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tomtenadia · 3 years

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My warrior queen

Rowaelin month day 7 - Fairytale AU

So, this is a bit a strange fairytale. I am not a fan of Disney style princesses so I went for something different. I wasn’t even going to write this prompt but then inspiration hit and honestly I had to rein it in because otherwise this was going to be a 10k words one shot.

To be honest I am not even sure if it follows the prompt but here you go...

I hope you will enjoy it.

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In the northern part of Erilea there stood a land of unforgiving winters and majestic mountains. The place was called Terrasen and it was ruled by a queen. Her name was Aelin Ashryver Galathynius. It was rumoured that she was the most stunning woman in the whole continent and that she had a long line of suitors trying to win her hand. So far, no man had ever accomplished the task. No one seemed to be a match enough for the fiery woman. She had standards, very high apparently and rumour had it that she rejected many potential rich men from other kingdoms as soon as they mentioned they would cover her in gold, lavish dresses and fine jewellery.

She liked her luxury, fine dresses and jewellery, but she if she had to settle down she would not to do that with a man who would treat her like a prize to show around at parties.

No, she was looking for a man who treated her as an equal, and was not scared of a woman who could defend herself and have a high skilled competence with knives, swords and bows.

Far too many men had been horrified by her past times.

Tough. She was not going to give that up, because they thought it was very un-lady like. Screw it. She was the queen.

It was a balmy afternoon and she was in the training yard with her sword master Brullo, practicing her sword skills, when Ress, one of her guards interrupted them. At his side stood a tall man with silver hair and clothed in a dark green cloak. The stranger was broad-shouldered and incredibly tall. Definitely close to 2m. His eyes were a beautiful pine green and the man emanated a certain air of danger. She could tell he was a born and bred warrior and that sparring with him might be quite amazing if he accepted. A rival with a challenge. Brullo was skilled but she had a feeling he was not pushing her as much he could just because she was the queen. Truth was, she wanted to be pushed to the limit. Wanted a sparring partner who ignored her title and just treated her as an equal warrior.

“Your majesty,” said Ress, kneeling in front of her “I present you with your new captain of the guard.”

Aelin sheathed her sword at her side and took a step closer, circling around the new arrived and taking stock of his frame.

“What’s your name, captain?”

“Rowan Whitethorn, ma’am.”

A gasp surged from both Brullo and Ress for the lack of use of her title, but Aelin smirked, loving that already. Maybe he was the one.

“Ress told me you come highly recommended.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“She is your queen,” shouted Brullo from behind her “show some respect, you oaf.”

Aelin turned and glared at her master at arms.

“Brullo, Ress, leave me alone with the captain.” Not a request but an order.

“Yes, your majesty.” They both bowed and walked away.

Aelin grinned then once they were gone sat on the edge of the fence and grabbed the knife she kept on her thigh and started peeling her apple “you must excuse them. Brullo might kill in the name of lèse-majesté.” She explained, taking a bite of her fruit, “I would just recommend you to use my title in public. When we are alone and in training you can call me ma’am or Aelin.” She stared at him and saw surprise in his stark features “in training? I am your captain of the guard, ma’am.”

She got off the fence and walked to him, flipping the knife in her hands and Rowan approved of her skills. Maybe that assignment would not suck as he feared. It looked like he did not have to guard a weak queen who mostly used him as an errand boy, but one that appeared fierce and capable of handling a sword probably just as much as him.

“I know, captain, but I am looking for a sparring partner who would actually present a challenge. One who is not afraid of inflicting a few bruises to his queen. Brullo is good but he holds back a bit too much for my tastes.” She looked up at him, meeting his green eyes. Gods, the man was stunning as well.

“As long as you promise not to put me in irons if I scratch your esteemed highness.” His eyes glinted with mirth and she laughed hard.

She walked away and then turned and threw her knife at him.

Rowan grabbed it with a very easy gesture.

Gods, he was all of a sudden drawn to her. She threw a knife at him and his male nature found the gesture a turn on. He could not deny that the queen in front of him was stunning, probably the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

“Good reflexes,” then she threw the apple, Rowan grabbed it and took a bite, never averting his gaze.

“Meet me here tomorrow at nine, captain.” And she walked away swaying her hips on purpose.

Rowan looked at her walk away and thought that his new assignment was not bad after all.

Back in her quarters, Aelin shed her boots and started removing all the weapons stashed on her body.

“Do you really need all that metal on you?” Asked a voice at her back. Aelin turned and saw Lysandra, her lady in waiting.

“You never know who is ready to attack you on the streets, I need to be ready to defend myself.”

And threw a few knives on the bed.

“Maybe if you actually stopped wandering around Orynth on you own and used your guards? They are here to protect you, you know? That’s why you pay them.”

Aelin shedded her fighting leathers and remained in her undergarments while Lysandra held out one of those horrible gowns she hated so much.

“And where’s the fun in that?”

“You are the Queen.”

Aelin rolled her eyes. She loved Lysandra like a sister but the woman was a proper lady and had been trying for years to teach Aelin to be less wild and more approachable to men. As the queen it was expected of her to marry and then sire heirs to the throne. She had no patience for all that crap.

“Rumour has it that your new captain of the guard is quite hot.” Lysandra tied the corset and Aelin whimpered at the damn cage “Elide has seen him with Ress.”

“Hopefully he is not scared of sparring with me like a true warrior.”

Lysandra was about to reply but Aelin lifted a finger “I don’t care.” And walked away. Ready spend another afternoon in a tedious council meeting.

The next morning she almost ran to the training grounds. Once at the site she noticed Rowan was already there, sitting on the ground and sharpening his sword. He had trousers tucked in his high boots and a white shirt with the first three buttons open. The sleeves were rolled to the elbows and a stunning tattoo in the old language swirled around his left arm and she could notice a hint of it on his chest as well, from the opening in his shirt. She stood in silence staring at his powerful arms running the wet stone on the length of the sword and her treacherous mind pictured those powerful hands on her body.

She cleared her voice and saw Rowan raised his head “Good, you are here.” In a powerful move he stood.

“So, captain. Where do we start this morning?”

“We’ll do some conditioning to strengthen your muscles a bit, then we can choose sword or knives. The choice is yours.”

In private he did as she had told him and didn’t use any title and she was grateful for that.

“I’ll take the sword.”

For the first hour he put her through a gruelling series of exercises that, according to him, would reinforce the muscles in her arms, her core and her legs. She was not a frail lady. After years of training she had build her body to be quite toned and alethic but apparently she could do a bit better.

“Good, take a break.” He sat at her side and she drank from her canteen.

“So, how did you end up here in Terrasen?”

He looked at her quizzically.

“Your accent. You are definitely not from here. Wendlyn, perhaps?”

Rowan nodded “Born and bred in Doranelle.”

“I visited a few times. Very hot place.” She looked at him “why Terrasen?”

He was silent for a moment as if to ponder his answer “I needed a change of scenery. I have been here a few years already. Mostly worked as a hired guard for some rich lords. Then I saw that the palace was looking for a new captain of the guard and here I am.”

Aelin knew there was more to the story, but she didn’t push.

“Let’s go, captain.” She said standing up again “show me how to fight like a real warrior.”

And Rowan did not hold back. For over an hour they trained relentlessly and Aelin was now sporting some cuts on her arms, a bruise and a limp from when she slipped on the ground after Rowan disarmed her for the umpteenth time. She realised at the end of the session that she was not even remotely skilled as she thought.

“We better stop here for today.”

“No,” she grunted, still sitting on the cold ground exhausted.

“Aelin,” and the way he said her name made her heart race “You need to rest for the day and have a healer see to those cuts.”

“Thank you for not holding back, for not treating me as if I was made of glass.”

Rowan placed his hand on her shoulder to steady her as she tried to stand, when a jolt went through both at the contact.

Their heads snapped up in surprise and their gaze met.

Aelin’s heart started to race madly. What had just happened? Was that the bond? She heard about that. All the girls dreamed of eventually find their mate, to look a man in the eye and feel the bond snap into place. She thought it was just a kids fairytale but as she looked at Rowan’s expression she knew he was thinking about the same thing.

They were mates.

He was her mate and she was his.

As she limped back to her quarters she could not stop thinking about what had happened with Rowan. How was that possible? And how was she going to solve that? According to the stories, once the bond was in place it was difficult to resist and painful to ignore, but what if Rowan didn’t want to be her mate? He’d be tied to a queen, making him king consort. It was far too much to force on someone. It was in moment like this in which she wished her mum was still alive. She’d need her support right now.

“Your majesty, what happened to you?” Said a horrified voice at her back. She turned and saw Chaol, one of her guards.

“Oh, I had an amazing training session with the captan.”

She saw disgust in his face “did he hurt you?”

Aelin rolled her eyes “No, well technically yes, but we were training so it’s okay.”

“You are the queen. He cannot treat you like that.”

Aelin was fuming when a familiar figure joined them in the courtyard.

Chaol drew his sword, pointing it at Rowan’s throat and Aelin felt a surge of rage in her “Put the sword down.” She commanded.

“Majesty, he hurt you.”

“It’s called training,” said Rowan, moving Chaol’s sword aside in a bored gesture. His eyes on hers, ignoring the man in front of him.

“She is your queen.”

“She gave me an order. I followed it. If she wants to punish me for hurting her during training I will take anything she will inflict upon me. Until that moment I would order you, as your captain, to go back to you patrol, or I’ll have you scrub the stables.”

Chaol stormed away back to his post and Rowan and Aelin remained alone.

“Rowan, we should talk—” he shook his head.

“Not here.”

Aelin nodded “let’s go to my library. No one is allowed in there. We will have privacy.”

He followed her and once in the room she locked the door for good measure and then collapsed on the sofa exhausted.

Rowan looked around the room and stared amazed and the astounding collection of books. The bookcases where floor to ceiling high and there must have been thousands of books.

“The perks of being the queen. I have unlimited funds to gave in in my obsession for books.” Then he turned and saw a piano against the window “do you play?”

Aelin nodded and he moved a step back in her direction “Rowan…”

“We are mates.” He said in a gentle tone that disarmed her.

“You don’t have to…” she had no idea how to tackle the issue “Rowan, I will not force you into something you don’t want.” She sighed “I thought it was just a fairytale mothers spun to their daughters before bed. But I felt it. The power of the bond, curse through me when you touched me.” She stood and took a step to him “and when Chaol had his sword at your throat I was ready to rip his head off if he touched you.”

“Aelin, it’s up to you, I am your subject and if you decide to follow the bond I will not reject you.”

She looked at him and for an instant she had a glimpse of another Rowan, one that under the warrior face was in fact a loving and caring man. Her heart ached. She could not force something on him that he didn’t want.

Rowan went on his knees in front of her and bowed his head “If I accept the bond I will be your king consort.” He looked up at her “I am just a warrior, with no power or gold to offer or alliances. Accepting me would be a very bad move for a queen. I have nothing to offer you.”

Aelin kneeled in front of him and took his face in her hands “For the first time, I found a man who is willing to fight me like a warrior. A man who treats me like an equal, something I have been searching for a very long time. A man who is not afraid of me or who does not feel the need to tame my wild side. You are that man, Rowan.” She caressed the stark lines of his face, the gesture feeling natural all of a sudden “It’s your decision. Not a command from a queen.”

“It would be political suicide.”

She laughed “you let me deal with the council and the politicians. It’s my life. And I think my citizens might like the idea that I choose one of them as their king.”

Rowan nodded.

“This is new, for both of us. We barely know each other, but if you want I would like to get to know you better.”

“It’d be my honour, my queen.”

She smiled at him “but we are not stopping my training. I am not giving up on that. You keep your territorial male nonsense at bay.”

He nodded and Aelin kissed his forehead “thank you, captain.”

Two weeks had passed and Aelin had continued her life as normal. Rowan had been true to his words and kept training with her and she realised that under his supervision her skills were improving, to the point that once she had even managed to disarm him. She had celebrated by jumping into his arms for a hug. One that he did not deny her.

They had also started to spend time alone in the library and learn about each other. He had told her the real reason why he moved. A raid had attacked Doranelle, setting the city on fire. He was not quick enough and his family died in the huge fire and some of his friends too. So he had decided to help for a while, but as soon as the worst was over he had left Doranelle.

Aelin had heard about the raid. She had contacted the royal family there and offered her help, but they had been proud and replied with a no thank you.

Slowly they had also been getting closer, feeling the bond between them getting stronger with each passing day. And with it its side effects.

Aelin one day had almost put a woman called Remelle in irons when she saw her flirting with Rowan while he was guarding the throne room. He had ignored her but Aelin had felt jealousy spread like a wildfire. Through the bond she felt the same from him during a meeting in the throne room. As captain of the guard he was at her side on the throne and he had to suffer through a parade of men walking to Aelin and promising her riches beyond imagination and power.

You’d better look interested he had mused through the bond. A nifty trick that had appeared very recently.

I am disappointed that no one so far had offered me a unicorn

Aelin threw a sneaky glance at Rowan and saw him fighting the smirk threatening to appear on his face.

She tried not to smile either, it was not polite.

They hadn’t told anything to anyone about them being mates. It was all still too new and they needed time to adjust, so she had to suffer the tedious courtship from men who were as interesting as a bowl of broth with no salt. But they had decided to tell soon. The solstice ball was almost upon them and she was going to announce that she had found her mate and that all other men could just fuck off for all she cared. Her council was going to kill her, but she couldn’t care less. Rowan was her mate and even if they hadn’t even kissed or been intimate, she could not deny how strong the pull between them was becoming. Even being away from him was getting hard.

While she left the throne room, Rowan stepped at her side, taking his place as he usually did. Two more guards were trailing behind them at a distance.

“Are you getting me my unicorn, captain?”

“I’d do everything in my power to make you happy, but I think they really are a legend.”

“Everything?” She looked at him with a wicked grin “well, I need more training, captain. And it’s an order.”

She said the last sentence out loud and Chaol looked at them in disappointment. Her guards and maids had not appreciated the marks that training left on her. Lysandra complaining that a lady should not turn up for court with a bandaged arm and a limp.

Aelin ignored the protests relentlessly.

During training Rowan never gave her special treatment. Not even now that they were mates and she respected him so much for that.

They had been training with knives and close contact when she did manage to win an encounter and Rowan lost his balance and they both tumbled on the ground. Aelin on top of him. Her face had smashed on his chest and she inhaled sharply his scent of pine and snow. Rowan smelled like home, like Terrasen. She looked up at him and his expression was curious. That was the closest they had ever been. Rowan had been a proper gentleman and always been respectful of her, especially when alone in the library.

But now… now she wanted him to grab her in his arms, rip off her clothes and make her forget her name.

Some of her thoughts must have trickled through the bond because his stare grew lustful. Her eyes landed on his lips and a moment later he was kissing her. And rutting gods, she almost combusted on the spot. The kiss was not gentle, she could taste the desire in him. Aelin’s hand were in his hair and pulled him closer and felt his arms tighten around her back.

Rowan had tried to be respectful and not to give in to the instinct that had slowly been taking over him recently. With the passing of days the bond between them had become much stronger and he found himself needing her. To wake up in the middle her smelling lemon verbena and feeling an insane need for her. He knew that was the downside of a new mating bond. It would drive him insane until he could finally claim her. But he would not rush her.

He was still of the opinion that he was her worst choice, he had tried again to convince her that choosing him was a political mistake. That as queen she should think about alliances. But Aelin had always refused to listen, saying that she was not going to marry a stranger just for the sake of an alliance. She was not a romantic and kept repeating her that they were mates and the council could not stop that. She had told him of her plan of announcing their bind at the solstice ball. The idea scared him but he would follow her.

***

Solstice was upon them and the castle was buzzing for the celebrations. The guests had started to arrive and to gather in the ballroom.

Rowan was posted outside Aelin’s quarters, ready to escort her to the ballroom.

Two weeks had gone by since they kissed on the training grounds and since then they had been barely able to keep their hands off each other when they were alone.

Rowan would go as far as to admit that feelings had started to develop for her. Deep, strong feelings.

“So, who is going to be at your arm tonight at the ball?” Asked Lysandra while dressing Aelin. She had chosen a deep green gown with laces in silver to match Terrasen colours. Her hair was tied in a braid that was then tied in a complicated fashion on her head. And on top of it her tiara. She was not going to a ball with her crown. At her neck Lysandra had clasped a necklace with a pendant a kingsflame. Her mother had left that for her and Aelin would wear it on special occasions.

“It’s a surprise,” replied Aelin with a wicked grin. She had managed to convince Rowan to agree to dance with her.

“Oh, is it one of the lords?”

“Are you going with Aedion?” She changed the topic.

“Yes, as soon as you are ready I will join him. If you are okay.”

Aelin turned and hugged her friend “of course. I want you to enjoy the evening and if you end up spending the night in Aedion’s quarters I will not complain.”

Lysandra blushed “you are ready.”

Aelin stared at her image in the mirror and was looking forward to Rowan’s reaction.

Rowan heard the door open and jumped to attention, then saw Aelin step away from the big doors and he was sure his heart stopped for a moment. Her gown matched his uniform in shade of green. She was stunning, she was the most perfect creature he had ever set eyes on.

Stop staring, captain. We need to maintain the ruse a bit longer.

Rowan looked at her and nodded briefly “shall we go, my queen? Your court awaits you.”

While they walked she could see Rowan scanning the area “relax, captain.”

“Aelin, my job is to keep you safe. Both as your mate and your captain. And might I say that your idea of inviting the citizens to the festivities is a dangerous one?”

Aelin sighed. He had raised his concerns every single day since she had explained to him the tradition. On the solstice the castle had always been open to everyone. The ground would host a fair with vendor and some stalls. The ballroom and the banquet hall were the only two room open to everyone. She had explained that her father had started the tradition and that the solstice was a big thing in Terrasen and she had continued such celebrations as a legacy to the late king.

Rowan had yielded but she could feel he was nervous.

“Have you given your guards rotations so they can enjoy the festivities as well?”

He nodded “and I told the vendor selling alcohol that they are not allowed to sell it to any of the guards. If they do I’ll take their licence.”

At the door of the ballroom he saw Chaol and Ress and Rowan nodded to them and the two men opened the doors.

The ballroom was incredible. Metres and metres of fairy light adorned the walls instead of the big candelabra. Snowflake shaped decorations hung from the ceiling and spruce and holly adorned the big windows.

Aelin stepped inside and everyone pulled aside and bowed. In the crowd she spotted aristocracy and citizens alike.

Once in the centre of the ballroom she turned and Rowan stepped at her side. Hands behind his back and back straight.

He was nervous. His life was about to change but as he looked at her smiling at her people, he realised that if his life had her in it, maybe it wasn’t going to be so scary after all.

Aelin stared at all the people gathered around her and tried so hard not to stare too hard at Rowan. He had his uniform of captain of the guard, the one reserved for special occasions. The deep green of the fabric matching his eyes and the silver of the trimmings at the hem accompanied his hair. He was stunning.

No improper thoughts, my queen.” He told her, sensing where her mind had wandered.

As if you restrained yours a few minutes ago when you saw me. I must admit that the sparring room surrounded by weapons is a massive turn on.

Rowan cleared his voice at her side and she tried not to laugh.

“Good evening dear citizens of Terrasen and thank you for joining us tonight for this solstice celebrations. Like every year we follow the tradition started by my father and gather all together here and have fun. This year, however I have a special announcement that I hope will make this day a bit more special.” She then spoke and noticed her council member look at her with a puzzled expression. Lysandra was holding Aedion’s hand and looked curious. Her cousin was downright terrified.

I am at your side was all that Rowan said through the bond.

“I want to use this night of festivities to announce that I have found my mate.” A chorus of gasps echoed in the room.

Aelin took Rowan’s hand and pulled him closer to her side “Captain Rowan Whitethorn is my mate. We have accepted the bond a few days ago.”

They had discussed the whole thing in the library. Both had confessed that feeling were starting to appear. The attraction was definitely there and Aelin had confessed that the idea of not having him at her side pained her. Rowan had made the same admission. She then had explained to him that if he was going to accept the bond he’d become king consort and he’d have to drop his job as captain of the guard. Rowan had accepted with the condition that she would keep on training with him. Aelin had, of course, accepted. And after that they had officially accepted the bond and that night he had claimed her and she claimed him, body and soul. They were now one and there was nothing separating them.

“My queen,” said Darrow, the head of her council, bowing to her “you should have consulted the council before making such an important decision. Also, may I suggest that the captain might not be the most suitable candidate?”

Aelin was raging, but as queen she had learned to restrain her wild side. In public, at least.

“Darrow, thank you for your concern but this is my life. Who I choose as my king consort it’s not your concern. I told you all before, I will not be sold in marriage for the sake of an alliance. Rowan is my mate. You cannot ignore the bond.” Aelin looked at Lysandra and saw that the woman was sobbing happily.

Then cheers erupted from the crowd, the common citizens, the ones who approved their queen choosing one of them.

“All hail the queen,” shouted one of them “all hail the king,” chanted another one and slowly everyone joined in, Lys and Aedion included. Her councilmen were the only ones who stood silent. Oh well, that was a battle for another day.

Rowan went to his knee and took her hands, bowing his head at the same time “my queen, I have no riches, no power, no land to offer you. All I can give you is my loyalty and my love. Until my last day. To whatever end.” He recited out loud for everyone to hear.

Aelin squeezed his hand and pulled him up. They were equals, something she had told him over and over again. She would not allow him to bow to her or to feel diminished. He was her world.

“To whatever end .” She whispered back while holding his face and kissing him deeply in front of everyone.

Her buzzard.

Her equal.

Her friend.

Her mate.

#rowaelinmonth #day 7 #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #rowaelin #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

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Okay rockstars, settle down

rockstar!bucky barnes x assistant!reader x rockstar!loki laufeyson / masterlist

summary; having previously worked for loki, it causes a heat to burn within bucky’s already accumulated hate towards the musician / warnings; threesome, smut, mxf and mxm sex, mentions of sex with other characters, oral sex (male and female receiving), creampie, unprotected sex, double penetration, degradation, swearing, orgasm denial, cum eating

“Can’t believe you worked for that wanker.” Snarked Bucky as an image of the well known, musically spread, and acoustically acclaimed, Loki Laufeyson was shown on the screen of the dressing room television, as the other artist stretched his clothing bare arms across the back of the couch. “Come here sweet cheeks.”

At his command, you dismissed the paper work for a moment, trailing over and straddling the inked hunk’s chain belted lap, digging your manicured set of nails into his shoulders, as you seated yourself over his crotch. “I’m happy I work for you now Buck, you treat me so good.”

Punctuating your words, you pressed your teeth into your bottom lip, giving it the appearance of being more plump, as you batted your dark eyelashes up at your employer. “I do, don’t I?” He rhetorically asked, skimming his fingers across the length of your arms, before moving them to sloppily cup your jaw, ensuring that you would not look away from his wild and dilated pupils. “Tell me what I do better than the lead singer of the god of mischief.”

At his words, a small yet peaceful contortion of uncomfortableness split a skin grafted line through the centre of your forehead, stating that you had no wish to do so. And thus, as punishment for your self aversive silence, Barnes braced his knuckles into your skin, causing you to keen out, and tap his shoulders in verification for surrender.

In turn, you lowered your hands, dragging the tips of your nails, absentmindedly running them down the expanse of his waxed chest, conveniently passing the silver hoops that were attached to his nipples on the trail to a less dominant ground. “I prefer the way that your songs have a heavier bass and-“

“Uh uh uh, not the music. Think of something that has you, let’s say, screaming, but definitely not in a crowd. Though, we may have to try that one sometime; show the world how hungry you are to assist me.”

“You, James Bucky Barnes,” he loosened his grip to your relief, which lead to you hugging in spite, “are the best fuck I have ever endured. Loki has nothing on you, he deems himself a god of the arts, but he doesn’t see how you paint me so perfectly with your cum, nor how you bend my body to your whim, as though I am a tool in the midst of your creations, useful, but disposable.”

“I like the sound of that doll. Disposable, now that really does you make you sound like my personal cum dump.”

“That’s was certainly interesting to listen to...”that voice had your body jolting in shock, and it appeared that Bucky too was surprised by the presence, though, he steadied his well versed hands on your hips, claiming you to the intimate spot.

“What the fuck are you doing in my dressing room you greasy haired weasel?” Bucky sneered, his nose turning up at the sight alone of his competition in the lyrical world. Loki, he had graced you with his presence, and you had to look away; he admittedly looked good.

His shirt was open chested, leaving you with the memorable impression of all the times that you had left crescent marks upon that particular surface, a few times you had even drawn blood, but that had only fuelled his mission to fuck you into a propeller of urgency.

“Our new album Laufey has just been released, I can confirm my dear, you shoulda stayed around and knelt in our success. The records are certainly going to have more sales than what was it called again? Ah yes, the red star. I could tell it was about this one, so much passion, a sultry tune, that did little to justify what it means to be with her.”

Loki’s hands waved around as he spoke, and you could only picture the past whence he penetrated your with those long and talented fingers of his. He had drawn orgasm after orgasm out of you, resulting you to be nothing more than a withering mess, as he digressed the option to simply stop. There was nothing simple about him, nor the time that he demanded that he shared you with his brother.

That thought alone had you mindlessly grinding upon Bucky’s covered cock, plucking at your lip with the keys of your teeth, though Bucky’s voice brought you back to reality, causing you to pause your movements embarrassingly, venting a clear out of your head to process the situation that was before you. The two were bickering like two teenage girls, and it was quite exhausting to listen to.

“Answer the question trickster, else I’ll have you fed to the infamous black panther, and let’s just say that he is the best bodyguard I have ever hired. So, are you going to speak, or will I have you dragged out of here like a damned serpent with a noose around its neck?” Bucky threatened, gritting his teeth together, his nose straining in frustration, drawing more attention to the small stud on the right side of his nose.

“Looks like she needs me Barnes, perhaps your reputation does not proceed you. But to answer in full, my band have made quite the rise, and I thought it would be... fitting to pay you a visit. Though I had no idea that this wonderful woman would be here, pining on your lap like some feline in heat. I see she’s fucking you now, after all my suspicions are never wrong. Or we’ll, Heimdall’s train of thought always ends up at the right station.”

“Can the pair of you stop, for one goddamn minute!” Your hands obscured a path into your hair, as you glared back and forth between the pair of rival rockstars. “I am here, dammit! Stop talking about me as though I am not here, a part of me wishes that I wasn’t so I didn’t have to listen to your bitching.”

Without any thought, you clambered from your perch on Bucky’s lap, walking towards the raven haired gentleman, pointing your finger in his face as you accused him. “You’ve got your point across, but I’ll tell you something. If you don’t leave, Heimdall will see me putting my foot up your ass.”

“Does she speak to you like this Barnes? I thought she had loosened up in more ways than one when I allowed Thor to stretch her cunt, but it appears that that mouth of hers has gotten a little out of hand also. You should do something about that, or else you’ll lose her to someone else like a did. Who knows, could be Romanoff, heard she has a thing for brats.”

Natasha Romanoff, a diverse woman in her ways and songs. She was the queen of the rock culture, tormenting her workers with her verbal abuse and it would undoubtedly be no different for her assistant. If you were to be under her employment, it was certain that you would not get out alive, nor work for another talented person for the rest of your life. To cross her, was a vow to sign your own death certificate, it was plain stupidity, yet people still hustled with her and her limits, resulting in their chances of ever getting hired for any job, vastly slim to none.

At the lack of defence that Bucky provided you, you felt small, your shoulders slacked as you were tortured with Loki’s cold and silky gaze, more so when the man stood up, pressing his bare chest against your back. You could feel the rings that hung off the buds that adorned his chest coil and dig into your back, shrouding your demeanour substantially.

A part of you wanted nothing more than for Bucky to abuse Loki’s face with his fist, specifically the right, since it was the bearer to a chunky silver ring. It’d leave quite the print, however, the unexpected unravelled as his enquiring tone was aimed not at you, but Loki instead.

“You let your brother fuck her, hmm. Maybe she should learn her manners by being shared, that way her retrospective spattering of bullshit may be contained, to a limit of course.” It was unbelievably, you could not believe that Bucky was conferring with the enemy! And not only that, they were talking about experiences of having you literally become speechless from their unprofessional administrations upon your body. “I’d get T’Challa in here, but I know she’s already fucked him. Can’t quite fire him for it though, because who could ever say no to those pretty eyes, and that mouth, god, it is definitely one of her most persuasive attributes.”

