#'you said it was a silly AU!' it was before I turned on the angst beam but the silly part is still there ! It just happens LATER

[eryanlainfa]

Updated my notes for the monster AU and it just turned into actual writing again-

"For the past few months he had been preparing himself for his own death, never had he thought he'd bury his lover before himself.

And yet here he was, standing upon their grave, fresh flowers adorning the tomb."

I'M FINE. SO NORMAL ABOUT THEM.

[logaenhowlett]

MY BEATIN’ HEART BELONGS TO YOU - L.H.

Summary: Logan believed he was sentenced to a life of solitude until he found you - an unexpected dawn promising the sunrise of a love he always deemed impossible. But then again, destiny never was merciful to fools like him.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female Reader

Warnings: Soulmate AU, All aboard the Fluff Train with scheduled stops at Angst Station, Established relationship, Hurt/Comfort, How I Met Your Mother reference (iykyk), Reader can manipulate electricity

A/N: 5.9k - strap in, gang. Would you believe me if I said all this was inspired by a debate I had with a friend about the implications of 'I want you' vs 'I need you'. The mind works in silly, little ways sometimes. Title creds to Green Day. Enjoy, you lovely people!

MASTERLIST

Gone were the days when nightmares would rouse him from the sanctuary of sleep. Logan couldn't remember the last time he'd awoken in a cold sweat, sheets shredded from fighting invisible monsters, alarm clock glaring an angry red amongst the darkness. No, all that disappeared once you'd made a home within his arms.

It had been about three months, verging on four if anyone was keeping count - and he, most definitely, was - since you'd swept him away in a tide of fondness and pure affection. The shadow of a man who once roamed the mansion now nurtured a newfound lightness in his heart. Logan wasn't perfect, far from it, chosen paths that only led to a labyrinth of despair, but he was right about one thing: you.

And that verdict especially rings true every morning. The tangle of limbs, the soft ebb and flow of sleepy murmurs, the stray kisses grazing warm skin, he wonders how he'd survived so long deprived of such tender pleasures. He's never going back, that much he knows.

His lips trace a lazy line along your neck, lingering a second longer beneath your jaw. There's a chuckle aching to break through at the thought of your sleep-induced irritation - it’s too early, you'd whine each time. And each time, his half-hearted apologies would be long-forgotten as you meet his gaze, a tempest of desire swirling within hazel.

It's amidst the following moments of peace when he's most thankful for the thick walls surrounding the room. The aftermath of your intimate exchanges always leaves him mesmerised, heart racing at the reminder of your touch. His mutation didn't allow for the full effects of alcohol to poison his inhibitions, yet as your smile gleams at him, Logan's sure he's never been more drunk.

"Where're you goin'?"

He's shaken from his musings as you roll away from his embrace, huffing in disbelief when you don't seem to stop. But, the string of complaints dies on his tongue as he watches you slip on the shirt he'd discarded the night before, turning around amused, "What? You wanna stay here all day?"

"Got nowhere to be."

"Correction - you have nowhere to be. I, on the other hand, need to grade those assignments or Jean'll actually explode my brain this time."

Logan hmphs. He'd been looking forward to lounging around this weekend, positively thrilled at the idea of letting the hours simply trickle away in the quiet comfort of your company. However, he's also one too familiar with Jean's intolerance for slacking off and lessons were definitely learned.

"Let her try," he counters meekly.

As you circle the bed to part ways with a chaste kiss, Logan seizes the opportunity to pull you down, pinning you beneath him in one effortless move. His lips capture yours with a deliberate, sensual slowness - the urgency from earlier now completely absent. The feeble protests vanish from your mind as he breaks away, a twinkle of mischief playing on his smile.

His fingers trace the curve of your wrist, hovering over the faint crescent moon inked in black. It was the mark of your soulmate. Of him, he hopes. You'd shown him quite early into the relationship, spending many a night whispering theories and speculations about its meaning. At first, he expressed only timid fascination, a question here and there spurred by gentle curiosity while you rambled on and on. But as his heart began to tether itself to yours, the mark took on a new significance. Every time his gaze fell upon it, his thoughts would spiral from longing and self-doubt, wondering if he was the one destined to share a lifetime with you.

Over the decades he'd been alive, Logan had searched every crevice of his body for his own. In his youth, it was a fleeting thought, brushed aside by the assumption that his healing factor wouldn't allow for these scars. Yet as time passed, he was terrified of waking up to a branded promise - a cruel trick that condemned his soulmate to a life with him. After he met you, those fears were soon eclipsed by a yearning, a desperate hope for a sign of his worthiness. Every day, he lingered by the mirror, gaze sweeping across his reflection, praying for an identical crescent moon to mark his skin.

"Logan." Your laugh draws his attention, "I'm never leaving the bed at this rate."

"Darlin', that's the general idea."

He relents anyway, falling onto his back with a soft grunt as you stand up. The dopey grin you're biting has him narrowing his eyes in suspicion, wondering what goddamn joke popped into your mind. Before he can question it, you straighten your posture and salute, "General Idea."

A look of confusion contorts his features, though he doesn't get anything besides a mumbled response as you leave the room, "Never mind, it's from a show."

A mountain of papers sits perched on your desk illuminated by the warm glow of the lamp, the scratching of your pen punctuating the silence of the classroom as you continue grading your students' assignments. It had been a couple of hours since you left Logan amongst the nest of blankets. And that image only seemed more enticing with each word you read.

"Missed ya."

Speak of the devil.

Except this devil was an angel - you could almost see a halo shimmering around his figure, backlit by the sunlight flooding the hallway. Every time you think you've captured the essence of his allure, he defies your expectations, often with just a simple gesture. And despite the countless compliments and declarations of adoration, Logan still seemed surprised by flattery, his lips always seeking yours to hide the blush creeping up his cheeks.

"I just saw you like - "

"In the shower," he interrupts, smirk widening as he approaches. He leans against the chair, nose brushing against your exposed shoulder.

Something in your brain short-circuits at his words and the casual display of affection. You stammer a little, "You… didn't tell me."

"Oh, that would've worked hm?" Logan spins the chair around, chuckling as he catches your flustered expression, "'M sorry, sweetheart... guess I gotta make it up to ya."

You never thought Logan was a romantic. Yet, time and time again you discover the depths of his boundless capacity for love and companionship. It wasn't just the whispered promises and passionate revelations, but the quiet moments, the stolen glances, the tender touches that speak volumes. Neither of you had uttered those three words yet, though they hang heavy in the air, unspoken but deeply felt.

His hand winds up beneath your shirt, bunching the fabric near your waist as he pulls you closer. Heat, courtesy of the shower, wafts off his skin, a tantalizing sensation that makes your breath hitch. His tongue toys with your lower lip, teasing just enough that you find yourself chasing after him, desperate for more. The laugh he produces, though smug, is also contagious, a sound that never fails to swallow your heart.

Again and again, he'd professed his desire to unravel you by his sheer touch, how your craving for him sets his insides ablaze. And judging by the way your eyes darken, mouth parting almost reflexively, he's got you dancing to his tune like a puppet on a string - and you wouldn't have it any other way.

But he backs off all of a sudden.

A crescendo of footsteps echoes down the hallway and the moment is shattered. Three of your students barge in, out of breath and frazzled as they clutch their assignments. A frown creases Logan's brow, annoyance he's certainly putting no effort to hide has them second-guessing their intrusion until you beckon them in with a warm smile. With a hasty apology, they fumble with their papers, eyes darting between the two of you before rushing out, the door swinging shut.

"We gotta find a place," he grumbles, dipping forward into your neck.

"We already live together."

A sharp click of his tongue, a playful nip to your shoulder, seals his disapproval, "Not enough. Lil' brats interrupt every damn time."

He wasn't wrong in the slightest. The kids did seem to have an uncanny ability to sense the most inopportune times to interfere. Sometimes you joked that it was one of their mutant powers and Logan, with an amused roll of his eyes, would just scoff and agree. You can't help but chuckle, "'Least it wasn't Scott... I think we traumatised him last week."

It was indeed last week when the two of you retreated to the Danger Room. Of course, with the sole and noble intention of honing your defensive tactics. However, the moment you strategically knocked him off his feet, the situation had taken a decidedly different turn. Pinned beneath you, Logan held a look of astonishment that soon morphed into something much more eager. He'd uttered all of two words before your lips slammed against his and whatever hopes you had for training immediately became the least of your worries. That was until somebody walked in.

He huffs a laugh, the memory filling him with satisfaction, "Should've used his fuckin' brain with those sounds you were makin'."

"Oh god, poor Scott," you mumble, embarrassed by the thought.

"Quit sayin' his name." The growl that curls his words leaves goosebumps in its wake. Logan grips your chin, tilting your head back slightly, a slow grin unfurling as his gaze bores into yours.

"I said it twice!" you protest, but it's all in vain. His thumb drags across your lip, silencing your words.

"That's two more than I care for."

It's dark outside by the time he's done with you.

Sugar melts on his tongue, the velvety texture of chocolate dancing across his palate. Logan takes a rather indulgent sip, the steaming liquid warming his throat. Nestled on opposite sides of the window seat, the two of you share a quiet moment accompanied by nothing but pale moonlight. A comforting weight settles on your feet, his hand kneading the stress away with care. Outside, a delicate snowfall paints the mansion's grounds, grass slowly fading away, droplets racing down the windowpane.

Dinner had wound down hours ago. The kids gathered around the living room after, wide-eyed with wonder as the first snow of the season began. Charles eventually ushered them off to bed, Logan had planned to follow suit until your gentle tug derailed his desire to sleep altogether. And as always, there's no world where he'd deny you anything.

He sees you stifle a giggle every now and then, your eyes twinkling with amusement each time he lifts his mug. It was nothing fancy - mostly white, adorned with a line of stockings and, cheekily, the words "Well hung".

It was a present from you a few Christmases ago. He remembers you watching him warily unwrap the box, laughing out of giddiness as he blushed when the implication dawned on him. It's just a silly gift, you'd reassured, not pressuring him to even keep it. Yet, since then, it remained a permanent fixture on his bedside table. During restless nights, he'd reach for the familiar mug, seeking solace in the kitchen to drink away the looming shadows of insomnia.

It wasn't until your first night together that you saw it again after all those years, carefully placed and by far, the cleanest thing on his table. Logan ducked his head sheepishly before confessing just how much he treasured the sentiment. In a lifetime of solitude, someone had spared a second to think about him, even for a simple gag gift. And that thought warmed his heart a little on especially hard days.

"You're a child," he chides as you smile, rolling his eyes.

You scoff under your breath, "Oh, just cause you're a hundred years old."

"Hundred and sixty," he corrects, grabbing your foot mid-air before you can nudge his thigh. There's a brief pause as he places the mug aside, a wicked grin splitting his lips. Laughter fills the air as you squirm and wriggle away, quickly understanding the look behind his eyes. But Logan moves faster. His hands trail their way to your sides, drawing squeals of protest as he tickles you.

Seconds later, he backs off, satisfied by your reaction. Shifting his weight, he settles on top of you with a gentle press. As he lays against your chest, humming softly in contentment, the soothing caress of your fingers through his hair lulls him into a state of relaxation. The world simply fades away, replaced by the warmth of your embrace and the quiet flush of domestic bliss. A profound swell of gratitude spreads within his heart. It's during intimate moments like these that he feels especially lucky. A far cry from the man brought into this mansion years ago, times you also reflect on amidst late-night conversations.

The memories remain as vivid as yesterday.

It was late in the afternoon, the setting sun casting long silhouettes across the classroom. You stood by the blackboard, explaining the laws of electromagnetism while scribbling equations in chalk. For months, you'd taken over Charles' role as the physics professor, and what began as a favour soon grew into a passion. However, some days were particularly slow. A palpable sense of boredom washed over your students as their eyes drifted towards the clock in anticipation. Just as you were about to begrudgingly dismiss them, the door flew open - a dishevelled figure clad in gray burst in, wildly panting in fear and confusion.

This must be Logan, you concluded, recalling the latest mission debrief from Scott and Storm. They'd rescued two mutants in Canada, one of whom was particularly banged up and recovering in the med bay. Well, until now. Since their arrival, Charles had emphasised the erratic nature of Logan's mind, even unconscious, a part of him stayed unyielding against the telepath's powers. But as you locked eyes with him, you saw none of that. Instead, he seemed lost and terrified, glancing around the room from one corner to the next as if someone was speaking. Before you could offer a word of reassurance, he was gone, disappearing into the hallway like a fleeting shadow.

Over the following months, he slowly began to emerge from his shell. At first, it was just plain nods of acknowledgement as you passed each other in the mansion. Then, a word here and there, clipped phrases of advice and caution during particularly dangerous missions. Gradually, his presence became more pronounced. Sometimes, after intense training sessions, he'd slip into the back of your classroom, intently listening to your lectures on concepts you presumed were entirely foreign to him.

Except they weren't. It was only later that you discovered his secret: the countless hours spent poring over textbooks he'd discreetly stolen from Charles' bookshelf. The realisation filled your heart with a warm sense of affection. His unspoken interest, the hidden depths, it was all so endearing. Thereafter, Logan consumed your thoughts. And it was during one of those sleepless nights that you found the courage to join him in the kitchen, wordlessly focusing on your own books at either end of the table. Since then, a shared understanding passed between you, a bond forged from mutual appreciation and a hint of something more.

The first time he cracked a smile left you breathless. Jean was furious at Scott, her anger clear as day as she stormed away. And Scott, ever so helpless, turned to anyone for guidance, retracing every misstep, every misplaced word. Logan, watching the scene unfold, sneered to himself, enjoying the man cluelessly suffering. You exchanged a knowing look, a silent agreement on the absurdity of the situation. As you excused yourself, a fit of giggles threatening to overtake you, Logan followed close behind, unable to suppress his own laughter.

From that moment on, things changed. You found yourselves seeking each other, conversations flowed effortlessly, at times even seasoned with playful banter. And as Logan became a steady figure in your life, a strange ache settled in your heart. You were falling for him. Yet, his emotions remained a mystery, a puzzle you were desperate to solve.

One year became another, and another and another. And as your feelings for him increased, hesitation crept in rather unwillingly. You pushed everything away, burying them six feet under, afraid of rejection or something worse. But Logan, with his uncanny perceptiveness, sensed the shift in your behaviour. And one day, in a moment of raw honesty, he confronted you. A heated argument ensued, emotions spilling over, words cutting deep. Then, just as suddenly, the tension dissipated. His lips were on yours, conveying every bit of the love he carried in ways words could never bring justice to.

That was a couple of months ago. Everything was perfect and you'd never felt more complete until you noticed the brief flashes of insecurity whenever he saw the mark on your wrist. You knew he didn't have one. In the beginning, it became a sensitive topic, you started wearing a watch or longer sleeves to stop reminding him. But eventually, his unease was too much to ignore.

And so, you bit the bullet.

The conversation was fraught with discomfort, but as you spoke, his expression softened, a slight weight lifting off his shoulders. He shamefully expressed his worries, the fear of not being enough - not being the one for you. It was a small step, but one that brought you closer than ever before.

Logan couldn't have been more grateful.

"Perhaps the two of you should, what do the kids call it, get a room?"

Charles' voice suddenly cuts across the silence. All eyes, including Logan's and yours, snap up from the blueprints scattered on the table. Scott blinks in confusion, meanwhile Jean, holding back a knowing smirk, can barely contain herself.

"I've had my fair share of lewd daydreams in my youth, but that was quite disturbing," he continues, tone laced with disapproval.

Colour drains from your face. Had your thoughts really been that obvious? Sure, you couldn't stop admiring how the tight leather suit molded to Logan's physique - incredibly distracting, to say the least. But you didn't realise you were projecting your attraction so loudly, especially in a room with two telepaths.

"Sorry, Professor." It seems useless to apologise at this point, but he responds with a curt nod directed at Logan. Turning your attention to the blueprints, you feel a familiar weight against your back. Logan, the sly bastard, leans over your shoulder with feigned nonchalance. And it takes every ounce of your willpower to focus on the serious discussion instead.

A recon mission.

Some old abandoned Hydra facility used for mutant experimentation in the 90s, the remnants of failed trials left to rot and forgotten. Charles had caught wind of it through Cerebro, suspecting that there may be valuable information hidden within its walls, secrets that should very well stay away from the wrong hands.

"What's in there?" Scott asks, tensing a little.

Charles pauses, a scowl twisting his expression, "That is a private matter."

"Private Matter," you mumble without thinking, instinctively reaching for a salute before Logan catches your wrist, halting the motion. He shoots a look, a silent reprimand that very clearly implies "Not now". Fortunately, no one else witnesses your mistimed quip, too engaged in drafting a safe plan for extraction.

The mission seems fairly straightforward, a simple infiltration like many you've done before. Nevertheless, Charles concludes with a stern warning to heed caution, "Now, good luck to all of you." As you filter out the room, he casts a pointed glare, "And Logan, please refrain from defiling my desk at any point in the future."

Shock etches across your face, mouth slightly agape. Once you're out of earshot, you shove Logan’s arm in embarrassment, "It wasn't me then." You breathe in relief only to be reminded of the thoughts he seemed to be entertaining earlier. What surprises you is the fact that you're more intrigued than deterred by the idea.

"My bad, sweetheart. Couldn't help myself," he laughs, dipping in close to whisper, "Suit's makin' it real hard to think straight." And with that, he's off, jogging ahead to Scott and Jean already waiting in the hangar.

Once you're airborne, the atmosphere shifts. Jean pilots the jet, her hands steady on the controls, eyes scanning the horizon. The Hydra facility looms in the distance, a dark and ominous presence in the middle of nowhere. As you approach your destination, a sense of apprehension lingers among the four of you. Scott recounts the plan, outlining the most efficient entry and exit points, his voice low and deliberate, "Logan and I will start from top-down and you two from the opposite."

As you leave the jet, a hand slips into your own, stilling you in place. Logan tugs you into his arms, there's a faint smile playing on his lips, his eyes, however, convey something along the lines of "Be careful, please". You squeeze his hand reassuringly, pressing a quick kiss before breaking away. With a reluctant sigh, he catches up with Scott, splitting off from you and Jean.

Inside, the air is thick with the scent of decay and neglect. Everything is left exactly as it was, except there are signs of a violent struggle - machines overturned, wires strewn across the floor, glass shards crunching under your boots. It's a scene of chaos and destruction. In the center lies an operating table, its restraints snapped in half, broken syringes and discarded medical equipment scattered around.

Electricity crackles beneath your fingertips. Though your powers aren't advanced, Charles has been a patient mentor, overseeing your progress since the day he found you. However, as you keep surveying the area, you notice an odd sensation, a subtle resistance to your abilities. A similar unease grips Jean too, her gaze meeting yours, a shared look of concern exchanged as you continue your search.

A distorted voice breaks through the comms, "Upper level's clear. No sign of anything." It's Scott, barely recognisable over the static.

"Copy. Still sweeping the lower level," you respond, but it's garbled by the interference.

"Stay on alert," Jean warns, straining her telekinetic energy against the strange force permeating the facility. "Defence systems could still be active."

You venture deeper into the hallway, greeted by an eerie silence broken only by the echo of your own footsteps. A series of cells line the corridor, thick metal barricades, scarred and rusted, stand as a testament to the suffering endured by those held captive years before. Peering through the tiny barred windows, you see sterile, empty rooms, not a single bed or mattress to be found - the cold, hard concrete floor offering no comfort.

"Fuckin' hell," you murmur, chills running down your spine. Jean hums quietly in agreement, looking around in horror. The electricity you can usually detect in the background dwindles to a weak buzz. You descend a narrow staircase, the air growing heavier by the second. At the end of the hallway is another metal hatch, this time with a faded Hydra symbol etched onto its surface. With a concentrated effort, Jean manipulates the lock, the door groaning open with a distinct beep.

It's beyond dimly lit - a dark, cavernous space. You focus your powers, fighting against the invisible pressure dampening your strength, current coursing through your veins. With a snap of your wrist, the room erupts in light, fluorescent bulbs flickering awake. A row of computers surrounded by a bundle of wires and archaic machinery stretch towards the ceiling.

"Must be the control room," Jean reaches out to flip a switch, but as her fingers brush the old metal, energy jolts through your body - a warning that something is amiss.

"No - wait!" you shout, but it's too late. The metal door slams shut with a deafening clang. An agonising vibration rattles through the room, a shockwave that reverberates through your body. The two of you sink to the floor, clutching your ears as a rush of debilitating pain burns every nerve ending in your body. And you're left paralysed for what feels like an eternity.

Logan clicks his tongue as static continues pouring through the comms, he catches the tail-end of your broken reply - something something lower level - a pit of dread forming in his stomach, "Place feels off."

"You're right, I can't get a read on anything," Scott mutters, the red hue of his glasses flashing in the darkness.

Logan's eyes dart around the space, landing on a series of grotesque instruments undoubtedly used for torture. A wave of nausea washes over him, flashbacks of his own past spring forward at the sight, reminders of the days when he too was a mere subject in someone else's twisted experiments. Suddenly, the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. An imperceptible vibration ripples beneath his feet, "The fuck was that?"

Scott immediately tries the comms again, "Jean? Wha - ", but it goes completely dead.

Logan's already barrelling through the corridors, his instincts taking over without a conscious thought. He calls for you again and again, reckless abandon fueling his every move. Screw the mission, all he wants is for you to be safe. His heart leaps into his throat as static hisses through the comms, Jean's voice muffled through the noise, "We've got... a major problem."

One second passes.

Two.

Three.

"C'mon, darlin'." The silence drags on, panic begins to seize his mind, sweat beading on his forehead. He needs to find you, now. The faint vibrations gradually become intense as he races down the staircase, "Major problem? C'mon, say your stupid joke, sweetheart. Please. Anything." His pleas, wracked with desperation, fall on deaf ears. Fear gnaws at him. He’s itching to hear your voice, even for that little running gag he doesn’t fully understand. Just any goddamn sign that you're still alive.

His senses direct him towards the metal hatch. Lunging forward, his fist connects with the barrier, claws extending at any attempt to tear through the door. Yet it holds firm, its surface barely dented or scratched by his force. Frantic, Logan rams his claws into the small security panel on the side, trying to short-circuit the lock. But the moment it's breached, a chain reaction is triggered, explosives hidden within the walls detonate with a tremendous roar. A torrent of debris and radiation thrusts him backwards, knocking him hard against the concrete.

The world around him seemingly implodes into a bedlam of sound and light, white flashes obscuring his vision. Pain, a searing, all-consuming pain diffuses through every inch of his body. His consciousness wanes, slipping away from his grasp. In the fading moments of awareness, he hears a distant crackle of electricity.

Then, nothing.

The memory of the chaos, the blinding light, the aftermath of the explosion, replay over and over. And then, there was Logan, his body limp and unresponsive, a sight that haunts your every waking moment. You remember the desperate scramble to escape the facility, the weight of his unconscious form in all your arms, the tense journey back to the mansion, Charles and Jean ushering you out of the med bay - their focus solely on stabilising him.

The night stretches on, a relentless march of time that seems to punctuate your helplessness as you pace back and forth. The lack of response from anyone doesn't quell the whirlwind of anxieties in the slightest. Every minute sound, every faint whisper, sends your heart racing. But when they finally emerge hours later, faces etched with exhaustion and relief, you can finally breathe.

For days, you sit by Logan's bedside, hands intertwined with his. The monotonous rhythm signalling his vitals is the only thing grounding you to reality. Though he remains unconscious, Jean had offered words of comfort, pointing to subtle improvements in his healing with her scans. Eventually, warmth returns to his body. His breathing, once laboured, is now full and steady. Leaning forward, you press a gentle kiss to his forehead and hope ignites within you again, just enough to draw a small, weary smile.

But then, you see it.

Glaring at you, painfully so, is a little mark on the back of his shoulder. Except, it isn't the same crescent moon that adorns your wrist. No.

Your heart sinks, breath catching in your throat, paralysis sets in once again. A single, shattering revelation echoes in your mind: Logan is not your soulmate.

He stirs awake, eyelids fluttering open. Everything slowly returns to his senses as the haze of confusion begins to clear. The first thing he notices is the familiar scent of you lingering on his skin, in the air, on the chair pulled by his side. As his vision unblurs, the blue walls of the med bay coming into view, a flood of concern smacks him in the face. Where are you? What happened? He tries to sit up, his body protesting with every movement.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

The mechanical hum of a wheelchair grows louder as it approaches. Charles, brimming with sympathy, rolls closer.

Logan groans, his muscles throbbing like never before, "What the hell happened? Is she - "

"She's alright, as are Scott and Jean," he interjects, though a shadow of pity clouds his expression. The unspoken weight behind his words triggers alarms in Logan's head, but before he can question him, a sharp burn shoots up his back. He winces, reaching for the source of the stinging. Beneath his fingertips, a strange, rough texture grates against his skin. He angles back to inspect it, blood running cold.

"It surfaced a week ago," Charles says grimly, "We suspect the radiation from the explosion temporarily impacted your healing, hence, the mark."

Logan can't think straight, a maelstrom of emotions engulfs every single fiber of his being - disbelief, agony and rage. How could this be real? He'd spent night after night, praying for some sort of sign, a reason for his existence. And when he found that in you, it felt like everything finally aligned. But now, destiny had struck him down with a ruthless blow, a cosmic twist of fate far worse than death.

Seven days.

That's how long it's been since you last saw him. The weight of the world bore down on you, every breath a struggle. Hours bled into one another as you stayed locked in your room, sobbing uncontrollably, your heart fracturing with each passing moment. Jean's persistent knocking eventually broke through your despair, her calm voice soothing your frayed mental state.

It took all of her gentle persuasion for you to finally eat something, to force you out of the anguish that consumed you. The news that Logan was awake and begging to see you almost crumbled the impenetrable walls you'd built up. But the thought of facing him, of confronting the fragile pieces of your harsh reality, filled you with dread.

And so, you avoided him. Retreating into yourself, a ghost of your own life, you clung to the illusion of distance. Maybe it'll somehow ease the pain, the heartbreak. You couldn't even bear to look at your own wrist, the mark - a cruel reminder of a love that was and a future that can never be. Every second of every day, mocking whispers floated around your mind, "You don't deserve him. You never did."

The moment Logan fully recovers, he immediately rushes through the mansion. Anticipation swells in his chest, there's nothing he wants more than your touch, your laughter - just you. He reaches your room, sensing the warmth from within. Hand hovering in the air, he takes a deep breath before knocking.

"Sweetheart?"

There's no response. He drops his head against the door, breathing ragged. Tears sting his eyes, threatening to spill over, the oxygen in his lungs thinning as he tries to speak, "Please. I know you're in there. Talk to me." The silence, the emptiness, it all becomes too much. He's losing you, and he can't do anything to stop it. "I know you're upset. But, please, just let me in."

Your voice comes muffled, charged with grief and sorrow, "That mark means there's someone out there for you - your real soulmate. Someone who isn't me." The words are piercing, he longs to pull you into his arms, to comfort you, to reassure you. "I am not meant for you, Logan," you choke out.

"Fuck that," he spits back. He can't accept this, that you're conceding to some inexplicable truth, "'M not givin' you up cause of some shit on my body. I choose you. And I will choose you. Every single time." It's all strangled, raw with emotion, cheeks stained with a wetness. He's wound up, a caged animal clawing at the bars. He'll fight for you, even if all the cards are against him, "Darlin', I don't care if there's someone else - they're not you. You're perfect to me. For me. The universe can go fuck itself cause I love you."

Logan goes still. He's never expressed that to you, not in this way, not with such soul-baring honesty. But, nothing has ever been more true, "I love you."

Heavy hangs the air. Then, a soft padding of footsteps, the door clicks open. Before he can react, your hands cup his face, drawing him down to your level, lips meeting in a passionate caress. Logan cradles the back of your head, deepening the kiss. The space between you, both physically and emotionally, fades away. This is all that matters, for now and forever.

His arms tighten as you pull back and tuck into the crook of his neck. The weight of your exhaustion is obvious with the shuddering sigh you let out, his heart aching for you. As you whisper apologies, he trails kisses down your face. "No, no, don't be sorry, darlin'," he says, all soft and gentle. Neither of you move, surrendering to each other, the moment suspended in time. Slowly, your trembling subsides and he smiles, the lines of misery now dimming. With delicate fingers, he brushes your tears away.

"I have a major headache," you murmur, eyes falling shut.

He huffs a laugh, saluting you with a playful grin, "Major Headache." The look of astonishment across your face brings him so much joy. "I asked Kitty, told me to watch the damn show." And Logan did watch the show - all for you - to understand the little references you kept making here and there.

"You know how to use the Internet?" you ask, incredulously.

"Don't push it, sweetheart." There's no malice behind his tone whatsoever. With a smirk, he leans forward, scooping you up in his arms and carries you to the bed. It's a familiar motion, a routine he's done hundreds of times before. But now, it's different, one that’s even more precious.

"Logan?"

"Hm?"

"I love you too."

He knows. He knows because it's written all over you. Every word, every breath, every touch - a testament to your love for him. A love so quiet and profound, a love that has weathered storms, a love that will last until the end of time. And he's eternally grateful for it. For you.

[ahundredtimesover]

Hold Me Closer | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader (ft. brother Jimin)

Genre/Tags: brother’s best friends au; slight angst, fluff, smut

Warnings: foul language, alcohol consumption; kitchen emergency; eldest child feels, adulting; explicit sexual content (making out, oral m & f receiving, unprotected sex but be safe please!); Seven JK (18+)

Word count: 19.2k

Read Part 1: Hold Me Close

Summary: When you're asked to look after your parents' house and meet them before they go on vacation, you, Jimin, and Jungkook take the trip to your hometown of Busan and relive memories of your youth. While your new relationship has you feeling like a lovesick teenager with all the affection that Jungkook shows you, you're still you - a professional trying to make it in the corporate world, and an eldest child trying not to disappoint her parents. And that turns out to be your undoing, as a little blunder causes a rift between you and Jungkook, resulting in a trip that you might as well have messed up... Not if your brother can help it, though.

Listen to 🎵: Hands Down by Dashboard Confessional

Playlist 🎶: High School Playlist

A/N 1: I know I said I’d be on a break but I reread Hold Me Close and found comfort in this Jungkook 🥹 so I went ahead and wrote this little piece! Whipped and comforting boyfriend JK is what I needed so I hope you enjoy this 💕

Six - the number of work calls you’ve already taken in the last hour, with each one of them lasting one whole song. Jungkook calculates that you’ve spent half of the entire drive since leaving Seoul talking with your boss about some report that he somehow can’t complete without you, which sucks because Jungkook was really looking forward to this road trip with you and his best friend.

You groan after you hang up and the clackity clack of the keyboard continues. He was hoping to hold your hand while he drove and maybe sing with you some of your favorite songs that he put on but it doesn’t seem like those will happen anytime soon. You’re immersed in your work but he guesses you have to be; the sooner this ends, the sooner your focus will be on him and this present moment.

He finds the positive side of it at least. He gets to listen to you explain things - why the numbers are what they are, what targets you reached, and what risks you managed. It’s quite silly but it’s kind of a turn on, hearing you talk about something you know like the back of your hand, pretty much proving to your crap of a boss how good you are at your job and why you’re an asset to the company. You know your shit, and you have a classy way of making sure they know that you do. 

Six calls, and Jungkook already knows half of your project report. And perhaps he’ll know more, as the seventh one comes.

You let it ring for one, two, three times, as you hold your phone in one hand while you continue to type away with the other. 

“I swear to god, ___. If you don’t pick that up, I’m  gonna throw your phone out of this car,” Jimin, who’s comfortably seated in the backseat, growls. 

The dramatics is understandable because one, it’s Jimin and two, the constant ringing is a little bit much.

“___, I’m not fucking kiddi—”

“Hello, sir,” you finally answer, then proceed to discuss this month’s analytics and projections for the succeeding quarter.

Jungkook predicts it’s gonna take you another whole song to finish, so he instead focuses on the road and appreciates the clear skies and familiar scenery of the drive to Busan. His thoughts go to how these next several days are gonna go. There’s visiting your favorite spots growing up, going to a resort, staying in to eat and play video games, and of course, cuddling with you in your room, as you and Jimin will have your parents’ house to yourselves once they leave for their anniversary trip in two days.

His musings are disrupted though, when he looks at the rear view mirror and sees Jimin’s annoyed face blocking his view. Jungkook can’t help but laugh, especially when he hears his best friend grumbling complaints just behind him.

“Leave her be, she’ll be done soon,” Jungkook dismisses him. “They sound like important stuff.”

“She’s talking so loudly!” Jimin groans. “I just want to reminisce and sing along to our teenage emo music, Kook.”

Jungkook turns the music off. 

“There, I paused it. You can sing along once she’s done speaking on the phone,” he says.

Jimin pouts in response. “You always take her side. You weren’t like this when we were kids.”

“Well, if it means anything, I always took her side. I just never told you,” Jungkook laughs.

“Traitor.”

“I’m literally your most loyal friend.”

It’s a statement that Jimin can’t counter. Jungkook is his most loyal friend. And the most supportive. And the most dependable. And definitely the one who’s never left his side. 

When Jimin casually told their group that he likes girls and boys, Jungkook was the only one who didn’t need time to “warm up to the idea.” Jungkook was also the only one who never disappeared whenever he had a girlfriend. He was also the one who never missed a single one of Jimin’s dance showcases in college and professional shows. 

And of course, Jungkook was the one friend who took up his offer to drink that Friday afternoon, resulting in that infamous gutter incident - as you like to call it - and his subsequent unemployment and homelessness. While you, his beloved sister, were there to pick up the pieces, so was Jungkook, the way he promised he would after they became friends at 10 years old. 

Those months when Jimin was heartbroken and unsure of what he was going to do with his life, his best friend was there to make sure that he wasn’t going to lose his drive and love for dancing. His best friend is also the one constantly cheering him up about this long-distance relationship that he decided to have with Taehyung while others continue to be a skeptic.

Jungkook is that friend, and Jimin supposes he can forgive the other man every time he sides with you.

Jimin is about to complain again when you put the phone down and make one of your restrained cries. He pities you, but it doesn’t change the fact that he wishes you wouldn’t be doing your work stuff while you’re on a trip of what’s supposed to be a mini-break.

“I don’t get why you don’t pick up after the first ring,” he huffs. 

“It’s so Mr. Soo knows that I’m not easily available,” you say. 

“But you are. You answer it anyway,” Jimin rolls his eyes.

“Exactly, I’m gonna answer it anyway. Might as well make him wait for it because he needs me,” you point out. “It’s bad enough that he’s calling while I’m taking the leave he approved, so I’m just pissing him off. He doesn’t know I changed the prompt to leave me a voice message to an annoying song so he’ll have to sit through it to get to me. I already know it’s getting on his nerves.”

“Ooh, petty. I like that,” Jimin hums. 

“I know. I got that from you,” you proudly smile.

“But why are you even working?” He whines, your brother’s tone more of pity than annoyance. “It totally defeats the purpose of a leave. And you shouldn’t be indulging him!”

“Well, Mr. Soo approved this leave thinking that Chul would help him craft this report, which is based on the project that I proposed, only to realize that he doesn’t know shit about it because I wrote everything, and he just took the credit,” you explain. “I don’t want to be doing this, too, but I also just took the chance to show who’s driving the wheel, and it’s definitely me. Plus, I worked hard for that project. Working on the report at least gives me a chance to give myself credit for it.”

“Hmm, I guess you’re right,” Jimin concedes. “Your voice is just so loud.”

“I’m sorry. I just wanted to match his tone,” you say. “But he’ll be in a meeting for the next hour or so and he probably won’t need me again until then. You can turn the music back on.”

“Ugh, thank god,” Jimin groans again. “I missed my favorite song.”

He leans forward and squeezes himself in the small space between you and Jungkook. The proximity causes Jimin to smack his elbow on your face, which you know is intended, considering how much of a brat he is. So you do what you always do - flick the back of his head. 

He yells but gets over it once he manages to press the rewind button and plays the song he’s been wanting to hear. You haven’t been paying attention throughout the drive and hadn’t even known what they were listening to, but once the music comes on, a wave of nostalgia hits you.

You take the CD case you see in the compartment and scan the song list.

“Dashboard Confessional?” You read out. “Mayday Parade? Something Corporate?”

You go through 2 other CDs and look at both men questioningly. 

“These are literally plucked out of my high school playlist that I illegally downloaded,” you state, given that music streaming sites weren’t a thing over a decade ago. “Why do you have them in CDs? And did you even know these songs back then?”

“Yes, because we listened to your playlist when you weren’t around,” Jimin confesses, earning him a flick on the arm. 

“You went through my computer? You were in my room?!” You yell.

“Don’t be dramatic,” Jimin rolls his eyes. “It was a boring room, there was nothing to see. We just wanted your music because they were cool, but I’d never admit it.”

“I’m sure,” you shake your head. “But it was my ex, remember? He was a new kid from the US and he got me into these emo rock bands and I thought they were cool, too. He downloaded them illegally for me and I just jammed to those songs all the time even after we broke up.”

“We know. Jungkook and I could hear it from my bedroom,” Jimin says, “which is why we used to sneak in and listen when you weren’t around.”

“Is that why you put them in a mixtape? So you could listen to them whenever you wanted?” You ask, turning to Jungkook because between the both of them, he’s definitely the one who’d know how to do this.

“Yeah, Kook. Why did you make these mixtapes when neither of us had a portable CD player… but my sister did?” Jimin presses, cocked eyebrow and smug face on display.

You’re looking at him now, and it’s a curious look that Jungkook can’t resist.

“I just thought to put your most played ones in CDs,” he shyly admits, “and uh, planned on giving them to you before you left for college. But I chickened out so I just left them in a box in my room that I brought to Seoul. I’d forgotten all about it until Jimin raided my studio and found them.”

“You… you made me mixtapes? When you were 15?” You ask.

“___, I think I’ve established enough that I had a huge crush on you when I was a teenager,” he turns to you and laughs. 

It’s a little embarrassing even if he’s already dating you. It still feels surreal sometimes, as he thinks of his growing up years and how he always looked forward to sleeping over at Jimin’s place and then catching glimpses of you. There were the times when you’d watch movies with them in the living room, and then he’d help you clean up in the kitchen so he could spend more time with you.

That was over 10 years ago and so much has changed, but the admiration he felt for you never dwindled. There was always that image of you looking happy. He kept that version of you in his mind, even when you had your boyfriends. He just wanted to remember your smile, and now he gets to be the reason for it, like now.

“It’s just… it’s very sweet and thoughtful,” you say softly. 

“I… Well… I took interest in the things you liked. I guess that happens when you like someone.”

“Told you he’s a romantic,” Jimin nudges you. 

Between the fairy tattoo he designed and did on your shoulder, the dinner and picnic dates he takes you to despite both your busy schedules, and the way he holds you so close to him whenever and wherever he can, you can definitely say that Jungkook is a romantic.

It’s only been three months but it feels as if you’ve been dating him for longer, given the overflow of affection he’s been giving you. It’s in the way he always holds your hand and kisses you so passionately. It’s in his encouraging words and the way he spoils you with the littlest things. 

It’s refreshing to be with him. He has boyish charms that have become even sexier with his slightly long hair and the lip ring that he recently got. And whatever he’s wearing, there’s just something so comfortably sexy about him that’s both warm and exciting, and you often find yourself swarmed in butterflies whenever he talks about you.

It’s only been three months but it’s a relationship you’re still slowly being open about. Your friends were definitely surprised. Hoseok fell off the couch with all his body movements; Jin spat out his drink; Yoongi gasped, then followed it up with a teasing smirk; So-Hee and Na-eun gushed over how Jungkook treats you, and took the chance to say how he’s gotten more handsome over the years. 

You asked them if it was that shocking for you to be dating someone younger - and your brother’s best friend at that - and while they said it was a bit unexpected, what really got them was how different Jungkook is from your exes. He’s not some corporate man with ambitions, they pointed out. His life is less structured, too, given his freelancing career and gig at the tattoo parlor. He’s definitely a lot more laid-back and more casual than they’re used to. 

They were short of remarking that Jungkook’s lifestyle isn’t as stable and secure as what you normally go for, and they wouldn’t be wrong. It’s a thought you’ve had before, and something even he brought up because he didn’t want you thinking that he can’t keep up with you. But you’d been the one to point out to your friends that stability can come in different forms. With how Jungkook has been so dependable and assuring, that’s given you more security than you ever thought. 

But it’s not something that’s easy to explain. Maybe your friends could understand. They’ve made careers in different industries, after all, with short term jobs forming part of their resume. But your parents are of a different generation and mindset. Stability for them means one thing, and they raised you to want the same thing in the same way. 

Which is why it’s already been three months, and you still haven’t told them about you and Jungkook. 

“I started young,” he laughs, pulling you out of your thoughts as he takes your hand and interlocks his fingers with yours. “I used to just choose my moments of romance but with you, I’m romantic all the time.”

“Really? Does being a flirt count as being romantic?” You cock an eyebrow.

Because that’s what he is. He likes to tease and call you out when he affects you. He likes to charm and then edge you until you’re pleading for him to do more. 

“Definitely! I mean, I’m out here living my teenage dream, you know?” He winks at you. “Not just anyone gets to say that they’re dating the person they had a crush on when they were 13.”

“Oh god, here we go again,” Jimin groans, earning him a laugh from you and Jungkook.

But even if your brother fake-gags at your not-so private displays of affection, you know deep down that he’s happy for you and his best friend. The two most important people in his life found comfort in each other, and he gets to witness and bask in that. 

He also gets to brag that it all happened because of him. 

You spend the next hour jamming to all your favorite emo rock songs because Jungkook wasn’t kidding - he really did include all of the ones you had on repeat from your playlist. It takes you back to over 10 years ago of playing the music so loud while you’re in your pajamas, jumping on your bed and singing your lungs out. They don’t really remind you of your ex-boyfriend. That was a short-lived relationship that only really had you appreciating the songs he shared and not much more. 

Your boss doesn’t reach out to you until a half hour later. He’s taken to sending you messages instead, and when he does, you’re back to typing away on your laptop, to the displeasure of both men. 

They don’t call you out this time and instead leave you be. Until, of course, it hinders you from enjoying yourself.

The car has stopped but you’re still on your laptop, double checking figures. Jimin has stepped out after telling you that he’ll throw your laptop in the ocean if you don’t stop, but Jungkook stays with you inside the car. He bops his head and hums to the music that neither of you could barely hear. He picks on his fingers and yelps at the hangnail he pulls out. He opens the window and shoos away a bug, then hangs out his head to feel the late morning sun.

“Kook, you can go out if you’re bored,” you say, your eyes still glued to your screen. “You don’t have to stay with me here.”

“But I want to,” he responds. “I’m not leaving until you do, not when you said we’re spending the week free from work and stress.”

“I just need to get this done,” you sigh, rechecking your stats for the third time and then aligning the table. “I’ll be finished soon.”

“You said that 15 minutes ago,” he points out, not wanting to sound like he’s complaining, although he might as well be. 

“It’s just—”

“You’ve done your part, babe. You’ve encoded the figures and cross-checked the targets and objectives. Writing the rest of that report and formatting it isn’t your job anymore,” Jungkook says. “You weren’t even supposed to do those. You’re not on the clock. You’re on leave, and you deserve this break.”

“I hate that I have to work, too, but it’s not something I just can’t do, not when my boss is calling and expecting me to do all this,” you groan. 

You see his eyebrows furrow and you get defensive. 

“You know what, nevermind. You work solo, you answer to no one, you don’t have to prove yourself to corporate assholes. You won’t get it.”

You sigh once more and return to reviewing the conclusion, but the sudden silence is unnerving. You glance at Jungkook and see the look on his face - it’s not sadness but disappointment, and it’s one you don’t see very often on him.

You’re about to apologize when he speaks, his voice soft and low, as if speaking is difficult for him.

“I work with so many clients on a daily basis, with more than half of them setting deadlines that they don’t even follow and demanding so many things so yes, I get it,” he says. “But I put my foot down when I need to, because I learned a long time ago that I shouldn’t let people walk all over me. I know you’re up against a lot of things and you may feel like your hands are tied but they aren’t. A break won’t hurt you. And you know you deserve it. We deserve your attention, too.”

Your heart cracks at his words. Even more at the way he looks, as you see that all he wants is to spend time with you. He’s been busy, too. He’s spent the last few nights at his studio, buried deep in his projects because he said he wanted to focus on you this week. And you know that he’ll keep his word like he always does. Jungkook is dedicated to his work but he focuses on you when he says he will. You’re the one not loyal to what you say.

“Kook, I’m—”

“Just do what you have to do,” he interjects, his eyes downcast now. “I’ll be outside with Jimin. Come out when you’re done. You like it here, so don’t worry. We won’t leave until you’ve come down.”

Jungkook exits the car before you can say anything. You watch him walk down the stony path towards the ocean.

You hadn’t even realized you’re here. 

You’re at Cheongsapo, with the pebble beach just meters away being one you all went to as kids. Jungkook’s older brother used to drive you here during summer, and you all enjoyed the calmness of the place. You used to bet on who would treat ice cream by playing rounds of stone skipping, with Jimin winning every single time. You remember how you and Jungkook taught each other how to do it, and then tag-teamed against your brother so he could finally treat you both that one time. 

Whenever you’d visit Busan during your college breaks, you’d always come down here with your friends, with Jungkook and Jimin in tow. You’d visit at sunset and hold out your sparklers, then navigate the terrain at night and laugh about who tripped and slipped on the way back. 

Jungkook’s right. You like this place. It holds so many memories of your youth, and you find yourself constantly reminiscing, as you try to recall his place in your life back then. 

You mentally smack yourself. He didn’t deserve your dismissal. He didn’t deserve the way you spoke to him. He’s been trying to help, especially with how busy you’ve been these past several weeks. You were supposed to work from home while you housesat your parents’ house but Jimin convinced you to take your untouched leaves when Jungkook decided to come, and then they both called it a mini-break.

And maybe you need it, considering that all this preoccupation with work has caused you to snap at your boyfriend when all he wanted to do was ease your mind.

So you get out of the car and head to him. 

There’s a small forest to pass through and a steep staircase to maneuver, but you manage. You look out to see Jimin already throwing stones and Jungkook standing by, reacting to every gliding pebble on the water. You spare a few seconds to admire him from the back, with his plain white shirt and light gray lounge pants, accentuating a figure that has you weak in the knees. His hands are in his pockets and his slightly long locks are in a half-bun, and he looks every bit of comfort in this place that holds so much of your years growing up.

You walk to where he is and wrap your arms around him from behind. He stills but he doesn’t say anything. You savor his natural scent and the way the tips of his hair tickle your face. You bask in the taut figure that somehow softens under your touch. Once you feel him relax a little, you tilt your head and whisper in his ear. 

“I’m sorry for snapping at you. You didn’t deserve that.”

He remains quiet and unmoving. All you can hear are the sounds of the waves and Jimin’s cheering from some meters away.

“I just got caught up with work but I’m done with it. It wasn’t right of me to neglect you when I promised I was gonna take a break and spend time with you,” you continue.

Your voice is low and Jungkook could hear your pout. Just a little bit more and he’ll give in.

“You look so hot today and I just want to—”

“Yah!” He whines, finally returning your affection and caressing your arms that are now wrapped around him tightly. “Don’t tease me.”

“Hmm, that caught your attention, huh?” You giggle, lightly kissing his neck.

He shivers at the act, and he laughs at himself for how whipped he is for you, giving in so quickly.

“You know it would,” he huffs, turning around to face you now.

You still have that pout and he just wants to kiss it off you.

“How was walking down the steep staircase?” He asks, knowing that was your only non-favorite thing about this place. 

“I tripped on a step but I’m fine,” you proudly smile now. 

“You should’ve called me,” he frowns now. 

“But you were upset with me!”

“So? Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t help you down the stairs and risk you tripping. You know how those steps are. And the pebbles can sometimes be slippery. You can trip here, too, and— what?”

“Nothing. You’re sexy when you’re worried about me,” you say nonchalantly.

“Ugh, come here,” he groans, pulling you in a hug, one that you fall into immediately. “I’ll always worry about you. And I’ll always help you, even if I’m upset.”

“I know,” you sigh. “I’m sorry again. But I’ve laid off the report now. I told Mr. Soo I shall not be disturbed anymore for the rest of my leave.”

“Good,” Jungkook hums, pulling away to face you now. “Because I really want to know what you wanted to do.”

“Ah, many things, Jeon Jungkook,” you smirk. “But I’ll maybe settle for this first.”

You lean in and kiss him - deep enough to have him moan against your lips, and you suddenly can’t wait until you can do more.

“Oh, my eyes!” Jimin squeals, prompting you to look at him with his arm covering his face.

Jungkook only laughs but you scowl at your brother.

“You’re so dramatic,” you roll your eyes. “You’ve seen worse.”

“And I’ve erased that image of my sister and my best friend swallowing each other’s faces from my mind. Please don’t remind me again,” he groans. “But anyway, are you tolerable again?”

“Yes,” you frown. “I think,” you mutter, turning to Jungkook.

“You’re alright,” he teases, before he wraps his arm around you and pulls you close. “Now Jimin here wants to reassert his dominance as the stone-skipping king. You game for a match?”

“Do I have a choice?” You cock your eyebrow.

“No. So okay, same rules,” your brother announces. “Loser treats everyone to coffee and pastry. We all know it won’t be me.”

“Brat,” you say under your breath. 

But he’s not wrong. He dominates and Jungkook ends up losing. The wink he makes tells you he let you win. And though you like to play fair, you won’t lie and say his teasing smirk definitely turned you on.

You spend the rest of your morning enjoying iced coffee while overlooking the beach, then you head to your favorite seafood restaurant for lunch. You go to your usual market for ingredients for the week, including tonight’s dinner that your mother will be preparing. She wanted to cook for all of you before they flew out, she said, and that got you excited. 

It’s refreshing to walk through the streets and spots of your childhood and reminisce with your brother and boyfriend. The memories take on different forms this time, as Jungkook tells you things from his perspective. 

