#I sincerely get like second-hand embarrassment whenever I think about the one-shot :/

[ofswordsandpens]

I wish I could be optimistic about the second pjo season, I really do, but every time I see that hopeful sentiment of "maybe the show runners will listen to the complaints about season 1 and fix it going forward!!" it reminds me of another notable time that RR's work received a not insignificant amount of criticism (the Blood of Olympus), and in response he wrote a passive aggressive one-shot wherein the seven literally just sit and verbally justify everything that happened asdlfksdjfsdf

[honeypiehotchner]

kiss me on the mouth and set me free (Damon Salvatore x fem!Reader) -- one shot

Hi my lovelies! I know this is not my usual content whatsoever, but I’ve been watching TVD with my best friend (@treat-winchesterswith-kindness​) and she was begging for a Damon smut, so this is the result. And I have to say...I enjoyed the hell out of writing this one xx.

Beta’d by @treat-winchesterswith-kindness​ and @a-radical-notion <3

Warnings: (Birthday) SMUT! (Slight) virginity kink, Daddy kink, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), biting (of course), size kink

Damon’s fingers touch gently underneath your chin, tilting your head, forcing your eyes to meet his. Not for compliance, he’d never do that to you. But for attention, for focus, for sincerity. He wants you to know his true intentions, the kind that only you can see when you’re looking into his eyes.

The usual mischief isn’t there. Instead, swirling in his eyes, are the softest emotions you’ve ever seen. The most genuine. The warmest.

Slowly, you nod. Your silent, willing compliance. Your silent, please.

As he leans forward to connect your lips--

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.”

Your dream is ripped right out from under you by the smirking vampire standing in your bedroom. “Damon, what the hell?” You sit up in bed, rubbing your forehead. “What the fuck do you want?”

“Yikes, what’s with the attitude? My feelings are fragile, you know.” He grabs a pillow off your floor and hugs it to his chest as he quite literally falls onto the reading chair you have by your window.

Your only response is a glare.

“Come on, do you not know what day it is?”

“No,” you mutter, dropping your hands onto the bed in defeat. “What day is it?”

His expression is surprise, sadness, and unamused all at once. “Your birthday.”

“Oh,” you chuckle. You guess that is today. You’ve been so busy lately. You knew it was coming up, but you weren’t aware it was coming up this quickly. And now it’s here, and you have no plans.

Or at least you thought you didn’t have plans.

“Up, up, up,” Damon orders, waving his hands at you as he stands. “We’re celebrating, you’re not allowed to say no. Up.”

One thing you’ve learned about being friends with Damon Salvatore is that once he’s set in his ways, he isn’t budging. So, despite feeling like lead has been injected into your bones, you let him drag you out of bed -- literally. He reaches both hands out and you accept, wrapping your fingers around his and allowing him to tug you to your feet.

You and Damon have always been close. More than close, actually. You’ve never kissed or anything, at least not on the lips. He kissed your forehead once when you were sobbing over something. You kissed his cheek once in public when a guy wouldn’t stop hitting on you. And the two of you have held hands before, but more as an “I don’t want to lose you” measure in large crowds. You love concerts, and Damon does too (especially rock) but he hates the crowds because he hates losing sight of you.

You wouldn’t be surprised if everyone just assumed you and Damon are dating. You know the two of you aren’t -- because he’s definitely had sex with other women while you’ve been friends with him -- but you also know his behavior might lead others to believe otherwise. You also know that’s kind of his whole intention.

He’s protective. It’s what he does best. When you’re next to him, no one who isn’t your friend will look at you. And when you’re not with him, you’ve noticed the number of people who approach you with ill intentions has considerably decreased.

Once you’re known indirectly (or directly, you guess) as Damon Salvatore’s girl, no one comes near you. Exactly how Damon likes.

You don’t mind it. You hate being bothered. You’re surprised you let Damon bother you for as long as you did before you caved. You can’t lie, you liked it. You liked him. You still do.

But Damon isn’t the settling down type. He’s not the type to be monogamous, at least not from your experience. You do wonder at times what his goal was whenever he’d tell you about his sexual encounters. It wasn’t like he was bragging, but you couldn’t help but feel like he was trying to get a reaction out of you.

So, obviously, you didn’t give him one.

Damon doesn’t always get what he wants. He just thinks he does. And you like to make him believe that.

“Are you ready yet? I’m starving,” Damon calls from the hallway.

You roll your eyes. “No. And you can’t be starving, you’re dead.”

“I know,” he smirks, sauntering into your room. “Look at you.”

“Look at me?” You scoff. “I wore this outfit last week.”

“Yeah, but you look...hotter, I don’t know. Maybe it’s your birthday.”

You roll your eyes again, a habit you do most often when you’re with Damon. “Whatever. Where are you taking me?”

“Oh, just, all your favorite places.”

“You’re full of shit, Damon.”

+++

After a full day of doing all of your favorite things, most of which Damon hates, by the way. You have no idea why he’s been entertaining you all day, but you’re assuming it’s only because today is your birthday. He’ll go back to his usual self tomorrow and hang out with you only when it doesn’t involve things he hates doing.

“Which one of your comfort movies are we watching to end the day?”

You eye Damon skeptically from the kitchen. He’s currently on the couch, flicking through Netflix lazily.

You don’t want to question any of this until tomorrow, so you tell him which movie to queue up, and you hear him muffle a groan.

You return to the living room with a giant bowl of popcorn, plopping it in the middle of you and Damon. He presses play on the movie, and you eat your popcorn with a smile.

Of course, you should’ve known it was too good to be true for Damon to keep his mouth shut all day because about halfway through the movie, he drops the bomb you had been waiting on.

“So...you’ve really never had sex?”

You roll your eyes, but don’t respond.

Earlier today when the two of you were walking around, Damon kept pointing out cute guys. And they were cute, you’ll give him that, but you had no idea what his deal was. After five or six guys are pointed out, Damon asks you, “Come on, you’ve never had birthday sex? A one-night stand on your special day?”

You had laughed and shoved his arm, and confessed, “I’ve never had any sex, period. So no thank you. Can we please go?”

You knew it was way too good to be true when Damon dropped the subject immediately and moved on, letting you drag him away to your other favorite spot.

Of course, you should’ve known he was only waiting for the right time. You did know. Which is why you haven’t answered him right now.

But he keeps going.

“What about held hands? Kissed anyone on the lips?”

“First of all, you’ve held my hand, and second of all, of course I’ve kissed someone on the lips, I’m not a nun!” You lie.

He looks skeptical. “When was it?”

“I was…” He gives you the look harder, not compelling you, but might as well have been. “Fine. I’ve never had sex, and I’ve never had my first kiss. Are you happy now?”

“Of course I’m not happy!” He gives you another look, this one like you’ve gone batshit crazy. “You’re missing out on one of life’s greatest experiences!”

“And this is exactly why I never told you,” you toss a popcorn kernel at him, watching it bounce off his forehead. He looks up at it, but he doesn’t blink. “Not everyone thinks sex is all there is to life, Damon.”

“Okay, that’s not what I meant--”

“That’s exactly what you meant.”

“I just mean if...you’re waiting…”

“Please, stop. Talking.”

“You don’t need to wait.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Because I’m right here.”

You stare at him blankly. “What?”

He shrugs nonchalantly like he’s not the biggest manwhore around. “I’m here.”

“You’re joking. Quit fucking with me.”

“I’m not fucking with you-- Well, at least not yet--”

“Oh my God, shut up!” You laugh, swatting at his arm, hating the way you’ve gone hot all over.

Damon Salvatore is attractive. Scratch that-- He’s more than attractive. He’s the kind of attractive everyone says they want in a guy, but obviously, it’s too much to ask for, so they settle for a little less. You can’t ask everyone to look like a God, but Damon does -- though you’ll never let him hear those words leave your lips. Never.

The prospect of having sex with Damon has crossed your mind more than once. Probably a thousand times, if you’re honest, but you always knew it would never happen. He’s Damon Salvatore. First of all, he doesn’t do anything besides casual sex, and second of all, you’re pretty sure his sex only includes experienced partners. You don’t exactly fit either of those criteria.

You never even thought he looked at you that way. You figured if he had, he would’ve made more jokes or insinuated things. But he never has with you.

“I’m being serious, you know.”

At this point, fifteen more minutes of the movie have gone by. But you haven’t been paying attention.

“Can I ask why?” You say, keeping your eyes focused on the TV screen.

“Why what?”

“Why now? Why are you suddenly interested? Because if it’s just to get your dick wet, I will kick you out.”

“What do you mean suddenly interested?” He counters.

“What do you mean?” You fire back, finally looking at him. “The whole time we’ve been friends, you’ve had more one-night stands than I can count. You never flirt with me. And just today you were trying to find someone for me to have birthday sex with. Are you serious?”

“Okay, yes, I have had a lot of one-night stands, and yes, I was being...obnoxious today, but I have flirted with you.”

“Since when?”

“Since every day I’ve known you!” He cries. “Did you not notice?”

You slump back into the couch cushions. “Well, I guess not.”

More minutes pass. The movie plays and you try to pay attention, silently wishing the couch would swallow you whole right now. This shouldn’t be embarrassing, but it is.

“I’m not saying you have to have sex tonight, but whenever you’re ready...I’m here.”

“Of course you’ll always be there for that.”

“You know I didn’t mean it that way,” he says, and you would’ve brushed him off again if he wasn’t looking into your eyes so deeply, and reaching for your hand. Not in a way that insinuates anything, but for comfort.

Silently, you turn your hand over and let him hold it. “What if...What if I’m not ready for sex yet, but…”

“But?”

“But…” You sigh, averting your eyes back to the movie. “What if I want you to kiss me?”

“I can do that.”

You nod, but you don’t move. Your hand stays gently held in his, your eyes glued to the movie. You suggested it yourself, yet you’re nervous.

Distantly, you hear the bowl of popcorn moving to the coffee table. You feel the cushion beside you dip slightly as Damon scoots over. And then…

“You’re going to have to look at me if you want me to kiss you.”

You feel his fingers gently lifting your chin, turning your gaze toward him.

“Are you sure?”

You roll your eyes, not as harsh this time because you’re too busy buzzing with the fact that his fingers are still on your chin. “Just shut up and kiss me.”

“Okay, okay,” he teases, his thumb stroking your jaw.

He moves slow, not wanting to rush you, but he moves so slow that you wish he’d use his speed. Before you can make a comment about it, though, his lips are finally on yours.

Kissing isn’t what you expected. But since it’s with Damon, it’s amazing.

He still moves as slow as possible, his hand moving from your chin to your jaw, cupping your face, pulling you closer. You have no idea what to do with your hands, so you leave them in your lap, curled into fists.

Damon pulls back, pecking your lips once, then twice, before finally pulling away.

“How’s that for a first kiss?”

You don’t bother responding. Instead, you grip his shirt in both hands and pull him back to you, kissing him harder. A growl releases itself from the back of Damon’s throat, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip in retaliation.

You open up for him instantly, fists releasing his shirt when his tongue strokes into your mouth gently. His hands find your waist and squeeze, massaging your skin, tugging you closer until there’s practically not even a centimeter of space between the two of you. You wrap your arms around his neck, a small whine leaving your lips when he pulls back.

“Damon…” You whisper, your vision hazy, but in the best way.

“Look at me,” he says softly, his lips ghosting over yours.

You blink slowly, looking back into his eyes. “Hm?”

“Do you want more?”

You nod pathetically, still annoyed with him for stopping.

“Words, little one,” he taps your nose with his index finger. “What do you want?”

“More,” you say almost instantly. “I need more, Damon.”

“More it is,” he smirks, giving you what you need.

You inhale deeply when he kisses you, and when you exhale, your breath fills Damon’s lungs. Your fingers thread through his hair at the base of his skull, your arms keeping you steady around his neck. His lips devour you in every form of the word, claiming you, coaxing you to open up to him. His hands tug on your hips, pulling you into his lap, straddling his legs.

Your comfort movie plays on the TV in the background, the volume turned down, but still there. Somehow, it makes more of your nerves melt away. Damon’s touch makes the rest of them disappear.

Damon pushes your hair back from your face as he holds you captive with his kiss. Another nip to your skin and he pulls back.

“I want more,” you blurt, “but I’m not a one night stand.”

“You are most definitely not a one night stand,” he replies softly, pecking your lips. “If you want more, I’ll give you more.”

“Give me more,” you all but demand, rocking your hips. “Now.”

“Ah, ah, ah,” he tightens his grip on your hips, stopping your movement. “Just because it’s your first time doesn’t mean you get to do whatever you want.”

You fully stop your movement out of surprise and annoyance. “Why not?”

“Because…” He thumbs the pout from your lips. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“Damon,” you groan. “Just because I’m a virgin doesn’t mean I haven’t fingered myself.”

He chuckles lowly, grabbing one of your hands and lifting it up into view. “I am a lot bigger than your fingers, princess.”

You shudder at the nickname and fail to hide it.

His usual mischievous smirk stretches across his lips. “You like that?”

You nod. No use in trying to hide it.

“Princess,” he murmurs. “What do you want?”

“Fuck me,” you say proudly, already tired of the teasing.

He smooths his hands down your arms. “That’s not asking nicely.”

“Please, will you please just fuck me already?”

“Nice of you to say please,” Damon replies, pressing a kiss to your lips. “But I need to get you ready first. Don’t pout, kitten. Come on.”

He shifts his weight to lift you up, laying you back on the couch. Slowly, your pants are dragged down your legs. You wait for him to take your panties, too, but he doesn’t.

You lift your head, but Damon stops you before the comment leaves your mouth. “Patience, princess.”

You throw your head back into the pillow with a groan, one that quickly morphs into a moan when he mouths your clit over your panties. His tongue darts out to tease your hole through the fabric, smirking into your pussy as you squirm. He thumbs your clit before massaging your lips.

“There we go,” he murmurs. “I can feel you getting wet, and that’s what we need, Princess, I don’t want to hurt you...not unless you ask.”

A flash of a wet dream you had a few nights ago, where Damon’s mouth was in your neck, his teeth breaking skin only barely, but enough to taste.

“Did you just get wetter? Oh, Princess…”

The sound of ripping fabric fills your ears when Damon’s teeth tear your panties away. The sudden cool air on your wet pussy causes your hips to buck, and Damon’s hands promptly push them back down.

He crawls up your body, briefly paying attention to your collarbones and neck, daring to nip there, but not breaking the skin, and leaving as quick as he came.

His entire body covers yours as he leans down, pressing sweet kisses to your lips, smirking when he finds your lips already parting for him. And when your hands find the buttons on his shirt, he chuckles, but keeps kissing you, fiercer now as you unbutton every last one, leaving his shirt hanging wide open.

“You feeling good?”

“Do you really need to ask?”

“Just checking, baby,” he coos, kissing both of your cheeks, then your nose.

He slides back down your body, settling over your hips. Now, without the barrier of your panties, you can feel his breath on your pussy. Before you have time to process that feeling, though, Damon is diving in headfirst -- literally.

Damon is not a stranger to going down on a woman, and it’s actually his favorite thing in the world to do.

He doesn’t even try holding you down. One arm is stretched across your hips, while his other hand is busy massaging your lips, coating his fingers in your wetness. You expect him to thrust his fingers into you then, but a loud moan has you looking down to see Damon’s fingers in his mouth, tasting you.

He opens his eyes and catches yours, smirking around his fingers as he pulls them out of his mouth. “You taste good.”

You scrunch up your nose, earning a laugh from him.

“I’ll make you taste one day, kitten, you might like it.”

“Hmph.”

“Don’t start pouting now,” he says, keeping his eyes locked with yours as his fingers trail down to your entrance. “Just one for now, Princess,” he whispers, spreading your lips and pressing in.

One isn’t much, so all that you feel is pleasure and heat in your core.

“More,” you whine, lying back down, breathless. “Please.”

“There’s my good girl,” he coos, kissing your hip bone. “Asking so nicely. I’ll make you feel good, don’t worry.”

Another finger enters you and it is a bit of a stretch, but still not much. He was right, his fingers are bigger than yours -- and you’re sure his cock is bigger, too -- but it’s still not enough.

“More,” you cry, the word breaking into a choked moan when he scissors his fingers, opening you up.

“There it is,” he smiles, leaning down to flick your clit with his tongue before sucking gently on the bundle of nerves. He continues scissoring his fingers until he hears your moans growing quieter, and that’s when he adds a third finger.

Now you feel the stretch, but it isn’t painful. Your moan is louder than you expect, your back arching off the couch, and Damon swears for a second he might’ve stumbled upon an angel.

A small whimper leaves your lips when he curls his fingers, pressing into your g-spot ever so slightly. Not hard enough for immense pleasure because he doesn’t want to wear you out immediately, and he knows you aren’t used to that level of pleasure -- not yet at least.

He pauses his assault on your hip bone, never biting hard enough to leave a mark, to return to your clit. He’s not sure if you know it, but you’re close. He can feel your walls fluttering and squeezing his fingers, the tell-tale signs.

Once you feel his mouth back on your clit, sucking and nibbling gently, you’re blinded by the pleasure that crashes into you. It’s as if the skies opened up and struck you with lightning straight from the sun.

When Damon moans into your pussy, the vibrations send waves of pleasure through your every fiber, and you have no choice but to cum all over his fingers.

Something you do when you’re pleasuring yourself is you stop almost immediately, but Damon continues, milking every last bit of your orgasm until you’ve calmed down. He leans his head on your hip while he continues massaging your walls until he can pull his fingers out without hurting you or startling you.

The emptiness you feel when his fingers leave you is a little startling, but only so much so that you need something else inside of you. Which is why while he’s busy sucking on his fingers again, making a complete mess, you’re sitting up and tossing your shirt over your head.

“Woah,” Damon says around his fingers, his eyes widening when your bra comes off, too. “Hello.”

You almost glare at him. “I need you inside of me.”

Damon raises an eyebrow, licking his lips. “Pardon me?”

“Please,” you groan. “Please, I need more, I…”

“Shhh,” he shushes you, his fingers massaging soft circles into your thigh. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Please.”

He nods. “Lay back, Princess. I’ve got you, don’t worry.”

You obey, mostly out of exhaustion than compliance, and Damon knows that. You’ve always been a bit of a brat, but he’s seeing even more of it tonight.

He makes a show of shrugging off his shirt, watching you watching him, your arm bent underneath your head to prop you up. One leg is up and the other is down, and you look like Heaven.

Damon undoes his belt and tosses it away, taking note of the way your eyes follow it all the way to the floor. You don’t even look back to him until his pants are hitting the floor, and him stepping out of them catches your attention again. Black boxer briefs are all that is left, and they’re barely containing him.

He loves how intently you’re watching him. The genuine curiosity sparks in his eyes when he pulls his underwear down, kicking them aside. You blink slowly, marveling at the sight of him. He’s...pretty.

“Like what you’re seeing, baby?”

You nod slowly. “Mhm. Taste?”

“Next time,” he promises, kneeling on the couch, pushing your legs apart. “Tonight is all about you, Princess.” He presses a kiss to your lips to seal the deal, and you accept it, reminded of how empty you feel now that your legs are spread again.

You go quiet when you feel his cock nudging your entrance. He stretched you, but he feels so big.

“Is it...Is it gonna fit?” You ask, your arms wrapping around his neck again for support.

“I’ll go slow,” he murmurs, kissing your forehead, cheeks, nose, and chin. “You tell me when to stop, okay?”

“Okay.”

He kisses you again, sweeter and softer this time, but it’s only a distraction for when he initially enters you. He could tell you needed the distraction, and he was correct.

When you begin to feel him, your nails scratch his skin and he stops, staying there, waiting for your word.

He goes slow as promised every time you ask for more, and stops whenever you say so, or when your whimper is louder than expected.

Soon, though, he’s fully seated inside of you, and you feel sufficiently full. At peace. And ready for him to fucking move.

“Move, please, Damon, I need you to--”

He pulls out slightly and snaps his hips, knocking the breath out of you. He watches your face, but there are no traces of pain, only pleasure.

A rhythm slowly forms, one that you enjoy, until you need more and when you ask for more this time, Damon doesn’t hold back.

So much so that it forces a new name from your lips.

You didn’t mean to say it, but when he stops moving out of surprise, you can’t help but whine it once more. “Daddy, please.”

“God,” Damon groans, dropping his head into the crook of your neck. The rhythm this time is slow and dizzying. “Say it again.”

“Daddy,” you whimper instantly, bucking your hips, pulling him in deeper.

“Just like that,” he murmurs, lips ghosting over your vein. “You have no idea how hard it is not to just…” He pauses, letting his teeth graze over the sensitive skin there. “And when you call me that…”

“Daddy…” You cry out, feeling him nudging against your cervix.

“My sweet little girl,” he breathes. “Letting me take her virginity. That’s my Princess, my baby…” His teeth graze your skin again, teasing you, and then…

“Please,” you mumble, closing your eyes. “Do it.”

He freezes, and you feel it, but you’re tired of him freezing, so you wrap your hand around the back of his head, pressing his mouth into your neck.

“Do it,” you repeat, even more breathless. “Please.”

Damon can’t resist, not when you feel this good wrapped around him, when you’re begging, when you’re pushing him closer, yearning for it.

He speeds up his rhythm, chasing his high. He doesn’t trust himself to cum with his teeth in your neck, but he can cum right before, and sink them in while you’re cumming. The pain won’t be as intense while you’re mid-orgasm.

Almost as soon as you feel Damon’s seed spilling inside of you, your back is arching, your own waves of pleasure shooting through your body, your second orgasm of the night capturing you. And when you least expect it, because you assumed he had decided against you, Damon’s teeth sink into your neck.

It’s a feeling you’ve never felt before, but it’s one you’ll be asking for more often.

Your body relaxes, Damon’s now half-hard cock sitting snugly inside of you while he drinks from you, and when he finally is done, you’re floating blissfully.

You catch only a glimpse of his face before it returns to normal, and he kisses you gently to get your attention.

“How was your first time?”

“Amazing,” you murmur, scratching gently at the base of his skull. “Really...amazing.”

“Do you want me to move?”

“No,” you shake your head. “Stay.”

“Okay, well I need to pull out of you, but then we can cuddle.”

“Fine,” you huff, dropping your arms from his neck.

Slowly, he pulls out of you, leaving you empty once more, despite the pleasure still thrumming through your body. “You can warm my cock another time, okay Princess?”

“Hmph.”

He stands and shakes his head. “Alright, it’s nap time for you.”

You look up hopefully. “Bed?”

“Yeah, come on.” He slides his arms underneath your legs and back, lifting you up bridal style.

You’re asleep in his arms before he even makes it to your room.

[cloudteawrites]

chapter: five ( 4.7k ) rating: mature (death, past abuse, eventual smut) genre: mystery | romance | hurt/comfort tags: bts x reader | ot7 x reader | hybrid | poly summary: when an estranged uncle leaves you his massive fortune you wonder if the universe is playing a joke on you. when that fortune comes with seven hybrids, you know for sure that it is. << first < previous | next > last >>

The grocery store was a mess of color and light. You swore you’d never seen so much food in one place. 

Back when your mom had been alive, you’d never really gone to traditional grocery stores. You’d always just visited markets where your mom knew the vendors and could talk down their prices on ugly produce and day old bread. After she’d died, you’d eaten whatever the staff in the group home had provided, then whatever you could scrounge up from convenience stores. Most of the time since you’d aged out of social services, you survived off the free rice and kimchi available in your goshiwon. 

Occasionally, you’d eat at work with your free staff meal, but you tried to avoid it. You knew the sight of you wolfing down ramyeon and cold kimbap as fast as you could made Jiah worry. If she ever saw you looking too haggard, she’d try to slip some home made meals to the front desk of your goshiwon when you weren’t looking and that was as embarrassing as it was helpful. 

For as long as you could remember, the question of where your next meal was coming from had hung over your head like a dark cloud. It didn’t seem like that was going to be a problem any longer. 

Aisle after aisle stretched out before you, blindingly bright. It looked like an amusement park. You were finding it hard to stop staring. You reached out in a haze and picked up the juiciest apple you’d ever seen. Sure, you sold them all the time at Quickstop, but they’d always been dull and just the slightest bit bruised. This one was perfect: fire engine red and still wet from the mister. It was cold and heavy in your hands. You almost felt like crying.

“You good?” Yoongi is beside you, leaning over on the shopping cart, his chin in his hand. He looks dreadfully bored. 

“Yeah,” you tell him, setting the apple gently back in its place. “Yeah; just got distracted for a second.” You give a single tug on the front of the basket to move him along, and he follows, shuffling against the bright white linoleum. 

“Why aren’t you getting that?” He calls, just before you can round the corner into the dry goods aisle. You turn and look at him over your shoulder, confusion slightly furrowing your brow. “Don’t you want it?”

Your eyes flick from his face back to the glittering heap of fruit. You gnaw at your lip. “...They’re 6,000 won a kilo.”

Yoongi purses his lips. “That’s not what I asked you.” 

“I don’t need them,” you huff, trying to stave off the beginnings of another argument. “There’s more important things...like you three and getting you clothes and better furniture and-” Before you get the chance to finish, the gray haired man has ducked back around the corner. He returns with two three kilo bags of apples and dumps them unceremoniously into the cart. 

He looks up at you, brows raised and his eyes daring you to say something. All you do is sigh. “Yoongi-”

“Jimin likes apples.” He says, before you can get a word in edgewise. “They’re for him.” You can’t argue with that. He pushes the basket forward and you two drift down the next aisle. 

There’s a question resting on the tip of your tongue and as you compare brands of rice, you spit it out. “So...what do you guys eat? I read an article that said to mainly feed cat hybrids fish, but...”

“But we’re not house cats.” He finishes, flipping over a box of cereal to read the back. His nose wrinkles at something he finds and he slides it back onto the shelf. It’s cute, you think- or would be if you couldn’t see the tips of his razor sharp incisors poking out when his lip curled up. Yoongi senses your gaze and looks over at you. You look away quickly and make yourself busy reading a label. “We can eat pretty much anything you’d eat. Not too much processed shit or we’ll get sick. Whole foods are better.”

You nod, making a mental note to forego sodas and chips. “And when you’re shifted?”

He shakes his head. “We don’t really eat when we’re shifted down unless we plan on staying there for a long time.” 

You choose a 10 kilo bag of rice, tug it out from the shelf with a little grunt and plop it onto the basket’s bottom shelf. That was good, you supposed. You were worried you were gonna have to watch three big cats rip into raw meat whenever it caught their fancy.  “Why don’t I push the basket and you can pick out things Taehyung and Jimin would want?”

He nods and shifts to the other side of the aisle. “What’s my limit?”

You pause for a moment, then stand and fix him with a strange look. “What do you mean?” He isn’t looking at you. He’s comparing two brands of cereal, scanning the nutritional facts on the back. 

“How much am I allowed to spend on food?” he questions, simply. “-and what foods are we allowed to eat?”

You balked at him. “.. .you want me to control your diet?”

“I don’t want you to, but most owners prefer a certain look.” He turns his flat, yellow-grey eyes on you. “So what is it? No carbs? no sugars? Low fat? No fat? Dairy-free-”

“Oh my God, no!” You yelp before he can list any more diets. You’d said it a little louder than you’d intended and a well-dressed mom at the other end of the aisle fixes you two with an odd look before hustling her twins into another part of the store. You wince, but continue in a quieter but no less urgent voice. “I mean, I’m not gonna tell you what you can and can’t eat that’s…” 

“It’s not unusual,” Yoongi cuts in before you can give voice to your thoughts. He sets one of the cereal boxes, decorated with bright colors and little cartoon animals, back on the shelf and tosses the other -something in a dull green and white box with a little piece of wheat on the front- into the cart. “You didn’t feed us last night.”

A pang of guilt shoots through you. You curl your fingers around the bar of the cart, stare at your knuckles. “I’m sorry,” you tell him, with all the sincerity in the world. “I was tired -and I know that’s not an excuse- but I fell asleep without thinking of you guys. It won’t happen again.” 

“Relax,” Yoongi drawls.”It’s not the first time we’ve gone hungry; I’m sure it won’t be the last.” He starts drifting toward the end of the aisle, but before he can go, you catch him by the sleeve of his sweatshirt. 

There’s barely an inch of fabric between your thumb and forefinger, but the look Yoongi gives you makes it look like you’d yanked him back by the collar. He whirls on you, eyes narrowed and lips twisted into something sour. You’d overstepped by grabbing him. Still, you speak. “That was the last time. I mean it.” 

The hybrid’s face shifts from irritation into something unrecognizable. He’s looking at you like there’s an equation written behind your eyes that he’s trying to work out with his own, like if he looks deep enough into them he’ll find the answers etched across your sclera. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up as the seconds drag on, but you don’t look away. Instead, you hold his gaze and let the moment swell under almost unbearable tension.

Yoongi gives first. He tugs his sleeve out of your grip and shuffles back out of reach. “Whatever you say,” he scoffs, stalking off into the next aisle, his ears tilted back and tail tip flicking in irritation. 

You sigh. You’d done it again. The urge to catch him again wells up in you, but you tamp it down. ‘Time and space,’ you remind yourself. ‘Give him time and give him space.’ Satisfied once the distance between the two of you is enough, you go to follow after him, but hesitate as you pass the cereal he’d been looking at. You tug it off the shelf and place it in the basket underneath a few other things so it’d be hidden. You don’t know why and if he asked you about it later you were sure you’d draw a blank. If nothing else, you told yourself as you hurried to catch up with your hybrid, he’d have a choice.

The rest of the grocery trip passed in silence, just as it’d begun. Yoongi didn’t so much as look at you, but that was fine. You were focused on watching him. Anything that he gave more than a passing glance went into the basket. If the bobcat hybrid noticed your rapidly increasing haul, he didn’t say anything about it. He was silent.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      Even when you flinched as the cashier announced the total and you waffled between trying to walk home or calling a taxi. Even in the lobby then the elevator on the way up as Mr. Park talked both of your ears off and you had to stop him from carrying your groceries in and stocking the fridge himself, Yoongi had remained eerily quiet. It’d given you time to think. 

You didn’t know much about hybrids. If you were honest with yourself, you hadn’t known anything about them prior to what you’d anxiety-googled yesterday afternoon. You were so far out of your depth, it was miracle you hadn’t drowned yet. Still, you weren’t completely oblivious.

In between Yoongi’s open hostility, Jimin’s blase attitude toward his own objectification and what snippets you’d heard about Taehyung’s early life, you knew something must’ve been very, very wrong with the people who’d had them before they’d been foisted upon you. The expectation that you were supposed to treat hybrids like actual pets made you uncomfortable enough without the assumption that you’d be dressing them up like dolls and locking the snack cabinets at night. 

A spike of anger shot through you. They might’ve been different than humans but they were still people. They hadn’t deserved whatever shady things their owners had done to them and you didn’t want them to come to expect them from you. You shift the grocery bags up your arm, freeing up a hand so you can punch the code into the door. There was no way around it. The four of you would need to sit down and have a good long talk. 

The second you punch the code into your door it swings open. “Hey, Jim-” the greeting dies on your tongue. It’s not Jimin who meets you at the door, but Taehyung, freshly showered, the curly ends of his hair dripping water onto the white tile and the front of his sweatshirt damp. His eyes were still hidden behind his hair but you could see more of him than you’d been able to that morning when he’d shifted. 

Well, not more of him. He was wearing clothes now, for one- a dark brown version of the sweat suit Yoongi and Jimin both wore. He was taller than you, which you’d known when he’d wrapped his arms around you, but looking up at him now you have to tilt your head back a bit. “Oh,” you say, a little dazed. “Wow.”

The corners of his mouth quirk up in a smile. “Hi.” His voice is still as deep as it was this morning. Was it always like that? He turns his attention to the hybrid behind you and his lips part in a blindingly bright boxy grin. “Hi, hyung.”

Yoongi hums a hello and slips past you through the door. His shoulder brushes against Taehyung’s and the younger hybrid chuffs happily a little in his throat. He leans down as the older man passes and bumps their foreheads together affectionately. Their tails twine together briefly before the gray-haired hybrid is out of reach and dropping an armful of groceries off in the kitchen. 

“You shifted up,” you remark “Did something happen?” There’s a tick of concern in his voice. You step to the side of the doorway so the pair can talk without you in the middle.

Taehyung shakes his head, water droplets scattering. His hyung let out a hiss that erred just on the wrong side of animalistic as some of them hit him. You freeze, but the tiger hybrid just laughs. “No, Jimin and I were just-” His smile falters. You can’t see his eyes but his ears have twitched downward and his tail is suddenly stiff, only the tip ticking back and forth. The hybrid lowers his head, and you finally catch sight of eyes, gleaming amber and full of fear. Behind him, you see Yoongi catch a whiff of his junior’s souring scent and his head whips toward the pair of you, ears straight up and his whole body on high alert. 

Worry draws your brows together. “Taehyung?” you call softly. You reach out with your free hand to touch his shoulder, then think better of it. Your fingers hover uselessly and inch away from him. In this moment, that distance feels a mile wide. The line of his shoulders is rigid and he’s withdrawn into himself. “Taehyung, it’s okay. You don’t have to tell me if you-”

“We went out.” He blurts, snapping his head up to look in your eyes. His own are wide and earnest. “You left your backpack open and I saw the list you made with all the phone numbers and passwords and the door code was on there and I really wanted to go to the park. Jimin told me to wait but I made him come with me; we were only gone for fifteen minutes, I swear. We didn’t even make it; the same police officer from earlier was still on the street.” 

“Taehyung-”

“Please-” he cuts you off before you can even get a word in edgewise. “Please, just punish me; Jimin didn’t do anything. The whole time he was trying to make me go back. He only went with me so I wouldn’t be alone.” 

Your heart wrenches in your chest. You do touch him, then. Your fingertips barely graze the material of his sweatshirt, but he flinches and you pull away. Your hand drops to your side, limp. “Can you and Jimin meet me in the living room?” You ask him, careful to keep your tone light and non-threatening as possible. “We need to talk.” His ears droop, but he nods and shuffles off to do as you ask. You trail behind him into the penthouse, making sure to give him enough space. The last thing you wanted to do right now was crowd him.

You drop the groceries on the counter in the kitchen and look up to find Yoongi squinting at you. He’s coiled up like a spring, ready to bolt at any moment. You try to give him a reassuring smile, but it comes out watery and wan. “It’s okay,” you tell him. “We’re just gonna talk.” You can tell he doesn’t believe you. 

Still, he follows you into the living room, takes a seat on the couch while you settle cross-legged on the ottoman across from him. A few seconds later, Jimin and Taehyung slink down the stairs. The tiger hybrid is clinging to his hyung who, for once, isn't smiling. Jimin’s face is settled into a cool mask of neutrality. You almost don’t recognize him. 

They sink into the couch on either side of Yoongi, their backs stiff and eyes on anything other than you. For a moment, the four of you sit there in uncomfortable silence. You speak first. 

“Jimin, Taehyung, Yoongi-”

“Y/N,” Jimin cuts in, “Whatever Taehyung told you-”

“-I’m sorry.” You finish. That seems to surprise them. You interlock your fingers on your lap and look at each one of them individually. “I’m sorry that I didn’t check to see if there was food in the house last night. I’m sorry that I didn’t make sure you had the things you needed to feel comfortable here. I’m sorry that I made you feel like you weren’t allowed to leave.” 

Taehyung swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. He’s got a death grip on Yoongi’s arm with one hand and the other fisted in the fabric of his sweatpants. “You...You’re not mad?” The tremor in his voice makes your heart ache. 

“No,” you tell him with all the sincerity in the world. “I’m not mad at you. I’m sad that you were ever around someone who made you feel like you needed to apologize for wanting to see the sun and I’m angry that they made you think that was something to be punished for.” It was true. Beneath your sadness, beneath your shock at his expectation of punishment, anger was twisting in your gut. What type of person would reduce another to fear and trembling for the sake of leaving the house? “I’m not going to...to punish you, I need you to know that.” You tell him, before looking at Jimin and Yoongi. “Any of you. Ever. I’m never gonna hurt you.” 

Taehyung’s jaw is clenched like he’s trying not to cry. All the wind has gone out of Jimin like a deflated sail and the leopard hybrid just looks exhausted. Yoongi’s rubbing soothing circles in both of their backs. You can’t tell from his face, but by the way his ears have relaxed, you think he was worried about your reaction, too. 

You let out a little exhale and slouch. “Whatever happened to you with your previous...the people you lived with before? It wasn’t okay.”  You’re as firm with it as you can be while still keeping your tone gentle. “They were supposed to take care of you and love you and help you grow, but if they starved you, if they made you feel this bad, if they treated you like property, then fuck them. I don’t want to be anything like them.” You admit. “I don’t want to be your owner and I don’t want you to be my pets.”

“What do you want us to be to you then?” Yoongi rasps. Despite the question, there’s no challenge in his voice. He’s genuinely asking. 

One corner of your mouth quirks up and you give him a small shrug. “Friends, maybe? Eventually, if we can. For now let’s try…” you search for the word you want. “Roommates?” You supply. “We live together, but you guys don’t need to feel like you owe me anything. I’ll get you phones tomorrow, if you want, and copies of the credit card. We can get you clothes and furniture too. And if there’s anything you want to do or want to see, go see it. The door code is 0613.”

The tension that’d run between the three hybrids like a livewire is gone. Now they’re...if not relaxed, then at least relieved. There’s nothing else to be said. You stand and move to hurry into the kitchen so the trio of hybrids can have their space. The last thing you wanted to do after having a talk about their freedoms was crowd them. Before you can take three steps there’s a hand wrapped around your wrist, holding you in place. It's Taehyung's. 

The tiger hybrid is looking up at you, his eyes beseeching and a nervous tremble in his bottom lip. “Don’t go,” he croaks, sounding like he’s still unsure just how to use his voice. He tugs once on your coat sleeve. “Please.”

Your eyes flick from him to his hyungs. Jimin’s looking at you with apprehension, perched on the edge of the couch like he’s a split second away from helping the tiger hybrid drag you down- but Yoongi’s face is turned away from you. As usual, you can’t tell what he’s feeling. “I’m just going to the kitchen,” you assure him. “I’ve gotta put the food away-” Your brain short circuits as the tiger hybrid flips your hand over and presses his face to your palm. His eyelashes brush against your lifeline; his lips trace the veins in your wrist. 

You’d never say it outloud, but it was hard to deny you were touch starved. You could count on one hand the amount of times someone had touched you gently since your mother died. You didn’t show yourself kindness most days and you’d come not to expect it from others. The world was cold and cruel, and you were far too old to be seeking solace from strangers. You’d thought you were above it, but the feeling of Taehyung nipping at your radial artery is almost enough to make you go to pieces. “Just a little bit,” he huffs, his voice muffled against your skin. 

“...The groceries will get warm,” you argue, finally managing to make your mouth move. “Do you wanna eat hot kimchi?” 

“I’ll put them away.” Yoongi is up and vaulting over the couch before you can get a word in edgewise. With him gone the last of your excuses goes up in smoke. Taehyung smiles against your skin and you let yourself be pulled down.

No sooner have your legs touched the cushion, then Taehyung is snuggled up against your side, his arms wrapped loosely around your middle and the cool tip of his nose pressed into your neck. “Tell me again,” he murmurs softly. “Can you tell me again that you’re not mad?” He wanted reassurance. The least you could do was give it to him.

You slip a hand into his hair, scratch gently at the base of his ears. He chuffs happily, the sound vibrating in his chest as he presses closer to you. “I’m not mad at you, and you’re not in trouble, buddy.” You tell him. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

A warm presence on your left tells you Jimin’s settled in beside you. Sure enough, a second later a golden tail is tracing the edge of your calf. “Don’t leave me out,” he purrs, settling his chin on your shoulder.

You slide a hand into his hair too, letting the locks slip through your fingers as you pet him. “Never.”

The three of you stay like that for what feels like an hour. Even when their hyung finishes putting the groceries away and returns to sit with them -albeit at the far end of the sectional- they don’t seem like they’re in a hurry to disentangle themselves from you. You’re surprised to find you don’t mind it. The weight of two grown men against your shoulders was heavy, but not uncomfortable and they were warm and the steady hum of Jimin purring is almost enough to lull you to sleep. You cut a movie on and order samgyeopsal. You think they’re gonna kill the delivery man for making you get up, and they stay glued to your back even as you pay. It’s not until the first movie goes off and Taehyung and Jimin are playfully bickering over what to watch next that you’re able to slip away to the bathroom.

You shuffle quickly down the wide hallway, trying to remember which door the closest bathroom lay behind. You careen around a corner and run smack into someone. They let out a huff and you stumble back a few steps, an apology on your lips. You look up and find Yokngi there. Guilt bubbles up in your stomach. Between Jimin purring in your ear and Taehyung rubbing his cheek against your hand every ten seconds, you hadn’t even noticed he was gone. “Sorry,” you mumble. 

He quirks an eyebrow at you. “For what?”

You’re not even sure you know.

He stares at you and you stare back, frozen. Finally, the bobcat hybrid sighs and gestures at you. “C’mere,” he mumbles. 

You approach hesitantly, not trusting him to not suddenly snap at you. “Why?” You ask, apprehensive. Should you have not let Taehyung and Jimin scent you? He’d been around the entire time and hadn’t said anything, so you’d thought it was fine. Maybe you’d made a mistake. You gnaw at your bottom lip and creep slowly closer to the hybrid before you. Another miscalculation, another mess-up, another mile tacked on to that incalculable distance between you and Yoongi. Should you apologize again? Would taking a shower help wash their scents away?

Before you can volunteer to do any of that, Yoongi reaches forward, hooks one finger through your belt loop and drags you toward him. You feel a yelp crawling up your throat, but it’s stopped dead in its tracks by the feeling of Yoongi cradling your jaw and his lips pressed against the column of your throat. His spine is tense and his tail is ticking in the way it does when he’s irritated. “...What are you-?”

“They’ve both scented you.” He murmurs. “If I don’t, they’ll think I’m rejecting you. My job as their hyung is to put them at ease. If I can’t do that, I’m useless.” Despite his closeness, despite the way his fingers were slipping into the hair at the base of your skull, despite the little nips he’d started giving you, you could practically feel his reluctance.

You exhale and push against his shoulders. “Yoongi…” He doesn’t budge. “Hey-”

“There’s no good reason for me to not just mark you and get it over with.” There was that word again. You’d forgotten about it in the whirlwind that followed, but Jimin had joked about marking you earlier, hadn’t he? And Yoongi’d gotten upset with him. From what you were gathering, it was a lot more serious than scenting. 

“I don’t want you to.” That gets his attention. The hybrid pulls away and fixes you with an odd look, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“What are you talking about? Owners always want us to mark them.” You feel that same twinge of anger again. The articles had said scenting was a sign of trust and security. It was used to mark family members. Had the people they’d been with before forced their way into their family without the hybrids consent? Without Yoongi’s? No wonder he’d been touchy about his juniors scenting you right away.

“Well, I don’t.” You give him a gentle nudge and put a few inches between the two of you. “I don’t want you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with or not ready for.” You offer him a smile you hope comes across as reassuring. “You not wanting to is a good enough reason for me. Besides,” you say, turning to head back to the living room, the original reason for your trip forgotten. “I’ve never been marked before, so it’s not like i’m missing out on anything.”

At that, something flashes in Yoongi’s eyes that you have no name for. It passes as soon as it’d come. “Come back when you’re ready!” You call over your shoulder, retreating back down the corridor before he can say something one way or another. 

When you settle back on to the couch two minutes later, There’s a movie queued up and ready to be played. It’s an action movie, one you haven’t seen before. “Yoongi’ll be back in a second,” you tell the boys. “Let’s wait for him.” 

Taehyung hums his ascent, leaning in to settle back in the crook of your neck- but something stops him. He hovers near your neck, takes a few short inhales and tosses a look at Jimin behind your back. You frown. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah!” Taehyung responds a bit too quickly, lacing your fingers together to distract you as Jimin gives the other side of your neck the same treatment. The leopard hybrid purrs, seemingly happy at what he’s found. His ears swivel up and a second later, Yoongi slinks back into the living room. 

“Hyung…” Jimin starts, his voice taking on a teasing lilt.

“Play the movie.” His hyung orders. He does, but there’s still a little smirk on his lips.