“Bu-“ you didn’t even get to finish imploring his name off your lips, about to defend yourself and your previous actions, though, you were interrupted, starved from the opportunity of coming up with an explanation.

“No.” Loki told you, the roles now reversed as he was the one with his index finger aimed at you. He tapped your nose with it, as he began to pace in the room, his wild locks remaining in their place as he spun, before facing Bucky, a sly tranquility of a truce veining out from the pools of his evergreen orbs. “You don’t speak a word to me y/n, not whilst I’m having a conversation with James here.”

James. It was too far a polite way for him to address your boss. They were all hot and ready to tear out each other’s throats a moment ago, and now here they were, having a silent conversation without your inclusion. It had you reeling your mind as to why, until Bucky gathered your hair in his hand to the side, sliding you y/h/c locks over your shoulder, and finally deemed it acceptable for you to hear his voice.

Though, he still was not directing his tensive words in your direction. “Since you had dealt with this subordinate behaviour from her, perhaps you’d like to join us; help me train her to become more...” His breath fanned your the top of your ear, making your skin crawl by not only his warm and inviting breath, but also the offer that he had supposed to the other man.

“Obedient?” Loki asked in turn of his wispy ended offer of optimism, his leather, sharp tipped boots taking a prominent, heart clenching step towards you. He reached his finger out, grasping a loose strand that had fallen out of Bucky’s grip and before your face, tugging lightly on it, as his lips came dangerously close to your own. “Rules aren’t your forfeit, are they my dear? The best assistant I ever hired, with all those unique ideas floating around in that independent head of yours, but you’ve always been troublesome. I remember the time that you bit my cock that day you had attitude. I reckon Bucky here could do a better job.”

“Then why doesn’t he?” You hissed as said man tugged on his handful of your hair, instantly making you regret your phrase in the moment. To a halting surprise however, Bucky released you, lightly shoving you to cause you to fumble forwards, and away from him.

“Maybe I will.” He dared, earning a nod from Loki, whom seductively began to unzip his loose trousers, as Bucky descended to the ground, his hands running up his rival’s thighs, as the material dropped around Loki’s ankles. It would seem, that he had gone commando, and as Bucky grasped Loki’s shaft, you felt a pull in your chest inherently demanding that you play some part in this fornication.

“Wait.” Your hand shot out, as though you had some force to stop them from continuing with their war path to exact all of their developed spit onto you. “What about me?” You were ss

“Oh no doll, you are not pulling any strings here, if you wanna do something useful, come here and warm my cock, you can watch me blow your old associate.” A slither of a whimper fell from your lips, it wasn’t exactly what you were prying towards, but you sure as hell were not going to refuse the contact that Bucky was obliged to give you.

Thus you wandered towards him, your pinkies curling around one another, as you sashayed to the ground beside him, watching as he paid Loki no mind for a moment, ruthlessly in a desperation fuelled motion, unbuckled his thick belt, and shoved the material of his leather trousers to be held accountable against his lower thighs, just above his tense knees.

He too, as their exteriors supposed, had forgone the extra layer that kept his cock tucked away, though it was exposed as he tugged those tight trousers down, and the sight of both his and Loki’s cocks bobbing in the same vicinity had you close to quivering.

It was somewhat of a dream portrayed in the viscous space of reality, the two men half undressed in then proximity of yourself, it was something that you had always imagined, even before you had left Loki’s side, and opted to work for Bucky, but the idea was definitely short lived. They hated each other, but apparently they were willing to put all their issues aside to prohibit you from freely running your mouth.

Bucky’s cock twitched as he patted his own thigh, ordering you without the aid of his voice to commence it as a servant’s throne, or in your case, a stool for you to rest on as he tended to intimate needs of the man that you had once worked for. Finally, with the decision of better judgement, you allowed your grey jumper dress to slide down your body, leaving you nude, and the aspect of the two men’s unforgiving and locked gazes.

“No underwear, and you wonder why your men have no difficulty in her allowing them to fuck her.” Bucky took ahold of his cock, squeezing his cock with one hand, whilst his other aided you in sitting on his muscular legs, as he lightly growled up at the opposing rockstar.

From the stiff grip that Bucky affirmed around his sceptre, Loki gasped, his pale lips instantly shutting once the sound wantonly abandoned him. The last thing that he wanted was for Bucky to see him in vulnerable poise, though with that said, it’d be rather difficult considering the smutty circumstances.

Bucky took Loki’s long, alabaster prick into his mouth, starting from the primrose tip and descending down, reciprocating the action that you did yourself as you sheathed yourself onto his cock, but instead with his lips. A grunt rendered along Loki’s length as the man bit back a whimper, the vibrations running through his veins like a transpiring pulse of sorcery.

Bucky opted for bobbing his head, as you endured the liberation of his very slightly gyrating movement inside of you. Though, despite him being almost completely still and leaving you full to the brim with his thick length, his balls resting against the partition where he was delved into you, you remained transfixed.

The motion image, recording first hand through your own eyes, of him blowing Loki was sinful, but you were drawn to it. If that made you a sinner, one endorsed by the graphic scene, licking your lips from the sight of Bucky running his studded tongue up the length of Loki, dipping the ball of silver metal into his slit, then so be it.

Your heart raced as you were met with an opportunity. A globe of saliva, strung by the lapping muscle of Bucky’s tongue dropped down; you practically saw its fall in slow motion. It was done before you could register your actions, you had leant forwards, catching the trickle of spit in your mouth, thinking not for a moment as you gulped the subjective liquid down.

Bucky’s pace increased, he gagged lightly as he jolted him further down his throat. Loki hummed, harshly grabbing Bucky’s dark brunette locks, biting his lip as he reimagined your little catch. It had him feeling close, and just as he was about to finish, precum furiously pooling out of his tip, Bucky pulled back, a smirk marking his features.

“You’re not cumming in my mouth, I don’t mind sucking dick, nor swallowing, but I have to practically listen to you jizz over your own talent, and prowl over my girl.” The name he labelled you with had your heart fluttering, but not nearly as much as when he lightly pulled out of you, infuriating you with the lack of any pleasurable esteem. “Don’t you worry babes, you can finish with me inside of you, like always.”

That used to be him, Loki thought with a brewing rage in his chest. Though he instead shrugged out of his dull patterned striped shirt that was already loose on his shoulders. The fabric hit the floor, leaving all of you barren to the subject of nudity.

“Always doesn’t suppose the past Barnes.” Loki stated, referring to all the various times that he had found refuge in your spongey walls, you willingly clenching around him, and pleading for him to hit a deeper spot within you. “And I do not prowl, I don’t need to. The evidence is there between her legs, coiling in juices surrounding her ever so willing folds, that are prepared to endure the harshest of penetrations.”

“What are you trying to do, write a fucking song about this?” Scoffed Bucky, rolling his crystallised orbs at the guts that this man had. If he so much as wanted to, he could stop this passage into a three way all together, but he did not, at least he had yet to. He was enjoying the way that you were squirming to yourself, thinking that he didn’t notice, squeezing the sides of your thighs together in an aroused matrimony.

“A fucking song would’ve the correct term - literally.” Was the affirmed words of Loki, as he shoved Bucky to be sat beside you, tilting his messy brush of crazed hair, his untrustworthy eyes drifting to you. “Who’d you want to fuck you, you fangirling slut?”

It was truthfully a difficult decision. “Both.” You admitted, your bones jumping as Bucky pinched one of your erect nipples, continuing to hold a sturdy clasp of his pads around the sensitive flesh; you couldn’t jut choose one of them. Not when they were both in such close range, bore in nothing more than their birthdays suits, talking about your quivering and diversely accepting cunt.

They knew that you couldn’t possibly refuse one or the other. You were vastly too hungry to be filled like you had never been before, shagged by two of three most well known artists in the industry, earnestly and mindlessly earning yourself a title within the circle of uptight yet simultaneously chill performers.

Perhaps, if Bucky we to ever potentially fire you, there would be another pursuer for your articulating talents on standby, awaiting for the moment that you walked out of his complex door to swoop you up as though they were a predatory falcon, flying off into a stationed sunset, those around seeing you as nothing more than a shadow of the ambient orb, but the one who had employed you finding you to be a sufficing inspiration.

Large hands swallows your hips, firmly controlling their angle as they grasped you in their strong, almost super human hold, lifting you so that you were tentatively tucked in a reverse cowgirl position on Bucky’s lap. It was the third time that you had been this close to him, it would almost be intimate, if your legs weren’t strewn in an open, all revealing splay, so that Loki could see your boss tease his tip around your entrance before sliding you down his length, extracting a strong wail from your churning throat.

Your own hand resented down, applying swirls of pressure down on your clit; it appeared that they were willing you to continue without interruption. Bucky lightly, despite the power that he was promoted to in this position, began to bounce you on his shaft, spewing small mewls out from your agape mouth.

Fisting his cock, Loki approached, Bucky reachin this seen hands down to spread te lips of your pussy, so that the other man was guaranteed a crude glimpse of you being stufffed. Though, you weren’t quite filled enough, for Bucky raised a brow and prompted Loki to allow himself to be pulled closer by your axed and whining aura.

He brushed his tip languidly against your buzzing clit, dragging through your slick and jab i at your delicate fingers before probing at the base of Bucky’s cock, and pushing inside, right along his rival’s length, the pair moaning out in a pleasured union. On the other and, you had tears falling from the crescents of your eyes, the stretch so much that it was a blistering pain to your cunt.

“Don’t go all meek dear, you and i both know this is far from the first instance where you’ve had more than one cock in this nasty, betraying cunt of yours.” Loki taunted, gripping the vulnerable expanse of your throat from behind, his icy glazed skin sending provocative shivers down your spine, making your pussy pulse from the chill that ran through your body.

And then, i a split instant, both cocks began to piston into your walls, as though you were nothing more than a rag doll, meant o be thrown around and handled in a disorderly fashion. They ere ruthless, groaning out symphonies in the cursive air around you, as your walls engulfed their pricks more than snugly.

You felt so wide down there, they were taking a pirating toll on your body stealing every breath that dared wither from your lips, tweezing their nimble fingered around various parts of your body, all in due retrospect or coerce you into fucking them back, making all actions in the mass of bodies a mutual effort.

Loki lowered his head down meeting Bucky for a sloppy, brash kiss. It was clear they were simply doing that part to fulfil a greedy desire in your stomach, but you were not one that minded. It was, like the rest of their frenzy of collaborations, a competitive mess. They nipped harshly at each other’s lips, ravenously all in the meanwhile ploughing your body with their har girths.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” Your tongue dribbled, earning satisfied, lust induced smirks from both parties that were currently penetrating you, making you writhe harder against their lengths a new flow of moisture weeping out from your hole, lubricating their movements further, it encouraging them to do nothing more than continue what they were doing, despite their better judgements.

The truth was, they were rockstars. They had no better judgement, which is why everyone like them needed someone like you. Their thought were clouded with one mission, and for once in their spent lifetimes, it was not to beat the others, at least not to a certain extent anyways. It was their assignment, delivered by their own hands, to bring you to the edge, and that’s physically what they reformed to do.

One of them were groping your nipples, whilst the other confined the same treatment to your ass cheeks. Loki found your Rocky enables of positive feedback to be icicles and they were beautiful, he stared at them, as though they were divine ploys extracted from the mythical kingdom of Jotunheim, their residence in the realm to be the peacemakers of all bountiful creatures, much like himself and Barnes.

A rich euphoric groan exuberated from Bucky as he allowed himself to spoil, but he tutted whence he watched Loki’s features suppose that he was to follow shortly behind. “Not inside of her.” Bucky growled, sufficing Loki to roll his eyes, and pull out, the man behind you furiously replacing your hand, rolling our clit in his grasp until a sinful scream enveloped the air, commencing them all to the fact that you had just came.

Loki found the show to be unfair, and instead, spilled his priceless seed onto the huffing skin of your stomach, you eyes fluttered shut at the warm feeling pooling onto you. You leant back, drawing your neck into a crooked angle as you swiped your tongue wordlessly over the piercing on Bucky’s right nipple, metal providing a relief to the heat that your body was and had been swarmed with. “ Last chance you’re gonna have t taste her sweet cunt.”

“You do certainly have some faith in this one Barnes, but I do doubt that it will be the last instance in which i am todo so.” His silver tongue pried at your cum soaked flesh, drinking up all the essence that you had to offer, onshore the flavour that Bucky had brought to the table, i the form of a succulent drizzling of Snow White cum.

As Loki finishes swabbing his tongue over your cunt, Bucky adoringly kisses you, much sweeter than he has before. It was sort, and almost chaste, but his blue eyes roamed your face, delicately observing the high points of your face, that were covered with a sheen of great force making you as he would put it, glow.

The pair of you weer exhausted, there was still some swollen was to his lips from where he had sucked off Loki. His hands cradled you around your waist, his feet kicking Loki back as you whimpered from opaque sensitivity. “I guess that was you bidding me a dew.” Sneered the trickster, fishing for his clothes, as he spared you a spark filled glare, to which you ignored.

Once he was situated back into his attire, he left the sex scented room,a hollow smirk chapping his lips as he strutted th a purpose out into the hallway, taking a left instead of a right, and creeping into barnes’ studio to see what the man was working on in the midst of his enduring tour/ He was always the trickster, and nothing different was to ever be expected out of him.

“That was good.” You mumbled, rubbing your ode lovingly across the scruff that coated his jaw. His fingers made small circles upon your tummy, humming contently as he remained sheathed inside of you. He had to admit, he preferred it when it was just him, but his lonesome, sheathed within your walls, feeling the small trembles of your walls around him. It was practically heaven, and he would say so if he believed in such a place.

A deliberate knock ruined the moment, as the man entered,he quarrelled with himself where her to casually look in the direction of the pair of you or to avert his sight around, and blankly at the all. “What is it T’Challa?” Grumbled the man inside of you, quirking a thin brow at the timing of his presence.

“Loki; he managed to get into ur data, and he’s leaked a whole bunch of your music.” Of course, Loki would not come here to simply gloat, there was alas something extra up his green sleeve, and now it was revealed.

“Son of a bitch!” Bucky made a move to stand, but instead prohibited a whimper out of you as hi ships jutted angrily tip on instinct. “Get Odin on the phone, we’re going to have a little chat about his slippery hands son!” Barked Bucky, prepared t do anything to bring his greatest threat down, compiling him into the put of hate industry, until he was forgotten about, unable to ever produce new music again.

“Talk to Sif.” You whispered, becoming the image of his assistant once more, even if his cum lathered cock was prevailing within a rut of required stress relief, growing in the conjunction of your wall with his body guard there. “She loathes him, and rightfully so. He got her kicked out and she has dirt on him that nobody else has ever heard. If you want to take I’m down, she is your in.”

The strict tone grammatically supported by your logical information was definitely turning Bucky on again. He could handle you more than fine without Loki’s aid, he was just a means to an end, as it was clearly shown in his priorities.

250 notes · View notes

hongism · 4 years

Text

storge - s. mingi

➻ genre: angst, fluff, light smut ➻ rating: M ➻ word count: 15.6k ➻ pairing: mingi x fem!reader ➻ summary: Best friends do everything together, right? ➻ warnings: language, mild smut, fingering, handjobs, oral sex (explicit m, mentioned f), thigh riding, kink exploration, bad practices, learning ➻ colours of love | part one

“I have a feeling that this mild, quiet happiness will last until December. - juansen dizon”

“So, you aren’t dating him?”

You sigh at the question, the simple string of words hitting your ears and grating against them in a way that causes annoyance to bubble in your gut. Instead of responding with words of your own, you simply shake your head at the girl who lingers at your side. She’s the third girl to approach you and ask you this question in the past week. If you’re honest, it’s starting to frustrate you to a point where you’re close to making a public announcement about your nonexistent love life so that no one would disturb you again.

With that being said, your best friend Mingi loves the constant barrage of questions coming your way. Each time you report back to him about which person asked you the same exact question that day, he gets giddier and giddier. You thought university was supposed to be a step up from the typical high school antics. Yet, you’ve been proven wrong day in, day out thanks to the overwhelming amount of love that girls seem to have for your best friend.

“No, we’re just friends. Best friends.”

“Oh, amazing! Could you please mention me or something to him then?”

“Why don’t you do it yourself? I’m sure he’d appreciate it a lot more.”

If only it were so easy to get rid of them that way. You use the same response on every person that comes your way, and none of them seem to be able to grasp the underlying message you’re sending their way. The “please get the fuck away from me, I just want to make it through one class without being asked about my relationship status with my best friend” always flies over their heads, but over time you’ve come to understand it. The whole notion of a girl being close friends with a guy is a concept that people tend to struggle with, apparently. So even though both you and Mingi find it quite ordinary, the people observing from the outside jump to conclusions before considering what your relationship actually is. (He calls it one of the perks of being friends with him, but you only see it as a detriment instead).

It isn’t a surprise that when you approach your friend less than an hour later, the first thing that he comments on is the expression on your face, no doubt one of disdain or exhaustion.

“Long day already?” He laughs as you drop your bag on the floor and sit in the seat across from him. His smile only stretches further when you glare at him from across the table. “How many today?” You scoff at his presumptive question, and even though he’s correct, you don’t want to give him the pleasure of being right quite yet.

“Remember the cute guy from our psychology class?”

Mingi rolls his eyes at the question, shaking his head ever so slightly. You silently wonder if he’s merely disappointed that you didn’t mention any people thirsting after him.

“He’s only cute to you. You have terrible taste in men.” He dodges the attack you send his way, smoothly moving out of the way of your arms reach, and sticks his tongue out at you. “I’m better looking than him though, right?”

“No!” You protest as you try to extend your hand further to actually make contact this time, but your efforts fail thanks to the unfortunate length of your arms. Mingi laughs at your struggles for a moment before leaning closer to let you smack his shoulder. You take the bait, grateful to have the opportunity now before he takes it away from you later.

“Well, are you gonna do anything about it or just let it sit as you always do?”

You fall back against the chair, fingers drumming against the table as you look up at Mingi with pursed lips.

“I know what that means.”

“I’m going to do som—”

“No, you’re not. You’re going to watch him from afar like you always do and secretly pine after him in the desperate hopes that he might notice you or talk to you at some point without putting in any effort into making an actual move yourself.”

“Okay, wow, fine.”

“I’m only speaking the truth.”

“I don’t have people lining up left and right for me. I don’t have it as easy as you do, so that’s not fair.”

“Whoever said I have it easy?”

“People come to me every damn day asking for your number and if I can tell you about them!”

Mingi cocks his head to the side, blinking at you with his wide eyes for a moment. The sudden silence catches you off guard; Mingi rarely sits still without making some sort of ruckus, leaving you to be the calmer, more level-headed one. In all honesty, you expected him to laugh and be a little smug about the attention. You blink back at him, lips still parted slightly.

“Anyways…” You bend down to grab something out of your backpack, but Mingi stops you with what he says next.

“Why won’t you initiate for once?”

You hesitate, glancing at Mingi from the corner of your eye.

“Why won’t you actually go on a date with one of these people?” You counter. You try to fight the embarrassment that creeps up your neck, but it’s too late, and the heat floods your cheeks before you can duck your head again. Mingi is fully aware of why you can’t initiate. Still, you’ve always refused to admit it, even though he’s in the exact same position.

“None of them have really piqued my interest, I guess.” He shrugs.

“That’s shallow.”

“Well, it’s better than leading them on, isn’t it?” Mingi asks, and you have to agree with him. You would certainly rather have someone be upfront about their feelings instead of leading the other on. After a few moments of silence, he continues,

“Anyways, you didn’t answer the question. Why won’t you just initiate?”

The heat on your cheeks deepens even though you were expecting the question. You try to duck your head to keep Mingi from seeing your embarrassment, and yet he keeps pressing his chin forward, so you have no chance to hide your face.

“I can’t,” you hiss through your teeth.

“Why not?”

“I’m scared to initiate things since I’ve never had experience with anything that falls in that spectrum. You know that.”

Admitting it out loud provides zero relief from the anxiety pumping through your veins at the moment. Still, the slight frown that creeps onto Mingi’s face sends you further into a frenzy. You tug a notebook out of your bag, slamming it down onto the desk before you, causing some of the other students within the library to send pointed glares your way.

“Well, I guess you’ll have to learn quickly then?” Mingi suggests, adding a slight shrug to accentuate his words.

“Is it that easy though?” You peer at Mingi with wide eyes for a moment before shaking your head. “Why am I asking you? You don’t know anything either.”

Mingi does nothing to defend himself, instead offering a slight shrug in response. You glance down at your notebook and thumb through the pages until you reach a blank one. Mingi’s hand hits the page. You jerk your head up to look him in the eye, and a hint of playfulness lingers behind his brown eyes, and you narrow your eyes immediately. You know that look, years of friendship have taught you that it can only mean one thing.

Mingi has an idea.

And when Mingi has an idea, you never end up liking it much.

Nothing against your best friend or anything, but he isn’t renowned for coming up with the smartest ideas. He grins at you, gums flashing as he exposes his teeth, and you frown at his enthusiasm.

“No,” you say preemptively, ready to shoot down whatever idea Mingi has.

“I haven’t even said anything yet!”

“It doesn’t matter. My answer is no.”

“Why?”

“I know whatever idea you have is a bad one.”

“That’s not true.”

“Name the last good idea you had.”

“Automatic page-turners so you don’t have to turn the page yourself.”

“That’s not — Mingi, no. How hard is it to turn a page?”

“Harder than you think.”

“It’s not that hard, dumbass.”

A brief moment of silence then— “That’s what she said, ha.”

“You aren’t funny.”

“You love me.”

“I’m regretting everything now.”

“Look, Y/N, listen for two minutes. That’s all I as—”

“Your time starts now. 120, 119, 118, 117—”

“Okay, chill! Damn, no need to be a bitch about it.”

You sigh, propping your elbows up onto the table and staring forward at Mingi with little interest.

“Alright, so I have an idea. Don’t say no yet, just hear me out for a minute. You could… you know, try it out on me.”

“Excuse me?” You squint, eyes meeting Mingi’s brown ones, and he dodges eye contact in favor of looking at the table.

“Since you’re scared to initiate things, you could test it out on me.”

“Mingi, you don’t have any experience either. This guy has probably has had twenty girlfriends in his lifetime and a hundred times more experience than both of us combined.”

“A hundred times zero is zero.”

“Mingi.”

“Hear me out. Th-there’s this girl. I, uh, I’ve had my eye on her for a while… but I can’t initiate anything. I-I don’t have any experience either so that’s holding me back from doing anything. So, why not… why not just learn together?” Your friend glances up at you, eyes darting away as soon as he meets your eyes and clears his throat.

You let the silence settle and mull over the suggestion. You do everything with him, and you’ve done that since you were in middle school. The list of firsts you’ve had with him is not that long, and yet the offer of experiencing more firsts with him… You examine your friend’s face, putting a bit too much effort into analyzing his features. He isn’t bad looking — not in the slightest — and there’s a good reason why so many girls are chasing after him.

Tall? Check.

Sweet? Check.

Funny? Check.

Broad shoulders, large hands that dwarf yours, and thighs that you’ve definitely thought about a hell of a lot more than a best friend ought to think about? Check, check, and check.

Besides, you trust him, and he’s never done anything particularly shady (except for that one time when he told your high school sophomore year crush that you thought his ass was hot). You honestly trust him with your life. What’s the harm in trusting him with this too?

He’s still trying to avoid looking in your direction. A slight redness has risen to his cheeks, and he seems more unsure about the idea than you are, even though he’s the one who suggested it.

There's one glaring issue that's causing red lights of warning to go off in your mind. You love Mingi, there's no doubt about that, and he's your closest friend for a reason. That doesn't include sexual attraction, however, and despite thinking about his looks (and thighs), you made an executive decision a few years ago that meant you would never go after your friend with sexual intent in mind.

His soft-spoken suggestion is hesitant yet convincing, and you blatantly ignore the warning signs in favor of the pull of Mingi's words.

"I mean... why not give a try?" You shrug in attempts to hide the embarrassment beginning to creep up your neck.

Mingi freezes in place. A moment of silence passes between you, your discomfort grows exponentially, and you regret saying the words now. Then Mingi snaps his chin up, dark eyes searing holes into your own.

"Really?" He asks, lip trembling with the syllables.

"Yes?" You answer. You curse yourself for pushing the questioning lilt to your tone, chin tilting to the side slightly.

"Are you being serious about this though?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Do you really… you know, wanna… test things out with me?"

"That's why I said yes, Mingi."

Your legs begin to shake under the table, the nerves in your gut spreading throughout your entire body. If Mingi suggested it, why is he so hesitant all of a sudden?

"Were you expecting me to say no?"

"I don't—I have no idea what I was expecting to be honest." Mingi shifts in his seat, and his hands leave the edge of the table to most likely curl them into tight fists in his lap as he usually does whenever struck with nerves. You don't respond right away, instead of blinking at your best friend with a look of mild wonder.

"Um, so… what do we—when do we—you know?"

"Start?"

"I guess… yes?" You aren't used to this lingering awkwardness between you and Mingi. Typically, your friendship is all sunshine and butterflies with zero awkwardness or tension. Hell, any arguments the two of you have are usually based on something stupid and trivial, and it's been that way for as long as you can remember. Even after the incident where Mingi told the guy you liked that you thought he had a nice ass, you were more embarrassed to be around the guy than you were angry with Mingi for letting that nugget of information slip.

Just the prospect of engaging in physical affection and shit like that causes too much panic and awkward tension for comfort. Perhaps it's another red flag or warning sign indicating that this is a bad idea, but you continue to push that thought further to the back of your mind until it doesn't bother you anymore.

"Wh-whenever we want, I guess? I mean, whenever you want. That's probably the best idea."

"Well, school comes first. I have two projects coming up, as well as a few tests because midterms are on their way, and I refuse to fall behind at this point. I have to make sure I maintain a good GPA in order to get into my fall classes, and I've heard that they have no mercy once you're a sophomore, so I need to make sure everything goes smoothly from this point onward so that—"

"Ah, Y/N, I get it! School first! It's okay!" Mingi's hands come up again, held up in defense over his chest as he urges you to stop your rant. You inhale deeply in efforts to catch your breath, the lack of air during your rant causing you to feel lightheaded.

"W-We don't have to start right away. Take it slow at first? If you think that's best…" Mingi trails off and looks away from you, a redness creeping up his cheeks again. You shake your head at him even though he cannot see the action.

"I don't know what's best," you mumble, tugging the notebook that lies forgotten on the table closer to you. The odds of you getting any work done at this rate are minimal, especially since you know you will be thinking of whatever this arrangement entails for the next few days.

"A-Are you leaving?" Mingi jerks his head back in your direction as he notices your movements, and you shake your head a few times.

"I was going to suggest we head to the coffee shop. I'd, uh, I would rather discuss this there instead of the public library."

"Oh, yeah, uh, that's a good idea. Yeah, let's do that. The usual one?"

"Yes, dimwit, I was also assuming we would walk over there together as we usually do." Your use of the playful nickname alleviates a bit of the tension residing in the air, and Mingi breaks into a gummy smile at the sound of it. You continue to pull your unused belongings together and shove them into your backpack again, Mingi doing the same across from you.

He's first to stand, which would generally mean that you would have to jog to catch up with him and his long legs, but instead of leaving right away, as usual, he turns the corner of the table and joins you where you're still sitting.

You blink up at him with wide eyes, hand frozen on the strap of your bag. Mingi doesn't say a word before stooping down and snatching your bag before you have the chance to stop him. You release a noise of indignation that sounds a bit too much like a dog's yelp for your liking. Mingi doesn't give you any time to breathe, because he next grabs hold of your left hand that's still outstretched in the air for your backpack.

"Mingi," you hiss after a moment. Your gaze drifts between the awkward clasp of your hand in his and the man's cheeky grin above you.

"I got your backpack, don't worry. And your hand." He sends a wink your way, and lunch nearly makes an unwelcome appearance in your mouth again. Before you can retort back, Mingi gently tugs you to your feet and pulls you into step with him as he walks out of the library.

People are sending the two of you looks. Not the kind of looks you are used to getting, but looks. The ever so typical "ugh can they just get together already" and "everyone knows it but them" looks are no longer present. No, this time it’s looks of "oh is it finally happening?", "are they finally together?" and "it's about damn time" that have you bristling. Again, your brain pushes the thought that this may be a bad idea to the forefront of your mind, but Mingi's grip tightens ever so slightly and pushes that thought away.

