Something About You (04) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: friends au, vacation au, slow burn, romcom-ish vibe; adulting; inspired by AYS; PE teacher!JK and researcher!OC; fluff, comfort, smut (?)

Chapter Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption, mentions of cheating, an aggressive man, minor injury (18+)

Word count: 16.5k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

Series Summary: You and Jungkook have been friends for a decade. And while he’s the charming and dependable, often reserved boy-next-door, he’s also just been a friend - a constant in your life, a part of a whole, and someone who’s seen all the flawed and probably unattractive sides of you.

A resumption of your friend group’s out-of-town trips has caused you to spend more time with him. And somewhere in between the morning coffee in the forest, running around in the snow, and watching the sunset on a boat, he’s become something more. And you’re not quite sure how to deal with it.

🎶: Beautiful Soul by Jesse McCartney || Yes or No by Jungkook

Spending the holidays in Busan brings about unparalleled comfort, as Jungkook fills his days with video games, hangouts with Jimin in their favorite spots, riding his motorcycle, and home cooked meals.

Whenever he’s at home, he feels like a child where he does whatever he wants and where he’s doted on by his parents, which he can’t really argue with as an adult.

It grounds him somehow. It reminds him of how he felt growing up - wanting to be valued and taken care of but also being trusted and respected. He knows that his students feel the same way as middle and high school kids who are just starting to figure things out. It’s always a good start to his year, and it gives him clarity and that sense of direction.

That’s probably the only good thing about being home this year because other than that, he’s reminded of his physical distance from you, the time you’re not spending together, and the conversations and banter you’re not having.

You’re back in your hometown, too, and he knows that the holidays with your relatives is your favorite thing in the world. You’ve always been close with your cousins, as most of you spent your childhood at your grandparents’ farm. Only you and Hayoung are based in Seoul so it’s a celebration every time you visit. It’s busy times, too, as you spend the days playing with your nieces and nephews and driving around the surrounding towns.

Jungkook knows this, so he looks forward to your or Hayoung’s messages in the group chat, which would usually just be photos or a funny story or a little accident that involves you. It’s the only time he actually reads the messages and that itself is an indication that he misses you terribly, much more than he expected he would.

The Sapporo trip suddenly feels like a lifetime ago. He spent everyday with you - seeing you in the morning, teasing you throughout the day, being in your little bubble of weirdness, talking about serious and mundane things, and falling asleep to your adorable soft snoring.

He thought that spending it how he did was his way of settling into his feelings for you - just feeling it, trying to figure it out or understand it. He still doesn’t know how he got here, even if he could point to some moments where things started to change.

Perhaps he’s only thinking about it as much as he is because you don’t think that could just happen to you - that you could just one day feel differently about a person you’ve known for years. You feel intensely, instantaneously, and he supposes if you were ever to like him, you would’ve done so a long time ago but that ship never sailed and he’s unsure if it ever will.

That still doesn’t stop him from thinking about you though. He sees your photos and reads your sometimes short and sometimes long narrations of what you’re doing and he imagines your pouty face or constant complaints and it makes him smile.

He thinks of teasing you about stubbing your toe or getting followed by bugs or your slow walking and that makes him feel giddy, too. Even the thought of you talking about current events and the pervasiveness of patriarchy in every aspect of social life is something he seeks.

And then there are the puppy eyes and sweet smile when you want something that makes him want to just give it all to you. But there’s also the affection - your hugs, your playful smacking, your shoulder leaning, and the occasional hand on top of his that makes his heart take a leap just reminiscing about it.

He feels a little silly, as he’s perhaps had hundreds of those moments with you in the past but he’s never thought much about them until recently. Until after your trip to Chungbuk, if he’s being specific.

And now he replays them in his head over and over again just because he wants more, even if he’s the one who’s not texting nor replying, and he’s slowly losing his mind.

It’s been two weeks and other than your messages to the group, both of you haven’t spoken. He knows you’re busy and he’s the one with spare time. He could easily reach out to you and you’ll probably reply, but given all this yearning, he’s nervous he’ll overdo it, that he’ll say or do something out of the ordinary and you’ll see right through him.

It’s the day of his trip back to Seoul. He and Jimin will drive out in the afternoon and they’re spending their last few hours in his living room, just playing games after a morning of riding his bike around town.

His best friend’s phone rings and he puts the call on speaker while trying to score a goal in a game of FIFA.

“Jiminie!” your voice cuts through the crowd cheering sound effect. “How’s my annoying best friend doing without me?”

The surprise from hearing you causes Jungkook’s mind to go blank. It leaves Jimin free near the net and he scores a point.

“Finally!” Jimin yells. “Did you see that, Kook? You sucked and I kicked a goal.”

Jungkook waves him off, his pride not too hurt because only he knows his momentary lapse was because of you and not for his lack of skills.

“You’re with Kook?!” You chirp.

“Yeah, we’re playing video games in his house,” Jimin replies.

“Kook! How are you?! I miss you!” You shriek. “I didn’t know if you were alive because you weren’t reacting to my messages in the group chat. Did you know that I almost slipped into a gutter? And that we went hiking with my cousins and I slid down my butt?”

“He knows because I told him,” Jimin says. “It’s not like he reads messages.”

“Hey, I do,” Jungkook corrects. He really does though, very rarely. Recently, all the time when it’s from you. “You also rode an ATV and got stuck in the mud.”

“So you read my messages! Why didn’t you reply then!” You whine.

“It’s pointless to laugh at you if you can’t hear or see me,” he reasons. “But yes, I saw them. Everyone was posting about how their holidays were going so I read through them.”

“Well, you would’ve laughed hard if you saw me.”

“And then you would’ve smacked me for doing so,” Jungkook points out.

“That is very true. Then you would’ve scolded me but then proceeded to treat my wounds,” you giggle. “As expected. Anyway, what have you bums been up to?”

“What do bums do, ___?” Jimin replies after making a defensive play. “We literally just eat and play and ride around when we’re home. And it’s been perfect.”

“Sucks I’m not there to piss you off though,” you say.

“Right? This is what peaceful living is like,” your best friend responds. “But I’m gonna deal with your annoying ass soon so let me savor this.”

“You better,” you hum. “Did you get enough rest, Kook?”

“Lots of it actually,” he half lies. He spent much of these two weeks agonizing over being away from you. “But I guess I’m ready to get back to work. I’ll start coaching the taekwondo team next week.”

“Already? Isn’t it still the winter break?” You wonder.

“Training starts early because of the competition in March,” he answers.

“Ooh, new kids to cheer for?” you excitedly ask.

“If you’re free on Wednesdays and Saturdays, sure,” Jungkook says. “But no pressure, ___.”

“I’ll make time,” you promise him.

“Okay, then,” he hums, doing his best to keep his smile from forming over the thought of spending time with you again.

“Anyway, I just wanted to check up on my friends. Gonna go play with the kids at the park now,” you say. “Careful when you drive to the city! See you guys soon!”

“Miss you! I’m going to your place right when you get back!” Jimin sneaks in.

“Don’t hurt yourself!” Jungkook adds, and you respond to him in laughter, a sound he definitely misses.

Jimin drops the call and shifts his full focus on the game.

“Well, she sounds jolly. Glad she got her joy back,” Jimin comments. “I remember last year, I begged her to take a longer leave and spend another week with her family so she could deal with her burnout.”

“Did she stay?”

“No. She said she’d be more stressed with all the backlog.”

“How’d she get through that, by the way?” Jungkook asks, immediately being reminded of how uninvolved he was at certain points in your life.

“Mo-eum and I convinced her to talk to her manager and apparently others were feeling it, too, so there was a restructure that happened and it helped with her workload,” Jimin explains. “But she would also take her leaves because she barely did, and she tried her best to switch off once she clocked out and that also helped a lot. She didn’t talk about work when we were in Japan, didn’t she?”

“Nope, which is good. At least she got the help she needed,” Jungkook hums, content that even if he didn’t know the extent of your stress that time, you were able to deal with it properly.

As an educator, he knows enough about burnout, especially when he has to deal with his students’ problems on top of just teaching them. He’s always tried to manage his emotions and compartmentalize. Working out and going back to playing the sports he loves helped him tremendously with that.

“Yeah, she did. But she’s doing so much better now and I guess having Tae back and doing our trips again lifted her spirits even more. Like, she gets to take actual breaks and be around us,” Jimin shares. “I guess watching your students’ matches gave her something new to do, too. She really enjoyed that.”

“She did,” Jungkook smiles, realizing now how those afternoons of you cheering for his team was also beneficial for you. “And well, there’ll be other matches for her to watch.”

“Yeah, it should be fun,” Jimin nods. “Anyway, one more game. I’m beating you this time.”

Jungkook drops Jimin off at his place and spends the drive to his apartment thinking of you again. He knows that even with your ability to express yourself, there are some things you don’t share with everyone. There were times when you were open to him about your thoughts and feelings though, and he takes them as a sign of your feeling of comfort around him and of your trust.

He looks back at the instances where you’d thanked him for making you feel good about yourself, and while he thought it was a natural thing for him to do that, he realizes it probably meant more to you than he expected. He hopes he continues to make you feel at ease around him, as he realizes that that’s what he feels when he’s with you.

There’s assurance and trust that you understand him. There’s comfort in your words no matter how playful or cheeky they are. There’s that affection over the things he does and his fondness over the things you do. And then there’s that desire to take care of you, to make you feel comforted and understood just the same.

He takes a deep breath before he exits his car. Two weeks of being away from you and he’s settled into his feelings. He knows they’re not fleeting. He also knows they’re not just because he wants to be a better friend to you.

As he checks his phone and sees a message from you in the group chat asking him and Jimin if they got home safely and tagging him to reply, Jungkook thinks that now is when he starts wanting more.

And he’s not exactly sure how to go about it. Or if it’s a feeling you’ll even reciprocate.

It’s been three weeks since Jungkook returned to Seoul and two weeks since you did. You apparently had to use up your remaining leaves until mid-January so you decided to stay in Gwangju for a few more days. He knew that because he sent you a message after you announced it in the group chat, and you’ve sort of been texting each other since then. It’s not an all-day nor daily type of thing but it’s much better than not hearing from you at all.

He told you that he got assigned to accompany the high school table tennis team to a competition in Sokcho for a few days after one of their assistant coaches got sick. You told him that you started working on your operations plan on your first day back at work and that you had to stay in Daejeon for a weekend to attend a conference because one of your managers couldn’t go. With that, he missed your friends’ Sunday lunch out, and then you missed dinner and drinks the Friday after that.

It’s now the end of January and Jungkook’s been living off of the occasional text messages from you and nothing more. As it’s the Saturday before the end of the winter break, he takes this time to relax and decides on making himself some bulguri noodles and then going for a jog later in the afternoon.

On your end, you intend on cleaning up your apartment after over a month of barely being around. You make a checklist in your head of what to do first when suddenly, your light turns off and for the briefest moment, you think you’re being haunted. But you remember it’s just past lunchtime and ghosts won’t appear until the evening.

You just paid your bills so that’s not the issue. You call your neighbor and find out that she has her light on, so it’s probably just you. So you ask for help.

[to: My Elders] How do you change a lightbulb?

You know that searching online would lead to multiple results, which ironically is going to overwhelm you, so you ask your very adult, very capable friends for advice. Surely they’ll be able to instruct you properly.

[from: joonie] I’d tell you if I knew

[from: uncle yoon] DON’T. TOUCH. ANYTHING.

[from: suhyeonie] please be careful!!

[from: jiminie pabo] someone pls get to her right away before she burns down her apartment or electrocutes herself

[from: my taetae] kook?

[from: bunny kook] coming

You sigh in relief once Jungkook confirms that he’s on his way. And while you think you can follow instructions had your friends called or sent them in - which they didn’t - it’s probably better if someone does it for you. Jungkook just happens to be the one who lives the closest.

You try to clean up whatever you can while waiting for him but you only manage to fold some of your clothes before the intercom is ringing and you’re granting him access to come up. He rings the doorbell and you greet him immediately.

“My savior,” you chirp, fluttering your eyelashes.

“Yah, I’m already here,” he playfully shakes his head. “No need for puppy eyes or whatever that is.”

“It’s my thankful face!” You correct him. “Not that I expected anyone to be empathic to my plight but wow, our friends were not helpful. Except maybe for Tae, who asked you to come.”

“You know you can search online for this, right?” Jungkook chuckles as he gets your stool and starts unwinding your old lightbulb.

“Yeah but AI will tell me one thing, WikiHow will tell me another, so will TikTok… I just didn’t want to be overwhelmed.”

“You… a researcher… didn’t want to be overwhelmed with… information?”

“Kook, since when did basic things make sense to me?” You pout.

“I’m pretty sure they’re not that hard to comprehend.”

“Look, if it didn’t involve a possible fire or electrocution, I’d manage,” you argue. “I mean, I can do other things. Just not… this. I’m scared to make a mess.”

You say it so softly and Jungkook hopes he didn’t make you feel bad or anything. It’s not that you expect people to just do everything for you because you actually watch others do them - like now, as you stand close to him and observe him as he replaces your old bulb with a new one. He just thinks there are things you can’t really grasp because you weren’t exposed to them. He knows you can manage yourself on a farm because you grew up going to one but when it comes to household management, you always had the rest of your family to do them for you.

He finishes and turns on the switch to see if it’s working, and you squeal in joy when it does.

You even go to him and give him a hug, which catches him off guard. He returns it though, and a part of him wishes he’d prepared for this so he wouldn’t act so nonchalant about it.

“___, it’s just a lightbulb,” he points out.

You let him go and laugh, not seeming bothered one bit. He was a little worried that he might come off as snobbish to you though, even if he thinks it’s something he’d totally say.

“It’s a belated hug, Kook. I feel like I haven’t seen you in so long,” you say.

“Because you haven’t. It’s been, what– 5, 6 weeks since Sapporo?”

“Yeah, that feels like a lifetime ago,” you sigh. “I wanna go back! But yeah, you haven’t been around to make fun of me and to take care of me so it feels that much longer. I kinda missed you.”

You say it so casually yet you have no idea how much it’s affecting him. Again, it’s something you’ve said to him so many times before. But it sounds different to him now, only because he wishes it carries a different meaning than you probably don’t intend.

He can’t bring himself to say it back, only because he’s worried about how it’ll come out, so he expresses wanting to hang out with you instead… in a not so direct way.

“Well, I’m here and I changed your lightbulb, although I suggest getting an LED one so it’s more efficient and it’ll last long,” he advises, given that what you have is the incandescent one. “Do you wanna get one at the store? I can replace that already so you won’t have to worry about this one again.”

“Sounds like a plan,” you smile sweetly. “But now that you’ve mentioned it, maybe we can get a few more things?”

Jungkook chuckles to himself as he nods then sits on your couch while you change your clothes in the walk-in closet. He hoped for a quick run at the shops and maybe grab something to eat, perhaps talk more about how your past few weeks have been.

But now, you’ll probably have more time together and that satisfies his desire of being around you. It truly has been so long that he was close to wondering if the Japan trip had been a dream.

The “things” you wanted to get turn out to be Pilates clothes.

You and Jungkook arrived at the mall an hour ago and quickly got an LED light bulb at the home store. But then you dragged him to the other floor and into a shop full of leggings and tank tops and sports bras that he just looked at you blankly and you responded with a giggle.

He now awkwardly stands by one of the shelves with hoodies and has to act unbothered when he sees you pick up a few things, willing his mind not to go to places.

“I’ll be quick, I promise,” you say.

And you do keep it. He expected you to be in the fitting room for at least 30 minutes but you were done in 10. You say that you just need to try the size and you’ll get it in different colors. Efficient, and something he also does.

“Hayoung convinced me to get into Pilates,” you share as you grab the bag from the counter. “She said it’ll help with the stress. And getting my weakening body moving because I’m just in front of the screen most days. I thought I should give it a try so I signed up at the studio near my apartment and I just need to get the proper outfit for it.”

“That sounds good,” he smiles, softening at how you’re truly trying to manage your stress levels so as not to feel burnt out again. “I know that’ll help. When do you start?”

“Next week! So I just have to get these washed and then I’ll be good. I hope I don’t fall on my face while using the machine,” you suddenly frown.

“You won’t. Just don’t force yourself with the tension of the strings,” he advises. “You’re there to exercise and relax, not to get hurt. Yeah?”

“I’ll try. I’ll tell you how it goes,” you smile.

“Can’t wait to hear it.”

You mindlessly walk around and Jungkook just follows, not knowing what else you have in mind. He’s about to internally sulk at the thought that today might just end here when you stop in your tracks and turn to him.

“Did you have anything else planned today?” You ask.

“Just a jog,” he shrugs, quickly adding that it’s something he can do tomorrow once your face falls a little. “Why? Did you want to buy anything else?”

“I don’t have an outfit for our all-white college reunion party,” you pout.

“That’s in three months” he says.

“Two and a half,” you correct. “I wanna get a dress already because I’m definitely gonna forget it. And so I have time to have it dry-cleaned. Do you have something to wear?”

“Uh, a white shirt?”

“Boo, corny,” you chide. “It’s gonna be at a Club, Kook,” you remind him, referring to the one owned by Jihyo, your friend from university who also organized the event.

“What else am I supposed to wear?” Jungkook laughs.

“Well, you can show up in a tank top and you’d still look nice,” you say nonchalantly as you head towards another direction.

“Did you just compliment my looks?” He jogs after you. “You’ve never done that!”

“Oh, don’t be dramatic. I always praise your cute nose.”

“That… that was never a compliment,” he frowns.

But you don’t mind him, as you quickly enter a store and start looking around.

He follows you and observes how you shop. You touch the items hanging on the shelf as you pass them by even if it’s not what you’re looking for. When you see something you think you like, you stare at it for a good five minutes before deciding to either try it on or put it back. When you do try on something, you’re quite expressive, as he could hear you groan or yelp even when he’s outside the fitting room area.

You leave another store empty-handed and you apologize for dragging him around and possibly boring him. He insists he’s fine and that it’s not like it’s something he hasn’t done before, clarifying that he’d accompanied Mo-eum to look for clothes a few times before as well. Obviously, he doesn’t want to imply anything by saying that he’s done this too many times with his ex-girlfriends but looking back, he wasn’t as entertained with them as he is with you.

Though you tend to hyperfocus when you’re doing something, surprisingly when it comes to shopping, you’re very engaging. You ramble, like you often do, but you also ask him things and try to get his opinion.

It’s been over an hour of looking around but you still haven’t found anything. The ones you like are too pricey and the others just don’t fit right. You find a newly-opened store and get excited when you see the clothes are your style and you quickly choose a couple for you to try on. He’s mindlessly looking around when he hears you call for him.

He sees your head peeking out of the curtains. With the sales person attending to another customer, you ask him to help you tie the straps of the dress you have on.

“They’re supposed to be ribbons but I can’t tie them properly,” you say. “Can you fix them so I can see if it’s nice?”

He nods as he works on them, trying his best to make the knot look pretty. You turn around so he can work on the other side and he does his best to not fall into the temptation of looking at you while he does. When he finishes, you face the mirror and smile.

“It looks pretty,” you beam.

“It does. So are you getting that?”

“Hmm, probably the other one,” you say, gesturing towards one of the several dresses hanging on the hook. “That one looked nicer.”

“Oh,” is all he can say. You already look pretty in this one so that could only mean that the other option is much prettier. “Okay.”

“Mission accomplished,” you smile at him now. “I’ll get dressed and get that!”

It’s late in the afternoon by the time you finish, and you’re reminded that you’ve only had some sweet bread all day and you’re starving, something Jungkook learns when your stomach starts to grumble.

“So… early dinner?” He chuckles.

“Yes. And we’re having Japanese.”

He suggests a hotpot place after you said that you miss the soup he made on your last night in Sapporo. He comments that you seem to enjoy his cooking a lot and you remark that they’re very hearty and that he should cook for you more. It’s a request he doesn’t mind fulfilling, especially if that’ll mean being with you again.

You order a similar-tasting broth from the one he made, and you sigh in delight at just being able to take in the scent of a restaurant that reminds you of your trip from a few weeks ago.

“That week felt so fast,” you say. “The days were long and slow but they somehow still ended so soon. Did you enjoy that trip, Kook?”

“Of course. Why’d you think I wouldn’t?”

“I don’t know. I hurt your abs and smacked you with a pillow and you gave me a piggyback ride and dealt with my injuries,” you shrug.

“But I got free beer and a nice bottle of whiskey,” he reminds you.

“True. And I didn’t elbow your face when I slept next to you,” you remind him as well.

“Yup, that was a very big factor,” he nods.

“I couldn’t hurt the nose,” you sweetly smile at him.

He just playfully shakes his head at you and you clarify that you just find it adorable.

At least you find him charming, he thinks to himself.

You sit across from each other as you devour your dinner and talk about more stories of your visit to your hometown and how his weeks of training his students have been. You reminisce about Sapporo once more and mention the places you want to travel to in the future.

You’re laughing about a memory from your Hong Kong trip years ago when Jungkook gets a call. When you find out it’s Taehyung on the other end, you ask for the phone to say hi.

“___!” Taehyung greets. “I was just asking Kook if he got to save your ass from being electrocuted or something.”

“Yes, he did,” you playfully roll your eyes. “Thanks for telling him to go to me though. I would’ve waited for him to pity me before I asked him to come over.”

“Nah, he would’ve gone to you either way,” your friend laughs. “Where are you now?”

“Having dinner out,” you say. “We bought an LED light bulb and I ended up running errands and I dragged him with me. Poor guy had to deal with my annoying ass today,” you add, as if lamenting on his behalf. “I at least didn’t trip or hurt myself.”

“That’s new,” Taehyung hums. “But I’m sure he doesn’t mind it. Anyway, I was just asking him to send me something. I’ll leave you two to your dinner. See you on Thursday after work?”

“Yes, at 5 PM,” you say, referring to this string quartet charity event you asked him to watch with you. “Here’s Kook.”

You give the phone back to Jungkook and slurp the remainder of soup in your bowl.

“Yeah, I’ve got all the ones you asked for. I’ll give the hard drive tomorrow. Bye!”

He drops the call and you ask him what Taehyung needed.

“He asks me to download movies for him,” Jungkook says. “Like, the black and white Hollywood kind. They’re kinda hard to find.”

“Aww, Kook. That’s sweet. So you’re who he gets them from,” you smile. “So wait, can you download movies for me, too?”

“Sure, just tell me what you want. I can give you the hard drive on—”

“Saturday? There’s no rush. I won’t get to watch until the weekend, anyway.”

“Alright, then.”

“Thank you,” you smile at him again, the kind that’s meant to express your appreciation for all the things he does for you.

And the thing is, he doesn’t mind doing them. Even if he didn’t have these developing feelings for you, it’s something he’d still do. He’s never minded doing you favors or being collateral damage when you hurt yourself or having to take care of you when you do. He’d always done them willingly because it’s what he does for all his friends.

He supposes that the difference now is the anticipation of seeing you again when he does. It’s the excitement over knowing you’d ask him to do something and your accompanying smile and laughter. He supposes there’s more attachment in how he looks after you and in how he returns your affection.

And now with every spontaneous day or planned weekend you make him share with you, he enjoys each minute of it. Not just through your ramblings but through your silence, too; not just in your moments of triumph but in your instances of doubt as well.

It’s like settling into the feeling but more. It’s as if somewhere along the way of your friendship, he learned to settle into you.

“I thought you wanted to watch this,” Jungkook mumbles as he munches on some popcorn. “Why are you covering your face?”

“Because it’s scary, duh,” you bite back as you wrap one arm around your folded legs while your other hand makes slits over your eyes. “The spirit's gonna kill the sons now!”

“Well yeah, that’s what bad spirits do,” he deadpans. “Why did you want to watch this in the first place?”

“Because I heard it’s a good mo– Ah!” You squeal. You wait for the next scene and try to catch your breath. “I heard it’s a good movie. Plus, I like horror. Didn’t you know that?”

“I do, I mean… you’re always up for it whenever I suggest watching one. You just scream a lot. I guess you could like something and not enjoy it all the time.”

“I enjoy it though,” you correct him. “Getting scared and stressed and yelling is all part of the fun. Just like how in rom-coms, the frustration over the two leads being dumb is part of the experience. You take it all and that makes everything so satisfying.”

Jungkook merely nods in agreement but lingers on what you just said. The more he spends time with you, the more he learns how contradictory you are as a person, which is something he admires so much about you.

As a professional, you’re intellectual and decisive. You’re passionate and intentional and every single thing has a purpose or meaning for you. Outside of that, you feel intensely, whatever it is - fear, joy, wonder, anger, but you take them as part of a whole. You’re clumsy and disorganized sometimes. You’re affectionate and transparent yet there’s always something more that you feel and want, something that he’s unsure you’ve figured out yet.

And as he sneaks a glance at your wide eyes and anxious face over the next scene, he can’t help but smile at how open you are to feeling what’s out there for you. It’s quite captivating to watch, as he’s one who prefers to feel things more moderately, and perhaps it’s why it took this long for his feelings for you to develop.

His thoughts are disrupted with your gasp, followed by milder curses than he expected, and then another shriek. He focuses on the movie now, as he’s sure you’re gonna wanna talk about it after, and it ends with your deep exhale and your satisfied smile.

“That was good,” you say, as you grab a can of beer from your fridge and hand him one.

You rehash the whole two hours while you sit next to him on the couch then conclude that you’re still a little creeped out so you state you want to watch something else.

“The Thai movie about the grandmother,” you say, choosing from the long list of things you had him download.

“Are you sure?” He cocks an eyebrow.

“Yes, I heard it’s good, too,” you shrug, already getting comfortable.

“Okay, then.”

As it turns out, it’s as emotional as it is good. And you can’t stop the tears as they waterfall down your face, to the point that you can barely breathe through your nose. You, in fact, wail, and you can hear Jungkook stop himself from laughing, even if despite your glassy eyes, you can see him tear up as well.

“You can cry, you know?” You turn to him, prompting him to pause the film.

You’re sniffing and distorting your face and he chuckles in response.

“I was about to but you started sobbing. It felt like your tears were good enough for the both of us,” he hums.

“It’s sad,” you pout.

“I know, and you wanted this,” he points out. “But hey, part of the experience, right?”

You nod because it’s true. You’d rather watch comedy dramas that make you hurt so good or horror movies that make you jump off your seat over ones that barely make you feel anything at all. But you suppose that’s how you’ve always lived your life.

People think you’re driven by logic and ideas all the time but you surprise yourself with how much you feel and how much that motivates you. But then again, that’s exactly why you’re in the field you’re in, and not everybody gets to understand or even see that.

Your tears remain and Jungkook scoots closer to wipe them off your cheeks with his paw sweaters. You meet his worried doe-eyes and you didn’t realize how innocent-looking yet expressive they are. You suddenly hiccup and he playfully shakes his head in response.

“I wanna laugh now,” you mumble.

“We’re going through the emotions of the wheel now, aren’t we?” Jungkook chuckles while proceeding to check his movie list again. “I’ve got–”

“What if we just watch Running Man reruns? I kinda don’t wanna be invested in characters again but I just don't wanna be sad anymore.”

“Then we go with that,” he nods. “And… uh, do you have anything I could cook for dinner?”

You check the time and realize it’s almost 7 PM. You had lunch out with Hayoung earlier then started your movie marathon with Jungkook when you got home. You’ve been with him for hours and it feels like time is flying.

“Ramen?”

“Sure, I can get two packs ready,” he hums, standing up to find his way around your tiny kitchen.

“I’ll also order pizza because I’m craving. What about chicken?”

“Hey, as long as it’s good food, I’m all in.”

As it turns out, eating Jungkook’s creamy ramen, then some pizza, and then some chicken wings over beer while laughing your bellies off is incredibly satisfying. You’re in tears for half of it because not only is the show funny, but so are Jungkook’s ridiculous side comments and imitation of the hosts and guests. You have to beg him to stop and let you breathe.

This is one of the most unhinged you’d seen him and you don’t care one bit that you’re snorting in laughter or close to drooling at this point. Once you calm down, you stretch your legs on the floor where you’ve been since you started dinner, and you breathe deeply.

“I needed this,” you smile then turn to look at him. “I needed to laugh and just… be comfortable.”

“Why? Work bugging you down? Pilates not yet working?”

“Work is always stressful and I’ve accepted that. Pilates is something I’m still getting used to but it helped that one day I needed to relax,” you say. “But I guess I just needed to laugh and cry and stuff myself with good food and not worry about the next day or something. Thanks for coming over with your movie library and watching and eating with me, Kook. It was fun.”

“Glad I could help you with having a worry-free day like this,” he replies. “And honestly, it feels good to just do whatever you want and not really have plans. It’s why I spend my weekends the way I do.”

“So it feels good being with me, then?” you smirk.

“Of course. You’re a little chaotic sometimes,” he teases. “But it’s part of the fun. I get to let loose and watch you be a weirdo.”

“Well I’m glad,” you softly smile this time. “You’re a little weird sometimes, too. I get to enjoy myself a little bit more when I’m around you. I mean, I say that about the other guys as well but I guess we haven’t spent as much time together.”

