#I swear give me ten mins alone with him

[h4unted-d4rling]

I don’t want to fix Bill Cipher. I’ll take him as he is and then I’ll give him awesome chaos ideas until he falls in love with me and then we’ll both make each other worse. I would have joined him. I am NOT a coward.

[callme-holly]

Can you do a three times the gang almost caught and the one time they did with two dal or steve

But the reader is also a Curtis? Like their sister?

𝐇𝐞’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭, 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐇𝐞’𝐬 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐈 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐭 [𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐝]

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - i'm so sorry this took so long omg. I'm really trying to be faster but my attention span is so short and I just can't sit down for longer than 10 mins. I will probably also end up writing this sort of fic for Two-bit and Steve too, only bc I have literally nothing for them yet lmaoo. Anyways, hope ya'll enjoy and as always my asks are still open for requests!!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 3.5k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - mild swearing, mentions of fighting

0.1 - more charm than sense 

The Curtis home is unusually quiet; everyone either out or at work. 

The radio plays on low, some commercial station that only seems to play the same ten songs before switching back to the first and replaying them all without end. 

You’re standing in front of the sink, towel in hand, and as you clean up the remnants of breakfast, your brother’s dirty plates are dumped haphazardly atop the counter in a less than neat pile. The water runs clear under your steady hands, and for a moment you forget that you aren’t entirely alone in the house, too focused on cleaning up to notice anything further than the sound of your own breathing and the light static of the radio.

You're so lost in thought that you barely register the lingering presence behind you, only startling once a familiar pair of arms wind themselves around your waist from behind, the familiar scent of cigarette smoke and cheap, most likely stolen, cologne filling your senses. Lips are pressed against the base of your neck, and a chin rests on your shoulder. The sudden weight is warm and familiar. 

“I thought ya invited me over to spend some time with me, doll, not clean.” Dallas drawls, his voice rough and his accent heavy. You can feel him smile into your skin as you sigh, letting go of the cloth in favour of turning towards him and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. His hands fall to your hips, and his thumbs trace lazy patterns into your skin. 

“I didn’t invite you, Dal,” You raise your brows, “You climbed in through my window.” 

Dallas laughs lowly in response, shrugging nonchalantly as he drops a kiss on the corner of your lips. “Didn't expect ya to be so preoccupied.” He trails off, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and nipping lightly along your jawline. “Thought I’d be gettin’ more attention than this.” 

You roll your eyes fondly in response, but don’t move away as he continues peppering kisses down your jaw and collar, your hands wandering idly to the hem of your shirt. You’re quick to slap him away, fixing him with a warning look. He just grins lazily, leaning in close enough to press his lips just below your ear. 

“Dallas.” Your tone is stern, and it has absolutely no effect whatsoever on the greaser, who merely hums in reply, hands moving back to your waist to pull you closer. “Not here.”

Dallas’ grip tightens for a moment, and he pulls back, tilting his head to the side. “C’mon, doll… You’re brothers are gone; what’s there to worry about?” There’s a wicked grin on his lips as he steps away from you and leans against the kitchen counter, watching you carefully. 

It had been a mutual agreement to hide your relationship from the gang, a decision made to spare you from the headache Darry would no doubt give you and the black eye Dallas would receive for even thinking about touching you. You knew it was stupid to try hiding things from the gang, especially when they could see right through you like nobody else did, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to tell them.

Darry would probably skin you if he found out you were dating a hood like Dally, and you didn’t want to risk it. 

“There’s plenty to worry about,” you conclude, turning back to the sink. “What if Two-Bit or Johnny decide they wanna pay little old me a visit, huh, and they catch us here in the kitchen?” 

Dallas chuckles before placing his hands on your shoulders, leaning in close to whisper directly into your ear, “They won’t catch us, darlin’. They haven’t yet.” His hands begin to wander once more, and you drain the sink with a sigh, trying to find what little composure you have left to resist him and his words. He's relentless, damn him, and you know better than to hope for any sort of peace and quiet when you're home and alone.

His lips continue to trail a line down your neck, mouthing teasingly along the sensitive skin before moving back to your lips. This time, however, you give in, your fingers threading into his hair as you meet his eager advance. 

It's almost too easy to lose yourself in the haze of the moment, so much so that you hardly notice the thumping of footsteps on the porch until the screen door opens suddenly and Sodapop’s voice rings out.

“Y/N! You here?” His voice is loud with excitement as always, and you’re quick to jump away from Dallas, your eyes wide with surprise. 

“What the hell?” You hiss, glancing around the room frantically before spotting before your gaze lands on the bathroom door. You shove Dallas towards it, mumbling under your breath as you do so. “Get your ass outta here.” He snorts quietly, following your gaze and pressing a kiss to your cheek before closing the door behind him just as Soda rounds the corner in search of you. He beams brightly, and you let out a sigh of relief. 

“You’re home early…” You start, and he shrugs, heading to the dining table to grab his lunch which is still sitting where you’d left it out this morning. 

“Forgot this,” He holds up the bag and you roll your eyes internally. Typical. 