You glance down at your joined hands as Mingi pulls you along, expecting to feel some sort of warmth blooming in your chest, and yet nothing rises. You shift your fingers in his grasp and slip your fingers between his, a childlike wonder to your gaze, and Mingi looks back at you when you stop walking. He sees your fixation on your joined hands and allows quiet to hang for a moment before breaking your reverie.

"Y/N, is everything okay?" He asks as he bends a bit to look you in the eye.

"It's nothing," you mumble back.

"We've held hands before, you know? This isn't anything new."

"I know…" you trail off, train of thought failing to be vocalized. It feels different, doesn't it? Is it because there is a different sort of intention behind it now? Or am I reading too far into things already?

"Hey, you dolt, you're thinking too hard again."

"Sorry." You shake your head to recover from the impending thoughts and smile up at Mingi. He grins back at you, gums flashing, then squeezes your hand tighter before continuing to lead the way to your usual cafe.

"S-So…this girl, um, do I know her or...?"

"Or what?" Mingi doesn't spare you a look, but his grip on your hand loosens, fingers slipping out of yours, and you wonder if you've said something wrong.

"I mean, is she someone who has come to me asking for every detail of your life or not?"

"N-No, she's not. She, uh, she doesn't seem interested in me at all."

"Would I recognize her if I saw her?"

"Maybe? Uh, she's in our history class. Hyerin. Min Hyerin?"

You purse your lips, shaking your head back and forth even though Mingi can't see you. The name doesn't ring any bells, although you try your best to avoid talking to your classmates. Mingi is the social one between the two of you, having enough extroverted energy to carry the both of you through social interactions and such. He may know this girl well, but you surely don’t.

"You know the guy in psychology yet?"

"What?"

"Do you know his name, you dolt?"

"O-Oh, uh, no? I haven't talked to him at all. I'm too—"

"Nervous, I know."

"That's not all there is, Mingi." You stop in your tracks, eyes bearing holes into your best friend's back. The walls of defense come up immediately, and you cross your arms over your chest. Mingi keeps walking for a moment before he realizes that you are no longer by his side. He glances back at you. A sigh passes through his lips when he reads the frown on your lips.

"Y/N."

"Mingi."

"Y/N."

"Mingi."

"Is this about the anxiety thing?"

You roll your eyes at the question, arms falling away from your chest. Part of you wants to argue and defend yourself, but the constriction in your chest prevents words from coming out. Instead, you stare at the ground, gnawing on your lower lip with a bit too much pressure. Mingi notices the expression painting your features and walks closer to you. He takes hold of your left hand, fingers interlocking yours, and tugs you closer to his side. Whether he knows that you don't really want to talk about it or that he doesn't want to address the topic either, you'll never know, but he starts walking again with you in tow.

You frown at your joined hands again, but the tightness in your chest begins to alleviate as you continue to walk, and for a moment, you think that the anxiety bubbling in your gut will go away. However, that thought is quickly dispelled because the longer Mingi holds your hand, the more you notice the glances and stares of strangers on you, on your joined hands, on the two backpacks Mingi carries. It's another moment of questioning yourself, wondering if you're making the right decision or a terrible mistake, but Mingi doesn't give you much time to dwell on those thoughts because his fast walking gets you to your usual hangout in less than five minutes.

"Can you order for us? I need to go to the bathroom." He asks as soon as the two of you step through the door. A typical gummy smile plays at his lips, one you can't say no to, so you shoo him off, watching as he drops your bags at a booth before he dashes for the bathroom. A sigh escapes your lips, and you walk up to the counter.

"Hi Y/N," the barista behind the counter greets, hitting you with a smile.

"Hi Yeosang, how are you?"

"Eh, as good as I can be. I work a double today."

"Hey, you're the one who chose this. You could've had the same psychology class as us, but you said you wanted a full day off school so you could work." You reach across the counter and poke at Yeosang's shoulder. He laughs at your childish behavior.

"Fair point, okay. I'm assuming you want the usual, by the way?"

"Of course. You know Mingi. He's a creature of habit, not very open to new things."

"Yeah, yeah, but you're the same way," Yeosang teases as he punches in your order on the register. You purse your lips. Should I tell him about the deal with Mingi? No, he wouldn't approve. He'd think it's stupid, wouldn't he?

"Y/N?" You lift your chin and look at Yeosang in the eye, startled by his sudden utterance of your name. "I asked you a question but you seemed to be off in la-la land."

"Oh, sorry. I—whatever. What's the question?"

"When are you actually gonna start working here with me?" Yeosang asks (again), head tilted to the side and bright eyes wide.

"If you want to see me more, all you have to do is ask."

"Pfft, you think I want to see your lazy ass more? Seeing you more means seeing Mingi more, and that's not a joint package I'm the biggest fan of."

"You know you love him," you chastise as you pass your credit card over to him.

"Oh, whatever, he's not all that great. But anyway, I'm asking because of money. You said you were gonna get a job last semester but never did."

"I know, I know. I just—the school has been my focus more than anything else." You glance over at the bathrooms where Mingi is on his way out. Yeosang follows your line of sight to land on the redhead. A small scoff passes through his parted lips.

"Yea, school." The dig is a typical one from Yeosang, he isn't shy about sharing his opinions, and that's something you've grown used to in the time you've known him. Yet it stings this time, perhaps because there are new intentions behind your relationship with Mingi, or it's the doubt still nagging at the edges of your thoughts.

"Be nice, Yeo. That's your roommate, so you're the one who gets to go home to an angry Mingi, not me." Yeosang merely rolls his eyes in response and passes your credit card back to you. A soft smile lands on his lips a moment later though, eyes still following Mingi as he settles into the booth.

"Whatever, I know he's the best roommate I could've asked for or something."

"Oh, by the way, we need to talk about something later. Uh, I'll try to catch you whenever Mingi and I are done with homework." You leave the counter before Yeosang has a chance to question you, fleeing his inquisitive stare and the feeling of anxiety in your gut. It's a last-minute decision on your part, a spur of the moment panic that surges through your gut and makes you decide to confess the deal you have with Mingi, which you regret almost immediately.

You go to join Mingi at the table, but when you sit down, you can see Yeosang glaring at you from across the small coffee shop, no doubt curious about what you desire to talk about, but you simply make a little 'x' with your fingers and shake your head.

"Okay, so…are we needing to make some ground rules or something?" You ask as you redirect your focus to Mingi. He snaps his gaze to you, turning away from the window on his right.

"Uh, I guess we should? I don't know." Mingi brings a finger to his mouth and catches the fingernail between his teeth.

"Okay...what's off-limits for you?"

"Off-limits? I don't know. Should there be those things?"

"Don't we need to have some sort of boundaries?"

"I was just gonna go with the flow honestly." Mingi shrugs and leans back against the cushion of the booth. Your eyes dart over to the counter where Yeosang is and find his gaze tracking you again. You curse under your breath, reach for your backpack, and pull out a notebook so that you at least look somewhat busy. Yeosang is undoubtedly suspicious already, especially considering the fact that you told him you had something you wanted to talk about, and you can't keep your mind from drifting to the thought that Yeosang knows precisely what's going on by now. Mingi watches your hasty movements with little interest but pulls out his own notebook as well.

"Even if we just go with the flow, shouldn't we discuss it?"

"Y/N, that's not what going with the flow means."

"I feel like we need boundaries," you claim.

You're avoiding Mingi's gaze now, and it's more than obvious, especially when he tries to make eye contact, and you jerk your head to the side to dodge it.

"Okay, give me an example."

"No sex," you spit out, cheeks flushing as soon as you say it. Mingi's eyes widen at the suddenness of your words and the volume, and you realize you might have said the words a bit too loud. Then, Mingi's cheeks turn red as well, almost matching the color of his hair.

"Y-Yea, okay, we can—look, we're just gonna take that off the table now, yea? Yea. We don't have to—ew."

"Ew?" You reiterate.

"I just imagined having sex with you."

"Mingi!"

"I'm not saying it would be bad, I'm ju—"

"Gross, I don't wanna know!"

"You're the one who brought it up!"

"I didn't mean for you to tell me about your sex fantasies."

"Oh my god, that's not what I was doing."

"Y/N!" Yeosang's voice interrupts your bickering, his bright tone sends across the cafe, and you instinctively sit up straighter. You excuse yourself from the table without a word.

"What the hell did you do?" Yeosang asks as soon as you get close to the counter. You reach for the coffees in front of you, but Yeosang pulls them out of your grasp at the last second. "Answer the damn question."

"I didn't do anything," you retort as you grab for the drinks again.

"Bullshit. I'm calling bullshit. You fucking yelled 'no sex.'"

Your heart plummets, and you can almost feel the sensation of it dropping. Eyes wide, you stare at Yeosang's blank expression. "So, what the fuck did you do?" Even having known Yeosang for quite a few years now, you still get scared of him at times. This is most definitely one of those times because even though his face is blank, there is an overwhelming level of something in his eyes.

"Can we talk about this later?" You hiss out, cheeks flushed and burning at this point. Yeosang refuses to let up though.

"You're about to make a bad decision, aren't you?" As soon as he voices his question, you realize precisely what you saw in his eyes.

Concern. He's worried about you yet again.

"I swear Y/N, are you letting Mingi drag you to another party? Do you not remember what happened last time?"

"No, I'm not," you mutter back. "Stop worrying so much. This isn’t about a party."

"Y/N." There's a hint of warning in Yeosang's tone, and doubt catches you in that moment of weakness. "I can't bail you out of everything. Especially when it comes to something between you and Mingi."

"There's nothing there!" You spit, eyes flashing anger at the accusation, and Yeosang instinctively takes a step back. "Fucking lecture me later, Yeo, I don't have time for this." You snatch the drinks off the counter and head back to the table where Mingi waits. Either your anger is radiating off you in waves, or Mingi watched your interaction with Yeosang at the counter. As soon as you take a seat, he pipes up with a question.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Were you two arguing?"

"No, no, it was nothing." You ignore the persistent stare that Mingi sends your way by sipping your coffee.

"Why does Yeosang look like you’ve just kicked his puppy then?" You hesitate, drink halfway back to the table, and glance over to the counter again. Yeosang isn't there anymore, however, empty space there instead. You redirect your focus to Mingi, tongue dragging across your front teeth.

"We can't let him know about this."

"What?"

"We can't let him know what we're doing," you reiterate, hand coming down on the table with a bit too much force.

"O-oh, yea, I wasn't planning on it?"

"I'm gonna talk to him about some of it but not all."

"What are you even saying, Y/N? I'm not following." Mingi drums his nails against the table, head tilted as he watches you struggle to find the words.

"I don't know! Just ignore me, I don't know what I'm trying to say."

"Well," Mingi starts, taking a deep inhale of air. "Do you wanna go to my apartment?"

"What?"

"Don't make it weird, Y/N, for fuck's sake!"

"I'm not making it weird!"

"God, you're being so awkward about this. No wonder you've never had a boyfriend!"

"I'm offended, Mingi."

"Good."

You scoff at his response. "How am I supposed to respond? I didn't even hear you clearly the first time."

"I asked if you want to go to my apartment," Mingi says again, slowing his words so that you can clearly hear them.

"Yea, that's fine. I'm fine with that." You glance over to where Yeosang is again.

"Why are you worrying so much about Yeosang right now? He has nothing to do with this, Y/N." You reel and face Mingi again, catching his brown eyes on yours.

"He wouldn't approve of this," you mutter, swirling your coffee around in its cup. Mingi narrows his eyes.

"You just said that he doesn't have to know."

"He's our friend, Mingi, and your roommate. He is going to find out eventually."

"You're the one who agreed, Y/N. I put up the offer, and you accepted it. You didn't have to, and we can still call it off if you've changed your mind." Mingi shrugs, much more nonchalant about this whole matter than you are.

"It's not that. I would just rather… I don't know. I would rather not have him witness it."

"So, you would rather have your roommate witness it?"

"We aren't friends with my roommate; however, we are friends with Yeosang."

"Okay, I see your point," Mingi relents, putting his arms up in defense. "I raise a counterpoint. Hear me out?"

"Go ahead, go ahead." You sit back and rest against the booth.

"Yeosang works late, remember? Full days on Tuesdays and Thursdays, until closing. Then he has to clean the cafe before coming back to the apartment. So that means he wouldn't get back until past eleven." Mingi draws invisible lines across the table with his finger. You follow the movements with your eyes, listening to Mingi's plan carefully.

"So…?" You prod in the hopes that Mingi will elaborate more.

"So, Yeosang is used to seeing you at the apartment without there being some underlying intention behind it. Even if we decide to make this agreement a reality, he doesn't have to know because we could limit ourselves to learning things when he isn't around. And when he does show up, we can just chill and do the things we usually do whenever Yeosang's around."

Mingi is making too much sense. Far too much sense, and he's using far bigger words than are usually in his vocabulary. That is a rather significant concern; however, you can't find any flaws in his argument, no matter how hard you try. And perhaps that's the purpose of Mingi's case and what his true intentions are, to be able to convince you with this, and you hate to admit that it's working.

It's your turn to drum your fingers against the table.

"Well then," you start, avoiding Mingi's gaze by looking at the table. "I guess…we ought to get started then?" You don't intend for it to end in a question, yet it does. Mingi cocks his head to the side, glancing over you with a slight bit of shock across his features as though he wasn't expecting you to agree, which is strange in your mind. You pack your notebook back into your backpack without another word, collecting your things and getting ready to head out. Mingi fumbles to catch up with your pace.

"O-Oh, you wanna go now?"

"You were the one who suggested it?" You peer at Mingi now, head tilted in question.

"I didn't expect you to agree so quickly, that's all." Mingi scratches the back of his neck. A light flush hits his cheeks. "Considering all your…prior complaints about it, that is."

"I'm trying to make sure this isn't awkward, okay?"

"It isn't awkward, it's just—well, it's weird, isn't it?"

"What do you mean?" You hesitate, halfway out of the booth, and look back at Mingi again.

"I mean, yea, we've done a lot of things during our friendship. We grew up alongside each other and have done pretty much everything together. Yet, it doesn't feel like this was something either of us considered."

"And now that we're about to do it, it feels odd."

"Yea, exactly. I think you're overthinking the whole situation though. We're doing the same things we've always done: going to cafes, the movies, the park, hanging out at my apartment, those sorts of things. That's nothing new for us."

You sigh and slide out of the booth, collecting your things and not looking back at Mingi when you utter your next words,

"That's not what I'm scared of."

Mingi follows quickly and falls into step beside you a moment later. You feel the heat of his gaze on you but elect not to say anything. He waits though, following you out the door and back into the cold February air.

"I'm scared of things changing between us," you admit once the door snaps shut behind you, as though that will provide you with some semblance of security. Mingi opens his mouth, but you already know what he is going to ask, so you interrupt him. "I like the way things are between us. We're best friends, and I don't want some stupid desires to get in the way of our friendship." Mingi moves in front of you and reaches down between the two of you to grab hold of one of your hands.

"We're best friends. This won't change anything between us because we have been friends for this long without doing these kinds of things. Even when it's all said and done, we will still be friends, and nothing will be different." Mingi pulls you to his side, fingers slotting between yours, and leads the way down the sidewalk. “Let’s just… do this as though it’s just like anything else we would do together.”

You want to point out that this is different: there is a fine line between a normal friendship and whatever this game you’re playing. You can’t bring yourself to voice the concerns, however, so you keep your lips pressed together. Considering how much you’ve complained already, you’re sure that Mingi would just be annoyed if you said anything else. So you stay quiet, fingers squeezing tight around Mingi’s, and fall into step with him. It’s a comfortable feeling, aside from Mingi’s silence, which is a thing you aren’t used to. Still, it gives you time to just bask in the last shreds of normality between the two of you.

Then your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you let go of Mingi’s hand to pull it out.

Yeosang: if you get your sorry ass stuck at another party, I’m not bailing you out

Yeosang: deadass

Yeosang: you’re on your own

You huff as you read the messages, a small pool of annoyance bubbling in your gut. The good and right thing to do would be to respond and reassure Yeosang that it’s not that serious, not even close to what happened last time.

You do the opposite. Ignoring the messages, refusing to respond, and putting the phone back in your pocket to retake Mingi’s hand without saying a word.

“Hey, Mingi, I have a question.”

Mingi glances down at you, no doubt assuming that you’re going to ask something about the deal again, and you rush to clarify.

“How is it possible that none of the people who have been into you have piqued your interest? Just… statistics wise, I don’t understand how that’s possible. Surely at least one has caught your eye.” Mingi’s gaze drifts again, and he snaps his chin away from you before you can see the expression on his face.

“No. None of them have. I don’t know what to tell you. Just... I haven’t been interested in any of them. Sure, some of them are pretty, or have nice personalities, or simply would be a good girlfriend, but none of them are—” Mingi cuts himself off, and you hear the sharp inhale of breath he takes next. You think he’s going to continue speaking for a moment, but instead, he shifts the topic over to you. “I could ask you the same question, Y/N. There are plenty of guys who have liked you, plenty who probably do right now, but you never do anything about it.”

“Hm well, that’s different.”

“How so?”

“I don’t see it. I mean, you get people who approach you directly and an endless amount of girls who come to me because of you, but that doesn’t happen to me. So I never know if someone likes me, or… I have my eyes set on someone else, so I don’t think about it.”

“You never thought that I might be the same?” Mingi’s question shouldn’t catch you off-guard, but it manages to do so anyway. To be honest, you have never considered it. “I’ve liked people in the past, and when I like someone, it’s like no one else exists. That’s why I’ve never focused on the girls who approach you or me.”

In your eyes, Mingi has always been this single free-spirited kind of person. Never talked about girls or boys, never showed interest in either, and never talked about having feelings for anyone. You always chalked him up to be the type to not be interested in relationships, but it seems you were wrong about that.

“So you… you do want a relationship?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“Well, you know, some people are aromantic or don’t get that sort of attraction towards others, so they aren’t really interested in relationships. Some just aren’t into that kind of commitment, some just want to fuck and go. It’s different for everyone, and I just… I assumed that—you know?”

Mingi breaks into laughter as you stammer your way through the words. “I thought you knew me better than that, Y/N.”

“We don’t talk about this sort of stuff, Mingi. What do you expect? I can’t read your mind either, so I don’t know what to tell you!” You barely even notice where you are when Mingi releases your hand and pulls a door open. You have to shake your head and actually take in your surroundings, seeing Mingi’s apartment building before you. He waits for you to step through the door without saying anything. “Sorry, zoned out.”

“Obviously,” Mingi laughs under his breath. You duck into the building, warm air smacking you in the face, and you turn your head to avoid the onslaught of warmth. You don’t wait for Mingi to lead the way up to his apartment, you already know where it is. “Hey, remember that Yeosang gets stingy about liquids in the apartment! Try not to spill your coffee this time!”

“It was your fault last time, I don’t see why you’re blaming me!” You call out over your shoulder as you quickly jog up the stairs.

“You kicked me!”

“And you retaliated by throwing a pillow at me! Not my fault it hit the coffee cup.” Something hits the back of your thigh, right below the curve of your butt, and you spin to face Mingi. He cackles at the shock across your face. “Did you just—you did not!”

“Didn’t what?” Mingi laughs, stepping past you on the stairs and continuing up without you. “I didn’t do anything inappropriate.” You scoff and hurry to chase after him.

“You hit my ass!”

“No, I hit your thigh. There’s not much ass to hit anyways.” Mingi sends a grin your way. You can’t do anything except gape back at him, mouth hanging open as he simply laughs and continues up the stairs.

“I’m offended, Mingi. Not much ass? Why are you even looking?”

“Not looking at much, to be honest.”

“Shut up, Mingi!” If you didn’t like your coffee so much, you would consider dumping it all over Mingi in retaliation. Instead, you’re going to have to find another way to get back at him because no way in hell are you going to let him get away with talking shit about your ass, no matter how flat it may be. “You’re equally as flat, if not more.”

“It’s different for guys though.”

You roll your eyes back at the comment. “Don’t be shallow.”

“What’s the saying? Different strokes for different folks? Some people like boobs, some like butts.”

“And some like personality and other non-physical assets.” You can almost hear the roll of Mingi’s eyes even though he’s in front of you, but he doesn’t add any more salt to the wound. Thank goodness for that too, because you’re nearing his apartment on the third floor. The jingle of keys distracts you from your thoughts. Mingi fiddles with his keys, and you watch on with little interest as he unlocks the door to his apartment. You push your way in first once he opens it though, slipping past him to get inside. Sipping at your coffee, you turn to look at Mingi as he steps through the door as well.

“Why don’t you put your coffee in the kitchen this time? Just in case you decide to kick me again.”

“You mean, in case you throw pillows again? I can’t recall if Yeosang was more upset about the coffee on the carpet or the rip in the pillow.”

“Definitely the carpet. He hates stains.”

“He hates tears and rips more though.”

“No, he doesn’t.”

“Yes, he does. Have you seen how upset he gets about the dish towels at work?”

“Okay, but have you lived with him? No. Trust me. Stains are his biggest pet peeve.” You shake your head a little bit but decide not to argue with Mingi about it. Still, You listen to his advice and give your coffee one last sip before setting it on the kitchen counter. You hear quite a bit of movement behind you, and you assume that it’s just Mingi bustling about with his belongings. Giving your drink one last quick sip, you turn away from the counter.

Then, the breath is knocked out of you, a sharp force smacks you in the chest, and you gasp in surprise as some tall figure traps you against the counter without warning. You can do nothing except blink at the chest before you, fingers gripping the marble counter that digs into the flesh of your back.

“M-Mingi?” You stammer. You don’t dare look up, your heart descending into shambles at this point (mostly out of shock, yes, that’s precisely what it is, nothing else). “Wh-What are you—what are you doing?”

“Trying something,” Mingi mutters, voice much lower than you anticipated. You nearly choke on your breath. Your fingers grip the counter tighter as Mingi looks down at you. “Hm, interesting.” He steps back, and you inhale a gasp of air now that there is more space between the two of you. You press a hand to your chest in attempts to quell the frantic racing of your weak and fragile heart. Mingi crosses his arms over his chest. His eyes stay on you, and you don’t have a chance to catch your breath.

“In-Interesting?”

Mingi leans forward, and you instinctively lean back at the same time. There’s nowhere for you to go though, you’re still stuck against the counter, and your back bends painfully against the granite.

“Are… are we starting no-now?” You whisper, eyes glued to Mingi’s. His face presses closer to yours. Breath hot across your face, Mingi shifts his gaze so that he’s looking over your features. His arms fall to the counter, entirely trapping you now, one arm on either side of your body, and you forget how to breathe for a moment.

"Do you want us to start now?"

Mingi doesn't look you in the eye; instead, he keeps glancing over your features and following your nose's curve down to your lips. His gaze lingers there. He presses forward a little more, and one of his thighs slips between your legs with ease. Your lips part as you gasp a little, the pressure of his thigh pressing against your inner thighs eliciting a spike in your heart rate.

"Is it working?" Mingi asks after a moment. You can do nothing except exhale shakily as you look him in the eye, trying not to move otherwise for fear of brushing against his thigh again. His stupid fucking thigh that's wedged between your legs. "I'll take that as a yes."

"Is what working?" You hiss out between gritted teeth. Even though you're trying to seem upset, you're confident that your cheeks are the color of tomatoes.

"Can I… can I-I kiss you?" Mingi sounds surprisingly less confident all the sudden, as though the prospect of kissing you is dangerous, even though his thigh resides between your legs.

"Y-yea. Go for it." You grip the counter behind you a bit tighter. Mingi hesitates a moment then slowly leans in to close the gap between you two. Squeezing your eyes shut, you wait for the hard force of his lips hitting yours. It's soft, however, like a pillow against your lips. You don't move, instead of letting Mingi test the waters first. It takes a moment, but suddenly you have the confidence to. You use your weight against the counter to push forward, moving your lips against his with more force. Mingi matches the strength and pushes against you. His thigh involuntarily presses further between your thigh. You gasp into the kiss, clenching around his leg as it brushes your clit, and your hands fly from the counter to Mingi's arms. Mingi pulls back to glance down at your face, which is now surely gleaming with sweat because you can feel the heat radiating off your cheeks.

"Are you okay?" He asks.

As though by instinct, his arms slide closer to your hips. The pads of his fingers barely brush your skin, where the hem of your t-shirt has ridden up. You bite down hard on your tongue. He has a slight flush to his cheeks now that you really look at him, the redness tints his nose and ears, and you can see the slight stutter of his chest as he tries to catch his breath as well. He doesn't wait for a response to his question.

"I wa-want to kiss you again." His tone is quiet, too quiet for it to affect you the way it does, but there's a tightening in your gut as you hear the words. Instead of answering with words, you shift your hands to the collar of Mingi's shirt and pull him closer to you.

"Kiss me then," you mutter. Your breath is hot on his lips, and the action of pulling him to you causes an almost visceral reaction to washing over Mingi. A high-pitched whine passes through him. It startles both of you. Mingi's blush intensifies, and he ducks his head to hide the embarrassment. You don't give him a chance to hide for long, reaching up to push his chin back in your direction, then press your lips to his once more. Mingi sighs into the kiss. He slides his hands closer to you, taking hold of your hips. His fingers are hot against your skin, and you relish in the sensation as you press yourself further against Mingi.

He doesn't let you pull back for air until he's almost running out of it. Even so, he only gives the two of you a few moments to catch your breath. Whatever you were expecting from your first kiss just went out the window because you had no idea this is what it would be, nor did you think you would be sharing it with Mingi. Yeosang’s concern appears in the back of your mind again. The blaring sirens in your ears ring in warning as you drag your gaze over Mingi’s lips. You ignore all warning signals as you dip in for more.

Something tells you that you’re going to regret this.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

If someone had told you that a month ago you would make a deal with your childhood best friend and that deal would entail making out and sexual explorations, you would have laughed in their face.

Mingi? You really think I would even think about him like that?

Yes, well, here you are a month later in his kitchen yet again (how many times this week?). His lips are on yours. You will say that Mingi has gotten a lot more confident with his kissing in only a month, which is quite impressive in and of itself. He’s also gotten more confident in other departments, wandering hands becoming more frequent, whereas you can barely stave off the embarrassment of kissing him. One thing he loves is marking you. Even if you’re just sitting on the couch, Mingi has his lips on your neck and busies himself with pressing mark after mark against your skin.

But not now. No, right now, Mingi has his lips pressed to yours, and he is kissing you with a particular fervor that leaves you both wanting more. You two haven’t gotten very far past the kissing stage. A little grinding here and there, some awkward orgasms, and a few attempts to get in each other’s pants, but Yeosang always seems to make a timely appearance in those moments. You haven’t been caught yet though, which is more than a miracle since you and Mingi are nothing shy of sloppy.

"I want to try something," Mingi mutters even though the two of you are the only ones in the room. He isn't as shy or reserved this time, no, he's carrying a lot more confidence, and there's a fire in his eyes that catches you off guard.

"More than you've already done?" You exhale shakily.

"Yes. Just a little. Maybe." Mingi's tongue slips out and moistens his lips. Pushing his thigh forward, he works your legs apart slowly. His eyes remain on yours, watching for any sign of hesitation, and you sink your teeth into your lower lip. It's uncomfortable at first; the width of his thigh is too much for your smaller stature.

"Hold on." You shift under him and try to get a better angle with his thigh between yours. "Mi-ingi, wait." Mingi halts immediately at your words. You keep shifting until it's comfortable, only for Mingi to further press his muscled thigh against your crotch. You gasp, the sensation pulsing through you. "F-Fuck."

"Language," Mingi chastises. A laugh courses through him before he presses further up against you. You grasp at his shirt, balling your fists around the material, and throw your head back. "Does... does it feel good?" His voice is much more hesitant, confidence lost from his tone.

"Y-Yes. Yes. It – oh, oh." You shake under him as his muscle works harder against your core. "Fuck, for someone who do-doesn't know what he's doing, you're doing just fine." Rocking back against Mingi's thigh, you feel your hesitations slipping away. The pleasure of the feeling is too good for you to care any longer.

"Your reaction is helping a lot," Mingi huffs out as you release a small moan.

"Wa-ait, I th-think I'm close."

"Already?" Mingi asks. You roll your eyes at his remark and slap his arm.

"F-Fuck you."

"I can stop."

"No, no, no." You bite out, teeth gritted together.