The screen darkens and the opening credits roll as Taehyung and Jimin settle back against your side, careful to avoid your neck. Yoongi drops onto the couch, this time only a foot away from the three of you. You allow yourself a little spark of relief. The distance was starting to close.

[companionjones]

Can I Use Your Shower?

Pairings: Barney Stinson x Reader, Slight!Barney Stinson x The Random Woman in Barney’s apartment

Fandom: How I Met Your Mother

Summary: The shower at your apartment is cold as all hell, so you ask Barney if you could shower at his apartment.

Warnings: Barney’s usual sexcapades, so many sexual references

*******

    “Oh my god.” Barney’s eyes almost burst out of his head. “It’s 11:30 at night, and you’re at my door? Are we finally going to have sex?!” he finished with a huge grin on his face.

    “Can I use your shower?” you sighed.

    The man nearly jumped in excitement as he yelled, “YOU WANNA DO IT IN MY SHOWER?!”

    “No!” you exclaimed, “Not like that! Just...I’ve been having the worst night of my life, okay? My water finally got turned back on in my apartment after a week, but it seems the super only fixed the cold water. On top of that, I just found out I’m out of shampoo, so I was hoping I could use that too. Can I shower here?”

    Barney’s face changed to one with more sympathy, and he looked you over. You shifted your feet. You knew he could tell you’d been crying.

    “Y/n, you can use my shower whenever you want to.” Barney stepped aside to let you into his apartment. “Just give me a second to clear out the cameras, sex toys, and traction mat that makes a lot safer while I’m giving my women the business...unless you want the mat in there. It does make all things a whole lot safer.”

    All it took for you to start shaking your head was a few flashes in your mind of Barney giving the business to some random women. “I’m good without it, thank you.”

    He just shrugged, “Okay.” He ducked out to take care of whatever he needed to take care of in the bathroom.

    “I’m surprised I caught you at home, Barney,” you called out to him. “I knew it was a long shot coming here. Most of me thought you’d be out running plays or you’d have someone over--”

    “Who are you?” a new voice sounded.

    You turned around and found a woman wrapped in Barney’s blanket and nothing else.

    Barney came stumbling out of the bathroom, arms full of the things he was clearing out for you. “Oh. I forgot you were here, Miss...” he trailed off.

    The woman tried to cover up her embarrassment by adjusting her posture. “I...never told you my last name.”

    Barney was still struggling. “And your first name is...”

    Affronted, the woman stomped back off to Barney’s room.

    “Yeah, just wait there for me.” Barney, for some reason, still thought his night with her could be saved. “I’ll be back in a second--” He was cut off by a slap to the face.

    The woman had slipped her dress back on, and she had her heels in hand. She marched toward the door. She stopped by you, though. “I am so sorry,” the woman apologized sincerely before she exited.

    You and Barney shared a look that said, “That was wild,” before you headed over to Barney to help him pick up the stuff he’d dropped when he was slapped.

    “I think she thought we were together,” you commented after a second.

    “Us? Together? Ha, imagine that,” Barney responded in a semi-joking tone, but he was avoiding your eyes.

    You forced yourself not to think too much about it.

    “So, um, that should be it,” Barney informed once the two of you had gathered everything up. “You’re good to go. Use all the shampoo, conditioner, and body wash you need. I can refill them whenever I want. I got a guy.”

    “Wait, one of your guys put that stuff in there?” You hesitated. “Barney, last time I put lotion from one of your ‘guys’ on my body, I had a rash for a week.”

    Barney was fighting a smirk when he responded, “I got a new bathroom amenities guy after that. This guy gets all his stuff legit. I promise.”

    You eyed him for a second more before stepping into the bathroom. You reached for one of the black towels he had on a shelf.

    Barney’s voice interrupted your movement. “Fun fact: Those towels are made from skunk--”

    Your hand shot back, and you glared at Barney.

    “--I’m only kidding!” Barney laughed before walking away to give you your privacy and empty his arms.

    You rolled your eyes as you shut the bathroom door, but you couldn’t help a smile playing at your lips.

    The shower was really, really nice. Barney’s water pressure made your shower look like a leaky faucet. You also loved using Barney’s amenities. They smelled exactly like Barney. You really liked that.

    “Thank you so much, Barney.” You walked out of his bathroom in your pajamas. You figured on your way over to his place that you wanted to be as comfortable as possible when you got out of the shower.

    “Any time, Y/n.” Barney was on his couch with a glass of scotch in hand. His giant TV was turned on.

    Avoiding the glare of the large screen, you headed for the door. “Well, I better get going,” you added.

    “Wait, Y/n,” Barney calling your attention got you to turn around. “Why do stick around at that place?” he asked. “It seems like something goes wrong every week over there.”

    You shrugged. “It’s all I can afford.” You turned around again.

    He inquired, “Is your heat still off?”

    You sighed, and turned back around. “Maybe.”

    Barney smiled, “Then stay here tonight.”

    You blinked, surprised by the offer. “...No, Barney.”

    “Come on,” he pushed, setting his scotch down and getting up. “I’ll even sleep on the couch, and you can have the bed to yourself.”

    “No. I’m definitely not taking your bed from you, Barney!...Why do you want me to stay here so bad?”

    The question took Barney off guard. It took him a moment to get his words together. “I, well...you know...I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

    Suddenly, it was your turn to be thrown off guard. There was no arguing that Barney really cared about you. You still didn’t want to take advantage of him, however. “...Just one night,” you finalized eventually.

    He cheered.

    “But I’m bot making you sleep on the couch,” you pressed, “We can share the bed.”

    Barney then got a very excited look on his face.

    “We are not having sex,” you denied, looking him straight in the eye.

    He rolled his eyes rather dramatically. “Whatever. Come on, let me get some more pillows and blankets. I keep them hidden usually so the women I sleep with don’t think what they and I are doing is anything more than it is.”

    “‘Course,” you shrugged.

    Sure, Barney was an acquired taste, but you wouldn’t substitute him for anyone. Under that shallow playboy, you knew his true, caring self. You absolutely loved him.

*******

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading! Fill up that heart and reblog if you liked it. I would also really appreciate a comment, if you have the time. If you would like to read more, I have more How I Met Your Mother fics over on my page. You should check it out. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you! <3 <3 <3

[obey-only-me]

A Series of Markings - Lucifer By: Akuzondelivery

The usual crowd of brothers huddled around you in the attic room. This was the place to be, lots of laughter, a movie on, and even snacks. But one brother chose to stay back.

Lucifer peeked through a crack in the door to check on you and his troublesome brothers. But really he was watching you. The way they made you laugh, the way they held your arm or hand, how close they were to you did something to him. He wanted to steal you away right then and there. But he also knew how happy everyone made you. With a disappointed sigh he took a step away from the door and headed to his study.

As you and the brothers carried on, you became aware that there was one member of the family absent. Telling them you were grabbing a drink from the kitchen, you excused yourself from the group to go see the eldest. Knowing his affinity for records you knew just where to go. The sound of his favorite record led you straight to him. His study was always the first place you’d look for him. Somehow Lucifer would instinctively go there when he yearned to see you. Thinking, hoping, that you would eventually seek him out.

“Lucifer. May I come in?” You ask politely from the doorway.

“MC. Of course. You’re always welcome.”

He motioned for you to take a seat next to him. The fire was burning and the record played a smooth jazz quietly in the back ground. A comfortable silence fell upon the room as you laid your head on his chest, while his large gloved hand rested on your shoulder.

“Did you get tired of my brothers already?” He smirked.

���Haha, no. They’re still watching a drama Asmo picked out. It was lonely without you though…”

“Oh? You’re still lonely even with 6 demons around you?”

A blush crept across your cheeks.

“I’m lonely…whenever you’re not around.”

Lucifer was slightly surprised to hear such a quiet but sincere response from you. How cute. His human was starting to learn who they really belonged to. Your head on his chest suddenly felt warmer. Lucifer snaked his arms around you to pull you closer, lifting your chin with his finger.

“Well…I’m here now.” He whispered.

Slowly he leaned in to kiss you, but stopped suddenly noticing a bruise on your neck. You grew nervous, swallowing hard, remembering the after school romp with Mammon a while ago. Lucifer peeled back your collar to better view Mammon’s signatures. The heat in your face grew as you avoided Lucifer’s scowl.

“What happened to your neck?” His booming voice filled the study.

“I…um…Mammon-“

Hearing his brother’s name was enough to figure it out. Suddenly you were pinned with your back to the couch you shared. Lucifer loomed above you, obviously irritated. You worried he would scold you, even kick you out of the study. But instead his lips crashed into yours as he harshly kissed you.

“That’s just like that idiot… To keep touching what’s mine.” You were relieved to hear a slightly playful tone, but froze at his very serious expression. “Come, we have to do something about these marks.”

You followed close behind Lucifer while he held your hand. An mix of excitement and anxiety filled your chest. When you reached his room he wasted no time by throwing you on to his bed where you landed with a bounce. Lucifer slipped off his gloves and jacket, tossing them haphazardly. His soft hands caressed your cheek as he lowered you on to your back again, hovering close to your lips.

“I can’t erase these fading marks…but I can add my own.” He spoke with a smirk as he kissed down to the opposite side of your neck. His tongue pulsed in small circles causing you to shiver. Soon a sucking noise and sharp teeth began assaulting your neck. Each touch falling in a straight line. You moaned at his hot kisses.

“Does this turn you on MC? Me so desperately marking you?”

His eyes were dark with lust as he continued to nip and bite savagely at your neck. Another moan escaped you as the heat in your core began to rise.

“Wh-why are you- Nnnnn!” You tried to make out but his hands began caressing your nipples through the shirt you wore. Skilled fingers pinched and twirled as you squirmed beneath his touch. You held his broad shoulders as he nimbly unbuttoned your shirt to continue his trail.

“Why? Because you’re mine. And those who try to take you away from me will know you’re mine.”

Lucifer breathed against your sensitive peaks as his starving lips engulfed them. It was getting harder to contain your vocalized pleasure. Electricity shot through your whole body.

“M-make…make me yours Lucifer.” You sighed.

A low chuckle vibrated against his lips, parting from your body a moment before his teeth gently bit down. You bit your bottom lip to keep a loud moan from bellowing out.

“Louder…let my brothers know you’re taken.” Lucifer bit slightly harder. But you resisted. Keeping your lips and eyes closed tightly. His warmth pulled away when he realized you were holding back.

“That’s no good MC.” He said seductively, moving a hand beneath your waistband. “I have to hear you beg for me.”

His cool fingers caressed your heat, rubbing the most sensitive part. This time there was no holding back. Your moans spilled out as he continued playing with you. His kisses trailed down your body while removing your clothes. Once your arousal was bare, his hands still stroking you, he smiled at your disposition. “You look so ready, but I can’t spoil you yet.”

That’s when you noticed his need pressing against his pants. His bulge was ready to burst as he rubbed the front of his trousers to tease you.

“You want this don’t you? Tell me how much.”

“Lucifer…I-I want it so bad. Please, every hole I have is craving you.”

“More.” He began petting himself faster.

“Please, it hurts. My body needs you.”

“What does your body need? What’s does your body want?”

“Y-your…” it was so embarrassing to say. But if you were going to have Lucifer fuck you the way you needed, you would have to say it. “Your…cock. I need your huge cock inside me.” You felt shame and arousal saying it. “My body wants you to use me up.”

“Good MC. Ill give you what you want and more.”

Lucifer shed his clothing, agonizingly slow. You sat up right but he motioned for you to kneel on the floor. Of course you obliged. He removed the final layer covering his length, making sure it was close to your face. Big all around, thick and long.

“Open those beautiful lips for me.”

A haze of lust flooded over you as you obliged. The tip of his cock teased against your lips before full entering your mouth and throat. His velvety skin felt and tasted so good, the way he filled your mouth sent you into a heat. Your enthusiasm to please him was well rewarded.

“You look so good with my cock in your mouth.” He hissed as you moved your head back and forth, lips curling tightly around his base. The way he hit your throat was smooth, but the fullness made your eyes water slightly. His low moans encouraged you to move faster, twirling your tongue around his thick shaft. “MC…” he whispered, starting to gently buck his hips into your face. Soon though, he pulled away and out of your throat, leaving you gasping. You wanted more. Your hands wrapped around his base as you stuck his pulsing member to the back of your throat.

“So greedy…” he laughed, placing a hand on the back of your head as you drooled and sucked all over him.

“It’s so good Lucifer.” You managed to say between breaths. He hummed in approval, his breathing was becoming labored.

“You can have as much as you want. Don’t stop MC.” His face was flush with desire. “I’m going to fill you up.”

Soon his cock expanded and stiffened as his essence flowed down your throat. Low and loud moans slipped from his lips. You swallowed and sucked trying to milk him dry. Lucifer pulled himself out and swept you into his arms. Without hesitation he put you down on your back and positioned himself between your legs.

“Y-you’re still…?” You were breathless and needy.

“Of course. I’m going to fill you up, all of you.” His devilish smirk sent your heart fluttering. Your excitement must have been evident as he teased between your legs again. As he explored inside of you, hearing you moan and feeling your hips buck, his other hand found itself rubbing his length until it hardened fully again. Once he was certain you were wet and ready he lined his arousal to your pleading opening.

“MC…” Lucifer slowly sank into you, making sure you felt every inch. “Take all of me, I’m going to stuff you full of my cock all night.”

Your moaned response was all he needed to know to continue. He slowly pulled out and roughly thrusted back in, making sure to touch every pleasure point of yours. Your head instinctively laid back as pleasure washed over you.

“Lucifer….” you moaned his name in your most sensual voice. This made the eldest brother force himself inside you harder and faster.

“Louder.” He slapped your ass, leaning more into you while giving you orders.

“Nnnn! L-Lucifer.” This time you were louder but not loud enough. He gave you another spanking, harder and louder than before.

“I said louder.”

“Lucifer!” You cried out as your body gripped around his cock.

His thrusts were relentless, but felt so good against your walls. His big cock was stretching you to the limit. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he went back to paying attention to your chest. The biting and nipping soon traveled back to your neck and the new hickies that were left in his wake.

“You feel so good. I can’t…I can’t hold on.”

You spoke through your moans. He met your lips with a rough kiss, caressing your tongue with his. Lewd noises filled the room as you got closer and closer.

“Fuck…” he whispered into your ear. “Cum for me. Cum around me while I claim your insides. I’ll mark you from within.”

That was it, his sexy voice echoing through you took you over the edge. Your body tensed and eased while your pleasure released. And sure enough Lucifer’s second orgasm followed. He could feel himself emptying entirely into you. And you could feel his large load warming you up and leaking from between your legs.

The both of you were left breathless, slowly separating from each other. You laid side by side, looking into each other’s eyes as you came down from your high. Lucifer tucked a strand of hair behind your ear as he admired the marks he left on your neck and chest. Darker than anything Mammon left on you.

“Hmm. My marks won’t last forever…but I do hope I’ve made me intentions clear.” Lucifer mused while propping himself with one hand. “You’re mine MC. Even if my brothers mark you, you’ll always be mine.”

Your heart jumped at his words. Too tired to speak you moved closer to Lucifer to hold him tightly. Your face was hidden in the crook of his neck. He laughed at your languid movements. Though he was also tired he made sure to clean you and himself up before covering you in his soft comforter. Slipping beneath the covers with you to hold you closely, a small noise escaped you.

“I’m all yours…” you whispered as your tiredness started to take over, closing your eyes to ease into sleep.

You couldn’t see the face he was making but it was full of love and admiration. He kissed your head and fed you praises as he drifted into sleep with you.

“No…I’m all yours MC.” 💕

[i-simp-for-gintoki]

Teaching Sanji how to make a meal he’s never heard of

Did this for randomly for fun, idk the idea hit me as i was drinking coffee at 5am. this is completely unrevised and unedited so its probably all over the place knowing my tired self. 

Also a few of my irl friends know this acc and im suddenly im kinda hella embarrassed to post anything lmao

hrng theres always so much dialogue but im to lazy to add a background and stuff for a proper one shot aaaaa

it was a lazy day on the sunny

the next island was still quite a ways away so everyone was doing there own thing to pass the time

but you were feeling kinda hungry, so of course you call sanji over

arriving at your side in record breaking speeds he smiled as he grabbed your hand and kissed it

“how may i help you my love?”

you returned his smile and laughed

“im feelin kinda hungry, do you think you can make me something to eat?”

he seemed to glow at your request and nodded his head

“Of course i can y/n-swan! Do you have something in mind or should i just make the usual”

you tilted your head in thought as you thought of the dish

“Actually i do have an idea”

You told him the dish and expected him to immediately run off like always but instead he blinked

“Erm...can you repeat that please?”

Telling it to him once more, the blond frowned and closed his eyes in thought

“I don’t believe i’ve ever heard of this dish, do you think you can describe it?”

“Sanji, don’t tell me you’ve never heard of this dish before?!” you say, eyes wide with shock

And now he feels even more guilty than before

He knows that there are food and meals out there he’s never heard of, but now when your requesting one of them and he cant do anything about it? He feels awful

“I apologize y/n-swan. I’ll make you some--” you interrupt him by poking his chest “Nope you’re not gonna cook anything now” 

This time he’s the one whos surprised

“Bu-” “Alright Sanji, today im going to teach you one of the best meals out there” 

Grabbing his hand, you lead him to the kitchen with a smile

“Y/n-swan...you can cook??” “Of course i can! I may not be a pro like you are, but i know a couple dishes pretty well. Only reason you don’t ever see me in the kitchen is simply because im lazy. Plus i prefer your cooking more, feels like im eating food that only royalty deserves”

His heart seemed to explode at that, he quickly pulled you back into a tight hug

“Y/n-swaaaaan~! What did i do to deserve an angel like you?” you laughed and hugged him back equally as tight

Once you finally made it to the kitchen, the chef grew excited

Excited to learn a new dish, excited that you are the one teaching it to him, excited to taste his lovely s/o’s cooking for the first time

You turned to him and crossed your arms

“Alright, how do you want to do this? Do you want to do it while i explain the steps, or do you want to just watch me make it?”

He thought for a few moments. While he was tempted to do it himself, he really wanted to try your cooking 

“I’ll watch you do the cooking, but i’ll help prep if thats alright with you. Just tell me what to grab and ill get it!”

You nodded your head and begun to list the ingredients

Throughout the whole process, Sanji was much quieter than you had initially thought he would be

Much less fawning over your actions, and more determination and focus as his blue eyes watched every little thing you did

Every now and then he would ask some questions or clarification but he didn’t say much else

Though actually, i think he would randomly give compliments to you while you cooked 

Soon enough the meal was complete, and suddenly you became slightly self conscious about your cooking

“Alright Sanji, the plating is a bit messy, and the flavors are probably not up to your standards but-” “Nonsense. I’m sure it tastes amazing, after all you were the one to make it”

You sigh and place the dish in front of him

He inspects the dish for a few seconds, turning it around and smelling it, sometimes gave it a light poke or two before finally taking a bite

He closes his eyes as he chewed but they suddenly shot open

“This is really good!”

“Really? You don’t have to be nice you know, its fine if you dont like it” you say but he shakes his head

“No no, this is seriously really delicious! Amazing job y/n-swan! The seasoning is amazing and the texture is very nice, the flavor isn’t too strong or light its just right. This is a great dish that I will definitely try to make in the future”

You can’t help but get a bit flustered at the compliments

“Thats..thats very sweet of you to say thank you” 

You lean over the table and kiss his cheek

From that alone he had to fight against getting a nose bleed honestly

“Now eat up, i believe you were the hungry one after all” he says and you nod

“Sure, lemme just grab another plate and fork and we can split it” you say but he quickly stands up “Here, let me grab it for you. Its the least i can do”

Standing up, he walks towards where the dishes and silverware is but pauses

“Instead of dirtying more things, how about you let me feed you?” he asks with a cheeky smile

You roll your eyes with a smile, deciding to indulge him of his request you nod

“You know what? Sure why not”

Later on he would practice the dish and have you taste it to see if it was correct/to your liking

Unsurprisingly, It only took him a few attempts to nail it 

Another one to add his own flair to it and make it even better

And man, the proud grin he had when he served you this dish

Like many of his other dishes, he practiced it to the point where he could probably make this perfectly blind folded

He gives you a sincere thank you for teaching him a new dish

Will make it for you whenever you ask

But please make him more food, he absolutely loved your cooking and hope it wasn’t a one time thing

[lovethisletters]

Belly boops for the Side Characters! + Luke!

This is the second part to the Belly boop hc! You can find the first one here!

Something that I failed to mention is that I also do this whenever I seek reassurance bc I'm lacking confidence or something, so I included this here.

Keys: MC = your main character's name.

Summary: The Side Characters discover a peculiar trait of MC: belly boops.

Additional notes: MC is gender neutral!

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Diavolo

It happened in a RAD council meeting of all places...great.

Diavolo was in the middle of his speech when he suddenly snorted in laughter; startling everyone in the room who then directed their eyes at you.

...Or more specifically...your finger still poking Diavolo's belly.

Turns out that the prince of hell is very ticklish.

You froze, not knowing what to say or how to react to the murderous glance Lucifer directed at you while Diavolo was still laughing in the background.

When he finally managed to calm down, he was very curious about why you had done such random thing?

—MC, is this some kind of ritual from the human world? a tradition, perhaps?

You struggled to find the correct words to explain your weird habit.

Wich was a bit hard, given the fact that Lucifer never once let his "I'm going to hang you in cerberus room" kind of stare fall off.

When you did finally manage to explain Diavolo the meaning behind such weird occurrence.

He let out a warm laugh and gently booped your belly back.

—Thank you for telling me, MC. Please, ignore what Lucifer has to say! I'll be more than happy if this becomes something usual between the two of us!—He said close to your ear, loud enough for Lucifer to hear but quiet enough for it to resemble a whisper.

From that day onwards, expect unexpected Belly boops from the Demon prince!

Barbatos

Barbatos had invited you to the Market to buy some groceries when you first poked him.

At first he thought you were trying to get his attention, so he turned towards you and waited for you to say something.

But you only returned his glance, confused as to why he had suddenly stop walking just to look at you.

When none of you said anything, Barbatos carried on, thinking perhaps it was a mistake and he must have imagined it or something.

But then a few moments later...he felt it again...

He looked down just to see your finger poking the side of his stomach, confused he looked up at your face; only to find the most casual expression ever, like if you haven't even noticed what you where doing.

He was a bit weirded out...but ok, he'll just put a little distance between the two of you.

After that the belly boops became a frequent occurrence every time you'll see each other.

He'll be bringing you tea...boop!

He'll be opening the door for you and...boop!

You'll be saying goodbye to him and...boop!

He doesn't like it, but good ol' Barbatos is too polite to tell you.

So he just...ever so discreetly dodges the boop, takes a step back or softly puts your hand away.

Unlike the other times, you did noticed you where booping him; but as he didn't seem to be bothered by it, you just continued.

Is not until Barbatos starts to do this things that you notice he actually doesn't enjoy it.

You decided to talk to him, apologize and explain that you weren't doing such thing to mock him or anything; but that you were doing it out of feelings of trust and a sense of comfort around him and that was your way to express it.

He smiles sincerely at you.

—If that's the case then feel free to continue, MC; I'm glad to be someone you trust.

And by all means you did.

Barbatos now quickly grows fond of your belly boops, knowing that such simple gesture signifies the strength on your relationship.

Solomon

Perhaps the first time it happened was while he was tutoring you in casting spells.

He was concentrated in explaining you the correct wording when he felt a light pressure in his stomach...it was your finger.

—MC, What are you doing?—he asked tilting his head in confusion, his gaze never straying from your finger still in his stomach.

You quickly put your finger away and tried to act as if nothing had happened, but Solomon never stopped giving you this questioning and confused look.

So you quickly explain to him that this is something you do with people you feel comfortable with, sometimes to unconsciously seek for reassurance.

You watched as a small smirk creeped over his lips wich each and every word that came out of your mouth.

—Ahhh~ I see~

And with that you realize, you might have committed the biggest mistake of your life.

Every time you poke him, his smile spreads wider than the Cheshire cat and his eyes sparkle with a glint of mischief as he proceeds to tease you endlessly.

But sometimes, when he notices that you poked him in seek of comfort or because you where feeling anxious.

He'll lower down your hand and intertwine his fingers with yours, holding your hand as long as you need to, letting you know...

That he'll always be there for you.

Simeon

Simeon had offered to wait for you and walk you home since you had cleaning duties to do and the brothers where all in a council meeting.

And as the two of you arrived at the house of lamentation, you offered to prepare some tea to thank him for walking you home; which he kindly accepted.

As you two where talking about your experiences in the devildom and laughing at the funny shenanigans y'all went through.

You unconsciously...just...boop! in the middle of the conversation.

Simeon froze for a second and stared down at where your finger met his belly.

Embarrassed you pulled back and tried to explain yourself. When all of a sudden...

boop! He had booped you back.

Simeon was overjoyed when you booped him, because you see...he's a boop person too!

Tho he's more used to booping people's noses or cheeks, he's still glad that you did what you did.

No need to apologize or explain yourself to him, there's an unspoken understanding between boop people!

He knows that not all people like it, and can be a bit embarrassing to try and explain why you do such thing, belive me he has had to explain himself to Michael more than just a few times...

For a moment you two share a glint of happiness and mischief, not needing any words to understand what's about to happen.

BOOPING WAR!!!!!

He boops your stomach mercilessly but you don't hold back either!

When the brothers arrive they just stare at the two of you in pure confusion.

They're so weirded out by this: you two poking each other's bellys and laughing and behaving like toddlers.

Lucifer tries to break off whatever weird contest you two are having...oh boi

—Simeon, MC! Why are you engaging in such childish behavior?!? Have you no...

—boop!

Simeon had just booped the avatar of pride in the nose...with sound and all...

You couldn't help but laugh at Lucifer's bewildered expression, but you weren't the only one...the brothers also couldn't stop themselves from laughing their butts off.

May god have mercy on all of you because y'all grounded.

Completely worth it tho...

Overall, Simeon is happy to find someone who shares his same habit and will always be glad to start a booping war with you.

Luke

Luke is just too cute! You couldn't help yourself and booped his stomach the second you met him!

—Hey! Quit it! What do you think you're doing!?!?

The puppy angy >:c

He has enough with Simeon's booping and now he has to deal with you?!?!

Slaps your hand every time you try to boop him.

I think Luke's feelings towards you booping him can be summarized in this:

▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️

If you find any grammatical errors let me know! I'm trying to improve my english and that would help me so so much!

I will forever thank you if you go check out my other profile: @aileysmirnov  where I post things about my OC: edits, one-shots, imagines, art, etc. If you like Greek mythology and the bat family maybe you would get to be as fond of her as much as I am!

Anyway, thank you for reading!

[rax-writes]

Love Letters

Fandom:  Stranger Things Pairing:  Steve Harrington x Reader Warnings:  None Notes:  Once again, I thank @mxgyver​ for the inspiration. It appears that we’re both suckers for mutual pining. ♥

As you waved goodbye to your two best friends and left Scoops Ahoy, Robin watched Steve intently. She took note of the goofy, love-struck smile on his face, and the way he blatantly stared at your ass as you walked away, and she couldn’t help but laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Steve asked, redirecting his attention from you to his coworker – but only after you were completely out of his line of sight, not wanting to miss a second of his opportunity to admire you.

“You’ve got it bad, Harrington,” Robin observed, still chuckling.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Steve said, shrugging with feigned nonchalance as he leaned against the counter.

“Sure you don’t,” Robin responded sarcastically, rolling her eyes. “You need to just ask her out already.”

“Why? Do you think she’d say yes?” Steve asked quickly – a bit too quickly – which caused Robin to start laughing again. “Hey, I’m serious! You’ve been friends with her for way longer than I have. If anybody would know whether or not she likes me, it’d be you. So, come on, spill the beans.”

Steve wasn’t wrong. You and Robin had been best friends since middle school, but you had only recently befriended Steve, after you’d both gotten wrapped up in the Demodogs / Upside Down situation last fall. And yes, she definitely knew how you felt about him – specifically the ginormous crush you’d developed on “King Steve.”

Before now, Robin never would have pictured the two of you together. You used to be more of the nerdy type, preferring to keep to yourself and your few friends, whereas Steve was one of the most popular kids in high school. But now that she knew Steve outside of school, and from seeing how the two of you interact with one another – she thought you were the perfect pair.

“Well, obviously, I would be a terrible best friend if I were to, as you say, ‘spill the beans,’” Robin began, using air quotes to reference his previous comment.

“So there are beans to spill,” he noted, sounding excited.

Ignoring him, Robin continued, “However, I will say this: You remember that teddy bear you gave her earlier this year? That tiny, little red one?”

“Yeah,” Steve said, smiling warmly at the memory. “She wouldn’t admit it, but she was kind of sad because nobody sent her one of those dumb, anonymous carnations on Valentine’s Day at school, and everybody else had gotten at least one. So I ditched last period to run to the store and get her something, and that bear was pretty much all they had left. It wasn’t exactly what I had in mind, but she seemed to like it. She’s probably thrown it away by now, though.”

“She sleeps with it every single night.” Robin watched as Steve’s eyebrows raised slightly in surprise. “And the carnation you got? With the little note that said “I think you’re perfect”? That was from her.”

“What?!” he exclaimed, his jaw dropping. “There’s no way! I thought – I hoped it was her, so I compared her handwriting to the note, but it didn’t match!”

“That’s because she had me write it for her, so you wouldn’t know it was her.”

“Why didn’t she want me to know?” Steve asked, sadness tinting his voice. “I’d have asked her out on the spot.”

“I asked her the same thing, but she was adamant that you didn’t see her that way at all. She was worried that things between you would get weird if you knew the note was from her, but she still wanted to get it off her chest in some way, even if it was in secret.”

“Wow,” he murmured, staring at the ground in shock. “She’s the smartest girl I know, but she’s somehow so clueless…. I’ve been in love with her for months.”

“Well, I’ve said too much already, but I’ll reiterate: you need to ask her out already,” Robin stated, and Steve just nodded, lost in thought as he continued to stare blankly at the tile floor. After a couple seconds, he abruptly looked up at her, and she could practically see the lightbulb going off in his head.

“I know just the thing.”

Steve called you right when his shift ended at 4:00 PM, and asked you to come pick him up, claiming that his car wasn’t running and he needed a ride home. When you got there, he was waiting for you outside the mall, having changed out of his work uniform into a sweater and jeans (and touched up his hair, of course). He jogged over to your car just as you parked, and waved for you to roll down your window.

“Hey, before we go, would you mind coming in with me? There’s something I want to show you.”

If it had been anyone else, you might have said no, that you're tired and you'd rather just go home. But this was Steve, and he was looking at you with those big, brown puppy-dog eyes. So, you smiled and nodded at him, then got out of your car to follow him. He took a second to double-check the mall map just inside the front doors, then grabbed your hand, saying, “Come on, it’s this way.” You were really glad that he was busy navigating to wherever the hell it was he was taking you, because that meant he didn’t notice how red your face got.

The fact that Steve fucking Harrington was holding your hand dazed you to the point that you weren’t paying attention in the slightest as he led you through the mall. Eventually, he stopped in front of a store, which was evidently your destination. You looked up to see a sign saying ‘Build-A-Bear’ atop the doorway. Steve just grinned at you, excitement written all over his face, as you raised an eyebrow at him.

“Uh… are we at the right place?”

“Yep!” he answered simply, before pulling you inside. You tried to hide your frown as he let go of your hand, before he placed his hands on your shoulders and spun you to face the wall of... what appeared to be empty stuffed animal carcases. “Alright, pick one.”

It finally clicked then: he took you here to have you make one as a gift. You turned to him with a bright smile, “Really?”

“Yes, really,” he answered, mirroring your smile. “Whichever one you want.”

You spent a good ten minutes figuring out which you liked best, before deciding on a soft, dark brown bear. You told Steve that you just thought this one was the cutest, but really, it was the fact that its color reminded you of Steve’s eyes, and its fluffy fur reminded you of Steve’s hair. (And yes, you’re well aware that that’s super cheesy.) The employee smiled kindly at the two of you as you brought the bear over to her for stuffing. She gave you the same spiel that she’d have given a child – such as instructing you to place a kiss on the tiny felt heart before she put it in the bear’s chest, so “she’ll always know how much you love her!” Steve watched you with adoration as you followed along with all the steps, before the lady asked if you’d like to record something on their little gadget and place it in the bear’s paw, so that whenever you squeezed that spot, it would play.

“Yes, yes we do,” Steve interjected, and you glanced at him. He ignored your confusion, asking the woman, “Is it okay if I borrow it for a minute? I want to record something, but I don’t want my friend here to hear it just yet.”

The lady handed him the device, and he shot you a grin before holding up a finger to signal that he’d be back in one moment, then jogged outside the store. After about a minute, Steve jogged back in and returned it to the lady. You continued to look at him with a raised brow, but he ignored you, standing silently next to you as he watched the employee. She was careful to not press on the device, which would ruin Steve’s little surprise, as she placed it in the bear’s paw, then added your desired amount of stuffing to the bear with their fancy machine, sewed it up, and handed it back to you. She guided the two of you over to the register, where Steve paid for your bear, then walked with you out of the store, heading back to the parking lot.

“So when exactly am I allowed to listen to this super secret message?” you inquired, glancing up at Steve, who just smiled slightly. Wordlessly, he took your free hand, just as he had on the way to Build-A-Bear, and you held the bear tightly to your chest with your other arm. The same blush from before crawled its way up your neck and onto your face.

“You can in just a minute, when we get outside.”

You nodded, then cleared your throat and started speaking about the first thing that came to mind, to try and distract yourself so that the blush would fade. Unfortunately for you, what you ended up rambling about only caused you more embarrassment, and the blush worsened.

“I forgot to say it earlier, but thank you so much for getting this for me. It was an awesome surprise. This is probably kind of dumb, but I, uh… I’ve still got that one you gave me on Valentine’s Day. It’s getting kind of worn out, so –” you cut yourself off, realizing that you almost admitted to sleeping with the damn thing, which would probably sound super weird to him. “Well, I mean, it’s just sitting up on a shelf or whatever, so it’s not getting worn out, just… dusty. Yeah, it’s getting dusty. Um, anyway, this is a nice upgrade from that one, and I appreciate it.”

Steve chuckled as he nodded, then responded sincerely, “It’s no problem. I’m glad you like it – and I’m glad you kept the one from Valentine’s Day.”

He held the door open for you as you exited the mall, and headed back over to your car. The anticipation began to bubble up inside you, as you started to seriously wonder what in the world he would have said on the recording. Steve remained silent as you maneuvered through the parking lot, and both times you glanced at him, he looked almost… nervous? Must have been worrying about what’s wrong with his vehicle or something, you thought. Before you could ask, you’d arrived at your car, so you quickly leaned against the hood and faced him.

“Can I listen to it now?”

Steve took a deep breath, then gave you a worry-laced smile and said, “Yeah, go for it.”

You practically squealed with excitement as you held the bear in front of you and squeezed his paw, then you heard Steve’s voice through the tiny speaker.

“A little birdie told me that you’re the one who sent me that carnation on Valentine’s Day senior year. And I just wanted to say… I think you’re perfect, too. And I love you. Will you be my girlfriend?”

You felt your heart stop and your breath catch in your throat. You stared at the bear for a few moments, before you determined that yes, the recording had actually said that. It wasn’t a figment of your imagination. Steve Harrington just said that he loves you and asked you to be his girlfriend. Holy shit. Holy shit.

“So, um…” Steve began, snapping you out of your stupor. He cleared his throat and shoved his hands in his pockets. “If you don’t feel the same way, that’s totally fine. I mean, Valentine’s Day was months ago, so I get it if your feelings have changed or whatever. I just… I don’t know, I wanted to give it a shot, but you don’t –”

Without even thinking, you lunged at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a kiss. You poured as much warmth and passion and love into the kiss as you could, and relished in the feeling of his arms wrapping around your waist, holding you tightly against his chest. It felt like the kiss lasted for an eternity, but it still wasn’t long enough before you pulled away slightly to catch your breath, and respond how you should have responded a few minutes ago, if you hadn’t been stunned to silence.

“Nothing has changed, Steve. I definitely still think you’re perfect. I love you too, and I want nothing more than to be your girlfriend.”

“Oh, thank God,” he muttered, then let out a loud exhale. “You got so quiet after you played the recording, I was scared shitless.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, chuckling at how visibly terrified he was. He just smiled at you.

“It’s okay. The most amazing, beautiful, intelligent, kind-hearted woman I’ve ever met is my girlfriend now, so I’d say I’m doing alright,” Steve quipped, then kissed you again, slower and sweeter this time. He abruptly pulled back a bit, “Oh yeah, by the way, my car is fine.”

“So this was all just a clever ruse to get me here, to Build-A-Bear?” you asked, grinning. Then a realization dawned on you. “Wait, Robin told you about the note?!”

Steve burst into laughter, then nodded. “Don’t be mad at her, though! She only told me about it to convince me to ask you out. Just like you with the carnation, I’ve been terrified to tell you how I feel, because I was scared to make things weird – or worse, lose you as a friend.”

“Hate to break it to ya, but you’re stuck with me, Stevie,” you stated, giving him another quick kiss. Steve smiled down at you, his eyes full of adoration.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[flightlessangelwings]

Hot Chocolate and Kisses

Marcus Moreno x gn!reader

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: none really, fluff, Marcus being a perfect boyfriend 

Notes: This is part of the Laundry Day series, but can be read on its own. Link to the rest is in my masterlist. I imagine in this setting that the Heroics are like celebs, and Marcus is too much of a sweetheart to turn people down. I hope y’all like this cause I had fun writing this one!

~

Every nerve in your body felt like it was on fire as you walked towards the coffee shop. It was hard to believe that just a week ago you bumped into the most handsome man you had ever seen in your life. You felt luckier than ever that he gave you his number when you asked and actually called you the very next day. This whole date was Marcus’ idea after you chided the hot chocolate stain on his shirt the day you met.

“The hot chocolates at this place are the best,” he insisted on the phone and it didn’t take much more convincing from there.

You picked out a casual outfit, but you still felt cute. A coffee shop date was the perfect start in your eyes: fun, casual, and laid back. It had been some time since you had dated, but there was something about Marcus that made you want to take the chance again. You lingered at the door for a moment and took in a deep breath before you stepped inside.

Marcus was already there and he spotted you immediately as if he watched for you every time someone walked through the door. The truth was that his eyes did dart right to the door every time it opened in the hope that it was you. He was just as nervous as you were. It had been a long time since he had been on a date that he thought he forgot how to do it. But the smile on your face when you spotted him made all the nerves melt away.

“Hey,” Marcus gave you a half smile as he stood and pulled a chair out for you, “You look nice.”

“So do you,” you felt butterflies in your stomach at the compliment from him. He was dressed casually as well in a nice shirt and jeans, you noticed he wore his glasses again. It was a look you absolutely loved.

“Not wearing ‘don’t talk to me’ today?” Marcus joked. When you tilted your head in confusion he clarified, “That’s what Missy and I call that shirt.”

When you met Marcus at the laundromat that day, you wore the exact same shirt as his daughter and you all had a laugh about it. “No, I want you to talk to me today,” you joked back. 

Marcus grinned as he glanced down, “I hope you don’t mind I got you a drink already,” he seemed nervous as he gestured to the two mugs on the table, “They make this s'mores hot chocolate that no one else in the city has and I wanted you to try it.”

Your eyes lit up, “I love s’mores!”

Marcus gave you a light-hearted laugh that made your heart skip a beat, “Cheers then.”

It was as if the two of you had known each other for months instead of meeting for the second time. Conversation flowed so naturally with Marcus and you both made each other laugh with ease. Everyone else in the cafe seemed to disappear and all that was in focus to you was Marcus. 

But, there were others in the cafe. And some of the others seemed to stare at your date a lot. You furrowed your brows in confusion but you didn’t say anything. Marcus either didn’t seem to notice or he just didn’t pay the lingering eyes any mind.

“Excuse me, Mr. Moreno,” a woman with her son tapped Marcus on his shoulder, “Would you mind taking a picture with my son? He adores you.”

Marcus glanced over at you with an apologetic look before he answered the woman, “Of course.”

You watched in silent awe as the woman’s son leaned against Marcus and smiled widely for a photo. The kid rambled on for a few minutes about how much he admired him and how cool he was before his mother ushered him away. Just as Marcus turned back to you, someone else approached him and asked for a photo as well. You sat still in silent confusion as people crowded your table and fawned over your date.

“Marcus Moreno, use your powers!” one child spoke up above the crowd.

“Yeah! Let us see!” another bounced around, and a chorus of children joined in.

“Alright, alright,” Marcus chided with a grin, “But then I have to get back to my date here. Deal?”

The children all cheered and nodded their heads enthusiastically. 

That was when it dawned on you: your date was Marcus Moreno, the leader of the Heroics. Your mouth dropped open as the realization came over you. Suddenly, you felt so stupid that you didn’t know who he was until that moment and you hoped he didn’t think less of you for not bringing it up sooner. But a pair of hands on top of yours shook you out of your thoughts.

You looked up to see Marcus’ apologetic face right in front of yours, “Sorry about this,” he leaned in and spoke to you in a hushed tone, “After this I’ll be done, ok?”

All you could do was nod as you watched him stand and survey the cafe. He looked around for something he could summon. A grin graced his face when his eyes landed on a vase on the counter on the far end of the room and he reached his hand out to summon it. You watched in awe along with everyone else in the cafe as Marcus concentrated all of his energy into the vase and within moments, the vase shot across the room and into his outstretched hand.

Applause filled the room as all the children bounced around, but Marcus barely even noticed it. He plucked a single flower from the vase and handed it over to you. He didn’t know it at the time, but it just happened to be your favorite. You glanced down at the flower before your eyes trailed up his arm and to his warm face. You couldn’t help but smile at him as you took it from him and immediately sniffed it.

The flower somehow smelled more fragrant than it normally would have, and you attributed that to the fact that it came from Marcus. While you were lost in thought again, Marcus thanked everyone and wished them well before he sat back down in front of you, “Sorry, that usually doesn’t happen much anymore.”

“Marcus Moreno?!” was all that shot out of your mouth. When he gave you a questioning look, you cleared your throat and sat up a little straighter, “You’re Marcus Moreno.”

“Yes…?” it was his turn to furrow his brows. He sat in contemplation for a moment before a smile lit up his face, “You really didn’t realize?”

You felt yourself heat up in embarrassment and your eyes darted down to the table, “No,” your voice was week, “You Clark Kent’d me Marcus!” you quipped in a stronger voice.

That made him burst into laughter, which you joined in after a flustered moment. His smile was unlike anything else you had ever seen before, and the sound of his laughter was something you already knew you wanted to hear every day. There was something about Marcus Moreno that just drew you in completely. Maybe it was his warmth, his kind eyes, or his thoughtful mind. Either way, you found that you already wanted another date with him and this one hadn’t even ended yet.

The two of you fell back into conversation after that and you talked for so long that he got you both refills on your hot chocolates. You tried to pay for this round since he bought the first ones, but he insisted that he would pay. The barista grinned at him as he ordered, but he didn’t even notice. He was too busy looking at you every chance he could.

Marcus just couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, and he couldn’t help the smile that lit up his face whenever he did. He felt like a schoolboy with a crush again, and his heart pounded in his chest whenever your eyes met his. Your energy just drew him in completely and the more he learned about you the more he liked you.

“Traditional hot chocolates this time,” he said with a grin as he sat the mugs down.

“I’m happy with anything Marcus,” you replied sincerely as you wrapped your hands around the warmth.

Conversation flowed again with ease. You talked about your job and your hobbies and asked him about what it was like to be a part of the Heroics. Marcus happily answered your questions, especially since you asked things that no one else did. Your mind definitely intrigued him without a doubt. He was attracted to you physically of course, but your mind was what really drew him in. By the end of the date, Marcus’ cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

“It’s getting late,” you said reluctantly when you noticed that the sun had gone down, “I should get going.”

Marcus stood with you, “Let me walk you to your car.”

“Thanks,” your smile lit up the room as you let him walk you out.

Parking in this part of town was always a pain. You had to park a few blocks away, but Marcus didn’t mind. To him, it was just more time he got to spend with you and unbeknownst to him, you felt the same way. You also found you felt safer with him by your side, and it wasn’t because he was the leader of the Heroics. Marcus already felt the intense need to protect you, so it was a no brainer that he would walk you to your car.

