#I WANNA BE HIGH LIKE ALL THE TIME / MUSINGS *
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louismygf · 8 months ago
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some louis tomlinsons i never posted ^_^
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fatelcved · 1 year ago
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i drank some wine, got possessed with the need to write about alvina and levina bc they're gonna be important for ciaran's story as well as the overarching story, hit a lil wall bc it became more like a scene out of a book than an info post, and now i'm like. what do i do :' )
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domesticated-whores · 2 months ago
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choked so hard swallowing my drink down the wrong way that I almost puked and I'm still kinda nauseous hours later, so lol. also, friend (the mutual work friend of me and my man that actually hangs out with him outside of work) witnessed and started saying something about how some people choke on things like that bad enough that it kinda spooks them from drinking and they get dehydrated out of paranoia (no idea if that's true, sounds fake but whatever, he's one of those people yk?) and my dumb ass, full of autism and pure thoughts only, said "damn, if that were a problem I wouldn't be able to put nothing in my mouth, my gag reflex is shit 😞😞" which has probably made it's way to my man. because I'm stupid and was really woozy from coughing til I almost vomited and totally didn't think of what I was saying.
#doesnt help that a few days ago we were all hanging out smoking#and i dont get high easy with others evidently but they all have MAJOR tolerance and experience and im baby#so i feel pretty mellow and dazed pretty quick when we do anything despite them all feeling almost nothing#(even though my man is very quick to tell me when something isnt even strong so idk what everyone else ive smoked with is smoking)#(because i hardly get the slightest bit chill from it any time i smoke with anyone else usually)#(but i digress)#and so i was higher than i mayhaps should have been from what i had because again hella baby#but i heard friend say *SOMETHING* that 100% had my name and i think had the word “head” in it#in like a whisper to my man who was sitting on the couch between us#and i was like “okay im feeling kinda dazed and shit and i have hearing issues and hes very much talking so i cant hear--”#“--so i shouldnt make assumptions on what he said because im probably REALLY mishearing what i did hear lol”#but then my man kinda glanced at me and made a noise (an almost laugh??) and said “nah not yet” quiet but not as much as a whisper as friend#so i do lowk wonder if i heard right lol#and if i did thats a whole other story#because pooki cmon#babygirl get real#i sleep over there not infrequently and we cuddle hella intertwined and kiss and all#ive told him that im stupid as fuck and have anxiety so i need things EXTRA communicated with me#ive hinted at kink#ive told him that i trust him fully not to force me to do anything that i dont wanna do and that as long as hell take no for an answer--#--id have no issue with him telling me what to do more often because i again trust him and would say no if i really didnt want to#(in nonsexual situations like him asking if i wanted to go run an errend with him or wait for him at his place and such)#that i was hoping hed be more confident in making a move by now#but im acespec and in zero rush because sex is take it or leave it to me#id do it for him and i really do want to but its so not a need or even much of a craving#but i might bring it up eventually if he doesnt because he is so sweet and cute and i think he just doesnt wanna assume#because he had to be told that its okay to kiss me and that he can and should talk to me at work like a normal person#so i deadass think he just doesnt want to force me into anything but is also bad at communicating so he doesnt really ask either#its just funny that i think they were talking about me giving head a few days ago and i choked and said something stupid today tho#whores lovesick musings
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alexiroflife · 6 months ago
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"first day"
fluff, happy fushiguro family, slice of life, megs' first day of school send-off
Synopsis: you've been dating toji for a while now and megumi subconsciously calls you mom for the first time on his way out the door
to sum it up: you adore the little family you've come to be a part of
WC: 1,701
Warning(s): none
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"Megs!" you call out, standing by the front door awaiting the dark-haired boy's arrival. He soon shuffles around the corner from his room, throwing a bag over his shoulder with a tired expression on his face.
His father turns to watch him walk in, crossing his arms as he leans against the counter. "The hell were you doing in there that took you so long?"
"Nothing," Megumi grumbles, moving to brush past the two of you to rush to the door. "I just wanted to look presentable, that's all."
"So you took thirty minutes to get ready?" Toji quirks a brow.
"Believe it or not, dad, some would say that's not enough time to get ready in the morning."
"Not at all, actually," you agree.
Toji tugs the corner of his mouth in judgment. " Well, you should know," he says to you. "You spend at least ten years in the bathroom when we have somewhere to go."
You scoff, rolling your eyes. "That's such an overreaction. I never take any longer than an hour." Megumi and his father exchange knowing looks and you place your hand on your hip. "What?"
"Don't worry baby," Toji assures you. "It's okay to be in denial."
"We've timed it before. The last time we all went out to dinner as a family, you took two and a half hours to get dressed," Megumi adds.
"That's only because I had to shower and pick out an outfit then do my hair and makeup," you defend.
"Isn't that a little overkill? It takes me half that time to shower, get dressed, eat breakfast, and get some homework done."
"Whatever. Your sister would understand," you sigh.
"Unfortunately, she may be worse than you."
"Women," Toji tsks. You slap his bicep and he pretends to flinch, smirking down at you playfully. "Ouch."
"Alright, well, I'm ready now. I don't wanna be late," the sixteen year old says, turning back to reach for the door handle.
"Ah ah ah, wait!" you stop him. "You're not going anywhere without me getting a good look at you. Turn around, I wanna see how the uniform fits."
Megumi lowers his head and complies, turning back around stiffly for you to admire him. You press your hand to your lips to conceal your smile, eyes gleaming with pride as you look over the sharp navy jacket and pants he adorns.
"Awwww," you coo. "It fits perfectly! How does it feel?"
"Pretty good," Megumi nods, moving his arm around slightly to show his mobility in the fabric. "It's comfortable too. It shouldn't be a problem during missions."
"I still can't believe how quickly time has gone by," you muse. "You're already going into your first year at Jujutsu High! Are you excited?"
"You better be," Toji grunts. "Your uncle Gojo hasn't gotten off my ass about your enrollment for years. At least now, he'll finally shut up."
"I still don't understand why I have to have him as a teacher. He's such a moron, I doubt he'll teach us anything useful," Megumi mumbles.
"Moron or not, he's the strongest sorcerer of the modern age and he's helped out so much. I'm sure he'll be able to give you a good experience," you say positively.
"We talkin' about the same Gojo here? The one who trashed my house playing tag with Megumi and the dogs in the living room?" Toji points out and his son grits his teeth at the memory.
"Oh come on, Satoru was like twenty one back then. I can only imagine the crazy shit you've with the kids when you were raising them," you tease.
"You don't even want to know," Megumi exhales.
"Please, you came out just fine, didn’t ya?” Toji says, reaching out his hand to ruffle at Megumi's spiky hair. The teen recoils, craning his head away and shielding himself with his arm.
"Quit it. I'm not five anymore."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You're all grown up now, I know. Gonna be a first-grade sorcerer before I can even blink an eye."
"Who said that I would be first grade? I'm only a first year."
"Yeah, and look at who your pops is," Toji grins. "Plus, you got an advantage that I never had. You'll do just fine."
Megumi hums indifferently, doubting himself momentarily but accepting the words nonetheless. "Alright, are we ready?"
"No, not yet!" you pull out your phone quickly and open the camera. "I need to get pictures."
The blue-eyed boy slumps. "(Y/n), I gotta go."
"I know, I know, just a few," you promise, holding your camera up to capture his awkward figure in the frame. "Okay, smile."
Megumi doesn't, and of course you don't actually expect him to. Instead, he calmly stares at the camera with his arms at his sides, unsure of what to do with themselves. Toji moves to stand behind you, leaning down to take a peak at the million pictures you're snapping.
"Toji, go stand with him so I can get one with the both of you."
The two groan simultaneously. "Doll, can we just focus on gettin' the kid to school?"
"It's fine. His stuff is already moved into his dorm. We have time."
"But-"
"Shut up and go stand with your son, now," you glare firmly up at the green-eyed man and he huffs.
"Yes, ma'am."
Toji raises a hand to his hip and tilts his head boredly as he stands beside Megumi, the two of them sharing the exact same blank stare as they look into the camera. You squeal happily. "You two are so cuteee!"
"We done, now?"
"No, I wanna get one more with Megs, and then I'm good." The boys give you a look, but you wave them off. "I mean it! Gosh, here Toji. Take our picture."
Toji obliges, grabbing your phone from your hand as you rush over to the tall boy. His expression melts into serenity as you place your hands on his shoulders and lean your head against his arm, smiling widely at the camera as a hint of a smile touches Megumi's lips.
Toji's heart warms at the sight, watching the way his son grows comfortable in your presence. The picture of the two of you looks so natural t to him like you are meant to be a part of his family, which he knows you are.
He snaps the photo and nods. "Got it."
You exhale, turning to face Megumi. You brush your hands over his shoulders to straighten his jacket, ridding it of any lint and wrinkles. "Okay, Megumi, please remember to be safe."
"I know. I will," he nods.
"And don't be too reckless when it comes to training."
"I won't."
"And try to make friends. I know how easy it is for you to push others away."
"I'll try."
You press your lips together with a final sigh, looking over Megumi's face warmly. You wrap your arms safely around him into a hug, your emotions getting the best of you. You have spent the past year caring for Megumi like your own, and watching him head off to achieve his goals makes your heart swell with joy and fear all the same.
"Text me or your father or Tsumiki if you need anything. Anything at all," you tell him. He returns your hug gently.
"Okay," he chuckles lightly and you pull away. "Don't worry, I'll be fine."
"...I know you will..." you pout. "Okay, I'll let you go. Good luck. I hope you have an amazing first day. I'll see you at the end of the week, yeah?"
"Mhm. I'll call you to let you know how the day went later."
"Please do."
Toji hands you back your phone and walks toward the door with Megumi. "Let's get a move on," he says. He leans over quickly to peck your lips farewell. "I'll be back in a few."
"Don't speed, Toji."
"Speeding gets you places quicker," he winks and you suck your teeth disapprovingly. Megumi opens the door, his dad gripping the frame.
"Bye, boys. Stay out of trouble," you wave, eyes glassy as you watch Megumi walk out.
"See ya, doll."
"Bye, mum."
The three of you freeze the second the words hit the air, everyone stilling in their tracks.
You feel your heart burst as overwhelming happiness consumes you. Megumi keeps his face forward, hiding his reddening cheeks as he processes what he has just said. Toji stares at the back of his son's head, eyes wide, before he turns to look at you to find your shocked, giddy face.
You don't have any time to reply when Megumi clears his throat suddenly, sweat dotting his forehead, and he walks rigidly out of the house and swiftly down the hall without looking back.
Toji stays behind, keeping an eye on you when you look up at him, stunned. "Did he just...?" you murmur.
"Yep."
Your eyes immediately well with tears and your lips wobble, your hands flying over your mouth. "He sees me as his mom?" you whisper.
Toji chuckles, ducking down to you with his hand still gripping the door. "Of course he does. He's always adored you. Him and Tsumiki."
"I'm gonna cry."
The assassin chuckles softly, pressing his thumb to the corner of your eye gently. "You're already cryin.'"
"Shut up," you sniff. "God, I love those kids so much. I just wanna give him all the hugs in the world."
"And you'll be able to. There isn't a better woman on this planet to be there for the kids," he kisses your cheek. "That's why I plan t'marry you someday."
"Fuck you, Toj. You're gonna make me cry even more."
"Sorry, baby. Can't help talkin' about it," he leans back to the doorway. "Let me get the kid squared away and make sure he's not dyin' of embarrassment, then I'll be back to talk to ya about makin' this official."
"You're being for real?"
"Of course I am."
You lower your hands and beam. "Tell Megumi I love him and get back here soon."
"I will," he hums. "But I thought you said no speeding?"
"Just- make sure the two of you at least get to the school in one peace."
He smirks. "Will do, doll."
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nereidprinc3ss · 2 months ago
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belladonna
in which you have to get your tetanus shot, and spencer is there to hold your hand. and… tease you. just a little bit. (bandages universe)
fluff warnings/tags: needles/r has needle phobia, flirty!reader, idiots in love, teasing, not established relationship yet, anxiety, Spencer makes a joke abt his addiction, did I mention IDIOTS IN LOVE a/n: works as a standalone, as do all the bandages fics I believe. anyway hope u like! <3
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“Spencer, I don’t think I can do this.”
He sets down his shoddy hospital coffee and grabs your knee to stop your leg from its rapid bouncing, exerting a gentle pressure when you don’t immediately comply.
“Yes, you can. Just breathe, okay? Try to relax. It’s much harder for your brain to remain in fight-or-flight if your body is relaxed.”
“No, it’s—I feel like I can’t breathe right now,” you say, chest constricted in a vice of panic. “I think my heart is beating too fast, I—”
Footsteps approach from the hallway and your head snaps up, cold dread filling every vein in your body—but they continue past your door.
“Oh my god, I’m losing it. I’m going to die here,” you rave, digging the heels of your palms into your eyes. The gauze wrapped around your hand presses against your brow and beneath it a cut throbs dully—a cruel reminder of what it is that you’re doing here in the first place.
Spencer gives up on trying to make you stop bouncing your leg, and instead the hand travels to your jaw to find your pulse. His fingers feel cool against your warmed skin, accentuating the constant thrum of your heart. You watch his face anxiously as fifteen seconds go by. 
“Your pulse is pretty high,” he admits gravely, returning his hands to his pockets. Your brow knits at his sudden solemnity as you look up at him. “I’m not a medical doctor, but… we might have to take you to the hospital.”
Any trace of worry withers from your face. “Truly hilarious.”
The corner of his mouth turns up a little.
“See? You’re calm enough to make a sarcastic joke at my expense. If you were actually going to die I doubt you would be able to do that.”
“Wanna make a bet?” you snap.
“Definitely not,” he smiles, warm eyes alight and not at all fazed by your attitude. “You’re the last person I’d bet against.”
“Ha,” you say bitterly, eyes darting to the door again. “In that case I might just take my chances with tetanus.”
“I just watched you slice your hand open on a rusty fence, take down a man twice your size, and get ten stitches without flinching. Needles should be afraid of you.”
At least now your face is warming from the compliment and not the anxiety. 
“It’s... different. Like, stitches and shots. Shots really fucking freak me out. I don’t know if you could tell. I’m sure I seem really chill about it.”
He nods sagely. “Trypanophobia. It’s among the most common phobias in the world, next to Arachniphobia, Ophidiophobia, Acrophobia, Aerophobia. You have Astraphobia, too, don’t you? Fear of storms?”
“Spencer.”
“I also used to struggle with needles, actually.”
You look back at him, suddenly curious.
“Used to?”
“Yeah, but I pretty much got over it when I got all the vaccines for my clearance at the Academy. Becoming addicted to intravenous drugs helped, too, but I wouldn’t recommend it,” he muses, examining the art on the wall behind you and taking a sip of his coffee.
At that exact moment, the door opens and a very professional, very exhausted-looking nurse hurries in. You hardly even register her because you’re staring at Spencer, trying to figure out if you just heard him right. He’s looking right back at you over the rim of his cup, eyes dancing with what looks like suppressed mirth.
The nurse says something, and you bless her with an ‘uh-huh’, unable to take your eyes off of Spencer.
“I must be hallucinating,” you say.
“What? You’re the only one allowed to make off-color jokes at inappropriate times?”
“I didn’t even know you could make a regular joke, honestly.”
“You ready, dear?” says the nurse, swabbing your upper arm with an alcohol wipe.
“Ah! Spencer!” You yelp, thrusting out your hand for him to take. He quickly sets the cup  back down on the window sill and takes your outstretched hand, stepping closer.
“Relax,” he laughs upon seeing how your shoulders have risen to meet your ears. “Don’t look over there. Look at me.” Gently he brushes a loose strand of your hair behind your shoulder, redirecting your focus toward him. At this point you’ve gone catatonic anyway, so you don’t resist, although it doesn’t seem to matter much because you’re basically blacking out. “Literally relax your arm. I'm serious. It will hurt less.”
“Small pinch, darlin’,” the nurse says, and you clench your jaw so hard you’re afraid you might break a tooth, and maybe some tetanus-induced lockjaw wouldn’t actually be so bad, and she’s touching your arm now, and who made that extremely undignified squeaking noise, and— “And you’re done.”
You frown.
“I’m done?”
“You’re done,” the nurse repeats. Logically she has no reason to lie to you about this, but you look over to check anyway because there’s simply no way you’re done just like that. Sure enough, she’s smoothing a band-aid over your shoulder and pulling your sleeve back into place.
You look back at Spencer as if searching for a second opinion, utterly baffled. He carefully frees his poor hand of your bone crushing grip and grabs your discarded FBI jacket from the chair, handing it to you.
“That’s it?” you say, taking the jacket and absent-mindedly folding it on your lap.
“That’s it. You did it.”
“Really? That’s all? I feel like it can’t be that easy. I don’t even think I felt anything,” you ramble, rolling your shoulder around, and finding just a bit of soreness.
“You were so brave,” he nods, stepping closer to wipe something warm and wet away from under your eyes. “Americans can rest easy knowing they’ve got someone like you in the FBI.”
“Shut up. Am I crying?”
He laughs, and the twinkly sound fills you with even more joy than normal. Everything seems a little brighter, a little warmer—probably another adrenaline rush or a result of your brain releasing a trace amount of opioids in response to the pain.
“Just a little bit.”
“You two are FBI?” The nurse says, like she can’t quite believe it.
Before you can tell her that you don’t very much like her tone, Spencer nods.
“Behavioral analysis unit.”
“Oh! You guys catch all those serial killers?”
He nods politely, giving her a flat smile. “That’s the goal, yes.”
“Wow. There’s a meet-cute to tell your children.”
You snort and immediately clap your good hand to your mouth, looking up at Spencer to see how he’ll react. Of course he’s already red and stammering.
“Oh, no—I—maybe I misled you, we’re not, uh… we’re not together. Not like that. We are partners in the, in the sense of our job, not—we’re not romantically involved. Just—co-workers. Friends. We’re, I’d say we’re good friends. I mean, she’s great. She’s very nice, and, well—maybe nice isn’t exactly the right word, but she’s, you know—”
“Spencer,” you interrupt.
“You ready to go?” he says immediately, looking very grateful that someone finally cut him off. Works like a charm, every time. 
You stand, and to your surprise, wobble a bit on your feet. Spencer steadies you with a hand to your waist. “Woah,” you mutter, trying not to look too disoriented.
“You need to eat,” he says. “With how anxious you’ve been you probably completely burned through whatever calories were in your system. It’s a parasympathetic nervous system response to adrenaline.”
“I know what it is.” You grab his hand and turn to the nurse, who is looking at the two of you with a bemused, slightly clinical interest. “Um... thanks? Right?”
“Okay,” Spencer says. “We’re leaving now. Come on. Go.”
As he’s herding you out the door, you keep trying to look at him over your shoulder. “Is it weird that I kind of liked it? Does that, like… point to something?”
“Never repeat that,” Spencer says, shaking his head, but you can hear the strain of a hidden smile in his voice. 
You smile up at him as the two of you walk down the empty hallway, swinging his hand in yours.
“She thought we were together,” you say, and it’s almost a gloat, though Spencer can’t quite wrap his mind around what that might mean. Instead, he relishes the weight of your hand in his. He doesn’t exactly remember when that became commonplace, but he never takes it for granted. He can’t help the smirk across his face which always lets you know he’s going to say something snarky. 
“She just doesn’t understand that you need constant attention or you’ll die.”
Luckily, you’re used to each other. Quips are just one prevalent dialect in your vast love language. 
“Yup. I’m a delicate, rare flower.”
Spencer scoffs lightly.
“Yeah. Like deadly nightshade. Or water hemlock.”
“Those ones are pretty, right?”
He squeezes your hand. Imagines telling you that he’s in love with you and has been for a very long time. 
Instead, he thinks about dinner. 
“Gorgeous. Where do you want to eat, Belladonna?”
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for more of these two, check out the bandages universe masterlist!
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veltana · 4 months ago
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Breaking point
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✦ Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes/Fem!Reader
✦ Word count: ~2,5k
✦ Rating: Explicit
✦ Warnings/tags: Dub-con (proceed with caution if this might trigger you), pwp, smut and a bit of fluff at the end, possessive/protective!bucky, degredation (slut, fuck doll, cum-bucket), grinding, choking, spitting, pussy slapping, fingering, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, pet name (sweetheart).
✦ Summary: Bucky is done with you going out with losers.
✦ Note: This used to be called I will kill them if they touch you but I never liked that title so I renamed it! Also, you guys didn't know what you were voting for, but it was the banner for this story! Please reblog and comment! Asks are always welcome 💚
Masterlist | AO3
"Please don't scare this one away as you did last time," you beg and look at Bucky's reflection in the bathroom mirror. He makes a face where he's leaning against the door frame behind you and then sighs when you give him a look. "He wasn't worth shit if he didn't wanna fight for you," he points out.
Now it's your turn to sigh and you cross your arms, glaring at him. "He isn't supposed to fight for me on a first date. We're supposed to have a good time and hopefully fuck." Bucky's mouth hardens, and he looks away. He doesn’t like that, at all.
Ever since you became roommates he's been very protective of you, helping you with the smallest things, driving you everywhere you need to go, even if you can drive yourself. Sometimes it's overbearing but most of the time it's nice to have someone care for you like that.
Unfortunately, recently he's picked up a habit of intimidating the people you go on dates with. He stands behind you when they come to pick you up, and his large frame and cold stare make many of them cower. A few have turned around right away, others have asked if that's your boyfriend or something, thinking it was some type of open relationship/cuckold situation.
"Don't say shit like that," Bucky says through gritted teeth. "I don't wanna think about you fucking other people." You can't help the teasing smile that cracks your face. "Makes you jealous?" With a huff, Bucky pushes off and leaves you to continue.
Two hours later your makeup is done and your hair fixed to perfection. You sit on the couch in shorts and a t-shirt, with a glass of wine, waiting until the last minute to put on the skin-tight dress. While scrolling on your phone, Bucky sits beside you with a beer. "So where's the loser taking you?" "Don't care,” you shrug. “Honestly, my priority tonight is to get laid. The previous ones were a little too… bland. But he seems promising." "What do you mean, bland?"
Putting your phone down you look at him, "You don't wanna hear this anyway, you'll just get mad," you point out. "I don't get mad," he defends. "Pfff, you're such a liar, I can see it in your eyes whenever I mention another guy." "Because you deserve the best and all I've seen is trash."
Irritated, you put your glass down too. "Why don't you pick for me then? Who would James Bucky Barnes deem worthy of fucking me?"
The grip on his beer is so hard his knuckles whiten and his lips are a thin line. When he doesn't answer you lean back and start to count people off.
"Well, Steve seems a bit too sweet for my taste but I mean I would not mind trying a slice of that all-American beefcake," you muse. "Sam is so charming and funny! That quick tongue would probably work wonders, if you know what I mean," you wink and watch as Bucky's eye twitch, his jaw clenched hard.
"Tony," you continue. "Well, he seems a little self-absorbed but maybe he's a really selfless lover. Won't hurt to check!" "Loki is so handsome," you bite your lip. "I would surrender my body to him in a heartbeat! But I've heard that he leaves people high and dry and that would be awful."
Tilting your head, you say, "Do you think Thor and Jane would be up for a threesome? I can just imagine eating her out while he fucks me from behind and then we could-"
With a slam he puts the bottle on the table and grabs your face with his hand forcefully, silencing your tirade of words and squeezing your cheeks so that your lips pucker.
The grip is close to bruising and it's an instant pull in your lower stomach. His eyes are black with anger, something you've never seen directed at you before. "No one," he hisses. "Not one of them is fucking you, I will kill them if they touch you."
His hand releases you and grabs your neck instead. You're shocked, and instantly so horny it hurts. Opening your mouth to speak he squeezes harder, making a wheezing sound come out.
"I'll give you a chance to stop this. Tell me right now you don't want this and we'll act as if nothing happened. Otherwise, I'm fucking you into this couch until you can't remember your goddamn name." When he finishes his grip lightens. The rush of blood makes you euphoric and boneless. You want to give yourself to him, let him do whatever he wants. "Fuck me," you whisper.
The kiss is more teeth than lips and the hold around your throat hardens again. You try to keep up with him but it's impossible as he pushes his tongue into your mouth, claiming every inch, making you lightheaded with the lack of oxygen. You gasp for air as he pulls away, releasing you. His gaze is brimming with lust and want now, all signs of anger gone. Then he pushes you down onto the couch.
"You're a kinky little slut, aren't you sweetheart?" he mocks and leans in over you, spreading your legs with his. All you can do is nod and try to wiggle close so you can press your center against his clothed cock. It's clearly outlined in his sweatpants and you hope it's as big as it seems. "If I put my hand down your pants, are you gonna be wet for me?" "Yes Bucky," you whine.
The throbbing is almost unbearable and his smirk is downright sinful. "Come on, rub yourself on me, show me how much you want it." With another whine, you brace yourself against the couch and lift your hips. He doesn't move a muscle to help as you struggle to find the right position.
"That's disappointing," Bucky smacks his lips and frowns. "Thought you wanted this." "I do Bucky, I do, please I'm trying," you tell him desperately. With effort, you get into a good enough position to grind your cunt on his cock through the layers of clothing. It's not nearly enough to curb the ache.
"Useless," Bucky sighs and grabs your legs. "Do I have to do everything?" He pushes your knees up towards your chest, folding you in half and pushing his cock right into your core.
"Sorry," you moan. His mean words have only made you needier and you move yourself against him with abandon. Bucky is motionless above you, not making a sound or saying a word, just staring at you chasing your high. Your movements turn unsteady when you start to come close.
If you were of sound mind you would notice the glint in his eyes but instead, you’re barreling towards your climax. Until he suddenly moves away.
Gawking you stare at him and he just smiles wickedly in return. "Take off your clothes, spread your legs" he instructs and you quickly pull your pants off and discard your t-shirt and underwear, spreading your legs as best you can on the couch. Bucky takes in your bare body, moving his hands slowly down your thighs until his palms frame your pussy.
"Fucking shaved for him too,” he notes with a snarl. You're not sure why that upset him. "Sorry!" you say, just to be safe.
"I don't need your hair curled, your make-up done or your whole body shaved. I will fuck you anyway, sweetheart, no matter what you look like because you belong to me," he growls before he spits on your cunt, sending a rush through you, making you moan and spread your legs even more.
For the first time, he touches you properly, letting his fingers spread the spit all over your pussy before shoving two of them into your soaked core. He pistons them in and out, putting his thumb against your clit and making colors burst before you.
"You want to come on my fingers, you fucking slut?" When you nod frantically he instructs, "Open your mouth, stick out your tongue." A second after you do spit lands on your tongue and droplets on your face. It nearly tips you over.
"Swallow it," he orders and watches you as you do, some form of approval shining in his eyes for the first time. "Who do you belong to?"
The question is too complicated to understand, you can't focus on what he wants. "I don't…" is all that comes out.