Mingi rolls his thigh forward again. An almost pitiful moan leaves your lips as he does. A string of moans continues to escape as he uses his hands to guide your hips against the muscle of his thigh. You brace yourself by holding onto his shoulder, feeling a wave of heat wash over you.

"Oh fuck, fu-uck, I'm cumming," you cry out as the high hits. Your whole body trembles and shakes as the warmth washes over you. Mingi holds you against him as you ride it out, both arms snaking around you.

"Well, that's one idea down." Mingi slowly pulls his thigh away from you. His hands come down to the counter again, forehead coming to rest against yours. The euphoric sensation quickly leaves you, and as the orgasm passes, you find that cold washing over you instead.

"Is it my turn to try an idea out?" You whisper. Your hands find the collar of his shirt, folding around the material and tugging him down to you.

"Yea, I'd like that." Mingi chuckles. His fingers trace down to your sides.

Then – something rattles and clicks, and you hear the door creak. You shove Mingi back in haste, he stumbles back, and you spin around to turn your back on him. Your hands find the edge of the counter and grip it hard. You try your best to seem somewhat normal, but the two of you look more awkward than anything. It’s glaringly apparent that you were doing something, and you can only hope that Yeosang doesn’t put two and two together.

Your face is hot when Yeosang comes into view. Mingi has moved to the fridge in attempts to hide his red cheeks. Yeosang doesn’t notice you right away, still focused on closing and locking the door, but when he turns to see you, his head tilts in question.

“I really thought you were going to another party.” He laughs under his breath. As he moves closer to the counter, his eyes land on where Mingi is positioned by the fridge. A questioning gleam begins to rise up in his dark eyes. “Why the hell is it so awkward in here?”

You sputter a little, rushing to deny the awkwardness, but Mingi makes the situation even worse by turning around and excusing himself.

“I gotta go to the bathroom,” he mutters as he slides out of the kitchen and down the hall. Yeosang’s brows shoot up. You two stay in silence until the door of Mingi’s room clicks shut. You gnaw on your lower lip as you watch Yeosang lower his school bag to the floor.

“You reek of sex.”

“Ex-excuse me, I d-do not!” You stammer, blinking furiously.

“And Mingi was popping a boner.”

“Oh my god, Yeos–”

“What the hell are you doing, Y/N?” The question isn’t spoken with vehemence or anger. Instead, Yeosang sounds tired and disappointed. That almost hurts worse.

“I-It’s no big deal. Just… we’re just learning. Together.”

“Learning together. Yeah, because that always ends well.”

“Listen, Yeo, what would you do in my shoes?”

“I have no idea, because I don’t even know why you thought to do this in the first place.” Yeosang leans against the counter and presses his palms against the granite. His gaze is hot on your skin, so focused on you that you have to look away.

“I don’t know anything a-about relationships or sex. Neither does Mingi. I… I want to know what I’m doing when I have sex for the first time. And when I get in a relationship. Isn’t that normal?”

“It’s normal not to know what the hell you’re doing, yeah. It’s not normal to make a sex arrangement with your childhood friend simply because you’re both horny.”

“That’s not what we’re doing!”

“Then what is it really?”

“J-Just tell me what you would do in my shoes.”

“Is this what you wanted to talk about earlier?”

“Yeosang, please.” Your embarrassment is skyrocketing at an impressive pace, no thanks to Yeosang’s increasingly invasive questions. “Yes, it is. But I didn’t mean for you to ask this many questions.”

“I would never do anything without feelings being present,” Yeosang answers after heaving a deep sigh. “I ask questions because I’m your friend, and as your friend, I worry. So just let me ask questions and worry about the two of you since you are my closest friends.”

“That’s probably a smart decision,” you mutter as you mull over the first half of Yeosang’s words.

“You aren’t going to make the smart decision though, are you?” When you refuse to answer, Yeosang sighs and turns away from you. “Y/N, I guarantee that you will regret this an–”

“It’s fine. Nothing bad will happen.”

“That’s what everyone says before something bad happens.”

“I trust Mingi with my life. Is that not enough?” You counter, arms coming up to cross over your chest. Yeosang squeezes his eyes shut, but you catch him rolling his eyes just before he closes them.

“I understand that, and I know you do. This is something serious. You should feel something for the person you’re giving all your firsts to.”

“There are feelings there,” you snap back.

“Romantic feelings, Y/N. You can’t tell me that you have any of those for Mingi because I know that you don’t.”

“And? Your point? I won’t be giving all my firsts to Mingi anyway.” As your defensive state grows stronger, Yeosang’s disappointment does too. He pokes his tongue out to drag over his lower lip. When he looks back at you, you almost wish he hadn’t so that you didn’t have to see the sadness on his expression.

“I don’t want to argue with you… especially not over something like this,” he mutters, bringing a hand up to comb through his hair. “I trust you, but I hope you will make the right decision about this. Not one that your body wants, but one that your heart wants.”

“I will,” you whisper back, all the fire and anger gone from your tone.

“I just don’t want you to regret anything, Y/N. Or for this to harm your friendship with Mingi.” The words spark an unprecedented amount of anger in you, and you drop your arms to your side.

“You don’t know the type of friendship I have with Mingi. It won’t ruin anything.”

Yeosang doesn’t get the chance to respond because Mingi comes back from the bathroom at that moment. He glances over you and Yeosang. If he notices the spike in tension between you two, he neglects to comment.

“I think I’m going to head home,” you mutter as you try to collect yourself. Mingi’s eyes rake over you in attempts to understand where your sudden departure is coming from. You don’t look back; instead, you stare straight ahead at Yeosang.

“O-Okay, do you want me to walk you out or…?” Mingi trails off. He fiddles with his hands, picking at a loose nail with little interest as he watches you.

“No, I told her I would walk her out,” Yeosang cuts in, finally looking away from you to nod at Mingi.

“Oh, cool. Uh, I’ll text you later, Y/N.”

“Yea, see ya. Tomorrow, I guess? I’ll text you.” You pull yourself away from the counter. Yeosang follows you out of the apartment, hot on your heels as you leave. It’s only when the door snaps shut behind the two of you that he opens his mouth to speak again. You cut him off before he gets the chance. “I don’t need you to worry about us.”

“I — I know you don’t, but you don’t get to decide when I care and when I don’t. I do. I care, and since I care, I’ll worry about you regardless.”

“I know,” you mutter, turning away from Yeosang before he catches the frown on your lips.

“I won’t lecture you to oblivion again, but… I just want you to be careful. I’m scared you’ll get in too deep or regret doing something with him. I know I’ve done that in the past. It’s not a matter of trusting you or trusting him. I just don’t want you to make the same mistakes I did.”

You moisten your lips as Yeosang speaks and mull over the words. Part of you feels bad for jumping down his throat so quickly like you did. You extend a hesitant hand to grip his bicep, squeezing around his shirt.

“Thank you for looking after us.”

“You’re my friends. I would be a pretty shitty person if I didn’t.”

“Still… I’m grateful that you’re looking out for us.”

“I sense a ‘but,’” Yeosang states, shrugging your hand off his arm.

“We’re being careful, that’s all.”

“If you say so.”

You and Yeosang exchange a prolonged stare, then you reach forward to pull the taller man into your arms. He hugs you back with equal enthusiasm, folding his arms around your waist and pressing his face against your shoulder.

“I love you, Yeosang.”

“Love you too, Y/N.”

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

You should know how long it’s been by now. Emphasis on should because you most certainly do not know how long you and Mingi have been exercising your arrangement, and things have escalated in a way you did not expect.

In short, the two of you have gotten bold beyond belief. You barely wait to see if Yeosang is home before going at each other, and that’s not even the worst part.

Last week, Mingi fingered you during movie night with Yeosang. It was awkward, he fumbled a lot and had trouble finding the right angle, but once he did, you had to bite on a pillow to keep from screaming out.

Two days ago, you gave Mingi a handjob in the back of a lecture hall. Yeosang was one seat over. God knows what was going through your mind at that moment because that had to be the dumbest thing you’ve ever done in your entire life. The thrill and rush it gave you was sweet, but as you look back at it, you only feel the hot burn of shame.

And now. This is the worst thing that has happened yet because Yeosang walked in just as Mingi was slipping one hand down your pants. Needless to say, the two of you detached quicker than imaginable. That didn’t stop Yeosang from seeing exactly what was going on, and your whole body burns with the embarrassment of being caught in the act.

“Mingi, you were gonna take me home?” You inquire, turning to the man even though he agreed to no such thing. It’s a desperate attempt to get out of this awful and awkward situation you just put yourself in. Mingi doesn’t seem to realize that right away though, and he blinks back at you with inquiry in his gaze.

“O-Oh? Was I?”

You send a pointed glare his way, and he straightens his back as he realizes what’s going on. You can feel the heat of Yeosang’s presence nearby. Even though he doesn’t say anything, you can sense the disappointment radiating off his body in waves. This is precisely what he was telling you to avoid. Yet here you are. Doing just that after telling him that you had it under control.

“Yes, I was. I remember now. Yeo, can I borrow your car?”

Yeosang’s glare lingers on you. He doesn’t respond for a few moments, and you think he’s going to say no at first. Then he tosses his bundle of keys towards Mingi.

“Fill it up with gas on your way back.” Tone cold and flat. It almost hurts to hear, but Mingi still seems to be oblivious to what’s happening.

“Will do!” Mingi catches the keys with ease. You step around Yeosang to move towards the door. He seems to want to say more to you, but Mingi’s presence deters him. Either way, you’ll get a text from him later tonight saying that he’s sorry and didn’t mean to offend you or snap at you. That’s just how your relationship with Yeosang operates.

Mingi grabs your hand before you’re even out the door, threading his fingers through yours. You dare to glance back at Yeosang. His stare lingers on your joined hands with even more sadness than before.

“So, why am I taking you home?”

“Because, uh, I-I…” You trail off, hurrying to figure out some sort of excuse to get away from Yeosang. “I’m exhausted? Yeah, I’m exhausted.”

“You know you could spend the night with me. We do that… all the time.”

“Yeah, but I just wanna get home. I haven’t been home in hours. Need to feed the cat next door too.” It’s a lie, but Mingi’s eyes light up at the mention of the pet.

“Oh, is Mrs. Parks out of town again?”

“Y-Yep, but I’ll take care of it, so you don’t have to come up!” Mingi frowns at your words, and guilt twinges in your gut a little. It doesn’t last long because the chilly air outside nips at your skin and pushes the feeling away.

You climb into the passenger seat as Mingi gets in on the driver’s side. As soon as you’re settled in the seat, a hand comes down on your thigh. You flinch at the sudden sensation and glance over at Mingi. He acts as though he hasn’t done anything, hand resting on the inside of your thigh and making you look small under him. You won’t admit it to him, but it makes your gut pool with arousal. Mingi pulls out of the parking lot, driving with one hand so that he can keep the other pressed against your thigh. You want to question it and ask him what the hell he thinks he’s doing, but you can barely form a coherent thought. The simple action has you in shambles, and he isn’t even doing anything.

The drive commences in silence, the radio blares in the background, and Mingi occasionally drums the beat of the songs against your leg. You are trying your best to not think about it and just wave it off as a silly and harmless action. Emphasis on try, because every single time you begin to squirm under Mingi’s grip, he smirks. He knows exactly what he’s doing and isn’t even trying to hide the fact that he does.

When he pulls the car into your apartment complex, you don’t get out immediately. Partially because it feels awkward considering what went down in his apartment earlier, and mostly because his hand is still clamped around your thigh. You glance over at him and open your mouth to ask if something is wrong, but Mingi dips in before words get out. His lips hit yours in a mess of teeth and saliva, and you nearly bite the tip of your tongue off. It’s harsher than your first kiss; Mingi puts a lot more force into this one. You respond with an equal amount of ferocity though and reach down to undo your seatbelt. Mingi does the same, leaning into the kiss as he’s freed from the belt's restrictions.

You only part once you run out of breath, still awkwardly holding each other’s faces as you pant into the other’s mouth.

“You never got to try that thing you mentioned earlier…” Mingi trails off, lips brushing against yours as he speaks. You’re caught off-guard, however, completely unaware of whatever he’s talking about. That’s when it hits you. Before Yeosang came into the apartment, you told Mingi that there was something you wanted to try.

“A-Ah, yeah, th–well, yeah. I can — I can try it now maybe.” You stammer your way through the response and try to swallow the bundle of nerves that hits your throat.

“Y-Yeah, go for it. Just… go for it.” Mingi pulls away from you and puts his hands up awkwardly. You aren’t sure what you’re doing either, so you look equally as stupid. Mingi must be aroused from just the minimal kissing because there is a prominent bulge in his pants, and that’s precisely where you reach next. You place a shaky hand over his clothed erection. Mingi’s legs spread further open when you touch him, and you take it as an invitation. You reach for the button of his pants, popping it open, then you tug the zipper down.

Your motions are slow and calculated. You watch Mingi’s face for a reaction with each shift, delighted with the hiss that escapes him as you reach under the band of his underwear and grip his semihard member. You pull the underwear down just enough to expose his cock to the air and your eye. You aren’t sure what you were expecting — you’ve never thought about Mingi’s size — but his girth alone is enough to make you choke on air. You tighten your grip on his cock.

This isn’t the first time you have given Mingi a handjob. It is your first time seeing his cock head-on like this though, because he usually keeps it in his pants whenever you jerk him off. Your intention now is a little different, and you’re nervous about going through with the idea considering his size. You swallow your nerves and lean across the seat to press your lips over the head of his member.

Two months. Now you remember how long it’s been. Because you have spent the past two months reading articles, watching porn, doing anything you can to learn what the hell you’re supposed to do. It’s your first blowjob. Sure, Mingi has never had one, so he won’t know the difference between a good one and a bad one, but that doesn’t keep you from wanting to do a good job.

You start with a few kitten licks to the head of his cock, blinking up at it through fluttering lashes, then you slowly lower your mouth to encompass his shaft. He stretches your lips nicely; it isn’t painful or unimaginable as you initially thought it would be. However, you know that there is no way in hell that you are getting his whole member in your mouth. That’s off the table. He would be halfway down your throat if you tried to do that.

Instead of taking in as much as you can right off the bat, you start small, worshipping the tip of his cock with kisses and licks. He tastes salty; each bead of precum that leaks from his slit is less salty than the last, but you might just be getting used to the taste. You let your tongue explore his length. It runs down to follow the lines of his veins, tracing the tip before dipping back down to run the flat of your tongue over the underside of his cock. It’s heavier than you anticipated, but you have nothing to compare it to, so you can only assume that this is normal.

You begin to bob your head a bit more as you gain some confidence. Mingi releases small groans when your teeth graze his sensitive skin. The sounds encourage you to increase the frequency of your movements. Soon enough, you have to hold your hair back because you’re bobbing up and down too quickly on his cock. Mingi’s moans increase in volume as you continue. That makes you feel a little bit proud because you’re only halfway down his member. You dare to go a little further though, pushing your tongue out further and wetting the next quarter of his dick. As you dip lower, he hits the back of your throat. It triggers your gag reflex in an instant, and you gag around his dick. The sensation must feel good to Mingi because he releases a particularly filthy moan.

You have to pull off before continuing though. You can barely breathe, and nearly gagging on him made you want to throw up. Mingi watches you with eyes filled with lust and desire as you heave a few deep breaths. Slowly you return to his erect member, holding it by the base before pushing your lips back over him. This time, Mingi holds your hair back for you. His fingers entangle in your strands, staying close to your scalp as you hollow your cheeks around his cock. He touches the back of your throat again. This time you are more prepared for the sensation, but it doesn’t keep you from gagging again. Mingi’s hips jerk as you gag around him. He unintentionally bucks up into your mouth, causing you to choke further. A small noise of indignation escapes you, and you groan around him. Again, that must bring Mingi pleasure, because he shifts his hips back.

You smack his thigh when the grip on your hair doesn’t let you up for air. Mingi gets the hint immediately and lets you pull off him. A disgusting amount of saliva connects your lips to his cock. It must look filthy and perverse beyond belief, but Mingi’s dick twitches as you make eye contact with him, spit covering your lips and eyes watering. You swallow roughly. Surely Mingi is getting close to cumming; at least you hope he is because you aren’t sure that you particularly enjoy having a dick in your mouth.

The idea of pleasuring him outweighs your disdain, and you bend back over him to swallow as much of his cock as possible. You make it further than last time, still gagging a little, but it doesn’t hurt as bad as before, so you’re more comfortable continuing it. You bob along his member, and he helps you along a little by grabbing hold of your hair again. He guides your movements like that. Every once and awhile, Mingi will buck his hips up into your mouth and hit the back of your throat harder than before. You have to push the discomfort aside because you’re too damn determined to bring an orgasm over him.

It works at long last after a few seconds of holding you on his cock. You pull off, gasping for air, and Mingi cums in that moment. His seed hits your face, and it’s a good thing that you had your eyes squeezed shut because he would have popped you in the eye if not. You flinch at the contact. It’s as warm as always, but that doesn’t mean you want it on your face. Mingi cusses under his breath as he rides out the orgasm, voice low and gravelly. You shift to look in the back seat, find a random sweatshirt under one of the seats, and use that to wipe your face clean. You can still smell it, but at least you don’t have to feel it on your skin anymore.

Mingi blinks at you in wonder as you sit back in your seat, hands folded neatly in your lap.

“So…?” You trail off. You are a bit embarrassed to ask him what he thought, but you might have to get the words out anyway because Mingi blinks back at you with a dumb expression on his features. “Was i-it — was it good?”

“Fuck yes,” he mutters, releasing another groan. He quickly shoves his softening member back into his underwear and zips his pants back up. You swallow around nothing. “That was… wow. Wow. Damn.”

“Good! Good, yeah – uh, yeah, I’m glad.” You nod awkwardly, unable to look him in the eye all of a sudden. It’s strange how sometimes you can handle the embarrassment of your arrangement with such grace and ease, and other times you can’t even look at your hands. “Well, I’m gonna – I’m gonna go up now. I guess. Yeah.”

“Oh, o-oh, yeah, okay!” Mingi stammers as you motion over your shoulder. He nods along with you then rushes to hit the unlock button on his door. “You… uh, have a nice night!”

“You too, Mingi.”

“Cool.”

“Yep.”

“Goodnight.”

“Night.”

Why are you still in the car? And why the hell aren’t you getting out? Two questions that you will ask yourself for the rest of your life because you aren’t sure what comes over you. All you know is that tears are hitting your cheeks, and you are having a breakdown in the passenger seat of Yeosang’s car with Mingi, your childhood best friend, and the man you just sucked off in the driver seat. It feels filthy now. You’ve never felt so disgusting in your life like you’ve crossed a line you were never supposed to cross or that you have done something you can’t come back from. All you know is that Yeosang was right.

You regret it now.

“W-What’s wrong? Y/N, hey, hey. It’s okay.” Mingi reaches forward to touch your shoulder, but you smack his hand away before he can touch you. The sharp impact echoes through the car. “Y/N… what’s going on?”

“Oh my god. Oh my god. Mingi, what t-the fuck are w-we doing?” Your shoulders shake as you sob into your hands. You don’t even care that you just held a disgusting sweatshirt covered in cum as you rub at the tears on your cheeks. Mingi doesn’t know how to respond. He brings his hands back into his lap and keeps them there as you continue to cry. “W-We’re so fucking dumb. Why? Why did I let you convince me to do this? Wh-Why did you even suggest it?”

“I… I thought you wanted this.”

“Why would I want this?” You shout with sudden rage. Mingi flinches at the volume of your voice, and for a split second, you feel bad. That goes away immediately though as you settle back into your anger. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“You agreed to it!”

“You should have known better. You’re my best friend!”

“I told you to say no at any time. I said if you didn’t want it, we didn’t have to, I told you that. Why are you suddenly so upset now? After what? Two months? Suddenly this is the worst thing in the fucking universe?” Mingi doesn’t look at you as he hisses the words, eyes forward on the steering wheel. You’re shaking again, but this time it’s the anger that causes you to tremble. Mingi is right. You know he’s right. That’s almost more infuriating.

He gave you the opportunity to walk away, he told you that you could say no, he left the door wide open for you to go. And yet you didn’t. For what? What was all this for? For some damn experience for a guy that you know you’re never going to ask out, let alone talk to? Good fucking riddance.

You push your way out of the car, legs shaky and trembling as you go. You don’t stop to look back at Mingi as you slam the door behind you. A few seconds after you leave the car, the car horn blares. You jerk your head to look back at the car and see Mingi slam a fist against the steering wheel. It’s not hard to walk away, but each step has your legs feeling like lead in an unexpected way. It’s hard to not think about your best friend sitting in the car with tears on his cheeks like yours. It’s hard to believe that Yeosang was right, and he literally warned you that this would happen. Yet you still ignored him. Why? Why, why, why?

You’ve never felt more stupid in your life.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

“It’s weird, isn’t it?”

Mingi stands across from you, arms folded over his chest as he watches you pace back and forth in your living room. You aren’t sure why you agreed to bring him here. It’s been three weeks since the two of you last spoke, three weeks since that argument in the parking lot, and you aren’t sure what it was that convinced you to come when he asked to meet. You don’t stop pacing back and forth as you recall a conversation the two of you shared shortly before your fight.

“We kiss and do all this stuff… but I don’t feel a thing.”

Your chest tightens a little, but you manage to at least maintain a straight face as he looks at you pointedly. Still, you continue your small rant with a weaker voice.

“I’ve never been sexually or physically attracted to you. And that feels wrong for some reason. It feels like I’m doing something that isn’t right. Do you get that?”

“Yea…” Mingi trails off, looking away from your face to stare at the wall instead. “Is all love like this?”

“I have no clue.”

“I don’t want to be in a relationship if I’m not going to feel anything. That doesn’t sound enjoyable.”

“No, not at all.”

So why did you continue? Why the fuck did you both think it was a decent idea to let things blow up in your faces like this? Now you can barely stand to look at each other, let alone be in the same room as each other. It makes every damn class awkward and tense. Recently it’s escalated to a point where you refuse to sit near him, finding a new seat across the lecture hall just so that you don’t have to think about the things you did with him while sitting in the back. Yeosang stays at your side in those classes but casts glance after glance back at Mingi throughout the class.

It didn’t take long for Yeosang to confront you about what happened either. He first yelled at you for the sweatshirt incident, but that quickly turned into concern as he recalled the state Mingi was in when he returned home.

“What happened?”

“You were right.”

God, you almost wish that Yeosang had laughed in your face and said that he knew he was right. You just wanted him to lecture you and tell you off for what you did. Instead, you got a sympathetic sigh and disappointed stares.

“You were happier when the two of you were simply friends and nothing more.”

“I know. I knew that a while ago.”

“So why did you keep doing it?”

Why did you keep doing it? A fucking good question because you certainly don’t know the answer. You know that it became a habit in a short amount of time and quickly developed into a bad one. So maybe you have Yeosang to thank for the reason why you’re pacing in Mingi’s apartment with two fingers picking at your lower lip as though it will make you feel better. He told you that you should at least get closure. Closure for what? A ruined friendship?

“Uh, that girl… the girl I like started dating someone,” Mingi says after several minutes of silence. You whip your head to blink at him in surprise.

“And…?”

Mingi shrugs, obviously unsure of what to say next. He turns away from you. Your pacing comes to a halt at last, and you just stand in the middle of the room, staring at Mingi with glaring eyes.

“Makes me wonder, you know? What all of it was for.”

You have to bite your tongue to keep harsh words from leaving your lips. In the time apart, you have realized that not all of this was Mingi’s fault — you are at fault just as much as he is. That apology is so fucking hard to get out because you’re so upset with yourself for letting this happen.

“I’m sorry for getting us into this mess,” Mingi says, bringing a hand up to run through his dark hair. “I k-know there were th-things I sh–”

“It’s not only your fault.” You muster up enough courage to say the five words, then your voice seems to die in the back of your throat. Heaving a deep sigh, you force yourself to continue the thought. “I messed up too. I’m at fault too. I’m sorry for pinning all the blame on you. I was ashamed and embarrassed with myself and my actions, so I truly am sorry for yelling at you the way I did.”

“I… no, I did mess up a lot. Even if you agreed to it, it was still initially my fault. I-I’ve been hiding s-something from you.” Mingi’s words cause your heart to drop. You drop your arms by your side, barely able to look at his guilt-ridden face. Something tells you that you don’t want to hear whatever it is he has to say.

“What the hell is it, Mingi? And why did you wait until now to mention it?”

“I – well, I was scared to tell you initially. Then I was scared to leave without having a… I don’t know a special moment with you?”

“What are you talking about, Mingi?” Your throat feels tight all of a sudden, and you don’t dare look away from the man’s face. It’s his turn to pace now, walking back and forth before you as he wrings his hands together. “Song Mingi.”

“I’m transferring to another school at the end of the week. There is no girl I’m into. Min Hyerin is just a random classmate that I thought could pass as a crush. I-I’ve kinda, uh, I’ve liked you this whole time.”

Your jaw all but drops at his sudden revelation. All the air leaves your lungs, and you can’t look at him any longer, turning to face the wall instead.

“I got scared when you were talking about liking that guy from whatever class it was. Psychology? I don’t know… I was scared, and that’s why I suggested the idea of learning together. Then when we talked about it after I while, you said that you didn’t feel a thing when we were doing things together. All the hand-holding and the kissing and the fake dates… I wanted them to be real.”

“What the fuck?” You hiss out between gritted teeth. You are trying your best to hold your tears back, but reality is catching up too quickly for you to handle. “What the actual fuck, Mingi? You — you manipulated me? I-I don’t even know what the fuck I’m supposed to say. I just–” You can’t even finish the sentence, tears hitting your cheeks before you know it.

“I didn’t want to leave without shooting my shot at least. I’ve been planning to leave for a few months, but I was too scared to hurt you. I’m really sorry. I should have told you sooner.”

“Didn’t want to hurt me? You choose to manipulate me and use me for some sick fantasy of getting off to me while lying the whole time? Throwing away our relationship and using me? Abusing your position as my friend to get in my pants because you were jealous? What the fuck?” Mingi freezes under your barrage of words, seeming to shrink smaller and smaller as you continue. “If you wanted to shoot your damn shot, you should have been honest! Instead of using me and my firsts as a way of getting what you wanted! I hope your fucking happy with yourself.”

“I-I, no, I never meant to hurt you,” Mingi stammers.

“Then what did you mean to do then? Because I’m fucking confused and hurt beyond belief right now.”

“I…” Mingi trails off, unable to finish the sentence. You can barely see him through your tears, and no matter how many times you blink, you can’t get rid of them.

“Just get the fuck out. Just go. I don’t want to see you or hear you or talk to you. I don’t want you in my life anymore. Just fucking go.”

“I can’t. I can’t leave you alone like this. I–”

“Fuck off, Mingi. You can leave me alone like this, and you will. I don’t want any more damn apologies. Nothing is going to fix what you did. So just fucking go.”

Mingi stares at you for several moments without saying a word. You refuse to meet his gaze. Just thinking about being in the same room as him makes you want to vomit, and it causes a physical pain to constrict in your chest. How the hell did you end up here? Things weren’t supposed to turn out like this, things weren’t ever supposed to become this way, and yet here you are. There Mingi is. And between you — the ruins of a crumbled relationship.

And just like that, Song Mingi walks out of your apartment and out of your life, leaving a giant dork sized whole in your memories, but to you, it only feels like a waste. It was a waste of firsts and special moments. The effort put into a pointless relationship that ended in flames because you weren’t careful enough.

Perhaps one day, you will regret it and feel bad for cutting him off in such a cruel and hasty way, but you block Mingi’s number and all of his social media accounts. Yeosang gets the hint not to mention him even though he still keeps in contact with Mingi on occasion. He asked you to move into Mingi’s empty apartment space, and you said no at first. It was too much to think about, being in the same house where he lived, and it made you think about all the things you did together while there too much. Then Yeosang offered to move into Mingi’s room so that you could have his own instead, insisting that he was worried about you and wanted to at least look after you in some way. So you decided to agree and move into Yeosang’s old room. Eventually, you get used to the new arrangement and learn to deal with the bad memories that linger in your mind as you live there.

It takes time to do so – six months to be exact – with the passing of the semester and summer break and the entrance of the new school year that bleeds into the beginning of December far too quickly for your liking. It’s a cold and snowy Wednesday morning when Jung Wooyoung sits beside you in psychology, and yet it feels like nothing you’ve felt before. The cold doesn’t leave a mark on you, only Wooyoung does, a branded image over your cold heart when he turns and smiles at you, brushing long strands of black hair out of his eyes.