You remember that one time you scolded them for sneaking out on a school night and then picking them up at an alley with Jin driving you. Jungkook says he liked how caring and understanding you were then; you said you’d cover for them after flicking their foreheads. 

There’s that summer when you got your friends to buy from Jimin and Jungkook’s ice pop stand so they could buy these skateboards that neither of your parents wanted to get for them. Jungkook recalls how you complimented his recipe and told everyone he made them so that they’d praise him, too. 

There’s that winter when, after your brother’s begging, you had him and Jungkook join you and your friends’ bonfire night at one of your secret beach spots. Jungkook points out that you always made sure that as the youngest ones there, they were warm and well-fed. 

And then there were their sleepovers when you’d join them play video games and watch horror movies in the living room. Jungkook gushes at how pretty you looked and how you’d always prepare them popcorn and drinks. He outs you as the one who puts the blanket over him and Jimin when they fall asleep on the couch. 

“I tend to forget a lot of things but I remember when they’re about you,” he mumbles as he starts the drive to your house. “It’s just always stuck with me. Please don’t be weirded out.”

You giggle but assure him that you aren’t. You understand him - there are things and people and moments that naturally stick with you, and they’re the ones you hold dear, too. 

He was a kid with a crush and his attention was often on you, and you suppose that given how you’d felt comfortable around him then, it was also maybe natural that you’d feel the same way now that you’re both older. It just so happened that he ended up looking as attractive as he did, and that’s just an added bonus. 

Jungkook drops you and Jimin home before he drives three blocks away to his parents’ house. He’ll greet them first before heading to your place, he says, excited for your mom’s cooking that he always enjoyed. 

It’s been some time since you last saw them. They don’t always drive out to Seoul, only doing so to watch Jimin’s shows, and you haven’t had time to go home, either. Plus, you had an injured brother to take care of, and he’s also really the topic of every conversation you’ve had with them these past months. 

And there are no bad feelings there. He’s had injuries and illnesses that had them worried, and you’re pretty much as unproblematic and predictable as any eldest child could get. You think you’re that monotonous or unexciting, too, and you suppose that just meant they didn’t feel the need to check on you as much as they did with Jimin.

But you express your longing once they offer you their hugs. You say how you miss your mom’s cooking and your dad’s baking, which is code for saying that you’ve missed them, too. 

You get your stuff to your room and sigh in relief at the comfort it still gives you. Not much has changed between your double bed, your desk, your beanbag, and the large cork board of photos on your wall. You pin the Polaroids from earlier, deciding to keep the ones of you and Jungkook for your place back in Seoul. 

You huff this time, unsure how you’ll open the discussion of you dating your younger brother’s best friend to your parents. They’ve known him since he was a kid; they watched him get into all kinds of trouble with their son, and were there for his milestones, too. 

Jungkook was always Jimin’s partner-in-crime; they were two peas in a pod who went through everything together. Now it’s you and him and you don’t really know how they’ll take it. 

But you brush it off for now and think it’s a conversation for later, or maybe when they come back from their trip. You intended on telling them in person, which is why they’re still in the dark. It’s just a matter of how you’ll say it.

You head downstairs and take in the scent of seafood soft tofu stew. The two boys are already at the kitchen counter, munching on the rolled omelet that they shouldn’t even be having yet. But your mom lets them, as Jimin talks about his new agency and shows videos of him doing some choreographies.

You stand next to Jungkook, who sneakily feeds you. You don’t know why you get flustered at the act, even more when he whispers in your ear. 

“So, I finally get to see your room with your permission,” he cheekily smiles. “I promised Jimin a few rounds of Overwatch before going to you.”

You merely laugh and tell him that your dad’s asking him something.

“So, Jungkook. How has work been? Jimin tells us you’ve been getting more projects recently,” your old man asks. 

“Ah, yes, uncle,” he responds. “I’m getting more clients and exposure now. It took a while but it’s all going well.”

“That’s good. Although I always wondered why you never thought of joining a firm. Doesn’t that mean a more consistent client base? And better for you financially, too.”

“Well, I get to choose my clients and my projects as a freelancer,” Jungkook explains. “I control my time. And it allows me to take appointments at the tattoo parlor.”

“Oh, right, your hobby,” your dad nods. “I guess having multiple sources of income is the new trend these days.”

Jungkook just hums in agreement, already used to your dad’s frame of thought when it comes to a career. So are you, because it’s often the first thing he picks up on with your boyfriends. Each of your partners just happened to be working in corporate so there was never this line of questioning followed by an awkward silence. 

But Jungkook is just your brother’s best friend, as far as they know. You wonder how they’d react once you finally tell them the truth.

You don’t completely fault your dad, though. It’s less about judgment and more about practicality. He and your mom came from the generation that believed survival and security mattered more than passion. They always thought the latter could come later on in life, which is why they opened their own cafe not long ago, at a time when they were already pretty secure. You suppose it’s his way of looking out for you, which is why he’s always been concerned about your partner’s occupation.

The conversation changes, as the focus now turns to your parents and what they’ve been up to. You assist your mom in the kitchen while the men hang around, helping when they’re called upon. Jungkook stands near you, asking if you need him and attempting to feed you with a dumpling this time, but you manage to feed yourself and he merely looks at you in understanding.

Dinner is finally ready and you all head to the dining table. You take the seat next to your mom, across from Jungkook, and he looks at you curiously but you offer him an apologetic smile. You only told him that you’ll tell your parents about your relationship in person, which you planned on doing. 

That is, until your parents bring up your friends.

“Sweetie, Jin’s son is so adorable,” your mom chirps. “I saw the pictures on Facebook and the little one took after his father so much. I can imagine how happy he and his wife are.”

The topic of your dear friend and his family injects energy into you. You say how Jin’s been bragging about his mini-me but that the nursery you helped put together looks so beautiful. You were all there when his wife gave birth a few weeks ago and though you’re still unsure about having kids, you won’t deny how much it warmed your heart when Seo-yoon’s tiny fingers wrapped around your thumb. It’s not something you say though, as your mom eventually mentions Na-eun and her fiancé. 

“I read that he’s been promoted as Director of their company,” she says. 

Your dad pipes in that So-Hee’s new boyfriend is apparently the son of one of his former colleagues, and you’re quite frankly over the conversations about your friends’ partners. The insinuations aren’t lost on you.

“How do you even know these things?” You groan.

“Facebook,” your mom replies. “Of course I’m friends with all your friends. And it’s nice to know how well they’re doing since we don’t get to see them much anymore. You’ve reached that age of settling down, after all.”

“I guess,” you hum, no longer interested in the conversation. Jimin’s roll of his eyes tells you he feels the same. “Lots of good things are happening for them.”

You don’t mean to sound bitter and you aren’t. You adore your friends and genuinely love that things are looking out for them. You’re not the same person from months ago who felt lost and falling behind amongst them. Sure, things could be better career-wise, but you haven’t felt this much security in yourself and your relationship until Jungkook. Explaining why is a different thing altogether.

“What about you?” Your dad asks. “I know we’ve been calling every week to ask about your brother but we haven’t been checking in on you. I’m sorry, dear,” he continues, his eyes softening. “Is there anything new in your life?”

If the earlier conversations hadn’t happened, perhaps you’d willingly hint on the newest thing in your life, which is the relationship you have with the man currently looking at you with his doe-eyes in anticipation. 

But they did, and you know mentioning your friends’ partners was their way of subtly pressuring you about being with someone of similar stature. And you’re not really in the mood for that right now. 

So you end up doing the stupidest thing you possibly could, and that’s to lie. 

“Not really,” you say, hating the prolonged silence that follows. 

And as you look at Jungkook across from you, you see his face fall, and you hate even more that it’s because of you. 

Your lack of a follow-up prompts your parents to move on. They know that when you’re in the mood to talk, you will and when you’re quite passive, it means you aren’t. 

Your mom turns to Jungkook instead and asks him what else he’s up to other than his various jobs and looking after Jimin. He looks at you before his gaze shifts towards them.

“Not much else, auntie,” he replies. 

The crack of your heart knows you completely messed up, because if it stings like this, then you know it hurt him even more.

“Oh, is there no one special in your life?” She asks, as she often does. Given that she treats Jungkook as part of the family, she’s lost all filter when it comes to him, too. “I recently met with my friend and her daughter. She’s such a lovely young woman, Kook, she’s brilliant and oh so charming. She’s in Busan for the week, too. Do you want to—”

“Is it time for dessert?” Jimin butts in, not wanting this conversation to continue. 

He knows Jungkook wouldn’t know how to turn your mother down, and if he even slightly entertains the idea to appease her, you’d be the one upset, even if you technically put this upon yourself. Jimin already sees you a bit uncomfortable, and if there’s anything he can do to not make this worse for you and his best friend, it’s to be a brat. 

“Oh, yes. Your father made an apple pie and some ice cream,” she says. “Let me—”

“I’ll get it,” you offer, standing up from your seat now.

You don’t want to know what your mom’s other propositions would be. You’re sure she’ll find some person’s son to match you with, given that she’s done that a few times after your breakup with Namjoon. You’re also not ready for Jungkook to agree with her about meeting someone, even if you know he won’t mean it.

Which is really stupid because if you’d just told them the truth, then you’ll be having a completely different conversation, although you’re unsure if you’re ready for that one, too. But at least Jungkook wouldn’t look as upset as he does right now, as he’s resorted to picking on his food instead of finishing it, which tells you that he’s lost his appetite and that’s never a good thing. 

You go to the kitchen to slice the pie and scoop the ice cream. You do it so slowly to lengthen the time before you’re back there, only because you don’t want to know what else they’re talking about. 

You’re in the middle of cursing yourself when you feel the sting of a tiny pinch on your arm, and you yelp in pain and smack your brother’s chest in reflex.

“Ow!” You yell, frowning at the man before you and ignoring your mother’s order to “behave,” even if they’re used to you two quarreling. 

“You deserve that,” Jimin scowls at you. “Because what the fuck was that?!”

“I know,” you sigh, glancing at Jungkook who’s trying his best to be interested in what your parents are saying. “I… froze. You know what they wanted to hear, Chim. All those things about my friends’ boyfriends and what they do? I just didn’t want them to compare them to what Jungkook does if I tell them.”

“Why, what’s wrong with what he does?” Your brother raises an eyebrow.

“Nothing. It’s just… you know how focused they are on career stability and shit like that,” you try to explain. “You heard what dad was telling him earlier. I just didn’t want Jungkook to hear any underhanded comments from them and then feel bad about it.”

“And you think denying that you’re dating is any better?” He chides. “That’s literally worse!”

“I—”

“Jungkook knows how our parents are. And after you got together, he already anticipated that they’d question how he’ll be able to sustain your life together once you told them about your relationship,” Jimin explains. “He was ready for it. I doubt he anticipated this…”

You stand there, the crack in your heart getting deeper and bigger as the seconds pass. You hadn’t realized that Jungkook was already confiding in Jimin about any concerns he’d have about facing your parents. You suppose he would, given that you said you’d tell them when you saw them the one time that Jungkook asked if they knew, and you didn’t raise it again after. Living in your bubble together seemed more important, and you’d forgotten to mentally prepare yourself for this conversation.

“Chim, I fucked up,” you pout. 

If it were about anything else, Jimin would push it. It’s how you always were, and you’ve reached that point  in your relationship where you could call each other out and know it comes from a good place. But he doesn’t want to do this today, not when you’re already sad and guilty and he doesn’t want you to feel worse. He doesn’t want to take sides, even if he’ll admit that you were in the wrong, but he doesn’t want to antagonize you either.

“Hey,” he nudges your arm. “It’s not the end of the world. You’re both gonna figure it out. I don’t know how hard he’ll take this but he’s a really soft-hearted person, so just… keep that in mind, okay?”

You nod, wanting to believe that you’ll be able to fix it. 

“And don’t hate yourself too much,” your brother adds. “He’s really, really into you. I just know he won’t be able to resist you.”

You nod again but you think that just makes it worse. You doubt he expected that out of all the people to disappoint him, it would be you. Yet here you are. 

You and Jimin return to the table with the plated desserts. You hand one to Jungkook but he doesn’t acknowledge you. He doesn’t meet your eyes either when it’s all you try to do. He peacefully eats his apple pie while you feign interest at your parents talking about their recent weekend at a spa. 

When everyone’s done, he helps Jimin clean up. It’s how you know that Jungkook’s considered part of the family, as your parents don’t stop him from doing so, unlike when it comes to other guests or your friends. 

You watch helplessly as he washes the dishes, turning down your offer to help. You take the rest of the plates and walk towards him instead, standing close so you could place them in the sink. He just moves his arms to give you space then returns to his task, not sparing you a glance. 

You stay with your parents in the dining area to talk about their trip. They leave you with important documents and give you instructions should anything bad happen to them while they’re away, as they always do whenever they go on a trip. Everything is your responsibility as the eldest, they remind you. 

They finally go to their room to continue packing and you sit on the corner of the couch where Jimin and Jungkook have just finished watching some video of a guy reacting to other videos. You constantly glance at your boyfriend but he seems to be intent on not giving you attention because he’s not like this - he always wants to be close to you, needing his hand to be touching your arm or your thigh or even your hair, and his pretty eyes locked on you. But not tonight.

You recall how months ago, you avoided him because of what you started to feel. And perhaps this is how he felt then - helpless, unsure, and desperate for you to be next to him again. 

You find the tiniest bit of courage and call out his name, hoping he’d at least turn to you this time. 

“Kook, I’m—”

“Hey, we should probably play now so we finish early,” Jungkook nudges Jimin’s knee. “It’s been a long day; I don’t really want to stay up late.”

Your brother looks at you in apology as he responds to the man on his left in agreement. They both head up, leaving you rooted in your seat, wishing that Jungkook would turn around to tell you that he doesn’t mean creating this distance, but he doesn’t. 

And you wouldn’t blame him. You’d stay away from you, too.

You end up watching Aliens on your own, crouched on your corner of the couch with the large blanket over you. You give up after an hour, once the movie starts getting intense and scary though. There’s no Jungkook to hold you during the jumpscares, or to tease you about your screaming, or to assure you that he’ll protect you from all types of monsters. 

There’s no Jungkook next to you but you want him there, and it’s another half hour later when you decide that you’re not going to bed without speaking to him. 

You hate sleeping sad and upset. You don’t like ending the day not being on good terms with him. There are so many things you want to tell him but more than anything, you just want to hold him close. He always said he liked that, because even during the times when there’s so much to say or feel, falling into each other’s arms is the easiest thing to do. It says enough. It shows enough. And you’ve both survived misunderstandings and stressful moments by holding each other, and then holding each other closer.

Walking up the stairs and towards Jimin’s room, the nerves kick in. Jungkook has been ignoring you the whole evening and you’re unsure if he’s willing to hear you out. 

But you try, as you knock on the door, your heart beating fast when it slowly opens. Your brother’s downcast eyes meet you and you don’t need to say anything else. 

He opens the door wider then turns to the man lying on a mattress on the floor.

“Kook, my sister’s looking for you.”

You glance at him, dressed in that black tank top that always made you breathless, but once again, he avoids your gaze. But he does stand up after a nudge on the foot from your brother and walks over to you.

“Can we, uh…” you gesture towards the room just across the hallway.

He doesn’t say anything but he doesn’t shut you out, which is a good thing. You take it as your cue to start walking and you hear his footsteps right behind you. 

You let him in then close the door behind him. There’s so much you want to say, like you’re sorry and that you were stupid, that you didn’t mean to deny him but that you didn’t know how to tell your parents, or what you were even nervous about. You want to say that you just want to spend tonight wrapped up in his arms and apologizing in all the ways that you can.

But instead of uttering the words, your throat dries up. Seeing him standing there with that upset and disinterested look on his face breaks you a little. So you reach out, your hands pressing gently on his chest to try to feel him, to be close to him, hopefully to hold him and make your mistake go away. 

“Kook, I…” you tremble, trying so hard to find the words.

Jungkook looks back at you, your face nervous and unsure, unlike his that’s probably still painted with disappointment. 

He still doesn’t know what to make of your denial. He’s been trying to see things from your point of view all evening, but doing so only in his head because verbalizing them, especially to his best friend, makes it sting a bit more. Maybe Jimin can explain on your behalf but that would just confirm to Jungkook one of two things - that you don’t really intend on telling your parents about both of you for whatever reason he can’t comprehend, or you don’t think he measures up to their expectations and for that, you might just think he’s not good enough for you. 

He doesn’t think he’s ready for that, so he shuts Jimin down when he asks. They watched videos earlier to have something to laugh about but he was faking it. He suggested playing a game just so he wouldn’t respond to you calling him earlier but all they’ve done since going to the room is lie in silence. 

Jungkook doesn’t want to talk about it with his best friend. And he certainly doesn’t want to talk about it with you. He doesn’t want an explanation right now. It’s not what he wants to hear. 

And it seems as if it’s something you’re even struggling to give him, as you stand there quivering, your hands slowly trying to pull him closer to you. 

It’s what you usually do when you can’t find the words to express something - when you’re stressed and frustrated, when you want to patch things up after a small misunderstanding, when you want his comfort. And he always loved it when you did. He always willingly gave you that hug and that kiss and those whispers of “it’s okay” and “we’re okay” and “I’m just here.” 

But not tonight, not when there’s this unnamed thing that’s eating him inside, and not even you can fix it. 

“I don’t… I don’t really wanna do this right now,” he mutters, taking your hands to slowly slide them off him. 

The look of hurt in your eyes is one that’ll probably haunt him for a while, but he’ll learn to deal with that. It’s better than talking with you about something that you don’t even know how to express. 

This isn’t like him. It’s not like him to be upset at you like this, to not want to comfort you, to not want to be around you. This messes him up, too, and all he can do is step away and walk out.

He doesn’t really wanna be here, he thinks to himself as he enters the room just across, to the surprise of Jimin who half expected both of you to have made up. Jungkook would go home if he only brought his keys and it wasn’t too late to ask his parents to open the door for him.

But his best friend’s floor mattress will do for now. And so Jungkook puts on his earpods and plays whatever music is loud enough to shut out the thought of you until he falls asleep. 

In the other room, you lay in your bed in complete silence. You don’t want to cry, only because he’s not there to wipe your tears away. And you don’t ever want to know what that’s like, so you don’t. You keep the tears at bay and force yourself to drift away. 

You jerk awake the next morning to your mother knocking on your door. You promised to do errands with her today, so you get off the bed and yell out that you’ll just fix up.

“No rush, dear. I’m still having breakfast with your father. You can join us when you’re ready.”

You head down and eat the pastries that they brought from the cafe. You don’t have much appetite and these will suffice, but your mind goes to Jungkook and how he was craving kimchi fried rice and spam yesterday. 

So that’s what you make for him and Jimin. You even prepare iced coffee the way they like it. You’re about to set the dish aside for them to heat up when you hear rushed footsteps down the stairs and you know they’ve woken up.

“Wahhh, it smells so good,” Jimin exclaims as he walks over to the counter while his best friend sits on the table. “Did you make something, dad?”

“Oh, your sister cooked for you and Jungkook,” your father hums. “It’s making me hungry now.”

“There’s still some in here if you want,” you call out, with him responding that he’ll get some later.

You serve the dish in two bowls. You hand one to Jimin and then place the other in front of Jungkook without sparing him a glance. 

“Iced coffee is in the refrigerator,” you tell them. 

You hear Jimin’s little squeal before he gets them. “Where you off to?” He asks.

“I’m running errands with mom.”

“Make sure you two make it in time for dinner, okay?” Your father says.

“Of course. I can’t miss your steak, dad,” you give him a small smile. 

“Good. I prepared meat good enough for five Actually, six. I count Jungkook as two people,” he laughs. 

The thought of this comfort and familiarity hurts you because you’re the one who made Jungkook think otherwise. You see him smile at your father’s remark but you turn away when he looks your way. You know he’s still upset and you don’t want to force it if he’s not yet ready to speak with you. You also haven’t gotten over the way he pulled away from you last night, and so looking at him today is a little difficult.

“You’re still joining us at the party, right?” Jimin asks. 

Their friend, Hari, whom you know briefly dated Jungkook in high school, is celebrating her birthday tonight. Their group always looked to you as the cool sister so you’re always invited to whatever they’ve got going, and while the three of you talked about attending later, after what you did, you doubt Jungkook would want you to spoil his evening. You’re also not exactly in the partying mood for obvious reasons.

“I’ll pass, Chim,” you respond. “You guys should have a best friend night.”

You go back to your room to fix up before joining your mother to head out. 

Back in the dining room, Jimin nudges Jungkook’s knee.

“She’s still playing favorites,” he playfully rolls his eyes as he gestures to the generous amount of spam in his best friend’s bowl compared to his decent serving. 

Jungkook just hums, guilt forming that he didn’t even thank you for this because he really has been craving it. Before any of them could say anything more, your father speaks up.

“Your sister okay, son?”

“Uh, yeah? Why wouldn’t she be?” Jimin nervously answers.

“She just doesn’t seem like herself, that’s all,” your old man replies.

“Maybe it’s work. It’s been tough lately,” your brother reasons. 

“But she’s more tired and frustrated when it comes to work but that’s not what she is. Maybe it’s a guy.”

At this, Jungkook chokes on his food, and he’s glad your father doesn’t react.

“What makes you think so?” Jimin asks, his eyes flitting to his best friend.

“Hmm, it just seems different,” your father insists. “Or maybe it’s just wishful thinking on my end. She hasn’t introduced anyone since Namjoon. And I wish she would, just so we know she’s moved on, you know? And that the breakup isn’t still hurting her.”

“She has, and it doesn’t affect her anymore,” Jimin confirms, certain of at least that bit.

“Then why hasn’t she introduced anyone yet?”

“Maybe it’s because you really liked Namjoon, and he seems to be your standard so ___ is just probably just taking her time.”

“Well it’s because he’s smart and stable and very self-assured and—”

“Also very much married. And a soon-to-be father,” Jimin interjects, already being protective of you. 

He wonders now if this is how your parents talk about him to you, and that you’ve always just protected him from all of it.

“Oh,” your father sighs. “It could’ve been her.”

“But it isn’t and that’s totally fine,” Jimin exclaims. “She’s young and she’s got time. And who knows, maybe that’s not the life she wants, or at least not yet? If you could accept my version of happiness, you should be able to accept hers, too. And what does ‘stable’ even mean?”

“Someone with ambition, with a direction,” your old man explains. “Someone who’s secure and financially capable of sustaining this good life that your mom and I gave you both.”

“Those are all the things she is, too, you know?” Jimin frowns. “And also, I love you, dad, but you’re old. By that I mean your thinking is old. It’s outdated. You think stability is about prestige and money and I get that but… that’s not everything. There are other things that matter to her and if you lessened the pressure a bit, you’d see that. She’s your daughter, don’t you want her to be happy? To be loved?”

“Of course I do,” your father sighs. 

“Well then don’t let your version of what a good partner is dictate her life,” Jimin advises. “She’s a grown up, she knows what she wants and how to get it. But she’s also your daughter who doesn’t want to worry or disappoint you. What if she’s found someone who makes her happy and treats her right but she’s nervous of what you’d think because of all these expectations you have of her?”

Jimin’s eyes flit to his best friend again who’s quietly munching on his food but is clearly taking in this exchange. While Jimin still thinks you were wrong to deny your relationship, he at least hopes that Jungkook could understand what was going through your mind and it was all this. 

“Well if she has then I’d want to meet him,” your father insists. 

“And maybe you will, once she stops feeling the pressure of what she’s supposed to be for you and who she’s supposed to date,” Jimin explains. 

“I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right, dad,” Jimin groans. “I lived with her for months and she just… she worries about a lot of things. It would be nice if she doesn’t worry about this. So please, stop with all the projections and underhanded remarks, okay? She sees right through you. Just let her live her life.”

A smile forms on your father’s face. It was never his intention to put all that pressure on you but he supposes you just accepted that it comes with the territory. But he realizes it shouldn’t be. His son’s right - he’s old. He and your mother worked hard so that you and your brother could have a life where you didn’t have to worry about anything, but he supposes the intention got muddled along the way. At least you and Jimin have each other.

“I know you and your sister don’t like to admit it but it’s really touching to see how similar you both are,” your father says.

“Excuse me, I’m cooler and funnier and definitely more talented,” Jimin pouts. 

“Maybe,” your old man laughs. “But she’s sat on that same chair, lecturing me and your mom about letting you live your life and now you’re doing the same. She’s your biggest advocate and your biggest protector. It’s just nice to see how you’re the same for her.”

Running errands with your mother has always been your responsibility, but it’s once you’ve hit your late-twenties mark that you’ve come to appreciate it. 

You learn a lot about the practical stuff like insurance and emergency funds and inheritance when you accompany her to the bank. You’re also reminded that sometimes you have to spend more to make things last when she drops off her clothes at the laundry service and picks up the bag and shoes she had professionally cleaned. You also remember the important things like buying flowers and leaving them on your grandparents’ graves. 

You’ve just left the shopping center after she bought your father an anniversary gift, and her excitement over the satchel and perfume she got him has you smiling. You wonder how differently she feels for him 30 years later, and if this life they have together is everything she imagined it to be.

“Was it hard at the beginning? Being married to dad?” You ask. 

“Of course, dear,” she answers. “Because it’s how marriages typically go. Your father and I were together for two years before we got married and it was a big change. You just… learn to consider another person, and you get used to someone always being around you.”

“It’s a good thing you can stand each other then,” you chuckle. 

“That’s true,” she laughs back. “You’d be surprised to know how many married couples can’t. But we just always managed. And we had to be on each other’s side, you know? It’s the reason why we’ve lasted as long as we have.”

She looks quite emotional as she says the words and it’s probably because of what they’ll be celebrating soon but she turns to you with a smile.

“Your father’s parents wanted me to become a housewife, a stay-at-home mom who just ran the household,” she continues. “But I wanted to work so I could help my parents, and your father stood by my decision. He saw how working gave him financial freedom and he wanted that for me, too. And we just… worked hard. We fought a lot at the start because we were building our careers and raising a family but we knew it would all be worth it, as long as we stood by each other.”

“Then I suppose that’s what’s important in a partner, isn’t it?” You say. “Being dependable, being supportive, not… not what kind of career they have.”

“Well, a stable career helps,” she points out. “I mean, it’s how your father and I got to afford sending you and your brother to good schools. It’s how we could afford trips as a family and how your father and I can be secure at this age without needing much help from our children.”

“But that’s also because you worked hard, plain and simple. And you and dad had each other and overcame whatever challenges you faced together. You can’t say the same for all married couples,” you push. 

“That’s true. I mean, it wasn’t like this during our parents’ time. I guess people had less options then. The world’s changed so much, hasn’t it?”

“It has,” you hum. “Not everyone cares much about their partner’s upward mobility and stuff like that. They want to savor the good life their parents gave them. And because they work hard, too, they just want someone to enjoy it with them. You know, like me.”

There’s a beat of silence as your mother processes your words. 

“Is that why it didn’t work out with Namjoon?” She asks, reminding you that you’d only given them a general reason as to why things ended.

“We spent too much time planning for our future that we kinda lost our way,” you explain. “I guess that’s when I realized that I wanted someone to enjoy the moments with, regardless of what they do for a living. And we’ll never know what life will throw our way and I need someone who’ll stand by me, the way I’ll stand by them. You know, cheesy things like that.”

You smile to yourself as you think about Jungkook and his shameless affection that he shows in so many ways. You enjoy the cheesiness but you’ll deny it first before admitting it. But then again, he probably knows already. He pays attention to you after all. 

“Well, I suppose that’s why we wanted to give you and your brother a good and secure life, so that you can enjoy it,” your mother hums.

“Exactly. You raised us well, mom. We’re not gonna throw our lives away, however we choose to live it, and with whom,” you assure her. 

She gives you a warm smile. She takes your hand at the stoplight and caresses it. Perhaps it’s the assurance you need, too.

You return home to your father preparing the meat for tonight’s dinner. There’s a platter of steak, vegetables, and sausages that he’s seasoning to grill, and you can imagine how happy this is gonna make Jungkook. He always liked it when your dad prepared dishes like this paired with your mom’s spicy chicken soup, and you wish you could enjoy it together. 

But you’re giving him space to feel what he feels and you’re doing the same, even if all you want to do is apologize. You haven’t had an issue quite like this, so things are a little unfamiliar to you. You tried to talk to him last night but he wasn’t ready, and you’re unsure when he will be. 

You head towards the counter and cut up the vegetables for the soup before slicing the fruits. You’re focused on your task, knowing how sharp the knives are, but it’s at the same time that your brother and Jungkook arrive. Seeing your boyfriend look as good as he does in that denim jacket-over tank top fit is so sinful; it’s a crime you’re not talking that it distracts you, and it’s what causes you to slice through your finger and yelp in pain.

“Did you hurt yourself, dear?” Your mom asks as she stirs the pot. 

“Yeah,” you say, placing your hand under running water.

You’re about to ask Jimin to get the First Aid kit from the drawer but Jungkook gets to it first, knowing where it is. 

He knows that your brother, who’s terrified of blood, won’t help you, and despite your situation, Jungkook can’t stand not helping. So he lathers an antiseptic once the bleeding has stopped, then he wraps a band-aid around it. Just like him, you focus your gaze on your finger. Or maybe you’re stuck on the way he tends to you. Or the fact that this is the most physical touch you’ve done this past day when you normally can’t take your hands off each other. 

He sighs to himself. If he wasn’t so hung up on his hurt feelings, he’d be able to tend to you better. This might not even have happened if he’d just spoken to you last night. 

But he shakes the thought away. He’s still upset. But he’ll always want to take care of you; that’s the one thing that won’t ever change.

“Thank you,” you mumble, still not meeting his eyes.

“I’ll do this,” he says, waiting for you to step aside before he takes your place. 

“Jungkook dear, do you mind helping me with the glazed potatoes after you finish that?” She asks.

“Sure thing, auntie,” he replies. 

You watch him work around the kitchen the way he’s done so many times before, and your heart stings at the sight because you want to be doing this with him, with your parents, in your family kitchen. But it’s not like you could talk to him right now, not when you don’t know how to say what you want to say. So you head outside to where your dad is grilling the meat and help him instead. 

It’s not long after when dinner is ready, and you’re seated across Jungkook again. It’s a little tense when you look at him when he looks away, but Jimin thankfully finds a way to keep the conversation light and focused on him.

Your parents insist that both men don’t need to help clean up, and Jimin asks you if you’re really not going.

“Yeah I’ll just… stay home, make sure mom and dad are packed well and just get everything in order for tomorrow,” you say, half lying. 

“Gee, you make me look like a useless child,” Jimin pouts.

“You’re alright,” you hum. “You can drive them to the airport tomorrow.”

“But mom asked Jungkook to do that.”

“Well then you could just… make them a card or something,” you shrug. 

Your brother sticks his tongue at you and you do the same. 

“Fine, we’ll head out,” he announces.

“You guys have fun,” you say softly, glancing at Jungkook before walking towards the sink to do your duty. 

You turn to your brother. “Call me if you need me to pick you up. No driving drunk, okay?”

He salutes you in response then heads out after Jungkook.

It’s uneventful after that. You help your parents with last minute packing then have a long shower. You lie on your bed and mindlessly watch some movie on your laptop hoping that you’ll fall asleep soon, and that when you wake up, you’ll find the strength to go to Jungkook and tell him that you’re sorry and that you don’t want to go another day without him. 

“Hey, Jungkook. Dance with me.”

Jungkook looks up to find Hari and gives the same answer he’s given the last two times.

“Sorry, I’m injured,” he says. 

She raises her eyebrow as if she doesn’t believe him and he can’t blame her; he doesn’t exactly know how to act like it.

“Oh, Jimin. There you are,” she chirps as the said man approaches the table. “Dance with me.”

“Sorry, I'm injured.”

“Great. It’s my birthday and I spot two hot guys in this party without girls around them and they’re fake injured,” she scowls. “What’s up with you two?”

“I’m not in the mood,” Jungkook shrugs.

“I’m babysitting,” Jimin says, gesturing at his friend. “But Mingyu and Eunwoo are right there. Go tell them to dance with you.”

“Fine. I’ll get in line then,” she rolls her eyes then walks away.

“How come no one believes me when I say I’m injured?” Jungkook asks as he munches on the fried chicken wings his best friend got.

“Because you’re a terrible actor. People believe me because I’m believable,” Jimin hums.

“They believe you because you posted all over social media that you hurt your ankle,” Jungkook corrects. 

“Yeah but that was like, half a year ago.”

“Why are you even pretending you’re injured? You don’t have to stay with me, you know? Go to the dance floor and have fun. That’s your thing.”

“Well, maybe I’m also not in the mood because my best friend’s sulking,” Jimin frowns. 

“Gee, I wonder why.”

“You know my sister’s sorry, right?”

“She’s ashamed, that’s what she is. And I’m just supposed to live with that.”

Jimin sighs as he watches his best friend mindlessly stare out onto the dance floor. Jungkook’s probably trying to rid himself of the image of both of you dancing and kissing and having fun if you were here. He could be making sense of what he feels, or his mind could also just be completely blank right now.

But what Jimin knows is that another glass of whiskey is something that Jungkook shouldn’t be having, so he stops his best friend from ordering another one.

“You might get drunk and then you’ll call or go see her and then you’ll say things you’ll regret and then you’ll hurt her and you’ll get even more hurt and you’ll have a harder time fixing things and then it just won’t stop and you’ll feel stupid because you’re not talking over something you could easily fix,” Jimin heaves. 

It’s a lot to process but Jungkook knows that Jimin’s right. He’ll just get too emotional and won’t be able to control himself and despite what he feels, hurting you is the last thing he wants.

So he orders water instead, finishes it, then heads for the door.

“I don’t wanna be here anymore,” he says. “I need to get some air.”

They end up at a park, the one that you used to hang at with your friends in high school. Jungkook knows because he always accompanied Jimin there when you’d tell him where to meet you. It’s peaceful at this time of night and much more beautiful, too. It’s no surprise he keeps thinking that you’re right next to him, with your head on his chest and laughing at his jokes. 

“Why is this affecting me so much?” He wonders out loud. “Why am I so hurt and so stubborn?”

“Because she said something she shouldn’t have. But also because you put her on a pedestal,” Jimin answers. “She made a mistake, and you’re free to fault her for it. I mean, anytime someone we care about hurts us, it sucks like hell. But you also have to think that maybe it’s affecting you as much as it does because she’s always been faultless in your eyes and she isn’t.”

The reality is a slap on the face, but one that Jungkook thinks he needs to have. You were everything he ever wanted and these past three months have been a bliss. But now that reality hits and you have to face the pressure that’s part of your life, your humanness is showing. And that’s what he’s always liked about you, isn’t it? The imperfections and the flaws? Now that those are affecting him, it’s affecting him hard, and he’s having a hard time getting over it.

“Maybe once you accept that she’s human and not just the dream you’ve had since forever, then you’ll realize that things like that happen but she never means to hurt you,” Jimin adds. “You can’t think that she does. You learn to work it out by facing it, Kook. You have to talk about it. You have to tell her it hurts and you have to listen to what she says, and then you forgive. That’s kind of how grownup relationships go.”

“Guess I’ve never had one before, huh?”

“Maybe they just didn’t mean enough to hurt you.”

“This means everything, then,” Jungkook sighs, as things get clearer in his mind. “Because I think what hurts more now is not being next to her.”

“Great! Then can both of you patch things up now?” Jimin beams, feeling hopeful. “I hate seeing both of you sad and so stupid. Plus, my parents are leaving tomorrow and you won’t have a buffer anymore. So please just talk.”

Jungkook admits feeling touched. He knows at the end of the day, Jimin cares about him and you more than anyone, and he probably misses being around both of you at the same time. Jungkook does, too, but he misses you the most and it’s only been a day.

“Tomorrow,” he says. “I don’t know what to tell her and it’s late. She might be asleep and—”

“Now you’re just making excuses,” Jimin crosses his arms.

“Well, what if I expect her to be the one to talk to me?”

“She tried but you didn’t want to, remember?”

“That was last night. The wound was still fresh,” Jungkook pouts. 

“Oh god. I feel like I’m dealing with children,” Jimin groans.

“Imagine how we felt taking care of you,” Jungkook answers back.

“At least I was just one person,” Jimin rolls his eyes. 

“Your dramatics were equivalent to two people though.”

Both men bicker as they walk back to the car. It started to drizzle so they decided to go back to their respective homes. Jungkook could stay over at your place and maybe talk to you if he really wants to but he’s seriously just chickening out over it. 

He’s never had to make up with you because none of your previous arguments ever led to you not talking to each other, or him pushing you away. He’s never had to spend a day ignoring you. And now, there’s so much to say and so much to feel but he doesn’t know how to approach it. He’ll need tonight to sort himself out and then he’ll speak to you, maybe after he drives your parents to the airport. Or maybe on the way back. 

He drops Jimin off; 30 seconds later, he’s home, too. You’re so close but so far away just like you used to be. But at least this time he knows that when the next day comes, he’ll have a chance to just pull you close and tell you he doesn’t want to be like this ever again.

There’s an incessant knocking on your door, and as you’re about to yell out that you’re asleep, you realize it might be Jungkook. You sit up on your bed and when the door opens and you see your brother instead, your face falls.

“It’s just me, unfortunately,” he says. “Kook’s back at his place.”

“Oh,” you sigh. “Why are you home so early? It’s like, 11.”

“Because after the third girl, his fake injury excuse wore off and people just didn’t believe him. We looked like losers sitting on the table eating chicken,” Jimin chuckles. “So we left after an hour then went to a park and I knocked some sense into him and now he’s not so upset anymore. And I’m here to knock some sense into you, too.”

“I already know I made a mistake, Chim. I’m… I’m so fucking stupid. I just… don’t want him to think that I’m ashamed of him or that I don’t think he’s enough or any of that. I mean I’m—”

“Crazy about him, right?”

“I kinda am,” you smile softly.

“Good, because so is he and he’s hoping you’d go talk to him even if he says he’ll talk to you tomorrow. Don’t waste time anymore and—”

You’re bolting off your bed and putting on your hoodie before your brother could finish his sentence. 

“If mom and dad look for me, tell them I—”

“Got attacked by a clown in the sewer.”

You look at him incredulously then realize you’re wearing yellow then you frown. 

“Just make up some excuse. I’ll… hopefully be back in the morning,” you say.

“Alright. It’s drizzling though so—”

And just like that, you’re gone.

It takes all but 10 seconds for the rain to pour, and your hoodie and sweatpants are no match for it. You groan at your brother for underselling the weather but then again, you also should be thanking him for telling you what you needed to hear - that Jungkook’s not so upset anymore and that he’s hoping you’d speak to him. 

Much as you think you would’ve taken any chance today to patch things up, you also would’ve frozen in front of him. You suppose you needed to know he was ready for you, and if he wouldn’t tell you, then of course, Jimin would. You just really wish he had the foresight to know it would rain this hard but you’re probably asking for too much. 

But Jungkook’s place is just a few blocks from yours so you power through. When you get there, you realize that you forgot your phone, so you make the stupid decision of climbing over the short fence and then hitting your cut finger in the process. 

You have no time to feel pain though, as the next order of business is getting Jungkook’s attention. But before you can execute your plan of throwing rocks on his window, the front door opens, and you telepathically thank your brother who probably called your boyfriend to alert him that you’ll be arriving at his place wet from the rain.

“___, what are you doing here?” Jungkook asks with worry painted on his face. 

“I just… I needed to come and see you,” you manage to answer.

His face softens and you feel the hope bloom in your chest. He pulls you inside by the wrist and instructs you to quietly go up the stairs. You’re at least not drenched but you still got wet, so he leads you to the bathroom to wash up. He tells you to wait as he gets you something to change in, and he returns after half a minute with a towel and a large shirt.

“Cream and band-aid, for your wound,” he says, placing them on the counter. “My room’s the second door to the right, in case you forgot.”

You take him in, in his black tank top and shorts, his tongue playing with his lip ring the way he always does when he’s nervous. You manage to nod before he heads out, and you take a quick shower and then pull his oversized shirt over you. 

You quietly walk to his room, knocking on the door first before opening it slowly. It’s a bit dim but seeing him is all you need. After placing your clothes on the nearby chair, you look at him again. 

He looks tired and worried. He also looks like he has so much to say but he doesn’t know where to start. There’s a hint of sadness in his eyes but there’s longing, too, and you suppose he’s mirroring how you look. You feel a lot. You also want to say a lot, but you don’t know where or how to start. 

So you do the one thing you know often works. You approach him then wrap your arms around his torso. You fall into his embrace as quickly as he falls into yours, as he seems to have the same idea. You hold him tighter and pull him closer. You flush your cheeks on his chest while he buries his face on your neck. You grip his top and he does the same with yours. Your heart beats fast in longing and you feel his own do the same, too. 

There’s so much to feel and say but this is all you can do. And right now, it’s quite enough. 

You loosen your grip, but only so you could nuzzle his neck while your arms wrap around them. He feels so warm and he smells so delicate and he’s all you need.

“You knew I was coming?” You ask, turning to him

“Jimin said you were on your way without an umbrella and your phone,” Jungkook chuckles. But his face softens as he wipes the lone tear that falls down your cheek. “You’re lucky it wasn’t a typhoon or anything.”

“I had to get to you,” you mumble. 

“He also told me he wasn’t subtle in telling you to come here.”

“Well, he did say you wanted me to talk to you. And I wanted to. I just wasn’t sure if you were ready to hear me out and I was… giving you space.”

“Yeah well, I don’t know what to do with that space without you there,” he sighs, his eyes shy and absolutely adorable.

“Neither do I,” you smile. “So, uh. Will you invite me to your bed, maybe fill that space and more?”

“Of course,” he laughs, taking your hand and leading you there. 

You get under the covers and once he lies next to you, you scoot closer, hugging him again until you’re laying on top of him. But he doesn’t complain. He just hugs you back tightly, pulling you closer until he’s able to bask in your scent and the warm feel of you.

But despite the relief, you know you actually have to do the talking. You pull away and lay on your side. You take in his beauty and his softness and the way they make you feel like all is right again in the world. Your fingers trace his face, from his nose to his cheek to his lips, and he does the boyfriend thing of kissing your hand - including your cut finger - before wrapping it around his waist. He looks like he’s anticipating your words, too, so you try and hope they’re enough.

“Kook, I’m so sorry,” you start. “I… I have no excuse. I was being selfish and cowardly because I didn’t know how to tell my parents. I didn’t want to deal with what they’ll say about your job, knowing how they are and what they value and I just…”

“That’s for me to deal with though,” he says. “Because I chose this. And I’ve always known how they are but I still chose you.”

“It’s for us to deal with, and I did it so terribly,” you shake your head. “I don’t want you to think that I’m ashamed of you and what you do. That freedom, the ability to create… they’re things they don’t really understand. And I thought I knew how to make them. I just ended up denying us and that was so wrong. I’m so sorry.”

“I… I get it,” he responds, caressing your cheek now. “They worked so hard to give you this life and of course they want to make sure you’re taken care of. And for them, they only know of one way that could happen. I’d be naive to think they’ll just accept that the man who’s crazy about their daughter isn’t some corporate dude with secure employment and upward mobility in his career.”

He doesn’t miss your shy smile and the way you nibble your lip and that just triggers the butterflies in his belly. 

“But that’s for me to show them that I can take care of you, and not because you can’t do it yourself but because I want to,” he adds. “I… I wanna be that person who makes things better and easier for you and who makes you happy.”

And who makes you feel loved, he doesn’t say. That’s a conversation for another day, he thinks.

“You do,” you assure him. “And I feel it everyday. You’re good at that, and I don’t tell you enough.”

“I know now,” he smiles, leaning closer to kiss you softly. 

You return it but pull away. “Do you forgive me?”

“Of course I do,” he says, falling into the kiss that he gives again.

“Okay. I don’t wanna hurt you like that ever again.”

Your pouty face tugs his heart and he wants to tell you that none of that matters now because you’re back in each other’s arms, and that’ll always be enough for him. 

He just hums as he goes for another kiss that’s deeper this time. And when you let him push you to lay on your back as you moan against his lips, his heart soars even more. He’s missed you, and it’s definitely going to be a long night.

He hovers over you now, and he shivers when your fingers graze his neck and then his chest. You open your legs to meet his hips, and the feel of your clothed cunt against him has his brain short-circuiting. He gets in the rhythm of grinding against you while he kisses your lips then your jaw then your neck, his hand now sneaking under your shirt to fondle your breast.

It’s when he sucks on that sensitive part near your ear that you yelp in pleasure, and he immediately covers your mouth with his hand while he giggles.

“Gotta keep it down babe,” he whispers. “My parents are in the other room.”

But he doesn’t stop his kissing and you don’t really want him to.

“It’s not like you’re making it any easier,” you moan as he pinches your pert nipple.

“I’m not and I won’t, but you gotta try,” he smirks before his lips trail downward.

You’re unable to say anything once his tongue swirls around your buds. His hands wrap around your breasts that he praises, that he kisses and licks before slowly letting them go to hold onto your waist this time. He presses open-mouth kisses down your torso, his lips in tandem with your underwear that’s teasingly being removed off of you. 

You hear him let out a breathy moan as he spreads your legs wider. 

And while you know that this tender-hearted man has a cheeky streak in him, you didn’t expect for him to have his finger against his lips to shush you, knowing what he’s about to do. His smug face turns you on even more, and your breath is caught in your throat once you feel his tongue flat against your flesh, warming it up before the tip of his wet muscle swirls around your nub.

But you go along with his request, biting back your moan, even as your pussy chases his mouth for more. 

And it’s what he gives, as he dives in and sucks and bites your clit while his two fingers explore your hole. The cold of his lip ring is a contrast to how hot you feel, and it’s a sensation you can never get enough of. You whimper in silence but you manage to look at him, his eyes closed as he buries his face in your cunt. 

“Look at me,” you whisper and he follows, his gaze meeting yours. “Fuu-uuck, Kook. You feel so good,” your voice quivers.

His mouth’s full but yours is hanging open. You cover yours with your free hand while the other pulls on his long locks. He’s enjoying this so much, you can tell with the way he squeezes your thighs and moans against your skin. He follows a pace that has your body shaking, straining in intense pleasure until it gives in. You let out a low scream as your orgasm hits, and he’s right there, riding out your high with you.

He cleans you up with his tongue and then makes a show of licking your essence off his fingers before kissing you again.

“You did good,” he teases, as he caresses your cheek.

You’re about to say that so did he when bucks his hip against yours, and the feel of his hard cock against your still wet cunt ignites another fire in you. He repeats it, and it’s what has you moaning again.

“Fuck baby, I told you to keep it down,” he says, continuing his movements.

You know you can’t help it at this point, not when he’s back to licking your neck and kneading your breast.

“Whatever. Not like this isn’t new to your parents or anything,” you say. 

It’s a guess but you doubt you’re wrong.

“What? Fucking a girl in my room?” 

“Yeah?”

“But you’re the first girl I ever brought in here,” he cocks an eyebrow. 

“That’s uh, that’s kinda sweet,” you reply, your breath steadying now. 

“Yeah and well, who gets to say they fucked their childhod crush in their childhood bedroom?” He smirks again. “I can.”

He’s back to kissing you and much as you enjoy this, the itch to feel him in your mouth overtakes you, and you take the chance when he trails down your neck.

“So, can this childhood crush suck your dick?” 

“Yes, she can,” he chuckles.

He removes himself from you and leans against his bed frame. You get on your knees and pull off his boxers, salivating at the sight before you. You get on top of him, your damp lips gliding against his hard cock and his mouth drops open, an invitation for you to do what you wish.

With your movements on his hips, you focus on his neck, licking up the smooth flesh and the protruding vein that has him biting back his moan. Then you kiss him, desperately and passionately, as you slowly remove his tank top and rest your hands on his chest.

It’s your turn to trail kisses down his torso now and you give every inch of him ample attention. But when you make it further down, there’s one part of him that deserves so much more. You tease him only a little, stroking his length and kitten-licking his slit, before swallowing him whole and swirling your tongue around and all over his cock. He’s hard and thick and everything you want inside of you.

You hold back a gag while he holds back his whimpers. You stroke him relentlessly so you could watch his mouth hang open and his strained body almost folding in pleasure as his thighs tighten in your hold. 

“You like that, baby?” You hum.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good around me. Fuck,” he keens, his voice quivering now. 

You let his sounds guide you on how hard and how deep to go, but he’s the one who stops you, as he leans close and captures your lips in a searing kiss. He pulls you back on top of him to slide down his cock and the stretch makes you moan in his mouth. 

He’s propped up on his arms for support while you move up and down, loving how he drags inside you in an angle that has your mind going hazy. You wrap your arms around his neck while he pushes upward to meet you, and somehow doing this while trying to be quiet is making the pleasure more intense.

It gets too much for Jungkook and he wants more. He wants to hit your deepest spots. He wants to be as close to you as he possibly can. He wants to swallow your moans and touch every part of your body and pleasure you in every way that he’s able. 

So he pulls you off and lays you on your side, sliding back in from behind, with your one leg raised. The angle has you keening, even more when his one hand finds your breast and the other does its work on your clit. He pushes gently then roughly, no longer caring about the odd sounds the bed is making against his wall. He wouldn’t mind making up a reason to his parents if they ask him about it. Right now, all he wants is to reach his peak with you. 

Your body is shaking in pleasure and overstimulation but you urge him, wanting to feel his seed inside you as well.

You lick his mouth. “Baby please, I want to feel your cum inside me,” you beg. “I want you so bad, fuck fuck.”

He loves it when you plead to him like this. He loves hearing what he does to you. He revels in the way your body molds into his, the way it aches to be close and to be one with him. His movements continue, and with his unrhythmic pounding against your pussy, he comes. You come right after, caused by his intense fiddling of your clit, and you feel like floating, your body in the clouds of pure pleasure.

But like always, he’s there with you, making sure you safely fall into a bed of hugs and kisses and warmth. He stays inside you as he softens, but his arms wrap around you, his face in your neck as he mumbles words of praise. 

