduous time breathing. Her chest was hurting, a keen burning sense rippling inside, she felt tears stream down her warm cheeks, she feels awful. She told her mother she'd go to school and not wander off to the city in a fit of distress, her teachers saw her, wouldn't they question and notice her disappearance? Perhaps even call her parents and let them worry.

Even if she did go back, what reason was she going to give? She came back because her stomach was hurting? Because she was scared? Because she didn't want to go.

Considering both truths and lies.

She'd need to calm down first.

TAGGED PEOPLE

@1zzielizzie @survivorofmath

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𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐃┊rin x reader ft. sae. tormented by his recent injury and decline in mental health, rin visits his family home, only to be met with his biggest issue: you, sae's fiancee.

chapter 1 of after dark miniseries.

WARNINGS. nsfw/suggestive. fem!reader. mostly rin's pov. slowburn. mentions of mental health issues and therapy. mentions of physical injuries. pining. rin & sae are pro players, reader has a backstory and profession. foul language. wc: 6.7k NOTES. eeeeep finally!! first installment is up :> it is a reworked version of what i had already uploaded on my previous blog, so i hope you enjoy this one even more! ♡

There’s something odd hanging heavy in the air – humid and thick as Rin steps out from the airport terminal, suitcase clattering loudly on the sidewalk. 

He wonders if it’s the annoyance pooling deep in his gut, caused by the encounter that took place barely minutes ago – a group of fans recognizing him and the few other players in line to border control.

It’s moments like these that put a pause to his gratitude.

It’s when the discoloration under his eyes could be seen from miles away, and yet, it must seem like he’s less of a human as people just keep on yapping. Talking, grabbing – asking if it’s okay to take a picture. Commenting on a recent goal, congratulating. It wouldn’t have been this annoying if not for the fact Shidou and a few other players were right beside him, and yet, everyone seemed desperate only for a smidge of his attention, toppling him over with inquiries and requests and words of appreciation.

There’s no surprise he’s the center of attention, really – the team captain with an aloof aura, so contradicting and unusual for someone of his status. But there is something even more alluring to him, and it just might the way he still manages to crack a slight smile at one of Ryusei’s comments as they move down the line; a small action that’s gotten recorded anyway, he’s noticed, surely to pop up all over Twitter within an hour or two. When was the last time anyone’s seen him smile, after all? 

It’s puzzling to some still – the complexity of Paris X Gen’s highest-grossing player. Rin’s presence is dangerous enough to keep him marked by the other team at all times and to him it’s always felt ridiculous and low how they seem utterly petrified at the thought of going one-on-one with him. He plays raw and without mercy, taking each player down like his life depends on it. (Thinking about it, it does, in a twisted way that makes his chest tighten at the thought.) It’s a wonder how he appears to be just as intimidating outside the field, eyes sharp and stance tall, but on his good days, he can give a young fan the softest smile possible. It’s a whiplash – but he never called himself easy to be around. No one would really ever venture such a guess.

That’s what brought him to the very top.

A heavy sigh slips past his lips, fingers tugging the corduroy jacket to cover more of his tee-clad chest, and puts a hand up as his designated driver slows down by the entrance. As the vehicle stops and the man gets out to open the trunk, Rin holds back a sigh to see it’s not the usual driver that meets him during most of his flights. (It’s not because he’s pretentious, though he kind of is, sometimes. He just really, really doesn’t want to talk tonight anymore, something his usual would’ve picked up on. There’s no such comfort right now.)

Rin hands his suitcase over to get it into the trunk, then moves to the backseat of the car, hoping for a quiet ride.

It’s nearing midnight, the flight having been postponed due to some issues that he just couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to, and it seems like it’s enough of a reason to keep the driver silent. That, and probably the exhaustion written all over his face, teal eyes zoning out the window and teeth nibbling on chapped lips. Only an idiot would risk picking up some small talk.

He’s back home now, a thoughtful gift for his parents sitting in his suitcase, but there’s no place for nostalgia or relief in his heart. Instead, it fills with dread at the thought of seeing a mess of auburn hair and a pair of turquoise eyes, mirroring his own – no matter how much he resents it. 

