#3am daze was the majority of it.
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scorpioracha · 11 months ago
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Dating Yoongi
We've finally got the dating Yoongi headcanons!! I'm sorry it took so long but boy is it lengthy so strap in. this is not proofread and im fucking exhausted so edits to be done eventually. if you enjoy reblog, like and leave a comment. cw: does contain smut and one kys moment
Your meet cute with Yoongi ended up being more of a meet awkward than anything. It was 3am at one of the many random convenience stores in Gangnam and you were exhausted, exhausted and hungry. You were doing a year in Seoul for your major and the timezones were really fucking you up. Puffy sleepy eyes,glasses on and a sleep mask resting on your forehead made quite the picture.
It was also quite the picture when you ran into a rack of honey butter chips and wiped out on the floor.
Full wipeout.
Legs up,gravity turned on its head wiped out.
Thankfully the only thing wounded was your pride, but you kinda wished you knocked yourself out so you couldn’t see the handsome man towering over laughing so hard his eyes practically disappeared and a gummy smile on his face. He had a cup of ice and one of those americano packets balanced in one hand and a helmet dangling in his other.
“...chana?”
“Huh?”you said in a daze. 
“Gwaenchana?”he purred in a low rumble. He looked at your lost expression and sucked in a breath.
“Are you okay?”It was a little clunky and half mumbled but you didn’t want to put this man through any more mental torment so you nodded quickly.
“Ne, na gwaenchana!”you replied and quickly scrambled to your feet, almost falling once again because your ankle decided now was the time to roll. He quickly reached out and steadied you, looking at you with so much bewilderment the whole situation felt comical. He looked at the hand that still rested on your arm and quickly pulled it away, you swear you saw his pale cheeks turn pink.
“Um…”he rumbled, looking at you with weary eyes. “stay”
You nodded with wide eyes as you watched this random man run around the convenience store and come back with a juice box and a random red pouch. He looked at you and held up each one.
“Bae juice”
He held up the red pouch. “Hong sam jelly for sukchwi…one moment”
He pulled out his phone and typed quickly. He held the phone to his ear and hummed.
“For hangover”he said, pointing to the two items again. Your eyes widened and you shook your head rapidly. You weren’t drunk. He definitely misinterpreted the situation and just smiled, giving you a smile and waving goodbye before disappearing into the night.
And what do you do when a pretty man buys you pear juice and ginseng jelly in a foreign country?
You fucking c o n s u m e it.
And the next morning when you woke up late to your 8:00am lecture, you just blamed the crazy night because wow what the fuck happened.
You spent the rest of your classes thinking about that handsome stranger. Maybe you did hit your head because WHY didn’t you ask for his name or his katalk? You could have done the whole ‘oh handsome young man, I need to pay you back’ kinda schtick but your brain decided to cosplay the very first windows computer and blue screen the minute you looked at him. stupid.
“Stupid” you groaned, trudging back to your dorm. You had been blessed—got accommodations—for a single room so it was just you and your twin sized 
Oh yeah, and your pining. 
Couldn’t forget about your pining.
You needed a drink. A good drink,some good food and some cartoons to get your mind off this random man. Within minutes you had a bottle of soju and a hefty platter of tteokbokki on the way. Maybe you’d go out for bingsu sometime this week with the girls from your lecture. They were sweet and treated you just like anyone else despite the racial and cultural differences, doting on you as their new maknae and always making sure you ate between classes. It was nice to be looked out for so thoroughly, especially when you were so far away from home. You pulled your phone out to text them when you got a notification that your delivery driver was already on the way.
Huh. they were already earning themself a tip. You stood eagerly by the door waiting and even though you were watching the app like a hawk, you jumped when the doorbell rang and scrambled to open it.
“Gamsahab-”you looked up and saw a familiar set of eyes. “...-nida”
“Soju?”he raises his brow in a way that says ‘again?’. You felt your face grow hot and shook your head rapidly. He just smirked and handed over your takeout bags.
Once again you fucked up,blanked and forgot to ask for his name.
 Damn pretty boy with his pretty eyes and his stupid smile.
It was months before you had seen him again. 
Time heals all wounds and you began to move on. You hung out more with your friends, went to karaoke,saw the sights of Seoul and slowly but surely felt yourself moving on.
It was on a rainy day in May where you found yourself at your usual convenience store. The weather went from sunny skies to torrential downpour within minutes and you had just gotten your hair done. You were looking for an umbrella but found yourself in the snack aisle. 
Blame it on the wind.
What you didn’t expect to find in the snack aisle were seven men bickering. 
You kinda just stood like 🧍🏾‍♀️ until one of them finally turned and god he was stunning 
“Yah, Yoongi-yah!! Move and let this lady through!”
The ‘Yoongi’ in question quickly scooted out of the way, mumbling about how they were all in the way. 
That mumble…
“Yoongi..”you whispered before you could even stop yourself. His gaze snapped up and for once you caught him off guard. His eyes flitted over you rapidly and his mouth opened and shut like a nutcracker.
“Soju girl,”he whispered. Then the moment was lost.
"na iroumi aniya(that’s not my name)” you huffed in annoyance. You know there was an honorific you were supposed to use somewhere in that sentence but your point still stood.
“You speak Korean”another boy said and god he was tall.
“Yes I speak Korean”you said, tilting your head up at him.
“Hyung, you said soju girl couldn’t speak Korean!”a voice laughs. You squint your eyes at this Yoongi who seemingly wanted the floor to swallow him whole. He stared at you like he had seen a ghost actually which wasn’t making things much better. The tall boy sighed and took a step forward, bowing even. 
“I apologize for my hyung,”he said solemnly. “He’s usually not this dumb. I’m Kim Namjoon and these are my bandmates. What’s your name?”
You smiled and returned the bow, happy to finally have some familiarity, both language and warmth.
“I’m y/n”you said. “I think me and your hyung have some catching up to do”
Yes, to say it was a meet awkward was the nicest way to put it.
It was a fucking train wreck of events if you were being completely honest.
You had exchanged info with Namjoon seeing as he spoke the most English and was the only one who didn’t 👁️👄👁️ at you which was nice and had quickly become good friends with one another.
Seeing that their leader liked you, the rest of the boys quickly followed suit and you suddenly had a much bigger friend group than you could even imagine.
Yoongi had become a lot more reserved in a way that was off putting to say the least. You’d only ever spoken to him twice before but there was something off.
you’d asked Namjoon about it during one of your study/music/kill each other from frustration sections and he just shrugged mumbling something about ‘hyung being busy’ 
you rolled your eyes and grabbed your stuff to find out yourself. That’s what you get for asking a dumbass.
Yoongi had been exactly where you’d expect him to be, crammed into one of the practice rooms with his headphones and laptop.
“Yoongi,” you said, tapping on his shoulder. He spun around in a startle and looked at you with a relieved sigh.
“Oh god”he breathed out, “I thought you were one of the maknae begging for food”
You couldn’t help but to smile, all the prior annoyance melting out of your pores and back to the depths of hell where they belonged. Talking to Yoongi was easy, that is when he was still talking to you.
“How do you know I'm not begging for food?”you smirked, taking a seat on the lumpy couch.
“Well, are you?”he asked, raising a brow. You shook your head and leaned back into the couch.
“You’re off the hook”you said, “but I do have a question” “Which is?” “Why have you been avoiding me lately?”
The room grew silent enough you could hear a pin drop. Cornered was the only way you could describe Yoongi. His shoulders scrunched up and he seemed to fold in on himself.
“No reason,”he said plainly.
Your eyes narrowed.
“So you have been avoiding me?”
His eyes widened.
“That’s not what I meant-”
“Then what did you mean?”you asked. Your patience was wearing thin and your heart was racing something ugly.
“I was trying to give you space”
“Space for what? I didn’t ask for space!”you snapped.
“Space for you and Namjoon!”he snapped back, folding his arms over his chest.
“Me and Namjoon?”you gagged. “The last thing me and Namjoon need is space, please collect your dongsaeng cause he won’t leave me alone!”
“Well he’s your boyfriend!”Yoongi threw back.
Huh.
“Huh?!”You shrieked. 
“It doesn’t take a genius to find out,”Yoongi continued, rolling his eyes. “So you can drop the naive act”
“Naive act—Yoongi, you think I'm dating Namjoon?”you asked. You felt like you were going to be sick. Namjoon wasn’t bad by any means, he was just so older brother coded it was disgusting.
“I don't think, I know,”he said. “You guys spend all your time together,you go on dates,you take naps together; it’s obvious”
“Well since you’re such a genius”You said, “How come you couldn’t tell that i’m in love with you?”
Huh.
“Huh?”he said, spinning around in his chair to fully face you. You ran a hand over your face and honest to god laughed.
“Idiots”you said in disbelief. “You’re all idiots”
“Hey-”
“I've been pining over you for months and this whole time you think i’ve been dating Namjoon”you said, shaking your head.
“You’ve been what?”Yoongi said. 
“Crushing on you”you emphasized, “You idiot”
“i..I don’t know what to say,”he said. You sighed and fully leaned back against the chair, feeling all the blood rush to your head from your bold confession. This isn’t how this was supposed to go.
“You can let me down gently for starters”you chuckled humorlessly.
“Let you down—what are you talking about?”he asked.
“Just reject me already!”You exclaimed, waving your hands frantically. You felt like a madwoman.
“Why would I reject you?”his eyebrows furrowed.
You were going to be sick.
“I’m going to be sick”you laughed, running your hands over your face and god were you crying?
“Why are you crying?”he rumbled softly, leaning in and wiping the tears off your cheeks. You just laughed harder, but that ended up turning into a sob because you were so tired. You weren’t expecting a fairytale but this wasn’t the turn you thought today would take. You felt yourself being pulled closer and you knew you should pull away, you knew better. It was all too much and he would just hurt you, but his hoodie smelled like coffee. His hoodie smelled like coffee and his hands were warm as they wrapped around you. You always wondered if he ran hot or cold, but he was neither; Yoongi was pleasantly warm. His hand had somehow wriggled between the two of you and rested on your cheek, rubbing the streaks where your tears trailed. His breath rose and fell in a steady rhythm and for a moment you felt weighless.
“What a mess, huh?”he mumbled, tracing his thumb over your temple. “I went and made all these assumptions…because I was afraid to say I love you”
“You love me?”you whispered. 
“Mm”he rumbled in affirmation. “You didn’t know?”
“No”you said, keeping your voice low, scared if you spoke too loud, the moment would disappear.
“I thought I was being obvious,”he said.
“I thought I was being obvious,”you said. You pulled your head back to look at Yoongi and that gummy smile was on full display.
“We’re both idiots”
Actually dating Yoongi went much smoother than the confession process.
In the early days, the two of you spent a lot of time in the genius studio doing parallel play, you’d work on your assignments and he would work on music. 
Obviously with many interruptions from the maknae line + hoseok, occasionally being prodded by Seokjin and Namjoon to eat,drink and get fresh air
Y’all needed to touch grass and they were sick of it
Being so close to the band in their early days formed an immeasurable bond between you all
But it also lead to a lot of sacrifices on your part that you weren’t prepared to make. 
There was the obvious like no posting about the boys on social media,nda’s up the wazoo,etc. This was all expected and you were willing to do so.
What you weren’t prepared for was how cruel the kmedia could truly be. You weren’t from here, you were a foreigner and that already put a target on your back. The fact that you weren’t thin or pale didn’t help one bit either. 
Thankfully, the boys and Yoongi reassured you in private. Namjoon did damage control and argued with the company to do more on your behalf, while Jimin and the maknae stood by your side like bodyguards wherever you went in silent solidarity. You were never alone. Jin dropped you off at university in the morning, along with Jungkook. Scolding the two of you to have a good day and to eat something that wasn’t chips. Naturally, Jungkook would bring you back once your classes were done and continued to gripe that even though he was older than you, he was still stuck in highschool.
You still hold this over his head to this date.
So thankfully, you had support. Support that if you didn’t have you weren’t sure where you would be honestly. It really felt like you all had become a little family, and being so far from home that was something you desperately needed.
Once the group got larger and was in a more stable position you better believe they all stopped holding their tongues, especially Yoongi. He could be a little hard to read at times but you were not expecting him to be getting himself into full on twitter wars on a burner account over you 💀
“Yoongi stop telling people to kill themselves”
“No”
Being in love with Yoongi felt easy, it was natural. He continued to take care of you in little ways whether it was packing your lunch,giving you transit fare or rubbing your temples when you were tired and falling asleep on him.
Our mans is definitely about that acts of service life. He loves quietly.
Pda made him want to die just a little inside but he wasn’t opposed to holding your hand. It wasn’t like he had anything to hide anyways, you guys were already public. 
He wasn’t the jealous type and although he’d never admit it, he loved how much you and the boys love each other. He’s got a bunch of pictures on his phone of you just in the dorms being domestic. You spent more time there than you did in your own dorm room.
 So although he doesn’t say it often, he shows it with every part of his being. The way his eyes sparkle when he sees you in the morning, his proud smile in your graduation photos. It also made his heart flutter that you got his dry humor and you dished it right back to him, smack in the middle of the maknae line teasing him and Jin about being old.
And when you learned Daegu Satoori from Taehyung to surprise him? Namjoon had to hold him back from proposing on the spot. And to think he ever thought you and Namjoon were dating.
Yoongi bits ✨tid bits about you and yoongi ✨
Yes Yoongi genuinely thought you were drunk and he wasn’t flirting(he got that nuerodivergent rizz)
When Yoongi told you the mint hair wasn’t real and washed it out you cried 🧍🏾‍♀️
You guys have two apartments together, one near Hybe and one in Daegu. You both prefer the apartment in Daegu because that means Holly gets to stay with you guys.
Everytime a new design for shooky it mysteriously appears in the apartment.
You guys have two cats per your request(a white one named sugar and a black one named gloss) the things Yoongi does for love
You guys have been happily engaged for the past year and he proposed in the most unromantic way possible 
NSFW
Baby, Yoongi is a switch with a capital S
Now I have never met a non kinky neurodivergent person and Yoongi is no exception. He enjoys a good power dynamic and has definitely explored kink in the past with previous partners so he’s experienced.
 But Yoongi does occasionally just like to fuck, no rules no dynamics. Just vanilla sex
He’s a lot softer than his image and he honestly likes the separation between the two for his own sanity. The fans think he’s this no nonsense hardass, but he’d much rather praise and reward you than dole out punishments.
He’s a softie at heart and finds a bit of bratty behavior to be cute so you can definitely get away with a lot. Not to say he’s a complete pushover but he definitely will let a good amount of back talk slide before he puts you in your place. It's almost infuriating how calm he is if you’re the type that brats in hopes of a punishment. He’ll just look at you and laugh about how cute you’re being before returning back to whatever he was doing.
It’s pretty hard to tick him off but also not impossible, the easiest way to get him to snap is to mess with him in the studio; especially if he has a deadline coming up. That's how you end up on your knees crammed under his desk not even allowed to suck his dick but just sit there and keep it warm while he works. The condescending mumbles and coos he lets out while stroking your head is enough to send you careening straight into subspace. “Just needed something in your mouth, huh?”he’d purr and gently drag his nails across your scalp
Tongue technology. We all know about it, but you get to experience this first hand at your beck and call. Yoongi is the first one to admit you’re spoiled and when you’re not being a brat, all you have to do is ask and he’ll be in between your legs. He could and has spent hours down there teasing your folds and giving you orgasm after orgasm until you can’t take it anymore.
Somnophilia. This is a kink that goes both ways for you guys but honestly he finds it really hot when you take what you need from him. Waking up groggy in the middle of the night to you fucking yourself on his cock is one of the quickest ways to get Yoongi whining and gripping the sheets. Bonus points if you tie his hands up or cuff them to the bed posts.
He’s not really a fan of quickies and prefers to take his time, but he’s not opposed to shoving you into a closet and getting you off on his fingers if you’re getting needy. He just wants to take care of his girl.
Speaking of his hands, they end up around your throat and in your mouth quite often. Whether you’re sucking or gagging on them, Yoongi makes good on this little fixation and makes sure you get your fill.
He’s down to being pegged. Somebody had to say it guys,🗣️ Yoongi wants something up his ass ‼️
Whether you have him bent over a table or you’re tied up and he’s riding you, Yoongi does enjoy penetration and he’s not ashamed of it. He likes how dazed and pliant you get when he’s bouncing on your strap all flushed and pink and whining. it’s a rush to his head and sends him over the edge faster than he can get a hand on himself.
He’s a fan of cozy aftercare and pillow talk. After you’ve both cleaned up and the bed is moderately clean, he’s off in the kitchen getting snacks and water so you two can cuddle and recap what you liked and disliked. He gets really affectionate after he cums so it usually dissolves into him mumbling praises and kissing all over your face before falling asleep.
All in all Yoongi is the best boy.
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hooman-tree · 1 year ago
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The Overthinking Embodiment Of Anxiety / Leo x Gender Neutral ! Reader .
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THERE WERE MANY TIMES THAT LEO WOULD GRIMACE AND SHRIVEL UP INTO HIS OWN EMBODIMENT OF EMBARRASSMENT. But, him asking for [Name's] number in the stupidest way possible has got to be at the very top of his list. That was pretty much the only thing circling through his head, as he was currently screaming into his pillow profusely. Which was luckily muffled out.
He was currently freaking out, because somehow: Leo just happened to not only fail at leaning against the locker to the ‘awesome rizz’ he claims to have, as school today. But, he also couldn’t stop himself from stammering over his words.
In all honesty, he was one second away from puking onto [Name]. However, a quick: “I’m gonna…gonna be sick. I’ll be in the bathroom, if you need me!” managed to only further embarrass Leo, as he wasn’t able to meet up with [Name] for the rest of that day and apologise profusely for what it did.
Right now, he was still screaming urgently into his pillow, until Raph threw a pillow at him and urged him to ‘shut it up, and go get some sleep’. It was almost 3AM, and his brothers couldn’t even use their phones properly in peace to just roam about the Internet, because Leo’s screaming was consistently ruining Donnie’s Attack On Titan binge-fest Marathon, Mikey’s podcast of his favourite comedians and Raph’s blasting music that he raised up to deafen himself from Leo’s stressed out antics.
Thankfully, Leo stopped his screaming session, as soon as he felt his phone vibrate and ping from a notification popping up. He didn’t really think much into it, thinking it to be a Netflix notification. But, him choking on his own spit just proved it wasn’t even that: [Name] had sent him a message.
Almost immediately, Leo was staring intently at his phone: hesitantly clicking the notification and his phone opened up onto the messaging app.
[Name]: wassup Leo, you good after puking and throwing up in the bathroom? 😭
Leo grimaced at the teasing message, rest his head onto his other pillow, an audible sigh left him, staring up at the ceiling. “They definitely laughed after that…” With a reluctant sigh, Leo responded back.
Leo: heya [Name] & i’m all chilled out now, thanks for asking! and, sorry about that 😕 i got nervous and freaked out there
[Name]: dw mate, it’s all good & hey, at least we can chat here and still laugh abt it together later on 👍
Leo blinked mildly, clutching the phone tightly to himself, his legs wiggled about for a mere second, not able to contain his excitement. A dazed grin appeared onto his face, happily and quickly responding to [Name].
Leo: that’s sound great & i was actually wondering about something i wanted to ask you @ school before, but couldn’t today 😶
[Name]: aight👌, shoot the question @ me then man
This was when Leo kept on constantly typing for a really-really long time, to then just delete major parts of his prolonged paragraph he was wounding up in the text box. He gritted his teeth and slanted them, a nerve-wracking feeling swelled up inside of him, before he finally deleted his whole paragraph and then sent:
Leo: it’s nothing, dw
goodnight, [Name]!
[Name]: goodnight dude!!
Leo sighed, turning off his phone and he laid comfortably on his bed. He felt immensely disappointed in himself for chickening out at the last moment. But, he then remembered:
He got [Name’s] number and even managed to chat with them for a good amount of time, without even sending any stupid typos he overthought on himself to make.
A sigh of relief whipped out of his mouth from that, smiling softly in his sleep. Leo was fine with just trying to go on a date hangout with [Name] again, next time.
He’d have better luck asking them out successfully, next time.
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wonderbutch · 1 year ago
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genres and bands i listen to and how i got into them: an entirely too long useless list i made instead of sleeping
celtic punk
shoutout to the genre ever? i grew up listening to celtic punk literally since i was born. my dad sucks but his music taste does not. this genre is 32% responsible for my leftist punk attitude, which is ironic if you know anything about my father.
- the dropkick murphys: first band i can ever remember hearing. as a toddler i called them ��the bastards”. still a favourite forever and everrr. their newish album “this machine still kills fascists” fucks HARD. the band will forever be a formative reminder of my working class upbringing in a miners family
- the rumjacks: late nights and early mornings in my dads car introduced me to this band. i really will tell me ma when i get home and i wont feel guilty about it
- paddy and the rats: one of the only celtic punk bands i actually discovered on my own. in 2018 i went on a sailing ship for a week and that got me rlly into celtic punk again LMAO. this band is so fucking good
emo/pop punk
i was 13 and tbh it was a phase but i still love listening to fob and mcr and sws
- my chemical romance: unironically i think i got into them through band memes
- fall out boy: literally just thru scrolling through youtube when i was 12
- [REDACTED]: [REDACTED]
- sleeping with sirens: this band shaped me as a person. kellin quinn the original gender envy. ohhh i miss this band sm
- all time low: a kid in my class in year 7 introduced me to all time low and ill remember him forever for it. hope youre well, jaiden.
- la dispute: got to see them live last year after @starcam413 got me into them! theyre kinda more screamo like sws but not in the same way as sws but definitely emo too
- set it off: this band is still SO GOOD. so fucking good oh my god. truly the fucking era
- the score: i was a greek mythology nerd as a kid (its my major now!) of course i listened to the score. i miss being 13 and listening to the score on youtube on my laptop at 3am so bad
folk punk
celtic punk and folk punk are very related, and i grew up listening to bands like the pogues and the violent femmes. is it really any wonder how i ended up Like This
- the violent femmes: as a child my dad would play country death song in the car. yes i am mentally ill and have daddy issues can you blame me????? (the song is literally about killing your daughter and then offing yourself)
- toby foster: really one of my proper introductions to the genre and what ultimately led me to discover bands like ajj and pat the bunny. found him on youtube through his song tennessee. i was 13 i think?
- pat the bunny: after toby foster i was completely hooked on the genre and of course ended up listening to the king himself, pat the bunny. your heart is a muscle the size of your fist is such a comfort song to me even now. it sucks he no longer makes music but im very happy he got sober!
- schmekel: im trans and punk of course i listen to schmekel. fantastic trans and jewish band that helped me a lot with my transness as a young teen
- mal blum: im counting his music as folk punkish, sue me. no idea how i got into them either. their song new years eve is the song i listen to on repeat every single new years eve, and i have yet to change this tradition. Help Me.
- the front bottoms: I DONT CARE WHAT ANYONE SAYS. THEIR EARLIER ALBUMS ARE FOLK PUNK AS HELL. genuinely my favourite band ever. i can’t remember how i got into them but is how i ended up friends with @starcam413 (hi jon!)
- she/her/hers: sooo formative to me when i was 15/16 struggling with being trans.
- harley poe: ohh i love this guy so fucking much. why do i relate so much to a middle aged divorced man????
- days n daze: one of the most popular folk punk bands so i mean. Duh. sooo good i love them.
punk
- the sex pistols: listen. listen to me LISTEN TO ME. LISTEN. i dont even fucking like this band. in fact i despise it. but because my dad is an idiot, he loves this band and played it a lot when i was a kid.
- the queers: i think i heard them on a spotify playlist last year? big fan.
- the muslims: i believe this was recommended to me on reddit?? amazing black and brown queer band, i love it a lot
- tribe 8: im a lesbian with a complicated gender identity of course i listen to tribe 8. trans queer punk band that i listened to a lot when i was like 15 i think
- against me!: listened to them a lot when i was 15
new wave/post punk
got into this genre in 2022 and Hella into it late last year. blame paper girls brainrot.
- devo: got into them in 2022 thanks to an online friend hi ira 🌀 theyve never made a single bad song
- the cure: once again my dad showed me a lot of the cure when i was a kid and getting into music
- blondie: ….have you seen the batman and harley quinn movie….please dont make me say more. the first cassette in my collection is from this band!
- new order: one of my favourite bands right now. like most things for the last three years of my life, i got into this band because of a comic book. the tv adaption of paper girls features two new order songs and it got me absolutely hooked on this band.
rock/all that shit??
- danzig: once again you can blame paper girls for this
- bon jovi: also paper girls. i am obsessed with jon bon jovi’s hair in the 90s. gender envy as fuck
- queen: when i was 14 i found my grandpas mp3 player from the 2000s, he was a big fan of queen. i ended up putting all my music on the mp3 player and ive used it every single day since.
- billy joel: i was raised by my grandmother of course i listened to billy joel. played a lot on our old radio with my nans ipod when i was a kid. apparently my nan isnt even a big fan of him so i guess he was only formative to me lol????
indie
probably one of my most listened to genres just because. i have no reason. ive come to realise that most of my indie music taste is stolen from aura.
- girl in red: shoutout to discovering im a lesbian in 2017/2018 and to my best friend @vampoholica for introducing me to girl in red
- bastille: i love bastille sm icarus is such a good song and as a greek mythology kid i was so obsessed. bad blood youll always be famous to me
- mitski: oguhfhgh i dont know how i got into mitski but good lord. literally life changing.
- the smiths: fuck morrissey. i think this too was aura’s fault and i forgive them bc i love the smiths
- chloe moriondo: ahh the youtube ukulele era how i miss you
- alex g: i can’t remember how i got into alex g but i got into his music in 2022 and now im obsessed and unwell about him
- adrienne lenker: again this is aura’s fault and i am so fine with that. music sooo devastating it makes u wanna throw up and sleep forever
- elliott smith: i started listening to him because of simon vs the homo sapiens agenda
okay thats it thank u for reading this stupid post lol
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yourfinalbow · 4 years ago
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*Hurls half a sad FrozenInTime fic at you.*
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peachsayshi · 2 years ago
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Hello! I hope you’re doing well, I really enjoy your ex husband Nanami series! J was thinking you could do a ex husband Nanami drunk calling you at 3am
MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI
A/N: Thank you so much for this idea! Taking a break writing smut to put some angst out there! Comments & reblog are appreciated xo 
TAGS: alcohol mention, death mention, nanami has kids with the reader, angst, mutual pining-ish, angst
 An Unexpected Surprise (Ex!Husband Nanami x Female!Reader)
“Hello?” 
“Hey, you...” 
You lifted your head up from the pillow, the stiffness in your neck causing you to wince and you arched it gently in the opposite direction to stretch out the kink. A little dazed after being woken up from your peaceful slumber, you lightly rubbed your eyes while attempting to blink them open to adjust to your dark surroundings. By the time you managed to come to your senses, you realized you had fallen asleep curled up on the sofa in your living room...again. 
“M’sorry to wake you,” a deep tone on the receiving end of the line murmured. “I can’t find my keys...”
You answered the call in your sleep, quickly checking your phone screen to identify the familiar voice only to have your heart skip a beat when you saw the name of your ex-husband flash before your eyes. 
“Kento?” you spoke with sudden awareness, the adrenaline kicking in and forcing you to perk up. “It’s 3:15, what are you doing up so late? Is everything okay?” 
“It’s fine, s’fine...” he mumbled, and you pinched the front of your brows suspiciously at the strange tone of his voice. “I just can’t find my keys is all...”
“You’re calling me at three o’clock in the morning because you can’t find your keys?” you questioned with confusion, as if repeating his statement would bring some clarity to the situation at hand. 
“S’not in my jacket pocket...” he rambled, “I thought I put 'em in there...” 
Your eyes widened with surprise, piecing together the conditions around this unusual phone call when you noticed that your eloquent ex-husband was slurring his words.
“Are you drunk?” you whispered into the phone with slight amusement.
“No, m’not drunk...” he denied almost immediately. 
You couldn’t help but smile, knowing full well that your ex-husband never liked to admit it when he was. He had a high tolerance when it came to drinking, and is able to handle his liquor intake better than a majority of people except on the rare occasions when he would go out with Shoko.
His current dilemma was keeping him distracted, and he groaned with frustration before stating, “I could have sworn I put them in my pocket...” 
“Check your pants, you tend to tuck them in there when you're not thinking straight...” 
You could hear him fumbling around, snagging your bottom lip between your teeth as you patiently waited for a reply.
“I knew I could count on m’girl…” he mumbled to himself, subconsciously allowing his statement to slip before shaking the keys between his fingers. “Got ‘em...”
“Good, t-that’s good!” you stammered over your words, desperately trying to ignore how the heat that rushed to your cheeks and the way your stomach tightened from his comment. “Get yourself inside and make sure you drink some water before going bed.”
“Alright,” he replied as he slotted the key into the lock before turning it. “I didn’t mean to wake you…”
THUMP!
Your eyes followed the sound of the muffled bang, shifting to the entrance of your front door as you sprang onto your feet and clutched the phone tighter against your ear. 
“What was that?!” you gasped. 
“Fuck, s’not unlocking…” your ex-husband simultaneously announced.
You shakily approached your front door, staring at the frame in shock as you waited to hear another sound. You began stepping closer towards it, your free hand reaching for the handle until you noticed it turn by itself and shrieked before taking three long strides backwards as the panic began to rise. 
“K-Ken, I think there is someone outside the house!” 
A deafening silence took over, only broken by a quiet thud from behind the wooden frame.
“Dammit,” your ex-husband breathed, “this…this is not where I live is it?”
You chest felt like It was about to burst, the adrenaline searing through your veins as you tried to steady your breath. 
“Are...are you outside my house?” 
Nanami hummed, “it was our house once...” 
***
Your ex-husband rested his low back against the kitchen counter, his arms were folded across his chest and his head was slightly bowed. You got a glimpse of his features, taking in the sight of the warm light against his sharp jawline and swallowed the small lump in your throat. You continued to calmly cut a few slices of bread, but you could feel tingles running up from the tips of your fingers all the way down to your toes. 
He hasn’t been around often, and the most you’ve seen or heard from him has been through phone or video calls. You didn’t even realize ho much you missed him until he stood right next to you. 
The last time you two were alone like this was at Gojo’s New Year’s Eve party - and you vividly remember exactly how that night ended. You shook off the memory of his body on yours, and placed two slices of sourdough in the toaster before pressing your index finger on the automatic knob, and watching them slide down the machine.  
“You’ve been working late recently...” you spoke, finally cutting the heavy silence.
“I know,” your ex-husband agreed, straightening his back as he slowly fluttered his eyes open. “There’s been a lot going on…”
You hated that your stomach twisted into a knot, and you had to clear your throat before asking: “Oh?”