“Fifteen-year-old me would never believe this,” he heaves as he turns you over to face him.

You giggle in response. 

“You’re crazy, you know that?”

“I do. It’s how I am with you. In the best way, of course,” he smiles his boyish smile, an interesting mix of innocent and cheeky.

“It’s the same with me,” you whisper, kissing his nose. “And 18-year-old me would never believe this.”

You wake up the next morning to the alarm that you set on Jungkook’s phone. Your parents are leaving early in the afternoon and they wanted to prepare breakfast for all of you, and it’s a meal with them that you’re excited and a little nervous to have. 

You kiss the chest that your face is flushed against, and this elicits a groan from the man next to you. 

“Good morning, babe,” you greet, shifting up to kiss his nose this time. 

“G’morning,” he grunts.

“So, uh, we’re supposed to meet my parents for breakfast. And uh, I’m going to tell them about us.”

It’s what prompts him to finally open his eyes, and the softness in them makes your heart burst. 

“Okay,” he smiles. “I hope it won’t ruin their trip or anything.”

“It won’t,” you assure him. “I… I tried to get through to my mom yesterday. You know, just telling her the things I value and stuff.”

“Hmm. Jimin did the same with your dad. I guess I won’t be such a disappointment now, huh?”

“Shush, you’re not even that,” you pout. “I think they’ll understand.”

He mirrors your smile and there’s a giddy feeling at finally - hopefully - seeing your parents be happy for you. So you get off the bed and sneak out of Jungkook’s bedroom to go to the bathroom. 

You wash up quickly, only to make it to the hallway and find his parents standing there, wide-eyed as they look at you in surprise. You realize you’re only wearing Jungkook’s shirt that falls just above your knees and you try to cover whatever you can with your hands.

“Hi, uncle. Hi, auntie,” you shyly smile. “This, uh, this isn’t how I wanted to meet you.”

“Well, we don’t really mind,” Jungkook’s mother smiles. “We’re just glad you’re here. It’s been a while since we’ve seen you.”

“I know. I, uh, I wasn’t dating your son yet the last time I was here.”

“And that calls for a celebration, doesn’t it?” She giggles. “That boy has had a crush on you since forever. It’s funny he never believed that we knew. He wasn’t exactly subtle.”

“It’s not the first time I’ve heard that,” you laugh back.

You hear a door open and before you know it, large arms are wrapping around your waist and a mop of hair tickles your cheek. Jungkook grunts against your neck as he says that he’s finally awake, and you cringe at his parents’ amused faces.

“Kook, your parents are in front of us. This is so embarrassing.”

“Nah, they don’t mind. They’re cool,” he says.

“Yeah, and my parents aren’t,” you sigh.

“So, I’m guessing your parents don’t know yet?” His father asks.

Your pout prompts him to explain. “Well, the day after you got together, our lovesick son here told our family about both of you. But he said that you haven't told your parents yet so we’ve kept it from them ever since. It’s hard since we see them all the time but we managed.”

“Kook also told us about what happened,” his mother asks. “He was grumpy all day yesterday and we got him to tell us why he was so upset.”

“I’m sorry,” you pout again. “That wasn’t my finest moment.”

You feel Jungkook’s hold on you tighten, his way of telling you it’s all okay.

“It’s alright, darling,” she smiles. “We know how your parents are, and their reasons come from a good place. We tried to make this boy here understand them and you as well. Firstborns carry immense pressure to meet expectations; he just doesn’t get it because he’s the youngest. But it seems that it’s worked out with both of you, and we’re glad it did.”

“He couldn’t resist me,” you shrug, to his parents’ amusement. 

“Uh, you’re the one who walked through the rain to come see me,” he reminds you, his head popping out of your neck now. 

“You wanted me to.”

He tickles you in response and you’re all laughing in no time. It’s a different dynamic with his parents, as Jungkook always had a very close relationship with them. You saw it as a teenager and now, you get to be part of it, too.

They finally let you go and ask you to have dinner with them tomorrow, and that’s one meal that you’re definitely excited to have. 

You push Jungkook towards the bathroom and then return to his room to dress up. It’s shortly after when you’re both walking the few blocks to your house, fingers interlocked as you give each other comfort.

You make it home and once you unlock the door, you can already hear laughter and clanking pots from the kitchen. You head there, meet Jimin’s smug face, and clear your throat to announce your presence.

“Oh, there you are. We were wondering where you were,” your mother says. “And hi, Jungkook.”

He greets your parents and from behind you, you take his hand again. 

“I went for a walk… with Jungkook.”

He clears his throat and you backtrack.

“I mean, I, uh, was at his place. That’s where I slept.”

“Oh?” Your parents say at the same time, their eyes looking at you in confusion.

“He’s kinda my boyfriend.”

“Kinda? Babe, I think I’m more than ‘kinda’ your boyfriend,” he exclaims. 

Your parents look shocked and next to them, Jimin is laughing in his seat.

“I mean, he is my legit, actual boyfriend,” you correct. “The new thing in my life that I denied is actually him. And the person who stands by me, who makes me enjoy the moments? That’s him, too.”

Their faces soften, and somehow that’s the comfort you need. Perhaps all the talking that you and your brother have done has gotten into them. You wouldn’t be surprised if they talked about it, too.

“Why didn’t you tell us, then?” Your mother asks.

“Because he’s not what you expected,” you sigh. “And I didn’t know how you’d take it.”

“Well, he is your brother’s best friend,” she points out. 

“Who’s had a crush on me since he was a teenager,” you explain.

“That’s… not surprising,” your father laughs. “We could tell.”

“Oh my god, Kook. You are not subtle,” you elbow him. You turn back at them. “But I… I didn’t know how to tell you because you expect me to have a partner who’s part of your world, you know? And Jungkook likes his freedom. He likes his art and… he really likes me. And I happen to really like him, too.”

“He treats you well? Makes you happy? He’s someone you can depend on when things get tough?” Your father asks. 

He smiles tenderly at you and you feel like crying.

“Yes, very much,” you nod.

“Then I think he’s everything we need him to be. A good partner, I’d say.”

You let out a sigh of relief. This is all you needed to hear.

“We’re sorry if you felt like you couldn’t be honest with us,” your mother shakes her head. “I guess we just needed some reminding of what we want for you and your brother. And well, Jungkook’s shown us his heart all these years. He’s always been a part of the family and he’ll be even more.”

They’re words that Jungkook didn’t expect would get him emotional, and he hugs you from behind just to steady himself. But it’s what makes your mother walk towards him for a hug, and your father surprisingly does the same. 

“Alright, I guess it’s fitting to have this family breakfast together,” your mother says.

You all take your seats at the dining table, with yours being next to Jungkook now.

Jimin cheekily smiles. “Well, if this whole dance thing doesn’t work out, I guess I can just be a counselor or family therapist or something.”

“Just don’t call your clients ‘stupid,’” you roll your eyes.

“I won’t. That’s only reserved for you.”

And just like that, everything is as it should be.

You get through breakfast with lots of laughter, as you and Jungkook tell your own versions of the story while Jimin butts in to tell his own. It’s heartwarming to see your parents this way, especially when they tease your boyfriend about his crush on you growing up. 

But even they admit that they’ve depended on him all these years, too, and that they don’t doubt his loyalty and commitment to you. 

You share a tense moment with him after you all drop your parents to the airport, though. Jungkook has just unloaded all their things and as they hug you goodbye, your father teases.

“Just don’t welcome us home and tell us we're grandparents already.”

Jungkook dry laughs and so do you. That’s another topic for another day, you suppose, and while you’re still unsure of having a family, you just know it’s something you’ll both talk about.

You all get home soon after to wash up. Jungkook’s excited about how you’ll spend the day now that you’re both talking again, and you suggest hanging by the beach and then going out for dinner. 

Jimin says he’ll stay home to let you two make up for the past two days and so he could have that online date with Taehyung, and you agree.

You and Jungkook end up having a really good day. 

You go to a mall and walk around. He gets you a pair of stud earrings to commemorate the day you went official to your parents and you buy him a silver chain necklace for the same silly reason, but also because he looks really good in one and you want him to have more. It pairs real nicely with the shirt and joggers casual outfit he’s been sporting these past days, and the teasing look he makes after he puts it on reminds you of that one time his necklace was dangling on your face when he was pounding into you on your couch.

You get fruit drinks and snacks at the stalls you both used to buy from as teenagers, then you head to the beach where you lounge until sunset. You wade in the water, splash each other, and then make out when there’s no one around. 

You feel so free and light, so young and hopeful. These are the moments you love having with him, the ones you like to enjoy and savor and have more of. And you know you’ll have them for the rest of this trip and when you get back to Seoul. 

Jimin joins you for dinner at a burger place, then you all buy cup noodles and beer and head to your favorite park. It’s just like how most of your nights together go, just in the outdoors. You and your brother bicker and Jungkook referees; there’s also the occasional “you’re so cheesy” comment from you to your boyfriend and Jimin’s gagging sound. 

You confirm plans for the rest of the trip. Your parents will be enjoying Hawaii for close to two weeks, and you have all that time to rest and spend time with your two favorite people. You’ll be off work. Jungkook has some projects to finalize while you do your own thing, and Jimin will be watching dance shows to get him inspired. 

But there are more beaches and parks and villages to visit. There’s also that two-night stay at a resort you’ll be having. There are other sites and restaurants to go to, and you’ll be reliving your teenage years together while making new memories.

You’re now back at home, snug in Jungkook’s arms as he leans against the bed frame in your room, with you in between his legs. 

“Today was a really good day,” you say, turning to him after he kisses your cheek.

“Today was amazing,” he hums.

He smiles as he replays the scenes of you shopping for each other, frolicking on the beach, and walking around your favorite spots. They’re all so simple and things you’ve done before but today felt so much more. There was a look in your eyes that held such tenderness and care for him. You held his hand as if you didn’t want to ever let go, as if you didn’t want him to.

“I really like you, Kook,” you mumble, almost like a confession, as if it’s not known. “I don’t know how else to say it.”

His eyes soften, as does his smile that he’s had on pretty much the whole day. But he just looks at you, and though you know he feels the same way, you want to hear him verbalize it again.

“Hey, say it back,” you nudge him. 

“I love you though,” he says after a beat of silence.

You’re now the one who looks at him, unable to say a word. 

“Are you that surprised?” He looks back at you nervously, nibbling his lip ring. “I mean, I think it’s quite obvious, just like everything I feel about you is.”

“Kook, I…” you try, but you don’t exactly know how to respond. 

You don’t doubt his feelings but somehow you can’t help but think that maybe right now, he loves the idea of you and not you, and there’s a difference.

“I think I always have but I guess I didn’t realize just how much until this whole thing happened,” he continues, wanting you to understand what he feels. “I asked Jimin why it was affecting me so much and he said it’s because I put you on a pedestal. You were this dream I’ve had for so long that I admired from a distance and now I get to be with you and you’re… human, not some flawless being who doesn’t make mistakes. So when you hurt me, I faltered. That’s on me, too. Because I… I expected too much. And I’m sorry.”

His focus is on his hands that are playing with yours before he turns to you again.

“I realized that I wanted so badly for you to want me, that’s why it hurt. I wanted to be that person you cared for and trusted and needed because you’re all that for me. And when I saw you at my door last night, nothing else mattered but you,” he continues. 

“Whatever misunderstanding or mistake or disagreement, I learned to accept them and I just wanted you, in my arms, so I could show you that you’re all I need. I’ve dreamt of you for so long and this version of you is more than I could’ve imagined. And I just… I love you, okay? It doesn’t matter how you feel. I just need you to know that I do, and I don’t think I’ll stop.”

Your heart is about to burst, and all you could do is cup his face in your hands and kiss him, hard and deep until you run out of air. You kiss him eagerly because you’re desperate for his touch. You kiss him passionately because there are things you feel that you can’t put into words yet, and this is how you tell him. 

He’s quick to follow your pace, wrapping his arms around your waist as he helps you sit on his lap. Your fingers comb through his hair and grip his top and pull him closer, all while you grind against him and moan in his mouth. 

But when he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and caresses your cheek, you go tender. 

“I love you so much,” he whispers against your lips, and all you feel is the warmth of his touch and how it’s all the comfort and security and stability that you need.

You slowly pull away and graze your nose against his. You don’t say anything else and he doesn’t expect you to. But you kiss his cheek and hug him, and you hear him sigh in relief.

He pulls away and cheekily smiles. 

“You know, there’s a song for this.”

“A—what?” You laugh.

“A song.”

He pulls away from you then stands from the bed. “Let me get it from Jimin’s room.”

You stare at him questioningly because you really didn’t think he could surprise you even more. He returns with one of his burned CDs and you ask him if he has a sex playlist or something. 

“I used to daydream about you to this,” he says, as he puts it in the CD player that your parents got you for your 17th birthday. “I listened to it after that very kiss we had and, well, we’re back home rehashing so many memories and I kinda just want to fulfill another fantasy of mine.”

He plays the song and the first notes get you all giddy and excited and nostalgic and very much turned on. 

“This was my favorite song,” you say, as you signal him to come closer.

“I know. You played it all the time, I could hear it from the other room.”

You giggle, and it’s a sound he wants to listen to forever. 

“So, what’s this fantasy of yours?” You ask, as you take your shirt off.

He licks his lips at the breathtaking sight of you, but he softens at the fairy tattoo on your shoulder, the one he customized and that you love showing off.

“Just… make love to you while this plays in the background,” he manages to say. 

Your face softens, too, and it’s a sight he also wants to see everyday of his life.

“I’m all yours, Kook. Do whatever you please.”

It’s a week later when you tell him. 

You’d just gotten back from that short trip to a resort that had you relaxed and stuffed with food. You video called with your parents during their sunset cruise and your father once again teased about not being grandparents yet and just like the first time, you brushed it off. 

You’re lying on Jungkook’s chest as you laugh about Jimin’s terrible bowling skills. And in the silence, he asks, “does it bother you that your parents expect you to have kids?”

You knew he’d picked up on it the first time, but it’s just now that he’s bringing it up.

“A little. I try not to think about it though,” you sigh. “It’s another one of those expectations, you know? But I guess it’s a harder thing to talk to them about, that I don’t know if I want kids.”

He just hums and combs your hair with his fingers.

“Does it bother you?” You ask, suddenly feeling nervous. You know enough this is a make-or-break for many people. 

“Not really,” he says. “It’s not easy to raise a child, much less carry one, and that’s something I can’t do for you. But I guess, it doesn’t matter. We can have kids. Or not. We can have a dog or a pet tortoise or a fish, really. When I think of a future, all I see is you. The rest is just a bonus.”

He speaks of your future with such certainty. He’s always talked about enjoying the moments but the one version of a future he wants is the one where you’re with him. 

“I just want you to know that whatever you’re worried about, share it with me. I don’t want you to worry about me. We do this together. We figure it out together,” he adds. 

And just like that, the fears and pressure you feel slowly dissipate. He’s the only version of the future you want. Everything else is just a bonus. 

You turn to him with a kiss on his cheek. 

“I love you, Kook. I don’t want anyone else to love me, and I don’t want to love anybody else,” you whisper like a plea, just like a promise. 

“I’m not loving anybody else,” he kisses you. 

And it’s his own promise he makes.

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[taesanrot]

[from the start] taesan x f!reader | 4.0k words college au, classmates to lovers, making out, alc consumption ++ terrible drunk decisions lmao, angst kinda, misunderstanding, mutual pining, fear of physical touch at first, everyone is just a little confused note. sorry this took literally so long to finish, i kept changing my mind on how i wanted it to go. fun fact the original idea for this fic was based on my real life situationship. hope u guys enjoy <3

you shouldn't be here. you should be sleeping off the alcohol flowing through you in your own bed, at your place. you shouldn't be here, pressed against taesan's chest, your mouth molded against his.

up until a few hours ago, han taesan was nothing but a fleeting memory. just someone your friends brought up once in a while to watch the way your cheeks flared up in embarrassment. he was part of the past, an unfortunate moment during your freshman year in university. your friends didn't know about the guilt that ate away at you every time the boy's name crossed your mind.

the two of you had met in english, deskmates who bonded over the frustrations that came with your shitty professor and endless essays. complaining about class turned into hushed whispers while the professor wasn't looking, adding each other on socials and snapping silly pictures back and forth, walking back to the dorms together. because... why not? taesan was cute and you couldn't help but chase the feeling that came with every interaction you two shared.

you never thought it would turn into anything, until your friends pointed out the obvious: he liked you. taesan liked you. the way your hair flowed so prettily, the way you smiled at all of his stupid pictures and the way your eyebrows furrowed at the professors nasally voice.

the two of you had an undeniable connection, and it ended with the two of you sitting on his bed watching a movie together on his roommate, sungho's, tv.

flirty glances and brushing hands turned into his hands running up your arms, breath hot on your neck as you tangled your fingers in his dark hair. having him like this should've felt like heaven, but instead your chest tightened and your body tensed, to the point where taesan pulled away from you, looking into your eyes and softly asking if this was okay, if you were okay.

you should've told him the truth, you were just scared. you hadn't done this before, not with someone who you felt so deeply for. you just wanted to slow down a bit. but instead you faked a smile and just said that you remembered something your friend had asked you to do, ignoring the stab in your chest as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. you pulled away uncomfortably quick and left without another word. that was months ago.

the last you'd heard from him was hours after you left; he'd apologized profusely, saying he'd misread things and you tried and tried to reassure him that he did nothing wrong. you wished he could read your mind so you didn't have to face the fact that you were a coward and you'd hurt him in the process.

taesan thought that night would be the last time he'd see you. he could tell something was wrong, and he'd figured that you'd never want to see him again. but for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to blame you, hate you, nothing.

...

"seriously? you're not mad.... at all?" sungho sat up in his bed, staring at his roommate in disbelief. "dude, she literally led you on and ghosted you." jaehyun chimed in, shaking his head at the younger boy. taesan shrugged and went back to tuning his guitar, covering up the sounds of his friends' scoffs with the vibrations of the strings he plucked. they thought he was hopeless, and secretly, he agreed.

...

after months of radio silence, it was safe to say that taesan was not expecting his phone to ping with a message from you.

you tried to move on from things with the music major, joking away your pain with your friends and going on dates with other guys. it worked for a few months, but eventually thoughts of han taesan caught up to you. they plagued your mind for days on end.

late at night, lying in your bed and staring at the ceiling, you wondered how things could've been different if you'd just told taesan the truth. you thought it was easier to just run away and pretend nothing happened between the two of you, that you'd be at peace if you just went back to before you knew he liked you, before you knew you liked him too. in the end, it just left you feeling empty.

you hadn’t ever met anyone like him, something you hadn’t ever admitted out loud. you couldn't go back to the way things were before, he'd left an imprint on your mind like no one else.

the thoughts you tried to smother finally came up to surface on a breezy saturday night as you were celebrating your friend, yunjin's, 21st birthday party at her apartment. after more than a few shots and the truly you split with yeri, you felt like you were on another planet. you stumbled over to the living room, falling onto the couch and leaning your head back and closing your eyes.

after a few minutes of sitting with your intoxicated state, you lazily unlocked your phone, scrolling through your instagram timeline, attention focusing in and out. that was until you came across a certain set of pictures. you squinted, reading the caption.

tae23san take my tears @psungho @myungj4e

pictured was none other than taesan, sitting on top of a car with his head tilted back to look at the sky.

sitting up slightly, you carefully scrolled through the dump of photos taesan had posted: him posing in the booth of a recording studio, he, sungho, and jaehyun in a photobooth, a candid of him playing the guitar, a mirror selfie with sungho, and a solo shot of him.

the last picture almost took your breath away; he posed with a hand ruffling his own hair as he pouted his lips.

all at once, you felt every emotion you fought so hard to drown explode in your heart. you missed him. so much. your head spun with sadness, guilt, and longing. you wanted to- no, you needed to see him.

it wasn't long before the thoughts popped in your head.

why don't i just text him?

whats the worst that could happen?

it was bad idea, a terrible idea truly. but you couldn't help yourself, you opened your contacts and found your chat with him faster than you could blink. you fumbled with the screen, trying to type out a cohesive message to the boy you so desperately wanted to see.

[1:53 a.m.]

y/n: taesnjsnnnnn

y/n: i miss you

y/n: i'm soryry

y/n: can i swee yuo? please

...

taesan was hoping to have a peaceful smoke with his friends. he, sungho, and jaehyun had spent the day working on a project for their advanced music production class, and were now sitting on the couch passing a blunt around, some rnb songs floating softly through the air.

taesan breathed in slowly, sucking in the laced smoke and exhaling it softly, humming at the warm feeling in his limbs. he felt his phone buzz in his pocket, laughing at the feeling of the vibrations against his thigh.

"this is done for." jaehyun mumbled before flicking off the ash and placing the end on the side table. taesan watched him with hooded eyes as he stood up to stretch out his limbs, making sungho and taesan giggle.

"i'm going to my room." sungho stood as well, murmuring a similar quip before meandering over to his door. "don't forget to turn off the lights, san."

taesan groaned in acknowledgement, letting his head fall back onto the couch. not really wanting to sleep, he wondered if he should watch a movie or make some food.

the boy sighed in boredom, pulling his phone out of his pocket languidly and swiping through his notifications.

his already blown out pupils grew even bigger at the sight of your name in his notifications. he'd never gotten around to deleting your number -- he figured there was no point.

his eyes focused on the words next to your name. 4 unopened messages. he rubbed his eyes slowly.

was he really that high right now? or did you really message him. taesan's gaze jumped over to the timestamp.

10 minutes ago.

he hurriedly clicked the notification, tapping his thigh with his fingers as the screen expanded to display your texts. you were clearly a bit out of it, taesan smiled at your typos. his vision seemed to laser focus on the one text you didn't misspell.

i miss you.

taesan couldn't say he didn't feel the same way. despite sungho and jaehyun's relentless nags, he thought about you more often than he'd like to admit.

somehow, he knew something was up the fateful night the two of you had hung out. that wasn't you, he just knew it. or so he told himself. he didn't want to be mad at you, he didn't want to hate you. he had hoped for this day so many times. the day you'd tell him you didn't mean it.

taesan's fingers moved across the screen slowly.

[2:08 a.m.]

han taesan: hey

han taesan: where are you?

...

from the moment you hit send, you had suddenly been more alert, thoughts racing a million miles a minute.

what do i do if he responds? is he even awake? he just posted, he has to be. god, i hope this works.

you'd taken the leap, there wasn't any going back.

you begrudgingly lifted yourself from the couch you were sitting on, looking for your friends so you could take your mind off of the messages you'd just sent.

walking over to the fridge, you grabbed a water bottle to help you sober up a bit.

eunchae and chaewon did a great job at keeping you from checking your phone every thirty seconds. you laughed at their horrific job at playing pictionary against two guys yunjin knew, anton and sohee.

your two friends were losing bad, and you smiled watching anton and chaewon bicker, anton giggled at chaewon's reddened face. you hoped you'd remember to tease her about it later.

your phone buzzed twice in your pocket and you held your breath as you fished it out and tapped the screen. face to face with taesan's messages, nearly shrieking, you quickly typed a response.

you paused for a second, calculating your next move. you really wanted to see him, praying to god that he was free and willing.

[2:09 a.m.]

y/n: yunjins place. in source complex

taesan: oh

taesan: what room

y/n: 204

taesan: im 3 floors up

taesan: in 511

y/n: can i come up

taesan: yeah of course

while you were definitely a little more sober than 15 minutes ago, you still fought to not squeal into your hand. looking around, you searched for yunjin so you could bid her goodbye.

...

mellow music still floating in the air of the living room, taesan dropped his phone in his lap. he let out a shaky sigh.

whether it was the weed or the fact that he was about to see you after what felt like forever, taesan was suddenly very nervous, wiping his hands on his pants and slowly standing from the couch.

rubbing his arms, he looked around the apartment, unsure of what to do until you got there. he assumed you'd take a bit to leave your friends apartment and make your way up to his. taesan hoped you'd make it okay; he wanted to come get you but was honestly way too fucking high to leave his apartment.

"i guess i'll go brush my teeth or something." the boy mumbled to himself, walking over to the bathroom to fix his hair and make sure he smelled okay.

...

stepping into the elevator, you looked at your reflection as the doors closed, almost forgetting to hit the button for the fifth floor in the midst of smoothing your hair down and fixing your slightly smeared eyeliner with your thumb.

closing your eyes, you lightly rubbed your temples in a sore attempt to bring yourself back to reality, and to emotionally prepare yourself.

you were seeing taesan again, finally.

you hid your blush from literally no one and smiled slightly into your hand as the elevator doors opened.

...

standing in front of the boy's door, the weight of the situation at hand truly hit you.

what exactly did you want from this?

what did you want from him?

if you ended up hurting him again you wouldn't be able to forgive yourself. huffing slightly, you brought a hand up to your neck to fiddle with your necklace and think.

your dazed yet racing thoughts were interrupted by the opening of the front door to taesan's apartment, door swinging back to reveal none other than the music major himself.

"hi" you smiled and spoke quietly.

even though he knew you were coming, the boy somehow still couldn't believe the sight in front of him. it was really you.

you looked as breathtaking as ever in his eyes, your hair a bit shorter than the last time he saw you. taesan caught himself and chuckled slightly, moving out of the way to make room for you.

"come in."

you blushed as you stepped into the apartment awkwardly, not sure what to do with yourself. the alcohol was still making your head spin, eyes adjusting slowly to the sight of taesan's living space. you slipped your shoes off quietly and followed the boy as he walked into the kitchen.

"do you want some water? or snacks? we have chips and fruit, unless sungho ate them all. i think we have some juice too...." taesan's high had clearly not worn off in the slightest, and the boy winced after realizing he rambled on about the contents of his pantry for a full 30 seconds.

you couldn't have cared less, eyes focused on how pretty his hair looked brushed down in his face. making eye contact with him, you noticed the red tint to them, giggling quietly.

"we also have -- are you even listening?" taesan smiled at your starry eyes as you shook your head and laughed.

"god y/n- okay let's just go sit down." he watched you eagerly turn around and nearly skip towards his living room couch, settling right in the middle of the sofa.

the couch cushions were soft as they rubbed slightly against the exposed skin of your legs. shivering slightly, you wished you'd worn a bit more than just a crop top and denim shorts.

your gaze traced the lines of the wood on his coffee table, thoughts lost and scattered. you were just as blown away at the sight of him as he was of you. you recalled the sight of his larger hands shoved in the pockets of his zip up, wondering what it would feel like to have them wrapped around your own.

you wriggled your socked toes to a beat only you could hear, trying to take your mind off of the nervousness flowing through your veins.

"here." you looked up quickly to see taesan standing in front of you, about an arms length away. "i brought you some water."

taesan bit his lip to keep himself from smiling at the sight of you on the sofa. he looked around awkwardly for a second, not sure where to sit -- you were in the middle of the couch and choosing either side of the sofa would leave him sitting directly next to you.

"why are you still standing? come sit." you tilted your head at him and patted the spot to your right softly, smiling up at the nervous boy.

sighing out in relief, taesan plopped down next to you and settled into the corner of the sofa. you turned slightly so you could face him as he spoke, glass of water abandoned on the coffee table.

"do you wanna watch a movie?" he asked.

"is it okay to turn on the tv this late?" you shyly responded

taesan's ears turned slightly red in embarrassment. he 100% forgot about his two other roommates sleeping soundly in their own rooms.

while they probably wouldn't mind the noise, taesan didn't want to have to explain why you of all people were in their living room at this very moment.

"if you're okay with it, we can watch something in my room, i can play it on my laptop." taesan spoke.

your cheeks burned slightly at the idea of seeing the boy's room but you hummed in agreement, standing up quickly. the sudden movement caused you to stumble a bit. taesan stood up after you, wrapping a hand around your arm in an attempt to steady you.

"are you okay?" he turned you to face him fully, hands resting lightly on your shoulders as he looked at you worriedly.

your breath hitched at the mere inches of space between the two of you. taesan's gaze left you speechless, and your eyes searched his face before landing on his lips.

for every minute that had passed since you sent that first fateful text message, the anticipation had been eating you alive. deciding you couldn't take it anymore, you pulled yourself up by the collar of the boy's hoodie and pressed your lips against his.

his mouth was plush and unmoving against yours and you let yourself close your eyes and savor the feeling for a moment before lowering yourself back onto your heels.

opening your eyes, you mentally geared yourself for the awkward conversation you feared was about to ensue. taesan, on the other hand, barely gave you a moment to breathe, chasing your lips the second they detached from his. slipping a hand behind your neck, he tilted his face down and sealed his lips over yours once again.

taesan's mind raced as he bit your bottom lip, wondering what this was going to lead to and if he'd regret it. he decided he couldn't care less when he felt you tilt your head to the side and push your tongue in his mouth.

you craned your face upward and grabbed the sides of his sweatshirt tightly, like he might disappear if you let go of him. you needed more of him.

you broke your lips from his for a split second to ask where his room was. taesan mumbled something you couldn't hear before pulling you by your shoulders. the boy's mouth didn't leave yours for a second, only pulling away to push his door open.

you opened your eyes slowly, looking up to meet the taller boy's hooded gaze. you turned around and took in the sight in front of you. taesan's bed was in the corner of the room, posters hung above a small desk. you smiled at the tangles of wires on the floor, leading to a small speaker system and bass guitar.

"gonna go turn off the lights and check the door." taesan's voice rasped. you hummed in acknowledgement and stepped forward into the room slowly.

you walked over and climbed onto the boy's bed, bringing your legs up so you could hug your knees. staring at your socked feet, your mind was completely blank. when taesan came back you were absentmindedly fixing your hair and shirt, not even noticing the boy's return.

"are you okay?" taesan asked softly.

you looked up to see his eyes on you, smiling at the way hands were politely tucked behind his back. he was nervous, hoping he didn't overstep or make you uncomfortable. taesan didn't think he could handle watching you run out his door a second time.

"okay?" you tilted your head in confusion.

"with this... being here with me." your heart panged with sadness, feeling so guilty for how you made him feel before. you wanted to make it up to him.

"i am. i want this. i promise, taesan." you watched taesan slowly process your words though his wavering high, smile forming on his face. his hands came up to push your legs down, and you scooted towards him, giggling and wrapping your legs are his standing figure.

taesan had abandoned his hoodie in the living room, now in a loose t-shirt. your hands scrunched the fabric of the graphic tee as you pulled the boy towards you again. taesan complied without a word, bending down to meet your awaiting lips. you moved your lips against his languidly, savoring each swipe of his tongue against yours.

taesan pushed your body backwards so he could climb on the bed with you. you scooted back until you were pressed against the headboard, only staying there for a second before taesan pulled you onto his lap.

his lips went to your neck, pressing soft kisses and grazing his teeth against the sensitive skin. with each kiss, bite, and swipe of his tongue against you, taesan could feel you practically melting into his lap. eyes screwed shut, your head leaned back to further expose your neck and your fingers tugged at the boy's hair.

you slightly pulled taesan's face away from you, bringing your hands to gingerly cup his face. his eyes were slightly glossed over as you placed a wet kiss on his lips.

the last traces of your sobriety were thrown out the window, both of you drunk off each other. taesan thought you looked like an angel, bringing a hand up to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. your eyes formed crescents as you smiled at the boy, and he swore he almost stopped breathing.

your hand came up to rest over his that was still cupping your face, intertwining your fingers. bringing them closer to your face, you opened taesan's and placed a featherlight kiss in the center of his palm.

"what was that for?" taesan mumbled in between giggles as he watched you continue to play with his fingers.

"thank you." your voice wavered slightly, eyes looking up to meet his nervously. you laughed at the puzzled look on his face before continuing.

"for giving me a second chance and letting me come over." you sighed shakily under taesan's gaze. "i missed you, a lot."

"probably not as much as i missed you." taesan replied softly, squeezing your hands and tilting your chin up to meet your wide eyes.

the moment that passed between the two of you was long and drawn out, you savored the feeling of weight being lifted off your chest. trapped in his eyes and tucked in his arms, you couldn't fathom missing the chance to have han taesan like this.

as the thick silence dissolved and taesan's aching lips found yours again, the two of you knew staying away from each other was ill-fated from the start.

[bonus — 10:54 AM]

blinking the sleep from your eyes, you lazily searched taesan's fridge for a water bottle. as you shut the door, a loud crash abruptly pulled you out of your sleepy daze. coming face to face with myung jaehyun, you let out a yelp of surprise.

"no fucking way." he spoke. a bowl of dry cereal lay at his feet, contents now strewn across the kitchen tiles.

ears turning red, you realized how insane you must look: your hair was untied and messily brushed down and you were wearing nothing but an old tshirt and some boxers taesan had given you.

"what happe- oh god." taesan said from behind jaehyun, having rushed over to the kitchen to check on you. it was safe to say the last thing he expected was to see you and his roommate staring open mouthed at each other. flustered, taesan opened his mouth to explain, but jaehyun interrupted him with a loud sigh.

"fuck you tae, now i owe woonhak 20 bucks."

...

taglist: @iweirdthingsblog @yjwkisser @sulkygyu @enhyven

[kingtomura]

Arcade

Summary: There's nothing worse than getting ditched by your so-called friends on a Friday night. Well, maybe the asshole complaining about your skills at the arcade has that beat. Tomura Shigaraki knows how to make one hell of a first impression. word count: 8.5k Part three to Good Girl and Bloodline Content: Tomura Shigaraki x female reader, quirkless AU, fluff, angst, virginity loss, virginity kink, corruption kink, mutual masturbation, vaginal fingering, oral (f! receiving), praise, strict parents, toxic parents, smut with plot, protected sex, piv, overstim, tomura talks you through it, if you know what i mean, reader is kinda bad at games sry, mdni crossposted to ao3 | Part 4 is here!

You meet him on a Friday.

The mall is crowded and filled to the brim with groups of friends, chattering, laughing – wondering what to get into for the night. You’re just trying to find your group. They said that they would meet you here almost an hour ago, but no one has shown up. 

Bitterly you kick the small rock in front of you, officially accepting the fact that you had been ditched and decide it’s too early to go home. It’s a Friday night for pete’s sake. You walk aimlessly through the mall, only pausing when the noises of video game lasers and hyper dance music flood your ears. 

The arcade. Of course you could kill some time there, people go there alone all the time. No one would think you were out of place and effectively ditched. 

You make your choice, beelining for the upgraded rendition of Pac Man and slipping in a coin to start it. 

The excitement was short lived as you remembered that the game isn’t as easy as you remembered. Whatever, you take your leave and try for a game you hadn’t played before. Something simple with muted colors. It’s fun, but a little difficult. You find yourself getting lost in it, the sounds drowning out the bustling of the arcade.

You huff as you lose another round and reach down, ready to drop a coin and start up again when you hear an annoyed groan coming from behind.

“Can I help you?” You ask, giving the guy a once over. He wore all black with ashen hair and ruby red eyes that shone with annoyance.

“Yeah, you could find another game to suck at.” He scoffs, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

Irritating. 

You take the challenge. “Oh yeah? Well let's see you try it then, since it’s so easy.”

He shrugs, brushing by you and inserting his own coin into the machine, the beeps of the game starting up and filling tension between you. 

This guy… was good at the game — as much as you hated to admit it. He blew through the enemies with little to no trouble and easily passed your place in the game. Ending it all with one final blow to the boss and snagging the new high score right before your eyes. 

To say you were embarrassed was a little less than an understatement, but you wouldn’t let him know that. So, you double down, brows furrowed and standing proud. 

The mystery man turns back to you, carmine eyes gleaming in triumph over his easy win. “See? You suck.”

You bristle at his blunt insult and bite back. “Yeah, well I only tried this game today! You think you're so good, why don’t you try to beat me at a game I'm good at.”

He looks you over, eyes dragging from your head to the converse on your feet, before turning back around towards the game and dropping another coin into it. 

“No thanks.” 

This asshole… you don’t know why you're fighting this battle, you don't even know this man! But it would be a lie if you didn’t think it was entertaining —- in an annoying way, of course. 

But you take your loss and give up, moving on to the next game. It is something silly and bright, but also difficult. It's easy to get lost in and you find yourself aggressively tapping the buttons, inevitably losing the game and huffing off to find the next one. 

You choose a first person shooter this time. Originally a two player game, but you play on your own — taking down zombie after zombie as you try (and fail) to progress to the next stage. 

You groan as the game over screen mocks you for what feels like the thousandth time that night and fight to keep from banging your head against the screen in frustration. 

“You’re doing it wrong,” a low voice speaks from behind you and you can already feel your anger flaring. “It’s all in the aim.”

“Yeah, well, what do you know?” You ask bitterly, watching as the same asshole from before puts a coin in and starts the game up again. 

He makes it look so easy, getting headshot after headshot as he easily advances to the next rounds. There was a moment you swore he would lose as a mob of zombies crowded him, but he hit a flammable container in the background, causing an explosion and killing all of the zombies. 

The winning screen lit up his pale cheeks in a red hue, giving him a faux flush of color making the butterflies in your stomach go wild. 

You can’t bite back your sigh of defeat this time, the losing streak getting to you. “Did you come over here just to show off? I can do without that, thank you.”

He only shakes his head, putting in another coin and starting the game up again. You stare blankly as he hits the two player button and hands you a gun. 

“No, let me show you why you’re not winning.” It's spoken like you asked him for advice and you know damn well you didn’t, but you take the gun anyway because you had no reason not to.

Muttering a taut fine and gearing yourself up for more humiliation, you stand tall and hold the plastic gun up to the screen, ready to shoot incoming enemies.

You jolt when you feel the guy come up behind you, placing his hands over yours and moving them so that you have a better grip on the weapon. 

It was so quick and so natural your cheeks began heating for a reason completely different from your earlier embarrassment. 

He was so warm, his hands were warm and calloused and you could feel the heat of his body radiating onto your back as he invaded your personal space to show you how to hold the plastic gun. 

Your heart hammered against your chest but you forced yourself to keep your eyes forward and face neutral. 

It was much easier said than done, you realize as he leans in, his soft hair tickling your ear as he spoke, guiding you through the mini tutorial of how to shoot the zombies. 

Everything he said went in one ear and out the other as you could only focus on the low vibrato of his voice, explaining as his fingers ghosted over yours, casually helping you shoot. 

The smell of fresh linen and what you could assume was citrus shampoo flooding your nose, making you dizzy as you struggled to listen. You wanted nothing more than to lean back into this stranger, fully feel the warmth of his chest against your back and run your fingers through his soft locks. But you didn’t. 

You will yourself to focus on the sounds of the game and his technique, knowing that you will probably be playing the game soon and didn’t want to look silly if your skill remained the same.

Unfortunately, he pulled away sooner rather than later, taking all of his extra warmth and citrus scent with him. 

“Do you get it now?” He asks, rasp in his voice having genuine curiosity and you nod, ready to try your luck at the game now.

It seems like his tutoring wasn’t in vain and you both pull out a win, scoring high enough to place your names on the screen. 

You can’t hide your excitement from your first win of the night, turning to your new companion as he looked over the other high scores on the board.

“So, what’s your name?” You ask, riding the high of the win and letting the confidence of it guide you. “Because I don't think it would be DustKing like your high score says.”

He gives a small laugh, something tiny and barely there – a mere blow of air through his nose — and looks at you. Those carmine eyes send heat rushing to your cheeks again and spreading to the tips of your ears. 

“Tomura.” Is all he gives and you nod, giving him your name and turning back to the arcade game again. 

“Wanna give it another try?” You offer, and he gives you a small smile back, dropping a coin into the machine and starting up another round. 

“Sure.”

And suddenly, being ditched on a Friday night by your so-called friends isn’t so bad.

—---------------------

The next time you meet Tomura, it is on a saturday afternoon.

The arcade is already bustling with people and the noise almost makes you turn on your heels and walk away. But you don't, instead white hair and dark clothes catch your eye and your feet move before your mind can catch up with the actions. 

“Hey!” You greet, a little too chipper and a little too close. 

Tomura looks down at you, eyes dropping to your shirt and then back up again. You weren't sure if he had been checking you out or trying to size you up. It makes you falter a bit as he goes back to his game, effectively ignoring you.

The behavior is odd, but you try not to let it bother you. The last time you met the both of you played the silly zombie game until the arcade closed — there was no way he didn’t remember who you were.

You feel a little out of place and the tiniest bit hurt as you take a step back, ready to find any other distraction in the arcade to erase this from your brain. 

“Um, okay, bye then—” You start, but you’re cut off by Tomura’s groan. He lost the game and it's difficult to hold back the laughter.

“God, you’re such a distraction. You made me lose!” He barks, riling you up.

Your brows furrow in frustration, you’ve barely said two words to the guy. “How did I make you lose? I just got here!”

“Yeah, and you're being all distracting, with your little shirt and your jeans. What do you want?” 

What the hell was that supposed to mean? The statement is lost on you as your anger takes the forefront. “Don’t blame me because you’re off your game today.”

“I will blame you, because it’s your fault.”

“Whatever, Tomura. Since you’re done losing at this game, why don't you try one you;ll need real skill to play?” you challenge and hope he takes the bait, the irritated narrowing of his eyes shows that he will and you bury your giddiness inside.

“Fine, I'll try it.”

Tomura loses. Bad. And you can't stop the tears from crowding your eyes as you laugh at his misfortune. 

“No, why did you rush out so fast?” You hear Tomura’s low growl of annoyance and continue, “This is not that kind of game! Slow and steady wins the race, you know.” 

Wiping the tear from your eye, you try again, dropping a coin and gearing up for the next round while Tomura sits beside you, seething. The game starts up again and it's bright and inviting. You strategically tap at the buttons, ensuring that your duck character can make it across the street safely. 

It's only when you hear the splash of the fallen duck next to yours that you break out into laughter once more, accidently tapping the button and sending your duck into the open road, ending the game for you both. 

“This game is rigged!” Tomura protests, frustration palpable and scowl deep on his face. 

You only shrug, knowing it's not an easy game, “Well, I'm sure you’d say that about any game you aren't good at.” 

“That's a lie.” He states. Blunt and firm. This guy… He’s so rude, but so cute. You want to bite him.

“It's not,” You keep your voice light as you tease, not wanting to push him too far. “You don’t have patience so of course you would lose.” 

“I could beat you at other games.”

This piques your interest, brows flying up. “Oh, yeah? Like what?” 

He shrugs, irritation all but dissipated. “Mario Kart. 200cc. It takes patience and it’s not rigged.” 

You take the bait, fingers twitching in anticipation, “Sure, but look where we are. There is no Mario Kart here.” 

The look tomura gives you makes you wonder if you’d asked if the sky were blue. “I have Mario Kart at my house. Stop by and I'll kick your ass at it.”

You are stubborn, and decide fine. If he wants to be cocky, then you could bring him down a notch. “Alright, let's go and we'll see.” 

He nods and you both take off, leaving the noise and excitement of the arcade behind.

Tomura was not lying when he said Mario Kart required patience. 

You were currently in his room, on his bed as you try and fail to correct your character's position on the race track. You were stuck against a wall and slowly turning the opposite way, meanwhile, the other karts whip past your character — mocking while you firmly sat in dead last. 

The small laugh Tomura gives is enough to send you into a rage. Standing up, you grip the controller with force, twisting and turning with it as if it would give you more control over your character. It did not. 

“Oh, come on!” You shout.

“You have to use your brakes at this speed.” Tomura supplies, his character crossing the finish line and cheering at its win. 

Your frustration is blinding because once again, those large, warm hands were covering yours, Tomura’s low voice filled with amusement as he guided your character to the finish line. 

Embarrassment wasn’t enough for what you were feeling. Not only did you talk shit and lose, but you needed help from him again. 

He pulls away and you fleetingly think it’s too soon, watching as Tomura grabs his own controller and flips through the options. “We could try a slower cc. 200cc is brutal to newer players.”

“You knew that and you still let me play it?” He clearly set you up, you bitterly realize as you sit next to him on the bed, watching the screen.

“Yeah, for all I know you could have been a prodigy. You weren't though, so it’s nothing I have to worry about.” 

“Hey!” You scold, smacking his arm and grabbing the controller. “Fine. Let's do 50cc and see how good you are.”

Tomura shrugs, plucking the item from your hand and getting more comfortable. “Sure, but don’t think slower races will mean you’re better.” 

The next race goes about the same as the first one, but at least this time your character sticks to the road and you’ve even placed higher this time. Eighth place! Take that. 

“Impressive,” Tomura drags, voice stripped of malice and insults. It was a small feat, but still better than twelfth place. 

It's hard to keep your excitement down, a stark contrast to Tomura’s reserved demeanor. You’ve only met him recently but he's already perfected the way to get your feathers ruffled and rile you up. 

“Yeah, well I'm going to buy the game and practice on my own. Just wait, you’ll be in last place soon.” You had the gaming console, but never this game. It wouldn’t be too steep of an investment. 

Tomura hums, pondering a moment before responding, “You could always just come over and practice. No need to waste the money when I have it.”

His words make you pause, slowly realizing where you are and who you're with. Some guy you met at the arcade — in his home, in his room, playing video games. How did that happen so fast? Your parents would kill you.

“I guess.” You look around, suddenly wanting to find anything else to focus on that isn’t the man beside you. Now that you think about it, you’ve never really been alone with another guy before. Especially not in his room. Sure, you had all kinds of male friends, but never any this close. It made you… nervous. And warm. 

Very warm. Something that spread from the pits of your abdomen and crawled its way back up into your cheeks. 

You hoped Tomura wouldn't notice your blush and searched your brain for any way to get out of this situation. 

But then he was speaking again and god, was his voice always this low?

“Do you want to go another round?”

“Huh?” You stammer, looking over and it was a mistake because you were forced to notice how close you two were sitting, on his bed of all places. You shake the thoughts from your head, “y-yeah, we should play another round.”

You reach for the controller and Tomura stops you, grabbing your chin, forcing you to look him in the eyes. 

“Hey, what's your problem?” Blunt. Rude. Fucking cute. 

It's settled. You hate this man. 

His brows furrowed as he moved closer, examining your face as if he could peer into your mind with his eyes alone. It made you want to shrink away, but that would only make his observation worse.

“Are you... getting nervous?” Your eyes widen at the words and you pull away completely, shaking your head, 

“No! Of course not.” You cross your arms in a huff and absently wonder if you could take your leave now. 

“You are,” he decides, a slow grin creeping across his face, “Why?” 

You're sure the ground will open up and swallow you whole if you just wish hard enough for it. Maybe then Tomura would back up out of your personal space and shut up.

“I'm not nervous.” You bluff, praying he won’t see through you. 

“I know why.” 

You brace yourself for mortification. 

“It’s because you know you’re going to lose.” 

He has that smug smile on his face and it hits you. 

He has no idea. Tomura doesn’t get it — he thinks you’re upset about the game and not the fact that you can smell the citrus of his shampoo and see the flecks of black in his red eyes. 

God, maybe he’s an idiot. 

You want to kiss him. 

“Don’t be nervous,” he assures, giving you a little smile and grabbing the controller again, “I’ll walk you through it.”

There was something about Tomura’s choice of words that made you think maybe, just maybe, he had a little more of an idea about your mood than he let on. You press your thighs together, praying it was subtle, and mentally push away the arousal you began to feel at his low tone of voice. 

“Sure.”

The next round you both play goes the same as the others. Tomura winning and you barely breaking the top ten. Your frustration was becoming palpable as it no longer was fun to see your character cry at the end of the match. 

“We don't have to play anymore.” You look over at Tomura’s words and he’s stretching, eyes closing at the movement. You can't help but notice the sliver of his exposed abdomen as he reaches up. 

You get a glimpse of his lithe figure and feel your mind begin to wonder what the rest looks like, but cut your thoughts short as he adjusts and meets your eyes again.  

You should get out of here before you embarrass yourself.

“Where are you going?” Tomura questioned, the minute you stood to leave.

“Um, home? It’s getting late.”

“Not that late. C’mon, it’s a Saturday. You have somewhere to be or something?” He’s getting up and you can only assume it's to get another game. You are correct because he turns to show you the case and it’s of a white goose. “This game is more fun.”

You look at the time on your phone and shrug. He's right, it's not that late — there should be no harm in staying a little longer.

So you do.

And it’s worth it as you both watch two geese in the game with excellent teamwork terrorize a farmer.

“Okay, you distract him and I’ll take his hat.” You were on a mission and Tomura indulged you, making his goose honk while yours swooped in, effectively stealing the hat and allowing you both to progress to the next level.

“Hah! I knew that would work.” You feel elated as you watch the geese move on, waddling across the screen and into the next area, “And you’re not so bad yourself, for a goose.” 

Tomura huffs a laugh, shallow and light before turning to you, “I carried you that round, but okay.”

You haven't known each other long, but he already knows his way around getting you riled up. 

The comment makes you turn so that you are better positioned on his bed, one leg still hanging off the end of it while trying not to puff your cheeks. You would be fighting a losing battle if he saw how riled up you were.

“Hey, I’m the one who told you where the picnic blanket was!”

“Okay? And who brought everything to the blanket?” he leaned forward, invading your space and challenging.

You didn’t back down, both of you so close, almost nose to nose. “You. but only after I found everything.”

The distance between the two of you was slim, and the air was heated, his crimson eyes looked down at you with that smug smirk on his lips and you wanted to bite him.

Or kiss him.

Whichever came first. 

Tomura followed your line of sight and it only made his smug expression worse, if that were even possible — yet neither of you backed away. His lips parted like he was on the edge of saying something, but was cut off by the peppy chime of your phone’s ringtone. 

That seemed to dissipate some of the tension between you two as it caused you to back away and scramble to find your phone on his bed. 

Once you’ve gotten it and answered, there’s the familiar voice of your mother on the other end, worrying about where you are and questioning when you would be home, standard practice for her. After many reassuring yeses and “i’ll be there soon”’s you are finally free of the call, now knowing that you have to wrap this up and head out. 

“Who was that?” Tomura questioned and his voice seems loud in the quiet of the room. 