“Well, this is me,” you gestured to your car as you fiddled with the flower in your hand, “I had a nice time, Marcus.”

He bit his lip, “I did too,” he shifted on his feet as he gathered his courage and suddenly felt nervous again, “Can I take you out again? Maybe dinner next time?”

You felt your heart flip in your chest and you thought you almost choked on it, “I’d like that.”

Marcus felt like he could go in every direction at once, but he kept his cool. He shuffled closer to you until your bodies were just inches apart. Your eyes went wide as you froze, but you didn’t move. You were sure he heard how hard your heart pounded in your chest, but if he did he didn’t say anything. He whispered your name and when he saw your eyes glance down to his lips, he made his move.

As much as he wanted to kiss you on your lips, he didn’t want to overstep. Instead, he leaned in and kissed you on your cheek. You closed your eyes and leaned into his touch as you held onto his arm. His mustache tickled your skin, and you giggled softly but made no attempt to move away from him. The warmth and softness of his lips was everything you imagined it to be. You found yourself wanting nothing more than to feel his lips on your own. But at the same time, you liked how he took it slow with you. There was already the promise of another date anyway, and you both couldn’t wait for that day. 

[cacoetheswriting]

lonely this christmas

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Warnings: mild mild cursing, mainly just fluff !!! Word Count: 2.9k Summary: Reader admits to Spencer she will be spending the holidays alone but he’s got other plans.

A/N: starting off the month of december with a christmas centred fic!! hope you like it <3

-

Being alone on Christmas wasn’t unfamiliar to Spencer. In fact it was pretty much the opposite. Being alone on Christmas was typical, ordinary. 

The nature of his job being what it was, he usually ended up working over the holidays anyway. Therefore he never made any plans with his mom because most times he just ended up disappointing her. Being alone at Christmas was fine. Being a disappointment however, completely different story.

As years went by Diana stopped noticing his absence. Of course if Spencer was to visit her at the sanitarium over Christmas she would welcome him with open arms, but he never does. He used to feel incredibly guilty about it, but that too passed with time. 

There was no indication that this year would be any different so he kept his schedule clear. However, the twenty-fifth of December approached fast. Very fast. The closer it got the more it was shaping to be the first holiday season, in a long time, the team would get to spend with their families. And even Spencer found himself considering going home to Nevada; seeing his mom. 

A tab of the airline website was constantly open on his desktop. He checked it regularly; hovering over the option to buy a ticket. 

That’s how you caught him one day. 

You observed from your own desk as Spencer leaned back in his chair, one hand still holding the mouse. The wheels inside his brain clearly turning; evaluating all of the options and possible outcomes.

“Hey, doctor.” You called out grabbing his attention. “If you spend any more time thinking about whether you should go home for Christmas, all the good seats will be gone.” 

He chuckled. “I guess you’re right.” “As always.” You shot him a playful wink as he turned to once again look at his screen. 

“There. Bought.” Spencer exclaimed after a brief moment of silence. “My mom will be happy.” “When was the last time you seen her?” You asked curiously. “It has been more than six months at this stage.” He answered while standing up. 

“Coffee?” He gestured to the empty mug on your desk. You nodded. “You read my mind.” 

The two of you walked towards the kitchenette in the office. It was quite late on a Friday night meaning everyone had cleared out for the weekend. Only the usual suspects remained; Spencer and you.

“When was the last time you were home for Christmas?” “Three years ago. How about you?” Spencer asked, tilting his head slightly to look at you. “Oh, I honestly don’t even remember.” You replied shrugging your shoulders.

“So your family must have been happy to hear you were getting the chance this year to spend the holidays with them.” The brunette doctor switched on the coffee machine and leaned against the wall while you elegantly hopped up onto the counter. 

“Actually, I didn't tell them.” 

Spencer furrowed his eyebrows. “How come?” 

He watched intently as you chewed on your bottom lip - a bad habit you failed miserably to break. In that second of silence you wondered whether you should tell him the truth. He was always so open with you, honest. It would only be fair to repay him with the same sincerity. So you took in a quick breath, and exhaled it quietly before looking up to meet his amiable gaze. 

“My mom and I got into this huge fight a couple of weeks ago. She tried to set me up with this guy because in her eyes it’s unacceptable that I’m single. She doesn't think it’s right that my younger sister is getting married next summer and I haven't had one relationship in my life that lasted longer than a month.” A soft sigh escaped you. “I told her to butt out, using much harsher language than that of course.” Your mouth twirled into a smile; trying to make light of this conversation. Being no stranger to your frequent use of profanity Spencer smirked. 

“We haven't spoken since. She hasn't formally invited me over for the holidays which she always does, even if she knows I won’t be able to make it, and whenever I bring it up with my dad or my siblings they change the topic so.” You shrugged once again while nervously dangling your legs. “It’s easier not to go.” 

Spencer nodded slowly, taking in all of the information you just unloaded. Shaking your head you reached over to grab the coffee pot and poured some into your mug. 

“I’m sorry doctor. I didn’t mean to just lay it all on you like that.” 

He stepped towards you. “Don’t be.” Holding his own cup in front of him, he smiled kindly. “Thank you for telling me.” You began to pour the black hot liquid into his mug; a slight shake to your hand. “Thank you for listening.” “Anytime.”

Spencer placed his full cup on the counter beside you and began to rummage through the cupboards in search for sugar. “Y/N I gotta ask, and obviously if you don't want to answer me you don't have to.” He cleared his throat as you took a sip of your bitter black coffee. “Why didn’t you want to go on a date with the man your mom suggested?” 

Once he successfully located the sugar, he straightened his shirt and plopped two cubes into the hot beverage. He offered you one but you shook your head, taking another sip. 

“I get that it’s not really my place but it just seems a small price to pay for being able to spend Christmas with your loved ones.” 

“If you must know doctor, I prefer to meet people through work. Prison systems and such.” You joked, a wide smile gracing your features. Spencer rolled his eyes. “And how is that going for you?” “Surprisingly well. I have a date shortly after we’re back from the Christmas break.” He arched his brow and smiled at you; playing along as you continued. “Solid guy. Only murdered five people.”

You beamed at the brunette doctor who was grinning back. “Maybe I should consider adding prisons to my dating pool.” You let out an over-exaggerated  gasp and placed your free hand over your chest. “Is doctor Spencer Reid really on the market?” 

Spencer shook his head. His light curls bouncing finely, matching his every move. He lowered his lips to the brim of his mug and took a sip of his coffee before focusing on you. “No, but for the right girl I’d consider it.” 

Without thinking you raised your free arm and adjusted his tie. Flattening down the edge of his collar, you could feel his eyes on you. Yet for some reason you were suddenly afraid to look up and meet his gaze. Strange. Or maybe not so strange.

“Lucky girl.” You said in a mere whisper. Letting your hand fall, you stepped off the counter with a light bounce. Spencer cleared his throat and the two of you walked back to your seats. 

The next few hours were spent working in silence. You tried to focus on the mountain of paperwork on your desk, yet instead found yourself glancing at the young doctor every other second - secretly hoping he would also be peeking up at you. And he was. Just not when you were looking at him.

“Y/N if you want you can come with me to Nevada, spend Christmas with me and my mom. ” Spencer proposed out of the blue. He got up out of his chair and grabbed his jacket, slowly putting it on. You smiled at him. “Thank you doctor but I will honestly be okay alone.” Pause. “Plus, I wouldn't want to interfere.” 

He was about to protest, say you wouldn't be interrupting, but he bit his tongue. He didn't want to seem pushy. “If you change your mind, let me know.” He reached for his bag and threw the strap over his head. “Just do it quickly or all the good seats will be gone.” He teased. You giggled. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind. ” 

The brunette agent hesitated. He swayed on his heel for a moment before approaching your desk. “Can I give you a ride home?” He asked, eyes locking with yours. “There’s still a couple of things I want to get done but thank you for the kind offer.” Spencer nodded. A faint look of disappointment appeared on his face. “Goodnight Y/N.” “Goodnight doctor.” 

Christmas was upon you in the blink of an eye. On the last day before break the team exchanged Secret Santa presents before enjoying a pizza party. This year you had Penelope who squealed over her gift as everyone watched in amusement; you included. Resting against the wall, you observed as the blonde jumped around the room with joy. Her smile made you smile. 

“Good job on Penelope’s gift.” Spencer appeared beside you holding two plastic cups filled to the brim with eggnog. He handed you one before making himself comfortable next to you, his arm pressed gently to yours. “I don’t know what you're talking about doctor.” You responded, tilting your head slightly to look at him. 

“I like your Christmas sweater.” A small smile circled your lips as you reached out to flick the little bell sown onto the top of the Santas hat on his jumper. Spencer chuckled. “Thank you. You know, I really couldn't decide between this or the one with the Home Alone reference.” “Ah, the trusted Merry Christmas Ya Filthy Animal sweater.” “That would be the one, yes.” The two of you beamed at each other. 

“I’m surprised you know what Home Alone is doctor.” You teased, nudging him playfully in the arm. Spencer laughed. “If I’m being honest, I was more intrigued by the booby traps than the plot of the movie.” He retorted as you sipped on the eggnog; slightly rolling your eyes at his response. “Of course you were. Don’t tell me you tested them out too?” 

He averted his gaze without responding, clearly a little embarrassed. “Well...” 

You couldn't help but giggle. Slowly, you leaned in towards him so that your lips were now at his ear. The brunette agent shivered as your hot breath hit his skin, however he didn't move away. 

“Don’t worry doctor, I did too.” You whispered. 

Instantly, he turned to look at you once again. His face was now inches away from yours, and as he stared oddly into your eyes the air caught in your throat. The two of you hovered right there for a moment, not moving and quite soundless, simply feeling each other's presence - as if there was no-one else in the room, no party. 

Eventually you broke the eye contact and took a step to your right, moving away from him. Suddenly feeling timid, you took another sip of your beverage while your free hand ran through your hair. Spencer also looked away. His mind racing a million miles per hour; he should have kissed you, right? No. Not in front of all these people, your colleagues. That would be bad. Unprofessional. Would you have even wanted him to kiss you? Did you like him like that? He hoped you did.

The party soon drew to a close. You were lost in conversation with Emily while Spencer was trying to teach Morgan and Rossi some card tricks. Your gaze kept averting in the direction of the young doctor every once in a while; Emily of course noticed. “Tell me again why you’re not going to Nevada with our resident genius?” A puzzled look now present on your face. “How did you-” 

“Reid told Morgan who told Garcia who told me.” She interrupted. You laughed at the ridiculousness of what she just came out of her mouth. “It’s like I’m in high school all over again.” She laughed under her breath.

There was a brief moment of silence.

“So, why aren’t you going?” Emily pried. A quiet sigh escaped your lips. “Like I told him, I don’t want to interfere.” She rolled her eyes; not buying into your bullshit. “He wouldn't have invited you-” “Fuck, please I don’t want-” She raised her hands in front of her. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry.” 

Glancing at the time, you excused yourself wishing Emily a wonderful and happy Christmas. Quickly and quietly, you headed to your desk and put on your winter coat. As you grabbed your handbag you turned to face the remaining partygoers: “Happy holidays everyone!”. Your eyes briefly locked with Spencers who shot you a shy smile as you mouthed ‘Merry Christmas doctor.’ before hurrying out the door. 

Two days later it was the twenty-fifth of December. You woke up on your couch, having fallen asleep during Christmas movie marathon, to the sound of your phone ringing. 

Yawning, you reached for the device. Spencer. Answering, you pressed it to your ear and croaked; “Hello.”. 

“I hope I didn't wake you.” “You did actually.” You responded yawning once again and gradually scrambling to your feet. You ambled towards the kitchen, straight for the coffee maker. “But I could never be mad at you doctor.” “I’m glad to hear that.” 

There was a short pause.

“How are you?” He asked, his voice kind. “I’m okay, no need to worry about me. Shit-” “Y/N?”

“Sorry. I just realised I’m out of coffee grounds.”

Spencer chuckled on the other line. “It’s not funny doctor. I’ve no coffee and everything is closed because it’s Christmas.” “You could always switch to tea for the day.” Rolling your eyes, you smirked. “Right, because I’m such an avid tea drinker.” 

There was another short pause.

“How was your flight? How’s Nevada? How’s your mom?” You asked changing the topic, making conversation. The young doctor didn't respond. “Hey, are you there?” The line cut-off. Weird.

‘He’ll call back later.’, you thought and headed for your bathroom.

An hour later you were showered and dressed. You switched on the lights on your poorly decorated Christmas tree and were about to make yourself comfortable on the sofa when a knock on the door caught your attention. You scurried over, without looking through the peephole to see who it was, you opened it.

“Spencer.” 

“Merry Christmas Y/N.” 

The brunette doctor smiled as you furrowed your brows. “What are you doing here? I thought you were in Nevada.”

“I was. I got back early this morning.” 

He waited for you to invite him in before shimmying passed. He set down two tote bags on the kitchen counter before turning to look at you once again. Lost for words, you locked the door and approached the young doctor. Slowly you peeked inside the bags. “Supplies.” He simply stated while taking off his coat. 

“You didn’t really think I’d let you spend Christmas alone, did you?” 

Your heart skipped a beat. “You didn't have to do this doctor.” “I know.” He shrugged before reaching into one of the bags and unpacking the items. “I wanted to.” He held up a bag of coffee grounds and you couldn't help but giggle delicately. 

“Thank you.” Your fingers brushed his as you grabbed the bag sending a shiver down your spine. Spencer froze feeling the sensation too. Nervously, he let his hand fall but the half-smile on his face remained. 

“Where did you get this stuff anyway?” You asked as you walked around to the coffee machine. “I packed what I had at home.” Nodding, you began to prepare two cups. As the appliance whirred, you turned in your spot. “What about your mom? Wouldn't she have wanted to spend Christmas Day with you?” 

Spencer continued to unpack the bags, neatly placing each item on the counter in front of him. “We spent all of yesterday together.” Pause. “And besides, she’s the one that urged me to come here.” He peered up at you, resting his palms down on the kitchen counter. The second his hazel eyes locked with yours, the flush of your cheeks turned a slender pink. 

Not really thinking you ushered back towards him. The brunette doctor watched you attentively. Gently, you placed one hand on top of his and gave it a tender squeeze. “Lucky me.” You whispered staring deep into his eyes. 

Spencers smile spread wider in unison with yours. After a few seconds of pure comfortable silence, he cleared his throat. “Do you think your prisoner boyfriend would mind if I asked you out on a date?” A faint giggle escaped your lips as the shade of your jowl turned from pink to bright red. “Even if he does-” You took another step towards Spencer, closing the space between you. “-I think you could handle him.” 

Spencer chuckled. Using his free hand, he placed a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. His thumb stroked your cheek in the process and you angled into his pleasant touch. 

“Thank you for being here.” You muttered, unintentionally chewing on your bottom lip. 

He cupped your face as his gaze moved briefly down to your mouth before once again locking with yours. “Thank you for having me.” His voice soothing, not quite matching the fervour in his eyes. 

In the space of a single heartbeat, he leaned down and his lips crushed against yours passionately. You let go of his hand and placed both your palms on his chest; tugging lightly at his shirt to try and pull him in even closer. Spencer did not waste a second, his now free arm moved elegantly around your waist.

The two of you pulled away breathlessly. He gently pressed his forehead to yours as you smiled. “Merry Christmas doctor.” “Merry Christmas Y/N.”

-

masterlist

[castthy-nightedcolour]

One- Shot: A Different Side (written as part of my series ‘don’t worry about a thing’ on AO3, link can be found at the bottom of the post as it won’t let me embed it)

Fandom: Good Omens

Characters: GN Reader, Crowley, a very annoying mouse

Warnings and Tags: snakes, animal death/ harm, swearing, uh oh we have a pest control problem, snake crowley, comfort , are they aren’t they

Summary: mouse traps, a skip full of rubbish and a broken down bus. not exactly your dream day, but your favourite demonic entity has a trick up his sleeve and behind his glasses to help you.

Word Count: 2778

Link to original: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31055930/chapters/81050182

If there was one word to describe your mood, that word would be vile. Tiny little irritants throughout the day had built to a simmering anger:

-Firstly, your bus into town had broken down about ten minutes away from your stop, meaning that you were forced to trek your way to the shops.

-Secondly, your trip to said shops wasn’t for any kind of retail therapy, but was instead to buy mouse traps. Your usually serene flat had been taken over by a little grey rodent who despite any humane efforts, was refusing to leave. You weren’t usually one for violence towards any living thing, but the little shit was out staying its welcome and had most recently been seen taking a bite out of a loaf of bread.

-When you did eventually get into town, it seemed to be the day for the world’s slowest walkers to take to the streets. Everyone was moving at about two steps per minute and you, being naturally speedy, were constantly waiting for gaps on the pavement to overtake. When you did manage to do this, there would be a whole new couple walking side by side, plodding along at a snail’s pace. You weren’t getting anywhere quick.

All in all, not your finest hour. This all came to a head on Oxford Street, or as you liked to call it, hell.

Your brain felt as though it were made of jelly, your temperature was rising, and someone stopped right in the middle of the street to check their phone. Slamming right into the back of them, you immediately let out something resembling a howl before running to your side off down Old Cavendish Street, somewhere slightly quieter. You leaned against the nearest wall, hot anger bubbling within you for what at the time, seemed like a life or death scenario of you getting out of town with the mousetraps, but in retrospect was just the culmination of various shitty things.

The last thing which you wanted to hear was any sign that you were being perceived, but a teenage boy riding past you on a bike shouting an obnoxious ‘WAHEYYYY’ at you was enough to tip you over the edge. You bashed your head back on the wall, feeling acid tears of anger falling, pedalled down your face by your short temper. Then, another shout came towards you from across the street.

‘Y/N? Is that you?’

You were ready to push yourself off the wall to lunge at this person until your brain caught up with recognition. Tilting your head forwards, your suspicions were confirmed when you saw floppy, ginger hair bouncing over the street atop a leather-clad frame. The sunglasses perched on his nose brought you a feeling somewhere between relief and fear.

You and Crowley had a relationship which can only be described as ‘are they? Aren’t they?’

You sure as hell couldn’t tell if he had any romantic feelings for you, and he gave off vibes so mixed that they were jumbled by this point. People always commented on the electricity between the two of you whenever you were together, but you tried not to get your hopes up and usually just put this down to his magnetising nature.

He’d told you about himself, and you thought that he must have trusted you somewhat to be able to disclose that he was a demon to you.

Then again, maybe he was just overly confident.

In the state you were currently in, you couldn’t decide whether to run into his arms to scream, or run as quickly away from him as was physically possible.

Your body chose neither and just stood there, open mouthed and gawking as the tears continued to fall with no effort from your eyelids. Crowley examined you, peering over the top of his sunglasses to try and decipher the scene before him.

‘Don’t tell me someone’s upset you, because I will find them for you, Y/N’ he started, rearing himself up as he spoke. You jumped in.

‘No, no. Not upset. I swear. Just… pissed off. Massively, massively pissed off. Short fuse today, y’see.’

‘Oh. Well, I know all about that. I’m quick to anger at any given moment but then again, ‘s in my nature. What exactly are you doing down here?’

You looked to your side at the gigantic skip full of building waste, then down to your feet where someone’s puke sat. You looked back up to the demon.

‘It was a quick escape, one that was made before I slapped someone in the face.’

Crowley looked slightly taken aback, not expecting any expression of violence from you considering your usually placid nature.

‘Ooookay. Well, I won’t ask for details but, here.’ He leaned over slightly and brushed away some of the tears which were still running down your face. You could swear that you both stopped breathing for a moment as he touched you but then again, you weren’t in a fit state for rational thinking.

‘Thank you,’ you breathed out. ‘I’m all good, I promise. Just need to breathe.’ You gave a reassuring smile to the demon and noticed him looking down to your hand, holding a flimsy plastic bag containing the mouse traps.

‘What you got there? Looks interesting.’ He said, tilting his head to try and get a closer look. You brought the bag up to your chest.

‘Oh, mouse traps. There’s a little shit thinking that he owns my flat who’s probably currently in my bread bin. Thought I’d stop the problem while I could, considering there’s that saying about seeing mice. Y’know, for every mouse you see, there’s always another one somewhere. Can’t wait to clean that up!’ Your words had somewhat of a bite, being spat like venom.

‘Woah. You really are pissed, aren’t you?’ Crowley responded, half smirking. For some reason, this set you off again.

‘Yes. Yes, actually I am. Because y’know what? This day has been fucking horrific! I genuinely don’t think that I’ve had two consecutive minutes of peace since the second I woke up. I can’t relax because of the mouse, then there was the bus, and the walking, and the pain in my feet, and the twat who decided to check his phone in the middle of Oxford Street. Sorry, who the hell does that? I just feel like I’ve been left out of any plans that the universe had to let people go about their day without a care in the world. So yes, I’m fuming.’ You gave a huff before realising that you were now crying again. Crowley stood slightly dumbstruck, shifting his weight between his feet. You glanced off to the side, watching the shoppers propel themselves down Oxford Street.

The demon then spoke, his voice low and sincere.

‘Can I give you a lift?’

—

After what felt like a windswept journey in the Bentley, Crowley screeched to a halt outside your flat. Jolting forwards slightly, the plastic bag containing the mouse traps crinkled between your legs.

You’d calmed down quite significantly, but now felt a combination of complete embarrassment that you’d had such an outburst in front of the being that you completely adored, and absolute excitement that he’d even offered you a lift. This wasn’t helped when you heard him say,

‘Let me walk you upstairs. Check that you’re okay.’

You felt fizzy, and as the two of you trudged up to your flat, you felt as though you could lift off any second. As you unlocked your front door, Crowley leaned on the doorframe, peering in to the hallway as you threw your bag on the floor. You suddenly regretted this as when the bag hit the floor, there was a scuttle from under your bedroom door, and the little mouse took one giant sprint off towards the kitchen. You screamed in shock as the little bastard took itself away, and Crowley grabbed onto your arm. This made you jump for a second time.

‘Woah woah there, calm down. It’s just a little mouse, we’ll sort this,’ Crowley sweetly spoke, lulling your heart back to a slightly normal rate. You looked down to his arm resting on yours and couldn’t help but smile slightly.

Crowley had a look on his face which would have read from ten miles away as one with a scheme brewing.

‘Look Y/N, I’m going to do something here which I don’t do very often, and all I’m asking is that you don’t freak out,’ the demon announced.

You couldn’t help but make a sarcastic joke.

‘What’s that then, the housework?’ Smirking, you looked up at Crowley who glared at you through his sunglasses.

‘Fine, you don’t need my help!’ He huffed, obviously taking the piss but you couldn’t help but tease him back into good spirits.

‘No no, sorry Crowley. What have you got for me?’

‘Snake.’

You stood there for a second, trying to make any sense of what he just said and burning up slightly as you wondered if this was perhaps his way of flirting.

‘A… a snake? You have a snake?’

‘Yes. Well, no. Well… yes. Look it’s complicated, can I just show you?’

Uh oh. Maybe this was him flirting.

You thought for a second before hearing an almighty crash from the kitchen, and from down the hallway you saw an entire loaf of bread fall to the ground, followed by a small army of mice. Again, you let out a scream as Crowley slammed the door shut behind the both of you.

‘How fucking many are there now?!’ You exclaimed, turning to face Crowley who was now quickly shifting between his feet. He suddenly grabbed your shoulders.

‘Look Y/N, tell me quick, do you have a phobia?’

‘Of mice? I think that’s pretty evident Crow-‘

‘No, of snakes. Are you scared of snakes?’

‘What is it with you and these snakes?’ You laughed. The demon then stood dead still and stared right at you.

‘Stay still. Don’t freak out please. I promise this will help.’

Before you knew it, Crowley’s hands had disappeared off your shoulders and he seemed to disappear entirely from before you. Confused, you looked down at the floor.

What you saw took your breath away for what felt like forever.

Rows and rows of black scales suddenly lined your hallway, flowing from side to side as the form made its way towards the kitchen. This didn’t take long, considering the snake’s body seemed to run on forever, there must have been at least 10 metres of the creature occupying your apartment.

You’d never really considered Crowley’s powers before. While you were aware that he was a demon, this thought didn’t control your every interaction with him. He was just Crowley- your friend Crowley- your possibly more than a friend Crowley- your Crowley. Shapeshifting had never been part of the picture.

But it was so, so beautiful.

Moving.

And snakes were never your favourite but this was just something else.

Squeals of mouse terror came from the kitchen as a massive shadow rose up throughout the whole apartment. Crowley was sitting up on his body, his head pointed towards any mouse that he could detect and a razor sharp stare in his luminescent eyes.

Your favourite part of this whole scenario was laying on the floor in front of you- Crowley’s sunglasses, sans Crowley for the first time ever. You smiled as you bent down to pick them up, your feet planted to the spot due to the inherently overwhelming nature of what was happening. You ran your fingers over the frames feeling the heat that was stored in them.

There was something so human about the lingering warmth to the metal, but that thing that made it so distinctively Crowley was the fact that the heat never seemed to fade.

The floor seemed to move as the scales once again shifted, with Crowley turning round to come back towards you. Cold fear seized your entire body, despite the oddly comforting and protective energy of this gigantic creature. His yellow eyes were right in front of your face before you’d even managed to properly react to him moving towards you.

You blinked and the Crowley that you knew and … ahem… was standing in front you, a live mouse swinging from his hand by the tail.

‘Consider those rodents dispatched.’

The mouse in his hand was thrashing wildly from side to side and while you hated the little shits, you couldn’t help but feel sorry for it. You went to protest but no words came out of your mouth.

You’d just witnessed something- something that couldn’t exactly be described as a miracle but to you- maybe?

Crowley noticed the panic in your eyes directed towards the mouse and realised what he needed to do. The mouse disappeared in another of your blinks.

There were so many pressing questions on your mind, but you only managed to actually articulate one of them.

‘Please tell me you didn’t eat those mice, Crowley?’ Your tone was somewhere between intrigue and massive concern.

The demon scoffed, ‘I prefer oysters normally, Y/N. No, I didn’t eat them. I can assure you though, they won’t be back any time soon.’

Palpable silence hung between the two of you. You naturally seemed to hold out Crowley’s sunglasses to him, staring directly into the eyes which served as a reminder of his other form as you did so.

Crowley went to slowly take the glasses off you, but in a snap decision, you snatched them back. Crowley wasn’t exactly thrilled by this.

‘Hey, don’t play games with those. They’re my-‘

He didn’t stand a chance of finishing his sentence before you jumped in, with your subconscious mind taking a grasp on your mouth. Maybe this was a trick of Crowley’s, but at least some of it came from your heart.

‘Do it again. Turn back.’

The two of you stared at each other as a smirk took over the demon’s face.

‘Really? It seemed to terrify you, dearest.’

The cockiness in his voice only persuaded you to carry on pushing.

‘Not at all! No no, it was just... well it was a shock at first. Obviously. Like who the hell else can do that? But no, not terror. It’s intrigue. I swear.’

You made sure to assert yourself in your voice as your brain convinced you that you would never rest again unless Crowley turned back into a snake. It was almost like the sheer shock had morphed into utter obsession in a matter of seconds.

And maybe you just adored every part of Crowley and him being vulnerable in showing a new side to you? Well...

Again, you blinked and he was gone for a moment, before the black reptile rose up to meet your gaze. He hadn’t continued to question you.

The presence was unexplainable, physically so big in the space but even just the idea of him just seemed to fill up every corner of the place. Moving the sunglasses into your right hand, you tentatively raised up your left.

‘Can... may I? Can I touch?’ You softly asked, mimicking a petting action in the air. Somehow, Crowley let you know that it was okay, pulling your hand towards him with some kind of magnetising energy.

Your fingers lightly brushed the scales on his head and you took a breath so deep you almost triggered hiccups. The texture was confusing, it almost seemed like it was shifting forms by the second- smooth then rough, hard then feather soft, but still always cool as marble. You fully rested your hand down as you glanced along the entire body, once again filling up the entire hallway.

‘Crowley, this is beautiful. I mean that.’ You whispered, transfixed on what you were seeing.

Then, the unimaginable happened. Your hand which had ended up resting on the snake’s head suddenly felt warm.

Was... was he blushing? You decided to test the water slightly more.

‘I didn’t even imagine that anything could be so magnificent but, well. Here you are. So gorgeous.’

Sure enough, another flush felt through your hand.

‘Crowley, are you blushing?’ You giggled. The heat on his face then took another rise, this time enough to hurt you slightly. You drew your hand away instinctually, but with a smile still on your face.

This was now a day worth noting. The day that started with a mouse in a bread bin and some unfortunately placed anger, and ended as the day that you made a snake blush.

And of course, he made you blush too.

A new side of Crowley. One that you couldn’t help but adore.

[waitimcomingtoo]

Imaginary Friends 2

Part One

Pairing: dad!Tom Holland x Reader

Masterlist

“I’ll get your seat.” Tom cleared his throat awkwardly before pulling your seat out for you. He was forgetting how to act like a regularly functioning human being and found himself having no idea where to put his hands. He stuffed them in and out of his pockets about a hundred times before you even sat down. Since it was your job to be observant, you noticed his timid demeanor and gave him a warm smile to relax him.

“Oh, thank you.” You chuckled shyly as you sat in the seat.

“No problem, m’lady.” He bowed slightly then shut his eyes in embarrassment. “I’m sorry I said that.”

“It’s alright.” You chuckled again and he let out a breath of relief as he took his seat. His mind went blank as he stared at you in your black cocktail dress, suddenly forgetting every talking point he had ever picked up. Awkward silence filled the space between you and Tom began to panic.

“This place seems really nice.” You spoke up and his heart race went back to normal. You smiled to yourself when you saw the color return to his face.

“Yeah. My family comes here whenever I wrap a movie and come home.” He told you, impressive himself with the easy conversation he was keeping. He stopped fumbling with his hands and let them rest on his lap. Your eyebrows raised when he told you the tidbit and you blushed a little.

“So this is a special place to you?” You asked with a coy smile, reading heavily into the fact he brought you somewhere that had meaning to him.

“Well this is a special occasion.” He shrugged and raised his glass of water. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and you clinked you’re glass against him.

“I’m glad we’re doing this.” You said once you set your glass down. Tom smiled widely and nodded.

“Me too.”

The waiter came by to drop a bucket off ice off at the table and told you both he’d be back shortly for your orders.

“Oo, ice.” You took the lid off the bucket and grabbed an ice cube.

“What are you doing?” Tom wondered as you put the ice cube down in the table.

“Hang on.” You smiled deviously at Tom and began to rummage through your bag. Tom watched you curiously as you took your gun out of your bag and smashed the butt of it against the ice cube. Pieces of ice went everywhere as you and Tom leaned forward on the table as silent laughter escaped your lips. Tom looked around to check if anyone saw with his hand clamped over his mouth as you put your gun away. Your body shook as you laughed, brushing small crumbs of ice off the table.

“Why did you do that?” He asked between bursts of laughter.

“To break the ice.” You said like it was obvious before laughing again.

“With your gun?” He whispered harshly, wiping a tear from his eye. He could not believe you had done what you did. He didn’t even care about the people staring. He was already having the most fun he’d had in a long time.

“If this restaurant had outdoor seating, I would’ve shot it.” You leaned forward to whisper and he broke into another fit of laughter at your boldness, even if you were kidding.

“So you’re trying to kill me?” He teased you.

“I’ll have you know, Mr. Hollywood actor, that I have the best shot on my team.” You said smugly as you took a sip of your water.

“I’m impressed.”

“I am too. I stalked you on the Internet after we met and you’re actually really talented.” You said with surprise and Tom couldn’t help but laugh. “That one clip of the superhero movie where you’re like turning into ashes so was sad.”

“Oh My God, I stalked you too.” He admitted, getting excited now with his fearless date. “And it was dust, darling. I turned to dust.”

“Ew, did you see my FBI induction ceremony?” You grimaced.

“The one with your hair sticking up? No I don’t think so.” He said sarcastically and you groaned.

“That’s so embarrassing. I hate that picture.” You whined. “My hair was everywhere. No one told me I looked like the ginger from the Rugrats.”

“Chuckie?”

“No, not the doll.” You shook your head. “The cartoon baby with the big teeth.”

“His name is Chuckie.” Tom chuckled and your eyes widened.

“Wait really?” You asked. “Why does Hollywood make gingers so scary looking?”

“I have no idea. You’ll have to ask the ginger consultants up in LA.” Tom joked.

“Do they really have that?” You looked amazed and it almost broke Tom’s heart to tell you he was kidding.

“No.” He laughed. “You think they have people for that?”

“Well I don’t know!” You defended. “I saw an interview where you said you had a dialect coach. That means it’s someone’s job to teach you how to speak. Your American accent is pretty good by the way.”

“Just pretty good?” He raised an eyebrow.

“You don’t unlock genuine compliments until the second date.” You said simply.

“Unlock? Like a video game.” Tom questioned you with a smile. It gave him confidence that you were already planning on a second date.

“No. It’s obviously like a quest.” You rolled your eyes playfully.

“Oh, a quest huh?” He challenged. “What’s the prize at the end?”

“My undying love, duh.” You shook your head as if he asked a stupid question. Tom stares at you for a moment, just taking you in as a dopey smile crossed his face.

“Y/n, you might be the most interesting persons I ever met.” He said sincerely as he raised his glass again.

“Well I met a man who had a fetish for baby teeth and I arrested him in front of his mother so, cheers.” You deadpanned as you clicked your glass against his.

“Oh my God.” He laughed and took a long sip. It was gonna be a long night, and he couldn’t wait to see what was gonna happen next.

~

“Tom?” You called weakly as you opened his front door. You dropped your to go bag on the ground and it landed with a heavy thud. You let your eyes drift around his living room, having missed it after being away for two weeks.

“You’re home!” Tom came out of the kitchen and set the towel he was using to dry his hands down on the counter. He made his way to you and pulled you into a long kiss. “I missed you, love. I just put Spencer down but I can wake him up if you want to see him.”

“No, no. It’s okay. Let him sleep.” You nodded and winced as a pain shot through your side. You hunched over a little and gripped your side, taking a deep breath to try and minimize the pain.

“Woah, love, are you okay?” Toms voice was filled with worry as he tried to steady you. He helped you over to the couch and you painfully sat down.

“I need to tell you something.” You looked him in the eyes as your clutched your side. “Don’t be mad.”

“Okay.” He nodded curtly, already growing worried about what it could be.

“I got shot.” You grimaced and Toms eyes widened.

“YOU GOT SHOT?!” Tom screamed and you quickly shushed him, not wanting to wake up Spencer.

“I said don’t be mad!” You whispered harshly.

“I’m not mad I’m just reacting loudly.” He whispered back. “You got shot?!”

You pulled up the side of your loose Cotten shirt to reveal a thick white bandage taped to your ribs.

“Happy anniversary?” You smiled weakly.

“Oh my god, what happened?” Tom asked as he tentatively touched your bandage. Small splotches of blood were begins to show through. Tom ran time the kitchen and got you ibuprofen and a glass of water as quickly as he could.

“Apparently child abductors don’t like it when you take their abducted children away. Wish I knew that earlier.” You rolled your eyes sarcastically as you popped the pills into your mouth.

“Is now the time for jokes? You have a bullet hole!” He said angrily as he handed you the cup of water. He didn’t want to yell, but he had never felt so panicked. Bullet holes were plot points in his movies, not something he’d ever thought his girlfriend would come home with.

“Y/n has a bullet hole?” Spencer appeared in the door and stared at you with a gapping mouth. He clutched his teddy bear out of fear and you felt your heart melt.

“It’s okay, Spence.” You assured him and quickly fixed your shirt. “Go back to bed. I’m fine.”

“Did the bad guys hurt you?” He ignored your order as he walked over to you.

“Yeah, they got me this time buddy.” You cupped his chin to comfort him. “But my team arrested him so you don’t have to worry.”

“This is insane. I’m gonna call the police.” Tom shook his head and pulled out his phone.

“I am the police.” You chuckled as you lowered his phone. “And I already saw a medic. It’s just a graze. I’m totally fine.”

“You’re bleeding!” Tom reminded you in a whisper so Spencer wouldn’t hear.

“I’m bleeding as well as being totally fine.” You bopped his nose and he relaxed a little.

“Will teddy make your feel better? He helps me when I’m sick.” Spencer asked hopefully as he held his teddy bear out to you. You gratefully accepted the bear and held him to your chest.

“I feel better already. Thanks, Spence.” You ruffled his hair with your free hand.

“Come on, buddy. You shouldn’t be in here.” Tom took Spencers hand and began to lead him back to his bed.

“Is mommy gonna be okay?” Spencer asked, making your ears turn pink.

“She’s gonna be fine. Come on. I’ll make you some ice cream in the kitchen.” Tom knew his son wouldn’t be getting to bed anytime soon, so he brought him to the kitchen to distract him with some ice cream. He scooped some into a bowl for Spencer before returning to you.

“I’m sorry. This is not what I had in mind for our 1 year anniversary.” You smiled apologetically as you took Toms hand. Tom let out a breath and kissed your knuckles. He couldn’t be mad at you, even if he wanted to. He was just glad you were alright.

“Well the restaurant I was gonna take you to is super cold inside so this works for me.” He joked with a breathy chuckle. He sat next to you on the couch and pulled you into his side. You sat in silence for a moment as he stroked your hair. Guilt began to bubble in your tummy as your thoughts piled in.

“Spencer called me mommy.” You said after a beat of silence. Tom has caught that too but let it slip his mind given your current situation.

“I’m sorry. I’ll tell him not to do that again.” Tom said softly. You had never discussed it, so he assumed you weren’t comfortable with that yet. Tom would love for you to one day be Spencers mother, but you’d only been dating a year. He understood if you weren’t ready for that title. He just didn’t know how he was supposed to tell his son that the woman who ate dinner with them every night, sent him postcards when she was away, and sometimes made him breakfast wasn’t his mother.

Your thoughts were completely different than Toms. You were both thinking of the future, but not in the same way. A lump formed in your throat as hot tears brimmed in your eyes.

“Tom?” You gulped, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Yes, love?” He looked down at you with worry.

“I don’t think we should see each other anymore.” You kept your eyes straight ahead and let your statement hang in the air for a moment. Tom stopped stroking your hair and his entire body stilled.

“What? Why?” He sat up and looked at you with desperate confusion. I thought we really connected. I thought…I thought we were in love.” He said quietly.

“We did. And we are.” You cupped his face, trying to comfort him in the way that always worked with Spencer. “But Tom, your son had one mother walk out on him already. If you and I continue this serious relationship and I don’t come home one day, what’s that going to do to him? What’s that going to do to you?”

“I don’t - I don’t know.” Tom was speechless as he thought about what you said.

“The bullet grazed me this time. I might not get as lucky next time.” You shrugged as a tear slipped out. “I’ve seen the most capable agents get hurt in the field. I go to work every day and I never know if I’ll make it home. That’s hard for me to deal with. Do you really want to deal with that too?”

Tom was quiet as silent tears fell down his face. He didn’t trust his voice enough to speak, not that he had the words anyway. The only sounds heard were the scripted of Spencers spoon against his bowl in the kitchen. You observed Tom’s silence and stroked his cheek.

“I really love you, Tom. And I love Spencer.” You said quietly. “But I don’t want to come into your lives when I know I can be taken out of it at any moment. You both deserve better.”

“Maybe we do.” He shrugged, suddenly finding his voice. “But I could go for a walk tomorrow and get struck by lighting. You could go face to face with the most dangerous Unsub in FBI history and die in a car crash on your way home. And Spencer drank your shampoo yesterday because he wanted his organs to smell like strawberries.” Tom listed and you let out a tired laugh. “Nobody knows what the future holds. No one is promised a tomorrow. I understand your concerns and I know the risks but I just,” Tom shrugged, “I don’t care. I don’t care if your job is dangerous. Mine is too. My suit Doenst have a zipper. I barely get to pee.”

You laughed again and wiped your face on the back of your hand.

“That’s not good for your kidneys.” You said pointedly.

“It’s not. So maybe a kidney infection will kill me.” He shrugged again. “Or maybe you’ll drop your curling iron in the bathtub and get electrocuted.”

“How much do you know about death?” You questioned his unconventional examples.

“Not much. And I don’t know much about love either.” He admitted. “But I do know that as long as I get to spend today with you, I don’t care about tomorrow. Every second I get with you is worth it to me. But if you still want to stop seeing each other, I’ll respect that. I’ll make sure I never get my mail at the same time as you so we don’t have to make awkward eye contact and do that tight smile white people make.”

“I don’t want to stop.” You teared up again. “And I never want to make awkward eye contact at the mailbox.”

“I have a solution for that.” Tom said and you raised your eyebrows. “Move in. Then we’ll share a mailbox.”

A smile tugged at your lips at his proposal and you rubbed his knee.

“Let me think about it.” You told him.

“Take all the time you-“

“Yes.” You cut him off. “My answer is yes.”

Tom broke out into a smile and pulled you into a long kiss.

“I love you. So, so much.” He whispered against your lips.

“I love you too.” You answered.

“Daddy, I finished my ice cream.” Spencer came back into the living room with chocolate on his chin.

“Come here, Spence.” Tom opened his arms and Spencer climbed onto his lap. “How would you feel about Y/n moving forward in here and living with us?

“Really? Like a permanent sleepover?” Spencer looked at you with excitement as you wiped his chin clean with a wipe.

“Yeah, honey. Like a permanent sleepover.” You nodded with a smile.

“Yay! I love you.” Spencer three his arms around your neck and hugged you tightly. You laughed and hugged him back, rubbing soft circles on his back.

“I love you too, Spence.” You told him. “But you have to get to bed. Teddy is exhausted.”

“Come on, buddy. I’ll tuck you in again.” Tom offered.

“Can mommy tuck me in this time?” Spencer asked hopefully and you and Tom shared a look.

“Uh, about that-“ Tom began.

“Yes.” You cut him off and scooped Spencer up. “Mommy will tuck you in.”

Tag List 🏷

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[fangirlovestuff]

Family - Frank Adler x reader

a/n- Hey lovely people! this is my second entry for the shameless hoes for chris challenge, so i’d like to say a very happy birthday (and belated birthday) to the lovely @stargazingfangirl18​ & @navybrat817​ who are hosting this challenge! thank you for sharing your kindness, talent, and shameless hoe thoughts with us through this challenge and every day, i hope you both had great days! here’s this Frank one shot as a gift! also, disclamer: i know nothing about boats. thoughts are in italics, prompt is in bold. Enjoy! <3

Summary: You move into a new town in search of a new job, and you meet a very handsome man and his cute niece. Or more accurately, their cat finds you.

Word count: ~3,550

Prompts:  Oops I caught feelings for you and I got ‘em baddd. &  “Oh god, did I say that out loud?”

Warnings: SMUT, explicit sexual content, explicit language. please do not read if you are uncomfortable with any of the above!

You opened the curtains of the small window, squinting a little as the morning sun hit your sleep-deprived eyes. It was the first night you spent in your new little house by the docks, and you'd always had a bit of a hard time sleeping in new places. 

You sighed and rubbed your eyes, getting the coffee started. You had another week until you had to work, giving you enough time to get to know your new surroundings and fix your sleep schedule before you took over at the local library. The pay wasn't too high but you needed a job while you were working on your novel, and what better than being surrounded by books?

You moved here to clear your head a little, feeling a change of scenery might be what you needed to write your story. What your parents and relatives referred to as your "little passion project" was in fact something you were willing to work hard to achieve. Being a published author was your goal, not a mere daydream. 

You sipped the warm coffee from your mug, looking out of the window at the quiet neighborhood. You startled at the sight of an orange cat appearing, out of nowhere, chased by a little girl who seemed to be around ten or eleven years old. You chuckled into your mug before seeing the girl stumble and fall. You put down your mug to rush to her aid, but before you could leave your doorstep, a man was already kneeling next to her. Maybe her dad, even though he seemed a little young for that.

You turned in search of the elusive cat, and found him in some bushes, licking his paws. You got closer and realized the ginger cat only had one eye. You cooed at the cat, beckoning him over, and to your surprise he listened, coming out of the bushes. You pet him a little and he willingly purred at your touch. You smiled before hesitantly reaching to lift him and hold him in your arms. From your acquaintance with cats, you expected him to thrash, scratch, or try to escape, especially from the hands of a stranger, but to your surprise he stayed put, letting you carry it over to the little girl and her dad, who were still kneeling on the grass.