“Hi, I’m Jung Wooyoung. I don’t think we’ve met before.”

⁂ ⁂ ⁂ a/n: hi and welcome to the end of this way-too-long fic! i would really really love feedback and would love to know what you think of this part, as it is setting up for the future installments of the series, but it could be read on its own for its own story. but anyway! let me know what you think and thank you so much for reading :(

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carothepoet · 4 years

Text

Perspectives

If anyone had asked, Jack would have said that he fell in love first. Somewhere in the murky middle of fiery blue eyes daring him to dismiss her capabilities, the comforting squeeze of her hand when an alien device pinned him to a wall, her uncanny ability to manipulate the laws of physics to save his ass over and over again, and the moment on a Goa’uld vessel with an energy field separating them and death staring them in the face, Samantha Carter had gotten possession of his heart and soul and taken up permanent residence there. That last instance was when he had known it for sure—looking into her panicked eyes and realizing he had two choices: leave her or die with her. Knowing also that there was no choice to be made, because there was no version of him in any reality that could go on living in a world without Carter.

Sir, just go!

NO.

It was a staggering revelation, and it complicated things a whole hell of a lot. He kept it to himself until it was forced out of him, and then he and Carter looked into each other’s eyes, counted the cost, and vowed to never speak of it again. The fate of the galaxy was too important. But no amount of pretending could change the reality, which was that he still loved her beyond all comprehension. He went about the days as normally as possible, leading his team and fighting the endless alien wars, trying not to think about the possibilities of someday, when it was unlikely either of them would stay alive that long. He hoped, at least, that he would go first. There is only so much loss a man can take.

Four years later, after he had saved the planet countless times and nearly died in every single instance, he was offered a position at the Pentagon. He jumped at it. Maybe now. Maybe? It seemed too much to hope.

He told Carter. You once asked me what might have been if things had been different. Well, now they’re different. Still interested in finding out?

He’d never forget the light that flooded her eyes, her smile out-dazzling the sun, as she practically launched herself at him and smothered him with a kiss eight years in the making. He’d kissed her once before, when the SGC had been trapped in a time loop. But this was better. This was real. She was kissing him, and she would remember it this time.

And with any luck, there’d be many more kisses to follow.

If anyone had asked, Sam would have said that she fell in love first. Even on the day they met, when Jack been a condescending ass and acted like she wasn’t worth his time, he’d changed his attitude the second she stood up to him. And then he’d insulted Samuels just to get a reaction out of her and she’d smiled before she knew what she was doing. I shouldn’t encourage him, she’d thought to herself, and he must have read her mind and considered it a personal challenge, because he’d had her choking back laughter and smothering smiles ever since.

It was unprofessional, of course, these forbidden feelings for her commanding officer. But she couldn’t help it, any more than she could help laughing at his stupid jokes. She thought, sometimes, that maybe he felt it too—there was a certain tenderness in his eyes when he smiled at her, and he often sought her out in her lab when she was buried in experiments.

Watcha doing? he would ask. She would explain. He would pretend to be too dumb to understand, say something absurd, and she would laugh. Get some rest, Carter. That’s an order.

He said her name like an endearment, and she held on to those moments and savored them. Maybe she was imagining things. Maybe he didn’t love her. But she loved him, and she would follow him to the ends of the universe and save his ass as many times as he needed her to.

It ended up being a lot of times.

She went through hell and back trying to keep him safe, and she couldn’t decide if the revelation that he loved her back made it better or worse. Some days it was definitely worse.

She held on to hope until she couldn’t anymore, and then proceeded to almost make the biggest mistake of her life--nearly marrying Pete Shanahan. But when her father was dying, it was not Pete who stayed with her, who wrapped his arm around her and promised to be there for her, always. Sam looked into Jack’s steadfast brown eyes and saw the rest of her life.

By the time Jack was promoted to the Pentagon, she’d made up her mind. If he didn’t bring it up, then she was going to. She was damned if she would wait another single second when they both knew.

In the end, he brought it up. He’d barely gotten the words out of his mouth before she found herself kissing him, and the amazing thing was how familiar it felt, as if her lips had belonged on his since the beginning. His arms were home and his lips were both lazy Saturdays and off-world adventure, and every bit of pain and struggle and longing had been worth this perfect moment.

Stay with me, Carter?

Always, Sir. Always.

If anyone had asked, Teal’c and Daniel would have said that they knew Jack and Sam were in love long before those two idiots were aware of it, and that they had an ongoing debate on how long Jack and Sam could hold out before the unresolved sexual tension became too much to bear. Teal’c, for his part, maintained that both of them were far too professional to ever let their feelings get in the way of missions. Daniel wished they’d just get a room already and to hell with the consequences.

But it went on. And on. And on. For eight years. Eight years Daniel and Teal’c had to witness the yearning and the pining and the noble self-sacrifice; had to watch them fall apart with fear whenever one of them went missing; had to watch them try not to fall apart with relief when the other one finally turned up again.

Oh, you have returned! I worried about you a completely normal amount. I definitely did not push my health to the very brink of functioning in an attempt to rescue you. I missed you so much I couldn’t breathe, but, like, platonically. Of course.

It was exhausting.

No one was more relieved than Daniel when, on the same day that Jack accepted his position in DC, he came to Daniel’s house with the news that he and Carter were officially A Thing, but they did not want a big deal made out of it; and furthermore—

Fucking finally, said Daniel.

Jack grinned wickedly. Couldn’t have said it better myself.

If anyone had asked, General Hammond would have categorically denied knowing anything about it. Not that he didn’t see things. He saw pretty much everything that happened at his facility. He saw, for instance, the way Colonel O’Neill and Major Carter sat just slightly too close together at the briefing table; her knee brushing up against O’Neill’s arm as it rested on the armrest. He saw the looks they exchanged with each other; the way they could communicate paragraphs with a single glance, with a subtle lift of the eyebrows. He saw how O’Neill’s eyes softened when Carter entered the room; how Carter’s whole body lit up with suppressed mirth when O’Neill uttered whatever absurdity had made it past the brain-to-mouth filter.

He saw Carter’s desperation when O’Neill was stranded on Edora, and O’Neill’s despair when Carter’s brain was taken over by an alien entity.

I know Major Carter means a great deal to you.

She’s a very valuable member of my team, Sir.

Even with Carter’s likely and imminent death staring him in the face, O’Neill would not accept comfort from his trusted commanding officer if there was even the slightest risk it might damage her reputation. But he sat at her bedside and refused to leave it until she came back to herself.

Hammond often questioned whether their obvious attachment made them an asset or a liability. But time and again, SG-1 came through and saved the world, and he knew the effectiveness of that team came down, in large part, to the deep bond between O’Neill and Carter. Splitting them up could put the whole planet in jeopardy.

So, officially speaking, he saw nothing. And privately, unofficially, he was rooting for them. Because, damn it, the both of them had been through their own kinds of hell and they deserved to be happy.

He retired and left the facility to O’Neill. He was taking a final farewell look around his office when O’Neill swaggered in.

Hammond smiled. Are you ready for this?

Oh, absolutely, Sir. Not the slightest bit of…trepidation. O’Neill’s face belied his words, and Hammond reached out to put a hand on his shoulder.

There is no one better for this job than you.

I will do my best to fill your shoes, Sir.

Hammond turned to go, hesitated, and faced O’Neill one last time. Jack, may I give you a piece of advice? As a friend.

O’Neill’s eyes narrowed with suspicion, but he gave a quick nod. Sure.

I have been a military man for most of my life. But I am also a family man. And while I would never advise you to break regulations—

General—

No, hear me out. Hammond put both hands on O’Neill’s shoulders and looked him in the eyes. If you love her, find a way to make it work. You won’t ever regret it.

O’Neill blinked, perhaps in shock, and then his eyes began to twinkle. I don’t know what you’re talking about, General.

Of course you don’t. Hammond gave him an understanding clap on the shoulder and walked out.

Eighteen months later, when the wedding invitation arrived in the mail, he knew he should have been surprised but he wasn’t. On the back of the invitation, in Jack O’Neill’s distinctive scrawl, were two words:

No regrets.

Hammond threw back his head and laughed.

It was about damn time.

#stargate sg1 #stargate sg1 fic #jack x sam #jack o'neill #samantha carter #daniel jackson #teal'c #richard dean anderson #amanda tapping #fanfic

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misha-moose-dean-burger-lover · 5 years

Text

“Okay.”

"I want a boyfriend."

Dean says it quiet, not looking into Cas's eyes. He feels Cas's arm around him tensing. His head's still on Cas's chest, one hand on his stomach, caressing the skin.

Neither of them has uttered a word since they fell like this on the bed, tangled in each other, just basking in the lazy ecstasy which follows sex. Their chests have stopped heaving, and their hearts have stopped thudding - but they've not moved apart.

They haven't fallen asleep.

Maybe, in some way, they knew this talk was coming. Dean and Cas have been hooking up for months, and pretending it hasn't been happening for longer than that. Dean knows they've both had difficult pasts - Cas had had to run away from his family, and the first girl he fell for had ruined the last of his trust in people. Dean himself has had a tough time coming terms with himself, and dealing with John's voice in his head telling him what he is, isn't natural.

But after long years of struggle, and fight, and therapy, he's no longer that guy. His sexuality doesn't take away his right to want things for himself. He deserves to be happy.

He owes it to himself to let Cas know how he feels about him. Missouri had reaffirmed it too. He owes it to Cas.

But in his defense, Dean hadn't planned on letting it out like this. In bed, at one am, pining and conspirational.

He wonders what Cas will say. He wonders if it was a mistake. He wonders if he should've shoved the principles of dealing - Missouri's book kept talking about - up his ass, along with Cas's dick, so that he forgets all about what's right and what's healthy, and focuses on what's good.

Cas is good.

Dean already regrets ever opening his mouth. It's been too long of a pause. And then, Cas speaks up.

"Okay." It's all he has to say apparently, but when Dean's fingers trace their way up his skin, his chest feels heavy. His heart feels distant.

Still. As long as his arm's still around Dean, and his breath is still in Dean's hair, it's all good. It's so good that Dean doesn't pay attention to the way Cas's breath hitches, when Dean peels himself off of Cas, and settles on the pillow instead, ready to sleep. It's so good, that Dean's smiling up at the ridiculous glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling when he drifts off, and completely misses the haze of tears clouding the blue, when Cas stares at him.

He just goes to sleep, euphoric.

Dean wakes up, alone.

He pulls the blanket closer, and it's still so cold. Cas's shirt and trenchcoat are missing from the chair on which he'd discarded them last night. He closes his eyes, and a tear rolls down his face.

He can't find Cas anywhere. Dean's looked where he works, and he's looked where he lives - it's like Cas just disappeared.

He could just have said no, Dean cries into a lonely whiskey glass. Why did he have to say okay?

A week goes by, which feels like an entire year. Maybe more. But time thuds to a stop, as if to make up for it, when Cas shows up at Dean's office.

He just stands at the door, miserable, his tie so completely wrong, that nothing is right.

Nothing, but Dean getting up with shaky knees, dragging him in by the lapels of his overworn coat, and slamming the door shut before cupping his face with both hands and kissing him for all he's worth.

"Dean -" Cas tries to say, and the bastard would've probably apologized, but Dean doesn't want to hear it. He doesn't want anything else, but Cas. Around him, inside him, everywhere.

He pushes Cas against the nearest wall, and pins him there with his hips, and his hands move up Cas's back, angrily grabbing at the shirt. He slams their faces together once again, and in a clash of teeth and tongue, they're kissing again, desperate and breathless, until Cas lets out a moan when Dean's hands wrap tighter around his waist, and Dean freezes.

He pulls back. It feels like sense returning to a madman, and he regards Cas, sullenly.

"No, Dean, please -" Cas begs, hands reaching out, and Dean should've taken a step back when he could, but now Cas is pulling him back with a hand at the back of his neck, fingers in Dean's hair, and Dean goes, of course he goes, whimpering as Cas kisses him again, gasping and frantic.

They don't pull away this time, for almost too long, and Cas is trailing breathy kisses from the bolt of Dean's jaw down to his collarbone, and Dean's back is arched, hands lost in Cas's hair, lips chanting Cas's name like it would kill him to stop - when the first tear falls from Dean's eye, and hands on Cas's cheek.

"Dean?" Cas pauses, eyes utterly wild.

"You still want me." Dean whispers, like it's a secret. Or maybe a lie. Or more definitively, an accusation. Why would Cas still kiss him like that?

"Yes." Cas straightens, and swallows. His expression changes. It's like he's trying to be strong. "I need you, Dean." He swears, almost. "You're you - of course, I want you."

"Then why leave?"

Dean can't get himself to say the whole thing. He can't make it more demanding. If he had to say all of the words, he couldn't have done it.

Cas just shakes his head.

Dean stares at him. What does that mean? A million different things go through his head at once. Cas doesn't want to tell him. He cannot tell him. He doesn't know. He cannot say.

He didn't leave. That one makes the least sense, but it resonates with the air.

Cas looks like he wants to say something. Then he looks like he wants to say something else. And then he looks like he wants to kiss Dean again.

But he did leave. Dean asked him to be his boyfriend, and he agreed - and the next morning, he left.

He fucking left.

After a beat, with a resigned scoff, Dean lets out, sardonic. "I don't think you know how to be a boyfriend." But somehow, he does it at the exact same time Cas says, "Weren't you looking for a boyfriend?"

Dean's the one who reacts first.

"Huh?"

"You wanted a boyfriend." Cas repeats, flatly. He associates such despair with the word, that Dean wants to punch him for it.

"No." He snaps. "I wanted you."

"You what?"

Slowly, his eyes widen.

And then, his jaw drops.

"What the fuck is going on, Cas?" Dean scrubs his face with his hand, and looks down at the floor. "All I know is, you said okay, and then you disappeared."

"I thought," Cas looks horrified. "I didn't think you'd want to see me anymore. Not after we were done! After you told me you wanted a boyfriend, on a night I almost told you I loved you, and instead I said okay, because you told me you wanted -" His voice trails off, eyes blinking rapidly, realization seeping in.

Dean freezes.

"I wanted -" His voice trembles. Maybe he moves closer to Cas. "I thought it was clear what I wanted."

"What did you want?" Cas breathes out, moving closer too. sounding panicked.

"You." Dean breaks down, and Cas immediately wraps his arms around him, holding him up. Before closing the gap between them, Dean adds, for the last time. "I wanted you to be my boyfriend."

The kiss is different from the ones before, but just as passionate as it is soft. It's Cas's turn, apparently, because tears start to fall from his eyes, and Dean swipes the pads of his thumbs over his cheeks, hands cupping Cas's face, and kissing him fully, and thoroughly.

"I love you." Cas confesses into a kiss. "So yes, yes, a thousand times yes."

Dean holds him tighter. "Okay." He lets out, with a shuddering breath, before Cas smiles a little, and puts his head on Dean's shoulder. "Okay."

Later, when they're both piled on top of each other on Dean's chair; naked, exhausted, and secretly thankful for being vagina-less so they don't have to worry about just having used a wallet-condom, Dean asks Cas, in the most incredulous tone he could manage. "I can't believe you thought I wanted to date other people."

Cas ducks his head.

"I mean, even if we let go of the fact that I'd just come till I could see the stars, from your dick in my ass - I was literally spooning you, as I said it." Dean huffed a small laugh. "What kind of a jerk would I have to be to break up with my yearlong-hookup when my head was on his chest?"

"A really big one." Cas agrees, sounding guilty. "But I just had to have really low selfesteem, and that part checks out." Dean frowns at him, but they both know it's not something they're going to address at the moment. So, Cas goes on. "And in any case, how could you ever think that my response to you asking me out would just have been okay?"

"I thought you were tired, okay?" Dean defends.

Cas hums.

"Shuddup." Dean grins, leaning in to peck his lips. "And in my defense, okay shouldn't have been your response to a metaphorical being-dumped situation, either."

"Well, I'm sorry." Cas returns, graciously. "I promise to beg you to keep me, the next time it happens."

"There won't be a next time." Dean growls at him, in the mood to be truthful. "You're stuck with me."

"Gladly." Cas mouths, and Dean probably imagines the way his cheeks pink when Dean says it, which is frankly adorable, but before he can lean in to kiss his glittery smile, there's a sound at the other side of the door, and Dean shuffles in his seat abruptly, reaching for his shirt and causing Cas to fall to the floor with an overexaggerated grunt, which sets him laughing.

Apparently, you can't fit two six-foot-tall men on a single officechair.

And that’s okay.

#destiel #dean winchester #bisexual dean winchester #castiel novak #bisexual castiel #dean/castiel #cas/dean #destiel angst #destiel ficlet #destiel kiss #destiel smut #john winchester's a+ parenting #OKAY #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #destiel AU #modern!verse au

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thatesqcrush · 4 years

Text

Neighbors, Pt. 3

Rafael Barba x Reader. CW: angst, pining, language. Episode references: Nationwide Manhunt (SVU) & The Song of Gregory William Yates (CPD). WC: 1892

AN: A non-smut chapter? Who am I? Forgive me for typos.

The next morning you woke up startled. You rubbed your eyes and tried to make sense of your surroundings: you had fallen asleep on your couch, the TV screen black (with the flashing reminder to turn off your TV if not watching). Your alarm was screeching from the bedroom and there was pounding on your door. You reached for the remote and turned off the TV before going to answer the door. You stood and paused, groaning as your head began to throb.

You undid the deadbolt but left the security chain on and cracked the door open. “Oh, Raf – it’s you.” You replied with a sigh of relief. “Hold on.” You closed the door and undid the chain and then re-opened the door. You both stood there in the doorway, staring at each other, nothing being said. Finally, Rafael opened his mouth, taking the first step.

Can I come in?” Rafael looked fashionably sensitive, in his dark tapered jeans and oxford shirt, with his sleeves rolled up. You cocked your head and wondered if the Harvard lawyer truly knew how handsome he was.

“Sure.” You replied, opening the door wider to let him in. “I have to turn off my alarm, give me a second.” You walked down the hall to your room. “Look about last night…” You called out as you turned it off.

Rafael gave you a shrug. “Don’t worry about it, detective.”

You gave him a look that was half-bemused and half annoyance. “I have a name. What did I tell you about that?”

Rafael crossed his arms and grumbled an expletive in Spanish, which made the corner of your lips twitch slightly, knowing that you could get under his skin a little. “Y/N.” He replied, his voice clipped.

You let out a small laugh. “I am just teasing.” Your smile faded quickly. “Seriously, though, I’m really sorry.”

Rafael eyed your unkempt appearance and gave you a small smile before shaking his head. “You were hurting and drunk.” He pulled you into a tight hug, squeeze and you took a deep inhalation of his cologne which comforted you. Reluctantly, you broke the hug.

“I think we should keep things professional from now on.” Rafael announced quietly. He shifted his footing and shoved his hands into his pockets. He didn’t miss the hurt that flashed across your face.

You straightened and took a deep breath. “Duly noted.” After a beat, you continued. “And I think that’s best.”

Rafael nodded slowly, taken a bit by your quick agreeance. “So…” Tension quickly filled the room and the pounding in your head intensified.

“Want to get some breakfast before work?” Rafael suggested. “Just as colleagues.” He added for good measure.

“If you don’t mind waiting…” You waved your arm over your haphazard appearance.

“Not at all.”

You started walking backwards towards your bedroom. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be out in a bit.”

Under the hot steam of your shower, you wondered when everything got so fucked up and longed for the days when things were so simple. When you emerged back into the living room, you paused as you slipped on your watch. Rafael was sitting on the couch, watching CNN. There was something so domestic about it. Your heart skipped a beat.

‘No. Focus.’ You thought to yourself. You plastered a smile on your face and put the kibosh on any feelings that were forming. “Ready?”

Rafael turned off your TV and stood, turning to face you. “Absolutely.”

As you walked by, Rafael grabbed your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. “Hey – are we okay?” He pointed his finger at you, then at himself. You winked.

“Of course. Now, lets get some food. I’m starved.” The waft of your lavender shampoo made its way to Rafael’s olfactory sensors and he felt his stomach twist painfully as he followed you out the door.

You both settled at a diner near One Hogan Place. You ordered an egg scramble and whole wheat toast and Rafael ordered an everything bagel with lox. Copious amounts of coffee were had. You were grateful for easy, though at times stilted, conversation. As Rafael settled the bill – which he insisted on doing – a breaking news alert on the overhead TV caught your eye.

You flagged down a waitress. “Excuse me, can you raise that?” The waitress nodded and raised the volume. The reporter’s words shook you to your core. Rafael watched as the color drained from your face.

Breaking news: two inmates from Green Haven Correctional have escaped. Both Yates and Rudnick were serving life sentences for multiple counts of rape and murder. They should be considered extremely dangerous. Officials are cautioning that anyone who sees them or has information on either of the two men should not attempt to interact with them. We will keep you updated as this story continues.

You stormed into the bullpen with Rafael following at your heels. “Liv! What the hell are we going to do?”

Olivia cocked her brow at your outburst. “Y/N, I take it that you heard the news.” She took off her glasses and sat on the corner of Amanda’s desk.

“We’re going to run this by the book. We’re headed up to Green Haven. Hank and I spoke, the 21st is going to meet us there. Y/N, you’re staying here.”

“Like hell I am!” You snarled.

“Y/N, it’s best if you stay here. We are keeping you safe.” Liv replied softly. “Yate’s baiting you.”

“After using me to talk to him, you decide now to bench me? If he wanted me, he would have had me already.” You replied angrily. You slammed your hand on your desk. Rafael put a hand on your shoulder and you shoved his hand off.

“If I'm bait, let me be bait. I can draw him in. Let me do my job.”

“You are too personally invested. You need to stand down.” Olivia replied sternly.

“No. I need to come up. Just… I can help from behind the scenes. I won’t do anything stupid.”

“Famous last words.” You whipped around and stared at Amanda who gave you a knowing look. “Look Y/N, I know how Yates works too. I can put myself out there – use me.” Amanda replied.

“All due respect, but no.” You retorted. At that moment, your phone buzzed. You pulled out your phone and looked at the text. “It’s Erin; I have to take this.” Rafael didn’t miss how your face crumbled as you walked out to take the call.

State troopers, FBI, ATF, SVU and CPD all converged at a local church in Stormville, just 90 minutes outside of Manhattan to begin the search for Yates and Rudnick.

“NYPD's Special Victims Unit and Chicago Intelligence are here to give specifics about the fugitives.” Warden Lucille Fenton announced.

“These guys are intelligent. They're motivated. They're charming, and they are without conscience.” Olivia began. She listed their heinous acts on her fingers. “Their crimes include rape, kidnapping, torture, and murder.”

“Now, Yates is definitely capable of hot-wiring cars. He's adept at identity theft, and he is highly manipulative. Especially when preying on young women.” You continued.

“Rudnick can blend in easily. We know that he assumes disguises, usually of an older female.” Sonny finished.

“We've already begun house-to-house searches and roadblocks. Air support with heat sensors and infrared will be in the air within the half hour.” Major Bowman with the State Troopers announced.

“Search every inch of this county. My staff has pulled security cameras, visitors' logs, and personnel files.” Lucille turned to Olivia.

“Okay, my team can help with the interviews.” Olivia agreed, before going over to you.

Rafael watched as you and Olivia spoke from the other side of the room. “Hey, how bad are these guys?” Lucille asked Rafael quietly.

Rafael swallowed hard. “Think Robert Durst and Ted Bundy on the run together.”

After an exhaustive search that came up empty, Olivia advised that a local hotel was putting up everyone for the time being. “Those who can keep going, we appreciate it. Those who need to rest… rest and come back.”

“Y/N, why don’t you get some sleep.” Rafael suggested, taking in your worn appearance. “It’s been a long and hard day.”

“I’ll rest when we have Yates and Rudnick.” You replied, pouring another coffee. As you reached for the sugar, you knocked over your coffee, spilling it all over on a table that had been set up at the church. You swore and scrambled for napkins to clean up. As Rafael helped you, your ex-fiancé, Adam approached.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Adam questioned. “Need help?”

“I got it!” You snapped. You took a deep breath. “Sorry. Just on edge.”

Adam walked around and reached for your arm, stopping you. You looked at Adam and Rafael watched as Adam pulled you into a tight hug, his arms wrapped around you. Rafael could see the appeal of Adam with his rugged looks. You melded into Adam’s embrace. You opened your eyes and met Rafael’s. You tried to read his face, but he appeared stoic and impassive.

“I think I am going to head to the hotel a bit and get some rest.” You replied breaking the hug. You grabbed the soiled napkins and shoving them into the now empty coffee cup. Your hands were sticky and smelled like coffee, to which you crinkled your nose in disgust.

“I am too.” Rafael replied, shaking himself back to present. “Want to ride together?”

“I’ll drive.” Adam offered. “Come on.” Rafael followed behind slowly as Adam and you walked ahead, Adam’s arm wrapped around you.

Rafael felt something in his guts churn that felt an awful like jealousy. Rafael let out a huff and you turned your attention to Rafael. Rafael didn’t say anything and you felt more puzzled than before.

The next morning, Rafael knocked on your hotel door, hoping to check in on you. You opened the door, clad in nothing but an oversized t-shirt, that barely skimmed the tops of your thighs. Rafael swallowed hard.

“Hey – “ Rafael began. His voice trailed as he looked past your shoulder, watching Adam walk in the background.

“What’s up? I told Liv I’d be down in 20. Has there been an update?”

“Um, yeah – overnight Carisi and Rollins apprehended Rudnick. He was discovered hiding in a docked boat by Caroga Lake. Rudnick suffered multiple injuries.” Rafael replied. Adam joined from behind, tugging on his shirt. Rafael ignored him, focusing on you.

“I'm not shedding any tears.” You replied, as you crossed your arms, leaning against the door frame.

“Yates hobbled him - broke both his knees, his ankles, pierced his eardrum. Just left him to die.” Rafael continued.

“Should have let him. Is he talking yet?”

“Only to Carisi, and he's in and out of consciousness. He did indicate the plan was to cross the border at the Saint Lawrence River.”

You turned, pushing past Adam and grabbed your jeans, which were laying on a heap on the floor. “Come on – lets go.”

“What are you going to do?” Rafael asked.

You holstered your gun into your waistband. “What I should have done a long time ago.”

“Olivia…”

“Olivia nothing. Now, Rafael – just get out of my way.”

Rafael looked at Adam. “You’re going to let her just go after a serial killer?” Adam scoffed. “No. I’ll go with her. We’ll see you at the church.”

TBC.

Tags: @madpanda75 @ @mgarner1227 @beardedmccoy @tropes-and-tales @prurientpuddlejumper @youreverycolor @neely1177 @the-baby-bookworm @mrsrafaelbarba @skittle479 @ottosuricato @delia26 @sass-and-suspenders @mommakat32 @dreila03 @beccabarba @garturbo @lovebennycolon @imjustreallynosy @sweetsummertime99 @whyissvuruiningmylovelife @annabelleb49 @scarletsoldierrr @cesarofangirl78 @redlipstickandplaid @redlipstickandblacktea @zoeykaytesmom @differentshadesofgray @misssirenlove @esparza-army @bananas-pajamas @mishaissocoolike @thefanficfaerie @theenchantedgalleryofstories @catnip987 @choppedgalaxynerd @pieceofshittytitty @ktiz90 @evee87 @itsjustmyfantasyroom @blk0912 @detective-giggles @rampantmuses @jazzyjoi @caked-crusader @rachelxwayne

#rafael barba x reader #rafael barba imagine #chicago pd x svu imagine

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bangtan-dreamland · 4 years

Text

[2:01 A.M.]

Pairing: myg x reader

Word Count: 1383

Warnings: nothing that I can think of, they’re just sharing a bed together and cuddling

Rating: pg13

Genre: angst (?), I mean reader is pining over Yoongi so...

Summary: A moment in the late night, where you contemplate your feelings for your roommate and crush while you’re in his arms.

A/N: The final Yoongi-centric drabble request! Thank you to the person who asked for this, I picked bed sharing!! I hope the drabble is good ^^

yoongi + whiskey + pining?? maybe add in another trope, you can pick!

•·················•·················•

In the silence of the night, it’s all too easy to be lulled to sleep by the steady beating of Yoongi’s heart.