If it was all up to him, he’d pretend Sae was never part of their family – act like they had never met, like the elder had never broken his dreams and filled the crevices between his ribs with anxiety and resentment. It’s been what – eight years? Almost a decade (and a few therapy attempts) ago, it seems, but finding his own sense of self, his very own objective and goal not dictated by the eldest anymore, the thought of his brother still makes Rin uneasy at best. 

He wishes he didn’t see the longing in his mother’s eyes, how she cannot stand to see her sons treat each other like air. There wasn’t much either of their parents could do to bring the brothers back on the right track and it seemed like they knew – could see it in the way the younger tensed up, seeing a suitcase by the front door and an additional pair of shoes on the mat. Rin used to wonder if they ever felt guilty for the input (or, more likely, lack of thereof) they had in their upbringing, but quickly figured that people sending out their twelve-year-old son across the globe were not capable of such complex thoughts in the first place. They had their own way of caring about their sons but Rin wasn’t too keen on commending them for the bare minimum.

There was no way to save them, not back then, and not now.

A screech of the driver slamming the brakes brings Rin back from the train of thoughts, safety belt digging into his chest as he jolts forward. He looks through the windscreen, watches as the car that cut in front of them maneuvers sloppily, and the driver shakes his head.

“What are these people on,” he mumbles, and their eyes momentarily meet through the rear view mirror. “S’ that time of the year, isn’t it,”

It’s a bit awkward, the way silence falls over the vehicle quickly after, but honestly, Rin doesn’t mind that much. He knows he comes off aloof, too proud to engage in small talk. It’s a bit of a lifesaver now when it’s getting hard to keep his eyes open anymore.

He hums in agreement and shifts in his seat, long legs spreading out and forward. Carefully, he rolls his ankle, the strain making his brows, more involuntarily than not. He rests the heel of his foot back down and closes his eyes. 

Whether it’s the sprained joint or his pride, it hurts all the same. 

The driver seems to catch up on the striker’s discomfort and quickly leans over, pulling the passenger seat forward to make more space. “There, Itoshi-san. It’ll be a bit of a long drive, so make yourself comfy.” He smiles, a little uneasy still, but as Rin stretches his legs out and gives a small mumble of thank you, he takes it as an incentive. 

“That last goal was out of this world, honestly– I hope you don’t mind.” 

The man sounds sincere, taps his fingers on the steering wheel anxiously. Rin keeps his eyes forward, on the car in front of them. 

“Some called it the season’s best goal. I have to agree.” 

Yeah, he’s heard it, too - all the praise accompanied by pitiful and worried looks as he limped off the field – hoping, praying the camera doesn’t pick up on the seething look brewing behind his teal irises.

This could’ve happened to anyone, and honestly, it wasn’t even that big of a deal when looked at objectively - but at this moment, it was a luxury beyond Rin’s capacity. It’s a light injury, and he might even consider himself lucky it happened on the last match before Christmas break. He’ll have his time off, spend it with family and friends, and go to his physio appointments without any disturbance. (And get his ear talked off, probably. Because as breathtaking this goal was, he had to push the throbbing pain in his joint aside, force his foot into the awkward angle and feel - hear the crunch of the bone as he sent the ball into the net. If this doesn’t scream irresponsible, then what else does? Rin’s not dumb.)

By the time the season restarts, he’ll be as good as new.

But if there’s one thing Sae engraved into his mind, is that he hates pity and resents vulnerability. He wanted to smack the medical team away as they work on his ankle, swollen and reddening within seconds as they tightened the bandage around it, pressing ice bags to the aching joint. 

This can happen to anybody. Anyone but him, it is.

To react to it so passionately isn’t anything unordinary – but it’s everything he wishes he wasn’t. It’s everything Sae always chastised him for.

“Thank you,” Rin simply says and settles on that being his final reply, unwilling to dig deeper into any of it and continue with the obvious minefield of a topic.

The man behind the steering wheel seems to catch up on the subtle sign, a slight smile being his only reply.

Pity floods the vehicle, taunts him and makes the tight loop around his heart pull. Rin despises it more than anything else. There’s not much that’s left to do about it besides biting back on his tongue and leaning back into the seat. 