“You know,” You head back to the sink, taking out the now-clean dishes and stacking them back in the cupboard. “Sometimes I wonder how you’ve lived this long.” 

Soda smirks and raises an eyebrow, backing towards the door, lunch now in hand. “What can I say? What I lack in sense, I make up for in charm.” He winks, flashing a cocky grin as he leaves the house, the door banging shut behind him.

You watch to make sure he's completely gone before jogging to the bathroom and throwing open the door. “I told you this would happen.” You start, but stop short when you see that the room is empty.

The only sign that anybody had even been in here in the first place is the open window, the lingering scent of cigarette smoke, and that stupid cheap cologne that lingers in the air.

“Goddamnit, Winston…”  You huff, shaking your head and walking over to pull the window shut. 

0.2 - some unwanted visitors  

There’s a slight chill in the air; the summer nights slowly beginning to turn cooler as fall begins its slow, sleepy crawl across the state. 

Dallas has an arm thrown lazily over your shoulders, a cigarette dangling between his lips as he presses close, and a smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. You lean into him slightly, savouring the warmth surrounding him and feeling content in his hold. A comfortable silence falls over the two of you, neither wanting to break it nor quite being comfortable staying silent either.

“So... I suppose you're wanted back before curfew, huh?” Dallas eventually drawls, shifting slightly to lean his head against yours. You let out a small laugh, leaning further into him and  allowing your cheek to rest against his chest.

“You know it,” You murmur, and he hums, his fingers tracing little circles on the small of your back absentmindedly. “Darry thinks I'm out with friends again, so you’ll have to drop me off at the end of the street.”

The greaser frowns at that, a faint crease forming between his brows. “I ain’t lettin’ you out of my sight, doll, 'specially not this late.” He looks almost offended that you'd even suggest such an idea, and you shake your head, looking up at him. 

“Dal, I can handle myself. I don’t need you watching my ass 24/7.” 

He rolls his eyes, giving you an indignant scoff. “You ain’t got to act all high and mighty, doll. You know I ain’t going to let you walk alone.” He leans in, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he whispers the next part. “Besides, we both know you like it when I watch your ass.” He pulls back then, grinning wildly when you roll your eyes dramatically, pushing him away. 

“Whatever, Winston,” You mutter, a coy smile tugging at the corners of your lips as he reaches for your hand, lacing your fingers together loosely. “But seriously, though, I’ll be fine.” 

Dallas simply grunts, choosing to drop the subject, giving you no further argument. You know he’ll still insist on walking you to your porch, regardless of whether your brothers spot you or not.

He thrives on adrenaline and the thrill of getting caught is just too much for him to resist. 

You both turn back to the movie playing on screen—some old beach movie with a plot no different from every other. It's cliche and unrealistic, but you're willing to put up with it just so you and Dallas can spend time together without hiding. 

It's not until halfway through the movie that you spot a familiar pair of faces making their way towards your row of seats, too caught up in their debate to spot you. Dallas currently has his head buried in the crook of your neck, the movie long since forgotten as he trails kisses along your jawline, and you're barely keeping your attention focused on the screen.

“Dal,” Your tone is hard, and you elbow him sharply in the ribs, eliciting an annoyed groan. “We’ve got company.” 

Dallas turns to glance towards the end of your row, and, sure enough, there stands none other than your brother Ponyboy Curits and Two-Bit Mathews, both of whom are yet to notice you both. 

“Shit,” He growls under his breath, arm slipping from around your shoulder as he turns his body away from them. “What’re they doin’ here?” 

You give him a half-hearted shrug, scanning the area for a way out and coming up short. The closest exits are the ones closest to your brother and Two-Bit, and you have no doubt that they’ll spot you if you try to make a break for it.

You're about to suggest going the long way and cutting through the crowds when suddenly someone comes up behind you, hands slamming into your shoulders and your voice cutting through your internal panic.

“Y/N Curtis!”

You whip your head around, meeting the gaze of Two-Bit, who is grinning like a madman. Dallas lets out a grunt of irritation, crossing his arms over his chest and shooting the two boys a cold look.

“What’d you want?” He snaps, and Ponyboy frowns, looking over at you curiously.

“I thought you told Darry you were out with friends tonight?” 

Your eyes widen, and your face heats instantly. “Well…” You trail off. “There was a change of plans.” 

Pony raises an eyebrow, seemingly sceptical at your words, as Two sits himself down in the seat beside you, stretching out and taking a sip from his drink. Dallas says nothing, his expression darkening, and you feel him tense up beside you. 

There's an awkward pause, broken only by the crackling audio of the movie, before Dal huffs impatiently and rises from his chair. He shoots you a look, and you instantly understand, standing in your own chair. 

“We’re going to go grab some drinks.” You state this before turning on your heel and following Dallas away from the seats, weaving through the rows until you find a secluded spot, away from the larger crowds and the prying eyes of the two greasers.

Ponyboy and Two-Bit watch to both go, frowning in confusion before Two raises a brow. “They seem pretty close.”