The girl's eyes lit up when she saw you come closer, the cat still in your arms. "Fred!" she yelled and the cat finally showed signs of wanting to get away from you. You put him down and waved at them, coming closer and sitting down beside them, to be at eye level.

"Hey," you said and introduced yourself. "I couldn't help but notice this little guy trying to hide in the bushes. He's your cat, right?" you asked the little girl and she nodded, embracing him further. "Well, you've got a very well-behaved cat," you smiled at her, "he didn't put up a fight when I lifted him up, which is remarkable." Then you remembered a little girl of ten might not know what remarkable means, and opened your mouth to explain. 

"Yeah, Fred is very remarkable," she spoke before you could. You closed your mouth. All the while the man just sat there, seemingly evaluating you with his piercing blue eyes. From anyone else, you'd probably find the gaze daunting or uncomfortable, but from him, it sent a pleasant warmth through your body. 

"I'm Mary," she spoke once more, reaching her hands out to you. You took it and shook it, smiling at her. 

The man finally spoke up, "I'm Frank," he said in a deep voice, "nice to meet you. When did you move in? I haven't really seen you around."

"Actually, just yesterday," you smiled warmly at him. "This neighborhood seems lovely," you added.

"It is," he smiles. His smile is soft, lighting up his rugged features with evident kindness. You dismissed his previous hostility as a bad morning.

"C'mon Mary, we gotta get you ready for school," Frank got up and Mary took his hand and got up as well, waving at you as she and Frank marched back to their house, Fred trailing behind them. 

You smiled seeing Mary skipping next to Frank, holding his hand still. They made a very pretty, wholesome family. You wondered who the mom was.

A couple of days later you woke up to a weird scratching sound. You located the source of the noise was from the door, frowning before opening it. You were met with the sight of Fred, who immediately entered and rubbed his head on your leg. 

"Feeling at home, huh?" you smiled and scratched behind his ears. "Come on, let's get you back home," you got out of the door just when Frank came into sight.

"Good morning!" you called out as he got closer. 

"Morning!" he replied, lightly making his way to you. You noticed the way his white shirt stretched over his muscles and gulped. 

"Come on bud," he said as he lifted Fred up. "I'm sorry about him," he said. "I have no idea what's gotten into him," he smiled. You noted it seemed like he was in a better mood this morning. 

"It's fine," you replied, "he's a great alarm clock," you chuckled. 

"Oh god, he woke you up?" he scoffed at Fred. "Well, if you want to there's some coffee at our place, as a sorry for this little menace," he pet Fred a little.

"I'd love too, but I should probably get dressed," you gestured at your pajamas. 

"Yeah," Frank diverted his gaze, "Fred and I can wait," he said apologetically.

"Thanks," you said. 

You were back out within a few minutes, dressed and ready for the day. You walked beside Frank, making a bit of small talk about the neighborhood.

Once you reached the house you came in with Frank to find Mary eating breakfast in the company of a woman you haven't seen before.

"Thanks for watching her, Roberta. She couldn't be late today too," Frank said to the woman, Roberta apparently, and then to Mary, "Mary, we can't go chasing after Fred every time he decides to disappear."

"He was at my house," you intervened, "just coming to visit. He seems independent, you shouldn't worry if he goes on trips every once in a while. I promise if he comes to visit again, I'll get him back to you, okay?" you smiled.

Mary was quiet for a moment, as if considering what you just said, and then nodded. "Yeah, I guess you're right. And thanks for bringing him back. You too Frank," she smiled and continued to eat her cereal. You fought the puzzled expression that was threatening to rise on your face. Why would she call her dad Frank?

"The bus will be here soon, honey," Roberta told Mary, "better hurry."

Mary jumped up, took her bag, and grabbed onto Frank's hand. 

"Be right back," he said and started walking away with Mary. 

You felt Roberta's gaze immediately on you, as if observing you. You turned to her. "So, you new here?" she asked.

"Yeah, just moved in," you replied. "I bet you know everyone far better than I do," you smiled. You didn't know her relationship with Frank and Mary, but you were too embarrassed to ask. 

Roberta seemed to have picked up on it though, because the next thing she said was "When Frank moved in here, he didn't even have Mary. I live in a house across the street. I've always been friends with Frank, but when he needed to take care of his niece, I knew he needed a serious ass-kicking so he'd do it right," she chuckled. "but I think between the two of us, Mary came out great," she smiled fondly. 

"She seems wonderful," you agreed, thankful for her silent understanding of your cluelessness about the situation. 

Frank came back inside, closing the door behind him. "Thanks again for watching her Roberta," he said, "I'm sure you two got acquainted already," he added while pouring you a cup of coffee. 

You accepted the coffee gratefully, blowing on it slightly before taking a sip. Roberta was leaving to go about her day, so only you and Frank were left. You took in the house, and while it was a little messy, it radiated the happiness of a home. 

"So," Frank started, "I assume you've wondered about Mary… I'm her uncle, but her parents are gone." 

"It's okay," you hurriedly said, "Roberta explained a little, I get it."

"Of course she did," he chuckled. "Well then, tell me about yourself," he said.

And you did. You told him about your new job and your aspiration to become an author, even a bit about your family back home. He was easy to talk to, and in return told you more about Mary, that she was gifted, about life in the neighborhood. Before you noticed it, a few hours passed by. 

"Oh, look at the time! I'm so sorry, you probably have better things to do than sit here and talk to me, I can go if you want to," you rambled on before Frank reached forward and put his hand on your knee to stop you. You couldn't say you felt a jolt of electricity, because you weren't that cliché, but the warmth of his hand splayed on your knee did funny things to your stomach. 

His sincere eyes met yours when he said, "I work down at the docks, I repair boats, so I'm kinda freelancing, I can work whenever I feel like it. If you want though, you can come see the docks with me. You haven't been there yet, right?"

You shook your head, "I'd love to," you replied. 

You drove to the docks, getting out of the car and squinting your eyes at the bright late morning sun. Frank led you between a maze of boats and buildings until you reached the shed where he kept his tools. You sat down on a table and looked around, taking in your surroundings while Frank tidied up some stuff in a hurry.

"It's a cool place," you said, still roaming your eyes so you wouldn't have to meet his. Or more accurately, so you wouldn't let them linger on his arms, or shoulders, or face. You know, the normal things that you'd find insanely attractive about someone you've known for less than a week. Everything's totally under control.

"So, have you ever tried fixing a motorboat?" Frank smiled.

You raised your eyebrow at him. "I think you know the answer to that is a definite no," you chuckled. 

"Well, why don't you try it?" Frank suggested, "These aren't much use when they're sitting around here," he gestured at the tools. " if I'm here I might as well do some work. Wanna come?" 

"Sure, why not," you jumped down from the table and made your way to follow Frank through the door and back into the summer heat. He led your way to a small boat. When you got closer you could see the engine, the part that was covering it propped nearby to allow access to the mechanics of the ship. You both made your way on it and Frank crouched down and peered down at the engine.

"Okay, you wanna come see this?" he said and you came closer, crouching down next to him. He started explaining something about which part exactly is damaged, but you were too busy staring at his lips to really register what he was saying. Besides, you excused to yourself, it's not like I would've understood even if I was listening.

"So, what do you need to do to fix it?" you asked, breaking from your trance-like state and hurriedly changing the subject before he would realize you weren't paying attention. Or even more humiliating, realize what you were paying attention to.

He took a screwdriver and extended it to you. "For starters, I gotta open it up, which is the easy part so you can help," he smirked. 

You rolled your eyes but took the screwdriver from his hand, unscrewing where he showed you. You tried to focus on the job at hand, but honestly, you were kinda thinking about how much you wanted to screw him. Okay, chill the fuck out, you chastised yourself, he has a kid to worry about. And is way out of your league. 

For the next hour or so you and Frank, or mostly Frank, worked away at the engine. You actually managed to keep up with most of his explanations, despite the closeness between the two of you feeling both consuming and thrilling. The repairing the boat part was fine, and it was great to get some experience with something new, but it couldn't compare to the rush of your heartbeat every time Frank's arm brushed against you, or he'd lean into you a little, or grab your hand in his and show you how to properly do something. 

 Frank fixed one last thing and then looked up at you with a soft smile, "that's it," he said.

"I did it!" you exclaimed. "Wow, do you think I should start doing this as my job? I mean, I'm really good," you both laughed. 

"Yeah, sure," he said, "and you could fix some crankshafts and bearings," he smiled.

"Okay, yeah, we get it, I don't even know enough about boats to tell if these are actual boat parts," you laughed. 

"You wanna maybe get some lunch after all your hard work?" he gave you a lopsided grin and you accepted his invitation.

You were sitting at a small restaurant, enjoying your food, when you suddenly realized, "Hey, shouldn't you pick Mary up from school or something?" you frowned a little.

"Oh, no, Roberta wanted to have her for the night, so she's gonna take her," he said.

"So, Roberta is like a mother figure for Mary?" you asked tentatively. 

"I wouldn't say that, she's more of an aunt," Frank answered with a smile. "I guess the mother figure part is reserved for whoever I marry or something," he shrugged.

"Okay, maybe I'm prying a bit, but why don't you find someone? I mean, it doesn't seem too hard since you're so dreamy," you said, and then closed your mouth immediately. Please make the ground swallow me right now.

"Oh god, did I say that out loud?" you said and chuckled in an attempt to mask your embarrassment. "Whatever, ignore me, I'm just nosy and—"

"No, don't retract that," Frank smiled, his eyes glinting, "it's not every day you get such a compliment from a cute girl," he smiled timidly, blushing a little, but kept his eyes on you. 

"Thanks," you said, smiling. He was just being nice. You got through the rest of your lunch, ignoring the subject completely. You were glad he took it in good humor. Great, we're adults. We can move past that. 

You drove back into the neighborhood and stopped next to your houses. You got out of the car, stopping next to Frank. 

"Thanks for today," you said. "I had a great time," you continued and almost started walking away until Frank caught you by your wrist, effectively stopping you. You turned around; a questioning look on your face.

"You know I meant what I said at lunch, right?" he asked, smiling. "I'd love to take you out on an actual date sometime. You know, if you actually meant what you said at lunch," he smirked a little.

"I did," you admitted softly. "I'd love to go out sometime."

"Great," he said. "that means I can do what I wanted to do all day," he said. Before you could ask what that was, he closed the distance between you and attached his lips to yours. You brought your arms to wrap around his neck while his tongue slipped into your mouth. You explored each other's mouths eagerly, your hands tangling in the back of his hair while he pushed you against the car, hands exploring with passion.

When you pulled apart after what felt like forever but was simultaneously too short a time, you spoke. "So," you panted, "Mary's at Roberta's you say?"

"I like the way you think," he smirked and took your hand, leading you into the house with him.

Once inside, Frank led you to the bedroom. He was quick to recapture your mouth with his, his warm hands sneaking under your shirt, lifting it above your head, and tossing it aside. He stopped to marvel at you before you quickly closed the distance once more, pushing your hips against him a little before pulling off his shirt, moving to lick and suck down his chest and abs.

You reached his pants and made quick work of his belt, pulling his pants down with his boxers and freeing his already hard length. You spit in your hand before stroking him, and even watching him get hard made you wet with anticipation. You looked up at him, and maintaining eye contact you wrapped your lips around him, taking him into your mouth with greed. You started swirling your tongue around him and he groaned, thrusting into your mouth. You nearly gagged but you continued your ministrations, starting to hollow your cheeks and suck him for all it's worth. 

He put his hand on the back of your head, pulling you away and you stood back up. "As much as I'm enjoying this," he rasped, "you gotta get in on the fun." He attached his lips to your neck, sucking at your pulse point as you moaned. He reached to take off your pants and you undid your bra, tossing it across the room as well.

"Now we're even," he breathed against your ear, his hand trailing down before pushing a finger into you, smirking at the sensation of your wetness. You clenched around his finger, holding onto his shoulders while your breathing hitched. He inserted a second finger in and continued to finger you in a slow, torturous pace until you finally had it. You left open-mouthed kisses along his neck and whispered in his ear. "Frank," you moaned at his thumb reaching your clit, "I need you."

He didn't need to be told twice, pulling his fingers out of you and swiftly tossing you on the bed, hovering above you before capturing your lips in a thorough kiss before lining himself up with your entrance and pushing into you, the stretch causing you to moan and grab onto his back. 

He started moving and you dug your fingers into his back, panting at the feeling of him reaching your g-spot. The feeling of him on top of you, inside of you, was tenfold more intense than what you felt before on the boat, and you bucked your hips against him at the thought. He sensed your need and picked your legs up. You wrapped them around his waist and he started going faster, the change of pace and angle quickly pushing you both over the edge. 

Later you laid in his bed, the sheets messed around you, listening to the far-off sounds of the evening from outside. You absentmindedly moved your fingers along his chest, drawing the pattern of a heart over and over again, like a schoolgirl in a notebook. He said nothing, just took your hand in his, brought it up to his mouth and kissed it. 

"We should probably get some dinner," he said and you hummed in agreement. "Maybe I could take you out on that date?" he smiled.

As if on cue, your stomach grumbled and you both laughed.

"Let's go dreamboat," you sassed and got up to search for your clothes.

Some months later you celebrated Mary's birthday. You had a little party at home for her and some friends, which you helped organize. By now you were a part of Mary's life, and you couldn't be happier about it.

Frank came up to you, smiling. "I think we threw a pretty great party," he said.

"I do too. Mary seems like she's enjoying herself." You smiled at the sight of her playing with her friends.

"She is," Frank said. "And it's thanks to… me. Dreamy Frank at it again!" he said and you both burst out into laughter. 

"God, you're really never gonna let me live that down will you?"

"Well, you're cute, so maybe you still stand a chance," he winked and you both laughed. He went to help the girls with their game and Roberta came up and stood next to you. "You know," she said, "besides Mary, he never laughs with anyone like that. Certainly not an adult," she smiled and you smiled at her as well, catching Frank lifting Mary in his arms from the corner of your eye. "Well," she continued, "I guess that's how it is with family." 

That is how it was. You've never felt happier than in the moments you spent with Frank and Mary. You love them both dearly. To think you found your family when you were looking for a job! Well, life's funny like that sometimes. And you wouldn't have it any other way. 

hope you enjoyed! this was supposed to be fluffy but... oh well best of both worlds

Chris Taglist: @swatson06 @horny-nd-bored​ @shannon124 @perfectlyharolds​ @phoebe-21-99 @wintersoldierslut​ @iceebabies​ @wanessalopesueiros @sleepingpapermouse @steverogerswasalwaysworthy @holtzkinnon @angelicl-y @stydia-4-ever @thatoneperson5000 @fangirlfree​ @kaitcordx25 @bequeening​ @steve-barry-damon-logan​ @itscrazycherryblossomcollection​ @hollandxmarvel​ @darkwitchfromthesouth @stargazingfangirl18 @readsreblogsfics @onetwo3000 @beritmetal

if you wanna join / be removed from the taglist, comment/message me! this is a taglist for Chris and his characters. much love <3

[pinkhairedlily]

Every Glance A Step Closer

Prompt: Glances | AO3 link here. Connect with me on Twitter. Happy SS Month everyone! 🌸🍅🥗 @ssskmonth

“This one barely goes out of her laboratory. I swear to god she smells like formaline.”

“He smells like the dust and cobwebs in the library. I cannot even pronounce what he’s doing – archi…something. I just know he handles lots of old papers and books. B-o-r-i-n-g.”

“So anyway, Haruno Sakura meet Uchiha Sasuke.”

This was her one free day in her experiment period week, but she needed to steam off for a night and so she allowed her friend to tug her along for a chill night drink. What Sakura didn’t expect was to socialize with a small group of people in their year and to suffer the cold indifference of the guy in front of her.

To her another surprise, he held out a hand to her. “Hello there.” She took it, slightly conscious whether she used her formaline-cancelling hand lotion. A brief and firm shake and he quicky turned away.

“Sasuke finally speaks.”

“That hello sounded a little spicier.”

“Oh my, that hand holding definitely had some electricity.”

The cajoling and teasing finally stopped when the first round of beers came in. Local university gossip was the go-to conversation opener, from the open secret student-teacher relationships to recent couple break-ups. It eventually led to Sasuke and his list of confessions.

“I heard you turned down Mio from fashion design department.”

“No way. I heard she was approached by Celine for a gig.”

“Really Sasuke? That makes her the fifth girl you dumped for this week alone.”

“You never actually had a girlfriend, did you?”

Sakura stared at him doe-eyed, genuinely curious of his answer. He returned her gaze and raised one brow. “I have high standards.”

Oh wow, what a douche, Sakura thought. Hoots erupted in their table but only for a few seconds. While the drinking and the exchanges went on, Sakura found herself wanting to go home early. She was bored and her neck was tired from not looking at him. Under the guise of stretching her already strained neck, she stole a glance, hoping to have a brief moment to take in all of his features and remember his face.

But he was already looking at her. His eyes went to the door of the restaurant then back to her. Bored? He mouthed.

Sakura looked at the door, knowing perfectly what he meant. She chugged her supposedly last bottle of beer and made a small gap with her thumb and index finger. He caught her signal and started to stand up. Their group was tipsy enough not to notice their sudden movements as they shuffled out of the door.

She halted after a few steps, Sasuke’s figure already paces in front of her, wondering whether she should say goodbye or just walk towards the opposite direction back to her apartment. She didn’t think too much of it and quickly chose the latter.

She had to get ice cream first though, a sugar rush to help jolt her senses awake. She was choosing between chocolate and strawberry when a large figure stood beside her.

“A vanilla one, please,” Sasuke said, looking smug with his hands both in his pockets. “Your treat.”

Sakura felt weirded out by the fact that he actively kept on engaging her. His reputation preceded him, but she decided to humor him for tonight. “So library science and you’re an archivist.”

“Intern archivist actually. So you actually know me.” There was arrogance in his voice that made Sakura almost choke on her ice cream.

“Process of elimination. There is no male major in our year in the History department.” She glanced at him and saw that smug look slowly transition into a slight flush of embarrassment. Cute.

“And what if it was a hobby?” Sasuke fiddled with his still unopened vanilla ice cream.

“There was a job posting in the bulletin specifically calling for Library Science students.” Their feet led them to the park still bustling with university night life and settled on a bench under the canopy of a fully bloomed dogwood tree. “See, I’m not your admirer.”

“Well, that’s a downer,” he smirked.

They talked like that for a while, fleetingly exploring related topics to their degree programs, the usual prominent teachers, the busy schedules, until Sakura finished her chocolate and strawberry popsicles. It was on her way home, finally this time, that she realized he never ate his ice cream.

--------------------------

She next saw him on their building’s rooftop with a group of friends, a piece of unsmoked cigarette in between his fingers. He quickly met her eyes, did a brief nod, and looked away. She inadvertently expected more than that but she wasn’t here for a smoke break, and it wasn’t her intention to take it further. She was here for a quick getaway from her microscope and to appreciate the city view dotted with the flowers of spring.

He kept glancing her way, however. He would be in the middle of a conversation and his eyes would stray to her, and she would catch it in her periphery, trying not to notice it. She got tired after a few repetitions of this, and the next time he glanced, she caught his gaze.

Stop it, she mouthed.

I’m bored, he mouthed back. Walk with me. His fingers mimicked the gesture, his fingers walking in the air.

She put her hands together and slightly bowed in apology. Next time, she winked at him before running back to her laboratory, a small smile painted on her lips.

--------------------------

It became like this for the next few weeks; they conversed through glances and awkward gestures whenever they were in public with their friends. When it was time to come home, they would walk in separate ways and meet again in the park under the same dogwood tree and they would converse for hours. It was mostly Sakura word-vomiting about her experiments while Sasuke would look at her with abandoned fascination.

“Stop doing that,” Sakura called him out one time.

“Stop doing what?” Sasuke asked, his ember eyes never leaving her face.

“You stare too much I feel like I’m melting.”

Sasuke made a small grunt and wore his hoodie over his head to mess with her more. He waved his hands on both sides of his face, and she immediately understood the reference of a horse having its blinders on. “Good because usually I’m the one being stared at.”

Sakura reached out to his hoodie and tightened the strings around his neck. “You’re hopeless.”

He leaned forward, almost touching her lips, his face still between her palms. “Hmm, maybe I am.”

Sakura moved away just as quickly as he moved into her personal space, a hot flush creeping to her cheeks. She hated this particular situation since blushing always made her look like a cherry tomato.

“Cute.” Sasuke apparently said his thoughts aloud because he was taken aback the moment she glanced back at him. “Cool, I said cool.”

She laughed this off just as he completely covered his face inside his hoodie.

--------------------------

She visited the basement section of the library for reference materials. Her writeup was due tomorrow and she was missing a section on historical evolution of vaccines and dosages for the viral DNA she uncovered. The small library slip in her hand, she made her way to the dimly lit rows on Biology. The shelves were twice taller than her, but there were spaces in between stacked books.

Would make it very easy to spot a ghost, Sakura chided to herself. A shadow moved along the row adjacent to the Biology section, but she dismissed this as the library staff. Her fingers traced the spines of ragged books and examined the list of recommended titles in her hand. When she raised her head, ember eyes stared back at her between the spaces of the opposite row.

Hi, Sasuke mouthed. He glanced around and seeing no one, he whispered, “Can I come over to your side?”

She found it hard to stop her grin from rising. “More eyes, the better.”

It took only a few minutes for Sasuke to find all the titles in her list, but they littered around, walking in between shelves, taking one random book and flipping its pages, stopping when they find something interesting. When heavy footfalls were heard on the stairs, Sakura inclined her head, gesturing she needed to go.

Sasuke seemed to misunderstand as he pulled her through the sleeve of her cardigan to the area further behind the room, and as the shadows grew darker, and the noise became more muted, she heard the racing beat of her heart.

Finally reaching the wall, Sasuke slumped to the floor and patted the space beside him. Sakura followed suit, consciously leaving a space between them as she was slowly becoming hyper-aware of their proximity.

“How are you faring so far? Done with the requirements?” Sasuke asked, his voice low but audible enough for her.

Sakura nodded, and after beat, rolled her eyes at him. “Shouldn’t you be out there assisting others?”

“I believe you need more immediate help.” Sasuke pulled his knees in to rest his chin on and trained his eyes on her. “Sakura.”

“Sasuke.”

The longest minute of silence hung between them, tension strung by the stare, until Sakura broke it off with her eyes shifting to the floor. “What are you doing?”

“Flirting,” he said like it’s a matter-of-fact. “This is what they usually do to me.”

“And what should I do?” She let the words roll out of her mouth, unsure why she asked, uncertain also of what he felt. She met his gaze again.

And in that moment, he just sincerely looked at her. “Flirt back.”

--------------------------

Sakura was done for the school year. She will be officially graduating in a month, and to celebrate, she went out with their group for a sem-ender discotheque clubbing. She was gonna shoot her shot for a one-night stand with literally anyone who had chemistry with her – haha she was just kidding. As this seemed to be the final cap-off to her university life, she went all out with her clothes Sakura-style – basically a boxy cropped tea, high waisted jeans, and old heels her best friend gave to her in pity.

This was actually her first club experience, but she was glad to be with veteran friends. The first few minutes inside a closed space with bass boosted, unfamiliar crowds, and lots of skinship made her very uncomfortable. Her only reprieve was the free-flowing drinks – ironically she can handle alcohol well. The disco lights would have made it difficult to spot faces, but she found him in the dark, on the corner directly across her group, his eyes already glued on her.

She wondered if he ever forgave her for scrambling out of his presence in the reference section last time, explicitly avoiding his request to flirt back. It seemed like she worried for nothing since Sasuke raised his glass to her and mouthed congratulations. She raised her glass back, resolving to mind her own business tonight. But he kept looking, a smirk etched on his beautiful face, urging her to meet him halfway.

She didn’t need to look for an excuse as her friends suddenly pulled her into the harmless mosh pit of friendly grinding. Sakura allowed herself to move to the beat, enjoying the bubble offered by the club to lose herself for a few seconds. But she kept glancing towards his direction, his eyes looking for her in the mass of bodies. At first, the glances were mischievous, like playing hide-and-seek, then they held gravity, heavy lidded and palpable.

Sasuke was impatient, and soon enough, at her next spin on her heels, he was right behind her, his hands hovering over her arms, seeking consent to touch. Sakura turned to face him, one part shy, other parts unnerved, and she slowly encircled her arms around his neck, her eyes a definite yes. His hands went to her waist, and he brought her closer to his embrace.

“You don’t have your hoodie though,” Sakura said, a little louder over the crooning of Carly Rae Jepsen to Gimmie Love. “Someone will definitely see you.”

Sasuke closed whatever distance was between them and brought his lips to her ears. “That’s a relief then. I want to be seen with you.”

“Simp,” Sakura teased. “You’re probably expecting a confession out of me, aren’t you?” This was a long time coming and she wanted to get it over with tonight especially when she had alcohol buzzing on her side.

“I am actually,” Sasuke said. “I was hoping to beat you to it in the library last time, but you ran away. Coward.”

“What?”

“What? Didn’t you hear me?”

“You like me.” Sakura said in realization. She edged her face away from his hold to take a good look at his embarrassed face. “Oh, you really do.”

“You could be dense sometimes, Sakura.” Sasuke poked her forehead playfully, and he was rewarded with a bubbly laughter from her.

Their friends finally noticed them and the intense skinship happening. The yells and woots started to drown out the speakers.

“That took you two long enough, huh?”

“They really waited for the end of the school year to do their big reveal.”

“As if the whole school doesn’t know already.”

“What?” Sasuke and Sakura asked in unison.

“It was the constant eyesmex.”

“Really, they do it every time with no shame. It gives me secondhand embarrassment.”

“Right? Sometimes I think I need to yell get a room.”

“Maybe they’ll get a room tonight.”

“Oh my god, shut up."

🌸 It's my first time participating actively for SS Month so please go easy on me haha. Work is loosely inspired by Nevertheless webtoon (which now has a Netflix adaptation). Hope you enjoyed reading!

[taecalikook]

(Not) Just Friends

summary : Befriending the fuckboy with devilishly handsome face and emotional capacity of a pea is not exactly your choice, especially when you met him when you were in fifth grade, attracted for the unhealthy vermillion shaded face of the nerd he was that fateful day. So is Jungkook, as he is already putting strictly platonic label on your forehead and calls it a day. But it is only a matter of time before everything changes, and it only takes a frat party, lots of booze and... a certain Kim Seokjin.

{friends to lovers! au, fuckboy! au, fratboy! au}

pairing : jeon jungkook x reader (side kim seokjin)

genre : major fluff, a sprinkle of angst and borderline crack

word count : 24.612 (one-shot)

==============

“Hi, pumpkin! Is that for me?”

You were just sipping on your morning espresso, sitting in your favorite coffee shop while reading your favorite book of all time when the familiar annoying voice of your childhood best friend rang in your ear. You look up, finding the hateful smirk on his lips that you desperately want to strangle off of him, more for interrupting your sacred solitude morning routine—well not really solitude since you did promise him breakfast before class today. But as per usual, he just had to steal the glass you had in your grasps, sipping on the tasteful liquid while scrunching his eyebrows on your choice of reads.

“Isn’t it too early for The Great Gatsby in such a wonderful morning?”

“Isn’t it getting too old for you to keep drinking my coffee?” You bite back in the same bratty manner he displays. Jungkook chuckles, resting the cup back with a slight grimace. Probably because the coffee is tad too bitter for a sweet-crazed tooth like him. “You don’t even like espresso. I don’t even know why you always want a taste of my coffee.”

“Nah, I just want to mess with you fam.” He smirks, the bitterness still leaving a mark on his taste buds. Serve him right, you roll your eyes and try to center your attention back to your book. This idiot really knows no boundaries when it comes to you, you swear to God.

You and Jungkook have been best friends since both of you were kids. As cliché as it sounds, you met Jungkook when he was a total nerd in fifth grade of elementary school. He perfectly embraces the nerd stereotype at that time, thick ass glasses, braces, carrying books and his neon green nintendo nearly everywhere. You were not really interested in befriending the nerd, but when he got shamed by the cool girls for giving them chocolates for Valentine's Day—an expensive chocolate, for anyone keeping notes—you quickly stepped in when it seemed like it went overboard. 

Jungkook was bullied in the middle of the school yard with everyone to witness, for giving the girl he likes a chocolate on fucking Valentine’s Day. You noticed how ashamed he was—lips quivering, heads hanging low and the most distinctive feature is his cheek and ears, literally turning to the shade of vermillion. You did not know whether it is healthy for a face to be that red—you were terrified he might pass out—but yet those girls were still keen on mocking his sincere acts and his shy expression, not showing a sign to stop anytime soon.

Your consciousness literally forced you to step in, jumping on between them and literally yell at those girls. You forcefully stole the chocolate from one of the girls' grasp, eating them on the spot and shouted in irritation, “Done! I ate everything, so stop bullying him. You girls should be ashamed of yourself, he did nothing wrong!”

The imbecile girls were embarrassed, because their show was immediately stopped by an unpopular girl they never saw before in front of the whole school to see. One girl who seemed to be like the leader of the lunatic gang suddenly moved forward and pushed you until you fell on your back, and you know that was it. You seriously had been waiting to use your taekwondo skills for a better cause, and at that time, you saw the chance and took it whole-heartedly. You were not even using your full strength on her—you mostly used your defense technique when she was giving multiple amateur punches. You really lost everything when she grabbed your hair and pulled it hard (like most amateur girls would fight). The pain on your scalp hurt from the vicious pull, so you mildly used the front kick technique on her to push her away yet she easily fell down like a limp noodle, scraping her body with a small amount of the blood trickling out.

After the fight ensued and was broken off by one of the teachers, you and the crying girl were taken to the headmaster’s office. You were going to be punished severely, but fortunately some witnesses came to your rescue, you and the girl received punishment of detention for one month straight. Somehow, the spoiled annoying girl got out of the punishment with her parents persuasion, yet not really the same for your strict parents. They were furious for you to be punished for a physical fight in school that they directly cut you from your twice-a-week taekwondo classes you loved so much—thinking that it must be a bad influence for you. Not only that, you were also grounded and was forbidden to go out of the house for a month. You were devastated, but you know there was no way to change their minds, so you just sucked it up and promised to do your punishment well.

Day one of your punishment, you were sitting inside the detention class, the teacher was zooming off on the table with a documentary of Helen Keller played on the television. You were doodling on the back of your book in boredom. Suddenly, amongst the silence, a hush was heard in front of you, whispering your name. You shifted your head, finding the same boy directly on the table in front of you.You must absolutely did not expect it to be him—the nerd you saved from raging selfishness of the slow-minded girls.

“Hi... I got into detention to accompany you...” 

You inspected the boys with scrunched eyebrows in confusion. He somehow was still with the vermillion shade of red coloring his supple cheeks, just like last week when you were defending him. Is he... sick? He better be not, cause if he were, you were going to regret not setting the girl straight a little bit harder. The adamant despise towards injustice firing inside you was ignited by the lesson you always received from your taekwondo class, how you always must use your strength for goodness. Yes, you indeed will be missing going to Taekwondo classes. 

Realizing your mind had been anywhere but here, you straightened in your seat and tilted your head in confusion at the guy. “Are you okay? You look so… red.”

The boy quickly hid his cheeks with his palm, eyes not meeting yours out of shyness. It looked like he wanted the world to swallow him firsthand. “I—I’m sorry! I just have this weird physical habit of turning super red whenever I'm shy or angry..” He whispered, nibbling on his lips while still avoiding your eyes. “I hope I don’t make you uncomfortable..”

“Nope.” You answered with a loud pop on the last ‘p’, sending the boy a warm smile. “It doesn’t bother me in any way. You should not be ashamed of that. That’s cute.”

Well if you thought his face was already red, you could not imagine how more red it could turn into after you called him cute. Out of panic, you swiftly handed him the cold drinks sitting on your desk. “H—hey! You are too red, it is not possible. Put this on your face!”

After a few seconds he spent pushing the cold bottle to his face, you could finally see him breath again. You were unable to hold a smile looking at the boy, huffing his breath repeatedly to calm himself. You did sincerely find him cute, so different from the boys from your school who somehow really got on your nerves from constantly bragging about nearly everything. Their expensive belongings, their parent’s house, their ability to play sports, and it sickened you. Well you didn't really know the boy in front of you, but it seemed like he wasn’t the type to. You were prepared to drop him the second a cocky symptoms were found though, even if internally you wish he wouldn’t. You spared so much of your effort to take on the guy’s side, such a waste to do that on another thick-headed prick.

“I just realize I don’t know your name.” You suddenly thought to yourself after multiple times addressing him as ‘the nerd’ or ‘this boy’. He was just giving your drinks back to your desk, and then he shyly put out his hands to you.

“Hi.. My name is Jungkook. I am ten years old, and I came from Busan. I have one brother and one dog. My hobby is playing games and taking a bath! Nice to meet you!”

You really were going to burst into laughter, but then you detect the teacher was already woken up and shooting looks at the both of you for causing such a loud commotion. You bit your lips, holding any sound from coming out fervently, your eyes trained on your desk so you would be able to hold them back. Inside, you were glad that you saved this boy the other day. This boy was too pure and kind for his own good, and you were happy that you stood for him.

Well, that was all too long in the past, you nearly had a hard time remembering it. Now Jungkook has changed, 180 degrees from that cute, shy, vermillion shade faced boy you met in elementary school. After an agonizing ten years has passed, he went from a total innocent sweetheart, such a cutie to the annoying ass of a fuckboy jock he is today. What a shame to witness the degradation, you thought to yourself. But you did know when and where it went wrong—he was just too tired of being taken too much of an advantage by despicable people around him. The friend he befriended, his chemistry lab partner in middle school, his classmates and especially the girl he dated in high school. He hated it—he hated everything that happened to him when he was trying to be the nice guy for everyone. 

So in the last year of high school—after the bad breakup with the said girlfriend—he changed everything, nearly everything until it's even hard for you to recognize him sometimes. He swore off dating and romances, he went twelve hours per week to the gym and the school’s football team, attended parties days and nights before fucking random girls, and did the bare minimum in his education due to the shift of focus. But still even by then (actually, even until today), one and only person he would always listen to was you. 

When he failed one of his subjects in the last term of high school—and seemed completely unbothered by it, you were furious at him and refused to communicate in any way to him until he got his priorities straight. He tried contacting you, but you rejected at the first beep. He waited for you in front of your class but you quickly shove him with hurtful words his way, “You stop being yourself, Jungkook. I don’t even know you anymore.” and you meant every word. You missed your best friend, you missed his innocence and availability for you, and frankly, you also had enough of hearing about how charming he was, or how good he was in bed, talked in hush by your obnoxious girls in your classes. 

Few days later, you were already resting in your house while reading a book and listening to the droplets of the heavy rain knocking down on your roof, until a hesitant knock was heard on the door. You shuffled to open the door to find, was expecting your brother coming home from college, but instead found Jungkook, drenched in front of your porch with the remedial sheet on his hand—written that he passed the said subject with flying colors. You were surprised that he even got the chance to fix his grade, but after telling you he needed to do a fifty page review of the economic systems around the world to even got the chance to remedial test, you did realize how much he put an effort to pass a subject he didn’t even like. Somehow, it resulted in more happiness on you than you thought it would be. You couldn’t deny you were already contemplating whether you were too harsh or nosy on him, or he would just drop you the second you push him away. You were on the edge, imagining that you would lose a best friend because of your annoying attitude and peskiness. But he came through.

After welcoming Jungkook to take a bath and wear your brother’s clothes, you offered him a glass of hot chocolate, his favorite drink. But you noticed that he was still pouting, so you questioned it. “I am thankful that you knocked some sense into me, but Y/N, don’t ever ignore me like that again…” Jungkook’s pout turned deeper, his knuckles pushing your forehead in annoyance. 

“You are the last person who I ever wanted to turn against me.” He whispered after seconds of silence of just staring at each other, eyes turning gleam that knocked some guilt inside your chest. You nodded silently, promising that you would not do that kind of antics again.

You remember that day like the back of your hand—after a long time, you see how vermillion-shaded his face has returned after telling you how thankful he was for your presence as his best friend during the past ten years, and your straight-up attitude that set him straight during his weak times. He cried that day, telling you how hard everything was for him. Behind those strong facade and muscle, you realized he was still the innocent, vulnerable nerd with a vermillion-shaded face you met ten years ago. You missed those innocence he finally displayed, and it brought you back to times when it was just you and him against the world. 

Even after that day Jungkook still continues all his fuckboy ways, and until now after both of you went to the same university. He is taking an industrial engineering major while you were doing your life-long dream of taking political science, both of your faculties are located near each other. Jungkook was still being the same Jungkook he was, he joined the football team and brother frat in college, filled with dumb rich jocks who held parties nearly twice a week. After getting few drinks in the party, he would fall into meaningless sex with the girl he just knew before. Not that you mind, you have been way too accustomed in having such a best friend and it doesn’t even bother you anymore.

But still, you were confused how Jungkook is able to maintain his life together—his studies, his jock practices and his fuckboy activities in parallel. You have no objection at all for his life choices—since he never leaves you out and schedules a breakfast or lunch minimal twice per week with you to update you on what he was doing with his life and likewise. Not even counting the times he would get you from your apartment if you have the same morning class like today. By what you hear from him, it really seems like he is holding up just well. Good for him.

“Hey, stop ignoring me, you ugly ass hoe!”

You wake up from your long flashbacks, since you notice that you have been zooming out for quite a while now. You clear your throat, sipping on the coffee that has turned cold, sending apologies for not paying attention to him. “Sorry. I was distracted. You were saying?”

Jungkook frowns, his eyes squinted on you, and you know what he was doing. He was trying to diagnose your silence. You roll your eyes at his nosy acts. “Stop looking at me like that! I said I was sorry, Jungkook. Now tell me what’s bothering you. This girl you fucked with before, did she still try to contact you again?”

“I wasn’t telling you about that!” Jungkook raises his voice, his face slightly reddening out of shyness for you mentioning his bad experience on one of his one night stands. Looking at him, you are reminded about the vermillion-faced Jungkook you met in elementary school. Oh how you miss those reddening supple cheeks of his. “I was telling you if you are going to Hoseok’s birthday party this weekend. It’s gonna be lit, I swear! He is holding it in his fancy ass house with a pool and whatever.” You snort, your eyes trailing back on your books even if you are not reading at all. You just want to ignore him, implicitly telling how silly his invitation was. Parties are never your forte, you feel mildly uncomfortable in such a short distance with tons of strangers. You’d rather reread this book you are holding for the nth time already, you swear.

“Y/N, you could even meet boys there, I know how saintly you have been living lately. Live a little, pumpkin! I swear you’ll enjoy it there.” Still you don’t budge on him.

“Kim Seokjin is gonna be there, though. You sure you won’t come?”

Listening to his name, your ears perk up, eyes slightly glancing up to him. Seokjin is one of Jungkook’s frat brothers, a final year who surely does not share the same ugly traits of the other brother. He is smart, ambitious in his study, and is also the head of the Taekwondo university club. Your deep interest in Taekwondo has driven you to see him in multiple universities and external competitions, and you cannot bear yourself but to swoon over him and his rightful acts. Even if you surely do not have the courage to directly introduce yourself to him, you have been thinking a lot about joining the club with pure—well not really pure motivation. You are also unable to emphasize more that he is really one of the kindest souls out there. He is known as very helpful to everyone, joining as a volunteer in various social and environmental movements. You also heard that he had a serious relationship for five years, in which they had to break up a year ago because the girl had to move to America to pursue her study and decide to break up with him. What a doofus.

You notice the cocky, winning triumph on Jungkook’s face realizing how affected you are by the name, but you’ll set aside your will to erase the annoying smirk off of his face just to get more information out of him. “Continue.”

“He is best friends with Hoseok. I know he is not really a party type—you probably know that better than I do—but this one's for his friend's birthday party. He’ll come.” Jungkook says, munching on the served american breakfast in front of him. “You can finally meet him, probably say hi and then bone him while you’re at it. You get me?” Jungkook wickedly smiles, eyebrows dancing on his temple and you roll your eyes in response. You have such an obnoxious dickhead as a friend, and whose fault is it? Yours, of course.

“I hate you so much, Jungkook. Do you know that?” You gave him a cynical smile, and he returned it with the same bland taste, biting on the last piece of bacon. 

“Can.. Can I bring Lia too?” You hesitantly asked, biting on your lips. Jungkook’s chewing movement is slowing, an uncomfortable silence ensues.

Lia is your apartment roommate, a cute girl with the same major as yours. Short height, big round eyes and straight hair are her noticeable features, and what troubles Jungkook for Lia’s presence in your discussions, is her uncanny resemblance to his high school ex girlfriend. Her similar name, her looks, her height, her choice of outfit and nearly everything, reminded him of the girl he has been trying to forget. You were surprised while meeting her too at first, but you did not realize how the resemblance would bother Jungkook that much. Well probably, Jungkook was still trying to forget about her—hell, this whole new persona of his was founded by his heartbreak towards the bitter-ended relationship.

You remember how head over heels was Jungkook towards his ex-girlfriend. Whenever he is around her, or just thinking about her when she was brought up in your discussions, Jungkook would again turn vermillion in shyness for his adoration of the girl. He would waste hours, with all his power and wealth to make the girl happy—without telling you at that time about how much he spent for her, since he knew how fervently you would react to that—and content with the relationship they both shared. But none could prepare him for the inevitable break up, Jungkook found the girl was cheating on him with another older guy, in which he found out who was her source of income too. Jungkook was devastated, heartbroken and that's the turning point when he swore off romances and relationships at all cost. You tried your best in helping him mend the broken pieces caused by the vicious witch of an ex-girlfriend, but you know none of it was the same ever again. What you could and promise to do is to be there for your best friend, at all times.

“It’s—it’s okay. I think I am just overreacting over all of this. I swear.” He sighs, sounding a little bit tired of everything and putting the utensils on his plate. You lean closer, waiting for the continuation of his spoken mind. “I am so fucked up, Y/N. Like, there are so many things that keep reminding me of her. You know how evil she is, and everything she did to me—but I still find myself missing her so much it’s crazy. It’s been nearly two years, but I still think about her—a lot. The girl I was with last night. The girl I met at a party two weeks ago. Your roommate—gosh, i’m so tired.” He sadly groans, hiding his face behind his palm. Oh, how you wish to take away some of the pain he feels.

“I think.. I think you just need to stop pushing it away, Jungkook..” You softly speak, your palm caressing his shoulder to his arm in sympathy. Jungkook let out another sigh, resting his palm over yours, eyes filled with frustration over himself.  “I think the more you are trying to stop thinking about her, the less you are able to overcome it. Just let it go. Confront it. Confront everything that reminds you of her, and tell yourself that you are slowly but surely overcoming the hunch.”

Jungkook silently nods for a while zooming out to the street, until at one point he slowly squints his eyes on you, full of suspicion. You choose to look away, trying to be nonchalant of his suspecting gaze.

“You just want me to allow your friend to go to the party so you will have a companion to meet Seokjin, right?”

Well, you should know you are going to be caught red-handed, but it should not this fast, though. Are you that obvious or it’s just another episode of Jungkook knowing you better than you do? “You know how much I need to meet him, Jungkook! You are my friend, you should help me with this. I need her as my support.” You defend yourself, arms folded in front of your chest in agitation. You are desperately in need of  Lia there, so at least when you embarrass yourself in front of a cheering crowd—or worst, Seokjin himself—you will have support that helps you get into that taxi and drive yourself to the nearest cliff. You won’t even expect Jungkook to be  there for you, he must be off somewhere fucking bimbos and that’s just how less you expect of him.

“Hey, I can be your wingman to score him too! Are you kidding me? I am his kind, I know how to get you to him better than that friend of yours.” Jungkook scrunch his nose in distaste of your doubts about him. You scoff loudly, pushing your cold coffee away so you or Jungkook’s slob trait will not nudge or drop it to pieces mid argument. That surely happened before, and you do not want another dirty look thrown by the waitress at the both of you for causing troubles, yet again.