It’s peaceful for the rest of the hour-long drive. Starry skies invite him to look out the window, gaze growing unfocused with exhaustion and thoughts that race through his mind with the speed of light. If he focused hard enough he’d be able to actually hear the whispers of shame.

He wishes there was a way to silence that, tune out the taunting like the driver did to the radio upon noticing the striker’s tired look. 

Come to think of it, Rin’s therapist did say it’ll take some time – long hours spent dwelling over his notepad, trying to reach inside to grasp his ego and the issues that burn at it the most, only to scribble them down on the paper and try to voice them out in the office a few days later. He’s never been good with communication or speaking his mind, at least not in the conventional way that won’t leave the recipient in tears or shock, but he managed, somehow. He got his point across and his therapist even claimed having seen worse. It’s uncertain how much of it was honest but the thought alone leaves Rin realizing that he has again taken the very route of thought he’s supposed to watch out for. 

Rin appreciates people, to some extent, especially those who carry the same work ethic as he does. Perhaps it was a part of the therapist’s job, but something rubbed him the wrong way about the final session that took place a while ago. The man knew these words would seep into every crevice of Rin’s mind, sit heavy on his heart, and that’s why the whole ordeal was abruptly cut short – cause he couldn’t, didn’t want to hear any of it anymore.

Not everyone has ill intentions, Rin. As long as you’re hung up on what your brother did, you’ll have a hard time trusting others. We’ve been seeing each other for long enough to let me say that I know you don’t want to admit it, but trust me when I say, you should, sooner or later. 

The car comes to a stop right by the curb. Warm, yellowish light seeps through the familiar windows and hits the sidewalk. Familiarity washes over Rin like a tide but does little to ease the discomfort growing in his chest.

He blinks once, pulled from his thoughts.

“There you go.”  The driver glances at him over his shoulder and unbuckles himself, about to help him with his suitcase but is stopped by a wave of Rin’s hand.

“S’okay. Thank you.”

He hums and fishes for his wallet in the pocket of his jeans. He pulls out a bill and places it in the man’s hand, undoing his seat belt and opening the door, ignoring the small sound of protest his generous tip elicited. 

Rin gets out of the vehicle, careful as he shifts his weight to the wounded ankle, and takes his suitcase out from the trunk. There’s a harsh thud as the wheels hit the ground and a complimenting soft puff, heavy scent of smoke filling his lungs. He glances up at the elderly man, who now stands by the driver’s door and takes a drag of his cigarette. The guy’s a little unusual, Rin noticed, with how easy-going he was being ever since picking him up from the airport. (He’s never accepting a recommendation from Ryusei again.)

No matter what he does and despite his best efforts, there will always be a pair of eyes trained on him at all times. It’s little difference whether it’s the field or the streets of Kamakura. 

He holds the eye contact, waits for the man to speak. It comes with an exhale, a cloud of white reaching him from across the car.

“Good night, Itoshi-san.” Rin feels his eye twitch. It’s a conscious choice not to frown “Get well soon.”

Cold breeze seeps under his jacket and sends shivers down his back, aching and slightly hunched. It’s a contrast to the bubbling, stinging bitterness that begins to eat away at his insides, but the mixture altogether makes Rin feel like hyperventilating. 

He bites his tongue and tastes iron.

It’s a wise choice to just give a small nod and turn on his heel, stepping away towards where he can faintly make out his mother’s voice from inside the house. A half his lifetime’s worth of memories waits behind the mahogany door and makes it all the harder to believe it - the warm smiles sent his way, earnest wishes spoken with the purest intentions.

His best (and only) option is to at least try. 

By the time Rin’s suitcase is put down by the bed in his old bedroom and he’s clad in a set of hoodie and sweatpants, sat down at the dining table and slurping up the last sips of miso soup, the uneasy feeling is nowhere to be found anymore.

(Or at least, he’s succeeded in pushing it to the very back of his mind, until it’s barely a hushed hum. He’s grown experienced in ignoring it.)