You turn back to him and his eyes are waiting, expecting. He’s not doing anything but looking at you and it still feels like he can see all of you, as if you’re naked and bare, exposed completely. 

“My mom.” You can’t help the small shrug of your shoulders, feeling a little embarrassed at how uncool it could look to have your parents keep tabs on you all the time.

“Aww,” Tomura coos, and it's said more like an afterthought, something to fill the air as he leaned forward — finally, finally closing the distance between you both and kissing your lips. 

It shocks you as you feel the soft cotton his duvet hit your back, Tomura’s lips still pressed to yours as he pushed you down. They were rough but so warm, just like the rest of him, and your hand seeks his hair, finally indulging in the urge you’ve had to touch it since you’ve met him. 

He groans when you give it a tug and you whimper when he bites your lip a little too hard. It drives you crazy and Tomura wastes no time in deepening the kiss, his tongue swiping over yours as his hands slide up your shirt. You let out a gasp  when he cups your breast, taking a sensitive nub between his forefinger and thumb. The feeling has you mewling into his mouth and arousal soaking your panties. 

It doesn’t take much to get you riled up, especially since the furthest you’ve ever gone with a guy is a kiss here and there. 

Tomura crowds your senses as he hovers over you, caging you below him as he sits between your spread legs. Your heart races as you keep your eyes squeezed shut, you don’t know how far you’re going to go, but you definitely did not think you would be losing your virginity today. 

He pulls away, lifting his shirt up and over his head, tossing it somewhere on the floor of the room. You waste no time taking in the new sight of his exposed chest, desperate to reach your hands out to touch. 

But Tomura was back down again before you had a chance to, his mouth making its way down your jaw and neck leaving kisses and licks in its wake. It’s sensitive, especially when Tomura sucks right on a particular spot on your neck, making you cry out. 

“D-don’t leave a mark.” You stutter, words nearly lost to the pleasure. 

“Why not?” The warmth of his tongue licking the area he’d just sucked on was making you shiver. 

Your hands were gripping his shoulder, desperate for any kind of grounding. “Because my parents. They would k-kill me.”

Tomura hums, seeming to take your concern into consideration before pulling away. You’re worried you’ve blown it and ruined the mood, but he just tugs at your shirt. 

“Get this off.” 

You can feel the heat on your face, from the kissing, but now you feel it burn more as you gaze at the man above you. The words make you stall, process what's going on — what you should do. 

No one’s seen you without a shirt, especially not in this situation, but honestly? Who cares. You’re an adult, you can and will make your own choices. 

There’s no one else in this room but you and Tomura, so when you sit up to remove your shirt and bra, catching Tomura’s eyes scan your newly exposed body, you can’t help but smile at the chill of excitement that dances down your spine. 

It makes your heart flutter so you pull him back into a kiss and back down onto the bed, fisting your hands in his ashen locks again and savoring the groans he made. 

Tomura makes his way down again, taking your right breast into his mouth and tweaking the nipple of your other with his free hand. The sensations are overwhelming and you moan, arching your back and trying with all you had to pull Tomura closer. 

He obliged by lowering his hips and grinding down against you, the press of his erection against your clothed cunt drives you wild. Tomura comes back up, claiming your mouth again and he is demanding as he deepens the kiss, giving you everything you wanted and more. 

You wanted to take it further, needed to take it further, but you weren’t sure how to progress from making out. Telling Tomura you were a virgin would probably make things awkward and you were going to lose it if everything ended here.

Tomura pulls away to look at you, flushed and red while you ponder what to do with your hand placement. You decide to wrap them around Tomura’s neck, pulling him close enough that he rests his forehead on yours. 

Your breaths intertwine as you both stare at each other in a daze. 

“What?” He asks first, breathless and curious. 

You cut your eyes to the side, hoping your scoff came off as unconcerned instead of wildly nervous, “Nothing! Nothing..”

Your tone is not lost on Tomura as he narrows his eyes, gears turning in his head and piercing gaze seemingly looking through you and into your deepest thoughts. “Why are you being shy like a virgin?”

The way you purse your lips gives you away and you do everything to avoid his gaze, which is hard when you’re both so close to each other. 

“Oh my god, you are.” There’s a whimsy excitement in his voice and suddenly, embarrassment is creeping its way back into your mind, “why didn’t you say so?” 

You look up as Tomura pulls back, his smile open wide on his face, ill hidden elation buzzing in his words. 

There’s your innate need to defend yourself and your honor rising up again and you can’t stop yourself. So what if you’re a blushing virgin. “Yeah, so? Aren’t you?” 

His shoulders give a small shrug, “Maybe.” 

Then he’s down again, lips next to your ear as his hands trailed down your waist, leaning goosebumps in their wake. 

“Have you ever made yourself cum before?” He asks and you can feel his smile against your ear.

Embarrassment has officially taken the forefront of your mind as you weakly shake your head no, “I’ve tried, but when I get close the feeling goes away.” Might as well be honest since it can’t get more vulnerable than this.

Tomura hums, one hand reaching to take your hand in his, “I could show you how, if you want.”

You feel his hand drag yours lower, down your body and to the hem of your pants and stop, waiting for a response. It feels like your nerves are in overdrive and you writhe below him in anticipation, nodding your head, “P-please.”

Tomura pulls away, taking his warmth with him as he reaches down to unbutton your pants, removing them and leaving your panties. 

“You’re soaked.” He muses, causing you to whine in anticipation. “Show me how you do it.”

And you do, slipping your hand under your panties and biting back a moan as your middle finger rubbed circles on your clit. You were dripping wet so your fingers glide easily and the feeling makes your eyes close. 

It's a song and dance you are familiar with in the heated nights of your bedroom. Trying and failing to make yourself cum because you’ve read about it, it’s supposed to feel good, but you just can't get there. 

Tomura watches on, absently palming his erection and watching you touch yourself. As much as he wanted to reach down and help you out, there was something about seeing you whine and writhe in his bed that made his brain wild. 

You were getting close and you knew because there was that familiar sensation of heat pooling in your lower belly, it was a pressure that got more and more intense as you chased after it, but every time, your hands would get tired and you would lose it. And with the momentum gone, you lose the orgasm. 

Your furrowed brows went from aroused to frustrated within the span of a second as, once again you’ve unintentionally denied yourself release. 

“Fuck,” Tomura breaths, hand now fully in his sweat pants as his breathing picks up, “you were close.”

“I know!” You whine, unsure what to do now, but Tomura has a few things in mind. He pulls his hand from his pants, not wanting to ruin his own orgasm and hooks his fingers on both sides of your panties, pulling them down and tossing them to the side. 

You were fully exposed and the only thing keeping you from pressing your thighs together and holding your dignity close was Tomura between them. 

You wish he wouldn’t look so much, but he does, drinking up the sight of your exposed cunt and licking his lips. You’re about to call him out of it before he dips back down, capturing your lips in his and it distracts you. 

It distracts you so well that the press of his thumb over your slick nub makes you cry out, the pleasure sudden and better than you imagined. Tomura devours your moans, rubbing slow circles onto your clit and easily picking up where you left off. Your hands find purchase on his back and your toes curl at the sensation. 

He had just started, but it was just right and you couldn’t stop yourself from arching your back, desperate for more and overwhelmed by the stimulation. 

“T-tomu..” You moan as you feel the horizon of warmth again and bury your face into his neck.

“Yeah,” his lips are by your ear again and you close your eyes, fully focusing on the feeling of his thumb working your clit and his low voice in your ear, “Just let go for me.”

And it all hits you, pussy pulsing in pleasure as you come undone, your cries muffled by your face in his shoulder. It feels like the end of a long marathon as the bliss spreads through your body like a warm blanket. 

You could only lie there as Tomura pulled away, kissing your sternum and all the way down until he was at eye level with your cunt. The action confuses you because he had just made you cum so why was he..? 

“What are you doing?” You ask, confusion muting the buzz in your head. 

His eyes meet yours, mischievous glint in them sending the butterflies in your stomach wild. “We’re not done yet.” 

And before you could question the man further he dips down, warm and wet tongue meeting your slit and diving into your slick entrance. The action makes you jolt, keening at the sensation and thighs reflexively closing against Tomura’s head. This action only spurred him on further as he lapped and dipped his deceptively long tongue in and out of your wet entrance, sticky slick walls clamping down on him as he sloppily ate you out. 

He was relentless as he drove your pleasure up the wall — blowing your previous orgasm out of the water with this new sensation. 

“Fuck, tomu — fuck its..!” You can’t form a coherent sentence because the pleasure was only building and building, giving your brain no time to catch up with your words. Your hands immediately found purchase in his hair, the soft ashen locks grounding you as he continued his actions, unbothered by your tight grip. 

Tomura decided to move up, licking his way from your hole to your clit, the overstimulated bud was next on tomura’s list as he lapped and kissed your bundle of nerves. 

The actions make you cry out, mind muddled as your body tries to figure out if you want to be closer or further away from the sensations. You don't have much time to reach a conclusion either as Tomura sucks your clit and your second orgasm of the night quickly builds up and spills over, making your back arch from the bed and your legs shake in pleasure. 

It feels like your mind is completely blank as tomura gives your cunt a final lap and your clit one last kiss before returning to meet your eyes again. 

You were face to face now and watching him grin down at you, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that you had made a deal with the devil himself as your mind swam in the pleasure radiating throughout your body. It all felt surreal, and your eyes naturally closed, enjoying the feeling of your second climax. 

“Aw, don’t tap out on me now, I haven’t even given you the final boss yet,” you hear Tomura coo, finally moving to remove his sweatpants and boxers and oh— 

You watch his cock bob between his legs and panic internally as you wonder how the hell that would fit inside of you. 

It’s like Tomura could read your mind, because his laugh brings you back to the present, “don't worry about it, promise it’ll fit.” 

You don't know if you should trust him on that, but you do — mentally preparing yourself as Tomura leans over you and into the drawer of his bedside nightstand. He pulls out a square foiled packet and it’s in that moment you realize – no, he was not a virgin and only humoring you. 

You don't have much time to dwell on it though because in no time he has the condom on and is lining himself up with your entrance. 

The nerves are making themselves known as the reality of your situation starts to set in. The thoughts don’t flood your mind for long because Tomura takes your chin in his hand, demanding your undivided attention as he slowly pressed into your cunt. 

The pressure of the stretch makes you whimper and your eyes reflexively close, but he was only getting started. It was the somewhat soothing feeling of Tomura’s thumb stroking your cheek that kept you grounded and able to withstand more of the stretch. 

Little by little, Tomura pushed on, guiding you with his words and reassuring you that it wouldn’t hurt for long. He was right up against your ear, the familiar smell of his shampoo bringing you comfort as your bodies intertwined. 

“That it,” he guided, voice low and hips still as he bottomed out. You felt so full. It was a sensation you’ve never imagined and could only whine as tomura started to pull back. “I’m gonna move now.” 

Even though the pain was there in the initial thrusts, there was also the feeling of dull pleasure, slowly growing and growing until the previous pain had all but gone away and now you were floating in ecstasy as Tomura’s thrusts began to speed up.

You gripped at his forearms as he gained momentum, hips rocking into yours and making you moan.

“You like that?” he husked, lips brushing your throat as his hips snapped forward and hit a particularly sensitive spot inside. 

“F-fuck, again, do that again,” you cry and Tomura focuses his attention right where you want him to. The feeling is euphoric as you feel a different kind of coil tightening in your lower abdomen. A feeling that makes your toes curl and your thighs tense and it's hit again and again. 

Tomura lets out a low groan, his own pace becoming unsteady as time went on. “You’re so tight..” he murmured, reveling in the feeling of your slick walls clamping down on him, “‘s like you’re sucking me in.” 

You’re nearing the end again, you can feel it, but you don't want to be. This all felt so good. “Tomu, I-I’m—”

Tomura cuts you off, pulling away to look you in the eyes, his ruby red gaze was hypnotizing. “Just let go, I’ve got you.” 

And you do, that’s all it takes for you to tip over — mind rushing in bliss as your heart fluttered at his words. 

You felt this orgasm deep in your bones, the overwhelming feeling of clarity and contentment settling within you as you were now along for the ride, enjoying Tomura’s increasing erratic pace while he chased his own orgasm. 

“Oh, fuck—” he pants, following behind you with his own climax. His eyes were squeezed shut as he rode it out, slowing to a stop and dropping his head onto your shoulder. 

The heavy breaths between you were the only sounds in the room as you stare at his ceiling — noticing the faded out green stars above. So faint you were sure they had been placed there years and years ago. It brings a warmth to your chest, something new among your many new feelings you’ve felt today. 

“Next weekend,” Tomura starts, still sounding a bit winded as he pulls out — and you wince at the soreness, the pain not really something you were prepared for — and lays next to you, “Next weekend we’ll rematch in Mario kart. I’ll help you get better.”

You smile, the buzzing excitement making you flush, “Okay, let’s do it.”

The next morning is one that leaves you with a forming pit in your belly. It is a Sunday morning, and Sundays are the day’s your family loves to enjoy a homemade breakfast and sit together at the table like a loving family. 

And they were loving! Loving and observant.

You felt as if your parents knew. Like they knew where you had been yesterday — somehow seeing through your foolproof lie of hanging out with an old school friend, but things were quiet. 

Everything on this Sunday morning had been proceeding as normal. Your parents were sitting across from you, none the wiser and laughing about a show they watched last night while you were out. 

It did not feel real. It felt like there was something you were missing, as if they were omnipotent and knew your every move. Knew that you were no longer their shining star child, that you had been up to things that were everything but innocent. 

You feel the same, physically. Maybe a little sore from how rough Tomura had gotten, but other than that, normal.

“Sweetheart,” your father’s voice calls you, cutting through your paranoia, “could you pass me the syrup, please.”

And you do, maybe with too much haste, but he does not comment on it. Instead he just pours the sugary liquid onto his pancakes and continues. “So your mother and I were thinking,”

Oh, god. They knew.

“We know you’re taking a semester off, but if you aren't happy with that college, we could look into other’s for you.”

Your shoulders relax. It’s just college talk, again. That was talk you could handle. 

“Um, yeah. That’s okay with me. I could always use more options.”

Your father smiles, “That’s our girl. Always so flexible with her options. We know it takes a lot of strength to take a break, but you did. We’re so proud of you.” 

The smile that graces your face is pitiful and filled with guilt that you prayed was not obvious. They really saw the best in you, no matter how suffocating they were. so it’s only right you follow the path that they lay out for you. 

“Our girl could never do any wrong,” your mother chimes in, chipper and full of admiration, “you’re just so smart.”

You only nod, now trying to tune them out as they go back and forth, discussing possible college they believed would be best for you. 

It really makes you wonder just how far that love and pride stretched when their angel of a daughter strays against what they expect of you.

—-------------------------

And not even six months later that same love and adoration is tested, put on the line and shown bare as your enraged parents look down at you. 

The same parents who doted on you about how much you made them smile. You who had made them so proud and apparently brought them so much joy. 

It’s suffocating as you sit right back on the very same couch where it all started, listening to a lecture from your mother about the woes and pains of having such a disobedient unruly child. 

Even though you’re an adult. 

Even though you can make your own decisions about your life. 

It’s maddening having to listen to your once so meek and complacent mother go on and on about how she would have never snuck around with some boy she’s only known for a few months. How she would never lie to her parents about her whereabouts and how it’s just unheard of that you would turn your location off. 

You shake your head, they wouldn’t understand. Your father wouldn’t even look at you. “Mom, please..” you start, wanting to offer anything to break up the nonstop lecture. 

“I just don’t understand!” Her voice is so high it’s nearly a yell, and your mother makes it a point to never yell. “He’s just a man! Why would you put yourself and your future at risk for some guy?”

“He’s not just some guy.” You mumble and curse yourself for trying, they would never see it your way. 

There is a buzz from the phone in your pocket and you habitually grab for it, pulling it from its place and you are not given a chance to check the notification before your mother snatches the device from your hand. 

“And no phone! This damn phone is the root of all your problems in the first place.”

Disbelief mars your features as the constant drilling catches up with you. “You can’t do that!”

She only folds her arms across her chest, head tilted in challenge, “I can’t? Watch me. You’re lucky we haven’t put you on the street yet with how irresponsible you’ve been.” 

It’s hard to understand what’s so irresponsible about taking birth control and practicing being safe. But you knew it was deeper than that. It was deeper than the boy and it was more than sex. 

They hated the lack of control they had over you and how it waned with every passing day.

“So, what, was this guy supposed to be the love of your life? Someone you would just run away with and expect to support you?”

Your mother’s voice grates on your ears and you just wish for this conversation to be over, you want this entire thing to be over and done with. “I don’t know. Maybe.” The defeat is evident in your voice and you shrug. “Can I go now?” 

They are beating a dead horse at this point and you’re over it. 

To your surprise, no one stops you as you rise, allowing you to take your leave before the tears clouding your vision could fall. 

The defeat you feel is deep and you can’t even muster the energy to slam your door shut, opting for a quieter close. The fragile click of your door was so soft and it felt as if you were made of glass. To slam the door would only make you shatter into a million pieces onto your bedroom floor. 

How foolish of you to think there could ever be a world where you had autonomy in a house filled with hawks. 

Your bed greets you with its cozy warmth and you allow yourself to fall apart there, letting out all of your despair and frustration into your pillow and leaving the pieces of your soul to be picked up in the morning. 

It’s been a week. 

A long, boring, drawn-out week. 

You are without your phone, without wifi and without your parents car — so you couldn’t go anywhere if you tried. 

It’s been a long week of nothing, not even from Tomura. You assume he can put two and two together and figure out something has gone wrong. The thought brings you a little peace, but not for long. 

You barely leave your room and barely say two words to your parents. The isolation is… lonely. 

Even if you went out to the living room to watch television, you run the risk of running into one of your parents — and you can really do without another lecture. The only thing on your mind this past week has been Tomura. What was he doing? Did he pick up on your silence? Last time he showed up at your house, but that’s not happening this time around. 

You sit up from your bed, realizing that sitting around rotting away would drive you mad, and look to your window. The sun was setting and dusting the rest of the world in pretty orange and pink hues. It would be nightfall soon, and you don't think you could spend another night in this room, alone. 

So, against all better judgment, you open your window, look back to listen for any suspicious footsteps — the lack thereof giving you the greenlight — and climb out of your window, stumbling on to the ground as you try to regain your footing from the drop.

You weren't sure where your feet were taking you, but you didn't care, the feeling of fresh air against your cheeks was all you really needed for a clear head.

Your feet lead you to the mall, the start of all your problems and the beginning of your independence. 

It felt strange, seeing all kinds of happy faces throughout the mall. Blissfully unaware of their freedoms and enjoying their night. The jarring feeling pushes your feet to the familiar route, flashing colors and blaring music of the arcade greeting you. 

It’s comforting, in a way. But you didn’t bring any money. You didn't bring anything but what you were wearing so you could only look around, watching friends and couples alike laugh together. 

There's an area near the back of the arcade with tall barstools and empty tables. You decide to take a seat there and sulk on your own. At least you were no longer trapped in your room, forced to watch your four walls while the days passed you by.

You were in a daze, tracing the brown lines on the wooden table with your eyes, until someone interrupted you by sitting right next to you. You turn to face the culprit, less than friendly words on your tongue and ready to let whoever have a piece of your mind. 

But you stop in your tracks as ruby red eyes look down at you. 

Tomura. 

He was here, next to you and your heart fluttered at the realization. 

“What’s your problem?” He joked, rasp in his voice comforting to your ears. 

You don’t stop yourself from pulling him into a hug, his black hoodie soft and familiar. “How did you know I was here?” You mumble into the fabric and miraculously Tomura understands you.

“I didn’t.” The admission causes you to pull back, looking up at him through your long lashes. “None of my calls or texts went through, and I tried to stop by but your dad was suspiciously outside.” He brings a hand to your head, brushing your hair back and giving you a small smile. “I still like coming here, so I did. Something to pass the time. Ironically, I saw you walk by. 

You hum, fighting the pout that wanted to make its way onto your face. “They took my phone. They took everything, even the birth control pills. I can’t keep living like this, Tomura.”

“I know.” He responds, soothing your nerves even with his presence. “I can get you another phone.”

The suggestion only makes you shake your head, it doesn’t tackle the real underlying issue. 

“It doesn’t matter. It’s only a matter of time before they find that too. We’ve seen that they aren’t above going through my things. It’s hell. I can’t do it anymore.”

This seems to make Tomura ponder, taking your words in and running them through his mind for a solution. His expression is fixed when he looks back at you. 

“Then don’t.”

“What?” 

“Don’t go back home.” He elaborates, “Come stay with me. My place is big enough, it shouldn’t matter.”

You are shaking your head before you realize, pulling away from him with a stern look. “No, no I can't do that. I can’t impose on you like that.”

Tomura gives you a halfhearted glare. “It’s not imposing if I'm offering. They’re assholes, and I'm usually home alone anyway. Well, besides Kurogiri.” He leans in, pressing his forehead to yours, “C’mon, just go home tonight, pack a bag and then meet me here tomorrow. Can you do that?” 

There was no other option you would want more so you nod, giving a short okay as Tomura presses his lips to yours. 

It's set — by this time tomorrow you will be free.

[chlorinecake]

𓂃 watercolor eyes | park wonbin oneshot

⚡︎ pairing: Stoner!Wonbin x Female!Reader | ⚡︎ word count: 7.8k | ⚡︎ genre: mutual pining, college au, smut (⚠︎) | ⚡︎ contains: awkward relationships, an original character + sungchan and shotaro, swearing, drug use/distribution, angst (?), mild dacryphilia, sexual tension mixed with fluff, kissing, unprotected sex while buzzed, heavy petting, oral (m. r)

ON TOP OF countless other obligations in your life, upcoming exams were kicking your anxiety's ass with the biggest fucking boots imaginable.

All you wanted was to take the edge off, and at this point, you didn’t care what it’d take to do that.

Introducing Exhibit A: Your closest friend and roommate, Roxanne, who so conveniently happened to be a junkie.

You brought up your need for a “quick fix” (so to speak) while studying in your dorm together one afternoon. Though, she offered to get you some help from another friend of hers who you’d never met before.

“Wait, you want me to go with you?” You asked in confusion, already prepared to reject Roxanne’s proposal at the idea of personally consulting her drug dealer.

“Yes, you're coming with me… What do you think this is, Kiki’s Delivery Service?”

“No, but… I-"

“Don’t tell me you’re chickening out, ____,” she chuckled, turning the steering wheel as she trailed down a shadowy lane.

“No, I… I want this… I need this even, it’s just that…I don’t really know what to expect…”

“Then don’t expect anything,” she answered, giving you an encouraging smile that came off as more condescending, “Expectations are for pussies anyways.”

“Roxanne, I’ve never even met this guy before,” you pressed, hoping that she’d maybe let you sit outside in the car instead of actually speaking with him.

“Look, I’m close with my dealer, and as I always say, a friend of mine is a friend of yours.”

Cue your internal sigh of submission.

“Okay,” you said, straightening your posture in your seat with a feigned confidence.

“Uhhhh, are you sure with that ‘okay,’ or is it more like an ‘okay, I have more questions’ type of ‘okay’?”

“No,” you clarified, “it means what I said… I’m okay.”

“Okay,” she nodded, before giving you a brief synopsis about this friend of hers: STEM major, weed connoisseur, and art-hoe with a shy guy undercut.

Doesn’t sound anywhere near as daunting as the drug dealers on TV shows appear to be, right?

She pulled up to one of the apartment complexes a few miles from your university. It was one of the lower quality establishments, with the only oddity being how nice the vehicles parked outside the apartment divisions were, a sleek black motorcycle belonging to none other than the mysterious drug smuggler named Wonbin Park.

“Hey, take off your hood, silly, it’s rude,” Roxanne nudged, locking her car from the keys in her pocket more times than necessary.

“But… what if someone sees us?,” you whispered, walking closely beside her.

“Then I’m glad their eyes are working? Hell, I don’t fucking know what they’d want me to tell ‘em,” she shrugged, walking up to the front door.

“So are you acting like a nonchalant loser on purpose, or is this just your way of trying to calm me down?”

Roxanne laughed hysterically at your words, showcasing the sparkly pink gem decorating her upper canine teeth as she patted you on the back.

“We’re just here for weed, babe. That will help calm you down before I can.”

You had almost missed the part where she knocked as you got lost in your head, the front door suddenly opening and basking you both with a sudden warmth, contrasting with the cold evening weather.

“Roxie?,” asked the male from the doorstep that you fought with every bone in your body to avoid making eye contact with.

“Wonie?” Your friend mocked goofily, walking up to hug the boy briefly before grabbing your hand and pulling you inside, “I hope you don’t mind that I brought a friend.”

“Not at all, my place is always open to you and your girlfriends,” he chirped with forced yet gentle enthusiasm.

“Uhhhh, she’s just a friend, considering how we’ve only slept together while clothed before… but thanks anyway!”

“Any time,” he replied confidently, walking up to the sink that was conveniently in his living room before re-lighting the dead bud of the joint he held gracefully between his plump lips, ashes falling from the tip before he inhaled a thick huff.

Some of the ash fell on his lower abdomen, and you were just now realizing that he didn’t have a shirt on.

Good thing you were used to the smell of pot by now, thanks to Roxanne’s inevitable habit of greening out every Friday night.

“So, what brings you ladies in today? I’d hate to break it to you, but I used my last condom just a few hours ago.”

“Yeah, we’re actually here for a different kind of pipe this time,” Roxanne answered, blinking as if trying to communicate with him to ditch the wild language.

“Oh,” he said, doe eyes widening as his mouth hung a little, his bunny teeth shining right back at you.

Stop staring at his mouth.

Stop staring at his mouth-

“I uh… I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything,” he smiled softly, and of course you noticed because that’s where your eyes were glued the entire time, so distracted that it startled you when he reached to shake your hand.

“I’m Wonbin, but… you can call me anything you like, really.”

“It’s alright,” you returned, finally coming back to the present, “I’m ____.”

His initially confident demeanor stemmed from his assumption that you were more flamboyant like Roxanne, but he made note to be less vulgar until he could tell you warmed up to him.

Until he properly warmed up to you.

“So uh, yeah, do you want the usual, or were you thinking to try something new?” Wonbin asked casually as he leaned on the back of the sofa.

“Hmm,” Roxie hummed in thought, “yeah, my usual’s good. Just lay off the stronger stuff in the mix, though. It’s her first time.”

Something about what she said made Wonbin smile, wide and excited, peeking at you through his shaggy bangs with zero intent of hiding it.

Was he… flirting with you?

“Well, it’s my pleasure to be your first then,” he winked, getting up from the couch and heading to another room on his flat.

“You two kittens just wait here and I’ll be back with your stuff in a minute,” he claimed, which actually ended up being around an 8 minute wait while you and Roxanne went on and on about something you can’t even remember now.

The smile evaporated from Roxanne’s face as Wonbin returned to the living room while reciting the order. “You’ve got two ounces of-”

“I know the recipe, moron. You might scare my friend away if you say it out loud…,” she joked, feigning a pout as she hugged your shoulder, “so how much do you want for it, candy man?”

“It’s on the house this time,” Wonbin said, “so long as you bring me dinner tonight.”

“Fucking fat ass,” she spat, “what’re you craving?”

“Something warm,” he replied almost immediately, “with seasoned meat and a sauce… Maybe some rice, too.”

“Gotcha,” Roxie chirped as she pushed off of her knees to stand up.

Wonbin walked up to hand her the goody bag with such politeness, almost in the way that a child would give something to his big sister.

“Cool. I like eating around 7 o’clock, so you know when and where to find me.”

“Yes, through your stomach and all the way up to your greedy little heart.”

“Mhm,” he said with a satisfied hum, taking Roxanne’s spot on the couch as she walked towards the door. You and Wonbin were now sitting next to each other, his arms spread out on the back of the couch in a relaxed manner.

“Uhm, ____?”

“Oh, right! Sorry… I didn’t know we were finished,” you stammered, getting up from the couch to meet Roxanne at the door.

“Yeah, took him long enough,” she rolled her eyes, “I was starting to think he wanted us to spend the night…”

“Alright, get out of my apartment already,” he said playfully, waving a hand as if shooing you two, “and make sure to secure the bottom lock for me, I don’t feel like getting back up yet.”

“Whatever.”

Slam.

The door was closed, 50% locked, and you two were heading back down the staircase, cold air greeting you once again before you both got back in the car, driving back to your dorm room to drop off the drugs first, and then to the grocery store…

… to buy a bag of rice and a fresh pack of chicken.

“WHAT’S THAT NOISE?,” Roxanne asked with animatedly furrowed eyebrows, holding the grocery bag you two had packed Wonbin’s “dinner” in.

You ended up making a chicken roast with carrots, potatoes, gravy, and steamed rice like he asked.

“Here, hold this,” Roxanne mumbled, barely loud enough for you to hear before she dropped the bag, your reflects luckily kicking in fast enough for you to catch it before the glass container could hit the concrete stair well.

“It’s as cold as a snowman’s grave out here, Wonie, open up!,” She yelled while banging on the front door, the little dream catcher that hung on the inner side jingling with her forceful hits, “Hellooooo?”

“You’re like Doordash but with the temper of FedEx,” you heard a deep voice say from behind the walls.

“But I only charge herbal fees for my services,” she added while crossing her arms.

Creek.

The door slung open, Wonbin’s muscular arms framing the entrance with a fed up look plastered on his face.

There were two people sitting behind him on the couch playing video games. A violent game, you’d assume, given the sporadic and sharp flashes of light that filled the room.

“Is there some kind of a secret password now or something?,” Roxanne asked impatiently, not as entertained my the view of Wonbin’s still shirtless body like you were.

“Oh, right… come on in ladies,” he said with a feigned smile, extending a hand to welcome you two back in, “hope you brought enough food, because I have guests.”

You followed Roxanne and Wonbin to the kitchen, where you placed the steaming bag of food on the counter before taking out the containers. That’s when Roxanne started grabbing dishes from the cabinet.

The glass plates clinked behind you as you went to search for a serving spoon in the drawer. “Hey… where are the spoons and forks?,” you asked while still looking through one of his kitchen drawers before Wonbin suddenly tapped you on the shoulder.

“I uhm… I keep the utensils in here,” he smiled shyly, just as he reached for the overhead counter to grab the silverware he kept in a box. Your breath got caught in your chest as you felt his hips nearly fuse with yours in the moment. Luckily, he couldn’t see how flustered you appeared underneath his shadow.

“Gimme that,” Roxanne giggled, snatching the box from him and taking out two large ladles, one for the rice and another for the roast.

“Gosh, that smells amazing! Can you put cheese on mine, pretty please?,” you heard one of the boys ask from the couch, peeking over his shoulder with soft eyes.

“Yes, Taro, I can put some cheese on it for you… even though I think it’s weird,” Roxanne smiled.

“Ahh, thanks man. Oh- and who’s the new girl?” He went on, placing the controller down as he was no longer interested in playing.

“Just a friend in need of a good time—” Wonbin answered, which shocked you to say the least, “—so be nice, Sungchan.”

“Of course! Why wouldn’t I be?,” The taller boy pitched in, “but does she even talk?”

The room went quiet for a moment, the only sound being Sungchan’s clicks from the remote controller before he got gunned down by a random player.

“Dammit, Shotaro! Why’d you stop playing? Now we’re tied with the other team!!”

“Too bad, so sad, bro. I’m hungry,” he chirped, getting up from the couch to help you bring the plates to everyone.

“Woah, who’s the big plate for?” Shotaro asked with widened eyes.

“Me and Sungchan,” Roxanne said with a satisfied smile, “we’re sharing.”

“Oh… you didn’t tell me you and Sungchan were on good terms now,” you said, breaking your awkward streak of silence, just now recognizing the taller boys face from Roxanne’s phone.

She always talked about Sungchan and his “big stupid dick,” as she liked calling it.

The pair stopped being cool with each other for reasons you don’t really remember anymore, but you’d take her sudden affection towards him over the violence you witnessed during one of her texting fits the other night.

“Shhh,” she giggled, meeting Sungchan on the couch before sitting on his lap, “I hope you don’t mind me feeding you in front of your little friends… unless that makes you shy,” she pouted.

All he did was open his mouth in response, savoring the taste of the first spoon she fed him.

It was a sickeningly cute sight to be honest.

“Sick and twisted,” Shotaro said as if reading your mind.

“Cry about it,” Sungchan joked between a mouth full of saucy rice, heart swelling from the way Roxanne cooed at him.

You and Wonbin were just now making it to the living room after getting some napkins for everyone. There was room left for the two of you on the couch thanks to Roxie sitting on Sungchan’s lap, but that meant you and Wonbin would be sandwiched together in the middle.

Great.

“Come on guys, take a seat,” Roxie said before taking a bite of the food, her teeth grazing the metal fork with a loud scrap.

“God, I hate when you do that,” Sungchan sighed, tickling her sides as she laughed uncontrollably.

“Stop that, asshole, before I drop this food everywhere!”

“That’d be a shame, this chicken is so good,” Wonbin hummed with a nod, stuffing his cheeks with more of the gravy.

“____ made it,” Roxie pitched, giving you a look.

Despite how hard you tried to fight it, you were started to feel pretty awkward.

You knew it had a lot to do with Wonbin, thanks to his cripplingly annoying quirk to not put a damn shirt on.

You did eventually warm up to everyone, even pitching in on some of Sungchan’s dad jokes.

Though, the stack of empty dishes in the center of the living room table seemed more alive than your spirits right now.

The inevitable tiredness that came with staying up late without a phone in your hand started to kick in.

“Hey, I’m gonna go wash up these dishes real quick,” Wonbin said, glancing your way for reasons you almost couldn’t process between the loud laughter of Shotaro and Roxie over whatever dirty joke Sungchan told about SpongeBob and Patrick.

Did he want you to come with him? Alone?

Yes.

By now, Wonbin was no longer in the living room, having walked to the kitchen sink where he proceeded to run soapy dish water.

The scent of lemon wafted through the dimly lit space as you stepped beside him to get the dish towel.

“Sorry,” you said nervously, noticing the way he jumped as your hand grazed his arm slightly.

“It’s alright, you just surprised me,” Wonbin smiled, drying his hands before walking over to the other side of the counter, opening a plastic bag filled with what appeared to be blunt wraps and another bag filled with fluffy green.

“You just leave that stuff out on your counter?,” You asked, voice kind of quiet over the running water.

“Mhm…,” he started, “it’s not like the cops are just gonna raid my house randomly… unless… you were to say something,” he winked, putting a filler along the inside of the wrap before sprinkling in some herb, then tucking it tightly.

“Your secrets safe with me,” you said, the faucet squeaking as you turned the water off.

“____.”

“Yes?” You asked in confusion almost… he was already starting to use your name so normally.

“Pass me that lighter from over there,” he pointed before sticking his tongue out, licking the inner side on the blunt wrap to seal it.

His pretty tongue glistened underneath the kitchen lights, captivating you once again.

Fuck, stop staring, you internally swore at yourself.

He put the blunt between his lips, waiting for you to light the tip. “Stop moving, silly,” you giggled, holding his face in place with your other hand to keep him still as he playfully moved his head around to give you a hard time.

A tiny giggle erupted from his throat, too, making your smile linger for a little longer before he bid his thanks, inhaling a huff of the smoke and exhaling it through his nose.

“Hmmm,” he hummed as he cleared his throat. By now you were leaning against the sink with no intention of washing the dishes any time soon. No intention of leaving the kitchen, either.

“C’mere,” he offered, reaching for your chin in the same way you did to him earlier before inching closer to your face.

“Wonbin-”

“Just part your lips for me, okay?” He asked in a light voice, “I want you to try it with me.”

You nodded at his words, hesitantly parting your lips as he slowly set the blunt between the opening you allowed for him.

“Okay now seal your lips,” he said, licking his own, “and inhale… slowly.”

You obeyed his words, taking a steady breath in as the warm and cloudy smoke filled your mouth… then your stomach… then your senses.

“Oh, shit,” you cursed, coughing at the way the smoke hit the back of your throat, to which Wonbin only laughed at your reaction.

“Good job, newbie,” he teased, running you a glass of water before passing it to you, your teary eyes staring back at him in a mix of embarrassment, regret, and intrigue.

“How was hitting it,” he asked, pearly eyes staring back at you.

“Just as bad as I thought,” you admitted.

“Yeah… they effects will start kicking in pretty fast, too,” he chuckled, proceeding to take a huff from the same blunt. “But,” he started, voice falling to an alto, “you know that wasn’t free, right?”

“Excuse me?” You asked, watching as he lazily cradled the joint in his two fingers.

“I only do favors for Roxie because we’re chill like that…,” he paused, biting his lip derisively as he tilted his head, “I hardly know you, though.”

You didn’t even bother checking your pockets because you knew you came empty handed.

“Aww, what is it, baby?,” he cooed, turning your chin to face him again as he took another huff from the joint.

“I didn’t bring any cash with me, unfortunately,” you replied with a halfhearted expression, already feeling yourself get dizzy.

He noticed the way you began to tear up even more from the smoke he was now gently blowing in your face.

“You’re eyes look pretty right now,” he smiled, staring way harder than he should’ve, “how do you feel?”

All of a sudden your core starting to heat up, making your legs feel as though you were merely hovering over the floor. You didn’t feel grounded anymore because you were overcome with a feeling of light.

“A little warm,” you started dryly, “but like… numb and euphoric at the same time.”

“In here?” He asked, placing a hand on your upper stomach, resting dangerously close to your tits.

“No…. It’s uh… a bit lower,” you said, reaching for his wrist before pulling his hand away from you.

That’s when you caught a glimpse of a colorful splash decorating his wrist. “That’s pretty,” you smiled, adoring the tattoo from afar.

“You think so?” He asked sarcastically before whispering in your ear, “too bad compliments won’t pay my bills.”

You sighed at his words, watching as he braced his body weight on the counter before your right hand found a mind of it’s own, reaching out to trace a line up his defined abdomen.

“Then allow me to repay you in another way,” you offered, poking his flesh with your nail a bit, “you like my cooking, don’t you?”

“Very much so, yes. But you could try pleasing me somewhere else… ‘A bit lower,’ like you said,” he whispered seductively, eyes in a daze as he guided your hand by your delicate wrist to the center of his belt buckle, a line of hair leading to the bulge buried behind his baggy jeans.

A thick vein trailed from his thumb to his forearm before his grip left your wrist.

“Wanna take a closer look?” He offered, drawing your attention back to the colorful spot on his skin even though your first mind thought he was talking about something naughtier.

“Sure,” you answered quietly, taking his hand again to examine the design, “a butterfly?”

“A moth, actually… it’s a little more masculine if you ask me,” he added, the shadow of a proud smile ghosting over his lips.

“But it has watercolored eyes,” you pointed out.

“True… So it’s like.. more ambiguous I guess?”

“Maybe… or it could just be a beautiful man,” you voiced, stroking over his skin with the pad of your thumb.

You liked this.

The look of his skin, but more so the way it felt.

The way touching him made you feel.

“Uhmmmm, guys?,” Shotaro cried out from the living room, the energy in his voice breaking the stillness of the moment, “I’m pretty sure Sungchan and Roxie are about to start fucking each other in a few seconds, and I could use a little help in here!”

You and Wonbin made eye contact at Shotaro’s words, the same thought filling both your heads:

“What?”

“Just get in here, quickly! They’re taking each others clothes off!!!”

“FUCK, MY STOMACH still hurts like a bitch from laughing so hard yesterday night,” Roxie sighed, cheeks a flushed hue either from the three shots of brandy she just guzzled or the three comforters she was wrapped in on her side of your shared room.

“Yeah… I had a great time hanging out with everyone,” you said, only half-present as other thoughts floated around in your mind.

Thoughts about when you would get to see Wonbin again?

What you two would even do?

How Roxanne would react if she knew Wonbin had been stuck in your mind like gum on a-

“What the hell are you thinking about?”

Oh shit.

“Uhm… Nothing, why?”

“It’s gotta be something,” Roxie pressed, staring at you from across the room through her false eyelashes, “you were moaning in your sleep last night with that same look on your face.”

Wow. She was quite a fast talker for someone so tipsy.

“I was?”

“Mhm,” she smirked cheekily, trailing a finger along the knitted seam of her bed sheet.

“Tell me who you were thinking about… I’ll know if you’re lying, too,” she pressed.

“I was just… gosh, why is that making me so flustered,” you sighed, hiding your face in your pillows.

“C’mon, spit it out, ____!”

“I was thinking about Wonie, okay?,” you finally admitted, hoping it would make her shut up.

“Hmm…,” she started with a satisfied smirk, “you’ve already starting calling him by a nickname, I see… what’s up with that?”

“Nothing at all,” you smiled aggressively, watching as she spread herself out on the mattress like a star fish, “would you like me to call Sungchan over to keep you company while I’m out?”

“He’s already on his way over, silly,” she smiled, flexing her fingers around nothing, “wait, where are you going, anyway?”

“Nowhere special… probably just gonna talk a walk around campus. But don’t worry, I’ll wait for your boyfriend to get here before I leave.”

She pouted at your words, lower lip poking out like a baby, “Aww… stupid… big dick Sungie’s my boyfriend… ehehe…”

SUNGCHAN SHOWED UP shortly after you managed to get Roxanne back to bed. Praying that they wouldn’t end up fucking in your bedroom while you were gone, you put on a jacket with hopes of taking that walk to clear your head, even though now you simply hit a joint to calm your nerves.

That’s when you heard a pair of footsteps approaching from outside your door, just as you were about to zip up your winter boots.

Knock, knock, knock.

A a warm feeling erupted in your stomach, making your fingers freeze at your ankles.

Standing up to peek through the door-hole, you saw Wonbin’s plump lips first, before his bright brown eyes stared back at you.

Shit, why was he here?

“Hey, I can hear you breathing from behind the door… well, whoever you are,” he giggled, which made you giggle a bit too.

There’s no way you were gonna get out of this now, but you still counted down from ten before opening the door.

“Hi,” you smiled, letting him in, “don’t know how you got on campus, let alone to my dorm room, but okay.”

“I’m friends with Roxie, remember?”

“Yes, but I don’t remember you visiting here before… like, ever.”

Even if he had, it’s not like you’d be able to forget a face or presence like his.

“Nice shirt, by the way,” you teased, poking him in the stomach to which he smiled.

That terribly cute smile of his.

“Yeah I uh… wear them sometimes,” he replied, adjusting the beanie he wore before speaking again, “Where is she, anyway?”

“Pretending to be asleep so I can cuddle with her while she sucks on me… well… not there but… nevermind,” Sungchan interupted, walking from the room with now disheveled hair.

“Hell, I left for like three seconds, what happened,” you asked, observing the fresh purple bruise on Sungchan’s neck.

“Roxie gets unbelievably horny whenever she’s drunk for some reason, and I refuse to do anything with her when half of her mind is on fucking mars,” he sighed, going to the fridge and pulling out a can of soda.

“She’s lucky I let her do this much… Wait- I thought you said you weren’t coming?” Sungchan said to Wonbin with a suspicious look.

So Wonbin was invited to your place. How fun.

“Ahh, I changed my mind out of boredom...”

“Right,” Sungchan nodded while walking to the front door, “I’ve gotta go get a lighter from my truck, but I’ll be back if Roxie asks for me.”

“Hey uh, me and ____ can go get it for you if you want,” Wonbin offered, flashing you a look.

“Really, I mean I parked pretty far away, but-”

“It’s fine, really, I saw where your truck on my way here.“

“____?” Sungchan said your name as if searching for your approval, to which you nodded which a humble, “Yeah, I don’t mind.”

“Alright then, go ahead. But take your time though so you don’t slip and break your asses…”

WONBIN LOOKED IN the roof compartment of Sungchan’s truck, just as the lighter fell down, slipping between the small crack in the seat.

“Shit,” he cursed upon trying to reach for it, “my hands too big to get it.”

“Hey, I can try getting it for you,” you offered, watching as he made room for you to take his place in the vehicle.

The drawstring of your underwear clinging to your hips as your shirt fell down your waist with gravity.

“Are you wearing a thong?” Wonbin asked, cold index finger hooking with the thin strap of your panties before pulling back and releasing it with a snap.

“Ahh, what the hell, Won!,” You yelped, retreating from the seat to swat his hands from you, “you’re supposed to be helping me!”

“No, we’re supposed to be helping Sungchan. Now get back to work,” he order you playfully, pointing back down to where the lighter fell.

You shook your head, bending back over in an attempt to retrieve the lighter once again.

He was only teasing you because he wanted to see more of your personality.

He couldn’t say that things were moving fast between you thanks to the inevitably awkward grounds your first impression of each other was cultivated upon, but he still wanted to get past the shy stage.

Skip all of the a baby steps and just start running with you.

Weakened grunts fell from your lips as you desperately fished for the lighter, your hips looking a mere second from bursting through your tight jeans given the position you were in.

“Shit,” Wonbin cursed under his breath, feeling a sense of warmth grow on his cheeks as he darted his eyes away from you.

“Oh,” you said with a muffled sounding voice.

“Um, y-yeah? What’s up?” He stuttered, still looking off into the distance.

“I’ve got the lighter… And some spare change,” you chirped, clasping the findings in your hand before reaching a foot down cautiously.

“Isn’t that stealing?” Wonbin teased, finally looking back to only see your foot slipping on the wet condensation from the truck’s running board.

“____, watch your step!” He called out with a slightly raised voice, his hands finding your waist to protect your fall, which only led to you both tumbling down together.

A strained groan erupted from Wonbin’s throat as his back hit the cold hard ground first, your body weight falling onto his center as your hands hit the gravel, slightly scuffing your skin.

You hadn’t even realized that your eyes were closed the entire time until you finally opened them, the coins you held being scattered about as Wonbin’s wide bunny eyes scanned you with shock.

His arms framed his head, nose a little red from the weather and a sprinkle of snowflakes dusting his black beanie.

“Are you…are you okay?,” he started, voice trailing off as it finally clicked in his mind that you were straddling him on the ground, essentially in public.

He couldn’t pin a finger on what it was about you that made him feel all shy like this, especially whenever he wasn’t buzzed.

“I-I’m… uh… I’m fine,” you stuttered, freeing him of your body weight and extending a hand to help him up.

“Thank you,” he huffed, a puff of cold air escaping his mouth before circling around your warm bodies, “I told you to watch your step….”

“Hey, it’s not my fault that those stupid coins distracted me,” you shivered, just now feeling the effects of the weather as goosebumps sprouted on your skin, “At least I got the lighter, though!”

Wonbin chuckled, both at your enthusiastic words and the uncanniness of this moment, taking off his beanie and adjusting it over your head before closing the door to Sungchan’s truck, pulling you close to him by the shoulder.

“Alright… let’s get back inside before we both freeze to death.”

AFTER GOING BACK inside, Sungchan had somehow managed to get Roxie out of bed, the four of you sitting on the couch while watching a random movie till midnight.

It all brought you a strange sense of déjà vu. You and Wonbin sitting awkwardly together while Roxie and her Sungchan sat like Siamese twins. The only thing missing, aside from some good home cooked food, was Shotaro’s infectious smile and a recreational drug in your system.

A soul booster.

You had gotten lost in your thoughts again, not even realizing when Roxie kissed Sungchan goodnight before he headed home.

Nor when Wonbin pretended to be sleep so no one would wake him as you slept peacefully on his shoulder.

Nor how he left your side once Roxie went to her room to sleep, reaching for the dust-ridden acoustic guitar hiding in a corner of your loft after a long forgotten ex-roommate left it behind as a “farewell” gift.

Nor the warm and woody melody he started to play from the other end of the couch, the gentle hums from his throat luring your busy mind from its slumber.

Your eyes opened with lazy blinks, vision slowly keening in on the lit joint that hung from his mouth, the sound of his fingers sliding against the fretboard and strings sending shivers down your spine.

Or maybe that had more to do with the winter air thrumming through your dorm room's cheap windows.

From the look outside, you’d guess it was sometime around 1am.

The stars were sparkling in the sky and the world beneath almost dead quiet.

“Oh- sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” Wonbin said in a half-whisper, noticing the way you were glancing at him before taking the blunt from his mouth.

“Oh, no… it’s okay, I was just… I didn’t mind…” your words trailed off to a mumble as you sat up a little straighter on the couch, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, “What song was that? It sounded really pretty from what I heard.”

“Yesterday… by the Beatles,” he smiled, getting up to set the guitar back in its original place of abandonment, “it would’ve sounded even better though if I had a pick with me.”

He took another huff from the blunt, exhaling through his nose in a familiar manner as he offered it to you, “Want some?”

“Sure,” you shrugged, taking the blunt from his hand before inhaling the herb yourself, though, it was slightly different from the one you had in Wonbin’s kitchen the other night.

“It’s some of Sungchan’s pot,” he said in a husk voice as if reading your mind, “Don’t go too crazy though, ‘cause his shit’s pretty strong.”

He peeked at you through his wavy bangs, waiting for a cough from you that never came.

“Are you buzzed yet?” You asked after taking another huff or two yourself, playing with the smoke in your mouth before blowing it out slowly.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “don’t know how I managed to play a full song, but... yeah... I'm trashed.”

“It must be a talent, I guess,” you hummed at his words, just now noticing the lit candles sitting at random areas in the kitchen and living room.

Good thing, because it helped to drown out the scent of marijuana.

“What else are you good at doing while high?”

His tongue clicked at the roof of his mouth as a subtle yet unmistakable smirk creeped on his face, perfectly matching the rosy hue that began to stain his cheeks.

“You thought of something dirty, didn’t you?”

“Maybe…” he chuckled, widening the distance between his legs a bit as he sat.

Was he… teasing you?

Your eyes fell down to the blunt he placed on the ashtray beside the table, it’s lit bud ceasing with a quiet hiss.

“I’m guessing that wasn’t free either, huh?” You joked, shaking your head at yesterday's memory.

“Nope,” he smiled, “but… you still haven’t returned the favor from your first hit, so I won’t be too mean for now.”

Of course he’d bring that up again.