"Wrong answer," he says and removes his fingers, making you shout in disappointment. Sharp slaps land on your wet cunt and you instinctively try to move away from it, but he grabs your legs, pulling you back. "Don't you fucking run from me."
"I'm sorry," you cry, looking pleadingly at him. "I'm- I'm yours James, yours to do what you want with. Please, please, please let me come!"
With a huff he pushes his fingers back in, pressing the tips into your g-spot and getting his thumb back on your clit. His unbothered state makes you feel so small and insignificant, heightening the pleasure coursing through you.
As it climbs, your body shakes, your legs trembling from being held open. "I'm- I'm- don't stop!" you beg. Closing your eyes you focus on the feeling of him, his other hand still gripping your thigh hard. You hope it bruises.
"I can feel you, slut!" Bucky's voice is the cherry on top of everything. "Come on my fingers, do it, come for me!" he commands and of course, you do as he wants. With a scream you convulse, almost pushing him out with the sensation flooding you. Bucky is talking above you but you're not sure what he's saying because all you can hear is the blood rushing in your ears.
A hard tap against your cheek makes you open your eyes. "Don't pass out on me, I'm not done with you yet." "Wouldn't dream of it," you smile dumbly, and it earns you a smile in return. But it quickly passes as he pulls off his tank top and pushes down his pants. The cock is just as big as you hoped.
He rubs the head against your soaked center, sending overwhelming sparks through you, making you twitch. When he notches the head of his dick at your opening your blood freezes. "C-condom?" you stutter.
Cocking his head he asks. "Do you really want that? Doesn't a slut like you want to be filled up with cum?" "Y-yes, but, Bucky…" you gnaw your lip.
"I want to fuck my little cum-bucket raw, make sure you feel me running out of you for days," he gives a light thrust, almost pushing inside, giving you a taste of heaven. For a second you look at each other and Bucky presses in just a little bit more. It decides it for you. "Please fill me with your cum Bucky, I need it so bad!" you whine and he chuckles before shoving his fat cock into you without mercy.
Quickly you wrap your legs around his hips, meeting his hard thrusts that are sending your body into overdrive. "Feel so fucking good sweetheart, your cunt was made for me, wasn't it?" he groans. "Yes it was," you answer breathlessly.
He grabs your face. "Those other losers are never going to satisfy you." "No, Bucky, only you!" "That's right, you're my fuckdoll now, sweetheart," he says before he leans down to kiss you. It's much sweeter this time and you grab his head, carding your fingers through his hair, feeling your chest fill with another type of warmth.
When he pulls back he says, "Beg me not to come in you." Your cunt clenches and your second orgasm is suddenly a lot closer. "Bucky, please don't… I can't get pregnant," you make your voice small and frail.
In response his laugh is cruel. "Yes you will, your purpose in life is to be bred. I'm going to cum in you every day til it sticks and then everyone will know who you belong to." "Please, pull out," you beg and reach down to rub your clit, feeling the climax shimmering underneath your skin.
"Such a bad liar, sweetheart," he chuckles. "Are you going to come on my cock? Are you gonna claim me just as I claim you?" "Yes! I just need- harder!" you pant. "Fucking hell," Bucky grunts and does as you demand.
The climax rips through you with little regard for your sanity. The sound leaving your throat makes it raw and a second later Bucky moans your name loud enough for the neighbors to hear. It's almost good enough to feel him finish inside you that you come again, but you’re too spent to do more than shudder.
Then he kisses you again, sweetly, caringly, and pushes his arms in under your body to hug you close to him. "So perfect," he whispers against your mouth. The cums start to trickle out onto the couch but neither of you care, too caught up in each other's lips.
"How are you doing sweetheart?" he asks when he comes up for a breath. "I feel a little high," you confess. "Haven't been fucked that good in a long time."
There is something in his gaze that shifts and he leans his forehead against yours. "I'm sorry. I just… I couldn't take it anymore… I like you so much." "Lucky for you I get off on that stuff," you smile. "And if I had said stop I trust you would have."
He hugs you so hard you can hardly breathe. "Of course, I fucking would." "You can make it up to me by going tender the next time," you smile. "Next time?" "As many times as you’ll have me." He laughs into your skin. "I don't think you're ready for that!"
Suddenly the sound of the doorbell jerks the two of you apart. You stare at Bucky with wide eyes. "My date," you whisper, horrified.
With a smirk, he raises himself on his arms. "I should make you go on that date with my cum running out of you, maybe even let him get as far as spreading your legs just to see that you’re already claimed."
With a groan, you cover your face with your hands. "Don't tempt me," you tell him before wiggling out from under him, finding your clothes, and hastily pulling them on.
Opening the door just a crack, you understand you look a mess by the way your date eyes you. "Sorry," your voice is small. "I wasn't feeling great and then I fell asleep on the couch." "Yeah, you look terrible," the guy notes before handing you one of the ugliest bouquets you've ever seen. Quickly stepping away he says, "I'll call you." but you know he won't. "Great, I'll see you around," you respond before closing the door.
Bucky takes the flowers from you and shoves them in the trash before grabbing you around the waist and kissing you again. "Didn't you say he was promising?" "I have no clue what you're talking about," you answer with a completely straight face but then start to giggle as he swoops you up and carries you to his bedroom.
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awrkive · 4 months ago
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THE LOVE PROGNOSIS, pt. 1 — JJK (m.)
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for as long as you can remember, you’ve always been a hopeless romantic.
the girl who’s always dreamt of cheesy encounters with her soulmate, grand love declarations, and a cute little beach wedding to boot. but reality pretty much slaps you hard right on the face, because love, unfortunately, doesn’t come grand — it’s simple and it’s quiet, but it is quite painful, especially when the love that you’ve been seeking for all your adult life has just been right under your nose all this time.
PAIRING jungkook x female reader // mingyu x female reader
GENRE r18+ (angst, fluff, smut) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
CHAPTER WORD COUNT 20k 😍
CHAPTER WARNINGS/MISC medical!au, roommates!au, surgeon!jk, surgeon!reader (they are both 4th year residents and are co-workers), corporate lawyer!mingyu, oc and jk are bffs since med school but their love language is fighting each other <3, jk and mingyu are bffs during undergrad, jk sluts it out quite often😞, hopeless romantic!oc, countless mentions of weddings and engagements, angsty undertones, it’s the… yearning? 97liners assemble lmao, the surgeons gang: jk, oc, nayeon, doyeon, taehyung <3, explicit sexual content [dry h*mping, making out, c*nnilingus], alcohol consumption, arguments 🤓, i personally have only acquired a degree on Bingewatching Grey’s Anatomy so my medical knowledge is.. you see.. greys anatomy 💔 BUT! i did a lot of research for this pls dont crucify me 🙏🏼 belated happy birthday jaykay, my forever muse❤️❤️
NOTES hello awrkive nation!!!!!!!!!!!!! sorry this got delayed!! gave up on trying to make this a one shot cos it stretched out into 50k words IM SORRY! anyways check out my trello page for updates on my writing progress 🩷 make sure to comment down ur thoughts and like and reblog to circulate hehe !! asks are deeply appreciated!! scream your takes!! let me know what you think!! also made a spotify playlist for this mini-series soooo if u wanna listen to the songs that i think embody this fic, i've linked it below 🫶🏼
[ TLP MOODBOARD ] // [ SPOTIFY PLAYLIST ]
SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST
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For as long as you can remember, you’ve always been a hopeless romantic.
The girl who’s always dreamt of cheesy encounters with her soulmate, grand love declarations and a cute little beach wedding to boot. You’re the kind of girl who thought her high school jock boyfriend would make good on his promise of keeping contact until college. That girl who thought the guy she met at nineteen at some sleazy frat party wanted more than just sex. The girl who thought that her boyfriend at twenty-one would finally be The One after introducing her to his parents on New Year’s Eve. You’re exactly the kind of girl who thought that it was smart to get a boyfriend in her first year of med school and get proposed to in fourth year.
Reality pretty much hit you hard with a big slap on the face; because you soon found out that your love interest doesn’t suddenly come into your life while you clock in your shift at a coffee shop, and there is no such thing as grand love declarations – no one wanted to profess their love to somebody at airports anymore, or even in the pouring rain, for god’d sake! And there is never going to be a beach wedding when there’s no one to do it with in the first place.
Because even if you do everything right, men just always somehow manage to do you wrong.
Your first boyfriend, Changsub, just suddenly ghosted you after you moved to a different town for college. When you saw him again for winter break, he was dating the girl from his History class – the blondie who was always the cause of your heated arguments in the lockers because you’ve always been jealous of her. Needless to say, you never talked to him again, and Changsub never bothered to reach out either.
At nineteen, you met Soohyun at a frat party your roommate invited you to. He was part of your college’s football team – the regular famous jock, and you felt a little bit special when he showed you a little bit of attention. When he chased you for a while, you caved in and had sex for the first time. You soon realized that was his thing – “popping them girls’ cherries” – as what you’ve overheard from his equally asshole teammates when you made an impromptu visit at their sweaty, stinky locker rooms – and that he apparently had a thing for girls in the cheerleading team (you were a part of it for awhile). Soohyun just told you it wasn’t working anymore. He was out and about with another girl three days later.
You swore at twenty-one, you were smarter. Heck, you got your heart broken two times already by then by the same brand of asshole with two different names and faces! You must’ve been a bit wiser, no?
But in your defense, Jaehyun was totally different from Changsub and Soohyun. He wasn’t an athlete. He was low-key… an introvert, and a total nerd. A film major guy who was so good at getting you through his art. He told you you were his muse, and you believed it wholeheartedly for the almost three years you’ve dated, most especially when he brought you to his hometown that one New Year’s Eve and introduced you to his family on your first anniversary.
You don’t exactly know what happened then… he just ran cold. Backed out of your plans of moving in together. Suddenly got so busy with his gigs when he normally would make time. Until the elephant in the room was acknowledged and it was just over before you knew it.
That relationship was your first “I love you”, Jaehyun said it was the same for him.
Fast forward, he gets married two years into the break-up, which is six years ago from the present. He has three kids now, two lovely girl twins and one boy. You didn’t go to the wedding, just sent him a post-it card that said you’re happy for him.
Which is true. He was your first love, but the heartbreak didn’t last long like you thought it would.
Because lastly, there was Eunwoo. The guy you met during the construction of the condominium near the apartment where you were staying at for med school.
Cha Eunwoo was an intern architect around that time, a nice one at that that it didn’t really take long for you guys to hit it off. Too many encounters on the street made you think that maybe it wasn’t just a coincidence anymore that he was there whenever you walked passed by. You really thought it would be difficult for you to love somebody again like how you loved Jaehyun… but Eunwoo made it easy. He did everything right. From the cute encounter, a grand love declaration in your fourth year together wherein he proposed to you in a romantic cruise ship dinner, down to the beach wedding he promised you during that night.
What was supposed to be a three-month engagement lasted longer than you both wanted, though. And it was mostly due to you because you told him you couldn’t marry yet. Not until you pass your licensure exam. Unintentionally, it stretched into a year. Eunwoo blamed it on your internship, said you were too busy that you couldn’t really give him time anymore.
You still remember that argument so vividly inside your head. When you said you told him already that it was life for you in residency. He rebutted with the sentiment that if you wanted to, you would. But you knew it was unfair of him to say that – not when he was also volunteering himself for the mountain of projects at his firm just so he could impress the senior architects there. Eventually, the engagement was called off. You two broke up. You both settled that it was the schedule conflict… you were just both so busy with your careers. Such big ambitions. So much to prove, passionate to a fault.
But two years ago, Eunwoo got married, and his wife is a general physician. The last time you two accidentally bumped into each other at a café downtown, he said he was “so happy and contented” that he felt like “taking a sabbatical to focus on being a husband”.
You guessed then he doesn’t actually mind dating doctors. Doesn’t mind making sacrifices for them. He just minds specifically you.
Your long, tragic dating history should already stop you by now from believing in love altogether. You mean, it just never works out for you, do they? The universe gives you a taste of what it’s like to embark on that journey, but it never takes you to the final destination.
But what can you say… love is just so special to you; romance, falling in love… they hold a significant place in your heart that you can’t help but bet on it every time it comes. You just have so much love to give – but unfortunately no one to give it to, because the men you date always don’t want you in the end of it all.
It bubbles up frustration in you, especially when you see all your exes getting fucking married left and right and them having the audacity to send you an invitation – and even thank you for what you’ve helped made them become. Eunwoo made that lame ass speech in the café. It’s such a subtle physical act of slapping you right on the bone of your cheeks and violently hurts you psychologically.
You’re frustrated that marriage seem to come easy for them, but never for you.
It’s why you unintentionally spat water out of your mouth when one of your co-residents, close friend, Nayeon, announced:
“Minhyuk proposed!”
Naturally, your other friends at the cafeteria attend to your spluttering, with Doyeon patting your back and asking, “Girl, are you okay?”
You shake your head repeatedly at them, tapping your chest to regulate your breathing, putting on a tight smile before turning to Nayeon.
“I’m sorry— what? Minhyuk proposed?” You ask her, and you don’t intend it to sound incredulous.
Nayeon, thank god, doesn’t notice it. And you realize it’s because she’s in a lovesick haze to care about anything else.
“Yep!” She almost squeals. “You guys are all invited to the engagement party next week on Friday.” She giggles when Doyeon pokes her side, lightheartedly teasing her about the wedding.
“Oh my god, I’m so happy for you!” You say, grinning widely, but your jaw hurts from the way you forced it. You look at each one of them; Nayeon, Doyeon, and Taehyung. “You guys are soon gonna be… married.”
Taehyung turns to Doyeon, taking a bite of his sandwich. “Doyeon’s still single, though.”
Doyeon throws a napkin at him. “It’s because your kind are bums. Anyway, Taehyung is also still not married.”
Taehyung pauses. Then, he purses his lips into a thin line, raising his eyebrows, nodding slowly.
“Well… about that…”
“He’s planning to propose to Hyerin!” Nayeon exclaims and quickly covers her mouth when some of the doctors in the cafeteria turned their heads to look in your direction. She shrinks herself small, as if realizing what she’s done, and then her eyes widen when she sees your guys reaction. “Oh fuck, I’m so sorry, Taehyung!” Nayeon quickly apologizes to him who looks like heaven and earth fell on him. She scrambles to say, “It’s just that I saw the ring in his locker today and so of course I have to ask and you guys met Hyerin, she’s an amazing woman and I’m so excited for her and Taehyung and she are a good couple aaand… I’m shutting my mouth.” She stops, closing an imaginary zipper over her lips when she notices the death glare Taehyung’s sending her way.
He turns to look at the rest of you.
“Well… you heard it from her.”
“Oh my god, Tae! This is insane!” Doyeon tells him. “When are you proposing?”
Taehyung shakes his head and rubs his nape. “I don’t know… she has this, uh, case that she’s confident on winning this Thursday. Maybe I’m going to do it when she gets home that day…” he trails off, and Nayeon coos at him when she sees his ears turning red. Doyeon throws back the napkin Taehyung threw at him, and she receives a juvenile pinch on the arm from Taehyung back.
You laugh along with them.
But deep inside, you’re finding it hard to process all the information that you learned today. You were just letting out words when you said that they were all going to be married, an exaggeration at best, because Nayeon is apparently now a fiancé, Taehyung has been in a long-term relationship with his prosecutor girlfriend that it’s easy to assume their next step is tying it down, and Doyeon is single but you refuse to believe that’s the case. It’s a wild theory that your friends have but you all feel like she has a secret boyrfriend or something.
Apparently, though, you’re not exaggerating at all. Because Taehyung is indeed planning to tie it down.
“It seems like everybody is getting married these days, no?” Doyeon mentions. She looks at you and you feel your heart beating abnormally for some reason. “What about you, __? How did that blind date last week go?”
She’s talking about the guy whom your cousin set you up with a few months back and have only gotten around to meet a week ago, Park Hyungshik.
They all seem to eagerly wait for your answer, and you can only meekly shake your head, sipping on a juice box so your jittering fingers can have something to do.
“It was okay.”
You can see the way their shoulders deflate, and you know you don’t need to explain the details for them to know how bad the date actually went.
“Fuck men.” Doyeon sighs.
“I agree.” Taehyung affirms, followed by Nayeon.
It earns a laugh from you.
“Fuck off, you guys.” You say, rolling your eyes, knowing they’re blindly judging Hyungshik in unconditional support for you. The joke is appreciated though, as it makes you light up and forget about the sudden grey that washes over your insides at the terrifying thought that maybe you’re never going to be married at this rate.
“You’re laughing right now but I’m still scared that you’ll just put up an IG story of you and Jungkook getting married on a random Sunday.” Nayeon suddenly says which elicits quite a violent reaction from you.
“Fucking gross, Nayeon!” You slap her on her arm and she gives you an ingenuine, “Owe!”
Taehyung laughs and adds in another nonsensical input, “That’s where my grandma and grandpa started, by the way. The line between love and hate is thin, after all.”
Your face contorts into a deeper frown every passing second as they continue to tease you.
“Fuck you, Taehyung. I’ll kill you in your sleep and me and Doyeon will hide the body.” You threaten him with your eyes and when he only laughs more, you make quick work of your hands and snatch out his egg omelet, putting it in your mouth fast enough he doesn’t get the chance to take it back.
“Aw, man! Hyerin cooked that for me!” He whines, going back to his seat, defeated after trying to get back the food from you.
But Nayeon is more concerned about another thing.
“Why is it only you and Doyeon? I can help hide Taehyung’s body, too!” She says, face painted with an expression so solemn as if you betrayed her.
“You made the joke first, you don’t get the privilege.” You cross your arms under your chest.
“I’ll commit perjury for you in court. Doyeon can’t do that ‘cos she still hasn’t told us about her secret boyfriend.” She insists.
Taehyung deadpans. “You guys really do love me a lot here, no?”
“We never pretended to love you, Taehyung,” Doyeon taps his arm, giving him a contrasting look of faux sympathy. “And for the nth time, I do not have a secret boyfriend,” She says dryly, sounding exhausted for having to say it again. And then, she turns to you, “Where is that punk, Jungkook, anyway?”
You scowl at her. “Seriously guys, why do you always look for him from me?”
“It’s just that you always know where he is, babe.” Nayeon says as a matter of fact. “No offense.” She says, looking straight into your eyes. When she sees your eyebrow raising higher, she adds quickly, “And malice!” And then she continues some more, “Even though I personally think you’d be cute together and all but we understand perfectly you both just have this sort of weird relationship where you’re platonic roommates and you’re like best friends but you argue all the time for no reason—”
“Oh my god, shut up, Nayeon.” Doyeon cuts her off before she goes on a spiral again.
“See why it’s only me and Doyeon who gets to hide Taehyung’s body when I kill him? You’re gonna tell the police word for word how exactly I did it.” You tell her, and she pouts at you.
“And we’re back to killing me again.” Taehyung comments, sighing, and you stick your tongue out at him in that juvenile manner, only that Taehyung does the same because he’s an even bigger child than you.
“Kids, stop fighting.” Doyeon warns. “Seriously, where is Jungkook?”
“He told me he has a laparoscopic cholecystectomy.” You say.
“Damn.” Comments Taehyung.
Everybody including you nod in understanding.
It’s always been an inside joke in your friend group that Jungkook and you are gonna end up marrying each other because you’ve known each other for a long time, the closest to each other, live together – and you both are also the ones that can’t keep a relationship.
After your breakup with Eunwoo in the middle of your internship which was four years ago, you took a break from dating for a very long time. It’s only two years ago that you picked up going on casual dates, having quick flings, all that sort of stuff. It’s an occasional thing and they never end up as something more.
It’s why you’re still single up until now, and it’s not even that you want to be so – you prefer to be in a happy, loving relationship, thank you very much – but you yearn for a deeper connection with someone, and every date just doesn’t seem to click. And even though you find a little ugly bitterness when somebody brings up marriage, you would never, ever want to settle down with somebody just ‘cause you feel like you have to.
Meanwhile, Jungkook is a special case. He’s single because he wants to be. He’s single because according to him, the bachelor life has “chosen” him and he can’t do anything about it.
It’s why he goes to this myriads of dates… with those… women. Sleeps around. Never attempted a serious relationship as far as you’ve known him except that one time in your last year of med school when he exclusively dated Min Sora for about a year.
You don’t judge him for the kind of life he lives. He’s just an admittedly good-looking, liberated guy who hooks up with good-looking women who are looking for the same fun as him. When you asked him if they ever do fall, he told you that they always agree prior sex that it’s just going be a one-time thing (two or three or four times if they particularly like each other… or whatever the hell he said).
Despite that, Jungkook is – and always has been your best friend. You met each other in med school and were in the same study group together with Doyeon and Taehyung.
As much as heartbreak is a constant in your life, Jungkook is a frontrunner in it as well because from being in almost all the same classes during med school for four years, you both decided to live in the same apartment unit together.
It has two different bedrooms, of course. The apartment’s a big unit he and Taehyung owned three years ago until Taehyung moved in with his girlfriend. Jungkook couldn’t pay for it all by himself, and the only logical roommate choice was you because when he proposed it to Doyeon, she just looked at him disgusted beyond belief.
You’ve been with each other for so long it’s quite impossible to not know the other like the back of their hand. You’ve seen him during his worst in med school days up until the years of your residency as does him you. You both shared the highs and lows of life with the other’s presence, and as much as you both quite differ in the way you approach certain things in life – he’s ultimately your person, the one-call-away friend (or the one-knock-to-the-door-friend), and the guy you can always lean on when things are just particularly hard to bear.
Jungkook may not be the most ideal when it comes to romance, but he’s the guy you’d certainly wish was your friend.
Why you don’t understand when the rest of your friends tease you both is because you’re so… platonic with each other. Sure, you’re closest – you knew each other first – but you and Jungkook never acted borderline sweet for other people to be making assumptions. You aren’t the kind of friends who call each other siblings but then get weirdly clingy towards each other behind everyone’s backs.
You may have had a tiny bit of crush on him when you first saw him during first year of med school – it’s a common fact that he’s handsome and whatever, okay – but he had never shown interest; from post grad all throughout the years of your shared residency. You never, either.
But maybe it’s the teasing, since you always fight like goddamn children whenever you’re near each other. There’s nothing romantic about it, though, you don’t think so. In your defense, that’s how your dynamic works! That’s how your friendship with everybody works! If you didn’t banter with a person, you probably hate them.
Shaking the thoughts of Jungkook in your head, you continue to eat your lunch, asking questions about Nayeon’s further plans, squeezing your break with the rest of your friends, knowing your pager is going to beep anytime soon.
What Doyeon said, though, everybody does seem to be getting married these days. If you could sigh, you would, but you have to do with a little bit of internal mulling for now lest one of the gang notices and you get interrogated for it. You don’t want to get aired out for feeling suddenly weird at the tough realization that again, everybody seems to be getting married and proposed to except… you.
You’re happy for them – you really are! You’d be such a shit friend if you weren’t. But there’s a pang in your chest and you know exactly where it’s coming from.
There was an added case to the OR schedule when you checked it earlier this morning, and you were assigned to it as per instruction from the chief of your team – a melanoma excision.
After your lunch, you went to scrub in for the surgery and it was what made you busy including the paper works needed to be done, so busy that you thought you’d forgotten the pain from a while ago.
Turns out, it sat at some bench at the far end of your heart, hiding and shrinking itself for a little while, only showing up when it’s time for you to clock out; in the quiet of the locker room, alone while you change out of your scrubs.
You let out a heavy sigh and lean your forehead to your locker door, closing your eyes and getting your breathing even.
You’re just tired from work. You tell yourself. You had two surgeries today; it would be true. But you know it’s not entirely that. It’s the reminder of your loneliness when you see an envelope peeking out from your locker.
You take out the invitation card for Nayeon’s engagement party she’s given you this afternoon. It’s a thick off-white material that has her and her fiancé’s name printed on gold beveled font. So intricate to the touch; you deduce once you run your fingers over it.
“Yo, what are you up to?”
You quickly stand up straight and hide the envelope behind your back, your other hand going right above your chest when you turn around only to see Jeon Jungkook approaching the inside of the room.
“Jesus christ, learn to knock.” You say, genuinely surprised and taken aback. Jungkook cocks a brow at you.
“Feisty.” He muses, and the way his eyes fall to your chest makes you realize you’re still in your bra having not put yourself into a clean and fresh top yet since you decided to have a sentimental moment in your locker door like some high school girl.
“Asshole.” You mutter under your breath, making quick work of putting on a shirt.
Only when you’re done wearing it do you see Jungkook stripping out of his own scrubs until he’s left with only his boxers across from you.
“Some decorum, please?” You tell him, turning around to sit on a bench to change out of your sneakers and wearing a more comfortable pair of sandals.
You hear Jungkook laugh behind you.
“What can I say? I’m a bit of an exhibitionist, you see.” You take a quick look at him so he can see how far your eyes roll to the back of your head. Jungkook ignores that, wearing his shirt while he says, “You’re out the same time tonight?”
You take out your ponytail and comb your hair through your fingers to fix it.
“Yeah. You?”
Jungkook smirks and suddenly there’s something flying at your direction. You’re quick on your reflex and manage to catch it on time, only to realize it’s his keys.
“You’re driving.”
It earns an instant groan from you.
Jungkook puts on another pair of shoes while laughing. “What? I drove us here this morning.”
You’re about to give him an attitude but then you realize making him pity you may be more effective. Stepping closer to him, you sit on the bench where he placed his foot to tie his shoes on. You look up at him and try your puppy face on.
“But I had two surgeries today, Kook.”
Jungkook stares at you, his expression unreadable. A few seconds pass by, with you blink up at him, and you think he’s gonna cave.
Instead of getting swayed by your poor attempt to get his sympathy, he takes down his leg and says with a sarcastic smile on his face, “I did a major one. Yours were both minor.”
Your shoulders deflate, making sure to jab at his thigh that was at eye level and snark, “And two is more than one. Fuck off, Jeon.”
Jungkook follows behind you while his boisterous ass is laughing.
“Don’t get pissed at me, are you kidding? It’s your turn to drive. Favor for a favor.”
You turn back to him, and because you were walking in a faster pace, he crashes to your back. He grips your shoulder, pursing his lips into a thin line, obviously holding in another fit of laughter.
“You’re gonna drive us tomorrow here, do you understand?” You say, giving him an ominous glare.
Jungkook raises his hands up. “Okay, okay.” He nods his head, and to piss you off more, he adds, “Bossy.”
That earns him a pinch to the side which he quickly dodges. Rolling your eyes, you shake your head and continue to head towards the exit.
You both enter his car soon after.
“I miss my car…” you longingly say, turning on the ignition to start driving.
“It’s still in the shop?” Jungkook asks while rummaging around his compartment glove to look for a snack. He always has a few in it. It’s convenient.
“Yeah, the mechanic told me it’s gonna take a few more weeks. So,” you look at him bitterly.
“That’s tough.” Jungkook comments, opening a granola bar and biting on it. He extends his hand to you. “You want some?”
You stretch your neck to the side, eyes still on the road while taking a bite off his food.