Your body splayed over his, legs tangled together and arms holding each other close. In this position, in this moment, it’s almost all too easy to fall. To fall into the belief that he’s yours, and that you’re his, or to simply fall for him, for Min Yoongi.

But to say that would be presuming that you haven’t already fallen for him, that your heart doesn’t already beat triple fast in the close proximity that you hold with him.

This up close to him, your face centimetres from each other, and the moonlight from the window shining down on you two, you can see every part of his face clearly. You could could the eyelashes on his face, not to mention how it’d only take a brief movement, a small one, to brush your lips against him.

Your cheeks redden when you realize where your thoughts lead you.

Still, it really would be all too easy to lose yourself, to take another inch closer even if just to surround yourself in the tempting warmth that he gives off. Would be all too easy to slide your arms over and around his waist, the exact same way that he’s holding you right now. Would be all too easy to tilt up, to bury your face into his chest and breathe in the intoxicating scent that he always carried.

He’d probably pull you closer.

And that’s what makes you hesitate.

Yes, you’d have your wish granted. But at what cost? Here you are, cuddling with Yoongi in bed, daring yourself to tread deeper into this hole where there is no light at the end of the tunnel that you can see, if there even is one in the first place. You could snuggle closer, indulge in the moment, trick yourself into thinking that, even for a moment, you are lovers laying in bed together- but come morning, you know that you’ll have to wake up from this dream.

The mere thought of it makes your heart ache, heavy from the feelings you didn’t dare face.

You feel- exhausted.

Not only from the lack of shut eye, but also from the internal struggle you’ve been facing ever since you fell into bed with him tonight.

Or so you say, but really, recently all your nights have been like this. Laid out in bed together, your bodies warm against each other, not even the lull of the evening can bring you to rest the few times you’ve slept together (platonically, your mind whispers). Instead of sleeping, you find yourself wide awake, your heart pounding and your mind racing, looking for answers where there’s none to be found. Replaying past events over and over in an attempt to investigate.

Wondering just how you got to this point without you realizing it.

Thinking back on it, the first time had been coincidental. That night, you went to see a horror movie that your friends assured you wouldn’t be so scary, and therefore could you watch with them? They’d lied, or maybe they thought the movie wasn’t that scary- but for you, as you came home to your flat that night, you were too scared to be alone. So you found yourself knocking at your roommates’ door, asking Yoongi if he could share the bed with you for one night.

Yoongi was just your roommate then. Your quiet roommate, who you first thought was cold and uncaring, who barely gave you more than a few words and never a smile. You didn’t think you’d last long with him as a roommate.

But then, you muse, your eyes half-lidded as you watched him sleep peacefully, it happened.

One night- a month and two weeks into your new arrangement. You arrived home exhausted after the shittiest day ever, looking forward to just collapsing in your bed and to just sleep. But you were supposed to clean today, and to cook dinner and maybe get groceries, something that only occurred to you after you’d woken up, hours into the late evening.

You expected him to be angry, to scold you, to glare at you. You didn’t expect the plate that awaited you on the table, carefully covered and prepared, ready to eat.

Yes, Yoongi wasn’t the cold person people made him out to be, yet even so- you didn’t think he’d answer then, when you asked to sleep with him. And you definitely didn’t think he’d say yes. But he did, and as awkward as it was to adjust to each other on the bed together, you uncomfortable with the small space but not wanting to intrude in his either, the moment he’d had enough and pulled you into a close but loose hold, you’d instantly melted in his arms.

Your heart beat faster than anything before, but- you fell asleep before not even five minutes had passed.

It’d been one of your best sleeps yet.

The next morning, you’d woken up to Yoongi still resting, his face perfectly peaceful, and like a switch, you felt your heart skip a beat.

Badump.

You ignored it then. It was only once, right, and even Yoongi didn’t seem to make it a big deal.

But then came the next night, the two of you falling asleep on the couch together. And the next, and then another, and another.

Months later, and it’s only gotten worse.

What are we?

If he were awake, if you had the courage- you would ask him. Do you like me? Do you like me, the way that I like you?

Does your heart beat as fast as mine right now? Are you thinking of me?

Am I allowed to have hope?

You can’t free yourself from the heavy weight of the thoughts that plague you. So of course, it’s Yoongi himself who pulls you back to reality.

“... Y/N?”

Yoongi’s voice is rough with sleep, the type of rough that you’ve become accustomed to waking up with, would like to wake up with for the rest of your life.

But it’s not one you’d hope to hear right now.

Knowing that Yoongi wouldn’t call out to you if he hadn’t seen you awake, you reluctantly look up at him, smiling a little. “Hey, Yoongs,” you mumble quietly.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” Blunt as ever, you suppose, the thought filling you with amusement and making you struggle to keep your composure at the same time. You, you want to say. You’re the reason why I’m not sleeping.

But you can’t tell him that. At least, not now. Not when he’s half-awake, and not when you’re not ready yourself. So you smile at him, dipping your head to position yourself into the crook of his neck, so that you’re tucked under him.

“Couldn’t stop thinking about that movie we watched,” you murmur. “Sorry… I’ll try to focus on sleeping now,” you add. For a moment, there’s silence- and then Yoongi sighs.

You feel slender arms wrap around your waist, as hands come up to gently pat you on the head. Yoongi’s scent grows even stronger as the distance between the two of you is shortened to almost nothing but centimeters, and- oh, your heart skips a beat one too many times.

“... Don’t worry about it. I’ll keep the nightmares away.”

Yoongi’s voice in the late night, groggy but still warm, his body warm against yours, hands gently stroking your hair… how could you even think of resisting?

“Thank you,” you whisper, afraid to speak more, afraid that with just a little bit more push, you’d be spilling out everything you’ve been bottling up. “... Thank you,” you say again, the feelings hidden behind those words everything to you.

For a moment Yoongi’s hand stills.

“... Yeah, yeah, just go to sleep already.”

You smile.

You can worry about the consequences later, worry about the way your heart is falling- has fallen- too hard and too fast for him.

Right now, you’re content to let him pull you closer, and pretend. This is a dream, and in the morning you’ll return to reality, but- it’s nice to pretend, if for just a moment.

You’ll let yourself have that at least.

#bhqdrabbles #bangtanhq #bangtanscenery #bangtanfairygarden #ficswithluv #bts x reader #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #bts fic #bts drabble #yoongi fic #yoongi drabble #yoongi angst

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lunarthedragon · 5 years

Text

Demon!Jaskier moments because it won’t leave my head!

+++

The meat suit ages around him. He can feel it grow every passing year, stretching and contorting over a too-big entity.

The original soul died far before it was born into this world. It allowed him to step in and takes its place. His brethren are like vines that choke out trees, retaining their shape even as the mighty oaks or pines wither and die beneath them.

He is like a weed with a lovely flower atop it. Mistaken for something meant for a bouquet, but even when identified, still plucked for flower crowns or innocent gifts.

Eventually this body will fail and he will move on, finding a new host. He remembers all his previous, and he will continue to remember. He likes mischief, not malice. The physical world already has enough of the latter and he finds himself falling more and more in love with this world with every life.

+++

He calls himself Jaskier in this life. He always gives himself another name. He’s a bard this time, traveling and experiencing with a song on his lips.

He meets all kinds of people. Some are so kind and jovial. Some want to spread love in ways he never understood but feels deep in his bones.

Some try to hurt him. Swindle him. Take what little he has. Cut him down and make off with the meager coin in his pocket and lute on his back.

With black eyes and black veins and fingers and claws as dark as night he faces these people down and leaves them as nothing more than stains on the side of the road.

+++

Jaskier likes Geralt of Rivia. He has liked many individuals within his lives, but Geralt is unique. That is rare, to find someone that stands out through thousands of years of lives.

Geralt thinks he’s a nuisance, but sometimes looks at him strangely. Like he can’t figure him out.

The Witcher can tell something is wrong. Can smell the sulfur deep under Jaskier’s flowerier scents. He doesn’t understand it, though, because Jaskier doesn’t act like a threat. He simply wants to experience life and see every corner of the world.

“You’re not quite... right...” Geralt says once and Jaskier doesn’t look up. Doesn’t quit playing his lute, even when the beds of his nails turn black.

“Not quite wrong, either,” he says back and Geralt is silent.

+++

Jaskier has no sway on physical monsters, but the incorporeal? They fear him. They know something is not quite right with him. An ancient darkness that lurks, too big a shadow for too small a frame.

Some have called him energumen before, but he is too old for that. Too powerful. He still walks in the shadows of fallen castles. Bones ache from cries of battles long fought. Eyes burn from the conjunction of the spheres, like it happened only yesterday.

He is not energumen. He is not a hag or a spirit. He is not a monster.

He is Jaskier. At least... this iteration is.

+++

His bodies always fail from old age or when they are too damaged for even he to mend. It is rare for the damage to be too great, for earthly weapons can leave no permanent damage.

He has held his severed head atop his shoulders and forced the skin to knit back together. He has shoved his heart back into his chest then pressed his ribcage back together. He has grown new eyes and limbs when absolutely needed.

Every time, his blood runs black, he stinks like volcanic rock, and all the sounds around him die out in fear for the entity that does-not-belong-too-much-too-little-too-cold-hot-choking-screaming-maiming-mending.

+++

The art of holy infusion has been lost to time... Which is nice for him. Holy weapons are the only things that can do him harm. Not his body. Him.

But with a shift in beliefs, a change in knowledge, a war and “cleansing” of the lands, the practice is no more. It makes his journeys far less worrying. It is still not pleasant to be run out of towns or stabbed in his sleep or shot in the back with arrows, but he at least knows he will not perish.

He still has a scar on his right thigh, a deep gash, from an angelic blade suffered millennia ago. It follows him in every body he takes, a permanent marking he will always carry.

+++

He can smell the magic wafting off the princess the moment he and Geralt walk into Cintra’s court. It is rancid with untapped potential, forced down deep into her body, crying out for release, and growing sour and sharp with every passing day.

He knows it will hurt her if she does not let it out.

He thinks the magics of this time are a step backward from what they once were, but if he said that outloud he fears he would sound like a crotchety old man. And, after accusing Geralt of being just that, he’d rather not.

So he plays, avoids angry spouses, flaunts about, avoids a few more angry spouses, and does his job as a famous bard.

Queen Calanthe reeks of chaos, too. Not the magical kind. The kind one chooses to wield. As if, rather than inheriting the magic, she harnessed it in her blades and armor. In her words and decrees.

She does not hold it back, either, and it sends cold shivers down his spine.

He plays some more. Only bright, playful jigs, at the queen’s request.

When the knight arrives Jaskier can feel the curse, like the air before a lightning storm, long before the helmet is removed.

Duny does not wield chaos. It coats him like chains. It tethers him down to a manmade fate. It feels wrong, but more like a sore on your arm that wasn’t there before. Something to be mended. To be treated.

Not wrong-but-right like Jaskier.

He tries not to get involved, even when Geralt jumps in. The Witcher is heroic to a fault, no matter how much he says he isn’t. It may be one of the reasons Jaskier finds himself infatuated with him.

Not in love. Not yet.

But when the fighting slows, seemingly ending, and Jaskier can feel the chaos whirling around Calanthe’s intentions, he knows things are not yet done.

When Princess Pavetta screams, the pent up, acrid stink of her chaos erupting into something thick and crushing, everyone is knocked away. Except him.

He forgets to be knocked down. He stands right where he started, whirlwind ripping apart the room around them, enamored with the way Pavetta’s chaos changed upon release. It is beautiful, in a way. It makes his skin tingle like mint.

As he steps forward, unbothered by the maelstrom, his eyes turning black, he approaches the floating couple with a smile. He takes ahold of the princesses ankle and gives a gentle tug, somehow managing to gain her attention. She’s in a daze, enraptured with the cursed knight, and when she looks down at the black-eyed bard, she isn’t afraid.

“I think you have made your point,” he says, not raising his voice yet somehow still heard over the storm.

Pavetta stares. And stares. And stares. Then nods before she and Duny begin to sink to the ground and the storm dies out around them.

Geralt won’t stop staring at him, even though his eyes are no longer black. He offers no answer, only keeps smiling, and Geralt is only distracted when Duny speaks of returning a debt.

When Geralt - exhausted and confused and ready to be done with the evening - calls for the Law of Surprise, Jaskier tilts his head curiously. He can feel the two souls within Pavetta long before she vomits onto the floor. Not a possession. Definitely not a possession.

Jaskier slips away before anyone can recover from the shock and ask him questions he doesn’t feel like answering.

+++

Jaskier does not see Geralt for a year after that. They travel on their own, yet Jaskier can always feel the Witcher hot on his heels. Not that he is being purposefully tracked and followed, more like a tugging of souls. Heart strings tied together and pulling each other along.

They will meet again, he knows, so he is in no rush.

He travels to places long, long forgotten. To corners of the world not meant for mortal eyes. To pockets of space hidden away from wandering fools.

He travels.

+++

“Jaskier,” Geralt heaves, breathless and covered in blood, both his own and the monsters’. He’s gasping for breath, sword held in one fist hanging low at his side. The night is lit only by a sliver of a moon, but Geralt can surely see everything, what with Cat running in his veins. His eyes are pitch black, skin ashen, and black veins creep over his face.

Jaskier’s own black eyes stare back at him, monster blood dripping from black hands held loosely at his sides, black veins arching over his shoulders and neck and chest.

A hoard of wyverns, a nest of them, lay dead at his feet. Some dropped dead, seemingly with no injury, others with chests burst open from the inside, others still cut clean in half.

All with their heads intact, so Geralt can collect what he needs. Jaskier knows the drill.

“I always liked this look,” Jaskier says, waggling his claws at Geralt, a smile on his face. “Copying my style, I mean. Very flattering.”

Geralt stares, seemingly unaware of the multiple injuries coating his body. Adrenaline is surely running high, along with whatever other potions he’s consumed prior to Jaskier happening upon him.

He doesn’t mind traveling at night. He needs no sleep and nothing in this world frightens him. No monster or blade, anyway.

It was how he happened upon Geralt fighting a losing battle and he had to step in.

He tilts his head when the Witcher says nothing but keeps staring. “Allow me to treat those wounds, then, yes? You’re in no state to do much of anything but sit there and look pretty.”

He takes a step forward but stops when Geralt raises his silver blade at him. The glare leveled at him is hot, black eyes meeting black eyes. “What are you? What have you done to Jaskier?”

He huffs and sets his hands on his hips, thoroughly unimpressed. “I am and always have been Jaskier,” he says, Geralt’s brows furrowing and his nose flaring.

“Sulfur,” Geralt says slowly, beginning to piece things together. “You’re an energumen.”

“Close, but no.”

Geralt’s eyes narrow. “Are you not a demon possessing a human body, then?”

“This body was stillborn when I stepped in, and I suppose the closest qualification for me, in broad terms, is ‘demon,’ but energumen is a modern term. I am older than such labels and I do not, quite, fit,” he says flippantly. “Not quite wrong. Not quite right.”

Geralt stares at him in silence, attempting to determine what his next course of action should be, and Jaskier grows tired of waiting.

“Enough with the sword, too. Silver. Steel. Platinum. Iron. Doesn’t matter. None of them will work on me,” he says and, suddenly, he’s in front of Geralt and the silver blade is back in its sheath. The Witcher’s arm is still extended and he flexes his empty hand in surprise, before lurching back.

“What--”

“Stop moving so much!” Jaskier snaps, grabbing hold of Geralt’s shoulders and shoving him to sit on the ground. “You’ll aggravate your wounds, you big lug. Let me see.” He doesn’t wait for a response, blackened hands moving to remove armor.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Geralt demands as Jaskier treats his wounds, cleaning them as best he can with no stream nearby.

“My apologies, my dear,” he says brightly, offering a thin smile, “But, do tell me, is revealing I am an otherworldly, eldritch horror, parading around in a new flesh bag every lifetime, with powers long dead to your world something I should reveal on the first or second date? I know I’m meant to save sex for the third, but I was never good at following that rule.”

Geralt glares at him and he keeps smiling, unfazed.

The silence stretches on for a bit until Jaskier gets Geralt standing again and making their way towards where he can sense Roach’s presence. They will fetch the wyvern heads later.

“I wouldn’t have killed you,” Geralt says on a whisper, beginning to sound tired a his potions wear off.

“You couldn’t have,” Jaskier replies.

“I wouldn’t have tried.”

“Good to know, but I enjoy living a normal life. The physical plain is an intriguing and lovely place. I do not find sharing my true nature to be of the utmost importance.”

“How long have you been alive?”

“This body has been alive for 28 years.”

“Not the body... you.”

“I am not alive.”

Geralt takes a deep breath, clearly getting frustrated, and Jaskier smiles to himself.

“How long have you been around?” the Witcher growls through clenched teeth.

“Long, long before the most recent conjunction of the spheres.”

“Most recent...?”

But Jaskier waves him off as they reach Roach. The Witcher’s face has returned to its natural color, the veins are gone, and his eyes are golden once more. Jaskier, on the other hand, hasn’t changed back and Roach whinnies in alarm. It’s a little insulting, but Jaskier just pauses to lock eyes with the horse and push some of his own essence towards her until she calms in recognition.

He smiles, pleased, then digs out the rest of the medical supplies from a saddle bag to finish patching his Witcher up.

+++

Part two to come? Maybe?

#the witcher #the witcher netflix #jaskier #geralt #geralt of rivia #nonhuman jaskier #demon jaskier #fanfic #geraskier

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imnotoverlyobsessive · 4 years

Text

Looks Like Someone Picked a Whole Bushel of Oopsie Daisies: Prologue

yeah okay I ship pinecest and I’m writing a soulmate AU nobody asks for or needs but you know what either I write it and not post it or I write it and post it so I might as well post it. If you’re not into pinecest, that’s fine, you can skip on by. TBOAS chapter 23 is coming out soon.

Regarding this fic, let me explain a few things about it. So in this universe, everyone has a soulmark that appears as soon as you touch your soulmate. It's exactly the same as theirs. Soulmarks appear regardless of age, but once you hit seventeen, you start to feel an insanely strong attraction to your soulmate whether you've touched them already or not. When you do actually touch them, you get a very very strong urge to, well. Bone. It's also very draining to be away from them for too long, so most soulmates who find each other move in with each other right away, just so it's easier on them. There are no laws against incest-y soulmates, but it is still strictly taboo. Most people think that incestuous soulmates should just live separately and not be around each other at all. It’s not gonna be the most angsty fic on the face of the earth, but there is definitely gonna be some in there. And probably a healthy amount of sexy stuff because, despite being in a happy relationship, I am also a huge pervert and like to see my ships do the do so that’s gonna happen. Buckle up. And now, without further ado, welcome to the prologue of Looks like Someone Picked a Whole Bushel of Oopsie Daisies. Starts under the cut.

“No one is ever ready to be a parent. We’re all just varying degrees of not ready.”- my Mom

August 30th, 1999, 10:42pm

“…and as we get closer and to the new millennium, more and more people are coming forward with opinions on the new studies indicating that 17% of mated couples are actually siblings, with an astonishing 73% majority being twins. We have one of the researchers here who has her own opinions about the issue, Dr. Eleanor Robinson. Thanks so much for joining us this evening, Dr. Robinson,” said the news reporter on the television.

Mildly interested, Mr. Will Pines took a sip of his can of Pitt soda as a blonde woman in a lab coat came on screen.

“No problem, Robert, happy to be here,” said the doctor.

“So Dr. Robinson, are these statistics true?” asked the reporter.

The doctor nodded. “Yes, absolutely. I participated in the research myself, and we made some very interesting discoveries.”

“Really?” The reporter leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “What kind of findings are you at liberty to share with us?”

“Well,” the doctor continued. “We’ve found that biological sex doesn’t seem to have much of an impact on the soulmarks showing up. The rules seem to be the same as they are with anybody else- except the twins we’ve studied, their marks have been there since birth.”

“So they never have that “ahah!” moment the rest of us experience when we first touch our soulmate?” Robert wondered.

The doctor twisted her lips slightly. “I wouldn’t say that, exactly. They get the same sort of… electricity when touching their soulmate prior to accepting the bond, and they certainly feel drawn to them both romantically and sexually, but that doesn’t happen until later in life.”

“Oh, so they don’t experience it as children, then?”

“No,” Dr. Robinson shook her head. “As with all children who find their soulmate early in life, while touching them does cause the mark to show up, it does not elicit any biological reactions until both parties are at least seventeen.”

“Interesting,” the reporter said with a nod. “And is it true that you support attempts to eliminate the social backlash that these couples experience?”

“Oh, absolutely, absolutely,” Dr. Robinson nodded. “Soulmarked couples are in no way at fault for their feelings for one another, and should not be criticized or judged for acting on those feelings. It’s completely biological.”

“What about the risks of inbreeding? Is that a concern?” Wondered Robert.

The doctor shook her head. “Not really, no. Soulmarked couples are at a much lower risk of genetic birth defects, because they are chosen partially because of their abilities to produce the healthiest children each individual is able to produce. So you see the statistics of soulmarked couples who aren’t related compared to couples that are not soulmarked, and the percentage of birth defects in the former is so much lower than the latter that I’d have difficulty believing it had I not done the research myself.”

So, wait,” the reporter interrupted. “There’s no risks at all?”

“Well of course there are risks, there are always risks when having a child,” reasoned Dr. Robinson. However, with soulmarked couples, the risks are vastly lower than with non-soulmarked couples. The pregnancies are much safer, the births are much safer, and the children themselves are much healthier. According to the research we’ve done, that doesn’t change in the slightest when factoring in the biological relationship, if any, of the couple.”

“Fascinating, just fascinating. Do you have any personal recommendations for parents who have soulmarked children?”

“You mean children who are soulmates with their siblings?” The reporter nodded, and Dr. Robinson tilted her head slightly in thought. “Well,” she began. “I’d recommend that those parents don’t panic or try to separate their children from each other. Even at a young age, after you’ve already had your soulmark appear, not having your soulmate nearby at all can lead to difficulty concentrating and depression. This can, of course, be counteracted with medication, but that’s wholly unnecessary if you allow the children to spend adequate time together in a way that’s age-appropriate and healthy. Supervise them, of course, but the reason most people move in with their soulmate as soon as they find out they share a soulmark is because it’s incredibly draining to be apart. As a doctor, I cannot, in good conscience, recommend attempting to have them live separately if it can be avoided.”

Mr. Pines snorted. Obviously such a thing could never happen. Not to anyone he knew, anyway.

At that moment, Mrs. Caroline Pines staggered into the room, one hand clutching the wall and the other clutching her very large belly.

“Will!” She cried out, wincing. He whipped his head around, startled. “It’s time,” she told him in a shaky voice.

In their haste to get to the hospital, he barely managed to turn off the television.

~~~~~

Six and a half hours later, Mrs. Pines had given birth to two children, a boy and a girl. She was too exhausted to give them names just yet, and when the nurse placed them in her arms, she smiled tearfully.

Mr. Pines smiled affectionately at his family. “I’ll be right back, honey. I’m going to go grab us some water bottles.”

She barely noticed him, cradling her newborn children.

Mr. Pines jogged out of the room and found the vending machine down the hall. Putting in fifty cents for each water bottle, he leaned down to grab them from the vending machine. Standing back up, he heard a horrified screech he recognized as belonging to his wife.

He felt a horrible drop in his stomach. No. No, it isn’t possible.

“Caroline!” He called out, running as fast as he could, coming to an abrupt stop at the hospital room door, his shoes squeaking on the waxed floors as he did. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

Two nurses had taken the children from Mrs. Pines, rocking the newborns in their arms to calm their crying. Mrs. Pines was sobbing uncontrollably, clutching at her hair. A third nurse was desperately trying to calm the new mother down, but was unsuccessful.

“Their wrists!” She gasped out. “Look at their wrists, Will!” The drop in his stomach worsened, and dread filled his veins, but he did as she told him, gently turning each squalling child’s wrists so that he could examine them.

To his horror, he discovered what had upset her so much. Both children had soulmarks.

And they matched.

~~~

Thoughts? Questions? Comments? Concerns that aren’t insults about my new ship? Cool, message me! I’m always happy to talk about pinecest.

#gravity falls fanfiction #gf fanfiction #pinecest #mabel pines #dipper pines #fanfiction #fanfic #looks like someone picked a whole bushel of oopsie daisies #my writing

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adonis-koo · 5 years

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| 6 |

↳ Summary: You came with the intentions of your best friend landing a job as a stripper. You never meant to catch the eyes of the king stripper of the establishment- Jeon Jungkook, yourself. With what was supposed to be a harmless way of paying off college debt faster you find yourself falling into a very odd and passionate relationship with your new mentor. Between infidelity, passion and jealousy there’s never a dull moment at Cherry Bomb.

↳ Pairing: Stripper!Jungkook/Reader

↳ Genre: Smut, fluff, angst, drama, slice of life, relationship problems without the relationship, reader is such a shy baby protect her, MUTUAL pining, so much sexual frustration,

Word count: 13.8k

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// Playlist //

Song mood

Tags: Heavy petting, excessive foreplay, Jungkook reveals his daddy kink, nobody is surprised, mild sub/dom play, dirty talk, light spanking,

Warning: This story touches on both sexual harassment and abuse, please read with caution if any of these things are triggers to you. Additional warnings will be given when a chapter presents them.

TW: Sexual harassment and attempted rape are mentioned and referenced in this chapter please read with caution if these are triggers for you <3

Sitting awake in your bed, with a tightly clasped phone and an angry expression, this was not how you wanted to start your day. What was his problem? You didn’t mean to offend him- but it didn’t seem like the Jungkook you knew would’ve took it like a personal attack, why was he acting like such a jerk?

Squeezing your phone you groaned roughly rubbing your eyes, well aware of the dark circles plaguing them from your all nighter, you were already tired you really didn’t need this added on top of your building list of stressful things. With in the short span of Jungkook you had never caught him in a bad mood before and this had thrown you for a loop more than you wanted to admit, briefly you thought about just missing practice altogether for some much needed sleep but you remembered the show you had tonight.

Flopping down you groaned louder as you shoved your pillow into your head, you’d have to practice for tonight in order to not spazz out meaning you’d definitely have to go, finally after coming to terms with the fact you pulled yourself out of bed before showering and getting ready.

You couldn’t get the conversation you shared with Jungkook out of your head though the entire walk to work, what had you done to warrant such a reaction from him?

You cycled through your memories before stopping at the spat he had with Hanjae, he did seem extremely broody when you left him behind, but he was fine with you at work...No- he wasn’t actually- if you were correct in remembering his brief glare on you. But he up until that point understood your weariness and respected that it was your choice.

He wouldn’t change his mind on it, right? All of your thoughts and brainstorming lead to nothing but dead ends and by the time you got to Cherry Bomb your eyes were tired and your brain near dead from too many thoughts between finishing your thesis, the lack of sleep and now having to figure out why Jungkook had been so harsh with you.

You didn’t want to say his comment on you acting like a kid hurt, but it did. It was something you were already insecure about due to other people, and he probably didn’t even know that, but still. It hurt. You swallowed your sensitivity as you pushed the doors to Cherry Bomb open, remembering your silent vow to thicken your skin.

You didn’t think you’d ever have to start by ignoring Jungkook’s hurtful comment, but here you were pushing it to the back of your mind.

The sting was still evident though, surely he knew how much his opinion of you affected you, you could feel your hands beginning to quiver only to tighten them against the strap of your bag, it was too early in the morning and you were too tired for so many emotions overrunning your whole body.

You were anything but a soda drinker, but at the moment your body needed the caffeine to stave from crashing to the ground in exhaustion forcing you to swallow the bubbly liquid like it was your life line. Taehyung had bedhead and a pretty brunette sat on the stool beside you as he began stocking up alcohol behind the counter, his gaze staying on you briefly before he frowned, “You look tired Y/n.”

“I am,” You groaned, collapsing your upper body on the counter as you sighed, “I had to stay up to finish a thesis for one of my classes today, I feel like total garbage and to boot Jungkook’s been such an ass this morning.”

You could hear Taehyung snort a laugh despite his apologetic tone, “Sorry- That sounds awful, but what’s up with Jungkook? He looked really broody this morning when he came in.” He seemed a little curious as he continued putting bottles up onto the high shelf.