Nanami let out a soft sigh and he leaned slightly to the left to brush his arm on yours.
“I’m spending most of my time with Yuji,” he admitted but you could easily see the veil he had placed on that sentence, hiding the details that he didn’t feel comfortable sharing with you.
I mean, how could he after what happened?
The last time you saw him injured you recoiled from his touch like he had inflicted the same wound onto you. He didn’t have it in his heart to tell you about the special grade curses plaguing the city, nor would he admit that he had been hiding all evidence of fighting them off by asking Shoko to heal him fully.
Tonight was a particularly bad night, and after she tended to his wounds the two of them decided to go out for a drink.
She talked about Suguru, and he talked about Haibara.
The longer they spoke, the more Nanami drank.
There was a time when he was able to share all this with you, but now all it does is shake the already fragile bond that tethered you together.
Deep down inside you resented yourself for putting up such a wall with the man who once shared your whole world.
You tried to recall how you used to have the strength to be there for him, but that was before the true reality of losing him was at the forefront of your mind.
You pinched your brows in slight frustration, reaching for the two slices of bread as it popped out of the machine. You placed it back on the plate, then picked up the jam jar, all the while thinking why Nanami didn’t seem to care that risking his life meant losing you and Hiroki forever…
Was it really only a bother to you?
You saw the inevitable when he didn’t show up that night - of laying your lover to his final resting place, of raising your child and only catching memories of his father through their eyes, and then living the rest of your life all alone thinking about the brief love that came and went in the blink of an eye.
Lost in your own thoughts, you didn’t even realize that Nanami found his place behind you. His arms caged you in, two hands supporting his stance as he held the counter before moving his lips close to your ear.
“I’m sorry if I inconvenienced you tonight.”
His honeyed voice sent a shiver up your spine. Your fingers squeezed around the knife in your hand, and you paused your movements. 
“N-Not at all,” you replied, but the slight hitch in your voice indicated to Nanami that he did catch you by surprise. 
The space around you felt small, the air growing thin when he inched his chest closer to your back. 
“There’s somethin’ different about you tonight....” he pointed out, distracting himself for a moment as he studied you. 
You lightly placed the knife on the plate, your gaze focusing on the back of his hand where you noticed the his veins protruding as he gripped the counter. 
“S’not your hair...” he mumbled, “or these earrings...” 
A soft pant escaped you, with goosebumps pricking your skin when you felt his nose graze down your neck. He drew in a breath, inhaling deeply along the way to take in your scent before smiling against your skin. 
“New body wash?” 
You gulped, unsure of what to do with your hands as you squeezed your thighs together. Your ex-husband was incredibly detail oriented, which made it difficult for you to hide anything new from him. 
“Yes!” you squeaked, feeling your cheeks grow hot when he didn’t pull away as you expected. “A new beauty shop opened just around the corner and they gave away free samples...” 
“Huh...” he acknowledged, “smells good on you.” 
“Thanks,” you nervously replied, subconsciously tugging at your earlobe before finding the courage to turn on your heel and face him. 
Brown irises met yours, the color making you think of home. You could see the restless nights in the slight bags underneath his eyes, and couldn't help it but bring one hand to cup his cheek. The muscles on his face relaxed against your touch but the pensive expression remained the same. 
“You...you should eat, Ken...I can set up the table for you-”
You were interrupted when his hands met your waist, and with one step Nanami had your own back pressed against the counter as he held you securely in his arms. 
“We haven’t uhm-....” he closed his eyes for a moment as he furrowed his brows to gather his thoughts before proceeding to speak, “We haven’t discussed...what happened...” 
His voice was strained, and you knew that he must be equally as tense about the hook up in Satoru’s guest bedroom. There was no way of avoiding the elephant in the room, and up until now you both Hiroki distracting you from confronting exactly what happened.
Your voice fell to a low whisper, “what’s there to discuss?” you quietly asked, but instantly regretted it when he lifted his face to reveal the hurt in his eyes. 
“I just need t’know if it meant...anything to you...or if it was just...an itch you needed to scratch…”
His words pierced through your delicate heart. 
How could he assume you would use him for a quick fuck?
You’ve thought about that moment night after night, wishing it would have lasted longer than what it was. You yearned to kiss him for hours until you couldn’t feel your lips anymore and ached to have him making love to you until the break of dawn. 
“Of course it meant something to me, Kento...” you consoled, your hands finding the fabric of his shirt as you tugged him closer. “It...it will always mean something when it comes to you.” 
He exhaled with relief, his arms tightening around your waist as he held you. 
“Be honest with me…are you truly happy with how things are between us?”
“Kento-” 
“I just...need t’hear you say it. I need you to tell me that this is what you want.” 
You felt yourself melt into him when he kissed your cheek, his body enveloping your own and fracturing your will to resist him. You could feel the internal push and pull - with one half of you ready to take him to your bed and the other reminding you that your ex-husband was in fact, not in the right state of mind. 
Were you happy? 
That was easy an easy question to answer. 
No, you weren't. 
You’ve gone through your whole life never sure about anything until Nanami came along. From the moment he became a part of your life, you knew exactly what it felt like to be anchored in something meaningful. You loved him with the entirety of your mind, body and soul - and wished that you never pushed him away. 
However...the sting of your wound hurt more than anything else, it clouded your judgment and poisoned your veins. Every time you looked at him all could see was a clock ticking away the seconds until you would lose him. You needed to stop loving him because detaching yourself meant that you wouldn’t have to face your worse fear.
You felt so helpless knowing that there wasn’t anything you could do to protect him from the things your eyes wouldn’t let you see. 
How could you stop the darkness from taking away your only light? 
“My love?” Nanami asked, using the tender pet name that was reserved only for you and prompting you to bury your forehead closer against his chest. 
“I-...” you started to speak, but you were trembling in his arms because you didn’t know how to answer his question. “I-...” 
“Mama!”
Hiroki’s voice carried from down the hallway, popping the bubble of privacy that you were sharing with your ex-husband. Nanami eased his hold from around you, blinking a few times to ensure that he did hear his child call out to you and that it wasn’t his intoxicated mind playing tricks on him. 
He felt you push him away slightly, and you nervously shifted in place before dropping your hands back down to your sides. 
“I should uhm...I should go check on him...” you informed. “Please eat, and you can sleep on the couch tonight.” 
“Right...” Nanami replied cordially, but his eyes still held yours with a brief message passing on that he would be waiting patiently for your answer. “That sounds good to me.” 
***
TAGS: @adequate-superstar @damn-geto @pensivespecter @ekaterinatepes @jelly-jellx @lollipopd @shuxjodie @mikasackrmann @alreadyblondenow @nanamikentcs @aizumie @mrsmorgenstern @artemisthestar @velvetlight333 @sluttoru @smoothy-ve @bisexualwomanofcolour @bloombb 
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likeshipsonthesea · 4 years ago
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I don’t know if you take requests for nurseydex fics... but if you do the song “omg did she call him baby” by Beth McCarthy screams a heartbroken Nursey when Dex has a girlfriend
i like really can’t do genuine heartbreak but i CAN do angst that ends happy, so here’s my best shot :)
Nursey’s got a red Solo cup in one hand and a plastic champagne flute in the other and it’s sometime after three but before five and he is definitely not thinking about her or him or them together when he looks up between one sip and another to see the telltale blue hair reflecting the murky spotlights of the basement.
Nursey squints. He could be making things up--his brain is nice like that-- but he doesn’t think he’s imagining things. She’s got very distinctive hair, Dex’s--girlfriend. It’d been rather disappointing, actually, the blue hair. The whole thing had been easier to deal with when he’d been picturing some light-haired brunette going for an economics degree who smiled like a mom at soccer practice. Someone who Nursey could reasonably dislike on grounds of, like, predictability.
But no, Dex had to bring home a blue-haired physics major with a nose ring and good taste in music and the ability to out-argue Shitty while polishing off Bitty’s pie, i.e. perfect. Even Lardo couldn’t pretend like she wasn’t awesome for Nursey’s sake. Even Nursey can’t pretend like Amanda isn’t awesome for his own sake. She’s just so--so--
Nursey squints.
So-- making out with some random girl in a blouse at a frat party.
What the fuck.
Nursey is about two margaritas and three years too deep to be dealing with the emotional ramifications of catching the girlfriend of his best friend (who he’s also kind of sort of possibly maybe totally in love with) macking on some consultant for Goldman Sachs or some shit in the basement of arguably one of the worst frats at Samwell. This one doesn’t even have good music, Nursey’s only here to get drunk without the possibility of Dex calling Nursey Patrol and helping Nursey up the stairs and saying nothing about the poetry Nursey spills or the way his hands linger.
(Fuck does Nursey hate Nursey Patrol, fuck does he hate how much he loves it.)
Nursey downs the rest of the champagne flute--which was probably mostly orange juice at this point anyway-- and hands the red Solo cup to a freshman gearing himself up to talk to a cute boy a few feet away and then Nursey gets the fuck out of dodge. He manages to get a better look at the corporate recruiter Amanda is cheating on Dex with (and really, if you’re going to cheat on Dex, you’re really going to pick a chick in a blouse that probably has opinions on the stock market???) and if he hadn’t been sure before, the distinctive tattoo on Amanda’s shoulder proves that it’s really her.
(“Tattoos? Tattoos? I have tattoos.” “I know you do, Nurse.” “They’re really nice tattoos.” “I know they are, Nurse.”)
Emerging from the basement and then the frat house itself is instantly sobering. The chill from winter hasn’t quite left the air at night and Nursey wraps his arms around himself and doesn’t think about how Dex chirped him about not wearing a coat before he’d left. The frat isn’t far away from the Haus, thank god, but it is slightly farther when he turns left instead of right and then has to a backtrack a bit, but he still gets back in under ten minutes and he can still feel his hands, so overall, a win.
Attempting to get into the Haus quietly is a lost cause, given its one thousand year old floor and the fact that a ladybug could fart in the kitchen and wake up the guys in the attic. Still, Nursey gives it the good college try, which is why he’s creeping ridiculously through the living room when the light turns on suddenly and he screams, much to the amusement of Dex, standing in the kitchen doorway.
“Fuck, dude, what the fuck.”
Dex just smirks in that horribly attractive way of his. “How was the Psi-U basement?”
Nursey thinks of blue hair, washed out in the lights, Amanda’s hand on that girl’s cheek, the way Dex smiles when he’s around her. “Fine,” Nursey says, swaying.
The amusement falters and Nursey wishes he could figure out a way to keep the smile on Dex’s face the way Amanda does. Dex takes a step closer. “Are you alright?”
Nursey shakes his head violently and takes a step back, a step farther away. This is the part where he says yes, yes of course Dexy-darling, I’m right as rain, what about you? This is the part where Dex rolls his eyes and loops his arm around Nursey’s waist, his warm side pressed into Nursey’s. The part where they go upstairs, where Nursey writes his best poetry that he’s too embarrassed to write down when he’s sober, where Dex tells him to sleep well and lingers outside the doorway long enough for Nursey’s breathing to slow and then the floor creaks and Nursey knows he’s gone and wishes he’d held on just a little bit longer--
“Nursey, what’s wrong?”
Nursey shakes his head again. He means to say nothing, he means to say, I’m going to bed, he means to-- “Amanda, she--”
The concern turns to alarm. Why can’t Nursey ever make it better? “Is she alright? Did you see her? Is she okay?”
Nursey shakes his head again. He can’t seem to stop doing that. “She’s fine, she--she--” He swallows, and it’s sticky, cloying, citrusy and sweet on the back of his tongue. “She--there was this girl, she-- Amanda, she--”
Dex won’t stop frowning, concern knitting his eyebrows together with three short wrinkles, and Nursey has wanted to smooth them out with his fingertips every time he sees them since sophomore year, and he shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t be telling Dex this while he’s drunk, shouldn’t be telling Dex this at all, but he’s Nursey’s friend first and Nursey has to believe he’d tell Dex regardless of the love thing, he must--
“She was kissing some girl. In the Psi-U basement.”
The wrinkles smooth out. The amusement returns. Nursey--he can’t make sense of it over the ringing in his ears. Why is Dex smiling? Did--did Nursey do that?
“Did she look like a lawyer?” he asks, and at Nursey’s confusion clarifies, “The girl Amanda was kissing. Did she look like a lawyer?” Nursey nods dumbly. Dex’s smile only grows. Nursey is so, so confused and also more in love than he’s ever been. “Finally. I just won fifty bucks.”
What the fuck. “What the fuck.”
Dex laughs--laughs. “The girl’s name is Tammy. She graduated last year and moved to Boston. Amanda’s been in love with her forever, and I bet her that she’d get with Tammy before I--” Flush appears high on Dex’s cheeks, the soft pink one that means embarrassment and Nursey imagines would taste like cherry pie against his lips.
Nursey is--still quite a bit drunk. He needs--clarification. “You--you bet your girlfriend that she would get with her friend at a frat party?”
Dex’s nose scrunches up in Nursey’s favorite way--the same way it does when he’s trying to write humanities essays, the reason Nursey always says yes when Dex asks for help. “Girlfriend? Did you think Amanda was my girlfriend?”
Nursey remembers the start, hearing about Amanda every other day, then every day, then it was, sorry I can’t come, I’m meeting Amanda at-- and then one day at Annie’s, a girl with blue hair and a sharp grin yelled Babe! from across the room and planted a kiss on Dex’s cheek, her hand lingering on his shoulder, sipping from his coffee cup, getting him to smile like that--
“Well, yeah.” Nursey’s head is spinning and, for the first time tonight, not from the gin. “Is she--is she not?”
“Oh God, no, she’s so fucking gay, dude.” Laughter twinkles in Dex’s eyes. Nursey is drunker than he’s been since freshmen year of high school when Shitty snuck in some of his dad’s hard liquor and the janitors found them on the roof singing Disney songs at the moon. Dex’s girlfriend is gay. Dex’s girlfriend isn’t his girlfriend. Dex is--is smiling at him like he smiles at his girlfriend who isn’t his girlfriend.
“Oh,” Nursey says, dazed, “chill.”
“Oh wow,” Dex grins, leaning into the doorframe, “I can’t believe you thought--and you thought telling me my girlfriend was cheating on me at 3am while shit-drunk was a good idea?”
Nursey says, “Hey, honesty is important, and I’m not--” He stops. He remembers something. He squints. “Wait. If you bet 50 bucks on Amanda getting with Tammy, who did Amanda bet you would get with?”
The cherry pie blush is back. Nursey takes an absent-minded step forward. The room feels so much lighter now that Dex’s girlfriend isn’t cheating on him. The distance between them feels so much sillier now that Dex doesn’t have a girlfriend.
“Ah, well.” Dex rubs at the back of his neck, all country bumpkin sheepish to ask his sweetheart to the dance, and--and--
“I’m the sweetheart,” Nursey realizes with the kind of crystal clarity only afforded by the most copious amounts of alcohol.
Dex’s eyebrows furrow, those sweet little wrinkles appearing between them, and Nursey takes two long strides forward and presses his thumb into them. Dex goes cross-eyed trying to watch, but moves his eyes to meet Nursey’s after a moment.
Nursey grins, likely a bit sloppy from the gin, but he can’t find it in himself to care at the moment. “I’m the sweetheart,” he repeats, beaming.
Dex tries to repress the smile at his lips. “You’re not a sweetheart.”
“Yes I am,” Nursey sings, listing forwards. “You like me.”
“You’re an asshole.” Dex’s smile grows. Nursey watches its progress and sways.
“They’re not mutually exclusive,” he says, tracking the pink lips as they spread, revealing teeth and--and tongue and--
“I hate that you can still say mutually exclusive when you’re this drunk.”
“I’m not that drunk.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhmm. See, I’ll prove it.”
“How do you plan on--”
If Dex’s mouth weren’t so preoccupied, he might say that the taste on Nursey’s tongue is a good indication that he is in fact fairly tipsy, but as it is--well. He’s got other things to do.
(Amanda asserts that they tied since it happened on the same night and only pays $25. Tammy throws in five more and a condom and they call it even. Nursey kisses away Dex’s protest and pockets the condom, much to Amanda’s amusement. Turns out, she’s even cooler when she isn’t dating the love of Nursey’s life.)
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jamaisjoons · 5 years ago
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love alive ⤑ jjk | m.
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⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦:〝 a year after you and jungkook break up, the two of you meet at your brother’s party. 〞post break up au. exes to lovers au.
❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: jungkook x reader
❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: angst ⋆ fluff ⋆ smut
❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 17k
⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: mentions of alcohol, swearing, so much angst, pining? i guess, they’re both broken up but still love each other so there’s that lmao, reader emotionally cheats a fair amount, dom!jungkook, big cock!jungkook, sub!reader, pussy eating, hair pulling, fingering, dirty talk, this was supposed to be soft sex but idk what happened, okay it’s kinda soft but also feral, tender feral sex, aka the seraphjoon vibe, unprotected sex, riding, creampie, multiple orgasms
➵ 𝑎/𝑛: YEEEHAW LOOK I DID SOMETHING !! i had sudden inspo for this fic and while it HURTS it doesn’t hurt too bad i dont think. anyway, i hope you enjoy it but its like 3am so i’m going to bed now hawyeet
⇥ part of the mixtape series
⏤ edited by my wonderful beta @shadowsremedy​
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One late Friday evening, Jungkook finds himself in his apartment. He’s currently sat on the sofa, simply staring off into space as he waits for his date to return. Jungkook doesn’t really remember much about her, they’d just been to dinner and try as he might, he just hadn’t been able to focus on the conversation. One reason being none other than it had been a completely stilted conversation - first dates were always awkward - but paired with the fact he barely knows her, and that he’d been on about seventeen different first dates in the last three months, he’d found himself unable to really keep the conversation going.
Of course, the second - and more major - reason, would be that she’s not you.
But Jungkook would rather not think about that right now.
“Do you have any wine?” Jungkook’s date calls out. Breaking out of his daze, Jungkook’s eyes come back into focus as he trains his attention back onto her. Eyebrows slightly furrowed, he scrambles for her name. Jiha? Jihyo? Jihye! That’s it. Jihye looks at him expectantly, waiting for his answer.
“Uh, maybe. I don’t know,” comes Jungkook’s distracted answer, “there may be some in the bottom cupboard on the left-hand side,” he continues nonchalantly - not really thinking about it. He thinks he remembers seeing an open bottle there, but again, he doesn’t drink wine all that often so he doesn’t really care. He watches Jihye rummage around in his kitchen, her short black dress riding further up the backs of her thighs - and Jungkook knows he should feel some sort of attraction towards her - she’s incredibly beautiful - not to mention her body’s practically perfect - and yet, he feels… nothing.
Why is he on a date with her again? Oh yes, because she frequented the same gym as he did and had asked him out randomly earlier in the week. Jungkook lets out a little sigh, his head falls back onto the back of the sofa. Staring up at the ceiling, his mind casts back to all the dates he’s had recently. Most of them approach him and he doesn’t really know why he keeps saying yes - but he has an inkling it’s to do with the fact that he’s still not over you. Though, that doesn’t really matter.
You’re long gone, and the last Jungkook had heard about you, was that you’d met someone else - someone willing to give you more than he could - someone willing to give you what you want. His heart constraints at the thought of you, but he shakes the thoughts out of his head. He needs to move on - it’s been long enough. Almost a year. Well, it’s been exactly seven months, twenty-three days and nine hours since you walked out on him, but who’s keeping count? Certainly not him.
“Oh! I found some. It’s already open - do you mind if I have some?” Jihye asks, and reflexively, Jungkook finds himself rolling his eyes. If he hadn’t wanted her to have some, he wouldn’t have told her where the wine was. Biting his tongue, however, Jungkook just lets out a non-committal hum. Once done pouring herself a glass of wine, Jihye returns to him while taking a sip of her wine. Suddenly, she stops, her face twisting in disgusting as she spits her wine back into her glass. Own features twisting in disgust, Jungkook regards her through guarded eyes, wondering what was going on.
“Gross! Why does this wine have pieces of cork in it? Also, I think it’s gone off - it tastes weird,” Jihye gripes as she takes her glass back into his kitchen. Barely paying attention to her words, Jungkook stares in unsettlement at the bottle. The dark green glass glints under the warm kitchen lights, his heart lurching as he recognises the bottle.
With unfocused eyes, he stares at the bottle, unmoving as his mind buzzes with what feels like static. Hazily, he registers that Jihye is speaking, but through the thick fog of his memories, Jungkook’s mind barely notices what she’s saying. Nonetheless, the exact moment Jihye begins tilting the bottle over the sink, attempting to flush its contents, Jungkook jumps to his feet.
“No! Don’t throw it out,” Jungkook’s voice thunders, his long legs carrying him into the kitchen swiftly. Jihye startles, looking at him in dumbfounded incredulity.
“What? Why? It’s got pieces of cork in it, and it tastes funny,” Jihye replies, turning back and beginning to pour the wine again. Abruptly, Jungkook snatches the bottle out of her hand, causing Jihye to jump.
“It’s not off, it just tastes like that. It’s bad wine,” Jungkook mutters as he puts the stopper back in the neck of the bottle.
“All the more reason to throw it out?” Jihye suggests, Jungkook’s jaw flexing at her words.
“I’m not throwing it out,” Jungkook replies, his voice hardened. Jihye cocks an eyebrow at him.
“Come on Jungkook, I think you should throw it out,” Jihye says coyly, a smile crawling onto her face. Imperceptibly, Jungkook’s eyes narrow. The flirtatiousness in her demeanour isn’t lost on him, nor is the fact that she likely thinks he’s joking. But Jungkook isn’t joking. He’s not throwing the wine out - whether it has pieces of cork in it, whether it tastes bad, or even if it had been off, he’s not throwing it out.
“No,” Jungkook says, his voice full of resolve. Jihye startles as she realises he’s not being playful. She raises her eyebrow once again, cocking her hip to the side.
“What’s so special about it? It’s just a bottle of wine,” Jihye points out. Of course, to anyone, it would be just a bottle of wine - but to him, it’s so much more.
It’s the last thing he has left of you.
When you’d broken up with him, ending your five-year relationship, you’d moved everything out of his apartment. The stupid cushions Jungkook hated - really, they only took up more space on the sofa, meaning he couldn’t lounge about properly - your hundred and one towels, even the sheets: the ones that had smelled like you. They’re all gone, along with all your clothes and belongings, leaving a half-empty apartment, and a hole in Jungkook’s heart. Every and any trace of you had slowly been removed from his flat and consequently his life. And now, he’s left with just this bottle of wine. - the one you’d forgotten about because it’d been hidden at the back of the cupboard.
“Jungkook? Are you listening to me? What’s so great about this bottle?” Jihye asks. Once again, however, Jungkook’s mind wanders to you. Unable to pull away from the bottle, Jihye fades from the world, her voice becoming distant and hazy as he recedes back into his memories.
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Flashback - three years ago
A knock resounding at Jungkook’s door, he takes a deep breath. Looking at himself in the mirror one last time, he brushes the non-existent lint off his blazer. Then, running his fingers through his hair, he nods at himself and leaves his bedroom. Approaching the door, he swings it open, a large smile painted on his face as he spots you.
“Hello, beautiful,” Jungkook greets the moment he spots you. However, the moment he actually sees you, he finds himself stopping. Dressed in a flowing sundress, a dazzling smile on your face and bright, twinkling eyes - you look positively radiant. A loud whoosh of air escapes his nose, his eyes softening at you, “you look gorgeous,” he breathlessly says, his voice low.
Your smile brightening, you grin up at him, “Happy third anniversary!” you call out cheerily. Jungkook bites his lip, and unable to stop himself, swoops down and presses a kiss to your lips.
“Happy anniversary,” he mutters back, his lips brushing yours with every movement. Pulling your lower lip between your teeth, you chew on it while giving him a smile. Even three years into your relationship, Jungkook still managed to set butterflies aflutter in the pits of your stomach with the slightest touch.
Swiftly, you step into his apartment, easily navigating your way towards his kitchen as you place the bags of food and wine onto his counter. “Are you sure you don’t want to go out?” you ask curiously, peering at your boyfriend through the corner of your eyes.
However, Jungkook only steps up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist, “Nope!” he happily replies, popping the ‘p’ sound, “you said you’d rather just have a quiet night in. Besides, we went out for the cruise-ship dinner thing last year,” Jungkook continues, humming in thought at the memory. A smile curls on your own lips and you twist in his arms, winding your own around his waist as you place your head on his chest.
“Mmm, that was a good anniversary. But if I remember correctly, someone ended up being seasick from drinking too much,” you say pointedly, tilting your head to look up at him, your chin resting on his sternum. Despite his cheeks flushing a rosy shade, Jungkook scowls.
“It’s not my fault… the alcohol was stronger than I thought it was,” he mumbles under his breath. You shake your head in fondness, but then, your lips curl into a slight frown. Every anniversary, Jungkook had taken you somewhere - your first, he’d taken you on a ski trip, your second, he’d taken you on a weekend break to Jeju island, and of course, your third had been a cruise-ship dinner. This year, however, you’d been recently promoted to the department head of your company, but that had meant additional stress and weight to an already heavy workload. As a result, you’d asked Jungkook if he was okay with just a quiet night in - because there was nothing you wanted more than to just spend some time with your loving boyfriend.
“Are you sure this is okay? If you want to go out or something, we still can,” you ask. However, Jungkook only shakes his head once again while pulling you closer into him.
“Sweetheart, it’s okay. Honestly. I just want to spend some time with you. Whether that’s here in my apartment, or in yours, or on an expensive date, or even in a garbage dump, it doesn’t matter. I just want to be with you,” Jungkook grins before smacking a sloppy kiss on your forehead. Face twisting in disgust, your earlier doubt about Jungkook being happy with your choice of date fades away, and you playfully smack him before pushing him away.
“Ew gross! You just slobbered all over me,” you gripe, rubbing the wet spot on your forehead.
Waggling his eyebrows, “and there’s more where that came from,” Jungkook playfully teases. A light snort escapes your lips as you shake your head before turning around.
“Yeah, whatever. I bought wine and steak for dinner. It’s not much but I don’t know, I felt like being classy,” you casually shrug while turning to the bag of groceries Jungkook hadn’t noticed. Head cocked to the side, he grimaces at the bottle of wine. Suddenly, you stop, your lips curling in a frown, “Although… in hindsight, I should have bought more food - knowing your bottomless stomach,” you sigh, looking at him from the corner of your eye.
“Yeah, you probably should have,” Jungkook deadpans. Lips twisting into a pout, your shoulders deflate at his words. Jungkook sees your disappointment, his heart dropping in his chest at the thought of upsetting you. He’d meant it as a joke - really, he had - but you’d clearly taken it seriously. Stepping up to you, Jungkook wraps his arms around your waist once again, his chin resting on your shoulder and hands clasps around your belly.
“I was only joking, sweetheart,” Jungkook says lowly, his face nuzzling into your hair while he presses a kiss to the outer shell of your ear. “Wine and steak sound good. Very classy,” he continues, pressing another kiss to your flesh - this time the column of your throat.
Instantly, your lips curl into a victorious smirk, “Okay, great!” you say, your shoulders immediately perking up. Jungkook blinks at your sudden change in demeanour, his nose scrunching when he realises what’s just happened.
“Hey! Did you do that on purpose?” he asks, his eyes narrowing into slits, his gaze full of accusation. Face twisting into a picture of innocence, you smile at him coyly - and if he didn’t know you as well as he did, he’d buy it - but Jungkook sees the sparkle of mischief in your eyes.
Before he can open his mouth, however, you’re already cutting him off, “Where’s your corkscrew?” you ask, rummaging through his drawers. Jungkook watches you search through the utensils, your lips curling downwards in concentration.
His own lips twisting, Jungkook approaches you, helping you look for the corkscrew. However, after a few moments, “Oh. I don’t think I have one,” Jungkook finally says. Eyebrows furrowing slightly, Jungkook wonders if he ever even bought one, but he doesn’t think he has.
“Kook! How are we supposed to drink this now?” you whine, a pout forming on your face again. Shrugging, Jungkook whips out his phone.
“I’m sure we can like, find another way,” Jungkook replies, already googling a way to open the wine bottle. Curiously, you peer over his shoulder, Jungkook’s arm instinctively wrapping around you as he scrolls with one hand. Head tilting upwards, you smile at your boyfriend, his features slightly scrunched in concentration. Unable to help yourself, you lean up and press a kiss to the bottom of his jaw. The moment your lips brush his skin, the corners of Jungkook’s lips twitch before he twists his head and presses a kiss to the temple of your head.
Arms wrapping around his waist, you lean your head on his bicep, “find anything yet?” you ask, Jungkook humming in response.
“We could use a blowtorch,” he replies casually.
“Do you have a blowtorch?”
“Fair enough. We could smack it against the wall using something to cushion it.”
“And risk breaking the bottle? No thanks.” Like that, Jungkook continues reading out suggestions: from pumping it out using a bicycle tire pump, all the way to slapping it out with a shoe, only for you to refute them. Eventually, however, with no other option, you and Jungkook eventually try using a screwdriver. Which brings you to now, almost fifteen minutes later.
“Oh my god, I think I’ve got it,” Jungkook yells in triumph. You’re currently sat on the kitchen island, your legs dangling as you watch your boyfriend struggle with the bottle. About five minutes after attempting to open the bottle, you’d conceded defeat. Your boyfriend, however, is much more competitive than you are, and he’d downright refused to let the bottle win. Thus, for the last ten minutes, you’d watched your boyfriend futilely dig, and twist, the screwdriver into the cork.
Quirking your eyebrow at your boyfriend, your eyes rove over him. He’s currently stood with a victorious grin, the apples of his cheeks bunched up around his eyes. He’s holding out the wine bottle, the metal head of the screwdriver stuck into the neck of the bottle. Hell, the cork isn’t even in one piece anymore - bits and pieces of it littered on the floor around him from where Jungkook had dug it out in an attempt to bury the screwdriver into the wood stopper.
“Have you now?” you drawl sarcastically. It certainly doesn’t look like he’s got it. For one, the cork is still in the bottle.
Sneering at your snide tone, “Watch this!” Jungkook calls out, and then, grabbing the handle of the tool, he pulls as hard as he can. A loud pop resounds through the air and you startle slightly, watching as Jungkook holds the screwdriver - with half the cork attached to it - in the air.
“Oh my god! You did it!” you call in surprise, jumping off the table and walking towards him.
Puffing out his chest, “and you didn’t believe in me! But I did it anyway,” Jungkook says proudly.
You roll your eyes before gesturing to the half-broken cork, “yeah barely.”
“Tomato, tomato. Potato, potato. The point is, I did it, and we can have wine now” Jungkook replies. With another roll of your eyes, you cross his kitchen and pull two wine glasses out of his cupboard.