Pony shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “My sister isn’t stupid enough to date a hood like Dally.”

Oh, how wrong they are…  

0.3 - who’s jacket is that? 

You’re at the DX, leaning back against one of the gas pumps as you listen to whatever wild story Steve is telling you. His hands flail around dramatically, and you nod along slowly, only half paying attention as Dallas comes to stand beside you, a cigarette hanging lazily between his lips. 

He doesn't speak, simply resting a subtle hand against your lower back, his fingers drawing lazy patterns into your skin. Your mind races, and you take note of the people around you. How could any of your friends notice the small display of affection happening between the two of you? But they all seem too caught up in their own conversations to notice. 

Steve’s voice cuts through your thoughts just then, drawing you from your reverie and your attention away from Dallas. 

“And then she tosses her milkshake right in this asshole’s face and leaves!” You have no idea what he's talking about, but let out a small laugh regardless, at least trying to look somewhat interested in what he’s saying.

Dallas shifts a little next to you; the pressure of his hand is now more noticeable against your lower back, and you know that he knows you're distracted. You can almost sense the smirk he’s holding back, and you resist the urge to turn and glare at him, instead focusing back on Steve and the other boys, their mindless chatter continuing for a few moments longer before Johnny speaks up, his tone laced with curiosity.

“Hey, Y/N, is that a new jacket?” 

You turn to stare at the boy, brows furrowed in confusion. “Huh?” You glance down, and you swear your heart stops for a moment. You're still wearing Dallas' jacket. Shit. 

Quickly, you clear your throat, hoping that the colour flooding your cheeks isn’t too obvious. “Oh… Uh–” By now, all eyes are on you; the previous conversation has long been forgotten in favour of watching you intently. It’s uncomfortable, and just as you’re about to offer up a poor attempt at an answer, Steve pipes up again, his brow furrowed. 

“Ain’t that your jacket, Dal?” He looks over at the greaser beside you, and Dallas hums, taking another drag of his cigarette. There’s a small smirk on his face, his eyes flickering down at you before he gives a shrug, blowing out a thin cloud of smoke. 

“Dunno. Could be.” He states this nonchalantly, hooking his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans and slouching against the gas pump. “It looks awfully similar.” 

You swallow hard, averting your gaze as the gang glances back over at you, all sharing the same confused expressions. It seems Dallas isn't going to offer up any more on the subject, so with a few heavy sighs, everyone seems to drop it, returning to their previous conversations. 

Letting out a small sigh of relief, you turn to look up at Dallas, who is still grinning smugly. His hand rests comfortably on your back once more, his fingers resuming their rhythmic pattern, and you allow your shoulders to relax a little, knowing he’ll tease you relentlessly later on. 

“They look awfully comfortable.” Steve remarks quietly, nodding his head in yours and Dallas's general direction. It seems your fond expression for the hood hasn’t gone unnoticed, and Soda snorts, nudging his buddy in the ribs. 

“What’re you talking about?” He raises a brow, taking a rag from his pocket and wiping off the oil staining his hands. His attention moves to you and Dallas, a knowing look spreading across his features as he watches the two of you interact and an impossibly soft look in Dally’s eyes as you talk to him. 

He can’t help but notice the jacket once more, how it’s just a little too big on you, and how it looks a little too much like Dallas’s to just be a coincidence. No, there’s no doubt in his mind about who exactly owns it, and if the smug smirk tugging at the corners of Dallas’ lips is anything to go by, then maybe, just maybe, Steve is right. 

Things are slowly starting to add up. 

0.4 - caught...

It’s early evening, and the sun is sinking low in the sky, casting dim rays of golden light throughout the room. It’s peaceful; the excitable chatter of the gang in the living room fills the air, muffled by your closed door. 

Dallas has his head resting in your lap, a cigarette held loosely between his fingers as he blows smoke out through your open window. His eyes are closed tight, bruises and cuts litter his face, and his skin is stained with blood and dirt. He doesn’t speak, merely wincing as your fingertips trail over his wounds, stopping occasionally to press gentle kisses to his hair. 

There’s a nasty gash above his eye, the blood trickling freely in little rivulets, and you wipe at it lightly with a wad of gauze, the sting of the alcohol drawing a pained grunt from the greaser.

“Do ya have to do that?” 

You give him a sympathetic smile, brushing your lips over his forehead tenderly. “Sorry,” you mutter, running your fingers through his matted hair. “I’m almost done.” 

Dallas doesn't move; he just stays silent, letting you dab gently at his injuries, his expression unreadable.

You never know how he's going to act after a rumble. Sometimes, he's fine, joking around and teasing with the others, but then there’s those small moments where the tension from the fight doesn’t dissipate, where he sits in complete silence, letting you work without complaint. 

These are the times when you worry, when it becomes obvious that he is hurting. He won’t tell you, not directly at least, but you know something's wrong. You can tell in the way he holds onto you, his face hidden from view, as his hands grip desperately at the fabric of your shirt. 