“Stop kidding me. First, you are not his kind. He is not a fuckboy. And what would happen if I go there with you are first, you missing at twenty minutes mark and off fucking some girl on the upstair bedroom or even worse, in the restroom and I’ll just be foolishly standing in the corner like fucking nerd who miss her literature club meeting with expectation to meet a cute, faithful guy in some dumb frat parties, fell in love and get married to happily ever after. Or second, you ignore the girls thirsting over you to accompany me and just an hour, you off to get a drink and those dumb girls will kidnap me and feed me to the lion. I don’t see any positive scenario over you, accompanying me to the party. No thanks.”

Jungkook is surely bewildered over the scenario you just play out to him. You take a deep breath, realize you have been spitting out so many words in such a short span of time. You are quite proud of that talent, though.

“That’s… strangely detailed.”

You roll your eyes, looking at the watch on your wrist. Only ten minutes left and both of you need to run to the first class.  “We need to get going now. Let’s go, you dumb jock.”

Jungkook sighs, following your step, resting a few bills on the table. “It’s my turn paying now. Let’s go.”

*

“Are you sure you want to wear that?”

Listening to Lia’s queries for the nth time, you sigh and go inside the bathroom to change into your comfy house clothes. You have been trying to find the perfect dress that is the perfect balance of classy and slutty since three hours ago—exactly right after you ran home from your afternoon class. But yet it seems like no dress is right, one makes you look too slutty, or another which makes you like a freaking nun amongst the girl in the party, or another one which make your butt looks massive or one that is too tight you know you can’t even breathe if you wear that to the party. And who are you even kidding? You are putting too much effort for a party that most likely will not even realize you are there. You know that you are not that excessively pretty like some girls that hangout with Seokjin and Jungkook’s frat—yes, you are not far on the other side either, but it’s still a valid point.

“I’m done. I’m just wearing anything to the party and if Seokjin can’t see me, he can kiss my ass. Probably gonna die alone anyway, why do I even try...” Your groan was muffled to the pile of clothes on your bed. Lia hisses at your sudden discouragement, she wakes up and launches a slap on your butt.

“Nuh-uh! You know how important this is to you, Y/N. You gotta try, or you’ll regret it forever!” Lia shakes you again, but you are still groaning against the clothes. Seeing how long this may drag and you still haven’t even done your hair, she has no choice but to drag you from bed until you are thrown on the floor with a loud bump.

“Ah! It hurts!”

“I know it hurts but you’ll be thanking me in the next five years when you are married to Seokjin and pregnant with his third kid.” 

“Now that’s just forward. And delusional. Seokjin is married to me? Seriously, like he even wants to deal with such a mess.” You pout while rubbing on your hurting elbow due to the unexpected fall. Even with such a small frame Lia cages animalistic power it’s unbelievable. “And I don’t even want to get married that fast! I still need to open my restaurant, I haven’t even met Liam Neeson, travel the world—”

“Wait-wait, hold on. Why Liam Neeson?”

“Because he is hot. Like real hot. Have you seen Narnia? That is one god-carved voice, damn! How I wish I could have a man with a voice like Liam. In Taken! He is so hot and protective and do you know that in Star Wars—”

Lia quickly shuts you by throwing a glittery dress to your face, disgust coloring her face. “That’s just borderline daddy kink and I hope you are well aware you are fucking weird.”

You grimace. “No argument here.”

*

9pm, and both you and Lia finally arrive at the large mansion which you recognize must be Hoseok’s. You check the text Jungkook sent this morning about the location’s address once again, quickly scrambling out of the car after muttering thanks to the driver to enter the huge, fancy house. Lia holds you by the waist, giving it a short squeeze of support seeing how jittery you have become since the taxi arrived. “It’s okay. You look beautiful, and Seokjin will be crazy not to see you.”

“Thanks.” You huff a breath, trying to muster a little bit confidence in your steps. It is half-working, you have to admit. 

It’s still early, yet the party is crazy enough you can’t even believe it. Every corner is busy with their own games and activities, the bass blaring in your ear until you’re this close to temporary deafness, and the outside of the house is a large outdoor pool with people laughing and girls with hot bod and bikinis. Just the perfect recipe of the best night everyone will regret—or maybe it’s just you.

You already had your fair share of parties, and you have to admit that it��s not your thing. The free booze, though? Tempting. You are trying to look at the better side of the whole ordeal. Even if you fall short and embarrass yourself in front of your crush, you get the eternal consolation of booze to help you kick the shame away. Nothing screams adult like pushing your problem away with the help of alcohol, right?

You check yourself against the reflection on the nearest mirror to you, restlessness creeping inside your head. Damn, you seriously are just a sack of old potatoes compared to these girls in clad dress and high stilettos which will surely be able to stab and kill someone. You should just pack it up and go home, really.

“Hey! I know that face, Y/N. No! We are not backing down. I did not just spend five hours of your whiny ass complaining what to wear for you to be this defeated without even trying!” Lia quickly pushes you away when you are about to run out the door for your life. You frown, ready to let out some whiny complaints when she pushes your unknowing ass away, right into someone’s arm.

From the countless people inside the freaking party you just had to fall to Seokjin’s arm. God must be joking. 

Looking straight into his beautiful, sparkling eyes, it seems like your mind is completely wiped like new, and you have the trouble of speaking your mind. His warm arms are around your shoulder, keeping you stable on your feet and this might be the nearest you have been to the taste of death.

“Hey, I’m sorry, I think you fell and I just caught you...” Seokjin smiles politely, eyes crinkled into a smile and you are still in the midst of inner conflict of speaking out anything. Out of realization how annoying your act must have been to him, you jumped feets away, desperate to keep a distance. You are really this close to running away, but do not want to be perceived like a total moron especially to him, so you let out a thin, nervous smile. 

“T—thank you for catching me.” You breathily murmur, feeling shy. How can someone not be? God, is he beautiful. His fluffy hair is styled nicely, he is wearing such a simple attire, a blue loose shirt and black denim but damn did he wear it like nobody’s business.

“No problem.” He lightly shakes his head, but a sudden realization comes to his mind as he inches closer to you, eyebrows scrunched together in question. You unconsciously lean further away from him, heart drumming fast in your chest. “I think I’ve seen you before. In my Taekwondo’s match. Right?!”

Never in a million years have you thought that Seokjin might notice—and even remember your face amongst the large crowd, watching him in his battles for your college’s team. You are always hidden, and as plain as ever whenever you watch him from the bleachers, and would run away the second whistle blows signaling the end of the competition. But now he told you he recognizes you?! Gosh, what are the odds. You have never felt so shameful and concious of your own skin before.

“Um… Yes! But you have nothing to worry, I’m not a stalker or anything, I just really like taekwondo and I like watching you—I mean the team!” You shyly correct yourself, internally punishing yourself for the accidental slip. You are such a humiliation and frankly, still too sober for this. What will you trade to forget the encounter never happened and drown yourself in booze in every form—drinks, beer, jelly shots, whatever.

“No! Of course not.” He chuckles, amused like he is really content to see you, nonchalant to how uncomfortable you are with your skin right now. You feel like a doofus, making a fool of yourself. “I really want to talk to you every time a match is finished, but you always bolt away after, I don’t have the chance to.” Then he dare to fucking winks. “But I’m glad we can finally meet here.” 

You are too confused with every act and word coming out of his mouth—did he just flirt with you?—so your reply is simple, and desperate. “Wow. Sorry, I seriously need a drink right now. Can you hold that thought?”

Seokjin chuckles and nods, his palm hovers over your back, guiding you. “I’ll come with you.” You don’t really know why he has to follow just for you to shortly grab a drink, and then he points to his empty glass. You nod knowingly, trying to focus on the booze bar you are heading to. The bar is crazy extravagant for a frat party, with the bartender pouring mixed drinks on the side. You silently gasp. Damn, Hoseok is really that rich, huh?

He continues with a cheeky smile. “I have been looking forward to talking to you since forever, and you just bolted out. Is it wrong of me to be scared you are going to pull the same trick again?”

Wow, you don’t even know what he means by that, so you let out a nervous chuckle as an answer. It is like you are back to third grade, having your first crush giving you hope by his words and you are busy configuring and overthinking everything like fucking detective conan. But you refuse to get your hopes up, your brain desperately screaming to fill your glass with your favorite whiskey. You offer him the bottle, and he smirks and receives it while purposefully brushing your hand in the process. Fuck Kim Seokjin. What happen to such a polite boy you heard so much about?!

“So, are you going to tell me about yourself?” He smiles, and your finger fidgets in nerve, quickly taking a whole gulp of the alcoholic drink, praying it to quickly intoxicate your mind so you can speak clearly in front of such handsome face. Well, for one booze is the best recipe for you during these times.

“I don’t know what you want to know about me, Seokjin. I’m just an ordinary freshman.” You smile, your teeth grazing your lower lips. But one thing you notice is that Seokjin is silent, his eyes following the movement of your bitten lips like he is completely bothered by it.

“Do you like taekwondo? I see you a lot in the match.” He starts with a simple question, while taking a large portion of his drink down his throat and ending it with a sigh. “When you were watching, you looked like you knew your stuff. It’s TMI, but I can’t help but to find it’s totally, totally hot.”

“So you are watching me watching people during a Taekwondo match?” You bravely shoot, and Seokjin let out a chuckle. You do not know what has gotten on him—or you, even at that point. What you know is that you feel your head is light, but your body is hot and bothered by just looking at him. Seokjin just literally flirts on you and all you wanna do is to jump on him and quench the thirst rubbing in the middle of your thigh.

At the time, you notice that Seokjin is bluntly staring at your lips, his eyes turned dark and heavy with lust, and his face literally inching closer and closer to you. You lick your lips, suddenly finding it hard to swallow. Is it really going to happen? Seokjin somehow, against all odds, finds you hot and that's it—you’re going to kiss him like that? Just how many years of luck do you have to sacrifice for this?

“Seokjin! Here you are. Hoseok is looking for you.”

The strange sexual tension that filled the air between you and Seokjin with your lips just inches away from each other is broken by the dumbest fuck of a best friend, Jeon Jungkook. Seokjin immediately flinches, moving away and you instinctively turn your head, your hands scratching your nape out of shyness. You swear you are going to kill your best friend after this. How dare he interrupt the moment you have been dreaming for such a long time now?!

“Thanks for that, man.” Seokjin hisses, his words dripping with sarcasm and annoyance of your interrupted session. He turns his regretful eyes to you, hands resting on your shoulder, sliding to your wrist affectionately. You do not know whether it’s just you, but your body feels like it is set on fire with his light , feathery touches. He suddenly grabs your hand, giving it a light squeeze.

“I’ll find you later, yeah? Don’t go anywhere.”

You shyly nod, and Seokjin turns his back on both of you and walks further away to the other side of the gigantic house. After his disappearance, you quickly land a hard punch on Jungkook’s arm in agitation.

“You are fucking idiot and I hate you! How dare you interrupt us like that?! We were just about to kiss, you moron!”

Jungkook frowns, rubbing on the spot you just hit. “Hey! I am doing this for your own good. You are certainly going to regret kissing that guy! He is not that good, you’re better off without him.”

You hisses at his lackluster explanation. “I don’t know what crack you are sniffing, Jeon, but you just told me yesterday to attend this party and bone him. And now you’re pulling this shit?!” 

“I know! But I just don’t like it with him. I feel like he’s up to something.” You sigh after listening to his nonsense. Seriously, you can’t believe it. The first time you ever try to flirt and kiss someone you just met, and get a response—from Kim Seokjin, more to emphasize—at a party has to be interrupted by your fuckboy best friend. You have overestimated your luck.

At your sudden silence, Jungkook takes the time to raise his gaze and take in your appearance from head to toe. You are wearing your black sleeveless bodycon dress, the one you once drunkenly bought a year ago and always have been placed on the back of your closet. You compliment your dress with a pair of red heels, fresh from Lia’s closet. Your wavy hair is styled nicely, tied up that exhibits your neck line to the slightest of your collarbone. Your makeup is rather simple, but the red lips is just the perfect end-touch to your appearance today. You are simply beautiful.

“Why are you looking at me like that, you hobo?” You snort when feeling Jungkook’s gaze is too intimidating around your body—you fold your arms protectively on your chest. At your mocking question, Jungkook quickly throws his head somewhere else, sniffling his itchy nose. He seriously needs to catch himself before he erupts and makes a fool out of himself. But one he somehow forgets is that his body is way, way more truthful in speaking his mind than he really is. 

“Hey! How was it? Have you scored Seokjin yet?”

On your side, Lia shuffles with a bottle of beer and a knowing smirk. You sigh, shaking your head mournfully. Your wingman nearly yells.

“Why?! I voluntarily shove you too, back then! I saw you guys are chilling together so I decided to grab something for a sec and now you’re telling me he’s gone and you both did nothing?!”

To answer her question, you just vehemently point Jungkook. “This asshole decided to ruin everything. Just when it is about to happen, Lia! His lips were this close.” You mourn your lost chance, mimicking his lips hovering over yours. Jungkook quickly pushes your hand away from your lips with annoyance, eyebrows scrunched together in disgust. 

“You are creepy, and I am doing this for the sake of my frat brother. He is better off with someone else.” He pouts, his face looking severely annoyed and red. But it’s not just any kind of red. It’s vermillion, just the way you remember it from your elementary school, along with the childish pout on his lips. Ignoring your previous anger at him, you scrutinize his face closely and shift his face side by side with your palm, and he looks completely flustered. What in god’s name is happening?

“Hey, why are you so red, Jungkook? Are you okay?”

At the sudden attention thrown at him, Jungkook’s face just becomes even redder—if it is even possible. Realizing that he is in a very unfortunate situation at the moment, Jungkook quickly racks his brain for any reason to avoid your pesky questions. “I—I just think it’s too hot in here. Don’t you think so?”

“There’s literally four air conditioners in this room, Jungkook. It’s freezing cold in this place. Who the fuck has four ac in just a living room anyway? Damn you, capitalism!” You hissed, unamused with his lies. Jungkook grins, realizing how idiotic he must have sounded. At your last statement, you are suddenly self-conscious about the coldness in the room, rubbing your bare arms to create friction and warmth. He quickly notices your subtle gesture.

“Are you cold? Here, use my jacket.” Jungkook instinctively offers, not even waiting for your answer and unattaching the fabric of his body. At the kind gesture, you are touched as he seems to always understand you without you even need to say a thing. But when you see he is just wearing a body-fit black shirt underneath the denim jacket he was wearing—clearly, that jacket is going to go either way—you immediately snort. That bitch is just asking for an opportunity to flex the unnecessary muscle in front of the girls there, no need for you to feel flattered whatsoever.

“God, you’re both so fuckin domestic and boring. I’m off finding fun somewhere else, don’t wait for me~” Lia coos, walking to the other side of the house along with her bottle of beer. Well, Lia basically knows her ways in and out of frat parties, so you are not worried for her. If somehow Seokjin does not find his way back in thirty minutes, you promise yourself to hitch an uber as fast as you can and bolt out of that shitshow without making a scene. 

As the girl who somehow looks exactly like his ex exits their space, Jungkook reverts his focus back on you. You are busy looking anywhere else but him, your lips clamp on the glass to sip on the beverage. “Aren’t you tired with those heels? Let’s sit somewhere else.” He offers lowly.

You comply either way, somehow feeling a little bit suspicious over Jungkook’s sudden calm demeanor. You know him and how he is at parties. He should not be with you right now, instead joining his dumb jock friends and the girls at the other side playing body shots. This is borderline weird—you don’t want to interrupt him during his fuckboy activities, now both you and Jungkook are seated on the sofa in the corner of the room. 

“Are you okay, Jungkook? You are suspiciously silent.”

Jungkook clears his throat again, but all of a sudden loses all remaining composure when your finger delightfully skims his cheek. “And your face is red. There must be something wrong. The last time I saw you like this was—”

Jungkook knows what you are about to say but decided not to. He decided to ignore your suddenly awkward gesture and answers. “It’s not that, I—I’m just not feeling it tonight.”

You suddenly scoop his fingers and squeeze it lightly. “Is it because I am here? I swear Jungkook, you don’t have to accompany me. I’m perfectly fine on my own, you know it.”

“I want to accompany you.” Jungkook denies, not knowing how to speak his mind in any other way. His gaze is filled with unexpected sincerity, you don’t really know how and why. “I attend these parties, meet these people nearly everyday, Y/N. But they don’t have what we have. And now that you here, of course I would rather be with you.”

You don’t know whether it is the alcohol in your spine or the bass thumping likely on your heart, but you clearly feel something about the words. You feel important. You feel needed. And the way Jungkook looks at you right now? You feel like it’s somehow filled with new, raw emotions you never found on him before. The way his fingers are clasped on you—it’s like he is holding it for dear life. You can not deny that you are mildly confused by the sudden tension between you and Jungkook.

“Here you are, Y/N. I’ve been searching for you.” 

Seokjin is now standing in front of you and Jungkook, his eyes silently trailing on the fingers intertwined with you and your best friend, but refusing to comment. Realizing how awkward the moment must have been for the three of you, you swiftly jump on your feet, cheeks slightly reddening out of shyness while Seokjin still maintains the charming smile on his lips. “Can I take you somewhere else? This party is too loud. Let’s go somewhere quieter.”

“Mmm.. Okay.” You mutter, trying your best not to glance at Jungkook. You want to avoid adding more fuel to the awkwardness—well, you are too emotionally incapable to face whatever emotion you were having with Jungkook just now. He is just a thoughtful best friend, why are you even dwelling on it like it’s something new in your friendship? And being the coward you truly are, you answer the offer of Seokjin’s hand, following him to the outside without glancing even once at Jungkook. Even if all you can think about is him and what the hell just happened.

*

It’s been nearly two weeks, but you have yet to receive any message, or call, or anything from Jungkook. It’s not his fault, though—you could have started a conversation yourself, but you always find yourself hesitating while typing words on your screen. Maybe it’s because Jungkook has mostly been the one to start any conversation, and now nearly two weeks has passed since your last encounter and you have no idea how to start. Idiot.

You are still lounging in your bed, mustering yourself to be brave enough to say anything to Jungkook. When suddenly a message arrives, you are startled, swiftly clicking it open. But seeing the sender, you sigh in disappointment. It’s not Jungkook.

From : Seokjin

Hey, you are coming to the practice, right? [12:40]

Do you want to grab a bite after that? I have this coupon I need to use:) [12:41]

Ah, Seokjin. Since that fateful night in the party, you have been frequently hanging out with him. He is a senior in your department—he is even the assistant for some of your classes—so you do meet frequently. It is weird now that you are acquainted with him, he is everywhere, like literally everywhere. Especially because after that night, he asks you to join the taekwondo club based on your interest and previous experience. And who are you to reject? You like Taekwondo, and you like him. Talking about killing two birds with one stone, right?

But now you feel on the edge nearly all the time because your fuckboy best friend is missing in action. You want to tell him everything, but you feel like you have sinned him greatly for ditching him that night. It’s even hard to find out why! All you know that he might just find another girl to fuck with that night, and both of you know that the only thing in first that invite you to the party is because Seokjin is there—even Jungkook propose you to bone him! You seriously hate yourself for feeling this way.

“Jungkook, you are a complete moron!” You hiss, throw the phone to the desk and dip your face to the pillow.

Okay, new plan. It’s better for you to just meet and confront him directly. So tomorrow after class, you are going to meet him after his 8am, and just point and blame him for ghosting your friendship. Well, he is not ghosting, but that’s not the point! It’s a brilliant plan, yet you find yourself strangely terrified for what is about to happen.

*

Tomorrow morning, you are going to ask Lia to walk to class together, yet you find she is already missing, bed is made and cleaned. It’s weird to see her wake up so early since she is absolutely not a morning person, but you shrug it anyway, expecting to see her in class. Still, even after the professor arrives, you find her regular place beside you is empty. You send her a message, but it is met with no reply. Skipping class is not really rare in her case, so you just silently attend, mind filled with the plan you will execute later on.

After class, as previously planned, you directly head to Jungkook’s faculty. You can remember it vividly, Jungkook’s class for the morning is always running late due to his old as hell professor, who talks extremely slowly and loves to discuss anything but the topic he is supposed to teach, hence your plan. You are going to wait in front of his class, supposedly asking to grab brunch together before accusing him for ignoring you altogether.

But then, what you find while walking on the bridge connecting the two faculties catch you by surprise. It is Lia, talking to a man who's back you easily identify as Jungkook—you can detect those small waist everywhere, hidden cladly in a slim fit dress shirt. Both of them are engaged in serious talk, with Jungkook’s face a little bit tense and Lia’s face looking like she completely had enough.

Lia? And Jungkook? Your eyes must be deceiving you right now.

With all will, you march onto them, and even the fact that they are talking, just the two of them without you is weird enough, they don’t even realize your presence until you are tapping on Jungkook’s shoulder with a suspecting gaze. The moment he finds you, he unconsciously jumps a few steps back with a loud gasp, exactly like whenever he has been caught doing something bad. “Y/N! You’re here!”

“Yes. I was just about to catch you after your class, Jungkook, maybe we can grab a bite together.” The moment you let out those words, you heard Lia snickers and Jungkook immediately throws her a look. 

“Finally. You both should eat together! and I don’t know—maybe be truthful at each other? or anything, I don’t care. I’m out of here.” She walks out, not minding your voice calling out to her. You seriously have zero idea what she means, but Jungkook quickly places his hands on both your shoulders—desperate for your focus, his cheeks now colored in bright shade of red.

“Don’t mind her. Let’s go eat.”

You stop your track against Jungkook’s force of pulling you away, scrutinizing his face closer with a worried gaze. “Jungkook, you are acting weird. And you are sooo red. Are you sure you are okay?”

Jungkook hastily nods, pulling you to the place you both usually grab coffee at, not really far from his faculty. On the way, both of you still fall in silence, and one thing your eyes could focus on is his fingers, tightly intertwined on yours—the same gesture he has been doing for around ten years now. 

Is it weird that now you definitely do not feel nothing from just holding his hands?

*

Both of you are seated on your usual spot—near the window inside the coffee shop, right after ordering. “So. Are you going to tell me where you have been these past two weeks?” You questions, sipping on your usual choice of espresso. Jungkook grimaces, his fingers clasping against each other nervously. Not that he expects you to beat around the bush.

“I am just kinda busy. With practice and studying.” He silently answers, eyes still not looking anywhere else but you. And what kind of best friend are you not to notice that?

You nod cryptically, decide against pushing it.  Even though skeptic, what he said does seems plausible. “So, what’s up?’

“Just the regular.”

Your left eyebrows raise. “No news on your fuckboy conquest of one night stands?”

Jungkook eyebrows scrunched. “You’re disgusting.”

You are baffled at that. “What?! I am disgusting? Jungkook, you have been explicitly telling me stories about these girls you sleep with for already two years now. What are you, playing coy?“

Jungkook sighs tiredly. Instead of answering, he reaches for your glass of espresso, sipping it before wincing due to the bitterness—like a fucking moron doing his usual thing. It seems already too familiar, so you just shrug it and focus on the initial topic instead. “I just… I haven’t been sleeping with anyone these past two weeks, okay?”

You send him a cryptic look, and Jungkook complains in frustration. “I am not lying! I am not an animal, okay? I am tired sometimes, and I am allowed to not do that anymore.”

“Jungkook, there is no way you are not going to parties and not sleeping with these girls. You have been doing these for two years. What gives?” You push, as you know there must be something he is hiding from you. Jungkook sighs, looking at you with a gaze filled with strange emotions.

“I—I haven’t been to parties too. Look, I am just not feeling it, okay? I just.. I just needed a break.”

Looking at Jungkook, it is difficult to even imagine him not doing all his usual popular jock activities. And now he told you he hasn’t been to parties for two weeks? It’s really unlike him. He hasn’t missed a single party for these past two years since high school to the point you have a hard time remembering what he used to do on Friday nights. Something must have happened, that’s for certain.

“Do you want to tell me why?” You ask him carefully, your fingers reaching out to his. He looks up at you, something in his face tells you that something indeed has happened. And suddenly, your mind flashes to the event that just occurred. Could it be?

“Does it have anything to do with Lia? This morning, when you met her?”

Jungkook’s eyes bulge, his hands are harshly pulled to his lap, away from you. You can detect his chest pumped, heaving too much air in, eyes nervously scanning away. Too many reactions for a mere ‘nothing happened’. “I—I don’t know? What do you mean?”

“It’s weird! You were literally avoiding her before, Jungkook. But then I saw you meeting her alone. What happened? Tell me.” You persuade, determine to get to the end of it. But the answer you are given is only a nervous shake of head, with shade of red slowly creeping in his face. Another trait that you know from Jungkook, is his inability to hide his feelings—at least in front of you.

Due to his prolonged silence for his orders arrival, you silently guess what might have happened with him. A flash of unpleasant image enters your head and you wince internally. God, please don’t let it be true. You even have a hard time to spell those words. 

“Jungkook, please tell me you didn’t sleep with her.”

Jungkook’s face is flushed in a bright shade of red, as he shakes his head vigorously. “You are crazy. I did not sleep with your best friend.”

A sense of relief washes you. “So tell me what it is! What is it that you can’t possibly tell me? It must be it, or do you expect me to believe you somehow have feelings for her?!” You mindlessly intrude, but now seeing Jungkook’s face is vermillion red and how silent he is for a few seconds after the accusation, you can’t even believe there is a chance it might be true.

You hesitantly approach, voice caught up midways. “You… do you have feelings for Lia?”

Jungkook stares back at you, and you can see a hint of sadness on his eyes. Internally, he is terribly conflicted. He doesn’t know what he can say to you. He already has the answer to your query on the tip of his tongue, clearer than anything else but he cannot do that. It would be unfair to everyone, especially you. 

In life, Jungkook believes he is a risk taker—he is taught that way, ever since he was a little kid. Risk is what makes life even better and interesting. But how can he gamble with what you both have right now? He could never take that risk for what you have right now with him. It’s too much in stake—a game not worthy to play, and he knows his chances like the back of his hand. So he forces a smile, mustering all his might to say something that he is well aware does not reflect what he is truly feeling.

“I—I think so..”

Listening to his answer, you nod slowly, not knowing exactly how you feel. You are happy for him—for Jungkook to finally find someone he likes, someone who can get him off the meaningless sex routine he has been accustomed to for awhile now. And truth to be told? Lia is one of the best girls you ever acquaintanced with. If one thing you can ever count on, is that both of your best friends are great people that somehow grealy deserve each other. Lia is pretty, smart, fun to talk and party with, and allegedly good at sex—you don’t really now, it’s just what she claims to be—and Jungkook is the kindest soul out there—even if he is a certified douchebag once in a while—but they really fit each other well.

But is it disappointment in the pit of your stomach?

Noticing how silent you have become, Jungkook quickly takes the opportunity and changes the topic he instantly regrets. “So, how are things with Seokjin? I hear you both are hitting it well.”

Your throat feels constricted, so you clear it, hoping your stupefiedness is unrecognizable. “Yup. He is a good guy. I am now in the Taekwondo club as well, so… yeah I’ve been seeing him a lot too.”

“I am glad you finally got into the club! I remember how much of a pain you are, always go on and on talking about Taekwondo.” He rigidly smiles, eyes still trained on the dish served in front of him, cutting it in pieces. God, he is seriously digging his own grave with this fake supportive best friend shit.

“Yeah, whose fault is it that I got off Taekwondo in the first place, huh?”

Jungkook sighs, resting his utensils on the plate. He is aware of it very well, he knows what a fucking coward he has been since little, which may had forced you giving up on taekwondo—something you really loved. You can’t even imagine how guilty he is about everything. You have been the one thing keeping him sane, yet he always thinks himself on the recipient side of the friendship. And the midst of his current vulnerable state, he feels greatly undeserving of you. Who is he kidding? You might even regret saving him from humiliation on that fateful day, ten years ago.

Sensing that your joke may have not been taken well by Jungkook, you reach out to him, placing your palm on his, trying to soothe the indignation palpable on his face. “Jungkook, I am sorry.. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know.. I know. It’s okay.” Jungkook answers, lips pursed into a tight line. You can see that he is indeed piqued, and truthfully, it is your fault. He always blames himself for the time he felt you sacrificed so much for him—like Taekwondo, for example. You convince him that it is not his fault since you can always go back to Taekwondo again—you just choose not to, but he always blames himself, thinking of the what ifs. You should not have brought it up and joked about it.

The silence then ensues, the tension between you and him thickens like you can slice it and choke it down your throat. You were about to apologize again, right when your phone rings and displays Seokjin’s name on the screen .Jungkook definitely saw the name too himself. You are hesitating whether to answer or not, before Jungkook answers it for you rigidly, jaw clenched tight. 

“Answer it.” 

When you are in the middle of conversation with Seokjin—and unimportant one, Jin is just asking what are you doing because he is bored in the middle of intensive taekwondo training, so you just casually tell him about grabbing a brunch with Jungkook—your best friend quickly flips few bills from his wallet, raising up from his seat. You swiftly hold him back, cutting off the ongoing call without even saying goodbyes. “Jungkook, where are you going?”

“I guess you must be somewhere with Seokjin, right? Let’s go, don’t want to keep the handsome boy waiting.”

The way Jungkook pronounces every word is heavy with sarcasm, and it wounds you. Is he seriously telling you that you are going to ditch him for Seokjin? Dry tears are lounging on the corner of your eyes till your visions are blurry, and it is hard to even breathe. How dare he play that game to you? Does he really think he has any right to treat you like that?

Jungkook must have noticed your contorted face and inevitable tears, and he is quick to apologize. “I am sorry, I didn't mean it like—”

“Save it.” You curtly cut him, slapping a few bills on the table. “It’s my turn to pay now. And you are correct. Thank you for that, I will find that handsome boy right now.”

If Jungkook calls you again, you are unable to hear it. Too pissed off to even breathe, your head feels like it’s about to explode along with tears that are quick to rain on your parade.

*

After you storm off the brunch with Jungkook, your afternoon class is fortunately cancelled. Instead of going with your words and meeting Seokjin, you decide you are too emotionally exhausted and head back home. So here you are, chilling in your apartment alone, watching netflix and eating popcorn after completing a long nap of five hours straight. Your phone is far ducked inside your room, as you notice Jungkook has blown off your phone for quite a while now, and you are this close to answer it so you throw it away. That bastard definitely deserves a lesson for pulling an unfunny passive aggressive prank like that.

While you are in the middle of refilling your bowl for the second batch of popcorn, your apartment door is swung opened. It is Lia, with a huge triumphant smile on her face. “Look what I brought us!”

You don’t even know the reason why, the moment you are looking at Lia’s face, you immediately remember Jungkook’s claim that he has feelings for this girl. For your best friend. For a girl who looks exactly like his ex. Damn, did you really sound that bitter?

“What is it?” You fake enthusiasm, even if what you really want to do is sigh and roll your eyes. 

“Chicken and beer! Not just chicken, this is the exact brand and flavor you like! I think since we rarely hang out nowadays, tonight we can watch bad movies together and eat and drink unhealthy food and drinks we probably will regret in the morning!” She cheerfully shouts, resting the packages of food on the table, running to her room to change into comfy clothes.

You bite your lips, regretting how undeserved she is for your cynical thoughts. You are greatly touched by her mindful gesture. Albeit harsh and sometimes cold, Lia is really affectionate at times, kind and selfless to her friends, especially you. You can’t even count how much she helped you, saving you from an embarrassment or humiliation due your sloppy and forgetful trait. The mind is indeed a dangerous place, and you should limit any possible toxicity that might be planted and grow in it.

So you and Lia jump to watch some chick flick which she always denies to like, but somehow always in tears after. One thing that you might not realize is that you often find yourself staring at her, thinking about how easy it is to like her. She is really the dream girl. Pretty, strong, funny and independent. She’s basically perfect. You even doubt Jungkook deserves her, seriously.

“Honey, another look and I think I might just go gay for you.” Lia sighs, resting the chicken drumstick on the plate. You avert your eyes on the TV, shy of being caught staring. “What is it? Are you falling for me? I swear—”

“No, I just.. Nothing.”

You are silent, busy gulping the beer to hide how flustered you are right now. Damn, are you really that obvious? “There must be something. Y/N, I will not push, but you know you can tell me everything. Nothing will surprise me, seriously.”

You nod, throwing your attention back to the movie. But not even five minutes, the curiosity gets the best of you, so you decide to mum a question to her. 

“Lia, what do you think about Jungkook?”

You kind of wish she does not hear you, but it is instantly cancelled since she answers. Yup, she can hear your silly question, loud and clear.

“Jungkook? He is hot, good looking and kind. A little dumb and blabber a little bit too much, but I think it’s manageable.” She nonchalantly answers, suddenly her prodding eyes are thrown at you. “Where does this suspicious question come from?”

“Nothing! I just want to know what you think of him.” You bitterly smile. Yes, definitely that and only that.

Another ten minutes pass and you open another question, still full of hesitation whether it’s best to ask or just keep it to yourself, yet it’s literally killing you so you ask anyway. “Hypothetically speaking. If… I don’t know, Jungkook confesses to you he likes you. Would you accept it?”

Lia looks at you strangely — like you have grown another head, when her face suddenly brightens, an imaginary light bulb practically pictured on her head. A sleazy smile is worn on her lips, her eyebrows wiggling playfully. “Ah! So that is about all this. Finally!”

“Of course! Jungkook is a nice guy, he is kind, respectful, albeit a little annoying and dumb, he is hot, which kinda makes it even. He listens well, and strangely gives good advice.” Lia brightly smiles, literally like the woman who endorses cooking items in the supermarket to middle aged mothers. “I think anyone having a monogamous relationship with that manchild is very, very lucky!”

You do notice how exaggerated and odd her sentence is, but when you are about to reply, few soft knocks are heard on your door. So keeping the words back, you wake up and mindlessly open it.

Well, It turns out to be Seokjin, and he could arguably be the last person you think would be standing in front of your doorstep now.

“Seokjin? What are you doing here, at this time of the night?”

Seokjin answers with a serene smile, his eyes sparkling amidst the dim hallway. “I am sorry to be at your doorstep this late. I just… I just want to talk to you. Is that weird?”

Your heart literally skips a beat at that. Seriously? Seokjin comes to your apartment at 10pm just to talk to you? Is this even real? “You can’t just call me? Not that I’m not glad to see you, but I don’t want to tire you. You just finished your crazy tiring training!”

“I’ve been trying to contact you, but I went into voicemail. So I guess, more reason to meet you, right?” Seokjin shyly smiles, scratching his nape. God, have you ever mentioned that he is really cute? “I hope I’m not a bother.”

“No! Of course not. But my roommate is here. Do you want to go somewhere else? I think one restaurant near here is still open.” You quickly offer and Seokjin agrees with a nod. You are hurriedly about to grab your purse, when Lia walks out to the doorstep, meeting Seokjin.

“Hi! You must be the roommate. I’m Seokjin.” Seokjin offers a hand along with a charming smile. Lia receives it with confusion written on her face. 

“Are you both going somewhere?” She asks, puzzled. You slightly run to the door, hoping there is nothing to be discussed amongst the three of you anymore.

“Yes! We are. I’ll be back soon, see you!” You quickly smile and close the door right on her face. Damn, you don’t know what has gotten into you, but you really can’t seem to shake that cautious feeling. It really needs time before you even consider letting Seokjin hang out with your nosy friends. Like Lia, or even Jungkook.

Especially Jungkook.

*

Jungkook is sitting with Taehyung, his project mate on the corner of a restaurant near your apartment. He has been trying to contact you since afternoon but you still haven’t replied to his call nor messages, it makes him feel guilty beyond words. He shouldn’t have snapped like that at you, you literally did nothing and he blew everything way out of proportion—especially when that dickhead Seokjin called you. And now he is nearly losing his mind, because he doesn’t want to spend another minute in your probable wrath. How can everything be so messed up?

“Dude, stop calling her. She’ll call you soon. Why is this such a big deal?” Taehyung groans when Jungkook relentlessly dial your number once more. He doesn’t even know why, but another call you ignore, he might combust and run to your apartment, begging for reconciliation. He is seriously just that desperate.

The call fails, yet Jungkook is still tapping on the call again button when Taehyung meddles in his pathetic best friend obsession. “Hey, stop! Why are you doing this, dude? You like this girl or what?” 

At Taehyung’s accusation, Jungkook was silent. “I don’t know. But I can’t stop, Tae. Or I’ll go crazy.”

Taehyung sighs, giving up and instead going back to his work. As long as the tasks are divided, he would not be bothered by his friend’s crazy fixation towards a so-called-friend. Seriously, why do people even want to monogamously date? It’s such a hassle, and unimportant. Girlfriends are liabilities, and Jungkook of all people should know it!

After being rejected for another three calls, Jungkook finally gives up, slamming the phone on the desk. “I give up. She’ll never answer. Fuck it, I need to work.”

Taehyung glances at that guy trying to focus on the task in front of him. Everyone can see how out of place he is—if there’s a guarantee Jungkook will not land a punch to his precious face, he really wants to tease him right now it is hilarious. Damn, his friend is whipped.

Amongst the silence, Jungkook’s phone suddenly rings. Throwing the thousand page book in his grasps right away, he answers it like a madman—probably without even checking the caller. It must not be the girl of his dreams, since his hopeful puppy face instantly sombers.

“Of course not! How can I, we just got into a fight.”

After listening to the faint caller’s word, his knuckles intimidatingly whiten due, jaw tightening. “Seriously? They are leaving now?”

A few banter and the call ends, but Taehyung can see how bothered the guy is after the call. He is no longer bothered to even pretend he is working, instead his eyes hollow, zooming out to nothingness. But another five minutes, a slight tingling from the entrance bell is heard and Jungkook feels like his heart is about to fall out he instinctively ducks his head. Taehyung tries to steal a look to the source of attention, and it’s you, the girl he has seen a lot previously with Jungkook and Seokjin… Together while holding hands.

Oh, oh. This is bad.

Jungkook really should just storm out. He is never the masochist type, but somehow curiosity gets the best of him so he stays, his work is completely ignored. He focuses on glaring to the other side of the restaurant where you and Seokjin sit near the window, nonchalant to his presence while lively and affectionately talking to each other. And for fuck sake, can fucking Seokjin get his hands off you? It takes everything in his power to ignore the need to slap those dirty paws away.

“Jungkook, we should go..” Taehyung silently pleads, noticing how tense his friend has become since you and Seokjin arrived. But Jungkook is unable to hear or sense anything, was too focused on probing both of you while trying not to be caught.

It is a rather short meal, as you and Seokjin only ordered a dessert to share and Jungkook is irritated. You finished a bowl of ice cream in one sitting and you can’t seriously get a dessert for your own? Disgusting—After approximately thirty minutes, you and Seokjin head out, hand by hand with a sickeningly shy smile on both of your faces.

Jungkook thinks that is the end of it, thank God he can finally breathe. But how wrong he was to even think he will remain unscathed, because as both of you stand in front of the restaurant, Seokjin bravely pulls you closer by the nape and crashes his lips on yours. It feels like a punch to Jungkook’s gut, seeing how blissful both of you are engaged in a sweet kiss, your hands on his cheek and his hands clasped on your waist. There’s the anger, the jealousy raging inside Jungkook’s chest at the moment that it’s even difficult to breathe. 

As now both of you and Seokjin have left the scene, Taehyung forces himself from the tense situation to steal a glance at Jungkook. Just seeing him—staring at the ceiling with no expression whatsoever—radiates the devastation and frustration he is currently experiencing. God, Taehyung hopes he will never have to experience that kind of emotion in his life.

*

During ten years of friendship with Jungkook, you never knew what it feels to have him avoid you. But now that you are exactly being treated like a plague by him, you wish you were warned beforehand because it fucking hurts. And you have no idea how or why, and you have no one to console your loss — not even Seokjin, or Lia. Well it mostly because you don’t want them to realize how fucking dependent you are to Jungkook, it’s pathetic.

“Kitten, you are spazzing out. Are you sure you are okay?”

Seokjin’s words are nearly lost on you, and the moment his hand is on yours, you unconsciously flinch. He is now examining you, with a gaze full of worry. 

“If you are feeling not okay, we can just go home.” Seokjin kindly offers, but you shake your head fervently, not wanting to wallow again in your sadness. You can’t take this away from Seokjin, when it’s his dearest fellow frat brothers—especially the seniors who are having the party. Seokjin as the angel he is will not let you be alone in your apartment.

Since the day you meet Jungkook for brunch, a week has passed and it seems like you and him are in the middle of a cold war. It’s not like you are not speaking to each other, but every word coming from him speaks distance and you are tired and just stop trying—yet it doesn’t lessen the pain. And now you are going with Seokjin for his frat party, and you know Jungkook will be there—it might be the reason you are simultaneously eager and despise going to the party. You are terribly anxious about facing him, but you can’t back down when you know you did nothing wrong.

In front of the frat house, Seokjin holds your hand and brushes his lips to your temple as an encouragement. “Let’s go in, shall we?”

You throw your gaze at Seokjin’s side profile. Seriously, what did you do to deserve him? He is seriously the kindest soul out there, always looking for your best interest. He never hesitates to go big for you, yet you can help but to feel guilty. He is too kind. Too perfect. And you can’t shake this feeling of undeserving and owning him everything to him.

The moment your feet step into the party, your eyes instantly fall to someone so familiar yet so strange—Jungkook. He is leaning on a sofa, talking animatedly with two girls on either side, leeching to him like they are willing to take turns to suck him dry. You roll your eyes in disgust. What were you expecting? That Jungkook might go celibate and seriously get a grip on his life? You must be drunk. That bastard can’t even face the fact that he likes someone and actually does something about it.

Yes. He likes Lia. But being a total fuckboy is not what someone should do when he seriously likes someone, right? You just want the best for him, not wanting Jungkook to waste another time when he can have someone he truly likes instead of engaging in another one night stand.

While Seokjin is chatting with his group of friends, you excuse yourself to grab a drink. He, as the gentleman he is, offers to accompany you, but you refuse—mentioning it will only take a short while. And after finally settling in the kitchen where you can finally have a space for your own, you heave few deep breaths. You do not know exactly why, but being surrounded among strangers always sends you to a nervous bundle. 

That’s exactly the reason why you always avoid going to parties. You wanted to tell Seokjin about the anxiety you feel, but you feel like it’s too much of a burden to throw on him so you just swallow everything and hope for the best—but now you regret everything. At least previously, you have Lia and you are assured she is going to take care of you. Not that you don’t think Seokjin will not, but the trust issue you have for nearly everyone is not going to go away when you literally only know him for one freaking month.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Suddenly, a familiar voice is heard and you look behind, seeing Jungkook with a worried gaze, his palm soothing your back. “You don’t really look good. Does the party bother you?”

You bask in his appearance, and sense the anxiety building up inside your head crashes into a loud sob. Seeing such a familiar face, worried about your well-being somehow instantly relieves you, and the emotion is excessive and you inevitably feel the urge to cry. 

“Hey, hey. Don’t cry.” Jungkook whispers, pulling you inside his arms and enveloping you with the ever-so-familiar warmth. His fingers forming circles in your back, just the way he used to calm you on every rainy day, while you clutch into his jacket for dear life. 

“Why do you even come here, you idiot? You should have let me know.”

His ignorant statement somehow flares the anger inside you, and you irritatedly push him away with both your palms. Jungkook is a jerk, and you do not deserve any of this. “How can I let you know, Jungkook? When it’s crystal clear you are avoiding me. I haven’t heard anything other than your one two word messages. I can’t even call you!” 

The guilt is definitely painted on his face, confirming a guess that has been going around your head. He truly was avoiding you. “I—I don’t mean it like that…”

“What wrong did I do, Jungkook? How can you do this to me?” You whimper sadly. All the frustration inside you is coming out. “I know I was wrong, but this is not how we resolve things, Jungkook. You know it. And you can’t even tell me what’s wrong directly to my face, or even try to reconcile our friendship, instead you go back to partying, eye fucking two girls at the same time when I’m standing right here. Do you even know how it makes me feel?”

“It’s not that!” Jungkook defends himself, feeling the obnoxious guilt seeping inside his heart. He feels at fault now seeing how heartbroken you look, and the fact that he is the one causing them. It’s like he is finally awoken, that he has been selfishly trying to redeem himself from a one-sided love for his childhood best friend without thinking about how you feel. But in his defense, he thought you would be okay! 