Right here, right now as you sat mere inches in distance from each other, both buzzed out of your minds.

“And if you were to be mean,” you started hesitantly, biting your lower lip before continuing, “what would that look like?”

He thought on your words carefully before answering, “Well, I doubt it’ll ever come to that anyway, so don't worry about it.”

“Oh, and is it the weed making you confident all of a sudden?”

“No, just the simple fact that you’ll pretty much do anything I tell you to.”

You scoffed, “That’s crazy talk.”

“Is it?“ he pressed, inching closer to you. "Kiss me,” he said, lips just a gentle wind's push from touching yours.

You didn’t budge, but your heart beat escalated all the same.

“Cute,” he smirked, his large hand finding the length of your neck, gliding up to your jawline as his thumb toyed with your lower lip. “I can see it all over your face that you want me, ____.”

“Then why are you asking for it?,” you teased.

“Because I wanted to hear you say it first… even though I already knew you’d let me do this,” he whispered, closing the space between you with a kiss, his warm mouth engulfing yours as the scent of his woody cologne filled your senses.

His other hand found your lower back, pulling you impossibly close to him as the sound of both your hearts beating and his needy grunts consumed you.

Much like the watercolor moth on his wrist, Wonbin’s gentle and vibrant masculinity couldn’t get any more precious in this moment.

This is exactly what he was looking forward to, whether he decided to guise it under the façade of a favor or be completely straight up with you, he finally got you right where you wanted.

Your fingers tangled in his hair as you tugged a bit, desperate to hear more of his pretty sounds before the shadow of a smile wavered over Wonbin’s face at your actions, up until he felt your knee bump his hard-on through his pants, causing him to hiss.

“You’re being rough with me,” he said in between kissing your mouth, his hot and thick tongue darting past your lips as the kiss become messier.

Louder.

“And?” You asked, pulling away from his lips before leaving a trail of wetness down his neck, paying extra attention to a spot that made him twitch in his seat.

“And it’s so fucking hot,” he almost moaned when your teeth grazed his skin, his back meeting the couch arm as you subconsciously grinded your hips against his pants, straddling him.

“Is this how you wanted me earlier,” you said, stopping your movements, “when we were outside in the cold?”

By now his shirt was off and your fingers unbuckling his belt with gentle clinking sounds from the metal.

“No,” he said in an impossibly deep voice, looking dead at you as he spoke, “My first mind wanted to fuck you silly in the backseat… but I couldn’t to that to you.”

You giggled at his choice of words given how high you were, shimmying his pants down a bit further before halting at the waistband of his boxers, palming him gently through the fabric.

“Why not?” You asked in a soft voice, contrasting with the fierce grip you had on his clothed shaft.

“Because... even though you’re being an impossible tease right now, I felt like you deserved better than to be fucked in your best friends boyfriend's truck,” he said with a shaky voice, gripping at the couch to contain himself.

You appreciated his consideration in your heart, but didn’t wanna say anything out loud, especially not while your hands were on him like this.

And thank God for these thick curtains, otherwise the whole world would’ve seen how red his throbbing tip looked after finally being freed from the restrictions of his boxers.

You started at the base of his length before gliding upwards, spitting on the head that was already leaking a bit of his early release.

You started to pump him slowly, pearly white precum standing out as it mixed with your clear spit like watercolor.

“Use your mouth for me,” he almost begged, eyes falling victim to a blurry haze as his knuckles turned white with his grip on the cushions.

You teased him a bit by letting your warm breath ghost over his tip, eliciting a groan from him as his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat.

The desperation inside of him only grew from here as your warm and wet lips finally wrapped around him.

You hollowed your cheeks a bit, hands resting at either side of his hips as you began using your tongue to help you take him inch by inch.

“Mmm, feels so fucking good, baby,” he said with a strained voice, his hands finding your head before his thumbs grazed your lips, one of them prying to squeeze itself into your mouth with his already thick cock.

The sight alone was enough to make him buss, so he threw his head back, biting his lip harshly to contain his sounds.

You hummed against his dick, almost feeling it in your chest once his hands pushed your head down further.

He just couldn’t deal with your teasing anymore, wanting to feel you more than he could begin to explain.

He bucked his hips upwards, rutting into your mouth like a bunny in heat. “Aww, fuck,” he cursed, watching the way your eyes glazed with tears.

He always managed to see you crying one way or another, and he loved it every single time.

Your fingernails dug into his sides as the sound of your gagging became hard to miss. He released your head with a sigh, panting as both of your faces burned with heat.

He didn’t expect you to start pumping him again though as soon as your mouth left his cock, but you knew he’d end up missing your warmth in seconds anyways.

“I wasn’t trying to be mean when I did that, by the way,” he sighed, biting his lip as you looked back at him with moist eyelashes, “I just couldn’t hold bac- nghhh~.”

A broken moan escaped his mouth once your hands found his balls, gently cradling them in your hands while alternating with pressures, your other hand still stroking him.

“I’m doing quite the favor for you, Wonbin,” you said with a rasp voice, your throat a bit sore from his actions on top of the smoke you huffed earlier, but he figured it made you sound hotter anyway. “Are you sure I’m not overdoing it?”

“Mmm… no, p-please don’t stop, baby,” he whimpered shamelessly, screwing his eyebrows tightly.

You felt yourself clench around nothing at the nickname, and judging from the way his face changed, you’d bet he noticed.

By now, he could hardly keep still, the muscles in his stomach flexing just as you felt his balls tighten, just as he was finished, chest heaving with need as you rode out his high.

That's when you started to take off your jeans, tossing them in the corner somewhere as he practically drooled at the sight of you in just a baggy top and panties, a dark spot forming at the center of your core where your arousal started to leak through.

“____,” he paused you, bringing you into his lap, your warm core sitting right atop his aching hardness, “you don’t have to go this far if you don’t want to.”

“Well maybe this isn’t just about me owing you anymore,” you whispered, kissing him on the corner of his mouth, “what if I want this?”

His cock stimulated you through your panties as he thought on your words, subconsciously rocking your hips back and forth.

“Then I’ll let you have your way with me…” he said with a rasp whisper, kissing up your neck as one of his hands massaged your tits, his other hand sneaking past your underwear to find your soaking wet clit, rubbing it slowly but with such a pressure that your fingers clung to his broad shoulders.

“I want you to make me feel like I’m falling apart,” he groaned against your skin, spreading your slick all over your aching pussy lips, “I want you to ruin me.”

You didn't waste any time with aligning him at your entrance, sliding down with ease most of the way given how wet you were.

He groaned as your tight walls fully consumed him.

“Fuck~,” you whined, feeling euphorically full as he started thrusting into you, hands gripping at your back as he became overstimulated inside you.

The drugs must've made you feel extra sensitive, especially with the way his tip fucked against your g-spot. You looked into his teary eyes, stoking his face as you helped to bounce with his movements, lewd sounds bouncing off of the walls.

“You’re being so fucking good for me, baby, just like that," he moaned as you clenched around him, too high to give a damn about filling you up raw with thick spurts of his cum.

“Wonie,” you whimpered, feeling as his hands roamed all over your climaxing body.

You felt every part of him in every part of you, and to say the least, it was worth all the awkward moments it took to get here.

THE NEXT MORNING, you woke up with your head resting on Wonbin’s chest, his messy hair spread about his head as you felt his breath faintly on your head. You probably looked like two babies with the way you were cuddling each other under the blanket.

It was a sickeningly cute sight, one might say.

“Sick and twisted,” you heard Shotaro say in the back of your mind, just as Wonbin groaned beneath you with a cat-like yawn.

“I still feel high,” was the first thing he said, making you giggle a little more than necessary before looking him in the face, the effects of your night together ever-present on his face.

“I feel…good,” you smiled.

“Good?”

“Yeah,” you hummed back, peeling yourself from his body as you blinked the tiredness from your eyes.

“You can keep a secret, right?” He asked hesitantly, voice barely audible given how quietly he spoke.

“With my whole life,” you answered, now making eye contact with him which was surprisingly way easier to do than a day ago.

He found your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, “We should do each other favors more often… but… maybe not call it that.”

Was he initiating a sexual relationship with you?

Maybe something more?

“Well…” you started curiously, “what would you wanna call it instead, then?”

A grin peeped on his face that quickly softened when he licked his lips, giving your hand a squeeze once again before parting his lips to speak. “Maybe-”

“Fuck,” Roxanne sighed with annoyance, “you horny ducks didn’t blow my candles out last night… now the wax is no good,” she sulked.

“Oh, s-sorry about that, Roxie, we were smoking and it helped the smell,” Wonbin answered first.

“… wait, did you just call us horny ducks?” You asked with a mix of confusion, offense, and realization.

She heard you two.

Hell, of course she did.

“What? You think I didn’t hear Wonbin and his vocal ass practically singing as you did… whatever you did to him…?,” She rambled on, washing her hands in the sink before pulling some from produce from the fridge.

“Oh my God,” Wonbin cringed at himself, covering his face with his hands, though his ears were clearly burning red now.

“The blanket… you brought it in here, didn’t you,” you asked her, just now noticing that it was one she kept at the end of her bed.

“Yep! You’re welcome, freaks,” she chirped through a mouthful of raw celery, drawing your attention to the knife and cutting board she handled, “I’m gonna need your help soon though, ____. We're cooking for a mini get-together later with Taro and Sungchan.”

You hummed at her words, folding up the blanket while thankful that despite how high you two were last night, you managed to put your clothes back on before the sun came up.

“You guys should get cleaned up first, too, by the way,” she said, side-eyeing you as she diced a few green onions. “And preferably not at the same time, please... I’ve heard enough moans for the rest of this week, thanks to you two.”

⚡︎ a/n: I just wanna say thank you to everyone who read this goofy lil piece I wrote !! It's been a while since I wrote something that wasn't requesting, and I had so much fun getting back in my creative mode again !! Hopefully you guys enjoyed it as much as I did huhu !!

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[jungkookstatts]

As Thunder Rolls

[Summary]: You know Taehyung is the one. You knew it since the first day you saw him, when thunder rolled through the sky. But your lives don't collide. They might be too different to choose both.

[Theme]: Rich Reader, Law Student Reader, Construction Worker TH, Poor TH, Rich Girl Poor Boy AU

[Rating]: 18+ for sexual themes, sexual content, unprotected sex, kissing, making out, marking, angst, familial separation, topics of class, and triggering opinions of some characters

[Word Count]: 8,296

[A/N]: First TH fic!! I hope it is enjoyable~ This might be my last fic for a little bit. Going to be focusing on school and working really hard until the summertime :)

People say that when you fall in love, your life develops new meaning. They say that your life changes as you fall, and you watch it spiral out of your control over a silly feeling you can’t help.

You can say that the people, whoever they may be, are correct. Love happened to you quite unexpectedly, and completely out of the box you put your goals for the future inside.

Taehyung happened during the city's worst monsoon season in over 50 years. His rain-stained jeans and dirty white construction t-shirt clung to his skin, showing you all of his tanned glory as the rain fell angrily. You stood on the top step of your sister’s corporate building, looking down at him three steps below you.

“You got a spare umbrella, by chance?” he asked you. Caramel-colored, wet hair covered his forehead. But you could still see the discomfort in his eyes due to the harsh rain.

Looking at your own umbrella in your grip, you shook your head, telling him that this was your only one.

“You know a place around here where I can find one?” he asked.

“I’m not familiar with the area,” you explained.

“Me neither,” he smiled as he looked down at his red Converse.

There was an uncomfortable feeling in your chest. You felt bad for the guy, clearly well-underprepared for the season. Your designer coat and accessories terribly clashed with his, an obvious difference in class confronted you in the face. There was a feeling of fear, you remember. Back then, you used to be one of those people who thought terribly of people like him. Thinking that he’d ask for your Burberry umbrella and never return it. You thought maybe he’d pull you aside and forcibly rob you of your money just because his shirt had a few stains and the brand name of the city’s lower-end construction company was written on the fabric. You associated him with the worst of the worst, just because of his class. Or rather, assumed class.

But those eyes captured your soul. They were warm, and his smile sent medicine to your heart, healing all those presumed thoughts and replacing them with the benefit of the doubt.

“I think there is a 7/11 around the block,” you recalled from your memory.

Thunder rolled through the city skies, and you clutched your umbrella harder. You never liked thunderstorms. There was a sense of urgency to get home to avoid any more of this growing storm, and fast. But this guy — you wanted to continue talking to him.

He raised an eyebrow at you, looking to his left.

You raised your chest, nervously pointing in the opposite direction.

“Down there,” you corrected him.

“Ah,” he smiled. It was faint, but you noticed his upper lip formed the shape of a heart before another roll of thunder drummed through the sky. You winced, and his smile faded.

“I’ll let you be on your way, then,” he said. “Thank you.”

You nodded, and he suddenly turned his back, walking down the sidewalk in the direction of the vague 7/11 down the street. He hiked the back collar of his t-shirt over his head, creating a small hat to shield his eyes from the unwanted shower. You watched the exposed skin on the small of his back as raindrops trickled into the hem of his jeans.

Suddenly, your heart skipped in your chest, and you did something your carefully formed character would never allow.

“W-Wait,” you stumbled. The click of your heeled boots rang in your ears as you walked down the small set of stairs and onto the sidewalk.

The man turned around, his posture straightening at the sight of you.

Quickly, you went to him, covering his head with your umbrella.

“I-I’ll come with you,” you offered.

His close proximity flooded all of your senses. Your fingers visibly began to shake, and you had to remind yourself to breathe when you saw how tremendous the height difference was between the two of you.

“Thank you,” he softly said.

At that moment, you knew your life changed. You saw yourself in his eyes, maybe staring a little too long for two strangers who hadn’t even exchanged names yet. But you looked into them, and somehow the raging storm had transferred from the sky into your heart.

You became a jumbled mess after then, as Taehyung had exchanged his name with yours, along with all of his habits, hobbies, and love.

Every day after that was filled with giggles and kisses and sleepless nights wrapped in his sheets. He had shown you the other side of the world, and you accepted it with him by your side. He took things from you you couldn’t imagine anyone else being worthy enough to take. All your firsts, and what you hope, all your lasts, too.

But something had been sitting at the back of your mind ever since you laid eyes on him, creating an unsettling feeling.

He was, indeed, nowhere near the class you grew up in. Living in the worst part of the city with his younger brother and sister and parents in a small, 2-bedroom apartment. He worked overtime on most days; all of his earnings he gave to his mother was to pay rent. His brother had just become old enough to help out. However, Taehyung explained that he caught him a few times slacking — the young boy claiming that he was working but instead at the casino with his friends. His younger sister was 6 years old and by far the sweetest young girl you knew. She became someone like your own sister, someone you chose to connect with on a level you weren’t able to do with your own siblings. His father fell ill a few years ago and became unable to work a demanding job. Instead, he and his wife work at their own small grocery store on the lower level of the building down the street.

His family welcomed you generously, never once commenting on your class, never once making it a topic of conversation. They called you their daughter.

What was unsettling was not the circumstances involving his family. It was the circumstances involving your own.

You hadn’t mentioned him to your parents by choice. You knew how they would react, especially considering your father had already begun selecting the sons of his most trusted colleagues to propose a marriage. Though you are not ashamed of Taehyung, your family would most definitely be. They would never accept him as your love. It would be too tarnishing to their name, too embarrassing to taint the family with someone whose house costs less than their dining room table.

You kept Taehyung out of it, which doesn’t necessarily mean he won’t stop asking about meeting your family. He’s serious enough about you to want to take things further. But it puts you in an awkward situation, like now. Gasping into the sheets of his bed, his dick pulling out of you as cum falls down your thighs.

“Baby?” he pants, hovering over you and kissing up your shoulder to your cheek. He’s still catching his breath, as are you. He just railed the fuck out of you and still begs for conversation? You will never understand this man.

“Hm,” you ask, resting your head on your forearm in a desperate attempt to control your breathing.

“I want to meet your parents,” he bites the shell of your ear gently.

You groan loudly, tired of this topic of conversation. It seems to be the only thing on his mind these days.

In the two years you two had been dating, Tae was finally able to afford a place of his own while still helping his family. His brother stepped up and managed to land a good position at a nearby company that really helped with the family finances. Hence, Taehyung’s newfound freedom from the cramped space with his family. But ever since he moved into his new apartment two weeks ago, he’s been set on (a) “christening” every nook and cranny of his new place with you and (b) meeting your family.

“Baby, can we not talk about this right now?” you press your fingers to your temple before running them into your hair.

“We never have talked about it,” he reminds you. You pause, knowing he’s right. You’ve always swayed him away from saying anything about the topic other than simply asking to talk about it.

“Why would you want to meet my parents,” you begin. You feel him smile a little, happy to start this long-awaited talk.

“Because you met mine,” he slides his elbows under your armpits, resting his chin on your shoulder. You feel secure when he’s holding you like this, his chest embracing your back as he lets his weight rest on your body. If only the moment wasn’t ruined by the topic of conversation.

“I don’t want you to meet my parents,” you finally say. You know his heart broke a little from your words, being such a family man. But you feel obligated to be honest about this.

“What? Why not?” he crinkles his eyebrows together, pressing his nose into your cheek.

“Because, Tae,” you sigh into your palm. “They’re not…nice people.”

He lets the two of you sit in silence for a while, and you know he knows what you mean by that.

“It’s because I have no money, isn’t it?” he finally lets out.

You grab his hand, drawing circles into his palm.

“Essentially,” you sigh. It doesn’t feel good to admit that. Disappointment floods your veins for him, wishing your family was less shallow. Maybe then, your response would have been different. “You know I don’t care about that stuff. But they…they do.”

“Your siblings?” he asks.

“They’re all like that,” you continue, playing with his knuckles. “I’m the only one, it seems, that isn’t.”

He plays with your hand, sliding into your fingers to hold it.

“Do you wish you were?” he whispers seriously.

“No,” you laugh.

Finally, you turn around in his embrace, looking at his face from beneath him. This man is truly the most gorgeous person you’ve ever laid eyes on. Your palm holds the soft skin of his cheek as you search his eyes.

“Growing up, I used to be a little bit,” you admit. “But then I came to university. And I met you,” you rub his cheek with your thumb. “And you kind of flipped my whole world around.”

“Sorry,” he smiles. “Wasn’t the plan,” he pecks your lips. “I just needed an umbrella.”

You chuckle at that, pulling his face against yours to sear your lips into his. He accepts you, breathing into the kiss with chapped cherry lips and a big stupid blush on his face.

“I just want their blessing,” he clears his throat. “I-Is all.”

“For?” you peck his lips again.

“For me to date their daughter, amongst other things,” he laughs through his nose. “It’s also been…a little while.”

You do feel bad, as he had introduced you to his family about three months into dating. It’s been two years, and your family doesn’t even know you are dating someone.

“You’ll meet them when they have a reason to meet you,” you sigh against his nose. “They’re like that. It has to be on their terms, not mine or yours.”

“Hopefully, that’s sometime soon,” he says before kissing you deeply. You let him, wanting his lips to erase the scenarios you’ve let flood into your head of Taehyung meeting your family. You kiss him, asking him to heal you again, to give you the endless positivity he has within himself. But you can’t shake it this time around. You have a bad feeling about it, every time you think about making things just that more official with your family meeting him. You know Taehyung is it for you. But will your parents accept that? Your gut twists and turns at the thought, your answer spelled out for you.

___

Law school used to be interesting.

Back when lectures were shorter and the professors actually cared about their job, you had a fun time. Now, you sit through your lectures with the palm of your hand dragging the skin of your cheek upward as you lean against it. You stare at the oldest fart of a professor talk in circles, “womp wo-womp womp”, like in the Charlie Brown phone scenes. The only thing that keeps you from dozing off is the thought of your date tonight.

Last week, Taehyung had been working at this new site at this development on the other side of the city. They put in a fountain lake, with three willow trees (your favorite). Your boyfriend, of course, knew this and set up the idea of a picnic date along the new Willow Tree Lake. Just the thought alone makes you giddy.

These days, Taehyung has been working terrible overtime in an area near campus. Something about the pipes being plugged with slow-forming concrete from a newer company that started off just a few months ago. They fucked up a lot of the city’s piping, and of course, the company Tae works for has been assigned to fix all of their damage.

Needless to say, you feel like you haven’t seen him in ages. Only quick cell phone calls and tired texts in the small hours of the morning and night. You miss him terribly, and your body springs to life when the professor calls the end of the lecture. It’s your last one of the day, and you nearly run out to make your way to your car, ready to start preparing for your date tonight.

You’re met with a surprise, however, when you exit your dorm.

A chalky hand grabs onto your wrist, intertwining his fingers with yours, before pulling you into his chest.

“Hi, baby,” he smiles sheepishly.

“Tae!” you squeal, letting go of his hand and jumping into his arms. You wrap your arms around his neck, his own around your waist as he spins you in the open air of the campus. You giggle against him, quietly screaming when he goes a little fast. Eventually, he lets your feet feel the ground again, and you feel a strong urge to kiss him. It’s been so long.

“You’re so chalky,” you brush at his face, white powder smearing on his skin.

With that, he shakes out his hair onto yours, white dust falling onto your skin.

“Ah! Tae!” You shield your face from his assault. But he’s unrelenting, wrapping you in his arms and pulling you in for a kiss.

You let him kiss you, his big hands stroking your cheek. You don’t let him go on for too long, still not one to be too fond of PDA like he is.

“Oh, fuck,” Taehyung’s smile fades when he looks at your dress.

“Wha—” you look down at your dress, your white Chanel dress, covered in soot and powder and dirt, transferred from his clothes onto yours. “Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’,” he gulps, running his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry, Y/n. I wasn’t thinki—”

“It’s okay,” you smile, holding his hand. “Nothing my dad won’t buy a carbon copy of with a good excuse. To him, I fell. Plain and simple.”

Your words don’t do much, his sorry expression written all over his face still. You cup his cheek, reassuring him.

“What are you doing here, anyways?” you change the subject.

“The pipe issue I told you about ended up going into some apartment building. They sent me up there and the ceiling fell in. Hence all the…white stuff and dust,” he shows you his powdery hands, as if his cheeks and hair weren’t enough to prove his story. “Anyway, the civil engineers ended up needing to go back to the main building and find a new plan to go about it. So they sent us all home early. Thought I would come and surprise you.”

“It worked,” you kiss him again.

“I should probably go though,” he cuts the time short. “I want to shower before our date.”

“That would be nice, you’re right,” you laugh. “I’ll see you at 7, then?”

“Mhm,” he squeezes your hand again before looking down at your dress one last time. You can tell he’s still beating himself up over it when he tightly runs his hands through his hair and sends you a tight-lipped smile as if still saying sorry. You send him one back, letting him know it’s okay. And with that, he leaves your presence.

You’re alone until you reach home a little past 4. When you walked into your house, the last thing you were expecting was your eldest sister, brother, and parents waiting for you in the dining room.

“D-Did I miss something?” you laugh awkwardly. They all seem to be looking at you, disappointment or disgust written on their faces at the sight of your dress. You do your best to hide it with your purse.

“No,” your sister starts. “But we seem to be missing the part where you let dirty construction workers make out with you in public.”

You feel your heart sink to your feet, a cold heat spreading throughout your body.

“Susanna,” you pinch the skin between your eyebrows. “It’s not like that.”

“Please, enlighten us, then,” she snobs.

You take a breath, ready to explain yourself. But your father stops you.

“Invite the boy over,” he calmly states.

“What?” all four of you say at once.

“Dad, are you crazy?” your brother laughs. “He’s a construction worker.”

“Ren, please,” you attempt to control your anger. You don’t like the way they are talking about him right now. Only mentioning his job and ignoring the rest.

“What, don’t like me talking down on your pet?” he smiles, doing his best to get under your skin. It’s working, that’s for sure.

“Seriously, darling, what are you thinking?” your mother puts her hand on your father's arm.

“The boy clearly has feelings for my daughter,” he sets down his brandy on the dining table. “And, if I’m not mistaken, she has the same feelings.”

Your sister looks at you in disgust, wondering how you could ever fall for someone so low class.

“Besides, he owes me a good explanation for destroying your clothes,” he clears his throat. “That was custom designed.”

—

You run to your car after the ‘meeting’ your family welcomed you home with. Your hands shake and tremble, trying to start the car without bursting into tears.

Without even calling him, you race to Taehyung’s apartment, knocking on his door with panic laced in every vein of your body.

He opens it, a big smile warming your heart. But it quickly fades at the pale look on your face.

“What’s wrong,” he pulls you into his apartment.

He’s showered since you last saw him. He changed into his PJs, not yet ready to get into his outfit for your date tonight. On any other day, you would be struck with the comfy boyfriend look, ready to pounce into his arms and hold him close until the sun rose. But not today. Today, you have uncertainty flowing through your veins. Could this be the end? Could this be the start of something new? What will happen between now and midnight?

“Baby, talk to m—”

“My parents want to meet you,” you interrupt him.

“What?”

“T-They want to meet you,” you say again. “Actually, my entire family wants to meet you. Today. Tonight. For dinner. At my house.”

You watch him take it all in, his expression changing rapidly into emotions you can’t really put a label on. You’ve never seen this expression on his face. You’re sure it’s a bit of excitement, as he’s always wanted to meet them. But also a little bit of worry, as you’ve told him what they think of people like him.

“I-Is this about the dress?” he asks worriedly.

“Kind of!” you panic, your hands running through your hair. Frustrated tears flood your eyes. You’re just so frustrated with this situation. With your sister, with your brother and dad. With everyone but Taehyung. He doesn’t deserve this. “My sister saw us today, apparently. A-And she went to my parents, a-and they were waiting for me when I got home, along with my brother. My dad was the one who suggested you come over, and I don’t know why. I can’t read what any of them are trying to say.”

“Hey,” he grabs your shoulders. You start to cry, fat tears falling down your cheeks.

“This is not how I wanted today to go,” you cry-laugh to yourself.

“I know,” he kisses your forehead. “Just tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”

“I don’t know what to do,” you candor as you fall into his neck, sobbing against his shirt.

His big palms rub your back. You’re sure he’s a little shocked right now. You’ve told him about your family. About what kind of people they are. You’re sure he’s scared, too. You hate this. You wish you could just run away and avoid it all.

“Let’s start with figuring out what I’m going to wear, yeah?” he gently smiles down at you.

___

Dinner is awkward. So awkward.

It’s quiet, and your leg bounces rapidly in your seat.

Your parents hadn’t let Taehyung sit next to you. Rather, he sits across from you, unable to soothe your nerves with a hand on your thigh or palm.

Your sister and brother sit next to you, your parents on either end of the table. There are two empty seats next to Taehyung, him being closest to your father.

You’re sure your siblings had interrogated him a little when your mother forced you to change into something else when the two of you got here. Clad in a pink flowy dress and a braid, you nervously made your way down the stairs and into the dining room, only to find your boyfriend in front of his seat, nodding to the space between your siblings as your own.

Since the appetizers came in, no one had spoken a word.

It’s terribly uncomfortable, and you try to distract yourself by silently telling Taehyung to put his napkin in his lap instead of next to his plate. Your brother laughs, and you jab your elbow into his side.

“So,” your father starts. His voice sends a shock down your spine. “I’m sure you have a good explanation for the dress.”

Your nerves spike the highest they’ve ever been. The dress isn’t really that important. Had it been anyone else, maybe someone your father knew or liked, the dress would be replaced without a word the next day. His pressure on the dress with Tae makes you think he will use it against him, causing you to bounce both of your legs up and down rapidly.

“Yes, I—” you start, but your father raises his palm slightly, telling you to stay quiet and let him answer.

“Yes,” Taehyung clears his throat. “I apologize, sir. I was simply being careless. I was excited to see your daughter, and had acted before realizing what she was wearing.”

“That was custom made,” your sister starts. “By Chanel.”

Taehyung doesn’t seem to recognize the name, making your sister smile snottily.

“It’s a brand,” she shoves her food into her mouth with a snobby tug of her lips.

You clutch the end of your silverware, trying to transfer all the things you wish you could scream into the piece of silver metal.

“Enough,” your father stops her interrogation. He has made it clear he would be the one interrogating tonight. “I do have to ask, though,” he turns his attention toward Tae again. “What makes you think you’re worthy of seeing my daughter?”

The table is silent, everyone’s mind empty but your own. You could think of a million reasons, maybe even more than that, as to why he deserves you. But does Taehyung think he deserves you? You thought you made it clear within the past two years that he does, but his silence speaks for itself.

After a few more seconds of being silent, your father laughs a little through his nose.

“I am aware of your financial situation so that already docks a big chunk off your worth,” he starts again.

“Father,” you try to stop him.

“Your occupation is less than fulfilling,” he continues. “Surely, you must know that affection alone cannot support her.”

Taehyung’s mouth is so dry, that he wants to drink the entire ocean. But he lets it sit in discomfort, the truth ringing through his ears like a bomb dropped right in front of him.

“You care for her, son,” he sighs. “I can see that,” your father sets down his brandy, resting his elbows on the armrests of his chair, and latching his fingers together over his lower chest. “So, why don’t we just end this here. Before it gets any deeper than it is.”

You see Taehyung’s heart drop to his stomach. You wish you could go over to him and put it right back in his chest for him, but your father continues to drop it further and further until it eventually breaks in two upon impact with the hard floor.

“I’ll give you an ultimatum, just to be sure you understand,” your father starts. “You go back to your construction work and help your parents with their grocery business. Cut her out of your life. In return, I’ll forget about the dress. About the some 70 thousand dollars you owe me for the destruction of it.”

“Father, please,” you cry, starting to stand. "It was my fault." But your sister grabs your shoulder and pushes you back down onto your seat.

“If you’re smart, you’ll understand how long that would take to accumulate on top of your other finances to return,” he continues. “If you truly care about her, you’d let her find someone who can meet all of her expectations and give her a comfortable future.”

“No,” you start, but Taehyung silences you with his gaze.

He looks to you from your father, feeling the weight of his words. You look at him, seeing how he believes every word your father is saying. You see it ring in his ears, and you know exactly what his next words are going to be.

“Sir, I—” he rasps, defeat flooding his lungs. This is not about the dress. He’d spent the rest of his life paying your father back if it meant he’d let him have you. This is about your future that he knows he can’t support; about the fact that he knows the best he can give you is nowhere near the luxury someone else can. “I just want her to be happy.”

“In this world, love is not enough for that,” Your father stands up, his hand on Taehyung’s shoulder. “I’ll show you to the door, son,” your father says.

Taehyung stills, his attention suddenly transferred to the calluses on his palms. He examines them, then the scuffs on the rim of his sleeves. It serves as a reminder, that even the best things he owns cannot match up to the expectations served tonight. He knows you don’t care. He knows you’re better than this. But surely it might become easier with time for you. Your father would find someone genius, with wealth beyond imagination. You will forget about him with time, and your wounds will heal. You’ll have an army of new cars, go to fancy banquets with designer dresses, a penthouse in the city, a smart-suit husband, and beautiful children with loads of worth to their names. He thinks about what he could give you, and it amounts to close to nothing. He’s already given you everything he has, and it’s not enough to keep you safe.

He thinks about this before standing in his seat. Your breath hitches in his throat, watching him give you up, your father’s hand on his back guiding him through the dining room, neither sparing you a glance.

“No,” you cry, standing up. Your sister tries to stop you again, but you shove her hand away.

“Y/n L/n, if you chase that boy, right now will be the last time you step in this house!” your mother slams her hands on the table.

There are words you wish you could say. So many emotions and slander and curse words you wish you could shout and spit in her face.

“I'm happy with him,” is all you can say. "I love him"

“Love is but a word,” your mother rolls her eyes. “You will forget about him in two weeks! That boy cannot support you. He can be replaced.”

“He can’t be,” you counter. Your chest rises with words, an essay might come out of your mouth, but you’re silenced when your father comes back into the room, Taehyung gone from your sight. You silence yourself, knowing you have to make a choice. Without even thinking, your feet move, and you’re brushing past your father, opening the door to you’re home and welcoming the rain.

Your parents wouldn’t have his presence in your life, banishing him from your home after he showed up in the nicest clothes he owned. They forbid him from ever seeing you again, using the price of your stained clothes as a threat if he ever were to lay eyes on you again. But you ignore that, running after him, soaking yourself in the rain once again as you chase him.

You call his name, shouting it into the street. He ignores you, and you feel you’re going crazy the more you call out his name until he finally turns around in quick anger. By this point, you two had already gone well down the street, far away from your posh, gated house. He grabs your cheeks in his palms, pressing his lips harshly against yours. You kiss him with fervor, letting the rain soak your pink dress and braided hair. He does the same, not giving a care in the world about the time he spent trying to make himself look nice for your family. He kisses you as if it would be the last time he would ever feel your lips against his again.

“We can’t do this, Y/n,” he breaks the kiss. His forehead rests against yours, his eyes close as his jaw clenches from his own words.

“Tae,” you sob, cupping his cheek. He covers your hand with his own, squeezing it tight.

“You know we can’t, Y/n,” he shakes his head, looking into your tear-filled eyes. “They will never accept me.”

“I accept you,” you sniffle. “Please don’t leave me, Tae. I accept you.”

“It’s not enough,” he whispers.

“N-No,” you shake your head.

But he already began letting go of your hand, his heel taking a step back.

“T-Tae, no,” you grab his other hand, but he forcibly makes you let go. You watch him turn on his heel, his back replacing his chest.

“Kim Taehyung,” you sob into the open air of the empty street. He does nothing, continuing his path to wherever he is going. “Taehyung!” you scream, but he doesn’t stop.

Your chest rises and falls so quickly, that you feel dizzy. Panic rises into every vein in your body, watching him grow smaller and smaller as he distances himself from you. Never in your life had you felt like it was between life or death between two choices. But god, was it clear which option had been labeled death, and which one was life.

“Marry me,” you shout. You watch his feet stop, both shoes parallel to each other. The panic in your veins slightly subsides at the fact that his distance stopped becoming larger. And then you say it again. “Marry me, Taehyung.”

He turns around, and you begin walking—running—toward him.

“Don’t say that,” he angrily breathes through his nose once you reach him.

“Marry me,” you say it again.

He looks up, despite the rain, his jaw clenched.

“I can’t go through life without you,” you cry, shaking your head. “I can’t do it.”

“You can,” he denies.

“I’m so in love with you,” you laugh, wiping the tears from your eyes. “I love you.”

His hands clench, balled into fists. God, did he love you more than the world itself. More than himself. But he can’t be selfish. He can’t rip you away from your family.

“And what about them?” he nods his head in the direction of your house.

“They can’t replace you,” you cup his cheeks, forcing him to look at you. “No one can replace you.”

“You can’t replace your family, Y/n,” he says. “I’m just a guy. Probably the least qualified to have you,” he laughs through his nose. “I can be replaced. They cannot.”

“They have given me a choice,” you cry. His words hurt. You wish you could make him see just how irreplaceable he is. You cannot replace your family, but you cannot replace him, either. “I already made it the minute I ran out of the house.”

He looks at you, finally locking eyes with yours. You feel the panic fade when he looks at you, and you can’t help but feel that this is right. That you’re making the right choice.

“Y/n,” he starts, shaking his head.

“I chose you a long time ago,” you go on. “The minute I shared my umbrella with you, I chose you. All your boxy smiles and shy laughs. Your job; your family. You. Your heart.”

A tear falls from his eye, his jaw still clenched.

“I can’t give you this life,” he takes your hands from his cheeks, holding them tightly between your soaked bodies. “I-I will never be able to afford law school or a gated mansion in the city. Or a white Chanel dress,” he whispers the last part. “Your life — I can’t rob you of it.”

“You are my life, Tae,” you rub your nose against his. “That stuff doesn’t matter. I want you. Forever.”

He gulps, the look in your eye speaking nothing but the truth. It scares him because of course, he wants the best for you. But he is unsure of himself, of what he can give you other than his heart. But the way you look at him, as if that is truly enough for you, makes his worries subside. You’re choosing him. Between life or death, you took a side, labeling him as life.

He grabs your waist, his arm pulling you into his frame as he sears his lips onto yours. Big, callused palms cup your jaw, holding you against his lips as if you’d try to escape. This time around, the kiss is hard, so needy and loved. You feel loved like you’ve never felt before. All the panic in your heart fades and is replaced with a need to keep him close. You assume he feels the same, his strong arms lifting you around his waist. You laugh against his lips.

“I love you,” you chuckle, almost in disbelief that you could love someone so much. He’s given you something you thought you’d never receive in the world your parents brought you into. You feel fresh with him, like you’ve been born again.

He kisses you again, confirming he feels the same before he sets your feet back on the wetted sidewalk.

“Let’s go,” he takes your hand.

“Where?” you follow him.

“My place,” he looks back at you.

You come up to his side, holding his arm as you walk in the rain. It was just a walk until thunder struck again, and the rain started falling ten times harsher than it was before. It causes you to shriek, and Taehyung only laughs, beginning a sprint while you follow after him.

You two ran to the bus stop, where you kissed some more, before the bus arrived and you shivered in the air conditioning of the large vehicle until it arrived on the other side of the city.

His place became a little bit of yours. You had unofficially moved in until now, as you stumble in his arms into the elevator, making out like horny teens until the number for the 15th floor rang in his ears and he pulled away.

The kisses you press to his neck make his whole body feel weak, his fingers unable to find the key to his apartment amongst the many in the single key ring chain he owns.

“Baby,” he whispers desperately. “S-Slow down, m’ trying to find the key,” he nervously chuckles.

You only run your hands under his soaked shirt, feeling the divots of his abs under your fingertips. Working at a construction company certainly did have more perks than one.

Finally, he seems to have found the key, slipping it forcibly into the lock and turning it until it opened the door to his apartment.

“Come here,” he lifts you up onto his hips, walking you inside his place and pushing you against the door, making it close all the way. He’s sure to lock it after tossing his keys somewhere on the neighboring kitchen counter as he kisses hot trails up your neck. They’re hasty kisses, and so so needy.

“T-Tae,” you grip his hair.

The feeling makes him groan, his hand forming a fist against the wall in pure self-control.

You slide your fingers under his shirt again, except this time, they go all the way up. You force his shirt off his skin, and he lets you take it off as his hands firmly grip your waist. He uses his new grip to support you when he moves you off the wall, his legs guiding you through his apartment as you kiss his neck once more. This time, to leave marks.

You latch onto his sweet spot so tenderly, and he grips your hips hard enough to leave his own marks on your skin.

With one hand, he pushes open the door to his bedroom before landing you on the soft sheets of his bed. You’re overwhelmed with him. The smell of his clean sheets floods your lungs as he traps you underneath his body.

You gasp when he slides his hands up your waist, his fingers coming to your back to find the zipper of your dress.

He waits for your permission, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he plays with the zipper.

“Please, Tae,” you allow him.

He nods against your neck, telling you without words that he’s going to undress you.

You sit up for him, making it easier for him to carry the fabric down your hips. You’re revealed to him in your soaked bra set. Nothing fancy, just nude colors to hide your undergarments beneath your dress.

But despite the plainness, you watch him admire your body, eyes flicking back and forth, trying to remember what you look like underneath the rest of your clothes. You help him, reaching behind you to unhook your bra yourself.

It falls off your shoulders and your skin perks with the cold air mixing with your wet skin.

“Make love to me,” you ask. “Please.”

Taehyung’s mouth goes dry. He’s seen you naked countless times. Fucked you like a rabbit in heat multiple times in just a day. But god, did hearing you ask him to make love to you settle the weight of your proposal from earlier. You really do choose him. And suddenly, he feels like it is the first time he’s ever looked at you naked. Like it was the first time he was going to enter your body.

He felt nervous. So, so nervous. But never so sure of anything else in his life. He knew he wanted you as his forever. But was too selfless to ask you to leave your prosperous life for his. For the longest time, he thought he was living on borrowed time with you. That one day, his first and only love would eventually leave him. His dreams are coming true, and he doesn’t know how to process that other than following your exact command.

“Tae?” you cup his cheek.

He sits on his knees, each one placed next to your thighs as you sit below him.

You watch his throat bob as he swallows, his face leaning into your touch. You bring him back to life, his body finally moving to trap you against the sheets again.

With soft lips, much less needy than the prior ones you two have shared today, he kisses you. He’s gentle as his hips press against yours. You gasp against his lips, the feeling of his clothed cock against your thin underwear stirring things inside of you.

You wrap your legs around his hips, crossing your ankles to secure his embrace over your own.

Taehyung groans, the friction making his desire uncontrollable as he grinds against your core.

“T-Taehyung,” you gasp, head falling back against the sheets. He takes this as an opportunity to trap the skin of your neck with his teeth, gently biting at your flesh in soft confessions of his love.

Your breasts push against his bare skin, feeling overwhelmed when he takes your pert nipple between his fingers, pinching them slightly, just enough to drive you crazy.

It’s all too much, his lips, his fingers, his hips grinding into you, sending waves of pleasure straight into your core. You just want him already. You want to feel full of him.

Your heels start the process, digging at the hem of his jeans as if you could get them off without your hands when they’re so securely fastened by his belt.

“Fuck,” he moans, finally granting your wish as he pushes off of you and unbuckles his belt.

Dark brown eyes admire you, laying on his sheets, giving yourself to him completely. You stare back at him, watching him push his jeans and boxers down to the floor, stepping out of them slowly before he hooks his slender finger under your panties.

“A-Are you sure?” he asks you, hiking your legs up as your underwear slides off your smooth skin.

“Yes,” you nod.

You hear your panties fall on the floor, joining the rest of your clothes, when he slowly spreads your legs, creating a place for himself as he falls on top of you again. Strong arms come under your shoulders, and you slide your hands up his neck, one arm securing him close to you, the other feeling a rapid heartbeat under his chest. You gasp when you feel the head of his cock brush gently against your thigh, so close to your core, but far enough away to make you want to beg for it. You, too, feel like it’s the first time all over again. When he took your virginity and your heart and wrote his name all over your skin.

“You look like you’re having second thoughts,” he shakily breathes above you, a small nervous smile on his lips.

“No,” you laugh shyly through your nose, looking into his warm eyes. You see yourself in them, and you’re reminded of the moment you first saw yourself in them two years ago.

“Are you scared?” he asks, lining himself up with your entrance. You know he isn’t referring to sex, but rather everything that comes after. Of your parents. Of everything you’ll have to sort out. But you know it is nothing that you won’t do alone. The man above you has made it clear that you will never feel alone again.

“A little,” you admit with a small smile.

“Me, too,” he kisses your cheek softly. With a push of his hips, his face falls into your neck, a small groan coming from his lips as you gasp and claw at the skin of his shoulder.

“Oh, T-Tae,” you moan sweetly, tangling your fingers in his hair as he slides out just to slam back into you once more. You feel giddy, a small raspy laugh coming from your throat as he develops a pace. He’s so perfect for you, fits you like a glove in more ways than one. He fills you completely. Over fills your cup with all of his love and giggles and smiles. You can’t get enough, it’s almost comical.

“Faster,” you whine, arching you back into him.

He obeys, grabbing your thighs and pushing them upwards until they’re hooked on his shoulders.

“Fuck, Y/n,” he moans, slamming into you with a newfound passion. Your nails slide down his biceps, some drawing blood from the feeling of his dick ripping you open. It makes you choke beneath him, your head falling back as he fucks you full of his cock. “S-So perfect.”

His nose brushes against your collarbone, using your neck as support when he leans his forehead against it. He takes a deep breath, breathing in your scent before he takes your hips firmly into his palms and holds you against the sheets. Your legs fall naturally, too weak to hold themselves up. But he doesn’t seem to care, instead using his new grip to pull you into his hips, pushing you deeper onto his length than you think you’ve ever gone before. The tip of his head kisses your cervix, and you wince in pleasurable pain when he slides out and slams against it again.

“A-Ah,” you whine, unsure how to feel about this new sensation. The man above you is sure, slowly but harshly pushing into you. His sureness makes you swell, and you feel like he is truly combining his body with your own the deeper he goes.

“Y-You,” he nearly slurs. Your pussy squeezes the head of his cock so justly, he feels his vision going blurry. Everything about you makes him explode. His dick, his mind, his heart. Everything. He can't even finish his sentence.

He goes faster, slipping past your folds with your slick sliding down your thighs and onto his sheets.

“T-Tae,” you panic, your high coming in quickly, setting warmly at the pit of your stomach just seconds away from release. “Tae, I’m gonna cum.”

“F-Fuck, me, too,” he moves faster, harder. His hands touch you, your skin following in flames the further his hands slide up your waist. He groans uncontrollably when you clench around him, your warm heat spreading down your walls as he makes love to you. “Y-Yn,” he whines.

“Say you love me,” you gasp, your voice nearly a whisper as you cream his cock.

“I love you,” he kisses your lips. It’s wet and so disgustingly sweet, you force him to lean himself into your body again, to use it to cum. “I love you so much.”

You watch him shut his eyes tight, his cock twitching inside of you, begging for release as he fights it, probably wanting to last longer for you, to give you a second orgasm before he lets himself cum.

“Cum for me, sweet boy,” you kiss his cheek.

“A-Ah,” he moans, his nose rubbing against yours. You squeak when he slams himself into you, harsh and raw, pushing past you as he fills you with ropes of white cum. “Oh, fuck,” he shakes, fists gathering the fabric of the sheets tightly as he falls into your neck, dick twitching as he cums hotly in your walls. He can’t control the noises, he’s never felt like this before. Like nothing else matters but his future with you.

His dick slips past your cervix, exiting your walls with loads of cum falling out of your abused cunt.

He falls on top of you, the two of you catching your breath with closed eyes and heavy limbs. Until you start laughing.

“What?” he chuckles with you. Your laugh is contagious.

He comes up to look at you, your cheeks red and your pupils shot with love.

“Nothing,” you shake your head. You look at him, cupping his cheek as he switches his gaze between your eyes and your cherry lips. “I-I’m just so happy.”

He laughs at that. Himself full of the same happiness.

“So?” you poke his cheek, raising an eyebrow.

“So?” he raises his own.

“Will you?”

“Will I…?”

“Will you marry me, silly,” you roll your eyes. Although it doesn’t seem nearly as sassy as it is supposed to, not with a giant smile plastered on your face.

“Oh,” he smiles back. “I guess.”

“'You guess'?!” you pinch his shoulder. He winces but laughs as he pulls you into a hug, switching himself on his back with your hips straddling his own. Cum leaks down onto his softening cock, but that is the last thing on either of your minds. His big hands feel the smoothness of your thighs, as yours play with the skin of his chest. If he didn’t know every one of your quirks, he would have taken it as you being silly. But he knows you’re just a little nervous about his answer.

“Yes,” he takes your hand, kissing your knuckles. “Of course I will. But, let me do it properly.”

You physically relax, and pure happiness floods your system.

“We never do things properly,” you remind him, rolling your eyes with a smile again.

“You’re right,” he acknowledges. “I-It might be a while, but at least let me buy you a ring.”

“Okay,” you bite your lip, hiding a closed-lipped smile. It doesn’t work, of course, and the two of you are left a stupid mess as you start your forever together.

___

[End. Do not copy. Original work of @jungkookstatts , 2024]

[cottonlemonade]

Dating You For A Bet [Part 4]

word count: 3420 || avg. reading time: 15 mins.

pairing: university AU!Matsukawa x chubby!Reader

genre: angst, fluff

warnings: swearing, use of alcohol

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3]

By the time Christmas was over, Issei and you were texting each other regularly again. It started with you sending him a picture of a holiday snack he told you about over coffee, and you wanted to confirm that it was the right one. Later that day, he let you know that the photo made him crave the snack, too, so he had gone out to get a bag himself. An hour or so later you asked him if he’d seen the latest cheesy holiday flick on Netflix, he said No but followed it up by saying that it would be rectified immediately and you, naturally, watched it at the same time, texting each other updates and reactions about the plot. There was no doubt that you missed him, and you felt a weird mixture of small happiness and caution whenever your phone buzzed with a new text, but whichever way you looked at it, you couldn’t forget the fact that the first half of your relationship had all been pretend. You kept reminding yourself over and over as you laughed about his silly comments on the movie and when you replayed a voice message he sent imitating an especially ridiculous line.

The day before New Year’s then, your heavily suppressed need to be in his arms again was put to the test. The cold and gloom of the weather coupled with the immense amount of Christmas rom-coms you’d consumed had you reach for the phone more times than you cared to admit. But instead of giving in to the urge, you tossed the devilishly tempting device onto your roommate’s bed and buried yourself deep into a blanket, with your comfort show playing on your tablet.

“Hey, Y/n.”, your roommate came in, freshly showered after a workout at the gym. Yawning from a lazy day spent in bed, you watched her open her wardrobe and pick through her clothes.

“Date tonight?”, you asked.

“Hmm, kinda. My boyfriend and I are gonna go out drinking with some friends and stay up til midnight.”

“That’s nice.”, you said flatly.

“Wanna come?”, she asked, holding a skin-tight little black dress up to her towel-wrapped body and assessing her image in the spotty mirror.

You cocked an incredulous brow in your blanket burrito.

“Do I look like I wanna party?”

Your roommate met your eyes in the reflection and snorted.

“I mean, we still have two hours until we’re supposed to meet. That’s plenty of time to get ready.”, she gave you an encouraging smile, “Come on, I’d love for you to come.”

“Stop tugging at your skirt, you look great. - There he is. Hey handsome!”

Your roommate somehow lengthened her stride despite the high heels and restricting dress, jogging into the arms of the young man waiting in front of the restaurant. He had a stocky build and was half a head shorter than her, especially noticeable in those shoes. You recognized him as the varsity Volleyball team’s libero and offered a small wave hello, which went unnoticed because they were very busy greeting each other. To be honest, the way he looked into his girlfriend’s eyes after she kissed him made you believe in true love and want to throw up at the same time.

Once inside, you were all welcomed warmly by a large group of people sitting around a long table, every bit of which was covered with platters of food. The smell of steak, seared vegetables, and warming soups wafted through the air and made your mouth water. A few more seats were unoccupied but filled up in the next half an hour as more friends joined. You had never talked to or even met any of these people and for the most part, stuck to looking at your dinner and nodding politely along to surrounding conversations.