“Dal,” You murmur softly, and your tone is soft and soothing. “Talk to me.” Your fingers trail softly through his hair, gently scratching at his scalp, and you notice his shoulders drop a little. He exhales heavily, pressing his cheek against your thigh, his eyes closed tightly.

“Not right now,” His voice is thick and rough, and words slurred slightly as he struggled to stay awake. Your eyebrows furrow as a soft sigh escapes your lips, reaching your free hand out to brush over his bruised jaw. It's rare to see him so vulnerable and obviously upset, and it hurts knowing that he will bottle things up and hide them away until he’s forced to let it all out. 

You don’t push, though. Instead, you take his hand in yours, running your thumb over his bruised knuckles as you lay back against the pillows. The movement causes Dallas to shift slightly, and he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you impossibly close, and he drifts off within seconds. 

You let your slip shut, allowing yourself to drift easily along with him, content to lay here with him and wait patiently until he’s ready to talk. 

“Hey, where’s Dally and Y/N?” Pony’s voice breaks through the cheerful laughter of the gang as they bounce around the living room, most still high on adrenaline and excitement, only slowing down slightly once the question reaches their ears. 

They all glanced about the space, their eyes scanning over every possible corner, before coming to rest with each other, sharing the same look of confusion. 

Darry pushes himself up from his chair with a sigh, tossing the first-aid kit in his lap to Soda, who catches it with ease. “Y/N is in her room. She might know where Dallas is.” The gang all watches as he heads down the hall, stopping just outside your door to knock softly. 

When there's no response, he frowns, glancing back towards the gang before knocking again. Still nothing. With a quick shrug, he turns the doorknob gently, pushing open the door and peeking inside.

Your bedroom is dark except for the faint glow emanating from your desk lamp, which illuminates the walls with a soft pale glow. Darry is about to call out to you, about to question you on where Dallas is, when he spots the hood in question asleep with his head in your lap. 

His breath hitches, and he pauses, his gaze wandering to you, your fingers threaded through his blonde locks. 

“Soda. Pony.” Darry calls quietly, catching both brothers’ attention immediately as he speaks. “Get over here.”

The two boys scramble up from their places on the couch, racing across the room and peering into your darkened room curiously, their eyes widening at the sigh before them.

“Well, damn.” Sodapop lets out a low whistle as the rest of the gang come up behind them. Two-Bit lets out a short laugh, and Steve cuts him off with a sharp elbow to the ribs. “I told you,” the former whispers, grinning broadly. “I told you they had something going on!” 

The group all share a look, the sound of Darry clearing his throat echoing in the quiet house. Slowly, he backs out of the room. closing the door once more and letting out a breath. 

There are words that will need to be had, promises that need to be made, but he supposes that can wait for another time. Right now, he'll let you and Dallas have your moment because it seems it's been long awaited. And it certainly has.

𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬!!

[monsterswithimagines]

Undisclosed Desires - Part 6

Joe Goldberg x female!Reader

Summary: Twenty minutes before he would have met Guinevere Beck, Joe meets you instead. You intruige him, but it will soon become clear that there is something off about you.

Words: 845

Masterlist

Saturday can't come soon enough. I feel like this week has lasted an entire year.

Then it's finally Saturday morning. I'm happy to go to work today, because at the end of the morning shift, you'll be waiting for me. My reward for my work. You won't even mind that I won't have time to change out of my usual clothes - it's a deliberate choice on my end, because you like how I look. You told Nadia about it on Twitter just three days ago.

@MoonShadow_: waarom zijn jongens in boekwinkels altijd zo lekker 😭😭

Which translates to: why are boys in bookstores always so hot

I didn’t realize you were thinking this way, (Y/n). If I'd known, maybe I would have made a move already.

Candace wasn't nearly this hard to read.

Candace wouldn't have been worth all this waiting, though.

I'm not ashamed to admit that Candace was a wrong choice. I thought I saw something in her that wanted to be known by me, to be taken care of, but I was wrong. You, on the other hand, are unknown to almost everyone except your dear childhood friend. It must be so lonely. But when you're with me, you won't have to be alone anymore.

Ethan notices I'm distracted today, but he doesn't say anything about it. He's happy to take over the regular customer service duties if it means I'll run up and down the basement stairs carrying heavy books from eight to twelve. Ethan is the kind of guy who swears by a Kindle.

You'd never use a Kindle, would you? I can't imagine it. You buy books way too often to bother about something as asinine as digital reading.

Maybe if I tell you the Kindle is everything that's wrong with modern-day America, you'll laugh and agree with me. But then again, maybe you'll just think I'm a ‘gatekeeping dick’. That's what you called someone on Twitter when they said The Secret History was awful and that only insufferable, snobbish, self-absorbed, classist rich kids would ever think to read this shit. Don't kill me, (Y/n), but I kind of agree with the guy. One day you'll see my side.

I kind of agree with you too, though: the world needs to learn how to read again, it doesn't matter where they start.

I used to judge people for what they bought at Mooney's, but now I don’t anymore. At least they're reading. You're making me a better person that way. You're making me realize that even if people are just reading whatever bullshit they saw on TikTok, at least they're reading.