His mum insisted on hearing about everything that took place throughout the last few months he’s spent back in Paris – but to be fair, there’s not much to tell her, Rin realized. He’s signed a couple new brand deals, yeah, and got a proposition from another prestige club – this time over in England, but it wasn’t anywhere near the salary that he had his eye on. But that’s about it, and there’s not much gossip he could indulge his mother in – even though he knows she wishes there was. (She’s always been playful with him – both of his parents were, actually. They know it riles their second-born up, but know it’s sportive – and that he doesn’t really mind. Not if it’s them, that is. He’ll indulge them in whatever fantasy of their family they’ve made up.)

“I thought you’d surprise us with something, Rin.” His mum quips, taking the bowl from his hands to wash up.

From his seat across the table, his dad breathes out a laugh.

“Don’t you think we’ve had enough surprises this year already?”

Ah.

Teal eyes follow his father’s, to where he gives his wife a look. The woman turns around, a cloth in hand as she dries off a cutting board, and there’s a bit of confusion before her whole face lights up.

“Now that will be hard to top!” Another laugh, leaving him the only unamused one in the room. Not that it doesn’t happen often. “Oh, god. I still cannot believe it.” She sounds excited, very much so, and it leaves a bitter taste on Rin’s tongue, enough to sour his mood and brew the tense feeling deep in his stomach all over again.

He knew, fuck of course he knew there was no way of escaping it. And yet, he was still gullible enough to hope that the holidays would pass without as much as a single mention of it.

“I can’t wait until Sae comes and tells us all about it. You know how he is through the phone- couldn’t get a proper word out of him, but I need to know everything.”

He really tries to fight back the furrow of his brows, for his mother’s sake. It’s only natural she’s excited, a spark in his eyes that he remembers seeing only on the most special occasions. Him getting into Blue Lock, then being selected for the U-20 national team. Him having to move overseas, signing a contract that stuck millions to his name.

(He vaguely recalls the same look plastered on her face when she received the call from Sae’s manager, back when they were kids – the call that would be the beginning of their downfall. Of course he remembers. But, since there’s discomfort already eating away at his chest, he decides to ignore the memory instead. He’s no masochist.)

It’s self-explanatory that she has the same, bright grin spread over her features when she speaks about her oldest son’s engagement.

Sae is engaged – soon to be married.

Sae, the last person he’d ever think is capable of love.

Sae, who’s so harsh and focused on himself, who he’s seen disregard every little speck of affection thrown his way for years.

And fuck does it sound unbelievable – until there’s a certain face flashing in the front of his mind, a pair of bright eyes and a pretty sweet smile that’s enough to make his palms clammy. Until he remembers the only person who can easily melt anyone’s heart – even his brother’s.

Even his o–

He only ever realizes he’d zoned out again when an engine roars softly outside the house, the sound promptly coming to a halt. There’s a sequence of car doors shutting, quiet talking, a trunk being opened.

“Oh! They’re here!”

Rin’s eyes follow his mother as she glances out the kitchen window and tosses the rag down on the counter, jogging over to the front door as the voices grow louder. His dad gets up from his seat as well, much less energetic, but there’s a smile on his lips that mirrors his wife’s–

Rin feels out of place. Terribly so.

It doesn’t fit, the uneasy jitter in his chest that’s such a harsh contrast to the warmth that his parents are about to engulf you and Sae in.

The difference between what he’s feeling compared to them is like nails on a chalkboard, he thinks – and the second he sees the agonizingly familiar head of red hair enter his vision, he shudders as if the sharp sound actually resonates through the room.

It’s not there, but the contrast he’s seeing with his very own eyes is even worse. Sae, in his black sweatpants and a Real Madrid hoodie, with a look on his face that’s so well-rested, it’s unlike anything he’s seen on him lately (even just on the TV screen); and standing right by his side is you. Rin notices you’re too engrossed in tugging your suitcase inside and welcoming his parents, and so, he uses the moment to roll his eyes up your body - the Ugg slippers, beige leggings, a white zip-up fitness jacket, and finally, your face. Dressed in all white, he wonders if you’re doing it on purpose.