“Yeah, yeah. My knight in shining suit. Now come on! I’ve literally been waiting twenty-five minutes to drink this,” you say, holding out the glasses towards him. Nodding, Jungkook pours the wine, filling the tumblers halfway before placing the bottle back on the island.
He takes the glasses from your hand, placing them on the dining table and you follow him, placing the plates of food onto the table. The two of you take seats opposite each other, Jungkook raising his glass towards you in a salute. For a few moments, the two of you tuck into your food, the muffled sounds of your joint chewing filling the air.
Then, “this steak is cold,” you grumble, a grimace settling on your face. In hindsight, after spending all that time trying to open the wine, the two of you should have heated your food - but in the triumph of actually opening the wine, you’d both forgotten.
“Yeah, and this wine is fucking gross,” Jungkook gripes, his own features twisting in disgust. Blinking owlishly, you reach for your own glass, sipping the burgundy liquid. The minute it washes over your tastebuds, you find yourself gagging. It’s sour - the acrid stench of it only burning your nasal cavity and intensifying the bitterness of the wine.
Forcibly, you swallow it down before spitting and sputtering into your hand, “yeah, and it’s got pieces of cork in it. Gross, what a waste of a hundred and fifty thousand won,” you scowl. Immediately, Jungkook baulks.
“A hundred and fifty thousand won? For that trash?” Jungkook yells in incredulity. You look at him in surprise, the two of you simply staring at each other. Then, all of a sudden, the two of you burst out laughing. Neither of you has any real reason for why you’re both laughing. Perhaps it was the ridiculous price of the incredibly poortasting wine, perhaps it was that Jungkook had spent a good fifteen minutes struggling with said wine or perhaps it was because even after all that struggle, neither of you could stomach the taste. Either way, the absurdity of the situation isn’t lost on either of you, and you both can’t help but laugh hysterically.
“Man, I can’t believe you spent that much money on that shit,” Jungkook giggles, wiping away at his tears.
Lower lip pulled between your teeth, you grin at Jungkook, “I can’t believe you spent so much time trying to open it,” you quip. Shaking your heads, you both resume eating your food, forgoing the wine.
Once the two of you are done, you help Jungkook clear the table. Jungkook watches you throw out the leftovers before placing the plates into the sink. The kitchen lights are dimmed low, the amber light reflecting off of your skin and silhouetting you in its glow. The bright walls off his kitchen only help to highlight your body, the hem of your dress swishing around your thighs with every movement. His darkened, lust-filled gaze rakes over you and he can’t help but swallow thickly when his eyes rest on the smooth curve of your ass.
Helpless against his desire for you, you feel Jungkook’s arms wrap around your body. Loosely, his hands rest on your hips, the pads of his fingertips gently digging into your flesh. “Do you wanna head to bed?” Jungkook asks, his voice breathy as he begins peppering kisses along the column of your neck. You raise your eyebrow at his sudden change in demeanour. Nevertheless, you’d be lying if you said his light, attentive touch wasn’t clouding your head in hazy lust.
“All of a sudden?” you ask, your tone light and teasing. Jungkook responds by digging his fingers harder into your hips, pulling them back so your ass is flush against his crotch.
“If I’m being honest, I’ve wanted to get you out of this dress as soon as I saw you in it. You look beautiful. I love you so much,” Jungkook rasps in response, lightly nipping at the sensitive flesh just below your earlobe. Twisting in his hold, you wind your hands around his neck, carding your fingers through his hair at the back of his nape before lightly playing with the locks.
“I love you too,” you breathe out, “take me to bed and I’ll show you how much,” you breathlessly whisper back. A shuddering exhale escaping his lips, Jungkook’s mouth descends onto yours. Instantly, the two of you lose yourselves into each other; the wine bottle long forgotten.
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“Jungkook? Are you even paying attention to me?” Jihye suddenly calls out, her hands waving in front of his face. Blinking blankly, Jungkook’s vision comes back into focus. He looks around his apartment - it’s still the same as it was two years ago. The kitchen lights are still low, and his walls are bright, and that same bottle of wine sits on his marble counter - practically mocking him - but you’re not here. It’s not you standing in his kitchen.
“I- you need to leave,” Jungkook chokes out, his voice hoarse and his throat thick with emotion. Jihye looks at him in dumbfounded bewilderment. She opens her mouth to argue, but then stops, her words dying on her lips. Taking in Jungkook’s distant gaze, Jihye notices his attention is once again on the bottle. With a scoff, she rolls her eyes before snorting. Then, grabbing her purse, she stalks out of his apartment - but not before slamming the door.
Jungkook doesn’t care.
Instead, he stares at the dark bottle of wine. His reflection glints back at him, his distorted face mirroring the despair and sadness etched onto his face. Once again, he loses himself into his memories. Memories of when the two of you were still together, memories of you smiling at him, of you kissing him, memories of the two of you, when you were both happy - and together. But not anymore. Now, those memories that he’d once cherished - once taken for granted - are tainted: bruised and tarnished with the restless memories of you leaving; of you walking out of this very same apartment and leaving him all alone.
The warm memories that had once been his saving grace, now leave him cold, with a deep ache in his chest.
With one final glance at the bottle, Jungkook buries his head in his hands, and then lets out a heartwrenching sob.
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In the comfort of your own home, you lie in your bed, staring up into nothingness. The bedroom is completely bathed in darkness, not even a single sliver of moonlight peeking in through the blackout-blinds you had installed. After your third anniversary with Jungkook, you’d moved in with him, and your ex-boyfriend had hated any and every inkling of light while he was trying to sleep. He simply couldn’t sleep unless he was in complete darkness. Of course, after two years of living with him, you’d also gotten used to it - and now, you aren’t able to sleep without complete darkness either.
Yet, you still aren’t able to sleep. There are many reasons for your lack of sleep. Many of them are to do with your ex-boyfriend. It’s been just over half a year since you and Jungkook broke up. Almost eight months now since you walked out of his life. Eight months since you reluctantly broke off your five-year relationships. But you had no choice. You and Jungkook had wanted different things in life and though heartbreaking, you knew it was best for the two of you to go your separate ways then and there.
Of course, knowing that didn’t make it any easier. Nor does it help qualm the crushing bitterness, nor the misery, you feel at Jungkook’s absence in your life.
Though, you figure, those feelings are a given. After all, the two of you had been together for five whole years. Five years is a long time to spend with someone - and for the entirety of those years, Jungkook had been your one and only - the man you had loved with your entire heart. The man you still love with all your heart. It’s not like you could just forget five years of love in a day - nor in eight months. Hell, you don’t think you could forget him, nor the love you feel for him, in your entire lifetime.
Thus, in the absolute dark of your bedroom, you stare up at the ceiling. Though, you don’t really see it. No, all you see is darkness. A low sigh escapes your lips and you shift on your bed, trying to find a comfortable position. But try as you might, you simply can’t find one. And it has every reason to do with the man occupying your bed - if you remove your residual feelings for Jungkook out of the picture. Tilting your head slightly, you turn to your side. Even in the darkness, you can make out the obscure outline of your current boyfriend’s - though you use that term loosely, because really, he’s a family friend you’ve known a while and your mother had set you up with - face as he snores lightly. With another sigh, you turn your head back to stare at the ceiling.
Other than thoughts of Jungkook, one of the main reasons you can’t sleep is: you’re on the wrong side of the bed. For as long as you’d been with Jungkook, even before you lived together, Jungkook had always slept on the left, and you’d slept on the right. It wasn’t like you’d purposely decided on that, it’s just how it had worked out. Jungkook always slept on the left, and you on the right - before the two of you had even met. And after you’d met? Well, it had just clicked - as if the two of you were made for each other.
But now, you’re on the left.
And Minhyuk is on the right.
And it’s not right. Nor does it feel right. In more than one sense of the word.
Shifting once again, you lowly groan when a sting of pain shoots through your lower abdomen, bringing you to another reason you can’t sleep. You’re on your period, and with your period, comes the cursed cramps. No matter how much you try, you simply can’t seem to find a comfortable position to lie in. That, paired with the fact that you’re on the wrong side of the bed, and the plaguing thoughts of Jungkook, has insomnia gripping at your head. Momentarily, you’d considered getting up and heating up a hot water bottle to soothe your pain, but you simply can’t find it in yourself to get out of bed - not when moving only seemed to fuel the fire in the pits of your uterus.
Once again, you turn to Minhyuk. Briefly, you consider waking him up and asking him to bring you the hot water bottle, and you even open your mouth to call him. But then, you pause, the words dying on your lips as your throat constricts. This scene is almost too familiar to you, and in the dark of your bedroom, you can’t stop your mind from wandering to the past.
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Flashback - two years ago
Shifting uncomfortably, you’re woken from your sleep by the searing pain in your lower abdomen. Through the haze of your sleep, you let out quiet whimpers and continue shuffling in bed, trying to find a comfortable position to fall back asleep in. However, try as you might, you simply can’t seem to find one. This time, when you shift again, you feel Jungkook’s arm lazily wrap around you.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Jungkook asks while shuffling closer towards him. His words cause you to still, your shoulders relaxing as you feel his warm presence surround you. Your boyfriend moves his head to just over your shoulder, his hand sluggishly rubbing circles over your stomach. He nudges your t-shirt to the side - really, it’s his - and presses a tender kiss to the skin of your shoulder that he’s just exposed. Before you can even say anything, or alert him to exactly what is wrong, “do you have bad cramps again?” he sighs out. Despite your pain, you find your face softening, a soft smile curling on your lips at the sleepy tone of his voice.
“Yeah. Sorry, I didn’t wanna wake you up,” you reply lowly. Jungkook only shakes his head, his long hair tickling the flesh of your collarbone.
“Tis okay,” Jungkook slurs sleepily. Then, before you can tell him to go back to sleep, Jungkook is already crawling out of bed. You hear a loud thud, followed by a pained groan, “I’m okay. I just- didn’t see the end of the bed,” Jungkook mumbles through the haziness of his sleep. Instantly, his words cause concern to well up in your chest, however, before you can ask him if he’s okay, he’s leaving your bedroom.
Left alone, you flick the lamp on your bedside table on and sit up in bed with a wince. You take in short, deep breath, trying your best to soothe the vengeful cramps in the pit of your stomach. If you didn’t know better, you’d almost think your uterus was tying itself into knots. Another sharp sting and you let out a low whimper, doubling over in pain as you clutch your stomach.
Moments later, you feel a hand soothingly rub your lower back as your boyfriend - now more awake - crouches down beside your side of the bed. Large, doe eyes stare at you in concern as he passes you your hot water bottle. “Here you go, baby,” Jungkook says softly, placing the fuzzy bottle on your lower stomach. The warm heat instantly soothes your cramps, a sigh of relief escaping your lips as you feel the pain begin to subside.
“Thank you,” you rasp out, but Jungkook only shakes his head. Then, he thrusts his hand and a glass in front of your face.
When you quirk your eyebrow at him, “painkillers,” Jungkook merely responds. Your face crumples, your heart speeding up in your chest. Gratefully, you accept the pills from him, popping them in your mouth before chugging down the glass of water. When you’re done, Jungkook takes the glass from your hand and places it back onto your bedside table. Once done, he helps you shift back down into a laying position as he tucks you into bed. Then, he crawls under the sheets himself.
You feel the left side of the bed shift before Jungkook slides in. Rolling closer to you, he presses his chest against your back while throwing an arm to rest loosely over your waist. Lazily, he rubs his hand over your hips, soothingly massaging the skin while pressing tender kisses to the back of your shoulder. “Are you feeling better?” Jungkook mumbles. His voice is low, heavy with sleep, and you can’t help but shudder as it reverberates through your eardrum.
“Mmm. Much better. Thank you,” you whisper back, more than grateful at his thoughtful gestures. If there was one thing you absolutely adored about Jungkook, it would be his utter thoughtfulness. More often than not, you just wouldn’t need to tell him what was wrong; after almost four years together, he could simply read you like a book. He knew what you wanted and when you wanted it. He knew when to leave you alone, or when to help you. He could read your moods as if he was well versed in all things that surrounded you. More than anything, however, Jungkook was simply empathetic towards you - and it made you fall for him all the more.
“I love you,” you whisper, the words easily falling from your lips. You feel Jungkook’s lips curl against your shoulder, an indolent smile playing at his lips.
Without even a moment of hesitation, “I love you too,” he mumbles back. Then, the two of you fall back into silence: with you clutching the hot water bottle to your uterus, and Jungkook genially rubbing circles into the flesh of your hips.
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Another sharp pain ricochets through your uterus, pulling you out of your reverie. A low whimper escapes your throat and you shift in bed again. However, unlike Jungkook, Minhyuk stays fast asleep. Once again, you contemplate waking him up and you don’t want to, but the pain is almost too much. Before you can stop yourself, “Minhyuk?” you whimper out while gently shaking him.
Minhyuk lets out a groggy groan before, “what’s wrong, ____?” he asks, his voice heavily laden with sleep.
“C-can you go into the kitchen and get me my hot water bottle, please? I’ve got really bad cramps,” you whisper hoarsely. Minhyuk only groans in response.
“____… I’ve got to wake up for work in three hours. Can you not get it yourself?” Minhyuk asks sleepily. There’s no malice in his tone, nor upset or anger, just drowsy question - and you know he doesn’t mean anything by it - but still, you can’t help the way your stomach drops at his words. Biting your lip, you suck in a sharp breath, the movement making you whimper in pain again. Clearly, Minhyuk hears the sound escape your lips, because he’s sliding out of bed - albeit begrudgingly - and leaving your bedroom.
Five minutes later, he walks back and passes you the hot water bottle. With a small voice, you thank him, Minhyuk grunting in response. The right side of the mattress tilts and you feel Minhyuk slide back into bed. “Goodnight,” Minhyuk mumbles, though you can tell he’s already falling asleep again. Briefly, he pecks your cheek before turning his back towards you. Short moments later, his light snores fill the quiet air of the night, leaving you alone once again.
Chewing your lip, you place the hot water bottle onto your stomach, allowing the warm, soothing sensation to assuage the pain of your cramps. Your mind casts back to Jungkook, and the way he took care of you on nights like this, and then you turn to Minhyuk once again. You can still feel his lips on your cheek - from where he’d kissed you - but it’s not the same. Minhyuk is nice, and though reluctantly, he still got out of bed to get you your water bottle.
But it’s not the same.
It’s not the same when he kisses you on the cheek, or brings you your water bottle. It’s not the same when he buys you flowers, or takes you out to dinner. It’s not the same when he kisses you, or when you sleep together. It’s not the same, because while nice, all of his gestures are empty. There’s no love in them, no thoughtfulness, no passion. Minhyuk is nice - and he does things out of nicety - but he also does them out of obligation.
And it’s not the same.
Because there is no love in them.
Because he’s not Jungkook.
Because he won’t ever be.
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A month and a half later, you find yourself nervously staring at the brass-gold number plates of your brother’s apartment. You haven’t seen Hoseok in a few months - well, nine months to be exact. Nine months on this day. Wow. It’s really been nine months since you broke up with Jungkook, huh? It definitely feels like it’s been longer. If anything, it feels like an eternity. Though, you suppose, it must, since you’d gone from spending almost every day with him to suddenly not seeing him. It had been hard, and multiple times, you’ve wondered if you should just go back - but you know you can’t. You’d broken up for reasons - serious reasons - reasons that had meant a lot to you.
All these months, you’ve tried avoiding him as best as you could. Anything and everything that was within your power, you had done: from avoiding all of your friends because they reminded you too much of him, to moving to a different part of the city just to avoid running into him by chance. It had been hard, and god had it hurt - stillhurts - but you knew you had to do it. But now, standing in front of your brother’s apartment, you know you can no longer run from him anymore. Today is Hoseok’s birthday - and you know he’d be heartbroken if you didn’t turn up.
But you also know Jungkook will be here - because there’s no way Hoseok hadn’t invited him.
Funnily enough, you’d met Jungkook because of Hoseok. The two of them had met at the swimming club in your university, and the two had gotten along well. At first, you’d been fearful of admitting to Hoseok that you were seeing Jungkook - but to your utter surprise, your older brother just hadn’t cared. He liked Jungkook and he trusted Jungkook to treat you right - and he had. For five years, Jungkook had been the best, sweetest, most perfect boyfriend anyone could have asked for. Until that day. That fateful day, nine months ago, when you’d walked out of his apartment - and consequently his life.
“____? You okay?” Minhyuk asks, waving his hand in front of your space. Pulled out of your thoughts, you stare at your boyfriend - though once again, you use the term loosely. Minhyuk stares at you in confusion before gesturing to the door. The very same door you’d been blankly staring at while reminiscing about your brother and boyfriend. Looking at Minhyuk, you can’t help the way your stomach tosses at the sight of him.
Momentarily, you wonder what Hoseok would say. Hoseok absolutely adored Jungkook - to the point where you’d find your brother cuddling with your boyfriend, or kissing his forehead. You shudder just thinking about it. That had been a funny day. One day, you’d decided to surprise your boyfriend by spontaneously turning up at his apartment. However, to your utter surprise, you’d turned up just to see your boyfriend and your brother snuggling while watching Netflix. Sure, it was a cute sight, and ordinarily, you would have been touched. If it weren’t for the fact that your brother was cuddling your boyfriend.
So yes, suffice to say the least, Hoseok absolutely loved Jungkook - and throughout your entire relationship, he’d completely rooted and supported the two of you. Even when you and Jungkook would fight, even when you’d drive each other crazy, Hoseok would speak to the both of you and calm you down and make you see reason. Reason being that you both loved each other. Which is why, dread settles in your stomach as you stare blankly at Minhyuk. Once again, you wonder what Hoseok would say. You know he knows that you’re seeing Minhyuk - your mother has to have told him.
But knowing and seeing are two different things and you have no idea how he’ll react to Minhyuk. You love your brother, you really, really do - but Hoseok has a bad habit of not being able to bite his tongue - and that paired with the fact that he absolutely loved Jungkook - and still does - has trepidation settling deep within your stomach. It doesn’t help that it’s so soon after you and Jungkook broke up either. Nor does it help that Hoseok already knows Minhyuk - he is the son of your mother’s friend after all. But you’re twenty-seven now and you’re not getting any younger and you have to move on with your life. Whether that be with Jungkook or not. Though, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t completely distraught that it turned out to be without your sweet boyfriend. Or well, ex-boyfriend, you remind yourself.
Once again, Minhyuk looks at you expectantly. Drawing in every ounce of courage you can muster, you take in a deep breath and then knock on your brother’s door. You don’t know how long it takes Hoseok to answer. Realistically, you know it’s only mere moments - but that doesn’t stop it feeling like an excruciating eternity.
The moment Hoseok’s door swings open, you’re met with the sight of your brother. Smiling shyly at him, you awkwardly wave, “Hey Hobi,” you greet. However, Hoseok isn’t looking at you. No, he’s looking at the taller man stood next to you. Shuffling from foot to foot, your gaze flits back and forth from your brother to Minhyuk. Minhyuk for the most of it, looks a little lost and unsure of himself or what to say. Oppositely, your brother simply stares at Minhyuk, looking him up and down, his face a picture of passiveness and his usually warm gaze completely guarded.
“H-Hobi?” you choke out, clearing your throat as you try to get your brother’s attention. Hoseok blinks for a minute and then turns to you.
Momentarily, he regards you with his passive gaze before his lips quirk, and then suddenly, he’s beaming and pulling you into a hug. “____! I’ve missed you!” you brother practically screams, and despite the slight wince as he almost bursts your eardrums, you find yourself letting out a breath of air you hadn’t even known you’d been holding. The minute your brother envelops you in his arms, you feel yourself getting choked up - you’d missed his warmth. You’d desperately craved his affection when you’d broken up with Jungkook, but you had no idea what to say to him - or even how to approach him.
“Come on in. It’s a pretty quiet thing. There’s booze and snacks in the kitchen just help yourself to it, music’s mainly in the living room if you just wanna chill but if you need somewhere more quiet, the balcony or spare bedroom are available. ____ will tell you where to hang up your coats,” Hoseok says, smiling at Minhyuk. You bite your lip at Hoseok’s tone - it may not be obvious to others, but you know your brother like the back of your hand, and you can see the stiffness in his smile, and the chilled politeness in his tone. “Let’s catch up later on, yeah?” Hoseok says, turning back to you. Stiffly, you nod at him, already knowing he wants to talk about Jungkook.
Both you and Minhyuk enter Hoseok’s apartment and you can’t help the dismay that streaks through you. Hoseok wasn’t kidding when he said it’s a pretty quiet affair. About twenty people are milling about, the low thrumming bass of Hoseok’s music vibrating through the air. It’s loud enough to be heard throughout the apartment; not enough to cause the neighbours to complain, but more than enough to not really be able to have a decent conversation with someone.
Scattered about the crowd are a few people you recognise - Namjoon: Hoseok’s best friend from high school, and of course, Seokjin and Yoongi - his other best friends from college. Momentarily, you spot Jimin and you find yourself reeling at the familiar face. He’d been Hoseok’s friend from dance school when your brother was still in middle school. Your eyes continue scanning over the crowd before you find yourself stopping.
A rush of heat courses through your veins, the rushing of blood resounding through your eardrums when you spot Kim Taehyung - Hoseok and Jungkook’s other friend from swim team. But it’s not Taehyung that has you stopping. No, it’s who he’s speaking to.
Jungkook.
Knees buckling at the mere sight of him, your face crumples with the weight of your emotions. It’s only been nine months, and yet he looks so different from the last day you’d seen him. His hair is much longer now - so long that it falls into his eyes and you watch how he flicks the soft strands of hair out of his face. The motion of his hair practically mesmerises you and you can’t find it in yourself to look away from him. With his smooth caramel skin, soft features and gently sloping lips, he has your heart constricting between your ribcage.
Then you spot it. The black leather jacket. The same one you’d gotten him as a birthday gift four years ago. It’s still preserved beautifully, not a single piece out of place. The leather still shines like it’s brand new, and it still sits on his body as well as it did the first time you gifted it to him. Taehyung says something and Jungkook laughs in response, and the moment that he does, you let out an inaudible gasp. His head falls back, his features twisting into an expression of pure joy while his bunny-esque teeth are put on display. He looks happy - carefree - and you can’t help the sting of nostalgia that spikes through you. The music is loud, and you can barely hear anything. But somehow, his laugh resounds in your ear: ingrained in the memory of your eardrums as it plays like a record, over and over, while you watch him.
“You wanna get a drink?” Minhyuk asks. Instantly, your world comes crashing around you, and you turn to your current paramour. Blinking owlishly, you stare at him in confusion. He’s awfully close to you - a mere hair’s breadth away from you and instinctively, you find yourself backing away. Minhyuk looks at you oddly, and with a sheepish look, you nod to him. You’d gladly accept something to drink - you know you’ll need it if you wanted to survive the night.
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An hour later, you find yourself standing over the Seoul city skyline. Leant up against the glass railing of Hoseok’s balcony, you simply stare at the sunset painted across Seoul. The large skyscraper buildings obscure most of it, the artificial bright lights dimming the dusky colours of twilight - but you don’t mind so much. Even obscured by the towering modern glass buildings, the dark shades of amaranth, copper and violet vividly paint the sky enough for you to take it all in.
“You okay out here?” comes a soft voice but you don’t need to turn around to see who it is. You could recognise your brother’s voice in a heartbeat.
Humming non-committally, “fine. I just... needed some space, I guess,” you mumble out with a sigh. If you’re being completely honest, you wanted space from Minhyuk. The minute he noticed your gaze on Jungkook, something in him changed - he’d become a tad overbearing, not to mention that he hasn’t left you alone all night. His sudden attachment wouldn’t have been a problem - if it weren’t the fact that you’d been maudlin about seeing Jungkook again. Thus, while he was busy entertaining a small crowd of Hoseok’s friends, you’d slipped out from under his nose and isolated yourself onto the balcony.
A loud chorus of laughs rolls across the quiet balcony and you let out another sigh. Hoseok leans against the railing next to you as he faces his apartment. “Minhyuk seems to be doing well,” comes Hoseok’s casual voice.
Another sigh, “please don’t,” you whisper. You already know where Hoseok’s going with this. Turning his back to his apartment, Hoseok joins you in basking under the quickly setting sun.
“What happened? You never told me, and Jungkook… well, Jungkook refuses to talk about it. To talk about you,” Hoseok sighs. Through your peripheral vision, you note the almost defeated look in Hoseok’s eyes. Heart clenching at his words, you grip your beer can tighter while staring dully into the distance. You don’t blame Jungkook for not talking about you - you haven’t spoken about him either. Sure, you think about him. Every. Single. Day. But thinking about him and speaking about him are two different things - the latter of which is far too painful.
When you don’t respond to his question, Hoseok simply sighs. “Okay fine, we don’t have to talk about that. But-” he begins.
Before he can continue, however, you turn and look at him, “Hobi, can we just not speak about this?” you ask quietly. Your brother looks at you pointedly, his eyes scrutinising you. With your slumped shoulders and the desperation in your eyes, Hoseok finds his eyes softening. Instantly, he wraps his arms around you, pressing your head to his chest. Automatically, you own arms wrap around him and you bask in your brother’s comforting embrace.
“You still love him,” Hoseok breathes out. There’s not a single hint of accusation in his tone, just plain understanding. More than that, it’s not a question; it’s a statement. One that has your fists curling tighter into his shirt, your shoulders tensing. You wait for him to continue, but he doesn’t say anything else. Rather, he just holds you, letting you seek as much solace as you need from his hold. Frozen in his hug, you breathe deeply as you try to hold yourself together.
Eventually, you find the strength to pull away. Hoseok looks at you with gentle eyes. “Are you happy, at least? With Minhyuk?” Hoseok asks. Opening your mouth, you move to reply, but find yourself stopping. Eyebrows furrowed, your face contorts marginally as you consider Hoseok’s question. Are you happy? Honestly? You have no idea. You haven’t felt any real happiness since you walked out on Jungkook - but you’d chalked it up to the fact that you were still getting over him.
Hesitancy evident in every fibre of your being, Hoseok looks at you pointedly. “Alright. You don’t have to reply because I already know the answer to that,” Hoseok  sighs. He pauses for a moment, and you can see the uncertainty in his eyes. Yet, he continues anyway, “I know mom pushed you towards Minhyuk,” Hoseok begins, causing your eyes to widen. You open your mouth to reply, however, he cuts you off once again, “But I trust you to do the right thing. Not for anyone, but for yourself. You’re strong, ____, but you’re also smart. Smart enough to know what you want,” Hoseok finishes. Before you can reply to him, however, you hear the balcony doors sliding open.
The two of you turn around to the newcomer, your heart fluttering when you see Jungkook. “Oh. Sorry, I’ll leave,” Jungkook quickly says, already turning around. Abruptly, however, Hoseok walks up to Jungkook before clapping him on the back.
“Nah it’s okay. I was just heading inside. You can keep ____ company if you want,” Hoseok says brightly. Internally, you despair at your brother’s words. What the fuck was he thinking? Nonetheless, before either of you can say anything, Hoseok disappears back into his apartment, consequently leaving you and Jungkook alone.
Jungkook turns to you nervously, and you can practically feel the hesitancy exuding off of him in thick waves. Pulling your lower lip between your teeth, you send him an awkward smile before gesturing for him to join you. Jungkook looks at you in a mix of worry and trepidation, but ultimately, takes Hoseok’s space beside you. The two of you stand in silence, facing the Seoul city skyline as you stare at nothing. Frazzled by his presence, you internally grasp for something to say, anything to break the thick awkward tension that surrounds the two of you.
Then, all of a sudden: “How have you been?”, “So, what’s up?”, you and Jungkook ask at the same time. You stare at each other in surprise for a couple of moments. Then, all of a sudden, you both burst out laughing.
“God, this is so weird,” Jungkook says, running a hand through his hair. Biting your lip, you nod in agreement before turning back to look at the cityscape.
With the tension broken, “so, how have you been?” you find yourself asking. From the corner of your eye, you notice Jungkook shrug listlessly.
“I’ve been… okay, I guess. How about you?”
“Fine. Alright. I guess,” you reply, mirroring his previous sentiment. They’re simple niceties - and you both know there’s a hint of deception in both your words - but neither of you says anything about it. Once again, the two of you fall into silence. Though, this time, the atmosphere isn’t thick with floundering awkwardness. Rather, it’s thick with confusion and uncertainty. Where do you go from here? What do you even say to your ex-boyfriend - one you still have feelings for?
Deciding to take a chance, “how’s work? I saw that your company released a new game,” you finally say. Jungkook’s head snaps towards you, his eyebrow rising at your question.
“You keep up to date with my company?” he asks. The incredulity in his voice surprises you and you look at him pointedly.
“Of course I do. That company means a big deal to you,” you reply easily. Despite the situation, Jungkook finds himself chuckling, even as his heart constraints at the thought of you checking up on him - even if it’s from afar.
“Yeah. It’s doing really well. Made me a lot of money. How about you? Dohyun from your department still being an ass because you’re the one who got promoted or?” Jungkook questions casually, causing you to laugh.
“Ah, man. Gotta love Dohyun. No, yeah. He’s still being an ass - but at least he doesn’t openly question my authority anymore,” you reply with an easy smile. Then, “actually, I have you to thank for that,” you softly say.
Jungkook looks at you in surprise, “me?”
Nodding, “yeah. I took your advice and threatened to fire him if he ever publicly undermined me again. That shut him up pretty quickly,” you chuckle. Jungkook snorts, the two of you laughing.
“Good! He deserves it. I know he has a problem working under a woman, but man, you deserved that promotion. You were far better qualified than him,” Jungkook compliments. Ducking shyly, you tuck a strand of hair behind your ears before smiling gently at him.
“Thanks. It means a lot,” you mumble under your breath, making Jungkook shake his head.
“No. ____, I’m serious. No one deserved it more than you. You worked so hard for it. There were days I was even worried about the stress you were under because you’d forget to eat, or you wouldn’t sleep. But I guess it was worth it in the end, because you got the promotion,” Jungkook responds. Then, he pauses, a teasing smile playing at the corners of his lips, “even if it meant there were days you’d ignore me,” Jungkook sighs dramatically. That causes you to snort, and before you can stop yourself, you playfully smack his arm.
“Hey! I gave you lots of attention. Or did you forget that time when I skipped work just so we could play hooky and go snowboarding?” you ask. Jungkook bites his lips, a tinkling giggle escaping his lips at the memory.
“Oh, that was good. You were terrible, and you fell so much I was worried you’d break something,” Jungkook reminisces, a soft sigh following his words.
Giggling to yourself, “Yeah, well we can’t all just pick up a sport and instinctively be good at them,” you snort in response.
“You’re right. Really, it’s a curse being perfect at everything,” Jungkook nods sagely in agreement. Jaw dropping, you look at him in amazement before the two of you burst out laughing.
Suddenly, a new voice breaks “What’s going on here?”