“Tough because you can’t bring your girls here anymore?” You joke a little. Jungkook gives you a dirty look. Your eyes widen a little, realizing what you just said. “Please say you don’t fuck in your car. I’ve touched your passenger seat and your backseat.”
“Give me more credit, yeah? I don’t fuck in my car, that shit is unhygienic as hell,” Jungkook rolls his eyes, and you heave a sigh of relief upon his confirmation. “I wine and dine my women before we do the deed, thank you very much.”
“You’re just so sweet, aren’t you?” You say with a straight face.
Jungkook sing-songs. “Just like how they like it.”
“You’re really beating them off with a stick these past few years, huh?”
“A gorgeous stick, might I add.”
That earns a disgusted groan from you, which he laughs at, and you drop the subject before it even goes to another place.
There’s a comfortable silence that sits on the air for a while until Jungkook speaks.
“Hey, what was that earlier?”
“Hm?”
“In the locker room.” He says.
You shift uncomfortably in your seat. Clearing your throat, you answer, “Oh, it’s just, uh… Nayeon’s getting married. Do you know that?”
“Yeah.”
You turn to him in surprise. “Wait, how? You didn’t eat lunch with us.”
Jungkook snorts. “I saw the invitation cards in her locker yesterday, she thought she was being discreet. She threatened me to keep it a secret when I asked her about it, though. I guess she told you guys today at lunch?”
“Oh my god, you really need to stop snooping in everybody’s locker.”
“I do not snoop in in everybody’s locker.”
You give him a certain look. Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Don’t change the subject.”
Letting out a heavy breath, you look straight ahead as you say, “I don’t know. I wasn’t doing anything…”
“Just getting a little sentimental in the locker room?”
“A bit.” You purse your lips. “But it’s not a big deal.”
Jungkook doesn’t say anything to that. From your peripheral vision, you can see him staring at you but you choose to ignore that, focusing on driving instead.
“If you say so.” He says after a while.
You’re thankful for the dismissal. Jungkook’s usually insistent that you tell him everything – he’s just nosy like that – but deep down you know it’s because he cares. And if you’re in any trouble, he’s always willing to be there for you may it be listening to you vent or eat unholy amount of Chinese take out in the middle of the night.
As you went on the road, he played a few of his playlists and they served as background noise as you both talked about your day, like how your surgeries went. It’s a usual drive when you’re both in the same car together – which you’ve done quite a few times now because after all, you work in the same building and gas is expensive. It’s the most logical way to save up in this economy.
These past few weeks, though, it just so happened that your car got a little bitchy and started to act up so you made a bargain with Jungkook.
Anyway, you both arrive at your apartment shortly, with Jungkook and you taking turns in the shower.
“You wanna order in something?” Says Jungkook who’s currently drying his hair, a towel wrapped around his lower half.
He wasn’t kidding when he said he’s some kind of exhibitionist. Jungkook has the habit of walking around the apartment shirtless and sometimes with just even his boxers on, and it’s not like you aren’t used to seeing it! You admittedly see a lot of it when you guys would change in the locker rooms back at the hospital, but that is work, and you have more things to worry about at work other than your co-worker changing in front of you.
Still, it’s hard to get used to his exhibitionist tendencies. You had a hard time with it especially in the first few months of living together, but you had to adapt, and right now, even though you can say you’re partly immune to it, his naked upper half still bothers you. A little.
Listen, you’re a human being with primal instincts and men who have good bodies do, in fact, distract you a tiny bit.
“Nope.” You take a sip of the glass of water, closing the refrigerator with your foot, looking at Jungkook who groans at your answer. “What?”
“I was hoping we could split the delivery fee.” He deadpans.
“Wow. And they say chivalry is dead.”
Jungkook laughs while you head towards your room. He follows you until you reach your door so you turn to him, putting your hand on your hip as you ask, “What?”
“Don’t think too much about it.”
Your furrow your brows. “How do you mean?”
“The wedding,” Jungkook says with a soft smile. “And weddings, in general. I know you’re thinking about a few things up in that smart brain of yours. Don’t.”
You’re completely taken aback by his words, but at the same time, you’re not at all that surprised. Jungkook can read you almost like an open book.
Still, you decide to lie.
“I’m not thinking about weddings, weirdo.”
“Liar,” Jungkook’s brow arches, and you know he’s figured out your shit. “Your nostrils flared up. You’re lying.”
You groan, giving him a light jab at his bicep. Jungkook chuckles.
“My nostrils do not flare up.”
“It does so,” Jungkook points out. “Like this.” He stands there on your door and start to purposefully enlarge his nostrils to imitate you.
You roll your eyes. “My face is not like that when I lie. Go back to your room,” you say, pushing him slightly out of your doorway, ready to close it in front of his face, but you add more, “And don’t bother me.”
Jungkook stands up straight and gives you a salute. “Yes, ma’am.” he says in a register octave lower, walking away with laughter as you tell him he’s annoying. You roll your eyes once again before finally closing your bedroom door.
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A lot of people may judge your love for romance as naivety, but you really couldn’t care less. Even if you get heart broken countless times, love will never fail to make your heart soft and make you feel like you’re floating.
It’s exactly what you think as you look at Nayeon and her fiance, Minhyuk, on the stage huddled so close together, laughing and giggling to each other. They look so incredibly happy. So connected. So sweet. It brings a feeling of warmth to your heart – to see one of the most important people in your life finally meeting the person she wants to spend the rest of her life with. It makes you melt on the inside to see two people so deeply in love that it emanates in the whole venue of the garden their engagement party is being held at today.
The weather is sunny – not too hot, like the universe knows not to fuck it up for Nayeon and her fiance. There’s also a lot of people; their families, some of Nayeon’s friends and probably Minhyuk’s – people you’ve never seen before. You assume it’s Minhyuk’s friends or acquaintances. The guest list for their wedding must be big, but it isn’t surprising, given that Minhyuk comes from the big corporate world.
“You want more champagne?” Jungkook whispers beside you, ready to stand up from his seat.
You stare at him, and you notice his eyes are not even on yours. He has it glued towards a woman across from you. A pretty woman wearing a satin dress that shows off her slender figure. You notice Jungkook’s been looking at her since the beginning of the party.
Shaking your head, you scoff. “You’re just gonna pick up some woman.”
Jungkook sputters and quickly take his gaze off the woman. “No, I’m not. I just think she’s familiar.”
You raise your brow. “Let me guess… one of your hook-ups?”
Jungkook huffs. And then off he goes.
Everybody has their plus-ones except you two, and now that Jungkook is probably off his mission to find a hook-up for the night, you’re left alone as usual.
You don’t feel bad about it. The champagne is good and there’s hors d'oeuvre on the table.
“Miss?”
You look up, finding the owner of the voice.
And holy hell.
“Hi.” You greet reluctantly, not sure if he meant you. You’re also trying to contain a blush from spreading across your cheeks because goddamn, was the man beautiful.
He smiles. Wow. Whoever this is… he looks pretty damn good.
“Is this seat taken?” The stranger says, pointing to the now empty seat beside you. You look around but can’t really spot Jungkook.
So, you shake your head, gesturing to the chair beside you. “No, not really. You want to sit here?”
He nods. “Alone?”
“No, not really… but I’m Nayeon’s friend. I’m her co-resident at the hospital.” You smile, taking a sip of your champagne that’s already about to run out. “Are you one of Minhyuk’s friends?”
“You guessed right. Law school friends. Worked at the same firm when he was a practicing lawyer until he quit some time ago,” You nod at that, and he gives you a boyish smile again. He offers his hand for a handshake. “I’m Mingyu, by the way. Kim Mingyu.”
You take his hand.
“I’m ___.” You both laugh when you shake your hands together.
His hands feel rough but at the same time warm. It’s nice.
“You’re a doctor?” Mingyu asks, keeping up the conversation.
“Yeah. A resident surgeon.” You glance at him. “I’m assuming you’re a lawyer?”
Mingyu nods. “Yeah. Corporate.”
“I see.” You nod, looking in front of you again, trying to stray from any eye contact. He’s way too attractive for your own liking.
“Say… I hate to make this about work but I just need to ask real quick,” Mingyu says, and when you look at him, you furrow your brows at the worry in his eyes, suddenly growing nervous at the depth of seriousness it’s showing. “So, I got here, and I suddenly have this sort of… feeling of heart palpitation. Increased heart rate. It’s like it’s missing a beat and it’s been making me real nervous.”
“Oh,” you look at him in concern. “That’s— did you drink uh… coffee?” He shakes his head. You place your champagne glass on the table and turn your body to him so you can face him properly. You don’t know if it’s just the doctor in you, but you forget about pretty much everything when you see or hear someone feeling under normal. “Are you a smoker, then?” You continue your line of questioning.
“I quit years ago.”
“I see… okay, uhm…” You look around, trying to look for something. “There’s a lot of roots for heart palpitations. Does your heart feel like pounding right now? Flip-flopping or something like that?”
Mingyu nods.
“Okay… well I can’t say for sure – I wish I have stethoscope with me right now. But I’m gonna lay out all the possible reasons why you might be feeling so. Smoking’s out of the question. You didn’t drink coffee, but do you drink more than one cup in a day?”
“Not in the past few weeks, no.”
“So, you’re not overcaffeinated, then. I really don’t want to lay this out on you, but you might want to check in with your doctor if this is not your first time feeling this. Heart palpitations is normal most of the time but I’ve seen lots of people get in these situations and it ends up being arrhythmia, which is a really serious condition.” You look at him straight in the eyes.
Mingyu looks stricken back. “Well… are there any more reasons out there that’s not… as dangerous?”
You still in your position.
Oh, right. There is more.
“Are you feeling certain emotions right now? Like, really, strong emotion?” You say, internally face-palming yourself because how can you not remember one of the very basic roots of palpitation!
“Yes, I am.”
“Well… certain emotions do trigger your heartbeat to accelerate. It might be anxiety… fear, panic, stress…” You look at Mingyu, noticing that his once serious face is now forming a smile. That makes you back-track, but you hesitantly continue. “... infatuation.”
And then he says, “I think you’re right off the bat with that one.”
Your lips part slightly. A few seconds passed and then suddenly, what he’s doing registers in your head, and you can’t help but to let out a laugh.
“Oh my god,” You say in disbelief. “You weren’t– you weren’t actually asking for medical advice?”
“Bad way to flirt with a pretty woman, huh?” Mingyu smiles and it’s so dashing that you shy away from his gaze, but you’re still laughing at the turn of events.
“God, no. I can’t believe I didn’t get it earlier.” You say, gingerly placing a palm on your forehead at the embarrassment.
But Mingyu just laughs along with you.
“It was just bad flirting. I’m sorry,” He says, sipping from his glass and takes a glance at you. “I can do better.”
You arch your brow. “Oh?”
“Yeah. If you let me. Say, Friday, ten o’clock?”
You chuckle. “That was really smooth.”
Mingyu was about to say something when suddenly, you hear a familiar voice approaching your direction.
“Mingyu?” When you look up, you see Jungkook. You eye him in confusion, wondering how the hell he knew Mingyu’s name.
But then Mingyu speaks and you grow even more confused.
“Jeon Jungkook?”
“Oh hey, it’s you,” Jungkook says, and he looks genuinely surprised. Mingyu stands up from his seat to give Jungkook a hug, slapping him on the back – kind of like how guys usually greet each other. You watch as Jungkook reluctantly reciprocates it.
“You work with Nayeon?” Mingyu asks, and even with a smile on his face, you can see he’s also in disbelief to be seeing Jungkook.
Jungkook nods at him, still looking a bit stricken. You can’t figure out if it’s just his surprised face or something else. You’ve never seen him look so… stunned like this before. Nevertheless, he says, “Yeah. How ‘bout you?”
“Been with Lee and Song for the past three years, Minhyuk’s previous firm before he quit and went out to the business world.” Mingyu chuckles, tapping Jungkook’s back.
Jungkook smiles. “That’s crazy, man. I can’t believe we’ll meet here again.”
Mingyu, seemingly sharing the same sentiment, says, “Man, it’s been, like, what– almost ten years?”
“Yeah, yeah, too long, man.” Jungkook nods, chuckling slightly.
You hate to interrupt, but you’re confused, and you need to confirm something.
“Wait,” You butt in, making them both look at you. “You know each other?”
Jungkook sits across from you while Mingyu follows.
“We did pre-med together during undergrad.” Mingyu says.
“You did pre-med in undergrad?” You look at Mingyu incredulously, and he nods with a bashful smile on his face. You squint your eyes at him, feeling slightly betrayed that he asked you all that stuff earlier when the whole while he has a pre-med degree.
Jungkook cuts in.
“How the hell do you two know each other?” He said, leaning back and pointing between you two. It seems like he’s finally out of the trance he was in earlier.
“I just met him today.” You tell Jungkook, blinking your eyes at him.
“Well, how about you two? How do you know each other?” Mingyu asks and the whole thing suddenly feels like watching a game of tennis somehow.
You’re about to answer when Jungkook beats you to it.
“We’re co-workers. Together with Nayeon.”
Mingyu nods his head and then turns to you, “So not his girlfriend, then?”
“What? No!” you didn’t mean for it to come out that violently, so you repeat it in a gentler manner this time. “I mean no. What?”
Mingyu turns to Jungkook who’s now looking confused.
“I was just asking her out for a date.”
You suddenly feel blood rushing to your cheeks at his straightforwardness. In front of Jungkook, out of all people! You aren’t embarrassed! You just feel weird and shy.
But Jungkook looks at you as if silently asking you if Mingyu’s being serious. You tuck your bottom lip under your teeth.
Then he nods his head slowly. “Really?” Jungkook chuckles, looking at you. “What’d you say?”
Mingyu looks at you with a hopeful smile. “What do you say?”
You feel weird about doing the whole thing in front of someone, but you look at Mingyu again – how attractive he is, his charming smile, his physique, and his charisma… and you don’t think it’d be too bad to chance at least one date with him.
So, you nod, avoiding Jungkook’s sudden way too intense gaze.
“I would like to,” But he cocks his head to the side. You chuckle, adding, “Yes, Mingyu. I’d like to go out with you.”
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“Woah!”
“Jungkook, please knock!”
You look at Jungkook irritably while you lock your stud earring, standing up from your chair in front of the vanity table to pick up your purse from the edge of your bed.
“I was just going to borrow your hair dryer.” Jungkook says, trudging inside your room freely which makes you roll your eyes at him.
You watch as he expertly makes his way to your vanity table and slides one of the drawers, taking out the hair dryer.
“You need to buy your own one.” You say with a straight face.
But Jungkook just stands there for a while, and when his stare goes on longer than necessary, you start feeling conscious.
“What.”
“What are you so… dolled up for?”
You jab him on the chest when you get near him, enough to make him wince. “What an asshole way to say I look good.”
Jungkook laughs. Your heart drops.
Most of the time, you understand that your dynamic consists of teasing and bantering with each other until one of you gets pissed off. That’s usually you. But they never go too far – you’ve built a foundation of respect in your relationship which you love. However, sometimes, there are moments when you’re under a certain kind of pressure – like right now in which you only have twenty minutes before Mingyu arrives to pick you up outside of your building complex and you still haven’t done your hair – and Jungkook laughing while looking at you is not helping.
The faux confidence falls as fast as that.
“Okay, Jungkook, can you just tell me nicely if this dress looks ridiculous or if I put too much make-up on?” You say, failing not to sound defensive.
Jungkook’s quick to halt his laughter, and he looks taken aback at your clipped tone.
“What? I didn’t say anything.”
“You were laughing at me.” You point out, turning around to rummage through your make-up products scattered on the top surface of the furniture, thinking that maybe you overblushed. So, you look at yourself in the mirror.
Jungkook situates himself on your vanity table so you’ll look at him.
“Wha— you thought I was laughing at you?” You don’t answer, checking if your cheeks are way too pink, purposefully ignoring him. “Okay, that’s– I wasn’t. I’m sorry if you thought I was. I laughed at your words, not the way you look.”
You let out a sharp breath, look at him angrily, ready to present more argument, but you see the look of sincerity on his face and you realize then that you’re being borderline sensitive.
You sigh. “I’m sorry.”
“Hey,” Jungkook places a gentle hand on your shoulder.
You pout at him. “It’s just… first date jitters. I feel slightly anxious, I don’t know,” You sigh again, “I bought this dress two days ago.” You say, looking down at it. It has a tube top with thin straps, fitting your upper half like a glove but flows prettily to the bottom, stopping just about four inches above your knee.
“It looks good on you.” Jungkook comments, and you quint your eyes at him.
“You swear?”
Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Why would I lie?”
“To make me feel better, I don’t know,” Then you can’t help but chuckle. “Anyway, does my make-up look okay? I didn’t put too much blush?”
“You have lipstick on your teeth,” Jungkook says, baring his own to emphasize what he meant.
“Shit.” You panic, quickly ducking down to check it in the mirror.
You soon realize Jungkook was fucking with you when you hear him laughing beside you.
“I hate you.” You hiss, pushing his thighs so he can get off your vanity table. He remains on his seat, fighting your force while laughing. “Ugh, don’t you have a date of your own or something?” You groan as you take the hair straightener on the side, sitting back down again on the chair to straighten a certain part of your hair again so it’s looks nothing but perfect.
“Ohh, so you are going on a date.” Jungkook says as if he wasn’t there in front of you when Mingyu asked you out.
You give him a weird look. “With Mingyu, remember?”
“Oh, right.” He’s quiet for awhile, and then, “You’re really dating him?”
You put down the hair straightener.
“Yeah… why?”
Jungkook shakes his head. “Nothing.”
But you want to insist. “He’s your friend. You told me he’s a nice guy.”
He nods his head. “That’s true.”
You eye him suspiciously. “You’re making me nervous.”
Jungkook chuckles and pats your head. You scowl at him and slap his wrist.
“You’re like a cat,” Jungkook comments. “Anyway, I told you, it’s nothing. It’s just…” He trails off. You look at him, waiting for his continuation.
You don’t expect the genuine smile he sends your way.
“I wish it works out for you this time.”
Lips parted, you think about what to say to that, but nothing comes out of your mouth.
Jungkook gets off the table and brings with him your blow dryer. Before he heads out completely, he tells you, “And don’t worry about how you look. Mingyu likes pretty women. You’re exactly his type.”
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“Really, mini-golf?” You ask Mingyu, but he already has his fingers intertwined with you as you both enter the course.
You’ve just had dinner at some fancy restaurant that served, admittedly, good steak. He told you it was some sort of special place for him; where he takes himself to whenever he closes a deal or wins a case. You tried not to think too much about what it meant that he brought you there – given that you’re only on your first date.
But hey, maybe he thought you deserve to eat good steak? That’s probably what it was.
You don’t ask.
You thought the night was over when you finished your meal and good two glasses of Malbec, but Mingyu commented in his car that he’d love to burn off the food for a moment – and you didn’t really want to leave just yet.
So, you end up at Pier 26, and Mingyu’s enthusiastic.
“Come on, it’ll be fun.” He says, and you have no choice but to follow behind him.
“I really don’t know how.” You tell him, smile bashful as you watch him carry the golf club, walking towards the direction of the ball. 
“What’s up with that? I’ll teach you,” Mingyu says, putting down the club and unbuttoning his cuff to push his sleeves up to his forearms.
You try not to focus too much on the veins that show up at the action and how his biceps are almost fighting to pop out of his sleeves. His hands look so big compared to yours when he offers it to get you to stand beside him.
“Really? You’re gonna teach me like a big… macho man?” You tease, taking his hand nonetheless.
Mingyu smiles once you’re beside him, placing himself behind you, guiding your hands so you can hold the club together.
You can feel his breath on your neck as he instructs you what to do. “You just have to stand like this,” He lets go of your hands in favour of your hips, and your breath hitches when he whispers, “Look ahead, and you just… let go.”
The golf ball jumps out of the line and you giggle at the way it completely misses the hole.
“That was… wow.” Mingyu says, staring at the ball.
“Shut up! Okay, okay, I’ll try it alone.” You say, dismissing his incredulous look, a bit embarrassed at your performance.
From your periphery, you see Mingyu closely watching you as you grip the golf club a little less tight this time so it’s not too tense when you hit the ball. Squinting your eyes, you eye the goal and let out a controlled breath. You relax your posture just like he taught you and when you finally hit the ball, it lands right in the hole perfectly.
You turn to look at Mingyu immediately with widened eyes, and when he gives you a huge grin, you do a little jump out of excitement.
“Oh my god, I did that!”
Mingyu chuckles at your enthusiasm. And due to the high of hitting the goal once, you agree to another round until it turns into a session.
You only stopped when you got tired. Nonetheless, you realize it’s actually something you’re good at, and that geeks you inside. Meanwhile, Mingyu suggested you walk around the park for a little while.
Mingyu told you he was just going to buy some food at a stall, but as you sit on the bench to wait for him, you think about how you’d like to go with Jungkook here some time to challenge him to mini-golf. You almost always never beat him to any games… surely, he must not know mini-golf, right? You can finally have the upper hand, if ever.
“Ice cream?” Mingyu returns from the stall and extends the cone to you. You try not to show your wince. You’re lactose intolerant.
“Thanks.” You say, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. It’s not that bad, and you want this date to be perfect. Mingyu joins you on the bench.
The night’s cold and you regret not bringing your blazer with you and leaving it in his car instead.
“You know,” you start to strike up a conversation. “I’m still pretty shocked you studied pre-med.”
Mingyu chuckles. “Why?”
“I don’t know… but in hindsight, I should’ve known the moment you asked me about “heart palpitations”.” You say, quoting the last two words, trying to tease him.
“I really thought that was a good idea, huh?”
You snort. “It was–” you gesture with your hand, pursing your lips. “Pretty lame, yeah. But admittedly… it was cute. So, there.”
Mingyu laughs. “Thanks. I also thought that was a brilliant way to flirt with a doctor.”
You shake your head, laughing at him.
Silence sits in the air for a while until he speaks.
“You know what they say? Study law when you don’t know what to do after getting a degree, so law it was.” Mingyu shrugs.
“You didn’t see yourself as a doctor then?” You ask curiously.
“Not really. Didn’t really think too much about it when I chose a pre-med program as my major. Soon realized it wasn’t for me. I was lost in law school too for a good couple of years, though. But I love it now,” Mingyu looks at you who’s intently listening. “You? You always wanted to be a doctor?”
You look ahead, nodding. “For as long as I can remember.”
“Just like Jungkook, huh?” Mingyu chuckles. “He really wanted it a lot. I remember him excelling during those moving tests. He had a lot of people getting jealous over him for balancing his school and basketball lives so well, you know?”
You furrow your brows. “He did basketball?”
“Yeah. We were in the varsity team together.”
“Hah.” You smile. Jungkook. A jock. “That makes sense.”
“That I’m a jock?” Mingyu asks with a teasing smile on his face.
You didn’t mean him, but regardless, you nod, finding that it also applies to him. “You look like someone who plays basketball.”
“And what’s the diagnosis of that, doctor?” Mingyu leans closer.
You nibble on your bottom lip.
“Let’s say you have a… chronic jock face.” You say, not backing down from Mingyu’s sudden challenge of eye contact.
“I don’t know if that’s a good thing. Is that a good thing?”
You chuckle. “It just means that you are conventionally attractive.”
“Ah,” he nods, but you notice his hand making its way around your waist. You don’t make a move to protest it. “Then, can a conventionally attractive guy like me chance a kiss with a pretty girl like you?”
Your breath hitch when he leans his face closer. One more inch and his lips will lock against yours.
“Yeah.”
Mingyu doesn’t waste a second longer and leans in to plant his lips on yours. It’s nothing short of a peck when he breaks away from the contact, but when you look up at him with parted lips, he goes back to kissing you again, cupping your cheek and angling your face towards him better, this time taking you closer by your waist.
It starts off as something experimental, like he’s testing the waters first. But when you take out your tongue to prod the side of his mouth, he does the same and inserts his tongue in yours.
You did not really think that you’d end up making out of some bench at a park, but here you are.
“Oh,” you unintentionally let out a low moan, and you hear a guttural sound coming out from his throat. Your hands come up to fist his collar as some sort of support, and Mingyu responds with a slight pinch to your hip.
You break away from the kiss to regain your breathing, and Mingyu takes that as an opportunity to plant kisses across your cheek down to your jaw. Sighing at the sensation, you close your eyes as you let yourself get drowned in the feeling of his soft lips against your skin.
But when you open your eyes, you see people walking by at a short distance and that’s when you wake up from your trance.
“Mingyu,” You call him, but he’s too busy kissing your neck. “Hey, I think we shouldn’t do this here.”
Mingyu stops. Then, he looks at you, eyes hooded, hair a mess, his lips swollen, some of your lipstick getting on it.
Your blood flows to your cheek at the sight. He looks unbelievably hot. God, what more if he was under you and you were doing more than just kissing and– no, no. Not going there. Absolutely no thoughts of … there.
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Mingyu says after seemingly snapping himself out of the trance as well. “Shit. I really am.”
He looks so apologetic, so you put your hand over his arm.
“It’s fine. Just uh… let’s take it slow?” You tell him.
Mingyu gives you a small smile.
“Slow. Yeah. Let’s do it slow.”
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What's the definition of slow, anyway?
The tension at the park was too much and you made out some more in his car with heavy petting that may have included Mingyu copping a feel of your boob and you coyishly feeling out the bulge in his pants.
Safe to say, you haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since.
You started coming over to his place, but you still haven’t had sex. Not yet at least. You haven’t even taken off your clothes in front of each other yet. Suddenly, you remember being eighteen and just making out with your boyfriend – the territory of any form of sex prohibited for some reason. Somehow, you two have never gotten around that for the past few weeks you’ve hung out. It may be because you always stop it before it happens, but it’s not because you don’t want to; just that it feels like you’re going to a place you won’t know how to go back to.
So, it’s mostly date nights, a sneaky coffee hung during the afternoon when you’re not particularly busy and your schedule aligns, and making out in his car until your pager beeps or when his phone rings.
And as good as Mingyu may be with his lips when he locks them with yours, he’s more than what you thought he was.
You have to admit that you had doubts when you first met him. You don’t trust a lot of good-looking men, because they always end up being assholes. He also has the face of a guy who – in a cliche fashion – likes to break women’s hearts on a regular basis. You went to the first date a little hopeful of something real, but you knew your luck with romance isn’t the best – may be the worst you’ve ever known – but recently, you’re starting to think that maybe the poison’s wearing out and Mingyu may just be… decent.
Decent enough to be a boyfriend. Your boyfriend.
And it feels so weird to think so. You’ve been single for so long, and sure, you went to a lot of dates during the past two years but Mingyu’s going on two months, and everything just seems so… right. Like this can be it.
You hate having wishful thinking. You hate getting your hopes high. But god, he makes it so hard.
“You going with us later?” Nayeon asks, stretching her neck while looking at you.
You’re all currently at some abandoned ward at the hospital where you take quick breaks from your shift to eat or talk for a while.