“I don’t know,” You sighed, resting your head against your arms as you traced patterns against the cold granite countertop leaving a brisk nip against your open skin, “It’s honestly stupid- I tried to apologize but he brushed me off…”

The brunette frowned sympathetically at you and given how smiley she had been around Taehyung, you could easily take a guess in assuming this was his love Yeri who gave you a gentle smile, “You’re Y/n right? His trainee? He’s always been a hot and cold guy so it can come in phases...he was the same way about me for a long time,” She shifted a little in discomfort at her own words before she hummed, “But he’ll come around, he always does- I’m Yeri by the way.” She let out a small sheepish laugh as if realizing she didn’t introduce herself.

“Oh I figured as much,” You returned her smile, looking a little more tired and less bright in the eyes as her before your expression slowly melted into a frown, “I hope so, I know we haven’t known each other long but I’ve never seen him like this before, it just feels so out of character.” Yeri gently rubbed your back as soothingly as she could as she frowned delicately, pity in her eyes at your exhausted figure, you must’ve looked liked a kicked puppy, you honestly felt like one too…

“No Yeri’s right, he goes through phases and tends to isolate himself at times. I’ll warn you Y/n,” Taehyung frowned as he picked up the bottle of gin, “Jungkook bites as hard as he loves, don’t push him to talk too much or else he’s gonna push back. Just give him some time, everything will be okay.” He gave you a sweet boxy smile in encouragement as you sighed, nodding at his words before hearing Jimin call all of the fillers to start up on the days practice. Getting up from your spot you dragged your dead body to the back of the room as usual.

Today had been particularly miserable, Chan Hee wouldn’t stop passing snide comments your way and your water bottle seemed to magically be replaced with pure vodka, as if things weren’t hard enough you had also received three texts from Hanjae demanding to see you soon to talk. Everyone seemed unable to leave you alone- except for the one person you had been hoping to talk too. Time had passed too fast and it was already 9:45- well past the time Jungkook usually picked you up from the main room.

Should you go back on your own? You still didn’t feel one hundred percent comfortable walking back on your own unless Jungkook specifically stated you needed too and he hadn’t even greeted you this morning like he usually did before he went back to practice on his own. Should you send him a text? Worry was beginning to gnaw in your stomach and you couldn’t keep yourself from fidgeting, you didn’t like being on bad terms with Jungkook, it left you feeling both empty and anxious at the same time with a bitter twinge of the last memory you spoke.

You were never one to hold a grudge for long- if at all. He could call you childish all he wanted- you were used to it by now anyways, you just wished he’d tell you what the problem was, what had you explicitly said that set him off? But in the end, if he wasn’t even going to accept your apology, you supposed it was useless. You glanced at the hallway again, feeling a twist of hurt bubbling in your stomach as you glanced back at your phone, one text wouldn’t hurt, right?

You could barely seen your screen as droplets of tears pattered against your phone, you told yourself you weren’t going to cry! But you couldn’t stop the sniffle from escaping you at how cold his words were. What could you have done to make him like this? You didn’t deserve this kind of treatment furthermore no matter what you did. Why couldn’t he just talk to you?

“Guess we know who finally dropped the little baby,” Chan Hee stood in front of you, her voice going higher in a mocking baby tone as she snorted a laugh, “What did you expect? Someone like Jungkook would never waste his time on a girl like you. Might as well start packing up now.” You opened your mouth but all your lips did was quiver as more tears dripped down your face causing her to laugh again. You must’ve looked pathetic.

Chan Hee’s words were just salt on an already open wound, maybe she was right, he clearly wasn’t about to waste his time on a single word you had too say, his curt, cold message was clear of that.

Rubbing your eyes you intended to ignore her until the familiar Nike shoes of Seulgi came into view, “Fuck off you dirty fiend, don’t you have another girls life force to feed off of?” She instantly wrapped her arm around you defensively as she gritted her teeth.

Chan Hee only rose her brows before laughing, “Keep your bitch on it’s leesh L/n.” She said nothing more before whipping around and sauntering away. Seulgi looked ready to pummel her into next week but stopped at your sniffling before her expression crumbled.

“Is it Jungkook?” She asked frowning, three words and another sob broke from your lips and your vision of your blurred again as you closed your eyes defeatedly while nodding, “Awwh don’t cry Y/n, I’m sure he’s just having a bad day, have you tried texting him?”

You nodded trying to muffle your sobs as you noticed people beginning to glance your way, the last place you wanted to cry your eyes out was in the main room of Cherry Bomb in front of dozens of fillers, “He said we’d talk later,” You tried to calm your breathing by inhaling slowly, forcing the bubbling of your cries down your throat before swallowing thickly, “I can’t force him to talk Seulgi, I think...I think I’m just gonna head home, I need to get some rest before class today.” You wiped your eyes as she sent you a look of pity while frowning.

Giving your shoulder a squeeze she nodded, “Get some rest babe you need it after today, see you tonight?” She asked a little hesitant, as if unsure if she’d see for work. And as much as you wanted to just take the whole day off, life went on and you were being dragged along for the ride, you really needed the money tonight and you’d be not only depressed, but also broke if you decided to stay in, “Yeah, I’ll see you tonight.” You nodded before giving her one last look and heading out the door.

Could today get any worse?

“Now just step forward, it’s important you keep your weight on your standing foot so when you go to turn your working leg in it’s a lot sharper and gives a more clean look,” You demonstrated, turning your left leg towards you before turning it out once more. Both Namjoon and Seokjin looked utterly adorable as they studied your position, as if taking mental notes before trying it themselves.

Relaxing from your position you nodded as you watched them give it a couple of tries before smiling, “See! It’s not that difficult, it just takes practice to get the movement, can we play it with the music so I can watch?” You laughed at both of their grimaces before Seokjin groaned and nodded. Taking a seat by the mirror you pulled out your phone before turning on the music, watching them work on the combination again, Namjoon had gotten off count and Seokjin was still struggling with his foot placing but you couldn’t help but beam with pride, they were such quick learners and hard workers! If they kept up the good work they’d be great in no time at all.

They were near out of breath by the time they finished the combination but you were already up on your feet excitedly clapping your hands as you grinned wide, “Awesome job guys! I know it feels like you aren’t doing well but you really are! Results just take time to see, like anything else.”

“I don’t know how you have the energy to do this every day on top of work and practice.” Namjoon admitted as he took a drink from his water bottle, wiping the sweat from his brow as you gave a small laugh, tugging on the strands of your ponytail as you shrugged. It was taxing but after so long your body had eventually got used to the demanding hours dance took.

Adding stripping into the mix and extra practice for that threw your body for a loop, not used to giving even more energy and admittedly your feet had been tired and sore from being on the go for so long especially with the heels you wore for work.

“You get used to it after so long,” You offered a small smile before shrugging, “Trying to get used to work is the more difficult part for me, but I’m surviving…” Your smile melted at the thought of Jungkook before sighing, you still hadn’t heard from him the rest of the day and currently you had just finished up your own practice with Namjoon and Seokjin, who had came by after your own rehearsal and planned on heading to work from the studio together.

Both Seokjin and Namjoon exchanged glances before giving you sympathetic looks of their own before Namjoon spoke up, “Don’t take it to heart Y/n, Jungkook is just going through the motions right now, I tried telling him to not give you the cold shoulder but he brushed me off this morning, he can be a stubborn ass when he wants to be.”

You tried to keep your lips from not quivering but the idea was upsetting, so he really was giving you the cold shoulder? You didn’t want to say you were desperate for an answer but you didn’t like being on bad terms with anyone, let alone Jungkook, “What did I do Nam? Why is he so upset?” Your eyes were glossy and pleading as you fiddled with your fingers, letting your gaze drop to the floor as you swallowed back the sob that wanted to filter through your lips.

Namjoon sighed before he ran a hand through his hair, giving you a sad apologetic smile, “It’s really not for me to tell, and even if I wanted too he hasn’t really told anyone what’s going on. He’s just been brooding the whole day, Rosé tried to talk to him but…” He cringed before sighing.

It was Seokjin who spoke up next, his expression a little more irritated as he crossed his arms, “That kid really needs to get it under control, one of these days he’s gonna lose the few people he has left if he keeps acting like this,” He looked a little ruffled but then you remembered Rosé was his trainee once upon a time, a natural protectiveness for the girl was obviously still there even after so long, “Seriously Y/n, Jungkook has a good heart but he has a temper and emotional maturity of a five year old, it’s not an excuse for his behavior but he’ll get over it, he usually does.”

You felt a little better, but you still couldn’t help but be worried. If there was anything you could do to rectify wherever things went wrong with Jungkook you’d do it in a heartbeat. You just wished he’d give you a chance. Seokjin sighed before wrapping an arm around your shoulders, “Come on, we better get to work, I know you’re on stage tonight, right?”

“Well yeah…” You shrugged before frowning as you all exited the studio, Namjoon had been kind enough to pick you up from your apartment and had said he’d be more than happy to drive everyone to work, it was the least he could do considering you were helping them free of charge.

You’d never accept their money though even if they tried, you were all broke in college and even as soloist you had become aware that they were still very particular on how they chose to spend their money. Arriving to Cherry Bomb it was already in full swing, your shift was short today and you weren’t about to complain, you just had a few dances on stage before being able to go home. Your wallet would be crying at the lack of hours but atleast you’d get home a little earlier than normal.

Sitting down at your vanity in the filler room the chatter bounced off the walls and you could feel a few girls passing you stares while talking, you wouldn’t be surprised if you and Jungkook were the topic of Cherry Bomb right now, especially given your embarrassing breakdown earlier that morning. God why did you have to be like this? Pressing the fake lashes on you stood up to start getting changed, you were beginning to get used to the risque lingerie.

The black lace thong that rode up your ass wasn’t as uncomfortable anymore granted you had finally broke down and started wearing thongs more regularly in your day to day attire to try and become more used to the feeling, the tight pushup bra you put on however was still a foreign feeling when all you wore was the opposite every day.

The room had suddenly became a lot more hushed when the door opened, making you furrow your brows as you pulled the skirt up to your waist, turning to look only for your eyes to meet the burning pair that focused only on you.

Jungkook had been talking to Namjoon as his eyes flickered over you, whatever tension he had in his shoulders relaxing but his expression only hardened further before he turned to continue his conversation as if you didn’t exist.

“Yikes.” One of the girls next to your own vanity whispered to her friend before they before sniggered at your expression, forcing your eyes back on your vanity as you swallowed thickly. Refusing to acknowledge the pang of hurt in your chest at his treatment of you as you continued getting dressed.

You’d be on stage in less than ten minutes, your emotions and tears would just have to wait.

Pulling your hair up you took one last deep breath before heading out the door with the rest of your group.

You were on the far left of the stage today and somehow, it made things a bit easier and you didn’t feel as pressured to perform. Stripping- was still a scary thing to do but as soon as you shed your clothes you hadn’t even noticed the dollar bills flying your way, it looked roughly the same as your last dance worth, but hey, twenty could get you not only coffee but a lunch to go with it. You weren’t about to complain.

You could tell your performance wasn’t as sharp today though, the back of your mind was still clouded with Jungkook, who was somewhere out in the crowd sitting with a group of women no doubt keeping them entertained. Scanning through the crowd you finally spotted the two figures you had been hoping would keep their word. The two men from yesterday, the one who had been relentlessly flirting with you had his eyes locked on your figure while his friend- Alex was it? Had been sunk in his seat while glancing towards the floor, his friend occasionally knocking his shoulder as if trying to get him out of his head.

You could tell when someone wasn’t interested in strippers and he definitely was one of them. Stepping off the stage you could feel a plenty of gazes on your near naked figure, you were determined to make an extra tip tonight and at least his friend was up for a lapdance. Hopefully this would go well. You sauntered over to their table instantly perking the flirts attention, you gave them a teasing smile as you waved, tracing the edge of his chair as you circled it, “Thanks for coming, I always love the audience.”

“I’m flattered but my friend could really use a pick-me-up.” He winked at you before jerking his head to his friend, who shifted in his seat, his cheeks a little flushed under the lights and you could instantly tell he wasn’t comfortable with the idea.

Smile you stepped in front of him again as you replied, “I don’t dance for anyone who isn’t comfortable with it.” You explained gently as you began to circle your hips, dropping slowly down into a slut drop to get at eye level with the flirt, “At least let me treat you.” You allowed your hands to stroke up his thighs, his gaze cast over to his friend briefly before laughing.

“Alright you’ve won me over.” Smiling you stood up before placing yourself down into his lap, it was ironic how okay you felt, or maybe it was the mutual consent? You weren’t sure, you hadn’t practiced on lapdancing a whole lot, but there wasn’t a lot too it, right? You assumed you must’ve been doing something right by the way his hands were clenching at his sides, trying to keep from touching you as your hips got to work.

Your cheeks were beginning to get a little hot, especially when you felt the stiff boner in his pants but you didn’t relent. The only thing, that caused you to falter for a split second was when your eyes found your mentor.

He sat a few tables away and even though he was in direct view of you- he had to have seen you. He still refused to look at you, instead he chose to direct his attention on the four women he had been seated with, even going as far as grabbing the hand of the girl he sat by, nipping at her palm before kissing it with a playful wink.

You weren’t hurt at all! You didn’t care! Who said you cared because you definitely didn’t!

You swallow thickly instantly looking away and ignoring the drop in your stomach and the pang that waved through your chest, this was fine! You weren’t together and he had every right to do whatever he wanted with any girl! It wouldn’t be fair of you to act like you were together when you were in fact, separated from your own boyfriend and he was single.

You had just thought maybe…

Pressing your forearms against the man's shoulders you finished your lap dance before the music had come to an end. You felt the band of your panties lifted and the bill set between your skin and the material as you quickly got up, forcing a smile and pushing the gloss in your eyes back, “Thanks for coming gents!”

“Wait,” The flirt instantly stopped you before giving a quick cough, as if not wanting to become too eager, “At least let us buy you a drink?” He offered, looking a little more timid than before as if hoping you wouldn’t reject him.

Giving a small smile you ran a hand through your hair before nodding, “Of course! This was my last dance of the night, let’s head up to the bar.” The flirt had introduced himself as Minjun and apparently his friend Alex- had been a transfer student from America currently attending the university. Of course you had to compliment his fluid Korean, you had assumed he was a foreigner by his name but still, it was impressive when he told you he knew several languages and picked up Korean in only a few years.

Taehyung was practically rooting for you behind the bar, sending you embarrassing thumbs up everytime they both looked away making you scowl at him while Yoongi fixed your drinks.

“So what brings you both to Cherry Bomb? I know most of the times the reason is pretty obvious but…” You clacked your lips before you offered them a smile, “Reasons seemed a bit different today.”

You didn’t want to pry but you couldn’t help but notice the air between the both of them seemed different today, when they interacted with each other compared to the night before.

It was ironic, but people often poured their problems out to you when you sat down and talked to them, it was odd how easy it was to open up to a stripper only there for a paycheck.

Minjun sighed as he shifted in his seat, you instantly noticed Alex glance back towards his drink before slumping again, “He’s been having some girl problems recently, I figured I’d take him here to try and get his mind off of things but...he’s not much of a club guy if you couldn’t tell.” He laughed a little, somewhat affectionately as if he were his little brother. They were obviously very close.

“Well it takes one to know one,” You replied gently before giving a soft laugh of your own, offering a small smile to Alex as if understanding his pain, “Like I said before, I’m actually not into clubs, especially now considering I work at one.” Your smile turned a little more shy as you traced the rim of your glass, noticing Minjun’s frown at his phone before he sighed, his brows pressed together in mild worry before giving you an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry but I’m going to have to go, my little sister is having her own relationship problems.” You laughed at his wording before nodding, telling him it was more than okay before he paid the tab and made his way to the exit of the club, leaving you and Alex sitting alone.

Giving a sigh your expression turned more soft at the poor guy as you frowned, “I’m sorry about last night, I know what it feels like- trust me. Anyways, that was my last dance of the night so I’m gonna head off.” You got up from your seat intending to make your way to the staff area before Alex suddenly perked up.

“W-wait!” He fumbled out almost a little desperate, as if your previous words stirred something inside him, turning around you raised your brows at his abrupt call, his cheeks flushed again as if realizing it himself but he continued to fumble, “C-can I buy you for the night?” Your lips parted at his words before he realized just what that sounded like, “Not..not like that I mean…” He ran a hand through his hair before muttering something in english, “Uh- I just need an outside opinion on the situation and I know strippers are never free and being a therapist really isn’t your job but…” He trailed off at the sound of your laugh.

Smiling brightly you couldn’t help but let your expression soften again as you nodded, “Of course, tell you what. There’s an amazing takeout japanese place close to here that runs 24/7, let me go get changed and we can get something to eat there and talk, sound good?” He nodded rapidly, giving a relieved smile as he relaxed a little, letting you go to get changed as he waited by the bar.

Pulling on the sports bra and loose tank top you hadn’t packed anything except sweatpants and given it was almost three in the morning you were sure Alex wouldn’t mind the informality, that and he had seen you almost completely naked, that probably helped in its own way. You grabbed your bag before making your way back out to the bar where Alex stood, money in hand as he gave it to you.

“Alright, let’s go.” You grabbed his forearm with an encouraging smile as you led him out of Cherry Bomb, the air was nice and cool against your skin, making you realize the club had been stifled and hot even against your open skin that had been on display most of the night.

The walk was short and you had gotten used to nightlife in Seoul after going for fast food after work so many nights, you were often starving and strippers weren’t allowed to eat on the job, mixing that with a couple of drinks, an empty stomach was never a good way to go to bed.

Sitting down in the booth you opened up your takeout box, pulling your hair up into a messy bun as you gave him a smile, “So, is this about the birthday girl?”

Alex blinked a few times before quickly letting his gaze drop to his own food, playing with his chopsticks before he murmured, “You mean Jiwoo?” He pressed his tongue into his cheek before sighing, running a hand through his hair before he admitted, “I’ve liked her for over two years…? It started out as just a crush and I didn’t really think much of it but...things have gotten weird between us I guess.” He picked at his food, his face dejected at the memory which made your heart ache for him, the poor guy looked completely crushed, and after last night's display it was no wonder.

Curling your knees into your chest you leaned against the window as you hummed, “What do you mean? How did things go from fine to weird?” You know you didn’t know him personally, but you’d never turn away someone who needed your help, or at least your opinion on a situation, especially one that seemed so heartbreaking for him.

“Things were fine until four months ago, I mean we had gotten really close and…” He groaned, facepalming as he muttered, “We ended up going to a party and drinking a lot- I don’t remember but I’m pretty sure I confessed- she’s been acting weird ever since. But to go and sleep with a stripper? It’s so unlike her er-” It seemed as if he was going to say your name- only to realize he had yet to learn it, “...I mean do I even stand a chance with a guy like that?”

You frowned at his words. The answer was- he probably didn’t. Jungkook was the most charismatic person you had ever met, he knew all the right things to say and his confidence could win you a thousand times over, and of course his good looks and incredible build only furthered his chances with any girl on the planet, “Well,” You paused, glancing down at the table yourself, trying to push the image Jungkook had sent of himself and the girl- Jiwoo in chat away from your mind, “My mentor is a lot of things Alex- but committed probably isn’t one of them,” He seemed to notice the own dejection you held as you sighed, “I doubt you have to worry about him stealing her away, he’s extremely adamant about actually getting close to any of our clients.”

“Wait…” Alex faltered in his sentence as he pressed his lips together, “Are you and him…?” He trailed off his words, as if not wanting to really ask, but wanting to make sure this situation hadn’t involved more members then he realized.

Your lips parted and your pupils widened as you fumbled, “Oh no! It’s nothing like that-” You gave a tense laugh as you rubbed your neck, “Jungkook and I…” You squinted your eyes as you glanced at the table, what were you? Friends? Just trainee and mentor? “It’s….it’s complicated,” You sighed as your expression dropped, “He’s my mentor for stripping.” You explained before picking at your own food, “But...I don’t know our relationship is weird, we’re friends but- it’s a weird situation.” You shrugged, not wanting to think about it any longer before you hummed, “Have you told her you like while sober?”

“Hell no!” Alex replied a little too fast, just the idea made him look nervous and he was probably working a knot in his stomach at just the idea of confessing, he could still remember being nervous when he was drunk, god only knew what it’d be like if he did it sober.

You clacked your tongue before shaking your head, “I know it’s scary, but you should just be honest with her and tell her.” It wasn’t an appealing idea, you understood, but at the end of the day if she wasn’t interested in it would be better for him to know and move on. You hadn’t known him for more than a few hours but Alex seemed like a sweet guy he deserved someone who could love him for who he was and only him.

“And if she doesn’t like me back…?” He murmured, finally beginning to slurp on his noodles as if already digging into comfort food of a post breakup that never even began. It made you wanna laugh because the feeling was oddly mutual but you refrained due to his eyes that seemed distant and broken under such an idea of her not liking him.

You offered a sympathetic smile before replying, “Then you’re better off with the truth and walking away knowing that there is no hidden feelings and there was no other outcome possible. I know the idea hurts, but you can’t stay stuck on someone who doesn’t love you, and the only way to find out is if you just ask her. Who knows maybe she does like you.” Your smile brightened as you passed him a wink, beginning to dig into your own meal.

Alex sighed before nodding, “You’re right...thank you for listening to me by the way- never thought i’d pay a stripper for advice.” He gave a small laugh, and for the first time all night you let out a genuine one of your own.

It was ironic but people often seeked advice in the oddest places. You ended up having a pleasant conversation with him before finishing up your meal, Alex- had insisted on walking you home, saying he wouldn’t feel comfortable or okay letting you go home so late on your own.

It wasn’t until you abruptly paused outside of the restaurant when you checked your phone, that you swallowed thickly, your notifications had been blown up by several missed calls and a wall of text from Jungkook- who had apparently saw the money exchange with Alex at Cherry Bomb and had gotten a completely wrong impression on what had happened.

“Everything okay…?” Alex asked a little hesitant at the sight of your white knuckles gripping your phone and your blurry vision. Angrily you rubbed your eyes, mad at yourself now for wanting to cry. But it just made you so mad!

How could he expect you to comply when he had been such a dick the past two days. Obivously he was concerned for your safety, but he had went about it in the completely wrong way, leaving you feeling more dumb and angry then cared about or safe.

You understood the risk you were taking when you agreed to go with Alex but this guy didn’t have a malicious bone in his body, he was completely in love and it showed.

“I’m fine, he just…” You forced the sob down your throat as you shook your head, walking side by side with him as you sighed, “He just makes me so angry.” He gave you a look of sympathy as you both made your way back to your apartment.

Pushing his hands into the pockets of his jacket he looked like he was in contemplation for a moment before asking, “Why is it complicated with your mentor?” You frowned at the question, you had answered plenty about your mentor at Cherry Bomb, but never any pertaining to the actual nature of your relationship.

And so you did the only thing you could, you told him everything. The whole walk back you did your best to explain how you ended up auditioning, how Jungkook had persuaded you to take the job. How he rarely ever referred to you by your name and how well you both got along, and then you told him about your boyfriend and how you finally decided this was the end. You were going to talk to him and break it off but now Jungkook was giving you the cold shoulder and you were at a loss of what to do.

“I’m sorry…” You sighed, glancing at your feet as you stopped in front of your apartment complex, “You paid for me to listen to you- not the other way around.” You rubbed the back of your neck and you could feel your face heating up as you frowned before looking up at him.

Alex found himself laughing, looking down at you with a smile as he shook his head, “I paid for your opinion on what I should do, and in the end it was the same as Minjun’s. I just needed to hear it from someone else, the least I can do is listen to you as well. Besides, it seemed like you needed to blow off some steam, you and your mentor seem like you have a pretty intense relationship.”

Sighing you gave a weak smile, “Yeah that’s one way to put...anyways thank you for walking me home. Tell me how it goes with Jiwoo when you get the courage to confess.” He laughed before nodding and saying goodbye.

Just like most days you were drained and ready to sleep off the day, you had hoped today would be the day you’d talk to Jungkook again, but all it ended with was even more strain between you both. Dejectedly you pulled out the key from your bag as you stood in front of your door before going to unlock it.

You paused at noticing it already half shut, you always locked the door before leaving...Warily you glanced around your surroundings before pushing the door open. Everything seemed in its normal place and undisturbed, the few lights you left on were still bright and it wasn’t until you saw the figure sitting at your table, a cold cup of coffee next to him that you scoffed with raised brows, “Hanjae? What the hell are you doing here?”

It made sense of course, but you couldn’t keep the surprised look off your face. When you said you’d talk later this was not what you meant. Hanjae took a sip of his drink before he rose his brows, “Here to talk. Where the hell have you been? It’s almost four in the morning!”

Closing your eyes you groaned, you were tired, both physically and emotionally and you really didn’t want to do this right now. You had been planning a whole speech to let him down as gently as possible, but due to his force of hand you were just going to have to be blunt, “Does it matter? Look, I’m gonna be forward with you, Hanjae. We’re done, I’ve done a lot of thinking the past week and I don’t love you. You don’t love me, it doesn’t make sense for us to stay together.” You wished your tone was gentle, you wished you could give him a soft expression. You wished for a lot of fucking things today but none of that was going to happen and you weren’t about to start here.

Hanjae almost instantly shot up from his chair, “I do love you! Why is that so fucking difficult for you to understand? I’m not just going to sit here and let you ruin our relationship because you’ve let even more bad influences in your life. Who the hell was that by the way?” He almost sneered out, his expression flaring and you had already pulled out your phone.

You had never seen him so tense before and so much strong anger in his voice, it admittedly scared you, “He’s a coworker I hang out with- Would you stop saying everyone I hang out with a bad influence?” You turned away from him with gritted teeth, hurriedly texting the only person you could think of to come get you, Rosé. You knew if Jungkook got involved things would escalate, Hanjae knew where Seulgi lived and of course Namjoon and Seokjin were still at work.

“I’m sorry you still have feelings- but I don’t okay?” You turned to face him, already hearing the notification from Rosé and hoping she was on her way, “I don’t know if I ever did honestly. Can you please just go? I’m tired and I need to sleep. I wish I could give you another answer but I’m breaking up with you Hanjae, I can’t keep living like this.” You stepped away, originally going to open the door and see him out but you were automatically yanked back by his harsh grip on you.

Hanjae instantly had you pinned to the wall, his grip bruising your upper arms as he snarled, “You think you have a choice in breaking up with me? Sorry baby but I lead this relationship and it isn’t over until I say so.” The nickname you had become so used to Jungkook using sounded like venom on his lips as you instantly shifted wincing in pain, “Now let’s go to bed so you can sleep off this ridiculous bullshit.”

“You’re fucking pyschotic!” You snapped out as he began to shuffle you both away from the wall as you tried to pull from his grip, “Hanjae stop!” His grip on you only got tighter as you winced again, hearing another notification go off on your phone, “Our relationship is over whether you like it or not you aren’t going to change my mind!”

You were pushed back against the wall again, this time pain throbbing your back as Hanjae snapped down at you, furious at your words despite their truth, “Oh and who’s gonna stop me huh? Not your little shitty friend, nobody wants you angel hate to be that wake up call but the only person on this planet willing to give you the time of day is me. You think he’ll ever care about you the way I do? He won’t.” You weren’t sure if the tears watering in your eyes was from the pain shooting in your arms from his grip or because of his words. Hanjae’s grip on you was suddenly broke at the shocking sight of blonde hair.

Your vision was blurred from your tears but the very clear image of Jimin was seared into your mind with one of the most scary glares you had ever seen, Rosé was suddenly by your side, arm wrapped around you with her own frightened expression as Jimin demanded you both go. Rosé was quick to guide you out of your apartment, hurriedly getting you down both sets of stairs and into the car that had been parked as she sat in the back seat with you, “Fucking christ,” She murmured out, “I was scared shitless when I got your text! A-are you okay? Did he hurt you?” You hadn’t even realized how badly you were shaking until she wrapped both of her arms around you, hugging you tightly.

“I-I’m fine...just…” You couldn’t form any words, mainly in shock at just how psychotic your ex boyfriend had truly become, had he always been like this? Your mind was racing ninety to nothing in trail of figuring out if that was the case. You had always been too intimidated to speak up before hand, generally not liking conflict with your boyfriend. Had you realized it would’ve blown up the way it did, you might’ve never left him out of fear, or alternatively this could’ve been avoided and you would’ve left before he had gotten so attached.

“Hey it’s okay,” Rosé cooed out noticing the tears blurring your vision again as she dug her nose into your hair, “We can talk about it later, you’re safe now.” You finally let a stifled sob escape your throat as you closed your eyes, leaning against her as she stroked your hair, the comfort her warm body brought to you and the distinct smell of perfume calming your senses.