Turning around, you freeze at the sight of Minhyuk. Alternating between looking at you and Jungkook, Minhyuk’s face is a picture of passiveness, his lips set in a thin, grim line. At the sight of Minhyuk, you sense Jungkook deflate, the easy atmosphere once again thickening with tension.
“Minhyuk… this is-” you begin, ready to introduce the two. However, Minhyuk snorts.
“Yes. This is Jungkook, your ex-boyfriend. I know. Which begs the question, why are you alone out here with your ex while I’m inside?” Minhyuk asks. You reel at the accusatory tone in his voice as you double-take.
“Excuse me? We’re just out here speaking,” you exclaim and once again, Minhyuk snorts.
“It looked a little more than that,” he points out. Jaw dropping in bewilderment, you scoff at him, your eyes narrowing into thin slits.
“Uh, I think I should leave the two of you alone,” Jungkook says quietly as he begins making his way towards the balcony door.
Seeing him walk away breaks your heart, and you want to tell him to stay. Nevertheless, you know you have no right to. Not now anyway, when you have bigger problems at hand. Bigger problems namely being Minhyuk. “What’s your problem?” you ask, directing your attention to your boyfriend.
“My problem is that despite the fact that you’re going to be marrying me, you’re out here with the ex that you were seeing for five years. How do you think that makes me look?” Minhyuk argues back. At Minhyuk’s words, Jungkook finds his blood freezing as he’s brought to an abrupt halt - just before he can escape the balcony. You, yourself, are at a loss of something to say.
“We’ve barely been seeing each other for two months! Why are you bringing that up now?” you cry in astonishment. Really, where had the come from?
“But isn’t that why our mother’s set us up? Because we’re both looking to get married? Isn’t that where this is supposed to be going? Yet, here you are. With your ex-boyfriend. Who you’ve paid more attention to than me this entire night, by the way,” Minhyuk points out. Spluttering at his words, your cheeks heat as you know you’ve been caught. The hairs on your arms stand erect, and immediately, you know that Jungkook is staring at you - but you refuse to look at him. You don’t want to see the expression on his face right now.
Instead, you decide to keep your attention directly on Minhyuk, “yes, this is where it’s supposed to be going, but-” you reply, only for Minhyuk to cut you off once again.
“But nothing. I like you, a lot. And I know we’ve only known each other two months, but I can see us having a life together. Is that not what you want? Isn’t that the reason we’re together in the first place? Do you not want to marry me? Say you’ll marry me and I’ll drop this right now,” Minhyuk finally says, his previous anger and insecurity at seeing you and Jungkook together dissipating. He levels you with his sincere gaze, the unanswered ultimatum heavy in the air.
Unable to help yourself any longer, you momentarily shift your gaze to Jungkook. It’s brief - barely a second - but it’s all you need. The utter look of despair is clearly evident on his face, a mixture of heartbreak and anguish painted so very clearly across his features. It reminds you of the day you’d broken up with him; reminds you of how he’d looked when you’d walked out on him.
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Flashback - nine months ago
One lazy Sunday, you find yourself in the apartment you share with your boyfriend. The two of you are sprawled on the couch, barely dressed: Jungkook with only his boxers and socks, and you in his large t-shirt and panties. You’d both considered getting dressed, but had decided against it - especially since neither of you had any plans to leave the house. Hence, you find yourself pressed against Jungkook, your back comfortably flush against his strong chest, your head easily finding the perfect resting spot in the crook where his collarbone meets his neck.
Absentmindedly, Jungkook plays with the hem of your underwear, fiddling with elasticated lace as you scroll through Netflix. The film titles pass in a blur as you look for something to watch. Catching the attention of one title, you can't help but fixate on it for a bit. "Kook?" you call out to your boyfriend softly. You angle your head to look up at him while shifting your head onto his shoulder, so you can see him clearly. Jungkook hums non-committally as he glances at you from the corner of his eyes.
"What's up, sweetheart? Wait- if this is just to ask me if we can watch Zootropolis again, you know my answer is always yes," Jungkook says, his eyes twinkling in excitement. A light giggle escapes your lips but you shake your head.
"No. I just- we've been together five years now, yes?" you ask, turning your head back to stare at the TV. Jungkook's eyebrows furrow slightly, and he moves his head so he can better look at you.
"Yes? What about it?"
"Well-" you begin. Briefly you pause, worrying your lower lip, "do you think we'll get married?" you breathe out. Jungkook stills, the hand that had been mindlessly playing with the lace material of your underwear coming to a halt.
"What?" he asks, his chest rumbling under you.
"Well, have you thought about us getting married? Like, we've been together a while now, but I don't think we've ever really spoken about it," you sigh out. Ideally, you wanted to marry Jungkook - because, after five years, you're sure he's the one for you.
"Honestly?" Jungkook asks. Anxiousness pools in the pits of your stomach as you hear the slight trepidation in his voice. It's barely there - but you know Jungkook well enough to spot the tell-tale sign of his worriment.
"Honestly," you reiterate his statement, letting him know you want nothing but the truth.
Jungkook sighs, "honestly, I've never really thought about it," he breathes out. Immediately, you jerk, sitting up as you twist to look at him. Shifting so you're in a more comfortable position, you sit on his stomach, your thighs straddling his waist. Instinctively, Jungkook's hands fall onto your thighs. You look at him in a mixture of shock and disbelief, Jungkook returning his own expectant gaze.
"You've never thought about us getting married?" you sputter out, completely baffled by his words. How has he not thought about it? You've been together five years now. That's an awfully long time - surely, he's thought about it at some point. Not to mention, you're both twenty-seven now, almost thirty. So how has he not thought about it? You know you have. In fact, you dream about the day you walk down the aisle, Jungkook on the other side. Hell, you dream about a life with him; a family - because you know he's all you want.
"Sweetheart-" Jungkook starts, and you look pointedly at him, "listen- it's nothing to do with you. It's just, we're still young. I do love you, you know that, but I just never really thought about it," he continues. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, you cock your head in question.
"Never?" you enquire. Jungkook simply shrugging.
"Not really," comes his simple reply.
“How?” you question, looking at him in confusion. Distinctly, you remember having light conversations with Jungkook. Conversations where you’d joke about being married, conversations about your wedding or your future together.
“What do you mean how?” Jungkook asks dumbly, causing you to frown.
“I mean- I know we’ve joked about it before. I’ve mentioned wanting to get married before, I know I have,” you point out.
“Yeah… but I thought you were joking and other than that, I’ve never seriously thought about it,” Jungkook says casually. You suck in a sharp breath at his words. He hadn’t ever seriously considered it? Fear settles in your stomach at his words. You’d always just assumed you and Jungkook would eventually get married - but he hadn’t ever seriously thought about it?
"Well... do you want to get married?" you ask plainly. Jungkook smirks at you, the corners of his lips twisting into a teasing, lop-sided smile.
"Are you asking?" he jokes. However, you're in no mood to play games. This is important to you - because your boyfriend of five years just admitted that he hadn't ever considered a future with the two of you together.
"Jungkook, I'm being serious," you say - your voice is soft, yet firm. Sensing the seriousness to your tone, the smile on Jungkook's face falls and he sits up. His movement displaces you from his stomach, and you find yourself moving to sit on the couch while looking at him expressionlessly.
"____, I don't know. As I said, I've never really thought about it," Jungkook reiterates.
"Well think about it now! Do you want to get married or no?" you ask, anxiousness bubbling in your veins. This conversation certainly hasn't gone the way you had expected it to. When you'd first asked Jungkook, it had just been an off-handed question, because really, why wouldn't he have thought about getting married. Now? You're not so sure.
"I- I don't know," Jungkook mutters. Face falling in despair, you get up off of the couch and walk into your bedroom. What did he mean he didn't know? Five years. You've been together five years, and he still doesn't know? Without a second thought, Jungkook follows you into your bedroom, watching in confusion as you begin getting dressed.
"Sweetheart? Are you mad at me?" he asks, causing you to snort derisively.
"Are you really asking me that right now?" you snap in response. Jungkook reels back at the irritation in your voice.
"Why? Because I said I don't know if I want to get married? Why is that a problem? I still love you- you know that," your boyfriend argues.
"The problem isn't that you love me Jungkook. It's that you just admitted you haven't thought about our future together," you cry back. Sensing your upset, Jungkook quickly walks up to you. He places his hands on your arms, gently rubbing up and down as he cooes gently at you.
"Baby, that's not what I meant. It's just, we're still young you know? And it's not like we have to get married to each other to prove anything. I love you, and you love me, isn't that enough?" Jungkook asks softly, trying his best to placate you. Tears forming in your eyes, you shake your head and push his hands away.
"But I want to get married Jungkook. But you don't even know if you want to get married," you reply back, your bottom lip quivering. You take in a deep breath in an attempt to hold yourself together.
"But I could... maybe," Jungkook replies. Though, you both hear the clear uncertainty in his voice. His words, paired with his tone, only has your heart breaking.
"Do you? It doesn't have to be now, but do you see us getting married? A simple yes or no. That's all I'm asking for," you breathe out.
Through tear-filled eyes, you watch your boyfriend contemplate your question. One minute passes. Then two. But he's no closer to giving you your answer. With every second that passes, your anguish grows into grief-stricken distress. Multiple times, Jungkook opens and closes his mouth, and each time, hope blooms in your chest, only to die when he closes his mouth. Long, excruciating moments pass, and you all but abandon hope, when finally he says something.
"I don't know," Jungkook replies. The very moment his words ring in your ears, that small inkling of hope within your chest in crushes. A sob escapes your lips and you feel your knees buckle. Distress painted on Jungkook's face, he reaches out to comfort you, but you back away from him, causing your boyfriend to flinch.
"Will you ever know?" you whisper hopelessly.
"I don't know," comes Jungkook's answer once again.
"Then I don't know if I can do this," you whisper back. Jungkook's head snaps up to you, his eyes wide as he looks at you in disbelief.
"What? What do you mean?" he chokes out, barely able to get the words out. Throat constricting, you swallow thickly as you choke back a sob.
"I don't know if I can still do this. Jungkook, I want to get married. I want to marry you. I dream about walking down the aisle to you, I dream about children - our children. I dream about a life with you. But you-" you stop as your voice cracks with emotion. Taking a deep breath, you pull yourself together once again, "but you don't know if you even want to get married and that... that just tells me you haven't thought about our future together," you finally manage to say, your voice strained.
"We're still young. We have so much time to think about that," Jungkook argues, causing you to shake your head.
"We're twenty-seven Jungkook. We've been together for five years. That's a long time, so why haven't you ever considered us getting married? Not even moments ago you admitted that you've never thought about it. How do you think that makes me feel?" you cry.
"I don't know! It wasn't on my mind. I think about you but I- I just don't know if I want to get married. Why is that a big deal?" Jungkook asks, even as anguish colours his veins at the sight of your heartbreak.
"It's a big deal to me! It's a big deal because like I said, that's what I want!" you practically yell. Taking another deep breath, you sniffle, "I don't think I can do this," you repeat once again. Again, your voice cracks, but Jungkook despairs at the resolution in it.
"What are you saying?" he chokes out, not wanting to believe it. You can't mean it. You can't be saying what he thinks you're saying.
"I'm saying- I'm saying we should break up," you finally say. You practically have to force the words out of your mouth - because, despite everything, every fibre of your being is still in love with Jungkook - still wants to be with Jungkook. But this isn't something you think you can compromise on.
"No," Jungkook blurts out. "N-no. Please, no," he practically begs. Once again he steps up to you, and once again, you step away from him - desperately needing the distance between you. "W-why? Why can't we wait until I know? Please, why can't we wait until I'm ready?" Jungkook pleads. Sucking in a deep breath, you shake your head as you look away. You want to. You desperately want to take his word for it, want to fall into his arms and forget this conversation. But you just can't.
"I c-can't," you express, "because what if we continue for another two, or three or five years, only for you to tell me you still don't want to get married? I don't want to start all over again in my thirties, Jungkook. I don't want to be in love with your a few more years, only for you to eventually decide you still don't want to get married," you reply softly.
"But we don't know if that'll happen!" Jungkook tries arguing and this time, you turn to him. Jungkook freezes at your face, the resolute sadness in your eyes breaking his heart. His heart constricts in his chest as he sees unwavering stubbornness, mixed with heartache and sorrow, in your eyes.
"Exactly Jungkook. We don't know. If you don't know now, after five years of being together, I don't know if you'll know in another few years. And I can't take that chance," you finally utter.
"____, please don't do this. I love you," Jungkook sobs brokenly. Unable to look him in the eyes anymore - unable to stand the utter devastation written on his face - you look away.
"I'm sorry," you whisper softly.
And then, you walk away.
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By the time you’re drawn out of your reverie, Jungkook is long gone. In his stead, stands Minhyuk, who looks at you expectantly. ‘Say you’ll marry me.’ Minhyuk’s voice once again rings through your head and you can’t help but feel queasy at the statement. You had broken up with Jungkook because you wanted to get married - and you do. But, is Minhyuk who you want to marry? As harsh as it is, marrying Minhyuk feels like… you’re settling - and that doesn’t sit well with you. But what do you do now? What if this was your only chance? You’re twenty-seven now and you hadn’t lied to Jungkook when you said you didn’t want to wait another five years only for things to fall apart if he decided he still didn’t want to get married.
But this doesn’t feel right.
You and Minhyuk stare at each other, Minhyuk patiently waiting for your answer. Except, you have no idea what you want to say. Your skin flushes with heat and you feel panic set into your bones while your stomach flips. Blood rushes through your ears, the sound drowning out everything else as you simply stare at Minhyuk. Though, you’re not really looking at him. No, because even now, with Minhyuk standing in front of you and Jungkook long gone, there’s only one person on your mind.
The same person who’s been on your mind the entire night.
Abruptly, Hoseok’s words ring through your head. ‘You’re strong - but you’re also smart. Smart enough to know what you want.’ Your brother’s voice plays over and over in your head - like a broken vinyl - until it’s all you can hear. Then, a spark of epiphany courses through your head, and the dawning of revelation washes over you.
You do know what you want - more than anything.
And you know what you have to do now.
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It's almost two in the morning when Jungkook finds himself outside of your apartment. He doesn't know how long he's sat there, back against the wall and knees up to his chest as he stares at your flat door. After he'd left Hoseok's apartment, he found his feet walking to a bar, and after about an hour of drinking, he'd walked home. Well, he'd meant to walk home. But, somehow, in his tipsy-fogged mind, he'd automatically walked to your building and then up to your flat. A while after that, he'd just sat outside your door, contemplating whether he should knock or not. The largest part of him desperately wanted to knock - and multiple times, fueled by the courage of the alcohol - he almost had. However, each time, the smaller part of him would stop himself, unable to actually follow through. What if you'd said yes to Minhyuk? What if you didn't want to see him? What if you're with Minhyuk? Jungkook doesn't know what he'd do if he knocks, only to find Minhyuk on the other side of the door.
Head repeatedly banging against the wall behind him, Jungkook stares at the gold plated numbers of your door. With every second that passes, the alcohol in his system slowly fades away and Jungkook finds himself sobering. But still, he doesn't leave. He can't bring himself to get up and walk away. It's late enough that sleep should begin fogging his mind, but again, not knowing whether you said yes or no to Minhyuk would eat away at him - and he knows he'd be restless and unable to sleep until he finds out. Yet, he just cannot bring himself to knock. So, instead, he just sits outside your apartment. Waiting for something. Anything.
For you.
Another hour passes and you still don't come. Jungkook lets out a shuddering breath, his head falling into his hands. Mentally, he draws up a pros and cons list of knocking - and yet, each time, he scraps them all. Even with all the cons: you could be engaged to Minhyuk, you could be with Minhyuk, you could be moving on with Minhyuk; Jungkook can't help but consider the pros: you could have said no, you could be alone, you could be waiting for him. It's that last one that he dreads. There's a small chance you couldbe waiting for him and that has hope flaring in his chest. But in this situation, hope is the most crushing thing in existence - because it's only a small chance - and his hope could be crushed the minute you answer the door.
A part of him believes you had to have said to yes - you just had to have - because that's what you wanted, wasn't it? You wanted to get married. So, what reason would you have to say no? But that small, niggling voice in Jungkook head won't stop speaking - won't stop telling him that he's a reason you would have said no. Nevertheless, Jungkook knows that voice comes from his hope - and as he's mentioned - hope is the worst thing he has right now.
"You can't keep doing this, Jungkook. It's been nine months. You should move on- like she is," Jungkook mutters to himself out loud. He has no doubt that if anyone sees him, they'd think he was some sort of crazy person, but Jungkook also doesn't care. Over and over, he repeats the sentences to himself and eventually, he gets up, ready to leave.
But then he stops.
Turning back to your door, he takes in a shuddering breath, and before he can stop himself - or even rethink his spontaneous decision - he finds himself knocking. Because he desperately needs to know if he's lost you once and for all. Then, he waits again.
And still waits.
Time moves excruciatingly slowly - the seconds agonisingly passing away. Momentarily, Jungkook considers knocking again - maybe you're asleep, maybe you didn't hear him. But the adrenaline-induced courage has long since faded after he knocked, and once again he finds himself turning away.
However, then, he hears it: the clinking of a chain.
The door creaks open slowly, Jungkook sucking in a sharp breath as he spots you. You're dressed in a large hoodie - and hope flares in his chest as he recognises it. It's hishoodie. He thought he'd misplaced it a while ago - but no, apparently it was just with you. But why? Why hadn't you returned it to him?
As soon as the door is wide open, you stare in disbelief at the sight in front of you. Rubbing your blood-shot eyes, your mouth drops slightly as you realise you're not imagining it. Jungkook is standing in front of you. Why is Jungkook standing in front of you?
"J-Jungkook?" you stutter out, bewilderment heavy in your voice.
"I'm sorry," Jungkook blurts out. Taken aback by his sudden apology, your eyebrow furrows.
"W-What? Why are you sorry?" you ask, unsure of what's happening. You'd just been crying in bed - desperately wishing for Jungkook - so, when you'd opened your door only to see him, you'd thought you were dreaming. And now? Well, now you're just confused. What does he have to be sorry about?
"I made a mistake. You were right- I didn't- I never thought about our future together. I never considered getting married, or whether we'd have a family together and it's because I was comfortable. I grew comfortable in our relationship and I took it for granted. I took you for granted," Jungkook breathes out. His words fall so quickly from his lips, he practically rambles, and you really have to strain to understand his words. "After five years together, I just got so used to us. I thought I'd always have you, and so, marriage or a family didn't even cross my mind - but it should have. I should have thought about our future together. I'm sorry that I didn't, and I'm sorry that I thought about it too late," Jungkook continues. Once again, he pauses, taking a deep breath as he thinks about what to say next. But if he's being honest, he doesn't really know what else to say.
Shoulders deflating, Jungkook runs a weary hand through his hair, and suddenly, he looks more harried than you've seen him in a long time. "I'm just- I'm sorry I didn't think about it back then. I'm just sorry," Jungkook finishes lamely. There's more on the tip of his tongue: I miss you, I want you, I love you; but he can't bring himself to say them. Not when you could be happy with Minhyuk. He can't do that to you - he'd broken your heart that day - when he'd openly admitted he'd never thought about a future with you - and now, you have a chance with someone else. And he can't take that away from you, even if it breaks his heart to let you go. Left reeling by his words, they play over and over in your mind, and it takes all your brainpower to reallyunderstand them - but in your stunned daze, you don't say anything - and Jungkook doesn't know what to make of it.
So, instead, "I guess, that's what I wanted to say. I- I hope you're happy with Minhyuk," he chokes out. Sluggishly, you realise that Jungkook is walking away - and that's all it takes to restart your brain.
"W-what if I'm not happy? What would you do if I wasn't happy?" you rasp, your voice straining. Jungkook freezes at your words, his blood running cold. Then, he whips around so quickly, you fear he'd get whiplash. However, Jungkook doesn't care. Rather, his eyes swiftly rake over your face, searching for something, anything to confirm what'd he'd just heard. He finds it in your eyes; in the way they silently beg him to continue, plead with him to say everything on his mind.
Helpless under your imploring gaze, Jungkook finds his tongue unravelling as he lays his feelings at your feet. "I'd ask for a second chance. A chance to make you happy and give you what you want," Jungkook breathes out. Your eyes widen in the slightest at his proclamation.
Is he saying what you think he is?
Incredulity painted as clear as day on your face and sliver of hope evident in your eyes, Jungkook's face softens slightly. He wasn't lying - when Minhyuk had proposed the ultimatum, Jungkook had felt his heartbreak - and when he'd sat in the bar, all he could think about was you. More importantly, all he could think about was the missed opportunity. He imagined what you'd look like on your wedding day. How happy would you be? Would you look as radiantly beautiful as he imaged you to be? Would you smile in that carefree, captivating way that you did? But then, he grew maudlin - because he realised that if you did, it wouldn't be for him - and that broke his heart. It broke his heart to imagine you marrying someone that wasn't him, smiling for someone who wasn't him, creating a family with someone that wasn't him.
Nothing but sincerity in his voice, Jungkook continues, "I'd ask for you to take me back and to marry you. Because that's what I want - as long as it's with you," Jungkook finishes.
Throat clogged up with the heavy weight of your emotions, you swallow thickly, "then ask," you choke out. Your words are simple - and practically inaudible - but in the stillness of the empty corridor, and the quiet of the night, Jungkook hears it as clear as day.
"But- But what about Minhyuk?" Jungkook asks, unsure about whether he should or not. Hope flares in his chest at your words - but he doesn't want to believe them. Not yet, at least.
"Ask anyway," you simply say.
"Will you-" Jungkook begins, but the instant he opens his mouth, you're cutting him off.
"Yes," you reply - not even waiting for him to finish. It doesn't matter what he said. It doesn't matter if the words to follow are 'give me a second chance' or 'marry me' because all that matters is that he's back. All that matters is that he's willing to think about your future together - and right now, that's enough for you.
"You don't even know what I'm going to say-mpf," Jungkook begins, only to be stopped short when you pull him in for a kiss.
The instant his lips touch yours, you feel your entire body become electrified. Your veins are set afire with love, Jungkook's soft lips pressed against yours in a sweet kiss. Instinctively, Jungkook's arms wrap around your waist, his hands pulling your body flush against his as he feels you for the first time in months. You taste the same as you always have - temptingly sweet - and your body against his feels exquisite: your curves and contours fitting perfectly against his body. Sinking into this kiss, and consequently Jungkook, you sigh against his lips while you let your hands wander across his broad shoulder, before carding them into his hair.
Brief moments later, Jungkook breaks off your kiss; his forehead falling to rest against yours as he stares deeply into your eyes. His hands move to cradle your face, his thumb brushing your cheek tenderly as he lazily peppers soft kisses against your lips. Despite the softness of the moment, Jungkook can't stop wondering about Minhyuk - a sentiment he expresses to you in concern.
"I couldn't do it. I couldn't say yes," you reply, your eyes holding nothing but the truth. Jungkook's eyebrows knit together, and you find yourself giggling at the adorable expression. After a light peck against his lips, you move to rest your head against his chest, your eyes slipping shut as you feel his steady heartbeat under your ear. "I couldn't do it, because even then, you were all I could think about. I thought I wanted to get married, and I did - I do - but I realised, I didn't want to marry just anyone. I wanted to marry you," you confess. Jungkook's heart soars in his chest and helpless under your spell, he finds himself pulling you in for another kiss.
However, this time, it's different. This time, your kiss isn't slow, or soft. No, it's needier - Jungkook’s pouring out his entire heart into your kiss as he bruises his lips against you. Gasping against his lips, your fists clench around Jungkook’s leather jacket - using the material to pull him closer into you. You pull away from Jungkook’s lips, breathing heavily against his lips as you stare up at him through the thick of your eyelashes.
“Do you want to come in?” you breathily ask. Jungkook pauses for a moment.
“Are you sure? We don’t have to-” he begins refuting. However, you’re already pressing kisses against his jaw - lightly nipping the sensitive spot just above his Adam’s apple.
“I’m sure. I’ve missed you,” you rasp out, your voice coming out breathier than you anticipated. Jungkook’s eyes dilate at your words, and before you know what’s happening, he’s leading you into your apartment.
The both of you barely make it into your apartment, before Jungkook is slamming the door shut and pushing you up against the hard wood. Caging you between his arms, Jungkook’s lips fall upon yours again, his lips moving in a frenzied fashion this time. Instinctively, your arms wrap around his shoulders, pulling him closer into you. Jungkook lets out a soft growl against your lips before pulling away. Peppering kisses along your jaw, he trails down the column of your throat before nuzzling his face into the juncture of your shoulder.
“God- I’ve missed you,” Jungkook whispers as he breathes in your calming scent. Own hands threading into his hair, you lazily play with the locks at the nape of his neck.
“I missed you too. A lot,” you moan out as Jungkook begins to suckle bruises onto the tender flesh of your throat.
“Is that why you’re wearing my hoodie?” Jungkook asks, curiosity winning out on him. Not that you don’t look good in it - in fact, seeing you dressed in his clothing is one of Jungkook’s favourite things.
“Maybe,” you reply coyly, “what are you going to do about it?” you continue. Jungkook sucks in a sharp breath at the teasing lilt to your voice and immediately, drops to his knees. You jerk at the sudden movement, your eyes widening marginally at the sight of Jungkook on his knees.
“If this was any other time, I’d teach you a lesson. But right now, I’ve missed you too much, and you look good enough to eat,” Jungkook groans out as he runs his nose along the exposed flesh of your inner thigh. Your breath hitches at his words, Jungkook’s large hands slowly wrapping around your thighs before he parts your legs. Tenderly, his hands run up the back of your thighs, and gripping the flesh of your ass, he pulls your hips further into him.
Running his nose against the cotton of your panties, Jungkook takes in a deep breath before groaning as the heady scent of your arousal runs through his nose. He pushes his hoodie further up your hips, his lips gently tracing his way up the length of your thigh. Positioned just over your hip, Jungkook places a tender kiss above where your bone is. Then, he bites down on the waistband of your panties before slowly sliding it down your legs. When he gets to the crooks of your thighs, he lets go of it, letting the material drop to the floor.
You step out of your underwear and spread your legs - making more room for Jungkook. Gripping one of your thighs, he pulls it to rest over his shoulder, exposing your pussy to his gaze. Dark, lust-filled eyes rove over your folds, Jungkook shuddering as the scent of your arousal deepens. Your sex is slightly dewy, glistening in the low lighting of your living room. Biting his lip, Jungkook edges closer to your folds before tentatively licking a line: all the way from your core to your clit.
“Oh fuck,” you groan out, your head lolling back while one of your hands shoots out to tangle into his thick hair. Hearing your low groan, Jungkook smirks against your pussy before repeating the action. Spikes of pleasure run up and down your spine, your eyelids fluttering as you lose yourself into the pleasure he brings upon your body.
Moving one hand, Jungkook presses two fingers against the petals of your sex before parting his digits in a ‘V’ shape and consequently your folds. With your pussy exposed, Jungkook once again licks a thick line from your dripping, honeyed entrance, all the way to your engorged bud. He licks harder this time, his tongue lapping in a broad line as he gathers your heady essence onto his tongue. Your arousal bathes his tastebuds, and with his nose pressed against the hood of your clit - all he can taste, all he can breathe is you.
Soft lips wrap around your clit, Jungkook pulling the sensitive bud into his mouth before lightly suckling on it. His ministrations cause you to gasp - the sound quickly morphing into a heavy moan when his nips your throbbing clit. Tangling your fingers further into his hair, you slowly undulate your hips, pushing them further into Jungkook as you tug on his hair, trying to get him to move fast.
Sensing the urgency in your movements, Jungkook rakes his teeth over your clit in warning once again. Then, breaking away with a pop, “Be patient, darling,” Jungkook breathes out. The lusty fog of your desire rolls thickly into your head, clouding your mind and setting your flesh aflame with want and through your wanton need, you barely hear Jungkook’s words. Instead, the feel of Jungkook’s warm breath wafting over your wet folds has you shuddering in pleasure.
“Kook,” you whine needily, desperation heavy in the high pitch of your voice.
With his face buried between your thighs, you can’t see his face. But you don’t have to. You can feel the smirk on his lips. Not that you really care - because he’s currently swirling his tongue around your clit tantalisingly and subsequently driving you to the brink of insanity. Lightly, he moves the two fingers that have you spread open. You shudder at the featherlight touch, feeling him softly ghost his fingertips over the outline of your folds before circling your entrance. His touch has your core clenching, your pussy walls fluttering around his fingertips.
“Fuck- I forgot how fucking sensitive your pussy is,” Jungkook moans against your clit. His words are slightly muffled, and the vibration of his voice shoots straight from your clit to the pits of your belly. Loins heating with pleasure, you feel your stomach twist and knot as Jungkook laps kittenish licks against your clit. Teasingly, Jungkook continues circling his fingertip against your entrance, feeling the way strings of your sticky wetness drip out of you before they cling to his digit.
Drawing away from your clit, Jungkook slowly pulls his finger away; his throat drying as he watches the thin, filmy strings of your arousal drip from your pussy and onto his finger. The thick rivulets stretch as he pulls away - and the moment one of them snaps - Jungkook is unable to stop himself from pressing his head back between your thighs. Tongue plunging into your core, his swirls his wet appendage around your cunt, groaning as thick streams of arousal drip onto his tongue.
“Oh fuck- Kook,” you mewl, your head falling back and hitting the door with a light thud. The pain barely registers in your mind, your eyes rolling into the back of your skull as your pussy flutters around his tongue. Helpless against your needy whine, Jungkook pushes two fingers into your depths, your body jerking at the sudden intrusion as you tug at his hair reflexively. Twisting his fingers into you, Jungkook pumps his digits in and out, relishing in the feel of your silken, pulsating walls around his appendages as he continues eating you out - almost ravenously.
Gripping his locks tightly, you gyrate harder into his mouth. Waves of pleasure flit over your skin, your blood boiling with ecstasy as you feel the warmth in your belly begin to heat up. When Jungkook spreads your entrance using his fingers, his tongue plunging deeper into you, you let out a cry of pleasure. God, you’d forgotten just howgood Jungkook’s mouth was. Mouth and throat running dry, you swallow thickly before panting out his name over and over again. The once dull warmth begins burning your loins; searing, white-hot pleasure running up and down your flesh, your skin prickling with goosebumps as you feel your orgasm approaching.
“Please-” you groan out, the guttural sound intermingling with the wet, sloppy sounds of Jungkook eating you out. Thighs quivering against his ears, Jungkook pushes his fingers deeper into you. Expertly, he finds the sweet spot inside you, his fingers crooking at the knuckle as he strokes the spongy spot. Reflexively, your hand tugs his hair harshly while your knees buckle under the euphoria of your approaching orgasm.