“Why are you always late?”, the boyfriend laughed towards the door while he dug into a pile of meat. You turned slightly, mildly curious. The slice of cheesy omelet almost fell from your chopsticks when none other than Issei greeted the table, giving your roommate’s boyfriend a half hug. He did a double-take when he saw you. “Y/n. What - hi, how are you?”

Draping his jacket over the back of the chair, he sat down on the remaining space next to you. His leg began to bounce.

Throughout the evening, with the help of your roommate, people also turned their attention to you and even asked questions about what it was like to live and study in Japan, about your home country and holiday traditions.

“Look at you making all those new friends.”, Issei said under his breath, smiling at his plate, but obviously directing the comment at you.

“Well yeah, I’m amazing.”, you said and dramatically pretended to flip your hair.

He smiled even wider and looked at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Yeah. You are.”, he lowered his voice even more until it was barely more than a soft low hum, “You look beautiful, by the way. The outfit suits you.”

You pretended to admire the holiday decoration of the room so he wouldn’t see the heat rising in your face.

You were luckily spared any need for a reply when someone to your right said into the group, “What do you say, should we get the party started?”

General cheers erupted around the table, and a waiter was asked for a round of shots.

You raised the glass to your nose for an experimental sniff.

“It’s sake.”, your roommate explained.

“Oh, you might wanna ask for something else.”, Issei advised.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t think you’ll like sake.”

You cocked a challenging brow.

“Because… you don’t drink a lot, and you like your alcohol sweet.”, he added tentatively.

Along with the rest of the table, you toasted to the upcoming new year, holding eye contact with Issei as you demonstratively downed the glass.

“Alright, be my guest.”, he shrugged and drank his own.

You shuddered next to him, eye twitching and mouth pursing.

His shoulders shook with suppressed laughter as he leaned slightly forward on the table to hide your making faces of disgust behind his broad back.

When you resurfaced, he asked smugly, “How was it?”

“Best thing ever.”, you pressed out and turned once more in your chair for another round of coughing.

“I’m so glad you like it!”, your roommate exclaimed and took bottles worth of sake from a new tray the waiter was holding out for her, “Have another one!”

“Sure.”, you croaked, discreetly stepping on Issei’s foot so that he would stop cackling.

He was already done with his second glass, while you still tried to hype yourself up for what you could only describe as rubbing alcohol with notes of hellfire and a hint of sandpaper.

You turned the glass in your fingers and then noticed how Issei rested his arms on the table as if more engrossed in everyone’s conversations. Behind his elbow, out of view for everyone else, he made a small grabbing motion while he talked with your roommate’s boyfriend. A little puzzled, you carefully pushed your sake into his waiting fingers. It must have been the right move because he set down his own emptied glass in front of you and now smoothly drank yours. As the night went on, glass after glass was exchanged this way and Issei’s cheeks soon turned rosy.

There was still some time left until midnight when Issei stumbled out of the bathroom and nearly caused a collision with a waiter.

“Sor- sorr- ssory.”, he slurred, looking a little past the waiter, probably because he saw two of them and chose the wrong one to address.

Being the only sober person at the table and feeling very guilty for him having had twice as many drinks as everyone else, you volunteered to take him back to the dorm safely. Issei stood still-ish as you wrapped his scarf around his neck and helped him into his jacket but tumbled immediately as soon as you began ushering him towards the exit. He slung his arm around your shoulder, and you half-hoisted him into a waiting taxi in front of the restaurant. You gave the driver the address of the university and opened your handbag to fish out the small bottle of water you had prudently packed. While you were still engrossed in your task in the darkness of the backseat, Issei mumbled, “Lissen, you’re very preddy an’ I’m sure you’re suber nice but… I’m not over my ex an’- an’ it wouldn’t be fair to you. M sorry. I jus’ can’t.”

You stiffened slightly, then held out the water to him without a word.

By the time you arrived at the campus, Issei had dozed off and the side of his face was smooshed against the window.

With the help of the kind driver, you got him out of the car and made your way to his dorm. The campus was quiet. Most students were probably in the city, celebrating, anticipating.

The water and cold night air seemed to have sobered Issei up a little, and he managed to swerve around a bollard rudely put in his way. Progress was arduous, and the freshly fallen layer of snow crunched under his sneakers. You really wore the wrong shoes for this. Your heels slipped on the icy ground, making you cling to Issei as much as he did to you for stability.

“Let’s sit for a moment.”, you suggested about halfway to the dorm. Issei was heavy as a dead weight, and you could feel sweat forming under your hat from lugging him along. Using the hem of your coat, you brushed snow off a wooden bench before you both plopped down. A few stray snowflakes rushed along the ground, picked up by a little breeze that swept over the empty courtyard. You offered him another gulp of water, which he readily accepted.

“Thank you.”, he whispered, almost too quiet to hear, then cleared his throat and repeated it a bit louder.

“No problem.”, you said and focused on the ground where you nudged some snow around with the tip of your shoe.

Issei groaned, pushing both his hands onto the bench, and swayed slightly back and forth.

“How are you feeling?”

“Never better.”, he mumbled, keeping his head low and eyes closed.

“We’re almost there. Not much further.”

“I never should have taken that bet.”, he said quietly.

“What?”

“I never should have even talked to these guys.”

He was now staring at his knees and his voice caught when he continued, “I can’t believe I ruined it. I should have… I should have come up to you on our first day and I should have kissed you.”

You didn’t know what to do, so you tried to joke, “Well, I would have probably used my pepper spray and reported you to the dean.”

Issei gave a toneless laugh.

“Look, I…” You hesitated. “I forgive you. It’s okay. - And hey, you’ll meet someone new someday and definitely not make that same mistake again.” After a moment's waver, you put your hand on his shoulder, squeezing for comfort.

“I don’t want - shit-”, he broke off and turned his head away, then coughed and tried to take a deep breath, but his back stiffened and he coughed again. You realized he started sobbing.

“Issei…”

“Don’t-“, he began.

“Don’t… what?”, you asked softly, taking your hand off his shoulder in case he meant you should stop touching him.

He turned to you, eyes drowning in tears, “I’m so sorry. But don’t … don’t tell me I’ll find someone else.”

“But…”

“No! I don’t want anyone else! God, y/n, I love you so much. I can’t just…”, he hiccuped, “You’re everything I want. You’re all I can think about. I understand that you want to move on. And you deserve the world.” His large hands, still cold from the bench, came up to ever so gently cup your face, “You can hate me but… don’t tell me I’ll ever get over you. I won’t.”

With that, he dropped his hands and rested his forehead on your shoulder as the tears kept falling and you patted his head to soothe him through a new wave of sobs.

The inky black sky lit up with bright lights. Crackling, whistling, and popping of the New Year’s fireworks almost completely swallowed your reply. “I can’t hate you.”

It took a few tries for Issei to slot the key into the front door lock of his building but eventually, you managed to help him up the stairs and into his room. The burnt plant still sat on the window sill and you spotted one of the plushies you had returned to him stuffed halfway under his pillow when he flopped face down onto his bed. You took off his jacket and scarf and made him drink the last bit of water left in the bottle before covering him with his blanket.

“Thank you.”, he said and yawned widely.

“No problem.” Your eyes met and for a fraction of a heartbeat you wanted to lean down to kiss him goodnight but instead, you brushed a lock of hair from his forehead.

“Are you gonna stay?”, he asked hopefully.

“No, I shouldn’t. I’m gonna head back to my room.”

When you got up he held onto the tips of your fingers. It wouldn’t haven’t taken any effort at all to pull yourself free but you didn’t want him to let go.

“Issei, I have to go.”

He thought about it, studying your face in the dim light of the occasional distant rocket. Then he sat up and pushed the blanket off.

“I should walk you.”

“What? You- no. Lay back down.”

“But it’s dark and creepy. You hate dark and creepy.”

“I’ll be fine.”, you couldn’t help but smile when you put your hands on his shoulders and gently pushed him into his pillow.

“Do you want to call me? I’ll stay on the phone with you until you’re in your room.”

You shook your head and tucked him in again.

“Sorry… I didn’t wanna be pushy about it.”, he muttered into his blanket.

“I’ll text you when I’m there.”

His eyes brightened and he nodded.

As soon as he got your message that you were in your bed, he hugged his phone to his chest and fell asleep.

The New Year started with a hangover for Issei. His head felt like it was about the size and weight of a prized watermelon. He wanted to check his phone for the time but the battery was dead. No wonder, since he found it underneath him in bed instead of charging on his nightstand. He sat up and rubbed his face with both hands, trying to piece together what happened the night before. Deciding that the memories would come back to him eventually, he plugged in his phone and went to take a shower in the meantime, using a hand on the wall to steady himself. The hot water brought back a few bits and pieces, flashes of you sitting in a restaurant next to him laughing, you murmuring a pouty thank you when he took the sake off your hands, him sobbing on some bench. When that last one started to return in vivid detail, he shook his head and shut off the water. He cleared his throat and continued with his morning routine, hoping that the sobbing was nothing but an overly dramatized version of whatever stoically shed manly tears he’d actually produced.

With the groan of an old man, Issei sat back down on his bed a few minutes later, while he started up his phone again. A couple of messages from his friends waited in the group chats, tags on social media, a video clip from his sister and her husband, and a voicemail from his parents wishing him a happy new year. But all of that was ignored when he saw a little number next to your name in the chat.

One was from a notification about a deleted message somewhere around 2 a.m., the other was just sent 10 minutes ago.

“We should talk about last night. I’m having breakfast rn. When you’re up, come find me.”

He only stumbled once on his way to the closet where he grabbed random sweats and a hoodie and when he shuffled back into his bathroom slippers - the first shoes he saw - he ran down the corridor and out of the building.

You were lost in thought, stirring your mostly soggy cereal with a long spoon and absently tapping around on your phone, wondering if he was still asleep. The murmured practice of your small prepared speech was cut short, however, because the doors to the cafeteria flew open and a very disheveled Issei looked around. It only took a moment to spot you in the almost empty hall and he hurried over.

“Good morning.”, you said, your heart softened as you noticed a cowlick just above his ear, “Happy New Year.”

“Yea. That. Good New Year to you. You wanted to talk?”

“Okay, straight to the point.” You pushed your breakfast tray away from you so you had space to nervously knead your hands on the table.

But before you could say anything he started rambling, “I’m so sorry for what happened yesterday, I didn’t mean to lay all that on you. If you wanna tell me that we can’t even be friend-adjacent anymore I might as well change schools. So -“

“Firstly, I’m glad we’re not overreacting here.”

“Right.”, he breathed out and sat down across from you.

“Alright, I’m not gonna drag this out. I still have feelings for you and while it will take a bit for me to trust you again I’d like to give it another go. - If you’re up for it.”

Issei blinked in shock. You used the opportunity to elaborate a little on the terms you had laid out last night in bed while you were staring at the ceiling, too preoccupied with overthinking to consider sleep.

“We can get to know each other again and see where it takes us. A fresh start.”, you looked at him, waiting. He still gaped at you. “This is the part where you would answer.”, you said patiently.

“Yes!”, he called, the echo of which bounced off the walls and had the few other students and cafeteria staff turn their heads in his direction. He cleared his throat. “Yes. Ahem. That sounds … uhm. Good.”

“Good?”

“I said what I said.”

You smiled and nodded.

“Okay. Let’s start with a coffee.”

“Coming right up.”

And he was already jogging to the beverage station.

You watched as he placed two steaming cups on a tray and came back over, slowing his steps in thought, then speeding up again with new determination.

He came to a halt next to the table.

“Hey, is this seat taken?”

“What?”

“This chair.”, Issei nodded to the empty spot, “Are you expecting anyone?”

“What are you doing?”

“Well, you said, you’d have to get to know me again so… Hi, I’m Issei and I couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you are. Would it be okay if I joined you?”

You frowned with amused disbelief.

“If I say No, do I still get that coffee?”

“Maybe?”

“Fine… just sit down.”, you chuckled.

“Thank you.”

He took his seat and put the mug down in front of you, excitedly.

“So, what’s your name?”

“Y/n.”

“That’s gorgeous. Very fitting.”

“Uh huh.”, you grinned but decided to play along, “I gotta warn you, I just got out of a relationship.”

He wrapped his hands around his coffee. “Oh yeah? Tell me about the guy.”

You sighed. “Are we really doing this?”

“Hm hm.”

“To be honest, he was kinda a jerk. Started off great but then I found out he was just using me.”

“Bastard.”

“Yeah, you can say that again.”

“Well in the name of full disclosure, I have to confess something, too. I just got dumped by the love of my life and you remind me of her.”

“So I’m your rebound.”

“Yes.” He took a sip of coffee.

“Wow, you suck at this.”

“Oh, just you wait til you find out about all the other things I suck at. The list is pretty long. We can talk about all of them on our first date, x/n.”

“It’s y/n.”

“Right, sorry.”

You both laughed.

a/n: thank you so much to everyone who was invested in this story. This was truly another passion project and I hope you enjoyed it until the end 🌟

taglist: @grassbutneo @samoankpoper21 @reikashe @jasminelee324 @remiratboi @ilovemymomscooking @hashxu @animechick555 @appepel @aldebrana @the-dreaming-me @screamin-abt-haikyuu @dira333 @garouaddict @gojoscloset @multi-fandom-fanfic

[masterlist]

[staylovesmiley]

Give Me Your TMI~ Chapter 4

˚⊹ᰔ Pairing; Yang Jeongin x Fem!reader, Stray kids x Fem!reader

₊˚⊹ᰔ ₊˚⊹ᰔ Summary; In a world where Humans and Hybrids should be living as equals, Hybrids are still viewed as being closer to their animalistic side than their humanistic. Deep in the woods lives a band of misfit hybrids who reject these societal views and keep to themselves, choosing to live away from humans. What happens when the youngest of this rogue group meets a lost Human girl, befriending her after an incident where he must rely on her for help?

₊˚⊹ᰔ ₊˚⊹ᰔ ₊˚⊹ᰔ Warnings; hybrid!au, female!reader, angst, mild violence, mentions of sexual harassment/assault and discrimination, she/her pronouns used for reader, this is very loosely based off the overall themes/tones of the manga and anime fruits basket~

How did you get yourself into this situation, you think to yourself.

You are sat in between Jeongin and Minho at the large wooden dinner table. Each side has four chairs with a ninth chair seated at the head of the table where a very stoic Wolf Hybrid sits in complete silence. Across from you is Felix, giving you small encouraging smiles in between bites of his food as you merely stir yours around with your spoon anxiously. The fox hybrid to your left seems to notice your unease and reaches down to slip his hand onto your thigh with a reassuring squeeze, knocking you out of the daze you seem to be caught in. “Pretty, you need to eat…” He whispers into your ear and you nod, taking a few slow bites but with the tense feeling in the air it feels like swallowing rocks instead of the pieces of vegetables and tender meat you and Minho had prepared.

You feel an pair of eyes practically glued to you from beside Felix and with a hard swallow you look up to meet Seungmin’s gaze, the hybrid quickly looking down at his bowl but he seems to not have much of an appetite either.

Everyone seems to finish their meals and part one by one until it is just you and Seungmin, Minho having scolded the both of you that until at least half of your bowls were empty you were not to leave the table. You heard the hybrid let out a small whimper and winced a bit, trying to make yourself at least eat half like Minho had said but your mind was moving too fast for you to focus on food at that moment. Carefully, you looked back over at Seungmin and waved softly, taking a shaky breath. “Um…Seungmin?” God, this was probably a bad idea. You just felt awful for making him so uncomfortable. While you had at least taken a few decent bites of food he hadn’t touched a single thing.

When his name left your mouth he flinched, causing your heart to ache as you frowned at him. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry…um- yeah..I’m sorry.” You couldn’t think of anything else to say, mentally slapping yourself for sounding so silly but when you hear the sound of his spoon clinking against his bowl as he slowly begins to eat, you quickly relax. The two of you eat in silence for the rest of your meal, both of you managing to clear your bowls much to the older cat hybrids delight.

As Minho passed by, collecting the dirty dishes he gave you a light pat on the head and a soft. “Good job.” Which caused you to beam proudly and get up from your seat. When you glanced to where the beagle hybrid had been sitting you noticed he was already gone, frowning a bit to yourself but you should have known it would talk a bit longer, if at all, for him to become comfortable being around you from what Jeongin had explained.

You joined the two cat hybrids in the kitchen, leaning against the counter by the sink as you watched Minho wash and Felix dry and put away the dishes. “Is there anything I can do to help?” You asked, watching the way they worked to fluidly and in sync. They gave each other a look, smiling softly before Felix turned to you. “We’ve got it, just rest for tonight and then you can help with breakfast in the morning.” You nod slowly, staying at the counter to observe them a bit longer. “Um…I hope you don’t mind me asking- but how are you guys so in tune with each other?” They give each other another look, almost seeming to communicate telepathically before Minho smiles at you. “Well, like how normal cats can form bonds to one another, Felix and I are bonded.” The younger hybrid nodded in agreement and you raised your eyebrow at them curiously. “Oh so you’re like…together?” Before they could answer you couldn’t help but tease the older of the two lightly, bringing back your conversation from earlier. “Is Felix the husband?” Minho laughed while he dried off his hands, having just finished washing the last dish, whereas Felix looked on with wide eyes and a horrified expression.

The older came up to you, hands resting on the counter you were leaning against on either side of you to cage you in. The cat smirked, leaning in so his face was inches from your own. “What makes you so curious about if I have a husband? Are you wanting to fill that position?” A blush fanned across your cheeks, looking up wide eyed as Felix burst into laughter beside you. You mumbled, not sure if he would even be able to hear you. “‘m not a husband, I’m a wife-“ of course, he still heard, all hybrids having a very keen sense of hearing. A light purr rumbled in the older cat’s chest as he leaned in even closer to whisper in your ear. “I’m sure you’re a very good wife, indeed…might just have to take you for myself.”

A low growl could be heard from beside you, causing you to turn your head and face the fox hybrid with his ears flat to his head and tail puffed up like he had been electrocuted. “Hyung, back. off.” Jeongin’s voice was tight, and for the first time you could see the sharp point of his canines as he snarled at the older hybrid.

Minho smirked at the youngest, tilting his head to the side as he pulled back from you. “Awe, our innie is feeling a bit jealous? Don’t worry, I was only teasing.” You blinked a few times, looking from Minho to Jeongin. “Jealous?” The younger hybrid blushed as he turned his face away shyly, coughing into his hand. Your expression softened and you pushed away from the counter to ruffle his soft hair and give a light scratch behind his ears. “Oh Jeongin, there’s no need to be jealous. You’ll always be my best friend here.” Minho and Felix looked on with wide eyes, not believing how oblivious you could be and the fox before you let out a little whine before pulling you to him protectively while glaring at his hyungs over the top of your head.

You allowed the youngest to nuzzle against you, his need to completely drench you in his scent taking over even as you turned around in his arms to face the two cat hybrids once more. “Wait, so if you are bonded that must mean you’ve been together for a long time right?”

Minho shrugged, looking back at Felix as if he was checking to see if it was alright to answer your question and the younger cat nodded. “We were raised at the same shelter.” Minho said finally, Felix coming over to stand beside him and rest his head on the older’s shoulder. “Wait- like where Innie is from?” You felt the fox in question tightening his grip around your waist and you instinctually brought a hand up behind you to run your fingers through his hair soothingly. Minho smiled at the interaction, arms crossing over his chest. “No, not necessarily….hybrid centers are a lot more- like a factory? They take hybrids from breeders and raise and condition them a specific way to make the most money. They aim to create the perfect pets…” The older’s words caused you to frown, your free hand gripping Jeongin’s wrist where his hands were clasped together around your midsection.

“Shelters, however, take in abandoned hybrids of all ages and aim to rehabilitate and nurture them. It’s a much more relaxed environment. Still- Felix and I had bonded almost instantly and when it came time that someone wanted to adopt him they refused to take me as well…” Felix had a pout on his delicate features, seeming to be recalling the events as he buried his face in the older’s neck and Minho, like you had with Jeongin, brought a hand to the back of his neck wordlessly and gave him a comforting squeeze. “That’s when we broke out and found ourselves here…we knew we wouldn’t be able to survive without each other and well- we seem to be doing just fine here don’t you think so?”

You smiled warmly, nodding your head. “I’d say so….is that why you aren’t as scared of me? Cause things were more relaxed for you growing up?” Felix nodded then, pulling away to face you. “Mhm! I mean, yeah it was scary when we were almost separated and they wouldn’t listen to us that we needed to be together….but overall the humans who took care of us were very kind.”

It made a lot of sense, the way the two seemed to be the least hesitant around you after having just met, aside from Jisung who you knew had never met a human before you so he had nothing really to compare you to to be wary. You thought for a moment why Jeongin seemed to warm up to you so quickly, only realizing that he had over a month of time alone with you just not to your knowledge of him being a hybrid and not a normal fox.

“I’m sorry they tried to separate you two…it’s so obvious that the two of you mean a lot to each other- I can’t imagine how scary that must have been.” You gave them a frown, stepping away from Jeongin, despite his whines of protest, to wrap your arms around both cat hybrids tightly. Felix embraced you happily while Minho feigned disgust, head thrown back as he let out an exaggerated groan that you were suffocating him.

You couldn’t help the laughter that escaped you as you pulled away, the cats bidding you a good night with reminders to be up early to help with breakfast and you assured them that you would be on time. Jeongin was quick to pull you back towards him, one again nuzzling against you aggressively. “You smell too much like Minho-hyung now.” He huffed, his cheek rubbing behind your ear and his breath tickling the back of your neck. “I-Innie cut it out-“ your words were halted when you felt the gentlest graze of sharp teeth against your neck. Your breath hitched and the hybrid could hear how your heart rate began to skyrocket.

Jeongin smirked to himself, pride swelling in his chest at the reaction he was able to pull from such a small gesture. He wondered briefly how you would react if he were really to bite down, claim you as his own for all his hyungs to see so that maybe they would back off and realize that you were his pretty human and they should know their place.

“Jeongin, stop.” Your words were firm, as firm as your palms placed against his shoulders as you pushed him away gently. “I think you’re starting to get a little carried away, pervy little fox.” Jeongin pouted, looking at you confused until he realized while lost in his daydream he had drooled all down the side of your neck and shoulder. Flames of embarrassment licked at his skin and caused him to flush tremendously. “I-I…I’m sorry pretty- shit-“ he looked around before grabbing the dish towel Felix had set aside when he finished drying the dishes earlier and carefully cleaned up the mess of fox slobber he had left on you.

You couldn’t help but giggle, causing the hybrid to smile at the sound. “What were you even thinking about, innie? You seemed so spaced out.” He blinked a bit, shaking his head immediately. No way he could tell you what he had been thinking of. What if you felt differently? What if you didn’t want to be his? What if you would be disgusted with his craving for such an animalistic act of possession.

“Jeongin? Calm down- you’re rubbing a bit hard there.” Panic set in once again and he pulled back quickly when he realized he had been scrubbing your skin raw as he once again got lost in thought. “You must be tired. Let’s go to bed, yeah?” Your soft smile calmed him instantly and he nodded, taking the hand you offered before letting you pull him back to room.

Once safely inside you pulled him over and sat him down on the edge of the bed, running your hands through his hair gently as his arms once again snaked their way around your waist with his face pressed against your stomach. You smiled softly down at him as you began to hum softly a tune to an old lullaby you had heard as a child.

“Pretty?” His voice was hesitant, just barely above a whisper. “Yes, innie?” He took a deep breath, eyes closed as he thought of how to say what it was he wanted to. “Did you- um….were you in-inlove? You know…with him?”

You sighed, eyes closing as you thought for a moment how to put it into words, just as the hybrid had before asking his question. “No, I wasn’t. Jeongin I…where I come from, women don’t have a say in what our futures hold. I married him because I was told to, not because of love.” His frown could be felt against where his cheek was pressed to your lower abdomen, your hands never ceasing in their soft mensurations of combing through his hair.

“That’s not very fair…aren’t you a human just like your husband? Why don’t you get to choose-“ You shrugged, looking down at him softly. “I don’t really know, innie. That’s just how I was raised…how all the girls were raised where I’m from. Even my mother, and all the mothers and grandmothers before them…for as long as we’ve known.” That answer didn’t seem to sit well with the hybrid, his hold on you tightening. “If you could have chosen…what would you have wanted your future to be?” The question was so innocent yet held so much meaning to you that tears slowly began to pool in your eyes. “I would have been a teacher.” You smiled bitterly, shaking your head. “But that doesn’t matter. Let’s get some sleep? I’m feeling very tired after today…”

Jeongin’s frown deepened, sensing that you were still holding back from him but he didn’t want to push any further and risk upsetting you more.

That night he held you a little closer, your head tucked under his chin as he gently rubbed between your shoulders as you entered a night of fitful sleep as memories from your past began to plague your mind for the first time since you had been brought to the cabin.

The next morning you woke up to find yourself alone, even though the sky was still dark outside behind the curtains hanging in front of the lone window in the room. “Jeongin?” You called out softly, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from your eyes before looking around. “He went out.” Came a voice near the door, startling you slightly as it was a voice you hadn’t heard before. “Oh-“ Chan was standing in the doorway, his sharp gaze fixed on you causing you to feel the need to squirm uncomfortably in your spot on the bed. “Um..okay- thank you for letting me know.” The wolf hybrid let out a little huff as a response, watching you carefully as you rose from the bed and headed towards him.

“Go join Minho in the kitchen. Breakfast needs to be ready soon.” His voice was so cold, causing you to tense the closer you got. Despite his words telling you to leave he still stood in the doorway blocking your path. “O-Okay…I’ll be sure to work quickly then-“ he nodded curtly, stepping out of the way hesitantly with eyes still glued to you as you walked past and into the kitchen. Gosh, he must think you’re so lazy and incompetent to come and get you himself like that. You felt a shiver run down your spine as you could feel his eyes still on your retreating form as you made your way to the kitchen. Why is he even allowing you to stay here if he seems to hate you so much? You shook the thoughts from your head, meeting Felix’s soft eyes and kind smile as you entered the kitchen. “Good morning, pretty! Minho-hyung is just with Ji getting some eggs from the chickens for breakfast. Would you like some tea while we wait?”

As you sat with the younger of the two cats as you both drank your tea, waiting for the older to return with Jisung in tow. While you waited you felt arms wrap around you from behind and you expected to see Jeongin’s face when you turned to greet the person those hands belonged to but instead you were met with a very sleepy ferret. “Oh- good morning Hyunjin.” You cooed, giving his head a few scratches causing him to squeak happily as Changbin came up behind him to lean against the counter between you and Felix. “Morning pretty- sorry for him. He wouldn’t get out of bed until he was sure you were up.” You giggled, shaking your head to the bunny as you took a sip from your mug. “It’s fine, I don’t mind the affection. It’s nice.” If Hyunjin had been a cat rather than a ferret he would have purred at your words, rubbing his cheek against your own causing you to laugh.

Your conversation with the three hybrids about how they had slept died off as Minho and Jisung came in with a basket of eggs and flushed faces from the cold. “Pretty! So nice to see you’re finally awake, I was beginning to worry you had forgotten you were helping this morning.” Oh, had you overslept without realizing? Guilt crept into your mind and the cat hybrid must have noticed because he walked over and gave a light flick to your forehead. “I’m teasing. You didn’t do anything wrong. I was just shocked Ayen didn’t wake you up before he left.” Left? You looked at him with confusion, pulling away from the cuddly Hyunjin who pouted only for a moment at the loss before turning to cling to Felix instead.

“Huh, left?” Minho nodded, getting out the rest of the supplies they would need for breakfast. “I sent him and Seungmin out extra early to go to your camp and collect your things. They’ve already made two trips now I think? This should be the last of it though…”

You blinked at him, still so confused as he pointed over to the door where you just happened to notice the crates from your makeshift camp stacked neatly on top of one another. “They- why did they bring my stuff here?”

The hybrids all looked at you confused, as if it was an obvious answer you were seeming to miss. Changbin spoke up, his tone posing his words as a question as if to say you should already be aware of the answer. “Because you are living with us now?” Your eyes fell on each of them as you took in the genuine looks on their faces. They were lying, they had to be. You got to stay here? Like- indefinitely?

You were so sure that when Minho had told you that you would be staying it would only be until winter was over and that you would be sent back on your own the second it began to warm up outside.

“Pretty, did you really think we weren’t going to let you stay?” Minho asked as he nudged your hip with his own, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “If not our little fox may run away to keep you company. Can’t have him doing that, now can we. Besides, then I’d lose my talented little helper.” You blushed at his words, choosing to turn away from him and wash your hands to begin preparing breakfast.

Breakfast time seemed to be a whole different ordeal than dinner time, with the hybrids coming and going quickly just grabbing a plate and scarfing it down before heading out to do their own chores.

At some point while you had still been cooking Jeongin and Seungmin had arrived with the last of your things, eating their own breakfast before heading back out on patrol. It seems the youngest’s punishment had been lifted and you felt a little sad knowing that you would see him less during the day, already having become accustomed to having him with you at almost all times.

Once everything from the meal was cleaned and put away you turned to Minho for further directions. “So- now what do we do?”

Minho raised an eyebrow at you, walking towards the staircase by Jeongin’s room. “What do you mean? We do whatever until it’s time for dinner. The kids can handle their own lunches whenever they finish their chores.” You frowned in confusion, looking around awkwardly. “Um- so there isn’t anything else to do?” The cat smirked, shrugging at he nodded to your pile of things by the door. “You could move those into Jeongin’s room and get settled if you’d like? He’s the only one besides Chan that doesn’t have a roomate so it’s between the two of them who you wanna bunk with…and I’m sure you would prefer to stay with our Ayen-ah.” The light teasing caused your cheeks to turn pink as you nodded and made your way over to start bringing your things to the room you were most familiar with.

The rest of the afternoon was spent alone in the fox hybrid’s room, carefully arranging your things as to not disturb his belongings. Once you were satisfied with the little set up you felt rather tired, having gotten up so early and working non-stop until so late in the afternoon. If you had to guess it was probably a quarter after three, still some time before you would have to join Minho in the kitchen to prepare dinner, you thought as you laid down on the bed and allowed yourself to doze off into a sleep much more peaceful than the one you’d had the night before.

Upon waking up you noticed the blanket that had been folded at the end of the bed frame was now draped over you where you had fallen asleep on top of the quilt rather than fully getting under the covers for your nap. Huh- it must have been Minho or Felix coming to check on you, you thought, smiling to yourself as you put your hand out to get up and felt something under your palm that startled you into pulling your hand back quickly and looking down to see what it had been.

There, lying neatly beside you was a single flower with vibrant purple petals that resembled the pattern of a daisy and a bright yellow center. You gasped lightly, being extremely careful as you picked it up to examine it closer with a soft smile on your face. You don’t think you had ever received flowers before in your life, the gesture warming your heart as you brought it closer to give it a sniff. It didn’t have much of a smell to it but its beauty was so simplistic and delicate you couldn’t stop staring.

Jeongin must have come back from his patrol early and left it for you, you concluded, carefully setting it on the dresser before heading out to meet Minho in the kitchen.

You seemed to miss the way Chan stood by the staircase, seemingly waiting for you to exit the room and notice him but you hadn’t, walking to your destination with your task in mind causing the wolf to sigh as a little pout reached his expression. He turned and headed back towards the back door, knowing he still had part of his patrol to finish though when he spotted the patch of wild asters in the field near his area of the forest he couldn’t wait to bring it back for you, hoping that this would make up from how shy he had been that morning clearly making you feel uneasy despite his attempt to finally speak with you.

As he shifted back into his wolf form after nearly folding his clothes and leaving them at the back porch, he took off in a sprint as he tried to forget how you seemed to never fully notice just how much he longed for your attention to fall on him softly as it seemed to even with Seungmin from the night before. What was he doing wrong? Why did you still only seem to fear him? He guessed he would just have to try harder for you to notice him.

author’s note; I am gonna be so honest idk how I feel about this chapter- but I read it over so many times and I couldn’t find a way to rework it how I’d like sooo- I hope all still enjoy ૮꒰ “ . . ꒱ა

Taglist; (pink users I wasn’t able to tag) @coastinglove @estella-novella @chancloud8 @skzswife @motheraiya55 @zofia515 @skybluelixie @breadedloafs @inaribu00 @silly250 @royal-shinigami @thatgirlangelb @bby-boo4u @emmxxsworld @vampkittenb82 @h0rnyp0t @alisonyus @im-sinking-in-mud @ihrtlix @mrs-hwangh @danixiulin @wolfo2027 @kiaralynn3838 @ateez-atiny380 @daceyena @bookswillfindyouaway @blackcatpandora @popcatx0 @corgilover20 @marshmelonie @sassy-snassy @straykidslover2024

[selfishdoll]

NOW PLAYING…. FANTASIZE

I know what you fantasize about

TAKUMA INO x SUCCUBUS! READER.

sum: ino, desperate to feel the touch of a woman, seeks out alternative options. which includes, summoning a demon into his house.

cw: ooc characters, modern au (no cursed techniques), lowkey loser ino (i love him), virgin!ino, switch (both of you), handjob, blowjob, cowgirl, praise, pussy-drunk ino, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, pet names (on both sides), demons, demon rituals, angst if you squint, porn no plot, chubby reader, gojo is a bit of a dick, etc.

it was so funny looking up rituals for summoning a succubus, i know the person watching my phone activity is concerned. also, does this count for kinktober? idk i’m new around here. but i got this idea while working so…:) hope you enjoy. unedited, please excuse typos & grammar mistakes.

Takuma Ino was having a bit of dilemma. It wasn’t anything serious like a sickness or losing his home, rather— it was actually quite silly.

He has never, in his twenty-one years of living, made love to a woman. Or anyone for that matter.

Now he’s been on dates before. Has flirted with woman, hell; even kissed a few. But, it never went farther then that. He wasn’t sure why, it ate him up inside that he didn’t have such experience like his seniors Gojo and Geto, even Nanami. And as much as he’d like to find the root of the problem, Ino refused to ask any of them for some perspective.

The thought alone made him want to curl into a ball and die.

But him being inexperienced wasn’t a secret, given Satoru teased him on it constantly. Much to the younger man’s dismay.

Things really took a turn one night, however, when Gojo said something a little off-putting.

At this point, you should just summon a succubus.

The statement was quickly overshadowed by Geto stating the white-haired male was being rude, along with Nanami agreeing. But in that moment, Takuma Ino wasn’t focused on Gojo’s lack of manners, rather; his mind swarmed with that idea.

Was it possible? Were such creatures real? Could he really summon one?

Ino was desperate. He felt something was lacking inside of him having no experience and all. So, just the thought of a solution like this.. well, it wouldn’t hurt to try, right?

Which brings him to tonight, the man seated crisscrossed on his bedroom floor; staring down at the pentagram and candles in the middle of the room. He had spent hours before searching the web for summons, deciding on a relatively easy one. Drawing the pentagram took much more time then he wanted it to, along with placing the candles down. It was currently dark out, the moon shining into his already lit bedroom.

Ino pursed his lips, a bout of anxiety developing in the pit of his stomach. What if, he messed it up somehow? The thought of dealing with something worse then a succubus scared him much more than never having sex. However, another thought plagued him..

What if it didn’t work? Was it really worth wasting time on some stupid comment Gojo made?

It took a moment for Ino to decide his next choice of action, leaning on his crossed legs as an exasperated sigh escaped him. Moments of silence passed before he rose up, a small fuck it, escaping him. Leaning against his bed, the man glanced at his phone, reading through the remaining steps quickly.

“Okay, blood.. then chant.” Ino gulped softly. Settling his phone back beside him, he reached for the pocket knife off to the side. Flipping it open, he placed the blade against his palm, squeezing the handle of the small weapon. His breathing got heavy for a moment, bottom lip caught between his teeth— glaring down at his hand. Quickly, Takuma slid the blade across his skin, a sharp hissing escaping him once the wound started to sting. He watched as scarlet red blood slowly bubbled from the cut, breath hitching as the sight.

Ino breathed, lifting his hand over the pentagram and rose petals in the middle; watching droplets of blood slowly fall from his hand, into the pile. His lips moved, softly chanting the spell he had found on the internet, dark eyes glaring at the ritual.

The chant escaped his mouth five more times before he stopped, resting their silently for a moment. Waiting for.. anything, really. A signal, a sign the ritual had worked. That his desperation wasn’t all for not..

That he hadn’t cut his palm for some odd fantasy.

Unfortunately, nothing happened. Nothing, except for the sting of his hand and the one of his dignity. He was such an idiot— taking Gojo’s word at face value instead of as a joke.

Takuma Ino, felt pathetic.

Silently, he pulled his hand back, ignoring the sting of it as he began to collected the dirtied petals. He moved to blow out the candles next, collecting them as well to throw away. Once that was completely he exited his bedroom to his bathroom, coming back with a wet rag shortly after to rub away the pentagram.

Still silent, still completely mad at himself.

That was about five hours ago, Takuma deciding to push the event to the back of his mind and sleep. He couldn’t dwell over his stupidity for too long, he had work in the morning.

Curled up under his blankets, the man slept soundly, face pressed into his pillow. The room was quiet, atmosphere soft, his legs, heavy… heavy. Why were his legs so heavy? The half-asleep man turned, pulling his blankets a bit, thinking it was simply that.

But, no. Ino quickly realized it wasn’t that. Sleep was slowly drifting away, annoyance traveling into his body. Did he accidentally place something on his bed? Did something fall? Such question entered his mind, blinking away sleep as he turned— shutting his bedside lamp on.

Takuma Ino blinked slowly, eyes peering down at.. something, someone. A woman. She was, pretty. Cloaked in warm mocha skin, a form figure will full hips and curves; pudge pushed against the blankets underneath her. Her hair was neat, styled in long braids that rested in curly ends just below her ass.

And from what Takuma could see, she was completely bare.

“Wh—what..” The man stuttered under his breath, slowly pulling his legs from under her body, backing to the headboard of his bed. Biting the inside of his cheek, he reached over, planting a hand onto her shoulder. “Hey.. uh— miss?” He spoke, watching her stir just a bit. To his horror she turned from laying on her stomach, Ino quickly tossing his blanket in her direction. “Miss— its time to wake up!” Ino spoke again, voice holding much more urgency then it did before.

You slowly stirred from your sleep, blinking and yawning softly. You tilted your head to spot Ino already staring at you, a look of shock and nervousness painting his features. You only smiled, turning once again to rise up on your hands. “Hi..”

Ino gulped the moment your voice hit his ears, range a sickeningly sweet tone, soft; traveling into his mind so easily. He bit his cheek, clenching his pants in his hands. “How did you..get in here? Are you lost?”

You blinked at him for a moment, coming to sit comfortably on the bed, nearly smiling at the way he refused to look at you. Or rather, your body. “I’m not lost.. you summoned me here, right?”

As the words left your mouth, his breath hitched; eyes widening in shock. The ritual, actually worked? He had really summoned one, a succubus? There was no way, this had to be a prank.

“You look human.”

“I look how you want me to look..” You spoke softly, leaning back, sliding your hands down your body. “Or rather, your type.” You grinned, watching a warm red spread across his cheeks. You leaned, crawling up to him until you were far too close for comfort; watching as he sunk into the headboard to gain some space. “But, would you like me to change? Is there something else you wish to see?”

Ino breathed heavily, eyes finally falling from your face and to your body; trained on your soft plump breasts, your thighs, your hips.. everything was just so, perfect. Change? Such a thought would never pass his mind.

His trance was interrupted the moment a pretty giggle escaped you, his entire body stilling the moment your hand rested upon his lower stomach. You pushed up until your mouth was against his ear, speaking lowly;

“Looks like your body answer the question for you..” He hissed softly as your hand breached his black tshirt, gliding your fingers along his vline. You were so close, yet so far from he really wanted you to touch him; his head leaning back as you continued to rub gentle circles into his skin.

“Please..”

“Hm?” You feigned innocence, pulling back to glance at his face. His eyebrows were pinched a little close, eyes closed as he gently bit his lips. The sight was very pretty, you had to admit. “You want me to touch you more?”

“Yes—“ Ino spoke far too quickly, raising his head to look at you. His cheeks were flushed with red, embarrassed out of his mind— but he didn’t care. Not one bit. “Please.. please touch me more.”

Your glossed lips curled into a small smile, leaning over so you two were only a breath’s away. “You’re so cute, Ino.” You spoke softly, closing the gap to capture his lips. Slowly, you two enjoyed the other’s mouth, pressing your body against his own. You felt his hand twitched with uncertainty, slowly lifting to gently grasp your waist. You smiled against his lips, gently biting them in response. The moment a soft gasp escaped him, your tongue intruded his mouth, while your hand.. reached into his pants.

His fingers gripped your bare skin as your own traced his shaft, feeling him slowly harden under your touch. You wrapped your hand around his cock, slowly pulling him out of his pants and boxers. The man groaned softly as your thumb traced his tip, feeling precum slowly drip from the slit. You pulled back, cooing at the sight of his strained face. How cute..

You leaned over, lips pressed against his neck as you began to drag your hand up and down his shaft, slowly, watching him twitch with each glide across his sensitive tip. You sucked a kiss into his skin, switching around to kiss against his throat; relishing at the gulp you felt under your lips. Your hand quickened around his cock; focusing around his tip, grinning at the way his hips rose up into your hand.

“So cute..” You murmured to yourself, watching him carefully. He felt so sensitive from your touch, gasping out; soft groans escaping him every so often. The hand on your hip was bruising by now, fingertips digging into your skin, holding on for leverage. He’s never felt anything like this; your hand completely differently from his own. You played like him as if you knew his own body more than he did, grazing across secret places he’s never known about.

“O—oh, fuck..”

“You’re close, handsome?” You questioned softly, eyelids lowered as you hand got even faster. The man was bucking up into your hand at this point, fucking it, chasing his release. One he reached easily, lips parted as a husky, prolonged moan escaped his throat. You hummed softly as his warm release coated your fingers, glancing down as your hand slowly came to a stop. You tilted your head with a little simper, traveling down the bed. “You made a mess of yourself, Ino.”

Your voice brought him down from his high, blinking tiredly over at you. To his horror, you were leaning down towards his cock; the man gasping the moment your lips brushed his tip. “F—fuck..” He whined softly, gripping the blanket under him, a stuttered groan escaping him as your tongue traveled up his shaft, collecting his cum. “‘M too sensitive, please—“

Ino’s own pornographic groan interrupted his words the moment you took him into his mouth, eyes rolling back at your warm cavern. He could only lay there, overstimulated whines escaping him as you took him deeper into your mouth, tongue gliding across his cock; allowing his tip to hit the back of your throat.

You bobbed up and down his length, eyes closed and focused on your breath. Your hands resting on his thighs, feeling the muscles shake and clench with each movement of your head. It didn’t take long for the poor man to come again, his voice much louder than before; painting your mouth and throat white. Your moaned around his cock, slowly sucking him dry, feeling his hand press against your shoulder— gasping from the sensitivity. You pulled back slowly, swallowing the rest of his release, eyes peering over at him.

You warmed as his hand traveled to your face, feeling his thumb gently wipe away your mouth. You leaned into his palm, “Did that feel good, Ino?” You questioned sweetly, watching the man nod rather quickly; still breathless. You gently kissed his palm — right above his wound —, slowly traveling up his body, settling on his torso. His hands found your ass, gently caressing the warm skin— clenching when you pressed against his chest lightly.

“You want more, don’t you?” You spoke softly, leaning closely. Your noses brushed, moving in as if to kiss him, only to back away the moment you saw his eyes fluttered. His hand clenched your ass, a small chuckle exiting you as a result. “Use your words..”

Ino breathed sure his cheeks and ears were terribly red. He never imagined his first time would go like this, but, he wasn’t complaining. He glanced into your eyes, “Please.. I—I want to feel you.” He spoke, watching as you moaned softly at his words. He felt accomplished the moment you rose your body, scooting down a bit to hover above his crotch.

Your hand collected his cock, breathing slowly as you lined it up with your entrance. Pressing your knees into the bed, you slowly lowered yourself on his length; feeling his hands grasp your thighs the moment they began to shake. You moaned as he stretched you, velvety walls clenching the deeper he went. Soon, you settled into his lap, pressing your hands against his stomach to still yourself.

“Ar—are you okay?” You glanced up to spot the tinge of worry in his eyes, your cheeks warming at this. You leaned over, kissing his chin.

“Of course.”

Digging your knees into his soft blankets, you rose yourself up until only his tip remained inside— dropping down in one swift motion. The action caused the both of you to moan, his hands clenching your skin; resting his head on his pillows. You hands pressed against his stomach, fucking yourself on his cock; pretty moans escaping your swollen lips.

Ino was holding you so tightly at this point, allowing you to do anything you wanted; trapped under the pleasure you were giving him. Your plush walls clenching him, your hot skin pressed against his own— it was all so much, but he loved every piece. Hazy eyes slowly focused on you, watching work yourself up and down his length, how erotic your expression was.

“Look.. fuck— You’re so pretty.” Ino gasped out, hands traveling to your waist, slowly meeting your thrusts. His hips circled, watching you clench his shirt, pretty babbles of his name escaping you. He wanted to see more of it, needed to. You were far too much, yet he craved it.

A surprised whine escaped you the moment he began to fuck up into you, his feet flat on his bed, holding you tightly on his cock so you could do nothing but take it. The sound of skin on skin contact entered the room, your jumbled noises of pleasure surrounding the space too. Your bodies moved against each other, desperate for release— for the other’s as well.

Repeated fucks escaped you, leaning over to wrap your arms around his neck as he rose his hips more; reaching even deeper inside your messy cunt. You held onto him tightly, eyes pinched close as your nails dug into his covered skin. “F—fuck, so close, so close— Ino!”

His breathing was ragged, face stuffed into your neck as he felt his hips began to stutter. “Me.. me too, fuck— can i come inside? Wanna.. fill you up, oh fuck!” Ino’s voice came out in harsh whimpers, thrusts turning desperate, slamming into you as his mind grew cloudy. In the midst he heard your soft pleas for his cum, your pretty whines enough for him— pushing him over the edge. Spilling into your, fucking his seed into you; stuffing you full.

You gasped, eyes rolling back as you came as well; wet walls clenching, milking him of all he’s worth. The two of you panted heavily, his hips slowly falling to the bed as his arms wrapped around your middle. Your fingers curled into his hair, eyes closed as you simply laid on him.

“… Are you leaving now?” His tone was soft, voice scratchy from its previous abuse. You smiled at his words, shaking your head. “I’ll stay as long as you want me to.”

To your surprise his arms wrapped tighter around your waist, pulling you flush against his body.

“Good.”

[kwanisms]

Kinktober 「10:08」 — txt choi line

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➮ kumiho!Beomgyu × fem!Reader (feat. kumiho!Yeonjun & kumiho! Soobin) wc: 8.3k summary: When Y/N’s best friends Yeonjun and Soobin dared her to explore an old mine shaft on the edge of town, she never expected to find anything but rock so when she stumbles across an extremely gorgeous man with bright orange glowing eyes, to say she was shocked was an understatement. genres/themes/au: angst/fluff/smut; supernatural, horror, thriller; non idol au, monster idol au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, mention of alcohol consumption, supernatural and horror themes, mentions of: parental death, thoughts of suicide and depression, mental illness struggles; sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! taglist has been moved to reblogs join my taglists! kinktober taglist is closed! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you.  MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.

a/n: we’re back baybee!!!! Sorry for skipping days 5-7 but they will be tacked on at the end, don’t worry! I don’t have much to say about this other than if you don’t like dubcon or CNC, do not read this. I’ve given you all the warnings so it’s up to you to monitor your content consumption. That being said, there’s not much else to say other than thank you for reading and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: teratophilia (aka monsterfucking), dacryphilia, CNC (if this makes you uncomfortable, DO NOT READ), unprotected sex (use condoms pls), fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), biting (f receiving), foursome (in a way. Just… you’ll see lol), use of pet names (doll, darling, sweetheart, etc.) that should be everything? Let me know if I missed some. kinks: Dacryphilia + CNC dialogue prompt: ❛❛ I love it when you cry. ❜❜ + ❛❛ What do you mean you’ve never cum from sex? ❜❜ + ❛❛ Your panties are soaked already. ❜❜

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“You are so full of shit,” you laughed, pushing Yeonjun's shoulder. The tall dark-haired man looked at you in shock before turning to the blond male next to him who seemed silly uninterested in the conversation at hand. 

“Soob,” he whined, sounding like a child tattling to his parents, despite being the older of the two. “She's being mean!” He glowered in your direction as Soobin, who had been twisting pieces of grass together with no goal in mind, sighed heavily. “You’re being annoying,” Soobin said softly, not even looking up.

“Will you please tell her it’s true though?!” Yeonjun said, nudging Soobin’s knee. The younger man looked down at his black pants, noticing a few specks of dirt on the material. “Yah,” he said in a low tone as he brushed them away. “Don’t touch me with your dirty feet.”

Yeonjun groaned, dramatically, throwing himself back on the grass and hitting his head with a dull thud which sounded like it hurt. Your suspicions were later confirmed when he let out a groan, lifting his head to rub the back of it. “Ow,” he murmured.

You rolled your eyes, looking at Soobin who exchanged looks with you.

You had learned pretty quickly that Yeonjun was often dramatic for effect and that Soobin didn’t fall victim to it which in turn made you not fall for his act. “What are you doing?” Yeonjun asked, looking at Soobin’s hands. The blond looked up at him with an uninterested look on his face.He glanced down at the blades of grass in his hands, twisted together like some early stage rope.

“Nothing,” Soobin said, tossing the grass in Yeonjun’s direction. The older man clicked his tongue as one of the blades fluttered through the air and landed on his leg. “Don’t put your grass on me,” he said in a gruff voice as he brushed it away. Soobin wordlessly reached out, grabbing a handful of grass and ripped it up from the ground before throwing it at Yeonjun.