It’s a divergence that makes him uneasy. The devil himself, looking far too comfortable with an angel right by his side, with a smile kind enough 

There’s not even one reason for you not to be this joyful, but Rin selfishly wishes there was. It’s a selfish thought but a deliberate one all the same. He wishes that you look this happy, standing next to the very same person behind everything miserable in his life. He wishes to understand, for a way to cut through the dissonance that sits heavy in his head and gives birth to a headache – but it’s been years, fruitless and disappointing. 

Rin only ever realizes he’s still stuck in his seat when his father’s eyes meet his own from a few feet away. It’s not judging per se, more so urging him on to at least pretend, for his mother’s sake. He reads right through it.

He exhales shortly and pushes his chair back with a sound that brings your conversation to a halt. He feels like a martyr when he steps closer to where everyone is standing and feels four pairs of eyes watching him. It makes him want to roll his eyes. (He almost does.)

Sae doesn’t bother to acknowledge him, not even with a show of a smile. He looks up, a fleeting glance to Rin’s face, before nodding his head once. 

“Hey, Rin.” He hums, as indifferent as ever “It’s been a while.”

“It has.” Rin agrees, shrugging as he stuffs his hands into the pocket of his sweatpants. His hands start to ache, fingers twitching. It’s uncomfortable, the way his body tries to provoke a reaction, a way to unload the stress.

Both brothers ignore the way their mum winces at the tension that resonates between the two, how it’s thick enough to suffocate everyone and make them shudder with unease. But no matter how earnest Rin’s attempts are, no matter how hard he tries, he cannot bewitch reality. Instead, a soft hum, warm and sticky-sweet, shatters the ridiculously loud silence.

You’re here too, after all. A savior of sorts.

“A while too long,” The smile you offer him makes Rin want to scream. His chest swells, more unconsciously than not, and his gaze softens, almost instinctively when his eyes drink up your mellow expression “It’s been a year for sure, hm?”

It must be a joke, Rin thinks. How someone who could put down any chaos with their gentle smile stay glued by the hip to a person who makes the world crumble all over again with a single look?

(A joke, or perhaps, a perfectly complete puzzle that keeps the universe intact. If it’s insanity to wish to see it crack and collapse, he’s unashamed to admit it.)

Just when their father gives a slight chuckle, reaches a hand to pat your back, and gives a reassuring rub to your shoulder, Sae clears his throat. With one hand reaching for the suitcase’s handle, he maneuvers it down, as if in thought.

“Was it?” He wonders, the bark worse than the bite as always. Sae’s eyes fall to the floor and though Rin knows he can’t really see it, he knows where he’s looking- and that he’s about to make the injury even worse  “Look at that. You’ve got yourself hurt again.” 

It’s patronizing. It’s demeaning, it’s anything but just a playful quip of one brother to another, and it makes Rin’s eye twitch. He knows Sae’s known this already but he could see it coming from miles away. It doesn’t make it hurt any less.

He opens his mouth to speak, “Will you shu–”

You inhale sharply, cutting him off halfway. 

“Oi, oi,” you give Sae’s arm a light smack, “you’re being mean. Stop.” There’s a glint of something in your eyes when you give your fiance a look and Rin’s not entirely sure what it is, but he watches in astonishment as it shuts the elder up. You turn your head his way again.

You offer him a smile, a bit meek and unsure considering the jab Sae’s made seconds earlier. You spare his ankle just a short glance but apparently decide not to speak up on it before you open your arms for a welcome embrace. “Hi, Rin.”

It’s a simple gesture, really. It’s enough to make him feel like a dumb, hopeless teenager, head over heels for a girl beyond his reach.

It’s hard for him to wrap his mind around how you’re so sympathetic, understanding and warm while seemingly not even trying. He used to ponder if it’s why you chose this career path over any other and knows for sure that it’s why you’re the best at it. You never insist, never push, never inquire – not unless you need to, with the referee’s whistle ringing in your ears and a handful of sweaty, loud men standing right over your head as you work your magic.

It’s no wonder every club wants you as their physio.

Rin’s gotten a chance to feel your hand expertly move on his own skin before. He remembers it clear as a day, though one could think it was seemingly just yet another time he’s gone down on the field. This game proved to be different, though – bizarre in its own right, leaving him with an unsatiable itch.