It's one pm, and you're late. I'm not too upset about it, though. You texted me about an hour ago.

YOU: omigod joe!!!

YOU: my boss is super pissed i forgot to send a client this important email

YOU: i gotta fix my mistake i might be like

YOU: 15 mins late

ME: Don't worry. Take your time.

YOU: 😅

I didn't reply to your smiley. What on earth am I meant to say to a picture of a smiling face? Besides, a smiley isn't worth nearly as much as your actual smile.

And there you are.

Only ten minutes late. It could have been worse.

You look flushed like maybe you ran here, and your hair is a mess so you've covered it with a beanie again, but you also look so happy to see me. I'm happy to see you, too.

You hug me.

“I'm so sorry,” you say. I'm not sure what you're apologising for, because I'm still trying to get over the fact that you hugged me. “I've had such a crazy morning.”

“You're not even that late,” I assure you, which is true. Candace used to be hours late, sometimes. Sometimes she didn't show up at all. “Do you mind giving me a minute? I want to wash my hands and stuff.”

I don't need a minute. I've been ready to leave for a while now. But I think you might need some time, and I can tell you won't ask for it.

“Yeah, yeah,” you say. “No problem.”

So I turn and I head to the bathroom. This means leaving you alone with Ethan, which may be risky. Ethan might say something stupid, or something about me. But then again, I don't think he'd ruin ‘getting some tail’ for me.

In the bathroom, I wash my hands and check my hair. I look how I always do after a shift at Mooney's, but I think that's fine.

You look beautiful, (Y/n). It's too soon to tell you something like that, but you do.

I emerge. You look calmer now. You're waiting in the office - Ethan must have let you in - sitting with your hands behind your head and your feet on the table. Stretched like that, I can see a bit of the skin above your jean shorts.

It's deliberate. You're taunting me.

“Hey,” you say. “All ready?”

You're wearing make-up. You don't usually wear make-up.

“All ready,” I agree.

[sublimecatgalaxy]

Cocaine Jesus

Pairing: Fezco (Euphoria) x Reader

Song: "Why" by Dominic Fike

Summary: Reader and Fez met one day at his store, the girl drawn to him immediately. He would be lying if he said that he didn't feel the same, the need to please and spoil her consuming him. She loved the attention too, just wanting to be held and praised by him.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of sex and mentions of drugs.

Word Count:

A/n: This is based off of a request for Sugar Daddy!Fez and I thought it was genius and pure and also not pure. I love this. Also, funny story, I had a sugar daddy once so this was ironic for me to write lol.

I'm gonna be honest, I never thought that I would ever get into one of these arrangements.

I mean, I guess it was this kind of unspoken agreement, our relationship. I loved him, sure, and I'm sure he would say that he loved me too. He took care of me, I helped him whenever I could with whatever I could. I confided in him, cried to him, and he listened and did whatever he could to ease the pain.

That sounds like a normal relationship, right?

Wrong.

Because ours seemed to involve copious amounts of money thrown my way at the sight of any inconvenience. He had a lot to give away, his drug business being beyond successful. Ashtray would make fun at him, prod and make jokes about me being Fezco's sugar baby. The term 'sugar baby' just made Fez blush and look away. He didn't like to think of himself as my sugar daddy but, if I'n being honest, it's exactly what he was. Just with more feelings and way more benefits.

I didn't even have to ask most of the time, he would just send me cash without a thought, without a question. If I needed something, even if it was small, he would send me the money to get whatever I needed. Sometimes I would go out to get groceries for him and Ash, because I loved taking care of the boys, and he would just send me a message telling me, 'get something for yourself too'. It was simple things like that but it's how he showed his appreciation since he lacked the right words most of the time.

Fezco <3 What're you doin?

My eyes read over the text a few times, my head tilting eagerly as I ponder my response. He liked plain and simple responses but I also liked making him squirm.

Me Whatever it is your doing :)

I wait for a moment, my bottom lip tucked between my teeth as I watch the three little bubbles pop up, indicating he was typing.

Fezco &lt;;3 good girl.

My heart thumps wildly as I read over his message a few times, the grin on my face not fading as I squeal. I bury my face in my pillow, my quiet giggles being muffled as my phone pings again.

Fezco &lt;;3 Be ready, I'm ten mins out.

Within the next ten minutes, I'm seated in the front of Fezco's car, his hand firmly planted on my thigh as I grin.

"What's got you so happy?" He asks, his eyes flickering over to me as I shrug, my cheeks hurting from my smile. "Something's got you happy." He squeezes my thigh gently, my eyes widening as I look over at him.

"I just like spending time with you." I whisper, my hand resting atop his as he blushes bashfully, his head shaking playfully.