“We do now.”

“I know. And it’s fun. I hope you don’t get sick of me yet.”

He could tease you and say he already is, but he doesn’t want to lie to you like that. He doesn’t want you to think that even a tiny part of him would prefer not having you around.

The truth is, he’s been finding it harder to let a day pass without speaking to you, and he reminds himself to do things gradually and naturally despite the fear that you’d freak out and think of him differently just because he’s treating you differently.

“Just keep being that way and I won’t,” he says instead.

“Hmm. That’s a relief. I will, then.”

Jungkook sees you again the next Wednesday after Jimin messaged to ask who was free for dinner and drinks after work. A few from the group made it, including you, and even if Jungkook was a few seats away, just knowing you were okay and enjoying Pilates and eating well was enough to appease him.

He sees you again on Saturday for a late celebration of Hoseok’s birthday where you hog the mic during karaoke despite being tone deaf and unable to hold a note. Jungkook tries to remember all the times this had happened before and if he had found you as endearing as he finds you now.

He tries to make sure you’re okay the next day, and he ends up grabbing you some hangover soup and drinks just to get rid of the headache. You sleep for pretty much the whole day but those two hours with you was enough to get him through the week.

You’re off to a work trip overseas over the next weekend so Jungkook decides to preoccupy himself with a full day of gaming and probably an evening swim. But then Taehyung comes over to hang out and with his friend leaving in a few months, Jungkook welcomes the company.

Jimin joins for lunch then leaves for a shoot. Mo-eum drops by then leaves as well for a family dinner.

It’s during the second half of the FIFA game they’re playing when Jungkook’s phone beeps. A small smile forms on his face when he glances at your multiple messages, perhaps to rant about the food like you did last night, or to say that the bugs were biting you again, or maybe to talk about some research project you came up with while taking a shit - because yes, it apparently happens.

He hopes Taehyung doesn’t notice but his friend is quite observant, so he does.

“Is ___ doing okay?”

Jungkook misses a free kick at the sound of your name.

“What?”

Taehyung gestures towards the beeping phone.

“___. That’s her, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” Jungkook hums as he finally checks your messages and learns that yes, it’s the food.

You also got a papercut and he can imagine you whining about it.

“She’s just… you know, talking about the conference she’s attending,” Jungkook continues as he sends replies of memes and questions of how it’s going and if the annoying guy from yesterday is still bugging you.

“Hmm, I see,” Taehyung hums as he attempts a kick. “I was with her last week, right? She had that charity event she asked me to attend with her. We had dinner after and she was laughing while texting someone. It was you.”

“Oh, right.”

Jungkook instantly remembers what both of you were talking about then.

“I was just telling her this vacation story of one of the teachers. It was funny.”

“Wow, how trivial. And to think you don’t even reply to me,” Taehyung chides.

“It’s because you prefer to call me! Or randomly show up at my door just like you did today,” Jungkook counters.

“Because you literally don’t reply!”

Jungkook just shrugs and focuses on the match, hoping his friend would just drop it. Instead, he pauses the game.

“Okay, Kook. I’m gonna ask you a question and you gotta answer me honestly. Just remember that you’re a terrible liar.”

Jungkook groans in response. “What?”

“Do you… like ___?”

Jungkook could easily deny it, but he also knows that he is a terrible liar and Taehyung would figure it out anyway. So he answers after a few seconds and understates the truth.

“I… I guess there’s something more.”

“It’s a yes or a no.”

There’s another beat of silence, as Jungkook is nervous about verbalizing something he’s been keeping to himself for months.

“I mean, between shopping with her, downloading her movies, driving her around… it should be clear, right?” Taehyung presses further.

“Hey, I do those things for you,” Jungkook tries to defend himself as he feels like he’s being called out.

“Yah! Do you think I’m stupid? Do you steal glances at me, too?”

“No.”

“Exactly, but you do it with her. And you let her squish your cheeks and you hate it when we do it.”

“She’s always been much gentler,” Jungkook reasons.

“She rarely is but sure,” Taehyung chuckles. “So, you really do like her, huh?”

“It’s something that just happened,” Jungkook sighs, knowing there’s no point in hiding anymore. “I don’t even know how. I mean, we’ve been good friends for years, Tae. We’ve seen each other’s highs and lows. We’ve witnessed each other’s relationships and breakups, and we’ve just… always been around each other.”

Jungkook looks back at the days when it was all so simple, then suddenly being hit by a train from out of nowhere.

“There was no fuss, no drama, no expectations, no desire. Just friends,” he continues. “And then one day it was like… suddenly she looked so cute whenever she complained or pouted. And then it was fun just watching her tell stories and be weird and be smart. And then it felt nice when she would do something nice for me. And then I liked how she looked whenever I did something nice for her. And then… and then she stood up for me to my ex then hugged me later that night and I haven’t stopped thinking about her since then.”

“So it started that night, huh?” Taehyung smiles. “Was it seeing her angry and defending you?”

“Yeah… and then seeing her be so gentle after that,” Jungkook hums. “It’s how she’s always been - intense, loyal, caring. I guess I’ve always admired those things about her. I’ve always enjoyed having her around but that comfort, that familiarity, that desire for something a bit chaotic but also reassuring that I get with her, it just suddenly felt different. And I just wanted more of that, I guess.”

“Was it really all sudden, though?” Taehyung wonders. “I mean, how could something like her presence and her quirks and all these good things about her be there all these years and then just be different one day?”

“I was thinking about that because I couldn’t really figure out how I could just feel differently about her.”

“And?”

“I settled into her, I think that’s what it was.”

Jungkook has been pondering on it since movie night at your place. It’s like moving into a house then becoming familiar with it over time, and then it becomes comfortable, and then it becomes a home.

Sure, the floorboards creak and the faucet leaks sometimes and there’s a stain on the wall that won’t get off but it doesn’t matter, because he’s already settled in and he likes the place. He likes its flaws and wear and tears… It's all part of the experience. And friends are like that - there’s no changing or forcing anything. Friends kinda just adjust their way around each other over time and just fit together a certain way.

That’s how it was with you.

He tries to explain this and Taehyung nods, understanding what he means because all his friends feel like home, too.

“What was it like when it changed, then? When did it become more?” He asks.

“When I realized that, hey, I think I wanna hold hands in this home, too. I wanna kiss and cuddle and get to know every inch of it. I… I wanna stay here. Something like that.”

Jungkook smiles, thinking back to that night you hugged him after a tough night. And how every time you’d done it since then made him want you to do it again.

He thinks back to the moments these past months of your hands or arms brushing, and him wondering what it’s like to intertwine his fingers with yours. Maybe have you touch his cheeks again but look deeply into his eyes this time.

Taehyung feels comforted by his friend being able to express his feelings like this, something he’s never really been that comfortable doing before.

Jungkook feels deeply, but he’s a bit more reserved than most of their friends. He tends to express whatever he feels by being dependable, by being someone they could be around and not feel judged, by being encouraging in his quiet way. Even in his past relationships, Jungkook just seemed to suppress what he felt - whether it was love or affection or hurt or anger. To be able to articulate all that he feels for you in this way is quite special. Maybe you’re rubbing off on him.

“Hmm. Sounds like a couple we know. And they’re getting married in a few months,” Taehyung smiles now.

“I’m not even thinking about that far into the future,” Jungkook frowns.

“I know but that’s not the point,” Taehyung corrects. “I just meant that it happens, Kook. That’s how some love stories go. Just like with my brother. He and Hayoung got along so well that we just kept secretly waiting for them to finally get together. And they did, seven years after they met. Because that friendship just naturally became deeper and blossomed into something more. I mean, it’s a natural thing. Like you said, you just learn to… settle into someone. You gravitate towards them, feel like they’re a person you can tuck yourself in and just be comfortable with and that’s such a beautiful feeling. I’ve witnessed it with them and I’m witnessing it with you, too.”

“Is that how you knew?” Jungkook chuckles as he shakes his head, unsure if his friend is just that perceptive or if he’s that transparent. “Because you’ve seen it happen with your brother?”

“Sort of,” Taehyung hums. “But I’m close to her, Kook. And I know how I am with her. I’m fond of her, I’m amazed by her, I want to take care of her, but she also drives me crazy sometimes. In a very sibling-like way because that’s how I treat her. That’s how I see her. I saw how you took care of her during the flight to Japan. I saw how you smiled every time she did. Even when she was being a brat, you just… wanted to be there for her. And it’s different from how Jimin or I treat her.”

Jungkook nods, thinking now that perhaps those times in Sapporo when his friend looked at both of you smiling, left you alone together, or even had him give you a piggyback ride was Taehyung’s way of figuring it out. But another thought alerts Jungkook.

“Shit. Do you think he knows? Or maybe Mo-eum?”

“They haven’t said anything. But then again, you and ___ have kinda been treating each other the same way. I think I’m just noticing the subtle differences because I’ve been away for a while. And well, since I’m leaving again I'm a little bit more sentimental,” Taehyung laughs. “Why, don’t you want them to know?”

“Not yet,” Jungkook shakes his head.

“Why not?”

“Because they might tell me to keep off or run for the hills.”

“Or tell you to get your head out of your ass and do something about it,” Taehyung exclaims.

“They could, and I’m not sure if I’m ready for any of that. I.. I want her to settle into me. Naturally.”

“I get that, but this is the same girl who meets someone and then gets attracted to them right away. Just saying,” Taehyung warns.

You’ve always said you tend to act on your intense feelings immediately. It’s true that at any point, you could serendipitously meet someone and then pursue them the next day.

“___ is used to a life where things are clear to her, including the people in them,” Taehyung continues. “She’s always been honest about her intentions with others and doesn’t compromise who she is with them, and we all like that about her. You might wanna just let things happen because you don’t wanna rush or pressure her and I get that but a little nudge won’t hurt.”

“How do I do that?”

“Be intentional, I guess. Act on what you feel but gently, gradually,” Taehyung advises. “Put feelers out and see how she thinks about friendships and relationships and whatnot.”

“I guess I kinda have been… unknowingly,” Jungkook shakes his head. “We’ve been having tons of conversations about how we dealt with our relationships and how we go about them.”

“And?”

“You know how we used to tease her with Namjoon?”

“Yeah, and she said that helpless clumsy people will burn the house down and so it was never gonna happen,” Taehyung laughs.

“There’s that. But she also wonders how someone could just one day decide to like a friend they’ve known for years. It’s a normal thing like you said but I guess it’s just not how she approaches relationships,” Jungkook says. “And there’s nothing wrong about that. It’s just… how do I make her see me as something more?”

“Show her that you could be? How would she know if you’re a home she wants to cuddle and kiss and hold hands in if you don’t show that potential?” Taehyung points out. “You don’t have to impress her or treat her so differently all of a sudden. Just be natural but know that you’ll have to be assertive when the time comes.”

“That is the most confusing thing but I guess that works” Jungkook sighs. “So… should I pick her up from the airport tomorrow, then?”

Jungkook picks you up from the airport on Sunday. Your conference wrapped up in the morning but your flight was delayed and you’ve been irritable since then, given that you weren’t able to eat a decent lunch.

You were texting with him last night and he kindly offered to give you a ride, reminding you that he likes long drives so it’s not a bother. You couldn’t say no, especially since an hour-long trip is much better having him to just talk with, something you’ve been enjoying a lot recently.

Jungkook was never really the texting type, that much you knew. He barely replies in group chats and the rare times you would message each other in the past was about random, shallow things. It wasn’t until a few months ago when you started texting more frequently, and your conversations go from mundane to deep, and you appreciate them equally.

Outside of that, you’ve been spending more time together, too, and you like that as well. He’s just a calming person to be around, very chill and laid-back, and you suppose it’s what you’ve been needing.

You know that he’s a reserved guy, often quiet and not very expressive compared to your other friends, unless he’s teasing you. He’s the kind to not let things bother him easily but also just does whatever he likes as long as he doesn't get in anyone's way.

You suppose that’s one reason why you were always closer to Jimin and Taehyung - they’re uninhibited and a little crazy like you, always going off about something together, narrating things animatedly, and being dramatic about everything. Jungkook, alongside Mo-eum, would just sit around and watch the three of you do all of that, and then take care of any one of you when needed.

While you still do most of those, you suppose that over time, you’ve all mellowed down a little bit. Over time, you’ve needed something else - a presence to calm you down and to contrast your often frenzied and chaotic state, a kind of energy that balances you out and grounds you.

Jungkook has been that for you recently. He listens to you rant about everything. He reassures you about your thoughts but also offers a different perspective. He makes you laugh and teases you comfortably. He shows up when you need him and he takes care of you like it’s second nature.

You know that’s the kind of person he’s always been. You don’t know though if you’ve just taken it for granted all these years because of that; you don’t really remember appreciating or even depending on him this way before. Perhaps it’s just time that’s passed and you grew up. Maybe at this point in your life, that’s the kind of person you need more of.

You smile at the thought as you watch Jungkook load your luggage in the trunk then head to the driver seat. He asks you about the delay and how the flight was. You say it was fine but that you only got to eat a sandwich at the airport and now you’re hungry, which makes it worse because you didn’t even enjoy the food at the conference.

“Was it really that bad?” He asks.

“For some reason, everything was spicy,” you frown. “And those that weren’t were just too intense and I just wanted something familiar. And delicious. Tae was sending photos of your suyuk from last night and I got so jealous. He said it was really, really good.”

“Oh. Do you want that, then?” Jungkook asks. “It’s not hard to make.”

“Wha–? Are you serious?” You look at him with puppy eyes, although this shouldn’t really be surprising anymore.

“Yeah. We’ll just get back to Seoul late afternoon and then pass by the supermarket for the ingredients. Can you wait until then?”

“I could. I mean, I heard it’s a life-changing dish,” you wink.

“Well, Taehyung’s an easily satisfied guy but I think it’s one of the best things I’ve made, too,” he chuckles. “Not sure about it being life-changing but you can maybe tell me later.”

“I’m sure it’ll be, since I’ll be very hungry by then,” you laugh. “But we could also just eat at a restaurant or something.”

He cocks an eyebrow, knowing that when you set your mind on a certain dish, you need to have it. The fact that you brought it up is a hint that it’s what you really want and Jungkook won’t say no.

He’s unsure if this counts as making a move on you but at this point, he’ll take whatever chance he can get to show you he cares and wants to make you happy. And that maybe, let you know in the most subtle way that something’s changed on his end without freaking you out.

“Fine, I know you know I really want to try it,” you giggle at having been caught.

You suppose he’s familiar with your antics at this point.

“I do,” he playfully shakes his head. “And it’s fine, really. I don’t mind doing things for you.”

“Hmm. That means you aren’t sick of me yet!”

“Don’t think I will anytime soon.”

Jungkook says it with certainty, and not in a teasing or even shy manner the way you’d expect. But you don’t think about it much. You’re just glad your constant presence hasn’t been a bother to him.

You spend the ride talking about how your respective weeks have been. You’re in your neighborhood before you know it, and he’s stopping by a supermarket and getting the ingredients while you message your friends about having dinner at Jungkook’s place. The three of them quickly reply they’ll be on their way, with Taehyung offering to pick them up.

You watch Jungkook do his magic while you wait for them to arrive, and you’re amazed when he says that he just watched a video on it online then went by feeling when he made it himself. You’re left in awe; you know your clueless ass could never.

Your friends arrive not long after, all of whom are just as excited to eat Jungkook’s dish, even if Taehyung just had it last night. He hypes it up and Jungkook calls him out for setting the expectations too high. He doesn’t want to disappoint you, he says.

Sitting next to him, you take your first bite. And your friend is right. This is incredibly delicious; you seriously don’t think any other version could top this.

You pinch the corners of your eyes in response, expressing dramatically - as you always do - how good it is. You take another bite with the kimchi, and given the unsatisfying dishes you’ve had the past three days, this quite literally tastes like heaven.

You reflexively lean on Jungkook’s shoulder as you close your eyes and savor it.

“Fuck, Kook. This is insane,” you moan.

“Yeah, well you haven’t even eaten it properly yet,” he hums. “Here.”

You turn to him and find him trying to feed you the pork wrapped in lettuce with rice and kimchi. You open your mouth and it’s even more delicious. This tastes like home, and in a way you didn’t expect.

You curse under your breath again, like Jimin is, while Taehyung and Mo-eum quietly enjoy it.

“It always amused me how Kook is the baby of the group but he never acted like it,” Mo-eum points out.

“Yeah, it was always me,” you chuckle.

“Debatable. Tae’s the baby. You’re the princess,” Jimin corrects.

“I agree,” Jungkook hums. “But we never minded, just so you know. At least, I never did.”

He says the last part softly, you’re probably the only one who hears it. Between his assuring words and this dinner he made, there’s not much you can do, so you prepare a portion of the meat with rice and side dishes, too, and offer to feed him.

He hesitates only briefly but lets you do as you wish. Your fingers graze his face and he feels the shiver on his skin.

“My thank you ssam,” you smile, and Jungkook praises you for making it well-balanced because that’s the only harmless thing he can really say.

You spend the next two hours the way you usually do when you’re together, until Mo-eum yawns and says she’ll go ahead because her three straight 12-hour night shifts are getting to her. She just wanted to see you so she came, even if you have your usual post-work dinners on Wednesdays. Tuesdays are reserved for Jimin while Taehyung usually just messages you whenever. Jungkook, you realize, has become a staple of your weekends.

Taehyung then offers to take Mo-eum home, then drags Jimin along because they need to buy something.

“What about ___?” Mo-eum asks.

“She’s out of the way,” Taehyung answers. “Plus, she craved this so she’ll help Jungkook clean up, right?” He continues, smiling sweetly at you.

“Of course I will,” you answer.

You bid them goodbye then start clearing the table of the dirty dishes.

“___, you don’t have to,” Jungkook says, taking them from you.

“This has always been my task,” you pout. “Plus, this is all I can do. You always do so much for me.”

You don’t wait for him to respond and proceed to washing the dishes. He stands next to you though and you continue talking, up until he drives you home then messages you good night.

You end up seeing Jungkook pretty much every week after that, whether it’s because of a get-together - like karaoke night on Friday after work, or a special event - such as the screening of the movie that Yoongi composed the music for.

You see him on your own, too, like on nights when you crave something after work, when there’s a movie you ask him to download that he watches with you, when you have an errand to do that you don’t feel like doing alone, or to cheer for his high school taekwondo team, just like you promised.

He’s always willing to join you even if he’s got things going on himself. He just says he doesn’t mind and deep down, you’re glad that he truly hasn’t gotten sick of you yet, given your tendencies to whine about things and complain about your work despite how much you love it.

Jungkook shares a lot more about himself, too. Not that he never did but you notice him being more open and comfortable about things he worries about - like how his students will grow up to be and if he’s being a good role model to them. There’s the occasional mention of wondering if he’ll be a good enough partner to whoever he’ll end up with after you open up a bit more about your past relationships.

It’s always stuck with you how he says that being with someone means that you witness the birth of a different person every time and then celebrating that. It strikes you because you feel like somewhere along the way, even you failed to do that yourself - accept how you’ve changed then embracing it. But he says he’s also learning, and that being with someone means you learn together.

It’s those conversations that have you appreciating your time with him even more. He’s there when there’s chaos in your mind, and even more so when it’s around you.

It’s near the end of April when you find yourself in Mo-eum’s apartment with Jimin, getting ready for your college reunion party. It feels like it’s been a while since you dolled up for something like this. Mo-eum, like you, only does it when there’s a special event. For Jimin, this is a norm in his line of work.

Your best friend eyes your outfit, fixes your dress, then suggests a bolder lipstick color.

“It’ll work with the guys,” he smirks.

“I’m not trying to get anyone’s attention, just to remind you,” you say, even if you go with the red that he hands you. “It’s a party and I’ll drink, watch people get shit faced, and then bury myself in the covers at night then lay in bed all day tomorrow.”

“You’re getting old,” he teases.

“You’re gonna feel the effects of all this partying at one point,” you reply.

“Nah, I’ve got energy. I keep myself in shape, you know?”

You throw your pillow at him at the dig, but you do point out that you still do your Pilates session every week and that’s helped with your energy, amongst other things.

“Plus, who’ll it work on? The guests are literally the same people from college. No one’s gonna go for me after all these years and vice versa,” you add.

“You have such a narrow and simplistic way of looking at things sometimes, you know that?” Jimin shakes his head at you. “You think that attraction is only immediate and a one-time thing, as if it doesn’t develop overtime or something.”

“Well, if it wasn’t there at the start, then it won’t be there later on,” you shrug.

“You only think that way because all your relationships have been that way,” Mo-eum says.

“Yeah, and they all ended right away,” Jimin points out.

“Ouch,” you say with no real bite, not like it’s something you haven’t thought about anyway.

“You want the feeling to smack you in the face at first glance,” Mo-eum adds, earning a nod from you because that’s true. “But it could also smack you years later, when you least expect it. Isn’t that intense and genuine, too?”

“Yeah, imagine one day realizing you like that cute ops guy at work that you have lunch with who’s so chill and unproblematic,” Jimin says. “Or your neighbor from childhood that you still talk with sometimes. Maybe Namjoon? He can already make ramen and you know how to slice fruits now. Who knows, it could be Tae. Or even Kook!”

“Jimin, I’m gonna hold your hand when I say this,” you sigh. “I don’t really see myself liking my friends in that way. Things that are good and comfortable don’t need to be disrupted.”

“___, I’m gonna hold your hand when I say this, too,” he counters. “You can. You only think otherwise because as much as you feel things, you don’t really pay attention to them. For you, things and people that are new are the only ones worth giving a shot because that’s what you’re used to. And I say this in the most loving way - I really think that the one who can truly handle all of you is someone who’s known you for years.”

You’re not offended, but it does intrigue you. So you ask what he means.

“You’re a lot of amazing things but that doesn’t mean every new guy you date sees that,” Jimin explains. “And I know you never said it directly but you always worried that your exes wouldn’t understand you, and so there were parts of you that you didn’t really wanna show them.”

You think about your best friend’s words and you agree. You weren’t the type who spent less time with your friends when you were in a relationship, and you always thought that meant you maintained your independence and social circles outside of your partner. Deep down, a part of you felt that there were aspects of your life you wanted to keep separate from the men you dated - your friends, your dreams, your bare and unfiltered self.

With Jeong-su, you were the passionate student leader who was so sure of herself. So on the days when you were stressing about school or life in general, you ran to your friends and not him. You suppose that’s where all the fights about not making time for him stemmed from.

It was similar with Seungho, as you were the independent and confident woman who worked hard for what she wanted in his eyes, and you felt like you had to keep that image up even if you had bouts of doubt or insecurity. He was aloof and wasn’t the type to spoil you. It was his lack of compassion that really bothered you, and you never really sought him for comfort.

There were many things that attracted you to them, but ultimately they faded away. During those years, you were focused on building yourself and your career, and they helped you in a way, because they were also attracted to that side of you - ambitious, polished, uncompromising.

But once you became in tune with the more human and flawed, unfiltered parts of yourself, you pushed them away, perhaps fearing they wouldn’t understand. Or that they wouldn’t want to deal with that side of you at all.

Maybe that’s what Jimin meant about you not paying attention to your feelings. You focused on how they made you feel, and not on what you felt about them, nor about how you felt about yourself because of them. As you grow up, you realize they’re not the same.

“What does knowing someone for a long time have anything to do with this?” You try to deflect. “You can know someone for years and still be surprised by who they are once you learn more.”

“They’re not afraid of you,” Jimin responds. “They don’t want to tame nor fit you into an idea they have of you because they already know the many versions of who you are. They’ve… they’ve learned how to exist alongside you and have fun along the way. I think that makes the difference.”

“And what does paying attention to how I feel even really mean?” You wonder out loud, as you process more of what he says.

“It means actually thinking about them, you know?” Jimin hums. “Like, giving yourself time to understand what you’re feeling, independently of what they do or say to you. You’ve always gone with your heart and we love that about you but the intense, genuine emotions that you want actually take time. I think it’s something you’ll figure out right away. It’ll be different from how it used to feel.”

“Okay, love guru,” Mo-eum chuckles. “Where’s all this coming from?”

“I listen to this podcast that talks about grown up stuff like relationships and I’ve picked things up,” Jimin shrugs. “But also I think I have a good read of people. I had a vibe with Seokjin and Hayoung long before they got together.”

“Is that why you keep pushing for Yoongi and Gyu-rim? Because you have a vibe about them?” You ask.

“Yes. And I just really think they like each other but they don’t know it yet.”

“Hmm. Interesting. And what about Mo-eum and Tae?”

“I asked her about it before but she didn’t answer me,” Jimin responds, triggering your other friend’s memory about that time.

It turns out he was right about that, too.

“And now I’ll ask you,” Jimin turns to you.

“Look, the Namjoon ship sailed a long time ago. You know how I feel about that,” you explain.

“I wasn’t referring to him,” Jimin shakes his head. “I was gonna ask about Kook.”

“Oh,” you and Mo-eum say at the same time.

Jimin watches your face distort, going from processing to wondering to somehow lost, and he chuckles in response.

“You know what, never mind. I’ll leave that for you to think about,” he smiles instead. “Anyway, come on. We have a party to go to.”

You get inside your booked car and decide to not think too much about what Jimin had asked you right before you left. Not that his question was completely out of left field because even you would say that you’ve been spending more time with Jungkook lately, but you suppose you hadn’t really thought much about what it could mean.

You can chalk it up to that unspoken promise from months ago about being better friends to each other, but maybe that’s a big part of it, too. Was it really just about that? Or have your efforts naturally progressed to mean something more?

You internally sigh at all these thoughts that your best friend unfortunately put in your head. Tonight’s not the time to be contemplating about this, not when you’ll be around people and around him.

And just as the reminder that Jungkook will be here crosses your mind, he just happens to be the first person you see right when you exit the car.

He greets familiar faces as you and your friends meet him and Taehyung in line to the Club before he turns to you with a smile.

“Hey!” Jungkook greets, going in for a hug like what you do every time you see each other.

He smells like cotton. It’s so fresh yet so manly.

“Hey,” you return, taking in how he looks. “So, uh, what happened to the white shirt?”

“Tae told me to ditch it. He said this was better,” Jungkook shrugs, eyeing his outfit of white tank top under a simple white jacket. He gestures towards your dress. “So, this was the nicer option,” he hums.

“Yeah,” you nod, remembering that unplanned afternoon of shopping when he let you drag him around the mall. “Is it alright?”

His lips turn up and he leans closer, as you near the entrance and the music gets louder.

“Yeah, you look pretty.”

Your smile is immediate and you’re surprised at how much that affects you. You’re pretty sure he’s called you pretty before, but maybe it has a lot to do with how he looks right now because if you’re being honest to yourself, he looks really good.

You finally enter the Club and get properly greeted by Taehyung, who gives you a tight hug the way he always does. You end up talking about his cameo in this one show and his guest appearance in Running Man, which you and Jungkook watched together the other day.

Once you make it to one of the cocktail tables, you greet your other friends from university and take shots with them to jumpstart the evening. You don’t really intend on drinking a lot tonight so you pace yourself and catch up with those you haven’t seen for years, including Jihyo, who introduces you to the co-owners of the Club.

It’s not really your favorite thing to do, as meeting people overwhelms you sometimes, but you go along with it. It’s still a night to dress up and kind of let loose, so that’s what you do, as you dance around with the ones you used to party a lot with once upon a time.

Taehyung is jumping from one group to another, and you never really knew how the theater kid ended up knowing a bunch of people from every faculty and department in your university. Jimin is with his course buddies whom he hangs out with frequently, and you spot Jungkook and Mo-eum in the same area they’ve been since you arrived, chatting and taking shots with people you recognize from their pre-med classes.

You finished university about six years ago and though it’s not too long ago, somehow seeing all these people you used to walk by in the halls, the library, or the clubs makes you feel like it is. There’s something about them that’s different than you remember, and it hits you just how much time can change many things - people, places… feelings, beliefs.

The initial exhilaration from seeing old friends again and letting loose quickly dies down as your energy starts getting drained and your legs begin to cramp up.

Despite your low block heels and not-too-tight dress, you still feel a little bit uncomfortable. It’s a much different experience than the last time, which you suddenly remember was months ago when Taehyung invited you all to a night out. That was when Jungkook’s ex showed up, and the memory prompts you to quickly search for him, irrationally thinking she might be here even if she doesn’t have a reason to be.

You spot him at the same cocktail table, chatting with some girls. You look around to look for either Jimin or Taehyung but a bunch of rowdy guys dance past you and bump you as you make your way towards one of the couches.

“Hey, you okay?”

You turn around and find Jungkook’s worried eyes looking at you.

“Yeah, I was just… trying to find a place to chill at,” you respond. “I’m a little tired.”

He gestures towards his earlier spot. “I’ve been saving that table all night.”

You follow his lead and get introduced to the girls he was speaking with earlier. They were members of the women’s swim team that he used to train with. They leave not long after you greet them, then you sit on the stool that Jungkook offers.