You jumped at the sound of the car door opening, freaked out for a moment at the idea of Hanjae marching down here to get you and force you back into your own home- which he wrongfully invaded due to having knowledge of where you stored your spare key. Instead you were greeted by Jimin who looked extremely ruffled but turned the car on nonetheless before driving back to you assumed Rosé’s home.

The whole ride had been swallowed in silence until you were sat down on the couch of Rosé’s apartment, hers a fair bit nicer than your own and she even had a custom pole placed between the kitchen and living room. She had wrapped a blanket around you and that’s when you noticed all of the pillows and blankets thrown everywhere and a sheet laid out on the ground, “We were having a movie night when you texted,” She explained with a small laugh though you could tell it was sheepish as if trying to lighten the mood, “I’m glad Jimin was here.” Her voice sombered as she sighed.

Jimin leaned back into the couch as he collectively sighed with her and you did as well, all of you looking both drained and exhausted as he asked the million dollar question, “I’m glad I was too...But Y/n, why didn’t you call Jungkook…?” You avoided his gaze that softened as your lips quivered, “You know he would’ve been over in a heartbeat, no matter how petty he is he’d never ignore anyone in that situation, especially you.”

“It’s already been a long night,” You tried to keep your voice level as your eyes began glossing over again, “If he got involved things only would’ve got worse. I’m sorry for bothering you guys…” It was their one day off and you had ruined it, leaving an empty pain in your stomach as your tried to keep your hiccup down your throat.

“Oh honey,” Rosé frowned as she grabbed your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze as her own lips quivered, as if your words deeply upset her even though she refused to let it show on her face, “Never apologize for that, if you hadn’t of texted when you did there’s no telling what would’ve happened. Do you want me to call him…? I’m sure he’d come over immediately.”

You stiffened at the idea, had things not gone the way they did today you would’ve called him yourself, but now? You honestly didn’t want to see him, he hurt you more than you were willing to admit and all you wanted was a few decent hours of sleep.

Both Jimin and Rosé frowned as they exchanged glances, maybe hoping your mentor could give you comfort that you clearly needed, but you weren't sure if you could trust him, not when he had been so hot and cold, and he was so demanding yet callous of your own emotions as if they didn’t exist, it hurt, it hurt just to think about the conversation you had shared with him earlier.

His concern completely overshadowed by his condescension making you feel like you were nothing but a toddler with a lack of good judgement. Having to narrow it down- you supposed what the core of your hurt came from was the fact that his own lack of trust in you was very apparent.

“I just wanna lay down and get some rest…” You wiped your eyes, not realizing the tears that had trickled down your cheeks as Rosé sighed sadly before nodding, pity in her eyes as she stood up, gesturing her arms as you got off the couch, letting her wrap an arm around you before leading you to what you assumed was her room, “You can rest here for the night baby, do you need anything? I have some spare pajamas in my dresser, feel free to raid it for something comfy.”

“I’m okay…” You sniffled out, wiping your eyes before giving her a small smile despite your eyes persisting in their watering, “Thank you…” Rosé gave you a much brighter smile of her own as she nodded, tugging at a strand of your hair before bidding you goodnight.

Being left alone in her room, you took a moment to inhale looking around before ultimately deciding you were comfy enough as it was. All you wanted was nothing more then to crash and sleep away such an awful day, and that was exactly what you did.

Your body was stiff, tired from being on your feet almost the whole day and your back was aching dully as pain throbbed into your arms at the slightest movement. The pain had waved over you the whole night but it was the delicious smell of pancakes that had you woke up from your deep slumber.

The window had been cracked letting in the nice cool breeze from the morning air and the sun shined through the window delicately, not too bright, but not too grey either. For a brief moment, you had forgotten where you were until memories of the previous night washed over you. Rubbing your eyes you sat up with a wince before groaning, rubbing your back as your face twisted into pain while glancing at your upper arms that sported dark purple bruises in the familiar shape of Hanjae’s hands.

Last night had been very real and the marks that stained your arms was only proof of its existence. It wasn’t until you grabbed your phone from the messy bed, realizing it must’ve fell from your pocket while alseep that you checked the time, eyes almost popping out of your head at the time. You slept in until fucking 9AM? Practice would be over in a half an hour! You could rush to make it but by the time you would’ve got there it would be useless, groaning you flopped down onto the bed as you pressed your hands into your eyes, fuck! Why didn’t they wake you up?

Pushing yourself off the bed you ran a hand through your hair before making your way to the living room, you stopped short at the kitchen though when you saw Jimin flipping the last of his batch of pancakes onto the plate, “Morning, did you sleep well?”

“Why didn’t you guys wake me up!?” You instantly cried out in demand as you trudged over, unable to deny the plate he handed you as your stomach growled, and the smell of pancakes and bacon- though was more of an american style breakfast you’d never deny a sweet treat first thing in the morning.

Jimin flicked your forehead causing you to rub the spot with a whine as he replied, “Babe you just got out of a fight with your ex asshole that was borderline domestic abuse, you deserved a morning to sleep in. Now sit down and eat you can tell me what happened meanwhile.”

You sighed before sitting next to him on the bar countertop, cutting your pancake before shoving as much as your chopsticks would allow into your mouth.

You started at the beginning of the night, explaining to Jimin in detail the reason you had been so adamant about calling Jungkook- even giving him your phone to read through the conversation himself, “Who did you go out with though? If you don’t mind me asking, usually we only take extra cash if a client is looking to buy us for night.” Jimin asked curiously, handing your near dead phone to you as you closed it.

“There was a guy there who needed a second opinion on what to do with a girl he really liked. I’m not stupid Jimin I-...I knew-” You sighed in frustarted, trying to convince yourself more then him as he sighed, gently grasping your shoulder as he gave it a comforting squeeze.

“You’re a grown woman Y/n, I know you aren’t stupid and I would never doubt your judgement with a client. Jungkook is…” He trailed off, thinking for a second before he clacked his lips, “He cares about you, a lot. He cares about all of us to the point he gets overprotective in the process, but it doesn’t change the fact that he cares. He just doesn’t know how to show it, and eventually he pulls away when he feels exposed vulnerability and ends up pushing everyone away to protect himself. Or at least that’s my theory,”

Jimin wrapped an arm around you, delicately to avoid press against the bruising of your arm, “I know it’s frustrating, and isn’t fair for you but Jungkook does care, and if you give him a chance, even if he’s an insufferable ass who doesn’t deserve it-” He cracked a smile making you stifle a giggle, “He will open up, and when that happens…Jungkook is- he’s a good guy, he’s loyal to the ones he loves for life. He’ll defend us in a heartbeat and would never turn any of us away when we’re in need. But he’s still human Y/n. He has a lot of toxic traits and faults he has to work on, we all do if you wanna put it into perspective.”

“You are right…” You sighed, glancing down at your lap as you sighed, taking in Jimin’s words. He was right of course, Jungkook...for all the bad that had happened so quickly, you had plenty of good memories of him as well. He really was someone you’d like to go too in a time of need, and you were sure Jimin was right, he’d throw hands with any soul that dared cross his friends. But you couldn’t help but feel a little apprehensive still, “I just...I need to see that from him, himself. You know?”

Jimin gave your shoulders one last squeeze before he let go nodding, cracking another smile as he laughed, “Oh you’ll see, if you stick with that dense asshole he’ll prove himself, he always does.” You couldn’t help but smile a little at his words, Jimin seemed closed to Jungkook, at least enough to be one hundred percent confident in him. You could only hope, maybe one day you’d be able to say the same. But right now, your feelings were wilted and crumbled and the hurt that had been stabbed at you from so many directions had took a heavy toll on you both emotionally and physically.

All you wanted now was to at least make things right with Jungkook, and then you’d at least be back on the right path to building a proper relationship with him again. You ended up finishing breakfast before taking you home, explaining Rosé decided to head into practice and smooth things over with Jungkook as best she could while explaining to him what had taken place the night before with Hanjae.

You were surprised mainly because he had yet to text you all day, she must’ve did a good job. Jimin had made sure to come inside with you for a few minutes to make sure the apartment was vacant and thankfully it was. You had sent him off with a thank you and goodbye before allowing yourself to relax, you rarely ever skipped classes but today, you’d make an exception.

It had been a few days more of a half a month you had been working at Cherry Bomb and not in one single of those days, did you feel replenished and renewed as tonight as you packed up for work. You had laid around the majority of the day, did some cleaning and tended to your little succulents. It was such a nice change of pace and you had been a happy camper all around before heading off to work.

All of the negative energy you had been so bogged down and for once, you were glad you decided to stay in. Your physical health had took such a beating for so long you hadn’t even realized how taxing and exhausting your everyday schedule was.

Pushing the doors open to Cherry Bomb you had been determined to perform your best tonight and hopefully make a little more money than the night before. You had only danced yesterday and tonight would be your last chance for the week as upper management, like you had been told, mainly kept you working on the floor.

Taking a seat at the wide vanity you ignored everyones comments and occasional stares as you begun your makeup making sure the crease had been cut sharp and hopefully this pair of fake lashes wouldn’t end in ruins like your pair last night had. Spraying the setting spray on you stood up before getting changed into the black minidress, the lace bodysuit you wore underneath was where it counted due to its deep plunge and even with the dress on you could feel the pressure of cleavage sticking against the tight material.

Sitting back down once more you had pulled on the fishnet stockings, making sure to fasten them as well as you could to your garter belt before putting on your heels and making your way backstage. Tonight was all about your celebration this far into your new, hopefully short lived, career.

Leaning back against the pole you had waited for the first few counts before turning to face the audience, letting the music take over with more ease then the first few times you had been on stage. Letting your hands drag up your body as you sunk down to your knees, something about performing had changed or maybe it was the day of being able to relax that had helped?

You weren’t sure what had changed but you enjoyed it and clearly the crowd did as well when you felt the money pile around you. You were positive the feeling would never get old.

After the song had ended you quickly gathered the money before blowing a kiss to the crowd with a smile before heading backstage, pulling the robe over your body you sat down in your chair as you neatly stacked the ones and began to excitedly count them.

“I wish the others weren’t such hardasses, I mean it’s hard to not feel at least a little bit bad for her,” You paused at the sound of a fillers voice, there were only two other girls in the room- poledancers if you remembered correctly, “She’s just a trainee- and to be put in that position.” The girl sighed sinking into her seat.

“What?” You couldn’t help but ask as you raised your brows, curiosity filling you, you were aware you weren’t the only trainee at Cherry Bomb, what had happened? You found, the pole dancers were a little nicer than the dancers, they wouldn’t blow you off, right?

The girl frowned as she answered, “Oh we just had a code black happen- one of the girls got sexually harassed. Sounded pretty bad,” She explained while cringing slightly, pity in her eyes before humming, “What was her name….?” She glanced towards her friend.

The other shrugged before putting on her heels, “Um...Seulgi I think?”

You instantly shot up out of your chair, your heart dropping into your stomach at the sound of your friend's name. It couldn’t have been Seulgi, right!? Right? Your heart rate had spiked and your hands were shaky as you bolted for the door, the need to find your bestfriend flooding your whole body as you pushed through the hallway.

You had almost crashed into Namjoon as you both locked eyes, almost as if he knew your exact thoughts he instantly grabbed your forearm leading you through the busy hallway, “She’s in Hoseok’s dressing room, nothing actually happened but the guy came pretty close. Seokjin’s with her right now while security and Hoseok are taking care of the guy.” He stopped in front of the plagued door with Hoseok’s name on it before opening it.

Your heart dropped into your stomach at the sight of your friend, tears streaming down her face and her whole body violently shaking while covering in a flimsy robe. Seokjin sat by her, making sure to keep his distance while murmuring soft words of comfort to her when you quickly entered into the room.

As soon as you sat down Seulgi lunged for you, wrapping her arms around you as she sobbed, “I-I was so scared!” You buried your nose into her hair, eyes watering at the messy state your friend had been left in as you stroked her back, “It’s okay, you’re safe now, you’re safe Seulgi.” But she only kept incoherently babbling as she sobbed against you, her breathing heavy and uneven as you squeezed her tightly.

You were absolutely horrified and felt completely helpless, unable to do anything to reverse the damage that had been done. You understood that risks of your job, but too actually see it. Too actually endure your bestfriends sobs because someone tried to force themselves on her? It broke you to your very core leaving nothing but an angry void left.

Your job didn’t give anyone the right to do that! Stripper or not you were still human, you still deserved to be treated as such and yet here your bestfriend was with that very right almost ripped away from her.

Hearing the door open you noticed it was Hoseok, his knuckles were bruised and swollen but his eyes locked onto his trainee as hurried into the room, sitting down on the couch as Seulgi instantly launched herself into him, the shaking of her body ceasing as she buried into his neck as he softly comforted her. The sight broke your heart.

You noticed the other soloist’s filing in all with broken expressions as Rosé’s lips quivered, “Is she okay…?” You wordlessly nodded, your eyes staying on Seulgi’s curled up position, unable to fully process the sight before your eyes. Seulgi had always been the stronger one out of you two, she was always the one hugging you when you cried. To see her so weak, so vulnerable the pain ached in your chest for your friend, feeling a little better to see her mentor already helping her recover even in the smallest way.

Seokjin stood up as he sighed, finally speaking up over the heavy, thick tension of the room, “I’ll handle things with Sejin and Bang, everyone should get back to work, are you clocking out Hoseok?” He glanced towards the male as he asked, a soft note in his voice as he backed towards the door.

Hoseok nodded, his eyes only flickering to everyone else for a brief moment as he answered, “Yeah, I’m gonna stay with her. I can handle things from here.” The air was still somber and only Seulgi’s cries filled the room as everyone slowly dispersed. You didn’t want to leave Seulgi alone but you knew it was for the best, she was in good hands with her mentor and you knew if it was you…

You let your eyes trail to the only figure that lingered: Jungkook stood as if waiting for you, his eyes meeting yours for the first time in what felt like forever, his expression was unreadable but heavy making you break his gaze as you sighed.

You weren’t sure what you would’ve done, or who you would’ve went too if it happened to you, if anyone at all. Standing up you wrapped your arms around yourself, checking the clock only too see your next groups dance had just finished on stage. At least you’d be able to go home and sleep off the day, it seemed those were filling your week more and more.

Closing the door you could barely let go of the knob before you were suddenly hauled into a tight embrace causing you to jolt at the unexpected skinship, “Fuck- you scared me to death...” Jungkook’s voice was muffled as he buried his nose into the crook of your neck, his chest pressing firmly into your back and his arms kept you locked into place, “I’m sorry,” those were the next words to tumble out of his lips as he squeezed you a little tighter, “God- I’m- I’m so sorry Y/n. I didn’t have any right to treat you the way I did and- and I don’t- fuck I’m sorry.”

Your lips were already quivering and you were well aware of the wet, warm tears rolling down your cheeks, you hadn’t realized how much you missed him until he was right behind you, apologies escaping his lips left and right, “Shhh don’t cry babygirl, I know I was a total asshole and I don’t have a good explanation and I have no right to ask but please forgive me.” His words only spurred your tears more as you let your shoulders bounce from the gentle sob that escaped your lips making him hug you tighter.

“It- It fucking hurt- you know that? You have some- some...nerve to just swoop in and try to fix everything with a hug,” You finally spoke trying to keep your voice from cracking as you attempted to keep your voice level with the tears streaming down your cheeks, “And- and fuck you! Because it’s working and I- I hate it! You’re such a dick!” You snapped with a sob while babbling, his grip on you loosened and you could even hear a faint laugh escape his lips as you stomped your foot, “I’m- I’m being serious!” You really weren’t but your petty anger was getting the better of you despite your sniffle.

“I know you are babygirl,” Jungkook murmured, his voice a little amused and for the first time, you were relieved to hear his nickname for you escape his lips, as it turns out you prefered it on his lips more then your own name, “I am a dick,” His voice sombered as he sighed, “You’re too good for me babygirl...I know I don’t deserve it but I still want you as my trainee: mine. You don’t have to stay...but-”

“I’m not leaving Cherry Bomb you dipshit!” You cried out indignantly before finally turning around and throwing your arms around his neck, pulling him now as you buried your face into his neck, “Yes you pissed me off- made me cry more than humanly possible but I’m also aware of how much of a sensitive piece of shit I am,” You sighed before tightening your grip around him, not realizing just how much you had genuinely missed Jungkook, you missed his banter and his dumb smirks and innunedos that had you snapping at him with blushing cheeks, you missed the way he called you babygirl or insisted on another silly petname instead of just using your real name, you missed him, “I’m not leaving Jungkook.”

You felt his previously tense body suddenly relax at your words as his grip on you tightened, despite the short time you knew him, you also saw him everyday, almost all day long. Jungkook had become a big part of your life, you didn’t want to lose him when he always brightened your day.

“Thank you.” He murmured gently, pressing his forehead into your shoulder before pressing a gentle kiss against the skin, eyes closed as he murmured, “Stay the night with me baby, I...ah fuck- I can’t…” he exhaled sharply as if annoyed with himself at being unable to form a proper sentence, “So much shit has happened and a lot of it’s my fault. I was freaking the fuck out when I saw you leave with that guy- I can’t...I could never- and then Hanjae? That guy…” His jaw was clenched and you could hear the brittle anger in his voice, “I swear I could fucking kill him...And then the code black-?”

He stopped short of his sentence, forehead still pressed into your shoulder and his eyes squeezed tightly shut as his arms coiled around you further, “When they said trainee I- I- fuck- I thought it was you. After everything that’s happened? I’m already pissed at myself but if that happened-...I’d never forgive myself, just please, stay with me tonight I don’t want you away from me after everything that’s happened.” His voice was near pleading, and his grip had become tight as if you disappear if he let go, he pressed another kiss into your shoulder as if hoping maybe it would entice you.

But all it did was soften your bruised heart, despite all of the hurt you had been through. There was no other arms you’d rather be in then Jungkook’s.

Digging through your bag you sighed, you hadn’t actually packed anything comfy for after work and stood on the cold tile floor of Jungkook’s bathroom that extended from his room, dejectedly looking down at your bag in disappointment as you tugged on the uncomfortable material of your jeans, the cropped top wouldn’t do either given you had begun wearing thongs outside of work to try and become more accustomed to the feeling.

You almost let out a whine at your luck before you sighed, unlocking the door you poked your head out as you felt your cheeks begin to burn, “Guk…”

“Hm?” He was laid out on the bed, his eyes had been previously closed and for once, you could notice the dark circles under his eyes and he looked exhausted. Opening his eyes he glanced towards you in acknowledgement.

“Do you have a shirt I can borrow…?” You felt embarrassment wash over you at the sound of his soft laugh as he got up from his bed, walking over to his dresser as he pulled out one of his infamous, large white t-shirts before walking up to the door, his eyes drinking up the bare skin of your collarbones as you grabbed the shirt with a timid, ‘thank you’ before closing the door.

Sighing you wanted to slam your head into the wall, you had stayed the night with plenty of guys before-...well only once outside of Hanjae- and even he usually preferred going over to your house. But something felt so intimate about staying with Jungkook, you couldn’t quite place your finger on it.

Pulling your clothes off you sighed before unhooking your uncomfortable bra and pulling the shirt over your head. You almost blushed instantly at the way his shirt drowned your body, the distinct smell of his cologne bringing you a strong sense of security that made you snuggle further into the material, Hanjae rarely ever let you wear his clothes, you always wondered why. It was so nice being in oversized shirts and hoodies.

The edge of the shirt dropped to the mid of your thighs and there was more than plenty of room to spare up top due to the stretch his broad shoulders made on the shirt, it was undeniably him. Just him. Opening the door you shuffled, feeling his eyes already on your figure as he drinked up the sight making you shift bashfully.

Just seeing the tired, sleepy smirk on his face had your ears hot red making his lips crack into a smile as he lifted his arms, “C’mere.” It was embarrassing how it only took one word for you to practically flop on top of him. Dropping your head down onto his chest you felt his arms loosely wrap over you as you yawned, an immediate tiredness washing over your eyes while bathed in his warmth.

“I can’t believe he did that…” You poked your head up in confusion at his words, his hand slipping down to your upperarm before gently thumbing the dark bruise, you instantly winced even under his gentle touch making his gaze darken slightly, “Why didn’t you call me babygirl?” He sounded a little hurt, even looked a little hurt as he frowned, closing his eyes as he dropped his head back against the pillow and returned his arm back around you.

“We both know things would’ve got way out of hand if I did…” You murmured, a bit of guilt stabbing in your stomach at the realization you didn’t trust him like you should’ve, even after your argument over text, he should’ve been your go to…”I’m sorry…”

Jungkook rolled over to his side, letting you both adjust before he grabbed at the back of your thigh, pulling it over his waist to cuddle you closer, “It’s fine babygirl- I know our texts probably didn’t help…” He sighed, pressing his forehead against yours as he closed his eyes, his fingers brushing against the side of your body, “Just...please call me next time- I don’t care what’s going on between us- I...I’m your number one okay? When you’re in trouble.” His arm suddenly squeezed around you, “You go to me. I never want you to feel like I wouldn’t protect you.” He muttered more to himself than you. You could feel whatever pressure had been left in your chest lift at his words, making you close your eyes as you pulled closer to him. For the first time in your life, you really did feel safe.

You felt yourself becoming sleepier by the second at the feeling of his fingers gently stroking your side, swirling random, gentle patterns into the soft material of his shirt you wore before letting them trail down to your hips. Focusing on the light brush of his fingertips as you let your eyes fall shut, they were warm and left a little tingling against the open skin of your thigh.

“Is that a thong?” You had never jumped harder out of a half sleep state as you did in that moment, Jungkook’s tone huskier as his lips brushed over your ear, you couldn’t tell if it was because he was half asleep himself or aroused, maybe both.

You attempted to scurry away from him as you sputtered, “I- I! I was almost asleep you pervert!” Your face was practically boiling alive and the flare in your ears returned as Jungkook quickly pulled you back against him, his lips pressing into your neck as if too try and sooth your embarrassment, “But you weren’t fully asleep,” Jungkook purred out, his tone sleepy as well his hand on the back of your thigh to pull it over his waist, this time hiking it higher forcing the shirt to lift up exposing your previously covered ass to the cold nip of the room.

“Mmm lace looks so good on you babydoll.” Jungkook rasped in your ears making you whine as you wiggled in his arms, his words, had almost shamefully made you wet. His hand instantly slipped up your thigh to cup one cheek before kneading against it making you involuntarily try to grind closer to him, “Jungkook!” You whined out making him chuckle before rolling you both over, caging you between his arms as you shrank as far into the mattress as you could.

You had been in many positions with Jungkook, but never truly underneath him on a bed. Seeing him hover over you, tired without a doubt but arousal glazing his eyes already had you worked up and he hadn’t even done anything, “So…” He licked his lips, a smirk quirking on his mouth as he let one hand stroke your hipbone making you lift them along with his stroke, “Feels like we’ve had this conversation before,”

You almost wanted to wack him on the head as you resisted the urge to roll your eyes at his dumb smile, “But you can just tell me to get off you,” He leaned in, sucking gently against your neck making your breath hitch as you squirmed beneath him, “You needed time to think things over with Hanjae…” you shuddered at the feeling of his warm tongue running over your skin, “Just say the word and we can go to bed.” He teased as he nipped at your skin again, his hands indulging as they ran over the side of your body.

“I broke up with him.” He abruptly stopped before sitting up making you strangle to keep the whine of objection leaving your lips as you lifted yourself onto your forearms, “What…?”

He store at you for a whole five seconds, pupils a little wide as he breathed out while running a hand through his hair, “Thank god…” he looked extremely relieved, a brief smile pulling on his lips as he lunged back down at you before playfully adding, “There can only be one daddy in your life babygirl and you know I was willing to fight him for it.”

“You are unbelievable!” You cried out making him laugh, his smile pressed against your skin as he excitedly pushed his hands under your shirt like a kid in a candy shop making you squirm. His hands were warm and the calloused brushed against your skin in all the right ways, “He wasn’t a daddy anyways.”

“Fuck,” He paused briefly as he pressed his forehead against your chest, “You sound so hot when you say that baby.” His words were sent straight to your already throbbing wet pussy that had you rubbing your thighs together, you assumed he was joking about being your daddy but somehow it really wasn’t surprising to quickly figure out he wasn’t.

The idea had you soaked and you were sure there was an embarrassing wet mark by now as Jungkook sat up, his eyes lidded as he licked his lips, pushing the shirt over your chest making you squeak, the warm confines of the material no longer covering you, leaving your nipples hard against the cold air of the room and your cheeks burning in opposition, “Don’t you dare cover yourself now baby,” Jungkook instantly grabbed your wrists stopping them as you whined shuffling beneath him, “Mmm, you’re so pretty baby,” He cooed out soothingly noticing your nervous shift of body, wrists still pinned by him as he licked a trail up your stomach leaving you arching your back for more as his foreplay nearly killed you.

Jungkook smirked against your skin, as if knowing you were putty in his hands and ready to be played with. The sexual tension had been killer between you both even now after being apart for those short few days, in fact, the absence only made his tongue feel that much better as he dragged it over your left nipple popping it into his mouth.

“Jungkook!” You whined trying to kick your feet beneath him as impatience built inside you, you weren’t used to so much foreplay and honestly it wasn’t even needed, all Jungkook had to say was one word for you to be soaked.

You felt a hard sting against your thigh making you cry out with a whimper at his hand that had just popped against your thigh leaving it with a slight throb of pain, “You know I really can’t stand brats,” Jungkook almost growled, a hand slotting between your thighs making you clamp around it, “You’re gonna be daddy’s good babygirl and wait, right?” His hand cupped your throbbing core as he squeezed it making you whine as you nodded, your back aching at being arched once more while his tongue returned to your other nipple, “Right?” He spanked your thigh once more, a little harder as it burned into your skin making you jump with a breathy moan.

“Yes...daddy.” You swallowed thickly, embarrassment covering your whole body as you looked up at him, his eyes completely engulfed on your figure before letting out a moaned sigh of his own, as if waiting for you to say those words.

Just as he was about to lean back over you a loud knock had echoed throughout the house causing you to jump, anxiety pouring through your whole body as you let out a panicked noise, Jungkook had instantly pulled your shirt back over yourself, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck as he cooed, “Hey shhh, you’re safe babygirl.” Your hands were still shaky with adrenaline at being planted back into reality as another more impatient knock came from the front door, “Let me get the door, I’ll be right back.” He pressed a kiss against your forehead before getting up and exiting the room.

You almost immediately collapsed against the bed, your body feeling like jello as you ran a hand through your hair, holy shit. Maybe that interruption was for the best, you weren’t sure you were ready for Jungkook, mainly too embarrassed at how noisy you had become, how he got you so easily wet. It must’ve been painfully obvious that despite not being a virgin you still weren’t experienced in bed.

One minute, turned into two, and then two turned into three and briefly you started to become worried. Was everything okay? Did he end up leaving with whoever was at the door? And furthermore, who was at the door at this hour? It was almost five in the morning. You felt worry shoot through your body as you fidgeted against the soft bed, he was okay, right?

Just as you let worry take over you relaxed at Jungkook’s returned figure, you quickly frowned at his expression, he looked even more tired then he had when he first brought you home. His face drained of nearly any emotion as he sighed, running a hand through his hair, “Sorry for the interruption,” He climbed back over you but you could tell whatever had happened- whoever was at the door.

He almost looked numb as he leaned down to press back against your neck.

Abruptly you pressed your hands against his shoulders making him pause as you finally asked, concern written in your voice, “Jungkook...are you okay?”

Silence filled the room for a brief moment, and that moment turned into a full minute before you felt him bury into your neck, and after another moment you felt his shoulders shake and the wet substance of tears drip against your skin that made your heart completely splinter. He was completely silent but his shoulders were shaking and you could hear a breathy light sob if you strained as his grip on you tightened.

Instantly you had your arms wrapped around him as you let your hand tangle into his hair, it had been such a long night already and just hearing him cry, feeling his tears drop against your skin made you hold him closer as you whispered, “Everything is gonna be okay Guk.” You pressed a kiss against the top of his head. You didn’t know why he was crying, and it didn’t matter, he had you to wipe his tears away and you weren’t about to let go of him.

Note: :) I quite like the ending of this chapter how do u guys feel though? 🤔 lots too process here

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#bts #bangtan #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader smut #bts au

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