“Are you cumming, baby? You wanna cum on my tongue?” Jungkook taunts, a teasing lilt to his voice. Swallowing thickly, it’s all you can do to simply rasp out his name. Knowing he has you on the verge of ecstasy, Jungkook doubles his efforts - his fingers pistoning inside you quicker as he wraps his wet lips around your clit.
“God, your pussy tastes so fucking good. I missed you - missed the way your pretty little pussy feels around my tongue,” Jungkook grunts out. Another whine of pleasure escapes your lips, your hips jolting into his face when the pads of his finger stroke your g-spot.
“Cumming-” you gasp out, your voice cracking under the pleasure.
“Then cum baby- cum all over my tongue. I wanna taste you- wanna drink you up,” Jungkook urges. The filthiness of his words, paired with the way he harshly sucks your clit, instantly has you cumming.
A loud mewl escaping your lip, you whine out his name. Your eyes roll back into your skull, your visions filled with white spots as your orgasm ricochets through you. Feeling you come undone above him, Jungkook rips his fingers out of you, his hands gripping your flesh and fingers digging into your skin as he holds your violently trembling thighs. The scent of your arousal thickens deeply, and Jungkook watches with dilated eyes as thick ropes of cum drip out of your cunt and down your thighs.
Placing his lips against your entrance, Jungkook slurps at your cum, swallowing it thickly and relishing in your taste. You whine out his name, your knees buckling from the power of your orgasm - and if it weren’t for Jungkook’s strong grip, you’re sure you’d drop to the floor. Gasping for air, you slowly come down from the high of your orgasm, Jungkook patiently waiting for you to descend down to reality.
Tenderly, your boyfriend places affectionate kisses along the length of your thigh, softly cooing at you while he whispers sweet nothings against your flesh. A soft smile tugs at your lips and you untangle your fingers from their vice-like grip on his locks. Instead, you softly play with the strands, marvelling at their silk-like texture. Jungkook always had beautiful hair, but with how long it is currently, you can reallyadmire it.
“Kook- want you,” you mew. Jungkook chuckles at the soft neediness in your voice.
“Come here, sweetheart,” Jungkook says before he gathers you in his arms. Gently, he brings you to the floor with him. Still swimming in the haziness of your orgasm, you feel Jungkook swiftly divest himself off his clothing, until he’s left naked. Once done, Jungkook gathers you into his arms once again. He shifts you so your thighs are straddling his, your body propped against his strong chest as his back rests against the door to your apartment.
Unable to help yourself, you rest your head against his shoulder, your hands indolently running over his skin as you finally feel him under your touch. You trace every muscle of his upper body - from the corded flesh of his biceps, to the taut skin of his abdomen; and then towards his broad, defined shoulders. Jungkook’s arms wrap around your waist, his hands running up the hem of his hoodie and flitting up your skin before he divests you off the article of clothing - leaving you both naked.
Shuddering at the feel of the night’s crisp air against your skin, you snuggle closer into Jungkook’s warmth, letting his presence wash over you. “I missed you,” you mumble against his skin. Jungkook’s face softens and he nods, his head dropping so he can press a kiss to your shoulder. His long hair tickles your skin and you relish in the featherlight touch.
Not wanting to wait any longer - and more than desperate to feel him inside of you - you flex your thighs, picking yourself up. One hand feels out for Jungkook’s cock, and easily finding the shaft, you grip the base before pressing it against your entrance. Feeling the bulbous head push against your entrance, you let out a soft whine before slowly descending down onto him. Slowly, he spreads out your walls, his thick girth stretching you out for the first time in months. It’s been a while since you’ve had Jungkook and the sheer size of him has a dull pain stinging at your pussy walls - but you don’t mind so much. No, in fact, you cherish it - because you’d sorely missed how transcendent he’d felt stretching out your pussy to its brim.
“Oh fuck- God, you’re so fucking tight. You feel so good,” Jungkook groans out, his cock twitching with every inch he sinks into you. Jungkook’s arms wrap around you, holding your naked chest flush against his as you continue your descent onto his cock. When he finally bottoms out, his balls resting just under your ass, you let out a little whimper, your fingers clawing into his shoulder.
“You good, baby?” Jungkook asks, his lips skimming the outline of your collarbone.
“Yeah- you feel- so good,” you gasp out. Jungkook gives you a couple of moments to adjust to the feel of him - and then, he’s gripping your hips before lifting them up for you. You cry out in pleasure as you feel his cock retreat out of you, only for Jungkook to thrust upwards, plunging the entire length of his shaft.
The two of you begin moving in tandem with each other: Jungkook helping you move on top of him while simultaneously impaling his cock into you. With every one of his movements, you feel pleasure run through your veins. Every time he plunges the entirety of his cock inside of you, you let out short gasps, your toes curling in pleasure. Moving slowly, you take the time to simply feel each other - the ardent fire of your lust and love burning bright in the pits of both your bellies as you sink into unadulterated pleasure.
Your slow, sensual pace continues for a little while longer - but you can slowly feel Jungkook’s desperation increasing with each thrust. His hands begin wandering over your hips and around to hold your ass. Fingers digging into the soft flesh, he grips your ass tightly before bouncing you harder ontop of him. Need fills his every movement - Jungkook’s thrusts becoming rougher. You bounce on top of him, your entire body shaking as Jungkook thrusts harder and harder into you. Changing the angle of his hips, Jungkook plunges his cock against your sweet spot, the head of his cock brushing it with every impalement of his hips.
“I’m cumming, baby,” Jungkook warns. Not that he really needs to, you can feel his cock throb erratically inside you, twitching every now and then as your walls clench rhythmically around his shaft - massaging his entire length.
“Cum, baby. Cum in me. Wanna feel you deep in me,” you say softly, your hands softly massaging his shoulders. Jungkook lets out a little groan, pulling your hips harder down onto him as he tries to push his cock as deep as he can into you.
“Cum with me. Play with yourself. Wanna feel you cum around my cock,” Jungkook urgers, and you find yourself growing wetter at the authority present in his voice. Unable to deny him anything, you twist one arm between your body and begin expertly playing with your clit. The additional pleasure has you crying out in ecstasy. All of a sudden, you feel heat rush through your veins, your lips parting in a silent scream as you cum for a second time.
Feeling your walls clamp around him tightly, paired with the gushing of your cum around his cock, Jungkook let’s out a little groan. “Oh fuck,” he moans. Then with two stilted thrusts, he plunges his cock as deep as he can into you before cumming with a soft roar. His cock twitches inside your walls before he shoots rope after rope of hot cum inside you. You groan at the feel of his warmth, your toes curling in pleasure as the base of your spine tingles.
Jungkook holds you to him tightly, clutching your body to his as you both gasp and pant for air. The haziness of your euphoric high slowly abates, until you’re both left clinging to each other. Eventually, the white spots in your vision clear and you slowly pull away from him. You take in the sight of Jungkook, completely spent and sweat-soaked locks clinging to his forehead. Hearing you giggle, Jungkook opens one eye to peek at you.
“Stop laughing at me,” he pouts. Once again, you giggle at him, and then let yourself fall against him. Exhaustion weighs down your muscles and you find yourself snuggling into Jungkook’s chest, sleep already replacing the lust-filled fog that clouds your head.
“I can’t help it if you’re so cute,” you mumble sleepily. Jungkook bites his lips, lightly snorting through his nose. However, he simply doesn’t have the energy to argue with you. Instead, he sits quietly while attempting to catch his breath.
Eventually, he decides he’s had enough of a rest - but when he turns to you, you’re already deeply asleep, a small smile on your lips. Tenderly, Jungkook tuts, but there’s no real ire in it. Gathering you in his arms, he picks you up, wincing when his muscles protest the movement. Ignoring the pain, he carries you into your bedroom before gently depositing under the cover.
Fatigue quickly overcomes him, and it’s all Jungkook can do to not collapse beside you. Holding off, however, he manages to sluggishly pull himself under the cover. Once under the thick sheets, Jungkook shifts closer to you before he pulls you into his arms. You’re both sticky - your skin covered in a light sheen of perspiration - and it’s slightly uncomfortable, but Jungkook doesn’t care.
He’d be damned if he spent one more night without you in his arms.
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a/n: owo i hope you enjoyed it! please don’t forget to tell me what you thought 🥺
⇥ Masterlist
8K notes · View notes
stuckonstarker · 3 years ago
Text
masterlist
be warned, most of these suck
starker fics (over 1k wc)
vanilla and cherries (smut, omegaverse, intersex omegas)
tony is a horny omega and peter is a shy alpha (HS AU, cheating)
only a kiss (light angst, love confessions)
sleeping beauty (smut, noncon/dubcon, somnophilia)
estranged (smut, incest, noncon/dubcon, underage, dark tony)
the importance of family (smut, incest, noncon/dubcon, underage)
the promotion (smut, dubcon)
never tasted so cute (smut, fluff)
love & loss (angst, love confessions, this is pretty bad tbh ;-;)
tale of the estranged (smut, incest, dark tony)
happy birthday, mr. president (love affair, president tony)
runaway groom (angst, love affair)
storm (smut)
forbidden fruit (priest tony, demon peter, smut, this is bad)
starker (drabbles, under 1k wc)
we keep going back (angst, fluff, alcohol)
peter is in the hospital and tony is worried (vague injury, fluff)
tony has a stressful day and peter helps him (fluff)
omegaverse tony kidnaps peter for breeding (noncon, no explicit smut)
peter is sleepy (fluffy asf)
the rogue avengers are pardoned, tony is panicked (angst, fluff, panic attacks)
fireworks stress peter out (angst, panic attack)
untitled pwp (smut)
untitled pwp blowjob edition (smut)
tony and peter kiss but tony is an alcoholic (angst, fluff)
peter is a sugar baby (pretty whack tbh, do not rec)
peter decides to seduce tony (whack asf too)
baby it’s cold outside (based off of the song)
the barraette  (pre-relationship, fluff)
blood 
jealous tony in an uncomfortable interview (protectiveness, weird interviewer)
nicknames (fluff)
peter distracts tony while a movie plays
tony feels guilty for wanting peter (angst)
love (fluff)
the omega part one, part two
angsty age difference
peter takes care of a stressed tony
a cat person
lazy sex (smut)
dazed (pwp)
silent (angst)
peter thinks tony is cheating part one, part two (angst, misunderstandings)
tony tells morgan how him and peter fell in love (fluff)
daddy’s boy (smut, daddy kink)
what he wants (heavy angst, unhealthy relationships)
nightmare (hurt/comfort, nightmares)
making love (smut)
peter breaks up with tony (heavy angst, no comfort)
tony thinks peter is adorable (fluff)
walking alone (major character death, heavy angst)
will you marry me?  (peter proposes to tony, fluff)
manhattan (smut)
your broken toy  (heavy angst, hurt no comfort)
sleep
untitled angst (heavy angst, hurt no comfort)
just brothers (incest, funny)
peter is a cold dork
never enough (angst, break up)
peter wakes tony up at 3am (crackfic)
sleepy sunlight (fluff)
tony comforts a crying peter (fluff, angst, comfort)
winter fluff
cabin fluff
love (angst, major character death, grief)
starker headcanons
first kiss headcanons
tony is a protective dad and peter is morgan’s babysitter
peter proposes to tony
sidetracked
sappy starker
42 notes · View notes
lost-eternity · 5 years ago
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Matchup Requests: CLOSED
Match up request for:
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Match up request for: @bumbleslut
Okie dokie. I match you with...
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Deadpool / Wade Wilson!
Okay this was a difficult one
But let me explain why 
Wade disguises his insecurities and flaws behind wise cracking jokes.
He has a thick skin and is easily able to act tough and unaffected, despite how deep the words cut
It is because of this tendency to neglect and hide his emotions that I feel he would work well with you 
Your deeply compassionate and empathetic nature, combined with the persistence of a hopeless romantic is just the type of personality I feel Wade needs to not only open up but reconcile with himself
He refers to himself as sexy or handsome, but we know for a fact that he is ashamed of his scarred face. Like his new face somehow diminishes his worth as a person
Which just isn't true
But he needs someone open minded enough to tell him that
Someone who would truly find him to be beautiful, even if his beauty is not conventional 
Wade Wilson is presented as being morally ambiguous and is often brought up in reference to anti-heroes, however, I think the opposite is true. Wade has a very strong moral compass and can distinguish right from wrong. He always tries to do the right thing... he just has rather unorthodox methods of achieving those things. 
While I wouldn't say he is sensitive, I think part of that is because he has buried his own emotions so deep that he chooses to ignore them. 
Which again, I feel like is something he would need help with unlocking 
As a couple, you two would be legit
~
You both have rather talkative characters so I can say that without a doubt, there would never be a dry moment between the two of you
It could get chaotic 
But that's fine. Wade revels in chaos
I also feel like you have the capacity to defend yourself 
Show some snark and sarcasm. And, if not, Wade would definitely influence you into become a bit more of a bitch. 
In a good way, hahaha
~
Unconventional adventures and weird little trips is definitely something you would find yourself involved in a lot
It's not like Wade ever explains why
But it doesn't matter cause the two of you have a blast wreaking havoc 
You would act as Wade's conscience on these little outings
A foil to his reckless behaviour, keeping him safe, and morally in the right
Eventually he will learn to do this on his own- for your sake
He claims it is because he doesn't want to hear you talk "my already melty ears off" but it's because he cares about you 😉 
~
3AM Netflix movies are a common thing
He'd probably come in through the window missing a hand or a leg and you are just staring at him like: "bitch, what???"
Although he just wants to cuddle and watch Netflix and pop popcorn 
It's like... 'dude, it's 3AM, and you crawled through MY window missing a limb... and ask to watch ‘This is Us’???’
He'd never admit it but he has a thing for soap operas
You were also pleasantly surprised to see that he owned every episode of Star Trek. Or as he put it "The classics. Not the one with the bald guy that looks like Professor X."
~
Be prepared to be flirted with a lot
And his words can get pretty dirty pretty fast
You may have to talk him down
Seriously, he loves trying to make you blush
And oh boy, try he will
You will have to learn to either out flirt him, or shut him up with a snarky comment or remark 
But I don't think that will be too much of an issue as you have no qualms stating your opinions 
Wade does like a girl who can stick to her guns and defend her viewpoint. 
He finds it admirable 
~
Let's be honest.  You met at a strip club. 
Well kinda
You were walking past a strip club when it exploded
Yes, it exploded
The blast wave knocked you behind a car, lucky for you because the flying shrapnel did not hit you
Ears ringing and vision blurry, you sat there for a moment trying to figure out what the hell just happened
That was when a figure came flying out of the burning building, skidding along the asphalt and nearly colliding with your feet
"Wheeew!" The masked figure groaned  rolling onto his back as he hitched up his leg. "That was not a superhero landing." He coughed.
You stared at him, still kind of in a daze from you know... the explosion 
Apparently he noticed you for the first time. "Oh, hello! How's your Wednesday been?"
You just kinda stare at him
That was when you heard a very loud, very angry sounding voice screaming "DEADPOOL" from within the blaze
"Shit, gotta go. Mamma's ringing." The masked figure cooed and rolled to his feet before walking back into the fire screaming something about... 'deepthroating a bell'?
Now properly confused and somewhat recovered from the initial blast, you figured that the smart thing to do would be to run away
But you knew that there were still people in that burning club 
You could hear their screams
You had to help them
Steeling your nerve, you walked into the fire
The smoke was suffocating and the feeling of asphyxiation was beginning to set in as your covered your mouth with a rag 
Through the stinging smoke which scorched your eyes, you were able to make out three figures cowering under a fallen beam. 
The roof crackled as the fire threatened the integrity of the building. 
Reaching out your hand seized calloused burnt palms and you began to escort them out of the building 
Moving further in, you heard the sounds of a battle ensuing
Two hulking shapes danced through the smoke
One was the man who you had met earlier and the other?
You weren't entirely sure what he was
It looked like he was wearing some kind of... bell on his head. And cape...
You guessed this was there the first man's bell comments came from
But seriously, what was going on 
That was when you noticed the bell-guy lifting an arm, his entire right hand has been replaced with a heavy-looking metal sphere
And he cobbled it straight into the first guy's gut
With a loud grunt, Deadpool crashed into a beam behind them, causing the entire building to shake
If this continued, these two idiots would bring the entire roof down on top of you and kill everyone 
You had to stop them
Hyped on adrenaline and possessed by some kind of heroic spirit, you interjected yourself between the two of them screaming "STOP!!!"
Both figures seemed to grind to a halt, even bell guy who stared at you
Then you proceeded to give them a lecture in structural damage 
You, this small little human between a towering Goliath of a bell person, and an actual superhero
You were sure you were going to get them to move this conflict outside with the roof gave one final screech before entirely fracturing, sending flaming beams piling right on top of you 
~
You awoke somewhere entirely new
Your head was pounding, your hair charred and your skin blistering from the fire
You had no idea where you were... or how you got there
And as you slowly regained consciousness, your brain swimming in what felt like treacle, you became acutely aware of someone's finger jabbed into your cheek
Wincing, you tried to pull away but realised that something was restraining you
Your vision blurred as you opened your eyes 
The red-masked man was literally right in front of your face, pressing what you could only assume was his nose against your own
Jerking back, your head hit a wall, sending a spike of pain rushing through your skull
"Whoa! Calm down there, Sparky." Deadpool pulled back, removing his finger from your cheek.
"W-where?" You rasped and looked around
You were tied to a metal chair, your arms bound behind your back 
Deadpool sat in a similar chair next to you. Except he was shackled by his feet, not tied with rope
You appeared to be in some kind of warehouse... a rusty fan above your screeching with every rotation of its fins
"The big baddie caught us." Deadpool hummed. "Stupid of you to try to intervene."
You fixed him with an expression somewhere between acquiescence and a glare
He chuckled 
"Do you have a plan to escape?" You groaned
"Of course!" Deadpool replied happily 
"No, you don't." You sighed, noticing the hesitation in his tone
Deadpool just gasped, a sound akin to a little kid. "How'd you know? Are you a telepath?"
You sighed, wincing slightly as the aching in your head doubled back. You asked him what he had done to piss off this bell guy, who you could only assume was your captor
"Oh, that. Uh, well. Dr. Bong and aren't on the best of terms because may or may not have accidentally, purposefully cut off his hand...."
"You WHAT?"
He changed the topics on you and for the next 30 or so minutes blabbered on and on about one thing or another, as if being kidnapped and tied up did not concern him in the slightest 
That was when Dr. Bong showed up (a name you found entirely ridiculous, albeit a bit fitting)
Turns out he has a major crush on this lady named Beverly
And that he was going to use Deadpool as bait to lure her out and force her on a date 
Seemed like a completely nonsensical plan but this guy also seemed like a regular old psychopath
Still, you had to empathize with his tale of unrequited love
The poor thing just wanted to belong somewhere, but has been told old his life that he was too ugly or fat
So you two began talking
Much to Deadpool's chagrin who kept yelling at you to "stop sympathizing with the bad guy!"
You didn't listen 
Everyone deserves a chance, that was your own personal philosophy 
You advised Dr. Bong on dating and romance, speaking to him as you so often speak to your friends
You helped him to gain the confidence he needed to just ask this Beverly out, saying that her love wouldn't be real if it was first
He actually seemed to agree and after a few hours of talking he... let the two of you go
Deadpool was absolutely floored
This girl who he had just met defeated the bad guy by listening to him. 
Wtf?!?!
He was very much intrigued after this encounter, convinced you were hiding some kind of superpower. So he walked you home and gave you his number
Whatever you choose to do with this wisecracking anti-hero's number is entirely up to you ;)
I hope you enjoyed. I am sorry for the wait, dear. Do tell me what you thought, though :)
47 notes · View notes
pocket-clown · 5 years ago
Text
Something Better | Arthur Fleck x reader
// AN: I meant to get this out before midnight (EST), but... obviously that didn’t work out, since it’s past 3am, now. I wrote then revised this entire thing in less than twelve hours, so if it’s not the most structured thing I’ve ever written I apologize 
Summary: After days spent coming to terms with your growing feelings for your distant neighbor, you realize that New Years Eve offered the perfect opportunity for you to see the man you’d become infatuated with. 
Sort of a Part II for Smile. I make a few references to it, so you might want to give it a quick read if you haven’t already!
Words: 4,055
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      Entirely capable of holding a ceramic plate were you on most days, but your nerves at the moment made it feel as if the one currently in your hands weighed tons heavier than it truly did. You shifted your weight back and forth as you stood awkwardly in front of the door of your apartment, wondering if you should even do what it was you so wanted to.
You knew that Arthur lived alone with his mother, just like you knew neither of them were doing anything tonight. It was New Year’s Eve, and most of Gotham was sort of celebrating it (if you could count the drunken hooting and hollering from the sidewalks, the cars blaring their horns, the local news station’s coverage of some of the large bar-parties going on as celebrating), but not you, nor your sweet, albeit eccentric neighbor and his mother - the same neighbor you’d quite literally ran into about a month prior. 
Having the evening off from work, you’d lounged about your apartment for the majority of it. Not much on television had entertained you, and you’d grown quite fed up with laying in bed with nothing but the quiet hum of the radio in the background to keep you company, and in a fit of restless desperation to find something, anything, to entertain yourself with, you’d settled on the decision to bake - work that you’d actually be able to see and enjoy the result of. It had gone smoothly, as you thankfully already had everything you needed, but once it was completed, you thought to yourself and figured that you didn’t really need the entire two dozen to yourself. It didn’t take long to figure out what to do with the extra; you had no friends, still so new in town, but your thoughts had drifted to Arthur and his mother. 
Surely they’d like the gift, right? Not only was it a gift, but it was also an excuse to see Arthur, the only person that had actually managed to make you feel something beyond the usual feelings of loneliness and detachment from your surroundings that'd been plaguing you for the last who-knew-how-long. The more you thought about him as the weeks went on, the more you’d feel your heart flutter at the mere thought of his name, and the more your face would flush with the heat of excitement when you thought about how you’d eventually run into him again.
You’d denied your feelings since the minute they arose, but you were beginning to come to terms with the fact that you were experiencing your first, genuine crush on someone. You felt rather embarrassed about it; there was an obvious age gap between the two of you (though you were an adult, there was a considerable gap of probably close to 10 years, with you being in your 20s and him in his 30s), and you’d only spoken to the guy less than a handful of times. Sure, the two of you had exchanged glances and smiles in the hallway a few times; the way Arthur would look at you, then away, then look back again suggesting he wanted to say something, but he never did. You chalked it up to nerves, most of the time; those rare occasions that the two of you rode in the elevator together proved that he was as shy and socially anxious as you were (if not even more than you were), but there was a pestering, nagging little voice in the back of your mind, telling you that he just didn’t want to talk to you. 
Which is why you were so nervous about delivering the plate of cookies to him. You figured that if he wanted anything to do with you, he would’ve initiated it - but couldn’t you, then, say the same for yourself? As much as you hated to admit it, you knew that sometimes, you were the one that needed to make the first step, to make the first move, for a lot of things - regardless of what they involved. 
So with a deep breath and some mental pep-talk, you left your apartment and hurried down the hall, almost managing to talk yourself out of it once you realized that it was nearly 9 in the evening - you really didn’t want to come across as an inconsiderate nuisance for showing up so late.
With five quick knocks to the door labeled 8J, you took a deep breath, eyes focused downwards, on the plate in your hands. You almost missed the muffled voice from inside, no doubt Arthur’s mother asking him to get the door, and when the door finally did open, your voice caught in your throat. Arthur was in what you presumed to be his pajamas; a beige, long-sleeved shirt which wasn’t nearly as loose on him as the majority of his other sweaters were and sleep pants, his hair slicked back, damp from a shower. The tired, worn features of his face, his green eyes which were wide with surprise, were nothing less than handsome to you, and it took him greeting you for you to finally snap out of your daze.
“Oh, Y/N - hey.” Arthur said, and you suddenly found it very hard to make eye contact.
“Hi - I’m sorry to be a bother so late, but I wanted to wish you and your mother a happy new year.” You said, holding the plate out to him, your thumb gently rubbing the edge of it as you tried to soothe your nerves. “I had some extras leftover after baking, and thought you might like them.” 
Arthur’s eyes looked from your face to the plate, then back to your face again as he seemed to be taking a second to let it sink in that you were giving them to him, a puzzlement you couldn’t really blame him for since small acts of kindness were essentially nonexistent in Gotham. 
“Oh! - Really, for me? And my mom? That’s so kind of you, thank you.” He spoke softly, slowly taking the plate from you, and the way his hand brushed against yours made your breath hitch. “I’m sure my mother will enjoy them - they look great.” 
“I hope you like them, too! I made them with you in mind, really - ” You bit your tongue at your confession, not meaning to actually admit that to Arthur. “I mean - I hoped you’d like them - since I don’t know what kind you like, and… yeah.” You rubbed at the back of your neck, realizing you’ve done nothing but make the situation leagues more awkward than it needed to be, and you figured it was time to bid him goodnight before you did nothing but embarrass yourself further. “Right, so, I’ll get going now - I think I’ve kept you long enough.”
You managed to pry your focus away from the frame of the door and actually look at Arthur, finally, only to see that he was looking right at you. Your eyes met, and you couldn’t help but feel yourself get lost in how gentle his were as he looked at you.
“Oh, I don’t mind… but you’re probably busy tonight, aren’t you.” Arthur said, and dare you say he almost sounded disappointed as he spoke, though you told yourself that was just you reading too much into things and being overly hopeful again - something you’d learned only ever led to shattering disappointment. 
You couldn’t help but let out a quick laugh at this, not even able to remember the last time you had spent a holiday with someone. “Oh, not at all. It’s just me tonight, actually, but please - tell your mother I said hello! And happy new year, Arthur. Have a goodnight.” 
And just like that, with a smile and a quick wave, you were heading back down the hallway towards your own apartment, the sound of your slippered footsteps hushing the sound of your heart that was pounding rapidly in your ears. You felt a bit embarrassed, if you were being honest; you felt like you’d made a fool of yourself, with how you’d admitted the fact that you really only thought of him when you made the treats, never mind the fact that you’d done so so late in the evening, but something told you that Arthur was much more taken aback by the fact that you’d gone out of your way to do something kind for him and his mother than he was by your awkwardness. 
At least, you hoped that was the case. 
“Y/N?”
Immediately did you turn around, looking right back at Arthur after he’d called out for you. Something about the way he said your name - your name!, as simple as it was - made your heart skip a beat, and you held your breath as you waited for him to finish speaking.
"Would…. Would you like to come in? For a little while?” His voice was hesitant, as if he were unsure if he should even be asking such a thing, lest you reject him.
Your heart flooded - every bit of it screaming yes, please, yes -
“Oh, I don’t want to intrude on you and your mother -”
“Please, you won’t be - and I want to... I want to talk to you, if that’s okay with you.”
You were powerless to stop the smile that spread across your face from doing so, and without wasting a second more you once again, though a bit slower this time, made your way to the door of Arthur’s apartment, finding yourself giggling a bit at how he ushered you right inside with a welcoming “come on in”.
“Happy? Who is that?” The woman who was sat in a chair in the living room called out, and you could only assume that that was Arthur’s mother.
“Ma - this is Y/N. She’s the new neighbor, and she brought us something.”
“Ohhh..” She mused playfully. “So you’re the nice girl that my Happy was going on about before.”
What  - really?
Arthur groaned at this, not bothering to hide his embarrassment as he padded into their small kitchen, where he set the plate of cookies on the counter top. “Mom, hush about it…” 
The way your heart swelled with warmth at seeing Arthur interact with his mother was one of the most foreign feelings you’d ever experienced. During one of your past, brief talks in the hallway had he admitted to you that he lived with her, and he was so hushed about it, as if he were embarrassed to admit that he was a grown man living with his mother. He was quick to explain that she was old and ill so he’d moved in to take care of her - something he did very well, he stressed - and you tried to quell his worry that you judged his living arrangements by telling him how sweet that was, something he seemed almost relieved to hear.
“This is my mother, Penny. Penny Fleck,” He said, the warmth in his voice unwavering, as he led you into their living room. You could tell how much he loved his mother, and it was incredibly admirable to you how you could only presume that day in and day out he scarified a lot to make sure she was taken care of. “She insisted on staying up for the new year, so - so I thought that maybe you’d like to come in and maybe stay for it, too.” 
Arthur rubbed at the back of his neck shyly, keeping his gaze on the television as the newscaster was going on about Gotham’s typical celebrations for the new year. A large clock near Gotham Square that read the time, and the second it struck midnight, a barrage of fireworks would go off, and those gathered around would throw their hats, coats, gloves, whatever, up into the air in glee. It was a long standing tradition, apparently, but there were still a good few hours before that - and you couldn’t help but feel a bit excited that you would get to spend them with Arthur.
“How old are you, Y/N?” Penny asked out of the blue, and you couldn’t help but stutter out a laugh at how bold of a question it was, once you’d taken a seat on their couch. Arthur was sat next to you, and you couldn’t help but be incredibly aware of how close he was sitting to you. 
“Mom, c’mon, don’t start with that -” 
“Oh, please, Happy. I’m just curious.” She said, looking from him to you, expectantly. 
“I’m 23.” You said after a second of silence, unsure if you should even admit how young you were, out of the worry that it would completely sully any sort of feelings Arthur had for you, regardless of whether they were platonic or more - assuming he even had any to begin with.
“Oh you’re so young - and you’re really talking to my son, of all people?” 
“Mom!” 
“Ha, Ms. Fleck - it’s not like that, really; we’re just... friends.” You spoke carefully, trying to not assume Arthur’s friendship or anything. “He’s the only one that’s been friendly since I’ve gotten here.”
“That’s how it is here; all day on the news, more and more bad stuff.” Penny spoke with a sigh, her head lolling to the side a bit as she kept her eyes fixed on the television, and you and Arthur exchanged a brief look. “Anyway, Happy said you brought something?” 
And with that, things flowed easily. Though it was awkward, much more so than you’d anticipated, you could feel your infatuation with Arthur growing as the night went on. You learned more about him, as the conversations went on; you’d known he was an aspiring comedian from a previous talk, but now he even offered to read you some of his jokes - however Penny was quick to quiet him down, insisting that you’d probably prefer funny jokes, a jab which hurt you, but Arthur... took like it was nothing. They seemed surprised to learn that you were completely on your own, living in such a big, new city, and how absolutely genuine Arthur sounded when he said that you needed to be careful because the people around were always so rude made you bite your lip.
You could’ve sworn that every now and then Arthur would take a peek at you, his eyes looking over your face as you watched the television, but you told yourself that you were just anxious, and that your anxiety was getting you all worked up and making you imagine things. Penny’s questions never stopped, though; she asked you anything and everything ranging from what you did for a living, if you were in school, your family, even your past relationships - the last of the two being things you skit around vaguely, not going too much into detail about.