“Where to?” You ask, taking a bite off Taehyung’s egg sandwich which he gave you earlier.
“We’re going out for barbecue tonight. Jungkook didn’t tell you?” Doyeon says, coming back from her quick trip to the vending machine.
You look at them confused. “No, he didn’t tell me about… barbecue or going out.”
As if on cue, Jungkook arrives in the scene.
“She’s not coming with us,” Jungkook says, and you look at him with visible offense on your expression. “She’s going out with her boyfriend tonight.”
The room quickly becomes rowdy at the declaration, and you flip Taehyung off when you hear him let out a lighthearted “boo”.
“Oh my god,” Nayeon squeals. “Mingyu’s your boyfriend now?” She asks, going over to the bed you’re sitting on, huddling closer to you ready to hear some gossip.
Doyeon looks surprised as well.
You look at Jungkook to give him a death glare. The fucker just puts his hands up in the air.
“No, god– why would you believe him?” You huff out, rolling your eyes. “Mingyu’s not my boyfriend.” Nayeon’s shoulders deflate. “Yet.” You add, and suddenly, she smiles. You take a glance at Doyeon who looks at Jungkook subtly. Or not so subtly, since you saw her. She didn’t seem to notice.
But Jungkook just wears a smug expression as he approaches you closer.
“See?” He shrugs, plopping himself on the same bed beside you. He looks at everybody. “She barely goes home nowadays.”
“Shut up, Jungkook!” You say, continuously hitting him on the arm as he makes little effort to dodge them.
But as usual, your friends love to bully you and join in the teasing.
“So, you joining or what?” Taehyung says after a while.
You actually had plans with Mingyu tonight. Just the usual dinner at his place and some movie and some fooling around, but you remember Jungkook’s teasing and felt the competitive need for him to not be right.
Besides, you don’t want to be the kind of friend who suddenly ditches their friends just because they’re starting to date – and you know that beneath their good-natured chaff is a genuine feeling of sulk because you’ve been admittedly bailing out on all your hangs lately.
It isn’t even that much because you don’t get to hang outside the hospital often – but you usually do go out on Fridays or Saturdays for some barbecue and go to a KTV bar afterwards. It’s sort of like became a tradition at this point, and it dawns on you that you haven’t been present in them for the past few weeks, which makes you feel bad.
“I’m coming with.”
Jungkook immediately eyes you with an arched brow. “For real?”
You challenge him with a look. “Yes, why?”
“I just remember you mentioning you’re going to Mingyu’s tonight.”
“Eh,” you shrug. “I’m just gonna tell him I’m hanging out with you all. No big deal.” You say, believing what you said. Mingyu’s come accustomed to your group of friends and you’re both adults who live separate lives. As far as you know him, he wouldn’t be making a big deal out of you cancelling on a plan. You think he’ll understand. You hope he does.
“Oh my god, don’t!” Nayeon cuts in. “Don’t worry about us. Go date your hot lawyer boyfriend right now. Are you insane?”
You look at her incredulously. “What are you talking about?”
Doyeon looks at you, nodding her head. “Nayeon’s right. If it’s between a date with my boyfriend or having barbecue with Taehyung and Jungkook, I’d rather be with my boyfriend,” She looks at the two guys. “No offense.”
“As if I don’t want to be with my girlfriend either tonight?” Taehyung says in disbelief.
Doyeon rolls her eyes, but she lets out a low chuckle.
“Wait– why are we fighting right now? If __ wants to cancel her date with Mingyu to come with us for barbecue night, then let her be.” Jungkook says.
In the corner, Taehyung crosses his arms and sends a certain look Jungkook’s way.
“Don’t get too excited, Jungkook.”
Jungkook and you pretty much have the same exact reaction at that.
“What the hell does that mean?”
You feel a slight pinch to your arm.
“Aw!” You slap Jungkook’s bicep for what he did. “What the hell!”
“I said it first.”
“You’re a child.” You roll your eyes.
Taehyung raises his hand. “I think you’re both twelve-year-olds trapped in thirty-year-old surgeons’ bodies.”
“Twelve’s too generous, I think they’re mentally still in first grade.” Doyeon comments.
You don’t get to rebut as you see a glimpse of the resident chief coming your way. It seems that the rest noticed the same thing, and suddenly, you’re all scrambling from your comfortable positions on the ER beds and going your separate ways to the hallways.
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You went to your go-to-barbecue restaurant as soon as your shift ended for the day.
The eating becomes a drinking session until everybody tapped out but you and Jungkook. More like, you, because Jungkook wasn’t drinking at all. Doyeon was the first one to call herself an Uber, and then Nayeon and Taehyung had to leave because they have an early shift the next day.
“Don’t you have a shift tomorrow?” You ask Jungkook, downing another shot glass of soju. Your alcohol tolerance is not that high nor is it that low, but after two bottles – you admit you’re starting to feel a little dazed.
“Yeah. Afternoon.” Jungkook responds. When he sees you pouring yourself another glass again, he takes the shot and downs it himself.
“Rude!” You pout at him.
“You’re all red and shit, it’s time to tap out.” Jungkook chuckles when you show him an even deeper frown. “Come on, it’s nearing twelve.”
“I’m so tired.” You whine, not even bothering to take your glass back from him, just letting your shoulder deflate and bowing your head down, your eyes becoming droopier by the second.
After four years of residency, you feel like you have started to operate on autopilot somehow. Wake up at fuck-ass o’clock at dawn to prep for work and finish a varying number of hours of shift for the week. You admittedly barely get time to partake in leisure activities – and it’s not new per say. It’s just like in med school except you’re actually doing the real thing now and instead of grades, real lives are involved and at stake – which puts an even bigger weight on your shoulders.
It’s why you’re thankful to Mingyu; for his presence… for starting to invite you to his place rather than eat out. Don’t get it twisted– you love the bougie dinners and all that, but his penthouse is definitely way more comfortable.
But lately you’ve forgotten about what it is like to hang out with your friends outside of the five-minute breaks in the hospital – and times like these you love letting yourself loose and relax because, hey, you deserve it a little!
“Should I buy you soup to drink in the car?” You can hear Jungkook ask. You don’t answer. “Yeah, I should buy you soup.” He tells himself.
And then you see him going to the counter only to come back after a few minutes with a paperbag in his hand.
“You’re drunk.” He announces.
You snicker. “I’m not.”
“You sure are.” Jungkook shakes his head as he takes you by your waist to help you stand up.
“Just feeling a little dizzy, ‘s all.” You mumble when you fall against his neck upon straightening your legs.
“You’re not just a little dizzy, silly.” Jungkook whispers against your head.
You hum as a response and you can feel the vibration on his chest as he laughs at you. He doesn’t say another word as he guides your steps outside of the restaurant, and before you know it, you’re situated in the passenger seat of his car, with him wearing your seatbelt around you.
“Thanks.” You give him a lopsided smile, shifting around in the space to get more comfortable.
“Welcome, your highness.” You giggle at his response. “Drink up, it’s gonna help you sober up.” He says, handing you the paper bowl of soup he bought from the restaurant a few minutes ago.
You groan, taking it from him and slowly sip from the cup. Jungkook tells you to get his water flask from his backpack on the back seat when you finish your soup.
The soup and water relieve you from the acid reflux you feel in your stomach. Only slightly. Because when you close your eyes and lean back on the seat more comfortably, that’s when you feel something in your throat.
“Jungkook,” You call him.
“Hm?”
“I think I want to puke.”
Jungkook immediately turns to look at you. “For real?”
You bite your bottom lip, nodding your head repeatedly.
“Okay, shit– wait,” Jungkook looks around for something. Probably a plastic bag or whatever. But when he finishes scoping the area around the interior of his car, he seems to find nothing. When he glances at the rearview mirror, he takes a reverse and suddenly, he turns off the ignition of his car. “I’ll park here for a while. Let’s go outside.”
He gets out of the car first before opening your door. You think you’re fine to walk on your own, but you don’t oppose to Jungkook wrapping his arm around your waist and leading you to a…
Playground. The swings, in particular.
“Sit here for a bit.” He instructs, holding the chains steady for you as he waits until you’re sitting on it. He runs towards the car, and you feel way too weird in the throat to ask him why.
You recognize the place that’s not exactly far away from your complex. Maybe a ten-minute drive away.
Jungkook comes back with a crumpled plastic bag. It’s from a familiar provision shop. Probably was in his compartment glove the whole time.
“Here,” he hands you the plastic. “I’ll help you.”
You get it from him and shake your head.
“No, it’s fine.”
“I don’t mind.”
You look at him straight in the eye. “You’re not gonna help me puke, Jungkook.”
Jungkook stares at you for a while and then sighs. He holds the chains of your swing again, standing beside you, putting his hand in his pockets.
“Okay. Puke your heart out.”
You snort. You open the plastic bag and get a feel of that weird invasive push in your throat – until you realize Jungkook is watching you.
Looking up at him, you whine, “Jungkook. Don’t watch.”
Jungkook furrows his brows. “I’m not watching.”
“It’s gross.” You say, a bit embarrassed. The whole thing’s embarrassing, to be honest. Jungkook taking care of you because you got stupid drunk. It’s not the first time, and there were definitely a lot more occurrences worse than this – you’re just grateful he hasn’t kicked you out of a curb. Yet.
“Watching somebody puke?” He scoffs as he says your name. “We literally amputated a leg today, and FYI, I’m just scared you’re gonna have some serious complication while puking.”
You frown because– okay. Fair. He has valid points.
“Okay. Well. I’m not gonna die puking. So, turn around or stand back there at the slides far from me.”
“Seriously?” Jungkook asks, disbelief painting his voice.
You just nod. Thankfully, he doesn’t say any more and obediently walks about five steps away from you, acquiescing to your request.
It takes you a few minutes to settle yourself before you let out the accumulation of what you’ve digested for the day. Your throat feels crass when you’re done, and your stomach feels empty. When you look ahead, your head still feels like it’s floating. But at least you feel a little better now.
“Drink this,” Jungkook approaches you again and gives you his tumbler once again. You drink from it quickly and quietly. “Feel okay now?”
You hum, nodding and smiling up at him.
“Thanks, Kook.”
He only mirrors your smile and goes to sit on the swing beside you. “You wanna go home now?”
You nibble on your bottom lip, contemplating his question. As you look around, you notice it’s so... solemn. It’s midnight, after all. There’s a sort of eerie calmness with the cricket sounds but the wind is nice and the dark skies project twinkling lights.
“It’s so nice here,” You say instead.
“I’ll take that as a no.” Jungkook chuckles and you follow.
You look at him and sincerely, you ask, “Just for a few minutes, please?”
Jungkook’s quick to say, “Okay.”
His voice is just as gentle as the night breeze.
“Thank you.”
“It’s nothing. You’re sobering up?”
“Eh. I’m getting there.”
“Good.”
You look at him again. “Thank you.”
Jungkook sends you a confused look, but there’s a smile on his face.
“I heard that.”
You chuckle. “And I’m saying it again. Thank you.”
Jungkook shakes his head. “Alright. You’re welcome. Times two. And you’re not allowed to say it again.”
You both laugh at the exchange. The silence that follows after that is comfortable.
“You know, you still remember Changsub? My first boyfriend?” Jungkook nods at your words. “He asked me to be his girlfriend at a playground. Some old one in our hometown.” You pause for a while, recalling that memory. You laugh because it was just… so long ago. But the pictures are still so vivid in your head.
“Sweet. Too bad he’s an asshole, huh?” Jungkook comments, having known most of your relationship history.
“Yeah,” You shrug, laughing still. “But I, uhm, I remember a day after that– I had, like, this whole scenario in my head. I pictured a few years down the line, he’s on his knees and he’s showing me a ring asking me to be his wife on the very same playground. I thought it would be really sweet if he proposed to me at the same place.”
“Wow.” Jungkook muses, and you chuckle at the reaction.
“I know. It was crazy. I mean, why the hell was I thinking about getting married at that time? I was literally only sixteen and I think I had an AP assignment due the day after that. I was just so in my head.” You say, looking at Jungkook who has a smile of amusement on his face.
And then your laughter fades.
“I was so naive that time. But then I was also naive at twenty. And Jungkook…” You bite your bottom lip, feeling it quiver when you look into his eyes this time. “I’m afraid that I’m still naive at thirty.”
Jungkook calls your name softly, noticing the drop on your tone and the shift from playful to… melancholic.
You close your eyes and draw a deep breath.
“I like Mingyu. I really like him a lot,” And the declaration feels weird verbally announced. You’ve thought it for the past few weeks you’ve been with him – but you’ve both never said it to each other. Not yet. But saying it out loud now – it feels different. It feels real. And you’re so scared. “And we enjoy each other’s company a lot that I feel like he likes me just as much as I like him. You know, we kissed on the first date. I don’t usually kiss on the first date. But I like him so much that I did.”
You look at Jungkook sadly. You gauge the look on his face, but he just sits there with an unreadable expression on his face, though he listens. He always does. You’re not particularly looking for any response, anyway. And he just seems to know so well that right now, you just want to vent.
“It’s so embarrassing to say but I feel like he’s it, Kook.” You swallow the lump in your throat. “And I feel like… like the last time I felt this way about someone was with Eunwoo. And that was four years ago—” You let your head fall slightly. “And I’m so scared.” You don’t intend the crack in your voice when you say it.
“Hey,” Jungkook calls you again, turning his body towards you, reaching out to hold your arm.
“What if I’m wrong? Again?” You tell him.
It takes Jungkook a few seconds to answer.
“I think, __, that you’re a person with a big heart,” You scoff with a smile on your face at that. You get that a lot. But Jungkook insists, “I think you have so much love to give, you know? And I think… Mingyu’s a lucky guy if he gets to receive it.”
That makes your lips curl. Touched.
“You think so?”
Jungkook only nods.
“Why can’t you be nice to me like this all the time?” You crack a joke.
“I’m always nice to you,” Jungkook says in disbelief, obviously finding your words absurd. You only laugh but now Jungkook turns serious, and you fear you might have induced a genuine worry in him. “Am I not always nice to you?”
“You always tease me and shit in front of our friends but so incredibly sweet when we’re all alone.”
Jungkook stutters when he says, “Well… that’s my love language. Teasing you.”
You squint your eyes at him. “Awe, you love me?”
“Okay, fuck off.”
You burst into laughter when Jungkook rolls his eyes at you.
“Hey, swing me.”
You tell Jungkook, situating yourself more comfortably on the wooden platform attached to the chains.
“A dollar per minute.” He says, standing up from his own seat and placing himself behind you.
“I thought you hate capitalism? What is this?”
“This is forced labor.” Jungkook says with a groan that you think is a feigned exasperation, since you begin to feel movement right after it.
“You broke my hairdryer the other day. Consider this your compensation.” You look up at him to give him a smarmy smile.
Fom where you’re seated, you realize just how… big his presence is. It’s not the looming, ominous type, though – it’s quite the opposite. When Jungkook surrounds you, you find a bit of comfort in it – a huge one if you want to be honest to yourself.
“And I already bought you a new one. We’re even.” Jungkook squints his eyes at you.
You laugh.
“You’re gonna borrow and break it again.”
He visibly winces. “Touché.”
Jungkook swings you while you talk about your day, just like usual. He asks you about your laparoscopy that kept you from having lunch with the rest of your friends at the hospital earlier that day, about your new scrub cap, and you gossip a little about the new lab tech having a crush on the scrub nurse you both know.
For all his complaints earlier, Jungkook seemingly doesn’t seem to mind having swung you for the past ten minutes now. He’s relaxed and gentle with his movements, and his voice is quaint and soft as he talks to you.
But then you start to feel bad for him so you tell him to stop, standing up from the swing.
“Okay, your turn.”
Jungkook gives you a big grin.
“Nice.”
You chuckle at his enthusiasm when he sits on the swing chair this time around. But when you attempt a push, he barely moves, prompting him to laugh.
“What weak ass push was that?” He says incredulously, looking at you.
You jut your bottom lip out. “You’re heavy and I’m drunk.”
The second time you push him is more forceful but then Jungkook voices out a complaint after the third, fourth, and every single time you do it. You roll your eyes at his tantrums, but then suddenly, you think of a much better idea.
You push him off the swing with all your remaining strength even though your body feels like jelly from all the alcohol you consumed an hour ago.
“What the fuck, __?”
You burst out in boisterous laughter at Jungkook’s state, his hands and knees planted on the ground. He then sits on it, clapping his palms together to get rid of some dust that gathered on his skin.
Without thinking too much about it, you make quick steps over to his direction and situate yourself beside him.
Jungkook looks at you, confused, but you only give him a grin.
“Let’s lie on the ground.”
“What? No!” Jungkook immediately opposes it. As you expected.
You scrunch your face. “Oh! Look at me! I’m Jeon Jungkook and I’m a germaphobe and I’m afraid of dirt!” You say, intentionally making your voice a pitch higher.
Jungkook deadpans. “Pathogens can kill your cells’ metabolic machinery, so, yeah? I’m afraid of dirt.”
You roll your eyes at him and while he goes off about how they can also cause a toxic massive immune reaction, you push his chest forcefully which catches him off guard, prompting him to lay on the ground. Before he can say anything, you take his arm out to spread beside you and you use it to rest your head on.
Jungkook stops his rambling after that.
“See, shut up.” You say, backhanding him slightly on the chest. You fix your gaze at the skies.
“The sky is beautiful tonight. Worry about your pathogens next time.”
Jungkook chuckles, and you feel the vibration of his body as he does so, being so close to him.
As you peer up to look at him, you see him folding his other arm to lie his head on it.
You smile, going back to looking at the sky.
“This is like in The Notebook.” Jungkook says after a beat of silence.
“Right?” You grin. “And with the pathogens, too.” You tease.
Jungkook laughs, pinching your arm in his reach. “God, shut up about your pathogens.”
You chuckle at the irony.
“That’s me,” you point upwards, referring to a big twinkling light in the sky. Then, you move your finger towards the star beside it. “And then that’s you, ‘cause I’m a bigger star than you.”
You feel Jungkook look at you from his position. “You are so drunk.”
That causes you to giggle, clutching your stomach because you can’t stop laughing at pretty much everything tonight.
“I feel like I'm not anymore. My head just feels like it’s floating but no, definitely not drunk.”
“Whatever you say.” Jungkook says, chest vibrating from laughing at you.
“Hm. Race you to sleep, Jungkook.” You snuggle on his armpit. As you do, you smell a waft of your water lily springs body wash from Bath and Body Works. “Can you stop using my body wash?”
“What?” You can hear Jungkook say, but as he calls your name and more, his voice starts fading. “__? Hey, don’t sleep on me.”
You hum, eyes still closed.
“__, hey!” Jungkook grazes your arms. You can feel your head moving as Jungkook starts to sit, guiding your back to sit upright. He calls you again, gently tapping your cheek to wake you up.
The truth is, you’re really sleepy, but not so much that you can’t hear him anymore or move on your own.
Jungkook gives up trying to wake you up, though, convinced by your acting. Soon, he goes over in front of you, reaching for your arms and placing them around his neck.
“Just put your legs around me, yeah?” He whispers against your hair once you’re glued against his back.
You hum, intending it to sound like a mumble so Jungkook thinks you don’t actually understand.
Jungkook fixes your legs around him, standing up, bouncing a little to get you nice and snug in his back. You smile at the prospect of a piggyback ride.
“I know you’re awake, silly,” He says suddenly, his voice painted with amusement.
You stifle your laughter against his neck, breaking your supposed to be convincing act.
“Race you to the car, Kook.” you whisper into his ear.
Jungkook scoffs, but he doesn’t say anything more until you reach his car. He wears your seatbelt for you, though, and tells you to drink more water from his tumbler.
You fall asleep easily mid-drive.
In the morning, you wake up with a banging headache, your eyes catching the sight of a post-it note on your desk with one tab of Advil.
morning/afternoon stinky i made porridge before i left for my shift just heat it up again when you wake up ps: your medical bill from my personal care will be discussed later when i get back home. no friends discount allowed — your angelic friend, kookie
You chuckle at the (annoyingly elaborate) sketch of an angry bunny on the side.
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“Mingyu,” you call his attention. Mingyu turns to look at you. “This is a really nice place.”
He smiles at your remark. Mingyu moves his hand from your waist to your lower back as he leads you to the entrance door.
“I’m glad you think so. I’ve been wanting to bring you here for a while.”
When you both reach the door, Mingyu introduces himself to the butler. You let the two of them talk for a while, him confirming his reservation, your eyes roaming around the restaurant and taking in the classy interior.
“Please follow me, Mr. Kim and Ms. __,”
The butler gestures inside and you both follow behind him.
It’s another one of your date nights. While it isn’t unusual for you both to get fancy with dinners, you’ve gotten used to the casual dinners you’ve been having at his own place with take-outs and his impressive cooking.
But tonight is a little different. There’s a certain something in the air – especially when Mingyu especially asked you to dress a little more formally. He always has a suit on naturally with his line of work, but tonight he’s wearing a particularly shiny one. The tie is something you’ve never seen before, but maybe you just like to think that. You on the other hand settled for an indigo satin dress that hugs your figure like a glove and shows just enough skin. You’ve always thought you looked good in it.
And you think it’s perfect for when Mingyu asks something that will change the trajectory of your relationship for good.
Today marks the third month since you started seeing each other. You don’t know if he’s aware of it – but it’s been, indeed, whole three months. An monthsary some sort? Granted, there’s no official label to it, at least not yet. But with the fancy set-up and the way he cryptically replied to when you asked him what the whole thing was for tonight, you think he does know. And this is his idea of surprise.
Of course, you don’t let yourself get obsessed with the idea lest you end up with only mere assumptions.
“Thank you.” You both say to the butler as he leads you both to your table. He gives you the menu book and you take your sweet time to choose from the selection, giving the butler your orders after a few minutes.
When he leaves, Mingyu looks at you wearing his usual charming smile.
You don’t think you’ll ever tire of his face.
“This is really fancy,” You tell him, smiling.
“It’s sort of like special place,” Mingyu chuckles. “You know, Mr. Yang– the senior partner over at work– officially announced me as partner here.” He tells you, eyes looking into yours.
You feel your heart do a somersault at his gaze and the possibility of his words.
“Good steak?” You say, trying to act oblivious to the weight of his confession. You also don’t want to assume he’s saying what you think he’s saying…
“Yeah, yeah,” He nods his head, chuckling, then his laughter fades as he begins to look more serious when he continues, “So… it’s been three months since we started seeing each other.”
Your heart skips a bit when you listen to his words. You didn’t think what you were thinking earlier was true, but now that he’s brought it up, you deduce you might not be too far away.
“__,” Mingyu calls. You hum, leaning in closer to let him know you’re listening attentively. He gives you a coy smile, then his hand on the table moves over towards yours. You don’t fight your big smile off when he places it on top of yours, especially when you feel the warmth it radiates and how it looks like it could just easily enclose your own. “You said you wanted to take things slow, and I respect that. I just want you to know that this is – this thing between us – it’s serious for me.”
“I’m serious about us two.” You say immediately.
Mingyu chuckles, simpering when he looks at you again. “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”
“So?” You ask, waiting.
“I want to be your boyfriend. If you let me.” Mingyu says, clear and firm. “It’s just… I’m happy with our dates. And I just love hanging out with you. But I think I’ll be even happier if we go out together as boyfriend and girlfriend – officially – from now on.”
You nibble on your bottom lip; couldn���t contain the big smile you’ve been fighting against since earlier.
You’ve been expecting the question ever since you got here, but you’re quite surprised for your assumptions to be right.
“Okay.” You say coolly.
Mingyu furrows his brow. “Okay– as in…?”
“Okay, as in, I wanna be your girlfriend.”
His lips part. “Are you… for real?” You nod your head repeatedly, stifling a giggle as Mingyu begins to smile so widely. “Fuck.”
“Hey,” you lightheartedly scold.
Mingyu nods his head, still smiling. “I’m sorry, I’m just—” he cuts himself off with a chuckle. “You’re my girlfriend now.”
“Yeah.” You chuckle.
“I wish I can kiss you right now.”
You feel your cheeks heat up as you look around. There are too many people. But the hopeless romantic in you tells you it’s okay.
“Why won’t you?” You challenge him, and Mingyu arches a brow at that.
He looks like he’s giving in, but then he shakes his head. With a smile that borders on flirtatious, he leans closer to you and whispers, “Later.”
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Mingyu’s sweet promise at the restaurant ends up with you straddling his lap on the driver’s seat, your dress riding over your thighs and the thin straps falling off your shoulder.
"Fuck," Mingyu breathes in your ear, hands full of your ass while you continue to grind against the bulging crotch of his slacks.
You're not any better, panting on the crook of his neck as he encourages you to move on top of him. You feel the wet kisses he bestows across the column of your neck, moaning at the delicious friction from one particular thrust of his hips.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this, in your defense. Your dinner ended on a really good note and Mingyu was just supposed to lean in for one sweet kiss once you were situated in his car.
But then you swiped your tongue over his lips and Mingyu threw away his gentlemanly act for the night, granting you back with a kiss that had more fervor in it. Forceful in a way that says he wants you.
And the feeling’s more than mutual.
His coat’s long gone now, stashed away on his back seat, and you’ve already undone the top three buttons of his dress shirt. Mingyu squeezes your boob over the thin material of your dress, prompting you to let out a low moan.
“Why—” Mingyu cuts himself off to kiss your lips one more time.
“Why don’t we go to your place?”
You don’t register his words the first time, too drunk from the sensation of his touch over your body.
“Yeah?” You mindlessly say, eyes shut as Mingyu peppers kisses to your jaw down to your neck once again.
“You’ve never invited me to your place.”
At that, your eyes open and you still on top of him.
“What?”
Mingyu looks up, and you’re about to be distracted by his messy hair and his swollen lips but then he says, “We’ve never gone to your place before.”
“Oh.”
He’s quick to gauge your reaction. Cupping your jaw, he plants a kiss to the side of your lips. “I’m not insisting if you don’t want to.”
“N-no, I want to,” is your immediate response. “It’s just…” you trail off, thinking about how to approach the subject.
Mingyu hums, waiting for your next words, rubbing his thumb over your cheek. It helps you regulate your nervousness at the sudden mention of your place.
“I have a roommate.”
There you let it out.
Somehow in the past three months you’ve been dating, you never mentioned that you’re living with Jungkook. The subject just never came up – until now, that is – and you didn’t really feel the need to tell him when he never asked in the first place.
But deep inside, you’re a bit hesitant to tell him about it. Sure, Jungkook’s his friend, and Mingyu did say they were close and knew each other well, so it shouldn’t be a problem for him that you’re residing with his close friend – but that’s exactly what makes the whole thing weird. It’s one thing as a woman to live with a man in one place, and it’s another if that man is a friend of your – well, now boyfriend.
And you know to yourself that you and Jungkook are purely platonic so there should be absolutely nothing to be worried about. It’s not even that you don’t trust Mingyu to understand – it’s just that it’s not as easy to tell him straight up. Not when you’re just starting a relationship right now with an official label to it – not when you’re finally in a serious relationship after four whole years of looking and waiting.