“Did you see Mo-eum on her way out?” He asks, leaning closer so you could hear him over the loud music.

“Yeah, Jimin and I walked her to Taehyung’s car. She has a shift tomorrow afternoon and she wanted to get some rest tonight,” you explain.

“Right, she did mention that,” he nods.

Jungkook offers you water as you talk about who you’ve been catching up with all night. You haven’t hung out with him much and you quickly feel at ease, reminiscing and giving updates on the other friends you’ve both been talking with.

It’s clear that at this point, people have had more to drink. There’s more screaming of the song lyrics, more cheering at the dance floor, and definitely more bumping from those drunkenly walking around.

Including this woman who gets bumped and falls to the ground, right next to Jungkook. She’s unfamiliar so she’s probably from another course you didn’t really interact with.

He gets over his surprise and quickly crouches down to help her up. She eventually does but instead of just saying her thanks and walking away, she lays her hands on his chest and dazedly smiles. The music is still loud but you hear what she says.

“Oh my god, you’re so hot,” she mumbles. “Can I dance with you? Just don’t tell my boyfriend. He’s right over there.”

She giggles and it’s clear she’s had a lot to drink. But Jungkook’s not the least bit interested, especially given that she’s not single. It’s obvious why that puts him in a sour mood.

Just as he’s letting her go and moving back, the said boyfriend makes his way towards where you’re sitting, and you get the feeling that things aren’t going to end well.

He calls out for the girl, saying he’s been looking for her, and she just had to make up a story that she’s been dancing with Jungkook, which clearly didn’t happen. This enrages the man who turns to Jungkook, yelling at him to keep off his girl.

Jungkook raises his arms, explaining that all he did was help her up after she fell but the man doesn’t listen. Surely by this time, he should be focused on ensuring his girlfriend is fine, but he seems quite drunk, too, so he probably isn’t thinking straight.

There’s a bit of commotion, as the girl starts whining. Taehyung, unknowing of what’s happening, sees the man walking closer to where you and Jungkook are, so he attempts to pull the man’s arm to get him away. That enrages him, too, so now he’s turning around and pulling on Taehyung’s shirt, which prompts Jungkook to now pull the man away from your friend.

Which ends badly, as the man tries to shove Jungkook away and ends up elbowing him in the face before he finally leaves you alone.

You shriek in response, shocked at the aggression and how fast everything happened.

You’re just behind Jungkook so you walk to face him and see that he’s busted his lip. He tries to use his white jacket to stop the bleeding, but you gently pull his hand away and place a napkin over it.

“How bad does it hurt?” You ask, trying to sound calm even if you’re boiling in anger.

All Jungkook did was try to help the girl, and though you’re unsure if she intended to deflect and place the blame on him instead, she still shouldn’t have taken advantage of the situation like that. And the man definitely didn’t need to be that aggressive and unwilling to listen.

“It stings pretty bad,” Jungkook responds, wincing in pain as he puts pressure on the cut.

This angers you even more, and you try to storm off with your clenched fist, pumped up with adrenaline that you think you could even do anything.

But Jungkook pulls you back before you could make another step.

“Hey, hey. Where are you going?”

By this time, people around you have dispersed. Taehyung followed the guy, perhaps to make sure he gets escorted out of the Club. It’s just you and Jungkook at the table now, and somehow he looks calmer than you do.

“Give that man a piece of my mind,” you grumble.

“With your fist?” He cocks an eyebrow.

“With my words first. And then my fist,” you answer.

He smiles at you, softly, perhaps knowing the way you do that that’s a stupid idea but that he appreciates the thought regardless.

“You know you don’t have to,” he says. “I’m okay. It’s just a busted lip.”

“I can’t believe he elbowed your face. You were just trying to help,” you scowl.

“I can’t believe some stranger elbowed my face before you ever did,” he chuckles, earning you an apology after you reprimand him for joking about something like this.

“Really, ___. I’m fine. The pain will go away soon,” he tries to assure you.

You take his word for it and are willing to let it go. It’s that same time that Taehyung and Jimin get to your table, asking Jungkook how he is. They say that the man has been brought out and they found the girl’s friends for her to go home with. They wanted to make sure she was safe and being taken care of.

“I’m okay,” Jungkook assures them, too. “I just need to ice it and find a pretty good pain reliever for this one.”

“I have some at home that Mo-eum gave me,” you say. “They’re really effective but they make you sleepy.”

“That should be good, yeah?” Jimin asks. “___, can you clean his wound and give him the meds? Jihyo asked us to help with managing the rowdy guests so we’ll stay a bit longer.”

“Yeah, of course,” you answer, turning to Jungkook who looks a bit apologetic.

“Take my car,” Taehyung offers. “I’ll get Mr. Yang to pick you up.”

“Thanks, Tae,” you tiredly smile, the adrenaline from earlier now gone and you’re just exhausted and upset.

“Alright. Take care of him, okay?” He gestures towards Jungkook.

“Yeah, it’s my turn to,” you say. “Take care of yourselves. Let us know when you’re home.”

Jimin and Taehyung nod in response so you and Jungkook start making your way out of the Club. You come across Jihyo, who apologizes for not managing the crowd better, but Jungkook waves her off, saying it could’ve been worse.

You both wait by the street for Taehyung’s chauffeur, who’s just coming back from dropping Mo-eum off at her apartment. You move closer to Jungkook to assess the cut, frowning at the memory from earlier. The scene plays in your head and you’re hit with that feeling of anger all over again.

Jungkook sees your face contort and he can tell you’re being worked up thinking about what happened.

“I never asked you if you got hit or something,” he disrupts your thoughts. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I… you, you were blocking him,” you say, recalling how Jungkook immediately stood in front of you, his hands signaling you to move so you’re not close to the man.

“He had a lot to drink and I was scared he’d do something to us.”

“Yeah well he did, to you,” you grumble.

“Like I said, it’s fine, ___,” he smiles now to try to convince you. “My lip could've split even more with how built he was but it’s not. I’ll survive.”

“Why are you so calm?” You question him, wondering if it’s always been in his nature to be like this.

And you remember that it is.

“If I’m not then who would be between us?” He chuckles.

You frown and bow your head because it’s true. He’s the one who’s hurt but you’re the one who seems to be so affected by it.

But it’s in your nature, too. It’s not like it’s the first time you’ve ever been angry at someone mistreating him.

“Hey, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make light of you being upset,” he mumbles, as he gently tilts your chin up to face him again.

“It’s just… I get his anger, okay?” He explains. “I’m not justifying his actions or anything. I mean, I wouldn’t react that way. And I… didn’t. I’m just saying that yes, he shouldn’t have been aggressive but seeing your partner do something like that gets to you and you end up… doing unpleasant things. Plus, he had been drinking so that made things worse but I’m not mad at him. I’m not mad at anyone.”

His words hit you, as you can imagine that the moment the woman mentioned she had a boyfriend after trying to flirt with him, thoughts swirled in Jungkook’s mind at what probably happened that night when his ex cheated on him. You saw his face fall then, and it angers you all over again at the thought that he experienced all that before and now some stranger tried to make him the other guy because his woman got caught.

Jungkook sees you clench your jaw, seemingly controlling your emotions. It’s not just anger this time. It seems like there’s something more.

“Hey, hey,” he says softly. “What else is bothering you?”

“People are just so mean,” you huff, close to tears at the overwhelming emotions. “And they’re mean to you. You don’t deserve any of that.”

And with your words, Jungkook knows - you’re not just talking about tonight.

He pulls you close to hug you, knowing that this is who you are. You feel things intensely, and while he’s not the type to do that, you’re doing it for him, and that comforts him somehow.

He feels you slowly wrap your arms around him and sigh into his chest, as if this is helping you calm down. He also knows that letting you take care of him is one other way to do that.

He pulls away and tilts your chin to face him again.

“I know I don’t, so thanks for reminding me,” he says. “I guess I just easily accept bad things that happen to me because there's not much I can do about other people’s actions but that doesn’t mean I don’t get to feel upset. I don’t want them to win and they will if I put myself down because of it.”

You nod, understanding what he means.

And he’s right. At least you get to be the one who’s mad about it. You get to expend that negative energy towards those mean people and let them feel even a tiny bit of it in one way or another.

“I’ll let you treat my cut and I’ll take the meds, yeah?”

“Sounds good,” you say, amazed at how he’s the one who’s still able to pacify you when he’s the one who’s hurt.

You wait a few minutes more with him until the car arrives.

The ride to your apartment is quiet. You spend most of it looking out the window, occasionally turning towards him where he meets your gaze once he senses you’re looking at him. He gives you an assuring smile and you return it, as if to say that you just want to make sure he’s okay.

You instruct him to take a seat once he enters your place and you immediately give him the pain reliever. You hand him a cloth-wrapped cube of ice to soothe the cut, which has thankfully stopped bleeding. But you see the blood stains on his jacket sleeves and offer to soak it so they don’t stick.

You leave him to prepare a vinegar solution that you search online then return to your dining room. He’s already rid himself of his jacket, and he sits there with his tattooed arm holding up the ice to his wound, wincing at the sting. That man was big, and you’re thankful that his elbow didn’t slice Jungkook’s lip completely open because that definitely could’ve happened.

“How’s it looking?” He asks, as he shows it to you.

“Still a bit swollen,” you sigh. “How do you feel?”

“Meds are starting to work,” he yawns.

“And what do you have to do next?” You ask, remembering that he’s a PE teacher and he definitely knows about cut treatment more than you do.

“Just rinse and make sure I don’t irritate it.”

“Sounds pretty simple,” you nod. “It really could’ve been worse,” you shake your head.

“Yeah, he could’ve elbowed my nose instead. Imagine that,” he chuckles, knowing how protective you are of it, even if he really doesn’t know if you mean it or just say it to tease him.

“If he did, I really would’ve gone to him and smacked him or something,” you frown. “Nobody messes with that cute nose, I swear.”

“I appreciate how it’s worthy of your protection,” he smiles, yawning again.

You note his glazed eyes and think of how tired he must be right now. It’s been a long night and you want him to just rest and feel better in the morning.

“Just stay the night, Kook,” you offer. “You can wash up and go straight to sleep. I’ll set up the sofa bed.”

Jungkook looks softly at you. You’ve been everything he’s needed all night. Even if he was barely with you, he kept glancing to where you were to see if you were enjoying yourself. And of course because you looked really pretty in the white halter dress that he just wanted to see more, and he’s glad he got to tell you that early on.

But once he started to get tired from all the socializing, there you were. Both of you got to talking and he immediately felt at ease. And while that woman and her boyfriend disrupted his night, they didn’t completely ruin it, not when he gets to be with you at the end of it.

Sure, he hopes he didn’t have a busted lip but him getting hurt is much better than you experiencing even a fraction of what he did.

So yeah, it’s not all bad. He gets to sleep knowing you’re around him again and that you’ll be there in the morning.

“Alright,” he smiles. “I’ll get myself cleaned, then.”

Just like before, you give him a towel and clothes to use. The spare toothbrush from last time is still there, you say, and he feels giddy knowing you hadn’t thrown it away.

You set up the sofa bed in time and give him something to further soothe his lip. You leave a glass of water on the coffee table, too.

He’s asleep by the time you finish taking your shower. The cold compress lays loosely on his hand so you kneel next to him and take that away.

He looks tired as his mouth is slightly opened and he breathes heavily. But still, he looks peaceful and that assures you.

He was never the type to be doted on, especially since he’s always managed to get things done on his own. Most times he doesn’t even ask for help, instead looking out for others who need him. You know this, but he also knows of your tendencies to panic and your need to know for certain that he’s okay. Perhaps that’s why he agreed to stay.

You walk towards your bed but decide to look back, as Jimin’s words from earlier ring in your head. Leaning on your wall, you gaze at Jungkook and try to understand what you’ve felt this whole evening.

There was that sense of protectiveness earlier. He’s a good person who deserves good things, and whether it’s because of someone he cared about or a complete stranger, he gets hurt in the end, even if he was just trying to love and trying to help.

You’ve always been protective of your friends but there was a different type of intensity when it came to Jungkook. You felt helpless but you also desperately wanted him to know that you were gonna stand up for him regardless of what it meant for you.

As you look at him tonight, it’s a similar feeling, just a bit more mellow. You want to protect him in whatever way you can. You want to see him enjoying life. You want him to know he’s cared for, that someone looks forward to his laughter and his presence, that he makes someone’s day bearable and fun.

And as you lay in bed, you think about what else you’re feeling and it hits you. You want to wrap your arms around him and make him feel comfortable, like there’s a place for him to breathe and be himself. Because that’s how he’s been making you feel recently, and there’s no denying that anymore.

Jungkook is still asleep when you wake up the next day. You both slept through the morning and you’ve gotten hungry, so you search for the things he’s allowed to eat and decide on getting some cold noodles and milkshakes delivered.

You reply to your friends’ messages about how he’s doing, and Mo-eum recommends that he just rest since based on your account, he got knocked pretty hard so that might still have an effect on him.

You’re putting his soaked jacket inside your laundry machine when you hear Jungkook grunting awake from his sleep. You head to him immediately and ask him how he’s feeling.

“I feel fine,” he hums, rubbing his eyes as he gets used to the early afternoon light. “That pain reliever knocked me out good. I needed that sleep.”

“That’s good to hear,” you nod. “I got us food delivered so just wait a while. I’m getting your jacket washed, too, if that’s fine.”

“Sure. I can also just come back for it so you don’t feel rushed.”

“Okay,” you answer. “I was worried about you last night. I know you know how I get so if you stayed to appease me, I appreciate it, Kook.”

“What if I also just wanted to spend more time with you, would that have been okay?” He asks, catching you off guard.

He’s cheeky sometimes, but you don’t recall him being this bold. Your heart does a weird thing. You’re not actually sure if it’s stopped or if it’s just fluttering too hard that you don’t feel it.

Maybe it’s the way he said it with his low, gravelly voice. Maybe you're just overthinking what Jimin had said and now you’re putting meaning into everything. The last thing you want is to convince yourself that something’s there when there isn’t, just because your best friend assumed that there was.

Your face might have made a dozen different expressions again because before you can answer, he’s already chuckling at you and standing up, seemingly not interested - or perhaps just impatient - in what you have to say.

“I’ll just wash my face,” he says.

Jungkook faces the mirror and scolds himself. What he said was way too bold than what you’re used to, even if it’s the truth. He truly could’ve managed on his own, even if he probably would’ve sleepily dragged himself up to his apartment last night.

But he stayed because he knew you’d be worrying. And he wanted to bask in that feeling, even if he fell asleep right away. But being here, seeing you first thing in the morning, and spending a few more hours with you - those are things he wants to do, too.

He recalls what he told Taehyung he’d do about his feelings for you. He’ll probably drop hints or be a little more forward, but he doesn’t want to overdo it nor be too different for fear of scaring you. Or worse, pressuring you. You’ll most likely tell him off.

He wants you to settle into him, like he’d said. He wants you to just feel your way around him until you’re comfortable - until you want to hold hands and kiss and cuddle. If that’s what you want.

You’re preparing the delivered food by the time he’s finished in the bathroom and he sits in front of you, acting like there aren’t a hundred things running through his mind. This domesticity is one of them; liking and wanting more of it is another.

You no longer seemed too bothered about what he said earlier and you both get into your usual banter while eating.

Your phone beeps, so does Jungkook’s, and it seems that your friends have resumed asking how he is, now that you’ve informed them that he’s awake.

“Reply, please. They’ll wanna hear it from you,” you tell him.

They eventually call. Jimin’s driving, Taehyung is working out, and Mo-eum is on her way to her shift. You let Jungkook share his account this time and you watch him from your seat, happy that he’s regained his energy. There’s that smile again. And your heart has seriously been so weird since last night.

You wonder if it’s always done that. Or perhaps this is an entirely new feeling that you’re slowly discovering.

Jungkook scrunches his nose. He’s laughing and then asking if you’re full and then filling your glass with water. You’re reminded that yes, he’s always been like this.

It’s you that’s probably changed. And you’re not quite sure what to do. Keep your distance to sort your feelings out and see if you’ll miss him? Keep spending time with him and see if the sensation and giddiness continue?

Just then, you get a notification from your other group chat, and it’s Hayoung who’s messaging.

[hayoung 💛] Hello friends! Less than 2 weeks until our pre-wedding party / send off trip for Tae in Jeju! I’ve got everything booked. Meet up at 11 in the airport!

[hayoung 💛] To Kook and ___ who can’t leave earlier because of work (boooo 😢), I’ve arranged an airport transfer to drive you to the house. I’ll send the details later. See you all! We can’t wait!

You’re reminded of the last trip before Taehyung leaves, the late afternoon flight you have with Jungkook, and the four days you’ll be spending with him.

Seems like you’ll have to go with the second option, then.

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𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢 - 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐁 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐍𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈 | 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐁 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐔 title: champagne confetti - side B pairings: heartthrob!jk, yandere!jk x fashion employee f!reader genre: dark romance, smut, porn with plot, 90s word count: tba beta read by @chaoticpuff17 release date: january 2025

Prompt 1: “you give me brand new emotion, you got me drinking that potion” Prompt 2: The lines did blur, in his mind for sure. Will you be tamed or will your passion for fashion falter for greater good - a life without Jeon Jungkook. When everything you’ve worked for hangs in the balance, his twisted love comes as both a gift and a curse.

summary: You, a determined fashion designer, find yourself entangled in a collaboration with the irresistibly charming and egotistic heartthrob, Jeon Jungkook. Will this partnership remain strictly professional, or will he make the lines blur?

warnings: minors dni 18+ | physical violence, hint of incapable police department, jk is the boy saviour here and everybody bends backwards for his famous ass, dubious consent, possessive/obsessive behavior, emotional manipulation, references to medication that affects mental and physical responses as "drugs" or "pills" or "medication", power imbalance, themes of isolation and confinement, gaslighting, mentions of mafia and criminal underworld, forced intimacy, oral sex (m!receiving), numbness, reader's difficulties getting wet, use of lube, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, riding/cow girl, orgasm difficulties, creampie, and so on (if i'll forgot smth, im so soorrryy!)

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain strong language, explicit content, obsessive behaviour, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, oppressiveness, which we do not condone.

this is a sequel, read part one of 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢 main masterlist

author's note: so, where to start right? this was a long ass ride, mainly because i was fighting with myself to not burn out on this fic coz i loved it so much, and i still love it, but i won't lie that i got lil overwhelmed with how much love this fic received. I am so so so grateful for each and one of you! ♥ and thank you for your patience too. Life's not easy, please understand that, i always try my best. Thank you all. OH! I hope you will, have, or had very lovely and holy, merry christmas fairies ♥

You looked down at your mug, swirling the mulled wine as you gathered your thoughts. “I... I think I’m ready to go back to work,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

The change in Jungkook’s demeanor was immediate. The warmth in his eyes flickered out, replaced by something harder, colder. He set his mug down on the counter with a soft clink, his posture stiffening.

“What makes you think that?” he asked, his tone deceptively calm, but you could hear the edge beneath it. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to meet his gaze.

“I’ve been good, haven’t I?”

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed slightly as he studied you, the tension between you palpable. He took a step closer, his presence imposing.

“You have,” he admitted, his voice low and measured. “But that doesn’t mean you’re ready to go back out there.”

You felt a pang of frustration, but you tried to keep your voice steady. “I need to feel normal again, Jungkook. I need to get out of here, to do something meaningful.”

His jaw tightened, and he reached out, gently but firmly taking the mug from your hands and setting it aside. His fingers lingered on your wrist for a moment, his touch both comforting and possessive. “This is meaningful,” he said, his voice softening just a fraction as he looked into your eyes. “Us, here, together. This is your life now, Y/N.”

“But..but you promised.” Jungkook's expression flickered, a brief moment of conflict passing through his eyes before his gaze hardened again. He took a deep breath, his grip on your wrist tightening slightly as he processed your words.

“I promised to keep you safe,” he said, his voice firm but with an undercurrent of something you couldn’t quite identify—fear, perhaps, or desperation. "And letting you go back to work... it's not safe for you now, Y/N.”

You pulled your wrist free, taking a step back to create some distance. “I can’t stay cooped up in here forever, Jungkook,” you said, your voice trembling but determined. “I need to feel like myself again. I need to be around people, to do something other than just exist in this penthouse.”

He took a step closer, his hands reaching out to cup your face, his touch gentle but his eyes intense. “You are my life now,” he said softly, his voice breaking slightly. “And I can’t lose you. Not to anything or anyone.” You closed your eyes, leaning into his touch despite the turmoil inside you. Jungkook’s thumb brushed over your cheek, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

“Freedom comes with risks, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice filled with a mix of love and possessiveness. “And I’m not sure I can handle those risks.”

“I promise I am not plotting, Gguk—” you began, but Jungkook’s eyes narrowed, his grip on your face tightening ever so slightly.

“Are you not?” he cut in, his voice low and dangerous. The hint of desperation from before was now replaced with a cold, steely resolve.

“Just give me a chance to prove—” His eyes bore into yours, searching for any sign of deceit.

“I don’t know if I can trust that, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice filled with an unsettling mix of love and possessiveness. He was silent for a long moment, his jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tight with tension. Finally, he let out a slow breath, his grip on your face softening.

“We have a family dinner coming up. It’s important, and everyone will be there. If you can behave, show that you can handle yourself around my family, then maybe... just maybe, we can talk about you going back to work.”

The implication of his words settled over you like a weight. This wasn’t just about proving yourself to him; it was about proving yourself to his entire family. The thought was daunting, but you knew this might be your only chance. To get away from his grasp.

“I'll do my best,” you said, your voice trembling with a mix of determination and anxiety. “I promise.”

A small, almost tender smile tugged at the corners of Jungkook’s lips. “Good,” he said softly.

You swallowed hard, the pressure of the upcoming dinner weighing heavily on you. “Who will be there?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jungkook’s eyes flickered with something unreadable. “Everyone,” he said simply. “My parents, all of my Hyungs... among whom someone can offer you a position if you make a good impression.”

This was your chance, and you had to take it.

“I’ll be on my best behaviour,” you promised, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside you.

You stood there in Jungkook’s arms, the Christmas lights twinkling softly around you, you resolved to do whatever it took to reclaim a part of your life.

“Now, show me how good you can warm my cock this Christmas.”

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧

©pennyellee. please do not repost

tag list: @pamzn - @jaedayy (was unable to tag) - @mylyus-blog (was unable to tag) - @vanillacupcakefrosting - @jjeonjjk7 - @darkuni63 - @jeonaraathedreamer - @urlovelily - @kissyfacekoo - @looneybleus - @btspurplesky - @seokseokjinkim - @doulcha - @sexytholland - @minyngrl-blog - @mizuumii (was unable to tag) @ali99eel - @loomipee @jkslvsnella - @tearykth - @iveivory - @lachimolalajeon - @mother2monsters - @junecat - @mayvalentine33 - @ttanniett - @elle0604 - @mageprincess7 - @laylasbunbunny - @ashthetic7 - @00frenchfries00 - @weareatthebadlands (was unable to tag) - @annafarrr -

Don't be a silent reader, let's be friends chummers! ♥

see ya soon, love, p.

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maboiisuga

3 years ago

Short-winded

yandere!Class 1A x fem!reader

[3K]

Summary: You are being forced out of your shell by your classmates, but now it seems more for their on benefit than that of your own.

Warning: anxiety, stalking

│

Keep reading

1K notes View Post

maboiisuga

2 years ago

one of my all time favs!!!

LITTLE DARK AGE

haitani ran x fem!reader x haitani rindou

summary: eight years later, you finally return to tokyo and find yourself caught in the middle of a violent gang war between the two most ruthless criminal organizations of tokyo’s underworld, forced to choose between blood and love.

genre: bonten timeskip, angst, forbidden romance, childhood friends -> strangers -> lovers, 18+ MDNI

warnings: fem!reader, gang violence, drug abuse, alcohol abuse, explicit smut, polyamory, profanity, MCD, unedited, MTBA

chapter warnings: disassociation, class discrimination, mentions of suicide and mass death

taglist closed — but if ur someone who actively reblogs n leaves feedback i might just find a spot for u

previous chapter -> masterlist -> next chapter

CHAPTER Ⅶ. AND YOU'LL NEVER BE PURE AGAIN

FOURTEEN YEARS EARLIER.

“Do we really have to go?” Rindou murmured, tugging at the ends of his suit jacket uncomfortably, glancing back at you. Your shoulders slumped as you fixed your dress in the mirror, a pout tugging at your lips.

“I mean, you don’t have to but I just don’t wanna go to this stupid event alone,” you said, giving both of the brothers a sullen look as they shared a look with one another.

“Whether the boys go with you or not, you won’t be alone,” Miss Yua chided as she brushed your hair, “Don’t be dramatic, your uncle will be attending with you.”

“Uncle Ichirou will be off with Mister Sugawara the entire night, he’s not even driving there with us! He will not be with me, I’ll be off on my own dealing with the creepy Sugawara boys,” you said loudly and let out a sharp cry as Miss Yua smacked the top of your head with the brush, clicking her tongue. “What was that for! They are creepy! They’re always hanging around me and being touchy when I tell them not to, and they’re mean, they always call me names.”

“They what?” Ran asked, voice low, and you missed the dark look that he shared with Rindou as your eyes fluttered shut, letting Miss Yua finish up pinning your hair.

“You heard me, Ran!” you said, turning around once Miss Yua let her hands drop from your head. “They’re just so awful, don’t make me go alone, please.”

You puffed your lip out, looking up at Ran, “Pretty please,” you asked, widening your eyes and letting your bottom lip tremble. Ran rolled his eyes, flicking your forehead hard, you let out a yelp, flinching back.

“Stop with that stupid face,” he muttered, you gaped at him.

“Ran, don’t be mean,” Rindou said and you straightened, pleased that he came to your defense, “She can’t help it, it’s her natural face.”

You gasped dramatically as Ran and Rindou burst into laughter, “Rindou!” you complained, shooting him a withering look, “you guys are the worst! At least my face isn’t as stupid as your hair!”

Ran only grinned at you, his hand falling from the top of your head to your shoulder, squeezing gently. You looked back up at him, eyes meeting his lavender ones and you almost smiled at the light look in his eyes, one that you still hadn’t gotten used to seeing over the past few months.

“Don’t be dumb, ‘course we’ll come with you,” he murmured and a warm feeling settled in your chest as Ran looked down at you, hand lingering on your shoulder. You felt your face begin to heat up and you looked away.

“... I don’t actually think your hair is stupid,” you muttered, and Rindou snorted, nudging your shoulder.

“Yeah, we know that from how often you force us to sit down so you can brush it,” he said and you whipped toward him, scowling.

“Don’t act like you don’t like it! You’re practically sitting there half-asleep and drooling by the time I’m done, Rindou!” you said and Rindou gaped at you.

“I do not! Take that back!”

“You do too!”

Miss Yua clicked her tongue sharply and the two of you quieted down, turning to look at her. Her eyes were trained on you and Rindou gave you a severe side-eye as you tried to shift behind him to step out of her gaze.

“Go to Ayato,” Miss Yua pointed her long finger at you, flicking the air, “He will-”

“Miss Yua!” you complained, watching as she raised her eyebrows at the interruption, “I do not need to be lectured about behavior by Mister Ayato this time! If anything, Rindou and Ran should be going to see him! This is their first time at an event like this!”

“Way to throw us under the bus,” Rindou muttered and you giggled, he only glared at you from beneath his long bangs.

“Go,” Miss Yua said, and it wasn’t up for argument so your shoulders dropped and you pouted, ignoring the way that Rindou snorted as you turned on your heel and walked away.

“How do the two of you even see under this mop of hair? And what is this dye-job?” you heard Miss Yua snap as you made your way down the hall toward Mister Ayato’s office, “Next week the two of you will be dragged to the stylist down the street whether you like it or not. Understood?”

Miss Yua’s voice became muffled as you turned down the hall, distantly hearing Rindou and Ran muttering their agreement before your eyes fell upon Mister Ayato fiddling with a hunting knife on his desk. He placed it down once he saw you approach, you eyed it curiously, never having seen it before, “What’s that from?”

“My brother’s,” Mister Ayato said simply, walking around the desk to step toward you, “he gave it to me a few days before he passed away.”

You blinked, “You had a brother?” you asked quietly. A brother that passed away like… your throat felt swollen. It’s been a good amount of time since you’ve thought deeply about your parents and little sister, the Haitanis were always sure to keep your mind off of it but…

“I did, he was ten years older than me, died when I was in my early teens,” Mister Ayato said, and you stared at him, waiting for him to explain. He patted your head, “Gang violence.”

… but you’d never be able to forget the pain.

“Oh,” you said, “Like-“

“No,” he responded before you could finish, “Not like the boys’ little delinquent groups, actual gang violence.”

“Oh,” you said quietly, looking up as Mister Ayato sighed deeply, a strange look in his eyes.

“Look out for them tonight,” he said quietly and your brows furrowed in confusion, “This event is going to have a lot of dangerous people, don’t let them do anything that would put a target on their backs.”