Every game between Real Madrid and Paris X Gen attracted a lot of attention, just like it generated a spike in Rin’s stress levels. It was a tough game to begin with but facing off against Sae made it a game to remember every single time. Everyone knew the game would be worthwhile – a guaranteed showcase of talent and hard work, a fiend between two brothers, both equally gifted and loudly rumored to be conflicted for years now. The pressure would be enough to knock anyone off their feet, but he could withstand it. It’s the only way he has ever known. Face it. Endure it. Make him eat dirt – show him that you can bite just as hard.

That day, Rin was certain he’d never seen a situation so absurd and unfortunate. Throughout his years as a professional, he was an eyewitness to many fouls and injuries, some more gruesome and fatal than others. But to have three players go down at the same time, two of them from the same team, was not something that’d happen all too often. Rin was aware of his teammate’s fault but wouldn’t dare scold him – not when he’s lying on the turf and gripping his knee tight, the joint stuck at an angle that has Rin wincing at the sight alone. It’s bad, so, so bad, he thinks, watching as the other player struggles to get up with his teammates’ help. Chaos ensues, paramedics jogging over to the scene and putting down all of their necessities and there’s so much of it, there’s barely any space between him and the other player anymore. Rin knows better than to disturb, staying silent despite his position as captain as both teams grow loud and erratic, wild and belligerent. Rin’s eyes follow the ref as he works on subsiding the uproar. It’s a hard job – adrenaline at an all time high – but doesn’t want to spare it any more thoughts. Not when he has a worry of his own, a sharp pain in his ankle that makes him nauseous. 

“Are you okay?” 

He hears a familiar voice, a soft tune that brings him back afloat. His heart hammers in his chest, blood hot in his veins as he props himself up, hand tight on his sprained joint. He looks up and meets your eyes, wide but focused as your line of sight reaches his ankle. 

“I–” Rin hesitates, eyes slightly bewildered as they follow your movements. You crouch down right next to him and pull out a few necessary items from the med kit. An ice pack, he recognizes, a bandage, a stabilizer– “S’probably just a stamp.”

You hum, teeth sunk in your bottom lip as you carefully peel the sock down to reveal the bruised flesh. “Pain? On a scale of one to ten?” You spare him a quick look, delicate fingers gently pressing along the swollen skin. 

Rin grunts, fights back the urge to pull his leg away. “Six.”

With a nod, you work on untying his cleat, pulling it down along with the sock, “Sprained.” You simply point out, and his eyes widen. Your judgment’s quick, scarily so, and he’d hope that maybe you’re wrong – but the certainty in your eyes speaks for itself. He’s never seen you this serious, gaze sharp and movements swift, but then again, it’s the very first time he sees you at work. So far, he’s only ever seen you hanging on Sae’s arm, all smiles and laughter as you attend a family event together.

To have Sae’s girl tend to him like that almost feels like a blow.

“Wait, shit–” Rin’s brows furrow as he shifts, restless. You give him an attentive look. “Hold on. Aren’t you supposed to–”

“Your team’s busy.” You interrupt, eliciting a hiss from the striker as you work the bandage around the sole of his feet, and then stabilize it around his ankle. “He’s got a concussion and misses a tooth or two. All on top of his kneecap popping out.” Rin stiffens, eyes involuntarily searching for his teammate. He sees him being handled onto the stretcher, holding his hands over his head, groans and cries reaching his ears and it makes his heart drop. 

You plop the icepack on top of his ankle and bring his focus back to you. “I don’t care who I’m with. I’m here to help.” You offer a small smile though something’s telling you it won’t give much reassurance. You know your boyfriend’s brother – heard all about him and encountered him numerous times before. Most of all, you’ve seen the burning passion behind his eyes as he steps onto the turf. He’s not backing down. You pick your words carefully but say them firmly as ever. “I’m sorry, Rin, but you’re off.”