“I...I just thought now that you have Seokjin, you won’t be needing me no more. He seems to be such a better companion than I am. And I know you like him so much, Y/N, I feel like...”

“Hey. Are you okay?” 

All of a sudden, Seokjin appears in the kitchen, staring at both you and Jungkook standing in front of each other with somber looks on each of your faces. He definitely was about to say something, but like he sobers up and puts up a thin smile and reaches out to you. “You take a long time to get a drink, so I thought I should check up on you.”

You quickly grab the nearest bottle of beer, giving a short, civilized smile to Jungkook to handle the pain throbbing inside his chest. You desperately need space away from him, swearing that you would do anything to avoid breakdown in the middle of a frat party filled with tons of strangers. “Excuse me.”

“Hey, Seokjin! Get your girl, we are going to play!”

That trademark voice was definitely Hoseok’s, gesturing you to join the circle of group with countless shots in the center—which is literally a recipe for a disastrous night. Seokjin is about to wave him off, intending to focus on your well being instead, but that is seriously the last thing you want to do right now. All you need is alcohol—lots of them and avoid whatever internal conflict you are having since that’s what you do best. Hence, you pull the older guy closer to the group cheering them on, forcing him to sit down beside you. 

“Hey, we don’t have to do this if you are not comfortable.” Seokjin consoles, his hands smoothing on your thigh. 

“But I want to!” You fake a cheer, pretending to sound enthusiastic. “I haven’t done this in a long time. I wanna do this again.”

Jimin—one of the other frat brothers, is counting the people and after clicks his tongue in dissatisfaction. “We need one more. Hey, Jungkook, come here!”

You quickly snap your head towards your so-called best friend, who just came out from the kitchen from your previous unpleasant encounter. Just a glance and you can see how messed up he looks right now. Jungkook seriously was about to flip Jimin off, instead wallowing himself in sadness and regret. But seeing you sitting in the circle, he gets no other choice but to accept the offer. All that he can think about is the annoying frat buddies of his who might force you to do the things you despise, along with your occasional social anxiety that might ruin everything for you. He will never forget himself if they happen without him there, when he had the opportunity to. He’ll do it, regardless of your current distaste for him.

“Okay! So we are going to play Never Have I Ever!” Jimin shouts, and your stomach dips in nerves. God, are you seriously going to do it? But then you feel a certain concerned stare is directed towards you, and your pride forces you to act nonchalant. You are not going to let Jungkook think he needs to babysit you again. The previous thing in the kitchen is humiliating enough, you don’t need another second. 

“It’s the usual. if you have done it before, drink a shot! Don’t worry, we have abundant alcohol supply and our dearest freshmen right here, kindly volunteer to refill the glasses.” You emphatically look amongst the fellow freshmen, standing outside the circle with bottles of alcohol in their hands. God, this reminds you why frat people are seriously the worst.

“I’ll start! Okay. Never have I ever sexted someone during class.”

A series of groans are heard in the circle, few people—some that you know are Taehyung, Hoseok, and even the smartest of the frat boys, Namjoon bottoms up their respective drinks. Seriously? They pay tuition to sext during class. What a disgrace.

And of course Jungkook’s glass is empty too. What did you expect?

Next is Hoseok. “Never have I ever faked an orgasm before!”

Well, that one is on you, but you are just glad to be able to finally drink. And damn is it good to finally have alcohol buzzing inside your system—it’s been way too long. After drinking his own, Seokjin offers to exchange your empty glass into a full one. You send a thankful smile his way.

“Never have I ever sent a nude to someone.”

Well, that's correct on your previous relationship with a dickhead in your high school. Wow, you feel the slight kick, but since your tolerance is quite high, your tongue still craves for more.

“Never have I had a threesome before.”

Your eyes curiously find Jungkook, as he bottoms up his third glass of the game, with only a few of the people there drink—Jungkook, Taehyung, Jimin and one of the unknown girls. Not that you did not expect it, but you find yourself mildly uncomfortable and somehow disappointed with the facts. He is Jungkook. You should have known it.

“Never have I ever roleplay mommy / daddy kink during sex.”

You detect Seokjin shyly drinking his glass, and you fake a gasp. The alcohol on your spine and the great atmosphere are a success in bringing up your mood. “Wow, I knew it! It’s all so clear, you must have daddy kink!” You let out a belly laugh as he softly pinches your waist, still abashed to the new found fact. What you miss is Jungkook shooting daggers both your ways and Taehyung on his side giving him a few comforting taps on the back.

“Never have I ever liked someone else when I was in a relationship!”

The question somehow kills every fun you have, as you silently recall your previous relationships. There was definitely something on your mind, but you quickly pushed them back. No. It did not make sense and still does, and it was something you chose to bury a long time ago. Pretending it never exists is way easier.

But when you straighten your back to regain your sense, your eyes instantly find Jungkook sipping on his alcohol whilst glaring at you, before throwing his back and bottoming it up. Not only that, even after he slams the glass back on the table he is still giving you the same intent stare. What does he want from you? If he is trying to mess with your mind it is not working—so you faked nonchalance, waiting for the next question, yet your mind is busy thinking about who might be on the receiving end of Jungkook’s feelings while he was in a relationship with his bitch of an ex.

The game goes on for another round, and boy was it a mess. As time goes by, the questions are getting out of hand, until a point you seriously think you need to see your therapist due to how traumatic the questions are. During the game you only drink five glasses, which is still not enough for you—and Seokjin, who apparently has a great alcohol resistance as well. The game ended when Hoseok and Taehyung were hugging each other with two bottles of vodka between them, noisily faking smooches sound to each other.

When Seokjin offers to walk away from the rainsacked table, one of the friends whom you recognize as Yoongi holds him back with a tactful smile. “Hey, Seokjin! I’m bored, Let’s play!”

“Yoongi, I think that’s enough play. I think me and Y/N are just going to talk.” Seokjin calmly refuses, when Jungkook comes to Yoongi's side, resting his arm on the smaller man with his face bright red, looking totally buzzed.

“Ugh, that’s so boring! Why don’t we just play a game!”

You snort when you can smell his breath reeking with booze. No wonders though, he only missed two shots during that godforsaken game. “Jungkook—”

“No! I want to play!” He childishly pouts again. Here goes Jungkook acting like a nine year old whenever he is drunk. You roll your eyes agitatedly. Can he grow up already? “I want to beat you and this boyfriend of yours. Let’s play beer pong!”

“That’s a great idea, Jungkook! I think for the prize the winner can ask the loser for anything.” Yoongi shows his gummy smiles forming a smirk. Seokjin was about to discard the offer when his friend cleverly ignited another fire. “What, you don’t think you can win? Or do you just don’t get the nerves to? Too scared to be beaten down in front of your girlfriend?”

Somehow the conversation is loud enough that it attracts people, and now everyone is wooing the provocative statement from Yoongi. He has been silent throughout the previous game, and you don’t even know why he is so keen about playing beer pong with you and Seokjin. Can’t he just ask someone else instead? But you are assured, since one thing you learned from athletes like Seokjin, he is not easily provoked by such cheap statements. 

“You are on.” He grimaces as you gape, not expecting the sudden plottwist. How can he just approve? Damn him, you seriously do not want anything to do with these frat boys! “But I swear to god if you lose, I am going to force you to kiss this manchild for fucking five minutes in front of everybody.”

“Well that’s not really a punishment if I will enjoy it, but go on.” Jungkook drunkenly shouts, Yoongi palpably shudders beside him. The crowd laughter goes wild, as other freshmen—you seriously really feel bad for them now—sets up the red solo cups on the table. Your head spins in confusion, as you literally have not once played beer pong before. It’s a lost cause, and you are going to be punished by those evil spawns!

“Seokjin, I seriously can’t play for shit!” You hisses in worry while Seokjin smiles as an assurance.

“No worry, Y/N. I am a reigning champion of beer pong is this godforsaken frat. We will surely win.” He holds you by the shoulder. You send a judging gaze to Jungkook as he pretends to look nonchalant, confidently rubbing his palm together. Damn, you really want to smack him in that idiotic drunk ass face of his. What a jerk! You just hope Jin is truly as good as he claims, because if not, you are completely, utterly fucked. And not even a good one.

The first thing you did wrong was to believe Seokjin is just as good as his words, because Yoongi—who you just knew is the captain of the basketball team—completely triumphs him through every shot. And you already in peace with the fact that your aiming skill is the worst thing that could happen to you, so there goes scoring zero. That bastard Jungkook, somehow amidst the drunkenness is able to score a lot as well—probably due to the fact that he also plays football. Now that you think about it, the game itself does not make sense. And not only that you lose, the glasses you shove down your throat are quite a lot, to the point you can finally feel the buzz of alcohol in your spine. Just fucking perfect!

“Yes! We win!” Jungkook gleefully shouts, seeing the last red cup in front of your table has the shiny yellow ball in it. Seokjin sighs in defeat, quickly taking the last glass and drinking it, completely forfeited. You groan, rubbing your aching temple. This is gonna be rough.

“Wow! Do we finally have the winner here?!” Yoongi shouts with mirth, as the crowd woo. “Well, I don’t want to hold you back, let’s cut to the chase, shall we? I am just giving you a taste of your medicine. You can now make out with the bride.” Everyone snickers, and you are too shy to even look at Seokjin. “But we don’t want porn here, so just three minutes?”

“Are you okay with this? I can make him stop.” Seokjin asks calmly, as Yoongi snickers about his friend’s cringey thoughtfulness. Well now that everyone’s looking at you, you ain’t really got any choice, right? So you hesitantly nod as a permission, before Seokjin encloses his lips on you, and all you can sense is the deafening shouts of the crowd.

And Jungkook’s deflated back while exiting the room.

*

Two hours after the last disastrous beer pong and a three-minutes exhibitionist makeout session with Seokjin, you are shocked to still find yourself sitting at the frat party. Seokjin has asked you multiple times if you want to head home, but you refuse, feeding him lies about somehow still enjoying the party. Truthfully, you don’t even know what he is holding you back. You stopped drinking after the game, instead drinking lots of water to avoid a bad hangover in the morning. The party is dull, especially when you are no longer drinking and alone—Seokjin is asked by a few fellow final year friends to join them for a drink outside, so you assure him you’ll be okay staying back. All you do now is keep an eye on your so-called best friend, shoving alcohol down his throat like there’s no tomorrow. There were few girls around him, but the way Jungkook was not having it and instead focusing on the drinks—his nonchalance probably bore them so they fled, locking on other frat boys as targets. It is only Taehyung now with him, who looks just as drunk as he is. Literal dumbasses.

Amongst the loud bass thumping inside the room, your phone vibrates. You quickly excuse yourself from a couple who is now making out beside you—god, you seriously thought the girl was interested in talking to you before, but now she just ignores you while shoving her tongue down the boy’s throat!—and walks out to pick up the call. Against your expectation, it is Jungkook’s brother, Junghyun on the other side of the call..

“Y/N! Y/N, I am so glad you pick up!” Junghyun shouts loudly, sounds greatly relieved after listening to your greetings. You chuckle, realize it has been quite a long time since you heard from him. You desperately need to visit him sometimes, instead of constantly hanging out with his idiot younger brother.

“Hey, do you know where Jungkook is? We actually have to fly to Busan tomorrow morning, so we expect him to be home now. He even brought the car with him!” Junghyun shouts filled with stress, then you scrunch your eyebrow in confusion. He will fly tomorrow morning, so why did he even bother to come to the party? You scoff in disbelief.

“Yes, oppa. I am in the same party with him, but he is not looking real good.” You answer, looking inside the frat house. Well, not that his brother is unaware of Jungkook’s current trait of drinking and partying—not that he supports it—but you just think that he would be more responsible in his choices, and the your disappointment at him is vivid as a day. Making his family worried, all because he just wants to party which he nearly does every week? It’s shallow even for him. “But I’ll get him home now, no worries.”

Junghyung release a relieved sigh. “You’re a lifesaver, thank you!”

After a shot goodbye, you close the call and furiously march inside the frat house, right to Jungkook’s side. He is still drinking, but now looking severely drunk while unreasonably laughing with Taehyung, and now Jimin as an addition. Three drunk guys are never a good combination. “Jungkook, you fucking idiot, let’s go home!” 

With that Taehyung whistle loudly, tapping Jungkook on the back fervently, pepping him. “It’s Y/N! God, finally she is asking you to get something-something!” You scrunch your eyebrows at the drunk ass guy with a reddened face. You are earnestly curious for what booze he is having so you can avoid drinking it forever.

“You want to go home? Let’s go home, babygirl.” Jungkook lowly whispers whilst standing up, but before you can even react to such provocative words, he limps—probably dizzy from consuming too much alcohol. You circle his arms on your shoulder, helping him cause you are certain he is unable to walk on his own now.

Limping to the outside of the house at the best speed you can do, you find his car is parked a few meters from where you both stand. You grumble, swearing that you would keep a tab in every kindness you give to this unthankful moron. 

“Hmm, you smell nice.” Jungkook whispers, the tip of his nose settles on the crook of your neck, brushing it to your skin repetitiously as he hums in delight. All of a sudden you feel like it is hard to breath, your nape hair standing from such impulse. Damn, how can he take so much reaction out of you? It’s totally unfair! “I love your smell, babygirl. I wish I could smell you everyday.”

“Jungkook, I smell like booze, smoke and sweat. And what the fuck is wrong with you!” You hiss, trying to calm your irregular heartbeat. And you can always trust Jungkook to somehow flirt with you in the middle of his drunken antics. “I need to get you home, Jungkook. Don’t make me throw you on the street, okay?”

Listening to your cold answer, Jungkook pouts, his arms fold on his chest. The luring persona he had is now replaced to the childish one, and you can’t believe you have to deal with it now. “You are being a meanie to Jungkook! You have to apologize!”

Boy did he mean it, because he is now refusing to enter the car until you apologize. You sigh in distress — but some part of you do enjoy the cute banter with your drunk best friend. You are definitely going to tease him about this after he is sober.  “Okay! I apologize, Jungkook. I won’t throw you away, and I will get you home safely. Satisfied?” He nods with a foolish smile.

Then you realize that you don’t know where he places his car keys at, so you ignore the warning in your head and search his pockets, trying to disregard that he is wearing tight-ass pants that force you to feel him up somehow. God, you can’t even shake the embarrassment creeping to your cheek. Where the hell is that key?!

“Y/N, do you seriously want to do it here? I want out first time to be in bed, please.” Jungkook politely says, like he did not just imply about sleeping with you — instead asking for a candy. You whimper, greatly embarrassed even if you know it’s only a drunken act. He does not mean it in any way possible, so the flutters inside your heart should stop! You curse yourself, despising how his words are now affecting your wellbeing.

After finding the key in his left back pocket, you open the door to him and he kindly obeys, but you take the chance and purposefully hit him in the head with the door. Serves him right! As Jungkook winces while bearing the physical pain, you gladly saunter to the driver's side, turning on the car and heading it to Jungkook’s address—which you already remember like your own, located not really far from university.

Few minutes pass in silence, so you think Jungkook already fell asleep, when a sudden question is heard and throws you away to shock.

“Do you like kissing Seokjin?”

“What the fuck—” You look at him, thinking he is joking but you find him staring back at you, eyes dead serious while his face is painted with no trace of mirth whatsoever. It sends you jitter and nerves all over your body. “Jungkook, I don’t understand why you are asking that.”

“I just want to know if he is a good kisser or not.”

“He doesn’t need to be a good kisser to make me like kissing him.”

You heard Jungkook’s breath hitched like it’s so hard to believe. “So you like kissing him?”

“That’s beside the point, Jungkook. I am just stating a fact cause your logic is flawed.”

You most definitely underestimated the level of distressfulness in his question when Jungkook literally growls, not liking the mind games you are playing on him. “I’m serious. Do. you. like. kissing. him. or not!”

“I don’t know why you are asking that, since it’s literally you who asks for the fucking beer pong game. Not to mention, it’s you who wants me to bone this guy, Jungkook.” You whisper, reminding him of the day he offers you to come to Hoseok’s birthday party. “That question is weird, I am not answering that.”

“I regret that day, everyday…” You hear him mutter silently while looking outside the window. You quickly warn yourself to avoid overthinking it. It’s unhealthy, and you’ve been here before! Better to turn off your feelings before everything gets messy on your side.

“Why do you even have to be bad at beer pong?! It’s just shooting fucking ball to a cup. How bad can you be to not even score a point?!” Jungkook childishly huffs, and you take a few deep breaths to stop yourself from landing a punch to his devilishly handsome drunk face. What you are going to do is ignore him, like an adult you truly are.

But the silence is too much and you just want to talk to him, hence opening up a new topic. “Jungkook, you know you have to leave for Busan tomorrow. You shouldn’t be partying the day before. Have you even packed?”

Jungkook looks at you and sighs, like he is mentally and physically drained—well, as he should from drinking that much. “How can I, when there’s a chance you are going to the party as well.”

You raise your eyebrow, unsure. “What are you saying?”

Jungkook scoffs in disbelief when grasping how clueless you actually are. “I don’t know what fucking Seokjin has asks you to believe, but I am still your best friend, Y/N.  Since we were kids. I know you like the back of my hand, I know how you hate parties, how you dislike being around strangers, and I know how dangerous it is to be with these frat boys.”

He pauses. “And frankly, I just can’t trust Seokjin. Even with ten years of friendship, I’m still finding new, wonderful things about you and you expect me to trust a fucker who only knows you for a month? Seriously. I only trust myself to be capable of taking care of you.”

The sincerity in his words and gaze, how determined he is with his words seriously blinded your sanity—this part of you trying to assure that what he says is strictly platonic. Your heart is beating so fast it is literally painful to even breath, all the butterflies in your stomach fly without a care in the world. Does he really mean it? Do you even want to know what he means by the words?

The rest of the way passes in tense silence, both of you busy in each of your thoughts, and the car already approaches the street of his house. You sigh, putting on the break when you finally arrive in front of his house lane. “This is it, Jungkook. Go home, get some sleep. Don’t forget to eat some aspirin, and please wake up in time for your flight.”

Jungkook somberly nods, clicking his seatbelt off. You were about to say something, anything about addressing the elephant inside the car—to confirm whether he meant his words, whether he is indeed jealous of the punishment kiss with Seokjin. But then he beats you to it.

“Can I ask you one thing? And please promise me you will answer this.” He stares at you, and you hesitatingly hum as an answer, the tension is hard to miss.

“Answer me truthfully. Do you like kissing him? Seokjin, I mean.”

You sigh, not believing how still hung up Jungkook is on the matter. “Jungkook—”

“I know you like this guy so much, Y/N. I don't even want to ask that. I just want to know if you like the kiss. I wish this guy sucks in kissing, at least let me live with that.”

You look up to him, cheeks turning vermillion as he braves himself to look into your eyes. Your heart swells in pride, thinking how important it is to confirm that to you. God, has he really been this cute before?

“It was okay.” 

Listening to your answer, Jungkook smiles widens from ear to ear, like he is completely over the moon with okay as an answer. “Just okay? Not mind blowing whatsoever?” 

“It was okay.” You repeat, not confirming nor denying his latter question, but Jungkook still looks pleased with just the same answer. The manchild then hums, throwing both his arms around you, enveloping you into a hug so close like he never wants to let go. After a good minute he finally lets go, still with a million-dollar smile on his face and... rests his forehead on yours, closing his eyes as he breathes your scent in. This time, you are definitely sure you are going to schedule a slot with a cardiologist because there must be something wrong with your heart for beating that fast. There must be. And then his eyes flutter open, showing a strained gaze filled with anonymous emotion. 

“Are you going to be mad if I were to kiss you now?”

At Jungkook’s hushed questions, the temptation to taste his lips and comply with his request has you blinded, so you let go of your sanity and approve with a shy nod. The realistic side of you is quickly shut down as you don’t want to argue with it now. All you are thinking and craving about is to kiss him, or else you are going to die.

As his lips advances, the kiss finally happens. You can vividly feel the fireworks light up inside your chest—a strange yet wonderful feeling, the first time you ever feel this away while kissing someone. Jungkook’s lips are soft, touching you slowly like he is testing the waters. After he feels your careful reply, he sends more pressure, slowly but sure savoring your lips like he is taking his dearest time with you. Boy did he taste amazing—like a good whiskey, even if it’s probably all on him. The kiss feels amazing, yet you find yourself getting impatient with how it progresses, since all you can think is to feel him close. God, you must have lost your mind.

“Patience, pumpkin.” He teases, and you can feel a sleazy smile formed on his lips. You snort in annoyance, but he unexpectedly uses it to his advantage, stealthily shoving down his tongue inside your mouth cave. You gasp when the taste of alcohol kicks in, but is content nevertheless. You can’t even describe how good it is to have him close, your fingers entangled in his beautiful oak brown silk hair, his hands tightly encircled on your waist. How did you even think about spending a lifetime without kissing him?

“God, can I have you now? But I hate doing it in the car—I want our first time to be special.” 

Somehow, his desperate words instantly sobers your lust-clouded head, viciously taking you back to reality. So he really thinks of you that easily. And like you are saved by the bell, his brother appears from inside the house, probably realizing that the car has arrived but yet to show his brother—for a bit way too long. You curtly shove him away, heading outside the car before slamming the door vigorously. Of course. Of fucking course that is going to happen! What do you expect? He kisses you once and is finally ready to take your hand in marriage? You should’ve known better than to fall for the same tricks he played on those dumb girls. He even does it while drunk, for god sake. You should’ve known better!

With heavy self-disappointment you quickly open your phone, opening an app to order your ride home. All you want to do is now wail in sadness, and promise yourself to never let that happen again. You are too focused on your plan to flee, so when you feel Jungkook’s touch against your skin, you instinctively flinch. You can see how pained he is to see your reaction closing him off, yet you keep your mouth shut, not wanting to say even a word to him. The more you think about what just happened, the stronger the ache you feel, so you decided to just stop trying. You desperately need some time alone.

“Y/N! You are here. Thank you so much from bringing Jungkook home. This kid never learns, I swear.” Junghyun smiles, nonchalant to the tense air between you and Jungkook. You put up a fake smile of reassurance to the older guy, shrugging his worry.

“Are you going home? I can drive you, just let me take this guy in first.” Junghyun kindly offers, but you quickly recide. How can you do that when just in a few hours they are going to fly to Busan? They are seriously too kind.

“I ordered my taxi, it will arrive soon, oppa. No worries!” You brightly smile, not minding the obvious stares of Jungkook on your skin. You thank your lucky stars after the white taxi of your choice gladfully is near enough, and the blinding light of the taxi car lamp finally allows you to breathe. “It’s here!”

“Hyung, please take the details of the taxi, will you?” 

While entering the taxi you hear Jungkook’s subtle request to his brother, yet you pretend to be clueless, since it is better this way. You can’t. You shouldn’t. You don’t want to mess with the things you have now. You are so conflicted you don’t even know what to do with yourself.

“Text me when you get home.” Jungkook rigidly murmurs and you nod with the same manner. The taxi finally moves, and after a few seconds of total silence, you find the tears you have been holding for a while finally free, raining down on your cheeks.

*

Finally ending the fateful night, you arrive in your apartment and cry yourself to sleep. You feel betrayed, you feel dirty, you feel played and used. You do not know what has gotten into you to seriously think you are special to Jungkook, but that’s definitely not the case since he just caught up in the moment and just needed you to wet his dick. After that, you are going to ruin a ten year old friendship just because you can’t keep your feelings in hand like he can’t keep his dick inside his pants. You should’ve seen it coming—but now the damage is done, there is no use of regretting the things you can’t change. Yet ever since that day you can’t even sleep, eat, study, or basically do anything without thinking about him.

Especially since in the morning he left for Busan, he informed you through a message that he will be there for a week, and after that he needs to talk to you. You haven’t even replied, leaving him only on read even if that’s basically what you are thinking about night and day. What is he going to say? Is he going to reject you? Is he going to say how disgusted he is for that night? Is he going to tell you should not be friends anymore? There are countless scenarios playing in your head, and not even one is as what you wish it would be. Just an endless count of rejection and humiliation.

So the night before he is coming back, you are seated coated in your blanket in your apartment, right in front of your TV even though you don’t even know what show is playing. You are just zoning out, racking your brains for reasons that you need to say to Jungkook to avoid meeting him tomorrow. Do you just pretend you are sick? Or can you bail on him? But thinking about Jungkook, waiting alone in a cafe makes you sad and guilty, so you immediately cancel that last option. God, what are you going to do?

Too invested in your thoughts, you do not notice Lia is just in front of you. You finally acknowledge her presence when after she is now waving a plastic of delicious smelling food in front of your face. “Hey, earth to Y/N!” She calls you again, the agitation builds up for the past week of being ignored by her own roommate.

“Honey, seeing you like this makes me sad.” She sighs, resting the plastic on the desk. “I brought offering food, and with this I hope you can finally tell me what’s wrong.”

You sigh, realizing how annoyed she must be seeing you like this. You have been closed off on her as well, keeping the event from a week ago only for yourself. It just doesn’t feel right talking about it with someone Jungkook admitted he likes… Which suddenly pops an idea inside your brilliant head. God! How can you not think of it before?!

You widely let out an ear-to-ear smile which frankly scares Lia due to the drastic change of mood. But you couldn't care less. You need to do this, to save the remaining pieces of your friendship with Jungkook and give him a helpful hand as well.

“Lia, honey, can you please help me with something?”

*

Jungkook arrives at Gimpo International Airport at 5.40pm, along with his parents and brother. After going back for the wedding of his relatives, every new day he can’t wait to finally be back in Seoul. He is worried as hell about you, since he is aware that he did make a mistake that night—he scares you with his overwhelming feelings, but he promises himself to make things right. He would be crazy to let you go that easily. Jungkook definitely felt something from you that night—there is a glimpse of hope that you somehow like him too, and now he is helplessly hanging on to that rope.

After telling you he needed to see you after he got back, you left him on read for a few days and he had to confess that he was so moody and off during those days, constantly pissing everyone around him. But how can he not? He thought he lost his chance. What if Seokjin took those days to convince you how much better of a man he is than him? What if you had enough of him and dump his ass? Or worse, what if you think you can no longer even be friends? Those thoughts constantly bothered him, but when you message time and place to meet him, he feels comforted. He trusted you—you are much better of a person than what his pessimistic mind forced him to believe.

So when his flight arrives, he directly goes to take the train instead of going with his family’s car, heading to the restaurant you informed. As you informed him about the dinner—7pm reservation, he carefully calculated his ETA. Jungkook is a bit confused due to your choice of place—you don’t really fancy Mexican food, but he pays no heed as what he can only focus is what he is about to say and the gift he thought thoroughly and carefully before, secured on his backpack. Jungkook silently smiles. He is going to make this right.

Exactly an hour arrival, he is now in the area of the restaurant. He quickly hitch a taxi, asking the driver to drive as fast as he can since his plan was to arrive first before you. The hope grows dimmer as seconds pass, especially when his taxi is caught in the middle of a traffic jam. Jungkook groans, there is no hesitation that he will be late. He quickly send you an apology by text, in which you do not even read—adding more anxiety to his already existing one.

After a few minutes which passes like a thousand years, he finally arrives in the said restaurant. He slaps a few bills at the driver, not even waiting for a change as he runs inside, nervously tapping his foot after mentioning your name as a reservation. His heart is beating fast, his palms turn clammy, and he feels jittery all over his body. God, the feeling has already been too long to even remember. But he can’t deny that it indeed feels nice. It feels amazing to care and have real emotions this deeply about someone.

Instead of finding the face he has been thinking of night and days, he finds a completely different woman, sitting nervously on the table. He is too overwhelmed to even speak.

“You—What are you doing here?!”

Jungkook can’t even believe his eyes. It’s Lia, your best friend, sitting on the table right now. All at once, his head spins followed by a sudden nausea bubbling up his throat from the great shock. He has been expecting you—to see your face again waiting for him with a smile, to tell you how much you mean to him, to finally confess and give him a gift he carefully picks out for you—but instead you set him up for dinner with your best friend, without letting either of them know. He feels rejected, a wave of sadness crashing at him that he can only weakly sit down, his legs nearly giving him up. He is now mourning on so-selfless yet so idiotic action you do him.

“God, Y/N asked me for dinner together, and he actually set me up with you? What the fuck?!” Lia flares angrily, taking her phone and fervently dialing up your number. Seeing how ugly it can get, Jungkook takes the phone away, closing the call. “What are you doing?!” She hisses.

“I.. I accidentally lied to her that I like you instead of her when she caught us meeting that morning.” Jungkook whispers, his throat too dry for catching up in the sadness. “And now she is setting us up together.”

“God, it all makes sense now! She actually asked me how I feel about you, and knowing you like her, I put good words. Could it be that she thinks I like you too?” She gasps, but Jungkook is already too numb in the feeling. “God, she is such a moron sometimes!”

“That’s okay. It’s just clear now. I know she does not have any feelings for me, and she might be too afraid to say so. She is probably already with Seokjin now.” Jungkook bitterly whispers, trying to uphold his voice yet it still wound him so fucking bad. Of course that is it. Seokjin is a whole perfect package for a man, not a child with zero emotional capacity like him. He must be drunk to even think about competing with that man.

“No, that's not it..” Lia shakes her head fervently at Jungkook’s helpless posture. “I believe she broke up whatever relationship she had with Seokjin. Don’t tell her you know this from me, but they kinda did it in our apartment hallways a few days ago and I accidentally—well not really accidental but that’s not the point—heard! I thought she was extremely quiet and sad because of that!”

He is confused, he really is, but now he knows the fact, there must be something he has not known yet. “Are you sure?” Jungkook rises up to his seat, strangely motivated. Not that he wants to take advantage of your odd break up with Seokjin for his personal advantage, he just wants to be there for you — like what best friends would do.

“Are you okay if I leave you now?” Jungkook kindly asks, and Lia shoo him away boredly, eyes already skimming on the menu.

“Don’t need no boys helping me eat, but you owe me a lot after this, bro. You get it?” With a nod of confirmation and a short smile, Jungkook quickly heads to the place he knew he would find you.

*

You don’t even know what you are doing, seated in the usual coffee shop you always visit with Jungkook. You have been sitting in the cafe for nearly two hours, munching on the countless foods you order from the menu, yet you can’t hold back the obnoxious, ugly feeling in your chest — especially when the barista is asking where Jungkook is when you ordered your usual. It’s literally on you—you were the one setting up both your best friends who greatly deserve and like each other together, so why is it so painful to face the possibility that they are having a nice date in her favorite Mexican restaurant right now?

Great. Now you are crying. God, you must look hideous, no make up, alone with plates of food in front of you. You can’t even imagine what people must be thinking about you right now, since even you are disgusted with yourself.

“I better go home.” You sigh, ready to pick the bill when a soft bell tingling is heard and you do not know whether you can believe your eyes or not, but it signals Jungkook’s entrance. He is wearing a dark blue sweater you bought him for his birthday a year ago, walking pensively to your table. Just looking at him immediately quickens your heartbeat, too loud you can distinctly hear it rings in your ear. What is happening? Why is he here, not more than an hour in the date? That look—Is he mad at you?

“Y/N, before I am going to be angry at you for setting me up with your best friend, I want to hit pause. Okay?” He calmly speaks, resting his bag on the floor. You look at him with teary eyes, still shocked for only his presence so you hesitantly nod. 

“Are you okay? After Seokjin, I mean. I heard about it.” Jungkook whispers, trying for a slow approach to the said matter. You don’t even know how he knows, yet you don’t really care.  “I’m sorry.”

You finally gather your courage to let out your voice, eyes still training on your lap. “Don’t be. It’s hard, but I’m okay. We just realize it wasn’t meant to be.”

“Do you want a hug?” Jungkook good-naturedly offers like it's the most usual thing to do inside a coffeeshop, and you can’t hold the chuckle which he follows. “We always hug it out whenever we are sad. I don’t know about you, but it always works for me. Your hugs are the best.”

You know he probably does not imply anything, so you nod, because you are desperately in need of your best friend’s hug right now. When everything is hard, it feels nice to have someone who completely understands and is willing to listen, instead of telling you what you need to do. That’s the kind of friendship you have with him, and you are thankful neither of you has given up on each other even with the constant fights.

After a good ten minutes just having each other close in a hug—his arms secured around your shoulder while you lean your head on his annoyingly sturdy chest—you let your best friend go. “God, we must be looking like two moron right now.” You whisper, noticing a few glances are thrown at your table and Jungkook snickers, agreeing with your comment. You snort. “More like because you look like a fucking idol and I look a hobo. Thanks for that, by the way.”

“Hey, I just arrived from Busan and I directly come here without even changing.” He pouts and you chuckle, feeling the butterflies vividly knocking on your stomach. He helps you asking for the bill, and when it arrives, he directly gives the waiter his card and you angrily shove him away.

“Jungkook, if you pay for the food you don’t even touch, I swear to god—”

“But it's my turn to pay!” He protests and you roll your eyes.

“It’s not, because you did not even eat a thing.”

He quickly munch on the leftover fries, giving the waiter his card and pushing the confused man away before you can snatch the card back. You hiss, seriously feeling guilty for letting him pay for the whole thing. “God, I am starving! Can I eat this?” He asks, munching on your half eaten pasta without waiting for you. You just stare at him, happily eating your food and you can’t hold down the smile.

“Can I have this coffee too?” He politely asks, pointing at your black coffee and you sigh. 

“Jungkook, once again I tell you, you do not like black coffee. I’ll just order you anything.” You are about to call the waiter again when he holds you back.

“I like everything you like, Y/N. I think this goddamn coffee has grown on me.”

But he is completely bullshitting you—and probably himself because as his lips touch the glass to take a sip, he instinctively grimaces at the strong, bitter taste. Gosh, an idiot and somehow you still call him your best friend.

“Jungkook, do you want me to order you a banana milkshake?” You kindly offer like the coffee thing did just not happen, and he answers with a 1000 watt smile that leaves you strangely speechless.

“My hero.”

After exactly another hour talking about the cousin’s wedding he attended a few days ago, both of you and him exit the coffeeshop. You can’t hide your blush when the barista is secretly teasing you with his goddamn eyebrow, not that Jungkook can notice. God, you wish he doesn’t notice.

“Can we walk to your apartment? Are you okay? it’s a little bit cold.” Jungkook worriedly asks, and you nod as an agreement. He smiles serenely at you, his hand runs to fix your messy hair—courtesy of the wind. His fingers delicately put a strand of lost hair to the back of your ear, and smile with all his bunny teeth on display after being satisfied with the result. God, you wish he would not notice how nervous you are right now.

During the short walk filled with comfortable silence, he reaches your hand, tightly intertwining it with his fingers. All the things he does are not special—you nearly do it every time in your so-called platonic friendship, but everything definitely has changed. But the fuzzy feeling quickly turns into nerves when you sense the inevitable talk is coming, as he points to one of the benches in front of your apartment building.

“I am angry at you.”

You look up to him, expecting anger on his face when you found none, instead a thin smile. “You set me up with your best friend. What were you thinking, Y/N?”

“You said you liked her. And I know you need a push to finally do something about it, that’s why I did it.” You guiltily try to defend yourself. Jungkook sighs, suddenly feeling remorse of what the conversation will turn into.

“But.. I don’t know whether we want to discuss this, but here goes—we kissed that night, Y/N. Does it even mean anything to you?” 

And now it is there. The hurt, the frustration, the anger shown on his beautiful doe eyes. You know it is coming — the inevitable confrontation about that night. But how can he even ask such question to you? Doesn’t he know it nearly keeps you awake every night?

“You were drunk, Jungkook. And horny... I was—we were just caught up in the moment.”

He scoffs in disbelief. “I don’t know about you, but I was not just caught up in the moment.” Jungkook curtly answers, taking a deep breath of courage. He hopes he doesn’t mess up everything and end up chasing you away yet again.

“Can’t you see it, Y/N? I like you. I like you so much for how it seems like a long time ago, but idiot me, somehow I just realize everything now.”

At his answer, your head feels like it is about to explode. But you are too scared, too realistic to even think about the possibility that he may truly mean every word. “You can’t lie to me like that, Jungkook! I am not the girl you can play with like your one night stands. I do not want to be just another number to you.”

“But you're not just another number to me!” He agitatedly hisses, letting his emotions open up on the table. “You think it doesn’t kill me? I think about it nearly everyday. I think about you and Seokjin. I think about you rejecting me. I think about you and our ten years friendship currently on the line. Do you think it has been just a walk in the park for me?”

He takes a deep breath. “I like you, Y/N. I like you so much it kills me for you to close me off that night we kissed. I thought everything was clear—my obvious feelings for you, but just now, you set me up with your best friend. How fucking great!”

The tears welling in your eyes are forcing to come out. “You don’t know how afraid I was, Jungkook. You can’t even imagine how it was for me! I like kissing you—I think I like it a little bit too much—but when you said you wanted to fuck in the car, I felt… I felt disgusted. You were drunk, and I felt like you were just using me for my body, like I’m just another dumb girls who you’ll fuck and never call back. I.. I don’t want to feel that way anymore.”

The statement you let out just brings a whole new guilt on his chest, and he moves to hold you close. “What were you thinking, Y/N. I would never do that to you…”

“How can I think of that? Are you shitting me right now? Jungkook, you slept with at least three girls a week, and you explicitly told me about fucking these girl nearly everyday before. So you expect me to comply and fuck you in that car, ruining our friendship because you only want to fuck me and wet your dick?!”

“Y/N, I swear it is not that. I like you too much, and I got so jealous of Seokjin—I am sorry that I make you feel that way. But I swear to god, at that time I just wanted to show you how much I like you, and I am sorry if it came out that way.”

You take a deep breath, but even doing it suffocates you. “I just need some time. That’s it. Can we… can we just pretend this never happens?” You sigh tiredly, and at your word, Jungkook feels hit with a ton of brick until he is completely numb. You want to disregard everything that happened?

“I am heading upstairs. You.. you can just head home now.” You whisper, and every word coming out hurts you back like it hurts him, but you need this. You need some time to think about everything. You don’t want to hurt yourself again—just seeing him now hurts so fucking bad already. Jungkook is not emotionally ready for you. He just caught up in the moment of drunkenness, and he doesn’t mean it. You should just stop thinking about it.

You are about to leave to cry your eyes to sleep, when you heard him call from behind.

“Here. I bought this for you. Don’t worry, Y/N.  I’ll leave.”

And you can hear the steps of his boots, walking far and far away until it disappears in the  silence. Now that he is not here, you find the wind is ten times colder, and the pain in your chest multiplies a thousand times. It’s only you now, alone with your thoughts. You brave yourself to turn back, seeing a box of chocolate resting on the bench, which then leaves you a crying mess.

It’s the exact chocolate he gave ten years ago to the girls, the one you ate when you saved him from the humiliation he faced. How could he even get this?

To : Y/N

Thank you for saving me again that day. And the day after. And the day after, until today. I owe you my life :)

With love, your vermillion faced favorite person in the world.

Jeon Jungkook.

*

Another week passes, and Jungkook wakes up with a groan inside of his room he shared with Taehyung. God was he trashed last night. His frat was having another party, and he may or may not steal a few bottles and decided to trash himself whilst playing Overwatch—he can’t even remember when or how. His back is killing him for falling asleep with bent back, his face plastered on the keyboard.

He tries to straighten up, but the dizziness from suddenly standing up washes him away that it takes some time to get used to. His lips are as dry as sahara, yet he found no bottle of water that may relieve the thirst—seriously, Jungkook? Stealing two bottles of vodka but forgot to bring up a bottle of water? God he is a moron sometimes.

He walks out of the room, descending to the downstairs with his head still banging painfully due to the bad hangover. He is about to head directly straight to the kitchen, but his steps are paused when he finds Seokjin currently having his breakfast on the table, with… you.

The first thought that comes to his mind is how different you look—you look pale and tired, the dark eyebags are getting prominent and it does look like you haven’t been sleeping well. The thoughts finally come closing when he realizes how awkward the air has become, you, Seokjin and himself on such close distance. Jungkook can’t bear the bitter thoughts of you, having your usual breakfast with Seokjin. God, he must be a bother—so he quickly enters the kitchen, intends to grab a drink and forces himself out of the picture.

“Jung—Jungkook, can we talk? Outside, I mean. I want to tell you something.”

He looks back, not expecting to find you standing up and walking to him to the kitchen. 

“We can. Do we need Seokjin to join as well?” He bitterly shoves the water inside his throat, not even minding how petty he must have sounded. 

“No. No need. I need to talk to you alone.” You beg, internally praying that Jungkook will not make it harder than it already is. All you want to do is say what you needed to say, then run away and bury yourself alive beside the nearest tree. 

Jungkook hums, and follows your hesitant step to the backyard of his frat house. But now that he is seeing you in such close distance, makes him realize that he terribly misses seeing you and talking to you. The week after the confession he let out, he decides to give you the space you deserve—no matter how desperate he is to just send you a message and ask how you’re doing. He can’t even deny that he went to your faculty a few times before, wanting to just see how you are doing even from afar. He knows how cringey and creepy that thought is, but he seriously can’t stand the idea of not having to see your face during those times. Checking up on you is like something he has been doing for ten years now, and he doesn’t intend to stop just because you need your own space.

Now you are standing with him, yet he thoughtfully motion so you can sit on the patio wall. The first touch he gave you since the last encounter, and it successfully turns you ten times nervous than you already are. Will you even be able to say what you need to say when he is right there, looking at you like that?

“Before you say anything, can I ask why are you having breakfast with Seokjin?” He starts, somehow unable to disregard the scene he just witnesses. He doesn’t know why, but he feels somehow sad and anxious that you are spending such an intimate breakfast with him. Sensing that Jungkook is indeed dead serious, and so are you, you decide not to beat around the bush and answer him with the truth.

“It’s nothing. I just wanted to see you and he was there, having his breakfast. He was just being polite.” 

“Jungkook, I want to say I am sorry.” You whisper directly and cut to the chase, intending to look him in the eyes but still failing to do so. All because you are nothing but a nervous pile of mess. “I.. I shouldn’t have done it. I shouldn’t set you up with Lia just because of my insecurities. I thought I was doing you some good, but that was my fault to overstep it. And I shouldn’t have been angry at the thoughts that you were just playing with me—it’s only in my head and I accused you for it. It’s so unfair for you, I.. I want to apologize.”

Both of you fall into deep and tense silence, waiting for the other to speak up. But falling too uncomfortable with the silence, you decide to open your voice again. “Aren’t you going to say anything? Are you still angry at me?”

“Shouldn’t you apologize for one more thing?” Jungkook calmly asks, basking in your appearance once again like it’s never enough. God, are you even eating well? You hesitantly look up, confused with his words. What does he mean by that?

“The way you expect us to forget everything happened.” He winces soundly just by saying the word he refuses to acknowledge since the moment he heard it. Just thinking about the word you said a few nights back still brings fresh pain inside his chest. “That’s actually what hurts me the most. I don’t really care about the other.” You bit your lower lips. Is it just your hallucination or Jungkook seriously asking that?

Jungkook racks his brain, trying to articulate his thoughts yet failing to do so. Then he gives up, letting his heart do the talking instead. “I like you, Y/N. I don’t want to scare you—but I might even be in love with you. These past few years are so clear now. I like you, I always have feelings for you but it was so clouded with any friendly, somehow platonic feelings I thought I have and I don’t know—what happened with us just awakened me, making me realize  that I don’t want anyone else but me to be the one taking care of you.”

The newfound sincerity in his words astonishes you. Your breath hitches, with his words coming in and out of your mind, yet it still feels unsettled. Does he really mean it? 

“I guess I was just too busy with myself, with my own ways of hiding the pain I felt. But I realize, it was not any parties, or meaningless sex or any other things that makes me happy. I thought it was, but it’s not.” Jungkook takes your chin, pleading for you to look up to him. You are too overwhelmed by emotion, and you are thankful he asked you to sit because if you weren’t, your leg would give you away.

“It’s you. It’s always you.” He proclaims, as clear as the sky upon him. “It’s breakfast with you, talking with you everyday, seeing you be happy and be the one causing it. That’s what makes me happy.”

At such sentiment, the tears swimming in the corner of your eyes finally falls, streaming on the side of your cheek. He quickly pulls you close, his head entangles on your hair and your hands basked on his waist tightly, like you are holding it for dear life.  “Jungkook, I am scared. I don’t want to lose you... What if everything goes wrong and then I lost you forever?”