You stared at him, “A target?”

Mister Ayato’s face twisted, as if he were trying to figure out how to explain, “You… you are in a unique position. Your uncle is a powerful man, amongst the people that will be at tonight’s event, you will be untouchable. The boys do not have that same luxury, do you understand? You will have to use your status to protect them.”

An ill-feeling settled in your stomach, “They might be in danger?” your voice wavered.

You knew your uncle was involved with shady stuff. You’ve known it since the week of the trial but you didn’t think… You weren’t thinking, why would you want to bring Rindou and Ran around these people? You were too focused on your distaste of the Sugawara boys, you weren’t thinking about others who might be attending the event.

Mister Ayato shook his head, “I didn’t say that. There’s no inherent danger in simply attending the event and I doubt that they change their minds now, just make sure they don’t do anything to bring unwelcome attention, and if they do…”

“If they do, I will take it off of them,” you said firmly, nodding your head, “I understand.”

Mister Ayato eyed you for a minute before letting out another heavy breath, “I wish that your uncle didn’t demand your presence at these events,” he murmured, “he should wait until you’re older.”

You opened your mouth to speak but Mister Ayato only waved you off, “Go, Akira will drive you and the boys to the event. Be sure to stay with them.”

You nodded, walking back toward the door, pausing before turning to look back at the older man over your shoulder, “Mister Ayato?” he raised his eyebrows, waiting for you to continue, “uncle Ichirou doesn’t really tell me what goes on at these events but I know it's more than just a party.”

It wasn’t a question but Mister Ayato looked perturbed, he wouldn’t meet your eye. You frowned.

“It’s not for you to worry about now,” Mister Ayato murmured and you opened your mouth to protest but Mister Ayato gave you a stern look, one that had you faltering, “Go, Akira is waiting.”

“Do not do anything rash at this event for whatever reason, do you understand?”

Rindou’s fists were clenched tight at his side as he watched a group of boys his and Ran’s age leer in your direction as you gleefully spoke to an older woman that Rindou didn’t recognize--it was hard to remember Miss Yua’s words as you shifted uncomfortably, bright smile temporarily fading as you met eyes with one of the boys. He and Ran lingered near you, silently snacking on some of the cheese and crackers that had been set up on a nearby table.

They had been like this for twenty minutes now, standing back while you talked to the older woman, trying to ignore the unwelcome stares of the boys halfway across the room. Rindou didn’t have to ask to know they were the Sugawara boys that you had been bitching about before you all left the penthouse--they were the only other kids their age at the event, dressed in clothes that Ran and Rindou couldn’t have even dreamt of being in the vicinity of three years ago.

Rindou tugged uncomfortably at his own suit jacket, shifting on his feet. He hadn’t been able to adapt as well to the new lifestyle as Ran did--though that shouldn’t have been much of a surprise to him, everything came naturally easy to Ran and that included shifting from a survivalist lifestyle to a luxurious one. The new expensive clothes that you, and now Ran, donned like a second skin felt like a silly costume on him, one that he couldn’t quite get used to.

“Should we do something?” Rindou asked, watching as another smile wavered on your face at a particularly loud comment. “She’s uncomfortable.”

Ran’s lips twitched down, eyes dark with irritation and a sort of helplessness that Rindou hated seeing on his brother’s face.

“We can’t,” he said and Rindou’s jaw was tight as he forced his gaze away from Ran and back onto you, a feeling akin to relief sweeping through him when he noticed you bidding goodbye to the older woman and walking back toward them.

And Rindou felt warm when he noticed the smile on your face become wider and more genuine as you drew closer to them.

“Rindou,” you said and Rindou gave you a questioning look, “Wanna dance with me?”

Rindou’s face heated up immediately, eyes wide as he looked between you and the dancefloor, taking a step back. Next to him, Ran snorted and grabbed his shoulder, holding him in place before shoving him forward toward you, “Go on, don’t let the princess down.”

Rindou stumbled forward into you, barely catching himself. He shot Ran a betrayed look but you had already grabbed his hand, “Ran, you’ll dance with me next?” you asked gleefully. Rindou watched as Ran winked at you.

“Of course,” he said, grinning, but Rindou knew from the look in his brother’s eyes that Ran would be long gone before the song was over.

You didn’t give him the chance to protest, instead only dragging him toward the dance floor, smiling bright as you took his hands into yours. Rindou was sure his face was on fire and he didn’t know why--because it was just you. And I mean, yeah, Rindou didn’t really like entertaining conversation or hanging out with anybody but you or Ran--he wasn’t the most sociable or friendly but he’d never been one to get flustered and-

You moved closer to him, Rindou leaned back. You glared, Rindou looked away.

“I can’t dance with you if you’re holding me three feet away, Rindou!” you said.

And Rindou’s mouth was dry, eyes trained on the wall behind you instead of looking down at you and your pretty dress and your pretty face. Not pretty, Rindou thought viciously as you wrapped your arms loose around his neck, pointedly looking at the hands dangling at his side and he reluctantly placed his hands at your waist, letting you lead him in time with soft music because Rindou had no idea how to dance and you knew it, and he knew it, and Ran knew it from how amused he looked, and if Rindou had to bet, anyone that looked in your direction would be able to tell from how stiff he moved.

“Why ya so tense?” you asked, a teasing smile tugging at your lips and Rindou scowled, pointedly looking away.

“I am not,” he said and he hated how petulant he sounded because you obviously noticed it from how you tried to smother a laugh. He couldn’t bring himself to be annoyed because your eyes were light and you were happy and Rindou supposed that he could deal with the ego blow if it made you laugh.

“You totally are,” you giggled, leaning in close, and Rindou’s eyes widened as he leaned back instantly.

“Why are you getting so close?” he asked, flustered, sure that his face was burning red.

“Why are you getting so nervous?” you countered, and Rindou hated how you didn’t even look bothered at the proximity because he didn’t even know why he was thrown off by it--it’s not like this was the first time you’ve ever been this close to him so he wasn’t sure why it was affecting him like this. He hated it.

He looked back in the direction of Ran, panicked, but the panic dissolved when he caught the strange expression on Ran’s face--Ran hadn’t even seemed to notice that Rindou was looking at him, despite the fact that Ran was staring at you and Rindou, and the grin that had been on Ran’s face had fallen into a more conflicted expression that Rindou couldn’t quite decipher, which was odd because Rindou could usually read Ran pretty easily.

But Rindou didn’t get the chance to try to figure out what had changed because you were grabbing his arm to spin yourself beneath it and Rindou was focused on not making a fool of himself in front of all of your uncle’s rich friends and colleagues.

But you only laughed, a bright carefree laugh that had Rindou’s chest feeling light and tight at the same time, and Rindou couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips as you finished spinning and leaned close to him, arms snug around his shoulders and smiling up at him before resting your head on his chest.

And Rindou couldn’t breathe, his eyes were wide and his hands were almost trembling on your waist as you spoke, “I’m really glad you ‘n Ran came, Rin,” you said, and Rindou usually hated when people shortened his name but somehow when it was falling off of your lips, he couldn’t bring himself to hate it. “It would have been dreadfully boring had I been alone ‘n I’m sure those dumb boys would have tried something by now, so thank you, I know this isn’t exactly your scene.”

Your scene, he thought to himself, glancing around at the gilded walls and antiques decorating the room, thousand-dollar paintings lining the walls. That’s putting it lightly.

“You don’t need to thank us,” he murmured, “We wouldn’t just leave you here.”

“Even so, I still want to thank you,” you smiled, looking up at him with such a sincere look in your eyes that it had Rindou tongue-tied, only able to nod in response.

“If I had known we were allowed to bring any old lowlife, I would’ve brought the whore that was eyeing me up on the way over here to make this shitty event less awful,” an unfamiliar voice said and Rindou stiffened, eyes darting over to where one of the boys--one with dark hair and darker eyes, was now standing much closer to where he was dancing with you, eyeing the two of you distastefully.

You didn’t pause in your movements, instead bringing Rindou’s arm up for another spin, “I am not surprised you’d have to stoop to whores for company, Sakuya, nobody would willingly spend time with you unless they were paid.”

Rindou choked on air and one of the boys standing near Sakuya snorted, trying to muffle it with his hand as Sakuya shot him a dirty look.

Rindou eyed the boy from the corner of his eye--Sugawara Sakuya, he recognized, you had warned him and Ran about him and his brothers on the way over. Sakuya was the oldest son--seventeen, a year older than Ran, three years older than you--and he was also the most vocal and aggressive when it came to tormenting and bothering you.

“Rich coming from the girl whose only friends are street rats that only stay around because they need shelter,” Sakuya said coldly and Rindou watched as your expression dropped and your feet faltered, a hurt look spreading across your face.

And Rindou’s ears rung, his blood ran hot and it took all of his self-control not to launch himself forward and rip Sakuya’s head off. Instead, his grip only tightened on you, shifting you behind him so he could step forward.

There’s five of them, five of them and one of him, and he has to protect you. He won’t win—maybe? How well trained are they? He didn’t know, you had mentioned that they were trained in some sort of martial arts but not how skilled.

“What’s going on?” Rindou nearly relaxed at Ran’s familiar voice coming from behind the two of you, stepping in front of you and next to Rindou.

Okay, it’ll be fine. They wouldn’t beat him and Ran together.

“What? Are you gonna say I’m wrong?” Sakuya scoffed, stepping forward closer to Ran, and Rindou felt anxious when he noticed the dark look in Ran’s eyes, one that promised blood and violence if Sakuya continued. Dread pooled in Rindou’s gut as Sakuya started speaking again, “You think everyone here doesn’t know you’re using her for her money… or are you using her for something else too?”

Rindou’s mouth was dry at the connotation and he could barely even think over the blood roaring in his ears. This fucking-

“Shut your fucking mouth,” Rindou spit out as Ran’s hand twitched at his side, “You have no fuckin’ idea what you’re talking about.”

Sakuya’s eyes snapped toward Rindou, a combined look of disgust and fury twisted onto his face.

“Who do you think you are?” Sakuya said, voice low as he walked closer to Rindou. Rindou tensed, Ran’s fist tightened as he shifted you further behind the two of them as Sakuya drew closer. “You have some nerve even looking in our direction, much less speaking. Know your place.”

“Our place?” Ran asked, eyes aflame and Sakuya only scoffed.

“You can wear all the fancy shit you want but it doesn’t change the fact that you’ll always be street rats. You don’t belong here,” Sakuya spat and Rindou’s jaw clenched at the comment, a strange feeling bubbling in his chest. Ran took a step forward, eyes dark, fist tight.

Fuck, this was going to get-

Rindou’s eyes widened when he felt you fling his hand off of your arm, pushing forward past him and Ran to stand chest to chest with Sakuya, “Bold coming from the son of a family that gets the majority of their money from my uncle. You would have nothing without us, you have some nerve coming to my family to talk about wealth, know your place.”

Murmurs broke out around the group of you but Rindou couldn’t focus on anything other than you—my family, you had said and the words bounced around in his head over and over again, my family, my family, my family.

Rindou bit the inside of his cheek, trying to calm himself down. He glanced at Ran, taking how his brother’s eyes were wide and trained on you.

Sakuya spluttered, “Excuse m-“

“You heard me,” you interrupted, “Get out of my sight, just looking at you makes me ill.”

Rindou gaped, Ran gaped, Sakuya gaped before fury washed over his face. He stepped forward, fist clenched but Ran and Rindou were there first, grabbing his wrists and holding him in place.

“I would listen to her,” Ran didn’t make any sort of explicit threat but the dark undertone was there—listen to her or we’ll make you.

But Sakuya didn’t look deterred—at least not until a new voice spoke up, “Sakuya, father told us not to antagonize the guests,” a new voice said and Rindou’s gaze darted behind the older boy to a younger one with dark hair and cold eyes that made Rindou feel distinctly uncomfortable.

“Kenji, mind your fuckin business,” Sakuya spit out but even as he said that, he ripped his arms from Ran and Rindou’s arms and stepped away, brushing at his sleeves. “Whatever, a pair of filthy street rats aren’t worth the trouble anyway—gonna catch something if we stay around them any longer.”

Rindou bristled but didn’t say anything as they walked away, not now, he reminded himself over and over and over again. He frowned when he caught sight of the younger boy, Kenji, eyeing you curiously before following after his brother.

You tugged at his and Ran’s wrist immediately and they followed along quietly, pulling them away from prying eyes and toward the stairs that led to the upper floor. You didn’t say anything until you opened the doors to the balcony. The cool night air hit him hard, washing the anger away as the distant sounds of the party became muted.

You leaned against the railing, looking up at the night sky instead of at them, Rindou’s feet moved on his own as he joined you at the railing, Ran lingered back. Rindou tried to shoot him a look but only got ignored.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, “They’re despicable. I should have said something sooner.”

“You shouldn’t have done that,” was all Ran said in response, “Gotten so nasty with them on our behalf, it could have-”

Rindou remembered Miss Yua’s warning, how their actions could have backlash on you, he felt sick.

You only rose your chin, “Don’t be silly, I’ll always defend you guys. I don’t care who it’s against!” you said firmly, and Rindou’s face was so hot that he swore he was on the verge of setting himself on fire. “Even Uncle Ichirou!”

“Even who?”

Rindou’s eyes widened at the sound of an unfamiliar male voice from behind the three of them, he watched as your mouth dropped open as you turned around to face the man that Rindou recognized from pictures as your uncle. You looked thrown off for a second before steeling your shoulders, “Even from you!”

And Rindou tensed, waiting for your uncle to get angry but instead his expression only softened, if only barely, a fond look in his eyes as he looked down at you.

“I hope they deserve your loyalty,” he murmured as if the two of them weren’t standing right there. Rindou shifted uncomfortably as your uncle’s gaze landed on him, a contemplative expression on his face. “I’ll speak to Sugawara about his boys. They were out of line approaching you as they did. Don’t stay up here too long, people will talk.”

Your shoulders slumped, “It’s stuffy in there and I hate all of them.”

Your uncle clicked his tongue, “Get used to it, this will be your life when you take over Izanagi from me,” he chided.

“I’m not taking over Izanagi!” you said firmly, “I’m going to make my own company and outdo yours, you’ll see!”

Your uncle raised his eyebrows, an amused smile twitching at his lips before nodding, “Of course,” he said and you looked disgruntled at his tone but your uncle didn’t wait for another response, turning on his heel to walk back toward the event.

You slumped as soon as he was out of sight, tossing a petulant look in the direction of where he disappeared to, “I will,” you muttered before letting out a loud, exhausted sigh, leaning back onto the railing and looking back up at the sky.

For a few moments, none of you spoke, instead just basking in the silence of the night and the distant chatter of the party. It was peaceful--genuinely peaceful and Rindou didn’t often get to experience genuine peace like that so he shut his eyes and enjoyed it, letting out a soft breath at the feeling of the light breeze cooling his skin and running through his hair, your arm brushing against his.

You broke the peace with a loud shout that startled him, his eyes flew open, watching as you pointed toward the sky, “Look! A shooting star! Make a wish, make a wish!”

“Shooting stars are bullshit,” Ran said immediately.

“Make a wish!” you demanded and Rindou watched as you shut your eyes, looking up at the sky, a smile on your lips and your hands interlocked. His throat felt tight and he couldn’t tear his eyes off of you to make his own wish.

“What’d you guys wish for?” you asked after a moment and Rindou’s gaze darted back up when you reopened your eyes, looking at the sky.

“We can’t tell you, you idiot!” Ran said, “then it doesn’t come true,”

“I thought you said shooting stars are bullshit!” you accused, pointing at Ran and Ran spluttered, looking away.

Rindou took one last long look at your bright smile and Ran’s reddening face, a tight feeling on his throat as he looked back up at the sky, making his wish.

I don’t want this to end.

---

PRESENT.

You couldn’t breathe, it felt like your throat was stuffed with dust, your tongue was sandpaper. Your eyes were open and your vision was dark and blurry.

Everything was silent.

What had happened?

You couldn’t move, something was on top of you, the lower half of your body was stuck—you couldn’t see and you couldn’t breathe and you couldn’t hear anything.

Something was wrong, you should hear something—you were at the auction, people were here and then-

And then what?

Your breath quickened, your throat burned. You couldn’t remember. Think, you told yourself, you had to th-

“Ah, shit! Takuya, I’m running late to the meeting, i-what do you mean you’re not at Suvala HQ? Who the fuck is there representing us? …. Damn it, Takuya, this looks so bad on us, we-“

“Y/n?” you looked up at the new voice, a smile pulling at your lips as you recognize the man standing in front of you.

“Hm? Oh! Hey, Takuya, I’ll talk to you when we get to the building, be there in 15, okay? … yeah, see you. Gunter! What’s up?”

You couldn’t see anything. Your eyes were opened, you knew they were opened so why? You craned your neck up, wincing at the pain, your heart was erratic in your chest.

Your face was wet, you could feel something warm dripping down your forehead into your eyes—blood, you realized what had been obscuring your vision. You lifted an arm, gasping in pain as your entire body screamed and ached in protest. You wiped the blood from your face, cringing as it smeared across your skin.

You gagged at the thick scent of iron, of garlic—garlic, the explosion, Hanma, Hanma had thrown himself over you. And Rindou, Rindou was in there and Ran you didn’t know where Ran was.

You wiped more frantically, trying to blink away the spots and blood staining your vision. Your stomach churned uncomfortably, the remnants of the explosion—the smoke, the fire, it reeked, you couldn’t think over the smell it was consuming you just like it had-

“Shouldn’t you be at the meeting?” Gunter Krüger grinned at you, “Here, I grabbed an extra coffee for Felix, was gonna meet him and Adie at the office, you take it. Don’t tell him it was his though, yeah?”

You laughed, taking the coffee from him and a small sip, “Yeah, my uncle’s secretary held me up on the phone at the apartment. I’m running late, bad look, I know,” you told him, “Wanna walk with me over?”

“Yeah, let’s go, it’s a short walk. I can cover for you so it doesn’t look as bad,” Gunter offered as the two of you walked down the street toward the large glass building in the near distance, “Say that I needed help and it took longer than it should have.”

“Don’t tell Felix,” you winked, “but you’re definitely the better brother.”

Gunter burst into laughter, “You say that until Felix saves your ass from one of those board meetings again.”

“True,” you agreed, “This should be the last one though.”

Gunter glanced at you, interested, “The decision’s being made today?” he asked and your smile fell, knowing damn well that the decision being made was not in your favor.

“Yeah, the dec-” but you weren’t even able to finish your sentence, eyes wide and voice faltering as an explosion rocked the very ground you were standing on, sending you and Gunter both careening to the ground.

You had to get up. Your arms trembled as you tried to push yourself up off of the ground. You couldn’t push up, whatever was blocking the lower half of your body was too heavy for you to push off. Panic began to flood through you, the scent of blood got stronger, the air got thicker. You couldn’t breathe.

You lifted your head up, neck aching but you could make out figures--or not figures? You couldn’t tell.

Not figures, you realized, grimacing at the debris scattered all over the auction hall, broken seats, remnants of the stage, the balcony near the stage. Your eyes darted around, mouth drying when you caught sight of Hanma Shuji laying unmoving several feet away, body half-covered with debris, evidently having been blown off of you during the blast.

You tried to call his name but it felt as if there were ashes stuffed down your throat, your chest felt tight when you noticed the blood pooling beneath him and you tried to push yourself to your feet again, arms shaking violently but you let out a sharp gasp as your body fell limp to the ground as you failed again.

Get up, you begged yourself, get up.

“Y/n, get up!” your ears were ringing and your eyes were wide, the pavement was cool against your cheek but the air was hot around you, uncomfortably so. What the fuck had happened? You could barely breathe, think, much less rise to your feet.

But someone grabbed your arm, yanking you to your feet, your eyes drifted behind you, falling on Gunter pulling you to your feet, “We gotta get out of here, t-the building, Suvala it-”

“There are people in there,” you gasped but you could barely hear yourself, looking around at the screaming pedestrians, at the familiar building collapsing in on itself in the near distance, “Felix and Adie, Gunter they’re in the building, we-”

You pulled away from him, stumbling forward to run toward Suvala Headquarters, eyes blurring and throat burning, the only thought circling through your head being to get to your friends.

The pressure was pulled off of you and your eyes widened, you tried to push yourself up but a gasp was ripped from your throat as a hand fisted your hair, yanking you to your feet. You winced, pain shooting through you, you could taste blood in your mouth and you could still barely see.

Your vision was blurry and spotted as you tried to look around, figure out what was going on--the front half of the auction hall was decimated--the explosion came from below, the other side of the building probably. Hanma had mentioned the storeroom was over there--someone had rigged it to explode? The phosphorus? The phosphorus wasn’t even supposed to be in the building, so how-

Hanma, your eyes darted around, he had covered you, you had to-

The grip on your hair tightened, your eyes widened and your lips parted to let out a cry of pain but nothing came out. You felt nauseous as your head was yanked back, turning it to the side, and your eyes fell upon the bloody, scarred face of Sanzu Haruchiyo, pink hair matted to his forehead and cheeks, eyes wild. His lips were moving--he was speaking.

He was speaking?

You couldn’t hear him?

Panic began to swell as your eyes widened, as you looked around--you couldn’t hear anything. You should hear something--screaming, the aftermath of the explosion, the building collapsing in—but it was all silent, your stomach dropped, your heart caved in.

Sanzu’s grip tightened on your hair, something sharp pressed against your neck and you gasped as you were forced back down onto your knees, grimacing as a sharp piece of wood dug into your calf, throat burning uncomfortably.

Your knees hit the ground hard, tearing holes into the cloth of your pants as Gunter crashed into you from behind, preventing you from getting any closer to the building. His hands curled around your bicep, holding you in place as you tried to scramble back to your feet.

“Gunter let me go! Let me go! Felix is fucking in there, Felix and Adie, we-”

“If you go in there, you’ll die,” he shouted but his words were barely registering, you couldn’t tear your eyes off of the building, over the billowing thick, white smoke that was expanding over the street and the sky about Suvala Headquarters, the fire that was spreading to nearby buildings, a park full of children. You tried to push him off, his grip tightened, “We have to get out of here.”

“Felix and Adie-”

“They’re dead,” Gunter roared, and you could hear his voice crack. His wife, his brother, they- “If the explosion didn’t kill them, the smoke and fire did--do you smell that?”

Sharp pungent, like garlic--you couldn’t breathe, you barely even think but you were able to recognize what it might mean. Phosphorus? There was no way-

“We need to get out of here--the fire’s just going to keep spreading, we can’t let that shit touch us,” Gunter was tugging you to your feet, dragging you away, and you watched--you couldn’t bring yourself to cooperate as you watched a group of teachers desperately try to evacuate a nearby elementary school, as civilians ran into the building and ultimately to their deaths trying to help.

The smoke was toxic, the fire was spreading faster than people could run-

The fire, your eyes darted around, the smoke was rising on the other side of the room, fire spreading. You had to get out of here.

You tried to tug at Sanzu Haruchiyo’s wrist, “Fire,” you tried to say but you couldn’t hear yourself, you didn’t know if he could hear you, you didn’t even know if the words were coming out correctly, “We have to get out of here, the fire-”

The grip on your hair tightened, shutting you up, you inhaled sharply as something sharp dug harder into your neck--a knife?

Your head felt fuzzy and you would have swayed were it not for Sanzu holding you up, your eyes drifted around, vision doubled and you caught sight of Hanma on his hands and knees, something puncturing his side, blood dribbling from his mouth and smeared across his face but he was alive and as much as the man might cause you discomfort, you were relieved because you were pretty sure he had saved your life.

He was saying something, you could see his lips moving but you couldn’t hear and you couldn’t quite make out the words through the movements of his lips. He was angry, spitting out words, gaze directed toward you and Sanzu.

You couldn’t breathe, everything hurt--the people, there were so many people in the auction hall. You tried to look around but Sanzu yanked your head back again, you grit your teeth. Your lungs burned and you couldn’t-

-breathe. You couldn’t breathe. Gunter was dragging you by the wrist away from the building, People were slamming into you, desperate to get away, some were trying to run in the opposite direction, yelling for who you assumed were loved ones that were supposed to be in the area.

You felt sick, you couldn’t breathe, you could barely even think, the only thing that kept you going was the hand wrapped around your wrist. He was talking to you but you could barely hear him over the screams and the fire roaring and spreading in the distance.

What had happened? Phosphorus, that had to be intentional, who would target Suvala? Y-

“I’ll handle it.”

You felt cold, which was strange because the heat of the explosion and the fire should have been overwhelming. There were more people--someone was helping Hanma to his feet and you could only barely recognize Mina. Relief swept through you like a tidal wave, he was okay. Your lips parted to say something but no words left your mouth.

There was someone on the ground next to them, Mina was holding him by the neck.

Kokonoi? You recognized, blood drenching his white hair--he was hit in the head during the explosion. His eyes were unfocused as they fell on you, dazed, blood dribbled from his nose and his lip was split. He had been punched too, you realized, eyeing Mina’s bruised fist.

You felt the knife that Sanzu had at your throat press deeper, Mina’s face twisted, he yelled something, his grip on Kokonoi’s throat tightened.

A stand-off, you realized, catching sight of the man that had interrupted Ran and Rindou from interrogating you, Kakucho, looking between you and Sanzu and Mina and Kokonoi warily, as if unsure what to do. He held out a hand toward Sanzu, lips moving and you wanted to scream because you couldn’t hear and you didn’t know what they were saying or how you could help.

You could never help, everything that went wrong was always your fault. You never should have come back to Tokyo and-

“I never should have asked you for help!” you screamed at the phone that was laying on the ground of your apartment a few feet away, your uncle was silent on the other end. You pulled at your hair, sobs and dry heaves wracking your body, the news played in the background. “I didn’t mean like this, you know I didn’t mean this!”

“There is no risk of this being pointed back at you. It’s all under control.”

“That’s not what I’m fucking worried about!”

Mina was shouting, his grip on Kokonoi’s throat was tightening. You could read his lips now but the words weren’t registering in your head--I’ll snap his fucking neck if you don’t let her go.

“Investigations on the tragedy at Munich point toward a lack of continuity in safety inspections leading to a massive gas line leak.”

Sanzu shook you violently, blood dribbled down your neck, the knife cut deeper into your skin.

“Nearly six thousand killed in the horrific gas pipe leak at the Suvala office in Munich.”

You had to get out of the auction hall, your hands were trembling, the floor creaked dangerously, the fire was spreading to the walls behind you and it was hot, it was so hot that you felt cold. If you stayed any longer, the smoke and the heat, it would cause irreparable damage.

“Phosphorus munitions involved in the devastating incident at Munich? Eyewitnesses claim so! What isn’t the government telling us? Why are they trying to brush this off as a gas pipe leak?”

“Have to get out,” you gasped but you still couldn’t hear yourself and you felt sick, you brought a hand up to your ear, desperately trying to blink back the tears that formed when you felt the blood. “The smoke is toxic, the fire-”

“You will get on that stage and announce the merging of Suvala and Izanami. I do not care for your personal feelings on the matter, y/n. I gave you what you asked for, the means of how it happened is inconsequential now. Take advantage of the opportunity or be swallowed by those who will.”

Your body was snapped to the side, your vision went black, pain shot through your head, you reeled trying to figure out what had happened. Your head, Sanzu bashed your head into the debris of the chairs.

“In light of recent events, I, l/n y/n, founder and chief executive of Izanami Connect, will take it upon myself to step in for Chairman Krüger after the tragedy in Munich as previous negotiations dictated. As I move to bring the company under Izanami’s wing, I will take steps to ensure a disaster like this will never occur again. I swear to do right by all of the families affected by this tragedy.”

Your shoulder hit the ground hard, a gasp ripped from your chest, pain ricocheted through your body so intense that it had you blacking out for a second, vision spotty and head fuzzy. Your arms trembled as you tried to push yourself up only to crash back toward the ground. You turned your head to the side, still trying to figure out what was going on.

Your mouth dried as you caught sight of Rindou grabbing Sanzu by the collar, driving his fist into his face over and over and over again and your lips parted to call out for him, eyes blurring with tears because he was alive, he was fucking alive and that all that mattered because the last time-

“L/n-san, I’m so sorry for your loss. I know you were close to both of the Krüger brothers. Chairman Krüger in the explosion and now Gunter… It must be so hard.”

The last time none of them survived.

Or, well.

You supposed one actually did. You felt sick. Gunter is alive.

Kakucho rushed toward Rindou, trying to pull him off of Sanzu and someone grabbed your arm hard, yanking you back to your feet. You turned your head, eyes wide, but relaxed when you realized it was Mina, he was looking over you, speaking to you, but you couldn’t hear. You shook your head, trying to focus on his lips but you were seeing double, triple, you couldn’t focus.

Mina seemed to realize, instead only wrapping an arm around your waist to help steady you before motioning for Hanma to follow, fleeing the auction hall and you wanted to scream, tell Rindou to get the fuck out of there but you could barely breathe, your vision was going spotty again as Mina jostled you around, the pain becoming too much for your body to handle before it finally gave out on you.