"Shit, you always know what to say to get me going, huh?" He asks teasingly, my head bobbing in a nod as he grins. A few quiet moments go by, Fez sighing as he clears his throat. "Hey, I had something I wanted to talk to you about." He mutters, sitting up straighter as he stops at the red light. I nod him on, my belly swimming with worry as he bites his lower lip. "I want you to, uh, come live with Ash and I." He stutters out, his eyes avoiding mine as my eyebrows pull together. "I want you close to me. Now that we're, I don't know, together. With my job, I just worry about you livin' alone." He explains under his breath, his fingers gripping the steering wheel as he pulls into his apartment complex.

A soft smile dances on my lips as I unhook my seatbelt immediately as the car stops, leaning over the middle console to press my lips against his. He seems taken back, a small gasp leaving his lips as he relaxes. Pulling me over and into his lap, his hands grip my hips as I grin, pulling away from him breathlessly. "Is that a yes cuz-"

"Yes, it's a yes!" I giggle, his head bobbing in a nod as he rolls his eyes, leaning forward to capture my lips once more.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Taglist: @jamespotterswifey @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex--awesome--22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane28282 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi @crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @letmebeyoureuphoria @rafecameronswhore @4lyssasworld

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[taesspark]

A Normal Friday Afternoon

drabble #1 from the Spellbound series

pairing: Jungkook x reader

genre: enemies to lovers (but mostly enemies so far oops), hogwarts au

word count: 2.2k 

warnings: violence (oc punches jungkook in the face), swearing

It’s a normal Friday afternoon at Hogwarts, meaning everyone is going insane. You wonder why Professor Snape even bothers teaching Potions right now since it doesn’t look like anyone is paying the slightest bit of attention. He even chose a hard potion for the class to make, individually this time. As if making it an individual assignment could stop a group of annoying 17-year-olds from wreaking havoc. 

You flicker your eyes in annoyance at Jeon Jungkook and his rowdy group of friends. They had created a game where they launch the ingredients into each others’ cauldrons, giving each other points based on how close it got. Usually you try to get along with your classmates, especially fellow Gryffindors, but Jungkook has always been the sole exception. There’s something about him that grates all of your nerves like a carrot. Maybe it’s the way he’s good at all the same things you are, but he makes it seem more effortless. Maybe it’s the way everyone thinks he’s so innocent and kind, when he’s been metaphorically (and literally) pulling on your hair since first year. 

It started with the little things. You were friendly to him, like you are to everyone, and as an 11-year-old, you had nothing to complain about. Something changed one day when you were walking past him in the hallway to class and he hit you with a hex that he hadn’t mastered yet. You remember falling to the ground in pain, watching your stinging flesh go boneless. And Jungkook? He was laughing.

You’re no less of a witch or a Gryffindor though. With your limp arm, you cast the strongest dancing hex you could muster. It worked, of course, and Jungkook was known as “Happy Feet” for at least another year for the way he danced around Hogwarts that day. 

It’s a memory you keep close, as a reminder to never trust the sweet smile and starry eyes of Jeon Jungkook. 

If you looked at all of the detentions you’ve served in your 6 years of being a Hogwarts student (and there are plenty), you’re sure 99% would have been from fighting with Jungkook, whether it’s yelling at him, cursing him, or swatting him with your broomstick in midair during Quidditch practice. Because of course he would join the Quidditch team at the same time you did. 

You’re not in the mood for fighting today, though. You’re exhausted from a frankly awful week, and you just want to finish your stupid potion, get your stupid grade, and go to your stupid dorm so you can sleep. 

Your only good friend in this potions class is a Ravenclaw girl named Nina. For a Ravenclaw, she’s chatty, and she flits around you while you grind up asphodel root for your potion. With a quick slide of your knife, you dump the crushed root into your potion. It bubbled. Beside you, Nina bubbled even more, her personality like soda that had been shaken too hard. 

“-and then Emilia told me that she asked Irene if she would go with her to Hogsmeade next weekend, but Irene said she’s already going with Jieun, but Sam told me that Jieun is going alone, so what’s even the truth? You’d think that she’d at least-” 

“Maybe you should mind your business.” You give her a sour look, and you hope it isn’t too harsh. “Just a thought.” 

Nina’s mouth curls into a rueful smile. “You’re spending too much time with Yoongi lately.” 

You crack a smile at the thought of your best friend and his (only partly true) reputation. No one dares cross Min Yoongi, a 7th year Slytherin with a killer poker face. As one of his best friends, you can see right through it. 

“There’s no such thing as too much time with Yoongi,” you grumble. 

Nina leaves you alone after that, thank god. You usually have a higher tolerance for her chattiness and gossip, but today your patience is running thin. Luckily, she knows you well enough to not seem upset at your attitude. 

You sprinkle a serum into the potion before stirring it clockwise ten times. It’s the last step of the potion, and yours is already turning the perfect shade of mint green. You count to yourself as you stir: One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight-

You don’t make it to ten. You were so goddamn close. 

“Oh, shit-”

You don’t register who curses. All you can see is a bottle of serum—someone else’s bottle of serum— being launched straight into your cauldron, and your entire potion splattering onto your front. Your robes sizzle where the potion hit them. 

“Oops.” 

You recognize that voice. How could you not? You almost want to laugh. 

Fucking Jeon Jungkook. 