Jungkook kisses the top of your head. God, he is scared beyond words too. But he loves you too much, he believes in what you both have and is ready to take his chances. “We’ll make it through. I can’t promise you much, but I promise I’ll always look out for our best interests. You won’t lose me. I am your best friend before anything, Y/N.”

You nod, somehow assured by his words. You know it’s going to be hard to believe—even your past self would too, but you trust him with all your heart. Jungkook has been one constant thing in your life, and you trust him and are willing to put everything on the line because frankly, you love him, and he loves you. Maybe it’s time to finally be brave enough to face anything and take that risk. Only because it is him.

Another moment of holding each other close when Jungkook fucking opened his mouth and decided to ruin everything. “So.. Can I kiss you now?” He jokingly whispers and you snort, all sappy moments crumbling down to ashes. An amused chuckle somehow did escape your lips, and he pouts. “Hey, let me kiss you, you pretty girl. Seriously, I kissed you once, and god, that’s all I can think of this past week.”

You roll your eyes, heart beating rapidly fast in your chest. You are going to shrug his face away from you, but the moment you can clearly look up to him, you feel warm and giddy. His face is saying everything, shaded vermillion red while shyly looking down on you. A flashback comes inside your head, reminding you about the eleven year old kid with the same shade of vermillion on his face. He is still the same Jungkook you know—the Jungkook you love and wouldn’t trade for anything in the whole world.

His lips advance closer to yours yet you are the one to close the distance between. To have your lips finally touch against his chapped one, you can feel the same firework lights up, only ten times better now that you finally is truthful to your own feeling. God does it feel amazing to feel it to have him against your lips. Both of you are too content with even such innocent kisses, feeling the smile forming in each of your lips, inevitably bringing up a laughter.

“Fucking finally!”

At the loud roar, you quickly push Jungkook until he falls a few steps back, completely shocked beyond words to hear the shouts behind you—which belongs to Taehyung, somehow with Lia shutting him instantly on the mouth. There are few other frat brothers like Jimin and Namjoon as well, smiling meaningfully in front of the door. You shyly duck your head, god, how long have they been standing there? This is embarrassing!

“Are you going to hit them or should I?” You whisper, walking outside from the back door with Jungkook on your side, escaping the loud shouts and woo from the people standing there. Jungkook chuckles with mirth at your reddened abashed face. Is it a good time for him to say how adorable you are right now, with a burst of red coloring your cheek?

“No worries, I will.” He kisses your supple cheek. “But objectively speaking, I do think Lia has rights for that. She is the one helping me to get you since god-knows-when.” Jungkook smiles endearingly, holding you close around the shoulder when it’s finally just the two of you, brushing a kiss on the top of your head. You chuckle knowingly, and Jungkook stops to see you straight on the eye.

“Aren’t you going to ask me when, why or how? I mean about the chasing you thing with Lia.” He asks seriously, yet apparently can’t get his hands far from you as he reaches for your cheek, softly brushing it delicately with his fingers. You hum, somehow content with his touches. God, you sure like him so much it hurts.

“Baby—you’re cute. But actually it’s Lia who convinces me about you.” You chuckle, and Jungkook scrunch his eyebrows, yet still falling shy at the nickname that sounds entirely different now that you are the one saying it to him. “She told me everything. And that’s actually when I realize that I can trust you. With all my heart.”

Jungkook smiles, heart turning warm from your statement and still, the endearing nickname. “On the light note, you called me your baby. Ugh, can I kiss you again, pumpkin?” He cheekily asks, and your hearts light up at the familiar yet so strange nickname that now it feels different to have him as your lover.

You smirks, holding his palm against your cheek, taking in his disheveled, morning appearance once again. He looks extensively cute with his button nose and reddened cheeks, his disheveled morning hair still super inviting to have your fingers running through it. And it is unfair that somehow he looks his best now, better than anything you have seen him before. High chance it is because for you, the best thing for Jungkook to wear is his smile—especially when it’s because of you.

“Not if you have to ask again every time you don’t.”

He smirks and pulls you by the nape, muttering an answer against your smiling lips. He seriously wouldn’t mind doing this every second of the day.

“Deal.”

========

Finally! nearing 25k, wow this is a lot to write. But it was so much fun and i hope you like it! let me know and lets talk :) kindly check my masterlist !

UPDATE #1 : Drabble posted on masterlist! Do check lovelies! <3

UPDATE #2 : Find the Taehyung spinoff, “The Platinum Rules” click here!

[ubemango]

one time, in your room (m)

note: I wrote this after receiving such an enthusiastic response to my virgin!jk drabbles. I really can’t thank you guys enough for expressing interest in this story, it really helped jumpstart lunyua lol 😭😭🥰🥰!!!!!!! I’m happy she’s back:) I would be absolutely nowhere without it heheh. My thank yous are also due to Violet and my crème de la crème for helping me write this back in March--I love you both very, very much!!!!!! Enjoy :D

DISCLAIMER. there’s one scene based off a tweet that I can’t find the link to lol... it’s about getting fingered till u cry. You’ll know when you get there 😭

PAIRING. jeongguk/reader GENRE. romance, college au RATED. M WORD COUNT. 17.3k WARNINGS. alcohol, oral (f receiving), cum shot, fingering, sexting, phone sex/masturbation, face sitting, riding, talks about Babies, jk loving oc A Lot SUMMARY. There are papers to write, and virgins to daydream about. (You can think about Jeongguk’s dick later.)

                                          part 1: emergency tactics

It started five months in.

Jimin probably didn’t mean anything by it. There’s talk and then there’s inebriation, and Jimin slurred roughly between the two like the drunkard he is. But Jeongguk was still hurt and you didn’t know what to do.

“He called me a pussy then told me to fuck one instead,” Jeongguk said under the strobe lights, the plastic ones you buy at the dollar store and you know it’s Hoseok who got them because he’s frugal, not cheap. The couch was itchy under your skirt. “Am I—is it really that bad? Like am I doing this wrong? Am I taking too long, or—”

“No, oh my god. Babe,” you said, and the cooler in your hand found the floor before you cupped his face. He was pouting. “Doing things—like that—it’s—it shouldn’t be something you stress over, okay? Don’t listen to other people. I like you. And Jimin is a whore.”

Jeongguk snorted. You could still see the doubt in his eyes, though. Shiny because he’s tipsy, but that downward droop still there. “You’re the best,” he said as sincere as he could sound.

And he’d left it at that. He got way more drunk though, definitely influenced by his post-teen-pre-adult angst but what’s a 21-year-old supposed to do with ample service of alcohol and an aching heart? You’d left him to it and cleaned the vomit on his shirt after. It was an okay party.

It stayed okay for a bit, too. Jeongguk isn’t an insecure person, but his bouts of uncertainty were getting more and more frequent. Especially when all his friends were naturally horny and really fucking stupid.

“So you’ve been dating for almost eight months and you—still haven’t defiled him,” Jimin says, now absolutely sober and still absolutely dumb.

You can feel Jeongguk’s ears heat up. “Dude.”

Jimin ignores him and turns to you. “Aren’t you like—bored?”

“When will you stop talking,” Jeongguk murmurs through a bite of his burrito bowl.

“I’m not,” you answer Jimin, flipping through another page of a study on birth control. A convoluted piece of shit, as Taehyung put so eloquently, but he left a couple minutes ago for a study group. “And stop bullying him.”

“I’m just shocked,” Jimin continues. “How does someone so hot end up with someone even hotter and like—not immediately participate in procreation. This is a crime!”

“Look.” Your textbook flips closed. “I don’t know what your obsession is with this guy’s dick over here, but it’s mine to worry about.”

“I think you upset her,” Jeongguk says.

“I know what it’s like to be pressured into sex,” you say. You feel Jimin lock up. “Look—sorry, that was baggage and I’m stressed.” Jimin nods. “But seriously? It’s—he’s—Jeongguk’s fine the way he is, alright?”

You taper off. It’s silent save for the milling of other students in the quad, but the air is thick. Sliced through with your anger but you’d rather have this conversation in private, without Jimin and his probing. Unnerving Jeongguk was like lighting the fuse in you, and maybe it was the instinct to preserve whatever purity Jimin keeps insisting on but you’ve never seen your boyfriend so upset about something. It kind of hurt to see him like this.

You get back to taking notes when Jimin talks again. “I’ll go,” he says. “Jeongguk I—”

“It’s fine.” Doesn’t sound like it though because he’s tight-lipped. 

Jimin salutes and sidles away. A bubble of unfinished conversations swells around you.

“Thanks for—that, I guess,” he says.

Your highlighter squeaks against the paper. “Jeongguk.”

“M’yeah?”

“Do you want to have sex with me?”

Maybe that was a bad start because Jeongguk sputters. You think he squawks, too—and he’s definitely fidgeting, lots of cut-off noises in his throat as he tries to say anything coherent. You look at him and he finally takes a breath in. “I—”

“You’re worried.”

His face contorts in confusion. “About what?”

“I don’t know. But I can feel it.”

“Same wavelength,” he laughs. Empty but he knows you’re just trying to help.

“Look.” He doesn’t but that’s because you’ve turned back to your books. “We have sex when we have sex. And if someone tries to—bother you about it, you can tell them they can suck on my fat cock.”

You hear him chortle. “I’ll do that.”

The conversation ends. You study. You still feel Jeongguk fidgeting.

Now there’s three weeks left till the term is over.  

“My—brain. It’s exploding. There’s too much going on.”

Jeongguk’s desk is a cramped space—the only place you can prop your textbook up against is his sweatshirt wrapped into a wrinkly ball. Graciously taken from his hamper because he still hasn’t done his laundry. The chair creaks when you spin to look at him: a dejected blob of comfy clothes surrounded by looseleaf paper and sticky notes. “Break time?”

He slumps against his pillows, arms out like a sad toddler. “Break time.”

This probably means you’ll cuddle for the next three hours but there’s little to complain about when Jeongguk purrs into your hair once you settle into his chest. There’s a warmth to him you can’t get anywhere else. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he huffs. “Just working too hard.”

“Okay,” you murmur. Jeongguk’s breath evens out the way it does when he wants to stop thinking. You can hear the hum of the fridge outside. 

“Want this to be over.”

You trace your nail over his collarbone. “I know.” 

“When’s your awards ceremony?”

“In two weeks,” you say.

“Same time as our final game.”

You lean your head up when he sighs, watching his eyes flutter in the afternoon shade of his curtains. A calmer period right after a hectic schedule of school, because you have Professor Kwon to thank for her excessive meetings about tutorials and assignments. It never occurred to you that you might’ve been imposing when you showed up to Jeongguk’s dorm with your homework, but he’d been studying too. Same wavelength, he’d say.

“Jimin been bothering you lately?”

“No, thank god. Don’t think I could take anymore prodding.”

This is the first time you’ve asked since that afternoon in the quad, though now Jimin’s been less annoying whenever you see him with Jeongguk. You know he’s just itching for your boyfriend to finally get his dick wet. 

And you can’t blame him—that was his intention when he finally got Jeongguk to ask you out. Friendship with Jeongguk was a weird stretch of time, especially when he’d spent the entirety of it silently pining for you: involuntarily single, but so preoccupied with the care and keeping of your GPA you’d been blind to any advance. Not that he tried anything, though. 

He’d been in his second year, still getting used to the enormity of campus grounds as a scholarship-bound athlete. And on top of all his schoolwork he had to balance the fragility of having a crush on an upperclassman well on her way to PhD candidacy. It was a good thing he was cute, though, and Jimin had no qualms about embarrassing Jeongguk any chance he got when you were around. The blush when Jimin had pushed him to your desserts table at one of the indoor Farmers’ Markets still burns in the furthest love-lit corner in your mind.

“You remember when you asked me out?”

“God.” A too-late night in the library that prompted the chivalrous part in Jeongguk because he’d brought you to the bus stop too close for campus police to escort you. You’d been good friends for a while already, the hurdle of skirting around each other knocked down when Jeongguk finally got the guts to insert himself in the your friend circle. In that wet shelter, a quivering lip. The sure that now has you seven-and-a-half months down the line with arguably the best thing that’s happened to you since you started your college career, but you won’t tell him that. “Why are you bringing that up?”

“I don’t know. Just—feels like forever ago.”

“Sappy.”

“Maybe the stars are aligning,” you say.

“Is that a good thing?”

“I don’t know, just. Sometimes when I lie down with you I feel like I have to—lay myself bare.”

“Then bare yourself.”

You pause. “I’d like to suck your dick.”

“I’m gonna—I’m gonna need you to elaborate,” Jeongguk says like he’s winded.

“Two weeks of me finishing assignments and you at hockey practice. You know. Take advantage of the time we have with each other.”

“Good point. But I have a counter offer.”

Jeongguk is always a giver. “Which is?”

“I eat you out instead.”

“You’re too good to me,” and this is the only response you can come up with without sounding too shocked. Or horny. Not that you’d ever shy away but Jeongguk had a way of burning you up from the inside. “You’re down for that?”

“Always,” he says, then rolls you over. All that muscle from his workouts barring you from even thinking about fighting him back so you let him push you till you’re comfortable. But this isn’t about you. Not at the moment, anyway. 

“Take your shirt off.” Jeongguk does this so quickly his face almost crashes into yours when he comes back down, gasping a laugh that he breathes into you when his mouth meets yours. A quick tangle of your legs around his waist has him lying over you with ease, caught in his cage of pressed-down elbows and intimacy. 

“Wanna—take care of you.” He trails his mouth down your neck, bed squeaking when his knees pad down. Lips tasting lower and now he lifts your shirt up to your chest, pressing wetness to your stomach and you’re quick to discard your clothing if only to see Jeongguk pause at the zipper of your jeans. “Can I—?”

You nod. 

His fingers don’t shake but he’s blinking fast, pulling on the waistline of the rough denim and shucking it past your feet, sighing when your panties come into view. A short-lived reverence when he leans down to mouth at your sex above the thin cotton and your legs spread wide for his arms to cling onto.

“Tell me—tell me what you like,” he says. A shy demand.

“Take my underwear off then I’ll tell you.”

There’s warmth lost when Jeongguk slides your panties down to one ankle but he’s over you in the second it takes for you to flick it off. No pause in his eagerness but now he lies in wait for your instructions. The way he pauses for you is so agonizingly hot you might combust.

“It’s—I like it when… I feel you lick at my…” God you sound fucked. But Jeongguk’s a wild card and takes it in stride, hands once again finding purchase around your thighs and you feel his hard tongue on you, a wet slide that has your stomach caving. It’s the natural twitch in your fingers that prompt you to keep a loose grip in his hair, other hand tight in the bed like your proxy anchor. “Oh. Yeah. Yeah…”

Jeongguk laves your core, pressing harder the higher he goes. Contingency he takes advantage of because you get louder. It’s the lick on your clit that has you sighing. “Oooh, you—use the… tip of your tongue. And lick right—there.”

He’s so pliant you feel like you’re throttling him. There’s a forward insistence of his head until you feel the flat of his tongue pressed fully against you, his neck rolling with every shift of your hips. In control of your pleasure and he makes it feel like this is what he was made to do. His fingers get tight. “You taste good,” he exhales right onto your sex and you nearly crush his head with your thighs.

“Oh my god.” Your breaths are lost. You might hide your face but that would mean losing sight of Jeongguk providing a service only he can spell out with his tongue. “Ah—”

There’s a little squeak further down the bed and you notice the small flutter of his groin caught in the warmth of him and the sheets. His lips close around your nub before you can say anything, slurping that has your gut wrangled, your fingers gripping his hair as you get lost in his love. Your eyes roll back. “Oh fuck, that—agh—”

He’s made you come before. And the familiar tone of your incoming bliss is something he can memorize—he probably already has judging by the train wreck of your throat and the sounds he pulls from you. A swindler of your orgasms but you’d gladly hand yourself over if it meant deceiving your pussy into its own demise.

“Fuck you’re—so sexy like this,” Jeongguk mumbles. You whine at his attention but now you’re running even hotter than ever.

You’re not even telling him what to do anymore but you know he knows it’s good, a message sent with every twitch of your sex into his mouth and now his fingers are splayed along your pelvis to keep you from bucking up. He doesn’t even need his fingers. It’s the hardened tongue, the little slashes on your clit as his head swings back and forth that have you squealing: “Yes, like that. Oh I’m cumming—fuck—!”

Jeongguk hums when you jerk your hips up, convulsions in all your sweetest parts and your throat is dry from all your moaning, the swell of your lungs so hard to keep up with but he always has you losing your breath. Spit collects in its warmth down your ass but it’s a lost thought when Jeongguk lathers you into your come-down, legs like jelly and he helps your knees together when you finally stop trembling. You don’t realize your eyes are closed until you feel his lips on your mouth, complaint of catching a break right behind your teeth when you kiss with what little strength remains in you. 

“That was. Really good,” you whisper. Jeongguk laughs. And he doesn’t say anything, just looks at you with his wet mouth and red cheeks. “Do you wanna cum?”

He looks like he’ll say no. A bitten lip instead of confirmation. “I—”

“Please, I want you to.” Like a switch turned on he lights up, head bobbing and now he’s shoving his jeans past his ass, underwear down too. “You wanna—come on my face?”

His eyes look like they’re leaking out of his face. A strangled noise escapes his throat. He probably thinks you’re on crack but it’s just in his nature for him to assume a dazed auto-pilot whenever you say shit so outlandish. “You—I—I-I—Can—?”

“You can cum—god you can cum anywhere. I’m yours. Remember?” Reaching behind, you feel for the clasp of your bra, flinging it off before you pull on Jeongguk by the dip of his back until his knees straddle your ribs. “Is this good?”

“Can—could you—spit… on it.” His voice dwindles like he’s caught between the threshold of dirty and pushing it. You don’t answer because your neck straining for the tip of his dick and down the rest of his shaft is all he needs for one. Jeongguk bucks into you. “Oh fuck—ngh—ah!”

If his grinding on the mattress was a ticking bomb, your tongue on his cock is the thirty seconds till detonation. And by the sounds of Jeongguk groaning into the mid-afternoon sun slipping through his curtains you know he’s almost there. “Lie down, lie down,” he instructs, hand replacing your mouth in a stroke so quick you’re scared he might get cum in your hair.

“Agh—fuck yeah I’m—”

A spurt of his cum stains your lip, then your cheek. You feel some on the tip of your nose too but Jeongguk points his dick down to your tits, spilling all his hot frustration on your even hotter skin and you might cum again from the visual of him looking so spent. “Wow.”

“Yeah, that—” Jeongguk swallows twice— “I… wow.”

His dick is getting soft. There’s sweat pooling where your body meets the sheets. “Wanna pass me tissues?”

“Oh fuck. Yeah, yeah—here, sorry.” Jeongguk makes soft passes with a wad of cotton over your chest, handing one to you for your face. “Do you—do you like it? When I… cum on you?”

“Yeah.” You think about making a weird comment about sipping on his juice but you’ll save it for later. You focus on not letting his spunk flake on your cheek. “It’s hot. Really.”

“Good,” he says. Flopping down after shooting the soiled tissue into the basket and now he seems exhausted. “Do you feel gross or is it just me.”

“Gross how?”

“Gross like I need a shower.”

You can’t deny him. “Wanna shower?”

“Yep,” he says with no hesitation, and he doesn’t let you say anything else when he grabs you by your wrists. Somehow, everything feels lighter.

Sometimes Jeongguk invites you out to practice. It’s boring and you don’t know a single rule about gameplay, but the presence of him despite being a ways away on the ice is still a comfort on its own. 

The arena is frigidly cold, and while you aren’t without distraction (re: Assignments) it’s still one you can barely get yourself to really focus on. You rub your face in frustration. You hear the sound of the hockey puck passed around in harsh slaps.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

“Jimin,” you acknowledge. He drops down next to you. “Here to spy on hockey ass too, huh.”

“That and Hoseok promised to get me dinner later.” You raise your eyebrow. “Did one of his assignments.”

“Forgot you were a chemistry genius.” Clicking your tongue, you watch the big 97 of Jeongguk’s jersey as he glides around behind the glass. He waves when he sees you looking. You’d greet him back but your hands are too perfect where they are in the heat of your sweater pockets so you wave your head in what you hope looks like excitement. 

“Been holding up okay?” You turn. Jimin’s eyes are a blaze of concern. “The other week, in the quad. You were pretty stressed.”

“Final paper.”

“Dissertation?”

“Working up to that,” you say.

“So you’re a scholar scholar.”

“Mm.” Your laptop screen blinks to black. “Something like that.” You hear Jimin snicker. He’s coiled up, stomach caved in a tiny laugh, eyes crinkled. Too amused. “What?”

“I’m just—” Jimin takes a breath in to stem his impending laughing fit— “so confused. Like, there’s Jeongguk who can eat eight cups of spicy ramen and literally bomb the bathroom with his shit—and then right next to him is Jane Goodall but with human babies.”

“He loves spicy ramen,” you comment.

“Yeah but do we like his stank? Nope. And you really just compared pronatalism to liking ramen. You know you’re out of his league.”

Jeongguk, completely oblivious to Jimin’s really weird anecdote, brings a fist up in cheers when he shoots the puck into the net. “Well. At the very least he’s cute.”

Jimin heeds with a hum to watch the play on ice. Seeing the team skate around with their broad-shoulders and thick helmets is an odd kind of relaxation. A team of huge men cutting the ice with knives on their feet but the sound is a swish satisfying enough for those kinds of videos that put you to sleep. Rough and gentle, just like Jeongguk. “I’m glad Jeongguk met you,” Jimin starts again.

“Mm. I think he has you to thank.” You boot up your laptop once more in the hopes you get inspired to type, but now Jimin has you distracted even more. 

“He just… used to be so quiet. And I’m gonna brag here but he’s got good friends. But meeting you was a game-changer.”

“Hm.”

“He was so passive.” You think to Jimin almost two years ago, pushing a slightly-smaller Jeongguk towards your table at the market. One look in your eye; pointing to the donut closest to him. Your finger touched his palm when you dropped the chocolate-glazed on it and he looked lost. “But now he’s just. Happy. All the time. It’s nice to see.”

There’s 97 again. Then Jeongguk turns and glides closer to the rail. He holds up ten fingers. Ten till over. You give a thumbs up. You feel yourself shivering but you’re not cold anymore. “Then I’m glad, too.”

“Good kid.” Jimin waves too, and Jeongguk skates off without looking at him. “Bitch! Anyway.” He leans back on his hands, feet perched on the row in front. “You guys… good now?”

And your screen fades to black again. “Oh god.”

“Sorry, fuck. Sometimes I think—no sometimes I don’t think. Sorry.”

“It’s fine, whatever.” You turn to Jimin looking very apologetic, keeping mum with his lips folded in. “It’s—he’s. A lot more eager, I have to say.”

“And are you okay with that?”

You hesitate. “I mean if we’re getting vulgar here—”

“Absolutely not, you are not telling me what he did with his dick.”

You raise your hands in surrender. You wouldn’t have told him anyway. It’s just nice to see a flustered Jimin, especially after what he’s subjected you and Jeongguk to. Good-natured but overtly so, and now you’re both blushing. “It’s been good.” 

Great. Now you’re thinking about Jeongguk and his cock again. Obviously it’s not unwelcome but riling you up is getting too easy.

“Then that’s good,” Jimin says. You hear the blow of the whistle. A congregation of fist bumps forms at the exit of the rink, and Jeongguk lets everyone pass him to get off. “Well I’m gonna go get ready for some free food. See you, yeah?”

He offers a high-five you hit hard. “Bye.”

“Oh. And good luck on your paper. You coming to the game by the way?” Jimin asks. He jumps off the bleachers, leaving you to stare at your honest attempt at getting work done. You close your laptop with a sad click. 

“I have an awards ceremony that day,” you explain. “I’ll try and catch it.”

“Don’t work too hard.” Just then, Jeongguk runs up behind Jimin not at all silently—his gym bag is ginormous—to catch him in a headlock. “Wha—”

“Why are you talking to my girlfriend,” Jeongguk interrogates. He’s probably wet with heat because Jimin scrunches his nose and shoves him off.

“You’re a pig, did you even shower.”

“Smell my armpits and you’ll get your answer.”

“Anyway,” Jimin groans. “I’m off.” He walks to the changing room in a swagger so calculated you’d yell at him for showing off his ass. But Jeongguk drags your attention away when he steps in front of the bleachers, leaning over until you greet him with a kiss.

“Hi,” Jeongguk says against your mouth.

You plug your nose for effect. “So you didn’t shower.”

“I rinsed! Don’t be mean.” He watches as you shove all your things into your bag, his hand poised for you to give it to him, and inside you falter at his generosity but you shoulder the strap and use his outstretched palm to help you up instead. “I wanted your bag, miss.”

“No, you already have a heavy one.”

“Let me carry it for you—” But you shut him up with a tiptoe and a peck to his open mouth. “Don’t distract me!”

You ignore him, grabbing his wrist and dragging him toward the exit. “Let’s go, I might miss my bus.”

Eight p.m. is a dead hour on campus grounds. You see only a handful of straggling students going back to res, even more going into the library building. The lamps guide your every step. Jeongguk’s fingers tangle in yours. “So you aren’t free at all the rest of the week right?”

“Yeah.” You try not to look at him because you know he’s pouting. “I didn’t get any work done thanks to your shouting.”

“That was Yoongi,” Jeongguk defends. “And sorry.”

You reach the bus shelter. “I’m kidding.” The neon sign overhead says your bus is due in three minutes. “I’m—I like going to your practice.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I like seeing my star hockey player tear it up on the ice,” you joke. Jeongguk laughs into your lips when he bends down lock them with his own. 

“Was it sexy enough for you?”

“Oh yeah. Got my pussy rumbling.”

He balks. “You’re so annoying.”

Two minutes. “It’s starting again.”

“What is?” In the dark light of the evening moon rising, you are reminded of this bus shelter seven months ago. A tower of nerves over you. If you think hard enough, you can still hear the shaky question he’d let dangle from his tongue, the one that has you here with him now. But now Jeongguk is nervous for different reasons. “Oh, like when you disappear on me for like five years.”

You see the light of the bus coming. You wrap Jeongguk in your arms. “Yeah. I’m only free next week.”

“Take it easy,” he says. Only one person gets off at the stop. “Just text me. Don’t need a repeat of last time.”

Last time—a month into your relationship. When you texted him every four days because of your midterms and he’d gotten so worried he genuinely wept when you showed up to his doorstep. It was a good thing you’d brought food too; not that you were expecting a cry fest but he’d felt better once he was filled with fried noodles and your affection. You concede to his request with a nod.

He lets you leave with one last kiss to your forehead. “See you,” you say. The air is alive with what you have to leave behind for the time being.

The week is rough. Professor Kwon asks you to submit marks sooner than you anticipate, so the need to get your paper done becomes a lot more urgent. One student hasn’t even handed in her assignment, which—fine. You don’t have any qualms about the zero you input. But the angry email with the threat to report you to an academic advisor the next day has you so on edge Namjoon agrees to grade half your assignments next time.

Jeongguk, somehow, eludes you too. Graduate school demands more tears than sweat and blood and while he tries his best to comfort you during your work-filled days, he’s been getting busier with hockey practice too. The added thought of starting to study for your exams is just another cake-topper. And it isn’t as if you’re going days without talking to Jeongguk, but it’s still a sting to the romantic part in you that misses him.

A week and a half before your big paper is due is a Tuesday. The girl who dissed you in your email doesn’t show up to tutorial. Everyone is dismissed for the evening. It’s good. 

Nothing beats the giddy jump in your step when you find a cubby in the library close enough to an outlet, though.

Then you get a text from Jeongguk.

[8:07 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: I’m free the rest of the night!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Let me love u bich u really deprived me of touch for an entire week  [8:07 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Wya

He meets you at the library with sweaty bangs and indents on his cheek from his helmet. You briefly contemplate jumping him. The feeling is quelled with the reminder that the library doesn’t tolerate loud noises and Excessive Romantic Gestures, so you opt for:

“Sexy.” You’re up on your feet to give him a quick hug and he makes a disgruntled face before dropping a kiss to your mouth.

“You wet yet?”

You glare to hide the need to balk. You plop back down. “You ate pussy once, don’t think this gives you free points to get so cocky.”

He pauses. “Sorry?”

“Sit. And don’t—ask me that again.”

“Yes ma’am.” Jeongguk cowers into the seat next to you. “What’s my scholar up to tonight?”

“Researching about Western Europe and their refugee policies.”

He doesn’t look like he’s interested but he makes a contemplative noise. “Very… educated. But anyhow. I’ve been thinking.” Uh oh. “And I have something. It was a week-long thought process but I have it.”

Your pens roll along the wood of the desk. “Have what?”

“A plan.”

“For?”

“For how I’m gonna fuck you. Eventually, I mean.”

“I leave you for a week and this happens,” you answer, but he’s not fazed. You feel yourself melting. Something you learned about Jeongguk during the preliminary stages of your relationship was that he liked getting things right. And if that meant practicing until he was ready—well. There’s a part in you that fears for the livelihood of your vagina. “Babe. That’s—you know we don’t need some sort of… five-steps-to-success thing.”

“But where’s the fun in that?” He pouts like you have it all wrong. Maybe you do, but it doesn’t sound so convincing to your—to be frank—non-virgin ears. “Good practice.” 

You knew he would say that. “You have something in your noggin already, boy?”

“Yeah.”

“Wanna elaborate?”

Jeongguk shrugs. “What do people normally establish before they start having sex?”

“Well I don’t have lice in my pubic hair if that’s what you wanna know,” you offer.

He scrunches his face. “Don’t—joke about that.”

“Sorry.” Jeongguk gives you an incredulous look because you both know you don’t mean it. “But you really wanna do this here?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, lay it on me.”

“Wait—really?” 

You’re starting to think you won’t get any work done for the night. Like all the nights you spend with Jeongguk and you realize the pattern now, so you might as well indulge in him. “Yeah, go pull on all your pornographic roots.”

“Ha ha.”

“I’m not into getting tied up, first of all.” You flip a page in your textbook to feign nonchalance as Jeongguk wheezes.

“Stop that!” But he just takes a piece of paper and readies a fist to write. “You’re so crude.”

Now you really can’t focus. “Are you seriously going to write about my sexual preferences?”

“No, I’m writing a detailed observation about how to go about. You know.” He purses a lip in thought. “Navigating the ocean of your pussy and its desires.”

You didn’t think the library would be home to both of your sexual awakenings, but Jeongguk makes it hard to be shy when he’s this motivated. “Weird way of asking me if I’m into watersports.”

“Okay you have to take back asking me about my pornographic roots because it sounds like you’re the freakier one.”

“You like me being freaky?” 

He reddens. “Anyway!” (Silently, you revel in your power to tease.) “I was thinking. Since we can’t hang out too much the next week-ish, that we save all the good stuff for later.”

Good point. “Define good stuff.”

Jeongguk gets smaller. Eyes drilled into yours, he whispers, “Putting my penis inside you.”

“Okay now it’s getting weird.”

He drops his pencil in disbelief. “Only now? Tell me how any of this wasn’t weird in the first place.”

“You’re literally the one who took out a pencil to jot down my sexual preferences, don’t act like you’re innocent.” Now he has the decency to look sheepish. He doesn’t say anything. “Jeongguk. It’s fine to be nervous. But I don’t want you to feel like you need to do this.”

You might as well be talking to the wall but he nods anyway. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“No! Just… you don’t owe anyone anything.” Something in you longs for him to understand that. You hate to make him nervous but Jeongguk is so adamant you almost want to wrap him in your arms from the sexually-inclined horde that came in the form of Park Jimin. “Remember that.”

He deflates with a sigh. “Then… can you come over tomorrow?” He’s squirming. “I’m done practice at seven.”

“If my advisor’s nice enough she’ll let me off at six,” you confirm.

Jeongguk takes a notebook out but makes no effort to open it. “And. I missed you. Just. Wanted to get that out there.”

There’s only so much texting can do, you get it. The pit of your stomach simmers with affection for the dumb boy sitting next to you, legs jumping the way they do when he’s nervous. “Love you.” And he smiles. Fuel for your listlessness. There are papers to write, and virgins to daydream about. Especially about the one who just propositioned you with absurdities. But now his pencil is out, and the moment is lost. 

You can think about Jeongguk’s dick later. For now, you settle in the quietude of his presence with yours.

It’s a colder day today.

“Hi!” Taehyung opens the door, bouncing in his pyjamas from the rush of freezing air. “Come, come. Please don’t ask me how I’ve been, I’m so tired of school and that’ll be my answer and I don’t want to talk about it.”

You swallow your pleasantries down. He’s a stressed Neuroscience major. “Fair,” you greet instead, toeing your boots off.

“Coming from somewhere?”

“Tutorial evaluation,” you say. Taehyung lets out a low whistle, closes the door behind you. He knows your shoulders are stiff because of Professor Kwon’s watchful gaze. Sitting at the back, ramrod straight with that black clipboard, taking down notes on your performance as a first-time TA. 

She’d let you go after with a smile, though. Let you know you did fine. You’d practically glided to residence when she’d given you the go to leave for the day. 

“I have a question for you,” Taehyung says. He sits on the couch, watches as you take off your snow-soiled scarf and jacket. “Has Jeongguk been more… fidgety lately?”

So he’s noticed too. “Yeah, I’ve—seen it. Why?”

“I don’t know, he sort of just—” Taehyung scoots over when you plop down next to him— “he came out of the room yesterday squealing, then ran around the living room for a bit then just. Went back into his room.”

Oh. So that’s what he was off to do when said he needed to get something after you linked him to your favourite porn accounts on Twitter.

“Maybe it’s just. I don’t know, pre-game jitters,” you lie. Taehyung’s giving you the look. Like he’s not satisfied with your answer and the only way to sate him is if you let him do one thing. “You can ask.”

“Did you fuck him yet?”

No reservations. As expected, because he’s just as nosy as Jimin and the rest of their friends annoyingly concerned with Jeongguk’s hesitation in the bedroom. “Nope.”

“Okay but like—can you fuck him already? I’m gonna be rolling in my grave by the time his penis passes the two-inch border of your personal space.”

You can’t keep in your snort. “Oh my god.”

“Just. We really don’t mean to be so standoffish but he just likes you so much it’s insane. Like I’ll see his phone light up and he will too. He’ll literally—he just glows. It’s kind of creepy actually but like. Cute creepy.”

The rush of praise runs through you. You don’t like to brag, but you really did snag the campus boy crush. You were popular enough with academia, but after the first time Jeongguk posted a picture of you two at the Christmas market, though—the entire student body went ballistic. It was the nascence of a fairy tale; movie romance budding in the grey concrete of campus grounds. 

No one saw it coming. And knowing that the one everyone has their eye on has its eyes on you—it’s a good kind of blow.

“He’s my baby,” you say, and Taehyung coos. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of him.”

There’s a rattling of the door knob. The sight of a ragged Jeongguk stumbles in, gym bag dropped on the floor and he disappears down the hall with the call for a shower and a brief smile your way. “I’ll be five minutes, babe.”

That’s Taehyung’s cue. “Well—I’m off to study group. Take care of him, yeah?”

“You know it.” You offer a fist bump. Taehyung’s knuckles are bony on yours. 

The trek to Jeongguk’s room isn’t unfamiliar. You bounce back on his bed, willing yourself not to close your eyes because you know you’ll just crash. A headache prepares right behind your temple, as imminent as rumbling thunder. Something in you calls for Jeongguk to hurry the fuck up before you succumb to Stress and those horrible, horrible thoughts of due dates.

It doesn’t take that long. There’s the squeak of the shower handle turning off and the black of your closed eyes, the scurrying of an unseen body; the lifting of your shirt for a very heavy weight of a hockey player blowing raspberries into the skin of your stomach. Jeongguk chortles when you nearly break your back trying to dislodge him. “You’re—oh my god—hey stop!”

“Hi,” he says, laugh caught in his breath, “I’m clean.”

“I see that.” He’s in his pyjamas. You let him settle on your side. The lingering heat from his shower makes you clammy but you let him hold you tight. “How was practice?”

“It was nice.” This is code for: I wasn’t yelled at by Yoongi. “I’m excited for our game, I’m feelin’ good. Did you find out if you could make it?”

You were blessed by the gods, because not only were your days coinciding, they were also starting an hour within each other. You’d be at the podium with a flowery speech while Jeongguk tears the ice rink with his pretty skates. And if every award recipient’s was longer than a minute then you might miss the entire game. Two hours past Jeongguk most likely scoring the winning goal; an infinity lost to see your star in action. 

(And seeing Jeongguk play is really attractive.)

You settle with: “I’ll try my best.”

“Okay,” he says. The crown of his head digs into your neck. You feel his lips when he speaks. “How are you holding up?”

“Barely.”

“Did you get your paper done?”

“Barely.”

“So it’s done.”

“Let’s not talk about school,” you dismiss. He leaves the conversation to wither with a suction to your skin. Wet where he lines your neck with quick kisses and you soften into the sheets. “Is this your way of—executing your plan.”

“Hm?”

“You know—your—guide to putting your penis inside me.”

He leans up on his elbow. Unimpressed because his eyebrows are scrunched. “Funny.”

“You love me.”

“And what about it?” His eyes shine the way they do before he tells you he loves you too. “It isn’t even a plan it’s just—a buildup. To when my penis goes inside you. Like a countdown but with orgasms instead.” You snicker. He drags a light hand down your front, settling his palm right over your pussy. “Let me touch you.”

You forget how to breathe for a second. “Yeah—I’m—yeah. Please.”

“Sit up.” Jeongguk plants himself near the wall, not unlike the position he was in when you sucked his dick for the first time. Instead of the afternoon heat, you’re caught under the dying evening rays of sunset: not as hot but still you feel the spark in your belly when Jeongguk lifts your bum to settle you between his legs. His nails play with the button of your pants. “I wanna try something.”

“Sure.” And he helps you wiggle off your clothes, bottom bare to his graces. Doesn’t say anything, just lets his mouth meet yours slowly, tasting the day off your tongue, your worries behind his teeth. 

“Anyone ever fingered you so hard you cried?”

“You wanna make me cry?”

“Don’t say it like that.” Jeongguk nips at your lip. “But yeah, I guess.”

You’re wet. This is a fact you come to realize when you feel him spread your legs, feet planting in the mattress in an attempt to ground yourself.  “Okay,” you agree.

His mouth’s busy with yours, lips unyielding like he could do this all day. It’s almost picturesque, the way he has you: head turned over to meet him in his love, arms wrapped around your own. Yours for him to savour and he always tastes good.

He doesn’t wait anymore. Your clit throbs with the passes of his fingers, head falling back to rest on Jeongguk’s shoulder when he dips in the pool of your heat and drags it back up. Groaning when he spins tight circles like you taught him and your hands find his thighs. “Feels—good,” you utter. Already you’re gone but Jeongguk feeds into your pleasure with no qualms for your embarrassment.

“Can I—put in a finger?” He asks shyly, but playing with your slick like he’s known how to make you putty in his hands this whole time.

“Yeah. Please.” You welcome the insistence in your sex with the buck of your hips. Jeongguk curls his middle finger up, the heel of his hand smooth on your clit and you sigh, “Ooh, fuck yeah.”

He kisses your cheek. “Another one?”

“I can take it,” you say, and he has another finger in you, hooking into your nerves. You might moan but Jeongguk turns your head and molds his mouth into yours, stealing your breath with his tongue. He curves in a little too hard and you squeal. “Oh my god, too—much.”

“Sorry.” He adjusts, fingers straight again. “M’gonna go faster, if that’s okay.” You nod, restless, and then he adds: “And you can’t look away from me.”

“Yes please—”

You couldn’t look away even if you tried, because the hand not fucking you into oblivion catches your cheeks, locking you to Jeongguk’s gaze. It’s a fucked out one too, and now you notice his hard dick pressed up against your back. 

It’s a storm of thrusting: wet and more wet and now he abruptly pulls out, smears your slick on your clit in a rub so fast you would squeal louder if it weren’t for his lips swallowing your sounds. 

“Oh-h—!”

You burn. Jeongguk enters you again and your cunt feels swollen. Fucking all the deepest and dirtiest parts of you and you take it, yielding to the draw on your tight walls. The squelch gets louder. So do you. 

“Oh yeah—” And you don’t cry but the feeling of him inside is so overwhelming and all that you need and it’s there— “Fuck, y-eah. Gonna cum soon—”

“Give it to me.” Punctuated with a twist in your sex so rough you would have twitched him off but his legs cage you. Jeongguk smiles. “Come on babe—”

“Nnn—ha J-Jeongguk—” You grab his wrist, the one knocking his fingers so good though he doesn’t stop under the tight hold— “B-Baby—”

“I want it, I want it,” he chants into your mouth, like he’s eager for a release conducive to your early death just so he can say he did that. Awful cocky but you can’t dwell on it. “Just cum for me.”

“Fuck—” He makes you look at him when you do, eyes wide to his imploring ones. He has it in his fingers, a climax that wrangles the most obscene noises from your throat. Your hips grind up uncontrollably, clit a pulsing pain but his thumb rubs it all the same. Jeongguk doesn’t stop till you whine, “God, please—I can’t."

“You’re crying.”

“Am not.” But you feel the sting of heat in your eyes. Jeongguk rubs his nose with yours, wrapped in his arms and affection.

“Was it good though?”

“Was it good, he says.” You kiss him with no bite. “Loved it. Best ever.”

Jeongguk lights up, corners of his mouth lifted into a sated grin. “Woo,” he says. You’re about to ask if he wants one rubbed out but he continues speaking. “So plan’s going well if you wanted to know.”

“Shut up. Shut up!” You make a point of getting up with as much force as possible, disturbing the coils the mattress as Jeongguk laughs. “You’re so gross.”

“You love me.”

Your panties are sticky against you. You turn to see him staring at you already. “I love you.”

The room glows in the last few minutes of red, coated darker and darker. But the look Jeongguk gives you—maybe astonishment, maybe longing—casts a glow that blazes within. Like all he wants is for you to be here and you do too. He breaks the silence with a smile. “You’re the best, you know that?”

You climb back over him, unable to resist anymore. “So I’ve been told.”

“I mean it though.” He shifts so you’re lying down again, head on his chest. Warm again. “Sorry if I’m—pushing the agenda. And I know I say Jimin’s not getting to me and it’s true but it—makes me want you. All the time.”

You settle for the truth with a kiss to his sternum. “I have no free time after today though.” 

“That’s okay,” Jeongguk whispers. “Just love me now and you can always love me later.”

“I can do that,” you say. 

He lets you dig into his side even further. “Are you sure you don’t wanna talk about school?”

“Mm.” You know it’ll help to air your dirty laundry. But knowing Jeongguk has his own shit to deal with is enough for you to hesitate. “Nothing I—haven’t said before. Just stressed.”

“About your last assignment?”

“Mhm.”

“You’re smart. And for whatever reason, really into baby-making in foreign countries.” Jeongguk groans when you pinch him. “But I know you. And you’ll do well. Also it’s official that you’ll do well because you’re dating someone really good at what they do, and I was just inside your body so technically my energy transferred to you.”

“Very solid process.” 

His breathes warmth into your skin. “Believe me. You’re gonna be fine.”

And it’s not the end of the world, not being able to see him for a bit. You both know this. You hug him tighter to you regardless, like making his skin stick to yours was an actuality. You know he feels it too when his arm locks just a tiny bit harder. An unspoken longing for the mold of your body.

You’ll get there.

It’s been four days since you’ve seen Jeongguk, so Namjoon takes the responsibility of keeping you sane. He books a study room for three hours and meets you with a two cups of coffee and three extra pens just in case they run out while you mark your assignments together. He takes the stack of papers from you with a frown, and you work.

The paper is coming along well. You think you have a good five pages to go, but the amount of hounding Professor Kwon has done is scaring you into another late night-in. More and more marks are due, and Namjoon has his own work to deal with. You hate to burden him with your own but now you’re really feeling the Stress from school.

[6:01 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Hey what are you doing [6:02 PM] You: i’m doing work :(( [6:02 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Poo poo [6:02 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: I’m bored [6:03 PM] You: 💩💩 [6:03 PM] You: sorry bout it !!!!!!! [6:04 PM] You: wait how can u be bored ur @ practice ?? if ur just…. doin practice [6:05 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: On break [6:05 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: And I miss you [6:06 PM] You: omg!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [6:06 PM] You: my heart

Namjoon’s eyebrows are scrunched. “I can’t tell what this student is saying.”