It rained down on him like green confetti. “YAH!” Yeonjun said, sitting up quickly. You picked up a clump of dirt and flicked it at him. “Calm down,” you said in a monotonous voice. Yeonjun glared at you before settling back on his elbows. “He’s rubbing off on you too much,” he said, nodding pointedly at Soobin.

You had met the two a few years back. They were what the residents of your town called ‘drifters.’ They moved from town to town, never staying too long. Nomadic was another word you heard thrown around. Except for the fact that Yeonjun and Soobin had been living in your small mountain town for nearly three years now. 

They hadn’t been able to find an apartment since your town had one apartment building and land was too expensive so they lived in the only motel in the town, sharing one room with two beds. The motel was old, outdated, and didn’t see a lot of visitors. Only the occasional drifters.

The town itself was an old mining town and from the mid 1800’s to the beginning of the twentieth century, it was a prosperous town. But just after the start of the Great War, it fell onto hard times when all the able bodied men were pulled and made to serve. When they returned at the conclusion of the war, the town had been reduced to nothing more than a shell of its former self.

You were born and raised there. It was all you knew. You had been one of the fortunate ones to leave upon graduating high school and attending college in the next town over, gaining new experiences and meeting new people. Afterwards, you landed a job in the city and moved much further away from home.

After a couple years, you returned to your hometown when your mother got sick and your father was unable to work and take care of her. Thankfully, you were able to find work in the next town over which was only an hour commute in the morning and the evening. You moved back into your childhood home, updating your old bedroom.

Just before you met, Yeonjun and Soobin, your mother’s health had taken a turn for the worse and she ended up being hospitalized and passed away. You had every intention of moving back to the city and trying to get your old job back but you found yourself unable to leave your father like that.

It was just you and your father for a while and then one night when returning home from work, you found your father unconscious on the kitchen floor. Paramedics arrived and pronounced him dead at the scene. In less than two years, you lost both your parents.

You inherited the house but you spiraled into a deep depression. Your boss and co-workers were understanding, giving you time to grieve and even allowing you to work from home as your depression worsened. It was hard to even pull yourself out of bed and oftentimes, you thought about driving out to the old quarry and ending it all.

During one of these visits that you ultimately chickened out of, you found yourself at the twenty-four hour diner in town. You walked in, taking a seat at the bar and ordering a single mug of coffee. As you sat there, behind you, in the back corner booth sat two men who were clearly annoying one another but when you looked, you could tell they were quite possibly the best of friends.

You knew you’d never seen them before and when they noticed you noticing them, it was like a lightbulb went off and an instant connection was formed. They moved from the booth to take a seat on either side of you. One of them, Yeonjun, noticed how you looked like hell. The other, Soobin, told him to knock it off and asked you the most mundane of questions.

“Are you okay?”

His inquiry made you break down in the middle of the diner and it was then they forced you to sit at the booth with them and you poured your entire soul out onto the table over ice cream, pie, and coffee until at least four in the morning. That night, your life was forever changed by these two and the three of you became as thick as thieves… whatever that meant. You always heard people say that but never knew what it actually meant.

“Earth to Y/N,” Yeonjun’s voice broke through, knocking you out of whatever trance you had been in. You looked at him staring at you with a dumbfounded look. “What the hell is your problem?” he asked, hissing in pain when Soobin pinched his ankle. “Stop being such a dick,” Soobin said softly, brows furrowing as he glared at Yeonjun.

“Sorry,” you said softly. “I was just disassociating.” Yeonjun narrowed his eyes. “You’re not thinking about jumping into the old quarry again, are you?” he asked, earning a slap from Yeonjun. “What?!” Yeonjun yelped, holding his arm where Soobin’s hand had made contact.

You simply laughed, drawing their attention. Yeonjun looked alarmed but Soobin’s expression softened. “I’m fine, guys,” you said, waving your hand and dismissing their concern. “I was just staring off into the void.” Yeonjun snorted. “Did it stare back?” he asked. You shook your head.

“No,” you answered. “She was polite and didn’t make eye contact.”

Yeonjun nodded before clearing his throat. “Anyway,” he said loudly. “I was trying to tell you Soobin and I know it sounds ridiculous,” he added. “But there really is something that lives in the mines.” You glanced at the taller of the two who rolled his eyes. “Rats,” he said softly. “Rats live in the mines, Jjun,” he countered. Yeonjun glared at him. There was a look there, an understanding that happened in a split second that you didn’t seem to pick up on.

“Oh, you’re talking about that,” Soobin said suddenly, making you look up, snapping your attention to him. “What?” you asked, glancing between the two. “What is he talking about? What’s that?” you asked. Yeonjun smiled slowly, turning his attention to you. “Some say it’s a monster,” he said nonchalantly. “Others say it’s a man.” 

It was your turn to roll your eyes. “You’ve lived in this town for what? Three years?” you asked, raising a brow at him. “What would you know of our folklore?” Yeonjun pretended to look offended. “Your tiny town is famous all over the mountain,” Yeonjun said, pausing for dramatic effect. “And besides,” he continued. “Don’t you know all these mines connect to one another via the natural cave system?”

You perked up at that. “Wait,” you said softly, turning to look at Soobin. “Is that true?”

The blond man sighed, glaring at Yeonjun before turning to look at you. “Yes,” he said softly. “The mines are all connected, theoretically,” he said, emphasizing the last word and looking at Yeonjun as if to make a point. “No one has entered one mine and exited another from a different system.” You relaxed back into the grass. “That’d be pretty cool if they did,” you said softly.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you enjoyed the light breeze of early autumn. 

“Why don’t we check it out?” 

Your eyes snapped open and you lifted your head to look at Yeonjun. “Are you nuts?” you asked. “When did you become a spelunker?” Yeonjun snorted as he pulled himself up, crossing his legs as he sat on his backside. “I’ve always been interested in caves,” he pointed out. “And the mines.”

You sat up too, completing the trifecta of you sitting in the shape of a triangle, facing an invisible center between you. “What’s so interesting about the mines?” you asked. “They’re always a hotbed of activity,” Yeonjun replied. “People died down there,” he continued. “They’re probably, like, hella haunted.”

Yeonjun let out another yelp as he received a second slap from Soobin. “You’re right,” the younger male started. “People died down there.” Yeonjun rolled his eyes. “Not anyone we know,” he retorted. Soobin threw a look in your direction. You waved your hand. “My family were all white collar workers,” you said quickly. “My parents moved here when mom was pregnant with me. None of my relatives died down there.”

“Come on!” Yeonjun said excitedly. “Let’s explore it!” Soobin looked at you hesitantly. “I don’t know…” he trailed off. He looked extremely apprehensive. Like he was worried about you. “It’s fine,” you said, reaching out to take his hand. “I’ll be fine, Binnie,” you continued. “I’m a big girl. And besides. I wanna see the mines!” Soobin moved his hand, lacing his fingers with yours.

“You’re absolutely sure?” he asked. You nodded, smiling widely at him. “Yes,” you answered. “It sounds like a lot of fun!” Yeonjun smiled triumphantly, looking at Soobin with a smug look. “See?” he said softly. “I told you she’d be down!” You were almost bouncing where you sat on the hard ground, the sun setting behind and casting a golden glow over everything.

“Fine,” Soobin said, a soft wind picking up around the three of you, the leaves on the trees rustling slightly. The orangish glow hit both Soobin and Yeonjun and made them look almost… ethereal and you could have sworn you saw their eyes flash for the briefest moment to match the orangey- gold color of the setting sun.

“Let’s do it tomorrow.”

The next day, you packed some clothes, tight fitting and warm for the trip down into the caves. You might have to spend extra time down there and seeing as you’d never been, you didn’t know how big the system was. Yeonjun and Soobin said they would handle all the gear you needed and meet you at the old mine entrance.

As the sun was on the rise, you reached the meeting spot and found Yeonjun and Soobin waiting for you, each supporting a decent sized pack on their backs. “You weren’t kidding,” you said softly with a chuckle as you drew level. “You really went wild on the gear.”

Yeonjun shrugged. “I told you, I’m interested in caves. I’ve investigated a fair share of them.” You turned to Soobin for confirmation and when he nodded, you felt much more at ease. “What about you?” you asked, looking up at Soobin. “I’ve been in a few,” he answered. “Enough to know what to do.”

“We should get going,” Yeonjun said suddenly. “We don’t know how long this is going to take and the sun is rising.” You followed his gaze up to the sky that was slowly lightening up to a periwinkle as the sun slowly rose above the horizon. It hadn’t yet broken over the mountains but it was getting there.

“Lead the way,” you said, glancing between the two, wondering who was going to take the lead and not surprised in the slightest when Yeonjun turned and headed for the entrance. You followed, with Soobin in tow and bringing up the rear. 

The entrance was mostly unobstructed with only a few planks of wood in place. It was very dark beyond where the low level of light could reach. Yeonjun reached into a hip pouch, producing two flashlights. He handed one to you and clicked his on, shining the light into the void.

“It looks pretty clear,” he said as he moved around the light. For such a small flashlight, it was certainly powerful. “Come on,” he added, starting into the mouth of the mine. It wasn’t as large or as grand as you were picturing and upon entering, it immediately started to dip down a mild incline.

The walk down was long, rocky, and for the most part, relatively easy to hike. Yeonjun stayed in the front and Soobin in the back, making sure to keep you in the middle. It made you feel much safer. The ground started to even out after a while and soon you reached a junction. It dawned on you that none of you had been down here and you were suddenly worried about getting lost.

“Wait,” you said as Yeonjun started for the left fork. “What if we lose our way?” you asked. Yeonjun glanced at Soobin. “She has a point,” Soobin agreed. “We should at the very least mark our path so we can follow it out.” Yeonjun nodded and looked around. “Oh,” he said. “This should work.”

You watched as he knelt down, removing his pack and unzipping one of the pockets, starting to sift through it. He pulled out what looked suspiciously like a chisel which was confirmed by the next words out of Soobin’s mouth. “Why the fuck do you have a chisel?”

Yeonjun’s smile fell and he frowned at the taller man. “Shut the fuck up,” he snapped back, zipping his pack back up and getting to his feet, pulling the bag back on. “If you’ve got something better, I’m all ears,” he added as he walked towards the entrance of the leftmost cave.

You glanced back at Soobin who shook his head with an exasperated sigh and then nodded, gesturing for you to follow. You started forward, shining your light around. As the beam passed over the entrance to the right, you could have sworn you saw something glowing, almost like a pair of eyes.

You stopped abruptly, staring wide-eyed at the tunnel, shining your light back over the entrance. Soobin ran into you from behind and made you drop your light. “Oh shit,” he grumbled, quickly bending down to snatch it from the dirt and hand it to you. “Why’d you stop?” he asked softly.

You glanced up at him. “I thought I saw something,” you said, returning your gaze to the right cave. Soobin followed your gaze. “It was probably your eyes,” he said softly. “The dark likes to play tricks on you.” You felt his hand take yours and he started forward. “Come on,” he urged gently.

“We’ll lose Yeonjun if we don’t keep up.”

The rest of the way into the mines, Soobin held you hand and while it did make you feel better, you couldn’t shake the feeling you were being watched. As you descended further and further, you started to see more and more signs that something had indeed made the caves its home.

Carcasses of various small prey animals were scattered about, mostly just bone left behind. You reached a large chamber where the ceiling was full of stalactites and bats roosted in between them, clinging to the rock as they rested. 

“Oh wow,” you said softly as you heard the sound of water and shined your light into the far end of the chamber to find a small pool and a waterfall. It wasn’t a particularly large or powerful cascade but it meant that it led from somewhere.

You rested briefly with the guys, munching on fruit snacks and protein bars. Once you were ready to go, you started for the only exit you could see. You stopped by the water, kneeling down to dip your fingers into it. “It’s freezing!” you said, your voice laced with excitement. Soobin smiled as he watched you while Yeonjun inspected the exit.

“Come on,” he said softly. “It’s this way.”

You glanced up, finding his choice of words a little odd. “It’s?” you asked as Soobin held a hand out for you to take. You accepted, placing your hand in his and letting him pull you to your feet. “Poor choice of words,” he said simply. “He probably meant the other mine,” he added. You nodded and allowed Soobin to walk forward. Before you could take another step, you heard the sound of scraping and froze.

You quickly turned your head away from where Soobin was heading for the large opening and shined your flashlight around the chamber. You couldn’t see anything but you heard another scraping sound and instead of ignoring it and following your friends, you turned and started back into the chamber. 

Besides the stalactites and stalagmites forming, there were also a good amount of stalagnates and other rock formations in the cave. You walked slowly, carefully shining your light around as you investigated the source of the noise. You reached an empty wall and sighed. ‘Nothing.’

You turned back around and let out a gasp. Before you stood a man you’d never seen before.

You looked over him, expecting him to be injured in some way but he looked unharmed. He was tall, maybe about as tall as Yeonjun. He had short black hair similar to Yeonjun’s but styled slightly different. His eyes were a goldish orange and seemed to almost glow in the darkness of the cave.

“Uh,” you said softly, looking around him nervously to see if Soobin was still standing at the exit of the chamber where Yeonjun disappeared earlier. “Hi,” you greeted the man. He simply tilted his head, staring at you with a look of curiosity. “Who are you?” the man asked in a surprisingly clear voice.

His question left you baffled. Instead of asking for help or anything one might expect of encountering a stranger in a cave system, he asked you a question as if you’d just intruded into his home. 

Yeonjun’s words came to mind. ‘Others say it’s a man.’ 

You stared at the man before you with the glowing golden-orange eyes. “Who are you?” you countered, catching him by surprise but it only lasted for a moment before a smile settled onto his face. Not an unsettling one but certainly not one you were expecting to see.

“I’m Beomgyu,” he said simply. “I’m a kumiho.”

Your eyes widened in shock as you stared at him. ‘He was right,’ you thought. “Holy shit,” you breathed. Yeonjun was right. A creature did live in these caves and it was right in front of you while your friends were nowhere to be seen. ‘Fuck.’ 

“Are you all alone down here?” he asked, drawing you from your thoughts. ‘Wh-what?’ You stared in shock at him for a moment before answering. “N-no,” you lied. His smile slowly dropped. “Now,” he said softly before tsking. “Don’t lie to me.” You felt a chill up your spine as he spoke, taking a step closer.

“Okay!” you said, backing up. “I’m not alone! My friends are here. They went that way —” you started but he cut you off. “Went off and left you all alone?” he asked. “Left you all defenseless,” he added, taking another step forward.” Poor little bird.” 

Each step was punctuated with a step until he had you backed against the wall of the cave and caged in between his arms. “Some friends they are,” he whispered, leaning in to whisper in your ear. “Left you all alone down here with a monster.”

Goosebumps erupted over your skin as you felt one of his hands slide down your arm to your waist.

“And what an absolutely delicious morsel you are.”

You let out a whimper, holding back tears but Beomgyu simply chuckled and backed away slightly. “I’m only teasing,” he said softly, reaching up to caressing your cheek before taking your chin in between his thumb and index finger. “I’m not going to eat you,” he started. “Yet,” he added with a wink.

“I’m inclined to let you go in fact,” he continued. Your heart jumped at the mention of being set free. “But you first must do something for me.” The small glimmer of hope faded away quickly as you stared at Beomgyu. “You must play a game of riddles with me.”

Your eyes looked around the cave before settling back on him. “Riddles?” you asked incredulously. He nodded. “Yes. Riddles. If you get three out of five riddles correct, I will let you go but if you get three out of five wrong…” he trailed off, licking his lips as his golden-orange eyes scanned over your frame.

Your cheeks burned and you awkwardly shuffled your feet, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Okay,” you replied meekly. “It’s not like I have much of a choice anyway.” Beomgyu smiled, showing his pointed canines. Much sharper than was considered normal for a human.

“No,” he answered. “You don’t.”

You straightened up, crossing your arms over your chest. “Well,” you said softly. “Get on with it.”

Beomgyu’s eyes narrowed but instead of remarking, he cleared his throat to deliver the first of five riddles.

“I am the beginning of the end,  and the end of time and space.  I am essential to creation,  and I surround every place.  What am I?”

You stared at him as his words sank in. ‘The beginning of the end, and the end of time and space.’

“Beginning of the end,” you whispered to yourself as you mulled over the words again. “Take your time,” Beomgyu said softly. “We have all day and night.” You glanced at him as you continued to think.

“Essential to creation and surround every place?”

“Beginning of the end, and the end of time and space…”

“Oh!” you said suddenly, snapping your fingers. “The letter e!”

Beomgyu’s smile returned and he nodded. “Good,” he answered. “Here’s your second riddle,” he said, moving to lean against one of the stalagnates, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Ripped from my mother’s womb, Beaten and burned, I become a bloodthirsty killer. What am I?”

You stared at him in mild horror. “Ripped from my mother’s womb?” you asked incredulously. He nodded, smiling at you as you started to look around, turning the words around in your head. ‘Bloodthirsty killer?’ you wondered. The gears were turning in your head but you were coming up blank.

After a few minutes of silence, you finally relented, hoping the other three riddles wouldn’t be this hard.

“I…” you cleared your throat. “I don’t know.”

Beomgyu’s smile turned into a smirk. “I was hoping you might get it, considering our location,” he said with a tone of mocking sympathy. “The answer is iron ore.” You stared at him, suddenly feeling very foolish. You were standing in a mine and you missed the riddle about mines.

“That’s one to one,” Beomgyu said. “You have three chances left.” You nodded and motioned for him to give you the next one.

“Lighter than what I am made of, More of me is hidden Than is seen. What am I?”

The answer came to mind immediately.

“An iceberg,” you fired back. Beomgyu’s brow furrowed. “Have you heard that one before?” he asked. You shook your head. “No,” you answered truthfully. “I’m just obsessed with the sinking of the Titanic,” you continued. “I know Icebergs are much larger under the water than above it.”

Beomgyu studied your face for a moment before relenting. “Fine,” he said. “Two to one. Next riddle.”

He gave you another which you got wrong making it two to two. You’d lost track of time and it felt like hours since you last saw Soobin or Yeonjun. Beomgyu was now standing right in front of you, leaning against the wall as he caged your body in, your back pressed against the rock. “What happens if I lose?” you asked softly. His eyes traveled down your body back back up.

“I get to keep you.”

‘Keep me?’ you wondered silently. “What does that mean?” His smile grew slightly. “It means you stay down here for me for as long as I want.” You swallowed the lump in your throat as he got even closer, lips inches from your ear. “Ready?” he whispered. You nodded wordlessly, silently praying to whatever that he would give you one you could figure out.

“I build up castles. I tear down mountains. I make some men blind, I help others to see. What am I?”

Your heart sank as you slowly realized this one was going to be hard to solve and your assumption was proven right as you spent an embarrassing amount of time trying to figure it out.

“Do you give up?” Beomgyu asked, tilting his head. He’d been more than generous, allowing you two guesses but you were on your third and you were coming up blank. You didn’t want to stay down here in the caves with him for however long he decided. It could be days, it could be years, it could be forever. Surely, your friends would come looking for you, right?

They wouldn’t leave you here, right?

You hung your head in defeat, the sound of Beomgyu’s chuckles sending yet another chill up your spine. “Poor little bird,” he cooed, placing a finger under your chin and lifting your head. “Bound to spend eternity here in the caves with me.”

Your eyes widened. “E-eternity?!” you gasped. Beomgyu chuckled, grabbing your wrist. “As long as I want, remember princess?” he asked. “You’re stuck with me now.”

He pulled you along the cave, stopping at the pool of water. He turned to you, grabbing the straps of your bag and pushing them off you. “Leave that here,” he said softly. “You won’t need it.”

You tried to protest but Beomgyu grabbed your hand, surprisingly delicately and stepped back into the pool onto a rock jutting out from the side of the pool. “Come,” he said in a commanding tone. You hesitated for only a moment before your body reacted, following him into the pool. The water was freezing. Bumps erupted across your skin, your nipples hardening in your bra as the chill of the water set into your body.

Beomgyu pulled you to the edge of the rock and stood behind you. “Deep breath in,” he said softly into your ear, hands moving to your arms, just under your shoulders. You inhaled slowly as you stared at the water, trying not to panic. “I hope you can swim.”

Beomgyu pushed you off the rock into the water. Your body splashed loudly and immediately, you kicked towards the surface, sputtering as you surfaced. You shook the water from your face and looked around the dark cave, illuminated by the flashlight you left by your pack.

You saw no sign of Beomgyu. You started to swim back to the side and almost reached the edge when you felt something grab your ankle and drag you down. You kicked and fought against the entity but soon lost the battle, losing consciousness in the process.

When you came to, you were laying on something soft. Your eyes slowly blinked open, light invading your senses as you tried to wake up. Your limbs were heavy and it was hard to move. Your eyes took a long time to focus but finally, they did.

You looked around, taking in your surroundings. 

You seemed to be laying on a bed of what looked like furs. There were various colors but they were all extremely soft. You thought back to the scattered animal bones that you saw in the cave and now you knew who the culprit was. As you tried to sit up, you realized your clothes had been removed and you were covered with a brown blanket. You brought your arm up, holding the blanket against your chest.

“What the?” you whispered as you looked around further. You raised your eyes and noticed a massive hole in the ceiling of the cave you were in. Light was filtering in, bathing you in a bright glow. Your ears picked up a scraping sound and you looked down, eyes trying to see beyond the sunlit area but it was no use. You couldn’t pick up anything.

“I see you’re awake,” a voice said softly from beside you. Turning your head, you tried to see past the circle of light, squinting but you were still unable to make anything out. Another scraping sound rang out from the other side and your head snapped in that direction. 

“Did you take my clothes off?” you called, raising a hand to shield your eyes.

“Your clothes were wet,” he said simply. “I am sorry about that by the way.” You squinted in the direction of the voice. “The only way to get here is through the waterfall,” he continued. “And that water is quite cold.” You listened carefully, hearing soft footsteps making their way towards you. 

“I did, however, bring your pack,” he stated. “There were some clean undergarments in there and I put those on you.”

Finally, a figure emerged from beyond the edge of the light. It was Beomgyu. He stopped at the edge of the pile of furs. “Is this your home?” you asked, looking up at him as you made sure your body was covered. He nodded, hands tucked into the pockets of his clothes. Before you hadn’t noticed but he was wearing a simple tunic and a pair of dark pants. He wore no shoes.

“Did you… do anything to me?” you asked softly. Beomgyu chuckled, shaking his head. “Not yet,” he said, removing his hands from his pockets. He slowly knelt onto the pile of furs, crawling towards you at a tortoise’s pace. You leaned back, holding the blanket up to your chest with both hands now. He slowly leaned over you, forcing you to lay back against the bed.

“Would you like me to?” he asked quietly, one of his hands taking your chin, the pad of his thumb pressing against your bottom lip and pulling down slightly. “I could do anything you want me to,” he said softly. “Be anyone you want me to be.” You watched in shock as his form shifted effortlessly into the familiar face of one of your friends.

“Come on,” he whined in Yeonjun’s voice, your friend’s dark brown eyes looking back at you. “It’ll be fun!” You shook your head, trying to push him off you. “Or perhaps someone else?” he asked and again his form shifted into that of your other friend. “Yeah,” he said in the low, collected tone of Soobin.

“You seemed awfully close to this one.”

“Stop it!” you shrieked, shutting your eyes and turning your head away. “Hey,” he said, his voice back to normal. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to make you more comfortable.” You opened your eyes slowly, Beomgyu’s face coming back into view. “I could be anything you want. Fulfill any fantasy or desire of yours,” he added, cupping your cheek.

“All you have to do is say yes.”

You stared up at him, skin heating up under his gaze as the weight of his body settled on top of you. He lowered himself, pressing against your core through the blanket. “I could also just take you right now,” he added, rolling his hips slightly. “It’s more fun if you fight.”

You blinked up at him, processing his words. “What if I… pretend?” you asked in a soft voice. He tilted his head. “Pretend? Pretend what?” he asked, sounding every bit curious. “What if I pretend to fight you? If it’s more fun. Wouldn’t it be better if I gave you my consent?”

Beomgyu’s brow furrowed in confusion. “I don’t think I understand,” he started. “Are you saying you’ll give yourself to me but that you’ll fight me?” You nodded. “In a way. I’m consenting to sex but if you want me to struggle, I can pretend.” A smile slowly grew across his face. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of such a thing before.”

“I’ll give myself to you and pretend to struggle and fight against it but only if you promise me something,” you said as his hand started to wander. “And what’s that?” he asked, lips brushing against yours as he leaned in. “That you’ll stop if I really ask you to.” He frowned slightly but quickly his expression went neutral. “Fine,” he started. “But how will I know when to stop?” he asked, tilting his head.

You wracked your brain for a safeword. “Pumpkin pie,” you said suddenly. Beomgyu gave you a perplexed look. “If I say pumpkin pie, you need to stop, okay?” His golden eyes studied your face for a moment before he nodded. “Fine. I accept your terms,” he said, 

“Now,” he said softly as he laid his weight on top of you, his hips slotting between your thighs.

“Tell me about your fantasies. What do you want? Do you want me to stay like this? Or shall I change into one of your friends?” he asked with a smirk. You shook your head wordlessly. “Just like this is fine,” you said. “Good,” he said softly. “But I can’t promise I won’t shift a little while we’re in the midst of it.”

You were about to protest when he leaned in, capturing your lips in a heated but cautious kiss. He was testing the waters, lips moving against yours as one of his hands continued to roam, exploring your body over the blanket. “You’re supposed to fight me,” he murmured against your lips, hand slipping under the blanket and darting between your legs.

“S-sorry,” you stammered as his fingers pressed the fabric of your underwear into your sex, chuckling as he felt how wet you were growing. “Your panties are soaked already,” he murmured, amused at how easy you seemed to get aroused. You let out a whimper as he slipped his hand dipped past the waistband of your panties, feeling between your folds.

“So wet and ready for me,” he purred. “You’re supposed to be struggling against me, love.”

You mentally cursed again. It just felt so good having his fingers working against your clit. “S-sorry,” you murmured again. You tried to push him off you but he was clearly much stronger. He moved his arm, pressing his forearm against your collar across your chest and holding you down.

“Keep struggling,” he said, a glint in his eye. You tried to throw your weight into it. “S-stop,” you said softly. “Oh I think you can do better than that,” Beomgyu said, fingers halting. “Go on now, do it properly.” You stared up at him as his fingers started to move again, inching down towards your entrance. “S-stop! Get off me!” you nearly shouted.

Your voice echoed around the cave, the smile on Beomgyu’s face spreading. “That’s it,” he murmured. “Keep fighting me.” You grabbed at his shirt trying to push or pull him off you to no avail. The more you struggled and found more confidence the more excited he seemed to get.

Finally you threw everything into it, managing to flip him onto his side. You quickly tried to get up but he was quicker, grabbing you by the ankle and pulling you back, dragging you back onto the bed. You fought against his hold, trying to slap his hands away as he grabbed you and turned you over onto your stomach. 

You hadn’t used your safeword and if truth be told, you were enjoying this. You kicked and struggled, trying to throw him off you until he managed to climb over you, pinning you legs down between his thighs, grabbing and pinning your wrists down next to your head.

“Oh, I’m going to have fun with you,” he said, his voice full of excitement. You tried to struggle against him, screaming at him to get off you. He leaned over, lips near your ear. “If you want me to stop, you know what to say. Are you going to use that word?” You shook your head. “No,” you whispered.

Beomgyu chuckled darkly, pushing himself back up. “Good,” he said as he pulled your arms, moving them behind your back and scooting back so he could grab your panties. “I’m sure you have more of these,” he said softly, running his fingertips over the lace.

You heard the fabric pull against you, biting into your skin as he ripped them off you, discarding them somewhere. Your bra followed, being ripped in the same fashion and discarded quickly. Beomgyu held your wrists with one hand as the other moved down, sliding over your backside.

His fingers dug into the flesh of your ass. “So beautiful,” he murmured, his voice taking on a different tone. You turned your head, seeing out of the corner of your eye, he’d changed his appearance to that of Yeonjun. “I said stop doing that!” you said quickly. Yeonjun’s face looked up at you, a devilish grin spreading over his face.

“Are you using your safeword?” he asked, tilting his head. Your heart skipped a beat. “N-no,” you whispered, letting out a moan as his hand dipped between your thighs. “That’s what I thought. The appearances weren’t part of the deal, doll,” he continued. “If you want me to stop, you’re going to have to use your safeword, otherwise…” he trailed off, fingers finding your slit and sinking into your cunt.

He let out a sigh as your warm walls welcomed his fingers. “I can’t wait to feel you wrapped around my cock,” he murmured, still in Yeonjun’s voice. It was uncanny but your walls clenched around his fingers and he chuckled. “Do you often think about fucking your friends?” he asked.

You were rendered speechless as he curled his fingers slowly, starting to pump in and out of you. “I’ll bet you do. Two tall handsome guys like that? I bet they would jump at the chance to have even a taste of you. Don’t you think so?” 

You moaned in response, burying your face into the furs. “I’d really like a taste of this,” he said softly as he pulled his fingers out of you. “Will you be good long enough for me to get a taste of this pretty little cunt you have?” You moaned, nodding again as he squeezed your ass, kneading gently.

“On your back then,” he murmured. You did as he asked, rolling onto your back. He used the lapse in attention on you to remove his own clothes but he was down on his stomach, grabbing your hips and pulling you closer to his face. His tongue peeked out to wet his lips before he glanced up at you.

“No fighting me,” he warned. You nodded silently. “I promise,” you breathed out. He smiled, giving you a wink. “Good girl,” he said before dipping his head, tongue pressing between your lips to find your clit. The moment he got a taste, he let out the most erotic groan you’d ever heard and it was like a feeding frenzy had started. 

His tongue moved expertly, dragging over your clit in slow strokes, alternating between soft and hard, flicking the nub with the tip of his tongue and gently sucking. Your hands flew to his dark hair, fingers locking in the tresses. It was surreal to have him between your thighs, looking identical to one of your best friends but you’d be a liar if you said you hadn’t thought about this at least once.

Yeonjun was an extremely good-looking guy and you trusted him. He may be annoying at times but he was smart, funny, kind, and more importantly, loyal. Anyone would want someone like that. His confidence was extremely attractive and he exuded it.

“F-fuck,” you gasped, thighs trembling as your orgasm neared. The kumiho, back in the form of Beomgyu, noticed and pulled away. “No!” you cried out as you were robbed of your climax. “So eager to cum already?” Beomgyu chuckled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “It’s the only way I can…” you trailed off, realizing you’d said too much.

You felt Beomgyu kiss his way up your stomach and chest, skipping over your breast until he reached your neck. You tilted your head away, allowing him more access. His tongue ran over your pulsepoint and you let out a cry as he sank his teeth into your skin.

“It’s the only way you can what?” he whispered into your ear. “Nothing,” you answered quickly. Beomgyu clicked his tongue in disapproval. “Come on now, darling,” he cooed. “You can tell me.” Yeonjun’s voice was back and when you opened your eyes, you were looking into his brown ones. “It’s me, you can tell me anything, right?”

You let out a squeak as his fingers slipped back inside you, pumping steadily. It was enough to keep you on the edge but not enough to give you release. “It’s the only way I can cum!” you blurted out in the deceivingly comforting brown eyes of the kumiho masquerading as your best friend.

“What do you mean?” he asked, tilting his head, looking every bit a curious puppy. “I’ve never…” you trailed off and he seemed to pick up what you were hinting at. “No,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. “Never?” he asked. You nodded, feeling quite embarrassed about what you were admitting to. The fox spirit stared at you in shock.

“What do you mean you’ve never come from sex?!” he asked incredulously. You tried to cover your face but he grabbed your wrists. “What loser have you been fucking?” You whined in shame, face heating up as you tried to pull your wrists free. “Oh no,” he said. “We’re not having that.”

He turned you onto your stomach. “I’m gonna make you cum,” he said as he grabbed your wrists, pinning your arms behind your back. It was then you realized you were supposed to be struggling against him. You tried to pull but he merely pressed you down into the furs.

“Change of plans, sweetheart,” he said as he nudged your thighs apart. “You don’t need to fight me. I’m going to make you cum on this cock until you can’t take it anymore,” he continued, holding your wrists with one hand as he guided the head of his cock to your hole. You felt him rub the tip through your folds, gathering your wetness before he slowly pushed into you.

You let out a groan as he sank his cock in, your warm walls squeezing and inviting him deeper, sucking him in further. You moaned loudly as his hips snapped forward against your ass, sheathing himself in one motion. It was sudden and harsh and sent a stinging sensation through your cunt as it stretched around him. “Oh, you’re so warm,” he groaned.

His voice had changed again.

You glanced over your shoulder finding the familiar face of Soobin, chocolate brown eyes staring back at you and his blond hair a mess. You clenched hard around the cock currently lodged in your pussy, making the kumiho groan as well. “You seem more receptive to this one,” he murmured, pulling back slightly. He thrust into you, making you gasp.

“Much more receptive,” he continued. He released your wrists and instead wrapped an arm around your chest as he pressed his weight on top of you. He started a steady but fast pace with his thrusts, the wet sound of his cock pumping in and out of you filling the cave and echoing over the sounds of your moans and panting.

“Squeezing so tight,” he murmured in your ear, sending chills down your spine. His hold tightened as he pulled your back against his chest. “M’gonna fuck you so full,” he growled in your ear. You whimpered, corners of your eyes burning. The pleasure was so overwhelming, moving you to the brink of tears. A small sob escaped you and the fox spirit halted his movement.

“Are you crying?” he asked, sounding amused. “Does it feel that good?” he asked. You nodded, choking back sobs, tears starting to fall onto your cheeks. “Fuck,” he groaned, cock twitching inside you. He quickly pulled out, turning you onto your back before sliding back into you. Your tears didn’t stop when he started fucking you harder in this position, grunting with the effort it took to deliver each powerful thrust.

You let out a cry of pleasure, more tears spilling from your eyes.

“Fuck,” he growled. Soobin’s voice sounded so different. So animalistic. You’d never heard him sound like that before and it made you want to know what he really sounded like in the midst of passion. Not that you would probably ever learn. You’d have to settle for what the kumiho would give you. It was a likeness to be sure and the closest you’d ever get.

“God, I love it when you cry,” he groaned, pounding into you. Each thrust had a strained sob mixed with a moan falling from your lips, more tears flowing freely. “Fuck, I could cum just from watching you cry.” You let out a moan, cunt spasming around his cock as your orgasm hurtled towards you.

You felt him snake a hand between your bodies, thumb finding your clit and rubbing it in time with his thrusts, driving you over the edge. Your walls clamped down on his cock as you came, a loud moan escaping you as your back arched off the bed.

“Fuck, yes, that’s it sweetheart, come for me,” Soobin’s voice said in a deep, strained tone. “Gonna make me cum.” His hips stuttered as he let out a low moan into your ear, he thrust into you a few more times before he finally came, his thick load spilling into you and painting your walls. “Fuuuuuck,” he groaned, burying his cock into your used cunt and stilling there as he tried to catch his breath.

You passed out quickly and when you woke, you were wrapped up in the same brown blanket the furs under you were warm and soft. The sun had set, replaced with the moon instead which casted a silvery glow over the bed. You blinked the sleep away and started to sit up. Beside you was Beomgyu, fast asleep. 

You heard voices whispering and looked out to see the cave wasn’t much bigger than the area where you lay. There was a small slit in the rocks that extended up about ten feet and beyond it you could hear rushing water. To the left, you noticed a fire and two figures. Your eyes widened as you realized they were the forms of your two friends.

“Y-Yeonjun?!” you called out. “Soobin?!!” They heard you and lifted their heads, turning to look in your direction. You let out a gasp as you met their gazes and saw staring back at you two two sets of golden-orange eyes.

‘No,’ you thought.

“Didn’t you find it odd that I knew their forms so well?” Beomgyu whispered from beside you, nuzzling into your neck. “That I knew every single detail and their voices so well?” Suddenly everything made so much sense. The subtle clues were there all along as far back as you could remember since meeting Yeonjun and Soobin.

“We weren’t even supposed to stay this long,” he said softly. “But they kept saying how enticing you were. So sweet, so kind, so pretty,” he continued, pressing kisses against your skin. “I just had to see for myself,” he added. You glanced at him, taking your eyes off Yeonjun and Soobin.

“And now that you’re here,” he added, reaching up to cup the side of your neck. “You’re not leaving.”

Your heart skipped a beat as his golden-orange eyes burned into yours. “And neither are we,” a voice said softly in your ear. You turned your head, locking eyes with Soobin. “He told us how much you seemed to enjoy it,” Yeonjun said from behind you, trailing his fingers up your spine.

“Especially when he shifted to look like Soobin.”

You felt a strong hand grab your chin gently but firmly and turn your head. You met Soobin’s gaze. “If you wanted me so bad, you should have just said so, sweetheart,” he said in a deep voice. “I would have gladly let you in my bed.”

He leaned in, lips brushing against yours. “You got a preview,” he murmured, breath hot against your face. 

“Now how about the real thing?”

©️ kwanisms 2024 | all works on this blog are protected under copyright. Do not repost, continue, or translate my works. All graphics made by me.

[heathsuii]

Senior Year

「 Suna Rintaro x Reader 」

₊˚ෆ synopsis. you reflect on how quickly autumn had arrived, mirroring the swift changes in your own life as you enter senior year of high school.

cw. fem reader, fluff, slight angst, highschool!au, seatmate!suna, best friends to lovers, mutual pining, reader is emotional, not proofread !

words. 975

a/n. happy belated four years to this blog! the urge to write caught up to me. i'm thinking of actually making a masterlist for this. let me know your thoughts and i hope y'all have a great day <333

autumn air and hues of orange leaves work alongside to guide the new season. fall had snuck in like a shadow at sundown, and while you hadn't noticed it until now, everything seemed to have change over night.

yesterday, the trees were still holding on to their green, hesitant to let go. today, there were amber streaks, and the wind carried a definite feel that you hadn't felt in months. it seemed to be moving too quickly.

it felt like it was just yesterday when he made the decision to sit next to you. becoming one of many interactions you'll share. you let out a quiet sigh, thinking back to those days that felt like they would last forever. alas, life never seemed to work that way. now, here you are—senior year. the last one. the year you had been waiting for, yet now that it was here, you weren't sure where the time had gone.

you're sitting on a bench outside the inarizaki school gymnasium. waiting for a certain someone to finish volleyball practice. this was your routine for who knows how long almost three years.

what started out as a punishment for losing to a game of rock, paper, scissors gradually turned into a habit of waiting just to walk home together. life was silly that way.

"our streak is not streaking anymore."

a familiar voice entered your mind. you then remembered hearing his voice for the first time, back in freshman year, where everything felt new and exciting, with years ahead of you. presently, there was a bittersweet edge to it. each golden leaf that fell to the ground seemed to whisper that things were changing, and not just the seasons. college applications, farewells, the uncertainty of what would come next. it all hung in the cool autumn air.

"is this subtle foreshadowing? don't tell me.. you streak with someone else..."

your heart ached. not from what he said, but because this would be the last year you'd spend together like this, walking the same halls, sharing late-night study sessions, the same jokes. after graduation, your paths would diverge. it's inevitable, really.

suna brushed away a strand of hair stuck on your forehead. successfully snapping you out of your thoughts. successfully making the butterflies in your stomach flutter.

he took out a 500 yen coin from his pocket, and held it infront of you. "a penny for your thoughts?"

wanting to rid of the worry, you sighed. "it's nothing, i just started dwelling over the fact that we'll be graduating."

"if you're scared of graduating you could be a repeater." suna answers, trying to lighten the mood.

you gently hit his arm before proceeding to knock on the wooden bench. "that is so not a funny thing to say, rin!"

"alright, alright. jokes aside, there's nothing for you to be afraid of. you don't have to be alone, you know? i'm here for you." he proclaims while simultaneously soothing your back in a circular motion.

"how can you be so sure?" you mumbled, your forehead crinkling in the process.

"i know so," suna replies. giving you an assuring smile, pressing his thumb on your forehead. "trust me."

a smile spread across his face, and for a moment, everything else faded away. feeling a warmth spread through you, like the sun breaking through the clouds. you felt the warmth on your face.

it was in those smiles you saw the promise of what could be, the warmth of a friendship that felt so much deeper than just friendship.

"you're my best friend, what choice do i have?" you winced internally at your choice of words.

"what if i want more than that?"

your breathe hitched. words seemed to be stuck inside your throat. were you hearing him correctly? was this another faux flirtation? maybe this was your mind playing yet again its awful tricks on you—

"i really really like you. i like you a lot... for the longest time." suna adds, cradling your face ever so gently.

or maybe not. maybe it was never casual. maybe he does likes you.

"i like you too." you exclaim, your mouth had a mind of its own. then again, you were never one to hesitate when you're with him.

suna rintaro gave you a boyish grin. a grin that spread across his face like a ray of sunshine piercing through the gray clouds of your thoughts.

in that moment, it felt as if the world had stopped; everything faded into the background, and it was just him, glowing with pride and happiness. it was infectious, drawing you in, and you found yourself unable to resist smiling back.

he always had that effect on you, even on days when you felt heavy with unspoken fears. that grin had the power to chase away the clouds that hovered over you, if only for a moment.

each time he smiled or grinned at you, it was as if he were speaking a language only you could understand. a soft whisper of reassurance that told you everything would be okay, even when you felt like your world was crumbling.

in those fleeting moments, the weight of everything—college applications, impending goodbyes, and the uncertainty of your futures—seemed to lift. it was as if his smile casted a spell that made everything else go away.

a soft breeze rustled the leaves above you both, showering you with a sprinkle of gold.

the future is uncertain. yet, you chose to brace the unknown.

you laughed, caught off guard by the sudden flurry. “it’s like nature agrees!” you exclaimed, your heart dancing in tune with the fluttering leaves.

you made the decision to stop thinking of the uncertainties ahead. it comes soon enough.

“nature definitely approves of us,” suna said with a lovesick grin, shifting closer to you. your hands intertwined, fingers lacing perfectly together.

[casuallyobssessed]

Fairytales & Firesides - Bodyguard!John Wick x Fem!Reader ❥ 6.1k Words

A/N: My Keanuverse Secret Santa gift for @at-wicks-end, hosted by @97keanu ! I hope you love it! P.S. I don't live in an area that gets snow, sorry if this is inaccurate! 🫶🏼

Before You Read: bodyguard AU, fluff, canon typical violence/descriptions of violence, short-ish slow burn (I tried lol), angst, no beta, use of Y/N, :3c

gif creds to dalekinapaintedparadise - divider by bleachbambi

Archive of Our Own Link

Winter crashes into the mountains like a raging bull, forcing you inside for the foreseeable future. Sleet and snow dominate the weather forecast, rendering the outdoors dangerous in more ways than one. While the snow comes down, you could usually be found tucked away in your home library. Warm light from the fireplace bathes you in an orange and red glow as you curl up in your comfiest chair with one of your many books. This has always been your treasured safe space. 

At least, it was, until things with your uncle got more complicated. For a while now, you've been living in one of your uncle's mansions, kind of doing whatever you want. He allows you to stay there only because you promised to look after the place every winter when there aren't as many people around to help on the property due to the snowfall in the mountains. 

Your uncle, Diego, is into some pretty shady stuff. Gangs, drugs, secret societies? You name it, he has his fingers in it. Recently, Diego had some kind of drug deal gone bad with a very prestigious group of people involved. Since then, they've hired a hit on your uncle and any of your family that they can get their hands on. A distant cousin, one aunt, and your great grandfather have all fallen victim to revenge killings. Diego fears that you could be next since you live in one of his properties, so he's hired a selection of bodyguards for your protection.

Unfortunately, the newly hired muscle made your comfort space feel more like a prison. As silly as it might sound, you felt like a princess locked away in her secluded tower. Being a full grown adult, something like this seemed like overkill. You didn't need twenty four seven protection from everything that goes bump in the night, but you were dependent on Diego’s generosity, so you accepted his offer of security with gritted teeth. 

As the time passed, your bodyguards came and went. You never had the same one for more than a week at a time. Many of them were kind to you, and thankfully, only one of them had been a creep. They were promptly dealt with (according to Diego, anyway). 

It didn't take too long for daily life to start losing its spark. You plowed through a good portion of your books in the first couple of weeks. This prompted you to start writing your own book. Really, it was more of a journal documenting your experience, but who said it couldn't be both? 

The guards were usually your only contact with the outside world, so you appreciated your conversations with them. Trading stories of their heroic actions for your recounts of the fantasy books you had been reading, you were able to keep your imagination running wild and your notebooks full of ideas. 

After one particularly difficult week, Sunday rolled around and it was time for a new guard. You bid farewell to the previous one and patiently waited to meet the lucky new bodyguard. Diego would brief them on their duties before they were dispatched to your side. You just hope they were kinder than the last. 

Your newest guard is set to find you on the floor in your library, busy reviewing pieces of your story journal. The click of the door opening snatches you back to reality, turning your attention to the man entering your sanctuary. Standing up, you step over your journal and various papers scattered around the floor, and slowly walk over to where he stood. 

“Good Morning, Ms.Y/N,” His voice is as smooth as honey.

“It's nice to meet you,” You offer your hand and he takes it, giving it a firm shake, ”What's your name?” 

“John. I see that you're busy, I'll keep out of your way.” 

John looks past you, at the chaos spread about the room, and gives you a curt nod before assuming his post by the door. You return to work on your journal, hoping he doesn't notice the urgency in your writing as you occasionally steal glances at him, documenting the handsome new guard. 

John is not a bad looking man. He stands a good bit taller than you with slicked back, dark hair and a matching, well groomed beard. He has beautiful brown eyes that twinkle as though they hold the secrets to the universe. Maybe that last part is all in your head, but there's certainly something mysterious about this man that captivates you.

Out of your way is where John stays for the next couple of days, quiet and mostly indifferent to your presence. He followed you whenever you left your library but kept a distance either in front or behind you. At night, he sat on the couch in the far corner of your room. Under normal circumstances, it would have made you too uneasy to have someone watching you sleep, but after weeks of constant surveillance, you were used to it. 

Come the third day, you are determined to break the ice with him. Two days of no conversation other than one word responses was driving you mad. It never took this long for a guard to warm up to you. So, you decide that you are going to try your best to get some kind of response out of him. 

Small talk definitely isn't going to work. This man is clearly not one to gossip or discuss the weather with. Your first attempt is to ask him about current events. ‘What's the world like out there right now? Anything important happening that I should know about?’ You're met with only a shrug and a small, well meaning smile. Strike one. 

Next, you try asking him about himself and his home life. ‘Have anyone at home missing you while you're busy here? Do you have any pets?’ Unfortunately, these questions don't receive much of a response either, not even so much as a shrug. The look in his eyes hardened after the first question, though. You figure it's best not to push it. Strike two. 

For your last attempt, you decide to ask him if he has any interesting stories about jobs he's had in the past. This was a common question you had for your guards as their answers would usually help inspire your writing. ‘Do you have any cool action stories or experiences you could share? I can tell you about some of the books I've been reading in exchange!’ Finally, John looks at you with somewhat of an amused expression on his face. It's the most emotion you've gotten out of him, so far, but he doesn't say anything. Strike three. You're out! 

…Or are you? 

John shifts on his feet before clearing his throat to speak, “I suppose there are a few I could share with you.” 

“Awesome. Let me grab my notebook,” you say incredibly calmly, desperate not to give away your excitement. Mentally, you're doing a celebratory victory dance. 

-

For hours, you two trade stories. His were outlandish, but true. Each story is more nail bitingly exciting than the last. Yours range from the worst romance novels you've ever read, to the best fantasy books you have shelved in your library. You filled half your journal with wonderful ideas thanks to John. And on top of that, it seems like he is getting more comfortable with talking to you. It's an overall win-win for you. 

That night, you become keenly aware of John in the corner of your room, reading one of the books you suggested to him. You're not sure what changed, but you feel very differently about having him here. Sure, you feel protected, but something inside you has started to feel warm and gooey knowing he's always nearby. Maybe you just need a good night's rest. It's been a long day. You snuggle up underneath your comforter and drift off to sleep. 

The next morning you wake yourself up from tossing and turning. You can't catch your breath, you're completely flushed, and your heart is racing. It takes a moment, but suddenly your dream from last night comes flooding back and you're blushing like a schoolgirl. 

You had a dream about John. Oh God. Your cheeks must be burning bright red from embarrassment. Looking over at John, he is seemingly still asleep. His eyes are closed, head leaned back, arms crossed on his chest, and legs spread wide. You wonder what would happen if you were to crawl between those long legs and… Nope! Nuh uh! Shaking the rogue thoughts from your head, you promptly get out of bed and make your way to the bathroom. You need a cold shower, pronto. 

Upon returning from your shower, John was finally awake, reading the same book from the night before. Realizing you’re back and wearing only a towel, John excuses himself and steps outside the door to wait for you to change. 

You don't know how you're supposed to face him, but you know that the thoughts you're having aren't fair towards him. John has been completely professional with you while he's been here and it would be inappropriate of you to cross that line. 

Getting dressed quickly, you pick out a pair of plaid pajama pants and a long sleeved shirt. Never leaving the house has some perks. You rarely have to get dressed up in stiff, fancy clothes unless you really want to. Days like today, you can lounge around in pajamas with no consequence. 

Once you’re finished dressing, you leave your room and briskly walk past John without a word. You don't necessarily want to be cold towards him, but until you get a grip on yourself, it's probably better that way. 

John dutifully follows you back to the library and posts up by the door. You tend to the fireplace, rekindle it as needed, and then plop yourself onto the bench next to the window adjacent to the hearth. Frost is crawling up the edges of the window, obscuring your view only slightly. As you stare out into the wintry wonderland, you try your best not to think about John and the contents of your dream. 

Instead, you focus on the snowflakes as they dance down from the sky in a flurry and collect on the ground below. With how soft the snow looks, you have no trouble imagining yourself making the perfect snow angel, right in the front yard. You're not sure if going out there is the best idea, given the weather and the unpredictable danger, but a little freedom might just be what you need right now.