---

You weren’t sure how long it took for you to come back to but your entire body ached and burned when you did. You grimaced at the light, wincing as you tried to push yourself up to figure out where the fuck you were.

“Careful,” a familiar, gruff voice murmured, “You got fucked up back there, take it easy.”

“No shit,” you muttered, looking at Mina, wincing as your neck shrieked in pain in response to the movement, “Where are we?”

“A safe house,” a new voice said and your gaze drifted to the other side of you, where Hanma Shuji was laying on a bed, shirt rolled up as a middle-aged woman worked on stitching up a wound on his side. Amber eyes watched you curiously, “You’re already up.”

“No shit,” you repeated and Hanma snorted in amusement. “Where’s everybody else? Kawaragi? The guys she was with?”

Hanma looked away. Your eyes turned to Mina, whose lips were pressed together tight before he spoke, “Haven’t heard from her. Apparently, she was supposed to be where the bombs went off, doubt she made it out.”

Oh, something familiar and unwelcome squeezed at your chest. You pushed it away. Stop, you barely even knew her.

“Bombs? Plural?” you narrowed in, trying to remember if there was more than one explosion but your mind was being torn to shreds and you couldn’t focus enough to remember.

“Mm,” Mina agreed, “There were two explosions--a smaller one, which we assume was a grenade or something of the sort that set off the phosphorus munitions. Fucking lucky that the majority of it was being held in another warehouse otherwise we’d be melted right now.”

You felt ill. You opened your mouth to speak but paused when you noticed movement from the corner of your eye: Hanma waving away the nurse carelessly, teeth grit as he pushed himself to his feet, rolling his shirt back down, “C’mon, Sugawara wanted to talk to us when you woke up.”

Mina looked between you and Hanma, a protest on his lips but Hanma simply ignored him, holding a hand out toward you.

“Why?” you asked warily, dread pooling in your gut.

Hanma shrugged, “Didn’t explain,” he said simply, glancing down at his hand pointedly. Reluctantly, you took his hand, letting him help you to your feet and hook an arm around your waist to help you walk steady.

Mina rose to his feet, eyes narrowed. A mocking smile curled to Hanma’s lips, “Relax, I’ll bring her right back,” he cooed and Mina’s eye twitched, he stepped forward.

You shook your head and he frowned but stepped back, the wary expression not leaving his face, “I’ll be back,” you told him as Hanma started moving toward the exit of the room, not giving Mina any time to respond. As the two of you walked down the tiled floors of the hall outside the room, a dry comment rose to your lips, “Thought Sugawara said he’d bet his life the weapons weren’t at the auction hall.”

The mocking smile on Hanma’s face shifted into a crueler one, a playful look in his eyes that you weren’t quite sure how you felt about, as he looked down at you, “Maybe we should hold him to that, yeah?”

You forced yourself not to let your eyes widen at the statement as Hanma pulled you down another hall toward a large open room, letting go of you as soon as you got in sight of the others in the room. No showing weakness, you understood as he forced himself not to wince with every step--he had been leaning on you for help as much as he had been helping you, you realized with a frown.

You shook your head, focusing on keeping yourself steady instead of Hanma Shuji so you didn’t make a fool of yourself in front of the other executives of Sugawara’s organization.

Your uncle was here, you noticed the grim look on his face and frowned. He refused to meet your eyes and an unsettling feeling took over--the woman from the meeting, Alyona, was standing next to him and on her other side, looking down at something you couldn’t quite see from where you were standing was Sugawara.

He smiled bright when he saw you and Hanma, “Shuji, y/n, there you are! We’ve been waiting. I’m glad you’re okay, I heard the explosion was pretty bad.”

Pretty bad, your ears rung as you stared at him, certain that you must not have heard him correctly. Three-quarters of the people in that auction hall were probably killed. And he’s-

“It’s a shame it didn’t take out any of the Bonten executives though,” he frowned, and your eyes narrowed--how did he know that already? You glanced at Hanma but his expression was also tight and you could see the confusion spotting his eyes, “But! It’s not all bad news because we managed to get our hands on one of their executives anyway!”

Tunneled. Your vision tunneled and the sound around you muted.

Got our hands on one? But…

Your eyes drifted to the center of attention of the rest of the room, the figure tied on the ground, and at once, your entire world fell apart--the breath ripped from your lungs, the air around you became oppressive and suffocating, everything crumbled in a matter of seconds.

Ran.

---

WORDCOUNT: 8K

REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK VERY MUCH APPRECIATED !!

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maboiisuga

1 year ago

Quarter Quell IV

Yandere Jungkook, Hunger Games AU

Warnings; Gore, death, yandere behavior, killing, strong language, literally kids murdering other kids, male on female violence (special trigger warning: in this series, there are moments where male tributes will overpower and hurt female tributes. These scenes can be particularly triggering to women who have suffered abuse from men so please reconsider if you can handle this reading.)

Special trigger warning: FOR MY MUSLIM READERS, THIS IS IS NOT RAMADAN SAFE!!! In fact, I advise you to stay away from my blog as asks can reference my writing and also contain strong language, but please feel free to come back after your spiritual reflection is over.

PART ONE, PART TWO, PART THREE

Additional reading: Tribute Catalog

Word Count; 14.5k

The Hunger Games typically include a feast each year. Feasts are used to bring the remaining tributes together if the Gamemakers think the game is getting boring or slow. Often when food is scarce in the arena, or some tributes need vital equipment, the Gamemakers will invite the tributes to a banquet at a well-known place, such as the Cornucopia, to induce another bloodbath.

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maboiisuga

2 years ago

1:14 PM | sanzu h.

sanzu haruchiyo x fem!reader

summary: post kanto manji gang vs toman, you’re staying with your boyfriend to help take care of him after he was released from the hospital.

warnings: spoilers for most recent chapters — once again, yn does not care ab anything except him, cuz i don’t :D, can be read as part two to the timestamp from yesterday but also as a stand-alone; kakucho implied to have survived

notes: 🥹 this is my coping mechanism

taglist: @kxeyas @sano-obsessed @thomaphoria @dear-xiao @kisakiapologist @manjiroscum @arozaur @scandescent @tokyometronetwork

wordcount: 1.8k

your jaw was clenched tight as you slipped into the water behind him, acutely aware of the wince on his face that he was desperately trying to hide, and acutely aware of the way his body shook in pain with every breath.

his arms were trembling and his lips were pressed tight together, and you didn’t speak as you settled in the water behind him, palm gently resting on his back.

“lay back,” you finally said quietly and sanzu inhaled sharply as he slowly leaned back, a hiss escaping his lips at the movement.

you swallowed thickly as you brushed his hair over one shoulder, letting his bruised back lay flush against your chest as the two of you soaked in the warm water. your arms circled him loosely, nails tracing feather-light patterns on his skin, careful of the deep purple and black bruises covering his entire abdomen and half of his chest, disappearing below the water where you knew they were also decorating his thighs.

his eyes slid shut as he rested the back of his head against your shoulder and you brought one hand up to cup his cheek, fingers tracing the blackened eye that slowly peeked back open at your touch.

narrowed blue eyes focused on you, “it looks worse than it really is,” he murmured for the millionth time.

and you only sighed, you knew he would say something along the lines of that—he had been saying the same thing since he got back from the hospital. sanzu hated showing weakness, especially to you. you let your eyes shut, leaning down to press your lips against his pale shoulder, resting there for a moment.

“you don’t need to put up this act with me,” you said softly, about to continue before you were interrupted.

“it’s not an act,” he said instantly, but his words were counteracted by the grimace that crossed his face as another wave of pain swept over him.

“baby, you can barely move,” you said gently, swallowing thickly, “you almost died, it’s okay to-“

sanzu bristled, and you should have expected this. he never took well when people tried to call him out on his weaknesses, even if they had good intentions.

“i said i’m fine,” he snapped harshly, but his body did not react well to the sudden burst of emotion and movement as he tried to sit up. he gasped sharply, eyes shooting open, and your arms darted forward to hold his shoulders, preventing him from doubling over because you knew it would only end up hurting him more.

you pulled him back against your chest, lips pressed to the top of his head as a ragged sob escaped his lips. sanzu had never handled pain well, ever since the first day you met him when you were younger — a fight gone wrong when he challenged a group of older, bigger and stronger boys who were talking down on the tokyo manji gang, who left him bleeding and unconscious in an alley for you to find on your way home from practice.

he had been insufferable then, going on and on about how it didn’t hurt all the while his legs were giving out with every step and he wasn’t even able to walk without passing out. and he was equally insufferable now, only the damage was ten times worse.

you knew better than to scold him—you had tried to talk to him about it at the hospital but his responses were less than desired—so all you could do now was hold him and help him get through it.

you murmured soft reassurances against his skin as his body trembled violently in your arms, as he gasped for air and as his eyes watered.

“i’ve got you,” you said quietly, “always got you, haru.”

you felt sick as you watched his abdomen tense and spasm, as his hand flew to his mouth to muffle another broken sob. you wondered how long it would last—the doctors had told him not to strain himself, physically or mentally, because he would be prone to waves of severe pain until everything healed properly.

but sanzu was sanzu, and sanzu didn’t listen to anybody except himself. the last time it had happened was this morning, and he had been curled up in bed, biting down hard on a discarded shirt to muffle the cries of pain as to not disturb you while you were making him breakfast.

you had come back to find him on the verge of passing out, eyes glassy and unfocused and face contorted in a sort of pain you’d never seen on him before. and you had dropped the glass of water you had been bringing him to rush to his side, holding him gently until the wave of pain passed, just like you were now.

“shhhh,” you pressed your face to the top of his head, hiding in his soft hair, “shh, it’s okay, baby, you’ll be okay.”

“hurts,” he gasped and you shut your eyes, a helpless feeling sweeping over you when you realized you couldn’t do anything except wait for it to pass, “i cant breathe, i cant-“

you brought your hand back to his face, cupping his cheek again and wiping away the tears that were slipping from his eyes.

and he always did this—when the pain became too much and he lost control over the facade he was so insistent on putting up. he always crumbled, letting out gasps and whimpers and mindless babbles about how bad it hurt, eyes wide and wild and glassy, searching yours for help. and it had your heart clenching so tight you thought you might die because you couldn’t give him the help he needed and you couldn’t ease the pain.

all you could do was hold him, press soft kisses to his shoulders and the top of his head until it passed.

and it did, you could feel his breath slowly evening out again, his erratic heart beat calming and his eyes fluttering shut. you didn’t speak, because you knew if you said something, you’d be met with resistance so instead you rubbed your hands up and down his arms soothingly, lips pressed to his hair, letting him settle down.

your hands tightened on his arms as he shifted but all he did was look back at you, and there was an emotion in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place. sanzu had aways been difficult to read, he refused to open up at all and he kept his heart closely guarded but over time, you had learned to catch his cues and understand the words he was wanted to tell you that always went unspoken.

but this was new. a foreign expression that you couldn’t decipher. you frowned lightly, fingers dancing across his cheekbone and you let out a shaky breath when his long lashes fluttered shut as he leaned into your touch.

“haru,” you murmured, but he didn’t say anything and your heart was in your throat as he shifted his face in your hand, pressing his lips to your palm and covering the back of your hand with his, holding it in place as his eyes slid shut again, lashes brushing his cheek.

your free arm slipped back around him, careful to not aggravate the wounds, holding him as he laid between your legs, back resting on your chest, head on your shoulder. and you noticed, briefly, just how small he seemed in your arms in that moment—a subtle grimace still marring his face, body bruised and broken and still trembling from the aftershocks of the pain.

“i hate this,” his voice shook against your palm, and you wondered if he was so frustrated that he was on the verge of tears again—he had always been the type of person that bottled everything up until he couldn’t hold it in anymore.

you held his head close to you, stroking his hair, fingers scraping his scalp gently, and you ignored how he shuddered against you. and you ignored the wetness that hit the hand that he was clutching to his face. you knew very well just how much he hated reaching this point, hated himself for not being able to handle it—bringing extra attention to it would only make him feel worse.

for a second, you wondered what he would do without you. and it wasn’t a sort of conceited thought or anything along the lines of that—sanzu did not have anyone else. all of his old friends were enemies or dead, the majority of the kanto manji higher ups had turned their back on him after he nearly killed kakucho, kokonoi betrayed kanto manji for toman—the only one left was mikey and mikey was… mikey. he wasn’t in the right state to help anyone, or even to care to help anyone.

your lips trembled against his head at the thought of him having to suffer through this alone—struggling to get out of bed in the morning, struggling to eat, suffering through these brutal waves of pain alone, each second feeling like eternity as he waited for it pass.

you inhaled shakily against him. you knew he wasn’t a good person, he had done terrible things, and tried to do even worse things, without a hint of remorse and some might even say that he deserved worse than what he was dealt but…

but he was good to you. he was always so fucking good to you, always gentle, always looking out for you. and to be quite frank, you didn’t give a single shit about anybody other than him.

and you knew a part of him hated this because of the helplessness that came along with it. he knew that the rest of s62 generation would be after him because of what he had tried to do to kakucho, and he knew that if they came for him while you were around, which was more than likely considering you rarely left his side at this point, there would be nothing he could do—and s62 was not known for their kindness. he could barely walk on his alone, much less fight off madarame shion, mochizuki kanji and the haitani brothers to protect you. because he knew that when they came, you wouldn’t leave his side and they would not take kindly to that.

“you’re stuck with me, y’know?” and you hated how your voice caught and wavered.

sanzu only squeezed your hand gently. you knew you weren’t going to get a response from him while he was like this. you never did because he knew that if he opened his mouth to speak he wouldn’t be able to calm down.

but he didn’t need to say anything. sanzu had aways spoke louder through his actions than he ever did through his words, so when his grip on your hand tightened and his body relaxed back into yours again, it really was all you needed.

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maboiisuga

2 years ago

Pick up a book read a Wikipedia article watch a documentary anything please please please

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maboiisuga

1 year ago

Incel Bakugou please :( him kidnapping darling and forcing her to be his slut because it’s the only thing she’s good for :(

I incorporated another ask I received about a Ghostface Bakugou into this, so enjoy~

BNHA ! FIC

Bakugou Katsuki x darling

TW: yandere, prank calling, breaking and entering, threats

tip-jar: Kofi

Incel Bakugou Please :( Him Kidnapping Darling And Forcing Her To Be His Slut Because It’s The Only

STRANGER

The time was a little after midnight. And you, despite being heavy-eyed and blinking, were still lying stomach-down, sprawled out on the couch.

Some dumb show about some dumb dysfunctional family was playing low on the TV in front of you – not much to your interest, it appeared, or at least not enough to cop your full attention – but enough to act as somewhat pleasing white noise, you didn’t mind letting lull you to sleep.

You were beginning to drool on the pillow your head lay resting on and looked to be struggling between the indecision of getting up to brush your teeth and the more tempting pleasant thought of simply sleeping right there, without the chores of getting ready for bed.

Your arm was mindlessly dangling towards the ground where the remote had slipped to some time ago, along with your phone that suddenly – just when it looked like you were about to fully nod off – started to ring.

Startled, you flinched at the sheer chimes buzzing loud beneath you. Waking by it as though it were the sound of an alarm going off, only it visibly wasn’t yet morning from the looks of the dark outside.

You groaned then, both out of ire and relief – happy it was still nighttime as you were still tired, yet reluctant to have to speak to someone for much of the same reason.

Hesitating for a small moment, thinking it was just a friend with some silly emergency – you were tempted to ignore it before guilt got in the way – where with a pinch between your brows and a big yawn, you swiped to answer it nonetheless.

Clicking speakerphone, you had your eyes still fully closed while croaking out a groggy and slightly bothered, “Hello?”

You expected to hear drunken cries and the muted thumps of base and beat and club chatter or something like it – all in all, at least a whiney girlish voice belonging to a friend – but none of the sorts was at the other end of the line.

“Hello.” It said, much awake compared to you in a voice dark and raspy – audibly altered by some type of scrambler, yet still clearly male.

Still, you didn’t really have the sensibility to think much of it just yet.

“Who’s this?” You asked.

“Who’s this?” He asked back, making your brows further scrunch.

“You’re the one calling?” You replied in askance, dragging your head from the pillow to peek down at the phone on the floor, viewing the caller ID – which gave you next to nothing aside from letting you know that your caller was unknown.

“You tell me your name, and I’ll tell you mine~” He offered then, and your suspicions of it being a prank call only solidified.

And although the corner of your mouth quirked upward by the sentiment, it was unfortunately just a bit late for you to be bothering with. “I’m a little too sleepy to humor pranks right now- I’m sorry. Try again later- bye~” You managed to muster through a yawn, hanging up and thinking that was the end of it.

Only, it didn’t take long for the phone to ring again.

“Why don’t you wanna talk to me?” The same voice asked through the phone.

The thought of simply hanging up again crossed your mind, but at the same time, you didn’t really see the harm in talking with the man. After all, you were awake now anyway – and besides, given he was using a voice-scrambler, it wasn’t so unlikely that it was someone you knew.

And with that, you figured you’d humor them, if only for a little while before brushing your teeth. “Didn’t your mama ever tell you not to talk to strangers?”

“No~” It answered – still in that very altered voice that made it impossible to place.

“Well, my mother taught me better~” You joked with a tiny laugh, thinking the entire thing was kind of exciting now that you were sobering up – your mind slowly waking up and starting to spin. Not knowing exactly who was on the other end – whether it was a coworker or friend, or someone else entirely. You couldn't quite figure out who would bother to do such a thing in the dead of night – to you, of all people.

“Oh, come on~ aren’t you tired of being a goody-two-shoes?” He flirted back, and you giggled a little louder while picking the phone up from the floor.

“Fine then, Mr. Stranger~” You whispered slowly and coyly, rolling over to lay on your back instead before continuing. “What did you wanna talk to me about?”

A dark chuckle came back through the phone, making your stomach purr in turn before he spoke again. “What are you wearing?”

You paused at that – cheeks heating with teeth sinking deep into your lip. “Hm…” Looking down at your drab pajama, you didn’t exactly feel inclined to be truthful. “Sexy lingerie~” You tried instead, trying to keep from laughing while putting on your best mock-sultry voice.

“I don’t like liars.” The man answered. “I know you’re wearing pajamas.”

You pouted. “Okay, fine- you caught me.”

“Still sexy, though.” He added, making you giggle again.

“And you’re a little creepy, Mr. Stranger.” You stated with a tease, biting your lip with a smile while looking at the phone for his reply.

Only his answer wasn’t very nice. “You’re the one whoring around with an unknown man on the phone, slut.”

Your eyes widened before abruptly hanging up.

His voice had changed, and immediately the whole conversation didn’t feel very fun anymore. Suddenly mean-spirited, it soured into something that made you feel all in all rather stupid for even amusing in the first place.

But again… it only took a few seconds for the phone to ring a third time.

“Don’t hang up on me.” The same voice demanded.

And while feeling bored of the game, you sighed with a huff and asked him nonetheless, “What do you want?”

“I told you already, I want to know your name~” He said, his playful tone of voice back again – only this time, you weren’t at all charmed by it anymore.

“Why do you want to know my name?” You bit out sourly. Unsure why you were still on the phone and even more unsure why you even bothered picking up yet again at all.

“Well… ‘cause…” He began slowly with a pause, and your brows only sunk lower with his antics, finding yourself properly pissed until he uttered the next line – only now in a deeply unsettling whisper. “I want to know who I’m looking at.”

You went cold, with a chill running sharply down your spine.

Sitting up slowly, you held the phone tightly in your grip while looking at all the windows viewing the darkness outside.

“Oh~ you look cute when you’re scared~” He continued, and you jumped to your feet and stomped to the first window, drawing the curtains one after the other one until none remained.

“Quit calling.” You finished, hanging up for what you really wished would be the last time.

Seconds later, the phone rang again despite your wish. Only this time, you let it ring – deliberating whether you ought to call the police or simply ignore it until it stopped.

You went to check if the outer door was locked before padding back to the couch, listening to the phone finish ringing before beginning anew.

You figured he’d stop after a while, but minutes passed without a break until you finally picked up – not out of fear, but anger.

“I told you not to hang up on me!” He yelled, and you sneered.

“Listen, asshole-”

“No, you listen, you stupid bitch-” He interrupted. “If you hang up on me again, I’ll wring your little neck ‘til your eyes pop-”

You gaped at his threats but weren’t about to let yourself be bullied either. “If you don’t stop calling, the next call will be to the police!”

“Tch-” He scoffed before laughter spilled through the speaker. Louder and louder until it stopped with the next utterance. “Stupid pigs won’t make it in time.”

There was a crash of glass somewhere in the house, and you flinched while withholding a scream.

Fear hit you like a flash, robbing you of breath before your instinct took you towards the door.

Rushing, wide-eyed and goosefleshed, you swallowed thickly while trying to think. With your phone gripped tight in one hand, you tried pushing in the numbers to the police – while at the same time struggling with the lock to the door, shaking the knob with no fruition until finally pushing it open.

You cast a glance over your shoulder, viewing the empty house that now suddenly seemed much darker than before – ears going deaf with the rush of blood in your head, pumping thick from the panicked beating of your heart.

Taking a rushed springy step without yet facing forward, you had your mind set on running to the neighbors, only – instead of bursting out into the open street, you were sent back into the house – stumbling until you hit the floor with a wince.

Your phone slipped from your hand – not only crashing to the ground as hard as you did but smashing into a broken mess as well – now utterly useless.

A dark-cloaked figure stood at the threshold, taking up the entire frame.

“Silly bitch.” He said nonchalantly, stepping inside – shoulders broad and boots heavy with his face covered by a white mask. Then he laughed, raising a large knife that made you scurry back. “Didn’t your mama ever tell you not to let strangers inside the house?”

tip-jar: Kofi

Part 2 coming soon...

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maboiisuga

9 months ago

TANGLED IN YOUR TRANCE • M.LIST

𖤐 TOMA HIRAGI X READER 𖤐

Excerpt: He’s kind of intense, deep frown permanently etched onto his face, popping pills like candy. Usually dressed in perfectly tattered T-shirts and leather pants, his hair is bleached and spiked, one of his eyebrows is pierced—looks like he plays guitar in a metal band.

Which he does.

He isn’t your best friend. You’d barely call him an acquaintance. But there’s an unspoken solidarity between the two of you right off the bat that eventually grows into something more.

Tags: metal band AU, stepcest, stebro!hiragi, stepsis!reader, (but they meet as adults-ish), fem-bodied reader, time skips, explicit content, drug use, violence, jealous/possessive behavior, slow burn, some angst, processing feelings over time, explicit smut, added warnings before each chapter, no set update schedule

READER TAGS: fem-bodied, punk/emo aesthetic, some clothing described (skirts, fishnets, crop tops), a little mouthy, shorter than Hiragi (descriptions of looking up at him, him looming over you), hair vaguely described (no texture descriptors but having it being up in buns or down and straightened, etc.)

Note: music AUs have always been a favorite of mine thanks to all the bandom fic I used to write. Divider credit: @adornedwithlight. Fic title and chapter titles are all Sleep Token lyrics. Part of The Bofurin Brothel’s Music Notes collab! Enjoy and tell me what you think~

01. YOU AND I ARE CRASHING COURSE

02. JUST TAKE AIM; BREAK ME APART

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maboiisuga

1 year ago

"Hey, Kook, seriously, this is not a good idea," you mutter, nervously nibbling on your bottom lip. Your gaze flickers back to your house, nervousness swirling within you.

Standing beside Jungkook and his–very scary–motorcycle, you can't help but feel a tinge of guilt tingling through you. You hated going against your parents rules...

"They won't even realize you're missing, sugar" Jungkook reassures you, his hand casually resting on your hip, his touch bringing a safe warmth to your side, making it hard to resist his proposal of a late night drive. "it's already late, and all the lights in your house are off, they won't even notice you're gone"

You glance at the familiar surroundings of your home, the huge tree in front of your window, the small but pretty fountain in your garden..., contemplating the consequences of your decision you sigh, crunching up your brows–you know that it's good to break free from the boring routines; to experience life.

Your heart races with fear, but as soon as you feel Jungkook's grip tighten around your waist, you know it's time to break free even if it was just for a few hours. With a hint of a smile and a spark in your eyes, you nod at him, signaling that you're ready and all in–at least you hope you were.

"I promise I'll take you back home before midnight" Jungkook smiles "you're not getting in trouble because of me"

"I'm super scared" you mutter, clutching your jacket tightly against yourself as you gaze at the intimidating vehicle before you

"You'll be totally fine, I promise" Jungkook reassures you, flashing a confident smirk. "I mean, I'm sure your parents-"

Cutting him off, you shake your head vigorously. "Nonono. I don't mean my parents," you clarify, pointing directly at his shiny Harley.

"Oh?" Jungkook chuckles, clearly proud of it patting the seat.

"What if I fall off and you don't even realize?" you pout, your eyes wide with worry. "I've only been on that motorcycle twice in my entire life, and each time it was only for like five minutes tops. I can't even imagine what it would be like to be on it for any longer."

You look up at Jungkook, fear evident on your face. The thought of being on that thing for longer than a few minutes makes you want to throw up.

"Fall off?" Jungkook laughs "Sugar, the chances of you falling off this thing while I'm in charge are 0." He shakes his head now looking serious "I won't let anything happen to you. If I knew this would endanger you I wouldn't let you ride it"

"You can never know, Jungkook!" you whine, bouncing on your feet with anxiety. "I mean, I've watched some videos online of people getting really hurt by motorcycles and stuff" you ramble on, but before you can continue, Jungkook swiftly shuts you up by squishing your cheeks together with his hands.

"Hun," he says, his voice filled with amusement, leaning in and placing a kiss on your pouty lips. The cute nickname and the touch of his slightly wet lips make you go weak in the knees, melting into his affectionate gesture.

"You're so cute," he sighs, patting your cheek gently, leaving a faint red mark behind by the way he squeezed them earlier

"Kook," you whine, protesting his actions, still unsure about all of this

But then Jungkook, being Jungkook, cracks his knuckles and leans against his harley. "Sugar, how about this," he proposes with a mischievous smirk. "You get on here, and I'll take you to somewhere really pretty with a nice view. We can grab some snacks too" he suggests, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

"And if–at the end of the night–you decide I was just talking shit" he looks around "I'll dye the bike pink" he finishes

"Fine," you nod "and youll add cute stickers as well"

The wind was blowing through your hair as you desperately tried to divert your attention away from the heart-stopping speed Jungkook was driving at.

You had no idea where you were heading– Jungkook said it was a surprise. The darkness of the night made it difficult to make out anything more than a distant lights and blurry outlines of bushes anyway.

Attempting to ease your nerves, you hum softly, leaning back against Jungkook's muscular shoulder. Your eyes instinctively shut, seeking solace in the darkness, but you quickly snapped them open. Panic in you as you realized that the fear got worse when you couldn't see

So you kept your eyes wide open, stealing glances at Jungkook every few minutes. His face was concentrated, his brow furrowed as he focused on navigating his Harley through the night.

He was so handsome... features enhanced by his piercings, each one adding a certain something to him. You always liked his nose, and his lips–oh, they were just too kissable

It was only when the bike finally came to a halt that your daydream abruptly faded. Jungkook extended a hand as you hot off, your legs feeling slightly wobbly from the combination of the ride and drowsiness. "Woah there, sugar" Jungkook grinned, "you good?"

You nodded, giving him a small smile to reassure him. Jungkook held onto your hand tightly, never letting go as he secured his Harley. "We gotta walk a bit now" he said "Ever been to Namsan Tower?" One eyebrow raised as he waited for your response.

Dragging you along behind him, you hurriedly caught up, your hands intertwined as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Because it was.

"No," you shake your head, "it's a bit too far to walk, isn't it?" You nudge your face against Jungkook's strong shoulder, trusting him to lead the way as you blindly follow him

He hums "Yeah, it's a bit of a walk from yoru home, thank god your boyfriend has a bike" he teases you "It's so pretty, especially at this hour. We can pretend it's all ours for the night" he chuckles nudging your hip to get you to look up

When you do, it takes your breath away. From this point, you could overlook the entire city, lights stretching as far as the eye could see. It leaves you speechless.

"Woah" you sigh

"Pretty, isn't it?" Jungkook sighs, his arms wrapping around you from behind as both of you take a moment to fully absorb the scene

"Like you," he murmurs softly after a while.

Confused, you turn to him "what do you mean?"

Jungkook takes a deep breath, wanting to choose his words carefully "it's almost as beautiful as you, sugar" he confesses, his arms holding you even closer "I wanted to bring you here to show you just how I see you through my eyes" He nods, silently reassuring himself that he's expressing himself correctly, just as he practiced in his room before he came to pick you up

"In my eyes, you're like a million sparkling stars" he admits, his vulnerability shsining through. He hopes that his words won't seem strange or weird, but rather sincere. To his relief, you don't find it weird at all.

"Really?" you ask, a hint of shyness in your voice, your small hand gently playing with his much larger one.