“Read it out loud.” 

“I will argue that the legalization of crack cocaine will act as a beneficial potential towards the bettering of society. With the advent of legal marijuana usage in Canada—yeah.”

“That’s… an abuse of thesaurus privileges,” you comment.

He hums. “They’re young, let them live.”

Again, Jeongguk texts you.

[6:09 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: When are you free [6:10 PM] You: tonight [6:10 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: I’m not 😩😩 What about Wednesday? [6:11 PM] You: i’m only free rn baby :( might have to wait till after friday [6:12 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 [6:12 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Damn [6:12 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: I need to go now text me when you’re done k?????? Love you [6:13 PM] You: okay ! 💜

You hear Namjoon snapping at you. “You’re getting distracted.”

“Sorry.” Your pen twitches in your grip. This is your third cup of coffee. “Just—need a goddamn break.

You can sense Namjoon’s nerves grating too. “I get it.” He looks at his watch. “Well. We need to leave in five minutes.”

You graded almost all of your half of assignments. You let yourself breathe a sigh of accomplishment, clearing your work into your bag. “Thanks for helping me out.”

“Buy me lunch someday and we’ll call it even,” Namjoon says. He swipes the papers your way to collect. “And by the way—” he takes one last sip of his coffee— “I caught wind that one of the Commissioner-Generals is coming to the ceremony.”

You stare. “From which agency?” 

“No clue. But I just thought you should know.”

Of course he would. The one time you don’t clear your search history and now Namjoon is up your ass helping you find any potential global PhD programs. And it wasn’t unimaginable either, some higher-up coming to see the semester-end awards the department heads organized, and the student chair had a lot of say in it, current one being Kim Namjoon: a lobbyist, a smart guy, and Twitter-sort-of-famous for being really damn loud about inequality.

But they’re probably not recruiting me, you think. Best not to get your hopes up lest it go to a well-deserved head who apparently doesn’t get distracted by the potential of finally squeezing their boyfriend’s dick. 

Namjoon sighs. “Hey, isn’t the ceremony the same day as the game?”

“Yep,” you confirm. For a split second, an image of Jeongguk giggling pops up into your head.

“Do you think you’ll make it?”

You sling your bag over your shoulder, standing outside the door until Namjoon turns off all the lights. “I’m gonna try.”

The hallway to the main entrance of the Humanities wing is quiet. “Speaking of the game. Any intel about your current… predicament?”

“Jimin?”

“Jimin.”

“About Jeongguk?”

“About Jeongguk.”

“Fuck,” you murmur. And you thought he’d be kind enough to keep your secret, but Namjoon is to Jimin like a big is to a little except they’re both too posh to be in a frat. “Not really. And stay out of it.”

“I will,” he says. He opens the door, winter wind as brutal as ever. You think about Jeongguk walking you to the bus stop but he’s probably already back at his dorm. You shiver. “But if I catch you distracted on your phone again I might have to ask.”

You cower into embarrassment.“Sorry.” 

Namjoon waves you off. “Just get home safe, yeah?”

Getting home isn’t that bad; late enough for the absence of the rush hour crowd and you get to sit on the bus the rest of the ride. You all but book it to your place to escape the frost nipping at your cheeks and into the nest of your textbooks. Plans to demolish at least a tiny bit of your not-so-tiny pile of work come to a stand-still when you hear your phone vibrate.

[7:46 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Hey did u finish yet [7:46 PM] You: fuck sorry forgot to text [7:46 PM] You: yeah i did, i just got home [7:47 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: That’s good [7:47 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Do you have a lot of work to do tonight?? [7:48 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Please say no [7:48 PM] You: ….. [7:48 PM] You: why [7:48 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: The plan [7:50 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Still building [7:50 PM] You: should i be scared [7:51 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: No!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [7:51 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: But [7:51 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: I know you wouldn’t like it if I didn’t ask, and I’m a good boy, so [7:52 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Can I send you a picture of my dick?

A boot hangs limply from your toes from when you were trying to tug it off. Dumbly, you’re gaping. Gaping at this transition from shy Jeongguk to… whatever the fuck this was. The pulsing of your sex betrays your shock.

It’s not like things were changing fast, either. That moment in his bed—after he fucked you with his fingers—was the last time you’d been together. A solid evening of knotted arms and Jeongguk’s breath down your neck. He’d only let you go because your complaints to do homework got too loud for him to sleep properly, and you left him in his room like that: heavy-eyed and full of low murmurs for you to come back.

“You’ll miss me, right?” He’d asked. It sounded so innocent. Looked like it too when he stood next to you as you slipped on your shoes. The answer was easy.

“Duh.”

And it wasn’t like you weren’t affectionate. Sure, gaining the impulse to hug and squeeze him was one you had to work up to, but this came with new relationships, that novelty of being someone else’s: one that Jeongguk had no problems getting used to. Took you a little longer to warm up to his kisses in public but you’re here now. Here, slack-jawed at this distant intimacy. Feet mired in your shock, on the carpet of your front door.

You don’t remember feeling this desperate for Jeongguk before. 

[7:54 PM] You: i [7:54 PM] You: definitely wouldn’t be opposed

You lock your screen fast. Fling your shoes off, slap your jacket onto a hanger. You nearly bust your bedroom down in your hurry to get the fuck on the bed, like the rush of a late night with a stranger but Jeongguk is wholly familiar and isn’t even here to touch you. The ding of your phone is enough to keep you on your toes. You don’t swipe yet because already you’re sweating.

Aa…Jeongguk❣️: 1 Photo and 2 Messages

Should you take your clothes off? Or is he supposed to ask you to do that? Should you ask? What the fuck. This was too much.

You open it. It takes one second to download.

That’s his dick. Jeongguk’s dick, flash on, held up by the tips of his fingers at the base like he knows his angles. The tip is flushed with a wetness you’d lick right up if you were there just to feel the way he shivers under you.

[7:55PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Baby I’m so hard [7:55PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Wanna kiss you all over

You squeal. 

This was your boyfriend, mister-campus-hotboy, the one literally everyone got hard over and now he’s sending you his own personal dick pics. Maybe you do need to thank the high heavens one day because

What

The

Fuck is going on.

No matter. 

[7:57PM] You: i want u to [7:57PM] You: want u on top of me [7:57PM] You: with ur lips on my neck [7:58PM] You: getting me wet. u always make me. wet

You can’t wait anymore. Your shirt is off, bra tossed, back bare on your sheets. You shimmy out of your pants just as Jeongguk texts back.

[7:58PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Fcurck baby [7:59PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Can’t stop thinnking abt u [8:00PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: The way u sounded [8:00PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: When I was e ating u out [8:01PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: u tasted so good on m y tonguel fucckkkk [8:01PM] You: are u jacking off rn ??? [8:02PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Yess [8:02PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Touch urself [8:02PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Please?

Panties come off. It’s not a surprise when your finger is soaked in your arousal, teasing your clit and you sigh.

[8:02PM] You: fuck im so wet [8:03PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Yeah??? [8:03PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: What r u thinkgnin about [8:03PM] You: your mouth [8:04PM] You: on my tits [8:04PM] You: my cunt [8:04PM] You: u got me off sooo good [8:05PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Fuucckckk baby [8:05PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: You’re so hot ho ly shit [8:05PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Want u so bad [8:06PM] You: how??? [8:06PM] You: u already treat me so good [8:06PM] You: maybe i’’ll take care of u now hm? ?? [8:07PM] You: mymouth on ur dick [8:07PM] You: taste so good [8:08PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Shit

Everything was jumping out of your head so quick your one hand couldn’t keep up. The two fingers on your pussy dipped again, jolts of sweetness straight through your nerves when you rub yourself faster. Focusing on his texts was as easy as trying to stave your orgasm off, which… really wasn’t going too well, pelvis meeting the palm of your hand in a desperate kick.

[8:08PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Take your clothes off [8:09PM] You: past that

It takes him a minute.

[8:10PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Could you send a pic [8:10PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Pleas e

Oh. Okay.

You lean up on your elbow, push your chest against your bicep in the hopes that your cleavage could somewhat be evocative enough in the weak light of your phone. (You notice you forgot to turn the lights on.) The picture cuts off right above your nipples, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t do that just for the possibility of a desperate plea. You lie back down.

Sent.

[8:13PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: urruhguhgkehrdhfg [8:13PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Baby pleease I want more [8:14PM] You: of what ??? [8:14PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: FUck [8:15PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: I want you [8:15PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: On top of me [8:15PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Grnding yuor pretty pussy on my dick [8:16PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: You’re wet ik ur wet

Of course he would. He knows your body better than ever before, and you might tease him but the throbbing you’re attending to is too much of a distraction.

[8:17PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Can you imagine that [8:17PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Teasig my cock into you [8:17PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: But I won’t putnit in yet [8:17PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Bc I want u squirming o n top of me [8:18PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Ik u don’t beg [8:19PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: But I would ask u anyway if u want me to sink u down on my cock

Oh my god. The soft sucking sound of your fingers inside your cunt isn’t enough to drag you out of this reverie. It just sinks you deeper into this bliss Jeongguk spells out for you so well. He has you like putty. Your knuckles curve you into a hopeless whimper.

[8:20PM] You: i want that [8:20PM] You: iwa nt that so bad pleas [8:21PM] You: let me feel your dick inside [8:21PM] You: u want that so bad baby [8:21PM] You: to feel me squeezing around u [8:21PM] You: im so tight and wwt [8:22PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Wanna hear u  [8:22PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Ft [8:22PM] You: just call

You don’t think you could handle seeing his dick now. Especially when the build in your pussy is this close to tipping you into a climax he probably wants to hear.

Your phone blares in the quiet. “Baby—”

“I’m so close,” Jeongguk says. He sounds like he’s panting. “Tell me you are too. Please—!” He cuts himself off with a gasp.

“Y-Yeah.” You burn in his desperation, curling into your cunt in the spot you know would have you keeling over. “Ngh—!”

“I wanna hear you. Wanna—hear you when I fuck you. So—good.”

“Oh fuck—”

“You want that too baby?”

You heave. “Yes!”

“Let me hear you cum. Please. I’m so fucking close—”

“Jeongguk!” You sputter, moaning loud, crying in the extremity. It zips through your core, has you reeling, legs shaking as you rub it out so hard you arch from your bed. You barely register Jeongguk’s own completion.

“Fuck I’m cumming—shit!” He groans, long, noisy on the line but the image of his cum onto his hands has your stomach clenching. Clobbered by his own doing and it’s almost endearing how fucked out he sounds. There’s a moment where you hear fumbling, a distant breath; shifts in the mattress probably. “Baby…”

Your phone lights up again. 

Aa…Jeongguk❣️: 1 Photo

You don’t hesitate this time. 

His dick is wet, probably with his spit, but now his entire first is closed around it, dregs of his cum pooling in the suction of his palm against the pink skin. The urge to put your mouth on him is so over-whelming you groan in frustration.

“Want it in my mouth,” you say.

“You’ll make me hard again,” Jeongguk murmurs with a laugh.

It’s just past 8:30. “So. What got you so hard that had you begging for me over the phone?”

“Hm.” You move until you’re under the covers. A makeshift warmth because you don’t have Jeongguk to cuddle you for post-sex softness. “I don’t know. Just missed you. Again. Sorry if you had work to do.”

“No you’re not.”

“Yeah I’m not.” You think you hear him in the washroom. The vent is loud. “Made a mess.”

“Not my fault.”

“Uh, it kinda was. Hoping for more nipple next time.”

“Now you’re asking for too much,” you sigh. There’s a sleepy pull in your head, dragging you through the waves of feelings that currently bombard your heart. “I miss you too. Hope you’re not working too hard.”

“I have a bruise on my ass! Oh my god I forgot to tell you. But Hoseok checked me so hard for no fucking reason and—boom. Landed right on my booty.”

You coo. “Aw. Want me to kiss it better?”

“Yes please, it’s on my fatter butt-cheek I think.”

It dies down again. “So what stage are we at for your build-up?”

“Close to the finale.”

You can’t stop yourself from smiling. There’s only three days left till your prospective hells come to a head. Then it’s back to loving Jeongguk but closer to him this time, not through the cracked screen of your phone. “Can’t wait.”

“Me too,” Jeongguk says. “Guess—I should leave you to your work?”

As much as you want to say no, the pile of essays on your desk is calling for your ass to get moving. It sends a quick ripple of nervous tension down your spine but the sooner you get it done the sooner it is to texting Jeongguk again. You know he’s impatient too. “Yeah. Might stay up.”

“Not too late, okay? You’re almost there. And make that tea I bought you, it’s supposed to help with your headaches.”

You’ll cry. “I love you.”

“Love you too. Text me when you’re gonna sleep.”

You’re probably ovulating because a tear really does slip over your cheek. The stickiness between your thighs rubs your skin when you finally get up, avoiding the offensive stack of work in your periphery when the hints of a new headache start to come up. 

Jeongguk probably knew you were heading straight into another painful night of working. There’s a tin of loose leaf tea sitting patiently for you in your cupboard. And maybe taking on the teaching position wasn’t such a good idea, but then again, dates where everything loomed over you were inevitable. School’s a bitch. But you have an attractive boy waiting for you to finish, and that’s what prompts you to face the music. One more time.

Three more nights. 

The first night is actually okay. You get a page and half done, and Namjoon checks in with a text in the evening to make sure you aren’t pulling your teeth out. Jeongguk has practice the whole day. 

During the second night, you forget to save one of the articles you cited, and you spend a frantic hour searching through all your sources to trace it back. It’s a painful process and you almost cry, but you text Jeongguk and he sends you a selfie of him sending you a thumbs up. Your phone lags trying to scroll through the gigantic box of of hearts he texts you. You find the article. It’s good.

Third night and you’re about ready to give up. Jeongguk and Namjoon are both out of commission because apparently the universe hates all of you and you’re all busy with your respective work. But you have a page to conquer, and the onus is on you to show up with nice skin tomorrow because the department likes to take pictures to post online. The tea Jeongguk got you steams as you type diligently.

One

More

Word

Andit’sdone.

“Oh god,” you whisper to yourself. You scroll through your paper, making sure all your citations are right. Page numbers there. No excessive use of the first-person, your professor’s name spelt correctly. Formatted correctly.

It’s done.

You bask in the harsh light of your desk lamp, weight lifted off your shoulders the instant you save your document to submit online.

The assignment page loads, and you hit the button.

The line of your phone rings twice.

“Hello?” Jeongguk groans. It’s three in the morning. “Babe? Are you okay?”

“I FINISHED I SUBMITTED IT IT’S IN!” You yell. A genuine rise in your throat that has Jeongguk whooping with as much energy as his sleep-ridden voice can allow on the other side of the line.

“How do you feel?”

“Like I wanna hop on your dick right now.”

Jeongguk just snickers. Your eyebrows raise, because for sure he would’ve been choking. But maybe it’s because he’s tired. “Don’t tempt me into a boner, it’s too early for this.”

“Fuck—sorry. You have your game. Okay I’ll hang up. I’m gonna—sleep. Try to. Okay I love you! Sorry bye!”

“Sleep well. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You knock out the second your light is off and your head hits the pillow.

You asked Namjoon earlier in the day to call you awake because your ringtone is more annoying than your alarm. And even though the ceremony is later in the evening, you’re scared that you’ll sleep the entire day away. 

Jeongguk texts you before you’re up. A congratulatory message, and another saying that he’ll be at practice the whole day so he’ll try to text you at lunch. But the afternoon sun sees no text from him and you know it’s because he’s sweating his balls off on the hockey rink. Stubborn like you know he is but now you miss him again. 

One thing that sticks in your head the rest of the day: the thought of it being over. Because once you get your awards and hopefully get to see the end of the game, you get Jeongguk to yourself again. Two weeks of agonizing to get to this point all but crashes into your loins to spark a frighteningly hot fire, and now, once again, you’re left to fantasize about Jeongguk’s dick. You force yourself not to dwell on it too much, makeup a risk to your fidgeting and if the reason why you have an ugly picture up online is because you were longing for dick then—well. 

It’s Namjoon who greets you when you get to the conference hall downtown.

“You look good,” is all he says. 

You stick your tongue out at him. You had to redo your lipstick twice. “Shut up.”

He leads you to where he was sitting: the massive table stuck in the middle with the microphones sticking up along the perimeter. Maplewood and entirely unfitting for the green carpet, though Namjoon beats you before you can say anything mean. “If you look up front, that’s the Commissioner-General I was talking about.”

You look. She’s a petite woman, scarily thin, wearing a bright scarf. “Yoon Soomin,” you recognize.

“Correct.”

“Namjoon!” You hit his shoulder, and he winces with a grin. “Why didn’t you tell me!”

“Because I knew you’d get stressed!”

Well he’s goddamn right you’re stressed now. Yoon Soomin, Commissioner-General of one of the programs you had your eyes on for the past year now. Applications are open next week. You’ve had yours done for a solid six months, and now the head of the program is right here. In the flesh. Watching you about to get your award.

The chatter of all the other students is drowned out when the program head gets up for the commencement speech. “Good evening everyone. My name is Bae Joohyun. Thank you—”

Ding.

Namjoon kicks your shin. You silence your phone. It’s Jeongguk.

[7:39PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Hi babe hope u had a good day!!! Sorry I got distracted [7:40PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: But I know ur gna win like fifty awards so advanced congrats!!!!!!! Proud of ur big brain [7:40PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Love you [7:41PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: I hope you make it later pls try ur hardest but if u can’t it’s okay but like I would really appreciate if you. Came [7:41PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: OJO [7:42PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Heh Taehyung said that looks like me 

There’s clapping. You don’t know why everyone’s clapping but you do it too.

[7:42PM] You: pls don’t break any limbs while i am here i won’t be fast enough [7:42PM] You: love u. play smart not hard. i’ll be there for ur final goal 🤪 [7:43PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Anything for my scholar [7:43PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: You r so cute please come soon [7:44PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: I have to go now I LOVE You

“I will now invite the Student Chair Kim Namjoon forward to deliver a speech,” Professor Bae says.

No last text to Jeongguk because now you join the applause once more. Namjoon gets up with practiced ease, staggered steps of confidence because if anyone is going to get a PhD first, it’s him. And you know he applied for the program too.

It starts simple: “Thank you for coming today.” A celebratory gathering, gratitude for everyone’s hard work and commitment. A call for everyone to continue being ambassadors for the Humanities. Nothing you haven’t heard before. 

“I would also like to announce that the department has decided to award a special recipient tonight for their academic work and contribution to graduate research,” Namjoon continues. “The award will be presented by Yoon Soomin, Commissioner-General of the Anthropology for the Humanities Global Network. Please give your warmest applause to Doctor Yoon.”

Oh god. Your literal idol because she was just as interested in babies as you were and Jeongguk would for sure be goading you into a frenzy because of your shaking. But you clap as normally as normal clapping goes, and Doctor Yoon takes the mic.

“I’ll just head straight into it,” she says with a pretty smile. You catch Namjoon looking at you. He raises an amused eyebrow, and now you’re suspicious. “It is an honour to call upon ___, for their recent submission of pronatalist work based in Europe for the research study funded by the Global Network.” That’s—you. That’s you, and these are your legs moving on their own accord to the beat of the eager applause. You don’t look at Namjoon but you can hear him, because he’s clapping the loudest. “___ has been recognized before: for an outstanding submission in undergraduate research on cultural genocide, as well as active participation in the Anthropological department.”

Yoon Soomin extends a hand to you, as well as a pretty certificate gilded with bold letters in the form of your name. Again: all offered by Yoon Soomin. Again, you are shaking. 

“T—hank you,” you stammer, and her hand is soft in yours and you really just might cry but it’s probably because you’re exhausted. You’d slept for a solid ten hours but no amount of rest would have ever prepared you for her pretty voice congratulating you again. “I—It’s an honour.”

“Picture time,” Namjoon interrupts. He’s got his phone up. “Smile!”

“Congratulations again,” Doctor Yoon says. She grins like she knows something too, and the rest of the ceremony is static in your ears.

Like always, it’s repetition. A name called, award presented. Your name is exhausted three more times, and you’d cower under the attention but you worked too goddamn hard not get to this point. You think of Jeongguk, probably three to none even though it’s only been half an hour into the game. You and Namjoon are practically trembling when Professor Bae dismisses everyone.

Your jacket is on, purse about to swing over your shoulder when someone comes up to you.

“Hello.” Doctor Yoon again. “Oh—are you in a hurry?”

“Not at all,” you rush out. You can feel Namjoon vibrating too. “I—Thank you so much for presenting the award.”

“It was my pleasure. The overseas program application opens next week,” she advises, and you really might scream but you will yourself to stillness. “We don’t know where it’s based yet, but I hope that doesn’t discourage you from submitting your application.”

“Oh she’s been interested for years,” Namjoon offers. You elbow him. Doctor Yoon laughs. 

“I’m glad to hear that. Keep up the good work!”

You all but skirt around her with a quick thank you again! and make a mad dash out the building and to the underground train because Namjoon sucks and can’t drive on highways yet. “Good thing you didn’t wear heels because you’re so fucking slow.”

“Shut up,” you growl. The people on the sidewalk offer no space for you to slither through, and you grind you teeth with impatience. “And don’t give me shit when I beat you four to one.”

“Not everyone’s into babies like you are, genius.” You reach the closest subway entrance, a seedy staircase down into the dirty cement and your fare is paid with a drop of a coin; running for the departing train and you make it by the wisp of your hair. You sigh into an empty seat, Namjoon right next to you. “Time.”

It’s nearing 9:00. “Oh my god it’s almost done.”

“You’ll make it,” Namjoon says. The jostling ride is another twenty minutes, and you know it’s cutting it short but you promised Jeongguk. He’s so close. You’re out of breath. “So you’re free now, huh.”

“Yeah.”

“You worked hard.”

You scrunch your face in embarrassment. “Thanks Joonie.”

“I mean it,” he says. “No one deserves this more than you. Yeah? Cut yourself some slack.”

“I know—it’s just—I couldn’t be there for Jeongguk as much as I could have—” And it’s all coming out now. There’s only one other person on this cart other than Namjoon so you let yourself have the moment, the breakdown. The awfulness of preoccupation and missing your boyfriend and too much work. You don’t want to cry but the screech of the metal tracks makes it easier to hide. “‘M so fucking tired.”

Namjoon pats your back when you heave. “Two more stops. Then you can curse the gods all you want.”

Good incentive, because once the doors slide open on your stop you book it up the escalator as fast as your fatigue can allow. Luckily campus is right around the corner, cars taking up all the space on the road. Probably all here for the final match of the year, your university against the one a city over, and the cheers are so loud you hear it from the two sidewalks over. “Let’s go let’s go!”

And you and Namjoon run again, down to the set of doors of the arena nestled into the corner of your school. The doors are heavyset but you yank them like you’ll die if you aren’t inside within the next twenty seconds, and it’s only now that you feel the buzz of your phone from a text.

[8:58 PM] Jimin Bimin: I’m on the east side with taehyung, third from the bottom bleacher, mostly in the middle. hurry!!!!!!

Namjoon’s no doubt just following the beeline you make because even you can’t feel where your legs are taking you. All you know is the rush of school pride and the deafening yells of the crowd, lost bits of popcorn on the floor scrunching against your shoes as you search for Jimin. You see Taehyung first: warpaint on his face and he waves you over quickly, scooting over with a pull on Jimin to make room for Namjoon too.

“You made it!” Jimin screams and it still sounds like a squeak with the roar of the people everywhere.

But you ignore this, laser-beaming the rink for that familiar 97. You catch Jeongguk closely following the puck, stick clenched tightly in his fists, legs quick in their glide as the offence. You feel everyone’s bated breath, hands grabbing Jimin’s arm—the other team’s members flying past Jeongguk, the raise of the wood, a slap to the puck—

The red blares. The crowd goes wild. 

“HE WON!” Jimin screams and so do you, the wave of excitement passing over you like fairy dust and now everyone’s cheering. You have no idea what went on. But now all the boys off the rink jump over the barrier to grab Jeongguk in a hard throttle, arms tangled around each other, chant lost on your ears but they look so happy. 

Somehow, a body breaks away from the huddle, and now they’re skating in your direction. 

Jeongguk waves. You smile. A wave back, and now you have each other again.

You wait outside the building, watching as the throngs disperse. Namjoon, Taehyung, and Jimin already said their goodbyes, last felicitations from them both and a promise for lunch from you somehow gets squeezed from the conversation too. The brick is hard against your back.

[9:30PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: WHERE ARE YOU [9:30PM] You: i’m outside already!!

A door bursts open. There’s an inhale, then you turn your head. Jeongguk drops his bag the second you charge for him, arms ready for your attack as you jump and wrap your legs around his waist, arms caught on his neck. You think you hear someone gasp but it’s all lost on you now. “Oh my god I love you,” he breathes, and you cry. “Babe—”

“I watched you,” you sniffle, and you frown when he laughs. “Watched you win.”

“I’m glad.”

You kiss him. “Missed you.”

Jeongguk looks like he might cry too. “Mine again?”

“Yours again.” And you mean it. 

“I would—I would invite you over to the after-party but I’m sleepy,” he says in between presses of his mouth, “and I ran out of contact solution the other day so I can’t invite you over and also Taehyung’s probably sleeping right now.”

“Then you come over.” You melt into his tongue, his feet staggering in your grind and he bites your lip.

“R-Really?” 

“Yeah, actually get some shut-eye.” He lets you off when you wriggle your ass against his hands, dragging him to the bus stop before he can put them back against your jeans or else you might really fuck him this time. “Because Taehyung snores too loud anyway.”

The ride to your apartment totals eight minutes because it’s late, and living on the edge of the suburbs means no one’s up this late anyhow. Jeongguk hadn’t even let you find a seat, balancing through red lights on his feet just to fly out the door when you’d reached your stop. You’ve already done too much running today but Jeongguk still rushes you up to your floor, and before you can get the key to your door he has you pressed up on it instead.

“Want you,” he says. Hard against your throat like he means it.

“God—let me—open my door and you have me,” you say through your teeth, gritted because the hallways echo and now Jeongguk has his thigh pressed up against you. “Babe let go—”

He does, but only with a lingering kiss promised by your burning attraction. You don’t fumble with the lock but you do stumble in from how quick you open the door, slamming shut in your haste and you hear his duffel bag meet the ground and now your back meets the hard metal again. “You have to stop shoving me into this thing oh my god.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Jeongguk whispers. He’s kissing you again. Lifts you up with no warning and you yelp into his curious mouth, dick grinding into the rough of your pants. “Fuck I—”

“Did—you want to—”

“No—wait yes, yes—I just—” He doesn’t let up. You can feel his cock straining against his sweats, flimsy layers you could just shove down but his hips are glued to your own. “I can’t—cum. Right now. Too much. Wind—wound up.”

Your tailbone is starting to dig into the door. “Then let me down and let’s just—sleep.”

“I’m sorry,” he says. One last kiss, nose meeting yours. “Still on my hockey grind.”

“Ew,” you snort. “Also don’t wear your pants to bed.”

“Oh.” He shoves his shoes off when you do. 

“I don’t like it when people wear their outside clothes on my sheets.”

“Oh.”

“But it’d be nice to wake up to your dick on my ass,” you add. Jeongguk makes a strangled noise, then carries you to bed.

“I’ll brush my teeth tomorrow,” is the last thing you remember him saying. 

The morning rushes in too soon. Your curtains aren’t closed and Jeongguk hogs the blanket, sprawled on your side of the bed no less. You weren’t kidding when you said you wanted to spoon but at least his cock is warm with something just as soft as your ass.

You settle in the calm. Jeongguk isn’t one to snore but his soft breaths are just as jarring, disbelief apparent when you realize this is the first time he’s ever slept-over at your place. As convenient as it is to live somewhere that only needed one bus ride, you’re on campus all the time; making sense meant taking up space in his res instead. But now the lump he occupies in your bed is something you think you could get used to.

(Even if he hogs the blanket.)

You’re still in your clothes from last night, but at least you had the decency to shuck off your jeans. And you’d gotten up well past Jeongguk-sleeping-hours to take off your makeup because it took you forever to pry his ridiculously strong arm off around you. You get up with a kiss to his mane of bedhead and a silent reminder to grab an extra toothbrush.

The next plan to execute on your list after washing the tired off: breakfast. And you know you don’t have eggs but you open the fridge like you’ll see the carton sitting there anyway.

You’re standing, coming to a blank for what feels like forever. You think briefly about ordering in, then remember the guilt of just grabbing groceries instead. The internal battle is cut short when you hear the creak of your bed, a long groan. Then, footsteps.

“You look sad,” Jeongguk croaks two seconds later.

You frown for effect. “I want eggs. And why are you up.”

“Come here, egghead.” Jeongguk is groggy. The sexy kind too, because his voice is a tenor that scratches the needier part in you, the one telling you to bury your face in his chest and you do just that. “I felt you move. Sorry I couldn’t wake you up with my dick against your butt.”

“S’ok. And go shower because you’re stinky.”

He lets you go. “Good morning,” he says for the first time. A domesticity you feel lightheaded from. “You should shower with me.”

“Unless you’re scared of detachable shower heads I think you’ll be fine.”

“Don’t be cocky,” he whines. “And you’re dirty too, you sweat a lot just like I do.”

That’s true. “But it’s not even a hair washing day.”

“Why are you resisting me, woman.” He brings two hands up, wiggling his fingers. “I’ll tickle you.”

“You will not—”

“I will tickle you and if you don’t shower with me I will cry.”

You huff. “Fine.” He leads you down the hall to the bathroom, satisfied in his quick win, back flexing when he takes his shirt off. “And I’m the cocky one.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” he says. You know he’s baiting but you don’t want to resist him anymore. “You need to turn the shower on because I don’t know how to.”

Getting naked is a different kind of intimate when you’re not in the bedroom. You know this because Jeongguk can’t even look your way when you’ve stripped, but you’re shivering like he’s staring.  You step into the tub before he can back out. He doesn’t come in till the water’s running.

You like it hot. Jeongguk—not so much by the looks of his hesitation, so you compromise with a slight shift of the knob and a switch in place so he’s under the pelt of water. He’s all hard muscle under your hands. “Hope you like cherry blossom.”

He doesn’t say anything. Grabbing the loofah you spurt your pink soap, lathering it on his chest first. Jeongguk just stares. “I really missed you,” he says.

You nod. Nodding fast to keep yourself from thinking too hard because then you might start getting soft. “Me too,” you croak out. “Want me to wash your hair?”

Jeongguk just brushes his lips against yours in answer. You’ve just reached over his shoulders to get the back of his neck but he forces you back into the tiles, back inundated with cold hardness and there’s no room for complaint when your tits press against Jeongguk’s skin like this. He groans a desperate sound into your pliant mouth. “I—I don’t wanna wait anymore.”

You pause. “For what?”

“I don’t—know—I—just having you here again. Makes me want to do everything.”

You are enveloped in mist and so much longing. “Let me finish then we’ll—go back.” You don’t know if you want to focus southward because one look at his dick and you’ll fall to your knees. “Turn around.”

He does. The glass of the divider fogs up in your intimacy. You give a half-hearted scrub along his skin, focusing on the grime you can’t see. Can’t think.

“Okay you know—I think we’re good,” you say, voice tight.

“Come here.” Jeongguk spins to find you again, a hard kiss into you and you feel his dick press up against your stomach. “Towels.”

“Turn off the shower.” You push open the door, shaking legs dripping onto the floor as you scramble to wrap yourself in warmth other than Jeongguk. He grabs the other one, quick passes over his skin before he drops it to the floor and nearly bowls you over to get you out into the bed room.

It’s bright. Jeongguk reads your mind. “Can I—shut the blinds?”

“Please.”

He goes to twist the plastic while you dry off the last remnants of water clinging to your skin, and before you know it Jeongguk has you lain flat across the tangled blankets, legs dangling from the side of the bed. “God I tried really hard to have a normal morning with you but I—just can’t anymore.” He kneels over you. “Please tell me you feel the same.”

You could go on about how quick the one-eighty was. From your thoughts about breakfast to this absolutely insatiable need for your boyfriend to insert whatever valid body part he could use into your pussy. But you and Jeongguk are never conventional, and going too fast is an illusion now. 

You have each other again, and no one’s counting the seconds anymore.

“Will you fuck me?” You ask.

“Yes,” he decides, and he unwraps the towel you’d clung onto before pressing downwards and caving into your lips. “I—have never wanted you so goddamn bad in my life, oh my god.”

“Good,” you choke on your breath because Jeongguk slips down your throat with his tongue and a pucker of his lips. “Ah—!”

A bloom of your slick runs through your cunt when he sucks hard on your skin, thumbs a shy presence on your breasts but they peak under the pressure. “You have the cutest tits,” he says. 

“Shut up.” You flare with embarrassment. “You can—be more rough.”

Jeongguk twists your nipples and you pant. “Like that?”

“Suck on them too. Make it—hurt.” His eyes flutter, determined in your command. Mouth a hot suction, laving you with his spit. His teeth graze in a bite and you moan. “Fuck—yeah. That’s so good…”

He stays like this: feeding into your sounds with sloppy grips of his tongue, suckling till your tits pop out his mouth and your hands find the nape of his neck in desperation. “Ugh—please—”

Jeongguk slurps on a nipple. “Get up there.”

You scramble up the bed, comfortably nestled in the centre and Jeongguk’s fingers go to spread your pussy,   cheeks heating in the sound of wet. He sighs.

“Do you want to cum now?”

You dip your head. “Please.”

He settles on his stomach, diving in to latch onto your clit, sucking that has your head thrown back further with every inch he covers with the jerk of his tongue. Honed in on the dangerous tip that could have you teetering over in a second and your hips pull back, but his hands take your bucking and locks you down to his attention. Too much so and now you wail. “Oh my g—od.”

Curses caught in the grit of your teeth because now he licks the stretch of your cunt like he’s thirsty. Jeongguk’s good at making you want more when you don’t know what means. “Gonna—use a finger.”

“Fuck, yeah. Yeah.” He curls in and up, a sweet crevice touched. Eyes rolling back as you puff. “Holy fu-uck yeah, finger it.”

“Wanna beg?” He suggests. Challenging.

“You’re asking me to?”

“I’m begging you to,” Jeongguk snickers.

“Then—” you settle up on your elbows, watching the minute thrusts into your cunt like a lazy cartoon— “please use another finger. And—make me cry this time.”

His eyes bulge in your confidence. Pulls out; now there’s two hard intrusions and it digs into a sweeter part inside, a touch that has you keening right into the pillow, drool smearing on the sheet. Clit sitting pretty on his wet tongue and you’d let him have it all day if he asked. Then Jeongguk thrusts in a drill so hard you vibrate. “O-O-Oh my fuuuuuuck—”

He curves into your loudness. “So fucking sexy,” he praises, rushing right through you and onto his fingers. “So wet—”

“Ugh—!” Your sobbing isn’t a tearful one but the scratch in your throat is smarting. Jeongguk swipes right over your nub. Leans up, fingers still a consistent presence and now his tongue is teasing yours, a muscle spasm more than anything and you can’t fucking breathe.

“Sit on my face,” he says.

“You—really?”

“I might cum.” Oh. He looks at you, eyes a wonder of pleasured agony. Probably because he’d been grinding into the sheets like last time but now you’re even more gone.

“Okay,” you gulp, and Jeongguk rolls over. Knees above his shoulders, using his elbows to slide along the mattress till you’re settled comfortably over his eager mouth. “You okay?”

“Fuck yeah.” He pulls on your thighs until his neck doesn’t strain up anymore, a stretch you can ignore if only to feel the traction of his rough love on your sensitivity. “This is—so hot.”

“Are you—pulling on pornographic roots right now?”

He hums into a suction. “Yeah.”

“What else have you thought about?” You can’t see his entire face from your view, but his forehead is scrunched. Thinking hard for you.

“Nothing—crazy,” he says. He kisses your leaking cunt. “Always wanna make you feel good. But it’d be hot if I choked you, yeah.”

“Oh—”

“Whatever you like,” Jeongguk decides. “I like whatever you like.”

“I would like it if you made me cry,” you contend.

He doesn’t say anything else. Jeongguk squeezes your ass, neck straining to get you dribbling on the tip of his tongue, pleasure pulled from the bottom of your stomach into moaning so loud you’re worried for the thinness of your walls. “Oh my god I’m close—don’t stop—”

Your pussy grinds right into it. His fingers are lax on your skin like he’s given up if it means you feed into your own demise. And you do: grating all your nerves from Jeongguk’s insistence into your sex and your hands tangle into his hair. “Oh fuck I’m—Jeongguk—!”

The feeling settles heavy in your pussy. Taken with a vehemence you’d praise forever and Jeongguk is nothing but passionate, a power translated through all his work and one he insists on when he paints your cunt like it’s his favourite thing to do. His hands tighten their grip on your ass, nearly falling over when his tongue slides like that—

“I’m cumming—oh my god I’m—fuck!”

Your eyes sting. It bursts—starting on Jeongguk’s tongue and spreading so fast you can’t tell up from down.  Moans wrenched from your chest and you can’t catch your breath, even when you push yourself off from Jeongguk because you can’t stop riding into it. “Ah—oh fuck.” You’re sniffling.

“Babe wait did I actually make you cry?”

“Yes you idiot, come here.” And Jeongguk crawls over you, kiss-ready, lips wet on yours. “Do you—is it—are you okay? Do you wanna try now?”

“Sure,” he says. “I just—might not last too long.”

“We take it slow,” you say. He nods. “Got condoms?”

Jeongguk looks sheepish but he nods again. “Please don’t ask me why I have them on me.”

“I’m asking why you have them on you.”

He groans. “Let me just—get them from my bag.” And he runs, hard penis and all, outside to the bag he’d left outside in your haste to the bed. He’s not even gone for two seconds before he has the string of foil in his hand. “Remember there was a party last night? Taehyung gave them to me just in case—you know. Something happened.”

“Good friend. Do you—have lube too?” 

Jeongguk pales. “No.”

“Come here,” you order instead, because you’re ridiculously wet anyhow. He gets closer, lying down when you push his chest down. “Don’t worry ‘bout it. Just wanna kiss you.”

He lets you. You stay in this moment, a precursor to a new era if you were being dramatic about it. But having him so soft and yielding under you like this makes you want to enjoy it, bit by bit. “I love you,” he says.

You mold into him. “I love you too.” Reaching over for one of the foils, you tear it as Jeongguk stares with a still chest. The condom rolls easily. “Okay?”

“Yep.”

Then you sit on top of him, your own breath caught in the butterflies jumbled in your stomach, a flit when his hands come to rest on your thighs. Nerves tangling with his and you feel the low tremors in his body. Your pussy glides along his dick lying pretty on his stomach. You tangle your hands with his. “Don’t be nervous,” you whisper.

Jeongguk gulps. “Just—kiss me again.”

You lean back down, his hands tightening yours when you meet him again. “Are you okay?”

His eyes are closed. “Yes—yes. You can put it in. Please.”

“Just—say the word and I’ll stop.”

He nods.

There’s a lump in your throat. You want it to be good for him. The griping all his friends did had done a great deal for your sex life, yeah. But the point of his comfort was crossed so many times you feared he’d back out by this time. And now he waits: waits for your go, on your own time, because the last thing he wanted to do was pressure you too. You know it in his attention, his quiet insistence on making you cum first. His patience for you to come back to him. Waiting so that you could get comfortable before he did, because he’s only ever comfortable when you are. 

You hold the base of his dick, tip straight below your core, positioned at the height of both your breaths.

You sink down.

It’s a scarcity, to feel this good from the get-go. A prodding that pinches a little stretches you right, Jeongguk’s length gloved in your heat, so much heat because he groans. “Oh my god.”

“Is that—okay?”

“Yes—”

His hands find your hips when your knees drop down even further. Slow, slow, slow; so wet because he makes you feel it—until you bottom out. Jeongguk shivers. “Tell me—when I can move.”

You watch his eyebrows scrunch up, teeth gritting when you shift to ease the weight on your legs. “I’m good. I’m good, please move, fuck.”

You do. You pick up to an easy pace, not straining yourself but enough for the tip of his dick to hit a spot in your gut that has you cooing. Your hands find his chest. “Ooh—fuck yeah.”

“Is it good—for you?” Jeongguk pants, bucking his hips when he watches your tits bounce. 

“Yeah. Feels so good…” You trail off, getting used to the feel of something so much thicker than his fingers. A burn you can’t say you haven’t missed, teasing your insides and you squeeze.

“Baby—that—fuck—” He’s sweating. His forehead shines, hair caught on his skin. His chest is a flushed, wet where your palms meet him because you’re getting a little winded now. But the little grunts he lets out every time you bounce is enough to keep you going. 

“Do you think—you can cum like this?”

His grin is sheepish. “N-No.”

You opt for a closer grind then. “How do you want me?”

“Your back,” he says, hesitant. “Let me—fuck you from the edge of the bed.”

You can do that. You lift up till his dick lies wet on his belly, sheets a mess under your bum when you let Jeongguk get up to move you the way he wants. He stands, one knee on the mattress as he spreads your legs, pussy served like it’s his to take. Makes a grab for his dick; jostles around a bit on your clit to see your hole tighten, stomach clenched. 

He presses in slow just to see you shiver. In control of your pleasure again, and you sigh into the sheets. 

“Oh my god.” You grasp the blankets, elbows strong to watch what you now know is the visual of Jeongguk fucking you. A little stilted in his rhythm, but only because he’s getting used to the feel of your pussy like this. 

You don’t care for the semantics of proper fucking. As long as his hips meet your ass in the beat you can only call nasty. The squelch of your arousal is loud. “Fuck—baby…”

“Yeah—feels so good.” Buried deep in your walls and maybe you could learn the ridges of his dick like this: lain here for him to use, cunt fit only for his pleasure. A position you’d gladly take everyday from now on because fuck if this isn’t heavenly. 

You know he feels it too when his chest picks up in his panting, dick a piston now and you mewl. 

“Yeah—faster, baby—like that—!”

“Shit—” Smearing your walls with your own slick, made for him to dirty. A push so vigorous you would be sliding if it weren’t for Jeongguk’s tight hands on you, and all you can do is take it. “Babe I’m close—”

And he bends down, kissing you with a pant into your mouth because he’s getting spent, efforts all going into your pleasure. He still thrusts. “Cum. Cum when you can, fuck.”

“What about—”

You shut him up with another press of your lips. “I’m fine.”

He leaves it at that. Jeongguk leans up again, adjusting one more time till he’s got both knees on the bed, cock a heady presence inside your sex and he gives it hard now. You’re trying not to squeeze so hard around him but it’s getting difficult; seeing him so focused, his eyes wild, sweat dripping on his shoulders. Sweltering in your heat and love and novelties—defiling him but in the best way possible. “I love you,” he chokes. “Oh my god I might—”

“Give it to me,” you whisper.

He does. Your pussy is still in Jeongguk’s indulgence, his whines escalating until he groans out: “I’m cumming—”

Jeongguk slams into you, a final push for your core and he croons into your neck. Streams of his pleasure in the form of a long sigh, his pulses inside. And maybe you’re dumb but you’re laughing and crying again, arms wrapping around his neck, swaying him back and forth as he calms down. 

“How was that?” You ask.

He’s crying, too. You wipe his under-eye when he takes one more kiss. “Best ever,” he says. “I’ll make you cum.”

“You don’t need to—” But his thumb is already on your clit, still wet from his doing and you force your hips to stillness— “Jeongguk no—”

“I wanna feel you cum around my dick,” he says, and the plea is enough for you to tighten and cry even more. It hurts, a nudge of pain but it’s already beginning to spread into pleasure—

“Jeongguk—”

You cum into his kiss, walls clenching into an orgasm so sweet your toes tingle. A ripple of pleasure running through all of you and he moans like he feels it too. 

Out of breath. It’s hot under his skin.

“So. Who do we tell first?”

Jeongguk laughs. “Maybe we can decide over breakfast.”

And you feel something, better than orgasmic bliss, the pleasure of a tryst: the simplicity of being in love. Jeongguk makes you feel like you can do anything.

“Eggs?” You ask.

His tongue is sweet. “Eggs.”