Maybe if you move fast enough, you could get past John and escape outside. It was worth a shot. You nonchalantly rise up from the bench and silently shuffle back to your room. John trails along behind you, looking moderately confused. You hurriedly shut the bedroom door, accidentally closing it in his face.

“Sorry, John! Give me a minute, I'm changing again,” You call out.

A muffled ‘Okay’ can be heard as you dig through your closet looking for your puffy winter coat. You find it half shoved in the back corner, dangling precariously on its hanger. After pulling your coat on, you slide into your snow boots, wriggle your fingers into your gloves, and head towards the front door. 

As fate would have it, a big coat and snow boots are not the smartest choices when you're trying to move fast. You make it as far as the foyer, reaching for the door handle before he stops you. So much for keeping your distance from him today. 

“Ms. Y/N, where do you think you're going?” John grabs your arm tightly enough to keep you in place. You try shrugging him off, but he's got too strong of a grip on you. 

“Outside. I want to see the snow.”

“You can see the snow from in here,” He responds as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. 

“I want to feel it, John. I want to remember what it's like to breathe fresh air.” 

“It's my job to keep you safe. Inside,” He replies sternly.

“I'm going out and you are not going to stop me,” You spit back at him, putting your foot down. 

John reluctantly lets you go and takes a step back. He considers you for a moment before he speaks again.

“Fine. Diego won't be pleased, but at least let me put on my coat.” 

You oblige his request and wait for him patiently until he returns wearing his heavy, black coat. Though you do feel a little bad for how you spoke to him, you don't regret it. You have been cooped up in this house for far too long. 

John insists on stepping outside first to make sure it's clear before allowing you to follow him. The second you cross the threshold, cold, crisp air hits your face and you breathe a sigh of relief. Being inside all the time gets incredibly stuffy and winter isn't the ideal time to be opening windows to air things out. You stare up into the sky as snowflakes land on your face, only to melt against your skin. 

Everything is still and quiet. From the house to the trees, it's a peaceful, untouched spread of snow, give or take a few sparse animal tracks. Off to the side, John is watching you and your surroundings with a sharp eye.

You trudge around in the snow looking for the best place to make your masterpiece. Just in front of the windows to the library, you find the perfect spot. 

Without another thought, you fall back into the snow, moving your arms and legs to create the shape of a snow angel. You feel as giddy as a kid, smiling ear to ear and laughing like a fool. Who knew something as simple as playing in the snow could make you feel so happy, so free? 

“John, come on! Make a snow angel with me. Please?” You’re begging him to have some fun with you even though half an hour ago you were plotting how you could avoid him indefinitely. 

His footsteps crunch in the snow until he's standing over you with a smile almost as wide as yours as you look up at him. You feel as though the heavens have opened up and you're staring directly at an angel. The frost nipping at your nose pales in comparison to the heat bursting inside your chest. 

He solemnly shakes his head at you, “I can't, I'm sorry.”  

You stay like that for a bit until the cold from the snow starts to overwhelm you through your coat and pajama pants, sending chills down your spine. You stand up from the ground to admire your handiwork. It's a solid outline if you ignore John's big footprints in the snow above the head. You decide it's an easy eight out of ten.

Satisfied with your creation, you move on to your next activity. You scoop up a handful of snow and pat it into a ball in your hands. Luckily for you, John is turned away, distracted by something off in the distance near the trees. Now’s the perfect chance to strike. 

You wind up your arm and toss the snowball at him, smacking him squarely between the shoulder blades. Pumping your fist in the air, you holler out a loud ‘Yes!’

You hear an exasperated sigh come from John, and quickly, you realize you may have messed up and taken things too far. 

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-” Your apology is cut off by John whipping around, grabbing a fistful of snow, forming it hastily in his hands, and then throwing it at you, landing in the center of your chest. 

Stunned, you let out a loud laugh before returning fire. John obviously has the better aim of you two. Missing every other shot was an improvement for you, while he was landing every hit flawlessly.

Unsurprising to you, John ends up as the winner of the snowball fight. You gave up once your stomach started rumbling and you realized that you hadn't eaten any breakfast yet. Hungry and defeated, you head back inside with your bodyguard in tow.

In the foyer, you strip off your coat, gloves, and boots, tossing them to the side. You had plenty of time to worry about them later. John hangs his coat up carefully on the coat rack and turns to you expectantly. 

“Thank you for going out there with me. That was a lot of fun,” You exclaim while rubbing your hands together to bring back the feeling in them. 

“It can't happen again, but you're welcome,” He looks genuinely sorry. 

“I know,” You understand the danger, but you wish things were different, “Are you hungry? I can make us some mean pancakes.” 

“Sure, Ms. Y/N,” Once again, John is smiling at you and it's enough to ignite even the coldest parts of you. There was no way on earth you could keep trying to avoid him when he made you feel this way with just a smile.

-

Breakfast went off without a hitch. Well, there may have been a minor hitch involving the pancake batter, but John stepped in and saved the day. He ended up offering to take over the process entirely, and you agreed. That gave you a chance to watch him do something besides stand still and look all serious.  

Once you’re done eating and all the breakfast dishes are clean, you scurry back to your library with John right behind you. Your journal and miscellaneous papers are still spread around the floor from the night before. John had really given you some wonderful stories to fuel your imagination, and now it's time to incorporate them into your book. 

By the door, John stands perfectly still, aside from the sly glances he throws your way. Seeing him stand over there by himself tugged at your heartstrings a bit after the eventful morning you've had. It suddenly felt very selfish to have someone on their feet, at attention, all day and night just for you. From your seat on the floor, you gesture to the chair right beside you.

“You can sit down if you want. I'm sure you can still protect me from any threats just as well over here.”

“Thank you for the offer, Ms. Y/N, but it's in your best interest if I stay here.”

“Are you sure?” You think for a moment and then continue, “What if I said I felt way more safe with you sitting next to me?” 

John gives you a hint of a smile before quickly resuming his professional poker face, “I really shouldn't… but if it makes you feel safer, I guess I can do that.” 

You lean over and pat the cushion of your comfy chair, encouraging him to sit. He makes his way over to you and sits in your chair, sinking down into it like it was made for him. After a few minutes of sitting together in silence as you worked, you begin to wonder when the last time he was truly able to relax was. 

“Hey John?” You look up at him, journal in hand.

“Mhm?” His voice thick with unease as he looks down at you.

“Can I read you some of what I have written so far? Will you tell me what you think?” 

“Sure.” 

Ever so slowly, John starts to truly relax as he listens to you. He spreads his legs just so and lets his shoulders ease back into a comfortable position, listening to you intently as you tell him your story enthusiastically. You stop occasionally to get his opinion on a set of dialogue or how a sentence is phrased and he's more than happy to advise you. By the end of the day with him, you've completely filled another notebook and you've fallen totally head over heels for John. 

-

The next few days pass by in a blur. John assists you in nearly completing your book, lets you sneak outside again (a couple, glorious times), and he even makes breakfast for you on Saturday morning. 

On Saturday evening, knowing that he'll have to leave soon, you convince him to have a movie night with you by letting him pick whatever movie he wants. You make a huge bowl of popcorn for the occasion and get settled on the couch while John peruses your Uncle's movie collection. He decides on an obscure western you've never heard of, and settles onto the couch, leaving one seat's worth of space between you for the popcorn bowl. 

Subconsciously, you wish he was sitting closer, but you'll have to settle for accidentally touching hands while reaching for popcorn at the same time. 

So far, the movie is a total snoozefest. You wouldn't dare say that to John, considering he seems to be enjoying it. If it weren't for his proximity to you keeping your heart racing, you definitely would have nodded off by now. Surprisingly quickly you run out of popcorn, so you set the bowl on the coffee table to get it out of the way and break down that final barrier between you and John. 

Half way through the movie, you find yourself scooting inches closer to John. You hope he doesn't notice, but something about him just has a magnetic pull that draws you in effortlessly. 

-

Now three fourths of the way through the movie, you start to feel brave. Taking notice of how lonely his hand looks resting on his thigh, you make the bold move to place your hand over his during a particularly high action scene. His hand is warm against yours and the feeling sends tingles through your fingertips. 

You're pleasantly surprised when John doesn't shrug you off, but instead looks over at you with a small smile, before lacing his fingers with yours. Your heart is thumping inside your chest as he gives your hand a squeeze, but you're sure it's going to explode when he lets go of your hand to pull you into his lap. 

Your senses are overwhelmed as you get a light whiff of the warm spice of his cologne as you lean in close, taking all of him in. His hands are gently holding your hips as you wrap your arms around his neck. You look to him for silent permission before closing the gap between you, pressing your lips against his. The feeling in the air is positively electric as his lips meet yours. 

-

The two of you stay like that for what feels like hours. John's the one who breaks away from you first, looking absolutely debauched. His hair is slightly tousled, cheeks and lips are brushed red, and the lustful look in his eye is burning a hole right through to your center. 

It's him who decides to ignore the tenting in his pants and politely recommends that you go to bed. As much as it kills you to do so, you reluctantly peel yourself off of him and go straight to your room to take another painfully cold shower. 

Your entire night is filled with another round of tossing and turning mixed with racy dreams featuring your bodyguard, who never finds his way into your room throughout the night. You assume he's keeping watch from the living room, only slightly neglecting his duties of having an eye on you at all times. 

-

Saying goodbye to John the next morning may have been one of the most difficult things you've ever had to do. No amount of begging or tears could have changed Diego's mind. ‘Getting attached to these people is like falling in love with a mutt you know you can't keep. They're here for your protection, Y/N, not for you to play with.’ His words stung. Even if it was the truth, you didn't want to hear it.

With tears in your eyes, you watch through one of the library windows as John's car retreats down the driveway. The hole in your chest feels massive, like it’s destined to swallow you whole if you aren't careful. Holding yourself tight, you curl up in your comfy chair and cry. It's the only thing you can muster the energy for. 

-

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

You're startled awake from your sleep by loud, insistent thuds of the brass door knocker echoing throughout the otherwise silent house. You're not sure how long you’ve been out for, but the sun has gone down and the only light left is coming from the crackling embers in the fireplace. Rubbing your eyes, you drag your feet to the front door and open it without thinking twice.

Standing on the other side is a wall of a man. He has to be taller than John by at least half a foot, and twice as wide. He's wearing a simple black suit, not unlike something one of your bodyguards would wear during their time here. That must be it, he’s the newest guard hired by Diego. Since you had been asleep, you haven't checked your phone yet to see if you had any missed calls from him.

“Y/N, I assume?” His voice sounds like gravel, in an unpleasant sort of way. It lands roughly on your ears and makes you wince.

“That would be me. Did Diego send you?” 

The man ignores your question and gestures towards the foyer, “Can I come in? It's freezing out here.”

“Uh, yeah, sorry, come on in.”

As you step back to allow him through, he slams a massive hand against the door, knocking it wide open and shoving you harshly onto the floor. Before you can make sense of what's going on, he's got a hand in your hair, dragging you further into the house. 

You kick and scream as he lugs you down the hall and into one of the spare bedrooms. You try digging your nails into the back of his hand but he doesn't seem affected by the pain as he picks you up off the floor and tosses you onto the bed. The second he lets go of your hair, you scramble off the bed and towards the door. In a flash, the man grabs you by the ankles and drags you back over to the bed. 

This time, when he chunks you on the mattress, he produces a gun from his waistband and places the cold barrel directly against your forehead.

“Don't move again or I'm gonna blow your fuckin’ brains out.” 

Your eye twitches as you stare at him, afraid to even blink. He puts the gun back in his waistband and reaches into a pocket inside of his suit jacket. Out of his it, he pulls a pair of shiny metallic handcuffs. 

You're tempted to make another run for it, but you recall the feeling of his gun against your skin and you decide better of it. He grabs one of your wrists and slaps a cuff onto it, and when he reaches for your other wrist, you snatch it away. 

This appears to be your second mistake of the night. The man rears back and slaps you harder than you've ever felt before. 

“Stop acting like a brat,” He hisses at you. 

Tears well up in the corners of your eyes as pain shoots through the side of your face. You barely register it as he successfully grabs your hand and places the remaining cuff around your wrist a little too tightly. The cuffs dig into your skin painfully, taking your mind off of the pounding in your head.

The mystery man paces around the room checking the windows and shutting the bedroom door before stopping in front of you. He places a hand on your shoulder and clears his throat to speak. 

“All right, listen. Here's how this is gonna go. When I get the go ahead from my Boss, I'm gonna kill you. Until then, we wait.” 

You shrug his hand off your shoulder and your brain starts to spiral into full blown panic mode. There's no way you can muscle your way out of this. You could try playing the money card, he might fall for it. 

“You don't have to do this. Do you want money? My uncle can pay you double whatever your boss is paying. Call him, I'm sure he-” The man presses a finger to your lips, shutting you up. 

“Stop talking.” 

With that, he goes back to pacing around the room, occasionally checking his phone for that green light to take you out. Your mind races a million miles an hour as you pull against the handcuffs, knowing you can't slip out of them. Sniffles fill the room while your eyes start watering again. The man gives you a disgusted look as your breathing quickens and your lip trembles. 

“Are you really crying right now? Give me a fuckin’ break. This is just business. Eye for an eye type deal,” He snarls before going back to the window.

“Shit. Shit!” 

He sees something he clearly doesn't like, and backs away from the window. In a huff, he's grabbing your arm, and snatching you off of the bed. You resist, pulling away from him and stumbling backwards. The man growls before charging at you, grabbing your waist, and hoisting you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. 

“Put me down!” You scream and pound your fists against his back to no avail.

With his other hand, he pulls out his cell phone and makes a call that goes unanswered. He hastily leaves the bedroom and carries you down the hall, heading towards the kitchen. You try to grab everything you can as you pass by to try and slow him down: the walls, picture frames, even a curio cabinet that only topples over and smashes, littering the floor with glass. Unaffected by your attempts, he stops in front of the back door, overlooking the patio. 

“Hope you like the cold,” He grumbles and opens the door, cold air blasting into the house. 

Not giving you a chance to resist this time, he walks out into the snow and tosses you on the ground, landing you hard in the snow. 

“Get up, come on,” He's got his gun out again, pointed directly at you, “Towards the trees. Go!”

You try to collect yourself to stand up, but you're shaking so bad that you can barely keep your balance on your bare feet. Lacking the patience to wait for you to get a grip, he tucks an arm underneath yours and starts dragging you along again. 

The cold bites against the skin around your cuffed wrists. Your feet are so painfully frozen, they almost feel warm as you try to keep up with the man holding a gun to your head. 

It's a long walk to the tree line and by the time you make it there, you can't feel your feet or hands anymore. Your pajama bottoms are soaked through from the snow and you're convinced there's no possible way you can take another step, so you don't. You collapse at the base of the nearest tree, slipping out of his grip. 

“Any last words?” The man raises his pistol to your head once more, “I'll make this quick.”

As you look up at him, your attention is drawn to the black outline of a figure running through the snow behind him, about halfway between the house and the trees. Your brows furrow in confusion, prompting the man to turn around and follow your gaze. 

“What the fu-” You watch in disbelief as a sickening splatter of blood, bone, and brain matter explodes from one side of his head, tainting the bright white snow with a glistening red. All that can be heard besides your own heavy breathing is the loud crack echoing against the mountains. The light disappears from his eyes as his body crumples beneath him, landing with a soft crunch as the snow packs down underneath. 

You'd scream if you could feel any part of your body, but the best you can do is screw your eyes shut and hope you're not next. Your tears freeze against your cheeks as you cry and hold your arms as close to your body as you can for warmth, even if it's futile. 

Not long after, you hear fast approaching footsteps stomping through the snow, headed right your way. 

“Y/N?!” Your eyes snap open. You know that voice. 

“J-J-” With how bad your teeth are chattering, it's hard to speak. 

In an instant, John is in front of you, pulling off his coat to wrap around you. He crouches down to eye level with you and places both hands on your cheeks, looking at you, his deep, brown eyes are full of concern. 

“Are you alright? Did he hurt you?”

You're not sure how to answer that question without crying even harder, so you just lift your hands up to show him the cuffs digging into your wrists. He seemingly understands what you're trying to say and turns towards the unmoving heap of a man on the ground. He searches through the man's pockets, pulling out a wallet, a cell phone, car keys, and finally, the keys to the handcuffs. John unlocks the cuffs quickly and tosses them into the snow beside you before gently rubbing the sore areas around your wrists. 

“Let's get you inside, hm?”

You nod eagerly and try to stand up with him, but you can't feel your legs and you end up losing your balance again, almost toppling over into the snow. Thankfully, John catches you before you hit the ground. 

“I c-can't-”

“Shh, I've got you. Hold on to me,” He reassures you. 

With that, John is placing your arm around his neck and picking you up bridal style. The walk back to the house seems even longer and colder than before. You hug his neck tightly as he carries you, hoping that your shaking doesn't bother him too much.

-

John carries you into the house, past the broken glass and snow that's blown in from the open doors, not stopping until he reaches your safe space, your library. He sets you down in your comfy chair and kneels down while holding your hand. 

“We have to get you out of these wet clothes, is that okay?” His tone is soft and sweet, yet urgent. 

Again, you nod and let him help you out of your freezing, wet pajamas. He starts with your bottoms, tucking his fingers under the waistband and pulling them down your legs. Next, he pushes the coat he gave you off your shoulders and carefully helps you lift your arms up to slide off your shirt. He dumps them in a soggy pile on the floor next to your chair.

“I'll be right back,” He pats your knee comfortingly before leaving the library.

You sit alone and shivering for a minute until John returns with a big, fluffy blanket. 

“Do you think you can take your underwear off by yourself?”

You look at him with wide eyes and then down at your hands. With how bad they are still shaking, and the fact you only kind of have feeling in them now, you aren't sure what you could do by yourself. 

“I'll help you. I won't look, just wrap yourself up in this.”

John wraps the blanket around the front of your body, then reaches around behind you to unclasp your bra and places it on top of your shirt in the pile. He kneels down again and reaches beneath the blanket, slowly pulling off your underwear and dropping them on top of your bra. You can feel your cheeks heating up from embarrassment, and you're glad at least some part of you seems to be warming up. 

Now that you're free from the clutches of the wet clothes, John turns away from you to relight the fireplace. While he's occupied, you pull the blanket around your shoulders and hold it closed in front of you, still partially numb to the fact that it was John who came to save you and you did not die back there. 

When he's finished with the fireplace, John comes back over and kneels on the floor in front of you, grabbing your hand and holding it tightly, like you'd float away if he lets you go. He still bears a twinkle of concern in his eyes but he doesn't say anything else. Together, you sit quietly, thawing out your extremities and regaining some of your composure. 

You’re first to break the silence once you're feeling properly warm again. 

“You came back?” You whisper.

“Of course I did, Y/N. I couldn't stay away.”

[becausebuckley]

michelle's buddie fic recs: week 52!

can you believe that this is the last rec list of 2024? because wow i can't. time flies... anyway, have a fairly holiday-heavy rec list to end the year with <3

this is a mix of fics with all ratings, so some include NSFW content. please take a look at both the ratings and the fic tags before reading! some might also contain spoilers for season 8.

if you come across something you like in this list, remember to show some love to the author by leaving kudos and a comment!

benefits | rororowyourboat/@rosieposiepuddingnpie | 4.9k | E

When Eddie is crashing at Buck's place during the COVID shutdown, they start hooking up and... just keep going, even though they both insist to themselves and others that it doesn't mean anything. Unless... it does? literally nothing will ever hit as hard as buddie being friends with benefits but then being so dumb about it for being in love reasons <3 this captures that perfectly!

caffeine high | JessicaMDawn/@jessicamdawn | 13.9k | T

Before Buck was Buck, he was Stefan Everhart, member of a boyband called Caffeine High. His career as a celebrity lasted for only five years, and Buck has done his best to put it behind him, but those experiences still bleed into his daily life. It just so happens that there are some Caffeine High fans among the 118. i love the little peeks into buck's boyband days and how he grew up and turned into the buck we know and love in this au!!

cherry chocolate goodness on a gray day | the_milky_way | 1.3k | GA

Eddie has not a so nice day and all he wants is to snuggle up on his couch with a big tub of ice cream. Buck simply joins him. With his own tub of course. this fic makes me wish i liked cherries. so soft so buddie <3

dreams like a podcast (downloading truth in my ears) | iphigenias/@oatflatwhite | 1.3k | GA

Eddie chucks the tea towel over his shoulder and turns so his hip’s pressed against the counter and he’s facing Buck, who is wrist-deep in lukewarm dishwater and no doubt as bright red as he feels. “I think you’re cool, and smart, and hot, and I love you.” “Okay,” Buck says, stupidly. His fingers are starting to prune. “You know I—me too.” they're so cute <3 one of my favourite domestic fics!!

grief stays outside your house (until you let it in) | justhockey | 2.3k | not rated

Eddie is falling, falling, falling. His legs buckle underneath the weight of all this grief, and when he collapses to the floor the impact causes him to shatter into a thousand tiny pieces. He grips the bat tighter still, even though the guilt of it is burning his palms now - even though the only thing in this room either of them need to be frightened of is him. i'm not a massive angst reader, but every now and then i browse for something in the angst and feels tag because i'm just in the mood for it, and this hit the spot perfectly the other day. so beautifully written <3

if we could be serious we wouldn't be us | BekkaChaos/@bekkachaos | 1.2k | GA

Buck gives Eddie baking lessons. Flour fight leads to laughter and kissing in Eddie’s kitchen. they get a little silly and soft and it's just so good!!

i'll be home for christmas | lecornergirl/@clusterbuck | 1.5k | GA

Christopher had messaged, two weeks ago, and said he didn’t want to spend Christmas in Texas. He’d said his grandmother doesn’t decorate the house right, that she won’t let him put popcorn garlands on the tree, that she’s trying to tell him snickerdoodles aren’t Christmas cookies. He’d said he wants to come home. Or— What he’d said was, can i come and spend christmas with you? the family feels are real <3 i love the hopefulness in this one!!

into it (you've got me tied up) | Snacks_4life | 7k | E

Eddie finds BDSM gear in Buck’s closet, leading to them discussing rope bondage. When Buck suggests they try it out together, Eddie can’t do anything other than agree, even if it’s supposed to be platonic. In the end though, it seems it’s not only Eddie who can’t keep his dirty thoughts to himself. buddie + bondage + getting together = one excellent excellent fic <3

like a dog with a bird at your door | fleetinghearts/@shitouttabuck | 51.2k | E

evan “i love you like a dog” buckley has only ever known how to love like, well, a dog, but maybe eddie diaz is the kinda guy to give a flea-bitten mongrel a forever home. this is so beautifully written!! fantastic characterisation, gorgeous prose... truly all a girl (me) could want. i love the sequel as well!

my true love gave to me | scarmaddiewrites | 10.6k | T

Eddie’s plan to woo Buck at Christmas time. eddie spoiling buck around christmas time is just <3<3 so fluffy so good

rearview blues | clytemnestra/@clytemnestraaa | 16.5k | E

Eddie Diaz is not having a great time in El Paso. eddie might not be having a great time but i sure am <3 the torment nexus is real and i love it so much. beautiful fic!!

see the lights, and hang the stockings | wafflesofdoom/@capseycartwright | 2.6k | GA

Eddie finds out that Buck has never ever had a Christmas stocking of his own. He's very determined to change that and share a few Diaz family traditions. eddie going all in to make sure buck has a good christmas and feels included and loved and only good things my most beloved <3 exactly what i needed this holiday season!!

welcome back to the basement | songbvrd/@songbvrd | 18.4k | E

Buddie as The Basement Yard boys. the pet names!! i love their dynamic here, the dialogue feels so very them. it's just so so good!

[navybrat817]

Waiting a Little Longer

Pairing: Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky promises you an explanation, even if he can't give it to you right away. Word Count: 1.3k Warnings: Light angst, tension, friends reconnecting, unrequited feelings (or so you think), slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (yep, he's a warning) A/N: More Dreamboat and Butterfly from my Reconnect AU! ❤️ Beta read by @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You should've gone back down to greet everyone immediately after you changed out of your bathing suit. Instead, you sat beside the bed to watch the rain again. You weren't sure how long you stayed on the floor, but you knew you were hiding at that point. Why?

Probably because I'll scream at Steve for not waiting two more minutes so Bucky and I could talk. And then I'd have to tell him why I screamed when it's not his fault to begin with.

"Why didn't you ask me to dance, Bucky?" you whispered into the quiet room. You would've accepted in a heartbeat, but he didn't know that.

Did he think I'd turn him down if he asked?

What if it was a fear of rejection? If he had feelings for you and didn't tell you, it would be easy to blame him for keeping quiet. Whether he did or not, it fell on your shoulders, too, for not speaking up sooner. Maybe things would've immediately ended with him and Dot. Maybe it wouldn't have made a difference.

Why is it so difficult to say "I love you"? Is vulnerability so much worse than uncertainty?

There was a long knock on the door followed by two quick taps. Bucky. It was his signature knock for you. In your mind, it was a silly thing that made you special.

"Come in."

The door slowly opened. "Hey," Bucky said. You imagined he was trying to spot you. "Are you sitting by the bed?"

Of course, he knows.

"You caught me," you answered, making no move to get up.

"The gang brought food and I think they're eager to see you."

"Okay. I'll be right down," you said before you realized Bucky walked around the bed to join you. His hair was still disheveled from the nap and the light from the lamp created a soft glow in his eyes. You doubted he had any idea how beautiful he was.

I should tell him.

"Are you alright?" he asked as he eased closer and took a seat beside you on the floor.

"Yeah. You know you don't need to worry about me," you assured him, feeling a bit dramatic for staring off into nothing in your room while everyone was downstairs waiting.

"Well, I do," he said.

"There's no need to," you said as he moved closer to you.

He offered for you to cuddle with him earlier, held you when you fell asleep in his arms, and now sat so close his arm and leg touched yours. It was as if personal space meant nothing to him. It was never a problem with you two in the past. Was he trying to get back in your orbit? Recreate the friendship the two of you used to have?

You refused to look deeper into his affection.

"You sure you're alright?" he asked.

"I guess I'm just a little disappointed," you admitted.

"Why is that?" he asked.

"Because we were having a good talk," you answered. And there were many things left unsaid.

"Fuck Steve," Bucky said with complete sincerity.

You swung your head toward him, not expecting those words. After a moment, you giggled and nudged his shoulder when he chuckled. "Seriously. Fuck Steve."

Your eyes swept over his profile when he laughed again, tempting you to lean into him. He said you were born to fly. Maybe he was the flame that led you to him. Not as a moth, but a butterfly. You couldn't get too close or you'd burn like you had before. He wasn't the one who set you on fire though.

You did that all on your own.

"I do owe you an explanation," he said after a moment, shifting to face you more. "But I can't give it to you right this second."

You tried not to let disappointment seep in when you saw the regret in his eyes. "Why not?" You asked, your voice barely rising above a whisper.

"I don't want to say what I need to say and then send you downstairs to our friends," he said, reaching over to take your hand. He let out a breath when you didn't pull away. "Because if it goes well and we can really start again, I want to be a little selfish and keep you to myself."

Keep me and don't let me go.

"And if it doesn't go the way you want?"

Or the way I want.

You didn't want to be pessimistic. Not when you were just out of reach of getting the closure you needed. There was, however, the need to be realistic. Maybe his expectations wouldn't align with yours. Or maybe his explanation would leave you hollow instead of full.

Which was exactly why you wanted answers so you could stop with the "what if" scenarios.

He intertwined your fingers and it was hard to ignore how natural it felt. "Then we'll figure out the next step so we have a good week."

"Okay," you agreed. You could handle that, as much as you wished you could discuss it then and there. "But I want you to tell me the truth and not what you think I want to hear," you added. It was a respectable thing to do.

"Am I allowed to ask for the same in return?"

"I think that's fair."

"Thank you," he said, his thumb running along your fingers as you tried to ignore how your heart began to race. "For everything."

"I didn't do anything."

"Yeah, you did. You agreed to come here after I was a bad friend to you."

"Bucky, you-"

He held up a hand to stop you. "Let me just say this before we go downstairs, okay? Don't say I wasn't a bad friend because I was. I wasn't there for you, Butterfly," he said, a crack in his voice as he squeezed your hand. "You said it yourself that I wasn't a constant anymore and I'm the reason for that. It didn't matter that I was dating Dot. I should've reached out more and I'm so sorry."

I matter to him.

"You already apologized and I forgive you, Dreamboat," you said, wanting nothing more than to comfort him. You didn't realize the distance had eaten away at him so much, even after he said earlier that he missed you. "Do you think I'm going to hold a grudge because of some distance?"

You weren't the type of person to leave him hurting. Holding it against him would do more harm than good as it would disempower you. Like ice on a wound, it would only numb the pain for a short time without healing it.

"There never should've been distance between us in the first place," he said, keeping your hand in his as he pushed himself off the floor. "I want us on the same page again."

"Let's make sure we're reading the same book," you said with an encouraging smile as he helped you to your feet. "That would be a start."

"I think that's fair," Bucky smiled sweetly.

"Hey, you two!" Sam yelled up the stairs. "Food's getting cold."

"Be right down!" Bucky yelled, wincing when his voice echoed. "Sorry. I should've covered your ears."

"Yes. How dare you not do that?" you teased before he placed his hands over your ears. "Well, now I can't hear anything."

He laughed and dropped his hands to pull you into a hug. Your brain flickered on and off as you inhaled his scent. Your bed was so close. All you had to do was pull him to it.

No. Even if he wanted that, I'm not rushing it.

"I will give you that explanation," he promised.

"I know you will."

And you wouldn't allow anyone to interrupt that conversation.

Just a little longer... Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[matchadobo]

can i request the 3rd dialogue in modern au with poly law and kidd??? gn or fem reader is fineeee. i would like for it to be crack-ish where it's really just idiots to lovers, kiddlaw/law x reader/kidd x reader can be established since i want one of the three to be in absolute yearning hence the idiots to lovers bc the yearning character is constantly mistaking the advances of the established two towards them. like i want the yearning character to be equal parts annoyed, endeared, and angsting over the established two. you can make it a bit angsty but happy ending is the endgame hehehe.

KIDD & LAW; soulmate

*pls ignore the wrong ask i uploaded the other day 😭 there were so many asks i got confused (this was before the ask i mistakenly uploaded so mbmb)

🌷matchadobo's 500 followers event🌷

dialogue: "are you plannin' on confessin' or do we need to sweep you off your feet to make it happen?"

wc: 4345

warning/s: very sfw, fluff!, drinking, poly!law!kidd!fem reader, established kidd x reader (bf/gf), soulmate au where you hear bells whenever you touch your soulmate unless a confession happens, i think this is very geared towards law tho 💉

trafalgar law has a crush on you. and it's not just silly little crushes he used to have when he was a child, it was an embarrassingly huge crush. the one that he'd feel warm and fuzzy even for the slightest things.

like right now when you're so close to falling asleep on his shoulder during lecture. you guys just finished a long quiz and lost all fucks to give so your body is giving up completely.

not law though, he was perfectly awake. the rapid beating of his heart was keeping him on his feet as he felt your head precariously land on his shoulder, your forearm brushing by his tatted ones. he tried his best to keep still whilst taking notes and actively listening to class.

what felt like hours turned into seconds because the professor dismissed you all. the shuffling of the seats as your blockmates stood up woke you up.

"shit, how long was i out?" you ran your fingers through your hair as law busied himself with packing up his stuff, all the while trying to hide his blush.

"beats me." he aloofly replied, because if he said more he'd just embarrass himself with nonsense.

you two made your way out the room and eventually out the building, only to find your boyfriend waiting out with his motorbike. he had his helmet on but you knew it was him, from the gaudy color of red of his vehicle and helmet. you smiled at him, all your exhaustion vanished as he welcomed you with a hug.

"baby, you finished class early?" you mumbled on his shoulder, speech muffled from your embrace.

"mhm, thinkin' we'd stop by a diner. and since it's a little early, do a little bit of billiards and drink some booze. how does that sound?" his hands crept up your waist, embracing you tighter as you looked up at him and he reveled on how you look.

"heaven." you smiled. "but we've got some stuff to do, exams are coming up and... law and i..."

"right, of course." he sighed. "do we fit in this bike on ride home or?" kidd gestured to law, looking around as if gauging the impossibility if the three of them would fit.

"i'll take the bus. don't worry." law smiled at him wryly, "i'll get going, traffic's a pain." you waved him goodbye.

"man that guy's so hard to talk to. 's like he always got a stick up his ass. how're you friends with him?" he fetched you your helmet and made space for you behind him.

"oh shut up, it grows on you really. he's a nice guy. just acts like a jackass sometimes. kinda like you." kidd gave you a grumble after that.

law had been in your dorm more than the amount of times you can count. he's your friend and you always study and do some work with him, just like now. he's smart as hell and you two are pretty close. to him, he finds you the least insufferable out of all the people in your university.

"i'll just piss." law excused himself, heading to the bathroom. only to find kidd using the toilet too. his shirt was off, but his back was facing law because of how the toilet was positioned.

"oh fuck, sorry." law turned around.

kidd snickered, finishing up as he pulled his sweatpants up. he headed to the sink to the side, looking at law by the mirror who still had his back turned.

"it's alright, torao. no biggie walkin' in."

law finally turned around, meeting eyes with kidd who was now facing him with crossed arms. as if waiting for law to do something.

"should've locked the door."

"my bad, then." kidd stood upright, walking by the doorway where law was leaning on the side. "i'll keep it in mind next time."

at that moment where kidd and law bumped shoulders on kidd's way out, law heard the same bell he's been hearing whenever you and him touch. kidd thought it was just him imagining it but before he could confront law about it, law had already shut the door and locked it out of sheer panic.

law first heard the bells with you when you accidentally hugged him during an icebreaker at class, you two got paired up that time. you two were the only ones who got a correct answer so your excitement took over you. that was also the time law started having a crush on you. he just didn't act on it because you had kidd already.

this soulmate thing was so stupid and bothersome to law. especially when his "soulmate" is off with someone else. he was starting to think that it was only him hearing the bells. because see, you hear bells when you touch with your soulmate. the ringing stops when you both confess and get together. pretty fucking dumb if your soulmate already heard hers with someone else.

but law shook it off his head, he washed his face and took a deep breath. he relieved himself and prayed kidd wasn't waiting outside. he soon saw the redhead chilling by their couch, booting up a video game. law was relieved and headed back to their dining table to continue some work for the two of you.

unbeknowst to the black haired, kidd was eyeing him the entire time. not out of negative intent or some sort, he was amused and interested. he definitely heard that bell. he and law never really had interactions, much less touch each other. so when he did earlier, it was no mistake.

evening came and law went home, leaving you and kidd to your company. you whipped up some dinner and ate with kidd by the couch as he got some movie playing for you two.

"babe."

"yeah?"

"i heard bells with torao earlier."

your food got caught in your throat kidd had to physically tap your back, tears were coming out of your eyes as the food you previously had in your mouth got all over the floor. he handed you some water after your accident died down.

"damn, you alright?" he rubbed your back, a puzzled face as he assessed how you look.

"that's- i do too, kidd! i hear bells with him too!" you wiped off your mouth with the back of your hand, holding kidd's hand in yours. "ever since the start, i kinda hugged him-"

"you hugged him?" he was quick to reply with a raise of his brow.

"yeah- hey wait, don't get jealous on me now! i got excited, we got a point because of him. only us!" you narrated the entire thing to kidd and he did the same with the bathroom encounter with law.

"that's fuckin' weird, right? i mean, we heard bells with each other, right? or is that not..." kidd scratched the back of his head, placing his plate down because the conversation was getting intense.

"we did, dumbass. of course we did, we even tested it out, right?" you giggled, remembering having sex with him without a confession. you two had to stop because it was bothering you both you two couldn't get in the mood. and that's how you two confessed, naked in kidd's bed on your tenth date. "but is it possible to have another one?"

"you said you're hearing bells with him, and i did too. no way it could be far fetched if it's the two of us, aye?" he rubbed his temples. "wonder what's he thinkin', he'd be lyin' if he says he ain't hearin' shit."

law was losing his mind. he was doomscrolling on the internet. a polyamorous relationship from the soulmate phenomenon, something to explain the dramatic rhythm of his heart that never calmed down. from the way he felt kidd's eyes lingered and gave him a fistbump by the chest when he was about to leave or how you always hit him lightly for his sarcastic jokes. his head was fucking imploding with the bells.

"i think he was hesitating cuz we're already together. b-but are you okay with it? if we three ever get together?"

"i don't exactly hate it. i found him reaaally damn amusing when you introduced him at first. that attitude he has, it pisses me off so much." he scrunched his nose, remembering how law somewhat ignored him on their first meeting. "but i know for a damn fact, if we didn't get together first. i'd have a crush on him, heavily."

"right?!" you hopped on his fanboy train, fawning over law. "he's so good looking, kidd! right?"

"you know what? i've got an idea, babe. it torao is strugglin' on keepin' it all to himself, why don't we help him out?" kidd had that knowing grin, eyes gleaming with his scheming.

"you want to go to a concert with me?" law pointed to himself, looking at kidd like he grew another head.

law passed by the university gym and stared a little too long when he saw kidd benchpressing. like a rabbit in heat, he gawked like a whore. so much so, kidd had noticed and decided to execute the first step of your guys' plan.

"us three. name wanted me to pass it on." he grinned. "heard you're a fan of the strawhats too, name and i always go to their gigs."

"that's fine."

"mm-mm. you're comin', it ain't a question." kidd crossed his arms, sweaty biceps bulging before law. since kidd was taller, law had to fight the temptation to look ten times harder.

"sorry?" law raised a brow, shifting in one foot as he got a bit irritated.

"wear your best shit, torao." kidd nudged him intetionally, playfully punching his shoulder. and there it is again, the bells. law almost felt like vomiting. not from disgust, but sheer disbelief. he hears the same with you from the start and that was cemented. but with kidd too? this is just too much for him.

"do you think he'll come?" you worriedly gaze over kidd, frantic as you held his hand from his arm around you. law was apathetic, but he's not an asshole to keep you guys hanging. atleast you'd hope he is.

"course he would. i'll drag his ass out his dorm if he didn't." kidd gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. "hah, speak of the devil."

you see law rounding a corner donning a striking, jaw-dropping, toe curling fitted long-sleeved mesh top in black, teasing slivers of his tanned skin littered with tattoos from his chest down to his arms were in full display. he paired it with his signature dotted denim pants in a lighter shade of blue. his boots made him almost taller than kidd. his hat was off and his jewelries were hanging idly. the dim ambiance outside the venue wasn't helping, law's bedroom eyes looked unimaginably deeper. he looked like sin, dripping with felony they would commit over and over with no remorse. he was fucking hot, illegally so.

"traffic kept me. it hasn't started yet, right?" law thought he had something in his face or was wearing his shirt inside out because you and kidd were just staring. it worried him but he kept a cold face. "you two look like fucking idiots. something so wrong with my face?"

you cleared your throat. "i-it hasn't- yeah, uh- we um-" but you were unintelligible. literally just opening your mouth just to keep your drool from not falling. but the silence was also suffocating you.

"you sure could fuckin' dress, torao." kidd slung an arm around law, pulling him closer. kidd had a whiff of law's cologne and fell in love instantly, even the bells ringing was dulled.

law smelled like coffee. he exudes a little burnt sugar and caramelly scent, but he still smelled strong and smelling sweet was far from what he had. it was palpable that it had a tinge of the smell of alcohol, it was inviting and warm once it entered your system. it burned a little when it settles down your throat. and kidd was so close to losing himself and pulling this man into a kiss. you fell in love everyday really, it feels like cheating.

while you were busy gawking at him, it took everything for law to not pull you to a room and take everything off with the way you donned your fit. he hated how kidd being close to him made him quite vulnerable with the feeling of kidd's frame on him, pulling him close. how his torso was pressed to his sides, fingertips squeezing his deltoids. and you pinching his cheek as you playfully invited him to go inside already. he was overstimulated at this point.

so far the concert was a blast, until it wasn't. at the climax of one of their songs, the power went out and the collective disappointment of the crowd was way louder than the string that snapped on sanji's guitar. but you, your world ultimately stopped.

the dark had always freaked you out. it makes the walls of your heart clench and suddenly you forget how to breathe. you had to hold onto anything to not lose yourself completely. you held law's hand as a reflex, you felt him stiffen up from his grip on you but he didn't let go.

"what- why are you?" he asked, you can hear his raised brow from his statement. he soon realized it from the way you cling onto him, your hand shaking in his. he sighed and patted your head. he soon fished out his phone and opened his flashlight. "there, not so scary anymore."

he sounded crass as usual, but you knew he meant well. he always does. whenever his tone seems off and not match his true intent, you know him so well to recognize that he meant it with genuinity.

kidd apparently was four people away and only found you guys from law's flashlight. he somehow got stowed and made friends with other people during one of the tracks. he knew you'd immediately have a difficulty with the blackout.

"hey, hey, it's alright, babe. we got you." kidd placed his arm around you and law as he stood behind in between the both of your frames.

"i'm fine, jackass." law mumbled. yet he didn't shake off kidd. as a matter of fact, he loved it there. but he'd never admit that really.

"hm? think ya need it too tho?" kidd's words were suggestive, or was law delusional?

kidd's hand that was initally placed on law's shoulder pulled him closer, his forearm now hanging loosely down law's chest. law just glared at him, soon keeping his head down as he took advantage of the darkness to keep his blush.

"how you feelin', love?" kidd mumbled to you earnestly, pulling your head to his chest as you shifted to hug him and let go of law's hand.

"that was so fucking scary." you let out a deep breath, feeling safe as kidd finally engulfed you in his warmth.

"thanks, law. sorry i suddenly held your hand. i get super freaked out in the pitch black darkness." you sheepishly got back to him.

that thing you did, the bells went crazy with it. but you are law's priority, so the chaos in his mind and heart was nothing. but as he looked back and with you bringing it up, he found himself melting in putty as you looked up at him with that cute little blush that makes his chest hurt.

"don't be shy about it, then." he gave your chin a playful rub, not hesitating anymore as he couldn't contain that little smile you elicit from him. "isn't like you."

even kidd felt that rush down his stomach. it's like you both felt butterflies with his response. law was always austere and inexpressive, that just now made you two all the more sure that maybe, just maybe this thing between you three is actually something.

from that point on, law got comfortable. jamming with you both, touching each other more, and finally letting loose.

"i'll pay for the food." law fished out his wallet from his bag.

"no no, i got it." kidd shook his head profusely, preparing to stand up to go to the counter.

"okay, hell no. just listen." he asserted, slapping off kidd's hand that already held his credit card. "first, you guys paid for the concert. and now, the food too? now you're just making me look like an ass." law rolled his eyes.

kidd took a long look at law then at you who was giggling and then back at law with a raised, annoyed brow. man this guy amuses him down to the depths of his fucking core. he wants him so bad. he finds the sass so damn hot.

"right. by all means." kidd raised his hands in defense. as law stood up, you volunteered to go with him. you somehow wanted more of him.

"did you had a good time, law?" you looked up at him, the alcohol slowly taking over you as you subconsciously leaned closer. there was some waiting time as the cashier processed your food bill.

"i did. thanks." he smiled a little, letting you cling on him. "and you're very drunk right now." he pushed your forehead with his forefinger, away from him as you dangerously got close.

"pffft, i'm not drunk. i just like looking at your eyes."

"yeah?" law got a little too brave, your perfume clouding his senses. even with the staff looking at two of you, he remains unbothered. which was unusual.

"and i like your hair," you reached and combed through his raven locks and law just let you, even though the bells were driving him crazy with your proximity under him. "and your tattoos." your fingers traced his tattos which were peeking from his collarbone down to his arms and roughened fingers. you can feel his goosebumps as you glide your fingers across the surface of his skin.

"ah, you got a thing for them?" he smirked, raising his brows as he shifted on one foot.

"a bit." you grinned, scratching your nails lightly on the prominent veins of his forearm.

"listen, name. i don't -"

"shh." you cut him off and were playfully squeezing on his biceps. "don't you like it too?" you looked up at him as your head rested on his shoulder, completely inducing the vibrant red in his cheeks. "kidd will be fine with it, if that's what you're worried about. trust me on it."

because really, as kidd watched you two from the table, he couldn't help but marvel in the sight of law being totally frozen when you finally touched him. he savored the sight of you two all clingy by the public, suppressing the need to just surrender it all.

and when you two came back, law tried to flush everything down his system with a bottle of whiskey. which was uncharacteristic of him because usually, he'd be level headed enough to not do dumb decisions like that. tonight was full of unusual things.

"slow down there torao, come on. if you don't stop, you're gonna end up like this baby right here." kidd had you in his arms, cocooned in his warmth. he served as your pillow because you were fast asleep from drinking too much whiskey with law.

law held his alcohol pretty good, he wasn't a lightweight but his blush was getting in there. he was a bit tipsy, a few more and he's gonna pass out. but he and kidd kinda had this competition to see if who can stay up the longest.

you grumbled when kidd gestured to you, hitting his chest a little.

"you ever heard your bells, torao?" kidd broke out, the rum loosening his restraints to ask him. law's breath cut short but he maintained his composure.

"yeah," he chugged a shot of whiskey, an arm on the headrest of the sofa as he leaned back. he met kidd's eyes through his half-lidded ones.

"ah, you got someone already?" kidd tried to act coy, his arm was around you as he reached over to your chin, tracing down your jaw to wake you up a little.

"sort of. what about it?"

"felt electric, ain't it?" he grinned, he looked down at you catching your lips to kiss you while looking at law. kidd didn't do it to make him jealous, because god forbid did law felt something else.

something tight down law's pants it made him chug the entire bottle of whiskey as he saw you two make out. "i remember when she and i felt it. got freaked out but, it was well fuckin' worth it when she and i got to confessin'."

"don't fucking care." law rolled his eyes, "get a room." he acted indifferent, but his pants says otherwise. law was starting to lose grip on himself as the bottle was slowly slipping out of his hands.

kidd caught it, drinking the rest of it while maintaining eye contact with law. "best if we get home now, aye?" law just stared at him with a hiccup, his cheeks embarrassingly red. he's so ful with the whiskey it's comical.

right about now, kidd had you slung across his shoulder while law stumbled over his own steps on your way home on kidd's side. law's dorm was too far away so he just went with you guys.

kidd let out a breath of relief as he plopped you down the bed, waking you up and letting you drink a glass of water before you fall asleep. kidd was very tipsy really, he just did his best so you guys can get home. so he lied down next to you while law just crashed down the floor next to the bed. and now you three were dead to the world.

the morning after you guys prepped him some breakfast, you slipped in a pillow under his head and gave him a blanket. placing a kiss on his forehead subtly.

"smells good, baby. might wanna gobble it all myself, hm?" kidd snaked his arms around your waist, peeking over your head at the breakfast you were whipping up.

"we're making good progress so don't spoil it!"

law awoke to the aroma and instantly shot up the floor, seeing if his clothes were still there. he got out and saw you two feeling each other up by the kitchen. you saw him in your periphery.

"good morning, law! we made you breakfast." you smiled, gesturing to the plate you made for him.

but he felt diffident that you're doing this all for him, almost feels like a burden that you're going out of your way. also, he's been third wheeling enough. "yeah, this was a goddamn mistake. i'm going home. sorry about all this."

"wait law, it's fine- don't leave-"

"no this is a mistake, okay? i shouldn't have slept here. or went to that concert and got fucking hammered."

"law! hey!- fuckin' screw it, screw the plan, name. i'm doin' it." kidd stood up and grabbed law's shirt, his rash actions making it look like he'll start a fight with law. "are you plannin' on confessin' or do we need to sweep you off your feet to make it happen?"

law glared at him through flushed cheeks, you got in between them to reduce the tension. "kidd, for fuck's sake just... let me handle it."

you held law's face in your hands, "we know you hear the bells too. i've heard it since day 1. you do too, don't you?" law's once tensed up frown softened, sighing as he placed his inked hands over yours.

"it's fucking me up, really. you two're always so loud in here." he rolled his eyes and you found it endearing, cuz you see how hard he's fighting off that smile. but he soon latched your hands off his face gently. "but i don't wanna be a pain in the ass to you guys, i can't just simply butt in."

"fuck are you on about?" kidd started, the knot between his eyebrows becoming tighter. "not even gonna give us a shot, you shitty bastard? thought you're damn smart enough to understand how soulmates work?"

law chuckled dryly. "you really do have a foul mouth, huh?"

"suppose i do when you're bein' a jackass."

there it is again, this tension between them like they're gonna start something. law flipped kidd off, middle finger held up so adamantly even if kidd was fuming.

you were afraid they're gonna start punching each other but really, if you hadn't got between them they're gonna start kissing with the way they're eyeing each other's lips.

"he's pissin' me off, babe." kidd placed his arm around you. "one confession outta him and we're all good."

"so you guys are down for a poly?" law alternated looks between the both of you.

"of course! why else we would take you out in a concert, have a dinner date after, and then cook you breakfast today?!" you frantically laid it out for him, slowly losing your mind having to explain everything.

and that's when it clicked to law, that hey, you guys weren't fucking with him. you two like him too! i guess when you explode like that, even an idiot like him would be pressured to understand.

"okay, damn." law chuckled, placing his hands on either of your shoulders. "no need to get riled up, yeah? i like the two of you, so very much. i hate doing all this love shit but the bells are freaking me the fuck out so... screw it all and let's go out together."

just like that, the ringing stopped and everyone let out a sigh of relief.

"didn't know your bastard ass is capable of romance." kidd nudged law, placing an arm around him.

"it won't be if you won't shut the fuck up."

"now i've got one other headaches other than kidd."

this was so difficult for me idk why 🥹 i hope this wasn't ooc 😭 first time writing for law huhuhu

kidd and law had better sexual tension tbh 😳🤸‍♀️

if you guys are interested in requesting a fic for my 500 followers event, my askbox is open! click here for the main event post for more info :DD i have slots for forced proximity, hurt to comfort, fantasy, he puts you in your place (smut), and modern aus!