Rin vaguely remembers the protest that rose deep within his chest, making his blood boil as you helped him up. He knew better than to stand his ground and try to pretend that it’s not a big deal, knew all the possible consequences too well to act so stubbornly. He put years of such behavior behind him a while ago. He remembers the worried expression flashing across your features as your eyes met upon him plopping down on the bench – he saw it all, the compassion with pity yet to come.

It never did. 

You only left him with a heartfelt look, warm and kind, and confusion blossoming in his chest, growing on top of the uncertainty and anger. 

You’re always like this, Rin realizes. Always so collected and warmhearted, only ever welcoming him with hospitality and genuine worry, never pitying him. You’ve never given him any sort of look that he’s known to despise. 

He wishes you could be this way with him only, so attentive and sweet. It’s selfish but he does not necessarily hate the thought, or himself for embracing it so freely for that matter. 

His desire has been running rampant for a while now. It should be a shameful realization but though  Rin’s never been particularly in tune with his emotions, he knows it really isn’t. He’s smarter than he looks (though no one really would think otherwise) –  he knows you’re not his and never will be. He’s painfully aware of the only reason you ever rushed over to him, despite being the rival team’s assigned physiotherapist, and how it’s your awfully big heart, aching to help and bring comfort.

There’s plenty of space here. None of it belongs to him.

The memory vaguely plays out in his mind as he inhales your scent, the irritation subsiding and making way for the annoyingly fuzzy feeling. It’s been a year or even more. Long months since he’s last seen you and since you became engraved deep into his mind, his source of all kinds of thrills, some more disgraceful than others.

Throughout the years you’ve been with Sae, he never even thought to spare you a second glance. But ever since you treated him so kindly, looked at him with such warmth, he selfishly wishes he was the one giving you the Itoshi name instead. 

He wraps his arms around your frame and gives it a gentle squeeze as if his head isn’t bursting at the seams with rumination, greeting you with a rub on the back.

It’s only good decorum to greet you properly like this but Rin considers it a small mercy, getting a chance to feel your scent again.

Your hand rests on his back, fingers flexing on the sturdy muscle a bit, before pulling away entirely. You beam up at him, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as your head tilts with a smile. For a second, Rin thinks you might want to say something else, tell him more (talk to him sweetly just for a little longer, like he so desperately desires)  – but you opt not to, and instead, turn to face his brother again. “I’ll put these away,” You say, reaching for his suitcase. “And hop in the shower. I stink like the airport.”

The way you scrunch your nose makes Rin’s mouth twitch with a ghost of a smile.

“Sure,” Sae hands you off the luggage, but only after leaning in to give your lips a quick peck. “I’ll grab you a snack, okay?”

“M'kay,” you give a breathy giggle at the action, and Rin realizes he might be far behind in being familiar with the ridiculous ways you’ve changed his brother.

This look, lovesick and full of adoration, is one that he’s never seen on his older brother before. He can’t make up his mind on how it makes him feel.

His mom offers to remind you where Sae’s old room, as well as the bathroom, are and ushers you off with a few gentle touches and laughter that disappears down the corridor. His dad leaves to boil the kettle to make some tea, and for barely a few beats of silence, it’s just the two of them standing there. One craning his head slightly upwards, the other glaring down, the two brothers stare each other down – and Rin hates it, hates the way he has to swallow the knot in his throat and tear his gaze away. It’s a show of taking the higher ground as he only makes a slight face and then turns on his heel to leave the room altogether.

When his dad returns to the conjoined area, balancing three mugs in one hand and holding up the full pot in the other, he doesn’t seem all that surprised to see just Sae standing there, pulling his hoodie off and throwing it over the chair silently.

The man sighs, setting down the dishes, and only looks up when Sae breathes out a laugh, humorless and dry.

“Just like the old times.”

Rin is not sure how long he’s been scrolling down his phone, or how much time has passed since he first plopped down on the king-sized bed in his old bedroom. It didn’t have to take long, but sleep is starting to weigh down on his lids already, leaving him with a cottonmouth and he tears a slight grunt from his throat upon realizing that the whole water bottle he’d drank is now pressing against his bladder uncomfortably.