As the night went on, you and Arthur had slowly scoot closer together, though not close enough to actually be touching each other. You could feel the warmth radiating off of him, and every circuit in your brain that had been hardwired to make you hesitant when it came to physical touch felt as if they were short circuiting, and the urge to do something, even if it was just to rest your head on his shoulder, grew harder and harder to ignore.
You and Arthur made simple conversation whenever Penny’s attention was focused on the TV; anything the two of you could find to bond over was, and through so many words could you piece together things about him that he hadn’t directly told you. His loneliness, his lack of any interpersonal relationships, Gotham’s habit of treating him much harsher than a man as kind as he was could ever deserve; the more the two of you spoke, the more you could see bits and pieces of the self he kept hidden - his worries, the depression that seemed to have made its home in his psyche who knew how long ago, the peculiar way he viewed the world and those around him, and the like. You’d known from previous, short conversations with other tenants that Arthur was that neighbor; Arthur was the one that everyone would avoid, the one pegged as weird, and unstable - the one that made everyone uncomfortable. To you, though, Arthur was none of that; while no, you still didn’t know him that well and you could easily tell that he wasn’t exactly conventional (you had a feeling there was some sort of concealed darkness, almost, that was lurking inside of him), you could tell that he was, genuinely, a kind soul who wanted nothing more than to just spread joy and laughter - the mission he told you was his purpose in life, something you couldn’t help but smile fondly at.
Eventually, Arthur deemed Penny too tired to be able to remain awake long enough to ring in the new year wit the two of you - she’d dozed off mid-sentence twice - and after some minor protest from her she gave in, and Arthur helped her to bed. In the whopping thirty seconds he was gone with her for, you took in as much of their apartment as you could; the wall-paper that was peeling in some spots, and chipping in others (and was that a bullet hole…?), the small desk that was nestled in the corner which you assumed was where Arthur spent the majority of his free time, that yellow hoodie of his that had become such a comforting sight to see hanging up near the door, the stacks of VHS tapes of the Murray Franklin show piled on top of and underneath their television stand - every little detail that your eyes could pick up on that might tell you just a little bit more about the man you had fallen so hard for.
“Sorry about that…” Arthur muttered once he came back into the living room, returning to his spot next to on the couch, though further from you than he had been previously. “She can get... like that, sometimes.” He said, obviously still a bit embarrassed by how his mother had asked so many personal questions, completely unabashed. He seemed both relieved that his mother wasn’t there to pester you anymore and even more tense, now that it was just the two of you alone. You couldn’t help but notice how his hands were clenching the thigh fabric of his pants as he sat, his eyes fixed on the television, his right leg bouncing slightly.
“Oh, it’s fine. It was kinda funny, actually.” You dismissed his concern with a wave of your hand, leaning back in your seat, something Arthur shook his head at, sighing softly something about you being too understanding.
“I do it more, now, you know.” You said after a few minutes of neither of you speaking.
Arthur looked at you, his dark brows furrowed as he tried to work out what you meant.
“Smile. I smile more, now - ever since you told me I should. Or I try to, at least.” 
“I - really?” Arthur asked, and he sounded so surprised that it was almost childlike. 
“Mhm,” You nodded, entirely too shy to look away from the TV, which was bright with the colors from Gotham Square. “It’s helped - Oh, hey, look! It’s almost time!” 
Which it was; the bright red numbers of the clock were ticking down with less than five minutes left until it was the new year. Gotham was the liveliest you had ever seen it, and it almost made you a bit sad, if you were being honest with yourself - occasionally, did you wish that you were bolder of a person; someone who could go out, interact, and get together with others. You liked being alone, you really did, but you disliked feeling so lonely - though that was the aspect of solitude that you’d grown most used to, unfortunately.
Sitting in Arthur’s living room though, in his presence - it was the first time in years that you didn’t feel as alone. You and Arthur were still new with each other; this was the longest you’d spend with him, and you still didn’t know very much about him, nor did he about you. It was still a bit awkward, with neither of you really sure how to talk with the other, but something about the situation, something about Arthur, made you feel less alone in the cold, unforgiving city that was Gotham. Even if you two just remained acquaintances, only giving each other passing Hellos and Goodbyes in the hallway, you’d be okay with that - because it meant that you’d still get to see him, and that was enough. 
“Y/N?” 
Arthur’s voice pulled you from your thoughts.
“Yeah?”
“Why would someone as nice as you move to a city as awful as this one?” 
Arthur’s elbows were resting on his thighs, his hands clasped together as his eyes were fixed on the coffee table in front of the television. He looked deep in thought - as if something had been bothering him, and though his question was presented as one born from sheer curiosity, the genuine confusion that it was laced with didn’t go unnoticed by you.
You shrugged. “I guess I was just… looking for something. I don’t know what, though. Maybe change, or I hoped that moving here would make me feel better, make me feel like I was a part of things, if you get what I mean.” 
Arthur actually chuckled a small bit at this. “Yeah, I do.” He said quietly, before sighing and running a hand through his now dry hair - a simple action that you couldn’t help but find adorable. 
You were relieved that the booming of the fireworks from the television (which you could also hear from outside, though muffled) coupled with the cheering of the crowd was loud enough to occupy the silence that would’ve fallen between the two of you, as you feared that if it had grown quiet enough then Arthur would’ve been able to actually hear how hard your heart was pounding.
As the festivities died down and people began to retreat from the streets and return to their homes, you figured that it was time for you to to the same and head back to your own apartment. Arthur walked you to the door, thanking you once again for the baked treats you’d brought over, something you said you’d happily do again if he and his mother liked them.
Once you were in the empty hallway with Arthur lingering in the doorway, you couldn’t ignore the subtle feeling of melancholy that had washed over you, now that the reality of the situation was settling in and soon you’d be without the contentment that was Arthur’s presence.
“Thanks for having me over for a bit - it meant a lot, seriously.”
“Of course - I didn’t think want you to be alone.” 
Oh, how you wished you could stay in that moment forever; the way Arthur smiled that gentle, fond smile that you’d grown to love at you as he spoke, though he kept his eyes from looking you in your own, made your heart melt into a puddle of what you could only describe as the feeling of pure bliss. 
But alas, with it being past midnight and your fatigue from the day creeping up on you, you knew that you couldn't stay any longer and that the two of you needed to part for the night. You had no idea when you’d get the chance to see Arthur again, and your heart sank as you knew there was a good chance that it wouldn’t be for quite awhile, given the difference in your schedule - but that’s just how life went. No sense in lingering on it.
“Maybe I’ll see you around?” You asked in a manner that as awfully reminiscent of your first meeting, and Arthur nodded.
“Of course you will - I’m right here.” He said, not bothering to hide the mischievous grin that adorned his face, knowing fully what you were playing at. “And Y/N - happy new year.” 
“Yeah, you too, Arthur.” You smiled at him as you turned around to head back to your own apartment. “Something tells me that this one is going to be a little bit better.”
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taglist;
@tahliamalfoydepp​ @tsukiakarinobara​ @smol-nari​ @ajokeformur-ray​ (let me know if you’d like to be added!)
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deliasbabe · 5 years ago
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Forget about me, Darling - Cordelia x Reader
Description: Cordelia and reader deal with Cordelia fading during apocalypse. The ending to “You Deserve the World”.
Warnings: MAJOR ANGST AND DENIAL, this shit hurt
Word count:  3,748
“Y/N, It’s almost 3am. You need to get some rest, love.” Cordelia said softly, catching you sitting on the couch in the library, your head in your hands and a spell book cracked open on your lap. It had been three days since Madison had returned from that house in Los Angeles, three days since you learned that the boy who was supposed to be the next supreme wasn’t a supreme at all, he wasn’t even a warlock. He was the Anti-Christ, and he had picked your loving girlfriend as his next target.
You had tried to bury your feelings. You had tried to be strong and supportive for Cordelia. Always there when she needed you, the shoulder to cry on, the smile when she needed it the most, because it wasn’t about you, was it? It was about her, about protecting the girls from danger, and she didn’t need to have to pick up your broken pieces too. It just wasn’t about you.
But that night, after you heard about one of Cordelia’s fainting spells, you cracked, tucking yourself away in the library with one of the books from Cordelia’s office, one of the books she wouldn’t dare let the girls touch. It was a last resort, a desperate cling onto the life you were supposed to have. None of the other books had a spell strong enough, and you were more than willing to risk your life if it meant Cordelia could live. You were certain that Cordelia’s ailments were the result of Michael’s dark forces, that he was the one doing this to her, and you couldn’t live with yourself if you just sat by and idly watched. You hadn’t been at the academy very long, definitely not long enough to be at the level needed to master what you were trying to do, but you knew you had to power to, you had to, there wasn’t another option.
You shook your head, not even bothering to look up at your girlfriend. “I need to get this.” You muttered, fighting off exhaustion with every fiber of your being. You were surprised she even found you, knowing she went to bed hours earlier, too exhausted to even stay up to make sure the girls were in bed like she always did. You thought you were safe, but then again, your girlfriend knew you better than you knew yourself, and it wasn’t entirely uncommon for her to have to drag you to bed.
Cordelia shook her head at your stubbornness, moving to perch next to you on the loveseat and tucking a stray hair behind your ear. Even in her deteriorated state, she still was trying to take care of you, and you cursed yourself for even forcing her to get out of bed. “You can work on it tomorrow.” Cordelia said softly as you shook your head once again, “You need sleep. You’re wearing yourself too thin.”
“I’ll only work for a little while longer then I’ll come join you.” You said quietly, hoping the sweetness of your tone might make her concede. You didn’t dare look to meet your supreme’s gaze, knowing once she saw your red rimmed eyes it was game over, if it wasn’t already. You knew if she looked in your eyes she would see the sheer desperation, and you didn’t want that, didn’t want to burden her with your own pain. Tomorrow, you could shove everything back down and plaster on a smile, you just needed tonight, needed to let the demons run wild for even just a few hours. You just needed to get this right.
But Cordelia could see past your sweet words, could see the way your brows were crinkled together, the way your usually graceful movements were sharp and frazzled, could hear the frustration behind your tone. She knew your dedication was a force to be reckoned with, but she was the voice of reason that had permanently etched itself into the back of your brain. Always calm, always gentle, usually right. She ran her hand up and down your back, noticing how you tensed at her touch and recoiled slightly. She tried to sooth you into bed, but that just made it all worse. You buried your fingers in your hair, digging your nails into your scalp and tugging on the roots, needing some sort of release for all this frustration, all this pain. “I have to get it.” You spit out between gritted teeth, Cordelia’s eyes widening at the shift in tone.
“You will, baby.” She tried to soothe, not understanding how a spell could get you this worked up, “But you need to give it time. Your powers are still growing.”
“We don’t have time.” You practically growled as you lost any last bit of self-control you possessed. It wasn’t her fault, you knew she didn’t deserve it, but every second she tried to soothe you was one less second you had to get this right, and your time was limited. You had dealt with loss before. It was the one constant, but in finding Cordelia you were able to move past it, and now all that progress, all that love, was slipping out of your grasp like sand. It was a race against the clock, and you were losing. “I need to be able to do this.” You said quietly, tears welling behind your eyelids, making your voice waver ever so slightly. She deserved an apology, you knew she did, but it was all you could do to not burst into tears on the spot, and she knew that.
“Do what?” Cordelia asked, her tone quickly shifting to one of concern. You were never like this, hadn’t so much as raised your voice to her. The only time you ever got angry was at yourself, you always were too hard on yourself. “What are you working on?” She asked, now ready to help in whatever way she could as she reached for the book.
You quickly tugged the book out of her grasp, making her gasp in shock, “Give it back. I need to focus.” It was the first time you had bothered to meet her gaze, and she could see the animalistic look in your eye. It scared her, but what scared her more was the way you pressed the book to your chest, gripping it so tightly your knuckles turned white.
“Y/N, just let me look so I know how to help you.” She said, feeling her anxiety pick up in her chest as you shook your head and got teary eyed, “Baby what is it?” You didn’t respond, and she let herself glance down at the book in your arms, recognizing the title immediately as dread filled her stomach. She knew what was in that book, and yes, it was mostly advanced spells, but it also contained dark magic, and by the way you were acting, you had something to hide. She blinked rapidly, not knowing how to handle the situation. You were always responsible, always careful. You were the one she never had to worry about.
The color drained from your face, sniffling a little as you carefully set the book down. You knew what she was thinking, and as much as you didn’t want to admit it to her, you had to tell the truth. “Y/N…” Cordelia began carefully, “You know I don’t want any of the girls practicing dark magic.”
“It’s not dark magic.” You stated, watching her hesitate to believe you, “It’s a protection spell.” Cordelia looked confused and utterly dazed, and you couldn’t help but hide your face, knowing in only a matter of moments all your pain would be out on display, tears streaming down your cheeks. You knew she would never let you complete it, wouldn’t let you master it, because protection spells always came with a catch. Energy could not be created nor destroyed, even in magic. For the tamer protection spells it simply made you weaker, temporarily, in order to account for the energy transferred to its target. But with one this strong, especially if your powers weren’t at their full potential, there was a higher risk. It could kill you, and she wouldn’t have that, wouldn’t let you even take that chance.
It must have been the late hour, because your usually sharp supreme clearly wasn’t getting what you were trying to say. “For who?” She asked after prying your hands away from your face and lifting your chin, her heart breaking once she saw the tears. There was nothing more she hated than to see you cry, to know you were in pain and not be able to help.
“For you.” You whispered, grasping onto the ends of the book tightly as you looked away from the pure devastation on her face. “I just have to try a few more times. I know I can do it.” You say forcefully once Cordelia tried to pry the book from your grasp. If she took it, then it would all be over, and you just couldn’t give this up.
She didn’t say anything for a few moments, didn’t know what to say. She hadn’t been truthful with you about what was going on, wanted to save you from the pain of her dying and knowing there was nothing you could do about it. You had seen her faint, had carried her to bed more times than she could count, but you never asked questions, you always were just there, and she couldn’t believe she had missed all the signs. Couldn’t believe she hadn’t bothered to check on you. You always were there for everyone else, but she was the one person who was there for you, and she wasn’t when you needed her the most.
Truthfully, as displeased as she was about waking up in the middle of the night and not finding you there beside her, she was glad she had forced herself out of bed to check on you. Glad she was there to stop yourself from giving up everything, all for nothing. knowing your determination, you would have eventually gotten the spell to work, would have drained yourself of the very life force Cordelia loved desperately. Even if you hadn’t, if you had given up and gone to bed, Cordelia knew if she hadn’t gotten up that she would never know, never know how broken you truly were. You would push it all away and plaster on a smile, and Cordelia would be blind once again.
“Baby, put it down.” Cordelia finally said gently. Snot was dripping down your face and mingling with your tears, running into your mouth, but you refused to lift one of your hands to wipe at it, knowing the second you did the book would be gone and you would have to succumb to failure. You shook your head as the tears fell faster, and this wasn’t how you expected this night to go. She wasn’t supposed to find out, she was never supposed to find out, and you felt your chest get tight as another sob was lodged in your throat. Just another way you failed her. Pieces of you were falling everywhere, and all you could do was let it happen.
But there Cordelia was again, lifting your chin and forcing you to look at her, her own tears flowing now as she stroked your wet cheek. “Love,” She said, her voice soft and wavering, “Put it down so I can hold you.”
Before you knew it the book was thrown to the floor. You weren’t sure if Delia tugged you towards her or if you dived forward, but soon she was on her back with you fully on top of her, pressing your head to her chest as you cried hysterically. It must have been impossible for her to breathe, but she didn’t dare shift you, so you took it upon yourself to shift your body between the back of the couch and her, squeezing into the tiny space. She gave a breathy laugh, marveling at how even in your darkest moments you still were trying to make it easy for her, like you were trying to make your pain as convenient as possible.
“I don’t need protecting.” Cordelia said softly, carding her hands through your hair, dreading having to face the conversation head on, “There’s nothing you can do.”
“Yes I can.” You said, your voice muffled from your face being buried, “It’s because of him. I can stop it; I know I can.”
“My sweet girl…” Cordelia mused, trying her hardest to not kiss you. If she kissed you, she wouldn’t be able to do it. If she kissed you, it would make her forget about the inevitable. You always helped her forget, but you weren’t forgetting, and she couldn’t bear to string you along, not after this. “It’s not because of him, baby. He’s not hurting me. I’m… I’m fading.”
She felt you still at this, like if you didn’t move maybe you could disappear and the truth would go and find someone else to haunt. But when it didn’t dissipate you shook your head, muttering, “No, no, no. No way, it can’t be.” You had dealt with the idea of her fading before, when Michael was crowned supreme, but you pushed it away when you learned the truth. If Cordelia was fading, then there was a new supreme rising, but it couldn’t possibly be, you couldn’t imagine a world where there wasn’t Cordelia.
Fresh tears fell from your supreme as she rested her lips against your forehead and nodded, “It’s true. I can feel it, and there’s nothing we can do about it. Nothing you can do about it.”
“No, no, no.” You repeated, curling into her even further, like she could banish the grief that threatened to consume you. Your mind was revolting against you with no semblance of clear thought. Even learning the world would end was easier than this, because if the world was gone than so were you. But you built a life with Cordelia, you made plans, concrete plans, with marriage and kids and a dog named Skipper. You had the ring hidden in your sock drawer, had planned to propose before things had gotten so messy. You had a plan, and Cordelia dying was not part of that plan. “It could be something else.” You said, pushing away the tears that threatened to fall and launching yourself into a sitting position, “It could be a vision, like the rotting.” You said, continuing to list off every possible thing it could be, anything that would help your utter rejection that the most important person in your life would suddenly not be there anymore.
Cordelia sat and listened to your rambling patiently, never cutting in to dispute, despite her knowing that her words were true. She didn’t want to push, she never pushed, and she knew you had to work through this in your own way, despite her heart shattering into smaller and smaller pieces every time you came up with something else. But as much as she tried to pretend she was listening intently, as you rambled on her eyes filled with tears, wishing she could do anything to take this pain away. She knew about the ring, had known since the day you bought it. Coco was never very good with secrets, and she had let it slip that very night after too much tequila. She knew you had held off, wanting your engagement to be blissful and uneventful, that you had planned an evening full of dinner and romance and a trip to all the favorite places you shared. Worst of all, she knew that day would never come, that as hard as she tried to give you the world, the one you two built was crashing down, never to be repaired.
In a way, dying was the easier part of the deal. Her world just stopped, a finite end, but you, you had to live. Had to spend the rest of your days coping with yet another death you had no say in. Had to wonder what might have been. The supreme didn’t know when exactly the world would end, didn’t know if she would live to see it, but something in her told her you would survive, because your story wasn’t finished. It couldn’t be finished, Cordelia was merely a part of it, a chapter in a never ending book, and she was grateful for the time she had, the time she would have.
Eventually, your rambles stopped, out of options, and you had to face the truth. You didn’t want to say it, couldn’t bear to mutter the words, so you sat silently, praying if this was a nightmare that you would wake up soon. You knew Cordelia wanted to hold you, wanted to banish the darkness from every corner of your mind, but you wouldn’t allow yourself the reprieve. Avoidance had always been your specialty, but you couldn’t avoid this, you had to say it.
“You’re dying.” You finally whispered as the sun began to peek up, Cordelia staring at you with heartbroken eyes, like she was hearing it for the first time. There was a finality when you spoke it, a second wave of grief she didn’t know existed, and she quickly wiped her tears and nodded.
“Yea, baby. I am.” Cordelia said softly, tugging you back toward her and circling her arms around you like a small child. Finally, you allowed yourself that reprieve, burying your head into the crook of her neck, knowing that no matter what happened, she would keep you safe.
In the blink of an eye she had transmutated you both to the bedroom, spell book in hand. She quickly threw it on her nightstand then turned back to you, your eyes swollen and red. Normally you would hold her, would let her rest her head on your chest and whisper soothing things in her ear. But tonight wasn’t about her, tomorrow and every day after would be about her, you would make sure of that. Tonight was about you, so with one swift motion she pulled you close, pressing her lips to your forehead and humming softly as she trailed her fingertips down your spine, giving you no choice but to sleep.
A few weeks later hellfire rained down on the academy, Michael fulfilling his promise and killing most of the witches. Cordelia was beside herself, and you did your best to comfort her. The identity spell had left her weak, and you laid with her on Misty’s bed, gently running your hands through her hair in an effort to calm her restless mind. You asked what you could do, how you could help, but your supreme brushed you off, telling you she had a plan for you, but refusing to elaborate on what that plan was.
You two had managed to fall asleep in exactly that position, and Cordelia woke before you the next morning, ready to put her plan into action. It was harder than she thought it would be, especially when you woke up the second she moved off the bed. “Shh, love. I’m right here, go back to sleep.” She soothed, hoping you didn’t open your eyes and see the tears that were streaked down her face. She had this plan for months, she just didn’t know if she could go through with it.
“Love you.” You sleepily muttered out, and through her tears she grinned. Even now, when the world was practically in shambles, you still where there showering her with love and affection.
“I love you too, so much. You have no idea, but you need to sleep now. Forget about me, darling.” She whispered back, stroking your hair as you pushed your cheek into her palm, making her laugh.
“Never.” You muttered, and in an instant you were fast asleep, her touch being the only thing you needed to calm you. You trusted Cordelia whole heartedly, wherever she led you would follow, you knew she would keep you safe, and that was exactly what she intended to do.
For you, the identity spell was a little different. You still were yourself, just as stubborn and caring as ever, but all your memories, everything about the coven, about Cordelia, was wiped away without a trace. Cordelia didn’t just want you alive, she wanted you happy, and as much as she didn’t want you to forget about her, as much as she would never forget about you, she knew you had to. It was easier with the girls, she knew she would see them again, break them out of their haze. But this was the last time she would see you, and she tried to memorize the lines on your face, the way you frowned when she finally removed her hand and reached for the white powder. Even if Mallory succeeded, things would never be the same, and as she went to leave, she pressed one more lingering kiss to your head, and stared at your sleeping form for just a moment longer.
When you woke she was gone, and as you glanced around the unfamiliar space, your eyes landed on a piece of paper tucked under the pillow she once resided on. You lifted it to see a one-way ticket to small island off the coast of New Zealand. It was a place you had always dreamed of going, and unbeknownst to you, an island Michael had accidentally left off of his plans. Along with it were your passport, car keys, and a brand new debit card. Cordelia had made sure of it that you would never have to worry about money again, and had transferred everything she had to you. She wanted to make sure you were taken care of no matter what.
You didn’t know where it came from, didn’t even know how you had gotten there, but you weren’t one to ask questions. Your bag was packed, and there really wasn’t anything left for you to do but go, and you wandered out the door and down the path to the main road, spotting a car parked there. You didn’t look behind you, you had no reason to, but if you did, you might have spotted a woman dressed in all black staring back at you, and you might have stopped, but you didn’t. You just kept on walking.
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werejusttouchingeachother · 5 years ago
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Dirty Sinner
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Words: 6048
Genre: smut (m)
Pairing: Kai x reader
Warning: dom!Kai, sliiiight angst if you look hard enough lol
A/N: Happy Birthday, cousin (pt 3--its the final one, I swear) also this entire thing was inspired by the gifs of the W Korea photoshoot and those gifs oNLY
One would think that the fact that he's your brother's best friend would be enough of a reason to not fuck him behind your brother's back. 
But no, you had to pick him even though he was the one guy who was famous too.
Hundreds of friends and yet, you picked the best friend, the idol: 
EXO's Kai. 
Of course, like most bad decisions, it wasn't intentional. You'd grown up around a lot of guys, thanks to your brother being the most outgoing, friendly guy that there is. And most of these guys only ever considered you as a younger sister--Jongin included. 
Until about two months ago when there was a party at your place. 
You'd been the perfect balance between tipsy and drunk, just one vodka shot away from losing your memories of the rest of the night. The crowd had gotten suffocating and you'd escaped upstairs to your bedroom, long after midnight when a majority of the people were shitfaced-drunk, including your brother. It was when you were stumbling to your bathroom that you'd ran into Jongin. You'd tripped on your heels and he'd caught your arms, steadying you.
You still remember what you wore. It was one of your favourite dresses--a dark navy lace that moulded your body with a deep plunging neckline that made your brother frown at all the cleavage you'd displayed oh-so-generously. 
A decision that was difficult to regret especially when Jongin's eyes had lingered there for a moment before meeting your eyes. He'd surprisingly been sober and you still cannot recall whether it had been intentional on your part or not but you lost your balance in his arms, causing him to fall back on the wall with you up against him. 
It had taken only a second of eye-contact before Jongin was kissing his best friend's little sister. One moan from you and he was shoving you into your bathroom, locking the door behind him as he lifted you onto the sink, lips finding yours again hungrily. 
However, it didn't last for long. Right when you'd started tugging at his shirt impatiently, he'd grabbed your hand and stopped you, stepping away.
"You're drunk," he'd said. "We shouldn't be doing this. Your brother will kill me." 
Before you could even stop him, he'd left you there in that bathroom, feeling cold and incredibly frustrated. 
You didn't leave your room after that, feeling angry at yourself for how disappointed you were because he'd left. It shouldn't have mattered but it did and you couldn't get that kiss out of your head. 
And apparently he couldn't either cause when it was close to 3AM and the music had died down and when you were certain everyone had passed out on all possible surfaces of your house except your room, you heard your door open. 
Jongin had stood there, eyes dark and intense as they gazed at you and you had glared at him. 
"What?" You had snapped at him. "Isn't my brother supposed to be killing you for something that he never even knew?" 
At that, he'd raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? We're going to play the 'what he doesn't know won't kill him' game?" 
"As opposed to the game of eye-fucking each other across the room and pretending to ignore the sexual tension everytime we're together?" Narrowing your eyes at him, you'd seethed, "Yeah, don't think I didn't notice all the glances you gave me all night." 
"You're his kid sister. I literally watched you grow up."
"Bullshit. The last both my brother and I saw of you was when you two were in middle school and then it was only after you debuted. Both you and I have changed plenty during that time and you know it." 
Jongin had stepped into the room then, his back pressed against the door as he digested your words. 
"I'm not a kid anymore, Jongin," you had said, leaning back on your headboard as you pulled your knees to your chest absentmindedly. His eyes had immediately dropped lower, following the movement and even before the wicked idea could form in your head, you were already spreading your thighs and displaying your thong that peeked through the dress that had hiked up considerably now. 
You heard the familiar click-sound as his fingers locked the door shut behind him and like a man in a trance, he had strode to the bed and pounced on you in an almost animalistic frenzy, hands and mouth everywhere. 
The way that you had unintentionally moaned 'Kai' after the first orgasm he gave you that night--or morning--dawned the realisation upon both of you that it wouldn't be the last time you'd be doing this. 
A realisation that the two of you had abided by as Kai now marked up your neck in the downstairs bathroom of your house, grinding into your thigh while the guys were immersed in their game of PubG in the living room--a perfect excuse to disappear without anyone noticing especially since Baekhyun kept yelling, "DIE DIE YAAAAAAAAAAAA!" 
Except that now--almost two months after the first time in your room--you felt things differently than earlier. 
It had started last week. Your brother had left town for a couple days, your parents weren't home so of course you called him over. After the party, it was mostly quickies here and there so this was a golden opportunity for both of you. Kai had driven over immediately, you had fucked in all possible places of the house in all sorts of positions and you remember thinking that if you died from having too much sex, it'd probably be a great way to go. Especially if it was with Kai. 
But then he had stayed the night. You'd laid on his chest and he'd ordered pizza around 1AM and you'd worn his shirt that was too big for you while answering the Dominoes delivery man at the door and he'd waited for you on the carpet of your living room with a stupidly cute grin on his face. 
You knew you were fucked when you woke up feeling warm in his arms that were wrapped snugly around you, his face buried in your neck. You knew you were truly fucked when he'd smiled right as he woke up and saw you with the tray of toast and coffee, putting it aside and pulling you back into bed with him for some lazy morning sex. You knew you were truly royally fucked when the two of you stood pressed up against your front door when he had to leave, neither of you making the move to leave--until he had to run upstairs and escape from your window when you two heard the sound of your brother's car in the driveway. 
And when you'd fallen back into your bed, smiling and wrapped yourself in the sheets that smelled like him? 
Yeah. Fucked. Both literally and metaphorically. 
Of course, it hadn't been like this the whole time. At first, it was the risk of what you were doing, or rather who you were doing--sneaking around your brother's back, the thrill of getting caught, the way you'd drive him up the walls by calling him Jongin in public and screaming Kai when you both were alone, the way he'd have you struggling to keep it together when you were around your brother by giving you a certain look or by straying his hand farther down your back or sending you a dirty message on your phone at the dinner table while you sat with everyone and of course, the fact that you were having the best sex of your life with one of the sexiest KPop idols on a regular basis. But now, as you watched your reflection in the bathroom mirror, held up against the door while he thrusted into your clothed core, you couldn't ignore the feeling of fluttering butterflies over the usual impending-orgasm-tightening of your stomach. 
"Fuck," you gasped, closing your eyes as you felt Kai come over your panty and bare thighs, your own orgasm soaking through your underwear. 
You breathed hard as you looked at him, your eyes moving from the back of his head that you could see in the mirror to his face as he pulled away from your neck. He smiled at you then, setting off your heart in an erratic pace that had your insides turn to mush as you stared at him. 
Post-sex Kai was the most beautiful Kai that you'd ever seen: his honey skin flushed with an ethereal glow, all the blood rushed to his cheeks, sweat glistening on his forehead and his lips swollen. 
You swallowed thickly as you blinked at him and he ducked his head towards yours, mouth going to meet yours and you quickly say it before you can second-think it or stop yourself, 
"We need to stop this." 
Kai's mouth moves to your throat instead as he licks a long stripe from your collarbone to your ear. "Hmm?"
"We should stop this," you repeat, your heart pounding in your ears. You then have to force the next words out, "Kai, stop, I'm not fucking around." 
You place your hands on his chest to push him off you and see him blink at you, as if in a daze. 
"Well," he said, still grinning coyly. "We aren't fucking around right now. But we could--" 
"I'm serious." 
The smile falls off his face, his playful expression turning somber in an instant. 
"What's going on?" He asked. 
"You're my brother's best friend," you state, moving your hands to your back where it was out of his sight since they were slightly trembling. "I'm his sister. He trusts both of us and we--we're doing this. I feel like the worst sister." 
"Y/N, what--" 
"He trusts me, Jongin." The use of his real name makes him scowl slightly as he realises you're serious. 
Oh, if only he knew. 
"He said this thing the other day," you continued, forcing yourself to maintain eye-contact so that the lies you were spouting wouldn't be as obvious. "He said that he's glad he can trust me and that I'm honest with him. It made me feel like shit." 
No, he didn't, but what did make you feel like shit was when your phone would light up with a notification from 'Jongin' that had you grinning like an idiot. 