You don’t want to ruin it. Not right now.
“Oh, okay.” Mingyu nods at your confession, understanding. “Is it why…?”
You nod your head, already getting what he means. Licking your lips, you look anywhere but his eyes. Instead, you focus your gaze on the exposed upper part of his chest and let your fingers toy with his collar. Mingyu lets you.
“But… roommate’s away for the night.” You tell him. And it’s true. Jungkook told you he has a date tonight and that usually means he won’t be going home.
And you want Mingyu so bad it’s not even funny anymore.
That puts a smile on your boyfriend’s face.
“She is, huh?”
Your heart skips a bit, and you give him a smile you hope he doesn’t recognize as fake.
Somehow, you don’t bother to correct him even though Jungkook – your very roommate – is most definitely not a she.
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“And here goes my bedroom,” You say as you open your door, letting Mingyu in. You’re not really worried about its state because thank god you cleaned up before leaving for your date tonight. Jungkook’s the cleaner one though, and that’s an advantage because he’s kind of obsessed with cleaning the whole apartment and not just his room when he has the time. It’s exactly why Mingyu pays you a compliment on the neatness of the place.
“Cute,” he muses, looking at the Sanrio plushies on your nightstand.
“Yeah.” You nod, feeling a little shy. Mingyu’s place is the definition of bachelor – his bedroom’s literally out of an Architectural Digest page. And while you’re proud of your Sanrio plushie collection – they’re your childhood gifts and you’ve collected them until college and they were expensive as hell – you can’t help but think that maybe you’re coming off as childish right now. You wish you could’ve hidden them or something…
You hope Mingyu doesn’t think too much about it.
“I like the room,” Mingyu says, looking at you who’s sitting on the edge of your bed. “It feels very… you.”
“Really?” You chuckle. “I mean, I’d hope so. I’ve been here for two years.”
Mingyu chuckles, following you to the bed. You feel the mattress sinking in when he sits beside you.
“I wanted to give you something at the restaurant earlier, but I kinda chickened out,” He says.
You arch your brow. “What is it?”
You watch as Mingyu takes something out of his pocket, your heart skipping a few beats when it turns out to be a jewelry box. Mingyu looks at you and smiles, hands slowly opening the velvet box, and your lips part when it reveals a dainty silver necklace with a small drop diamond pendant.
“Wow.” You utter, eyes blinking repeatedly, not knowing how to react.
“Well…?” Mingyu says, gauging your reaction.
“You’re giving that to me?” You ask in pure disbelief. He only nods. “That’s really– it’s really pretty.”
“I thought about you when I picked it up. It made sense.” He says smoothly, and you giggle at his words.
God, you like him so much.
“I honestly don’t know what to say,” You chuckle, cupping your face with your hands as if it could make the blood go away from your cheeks. “Thank you.”
“I’d love to wear it on you.” Mingyu smiles.
“Of course.”
He takes out the necklace from the box and asks you to turn around for a bit. You do so, helping him put your hair over one shoulder. You can feel him scooting closer to your back, his breathing on your nape, and the way he slowly caresses your shoulder first before his arms go around your neck to lock the necklace around your nape.
The cold of the material hits your skin, just on time when you feel Mingyu planting a kiss on your clavicle.
“It’s really pretty.” You say in awe, touching the pendant.
“Hm,” Mingyu continues to pepper your skin with small kisses. “You’re beautiful.” You turn to look at him, smiling. He mirrors that and cups your jaw to give you a peck on the lips. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful.”
You giggle when he squeezes your waist.
“Thank you.” you say in between your laughter. You hold his arms and stand up from the bed to place yourself in front of him. Mingyu looks up at you with one brow raised, but he’s quick to manspread when you begin to straddle his lap. As you situate yourself on top of him, you wrap your arms around his neck and let him run his hands across your body when you do so. “I really appreciate the necklace.”
“Yeah?” Mingyu whispers against your lips.
You hum, trailing your fingers down his collar then start to unbutton his shirt. When you get the few undone, you look Mingyu into his eyes and he meets your lips that crash into his in a few seconds.
You suppose it’s not exactly surprising that the kiss turns heated way too quickly. After all, you were both humping each other in his car earlier.
Sighing into the kiss, you tug at his hair, and it prompts his hands to squeeze your ass a little too tight. Mingyu breaks the kiss and there’s a barely noticeable string of saliva when your lips move away from each other. He trails kisses from your jaw down to the base of your neck, taking the straps of your dress down, hands beginning to rub your bare arms.
“So beautiful,” Mingyu sighs, lips travelling back to your own. He prods his tongue in your mouth that you gladly open for him. You let out a moan from the sensation of his tongue against yours, clutching his shoulders so hard you're sure you're gonna imprint your nails on his skin despite the shirt he still has on.
"Mingyu," you whisper, mouth ajar and gaping uselessly against his hair as his mouth leaves yours eventually to go down to your cleavage. His wandering fingers go around your back to fumble with the ribbons that are holding the dress, and you’re quick to help him tug it down completely until your chest is out for his full viewing.
Mingyu hisses at the lack of bra – except the nipple tapes – when the top of the dress comes off. He stops and stares, then takes a long and deep breath, as if the sight of your breasts intoxicated him; sighing as if he's long wished to see you like this.
"Fuck, sweetheart, you're so hot." He cups the swell of your chest in his two large palms, fondling them as you continue rolling your pelvis against his straining crotch area. He grazes the silicon material covering your nipples, looks up at you as if to ask.
“Y-yeah,” you sigh out, knowing what he meant with the look.
Taking them off gently, Mingyu earns a moan from you, the sound getting a bit louder when he puts one of the two peaks in his mouth, and the sight is nothing short of erotic.
It elicits a sharp breath from you, hands flying to his soft and brunette locks. You almost feel bad thinking that you've been grabbing at them since earlier.
But you have more important things to mind than attending to Mingyu’s silky and healthy hair.
You seek for his lips which he gives you almost automatically when he notices you asking for it, the two of you meeting in a hungry kiss, your nails on one hand clawing at his back as you cup his jaw in the other. But his hands don't leave your breasts, palming them roughly but just right; squeezing so hard all the while tugging at your nipples.
For a moment, you take a halt, catching your breath and look at him with your hooded eyes. You kiss the corner of his mouth. "Take your shirt off."
He does as you say so, and you help him unbutton the entirety of his dress shirt to get the thing off him faster. Mingyu lets go of your boobs but quickly holds them as soon as his shirt is off. This time he flicks at both your nipples, and you can’t help but bite at his neck. The pleasure’s too much and you can feel yourself dripping down your thong, the sticky feeling of it making you squirm on his lap.
As if Mingyu has read your mind, he grips your waist and sets you down on the bed. He hovers over you, fingers idly exploring under the skirt of your dress until he finds the band of your panties.
You groan when you feel the cold brush of air on your bare thighs, suddenly feeling impatient. "Mingyu,"
“You want me to eat you out?” He whispers, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.
You almost cry at his question.
“Yes,”
Mingyu drags his fingers on your clothed core, groaning when he feels how soiled your thong is. "You're so fucking wet, sweetheart. Look at you," he sighs, hands leaving your pussy as he leans back and palms the strain of his pants. Your toes curl at the sight, uneven breaths puffing from your lips. "Look so sweet under me."  
And you're also a mess under him, writhing and completely getting lightheaded from his actions.
You let out a mewl when he pushes up the skirt of your dress to your hips, dragging down your underwear to your thighs.
Lifting your butt off the mattress, you help him get it off of you completely and you don't miss the way the flimsy thong sticks to your pussy before he takes it off you entirely. Mingyu seems to notice as well, judging from the way he hissed under his breath.
Your pussy is slick and sloppy, wet and dripping for him.
"So fucking pretty for me, god, I can’t believe I get to have you like this," he whispers against your throbbing heat, leaving a small kiss on your clit.
You arch your back when he uses his finger to run it through your slit, adding another one to spread your walls. Mingyu groans at the juices that stick to his digits.
As he adjusts himself on the mattress, hands gripping the back of your knees, you push them up until you're bended in almost half. You hold up your own legs, getting whiplashed when he licks a long, firm and deep stripe over you, making your eyes roll from the back of your head, breath hitching as you keep yourself steady in your own hold.
"Oh my god – Mingyu!–"
He starts slow, kissing around your labia, the tip of his tongue teasing your clit. Your head falls from the mountain of pillows under you, suddenly feeling frustrated.
"S-stop teasing me. Please, Mingyu,"
Ending your misery, he spreads your thighs, puckers his lips and dusts a few pecks over your bare heat and dives in for it seconds later with too much fervor. He savors every drop that oozes out from your hole, licking and lapping until you feel his tongue inside you. Mingyu could be spelling out his name for all it matters, but you really couldn't give a fuck.
"Oh, fuuuuck–" you groan, trying so hard to keep yourself steady. "S-so good,"
He hums in your pussy, and you don't help the way one of your legs drop to the mattress, the other one hooking on his shoulder. It makes you grab for his hair, pushing his head down and thrashing underneath his face.
It felt like minutes passed and you're almost crying by how good it all feels, his tongue doing wonders in the walls of your heat.
Soon, tears start to well in your eyes because of the pleasure, drawn out moans and heavy breaths filling the room. You couldn’t care less about the volume. Right now, you just want to cum.
"Your fingers, Mingyu,” You sigh out, and before you could even prepare yourself, he's inserting his middle finger inside you, pushing it in until it's knuckle-deep. "Oh god!"
“Yeah?”
He starts at an average pace until he adds another finger in your entrance, this time picking up his speed – and it makes you drip everywhere.
When he settles on scissoring his fingers inside you, moving at an abnormal pace that have you gasping under him, your body shake and your toes curl on the sheets. Mingyu swoops down to kiss your pussy again, two digits being repeatedly swallowed by your warm hole, slurping every juice that comes out of it. As he feels you tremble, the precedence of you nearing your climax, he takes his thumb to your clit.
"Oh, fuck, fuck," your pant, "I'm coming–fuck–“
Mingyu removes his fingers from you, exchanging them with his tongue instead and you cry out while he continues to rub your clit vigorously.
And when you arch your back higher this time, you spasm around his fingers, moaning uncontrollably.
“That’s it, sweetheart, that’s it,” Mingyu whispers, pecking your heat a few more times to calm you down from your high. After a few moments, he removes your thigh from his shoulder, quickly coming up to kiss you on the mouth.
You taste yourself on his tongue but you couldn’t pay much attention to it when you feel his dick against your thigh. Closing your eyes, you let exhaustion wash over you.
Mingyu lets you stay still, and when you open your eyes again, you see him staring at you with a warm smile dancing across his lips. Your heart skips a beat, could no longer feel it but hear it instead, and you bite your lip, pushing his chest away slightly in an attempt to get on top of him.
“Let me suck your cock.” You say, but Mingyu shakes his head, firm on his place: on top of you.
“Let’s do that next time. Tonight, I have to fuck you well into the next day.”
And he does.
You didn't cum again – you usually don't from penetrative sex – and your first orgasm exhausted you way too much to let yourself go the second time. Mingyu didn't mind, telling you it was fine when you gave him an apology about it.
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You wake up panicking at the thought that you’re going to be late for work.
Scrambling to sit on your bed, you take your alarm clock in your hands, letting out a dramatic “Thank god” when you see it read as 5:06am. Your alarm goes off at 5:30 as your weekday shift starts at seven.
Which means it’s still early. And you’re not going to be late for work like you feared.
You remember last night’s events though, and your eyes quickly go over to the other side of your bed.
Mingyu’s not in it – but it feels warm. An indication of the fact that he stayed the night over after what you did. You also deduced that he must’ve only gotten out a few minutes before you woke up.
Thinking he’s outside your room, you begin to stand up – groaning the way your thighs ache a bit as you do so. You’re only dressed in your panties and camisole, and you thought about going out in them – but then it made you feel a little weird. Okay, sure, Mingyu’s already seen everything there is to see – you had sex last night – but being naked in a non-sexual fashion in front of someone is kind of a little different, so you opt on putting on a pair of short shorts.
As you head towards your door, fingers ready to twist the knob, you’re surprised to see Mingyu meeting you halfway.
“Hey—”
“Why the hell is Jungkook here?”
Your smile drops and you look at him in confusion.
Mingyu wears an expression you’ve never seen him in before. He’s pissed. Eyebrows furrowed, gaze not soft like it usually is when it comes to you, and above all… his tone borders on accusatory.
“Why is he in the living room saying he’s your roommate?” Mingyu asks once again when you don’t say anything.
“I—” but you’re rendered speechless, frozen in your position. Your mouth moves but nothing comes out. Your brain is a jumble of thoughts and all you can think about is Mingyu seemingly getting mad at you.
“__?” A voice that’s absolutely familiar speaks up. You hear Jungkook’s steps getting closer to your door when he finally shows himself to you. “What’s Mingyu doing here? And why doesn’t he know we live together?”
Mingyu forces himself inside your bedroom and bumps into you a bit as he faces you with a venomous tone. “I’m going.” He declares, grabbing his shirt from your desk chair and putting on his belt.
“Mingyu, it’s not—”
“Save it, __.” He cuts you off before you can finish your sentence, hastily buttoning up his dress shirt.
Jungkook frowns and butts in. “Mingyu, let her talk. I told you earlier, we’re roommates—”
“Jeon,” You turn to look at him, almost spitting out his name. “Not now.”
You see Jungkook visibly recoiling at that. But you’re too concerned over Mingyu already on his way out the door, ready to leave.
“Mingyu, just hear me out.” You say, looking at him sincerely.
“I don’t wanna hear it. Not right now.” Mingyu tells you with a cold look paired with a cold tone. You deflate, taken aback at how nothing on his face screams like he cares about you. He glances at his watch. “I have to go to work.”
He heads towards your apartment door and you follow him there, hoping to change his mind about hearing you out.
“I know what you’re thinking right now, and it’s not that, Gyu.” You tell him once again, following him outside your unit.
Mingyu stands there for a while. Then, he sighs, putting his thumb over his temple. He heaves out a breath, looking into your eyes as he says, “I just don’t want to talk about it right now, okay? Let’s just… let things cool down for a bit.”
You swallow the lump in your throat. “How do you mean?”
“I’m flying to Chicago this afternoon but I’ll be back in the evening. I’ll call you later after work.” He says, and now his face doesn’t look so devoid of emotions like how it was earlier.
But you worry about his words.
“You’re flying to another state.” You reiterate, just so you know you heard him right.
“It’s just for a few hours, sweetheart,” The petname soothes you a little but then he continues to add, “Look, I’m not sure of how I feel about… Jungkook being your roommate. You didn’t tell me about it– just imagine my surprise when I saw him after I went out of your room. It’s not a nice feeling to get lied to,” He says, and you feel an arrow shooting straight to your heart at that. You blink your eyes, feeling like there are tears forming on the sides. Mingyu seems to notice that as he steps closer to you and rubs your arm. “We’ll talk later, __. Just not now. Give me time to process this.”
You give him a weak smile.
Mingyu cups your cheek, and you lean towards his touch. Rubbing a thumb over your skin, he leans down to kiss your lips.
When he breaks away after a quick moment, he tells you, “Later, hm? I promise.” You nod. Mingyu gives you a smile. “And thank you for last night.”
That erases your worry. Not all, but some of it.
“Thank you too.”
“Alright, I’m going, okay?” Mingyu lets go of your face and you look at him as he turns around after you bid your goodbye.
You watch his retreating back in the hallway from your position, nibbling on your bottom lip trying to process the turn of events – and it’s only five fucking am still.
When you enter your apartment again, you see Jungkook sitting on the couch of your living room. And he looks just as pissed when your gaze falls to him.
“What the hell was that?” He welcomes you with.
“What the hell is this?” You point back at him. “You told me you weren’t coming home.”
“Yeah, but I have work – which we both go to at the same time, by the way. Apparently, you’re bringing boys now to this goddamn place.”
You do a double take at his tone.
“What the fuck do you mean by that?” You say, voicing starting to pick up volume. You feel irritation bubbling up inside you as Jungkook stands up from the couch and turns his back to you, ignoring your question as he heads to the direction of the kitchen.
“I said we’re both gonna be late for work.”
You follow his steps. “No, you said I’m “bringing boys here”, what do you mean by that?” You grab his arm and that’s effective enough to make him turn around and look at you. But he avoids eye contact. “Don’t turn your back to me when I’m talking to you, Jungkook.”
“I’m so sorry then, I’ll make sure to look into your eyes when I say every word that comes out of my mouth from now on.” He sarcastically says, and your annoyance grows.
“Watch your goddamn tone.”
Jungkook scoffs. “You’re the one to talk about watching tones when you literally just told me to shut up in front of your boyfriend?”
Your frown instantly. So you were right to think that moved him a little. But you tell him your confusion, “Where the hell did you get that? I didn’t tell you to shut up.”
“Yeah, you just told me “not now” like I’m a child trying to insert himself in mommy and daddy’s little argument. You might as well just have told me to shut the fuck up.”
The way he phrased your argument with Mingyu “little” rubs you off the wrong way.
“Oh, I am so sorry,” you sarcastically say. “Did getting told to shut up by a woman in front of another man hurt your big macho man ego?” 
“You’re making it about another thing.” Jungkook rolls his eyes, opening the refrigerator and taking out a loaf of bread.
“You think I forgot about your little “bringing boys here” comment?” You point out, but Jungkook decides now is the time to be an asshole and starts acting nonchalant instead, putting jam all over his bread. But you see the tick in his jaw, the tongue prodding against his mouth. He’s just as pissed as you are right now.
“And you sure as hell did. I don’t know what to tell you.”
You seethe. “Fuck you. I don’t bring “boys” here. Mingyu’s my boyfriend,” You say, and to be petty, you add, “As if you’ve never ever brought girls here before?”
Jungkook looks at you instantly. “Don’t you dare pin that on me. That was in the very first week that we lived together, mind you. But you told me how uncomfortable it made you feel and I thought about boundaries since then and never did it again. Why do you think I come over at their place instead of just hanging out here, huh, __? Even when we didn’t verbally agree on not having sex around this place, I thought it would be a goddamn principle. Heck,” He looks somewhere and scoffs, “Mingyu didn’t even know I’m your roommate. What did you tell him?”
You open your mouth to make a rebuttal, but nothing comes.
Because you realize in the middle of his outburst that… he’s right.
The first time that you saw a woman coming out of his own room and Jungkook noticing your discomfort about it, he just stopped doing his… thing in the apartment. It wasn’t a verbal agreement, as per his words, but he’s right. It should have been a principle.
In the past two years you lived with each other – that was the only time he ever did it. It became an unspoken rule: don’t bring your hook-ups here. But you never really had to worry about that unspoken rule because you didn’t do one-night-stands often, and when you did hook up with people over the past two years, it was rare so it was easy to do it in their place.
It has become a norm for you that you don’t see other people here anymore except for your friends when they invite themselves over – but you aren’t aware that Jungkook’s apparently making an active choice to specifically not hook up in here this whole time.
Coupled with the fact that you didn’t tell Mingyu about him being your roommate and him being caught up with your argument earlier – you feel a sense of guilt. A huge one at that.
But the stubborn part in you thinks that Mingyu’s different. He’s not a mere hook-up. He’s your boyfriend now! Couldn’t that be an exemption to the rule that’s unspoken in the first place?
“I…” you trail off, scolding yourself internally for not forming a coherent thought faster than you’d like.
When you don’t follow it up with anything, Jungkook takes his plate with him, turning on his heels away from you.
“See you at work.” He says, but it’s sarcastic and clipped.
Jungkook leaves one piece of bread for you though – just like he always does. And you take that as a sign that he’s not all that mad at you.
… Maybe?
You stand there in the middle of your kitchen island like some stupid stoned individual, going over the things that happened for the past – what – twenty minutes? You don’t even fucking know. Your wall clock in the living room had run out of battery, and your brain is too occupied with messy thoughts scattered all around you can feel a headache coming.
One thing’s for sure, though: you’re in the wrong. With Mingyu and with Jungkook. And you need to make it right somehow.
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PART TWO | PART THREE
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starzify · 1 month ago
Text
MISSING YOU - dean winchester
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PAIRING dean winchester x fem!reader
WARNINGS smut 18+
MASTERLIST
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↓ MDNI ↓
Dean can’t keep his mind off you. You’re like a magnet to him—no matter what you do, you pull him in. You can bet that if his gaze isn't on you, then something else is, whether it be his arm around your shoulders or a hand on your waist.
You’ve entranced him in a way that makes him need you like water—as if the very breath from his lungs would be ripped away from him if he's apart from you. His eyes are always searching for you- that is if you aren’t already by his side. yes, he's a teensy bit obsessed, but it’s all within reason.
With that being said, loving you makes his hunting trips so unbearably hard. He can barely handle leaving the house every morning, how is he supposed to handle multiple days away?
He’ll get back to his temporary home after a long day, all worked up and just needing you. lo and behold, you aren't there.
Despite the distance, he can't help but wonder what you might be doing. are you alone? Are your showering? Have you eaten? Is your mind plagued with thoughts of him like his is with you? His hands drag over his face in a poor attempt to derail his train of thought, but the heat crawling up his body grows too hard to ignore. Without even knowing, he's thought himself into a corner. he doesn't want to bother you this late, but he has to hear your voice.
Picking up his phone as he lays in bed, Dean dials your number. "Angel..." he muses as he hears the line pick up.
"Hi, baby," you groan out—it might be late, but you're still happy to hear from your boy. "Long day? i miss you."
Dear God. Just hearing your voice makes his pants grow impossibly tight. "Were you sleeping? I didn't mean to wake you," he hums, his brows knitting in a frown.
“Yeah," you yawn and stretch your limbs out over your far too empty bed, "But it's alright, i miss you too much to be mad." You giggle. “What’s my handsome Dean doing right now?"
He exhales at your words. "oh, you know..." a blush creeps up his cheeks as he looks around the empty room, "missing you," he pauses, thinks, and proceeds. "Missing the way you feel," he trails off, his free hand running over his growing tent. He continues through shallow breaths as he speaks mindlessly into the phone. "i miss your kisses," he undoes the zipper of his pants as he pulls the waistband down, "i miss your hands," he grabs his length as it hardens under his fingers, wishing they were your own, "i miss your mouth," his hips stutter as he spreads the leaking precum over his tip, "fuck—i miss your pussy..."
He continues his work as he babbles into your ear, a desperate effort to turn you on and have you somehow magically appear next to him so he could fuck himself dumb into you. His pupils dilate and a low groan erupts from his chest as he hears your soft mewls beginning to fall from the speaker. He’s fucking his fist, trying his best to hold back his moans as deeps groans slip out here and there.
He loves you so much. He’d quit his stupid job if it meant he could stay buried within your cunt forever. "Wanna touch you so bad... just wanna be inside you all the time," he whispers out, his thrusts becoming frantic and rushed as he chases his high. "So perfect, i never wanna be away from you," he pictures you underneath him, legs wrapped around his torso as he pounds relentlessly into your core. "Fuck—you miss me angel? You miss me fucking you full? Gonna let me come home and cum inside you?"
With whatever strength you have left from your own personal pleasure, you hum through the phone. That’s all it takes for his release to come rushing through him, roped of white cum staining his tensed abs. You hear him panting through the phone.
"I’ll be home soon, angel," he says sweetly, "You better keep your word." you whisper.
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A/N: he’s so yummy
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ikinremu · 1 month ago
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MILE HIGH
Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader
! smut warning!
a/n: i just wanna say thank u all so much for the love on my last hotch fic i’m absolutely blown away!! hope you enjoy this just as much <3
tags: p in v, unprotected sex, praise, public place
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For once, you found yourself alone with the one person you wished to be with. Yourself and Aaron happened to be making your way over a little later than the rest of the team and you had to admit, as dearly as you loved them, it was nice to have some quiet on the jet. It was an entirely different atmosphere. Especially being confined with your boss - and boyfriend - not that anyone was aware of that aspect.
“Thanks, Garcia.” Hotch spoke firmly into his mobile, soon sliding it back into the pocket of his suit-pants.
He cleared his throat, eyes flickering back over the table and honing in on you. Focusing really shouldn’t have been so difficult, but it was, and you had no doubt his mind was whirring with the exact same image as yours.
You ran your eyes over him, unable to pull your gaze elsewhere despite your efforts.
“Don’t look at me like that.” Aaron exhaled, eyes narrowing ever so slightly.
You hadn’t realised you were looking at him any particular way, if anything you were simply.. admiring.
“Like what?”
Once more, he let out a deep exhale, peering back at you for a few quiet moments before he parted his lips to respond, “We’re at work, honey.”
The nickname had you clenching your thighs beneath the table, pressed tight and desperate for friction.
“At work, by ourselves.” You chirped back at an instant, eyes wandering over the empty jet as it whirred.
His jaw visibly tightened, ticking ever so slightly as he drank in your words. You could read him well, though not quite perfectly, but you were certain his mind was fogged with the very same conflict as yours, “And we’re on a plane.”
You offered a gentle shrug, “I don’t care.”
His jaw ticked once more, eyes narrowing for a split second as he gazed at you over the table before slipping a deep exhale.
“Fuck it, neither do I.” He breathed, “Come here.”
You didn’t hesitate for a mere second, finding yourself stood before him almost instantly as his hands reached for your hips, pulling you down onto his lap. Your body was snug between Aaron’s torso and the table, chests pressing against eachother.
Suddenly, his lips captured your own in a warm, hungry embrace. His hands squeezed at your backside possessively, running quickly down the back of your pencil skirt as you writhed breathlessly on his lap.
A low, hoarse groan seeped from Hotch’s mouth and into your own as he felt you buck atop his lap, the stiffness in his trousers taunting you through your skirt.
Eager to feel the heat of your skin against his own, he pushed the material up your thighs, sliding it slowly over your ass as his fingers trailed down the lace of your underwear.
“So pretty.” He mused quietly, mumbling against your lips as he brought his mouth down your neck, the warmth of his breath tickling your skin. Aaron’s hand wedged tightly between the parting of your thighs, sliding his fingertips against the fabric of your sodden panties, “You’re soaking.”
Your breathing grew heavy as his words brushed under your ear, heat brewing further and further between your legs as he moved his digits so tauntingly against you.
“That needy for me, hm?” A low, amused chuckle seeped from Aaron’s lips as his open mouth pressed hungrily to your lower-neck.
Unable to deny, you returned with a soft nod, feeling his fingertips creep under the band of your underwear. He hooked the gentle fabric on his finger, gliding it down your thighs with ease.
“My poor girl.” He cooed, lips painted with a satisfied smirk, switching the focus of his touch to the zipper of his pants. He wasted zero time in tugging at the metal latch to reveal the growing stiffness in his boxers, “Think this’ll help you focus, honey?”
With a gentle exhale, your gaze fell to Hotch’s length as he freed himself from his underwear. “Yes.”