Tossing the phone away and propping himself up, Rin feels the tired muscles in his arm strain as he digs the palm of his other hand into his eyes, rubbing the exhaustion away. It works just enough to ease the slight sting, feet planted onto the ground as he gets up and strides across the dark room.

It must’ve been an hour, two tops, he supposes, reaching for the handle. The voices on the other side of the door have grown softer and he vaguely makes out the voices to be Sae’s and his father’s, probably still talking over yet another round of tea. It would make sense for everyone else to be asleep, as his mom was always an early sleeper, and you lookied quite worn out back in the living room. You’ve probably dozed right off as soon as you hit the bed, all warm and comfortable from your shower. 

Rin pushes the door open and finds himself jolting in surprise when his eyes fall on your face. You pull at the door using the same momentum and if the way your mouth falls agape is anything to go by, you’re just as shocked to see him. 

It wouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary, just another encounter to laugh off by tomorrow morning’s cup of coffee. But the way you peer up at him – doe eyes wide and startled, a single rivulet of water streaming down your flushed cheeks as damp hair sticks to your forehead – knocks the breath out of his lungs.

His gaze follows the lonely droplet’s path between your collarbones, then down the valley of your breasts. You’re warm, just like he’d thought, but also very much bare except for the fluffy white towel you’re clutching oh, so tightly to your heated skin. A meek sound of surprise catches in your throat and Rin has to bite back a groan as the sharp movement only makes your tits press against each other even tighter. “Hah– o-oh, huh, I’m sorry– thought Sae’s room was–” 

Rin cuts off the jumble of words, “It’s right across.” He corrects, voice a gravelly tune that has your knees knocking together in a sheepish buckle. Your cheeks scorch, blood rushing to the soft flesh and you feel like a fish pulled right out of water, gaping up at the tall man. “Excuse me.”

You’re not entirely too sure why Rin’s attitude towards you took such a turn – but the way he pushes past you, tough muscle bumping against your finer frame, has you yelping in surprise. You jerk a little when the bathroom door slams shut and turn to look behind yourself, a soft furrow to your brows, but ultimately decide to get back to the right room this time before the sheer embarrassment eats you alive. 

On the other side of the door, Rin grabs at the sink with one hand, keeping balance as he peels his sweatpants off. His head feels heavy, hanging between his shoulders as he tugs his boxers down along with his pants, then stands back on two feet and tugs off his sweatshirt, grip tight on the fabric.

It’s almost ridiculous, the way his heart hammers in his chest as if he didn’t know any better. The familiar, unbearable throb between his thighs feels like a sin. To some extent, it must be one, Rin realizes. He can be a martyr and a sinner all the same. He couldn’t care any less, either.

It’s a joke, all of it, he thinks as he steps into the shower yet again tonight. The water is instantly warm as soon as he turns it on, a remnant of your bath, he supposes, but the spray isn’t meant to bring him any comfort this time. Most importantly, it’s a sheer white noise that makes his thought a little more bearable. It works very little to soothe his strained and taut muscles as his back flexes when he reaches his hand down, fingers wrapping around the throbbing girth, but silences his grunt of relief perfectly.

Rin’s pretty sure it’s some sick joke at his expense by the time he shuts his eyes, a groan stuck somewhere deep inside of his chest, where he can swallow it down and keep it untraceable. All of it has to be some sort of get back, a play at his willpower and conscience for all the fucked up shit he’s done so far in life. (Just how bad did he fuck up to deserve this – to face someone like you, an unbearable temptation, a lure strong enough to break a saint?)

Not everyone has ill intentions, but Rin’s certain he does. There’s no other way to describe the sensation licking at his spine – the lust for your flesh, the desire to keep you close. It’s raw and shameful, enough to overwhelm him, let alone a being as sweet and darling as you.  He wishes the realization didn’t have to come like this, as he’s gasping for air, nearly doubling over in the steamy shower. 

There’s no space for forgiveness, but there is for revenge. It becomes clear as ever when Rin spills himself all over the tiles, a moan of your name mixing in with the steam as all sense of morality goes down the drain.

© 2023 grinmjows. do not copy any writing or layouts; do not repost/mention my works on other social media. chain divider by @/cafekitsune. this is a remastered repost from my previous blog.