His gaze softens as he looks at you from the side. "Yeah, really" he confirms, his voice filled with determination. "I can't help but think of you, all the damn time, and right now...I just...I want to kiss you so fucking badly"

"Why don't you?" You giggle "I'm right here" you nudge him playfully only for him to lean in and do just that, kiss you.

His lips are unsurprisingly soft and slightly moist as they touch yours, they feel different. It's more sensual, more longing more...loving? It's a moment that catches you off guard

Did his kisses always feel this...good?

Of course they did you shake the thought off

But thsi felt different

Jungkook breaks the kiss after a few seconds, his brows furrowed as they stare into yours

What are you doing Jeon? Jungkook thinks to himself

Why are you feeling like this? Why are you so worked up after just a kiss?

As your lips part, you're left breathless. Looking into his eyes that tell so much more than they did before.

"Kook...-"

"Wanna to grab a snack before I take you back home?" Jungkook interrupst you, clearing his throat, his smile lighting up his face as he helps you stand up

"Sure" You nod still a bit caught off guard a small smile on your face as you look around "but there's not much going on around here"

"There's a 7/11 pretty close by, I'll buy you one of those fancy ice teas you like" he nods towards the direction of the store smirking

"You think they'll have the blueberry flavour?" You ask lips pursed as you decide to ignore what just happened. Thinking about how much you enjoyed it when Jungkook passed by one night and brought one with him. You instantly fell in love with the newfound flavour.

"I'm sure they do, and if not we'll just drive to another one until we find it"

"You're telling me you've never had boba before, sugar?" Jungkook asks confused, his voice filled with surprise as you both stand in front of the closed boba shop

"What is it then?" you pry, taking a sip of your blueberry ice tea and gazing at him with your wide, curious eyes. Jungkook shakes his head, a playful smirk dancing on his lips.

"It's ice tea, or actually, you can make it with any drink, I think... Coffee too....I think," he nods, confused himself

"And then you just add flavored pearls to it. Some are apple-flavored, some cherry. Oh, I know you'd fucking love the strawberry ones" he adds, unable to resist pinching your side.

A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, enjoying the innocence and curiosity that always radiates from you, it made him feel like the world wasn't bad after all...

"Ah, so it's basically a drink for when you're bored?" you chuckle "so you can play with the little pearls in your mouth?" You ask

Jungkook nods, unable to hide his amusement. "Uh, yeah, something like that," he agrees, a soft smile gracing his features.

"I just thought you'd know about it since... well, I don't know, you give off the vibe that you'd like it," he explains, his voice laced with affection as he grips your hips tighter walking towards his bike with you.

- In the studio -

"Seven and eight and nine and-" Mrs. Chuu's instructions echoed off the walls, it was another solo class today, which meant all eyes—actually just Mrs. Chuu's—were focused on you.

Despite the pressure, you found these classes much more enjoyable. They allowed you to express yourself more freely, cracking jokes, and even sharing tidbits about your life, and about Jungkook—though conveniently leaving out his boxing activities, knowing it wouldn't sit well with Mrs. Chuu

As the class winds down, you let out a sigh, relieved that you could finally sit down. Mrs. Chuu starts tidying up the room, humming a tune under her breath when suddenly, she turns to you with a curious smile. "You've never told me what he does, by the way, dear" she says, "that boyfriend of yours"

Glad that she isn't looking directly at you, you bite your lip, contemplating how to answer. "Oh..." you begin, hesitating slightly. "Well, he's... uh... he's...he goes to the gym a lot" you respond, hoping she would accept that answer

Mrs. Chuu's face lights up with understanding "oh, so he's like a personal trainer?" she asks, trying to fill in the gaps.

You nod, "sorta," you reply, biting your lip as you try to maintain the act

In that moment, relief washes over you. Mrs. Chuu's assumption offers a coverup, allowing you to keep Jungkook's true job safely tucked away.

You appreciate her concern and interest, but revealing the truth about his boxing stuff would only make things worse

With a grateful smile, you start helping Mrs. Chuu in tidying up, thankful for her belief of your half lie

"So when am I meeting this handsome young man?" Mrs. Chuu asks and you almost spit out the water you were drinking. Quickly swallowing you clear your throat "uh-oh-" you struggle with your words

"Dear, he's probably wanting to pick you up sometime, and just like I know you, you won't let him" Mrs. Chuu teases, finishing up cleaning.

A lump forms in your throat as you swallow nervously. "Um... Mrs. Chuu, heh...my mom doesn't know about us yet... that's why" you manage to say, your smile awkward

Mrs. Chuu's expression shifts to surprise "Still not?" she asks, genuinely taken aback. "Are you dating a criminal or something?" She teases

A weak chuckle escapes your lips, but you choose to remain silent, not ready to say further

Sensing your hesitation, Mrs. Chuu's tone softens. "Come on, dear. He's your first boyfriend. Your mom would be delighted-" she suggests, however, your plea interrupts her sentence.

"Please don't tell her," you shriek, urgency evident in your voice.

Mrs. Chuu straightens up, her posture more attentive than before. "I wouldn't ever," she assures you, "your secrets are safe with me" she adds

"Good afternoon," a guy interrupts, walking into the studio as if he owned the place. His confident way catches your attention immediately. He looks insanely good, dressed in an all white outfit with some touches of black here and there. It's evident that he has an eye for fashion, which brings a smile to your face. His blonde hair, with just a hint of black roots, adds an extra touch of uniqueness

"Ah, Jimin-ah, you're very early today" Mrs. Chuu greets him with a warm smile. You stand there, feeling a bit awkward, observing their interaction shyly. Approaching people has never been your strong suit.

"I am" Jimin answers and then turns his attention towards you, surprising you as he extends his hand. "You must be y/n" he says, his voice carrying a friendly tone.

Your smile widens as you confirm "I am. You're Jimin?" you find reassurance when he nods affirmatively

"The one and only," Jimin jokes, his tone lighthearted.

"Hes the intern i mentioned tk you a few weeks back" Mrs. Chuu introduces him, explaining how her back troubles had limited her ability to manage things around the studio. You nod in understanding, gently rubbing her shoulder in a comforting gesture

She was really like a grandma to you, and you loved it

"I thought you said it got better? Do you need me to get something for you?" you ask, concern lacing your words. However, Mrs. Chuu quickly dismisses your offer. "No, dear, that's what Jimin's here for now" she reassures you with a smile, and Jimin joins in with a warm nod

"Oh" you nod, relieved by the reassurance. "That's good, then. I don't have to worry about you anymore?" you tease, earning a small pat on your arm from Mrs. Chuu with a disapproving look

Mrs. Chuu continues, sharing more about Jimin. "He's going to the academy too. I got him a scholarship in return for his help" she explains proudly "He's a great guy."

Jimin's cheeks tint with a blush, while you simply smile at him

"So, are you in my class now?" Jimin jokes, as he starts to prepare for his class of fifth graders.

You chuckle at his remark. "No, no, I just had a solo class with Mrs. Chuu. I'm sorry, I'll leave now" you apologize, thinking it's time for you to make your exit

But Jimin stops you, his curiosity piqued. "Solo? You don't go here?" he asks, genuinely surprised, referring to the fact that the academy doesn't typically offer solo classes to non regular students.

"No, I don't," you reply, shaking your head. "My mom knows some people here, so I'm able to do this. I come here every day" you explain with a smile

Jimin's eyes widen slightly, puzzle pieces slowly falling into place "Ah, I see," he says.

With a friendly smile, Jimin resumes his preparations, and you start to gather your things, preparing to leave the studio. As you take off your shoes and begin massaging your feet, a groan of pain escapes your lips when you come across a small wound you got earlier in the day from a fall. It's nothing too serious, but it feels unfortunate, especially considering you're a ballerina

"Need some help?" Jimin quickly walks over, his eyes focused on your foot as he points towards it.

You attempt to brush off his concern with a smile, but he interrupts you. "I don't accept 'no's.' Come on, let me help you. I'm good with stuff like this" he insists, his smile inviting and warm.

Without waiting for your response, he heads towards the first aid kit located at the back of the room

You glance at your phone and sigh, realizing that you'll have to send a text to Mr. Lin, informing him that you'll be walking home today. It's a fairly long walk, but you find comfort in it, and it gives you the opportunity to listen to some music and unwind

You also see some texts from Jungkook, but decide to answer those when you're out

Returning your attention to Jimin, he comes back holding a small container of cream in his hand. He places it gently on your small cut

"Thank you, Jimin," you smile, your voice filled with sincerity. His willingness to help and made you soft

"You know what?: you laugh "I actually do feel better now...thank you" you smile again

"It doesn't look as bad, but keep an eye on it. You never know what could happen," Jimin advises with a smile before standing back up. "I have around 15 more minutes until the kids arrive" he sighs, settling down on the floor to stretch

You bite your lip contemplating whether to stay a bit longer, the thought of making a new friend excites you.

Taking a deep breath, you gather the courage to speak up. "So, you're a teacher and a student here?" you ask, curiously

Jimin chuckles at your question "yes and no" he responds, his eyes lighting up. "This is supposed to be Mrs. Chuu's class, but she called me earlier to replace her because of her back" he explains, and you nod happily, delighted to have met a new friend. And as minutes pass your conversation continues, you discover shared interests, like favourite food and shows-

"No way you've watched gossip girl?" You laugh covering your mouth "That's so cool! Who's your fav? Be honest" you ask

"Mh, I always liked blair" he shrugs and you nod

"I'm basic, I liked serena" you laugh and Jimin gives you a look making you roll your eyes "she's not that bad" you defend her

Walking down the clean halls, Jungkook's every step echoes throughout the entire floor. Heading past various classroom doors, bits of lectures reach his ears, but his sole focus is on locating room 7—the studio where you always had practise.

Lookig at his watch he sighs–he was in a bit of a rush, hoping that you haven't already gone back home

He wanted to surprise you. He even bought some flowers and bubble tea for you to try. But he had been caught up in some last-minute stuff, making him run behind schedule.

Nevertheless, he's determined to see you, to head to the beach together and have some alone time. The thought of your smiling face and the sound of your laughter echoes in his mind, bringing a small smile to his face

As he turns the final corner, relief washes over him when he spots your street shoes at the door, signaling you were still inside

Thank fuck

Gently pushing the door open, expecting a half empty room he clears his throat, ready to surprise you when he suddenly spots you close–too close–with some guy he didn't know

His eyes narrow as he lays eyes on the scene before him. His jaw clenches tightly, waiting for you to notice his presence, and when you finally do, you...smile? "Kook!" you exclaim, walking up to him with a big smile, ready to wrap your arms around him in a warm hug.

However, your hug is stopped by the sight of the flowers and bubble tea in his hand. "You got me flowers?" you pout, looking up at him with an adorable expression "that's so cute"

Instead of reciprocating your mood, Jungkook's expression remains stern. His frown is not directed at you, but rather at the guy who had been way too close to you just a few seconds ago. His protective instinct kicks in, and he can't help but feel a bit of jealousy

He takes a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down before speaking. "Yeah, I got you flowers," he says, his voice tense. "But who the fuck is this guy?" he asks, nodding subtly towards Jimin who just laughs making Jungkooks frown deepen

You follow his gaze and your smile fades slightly as you notice Jungkook's displeasure. "Oh, this is just my new friend Jimin" you explain, "We were just talking. Nothing more," smile not really sure why he looked so mad

"Hey man" Jimin greets him only to earn a hard glare from Jungkook

He shakes his head forcing his gaze to soften as he processes your words, a friend.

"Alright, just a friend," he says, his voice now more relaxed. He hands you the flowers and bubble tea

"Thank you, Kook," you say, sincerity shining in your eyes. "I appreciate the flowers and you coming all the way here." You smile

"Of course, anything for you"

Frowning slightly you ask. "Did anyone...did anyone see you?"

"No" he simple says wrapping his arms around you protectively and staring at Jimin with no mercy

Sensing the tension in the air, you decide it was time to call it a day at the studio. Casually reaching for your bag, you shoot a friendly smile at Jimin and bid him goodbye.

Jungkook, always the gentleman, takes the bag from you as you both made your way out of the studio.

Stepping outside, the fresh air greeted you, instantly lightening the mood.

Jungkook reached out to take the flowers from your hands, offering to hold them for you while you tried your drink "So, what's the the flavour?"

"Strawberry."

The beach is quiet, just a few birds chirping away, as you sit perched on a rock, thanks to Jungkook being all sweet and giving you his jacket to soften up the hard ground.

Your head is resting on his shoulder while his hand is all snug around your waist. It's one of those rare peaceful moments you get to spend together until Jungkook breaks the silence

"So, that Jimin guy... he's new?" he asks, trying to play it cool but you can sense the tinge of jealousy in his voice.

Lifting your head, you flash him a smile. "Yeah, kinda... he's Mrs. Chuu's intern," you say, excitement lacing your words. "He's been lending her a hand cause she's been struggling with her back lately. Such a nice guy..."

Jungkook lets out a hum, but you can feel his grip on your waist tightening a bit "I don't get why you don't like him," you say, sitting up a little straighter "he's genuinely nice, you know? He even helped me clean this tiny cut I have on my foot earlier"

That mention of a cut catches Jungkook off guard, and his eyes widen as he straightens up as well now, lookibg at you with concern. "Cut? What cut?" he blurts out, clearly worried.

"Oh, it's nothing serious, just a little scrape. But my point is, Jimin was there for me. If I like the guy, shouldn't you too?" You quickly reassure him "if there was something to worry about, if tell you" you reassure him

His gaze softens, and he tugs you a bit closer, like he's staking his claim. "Alright, I get it," he mumbles, a hint of a scoff in his voice. "I just... don't want anyone else to take care of you like I do."

You can't help but melt a little inside at this. Despite his tough exterior, there's a softness that only you get to see, and you loved how you were special enough for him to show it. Cupping his cheek, you lean in, brushing your lips against his. "You know, Jungkook, you're the only one who I genuinely couldnt live without seeing ever again" you whisper, feeling the warmth of his breath against your skin

The waves crash against the shore, the birds continue their chriping, and here you are, locked in a moment with the boy who makes your heart skip a beat.

As you pull away from the kiss, you both exchange a knowing smile. Maybe Jimin is nice, but there's no denying that Jungkook is the one who truly makes you, feel like yourself

Peering into your innocent eyes, Jungkook can't resist leaning in for another kiss. This time more intense, with a hint of roughness, as his tongue explores your mouth. His hand firmly cups your cheek, keeping you in place, while your own hand rests against his strong chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart

Between kisses, Jungkook pulls away "You're mine," he says, his voice possessive. "And I trust you more than I trust myself," he confesses, biting his lip, clearly struggling with his emotions. "But I gotta be honest, sugar" he continues, his tone a mixture of frustration. "I don't trust any other guys around you. So... don't get mad if I feel jealous from time to time" he sighs

Cute

You can't help but let out a soft giggle, finding his possessiveness oddly cute. Gently caressing his cheek with your fingertips, you respond, "Kook... I know how much you care about me."

"But you have nothing to worry about kookie" you reassure him, your shy smile radiating warmth. "I've chosen and only you." It's true. Despite his reputation, there's a side of him that draws you in, a softness that makes your heart flutter. You feel safe in his arms, knowing that his protectiveness comes from a place of love

Jungkook's tension starts to ease. His lips curl into a smile, and he pulls you in. "I'm a lucky fucker" he murmurs, "But, don't be surprised if I occasionally get a little possessive."

You nuzzle your head against his chest, feeling his heartbeat against your cheek. "As long as you're not fighting anyone were okay" you whisper teasing him a bit.

The gym is packed, as usual, with people busily working out. Jungkook strides through the people, his gaze fixed on his phone, a hint of annoyance flashing across his face. He had sent you a good morning message earlier, but there had been no response yet. You were probably caught up in something, he hoped

Just as he's about to reach the boxing ring, Wendy, with her irritating voice and overly touchy demeanor, stops him. "JK! Long time no see. We've missed you around here" she purrs, her voice getting on his nerves

Jungkook barely spares her a glance, his eyes still glued to his phone "yeah, well, I've been working out at my apartment blocks gym. Couldn't be bothered to see your fucking face." With that, he brushes past her, not wasting another second on her

Entering the changing rooms, Jungkook finally lets out a frustrated sigh. He throws his phone into his gym bag and changes into his workout clothes, his mind still thinkingabout yesterday. You talked about everything, yet he still felt some tension

As he emerges from the changing rooms, the loud hits of gloves against punching bags fills the air, mixed with the grunts and shouts.

Each punch he throws is laced with frustration and anger. He puts his energy into his training, letting his muscles do the talking. The rhythm of his punches is like a release, drowning out the distractions of the outside world

Wendy's mouth hangs open in disbelief at Jungkook's cutting remark. Irene, sensing an opportunity to stir up gossip, can't help but laugh under her breath, earning a slap on the arm from her friend. Wendy's annoyance quickly turns into anger as she rolls her eyes, marching back to join the rest of her clique

"Here" Irene retrieves her phone and shows Wendy a picture–you and Jimin talking at the studio yesterday.

Wendy's eyes widen as she takes in the image, her mind immediately jumping to conclusions

"I made Joy send me this photo. She says Jimin is new, and look how close the two of them seem. It's definitely going to upset Jungkook if we show him this." She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively, trying to catch Wendy's interest

A smile spreads across Wendy's face as she contemplates the idea of using the photo to her advantage. "You know what, Irene? Maybe it's time for Jungkook to forget about her and finally notice me"

Irene chuckles, fully on board with the plan. "Exactly, DyDy! This is the perfect opportunity. If he sees that photo, he might just realize what he's been missing and come running into your arms." The two girls exchange knowing glances, giggling

Little did they know, their little plan wouldn't cause any harm

Kook🩷: Good morning Sugar take it slow today

Today 8 am

You: Morning! On lunch break right now😋

Today 12 pm

You: *Insert lunch picture* made it myself 👩‍🍳

Today 12 pm

Jungkook can't help but smile as he glances down at his phone, reading through the messages you've sent. Your way of texting was the most lovely thing ever, making his heart flutter "She's so cute," he mumbles to himself, taking a sip of water before composing a reply.

Feeling relieved that you're not upset or mad about anything, Jungkook's tension eases. He knew that sometimes his jealousy gets the best of him. But seeing your messages reassures him that you two are okay

As he hits send, a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips.

Kook🩷: looks good, tonight my place?

Today 12:15 pm

Kook🩷: food + movies?

Today 12:15 pm

"Jeon, 1 on 1 match in 5?" Kai challenges Jungkook, interrupting his peace after reading your messages. Jungkook puts his phone back and empties his water bottle, ready to leave for the day

"Nah, man, I'm done for today," Jungkook brushes off Kai's challenge, his mind already occupied with thoughts of you. He starts taking off his shirt, preparing to head home

Kai rolls his eyes at Jungkook's response, clearly unimpressed. "Man, you've gotten weak since you started dating," he scoffs. "You used to be so reckless, always ready to beat the shit out of everyone in the ring. What happened to that Jungkook?"

Jungkook feels anger bubbling in his chest, turning to look at Kai, his eyes burning "Shut the fuck up, man. You don't want to take this any further," he warns, his voice laced with a scary edge.

But Kai refuses to back down, "Fuck, I didn't know you became such a pussy," Kai taunts, rolling his eyes dismissively

In a split second, Jungkook's patience snaps. His temper flares, and he pushes Kai against the wall, trapping him with an intense grip. "Fuck did you just call me?" Jungkook growls

For a moment, the room falls into a silence as the tension between Jungkook and Kai hangs in the air. If there's one thing about jUngkook is that he refuses to let anyone underestimate his strength or question his status in this gym

As his grip tightens, Jungkook's mind races. He knows he needs to regain control of his anger before it spirals out of hand. With a scoff, he lets lose of his grip on Kai

Kai swallows hard, his brave autitute disappearing "Alright, man, I didn't mean it like that," he stammers, realizing the line he crossed. "L-let's just forget about it, okay?"

Jungkook nods slowly "Yeah, let's leave it at that," he replies, pushing him against the wall a last time before turning away

Jungkook walks out of the building, feeling an insane amount of stress. He can't help but light up a cigarette, muttering a curse under his breath.

"For fucks sake"

With each drag, he tries to calm his racing thoughts, but all he can think about is you. Jimin and you.

He hates that he craves your presence, longing the comfort and reassurance that only you can give him

Leaning against his bike, Jungkook's mind races with thoughts of you. He needs you by his side, now more than ever somehow. He didn't know what was happening to him, he knew he liked you, but lately it's been through the roofs.

Inhaling deeply, the smoke swirls around him, "shit"

He exhales, the tension in his body releases with each drag.

His fingers itch to type out a message, to let you know he's coming over but he just can't wait one more second

Gathering his thoughts, he stubs out the cigarette withhis shoe, and takes a deep breath, getting on his bike.

"You're careless and selfish, you can't just be so stupid and get hurt! Ballet is your job! What will you do when you suddenly can't dance anymore? What will I do?" Your mom selfishly yells at you.

You feel like crying, but you try to hold back your tears. You know that your mom is just worried about you and your future as a dancer.

You remember the advice of Mrs chuu who always reminded you of the importance of taking care of your body and avoiding injuries

You sigh

"Look at me!" Your mom yells at you, her voice laced with frustration. You glance up from where you're sitting on your bed, trying to ignore the urge to cry

"Do you understand what a disgrace it would be if you were to injure your foot and couldn't dance again? Your whole life, you've been working towards becoming a ballerina. I've put so much money to get you to where you are. And now, with one careless mistake, you could throw it all away." She sighs heavily

After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, your mother abruptly speaks up, "If you do not want to talk, that's fine," she scoffs, "but you should know that there will be consequences if you continue to make mistakes." With that, she slams the door shut, leaving you alone and vulnerable.

As you try to regain your composure, you hear a knock on the window. Your heart races as you hope it's just the wind. However, when theres another knock, you reluctantly turn around to see none other than Jeon Jungkook himself–his timing could not be worse.

"What are you doing here, Jungkook?" You ask, your voice tired and frustrated. His eyes scan your face and body, and he immediately senses that something is wrong. "Sugar, what-" he begins to ask, but you cut him off.

"Jungkook, I asked you what you're doing here, especially this early in the day! My mom was just in my room and could've easily seen you!" You panic and start to ramble "I don't know what to do! I feel like everything is just spinning out of control. I've been dealing with so much lately and it's all just piling up. I feel like I'm suffocating and I don't know how to fix it." you start crying mid sentence, too tired of having to deal with it all

Jungkook quickly moved to lock the door behind him before anyone could walk in. You couldn't help but feel irritated at his presence. "I needed to see you," he finally breathed out. You let out a sarcastic chuckle and rolled your eyes.

"Well, have you thought that maybe not everything is about you?" you accused him, feeling the frustration from your terrible day bubble up inside you. "I've had the worst day ever and you just barge in here. Can't you see I don't want you here?" you snapped. Despite your outburst, Jungkook stood there, looking at you with concern. He slowly walked towards you, his arms opening up for a hug.

"Sugar..." he said softly, "dont cry- hey" he wipes a tear away "don't cry, pretty girl" You hesitated for a moment, but eventually gave in to his embrace.

As he held you close, you could feel the tension in his body. You knew he was aware of your anger, but he chose to ignore it. Sensing your discomfort, he asked, "Did you have a fight with your mom again?"

You only nod your head in response, burying your face deeper into his chest. Taking a deep breath he speaks up "I'm sorry. I should have at least sent a message letting you know I was coming over." His gentle touch pushed a strand of hair behind your ear, and you felt the warmth of his breath on your cheek.

You couldn't help but feel guilty "no, I'm sorry." You needed him now more than ever.

"I need you"

Humming Jungkook squeezed your side, hugging you even closer "I'm here"

You couldn't help but smile through the tears as you felt his warmth. It was moments like these that made you realize how grateful you were to have him in your life.

As you looked up at him, you couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort and safety. “I think it's cause there's like an invisible string attached to us, and whenever I'm hurt, it pulls you closer to me” you explain and he smiles.

"You think so, sugar?" he asks softly

"I know so"

Jungkook's chest tightened at your words, and he felt a warmth spreading through him. He couldn't help but wonder if what he was feeling was more than just "liking"

Was he beginning to fall...in love with you? Looking into your eyes, he knew one thing for sure–he never wanted to let go of the invisible string that connected the two of you.

1K notes View Post

maboiisuga

1 year ago

not your baby

warnings/tags: minors DNI, f. reader, DUB-CON/NON-CON, abo verse, yandere!Oliver (more like he's unsettling but yk), omega!Oliver, omega!reader, obsessive behavior, forced intimacy, manipulation, drugging, heat manipulation, set in the EPL, mentions of hair being run through (brief), appearances from other bllk boys, implied previous isagi x reader but they're platonic at the time of the fic, I'm still finding my footing on Oliver's characterization sorry about him LMFAO, these tags are not exhaustive word count: 13.4k summary: We are assigned roles but those are not without caveats. As predators cannot exist without prey, Oliver is learning he cannot exist without you.

Yoichi calls you in the middle of the day.

You’ve been staring at your code for the past two hours trying to figure out where it all went wrong so at first, his call is a welcome reprieve. Then he starts talking.

“Rin broke my nose.”

“On or off the field?”

“Off,” comes his disgruntled response. There’s a cacophony of noise in the background and you hear Yoichi hiss as someone presumably touches his nose. “Can you bring me one of my scent blockers?”

You quickly glance at your code and decide to cut your losses and shut down your computer. If it hasn’t been figured out by now, it won’t be figured out for a while. “Yeah. I’ll be there in twenty.”

You head over to his room and make a beeline for his bathroom. You rifle through his drawers until you find his scent blockers. He asked for one but you pocket the whole box.

It takes you longer than twenty minutes to get to the stadium due to traffic but you don’t rush as you walk in through the back. He won’t be able to play regardless.

A staff member leads you to the locker room and after a quick discussion with the assistant coach, she waves you in.

You make eye contact with Yoichi immediately, wincing at the dried blood on his lips and chin. You hold the box up wordlessly as you go to him, already pulling your sleeves over your hand to wipe at his face.

“They didn’t want to clean you up?” you ask, scrunching your nose as your sleeve drags across his skin.

“Wouldn’t let them,” he says moodily. He’s trying not to glower at Rin who is making a halfhearted attempt at remorse by standing in the vicinity of Yoichi. Rin shuffles to the side awkwardly when you give him your full attention. His pupils are blown out and his fingers tremble with his annoyance. He’s clearly still pissed at Yoichi but your arrival has forced him to act like a respectable alpha. And with the way he’s cautiously eyeing you, he probably fears triggering an early heat with how intense his pre-rut is.

The smell of it makes your stomach curdle.

You keep yourself from rolling your eyes in front of him. The education in every country is so bad it would be laughable if it didn’t cause such disturbances in general society.

“You okay?”

Rin’s surprised your question is aimed at him. “Yeah.”

“Rin’s love language is violence,” a deep voice teases, looping an arm around Rin’s shoulders. He tries to shake it off but the guy adds some weight to his hold and forces Rin to take it. His two toned eyes flick over to you, heavily-lidded with interest. It takes you a moment to connect the dots.

Oliver Aiku. Arsenal’s captain along with the national team of Japan. He’s an enigma to you out of all of Yoichi’s teammates.

Stupidly, all that crosses your mind upon seeing him is that he’s tall.

You have known this. Centre-backs are known for their height and strength. And yet, you are still caught off guard.

His smell is distinctly omega but his stature implies an alpha nature. He’s large and imposing, taking up more room than any omega you have ever met. He notices the tilt of your head. Tension briefly lines his shoulders but he forces a nonchalance to his stance. He brings his nose upwards and smells you. Even from this distance, you can see how his focus sharpens and his posture becomes more welcoming, a camaraderie solidifying between the two of you amongst all these alphas and betas.

If possible, his smile widens when he notices what you’ve given Yoichi.

You grimace at the dried blood now speckling your shirt. “You must love Yoichi a lot then.”

“Too much one could say,” Oliver says, earning an attempt at an elbow from Rin.

“Did they fit or is your nose too swollen?” you ask, bending down to look at Yoichi’s nose. They set the break though it still trickles with some blood.

He shakes his head. “It’s too swollen,” he says, wincing as he hands you the bloodied scent blocker.

Oliver intercepts you, tossing the half-used scent blocker to an open locker. It takes more of your focus than you will ever admit to not shy away from him. You know he’s an omega but you can’t shake off how his alpha-like appearance unnerves you. Surreptitiously, he wipes his fingers on Rin. “You came quick,” he says, looking down at you. Somehow, you get the impression you’ve let him down.

“I live to serve him,” you say seriously, pointing at Yoichi.

Yoichi stutters for a second and then groans. “Shut up,” he whines, rubbing his temples. “Did you drive here?”

You twirl your keys around your finger. “Unfortunately.”

“I’ll go with you. My head’s killing me.” He shoots a glare at Rin who raises his eyebrows at him.

“Did they check if you have a concussion already?”

“Yoichi’s too hard-headed for a concussion,” Oliver says. But Yoichi will do a lot for game time and you don’t know if he let them check him probably so you can’t trust his words if Oliver didn’t oversee the checkup. You nudge Yoichi insistently.