Purposefully slowly, he traced the head of his cock with the pad of his thumb, your eyes glued to the sight with no intention of breaking.
“Lift your hips.” He commanded, voice stern as always, though laced with an underlying tenderness. One palm surrounded his shaft loosely, providing that extra sense of friction while he guided your hips with the opposing hand.
Immediately, you complied, raising your hips upward a little as you anticipated what was to follow. He trailed his thumb back and forth over your exposed hips, sure to taunt with his touch. Adjusting himself between your thighs, Aaron pressed his tip to your sopping cunt, eyes flitting back up to meet yours.
With a strained moan, you sank your body down onto his own, drawing a rather hoarse groan from his mouth as your warmth surrounded his cock.
“Fuck..” You murmured, teeth sinking into your bottom lip with nothing but ecstasy, revealing in the way he filled you so flawlessly.
You clutched at his shoulders firmly as his length reached deep within your cunt, digging your fingertips against his suit jacket.
“I know, sweetheart.” Hotch soothed, suddenly bucking his hips up against your own, both hands gripping possessively at your backside, “So deep, huh?”
He punctuated the words with a rough curse beneath his breath, bucking up against you once again. His grip grew tighter on your skin as he began to pull you down on his cock in time with his thrusts.
“Shit, honey, there you go. Just like that.” He praised, sliding a single hand toward your neck, cradling it against the heat of his skin.
Aaron buried his flushed face into the crook of your neck, sucking hungrily at the skin as it darkened between his lips.
“Fuck, Aaron..” The words fell amidst a heavy breath, practically whining as he thrust up inside you, your bodies smacking together with each hit.
Both large, callous hands slid to the small of your back, lifting you suddenly and placing you atop the table you’d been tightly pressed against. You let out a soft, breathy whimper as he planted you down, his cock still buried deep inside your cunt as he stood before you, pulling his hips back slowly and landing a particularly deep thrust inside you once more.
Abruptly, he took ahold of your face in his hand, tilting your chin to meet his eyeline.
“Eyes on me, honey.” Aaron groaned, voice gravelly as his hips smacked against you, “Show me that pretty face when I’m inside you.”
His words sent a swarm of butterflies straight to your stomach, skin flushed with an overflowing sense of heat as he filled you repeatedly, hips striking back and forth in a manner that had your thighs beginning to tremble.
“That’s my good girl.” He affirmed, pumping his cock in and out of your warm, drenched pussy. As before, his lips ghosted by your neck, mouth lingering beside your ear, “Take me so well.”
“Fuck- Yes!” You moaned, wishing you had the ability to keep yourself even the slightest bit quieter, “More..”
Aaron chuckled in response to your broken plea, cocking a single, tame brow as his eyes gazed down at your taunted expression, “You want it harder? Faster?”
You nodded simply, eyelids fluttering together for a few short moments, struggling to keep your eyes from drifting back. The wooden table began to rattle beneath your thighs as he picked up his pace, gripping tightly at your skin as he moved against you.
You clenched desperately, composure faltering as you squeezed at him, nearing a release.
All of a sudden, he leant your body back entirely, laying you back atop the sleek wood. A small gasp escaped your throat as he guided you, never once relenting in his pace.
With one hand alone, Hotch seized both of your wrists, planting them firmly above your head as he squeezed rather possessively. His length struck deep as he leant down over you, mouth lingering right beside yours.
“Keep your hands there.” He uttered against your lips before sealing the command with a long, tender kiss.
You nodded beneath his body, feeling a release begin to approach inside you.
“Shit, Aaron, I’m close-“ You whispered, chest heaving helplessly beneath the fastenings of your blouse.
“I know, honey, I know.” He practically groaned against your skin, a hot fog of breath stroking your flushed skin as he gave your wrists a small squeeze.
You clenched around him as his tip struck your g-spot in flawless repetition, the coil in your stomach winding tighter and tighter with each passing moment. Suddenly, it snapped entirely, and your release overcame your body.
Hotch slipped a low, broken groan as you squeezed him between the warmth of your thighs, “Fuck,” His eyelids squeezed shut for a moment as the table shook ever so slightly beneath the rocking of his hips, “Make a mess on my cock sweetheart, there you go.”
His encouragement was all you needed, the sound of his voice fuelling your arousal as he fucked you through your orgasm, mumbling inaudibly under your breath.
His cock began to twitch between your walls, nearing his own release as he slid out of you with a gruff sound, offering his length another few pumps in his fist as you observed with heavy breathing.
“Fuck.” He repeated to himself as he came undone, coating your exposed thighs with his release, struggling to regain his breath as he groaned.
After a moment a satisfied smile cracked over his lips, and he seized you by the waist, hauling your weakened body close to his, pressing his lips to yours once more - though far softer this time, “You’re going to be the death of me, honey.”
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Thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed! Your support means the world to me! I’m working through a lot of requests so thank you for your patience if you’ve sent one in <3
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helluvapoison · 11 months ago
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Make Me Weak
˚✧₊⁎ The Vees ⁎⁺˳✧༚
warnings: violence
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
˚✧₊⁎ Velvette ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• Everything you are she should abhor– and would if it was anyone else— so she doesn’t pretend to understand how you weave into her life so easily. That time is instead spent wondering how the fuck she’s survived both her hellish lives without you
• Velvette always felt she was owed the praise and compliments she got. Receiving them from you was an entirely different type of high to ride. Your candied tone and sickeningly sweet words clung to her like smoke and had her itching for more
• You massage her hands so she has no choice but to surrender her phone, only then does she realize how cramped they’ve become. You sit in her workshop during Hell Week, sending a mellowing wave that relaxes her chaos in the form of a simple thumbs up. You make up for not being on the receiving end of her camera by setting up aesthetic dates for her to capture instead
• Velvette captures your chin, “You put up with a lotta my shit, Dollface. I’m not great at sharing credit, but I couldn’t have done this without you.”
“But I didn’t do anything?”
“You’re my muse, baby. Gimme the word and I can have you on a billboard tonight. Fuck Joanne, the raggetty bitch, I’ll bump her and have you up there for all of Hell to see!”
Your smile falters to a grimace, your eyes telling her what she already knows. Vel doesn’t get why you hate the limelight. This conversation always ends one way and if she hears you say one bad thing about yourself, she’ll tear out her hair. With a sigh, she tucks you back under her arm and kisses the crown of your head
“Fine. I didn’t wanna share you anyways.”
Your light laugh makes her smile again
˚✧₊⁎ Valentino ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• Val does everything in his power not to allow you to witness one of his volatile moments. He has a very specific image of you in his mind and to a looser extent, you do too. You’re not prim or naive that you don’t know what he does, but his violent tendencies are something else to behold. You’re too sweet, too pure to completely join his world
• It’s never bothered him before, seeing that look on someone’s face. The one where their eyes go wide in horror because they know exactly what comes next but there’s no telling what would happen if the pedestal Val put you on crumbled because you saw him grabbing a whore by the neck and using them as an ashtray
• Truly, no indulgence he’s ever sampled has come close to taking the edge off him like one of your hugs. Softer than angel wings and more intoxicating than any elixir, you’re euphoria trapped in a sinner’s body
• “I almost feel bad for keeping you to myself,” Val purrs in your ear. He’s been laying underneath you for six minutes and already the shittiness of the day evaporated, “I could bottle and sell you. Make everyone in Hell as happy as I am.”
A nervous, bitter laugh escapes you
“You wouldn’t make much money, Val.”
“I would make millions, corazón” He argues seriously, though he has no intention of sharing you
˚✧₊⁎ Vox ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• The irony is lost on him; someone as soft as you could bring him, an Overlord, to succumb. Below the surface, he’s more insecure than he lets on. He’s perfected the mask of a charming show host, developed it so well that it bleeds into his personality. So much so, that you make him glitch when he gets an inkling of self doubt. Your gentleness makes him weak and it terrifies him, fills him with the urge to push you away but your arms are so inviting that he lets himself be cradled by them. How could he do anything but?
• Rare are the days where he actually feels tired but those are the days he seeks out your affections. To him, you’re safe. You won’t judge him, you don’t pry for details, you’d never tell him to suck it up
• Vox lets himself sink into the couch beside you, tapping your thigh with a claw to invite you to come closer. You never fail to accept and deliver exactly what he needs. It’s bizarre how you know what he needs when he doesn’t himself. Turning to straddle him, you rest your head on his chest and hug him impossibly closer
• “You’re tense today,” You comment quietly, giving him a comforting squeeze.
“Come with me to set for once, you’ll find out why.”
Nuzzling into his chest as if trying to find his nonexistent heartbeat, you replied, “Nah. Sounds like too much of a hassle.”
“Exactly why I need you there.”
“Promise not to bring me on air like you’re always threatening to?”
A dry cackle escapes as he keeps his gaze towards the ceiling. Vox has this fanatical plan that you two could be the power couple of Hell, outranking Lucifer and Lilith (and lasting twice as long) if you would just sit at the same desk as him, deliver news and playful banter that would knock 666 News down a couple thousand pegs. You were worried someone wouldn’t want to see your face, you’d make his ratings plummet, you’d ruin everything he worked so hard to build. He hates when you spiral like that.
“No.” Vox mumbles honestly.
He’d prove you wrong like he’s done everyone else, one way or another
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charliemwrites · 1 year ago
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Bark bark bark awoooo
No content warnings
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You’re gonna fucking combust.
Somehow, someway, this is Johnny’s fault. You’re not sure how yet, so he it isn’t fair for him to be in trouble, but you know it.
“This is your fault,” you tell him, pouting in bed — bare ass naked, but that means nothing to him, he’s a dog. He cocks his head, and you wave your (broken) vibrator at him. “I don’t know how, but it is. Is this because I wanna chop your balls off?”
His mouth closes, eyes big - like he actually understands you. In your horny delirium, you almost believe he really does.
You flop onto your back with a sigh, eyes a little wet with frustration.
It’s been two months since you last successfully got off. Your vibrator (and its replacement… and its replacement’s replacement) keep breaking, or running out of battery. The plug is defective or falls out of the socket.
Once you successfully got right to the edge - just for it to die. You almost did cry that time.
Sure, there’s your hand. But every time you try ol’ reliable a certain four-legged roommate interrupts one way or another. And when you tried to kick him out of the room, and then ignored the howling, scratching, and general drama - there was loud and rapid knocking at your door.
Like fucking clockwork. If you get anywhere at all, you never get to finish.
It wouldn’t be so bad, either. Your libido isn’t anything crazy, you don’t think. At least it wasn’t before. But now there’s Soap.
Soap who you should not be so attracted to. Who has no sense of propriety or boundaries, who murmurs the dirtiest things to you in the most public and otherwise mundane places. And he just keeps. Showing. Up.
Like he’s got a tracker on you or something. (You’ve checked, he doesn’t.)
He’s like every guilty fantasy you had as a good, studious girl back in high school. The kind of guy to grab your thigh under your parents’ dinner table and take your virginity in the back of his car. Maybe corner you by the lockers between classes to kiss you silly and drive up your absence record.
You never actually went for those boys — and perhaps gratefully, they never went for you. In romance novels, it would be a quaint little coming of age story. The stuff to swoon over. But reality was a lot scarier for you, especially with your older sister always keeping an ear out to report back to your parents and… well, yeah.
You’ve always been a firm introvert, anyway. That’s why you live out in the woods with only a dog for regular company.
But Soap. Soap is some unholy amalgamation of those innocent, shy girl fantasies turned R-rated. Like the grown-up version of those cute YA novels.
And you have no defense for it — except distrust, that is.
Soft-hearted as you are, you know you don’t do casual well. And you know that guys like Soap just like to spin you up and up until you finally give in, think the dreaded words “maybe it’ll work out” despite that rational voice in your head saying, “don’t bet on it.”
Doesn’t stop you from secretly wanting him though.
Fear is the only thing keeping you in check now. Some of it for you own feelings; of getting invested in a guy that has done nothing but treat you like a prime cut of meat. The rest of it is a genuine concern that he might be a bit dangerous. He’s so much bigger than you, visibly stronger. Has gone out of his way to make you uncomfortable (doesn’t matter that a very dark and slutty part of you liked it) and ignored your attempts at brushing him off.
Fear, unfortunately, is beginning to add to the temptation.
“I’m not going to do it,” you tell yourself, or maybe Johnny. Soap’s contact is on the screen. You don’t remember putting it into your phone, but you must have at some point. “Nope. No way.”
You slide a sideways look at Johnny, tail wagging at a steady clip.
“He’s probably a former frat boy or something, right?” you muse.
Snort.
“No, you don’t think so?” you question, sitting up. He happily crawls into your lap when you pat your thighs, chin resting on your tummy. “Nah, you’re right. Could almost imagine him beating the hell out of one for pissing him off.”
A little grumbly noise. You smile and start petting absently over his head and ears, phone forgotten now.
“This is dumb anyway,” you sigh, head tilted back to the ceiling. “You don’t like men. I couldn’t bring him back here.”
Johnny’s ears flick. You giggle and start flopping them around, making airplane noises. Eventually he huffs and starts licking at your face until you stop, complaining that you’ll need to wash off now.
“Fuck it.”
Johnny picks his head up, staring at you as you run a hand down your face.
“Fuck it all. I’m going to a bar. I’m getting… I dunno. Laid or something.” Thank god it’s only Johnny here. You don’t think you could live with the embarrassment of someone else hearing the way you talk.
You set your hands on your hips, nod to yourself.
“And if it happens to be Soap, then… sign from the universe, right?” You grimace a bit, striding for your bedroom. “Please don’t let him be a murderer or something…”
For once, Johnny is perfectly behaved as you get ready. He doesn’t try to lick at you when you come out of shower (freshly shaved and lotioned and everything). Sits patiently on the bed as you pick through your closet, even noses at a pretty pink dress you rarely wear but were considering for this.
He doesn’t try to bump your arms or hands while you do your makeup, just watches attentively. You choose a pretty, matching bra-panty set, apply a light spritz of perfume. Hesitate over jewelry.
“Is it normal to wear jewelry when you plan on fucking?” you wander allowed.
A little “boof” from the bed. You’ll take that as a yes.
You decide on a set of faux pearls with a gold heart pendant in the center. Not quite a choker, but high enough on your throat to suggest one. A delicate bracelet, a pair of stud earrings, and you’re just about set.
“Christ, I hate doing this alone,” you mutter, fumbling with the zip on the back of the dress.
Lastly, the shoes.
“Fuck it,” you say again. Your mantra for the evening, apparently. Wobble into a pair of heels, a bow on the outside of each ankle where you buckle them.
You pause when you’re done, giving yourself a once over in the full length mirror. Pleased with what you see. Coquettish and pretty, not necessarily bombshell sexy maybe, at least not on first glance. But the necklace, the heels, the cutouts at the waist of your dress… it’s all exactly what you wanted.
“Alright,” you breathe, tummy swooping with excitement. “I can do this… right?”
Johnny’s gotten down off the bed, is keeping a respectful distance. You appreciate it, don’t want to have to lint roll hair off yourself.
“Oh, god. What if he’s bad?” You ask, giving him a horrified look. “What if he’s been, like, compensating?”
To your shock, he stomps his paw and starts damn near howling. Carrying on and on like he’s bitching you out. You blink in shock, almost laugh — then check the time.
“Oh! Don’t worry, baby. I won’t let you starve!”
You toddle off to the kitchen and prep his dinner, scrunching your nose at the raw chicken and beef liver. He grumbles and fusses the whole way, making you laugh as you pretend to have a whole conversation about the economy with him.
“Okay, bonnie Johnny,” you coo, setting his bowl down. “Be good, okay? If I bring someone back here please don’t eat them, okay?”
More grumbles and whines and growls. You roll your eyes, blow him a kiss, and slip out the door.
You tell yourself you just need action with someone. Don’t admit to yourself that there’s really a specific someone you’re hoping to see.
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chailovesu · 1 year ago
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Random things u can add to your script if you are manifesting being famous
i think ima separate this into careers
model:
being on the cover of magazines
always knowing when a camera is on you + never have awkward pictures get popular
being considered one of the best new gen models and one of the best of all time
being signed to desired company
being the muse of a very famous designer
very photogenic/videogenic
have an iconic walk that everyone loves
you could be wearing something absolutely hideous but make it look good
singer/rapper:
every single song u make blows up on every platform
kind of rapper/singer that once u feature on a song its ur song now
if u cover a song the cover gets more famous bc it sounds better
popular dance trend being made to your songs
immunity to getting sued for copying a song
perfect stage presence
be able to dance and sing/rap at the same time
constantly be nominated for awards and win
any song u make constantly goes platinum and charts for months
having a song featured in a popular tv show/movie
be good at taking selcas and they always go viral on pinterest
easily hit high notes
unreleased music never gets leaked
being talented on a beyonce level
be invited to perform at places like the superbowl and coachella
be able to write ur own songs with unique lyrics
game streamer:
clips of u playing always go viral
have a connection with your subscribers + be everyones comfort streamer but not in a forced way
be really good at the games u play effortlessly and look good while playing
having merch that always get sold out
being seen as the main streamer for desired games
be entertaining to watch + funny things always happen on stream
subscribers always donate alot of money and give you gifts
collab with other famous streamers + everyone enjoys playing with you
have access to unreleased games early
have partnerships with really big brands
be gifted free games often by companies for promotions
people know u by face AND voice
if u wanna be a faceless streamer at first your face reveal blows up (in a good way not the dream way) and ur subscribers double bc of it
actor/actress:
being fancasted for your favorite cartoon character so much that u act in the live action version of it
always get paid a lot for your roles
have chemistry with your co-workers
be good at all type of acting (voice acting too)
easily attract roles
never get hate for the roles u act
always get awards for your acting
easily be able to do things like cry on command + be able to make your audience feel the emotion through the screen
be a very versatile actor like your range is crazy
applies to all:
seeing edits of yourself by talented editors often
pristine reputation + never being canceled
being that one celebrity that everyone defends like their life depends on it
Immunity to weird ppl finding out abt u
being likable in general any hate you receive just feels so forced
being alot of celebrities ideal type
being everyones celebrity crush
never having your xxxx exposed (or revise never taking any)
eye contact with u makes interviewers nervous like that one jhene aiko clip
people from your past only have good things to say + other celebrities love meeting you and only have good impressions of you
this one applies to acting and singing and modeling but being a highly sought-after person in that field
a fortnite skin? or being featured in your favorite game
still being safe going in public alone + fans respect your privacy
and if ur manifesting being a nepo baby
everyone supports you
in your childhood u were featured in alot of movies/shows (or just in the spotlight often) so people feel like they watched you grow up and adore u
being more famous than your parents + people feel like even if ur parents weren't famous u still would've gotten famous
having famous childhood friends
if i think of more ideas or careers ill make a pt2 but thats probably unlikely idk yet
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azure-cherie · 1 year ago
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𝐏𝐀𝐂 : 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅.𝐒.
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Hello love's for this reading i channel a love letter from your future spouse , i really have a lack of fs readings and ik I don't do that enough but here's it because I feel so called to do this todayyy. Take what resonates and leave the rest , you can choose multiple . I hope you guys like this and feedbacks are always always appreciated !!!!!
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Pile 1 :
Mon Amour ,
The sweet river of my life, the reason I live , the reason I thrive , I've been seeing you in my dreams since past lives and I can't fathom the beauty in your eyes . Ever since we've been together and the day i met you my life has been absolutely the one I dream of . Thank you for always being the shoulder I can learn on thank you i think i don't say it enough, you deserve the world and I'm trying everyday to bring in the world for you . I love the way you make art and love the way you make me your muse if I had the talent you had i probably would sing for you . I love your sweet kisses like candy and i hate every moment i argue so I'm happy to be sorry first kidding I know you're always right kinda bad on my part right , I wanna give you the world and there's so much to be done yet , so much to achieve , so much to heal but i know with you by my side i will heal. So i steal the thunder from heaven to make a souvenir of my love even when i am dead the way i tell you about my love won't be enough.
- yours completely
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Pile 2 :
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Dear love ,
In my darkest days you're the light I turn to , my heart is so full even when my brain is in shambles because I have you . I'm so in love that I can barely eat so I soak up your sunshine and I'm all fine and better under your holy light . We are a pair and we will make history and all these people that think we're too young too naive will be left in misery, they don't see you like i do, we both see each other . They say love is a big thing but I'd like laundry and taxes with you . Plain bread with you tastes like heaven , even tho I'm a heathen i pray the heavens for you may the paradise we make last forever, may i always keep jewellery in your altar , may things never be forbidden in our diary and in all of the things that are may I know one thing for sure that I don't wanna spend a moment away from you anymore . I burn for you I'm human for you .
- your lover
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Pile 3 :
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Hey Miss,
Springtime your time my time I look at you my beautiful flower fuller than poppies , more abundant than a lotus , like a burning rose with desire , you set me on fire , yet you cool me like running water how do you do , how do you put me in this state . I wanna love you don't you think it's getting late for even a while to wait , meet me at the garden gate . I don't know much but I know I came into earth to be with you i could be a tree but I'm a human to love you like humans do . How could you know me so well i almost lose myself when I'm with you and that's what I want when I'm with you to be free like a child . I wanna devote all my evenings to make coffee for you and i wanna spend all my breaths being high because I love you so much my thoughts spin out , you're moon herself you grant wishes so please grant mine goddess divine .
- always yours
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Pile 4 :
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Hey sweetheart,
I've been on a quest to find you , since I was young I've always felt that I was meant for more than just I saw what other couples around me had I knew I needed to be drowned and insane when i like someone , but the way you lift me up gave me all of it together , you're all the bright colours at once , yet you're a mystery , I love that i figure out something beautiful about you each day I know life with you can never be boring, it's always fun always worth living , thank you for holding me when the world discarded me , I know angels are real because i have seen you . Sorry for the times i mess things up , i never want that . we need to be together to explore this world without this bond this earth is mere ground with fire at the core , I wanna love you more . How do I explain this love where do I put all my love for you you're growing into me with each day I place your name in my heart like a sweet melody , i live to love you , I love to love you.
- only yours forever
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Thank you so much for reading, have a great day/night ❤️
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moonchildstyles · 1 year ago
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angel getting high for the first time 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾
cw: drug use! its only weed, nothing heavy but if that makes you uncomfortable please skip :)
wordcount: 11.8k+
—————
(Y/N) kicked her legs in the air as she laid tummy down on her bed. She listened to the ringing from the phone pressed to her ear, waiting for a familiar voice to answer. 
In the middle of the third ring, her hopes were answered when a click sounded. Muffled background noise started through the speaker, accompanying a honeyed drawl.
"Hi, lovebug," Harry murmured, his speech seemingly slower than normal. 
"Hi," she chirped through her smile. Her feet kicked in the air, free hand coming up to twirl her hair around her index finger. "What are you doing?" 
A random burst of laughter bubbled through the other line, distant from the phone though it was still loud. "'M on the phone, be quiet," Harry reprimanded, voice far from the receiver before he returned with a decided softer tone, "Nothing, jus' trying to watch a movie with Mitch. What about you, baby?" 
"Just in bed," she mused, "I wanted to call before I went to sleep. Did you want me to let you go since you're with Mitch?" 
Since deciding on moving in together once their respective leases expired, (Y/N) had been making a point to spend more time with Sarah while she was still so close. She didn't want to get in the way if Harry was trying to do the same. 
"No, no, I wanna talk to you, 's alright," he assured her, "How was your day?" 
It was still sweet to (Y/N) the way that she could text him all day long, telling him everything about her day, and he still would ask her a question like this. He told her once that he likes hearing her voice, even if he already knows what she's telling him. 
"It was alright," she said, rolling to lay on her back, looking up at her ceiling, "I turned in that paper that I was working on last weekend, so that's all done. The library was super quiet today, though, I almost fell asleep in the philosophy section." 
A small laugh sounded from Harry. "Did y'really?" 
"Yeah," she sighed, a smile curling her lips, "Elizabeth had to come entertain me. But, what about you? You did that big piece today, right?" 
"Yeah, the thigh piece," he said, voice thick, "She was a nice girl, but I had a headache by the time we took the first break. She liked to talk a lot. M'hand's been cramping since lunch." 
A pout landed on (Y/N)'s lips. She hated hearing about those kinds of details from Harry's job. She had always figured it was so fun and glamorous, easy and fulfilling. She had never thought about the physical toll of drawing and shading and designing all day long. 
"Oh, no," she hummed, instinctively rolling her wrist and curling her fingers as if she could take his pain from miles away. "Did you take anything to help?" 
"Kind of. Mitch and I have been relaxing since he got home." 
She knew exactly what that meant. Though Harry tended to keep this specific hobby of his separated from her, set on the back burner away from the time he spent with her, she knew better. Besides, she had found that little bag in his dresser months ago, she wasn't completely clueless (of course, he did have to explain what she had found to her, but that was a different story). 
That would explain why time seemed to be moving a little bit slower on the other end of the phone, and the boisterous laughter Mitch was sharing in the background. 
"Have you been smoking?" she asked, voice quiet. She always felt a bit silly bringing this up to him, unsure of what terms to be using and what meant what exactly. 
"A little bit, yeah," he affirmed, "Sorry. I didn't know you'd be calling. I wouldn't have if I knew you wanted to talk tonight." 
Shaking her head despite the fact he couldn't see her, (Y/N) rushed her protests. "No, no, don't be sorry. I don't mind, you know that. As long as you're happy and you guys are being careful." 
"Always am, baby." 
A heat bubbled in her chest at his words. While he never did it around her, there were times that she called him or he FaceTimed her before bed when he was under the influence and his voice drawling just a little deeper, sitting heavier in his chest, hit her just perfectly. She could imagine the way his eyes were a bit hooded, his tongue sticking around his words, the easy smiles that spread across his face for no other reason than he liked the feeling. 
She wondered what he looked like in the act. Was it like the movies with lavender smoke and pieces of blown glass with intricate details? Or did he make his own little rolls, hanging from his lips like a cigarette? 
Mitch's loud laugh on the phone brought her back to reality, blinking her back to her room and Harry's static on the other end of the phone. Harry gave a muffled response before his own laughter joined his best friend's, the sound drawling and breezy. 
When he returned to the phone, she could hear the lingering smile in his tone. "I think Mitch found a movie for us to watch, love." 
"What is it?" she asked, feeling the end of the phone call nearing. She would have to settle for spraying the stuffed bunny he gifted her for Valentine's Day with a sample of his cologne for her to cuddle for the night. 
"I don't even know," he laughed, "but, I think 's gonna be funny. I think 'm gonna have to make us food, though, so I don't think I can talk for much longer." 
"That's okay. Have fun with Mitch and I'll talk to you tomorrow, right?" 
"Right," he affirmed, voice soft, "Sleep well, lovebug. I'll call you during my lunch." 
"Okay," she sighed, fitting her cheek against her pillow, "I love you." 
"I love you more, baby," he cooed, "Goodnight." 
An exaggerated kiss noise sounded through her phone, pulling a loud peal of laughter from (Y/N)'s lips. He never really did that when he was around his friends, only putting on the show when he was calling her in private. She thought it was very sweet. 