You cleared your throat, tugging down your skirt that he had bunched up around your waist. 
"Y/N," Kai, no, Jongin said your name in a tone you'd never heard him use before, making you look at him. 
"What's going on?" He asked seriously. "Did he see the last text that I sent you or something? Did he find out?" 
"No," you rolled your eyes as you straightened from the door. "No, he didn't. I just feel guilty. I feel like a... sinner." 
"Isn't that what you like though?" 
His tone makes you glance up, right as he takes a step towards you. With dark eyes focused on you, he places one hand on the door right near your waist, the other reaching for below your skirt and you feel his finger trace up your thigh before raising it to your mouth. 
Your lips part open reflexively and he smirks in satisfaction, letting your mouth wrap around his long digit, allowing you to slightly taste the cum that he had collected from his earlier orgasm that was still on you. 
"See?" He whispers, hot breath fanning your face as you stare up at him with your eyes wide open. 
"You love this," Kai mutters. "You're a dirty sinner, Y/N, and you love it." 
You closed your eyes, feeling your resolve break down momentarily before snapping your eyes open, grabbing his hand and pulling it out of your mouth.
"I'm serious, Jongin," you mutter, voice cracking. You shove him back, straightening your clothes. "This--we can't--we're stopping. That's it. Go play with the guys, they're waiting."
And with that, you left a stunned Kai Jongin in the bathroom and headed to your bedroom where you locked yourself in for the rest of the night before leaving to stay at a friend's place in the morning--a place where your cowardly self could hide out for days and sort out your messy emotions without having to worry about running into Kai. 
"I literally do not understand why you need me there," you said exasperatedly, your fingers pressed to the bridge of your nose as you listened to your brother on the phone. 
"Y/N, its been a week," he stated as if you didn't already know. "You've been crashing at Soojin's place for a week. I'm starting to think you hate me or something."
"You know it's not that," you reply, sighing. "I'll just spend a few more days with her before coming back." 
He stays quiet for a moment before finally giving up on arguing with you. "Fine. But you have to come tonight." 
"Again, I repeat, I don't understand why you--"
"Mom and Dad went for a trip, Y/N. Do you know when was the last time we had the house to ourselves?" 
Yes, you wanted to say. Yes, I know exactly when--approximately two months ago which was around the time that Jongin's vacation had started and you'd thrown a 'welcome back home' party for him that had transcended into a private party in my room where he had shifted from your middle-school best friend Jongin to my secret fuckbuddy Kai.
But of course, you couldn't say that so you went, "No, I don't know." 
"It's been months," he stated in his typical exaggerated fashion. "I would be insane if I didn't throw a party tonight. Its written in the stars, Y/N, karma will literally be out for you if you miss your favourite brother's legendary party tonight." 
"You're my only brother," you state wryly.
"Bitch, I will drive up there and hit you." 
You laugh slightly and shake your head, biting your lip as you considered the possibility. You were tempted to ask if he would be there but you knew he would, it'd be stupid to assume he wouldn't come. 
It's been a whole week since you saw him, heard him and touched him.
You sigh and finally give up as you glance at Soojin who raised an eyebrow at you. 
"I'll be there," you mutter, smiling as you hear your brother cheer in victory. "Don't open the vodka bottles that I bought last month before I get there or I'll murder you." 
"Get here fast then," he retorted and you two abruptly hung up. 
"You're going for the party," Soojin said wryly even before you could say a word. 
You nodded in defeat, looking up at her hopefully. "Will you come with me?"
She snorted, crossing her arms. "Why, so I can watch you run around the house, trying to avoid Kai? No, thanks." 
Soojin was the only one who you'd confided in with your dirty secret and she had given you advice that had terrified you to no ends: 
"Just tell him you like him." 
"Oh come on, Y/N!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in frustration as she watches you fidget on her couch. "I don't understand what you're so worried about. Given the fact that you two have been sleeping around like bunnies for two months now, I don't think it's likely that he'd reject you."
"He's an idol, Soojin," you say defiantly, raising an eyebrow. "Fucking around and dating are two very different things." 
"Are idols incapable of dating?" She rolled her eyes. "If he can fuck around with you for this long without your brother finding out in his own household, I think he can manage a secret relationship without his agency finding out." 
"Secret relationship?" You screeched, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks. "What the fuck are you saying, we're literally talking about his career here!" 
"Why are you blushing then?" Soojin called you out, narrowing her eyes at you. You threw the cushion at her and she sighed, standing up from the couch.
"I'm not going to argue with you, Y/N," she said, holding up her hands in defense. "But for what it's worth, I think you should tell him the truth cause he's a grown adult who can decide for himself whether he should date or not. So you should confess for your own peace of mind. Cause trust me, unrequited crushes are the worst." She paused, thinking. "Well. You're pretty lucky for someone who has an unrequited crush cause you've fucked him in all possible--"
"Stooooop," you whined, falling back on the couch dramatically. "Don't trigger me, I'm trying not to think about it." 
Soojin smirked, crossing her arms. "Missing the endless sex, Y/N?" 
"Missing is an insufficient word," you grumble, frowning. "I miss my room but sex with Kai is not something I'm missing right now, it's something I'm..." 
You trailed off, trying to think of a word that would match all the emotions you felt when you thought of Kai in your arms, in all his naked glory. 
There was a short silence before Soojin suddenly suggested, "... Craving?" 
"Mm," an involuntary sound that sounded like a half-moan and no where near as appropriate as it did in your head escaped your mouth and your eyes flew to Soojin who was gawking at you, definitely having heard you. 
She burst out laughing as you sat up from the couch, your entire body feeling warm with part-embarrassment and part-other-emotions-that-you-didn't-want-to-name. 
"You're so full of bullshit, Y/N," she giggled, shaking her head and taking your hand as she pulled you up. "Regardless of what you do with him tonight, I'm going to play my job as best friend and dress you up so good that Kai will be crawling to your room on his knees." 
You looked at her, horrified. "That's the exact opposite of what I want." 
"Fine, then," she shrugged, leading you to her room. "He'll see you and push you onto your knees, happy?"
"Soojin, oh my god--"
"Shut up, bitch. This is my house and in my house, I dress you up how I want to, whether you like it or not so shut the fuck up and take off your clothes, we got a slutty Cinderella to create." 
Soojin wasn't joking. 
You'd hoped against hope that she would be but she wasn't and you realised how dutifully she'd stuck to her statement as you entered the living room of your house, immediately feeling all eyes on you. 
Your hair tied up in a complicated updo with a few strands hanging down and framing your face, Soojin had lent you a dress that had surprised you--an ivory-coloured satin dress that hugged your hips and thighs before flaring out slightly at the knees, accentuating your curves in all the right places, with a satin ribbon that crisscrossed at the back like a sort of corset. The only aspect of the dress that you'd hesitated about was the cowl neckline that would be dangerously revealing if you leaned any way too much. 
When Soojin had said 'slutty Cinderella', you'd expected some daring skimpy outfit that showed way too much skin but as your brother waddled to you in a drunken-walk that you were familiar with, you realised that she had sneakily misdirected your thoughts by putting you in an outfit that didn't display anything directly but was teasing and body-shaping enough to leave plenty for the imagination.
Soojin, you evil bitch.
You hugged your brother, crinkling your nose as you smelled the alcohol on him and tried to understand the words that he was slurring drunkenly in your ear. 
Your eyes suddenly caught a movement to the right and you froze in his arms as you saw Kai from over your brother's shoulder, striding out of the kitchen with a drink in his hand. 
He stopped as soon as he saw you, eyes growing wide and your brother stepped away from you right at that moment, leaving you without a shield as Kai's eyes raked over you. 
Your own couldn't help but drink him in--clad in a white shirt that was unbuttoned all the way to his mid-torso with frills at the front that only he could pull off perfectly in that typical-Kai fashion, tucked into black pants that elongated his legs, you felt your throat turn dry as you saw him. 
God, it must be illegal to look that good.
And then Kai's eyes flew back up to meet yours which is when the realisation hit you: 
His clothes were the exact same outfit that you'd admitted to lusting over when you'd seen it at a magazine photoshoot--you'd said that he looked like a groomsman whose jacket you, the bridesmaid, had tossed away and left him in just the white and black underneath. 
And simultaneously, you recalled one night where Kai had especially drawn out the foreplay--you'd worn white lingerie and he'd admitted that he loved seeing you in white cause it gave off the appearance that you were innocent but only he knew how dirty you truly were, especially when he took the white garments off.
You'd mentioned this to Soojin. Not today or yesterday but almost two months back when it had happened, a conversation that even you hadn't remembered until you saw how Kai's eyes darkened from across the room--but apparently that Soojin hadn't forgotten. 
I'm going to fucking kill her.
Kai took a step forwards, eyes still on you and you immediately heard sirens in your head. Hurriedly, you turned and exited through the front door, your legs taking you to the back of the house.
You don't know how many hours you'd spent running away every time that you even caught a glimpse of him. Yes, it was cowardly and yes, it was childish but you couldn't help it. It must have been about two hours later when a majority of the guests were sufficiently drunk that you found your way to the kitchen and had your first drink of the night--the vodka that you'd hidden away. 
You were well into your third shot when you saw Kai in the living room, near the couch. There was a girl dancing around him and you saw the look of disinterest on his face as his eyes flitted around the room before finally finding yours. 
The glass that you were holding froze mid-way to your lips and you watched as his eyes narrowed before he grabbed the waist of the girl in front of him. 
You only saw him roll his hips sensually against her before you whipped your head around, feeling a burn in your chest that you were certain wasn't caused by the vodka.
God, I am so fucked.
Your eyes closed at the realisation and you suddenly felt rage boil through you. 
There's no reason for you to run. You asked for this. You wanted a fuckbuddy and not a relationship. Kai was too boyfriend-material and by the time you'd realised that, it had already been too late. Which was why you left. 
And now you could move on. 
"Fuck it," you muttered to no one in particular as you downed the last of the vodka in your glass, slamming it down on the table and striding purposefully to the living room. 
You grabbed the shoulder of the first tall guy that you saw and spun him around. 
You couldn't remember his name but you knew his face well--it was a face that both Soojin and a lot of girls weren't fond of due to his fuckboy status and that was all the memory you needed to throw your arms around him as you danced wildly to the music. 
You hadn't danced for long when suddenly, you felt a hand grab your arm, spinning you around to see the face of a seething Kai. 
"Are you fucking kidding me?" He yelled to be heard over the music. "I'm the one who makes you feel guilty but fucking Jason is completely okay?" 
"You're my brother's best friend!" You defend yourself loudly. "My brother doesn't even like Jason. And who I sleep with is none of your business, Jongin, fuck off." 
You turn at that to a tipsy Jason and you quickly mutter into his ear the magical words that no guy at a party can resist, 'Hey, do you wanna get out of here?' 
Quickly heading for the door, you take Jason's hand and lead him outside your house, dragging him through the people that were dancing out front. When you were sure Kai couldn't see you anymore, you told Jason that you'd be right back and headed down the block to the grocery store.
Sitting at the small foldable table outside the store all alone at 4:17AM in the morning, you considered calling Soojin to ask her to pick you up before realising that you'd left your phone at your house. You lay on the table, wake up and loiter around the store for a while until you hear a whole row of cars drive past the store. 
You glance at the clock above the cashier's head: 
5:28 
You take off your heels and leave the grocery, walking your way back to your house. 
The front porch is empty and so is the living room when you enter. You close the front door as quietly as possible, hearing the click echo through the hall as the whole house is filled with silence, as opposed to an hour ago. 
Sighing, you drop your heels on the floor and carefully make your way through the bottles and cups, too tired to clean up now. Making a silent vow in your head to help your brother tomorrow morning, you head for the dark kitchen and reach for the jar of water. 
The moonlight filters through the curtains enough to illuminate the island counter and you pour yourself a cup, raising it to your mouth and cocking your head back as you gulp it down. 
The water is down your throat when you feel a sudden warmth at your back. You glance down and see two familiar veiny hands at your sides, holding on the counter. 
Jumping in surprise, the plastic cup falls from your hand as you whip around to come face-to-face with Jongin. 
His eyes are darker than the night as they bore into you, the moonlight hitting only one side of his face while the other half is hidden in shadows. His hands have caged you between his body and the counter at your back but without touching you. 
You blink up at him, heart racing erratically--both from being startled and from the proximity after a week of not seeing him.
You hated to admit it but your senses were already drowning in his familiar scent that you'd missed, your thighs clenching around nothing.
"Where did you go?" His voice was piercing and sharp, cutting through the silence. 
You swallowed, the sound echoing. "I went with Jason." 
"You're lying," he cut you off even before you could finish saying it. "You left him on the front porch. Where did you go?"
You stay silent, hearing your own bated breath. 
Kai's eyes narrowed. "Y/N."
"G-grocery store," you weakly muttered, giving in. 
"Why?" 
You don't respond, suddenly hyper-aware of everything around you. Your heart was pounding in your ears, you could hear your heavy breaths and you could hear every breath that Kai took, feel all the heat that his body was radiating even without touching you and the way both your bodies were the loudest echoes in this dark kitchen on this moonlit night.
Taking a breath, you finally admit, "I needed to get away from you." 
At this, Kai's entire demeanour changes as he straightens suddenly, eyebrow cocking up. "Oh really? How's that working for you so far?" 
You don't say a word and then he's slamming you into the counter, the marble surface biting into your back as he grips your forearms tightly.
"You really think that you can cut me off so easily after making me fucking addicted to you, Y/N?" He gritted out. "You started this. The same hesitation you had last week, I had it that night at the bathroom. And the same confidence that you had on your bed, I'm showing you now." 
You're breathing really hard now, certain he can hear how loud your heart is as you gasp, "Kai--"
He cuts you off with a heated kiss, one that was unlike the million that you'd had so far--filled with aggravation, teeth clashing and tongues battling for dominance. You lost readily, letting him explore your mouth with his talented tongue, swallowing your moans as you melted in his arms. 
Kai pulls away when he's certain you're breathless, forehead pressed against yours. 
"If you want me to stop," he breathes out heavily. "Tell me now and I'll leave you alone. I swear I will. No more fucking around. But if you don't, I'm going to show you exactly what it means to sin." 
You're already gripping the front of his shirt, fingers roaming his warm chest hungrily. His hands came up and grabbed yours, holding them in front of you, making you glance up at him.
You blink hazily, already feeling every bit of fight and resilience that you had in you leave, wanting to be drunk in his arms, wanting to be drunk in Kai. 
"Don't stop," you mutter, feeling your legs tremble as you threw your head back. "God, please don't stop." 
Kai's lips were immediately attacking your throat, one hand holding both of yours in between you two while his other hand went to your back. You felt the knot on your back that Soojin had tied into a bow so carefully and neatly come undone and Kai's fingers moved quickly as they pulled the satin ribbon free from the loops on the back, the dress loosening around you. 
He yanked the ribbon completely free from behind you and you watched as he placed it between his lips to allow his hands to tug your dress down. You heard him moan at the sight of your bare breasts and you started to reach for his shirt but he stopped you right as the dress pooled around your ankles. His foot steps on the hem and you lift each of your own feet, allowing him to pull it from around your ankles and kick it aside.
Taking the satin ribbon from his mouth, Kai wrapped it over and over around your joined wrists, binding them together and tying it tightly.
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Your breaths were coming out in short gasps as you watched him, core already pulsating with desire and when he finished tying your hands, his lust-crazed eyes met yours. 
"I've been wanting to do this ever since I saw you tonight," he mutters, hands going to his pants as he pulled his zipper down. "I'm going to show you exactly how much of a dirty sinner you are, Y/N." 
You don't get the chance to respond as he spins you around by your shoulders, hand pressing into your back until you're arched over the counter, bound hands atop it and breasts pressing against the cold marble.
"A dirty sinner just for me," he whispers right in your ear before licking it. 
"Fuck, Kai," you whine at the sensations spreading through your body as you feel his knees pressing into the back of your leg, urging you to spread your thighs. 
You do so readily, and he raises his left hand to your mouth, two fingers slipping inside your lips, making you immediately suck on the long digits. 
"I'm going to fuck you so hard and so good on this kitchen counter," Kai promises, thrusting his fingers into your mouth. "And you're going to stay quiet for me, baby." 
You moan around his fingers, arching your back into him.
He continues, "Your brother is upstairs, isn't he? We don't want him to find out about how his innocent sister is really a dirty sinner, do we?"
You close your eyes, feeling his other hand wander lower. 
"Look how wet you are for me," he mutters, kissing the back of your neck, his chest reverberating against your back. You choke on his fingers slightly as you feel his other fingers slip inside your wet folds, walls immediately clenching around him. 
"Fuck, I've missed how wet you get for me," Kai groans as he flicks your clit incessantly, making you buck and squirm against the counter in a matter of minutes. 
He removes his fingers from your mouth, trailing it downwards and replaces his right hand with his left, dripping with your saliva. You trash around at the sensation and Kai holds you tightly against the counter to steady you, his fingers thrusting into you deeply and easily because of your fluids. 
You press your bound wrists to your mouth to muffle your moaning as you feel him bring you closer and closer to your high. Writhing on the table, your thighs began clenching around him and right then, he pulled his fingers out of your dripping pussy. 
Collapsing on the table and focusing on being quiet, Kai doesn't give you much time to breathe from your almost-orgasm as you feel him coat the head of his erection with your arousal, wetting it completely before slipping it inside you.
You moaned, slapping your hand over your mouth as Kai began thrusting at an animalistic pace. It was rougher and faster than he'd ever been on you before, his fingers digging into your hips and certain to leave bruises tomorrow morning while the angle of his hips helped him reach inside you in all the sweet spots that had you seeing stars. 
The air was hot and heavy around the two of you, filled with the sounds of skin slapping, your muffled moans, Kai's breathless pants and the water bottle trembling at the corner of the counter as he slammed you against it repeatedly. 
Your breasts roughly brushed against the surface as Kai pounded into you. He suddenly grabbed your thigh and raised your leg. 
The new position had you screaming into your hand as you felt his dick reach upwards, rubbing your clit just as he thrusted in and out of you.
Kai pressed his chest to your back, pinning you down to the counter table and right as his hand groped your breast, your orgasm crashed over you. 
You shook over the table, legs trembling as you came around Kai's dick, his own orgasm following a few more rough thrusts later. You're dripping with cum and you can feel it trickling down your thigh as you lay exhausted on the counter, Kai's body collapsed over your own back. 
"Still feeling guilty, baby?" You heard him pant and you couldn't help the smile that came over your face at the question. 
"No," you admit honestly. "A little sore, a lot satisfied, and there's definitely no guilt or regret." 
You felt Kai press a gentle kiss to the nape of your neck and the two of you lapse into silence, you focusing on the sounds of both of you trying to catch your breaths. Kai straightened suddenly, pulling out of you and you felt his hands on your shoulder, gently spinning you around. 
His eyes scanned your face, fingers lightly tracing your chin. "You're okay?" 
The soft question filled with concern had your heart swelling and you couldn't help it as you pressed up against him with your arms still bound, kissing him deeply. His arms grabbed the back your thighs, pulling you up on the counter and sitting you down on it as he kissed your neck. You arched back and fell on the counter. 
Right then, a bright light flashed across your eyes. 
You snapped your eyes shut tightly and were vaguely aware of red spots dancing behind your eyelids. 
When you opened your eyes and squinted at the harsh light, you realised that Kai had stopped moving. 
A chilly air suddenly blew past and you felt your blood run cold. 
Slowly turning your head to the right, you see your brother standing at the doorway to the kitchen, eyes wide and hand frozen on the light-switch. 
"What the fuck?" 
357 notes · View notes
sunnieskies02 · 5 years ago
Text
You Need It More Than I Do (College AU)
Shouto Aizawa x Reader
3.3k Words
Trigger Warnings: n/a; A/N: This is for you Pinky @pinky-the-elephant-room
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
Working at the Elephant Cafe was more shitty than it can get.
You opened and closed the shop every single day, the customers were shitty especially the teenagers/ highschool students. You hated them with a passion, every time they walked in you wanted to bang your head on the wood counter so you wouldn’t have to deal with their antics.
Some of them would make a scene and destroy some of the tables and chairs forcing you to kick them out. Other items you would see these big groups of girls walk in, order something that sounded pretty off of the menu, take thousands of pictures of it and then walk out. And every time they did that you silently thought to yourself ‘What the fuck! Those pieces of shit waste so much food, and they come in EveRyDaY!’
You sigh in utter disappointment but you kept on working throughout the day.
The Elephant Cafe was in a very affluent district, fancy cars would silently roll down the street with designer stores covering each side. You realized that the people who came in had almost all the money in the world, and could give two shits about wasting the food or their money. You hated that, you despised how the kids that would walk in would have the rest of their lives planned while you worked all the hours of the day.
A day in your life went a little something like this: At 3am, you would wake up and do your morning routine and be out the door by 3:30am. At 4 o'clock in the morning you would do package deliveries until 8am where you would then change to go to the cafe and work there from 8:30 to 1 in the afternoon. By the graces of Satan you are blessed with a 30min lunch where for the majority of that time you are a part time hotline operator. Then at 5pm, you close the cafe and head to the local convenience store and work from 5:30 to 10pm and you’d still have to do your online college course.
Four jobs in total, not all of them paid well, and the only job that did pay well was working at Elephant cafe. Your home situation wasn’t the greatest, years before you had become a college student your father had died leaving you and your mother to fend for each other. Your mother was a sweet little old lady who took care of the neighborhood children and was a strong prominent woman. Knowing that your mother was growing older in age, you, in secret, gave up on going to college to make more money to take care of her and was going to stay with her mother to take care of her.
But mother knew best.
She told you “Don’t worry about me sweetheart. You need to live your life, I’m not that much an old hag. I can carry my own, be free, and live life. AND don’t forget to bring me back some grandchildren.” As much as you told her that you wanted to stay and take care of her, your bag was packed and you were shipped off to a new part of the country.
Dad didn’t leave a lot of money when he died. So when you were in the big city and on your own getting a job was your very first priority. As you job hunted, you found plenty of job openings and applied to them as soon as possible. Luckily you didn’t have to worry about housing because your friend Mirio had a spare room in his apartment and was allowed to stay as long as you cleaned up and kept yourself healthy. | this sounds a bit awkward and it would be best if you reworded it.
You felt bad for Mirio, but envied him at the same time He got a full ride to E Univeristy while you were working every hour of every day to amass enough money to survive and still try to graduate on time. Life sucked but there was no other way ( respectful way) at that to make more money than you were already making and saving.
Money had you in a mental bind, you felt bad that you were leeching off of Mirio who was working hard, but now even harder because he had an additional mouth to feed.
“Hey y/n? You seem out of it, what's wrong?’ Mirio’s cheerful voice rocked you out of your depressing thoughts and you turned your head towards him. You sigh, « I just… want to make more money y’know. I already work four jobs and I just wanna make money without having to work. » A laugh erupts from Mirio’s chest and he says « Well, the world doesn’t work that way. That’s why I’m letting you stay here for as long as you need. Don’t fret. »
You wanted to combat his words but his bright smile doesn’t allow you too. You close your computer and make way for your room, you throw yourself into your bed and look at the clock. 12:00’ the clock read « Fuck me. » You turn over and force yourself to get a wink of sleep and prepare for another slave away day.
oOo
Elephant Cafe was bustling as normal, preppy pieces of shit would walk in and cause a ruckus. The same group of girls would walk in order food, snap it, post it, then dip. You rest your head on your hand at the counter, and all of a sudden a man walked it. You lifted your head and saw a man who was wrapped in a dull scarf, with eye bags heavier than your under your eyes.
“I’d like a dark coffee with 4 shots of espresso please.” His voice was deep and velvety, it shook you to your core. “Yessir and may I get the name for your order?”
“Aizawa Shouta please.”
“Your total will be—“ A crash interrupted your sentence. Two high school kids were fighting in the dining area over who knows what. “G-give me a minute I’m sorry.” You reluctantly walk over to them and try to handle the situation.
“Who the FUCK do you think you are putting your hands on me!!”
“I barely touched you, I am just asking you to leave the premises. You are disrupting the others.”
“I DON'T CARE!!! My dad could buy you and all of those shitty workers back there!!”
‘I’m pretty sure he could.’ “Please ma’am, whatever you and your friend is arguing about could probably be solved by or infinite pockets and—“
“The fuck is that supposed to mean. Are you saying because I have money and privileges I can’t have any problem!?”
You didn’t answer. Then a splash of water is thrown on your face, and the laughter of the woman erupts in your ear. You wanted to keep your job, but something in you snapped.
“ Your right. I do think that you're privileged and rich and yes you might have problems but I bet you wouldn’t LAST a day in my life.” The girl was silent and shocked “I WORK FROM 4am to 5pm every single day. Four jobs from 4am to 5pm AND I go to college online. I don’t make enough to live on campus, or enough to live on my own. I’m sick and tired of rich pieces of shit not respecting those that work for and around you. You come in here everyday, and disrespect all of us and threaten to have us fired! YOU’RE DADDY’S GIRL AND I HOPE HE CUTS YOU OFF SO YOU'LL HAVE TO FIGURE OUT HOW THE WORLD REALLY WORKS. I GET SO TIRED OF PEOPLE WHO HAVE THE WORLD AT THEIR FEET AND NEVER WORKED A DAY IN THEIR GODDAMNED LIFE!”
The girl looked at you slack jawed. She didn’t know what to say, she looked at you in awe. “Go a head and call your daddy, cuz’ that’s all the fuck you know how to do.”
You walked back behind the counter and continued with the customer who didn’t look dazed at all. Drenched in water, out of breathe, adrenaline pumping “Your total is 5.95. Will that be cash or card?”
“Cash,” he said. He fumbled in his pocket and handed you an American Black Card. You swipe it and he tells you “Debit is fine.” You look at him with a warm smile and back down at the illuminating screen.
“I like what you did back there. She looked really surprised that there are people who actually work.” You scoff, “ Hell yeah, and I work too hard for her to always call on her dad when things don’t go her way. My dad died so does it look like I can call on him, hell no. I work four jobs and I’m still poor.” Realizing that you damn near poured your life to this man you didn’t know you look up and see a small smile.
His order is completed and you hand him his drink. “While you were working so hard her dad showed up.” You roll your eyes and groan, then an envelope and business card is handed your way. “ If you are fired just give me a call. I’ll help you, a hard worker nowadays is hard to come across. And daddy’s little girl is a prime example.” Once he walked up the girl's dad spoke with you, and you were happy that he sided with you in the matter. Which resulted in the girls father cutting her off to make her work to be just as wealthy as he was since he was self made. The look on her face was priceless and she tried to argue with him but the dad didn’t care at all. Daddy’s little girl would have to become a woman.
As Shouta walks out and you look at the envelope, it looked….pretty thick. A cold sweat ran down your face, what was he trying to do? Was it a sleep agent filled envelope! Was it DRUGS?! Not saying that you wouldn’t use them but….what kind of drugs. You take an envelope and place it in your locker in the back and for the rest of the evening, it sits on your brain.
When your shift was over you grabbed the envelope and rubbed it with your callused hands. ‘What the fuck is in here.’ And at the same time you fumbled his business card in your hands. The card read ‘ Kitty Kafe CEO. Owner Of Kitty Kafe Around the Globe. Mobile #: ***-***-***’ Your heart nearly dropped
Into your ass, ‘WTF!’ You’ve never run home so quickly.
“MIRIO!!!! I-I met thé CEO of Kitty Kafe and he gave me his business card and envelope.” He quirked an eyebrow “Wow! That’s a once in a lifetime chance how’d you look?”
“H-how’d I look? I was in my—“ It dawned on you, when you met him you were in your cafe uniform but later drenched in water. “ I was in uniform but later drenched wet.” Mirio shot you a concerned look “No like that you ass. A customer there threw water on me so… yeah.”
You and Mirio spoke about the events of the day and how you made a girl get financially cut off by her dad. That night you slept soundly but that envelope stayed in your mind.
The next day at the cafe you had the envelope at your side waiting for him to come back and to your luck he did. He had the same look on his face and he said “Well it’s nice to see that you aren’t drenched in water this time.” You chuckle, “Same thing as last time, CEO Shouta?”
“So you looked at the business card, it’s good to know that you're literate. But yes,” He hands you his card and rings up your order, “ I’d like for you to sit with me while I drink you coffee. I don’t want to force you.”
You look up at him and furrow your brows “W-why?”
“Don’t act like a kid, I was intrigued by your actions and what you told me. All I wanted to do was know more.” You relaxed ‘Okay, well at least he isn’t a creep.’ Once his drink was made you hold it and walk with him to the seat. While you and him sat together you learned more about Aizawa, he did come from an affluent family but he wished to make it on his own. He was a self made billionaire and his business was flourishing more than he thought. You had also found out that he hated kids, but he was a teacher for a fraction of his life so that was humorous.
Both of you spoke for hours until the end of your shift. Some days, he would sit and watch you work behind the counter. How the sweat would get stuck in your face, and how you would make everyone’s order perfect. Other days he would purchase something for you to eat and laugh at how some crumbs from the cake would stick to your face.
“Hey, you have something on your face.”
“I-i do. Where?” Aizawa leans across the white table and wipes the crumbs off of your cheek. His calloused finger rubbed over your lip slightly and returned back to your cheek. Your face became dusted with pink as he continued to stare at you. His eyes were a deep maroon color, and the seemed as if they peered into your eyes.
“You have very pretty eyes.” Shouta takes his hand back and places it back onto the table and stares. His eyes had a calming effect, his eyes were somehow piercing but soothing at the same time. On another occasion you had made him laugh, you and him have a mutual hate for children, so when you were sitting and chatting with him and said “These kids are the result of too much money shoved up their asses. They need to get smacked the fuckk up.”
Hearing him laugh was foreign to you. It was deep and hearty, like a dad’s laugh in a sense. Aizawa laughed and laughed and when he finally stopped his face went back to its restless state. You look at him in shock and he says “It wasn’t that funny.” You playfully sock his arm and chuckle, pink dust crosses his face and he smiles. These conversations were to die for.
You enjoyed the time you spent with him and hated it when he had to leave. He waved you a goodbye and walked out. You returned to the table and noticed that another envelope was left and you saw that it had your name on it. ‘Was this for me?’ You picked it up and it dawned on you that you forgot to give him the other envelope. You just had to wait till tomorrow, and tomorrow came.
The same thing happened over and over again, Aizawa would order his dark coffee with 5 shots of expression and ask you to sit with him. When you sat with him, you felt the world was on your side, his still face and weird smiles that looked more scary than sweet made you laugh. And at the end of your shift envelopes would be left on the table. It was like he left them on purpose that late because he would have wanted to see you the next day.
Over 3 months of meeting him and texting him( because you had finally exchanged numbers) you had over 93 envelopes with your name on it sitting in your room. It got on your nerves, why had he left them, what was he planning for you?