“They looked over him. He’s good to go. Except for the, you know, broken nose,” Oliver reassures you. You give him a brief dip of your chin before focusing back on Yoichi.

“Are they going to give you the black mask?”

An excited light enters Yoichi’s eyes. “I hope so. That’d be sick.”

“Maybe you’ll play better and have the fans wish you always had a broken nose,” you muse, grabbing his jaw and moving his head side to side. It’s going to be a shame when he covers his face.

“Think they’ll give me a nickname?”

“Egoist ain’t enough for you?” Oliver says, hands on his hips. Flutters erupt in your stomach. He’s uncomfortably good looking, you realize. The sort where self-consciousness begins to take shape. You leave it be. After all, you’ll either see Oliver enough to get used of his face or you’ll see him so infrequently, the twinge in your gut will be far and between.

It takes a few weeks for you to come to the conclusion that Oliver is kind of an asshole.

He’s friendly enough, more so than most people if you look at him objectively. But still, he’s an asshole nonetheless.

You think you’d like him more if he didn’t make your skin crawl.

Oliver introduces you to the rest of the team and their friends as Yoichi is making his way towards you from the entrance of the coach’s house. Oliver recites your name with a lazy grin and warns them to treat you nicely. You wave shyly at the amount of eyes trained on you, ready to sit down when Oliver continues.

“Though, imagine our surprise when Yo-chan,” you mouth the nickname, endeared, “Said he was moving in with a friend.”

The almost explicit implication doesn’t match the lack of curiosity in Oliver’s expression. But you can feel how the rest of Yoichi’s teammates wait with a baited breath for the confirmation of what they suspected.

You don’t bother to defend you or Yoichi. Their opinions are already set.

“It’s always good to have a familiar face whenever you’re far from home.” Your smile is strained.

“That is true,” he agrees. He elongates the last word as if he’ll keep going and your stomach sinks at the thought. You don’t owe anyone an explanation for why an alpha and omega live together without being a bonded pair.

Yet, Oliver backs off immediately. (His interest only ran as far as he deemed necessary for his team to have.) He seems to have only asked for the sake of the rest of the team and their loved ones. You marvel at how easily he can control the atmosphere and settle any doubts they may have had towards Yoichi. It isn’t common to see an unpaired alpha and omega in such close quarters after all.

“He’s nice, right?” Yoichi mutters in your ear, having finally made it to you. He’s too quiet for anyone other than you but Oliver shifts as if he can sense the compliment. His scent is affable and he sends a quick wink aimed in your direction. He’s got the type of charisma that has people drifting towards him without thought but a firmness that keeps others from coming too close.

And yet, something in your gut itches.

“I guess,” you say eventually. You look at Yoichi’s blue eyes and see the blind trust he holds towards his captain and you amend your statement. “He’s good for the team. A proper captain.”

“Our final wall,” Yoichi says proudly.

You don’t frown necessarily but it’s something close. “Is that his nickname?”

“Yeah. I mean unofficially. The god snake is his other one.”

Creativity is left to the midfielders it seems. “Start with that one. The final wall sounds stupid,” you advise.

“You don’t think it sounds sick?”

“He’s a defender so it’s kind of a given, no?”

He considers this. “I guess. It’s still cool though. Especially considering he’s an—” Yoichi’s mouth shuts.

You brush off the aborted comment immediately. “They usually play midfield,” you hum, regarding the nickname in a different light at the reminder. It’s hard to reconcile he isn’t an alpha given how imposing he is. You sound like a broken record in your own mind for having to be reminded of his secondary gender. That nickname has probably bolstered his image more than any other nickname could have in his position. “Fine. It is a cool nickname then.” Begrudgingly so.

“See? Oliver is cool. He was so intense during that U-20 game.”

“He played?” Yoichi’s made you watch the game a couple of times but most of the guys are a blur in your mind. “Did Sae involve him in any plays?”

Yoichi cuts you an unimpressed look. “Sae wasn’t the only player there.”

Sae was certainly the prettiest, however.

“He was the only omega,” you point out and then correct yourself, “Or so I thought.”

“I told you about Oliver!”

“Yeah but I didn’t know you meant him.” You jerk your thumb in Oliver’s general direction. “My bad.”

Yoichi stares at you and then laughs, shaking his head. “I think your nickname would’ve been ego breaker.”

“That’s so lame.”

He chuckles, steering you towards the snack table. “Sorry, I was late. Traffic got my ass.”

“What did coach have to say about that?”

Yoichi winces. “I have to run twenty extra laps next practice.”

“He’s intense.”

“You don’t even know the half of it.”

The party goes on and Yoichi leads you around. It’s clear to see he’s found a place in this team already. Joy radiates off of him as he introduces you to more of his teammates and coaching staff. You’re met with warm welcomes despite the somewhat frosty beginning. It takes a few teammates for you to find your footing and be able to joke around with Yoichi properly. After some time, he’s whisked away. There’s an apologetic pat on your back before you’re left to your own devices. With your skin prickling with self-consciousness, you sit on the couch and try not to look as out of place as you are. You’re replying to a text when you feel the couch dip beside you. A familiar scent tickles your nose.

“Yoichi abandoned you?” Oliver doesn’t give you a chance to respond before saying, “First, he’s late. And now he’s leaving you to the wolves.” He whistles. “That’s two strikes.”

Your tongue presses against the back of your teeth. Your irritation sparks but you douse it. He’s only making conversation, that’s all. “Three.” You hold up said amount of fingers. “He forgot to bring the wine.”

“Coach isn’t impressed by stuff like that,” he says and then grimaces. “Believe me. Some of the kids have tried.”

He’s not that much older than the rest of the squad but you bite back your smile. You incline your head in agreement. “But his wife would appreciate it.”

“Schmoozer, eh?”

“What can I say? I love to see beautiful women smile.”

That gets a proper laugh out of him. “Yeah, alright.”

Silence lapses between you two yet you don’t try to break it. You’d rather Oliver find someone else to talk to especially if this is for pity.

“You enjoying the party?” He shifts so the top half of his body is facing you. Something gleams in his eyes. “Did Yoichi send you that video? The one of him with the bicycle kick?”

“Oh yeah! He did. Did he show you it yet?”

Oliver shakes his head, earnestly looking at you. Immediately you start scrolling through your messages with Yoichi. He’s sent you countless soccer videos alongside mini vlogs of his training so it takes you longer to search for the particular one Oliver is asking about. He sits closer to you, thighs spread enough to encroach onto your space. His shoulder leans into you as he angles his head to look at your phone.

“Hm? Is that it?” he asks, pointing at the video on screen. A video that is clearly not the one of Yoichi he was asking about.

You’re overly conscious of the body heat that is radiating off of him. He’s so close you don’t want to move a muscle in fear of touching him more.

“Give me a second,” you say, trying to lean away in a way that doesn’t look obvious. But he follows you further into your space, going as far as to lean his head down close enough to almost rest his chin on your shoulder.

“Hi. Sorry to interrupt.” You look up to see a woman shifting on her feet. She sniffs the air delicately, a pleased little smile dimpling her cheek. You go a little slack jawed at her beauty. But your interest doesn’t matter as her eyes are not on you.

You inhale softly. Beta.

Risking a peek at Oliver, you see him smile an easy smile at her. There’s a certain amount of unspoken charm to him now, exceeding his normal amount. His posture shifts and you realize this is what Oliver looks like when he knows someone’s interested in him. His vested interest hasn’t been triggered yet but he knows how to play the game. And you suppose from your limited knowledge of him, this is the part he enjoys the most.

You don’t want to stick around for it. You don’t bother with a proper goodbye, not with the way she hesitates to continue talking to Oliver with you still there.

Yoichi is still with Hiori so you make an escape to the very nice patio you could never afford in this lifetime. Surprisingly, there is no one else out here.

Relief sags your shoulders. The air is balmy and weighted as if to remind you of how hard this all really is. Everything about London is so different you feel like a fish out of water. It’s been a few weeks but you are no closer to adapting to this environment than you were when you first step foot in this city. Yoichi has more friends than you realized within the English league. What are you even doing here?

“Fuck,” you mutter. You should’ve told Yoichi you’d come until he adjusted to London rather than move in with him.

You turn to see if Oliver’s made any progress with that beta. He’s smiling at her indulgently, head tilted as if he’s listening intently. But his eyes keep sliding towards your direction and his placid smile twitches each time he does so.

You bite on your cheek. He’s such a strange man. It’s a wonder Yoichi has him so figured out because you cannot get a grasp on him. And you keep failing whatever tests he’s concocted in his mind and it’s driving you up a wall calculating your words the way you are.

You scroll through your phone for a lack of something better to do, praying Yoichi puts you out of your misery and tells you he’s ready to go home.

“Oh.”

Flinching so hard you nearly toss your phone onto the ground, you whip around at the voice. It’s Rin.

He’s schooled his face into something neutral. He shuffles backwards and then decides you don’t own the patio and comes closer. Rin doesn’t stand by you but he lingers around you politely. It’s so reminiscent to how he acted when he broke Yoichi’s all those weeks ago you have to laugh.

Your throaty laugh startles him enough to narrow his eyes suspiciously at you. “I don’t bite,” you say.

He weighs the choices you’ve put into his hands and then faces you. “I know.”

“Hi Rin,” you say, enunciating the two syllables expectantly.

He repeats after you. “How are you?” His arms are crossed over his chest. The corner of your mouth twitches. Oh, it’s such a burden for him to make small talk.

“I’m a little stressed out but you know.” By the blank look that enters his eyes, he doesn’t. Though, while it may be mean to think, Rin tends to have an empty look on his face whenever soccer isn’t involved. “How are you?”

“Fine.”

Silence fills the space between you two and after a while, Rin begins to face forward but you won’t let him off that easy.

“So you’re on loan?” you prompt, earning back Rin’s attention.

He nods. His lips thin as if he’s pouting but trying to hide it. “Sae figured I’d have an easier time grasping this system first and then playing for Real Madrid and coach agreed.” He tips his head upwards so he’s looking at the dark night sky. “And here I am.”

“Has it been good so far?”

The loan system is unfamiliar despite Yoichi explaining it to you every time you ask. You can’t wrap your head around playing somewhere for a season and then coming back to your original team. Is there no fear of swapping hidden tactics? Or leaking locker room exclusive secrets? Or worse yet, falling in love with a team you know you are destined to be at for only a short amount of time?

“I like here. Not more than I like it at Real Madrid but it’s fine,” he says.

“Is it for the full season or…?”

He drops his arms from their crossed state. A brief stint of regret makes his lips purse as he says, “Full season. Seemed stupid to go for only a couple months.”

If Rin hates it here, these next seven months will be hell. But if he falls in love with Arsenal, the end of the season will be brutal. You don’t think you could handle the uncertainty.

“That’s tough.”

“If it’s what it’ll take to be the best, I don’t care.”

You don’t know how Yoichi made it out of Blue Lock with enough of his sanity intact to masquerade as a functioning human being if this type of person is who he was surrounded with for months on end. You don’t doubt Ron’s love for soccer but Yoichi’s particular brand of intensity has you wondering if Rin will be devoured in a different way this time around.

So you pivot. “Your rut go okay?”

From Yoichi you know Rin had to go on a stronger suppressant. The stresses of moving teams and subsequently countries shifted his hormones enough to make him more susceptible to his pre-rut. Yoichi immediately started taking a higher dosage to mitigate a similar reaction and he’s been grumpy as a side effect. Rin is grumpy as his default so you can’t tell if anything has changed for him.

Rin is quiet for long enough you begin to wonder if you overstepped. Then he says, “It was fine. Standard.”

“I hope Yoichi’s is standard,” you mutter under your breath. You’re forcing him to do his own laundry otherwise.

“You take care of Yoichi during his?” Rin’s curiosity is mild but you’ve captured his full attention.

This must be payback for your earlier question. “Not anymore. It’s easier if we don’t blur those lines.” You leave it at that.

But it piques Rin’s interest further. Unconsciously, he leans towards you. “So you go to another alpha during your heat then?”

That makes your eyebrows raise. There’s nothing suggestive other than his wording but you take advantage nonetheless.

“Why? You offering?” you tease, laughing when Rin tenses up.

“I wouldn’t—shut up,” he snaps, turning away from you. But you don’t miss the way his ears redden with his newly cut hair giving way to the sight. You laugh harder. He set himself up.

“Relax, you baby. I don’t even like alphas,” you say.

“You don’t?” He doesn’t mean to sound like he’s accusing you of lying but distrust lies heavily between those two words.

It curbs your good mood. “Would you?”

“But biologically—”

“Technology’s advanced these days,” you cut in sharply. He’s young but not so young to be this ignorant. “Just because something is idealized doesn’t mean it’s the only correct way to deal with a heat.”

A charged quiet lies between you two. And then, “You’re right. I didn’t mean it that way but I guess there’s no other way it could be meant if I say it like that.”

You loose a breath. “It’s fine.” And then you peek at him. An admonished Rin is a little too irresistible even for you. “But if you are offering…”

He turns back around with a glare. “Don’t.”

You hold your hands up, a grin tugging at your mouth. “I’m just saying I wouldn’t mind,” you sing, faking a step back when Rin’s glare intensifies.

“Wouldn’t mind what?”

You both twist at the familiar voice. Oliver ducks his head underneath the door frame as he steps onto the patio. He’s got an impersonal smile you don’t think he realizes you can pick up on spread across his mouth.

“Rin as my heat partner.” “Nothing.”

If looks could kill, Rin would have set you on fire right about now.

“Okay, I’ll stop.” You yield. No wonder Sae can’t stop pushing Rin’s buttons. If he looks this cute with just a little poking, you think you’d do the same.

You go to share a teasing look with Oliver but to your surprise, he looks thrown off. He recovers quickly, that same impersonal smile pulling at the corners of his lips again, and he says, “Yo-chan’s looking for you, Rin.”

Oliver notices your slight pout and smirks a bit. “Guess you’re stuck here then.”

After a moment of staring, Rin nods at you guys before heading back into the house. He looks back, a small wrinkles between his brows before he shakes it off and disappears into the living room. You’ll give Yoichi some more time before you head out. You don’t think you can last much longer trying to scramble for conversation topics.

“Rin would be an awful heat partner,” Oliver says suddenly. “Selfish.”

The sudden comment forces you to let out a flabbergasted laugh. “And you aren’t?” Your eyes widen at the slip of tongue. That is not at all what you would have said if you actually too more than a second to think. “Sor-”

“I’m not,” he says after a moment. He’s not offended so his tone is very matter-of-fact. “I could show you if you want.”

His voice is lined with just the right amount of flirtatious to not make you feel stupid if you do say yes. But you can’t take a guy like Oliver seriously. His reputation precedes him and you’d rather go with what you’ve heard around than what you’ve heard from his friends when it comes to this aspect of his life. Not that Yoichi spends an incredible amount of time explaining those specific details but Yoichi is privy to an Oliver most do not get to know, you included thus far.

“Pass.”

“Oh come on, baby. I could show you a good time,” he says almost reflexively. The flirtatious note in his voice gives way to joking which you appreciate much more.

Though, the endearment tickles the wrong part of your brain. And your mistake is you don’t nip it in the bud immediately. He notices the way your shoulders raise up to your ears a bit at the pet name. And his smile broadens.

“Not your baby,” you reprimand. “What did Yoichi need Rin for anyway?”

Oliver blinks and then grins conspiratorially. “He didn’t. You just looked like you were giving Rin a hard time.” At your disbelieving raised eyebrows, he pats his chest. “I have a bleeding heart.”

He makes you giggle. It’s awful. And what he said is not even particularly funny. You just like the idea of Oliver coming to save Rin because you know Rin would rather eat his own foot than have someone swoop in to help him out.

“Captain my captain,” you recite mockingly, saluting him with two fingers. “It’s cute they all call you that.”

Oliver sucks in his cheek. “You think so?”

The respect Oliver has earned from his team is admirable considering how young he and the squad are. The older members defer to him as well without resentment, content to shuffle the responsibility over to him. “Yeah.”

He brings his hands up to rest on the back of his head. He’s so large his elbows dip into your space but only slightly so you don’t back away. The sleeve of his shirt tightens underneath the swell of muscle, seams straining. You quickly divert your attention to his face. Luckily, he’s focused on the sky, lip tucked underneath his teeth. He makes a sound of agreement but it lacks any substance.

“You don’t think so?” You can’t help to ask.

“No, it is nice,” he agrees, though he opts to not address the choice of word you used to describe it. His voices deepens into something wistful. “You just reminded me of something.”

You don’t ask for clarification and he doesn’t offer it. You don’t like him anymore than you did at the beginning of the night but you think you are seeing what it is Yoichi is talking about when it comes to Oliver.

Weeks pass and you see Oliver more often than you think you should.

You slip out of your shoes, nose wrinkling at the vaguely familiar scent floating from the living room. Peeking your head around the corner, you see a mop of dark hair and then you see the body it’s connected to.

Oliver sits languidly on your couch with his shirt half up his body. You eye the curves of his stomach and waist getting a grip on yourself and put your shoes in their proper place.

“Hey Oliver,” you say once you step into the living room.

He doesn’t startle, clearly having smelled you as soon as you walked in, and gives you an indulgent smile. His clean scent wraps around you in some semblance of comfort but it only serves to make your skin crawl at the casual intimacy he’s thrust upon you. But you work to control your own reaction, careful to keep your own scent from becoming bitter through sheer will alone. “Hope it’s cool Yoichi let me have the code,” he says.

Your eye just about twitches. Omegas are not plentiful so it makes sense why Yoichi assumes you would be okay with a fellow one flitting in and out of your home if he feels comfortable enough with Oliver. But the lack of heads up irks you. You also understand he feels a sort of kinship to Oliver, born from his Blue Lock game against him all those years ago, and assumes you won’t make a fuss as you aren’t ought to do.

Your tuck your bottom lip under your teeth, worrying the skin. Yoichi would be right to think that. You trust his instincts, but you trust your gut as well. And you don’t trust Oliver for some inexplicable reason.

“I mean, you have it now, so,” you shrug, neither an agreement or accusation.

He watches you and then he nods good-naturedly. “He said he’s gonna be late for dinner. Should we order something?”

Your teeth bite down harder on your skin. So he won’t be leaving any time soon. Fantastic.

“There’s a pho place down the road if you’re fine with that?” you offer hesitantly, hoping it’s a food he hates.

His smile widens enough to show his top row of teeth. “Sounds good. Let me know the name and I’ll order. My treat,” he adds unnecessarily.

It takes half an hour for the order to come. Oliver spends it trying to sneakily get you to join him on the couch to watch some reality show he’s been into lately. He’s frustrated with your denials by the time you have the bag in your hand. You cut him some slack and bring the food to the living room. Only then do you take a seat on the couch at a casual distance from him, curling up your legs and setting your pho on your lap.

“You find a heat center yet?” Oliver asks, sucking up some noodles.

You tap the container with your nails and then shake your head. Heat centers aren’t your preference and you say as such. Unlike Rin, he’s a fellow omega so you feel less guarded telling him this not-quite taboo.

He looks a little surprised. “You handle them yourself?”

Shrugging, you say, “Mine are pretty mild so there’s no need. If it gets really bad, Yoichi helps out but,” and you trail off, embarrassed you shared so much so without thinking. Aiming to shift the topic, you ask, “Do you usually use heat center?”

He chuckles and steals a piece of beef out of your bowl. Through a swallow, he says, “Nah, not really. We have mandated heats during the season so there’s no need. Yoichi said yours were pretty irregular so I was just wondering.”

You hide your grimace behind a spoonful of broth. Leave it to Yoichi to leave your personal business on the table. “Is it tough having your heats regulated like that?”

Oliver chews thoughtfully. From Yoichi you know that alphas can keep playing well into pre-rut. The idea is that the quickness to aggression stemming from the hormonal imbalance will aid in their game. The safety concerns do not matter as long as the league gets an explosive game out of the thinning patience of their alpha players and so certain precautions have to be exerted by the players rather than be regulated by the league. Yoichi tends to play with a mild scent blocker even at the cost of it affecting some of his playing style. One three-match ban was enough to keep him corralled.

There are so few known omegas in all of soccer, and especially in the English league, that you don’t think there are any leniencies when it comes to heats. A low grade preheat forced your old company to send you home in fear of inciting the alphas so you can’t imagine the league handles heats any better.

“It’s necessary,” he says finally, shrugging. “I guess I’ll find out if it was a bad call in a couple years.”

In professions like his, mandatory heats are a necessity though there isn’t much research to support they aren’t harmful. Summer break is when they’re allowed off whatever medications their medical team has deemed needed but those pitiful thirteen weeks aren’t enough to regulate their hormones.

You’d feel worse for him if he wasn’t getting paid millions to kick a ball around a field.

“That sucks,” you say but not without empathy.

“Could be worse. They could’ve banned us outright.”

It was only in the last twenty years omegas were publicized in the athletic world. Oliver is one of few who hasn’t hidden their secondary gender behind one more favorable.

“Could be better,” you sigh, pushing your bowl towards Oliver. You hate that he has to take his wins where he can scavenge them. “I guess having a schedule for them can be kinda nice,” you admit begrudgingly. Only in recent years have your heats stabilized enough to be expected at a similar time every two months.

“It makes life easier,” he agrees. Oliver abandons his empty bowl for yours. You will never have to worry about leftovers so long as you remain surrounded by professional soccer players.

“Mine used to be so irregular and so intense. It’s insane they let alphas play almost to their rut if those ruts are anything like what my heats used to be,” you say, leaning back on the couch. The league would rather be demolished than lose money in the name of player safety. You mentally shake your head. Those sick bastards.

Oliver chews on his food. He swallows and then says casually, “If you ever need a partner, just let me know.”

You’re so stunned you can’t speak. There’s a dry patch where your voice should be. He goes on, shifting his position to face you. “Doesn’t matter when. Promise.”

When he moves closer, the room feels terribly small as if dwarfed by this abrupt unsettling intimacy. He only needs to put his hand on the other side of your waist to trap you and it twitches as if predicting your train of thought. You wish he wouldn’t reach out his hand like that.

The front door bangs against the wall. You immediately jump off of the couch, uncaring of the bean sprouts you spill. Oliver’s hand drops atop of the blanket.

“You won’t believe what coach had me doing,” Yoichi whines, hand braced on the wall as he unties his shoes.

“What did he do?”

Yoichi launches into his story, scarfing down the pho in between complaints while you listen intently. His eyes bore into the side of your head when Yoichi’s attention drifts to the TV as he talks.

You don’t speak to Oliver for the rest of the night.

“Oliver comes over a lot,” you say unprompted.

Yoichi’s deciding between shin guards so it takes him a second to process what you said. He continues weighing each shin guard in his hand but glances at you, mouth turning up at the corner sheepishly. “Yeah.”

“You know, just because we’re omegas, doesn’t mean we’re gonna get along,” you say to Yoichi with a little more sharpness than is warranted. You close your eyes, wishing you could better keep yourself from taking your frayed nerves out on him.

His gaze drops to the ground and he nods. “I know,” he says, stamping down on his defensiveness. “I just thought it’d be nice if you had another omega around. There’s not many in the league and you don’t know anyone here.” He scuffs at the ground with his cleats. “I don’t want you to be lonely.”

Sticky affection clogs your throat for a moment. “I’m not lonely,” you grumble. But Yoichi sees right through you and reaches out to squeeze your hand. “I have you,” you insist.

“You do. But you should also have someone you can rely on that understands what I don’t.” He ducks his head sheepishly. “Oliver’s the one who told me to put that essential oil in your bath to help with your,” he motions towards your lower belly, “You know.” Yoichi’s been around the block enough to not be embarrassed but the reminder of how he ended up helping you out makes the both of you look to the side.

Whatever it was Oliver told Yoichi to mix into your bath did help tremendously even if it made you lightheaded with desire. You should thank him next time. “You’re right, I’m just being annoying.” Then you point at him. “He should start paying rent since he’s here all the time.”

“You don’t pay rent.”

“Do I make millions for playing with balls?” you point out, sticking out your tongue.

“You know I’m too dumb to do anything but kick a ball around,” he says, tucking his shinguard into his socks.

You mutter, “I’ve met some of your teammates. You are the last one I’d be worried about if you had a different career, believe me.”

He grins at you. “Good thing they’re pretty too, huh?”

“Beauty, brains, and brawn cannot all exist at once. You gotta pick two.”

“And your diagnosis for Rin?”

Your answer is instant. “Beauty.”

“Hiori?”

“Beauty and brains.”

“Oliver?” he teases.

“I plead the fifth.”

“That’s such a cop out.”

It’s the third time Yoichi’s late from work.

Your nose stings from the cold air. Last time, Hiori kept you company while you waited. Out of Yoichi’s teammates so far, Hiori has been the one you’ve taken an instant liking to. You’re hoping he’s stayed after again but with your luck, you should expect the worse of two evils.

Oliver tucks his phone into his pocket once he makes eye contact and begins to jog over to you. You quicken your pace to meet him in the middle, a question on the tip of your tongue he answers within the second you’re in earshot.

“Coach is talking to Yo-chan.”

“Ah,” you say, slowing to a stop in front of him. “I’ll wait for him then.”

“I’ll take you home. We can get dinner while we’re at it,” Oliver says easily.

You look towards the stadium doors, a refusal on your lips when Oliver gets one hand on your shoulder and one on the small of your back and spins you around. “It’s going to take a while and he said to tell you to not wait up.”

The obscenely casual touch sends goosebumps down your arms. The sleeves of your shirt scratch against the sensitized skin and you shy away from Oliver. He pauses when he notices you curl into yourself but he doesn’t take his hands off of you right away. His palm slides off of you slowly and then he brings his gloves to his teeth, pulling them off by the finger. He bends down until he’s eye level with you. He peers at your face with a strange look. “Your eyes are red.” He points at them and then lays his hand flat against your forehead. “And you’re warm,” he says to himself.

“Am I?” you ask, bewildered. Your cheeks felt a little flushed earlier but you figured it was because you put too many layers on. You haven’t quite figured out how to manage the London weather yet.

Then he leans towards your neck, sniffing so close to you the tip of his nose caresses your pulse. Your heart jumps at the barely there contact but Oliver is already straightening up before you can scold him.

“I thought your heat wasn’t till the end of the month?”

“Huh?”

He sniffs the air again, face scrunching up. “You smell like preheat. It’s really faint but,” he says, confused, “Isn’t it too early?”

“Why do you know when my heat is supposed to be?” you ask suspiciously. You make yourself scarce whenever your heat approaches seeing as it can vary on the exact day. Some months, you even miss your supposed scheduled time by a week or two. Yoichi is one of a handful of people you allow around you when you’re more than suspecting of it coming up. A misplaced alpha can send you from a manageable state to something unbearable in a split second.

“Yoichi,” he says obviously. “He told me to keep an eye on you at the end of every month just in case.”

Your puckered mouth softens. While invasive and inconsiderate of your comfort, Yoichi is well-intentioned.

“I don’t feel anything,” you say, puzzled. Usually, there would be some discomfort between your legs and a noticeable ache in your lower back. But you feel remarkably fine if only a bit warmer than normal now that he’s mentioned it. “It’s probably something else.”

“No, it’s not,” Oliver says assuredly. His tone is final. “I can smell it.”

“Yeah, but you could also be smelling one that’s a week or two away.” You’re almost certain you are the only other omega Oliver interacts with on a regular basis so it’s not surprise he’s especially attuned to you. Though, you should give Oliver more credit for picking up on the slight shift of your scent given omegas are sensitive towards any minute changes in another omega. The confirmation of it is alarming however. Perhaps Oliver staying over so often and surrounding himself with your scent has signaled something to him.

He gives you a disbelieving frown. “If you say so. I think I have some stuff that helps keep it at bay.” He adjusts his duffel bag to pick through the pockets. Within moments, he produces a small pill bottle. He shakes it at you. “This will lessen the symptoms.” Digging through another pocket, he sucks at his teeth when he finds it empty. “I have one that delays it but I forgot it at home.”

Having taken the orange pill bottle from him, you roll it around in your hand. The pills are small, white, and harmless looking. Curiously, the label is blacked out. The cap is marked off with a green stripe but there is nothing to indicate what he’s given you is what he says it is.

“Do you think I’m stupid?”

Oliver freezes at the accusation. Genuine insult creases his mouth into a line. “What?”

You shove the bottle back into his duffel bag. A laugh catches in the back of your throat at his bafflement. You’re the one who’s baffled. “I’m not gonna take some random pills. You don’t even have these labeled.”

“Why the fuck would I lie to you?” He’s at a loss, glancing from you to the pocket you slipped the bottle back into. “What the fuck? These are my travel pills. We have to have them unlabeled in case I lose them.” Your suspicion doesn’t lessen so he relents. “Fine. Come over and I’ll show you what they are so you can look them up.”

“‘Preciate it but I’ll pass.”

You think he would be less shocked if you outright slapped him than he is at your adamant refusal. His jaw is ajar. “Dude, I wouldn’t—we’re both omegas. Why would I—” Oliver stalls, unable to finish a thought.