"Goodnight," she laughed, pressing the red button before she became too spoiled with his shenanigans and tried to keep the call going. 
Setting her phone on her nightstand, she snuggled into her comforter, a throw blanket covering her body instead of her duvet. Pulling her studded bunny from the fringes of her bed, (Y/N) nestled her cheek against the soft fluff. The sown still smelled of Harry's house from the last time she had spent the night, bringing her back to what he was doing in her absence. 
The mystery surrounding his activity of choice for the day is what flicked her curiosity. She'd seen a few movies with marijuana being an uncredited character along with a couple of books with the high feeling being described, but she had never been exposed to anything substantial in real life before she moved away from her parents. Even then, she still hadn't experienced more than the herbal scent that inevitably clung to apartment complexes so close to a university campus and the few bleary eyed classmates she had to work with. 
Specifically, she wondered what Harry was like when he was in that state. Those classmates of hers always seemed disconnected, tired, and in their own head. Was Harry the same way? Did he act the way he did when he drank a little bit too much wine? Or was he wild and excitable like those in the movies? Or sleepy like she had read in her books? 
What would she be like? 
The idea followed her behind her shuttered eyes, her mind going a bit floaty the closer she sunk into sleep. 
—————
"Sarah, have you ever... smoked weed before?" 
The words felt silly falling from (Y/N)'s mouth. Was that even the correct term? She didn't know, but she kept her attention on the food she was making in front of her, hoping Sarah wouldn't notice. 
"Yes," she answered with a suspicious drawl, sweeping through the apartment with a laundry basket on her hip, "Why?" 
(Y/N) only shrugged. "I don't know. I've just been thinking about it." She paused, tipping her head. "What does it feel like?" 
"Smoking?" Sarah pressed. 
"Yeah," (Y/N) chirped, feeling shy that she was even breaching this conversation. "Or, like, being high. Is it like the movies?" 
"A little bit," Sarah mused, folding her laundry on the dining room table into neat piles. "It's not as dramatic or crazy, but it can feel that way sometimes. It depends on the person. Everyone's different." 
Rolling her lips, (Y/N) nodded her head. She chanced a look over her shoulder at her friend, slowing her stirring. "What are you like?" 
Sarah shrugged, a crease between her brows as she thought. "I haven't smoked in a while, but I used to get really tired. It always depended on what kind we had, but I usually got really tired." 
Is that what Harry did? Did he get sleepy, like some of her classmates? Did he nod off during the movie he and Mitch watched the other night? 
"When was the last time?" (Y/N) asked, hoping Sarah didn't cut her off. She was genuinely curious, she hoped she wasn't prodding and poking past her welcome. 
"Maybe a year ago? Could have been longer," Sarah answered. "I was with Mitch so it wasn't too long ago." 
Fixing her attention back on the stirring of the soup she was making for their dinner, she tried to act casual as she spoke. "W-Was Harry there, too?" 
"Harry?" 
(Y/N) could hear the smile in Sarah's voice as she realized where (Y/N)'s curiosity was stemming from. She never tired of teasing just a little over how in love she was with her Harry. (Y/N) only hummed a confirmation, keeping her voice to herself. 
"He wasn't there the last time, but he did used to smoke with us sometimes," Sarah explained, sounding a little too amused as she spoke, "Why?" 
Shrugging, (Y/N) pretended as if she wasn't intrigued at the info Sarah could share. "No reason really. Was it fun? With Harry and Mitch and all?" 
"(Y/N)," Sarah sighed, her voice floating through a smile, "C'mon." 
Stopping her distracting task, she turned to face Sarah who was looking at her with that knowing smile she somehow always had when it came to (Y/N)'s secrets. She was an open book as her friend could tell. 
"What?" (Y/N) feigned nonchalance as if she hadn't already been caught. 
"Did Harry say something? Is that why you're asking about all of this?" Sarah poked, her features set in a gentle tease. 
Worrying her bottom lip between her teeth she canted her head, eyes dropping to where Sarah's hands had stalled her folding. "Not exactly," she started, "He just... I don't know, I called him the other night and he was with Mitch and they had been smoking, he told me. I know he's done it a few times since we started dating, but I've just been thinking about it since then." 
Sarah hummed, nodding her head as she listened. "I get it," she said, "I know he doesn't do it around you or anything, right?" (Y/N) only shook her head. Popping her hip with a furrow appearing in her brow as she cast her mind back in search of answers for (Y/N)'s previous questions. "I wouldn't say it's exactly like the movies," Sarah continued, "But it depends on the person and the strain, and things like that. I usually get pretty tired and hungry, Mitch is like the movies sometimes—loud and everything is funny—, and Harry gets really lovey and lazy. None of us really make much sense, though." 
(Y/N) tried to picture it. Lavender smoke in the air, Harry lazing about with hearts in his eyes, Mitch laughing about nothing, and Sarah passed out in the corner with a pillow under her cheek. A pinch appeared between her brows as she tried to see where she would sit amongst those characters. 
"What do you think I'd be like?" 
Blinking, Sarah brought her gaze to her friend. She pursed her lips as she took in (Y/N). 
"I don't know. It's not the same as being drunk, so I don't know if you'd be as excitable." Sarah contemplated for a moment longer. "I don't really know, honestly. Are you thinking about finding out?" 
She could only shrug. A similar anxiety she felt around alcohol before she broke that barrier still surrounded this, if even a bit heightened given the fact the substance was still very much taboo in her life. There were so many scary, over-exaggerated out there about marijuana, along with the fact that it was still very much taboo in (Y/N)'s life. The use of it seemed to be something that was only done in private and kept as a secret for some people. She was worried that if she found out why, she would regret it. 
Though, there were those puffing thoughts in the back of her mind that begged to differ. It couldn't be that bad. Harry, Mitch, and Sarah were three of her favorite people in the whole world. They weren't devilish burnouts with a one-track lifestyle taking them down the drain, like horror stories and PSA's liked to project. They were good people who sometimes indulged in extra relaxation when they had the chance and the mindset to do so. There was nothing wrong with that. 
"You could ask H, if you wanted. You know he'd answer anything you wanted to know." 
"I know," (Y/N) drawled, unsure despite the fact she knew Sarah was telling the truth. "You don't think he'd be annoyed or anything? I know he keeps it all separate from me for a reason, so I don't want to make him upset." 
Sarah leveled her gentle gaze on (Y/N)'s face. "I think he does it because he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable or anything. It's different than drinking wine with him and things like that, so I bet he just doesn't want to scare you." 
(Y/N) shook her head, "He couldn't scare me, though. He's too nice." 
"To you," Sarah clarified, her smile soft and teasing, "You know he just worries about you and all of that. You wouldn't upset him if you wanted to know more about anything he does."
He did love teaching and showing her things, she knew that. 
"I'll think about it," (Y/N) settled.
"Good," Sarah smiled, grabbing her stacks of folded laundry, "Is dinner ready?" 
"Almost," (Y/N) chirped, adding a little bit of extra seasoning to the pot, "I just need to add the noodles. It'll probably be ready by the time you're done putting everything away." 
Sarah gave a small cheer, stacks of clothing now rehomed in the laundry basket to be returned to her room. "Thank you," she sung, "We should watch that yacht show when we sit down, don't you think?" 
Perking up at the suggestion, (Y/N) quickly nodded her head. "That sounds perfect!" she smiled, mellowing some as she turned her attention to her swirling soup base, "And, thank you for answering everything, by the way. It always helps me." 
"I know, that's why I do it," Sarah settled, reaching out to squeeze (Y/N)'s arm gently before she swept away. 
Left in the silence of the kitchen with only the simmering soup, (Y/N) felt a little bit lighter. Some of her questions were answered even if she had more she wanted to hear from Harry directly. More than anything, she was a little enamored at the idea that Harry was loving and lazy under the influence. She already had a small idea given that she had seen how easy and bubbly he became when he drank, but she'd never seen him really slow down the way she pictured it in her head. 
She wanted to see just how lovey he became, if she was being honest. She already had the privilege of experiencing the affectionate side of him, she wondered just how much higher that volume would be kicked to if he had been smoking. What if he really did have hearts in his eyes?
The thought brought a quiet smile to (Y/N)'s face.
Maybe, she really would have to ask him. 
—————
"What are you thinking for dinner, my love?" 
(Y/N) puckered her lips to reciprocate the small kiss Harry gave her as he traipsed by the couch. Her eyes followed the broad of his back as her made his way towards the kitchen. With her hands folded on the arm of the sofa, she rested her cheek on her forearm, kicking her legs up behind her as she watched him.
"Whatever you want, I'm okay with," she told him, voice soft and easy. 
"Yeah?" he prodded, looking over his shoulder as he washed his hands in the sink, "Even if I didn't feel like making dinner tonight and decided to order sushi instead?" 
"Sushi?" (Y/N) bubbled, "From the new place?" 
Harry nodded, dimples thumbed into his cheeks. "I figured we could try it out tonight, if that was alright." 
"Yes, please," she beamed, her grin only widening when came around to join her in the common area after drying his hands. 
His lip ring bobbled as he matched her smile, using a gentle hand to push a stray strand of hair from her eyes. "Why don't you pull up the website for us while I put my sketches away, and find what y'like. Then we'll order, yeah? 
Despite the long hours he worked at the shop this past weekend, he looked as gorgeous as ever to (Y/N). He lacked eyeliner after wiping it off as soon as he made it home, but his eyes were still the star of the show against his creamy skin. A fresh bee tattoo stood out on the column of his throat, the mosaic wings following the line of his jaw amongst the rose bush filler he had inked across the skin. With the way he stood over her, she got the perfect view of his spiraling curls and the cut planes of his face complete with his glimmering nose stud and lip ring. 
She nodded her head in a lovey daze. "I can do that." 
Amusement flickered in his eyes as he looked down at her. He dipped to her level to press a lingering kiss to the tip of her nose. "Thank you, baby," he murmured, moving away to gather the art supplies he was working with, "I'll be right back." 
Pulling out her phone, (Y/N) searched up the restaurant up while her mind was still on Harry. 
While the questions she had for him were still in the back of her mind, it was too easy to become distracted with him. They weren't apart for a long time by any stretch of the imagination, but even spending a long, four-day weekend away from one another allowed enough fondness to grow between them to keep her mind from wandering very far from what was right in front of her. Besides, Harry barely let her get a word in since she stepped foot in his home, having tugged her to his bedroom with his lips pressed to hers, only breaking for breath. 
She'd ask him at some point, she was sure. If she had the mind to after dinner. 
Browsing through the menu for a few minutes, (Y/N) found the rolls she was interested in, picking things she had a feeling Harry would like and finding other little gems on the website that she would mention in hopes of getting his opinion on. She searched through the site, trying to find an option to order online with no luck, the browser rerouting her to the main page every time she tried to plug into the ordering site. 
"H?" she called, realizing he still hadn't come back from resetting his utensils. 
"Yes?" he answered back, still in the bedroom, "What do y'need, love?" 
Instead of responding, she stood from the couch and moved towards his room, brows knitted and phone screen bright in her hand. "The website isn't working—it won't let me order," she explained, stepping over the threshold to his room. 
Lifting her head, she saw him standing at his dresser, back to the door with his head angled down and hands fiddling across the top of his dresser. He looked over his shoulder at her, his hands slowing. 
"Give me a second, and I'll take a look," he told her, "I'm still cleaning up—forgot I left some things out." 
"Oh?" she sounded, stepping towards him with her phone being slid back into her pocket, "Do you want any help?" 
Growing close enough, she peered around him to see what he was working on. Instead of spotting the graphite and colored pencils she figured she'd find, she instead saw tiny green buds splaying across the wooden surface with a pair of loose pieces of thin paper and a tall black canister. Harry worked quickly to clean up the mess, majority of the green flakes having been scooped up and replaced in the container though he was struggling to wrangle the remains back into their container. 
"'S alright," he murmured, shifting just enough to cut her view of the space, "'M almost done." 
Rolling her lips between her teeth, she rocked on her heels as she stayed put. Before she could think better of her words, they were already spilling from her mouth: 
"Is that weed?" 
She cringed at the sound of her voice wrapping around something so outside of her vocabulary. It sounded better in her head.
Harry's hands slowed, stilling before he looked over his shoulder at her. A sliver of his workspace was once again revealed at the small shifting. 
"What was that?" he pressed, his question seemingly heavy between the two of them. 
She said the wrong thing, didn't she? (Y/N) dropped her gaze from his, settling on the new bumblebee on his neck instead. 
"I ask if that was your... you know," she trailed off, hating the sound of her floundering almost more than just saying the word outright, "That's weed, right?" 
Feeling Harry's gaze trail over her, (Y/N) tried not to squirm. 
"It is, yeah," he muttered, "I didn't realize I left it out. 'M sorry."
Darting her eyes up to match his once more, she tipped her head to the side. "Why are you sorry?" 
Turning away from the dresser entirely, Harry faced her directly. He gave her a small shrug. "I don't like leaving it out when you're here. I meant to clean it up before y'came over, but I forgot." 
"You know I don't mind," she reminded him, "You don't have to be sorry." 
A gentle smile curled his lips, only a single dimple in his cheeks as he looked at her. 
"Thank you, love," he started, "Let me clean up, I'll wash m'hands again, and then I'll—" 
"What does it feel like?" 
(Y/N) could feel her skin simmering in embarrassment as her tumbling question fell from her mouth before she had a chance to police the words. Everything she had been too distracted to ask him came flooding back then, unable to be stopped now that she saw the opportunity. 
"Sorry," she peeped, realizing how abruptly she had cut him off.
He waved her off, "'S alright." He watched her with attentive eyes, catching each of her expressions and minute movements. "What does what feel like?" 
There was no going back now, she figured. 
"Being high," she peeped, "What does it feel like?" 
While he didn't seem to understand where her line of questioning was coming from, or understood her sudden curiosity in his private hobby, he didn't dissect any further. 
Harry rolled his neck, pursing his lips. "It's different for everyone," he started, much the same as Sarah had, "It depends on the kind you smoke, too." 
"But what does it feel like for you?" she rattled off, her words coming quick. Her hands were a busy bundle at her waistline, looking at him with curious eyes. 
A small tug on the corner of his lip had a lopsided smile sparking on his mouth. "It depends, like I said, on what kind, but I usually like it best when m'hands hurt. It helps numb it long enough for the cramping to go away," he mused, "But, other than that, it makes me tired—but not enough to sleep. I jus' want to do nothing but sit and eat. I also get very touchy; lots of cuddling with pillows and whining about not being with you." 
He had to have known that his last comment would get her lips splitting into a sheepish smile, (Y/N) dropping her head to fix her gaze at their feet. It was still a little wild to her that Harry thought about her as often as she did him, even when she wasn't right in front of him.
"You feel like that every time?" 
"Mostly, yeah," he shared, "Sometimes I feel like sketching, or I fall asleep right away. Back when Mitch and I would go out a lot, I used to be really hyper—doing stupid shit because I wasn't afraid of anything. I've definitely calmed down since then." 
"Oh," she sounded. (Y/N) couldn't imagine Harry being reckless, getting himself into trouble that way—but, this was the same man that apparently received his first tattoo at a mechanic's garage by a very amateur artist. He was capable of anything, she guessed. 
"Why do you want to know, love?" he asked, tipping his head with a spiral of his curl falling over his shoulder. 
She attempted to act as nonchalant as possible, giving a shrug of her shoulders despite her lips being rolled between her teeth. "I don't know," she answered, "I've just been thinking about it, I guess." 
"Yeah? Is that all y'wanted to know?" 
While there had to have been hundreds of questions that could come to mind, everything from what he and Sarah meant when they specified reactions were based on the strain or kind of weed that was being consumed, to what skunks vs. dank meant when it came to the herb, she didn't know where to start. Though there was one thing she was wanting to know, beyond just the details of what it would be like to see a clingy, lovey Harry. 
"What do you think I'd be like?" she asked, her words coming out in a rush before she could rethink them.
Harry's gaze was warm on her face as he examined her. Amusement sparked in his eyes. 
"I don't know, but I have a feeling you'd be a little bit like Mitch," he explained, "I think you'd be excited about everything. But, I'd hope you'd be a little like me just because I like the idea of you being clingy and warm, too." 
She liked that idea, too. It was easier this time to add herself to the picture of Harry, Mitch, and Sarah, superimposing herself at Harry's side with her own hearts in her eyes and her hands tangled with his. (They could sneak kisses, too, if she caught the bug of no fear like he used to have).
"Could—Can I—... I think I want to try, if that's alright," she stuttered, unable to find the right words before just letting something roll off her tongue. 
Harry's silence was heavy between them, the lilypad of his irises setting on her. "You want to try smoking?" 
Starting with a soft nod, she tried to find that reckless bubbling that had carried her this far. "I think so, yeah." A beat passed. "If that's alright." 
When he didn't immediately say anything, she chanced a peek up at him to find his eyes fixed on her, gentle and melting as he took her in. He opened his arms for her when he caught her eye, his features softened and warm. "C'mere." 
(Y/N) all but fell into his arms, his chest warm and solid under her cheek. She looped her arms around his middle, her eyes fluttering closed as she relaxed into him. He worked like a shot of lavender incense and chamomile tea for her, the perfect thing to settle her in moments like these. 
His hand spanned over the planes of her back, fingertips massaging the knots of muscle and ladder of her spine. He rubbed over her form in a soothing circuit between her shoulder blades, his opposing hand an anchoring weight on her waist. 
"Y'really want to try it out, love?" he prodded her gently, his voice rumbling under her cheek. 
"I think so," she mumbled, finding it easier to speak now that she was there to hold her instead of watch her.
"When did y'decide that?" 
"The other day, I think," she explained, "After we talked on the phone." 
He hummed, the sound reverberating in her ear. "What made y'think y'wanted to try something like this?" 
Harry always liked to talk her through things like this, she found. It made it easier for him to understand her thought process, he'd said, helping him be honest with her if he worried she was making a choice that might hurt her later. He never lacked patience when it came to guiding her through new experiences. 
"I don't know," she answered honestly, "I just want to know what it's really like. I've only seen a couple of movies and read a few books, but I want to know what it would feel like for me. I don't think it could be so bad if you like it." 
Nosing at her hair, she could feel the smile that had spread across his lips. "'M not always the smartest though, baby. You know that." 
She let out a small laugh at his griping. "I know, but I trust you. If you really don't think it would be good for me, I know you would tell me." 
A pause settled between them. 
"You don't feel like you have to, right? Jus' because 's something I do sometimes, I don't expect you to feel comfortable with it or want to do it with me." 
"I know," she responded, voice resolute, "I just want to try it at least once. If I don't like it or anything like that, I won't do it again." 
After a lingering moment, Harry drew her away from him, peering down at her with a soft gaze. "If you're sure, then we can try it whenever y'want. Jus' let me help you, and I'll be there." 
An impulsive flicker lit through her system. She was on a roll, why stop now? 
"Can we try it tonight?" 
Harry looked at her with widened eyes. "Tonight?" 
(Y/N) nodded her head. "I don't have class until the afternoon tomorrow," she started, a plan coming together, "Do you have to go in early tomorrow?"
His smile was lopsided as he shook his head, likely following where she was going with this. "No, I don't." 
"We could stay up, then," she rattled off, "I could try tonight, and if anything goes wrong we can sleep in a little in the morning." 
Amusement filtered through his gaze. "I didn't know we were having a sleepover," he teased her, dipping his head until his nose nudged against hers, "Y'want to stay the night with me, baby?" 
Her skin hummed as (Y/N) fought the urge to hide herself in his neck. (She acted as if he hadn't been fingers deep in her just a few hours prior, their mouths welded together and her legs around his waist)." 
"Harry," she whined, curling her fists in his t-shirt to keep from pulling away, "I'm trying to be serious." 
"I know," he crooned, tipping his chin to peck a soft kiss to her pouted lips, "And, 'm listening. We can try it out tonight, if y'really want to. But, I think we should eat first, yeah?" 
"Yeah," she repeated, giving a slight nod of her head, "I still need help with the website, though."
"Right," he murmured, pulling away, "Since I don't really need to clean up anymore, let me take a look." 
With that, (Y/N) handed him her phone, telling him about the confusion she felt with the links and the rerouting and all, but her mind was somewhere else. Flicking her gaze around his shoulder, she saw the mess he was leaving out for them to take care of later. The small green buds sparked that familiar kind of nervous excitement that she'd grown accustomed to when it came to new things Harry was planning on teaching her. 
She just hoped she didn't make a fool of herself.
—————
"What did you think, love? Good, right?" 
Taking their dirty utensils—including the pink chopsticks he gifted her for Valentines—Harry spoke over his shoulder as he made his way to the kitchen.
(Y/N) sat pliantly on the couch, tummy full of the variety of sushi rolls they sampled for the night, along with a new favorite miso soup that she was surely going to be craving as the week went on. "So good. I think my favorite is still the spicy salmon one with that seaweed salad on top." 
Harry laughed from where he stood, surely remembering the way she had practically taken that roll for herself, hoarding the pieces to allow only one bite for him. "I really liked that one, too. We'll have to go back again soon, yeah?" 
"Yes, please," she chirped, looking over the back of the couch as he made his return. 
While the food was a delicious distraction for the night, (Y/N) had still marinated in the idea of what would be coming once she finished and they were settling for the night. The mess he'd left on his dresser was waiting for them, loose papers and all. 
"Ready?" he asked, coming to stand at the end of the sofa.
Was she? She wasn't sure, honestly. But that uncertainty was outweighed by the curiosity and bubbly jitters she had since Harry had agreed to help her. 
Before she had a chance to answer and take his hand, Harry spoke up again, "Jus' to get ready for bed first, baby." 
"Oh," she sounded, nothing more intelligent coming to mind at the moment, "Um, yeah. Then we'll...?" 
He cracked a smile at her hesitancy to name the activity that she had brought up. "Yes, we'll do that afterwards. You'll probably feel more comfortable in some pajamas and your face clean." 
Though she felt a bit silly at the way she had built up a moment that hadn't quite arrived yet, she understood his logic. Besides, if she turned out to be like Sarah, she wouldn't beat herself up in the morning if she did all of her skincare now, and not when she was already inches from sleep.
Taking Harry's hand, she followed after him as he led her to his bedroom, a small duffle bag of hers that stayed here was already sitting by the bathroom door. A change of clothes, and minis of her most essential skincare needs were packed away inside, making it easy for her to spend the night impulsively when she wanted to. 
(Just then, the reminder that she wouldn't be confined to a single bag when they moved in together made her more giddy than before. Soon, she'd be sharing a whole closet with him, a bathroom, and a home. She couldn't wait).
(Y/N) went through the motions of getting unready with Harry standing behind her in the mirror. More often than not, as she brushed her teeth or patted a balm into her skin, her eyes wandered to his reflection. Once or twice, when she was caught, he gave her a sly smile with glimmering eyes. But, when he didn't catch her, his attention on his own task, she was left to allow her mind to gill with imagination. 
She was reminded as she ran her eyes along the cut of his jaw, the plants of his features, and the high points in-between, that he would be stepping behind the lavender veil with her. His previous conversation with her had only revolved around her and what she wanted out of this experience, straying her mind away from the fact that he was going to be a part of the package. 
What would he look like with smoke pluming from his mouth? Would his lilypad eyes go glazed and red? She wondered if his hands would feel any different gliding over her skin, if his lips would still feel as pillowy against hers. 
The thought had her cheeks warming, a sheepish smile forming around the toothbrush between her lips. 
Harry finished before her, stepping out of the bathroom to give her privacy to change into her pajamas. "I'll wait for you out here," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of her head. 
Closing the door behind himself, she was left alone with the chilled tile under her socked feet. Glancing at the mirror, (Y/N) found herself fresh-faced with wide eyes and a slight swell to her lips from the amount of times she rolled them between her teeth. Blinking, she wondered if she would look any different to Harry after she pulled the smoke into her lungs. 
It was with rushed hands that she dressed into her sleep clothes (really nothing more than a pair of tiny shorts she would inevitably kick off in the night, and a shirt she had stolen so long ago from Harry that it was hers now), almost slipping her top on backwards before she righted herself in the mirror. Stepping out of the washroom with her laundry being dropped atop her duffle for later, (Y/N) saw Harry once again at his dresser.
This time, he looked to her with an easy smile, his hands working over the surface before him.
"Better?" he smiled, lip ring bobbing. 
"Mhm," she hummed, moving towards him in slow strides, "What are you doing?" 
Turning back to face his hands, he told her, "Jus' getting our things ready. Do you want to watch?" 
A pinch creased her brows as she went towards him. Peering around his shoulder, she saw him working with one of the loose papers from before and a small pile of crushed up greenery. 
"What do you have to do?" (Y/N) only had a vague idea of what all went into preparing for a session like this. 
Smiling down at her, his ministrations slowed now that her attention was placed on his hands. He sidestepped just enough to allow her an unobstructed view of his work. "I figured we'd stick with a joint this first time, so I've got to roll one up for us to use." 
Looking at it now, while she didn't have much knowledge of any of this, she could see familiar pieces forming. The paper would be rolled and twisted with the bud inside, Harry flickering a lighter at the end like a cigarette when it was ready.
"How do you do that?" she muttered, stepping that much closer, feeling as if she were a child pressing their nose against the glass separating them from gallons of ice cream. 
A huffed laugh fell from his lips then. Lifting his arm up, he beckoned her to stand between his chest and the dresser. "C'mere." 
Slipping into the small space he freed for her, the heat of his chest could be felt against her back. Though she caught whiffs of it before, now the herby, earthy smell of the bud was right at her nose, wafting through the air and clinging to her skin. Right in front of her, Harry worked around her, his fingers deftly working through his supplies. 
"First," he started, "You've got to keep the paper flat out and put one of the filters at the end." She watched as he pulled a tiny white piece from the canister, setting it at the middle of one of the short ends of the paper. He kept it stable when he reached for the ground up weed that he had piled in the lid to the container, a small mound he pinched at before sprinkling the chunks in a line across the paper. "We've got to fill it up enough so there's not any air bubbles between," he explained as he worked, his arms hovering above her shoulders as he created their joint with the ease of experience. "This part’s always a little hard for me," he told her, to her surprise. 
"What do you mean?" He could have fooled her.
"'S hard to pack it in like this," he elaborated, his voice dull as he concentrated, "M'fingers are too big, so I've got to be extra careful that I don't mess it up." 
Honing her gaze in on his digits, she had to keep herself from tipping her head to the side and falling victim to the sight. She could see it then, she figured, watching as he tried to pat everything as tightly and precisely as possible. His fingers definitely were too big. 
"Oh," she sounded. 
A breathy laugh came from behind her, the exhale twisting through the hair on the top of her head. "Would y'do something for me, love?" he asked, finally packing enough in as tightly as he could before he started folding the ends of the thin paper. 
She gave a nod, now too transfixed on his hands to speak with an even tone. 