The next day when you showed up to open. », Aizawa was there,
“What are you doing here Aizawa and I need to talk to you anyway.” he quirked an eyebrow and said “I’m not going to be able to attend our daily meetings. I'm gonna go out of town. So I wanted to see you.” ‘Hé wanted to see me??’ That was weird but once you unlocked the store you motioned him inside.
“What did you wanna y’all about? ” You closed the door behind him and dumped your bag on the table « These envelopes. What’s in them? » He looked at you and said « Money. »
“Money?” Aizawa walked over to an envelope that was pretty thick and spoke, “I looked into who you are y/n. And you’ve had it pretty hard.”
He was right, hell yeah your life was hard. « You moved from a village to a big rich city for school all in your mother’s words after your father died. You came here to get a good education to get a high paying job to send your mom money, so you work hard. Everyday and I saw the pain in your eyes. You push through it but pushing threw isn’t going to be good enough »
You looked at him in shock and he continued to talk. So, when I saw you handed that girl her ass, I started to like you. And that’s why I wanted to talk to you everyday, you were interesting.”You sit at the table and he says, ' In every last one of these envelopes was enough money to give you your own place and money to send to your Mom.” Tears started to form at the corners of your eyes « Working yourself to death is no way to live if you want to die early. So I wanted to help you and I thought you would have caught on. »
You were shaken, you had only met this man 4 month ago and he was treating you in such a way that no one has treated you before. “Why, why are you doing this? I-I don’t understand, I--”
“You work hard. You are a very determined person and everyday you deal with people shit, who never give a damn about anyone else. And,” he walks over to you and grabs your hand. “Everyday I’ve had the pleasure of speaking with someone as strong and eloquent as you.” Your heart breaks a little, “Is this what happens when you are nice to people? I guess I should be nice to rich people more often.’
You hurriedly wipe the tears off of your face and repeatedly say thank you again and again and again. But a thought dawned on you, “Hey Shouta… how old are you?” He looks down through squinted eyes, “38 years old. Why?”
“I-I’m…(y/a). So that makes you…” you show him a big beaming smile. “Myyyy SUGAR DADDY!!!” You giggle hysterically and he rolls his eyes. “I hate to ask this but what the hell is a sugar daddy?” he asked calmly
“Well~ a sugar daddy is an old man who gives a young boy or girl a shitton of money. And you're kinda doing the same.” You latch onto his arm and hear him emit a disgruntled tch come from his mouth.
“Well at least you are being given money for a good reason. You work harder than what you are paid so I’m paying you….and for also being another realist in this world.” You sigh and look up at him, and he looks back at you and continues “ This world runs on greed and people who are hard workers never have enough money to grant themselves a better life. And those who do have the money to live a lavish life they waste it. I saw you and believed that as hard as you work you need it more than i do. So I’m fine giving you money because you earn it based off of your hard work and determination.
You were happy. You were given the golden ticket and you can finally start being more productive and given a man that doted on you for how hard you work and appreciated it. Aizawa was different, and that’s what made meeting him all the better.
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hxseok-honee · 6 years ago
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i found | part 3
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a/n: here’s part 3! cant have everyone thinking yoongi’s just a grade A asshole for too long, amirite? also huge major serious fucking creds to @deepseavibez for being one of my most cherished friends and for reading and proof-reading and helping me put my fuckin plot together for this au and just generally dealing w my annoying ass when i have ideas and rant for too long to her even though shes got her own life and probs doesnt wanna be dealing w me screaming in her DMs at like 3am <333 
i hope you guys like it! let me know what you think???
previous | next
Yoongi tosses his phone on the bed beside him, sighing heavily after sending his last text. He figures it’ll be enough to keep Y/n from texting him again, so he settles deeper into his comforter, reaching out lazily to pull the curtains shut around his bed. He knows his roommates will be back soon, and it’s just easier to pretend he’s sleeping than to actually interact with them. Leaning back until his head hits the pillow, he throws an arm over his face, letting it block the light from his eyes as he sighs again, a habit after all these years.
His other hand skims the bed until his fingers brush over the cold surface of his phone, and he lifts the device to his face to set his alarm. It might be the middle of the day, but the last time he didn’t set his alarm while relaxing in bed, he had woken up several hours later very dazed and frankly kind of pissed.
The backlight of his phone glows brightly in his face, and it’s through squinted eyes that he realizes he really hasn’t received any sort of reply from Y/n. After setting his alarm, Yoongi reads through their conversation, noticing just how much she likes to talk and ask questions. He wonders when she became this way or maybe if she’d always been like that. She used to be almost terrified of talking to him; it seems like even now she’s only really this enthusiastic over text, keeping her distance in the few instances he’d seen her this weekend.
Turning onto his side, he curls up a bit and tucks his phone under his pillow. Still wondering how his impression of Y/n could have been so inaccurate, Yoongi drifts off to sleep without even realizing it.
-
The back left corner of the library has always been his favorite. No one ever comes to the back left corner. The back right corner is always surprisingly full, but it’s far away enough that he doesn’t notice those people whispering. The back left corner is always empty. Almost everyone knows that it belongs to him- maybe that’s why no one ever risks coming back here. That’s fine by him, he needs his space to think anyway. Everything’s easiest when there are no distractions, when he can just get his work done without having to pretend to be someone else.
He’s been there for almost two hours now, finally about to finish up his potions homework, when the chair in front of him moves back. Looking up sharply, his eyes meet those of a girl he barely recognizes, a face he’s only seen in the corridor between classes. The only thing that stands out is the bright yellow scarf around her neck, very noticeable against her otherwise plain outfit. She’s no one particularly outstanding, just another student in his year. They’ve never interacted before, there was never any reason to- so why is she doing this?
She sits down in front of him, placing her bag next to her on the table. She pulls out a textbook and her parchment, not even bothering to acknowledge him as she sets up. It’s only when she’s pulled out her water bottle and taken a sip that she looks at him. He’s been watching her the whole time, one eyebrow raised as he observes this unexpectedly brazen girl invade his space. They make and keep eye contact, taking each other in silently for a long moment. Eventually she smiles softly, leaning in to speak to him. Yoongi fixes his stare on her, transforming his cautious gaze into a cold one and hoping it’s enough to cue her in to the fact that he doesn’t want to speak to her. She doesn’t take the hint.
“You’re Yoongi, right? I’m Y/n!” Yoongi stares down at her a moment longer, trying to decide how he should respond. Before he can say anything, however, she’s averting her gaze and leaning away from him, clearing her throat as she opens her textbook. Yoongi smirks to himself, satisfied in knowing he’s made her uncomfortable. He returns to his own work, trusting that her discomfort will keep her at bay at least until he’s finished.
They work silently for about another hour, minding their own work as if the other wasn’t even there. Yoongi keeps his eyes on his papers, making his way quickly through his potions work. His transfiguration essay, however, takes much longer and, after half an hour of flipping through pages and stopping himself from sighing loudly, he closes his books and stands, starting to pack up. He notices Y/n now has her headphones in and seems to be in a similar state of distress. Glimpsing quickly at her textbook, he realizes she’s struggling with her potions homework, the same one he just completed as a matter of fact.
Yoongi runs his fingers over the parchment containing his answers, so easily formulated and scribbled onto the sheet, as he watches her struggle to get even the first question figured out. He stares down at her, long enough that she must have noticed his stalled presence because before he knows it, she’s glancing up at him through her eyelashes. He blinks at her once, then twice, then without a single word he grabs his bag and leaves. He thinks maybe this is the first and only time they’ll interact, so what’s the point in even saying anything to her? Soon enough his thoughts of her are gone, and he carries on with the rest of his day as normal.
-
Yoongi is moving down the corridor, a force of pure anger and destruction. The hand that grips the strap of his bag is bruised, and there is cut in the corner of his mouth that looks more painful than it is. The rest of the students in the corridor, almost sensing the mood he’s in before they even see him, are moving out of his way as quickly as they can. Everyone knows, either first-hand or based on reputation alone, what the wrath of the Slytherin Prince can do. Although it’s mainly the Gryffindors that like to challenge him to impromptu fist fights, ditching their wands entirely because they all know of how he excels magically, there are a surprising amount of Slytherins that like to create problems with him. Yet another one of those cases, Yoongi of course made it clear that he would never back down or lose, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t in a really foul mood afterwards. Everyone knows this. Everyone stays away. Everyone except her.
He hears her before he even sees her. Well, he hears a group of people, all making excessively loud noises and running down the corridor ahead of him. Their laughter bounces off the castle walls, a herd of friends all running together. They come around the corner, almost running him over as he’s walking. They’re a mismatched group, all in different houses and maybe even different years. He’s seen this group before, always together and always so lively. It’s only now, however, that he’s realizing the contexts in which he’s previously seen his mysterious study partner from the day before.
Y/n comes around the corner last and much later than the others, startling him the most. He’d managed to avoid getting hit by the group of boys as they came around the corner, and he had thought he was in the clear. He isn’t expecting to see her running after them, pointing her wand at them and shooting hexes at their shoes. Apparently she isn’t expecting him either, too caught up in chasing her friends to realize other people could be in her path. She slams right into him, almost knocking him over, and in the moment he’s glad he happened to turn down an empty corridor, away from the crowded one he just walked through. His chest takes the brunt of the hit, knocking the wind out of him slightly, but luckily none of her flying hexes have hit him so he isn’t too annoyed. He’s more shocked than anything, but so is she.
“Y-Yoongi… Hi…” He stares down at her, recognition flashing over his features before he’s pursing his lips and averting his gaze with a roll of his eyes. “Oh! What’s that on your lip- are you okay?” His eyes flick back to her, taking her in as she examines his wound. He’s almost settled on watching her until she becomes uncomfortable again, but she’s reaching for his lip with one finger. On nothing but pure instinct and some leftover desire to fight, Yoongi steps back as she reaches for him, bringing his arm up and smacking her hand away almost a little too aggressively. She draws her arm back immediately, curling the offending limb into her chest as she stares up at him with wide eyes. He almost feels kind of bad, but before he has a chance to think too deeply about it, she’s apologizing.
“Ah, sorry about that. It was just kind of my instinct to try to help. I won’t pry anymore, I’m sorry. You should get it cleaned it up or something, though. Uh- bye!” And then she’s gone, leaving him there, completely rooted to the spot as he stares at the space where she once was. Shaking his head slowly, he shifts his bag higher on his shoulder and keeps making his way down the corridor, wondering if meeting her twice in two days so suddenly like this was more than a coincidence.
-
Yoongi sighs softly as he walks down the corridor, a small cloud of condensation appearing when he does so. It’s late, and the castle has never been well insulated, so the air around him is particularly chilly. He looks around at the paintings as he walks, all of them fast asleep. This whole castle seems to be fast asleep. Yet he never seems to be able to reach that point. Wandering the castle at night without detection is something he’s gotten quite good at, and it’s helped him find some really quiet corners for when he just needs to get away.
He’s on the 7th floor now, much farther from the dungeons than he expected to be, but it’s not like he has anything better to do anyway. He rounds the corner but almost immediately steps back into the darkness when he sees the telltale light of a prefect’s wand a little ways away.
“Shit…” He mumbles quietly to himself as he turns to head back where he came from, but he’s stopped short at the presence of another human. Y/n is making her way toward him slowly, taking in the paintings on the wall and taking her time wandering, just the same as him. She hasn’t seen Yoongi yet, which gives him time to locate the small opening in the wall that he found a few weeks prior, a tiny little entryway that leads to nowhere- a place to hide.
He slips into the space, pressing his back as far into the wall as he can, and decides to wait it out. He’s only there for a few moments before he realizes the entire situation- Y/n will be caught the moment that prefect turns the corner. Holding back the sigh that’s threatening to escape, Yoongi thinks about his options. Does he let her get caught? It would be the easiest choice, it’s not his business whether she gets caught or not. He should really only care about himself. But what if it’s one of the Slytherin prefects? He knows the two boys in his year that were chosen to rule the castle at night- they’re not likely to just let her off with a point deduction. Should it matter? They can’t do anything too harsh to her, they have a specific set of instructions to follow. But it would still be unpleasant, especially if he has to stand there witnessing the entire thing.
Out of the corner of his eye, Yoongi sees her. She’s still wandering slowly, not even realizing what she’s about to get herself into as she enjoys her midnight stroll. But Yoongi knows it’s only a matter of seconds until the prefect rounds the corner, so without a second thought he reaches out into the darkness and takes hold of her wrist, his other hand clamping down over her mouth to muffle any noise she makes. He pulls her into the small space, keeping his hand over her mouth as he drags her closer to him.
Y/n looks up at him with wide eyes, surprise evident all over her features. He releases her completely, silently cursing the fact that they are currently a lot closer together than he would have liked. He didn’t think this through properly. He brings one finger up to his mouth to tell her not to speak, and luckily she listens because in that moment a bright light starts to shine down the corridor. Yoongi grabs her elbow and drags her further back into the space, effectively trapping her between his body and the wall. He waits until the light is gone, the prefect moving away from them and down the corridor, before he separates himself from her.
Moving to the entrance, he peeks his head out and watches the prefect round another corner before turning on her.
“What are you doing here?” Y/n makes a noise of surprise, pointing at herself as if to check that he’s actually speaking to her. He raises an eyebrow. “What?”
“That’s the first time you’ve ever spoken to me…” Yoongi blinks and averts his gaze, realizing that it really is the first time he’s opened his mouth around her. He looks back at her sharply.
“You could have gotten caught. And then I would have had to listen while you got scolded. Don’t wander around so carelessly, it’s annoying.” Y/n nods silently at him, still staring up at him with wide eyes. He sighs and rolls his eyes, stepping back out into the corridor. “Go to bed, Y/n. It’s late.” He turns and starts to leave, but a hand gripping the back of his shirt stops him. He looks down at her with a frown.
“Thank you… for helping me.” Yoongi tries not to look surprised, certain that no one at this school has ever thanked him for anything. But he doesn’t say a single word- he just pulls his shirt from her grasp and walks away.
-
When Yoongi arrives at the back left corner of the library, he’s shocked to find it’s not empty. Y/n has her back to him, her headphones in as she taps one foot to an unheard beat. Even down the aisle he can see she’s working on potions again, the textbook open next to her on the table. He considers leaving her here, finding another place to work for just today, when she sighs loudly. Her frustrations with the homework are obvious, a hand coming up press itself against the side of her head as she puts her quill down and starts flipping pages in the book angrily. With a roll of his eyes, Yoongi approaches her slowly and hovers over her, staring down at the answers she’s managed to write into the packet. She notices him almost immediately, her wide eyes trailing up to rest on him as he ignores her and focuses on her work. She pulls an earbud out to acknowledge him.
“When did you get here?” Without meeting her eyes, Yoongi leans forward and plants his pointer finger on one of her answers.
“This should be lionfish spines.” She glances down at the spot he’s pointing to, her curling handwriting showing ‘leech juice’. She turns her gaze on him again, her eyes combing over his features which are now much closer than before.
“Huh?” His eyes flick over to her quickly before turning down to her textbook. He reaches for it, flipping several pages before he stops and taps lightly on the image of lionfish spines staring back at him.
“Lionfish spines. You’re looking for the final ingredient to add to the Wiggenweld Potion, which-” He leans toward her again, tapping down on a different answer she had written. “-is actually a potion that reverses the effects of the Draught of Living Death. It’s a healing potion, not a transformative one. Make sure you change that.” When he’s done he stands again, adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder as he moves to the other side of the table and takes his place across from her. He does everything silently, as if deciding he’s reached his word limit for the day and is now going to ignore her. When he’s done setting his transfiguration textbook on the table he glances up at her, blinking when he realizes she’s staring at him.
“What?”
“So you just have all that information in your brain like that?” He furrows a brow at her, choosing to turn his attention back to his books with a shake of his head as he answers her.
“It’s called studying. You should try it some time instead of guessing all your answers.”
“Will you tutor me?” His head shoots up again as he stares at her incredulously, shocked
that she isn’t even affronted by his very obvious insult. She’s leaning toward him, an excited gleam in her eye. Yoongi frowns at her.
“No.” She frowns back, a pout taking over her whole face.
“Please? I’ll pay you…” He scoffs at her, trying to end the conversation as he dips his quill into his inkpot and starts to take notes from his textbook.
“I don’t want your money.”
“So you’ll tutor me for free?”
“Definitely not.”
“So what can I do?”
“Find someone else.”
“But you’re so smart!”
“I’m aware, thank you.”
“Please, Yoongi? Please?” He slams his hand down on the table, giving Y/n a look that shocks her into silence. It’s a look he reserves for when he’s about to start a fight, and he knows she recognizes it when she averts her gaze and draws her hands into her lap as she stares down at her homework. He stares at her for a moment longer, regretting his choice to even approach her today, when he realizes how much he’s actually scared her.
She’s reaching for her quill, wrapping two shaky fingers around it and dragging it over to her page, where she scratches her answers out quietly and carefully. Watching her, he understands the effect his reputation is having on her as he guesses that she’s probably also regretting coming here today. Rolling his eyes and turning his head to stare out the window, he contemplates the feeling that’s settling in his stomach as he stares down at the Black Lake. He’s probably just terrified the only person that wasn’t already scared of him, the only person who’s treated him like any other student up to this point. As much as he’s learned not to care about anyone else in his time here, there’s something about the way she reacted to him that leaves a bad taste in his mouth.
He shuts his eyes and sighs again, turning back to his work after a short moment. When he glances at her, however, he realizes she’s started packing her things up slowly and quietly, making an effort not to disturb him. She stands and, without looking at him, reaches for her bag, which sits on the table between them. Before he can rethink his decision, his hand comes down on it, causing her to jump slightly at his sudden movement. She meets his eyes now, her own wide and cautious. He brings the same hand up and flips it, his palm reaching out to her.
“Give me your phone.”
“H-huh?” His eyes narrow as he challenges her to keep him waiting. She doesn’t. Once he has the device in his hand, he types his number into it quickly and texts himself, only sliding her phone back to her when he feels a familiar vibration in the back pocket of his jeans. He doesn’t even look at her when he bids her farewell, turning back to his essay.
“Don’t forget to fix those answers I gave you.”
-
The blaring call of Yoongi’s alarm sounds through his dreams, bringing him back to the present. Muting the noise, he rolls over onto his back and stares up at the ceiling, sighing softly as he recalls the beginning of their in-person interactions last year. He had ended up tutoring her slightly, but he could tell she hadn’t utilized his phone number as much as she probably needed. She had called him a few times in the course of frantically studying for exams, and he had given her as much information as she had asked for, never less or more. Her grade still suffered a bit in the end, so he doesn’t know if she’ll be taking the second NEWT course this year, but he had done his part. And she hadn’t abused access to his phone number over the summer like he had half been expecting her to- but it seems this year she just might.
Reaching for his phone again, Yoongi opens their text thread again, skimming over his last message to her, over three hours old at this point.
I didn’t realize you were this annoying.
Yoongi sighs, surprisingly loudly this time, as he rips open the curtain around his bed and leans over to slip his shoes on. Glancing over at the clock sitting on his bedside table, he sees it’s just about time for dinner and decides to head out. Making his way through the common room without acknowledging a single person, he heads toward the stairs that will lead him up from the dungeons to the Great Hall. When he gets to the top of the stairs, however, he all but crashes into someone coming around the corner and heading in the same direction as him. Turning to look at the person, he only has time to register the yellow scarf before he hears her.
“Oh! Sorry about th- Oh.” Yoongi turns fully, meeting Y/n’s eyes as he looks down at her, their proximity making things a bit difficult. She steps back to distance herself from him, and he can’t help the frown that etches itself lightly into his features when she pointedly averts her gaze to a spot just over his shoulder, breaking eye contact with him.
“Y/n…” He doesn’t know what he wants to say, or why he feels the need to say anything at all, but he doesn’t even get the chance to start before she’s speaking.
“About earlier… Sorry I bothered you so much. I figured we might be at a point where I could just talk to you normally, but I see that’s not the case. I got the message, so don’t worry about it.” He blinks rapidly at her, trying to absorb the vibe she’s giving him. It isn’t anger, or hostility, but it certainly doesn’t feel like the warmth that usually radiates off of her, or even the mild hesitation she shows around him sometimes. He can’t pinpoint it, but he doesn’t think he likes it.
She must be taking his silence as an acknowledgment because she’s starting to move past him without another word and toward the Great Hall. He doesn’t think he likes this either. Turning as she passes him, he reaches out and wraps a cold hand around her wrist, stopping her in front of the Entrance Hall.
“I didn’t mean to upset you.” He sees the confusion passing over her face, and the embarrassment that floods over him prompts him to look away. He still has his hand around her wrist, but he doesn’t know what else he wants to say. He doesn’t know why he’s keeping her there.
Do I really feel that bad about this?
“Yo, Y/n! There you are- oh.” Yoongi glances over his shoulder and finds one of her friends coming down the stairs behind them, a fifth year Gryffindor. He realizes how bad the situation must look, the Slytherin Prince preying on a sweet Hufflepuff. Yoongi turns back to look at Y/n- to say that they should talk later or acknowledge that he was trying to apologize- but she’s giving him a polite smile and twisting her hand from his grasp. He releases her as if she were the dangerous one, not him. He feels her friend stop next to him, looking Yoongi over once as if sizing him up. Yoongi doesn’t even bother looking back at him.
“Everything alright here?” Yoongi scoffs and shakes his head, pushing past the kid in question and moving toward the Great Hall. He can hear Y/n talking to her friend as they trail after him.
“I’m okay, Jungkook- stop looking at him like that, he wasn’t doing anything- no, you don’t have to fight him, okay? Stop looking for reasons to get in trouble, the school year hasn’t even started yet. Come on, let’s just eat.” Yoongi sighs as he flops down in his seat, incredibly tempted to slam his head against the table as he relives the last few minutes of his life.
What the fuck did I just get myself into?
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cleofox-blog1 · 5 years ago
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☁☼☁ ( indya moore. trans female. 24 ). welcome back to your summer paradise, CLEO FOX we were wondering when you’d finally show up! the town’s really missed how WHIMSICAL you are, even if you can be a bit SPITEFUL at times. we hear back home they call you the BON VIVANT, makes sense considering you remind everyone of SIPPING PERFECTLY-AGED WHISKEY FROM A TEACUP, RIPPED STOCKINGS UNDER SILK DRESSES, POSING ON THE HOOD OF SOMEONE ELSE’S MASERATI, PUTTING ON SHAKESPEARE PLAYS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT. ☁☼☁
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hello hello! below is some info about my lil beeb cleo fox!
[ trigger warnings for drugs; ]
history:
The lovechild of a whiskey distillery heir and former Playboy playmate of the month, Cleo was born in Nashville, Tennesse and spent the majority of her formative years in the American South. After her birth, Cleo’s parents regularly got together, then broke up, and got together again, effectively creating a pretty dysfunctional early family for the first ten years of her life. While her father sought refuge in the arms of other women, Cleo’s mother found it in drugs — nothing too hard, really, but enough to regularly leave her in a daze. As a result, Cleo pursued the arts early on as a means of stability, finding that it was one of the only school subjects that ever really stuck. She excelled in writing short stories, putting on plays, and playing the piano, and became a darling in the eyes of her father’s Southern high society friends.
Around the age of fifteen, Cleo transitioned. (She’d always known this was her truth, and knew that she would transition regardless of her parents’ feelings.) Her mother was supportive, but far too faded to really object or vehemently support her. Cleo’s father, however, refused to support her publicly, which meant cutting off her ties to his high society friends and sending her off to live with his somewhat estranged mother in New York City.
Her grandmother, a retired Tony-winning actress, was entirely supportive of Cleo, and brought her along to all the awards show parties, fashion shows, to demonstrate her support. She even helped the young girl pick out her new name, and made sure this new chapter of Cleo’s life was as easy and happy as possible. Her grandmother also instilled in her a taste for the finer things in life, as well as the confidence to ask for exactly what she wanted — with a pretty smile on her face, of course.
After graduating from a prestigious high school in NYC, Cleo declined opportunities to go on to learn in the Ivy Leagues like all her friends did, and instead toured around Europe with her grandmother. While her social media painted the perfect picture of croissants and lattes, museums and gardens, nightly parties and luxury suites, the truth was far from it; her grandmother was growing sicker by the day, and chose to spend her remaining time with her beloved granddaughter.
A few months after she turned twenty-two, her grandmother passed away, and left all of her possessions and properties to Cleo, including a NYC brownstone, a house in the Hamptons, and thousands in jewels and clothes — not to mention a hefty trust fund and a 1/5 stake in the family’s distillery company. 
With more money than she’s ever known what to do with, and a stake in a company she’d veritably been banished from, Cleo enrolled in Columbia University at the age of twenty-three and is in the process of getting a Bachelor’s in Business, with a minor in Theatre Arts. She has no passion for business, but anticipates that there are many money-related fights ahead when she shows up to her father’s next quarterly meeting. Simply put, she just wants to be prepared. Secretly, she wishes she could be pursuing Theatre and English, and write the sort of plays her grandmother would have been proud of. 
personality:
+ traits: whimsical, generous, extravagant, artistic, eccentric
- traits: vindictive, spoiled, flighty, pretentious, eccentric
facts:
age: 24
sexuality: bisexual
gender: trans female
pronouns: she/her 
occupation: business major @ columbia university
written by: daisy / she/her / est
wanted plots / relationships / connections:
One of my headcanons for Cleo is that she’s turned her grandmother’s Hamptons house (somewhat stunted in vintage glamour from grandmother’s days of glory) into a new arts collective — a place for people to put on plays, debate philosophies, throw fashion shows, and converse about art and culture, etc. More times than not, however, it’s used as a wine and cheese gossip club, but Cleo still puts on at least one play towards summer’s end out of tradition. So please give me members of Cleo’s arts collective / gossip crew !!!! (This would also definitely be open to people trying to mooch off of the free food and champagne, which I think would also be a fun dichotomy to play around with.)
Cleo’s an extravagant sort — her grandmother shaped her to be, and in some ways, she chooses this as a means of keeping her grandmother alive. Still, extravagance also comes with its own sense of wastefulness and eccentricity; give me people willing to go along with her flights of fancy, who wear ball gowns and tuxedos just to sit in the cheap seats at baseball games and glittering jewels to McDonald’s at 3am.
Somewhat uncomfortable with being alone, Cleo is almost always seen with a friend or two on her arm. These are the people who know everything about her, who maybe attended the same high school, or at least were in the same tight-knip social group in NYC due to their shared social statuses. Give me the best friends! (Part of me honestly wants at least one of these friends to be more of a frenemy, but we can sort that out later or have that naturally develop.)
The friends with benefits that are so secure in being both friends and lovers that they flirt endlessly in that casual, easy, somewhat ironic way where they talk about marrying each other while not meaning a word of it.
Anyone who doesn’t like her because she’s pretentious, spends too much money, goes through weird, arts and literature-inspired phases, is too flighty, etc. There’s a lot of reasons to be a hater. 
Cleo’s not a bad girl, per se, but it’s not impossible to see her committing some petty crimes for the sake of art, hunger, love, etc., — she’s pretty easily swayed by passions, and could be convinced to do most things if they tug on her heartstrings enough. (I could definitely see her doing something like this.) Give me the artistic partners in crime, or for something similar but darker, look to the next connection!
With a childhood spent around Southern debutante balls, and later teen years in the audience of Broadway shows and jazz clubs, Cleo has sort of lived in a rosy bubble of pretty and pleasant things. As such, she hasn't quite gotten to see the seedier clubs of NYC or experienced the darker side of the city — or even life, really. Give me a bad boy-type who  shatters her perfect little bubble.
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exquisitley-obsessed · 7 years ago
Text
Dating Jasper Hale Would Include...
MASTERLIST
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look at this boy - showing off
You two would probably get off to a rough start – especially if you are human, because this is Jasper we’re talking about and this boy struggles.
Jasper would be one to make a large deal every time his skin so much as brushes against yours. 
Sharp inhales whenever your breath warms his cool skin, white knuckles when you mindlessly draw circles on the centre of his palm, rigid muscles when you coil your arms around his neck and pull him into you. 
But of course, this only lasts so long, because he will learn to deal with the thirst just so he can hold you when you need it.
This means that your first kiss probably had the build up of the century. Both of you kind of in a daze wondering if this really was about to happen.
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Unlike Edward, Jasper keeps the vampire thing away from you for as long as possible because even though he’d never admit it with you, he felt human again. And the fact that he wanted to keep it that way made him so spiteful towards himself.
You’d probably find out about the vampire thing through the rest of the Cullen family assuming that you already knew. Like you meet Alice for the first time and she doesn’t come right out and say Jasper’s a vampire, but she makes lots of hints through jokes and stories.
You wouldn’t confront Jasper right away, you give it a few weeks of stewing and stressing before you can’t hold it anymore. You quickly become agitated by Jasper because the fact that he’s withholding something from you just becomes so clear when you think about it. 
Then, your having a fight when…
“There’s something you’re not telling me,”
“Where are you getting this from?”
“Oh, bite me…”
“…”
“So, it’s true,”
You two spend exactly one week away from each other after this to think things through, Jasper especially.
That is until he shows up on your doorstep at 3am.
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Jasper only ever staying with you through the night when you ask.
BECAUSE JASPER IS THE BIGGEST GENTLEMENT.
Opening all sorts of doors for you, calling you ‘ma’am’ in his sweet southern drawl, tucking your arms neatly through his when you walk down the street. But there’s a weak spot to this polite exterior. 
For example, his eyes always get playfully dark whenever you call him ‘major’.
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Jasper reading in the corner while you study and shouting out help when you need it.
“Babe, I keep getting-”
“You’re getting the right answer you just need to square root it at the end,”
“Ahhhhh...thanks babe,”
You two always end up having the most interesting and philosophical conversations:
“Jasper, if 2 mind readers read each other's minds whose mind are they really reading?”
“Y/N, what if I try to fail but succeed, which one did I actually do?”
“Hey Jasper, did you ever think about who closes the bus doors when the bus driver gets off?”
“Y/N does Lightening McQueen pay car insurance or life insurance?”
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Jasper is a little bit of the jealous type, though he’d never admit it.
But whenever he sees you laughing with your friends or embracing another guy, he can’t help but feel how much easier it would be for you if your boyfriend wasn’t him, if your boyfriend was human.
He just wants what’s best for you, even if that meant he would have to leave you.
But he would only do that when you asked.
Which of course you would never.
Sometimes you notice him staring at you with this slightly tortured look and you just know what’s running through his mind.
So, you wait until you’re alone and then you just pull him into the frothing sheets of your bed and hold him silently. Trying to find words to express how much he means to you, but before you do find them you’re already slipping into sleep leaving Jasper to gaze upon your relaxed features, his mind now calm and sure once you’re in his arms.
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