“I’m not saying you are trying to do anything. Besides, those probably won’t work on me like they’re supposed to.”

“But you’re not not saying that. You’re implying it.”

Anything that will come out of your mouth will make the situation worse so you stay silent. And it’s silence that follows you home as you drive back alone.

You’re sidelined for six days by an unexpected heat. It’s one that knocks you on your ass. Yoichi is concerned enough to actually offer taking off from training for a day or two to help you out. You shoot him down instantly. His position in the starting eleven is still up in the air and like hell you’ll let your heat keep him from securing his spot.

But then it happens again. Instead of your usual two month break between heats, you find yourself in the same position a mere four weeks later. Rather than you’re normal four days, your heat has now lengthened to last the full week. The effect on your body is immediate. It takes you a while to recover from the unforeseen shift in your heat cycle.

Yoichi puts a hand on your forehead worriedly. You sigh as coolness emanates from his palm. “You’ve been getting sick more often since we moved here,” he says, frowning.

Your eyes flutter shut and you press your forehead a little more insistently to his hand. He lets out an amused puff of air and starts running his hand through your hair, scratching at your scalp. “My hormones have been so sensitive lately,” you say sleepily. “They’re like a live wire.”

His hand pauses. “Do you think it’s because,” and he swallows thickly, “There are not a lot of omegas here?”

You open your eyes to level him with a scathing look. “I have friends outside of you, you know.” You wrangled your anxiety into something manageable and found some omega friends to commiserate with when life in London got too much. They were soothing company but did nothing to worsen nor alleviate your fluctuating hormones so you suspect the fault must lie with you. “It’s gotta be something else. Stress probably.” You heave out a weighted breath.

Yoichi clicks his tongue. “I don’t know,” he trails off, “You weren’t like this when we were in Germany.” You hear his unspoken worry. You had even less of a support system there.

“Don’t worry about it,” you say dismissively. “I’ll probably be back to normal in a couple months. Remember how long it took me to be normal after I got off of birth control?”

Yoichi makes a face at the reminder. “Shit, yeah, that was awful.”

“I’ll be fineeee. No need to worry your pretty little head.”

He goes back to scratching your scalp. “Look, I don’t want to leave you alone, especially since I’ll be having to fly back and forth for a while. Oliver’s injured so he’s out for a couple weeks. I can ask him to check up on you.”

Your answer is a resounding, “No.”

He frowns. “I thought you guys got along.”

You have skirted around telling him how pissed off Oliver has been since you last saw him.You aren’t quite ready to admit you did more than wound his pride, especially to Yoichi. He won’t approve of your scathing distrust for his captain given how unwarranted it seems to an outsider. “Doesn’t mean I want him taking care of me.”

He kisses his teeth. “Seriously? He’s probably better company than I am for this sort of thing.”

As much as his insistence that somehow your cure would be another omega irks you, you don’t want to fight. “Whatever. He’s injured anyway, you should let him rest. I’ll be okay.”

Yoichi eventually leaves to catch a flight after almost calling in to take a day off despite it being impossible for him to do so with his schedule. He nearly misses it with how long he lingers. He tucks you into his bed and makes you promise to at least text him every hour with an update. At your bleary stare, he sighs and mutters, “Forget it. I’m calling someone.” But you’re asleep before his words enter your ears.

Hours later, or so you assume, you wake up. It’s warmer now but the heat is external rather than internal. It’s a comfortable warmth that makes you want to sink into it further and so you do with a happy little sigh.

“Comfortable?”

Your eyes pop open. Yoichi’s blanket is up to your nose so it is his scent that filters through but you know that voice. Peeking over your shoulder, Oliver lays beside you. His head is held up by his hand with an amused smile. The sight of him muddles your already lagging brain so you ask, “Where’s Yoichi?”

Oliver’s smile dims. But he recovers before you can ask him what’s wrong. “He had to go to Spain. So you’ll have to make do with me,” he cajoles.

“Oh.” Right. He almost missed his flight before you fell asleep. “Did he make it already?”

His voice is flat as he answers, “Yeah. A couple hours ago.”

“Ugh, and he called you right after?” you whine with a scratchy throat. Yoichi didn’t even give you a chance to prove yourself.

Oliver continues to run his fingers up and down your back. You enjoy the soothing feel of his skin against yours before reality sinks in. “Why are you in bed with me?” you ask, scooting away from him. This is the type of strange behavior you can’t explain away with any rational though nor use his personality as an excuse for. Who the fuck did Yoichi entrust you to?

“You’ve been getting a lot of preheat symptoms lately,” Oliver says, ignoring you. He wipes away the sweat on your hairline. You tug your blanket closer to your chin, flipping over so you’re facing the wall instead. He laughs at your attempt to ignore him and instead, wraps himself around you. His legs are longer than yours and he throws one of them over you, pulling you to his chest and tightening said leg over your hip.

You want to blame him for why your heats have suddenly become irregular but you know you will sound ridiculous. This stuff didn’t happen before Oliver started haunting your home.

The caramel notes to his scent deepens as he buries his nose behind your ear. The comfort of another person is too strong for you to yell at him or bite at the hand that’s slowly inching to your waist. The latent buzz in your head slows to something manageable.

“All bite and no bark,” he murmurs affectionately.

“Shut up. Get out of my bed.”

“Isn’t this Yoichi’s bed?”

“Su cama es mi cama.”

“I don’t think that’s how it goes,” he says, chuckling.

“What’s his is mine.”

“Mm, still not right.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be helping?” You turn around abruptly to face him. Shooing at him, you gesture towards the door. “Go be helpful and clean the living room.”

He doesn’t move to get off the bed. Instead, he pulls you closer with his leg. “Want me to wear a maid costume while I do it, baby?”

“‘M not your baby,” you snap.

“You’re mine to take care of so,” he shrugs.

You squint at him. “You’re supposed to be injured. You need to take care of yourself first.”

He holds his hands up. “Doctor’s orders were to rest. So we should both go back to sleep.”

“You can sleep. I need to eat something.” Untangling yourself from the blanket and from Oliver’s hold, you get up. The world tilts and the edges of your vision blacken but you quickly steady yourself before Oliver can try and do something uncouth like carry you out of the room. He groans but gets out of bed as well.

“Yoichi ordered soup. It’s still in the kitchen.” He swings his head to look out your door and then waves his hand at you. “Get back into bed. I’ll bring it.”

You don’t need much convincing to crawl under the blanket. He laughs at your quick acquiescence, scratching at his stomach as he walks over to the kitchen. It doesn’t take long for him to come back. Multiple bowls are balanced on his arms along with a towel. He places the soup containers on your desk and sets one of your mixing bowls on top of your nightstand. Water sloshes dangerously close to the edge but he manages not to spill any. At your confusion, he explains, “A cold towel usually helps me out.”

It’s surprisingly thoughtful. “Thanks.” You dip the cloth into the icy water. A shiver runs through you as you place the wet cloth over the back of your neck.

He nods and then picks up one of the books cast aside on your table. It’s a fantasy novel you haven’t gotten around. He taps its spine to the edge of your dresser, kissing his teeth. “You hide your raunchier books or something?” He surveys your bookshelf, analyzing each of the titles with a quick eye.

You lean back on your hands. “No. They’re on my phone.”

“Don’t want anyone knowing what you’re reading?”

You shake your head. “More that it’s easier to read with one hand if it’s on your phone.”

It doesn’t compute until it does. Before he can respond, you make grabby hands at him. “Can you pass me the soup?”

You take the container from him. You wait for him to settle on the bed before balancing the bowl on his thigh. The warmth of the soup on your skin along with the slowly warming towel on your neck is bordering on overstimulation so you make it Oliver’s burden to bear.

“Want me to feed you or something?”

The way you consider it makes Oliver laugh. “You’re spoiled, huh?”

You scratch at your cheek, feeling a little sheepish. “A little bit. I’m used to being babied rather than doing the babying.”

“You baby Yoichi.” His voice pitches strangely.

You take off the wet cloth. He doesn’t have enough time to smooth out his frown. “You jealous?” you joke.

He takes the cloth from you and soaks it once more. With a hum, he wrings it out and places it back over your neck. The chilled water is less intense against your cooled skin but you flinch nevertheless. Flipping his hand over, he rests it on your skin. “If you took those pills I gave you, you wouldn’t be dealing with this. You keep getting sick because your heat’s unregulated,” he says pointedly.

“Aren’t those tailor made with you in mind?” you grumble. You weren’t expecting him to bring it up until after your heat passed.

“Not really. I have to be able to give them to another omega player in case something happens. So it’s specific but not that specific.”

The guilt that washes over you scalds you. “I didn’t handle that night well.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

It takes you a second to string together your words but Oliver waits patiently for you to find them. He’s unreadable but not unreachable. You swirl your spoon in the broth, watching as a whirlpool forms. “The first thing my mom taught me was to never trust anything anyone gives me concerning my heat unless it was from her or a doctor I knew. So I’m extremely distrustful to a fault. Like…it’s to my detriment.” Not that anything excuses you ripping Oliver’s head off for trying to help another omega. “Doesn’t mean how I chose to react is okay. I shouldn’t have ripped into you like that. I’m sorry.”

He lets you sweat for a full minute before nodding. “Okay.”

“We’re good?”

“Yeah, we’re good.” The words are soft, at odds with the almost violent intensity of his lidded eyes. Then he smiles, erasing what you think you saw so quickly you reassure yourself your heat addled brain is filling in spaces that do not exist. “Omegas gotta stick together, right?”

This is the first time you’ve visited Oliver’s apartment.

With the unusual resurgence of your heat cycle, you broke down and asked Oliver for some medical intervention. Yoichi tore into you when you finally admitted what you said to Oliver, appalled you could even think he would try to pull one over on you. His disappointment didn’t last long but remembering the sheer disbelief on his face sends shame sluicing through your veins. Which is why you are in front of Oliver’s door as if by taking the medication you so vehemently refused will absolve you of all sin.

It’s bad timing on your part seeing as Oliver is on the cusp of his preheat but he insisted on you getting some of his extra strength medications to tide you over until you can get an appointment with a heat doctor.

He opens the door. His face is flushed and there’s a pretty sheen of sweat on his skin. He’s without a shirt, a considerable amount of bare skin on display. You can’t help how your eyes immediately zero in on the outline of his half hard cock confined within his sweatpants but somehow you manage to flick your eyes back to his face in record time. His scent isn’t potent yet but it’s stronger than you’re used to. Saliva pools in your mouth as his scent works its way through your system. Something fierce begins to ache in your gums.

He ushers you inside and you slip off your shoes. You don’t have any time to look around before Oliver is crowding into your space.

“Can I borrow something of yours?” he asks quietly.

That question alone is enough to lift you out of whatever haze Oliver’s preheat has put you under. A refusal is on the tip of your tongue until you give his question some more thought. There aren’t many omegas in the league and you’re sure Oliver isn’t close to any of them given how he spends the majority of his time with his omega-less team. It’s natural he’d want something of yours. The relief his presence brought you still lingers so you concede.

Peeking over his shoulder, you see his laundry strewn on the couch. Assuming they’re clean, you nod your head towards them. “Swap with me.”

His eyes brighten and he nods. He goes to grab one of the shirts, allowing you to properly step into his home. With a cursory glance, you note that he’s organized and clean. His taste runs more on the neutral side which surprises you for some reason. He hands you a jersey, some worn out one from a training camp, and waits earnestly. You motion with your finger for him to turn around.

“Aw, no show, baby?”

You give him a withering glare. “Not your baby. Turn around.”

He obliges with minimal pouting. It takes him longer to drag his eyes away from you than it does for him to turn his body around but eventually he’s facing the wall. You quickly strip off your shirt and yank his spare jersey on. Predictably, it’s huge. It’s less comfy than you expected which is unfortunate.

“Here.” You hold out your shirt. He turns back around, grin nearly splitting his face in half. He doesn’t bother to hide the deep sniff he takes of your shirt.

You don’t think you need to warn him considering your scent is more of a comfort thing than something that will stoke his desire but you still sternly say, “Don’t jerk off on it.” At one point, you had to buy some cheap shirts and a value pack of underwear for Yoichi’s ruts so he’d stop using the actual clothes you wear as a cumrag.

Oliver’s eyes crinkle. “No promises.”

“Hilarious. Where’s the medicine?”

“All work and no play makes for a very sad omega.”

You push past him and say over your shoulder, “I don’t think that’s how it goes.”

He’s quick to follow after you. Yet his pace is casual, relying on the long length of his legs to keep you within reach. While you are planning to snoop around your immediate vicinity once he disappears to wherever to grab the medication, you want a glass of water first.

“Where do you keep the cups?”

“There’s a clean one in the sink.”

You find said glass and fill it up with the tap, wetting your dry throat. Sweeping the kitchen with your eyes, you scrutinize how bare it is. He has the bare essentials to make a functional kitchen but there is no personality to glean off of. The only intriguing thing is the line of pill bottles laid out on the counter. You don’t mean to read the labels but they catch your eye anyway. Oliver notices how you stall, transfixed by the medicine bottles lined up on his counter.

“They’re suppressors and inducers,” he says, coming up behind you. His hand brushes against your waist as he goes to pick up one of the glass containers. You flinch at the touch but he doesn’t move. He leans his free hand on the edge, bare chest grazing you and holds the medicine to his eye level. “It’s usually a shot I take but I opted for pills this time around.”

You take the container from him and twist it around. There’s an innocuous sound of pills knocking against one another. It’s hard to imagine these pills are either strong enough to stop a heat cold or strong enough to induce a heat that will keep a player hormonally balanced for three months. They’re more normal than you expected them to look nor do they look like they will be lodged in your throat if you try to take them.

The miracles of modern medicine.

“Why pills this time?” you ask. You try to move away from him secretly but Oliver uses his other hand to pluck the bottle from you, placing it gently back on the counter. Then he steers you towards the living room, cutting an imposing figure behind you as he doesn’t let you try and weasel your way closer to the front door.

He hums. “Just felt like something different.” He’s close enough to you that you can feel the ripple of muscle as he shrugs. He’s huge and he never lets you forget it.

“Isn’t a shot easier?”

“Depends. I don’t really like needles.”

“Wow, Arsenal’s final wall can be defeated by needles.”

And then Oliver’s scent becomes intense, cloyingly so. You can’t resist the urge to bring your hand to your nose to block the smell but you try to play it off as rubbing your nose. He falters, resting his hands on your hips to center himself. Your gums ache once more. It borders on painful so you dig your teeth into the meat at the base of your thumb to keep you from doing something ridiculous like sink your canines into Oliver’s scent glands for a taste.

The taste of blood blooms on your tongue. The salt cuts Oliver’s sweetness. Shit, he’s supposed to be another day or two from a full fledged heat but that isn’t how he currently smells.

“Do you have everything you need for your heat?” you ask worriedly. You spin around, apologetic at how your shift in position makes him whine.

“Why? You offering to take care of me, baby?”

Your worries dissipate marginally at the pet name. “Not your baby,” you remind him. “I thought your heats were planned to the minute.”

“Forgot a dose last week,” he admits. You wince. That was when he was taking care of you.

“Sorry,” you say weakly.

“I’ll be fine. ’S not my first heat alone,” he says casually. “Unless…” And his fingers make indentations into your side. His pupils are blown out with predatory intent. You try to edge away from him to no avail. A drop of sweat slides from his jaw, splattering onto his collarbones and the thread snaps. Your resolve cleaves into two and both sides fall into the abyss.

He’s too close and you’ve let him get too close.

You are not overly sensitive to omegas but Oliver in heat makes you hungry. Swiping your tongue over the remnants of blood coating your teeth, you rip yourself from his tightening grip. You cling to the metallic taste as a lifeline.

“I’ll leave you to it. Have lots of fun. Bye!”

You forget your shoes as you escape. But you manage to keep your, and Oliver’s as a byproduct, dignity intact and that will have to be a worthy trade.

Slamming the apartment building’s door behind you, a cold shiver wracks your body that has nothing to do with the chilled London air.

Turns out, the medicine doesn’t help. In fact, you’re starting to suspect it makes you worse.

After Oliver’s heat finished, you went back to his apartment and took enough meds to last you at least two weeks if you spaced them out. You could only manage to take it for a week before the symptoms became too much for you. There is no one to blame but yourself relying on a quick fix rather than find a medication adjusted to your specifications.

“Captain!”

Oliver’s head swivels to the call, hand already going up in a half-wave at the white haired man heading over to him. He’s of equal height to Oliver with an astonishing amount of muscle. You don’t need to rely on your smell to know he is an alpha.

“He’s an ex-teammate,” Yoichi whispers in your ear as he nods at the guy.

“Ah. Small world.”

You were supposed to be going to watch a movie on one of Yoichi’s rare free days and somehow, Rin and Oliver were roped into it as well. Rin is the last one to arrive so you are all hanging out by the entrance.

The guy trails after Oliver, speaking quickly in a different language as Oliver rejoins the two of you. He’s easy on the eyes. Then his scent drifts to you and a near instantaneous nausea erupts in your gut.

His clunky scent stings your nose. He’s definitely an alpha. You migrate to Yoichi and Oliver, leaning a cheek against Yoichi’s arm to clear your head. His fruity scent is peppered with Oliver’s muted sweetness but you much prefer this to whatever it is the other guy has going on.

Oliver notices how still you have gotten and adjusts himself so he’s closer to you. With a few words, he’s able to dismiss the man and your head begins to feel clearer. But a wrongness continues to cling to you. Yoichi’s scent, while soothing, does not manage to ward away your discomfort.

Rin frowns when he sees how the three of you are huddled and heads over. “What’s wrong with you?”

Oliver waves him off. “Probably preheat symptoms,” he explains away lazily. Rin’s concern quickly morphs into discomfort and he tries to slink out of reach. His hands hover near you but his fingers close in slightly as if he doesn’t know if his touch will be welcomed. With a swiftness that stuns even you, you wrap your hand around Rin’s wrist and bring his pulse to your nose. His icy scent breaks through your cloudiness and the queasiness rolling in your gut begins to recede. “Not preheat,” you mumble. “That guy’s scent just makes me sick.”

“It did?” Oliver asks. A barely detectable hint of glee pulses in his scent.

You drop Rin’s wrist, disregarding his lightly scandalized expression. “That’s never happened before,” you say, more to yourself than as an answer. “I think I’m dying.”

“Shut up.” Yoichi flicks the back of your head. “Didn’t you start some new medication?”

You duck away from him which sends you directly into Oliver seeing as he is determined to be an immovable object in your path. “Nah, not yet. The doctor said I still need to wean off the meds I took from Oliver.”

“But you went cold turkey.”

“…yeah.”

“You’re an idiot,” Rin chimes in helpfully.

“I took them for like a week. It can’t be that bad.”

“You should listen to the doctor instead of doing your own thing,” he scolds. He even wags his finger in your face and you threaten to bite it.

“Come on dude, it was just a week,” Yoichi protests, smacking his finger away.

“You a doctor now?” Rin snaps.

“You don’t need to be a doctor to know it’s probably okay to can go cold turkey on a medicine you only took for a week.”

“Is your head just for show or is there actually a brain in there?”

Rin and Yoichi devolve into their usual arguing. Naturally, Yoichi gets in Rin’s face which leaves you and Oliver to the side like some discarded toys.

“Is it like this in the locker room?” you muse. Rin is one second away from shoving Yoichi’s face from his.

Oliver sighs but amusement twinkles in his eyes. “It used to be worse but now coach said they’re banned from talking to each other before games.”

“Not after?”

He slides out his phone and pulls up a video. Oliver rests his chin on your head, wrapping an arm over your shoulder to hold the screen in front of you two. After your mistake in visiting Oliver during his heat, he’s become much more blatant with his friendliness towards you. You don’t know how to put a stop to it and you fear it is too late for you to make a fuss, having let it become a norm. You try not to stiffen against his touch too noticeably. He scrolls through his camera roll before finding a video of Rin and Yoichi discussing the match, the streaks of sweat and dirt indicating this is after a game.

“Wow, they’re like puppies you have to run ragged to get some peace,” you laugh, zooming in on the disgruntled look on Rin’s face as Yoichi writes something in the air.

Oliver lets out of an amused puff of air and moves his head from atop yours. Instead, he tucks his nose into your neck, skimming the tip against your scent gland. The gesture toes the line of disrespectful and yet no one milling about bats an eye at Oliver. He takes a subtle whiff, tongue darting to lick the salt off your skin before he straightens up. The light warmth from the tip of his tongue renders you speechless. Your hand goes to your neck and you can’t even muster a glare as you try to reconcile that he just licked you in broad daylight.

“Did you jus—”

But Oliver cuts you off by drawing Rin and Yoichi’s full attention to himself, joining in on their now civil conversation. You’re left feeling like the odd one out as you try to make sense of what just happened. He licked you. He fucking licked you.

And when it’s your turn to contribute to the conversation you have heard none of, Oliver simply winks at you over Yoichi’s head.

You start to smell Oliver on yourself.

It’s noticeable enough you’ve begun to receive teasing remarks about it. Yoichi can’t stop laughing at how aggressively you deny the accusations, placating you with ‘mm hmms’ and ‘of course I believe you’.

The teasing is exacerbated by Oliver’s continued presence at your house. Without realizing it, you have started setting out a third plate whenever you make dinner. It’s gotten to the point where some of his training jerseys have made their way into your laundry. You’ve taken to throwing them in Yoichi’s basket to keep yourself from tossing them into the garbage.

It’s infuriating.

“Wanna watch a scary movie?” he asks, watching as you flick through the movies available. Somehow, despite you seating yourself on the very edge of the couch, Oliver has managed to corral himself into being right next to you. His arm is slung around your shoulder having dropped from resting on the back of the couch. He points at some slasher film in the guise of choosing something but it’s only to draw himself closer to you. He’s only just managed to get his thigh pressed to yours when you decide to move to the loveseat instead. He can cuddle Yoichi if he wants to be necking someone so badly.

It’s unfortunate you have to use his thigh as to prop yourself up and the second you push off of him, Oliver curls under your chest and drags you to him. His teeth scrape against your gland and you jump out of your skin. Your elbow ricochets off of his sternum sending an aching pain radiating up your arm and Oliver to the side. He clutches at his chest, more shocked than hurt by your reaction.

“Sorry,” you say automatically and then want to hit yourself.

“What happened?” Yoichi calls out, poking his head out from the kitchen. He’s toweling off his hands with another slung over his shoulder.

Oliver doesn’t acknowledge him. “Do omegas not do that here?” he asks. His eyes are wide with polite curiosity but he isn’t apologetic.

“Omegas don’t do that anywhere!” you say incredulously, bringing your hand to your neck. The skin is sensitized whether it be from your imagination or something Oliver has done.

Yoichi makes a dissatisfied noise. “Oh.” And then he ambles back into the kitchen, uninterested in what he’s deemed omega affairs.

But this isn’t an omega affair. This is something much more bizarre.

“It’s common in Sweden,” is what he offers at your accusing glare.

You don’t know anything about Swedish customs to disprove him so you must remain stewing in your irritation like some chastised child. “Don’t do it to me,” you order. You’re torn as to whether you should be pissed off or frightened by his nonchalance.

“Did it scare you?” he mocks meanly. His tone ices your core.

“Just…don’t do that again,” you mutter. Your stomach knots in on itself and you can’t stand to be here with this sick bastard a second longer.

Oliver seems to realize he’s overstepped into oblivion this time for he immediately drops the teasing cruelty for some derivative of repentance. “I’m sorry. I thought it’d be funny—”

“No, you’re completely right. It’s real fucking funny.” You don’t care if you draw Yoichi out by your raised voice.

Tears well up in your eyes. The frustration spilling out of you is overwhelming, corroding your rationality into hysteria. The sharp edges of the discomfort Oliver has forced upon you skins you layer after layer until all that’s left is a pile of shredded sanity.

You want to go home but this is your home. So you have to leave and force yourself to act as if it is your independence fueling the choice and not cowardice.

“Fuck, I’m leaving,” you say, grabbing your keys. Yoichi’s head is wildly swinging between you and Oliver. Their words are incomprehensible in the face of the blood pounding in your head. You’ve interrupted him but you don’t care to repeat yourself, shaking off Oliver’s hand as you head to the door.

You don’t remember getting in your car nor the drive to the hotel but you do remember looking in the rearview mirror and seeing a nick on your scent gland.

By the next morning, your skin is rubbed raw from how furiously you tried to wash away any traces of Oliver.

You no longer eat dinner at home. In fact, the only times you find yourself home are during Arsenal’s training or right before bed. No matter Yoichi’s pleas, you do not budge. And miraculously, your heats begin to stabilize again.

You link it to the stress you always brushed aside when it came to Oliver. You hardly see him anymore and that alone has done wonders in settling whatever discrepancies he caused in you.

A flicker of heat begins to warm your lower belly. Yoichi is visiting some old teammates in Germany for the weekend so you have a couple of your sex toys laid out on your bed charging. You never thought there would be a day you’d be so relieved feel your regular heat symptoms again. The insatiable horniness that has afflicted you these past few cycles had you worrying for your clit’s safety.

A knock on the door has you flinging your blanket over your toys before you realize how ridiculous you are being. You ordered groceries for the weekend and they must have already arrived. The delivery guy probably already left as soon as he knocked.

You open the door. You are only able to open it enough to know it is not your groceries outside.

“Wait.” And then there is a foot jammed between the door and the frame. You have half a mind to pull the door back and slam with your notably reduced strength just to hear him squeal. Preferably, you would also injure him enough to cause him to be benched for the next four games. But you are a nice person with a gentle heart and a fear of being sued so you keep the door where it is.

“We need to talk. I know you’re mad but it’s been weeks,” he pleads, “Please.”

“Okay.”

He waits. When you don’t move to open the door wider, he says, “Can I at least do this inside?”

“No. Say what you want to say and go away.”

He’s kept a polite distance, despite his foot blocking the door, but now he peeks into the opening. He’s about to speak when his nostrils flare.

Oliver doesn’t bother to keep up his polite facade and practically rips the door off of its hinges.

You stumble backwards, alarmed at his sudden flurry of movement.

“You’re in heat.” He says it as if it’s a shock, as if it’s something you should have informed him about.

“Oliver, you have to go,” you say, rubbing your temple. An ache is festering in you and you can tell it will tip into lust soon. And you do not want Oliver to have the privilege of hearing how you fuck yourself through your heats.

However, he doesn’t leave as you ask. Rather, he shuts the door behind him softly.

“Oliver,” you warn, taking a step back. Fatigue has begun to weigh down on you as your heat begins to spread. The simmering embers start to flame out and you can feel yourself become damp.

In a horrifyingly short amount of time, he’s cleared the distance between you two. He’s got your chin tipped upwards before you can make an attempt for your room.

Oliver’s kiss is both invasive and possessive as if he owns every inch of you. It’s a graceless one, born of need for substance than anything else. But he catches you with your mouth open, the beginnings of an argument on your tongue, and he must taste it for he swallows you whole. He kisses you deeper, practically fucking your mouth with his tongue.

The drag of his tongue is potent in the same way alcohol poisoning can be considered intoxicating.

He backs you into the couch, knees braced on either side of you. Oliver pulls back just enough to let you breathe but it’s a useless effort for he slips you out of your shorts in the next moment. The brush of his fingertips against your wet cunt steals all air from your lungs.

Your fight-or-flight instincts have abandoned you. The fear that should be jellying your knees has become conspirators with your increasing lust. The low heat simmering in your stomach is stoked into a roaring fire as Oliver’s weight pins you down.

His fingers slide in slowly underneath your underwear, testing how far you’ll let him in. You take him to the last knuckle, breath punching out of you when he crooks them. He pumps his fingers in and out of you leisurely and it feels like agony. Pleasure begins to spark at the base of your spine but only the sort that brings forth nothing satisfactory. The ache in you grows worse as Oliver’s fingers fuck you with brutal precision. His rhythm is steady and slow and aggravating. Your push your hips down but all Oliver does is laugh.

“Oliver,” you whine, raising your hips now to see if that’ll spur him into action instead.

His fingers still. You keen at the loss. “Mm?” He’s looking down at you through his lashes, mouth slightly open in awe at how easily you part for him.

You don’t want to ask so you settle with a quiet, “Please.”

“Use your words, baby,” he chides playfully.

Fury roils in your gut at his sadism but it soon dissipates into your overwhelming lust. A searing heat burns within you and you press a pitiful kiss against the corner of his mouth. Everything feels so unbearably hot you can’t stand it. “Please fuck me.” Your shame is hollow when you realize the plea doesn’t taste of betrayal.

His face blanks out before a delirious grin splits his face.

“You don’t know what you need, baby,” he shushes, slipping off his pants. “That’s why you need me.”

Even in your heat-addled brain, you defy him. “I don’t.”

And for an ungodly moment, nothing exists save for the feel of Oliver’s cock against your clothed entrance. “Not before,” he concedes, catching your underwear at the sides and pulling down, “But you will.”

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