"Would you give this a lick for me?" he asked, "We've gotta seal it up before I can twist it all up." 
"Like, the paper?" she clarified, eyeing the open flap he was presenting to her with the joint grasped carefully between his fingers. 
Harry hummed a confirmation. "There's glue on this edge like an envelope. Gotta make it sticky, then I can close it up for us."
"Um, okay," she muttered, placing a steadying hand on his wrist as he brought the almost-joint to her lips. 
Parting her mouth, she swiped the tip of her tongue along the very edge of the paper. It didn't taste quite as artificially sweet as a regular envelope, but then again, everything was coated in that dusky scent that the herb folded inside held. 
"Thank you, baby," he told her, pulling the joint from her lips as he did the closing motion of sealing the edge to the roll. She watched as he did the final step, twisting down the free edge into a tight swirl before he presented it with the filtered end between his fingertips. "All done." 
In front of (Y/N) was the stereotypical joint that she had seen in the few films that showed as much. The paper was translucent in the way that she could clearly see it was filled from the inside with dark, green flakes. The filtered edge was tapered down into a small funnel, leaving the head of the roll trumpeting out, thick with the ground up weed. 
"That was fast," (Y/N) muttered, wanting to reach out and touch, but too scared. 
"I've gotten pretty good, I can't lie," he joked with her, pressing his lips to the back of her head. A paused settled again before he spoke to her, his head still dipped down as he murmured, "Y'still feeling alright, darling? Still want to, or do y'want to go to bed and watch a movie instead?" 
Examining the joint in front of her, the thick scent of the weed surrounding her with the heat of Harry's chest at her back, she nodded her head. "I still want to." 
Dropping an arm to wrap around her waist from behind, Harry hugged her to him for a moment. "Grab a jacket then, and we'll go out back for a second, yeah?" 
"Outside?" she asked, turning in his hold. 
"Don't want it stinking up the house, right?" He looked at her with a raised brow, already stepping towards the closet in search of his own coat. "We'll be fast, baby, 's alright." 
(Y/N) supposed he was onto something, realizing that she had never been struck by the heavy scent like she would figure if he had smoked in his bedroom. As long as no one complained, it wasn't a bad idea to head outback for a second. It would be nice to take in deep breaths in between the smoke too, she figured. 
With a set of slippers on her feet, and a thick hoodie on her body, she followed Harry out the back door, ending on the back patio. He sat on the stoop at her feet, patting the space next to him. 
"Warm enough?" he asked, moonlight waning above their heads. 
Snuggling closer to his side, she nodded her head. "I'm alright, thank you. Are you warm?" 
Despite the unzipped jacket on his form and the thin t-shirt underneath, Harry gave her a small smile. "'M good, baby." 
Flicking out a lighter and the joint from his pocket, he sparked the flame with a flick of his fingers. 
He ran the spark over the trumpeted tip of the joint, his face warming in the firelight glow. "We'll take it easy tonight, yeah?" he murmured, concentration on his hands, "I don't think it'll take much to get y'there, so we probably won't finish this but we'll save the rest for another time if you want." 
She watched as he rotated the edge of the joint over the flame, evenly burning the tip. "Are you not going to have any?" 
"I will," he assured her, "But, I want to make sure I can take care of you. I won't be having too much." 
Having a deja vu moment, (Y/N) was reminded of how it felt to be sitting in his lap as he fed her wine, keeping his own head clear while he let her run wild. 
With the end of the joint glowing a warm orange, Harry put the lighter away. He ashed the very tip away, revealing cool lavender smoke twisting through the air with a heady scent clinging to the particles. 
"Want the first go?" he asked, tipping the roll towards her in an offer. 
"No, no," she answered immediately, "You first." 
His smile was lopsided as he agreed, pulling the joint to his mouth. She watched as he tucked the filtered end between his lips, taking in a shallow inhale with the fiery end glowing to life. His chest expanded as he inhaled. He only pulled the roll away from his lips when his chest was puffed with smoke, a lingering second passing before he exhaled, plumes of dancing smoke drifting through the air. The heavy, thick aroma of the weed surrounded them. 
(Y/N) couldn't pull her eyes from him as the smoke seeped from between his lips, a thin, violet filter hazing his features. The moon above seemed to catch each particle, drowning the scene in cool toned shades, muted and closed. 
She waited for something to change in the way he looked, the way he acted. When the only thing he did was turn to her with a blink, once again offering the joint to her for a try, she wasn't sure what she had expected. 
"Do y'think y'can do that?" 
Her brows creased. "Do what?" 
Amusement molded his features as he tipped his chin towards his offering. "Taking a hit," he stated, "Inhaling, and everything." 
"I-I think so," she answered, carefully pulling the roll from his fingers. She hesitated before taking it to her lips, nervous to replicate his actions while he watched. "Do you feel any different?" 
His smile was warm as he shook his head. "No—probably won't be too different tonight. I've built my tolerance pretty high, so I'll be fine." 
"Oh," she sounded, feeling the slightest bit disappointed knowing that she wouldn't get the full experience of seeing him for what he was under the influence. Maybe sometime she could convince him to let it go. Focusing back on the joint, she stared intensely at the thin ribbon of smoke falling from the tip. "How do I inhale?" 
"Jus' breathe in, baby," Harry laughed, throwing an arm across her shoulders. He tucked her against his side, warming her through her layers. "Only take a little bit at a time, though. And, if y'need to cough, jus' let it happen. You'll be alright." 
Though it was only a few tiny rules, it felt like so much to remember, to keep track of while she was trying something so foreign.
"Wh-What if I take too much?" she muttered, worrying now the longer that she let it keep burning. She hoped she wasn't wasting everything he'd done for her. 
Harry paused, rolling her question around his head before answering. "You'll be alright," he assured her, "Jus' don't want you to take too much, or anything, that's all." 
The idea of taking too much scared her more than the other rules. She didn't know what too much was; how would she know if there was too much in her lungs, how would she know if she needed to pull back? 
"Can you help me?" she murmured, worry lacing through her tone. 
"I can hold it for you if you want?" he offered, though his option didn't seem so concrete as she had hoped. 
"You can't do more?" 
A small silence sat between them when he didn't answer right away. She looked to him, finding him looking at the joint between her fingers with a contemplative crease between his brows. 
"I might have an idea that we can try," he started, flicking his gaze to match hers. "Y'trust me, right?" 
Her nod was immediate. 
A small smile folded his lips as he took the joint from her hand. He brought the roll to his lips, taking in another deep inhale with his eyes fluttering as his chest expanded. The cherry brightened as he pulled in the smoke. As soon as he pulled it away from his mouth, he spoke to her in a muddled voice, a small streak of smoke escaping through his nose. 
"C'mere." 
(Y/N)'s eyes rounded out in confusion. She was already right here, right?
The arm Harry had thrown across her shoulders slithered around her form until his palm came to a cradle on her cheek. He pressed forward then, his lips parting just enough for (Y/N) to get the hint. 
He wanted to kiss her.
Fluttering her eyelids to a close, she leaned forward in an attempt to meet him halfway. Harry, with his hand on her cheek, stopped her short, a small distance left between them. 
With her eyes opening to slits, she found him looking to her with his own gaze trained on her lips. His tender hand on her cheek shifted until his thumb was resting in the full of her bottom lip. Tugging just slightly, he parted her pout into a small gape. Harry ripped his head, leaning just that much closer with his pursed lips. 
(Y/N) held her breath, her own mouth parted open as she felt soft plumes of smoke fan over her lips. His lips just barely grazed her own, pressing against the soft pillows as the smoke ghosted over her tongue, heady and thick.
Pulling away just enough with smoke still twirling around his features, he told her, "Breathe in, baby." 
His voice was still heavy in his throat, emulating the way he spoke in the morning. The detail gave (Y/N) something to focus on as she instinctually closed her mouth as if biting down, the smoke now contained to a thin veil between them. He kept his hand steady on her cheek as she inhaled the way she saw him do, her chest bloating as she filled her lungs with the gifted smoke. 
While she didn't feel the burning in her chest that she thought would accompany the smoke, she instead felt a thick heat in the back of her throat. She tried to mimic what she had seen Harry do, keeping the smoke in her lungs for a moment before exhaling, but she couldn't keep up when she felt her eyes begin to water. 
Unable to handle it much longer, (Y/N) released her breath in clumsy pants, embarrassed to be reacting so intensely right in Harry's face. Though, all he did was stay steady in his spot by her, thumbing at her chin and coaxing her through it. 
Tipping her head down, she finally coughed into her sleeve, eyes watering as she went with his hand falling to the slope of her neck. 
"'S alright, baby, jus' let it out," he murmured, his voice a gentle soothe, "You'll feel better in a second, love." 
By the time she regained her breath, there was a slight glaze over the back of her throat—not quite a tingle, but not entirely normal. Harry tipped his head down by then, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth with his palm spanning the shelf of her collarbones. 
"Y'alright?" he murmured, ever patient when he pulled away to match her eyes. 
Nodding her head, (Y/N) swallowed around her odd throat. "Was that alright?" she croaked, wet bottom lashes grazing the height of her cheekbone.
A fond smile molded Harry's features into soft curves. "Y'did jus' fine, lovebug. So proud of you for not getting scared," he praised her, thumb running over her warm skin, "Feels a little weird doesn't it?" 
(Y/N) didn't have to think before she nodded her head, watching as he ashed the joint they had probably let burn for just a touch too long. "Really weird," she told him earnestly, "My throat feels funny, but that's all so far."  
"Yeah? Want to keep going?" His eyes skated over her features, taking in every reaction, every minute stretch of her muscles. 
While she was sure there was something that would hit soon, she still felt comfortable enough to take a little more from him. (Y/N) answered with a small nod. 
"Same way we did before?"
Remembering the feel of his lips glancing across hers, the faint brush of the tip of his nose over hers, she could feel her skin simmering. "Yeah," she answered, hoping he thought the breathy quality of her voice was a lingering side effect of her coughing. 
He didn't look entirely fooled when that sly smile touched his lips. "Alright," he said, bringing the joint back up to his lips, "We'll do a couple more, then I think you're done, baby. That alright?" 
"That's alright," she murmured, "Thank you." 
This time, watching him taking in the long drag, (Y/N) knew what to expect when he turned to her. She allowed him to hover close enough that he was almost kissing her as he blew out another plume of smoke for her to inhale. When she took her time filling her lungs with the smoke, Harry tipped his head and smeared his lips over her cheek, kissing down her neck. 
She had more confidence this go around, coaxing herself through as Harry held her. That thick feeling in the back of her throat intensified as she closed her eyes, her chest expanding under her borrowed hoodie. 
"Doing good, baby," he murmured into her ear, pulling away to match her gaze, "Go ahead and breathe out, love. I think you're good." 
Following his direction, the lavender smoke twirled between them. Sucking in clean air, she filtered out her lungs. This time around, opening up her eyes to look up at the moonlight and the stars blinking over the inky canvas, things felt different. There was a bit of lethargy to her movements, even in the darting of her gaze. Her limbs felt as if there was extra weight attached, something heavy that slowed her before she even had a chance to move.
It was an odd feeling, something that she'd never experienced before or had anything of comparison to, but it wasn't unpleasant. She'd even say she liked it so far.
Harry seemed to pick up on the fact that she was edging into new territory as he watched over her, eyes sparking from amusement. "One more?" 
"Yeah," she settled, her lips feeling looser the more she sunk into the moment, "One more." 
"Wanna try by yourself?" he asked, taking his own small puff from the joint before he was angling it towards her. 
"Not by myself, no," she argued, still scared to be in charge of her own dosing. 
"I can hold it for you if y'want—take it back when you've had enough," Harry offered, letting a cloud leave his lips as he spoke. 
"Okay," she nodded, taking on his offer. 
"Open," he instructed, setting the filter of the joint between her lips, "Then jus' suck in, okay? You'll be able to feel it in the back of your throat, so stop if you've had enough and I haven't taken it back yet." 
(Y/N) wrapped her lips around the filter, taking in Harry's directions with absent ears. She couldn't imagine he wouldn't be able to catch herself and her intake before he did. 
Emulating what she'd seen from him before, she sucked in, her cheeks hollowing just enough to show off the shape of her cheekbones. The back of her throat warmed, embers igniting in a low burn. This was more than what Harry had given her before, but she didn't mind. This would be just enough,she figured.
At the perfect moment, Harry pulled away prompting her to breathe out the final cloud of smoke. He asked the joint once more, a small pile of grey dust having collected at their feet. 
A few huffed coughs fell from (Y/N)'s lips, unused to the feeling of gathering the smoke directly from the source. Harry wrapped his arm around her, tucking her into his side as she eased through the final intake. 
"How do you feel?" he asked her, voice low under the moonlight. 
Looking around, (Y/N) tried to find the answer to the question. 
It was an odd feeling, she decided. She felt both light and heavy at the same time, her head in the clouds with her body entirely anchored to the ground. Prickles poked at her skin, her limbs their own entity as she brought her hands into a bundle in her lap. 
There was no other way to describe it other than the fact that she felt high. 
"Good," she answered simply, "Different." 
"You'll get used to it, my love," he murmured into her ear, pressing a soft kiss to the space just before. 
"Do you feel different?" she asked, her voice heavy in her dry throat. 
"A little," Harry explained, stubbing out the cherry of the joint, "But, I think 's time we get inside before either of us freezes, don't you think?" 
"Yeah, yes."
It was when Harry let out a small huffed laugh that (Y/N) couldn't contain her own laughter. A loud peal fell from her lips. She wasn't even sure why she was laughing. That only made her laugh harder.
—————
"That is so funny," (Y/N) giggled to herself, clenching her hands in the fabric of her top lest she forget they were there. "Harry, did you see that?! It was funny!" 
He was back in the kitchen, working over the stove with a pot of noodles boiling away and a cheesey sauce working on the other burner, leaving (Y/N) to watch this movie all on her own. 
"Which part, baby?" he asked, his rumbling voice sounding farther away than she remembered. 
(Y/N) blinked, watching the brightly colored animated characters go across the television screen. "The one that was just on! With the cat on the piano!" 
How could he not have been paying attention? (Y/N) had never seen something so entertaining before, if she was being honest. This had to be her new favorite movie—she just needed to remember what it was called. 
"Oh," he sounded, "I did see that, sorry, lovebug. It was very funny." 
"Good," she responded absently, craning her neck to look over the back of the couch towards where he stood in the kitchen, "I'm so hungry, H." 
"I know," he laughed, looking at her with his skin seemingly glowing and the smile of a prince. "'M almost done, okay?" 
"How close is ‘almost’?" 
His smile only widened at her line of questioning. (Y/N) mimicked that look without a thought. 
"About five minutes. Can you wait that long?" 
"I'll try." She couldn't help the pout that took her features. She had told him she was hungry what felt like hours ago, and she still was waiting for food. He wouldn't even let her help either, but she could argue that she would have eaten already if he just let her follow him to the kitchen.
Raising his brows, Harry fixed his attention back on the television screen. "Oh, look. The little cat is back, baby." 
(Y/N)'s attention took a one-eighty as she did the same to face the TV once more. Harry was right, the kitten was back on screen. She didn't want to miss this. 
The high had hit her at full force only minutes after Harry had taken her inside, setting off a firing squad of so many different feelings (Y/N) had never experienced before. She had so much energy, but at the same time she wanted to sleep. She wanted to kiss and hold her boyfriend, but also had to make a point to remember where her limbs were. She wanted to eat and drink as much water as she could, but couldn't find the attention to do either of those things. In the back of her mind, she even debated on writing some for the course paper she needed to work on before the midterm exam next month—her mind swirling with ideas, but they were all out of order. 
How she decided on watching a movie instead of any of her other raucous ideas, she wasn't sure, but she was happy with the choice. This way, she was able to wrap up in the soft pink throw blanket that she left in his bedroom, sink into the new feeling, and make out with Harry when he was done cooking.
(It had really been Harry's prompting and prodding that led her to the conclusion that yes, she wanted to watch a movie and cuddle up with him while she ate, but he was happy with letting her assume it had been her own choice).
Time moved in mysterious ways since the high had hit, making it hard to decipher if it had been five hours or mere five minutes before Harry came to her with bowls of pasta and a buttery warm sauce poured over top. 
"That looks so good, H," she bubbled, overjoyed at the sight of food, "Thank you so much!" 
"You're welcome, baby," he smiled, "Do you need more water?" 
"No, just—Hold on." (Y/N) stumbled over her words, organizing her thoughts as steadily as she could and ultimately failing in favor of reaching towards Harry.
The second he settled into the cushion at her side, she had his jaw cradled in her palms, lips puckered and pressed against the corner of his mouth. A laugh bubbled through his lips, his smile felt under her kiss. 
"I missed," she laughed along with him, pulling away to watch his eyes light up and creases form around his smile, "Sorry." 
"'S alright," he beamed, cheeks still cradled in her palms, "Jus' slow down and try again." 
Though she didn't exactly have the wherewithal to follow his directions, she definitely tried her best. This time, she felt as if she went slower as she leaned in, pressing her lips to Harry's. He reciprocated her affection in soft kisses, (Y/N) melting the longer she reveled in his touch.
Her skin practically sang everywhere he touched her, taking her back to her wonderings of if there would be something extra to their affection while under the influence. That prickling that she had felt in her limbs just when the smoke started taking effect, now only occurred when he ran his fingertips over her skin or held her hand in his. The buzzing made her smile into the kiss, the pinpoint tickling under her skin.
"What's got you so smiley, hm?" Harry asked against her mouth, pulling away despite the tender hold she had on his cheeks. 
She beamed up at him with an easy grin, a rose colored glaze over her vision of him. "I just like touching you," she told him, "It tickles." 
He raised his brows in reaction, biting back a smile. "It tickles?" 
Watching the clear amusement on his face, (Y/N) couldn't help her own smile from turning into bubbling laughter. "Uh-huh," she barely answered, everything else dissolving around her laughter. 
"Now, why are you laughing?" 
Harry's investigation only proved to make the entire moment funnier to (Y/N) as she doubled over. Snuggling into his chest, she clung to him with her laughter muffled against his shoulder. "I don't know," she giggled, barely sure that the words even left her brain. 
"Oh, lovebug," he crooned, wrapping his arms around her, "What am I going to do with you?" 
A contented smile landed on (Y/N)'s features as she settled down. She burrowed against him, smushing her cheek on his shoulder and bundling her arms between their bodies. "Love me." 
The tip of Harry's nose skimmed the top of her head. "I already do that," he told her, words fanning across the strands of hair crowning her. 
"I love you too," (Y/N) answered simply. 
The cryptic sense of time she held struck once again when Harry drew away from her. Her body had relaxed into his as if she had napped on him for hours, but she could have been nestled in his arms for a max of three minutes for all she knew. 
"Are y'still hungry? Or do y'want me to save your noodles for later?" 
With that, (Y/N) swore her mind had been blown. "You brought me food, I totally forgot!" Twirling too fast for her brain to keep up, she was almost dizzy by the time she saw the bowl of pasta Harry had set in front of her, complete with salty cheese layered on top just like she asked. "That looks so good, H! Thank you." 
Harry gave her a small smile. "You're welcome, baby." 
A minute sense of deja vu niggled in the back of her head for just a second, but (Y/N) chose to ignore it in favor of twirling her fork through the spaghetti noodles.  
Had cheese always tasted this good? 
—————
"Harry, are you listening? This song is beautiful." 
"I know, love. 'S perfect, huh?" 
The drawl of Harry's response had (Y/N) peeking up at him. She found him lying with his eyes closed, mouth parted in a small gape, though his hand on her back never slowed the soothing circle he had curated.
"Are you tired?" (Y/N) whispered. 
A slight smile touched the corner of his mouth at her question. "A little. Are you?" 
(Y/N) paused, evaluating herself to give him an honest answer. "Yeah. A little." His heartbeat was set to a soothing pace under her ear, slowing into a steady rhythm as if urging him to sleep. "Are you almost asleep?" 
Though she could see his eyes were closed and his breathing was coming in soft puffs, Harry didn't slack on the duties he had taken on for the night. Since pulling her to bed and setting a playlist to softly sing through his bedroom, he had kept his cuddling hold on her firm and anchoring. He answered her every time she spoke to him and even crawled his way to the bedside table to skip the song whenever she started to whine over the melody. 
"A little," he smiled, his voice a deep rumble, "Are you?"
Another pause. "Maybe," (Y/N) answered honestly. She could fall asleep right now if she wanted, but she also wanted to keep listening to music. 
Harry hummed, his chest vibrating under her cheek. "Is there anything y'want before y'get sleepy? More water or a snack?" 
What did she need before she could peacefully fall asleep? 
Blinking her gaze up at him, she took in the tip of his nose, the curving pillow of his cupid's bow and the creamy texture of his skin. 
"A kiss? Please?" 
At that, Harry cracked his eyes open to peer down at her. "Y'haven't had enough of those yet?" 
"Never," she answered, completely honest. Harry still plucked a smile onto his lips at her response. 
"Can't blame you, darling—me neither." 
Shifting between the sheets, Harry used his free hand to cup (Y/N) cheek and tip her chin as he dipped down. He sealed his lips over hers in a loving kiss, nothing more than a soft pressing of their lips. She swore she could feel every ridge, every dip, every plane of his touch, catalogued to her memory though she hoped she would recall it in less fuzzy detail. 
"Love you," she murmured between breaths, immediately planting her lips across his once more. 
Harry smiled into the contact. He broke the rhythm of her kisses even further when he drew away, ignoring the way she chased after him with a craned neck and puckered lips.
"I love you too, lovebug." His eyes scanned over her features not for the first time that night, though something softened in his gaze. "You had a good time tonight?"
Walking through the lavender veiled events, everything was just a bit hazy and herbal, (Y/N)'s smile only grew. 
"Uh-huh," she beamed up at him, feeling herself settle into him that much more, "Thank you for showing me." 
Thumbing at the height of her cheekbone, Harry surged forward to press a delicate kiss to the bridge of her nose. "'M happy y'feel good, darling. That's all I want when we try new things." 
"I'm always happy when I'm with you." 
(Y/N) blinked as she saw his face light up with a bubbly smile, creases appearing by his eyes, dimples thumbed into his cheeks, and a slight flush over his nose. 
Had his smile always been that pretty?
—————
eeeek! so happy I could get a new aster blurb out for everyone this year! thank u sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and lmk if yu have any ideas for anything you'd like to see!
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bookished · 4 months ago
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( a collection of fun and adventurous dialogue prompts. adjust phrasing as necessary.) feel free to make edits to better suit your muse, but please don’t edit or add on to the original post <𝟑 if you like, please consider supporting me through tips, it's highly appreciated.
"Want to try sneaking into the movie theater?"
"There's this exclusive sky bar on the top floor. I bet if we act confident enough, we could just walk right in. Ready to blend in with the high rollers?"
"You know the 'Staff Only' areas in aquariums always look so intriguing. I've got an idea involving lab coats and clipboards. Interested?"
"There's a secret passage in this art gallery that leads to a hidden exhibit. I overheard the curator talking about it. Shall we go exploring?"
"I've always wanted to see a movie from the theater's projection room. I've got a friend who works here – you get what I mean?"
"So, that exclusive restaurant is fully booked for months, but I may have 'borrowed' a couple of names from the reservation list. Feeling adventurous?"
"The old amusement park's been closed for years, but I know a way in. Imagine having all those rides to ourselves under the moonlight."
"I heard there's an underground speakeasy in this library. Apparently, you need to whisper a password to the librarian. Wanna try our luck?"
"Remember that fancy pool party we weren't invited to? I've got two waiter uniforms and a brilliant plan. You in?"
"There's a secret rooftop garden on top of that skyscraper. I bet we could talk our way past security if we pretend to be lost interns."
"I know this sounds crazy, but I found a hidden door behind the museum. Want to see where it leads after closing time?"
"The local TV station does live broadcasts from that studio. I bet with the right timing, we could sneak onto a set during a commercial break. Ready for your 15 seconds of fame?"
"I discovered a hidden hot spring in the woods just outside town. It's a bit of a hike, but imagine a midnight dip under the stars."
"There's a secret room in the library that's usually locked. I copied the key while volunteering. Want to see what forbidden books they're hiding?"
"Remember that fancy cooking class that was full? Well, I may have found a way for us to observe from the kitchen's back entrance. Hungry for some culinary espionage?"
"I know how to get onto the roof of the tallest building downtown. The view of the sunset from up there is incredible. Shall we?"
"There's a masquerade ball at the governor's mansion tonight. I've got two masks and a wild idea. Care to crash a high-society party?"
"My friend works at the zoo and says we could help feed the penguins after closing time. Interested in a secret animal encounter?"
"I heard this old theater is supposedly haunted. Want to sneak in after hours and do some ghost hunting?"
"There's a secret beach hidden behind those cliffs. The catch? We'll have to climb down a rope ladder to reach it. You up for it?"
"I found an old map of the city's underground tunnels. Fancy a subterranean adventure date?"
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saltwaterburns · 14 days ago
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hellooooo would you consider elaborating on your thoughts about Dick & biting... doesn't have to be a fic written post but ough. I wanna hear your thoughts about marking him up, how he reacts, etc.
I feel like biting any part of Dick is the equivalent to picking up a kitten by its scruff and watching it go absolutely limp and pliant in your hand. Dick is a peacock in human form, always flashing his pretty smile and pretty eyes, his pink lips pulled into a sultry pout, his black curls like a halo atop his head. But the second he feels your canines dig into his soft, supple flesh he starts singing like a (pretty) bird, all gasps and airy pleas of "Again, please." The pain of it is absolutely exhilarating to him. The dull ache that within a moment manages to turn into hellfire, all his muscles tensing that in return knock the air out of his lungs and make the bite hurt more; the sweet release of your teeth letting his skin go and the now pleasurable ache that throbs beneath his skin.
Let's not mention him getting off to all the purple-blue-yellow-green splotches that cover his body a few days later. He's standing in front of a tall mirror in all his naked glory, transfixed by all the colourful bruises on his skin, his hand slowly working on his cock. He presses down on a set of teeth marks inside his thigh and comes with a long, drawn out whine of pain, his stomach clenching as he paints his fist white.
There's also something extremely erotic about him feeling those said bites underneath his Nightwing suit each night he patrols - both a sweet reminder of you to go home to and a reminder of your teeth digging into his bicep two days earlier. He snaps out of his thoughts when gunshots are heard a few blocks away and grapples there with pink dusting his cheeks.
Now, that's you biting him. I wholeheartedly believe he bites you back.
Okay, not bites. Nips. He nips at you like a playful dog wanting to play catch. He nips at your fingers, your cheeks, your nose. He loves biting down on your bottom lip and pulling it down, a self pleased smirk on his face. He likes to nip at your jaw whenever he peppers you with kisses, but he usually doesn't go anywhere near your neck. He likes to take his time there, suck the flesh between his lips and hold, letting go with a soft "Pop!", admiring the now bright purple spot on the side of your neck, too high to be covered by clothing. Your neck is his canvas and you are his muse.
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