The leech lumbers up to you sheepishly, scratching at the back of his head. “My bad. We were playing a game, and I missed pretty bad.” 

He chuckles a little, surveying the green ooze all over you. “Green is your color, Y/N. Maybe they should’ve put you in Slytherin.” 

You’re seething. 

A temper is not one of the traits associated with Gryffindor, but at that moment, you think maybe it should be. Lions do roar, after all. 

And roar is exactly what you do. Roar and knock Jungkook the fuck out. 

The room is in chaos: Professor Snape is yelling, Nina is telling you to calm down, Jungkook is on the ground in front of you, more shocked than hurt, and half the class is chanting “Fight!” because the adolescent urge to create violence never truly dies. 

“Take this outside!” Snape shouts at the two of you, grabbing you both by the collar of your robes. “Fight in the hallways, I don’t care, but this is not going to happen in my classroom. When you’re done, head to McGonagall’s office. I’m sure she’d like to have a word with you two delinquents.” 

Jungkook stares at you, rubbing at the bruise blooming on his cheek. 

The door swings closed, slamming in your face. With a huff, you turn around and vanish the potion residue still left on your clothes with a quick spell. You barely spare a glance for Jungkook. He stands several feet away, opening and closing his mouth like a fish. 

“Do you have something to say?” You snap. 

He opens his mouth. Then closes it. 

You roll your eyes. “Listen, Jeon. I know you did that on purpose. Very funny prank, absolutely hilarious. Truly, I’m rolling on the floor laughing right now.” 

Jungkook’s eyes drop to the floor as if he expected to see you there, laughing. 

“Let’s just go to McGonagall’s already,” you say, posture slumping at the thought of being yelled at by the intimidating professor.  

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” he says. Jungkook rolls his shoulders, and you see him gain some of his usual bravado. “We were playing a game, I already explained this to you.” 

You bark out a laugh, just one. “I’m not stupid.” 

He cocks a brow. “Are you sure? I bet my potion was better than yours even though I was dicking around for the entire class.” 

“Fuck off.” 

“Hit a nerve?” 

“No.” 

It’s like this, for the long, long, long trek from the dungeons to Gryffindor tower where McGonagall’s office is. 

“You know, you don’t have to be such an asshole all the time,” you say, turning the corner. Jungkook jogs after you to keep up. 

“I don’t? No way, all this time I thought it was mandatory.” 

He sounds more upset than snarky, and in your present state of blind rage, you don’t have a single clue why he would be upset. He’s the one who ruined your potion and got you sent to McGonagall’s office. He’s the one who has been a splinter the size of Greenland in your thumb for five years and counting. 

“Besides,” he adds, as if you wanted to have a conversation with him, “you’re the one who fucking punched me in the face. It’s kinda hypocritical to call me an asshole in this situation.” 

“That’s a really big word, Jungkook. Did you finally learn how to read?” 

Jungkook’s face crumples into a frown. “Shut up.” 

“Hit a nerve?” You mock. 

You think getting to McGonagall’s office is a relief until you’re finally there. McGonagall is all but screeching at the two of you. You’ve heard the same lecture several hundred times, but never in such a high pitch. You offer to make her some herbal tea for her throat, and she only gives you the evil eye. Jungkook snorts beside you. You ignore him, nudging him in the ribs with your elbow. 

“Never in my days…”

“...Such stupidity from my own students!”

You fade in and out of consciousness during the lecture, and one look at Jungkook tells you he’s doing the same. 

“Detention for both of you. I will see the two of you here at 9 pm sharp every day for the rest of the week,” McGonagall finally says. 

Jungkook groans. 

“I’m being generous,” McGonagall says. “If I see the two of you acting like violent animals again, I can and will suspend you both from the Gryffindor Quidditch team.” 

You and Jungkook both make sounds of protest, only to be drowned out by McGonagall. 

“I hate to see my own team lose, but it has been five years of your childish fights. You two will learn to be civil to each other, and I will make sure of it.” 

The tone of her voice makes you uneasy. Jungkook beats you to the question that’s on both of your minds. “What are you going to do to us?” 

The fear in his voice would make you smile if you weren’t practically shaking in your boots yourself. 

“As you know, in Transfiguration, I am going to be having everyone work in teams this year. I was going to let you choose your partners, but you two have not earned that privilege.” 

You turn to face Jungkook. He’s staring back at you in wide-eyed horror. 

“You both are now partners in Transfiguration. Sit by each other and complete the projects together. I will not tolerate any misbehaving in my class, and if you don’t work as a team, you will be risking your own grades.” McGonagall stares at the two of you with the smallest of smiles, disgustingly smug. She’s enjoying this, and you hate her for it. 

“But-”

“Professor!” 

“I won’t hear it!” She shouts. Jungkook recoils. “This is final. If you have a problem, you should’ve thought about that before brawling like wrestlers in Potions.” 

You hang your head, staring at how the end of your robes skims your shoes. You don’t like to be dramatic, but this sure feels like the end of the world. The rest of your year is probably ruined, thanks to McGonagall essentially sentencing you to Jungkook duty. Not to mention Transfiguration is your hardest class, even without having to compete with Jungkook. You don’t doubt that this would make everything so much harder. 

“That’s all I have to say to you. Please leave,” McGonagall says, pressing a thumb and index finger into her forehead. 

The two of you file out of her office, stumbling down the empty hallway. You walk in silence, thankful that classes aren’t out yet. You stop a few corridors down, and Jungkook stops next to you.

You look at him, really look at him. Other than the bruise on his face a la you, he has a sweet face and kind eyes. You remind yourself that it’s fake. 

You take a step closer to him, and he tilts his head at you, nonplussed. 

“Y/N?” 

You brush a hand on his cheekbone, where you hit him. 

“Does it hurt?” You ask. 

The hallway is empty, but Jungkook still looks both ways before responding to you, as if you were a car hurtling towards him on the street. He gulps at your proximity to him, how he can feel your breath mingling with his own and your fingertips’ gentle pressure on his face. 

“A little,” he says, quieter than you. “You really know how to use your fists, huh?” 

He laughs. To your ears, it sounds forced. You smile. Checkmate. 

Without warning, you grab his tie and jerk his face down to yours, leaving just a breath of space between your noses. You lean even closer to Jungkook, and a smile ghosts your lips when you feel him moving closer to you at the same time. You wait for one more moment, letting your warm breath hit his skin. The moment he closes his eyes, you whisper, “Good.” 

His eyes flutter back open, confused, and you take your foot and slam it down on his. He all but howls in pain, nearly knocking his head into yours as he hops away. 

"What was that for?"

"If you still don't know, then maybe I need to step on you again." You narrow your eyes at him, still close enough to register the clean linen smell of his clothes. “Do not cross me again. I need a good grade in Transfiguration this year, and I won’t let you ruin that for me.” 

"McGonagall is right there. I could go tell her," he threatens. His eyes are wide, and you pick up on the slightest fear under his façade of arrogance. 

"Okay, do it. See if I care, asshole." 

You spin on your heel and storm down the corridor, leaving a stunned Jungkook in your wake. 

[hyunsuks-beanie]

Just Fine, After All

Lee Know x reader; just Minho being a complete idiot

A/N It's Minho this time, since my man did the "Step Out" on Music Bank lmao. As always, I hope you like it!

He wasn't there. It was your graduation ceremony, and your boyfriend Minho had promised you that he'd be there, but of course, he wasn't. You couldn't blame him though, because you knew how hard he had been practicing for the comeback. And while you didn't want to pressure him to make time for you, you couldn't lie to yourself and say that it didn't hurt a little.

After the ceremony, you went back home, only to find that he wasn't back from practice yet. You decided to pay him a visit at the JYP building, knowing that he would most likely have not taken a break, even to eat. You cooked his favourite ramen and fried chicken, and went over to the company. By the time you reached there, you saw Changbin and Jisung leaving. When they noticed you, you guys exchanged hugs, with Jisung, who was also one of your closest friends, ruffling your hair and saying, "How'd the ceremony go? I'm sorry we couldn't be there, and I'm even more sorry that even Minho hyung couldn't make it. He's been practicing non-stop, and he still doesn't plan on leaving." "You're the only one who can get him to take a break, so we'll let you go ahead," smiled Changbin. You bid them bye, and started on your way to Stray Kids' practice room.

Opening the door, you see Minho practicing their title song. He didn't notice you, and you knew that he wouldn't do so until you cut the music off. So that's exactly what you did, by tiptoeing to the music system and switching it off. "Minho, come on. Take a break and eat something. I got your favourite food along," you said with a smile. At this, Minho abruptly turned towards you, but his expression wasn't one of surprise or happiness at seeing you there. Instead, he seemed pissed, and scary. "Minho-," you started, but he cut you off. "Did I ask you to come here? Did I ask you to bring me food? Did I say I need a break? Seriously Y/N stop being so nagging. If you don't have anything productive to do with your life, at least let me be productive with mine. Go write your stupid little thesis, instead of annoying me," He said, turning his back to you. It was only then that you realized that tears were already running down your face. "Well, if graduating from university counts as productive in your dictionary, then I guess I've done my share of productive today. Thanks for ruining my happiness, jerk."

With that, you placed the food near the door, and walked out. Minho rolled his eyes and started the music again. But after a while, he realized that he was not able to focus. He felt guilty for lashing out at you. It wasn't your fault that he was not able to perfect a particular step in the choreography. On the contrary, he had been the one at fault for not turning up at what was supposed to be one of the most important moments of your life. You must've been upset, but you still set it all aside and brought him food.

Deciding that he couldn't go on practicing any longer, and that he needed to be home and apologize to you, he left the company. On his way home, he noticed how bad the weather had become. Worry for you set in his heart, and he tried calling you, but you didn't pick up. "I hope Y/N is safe. Great job Minho, you made them walk back home in such bad weather."

As soon as he reached home, his heart sank, because the door was still locked. Entering inside, he quickly came to the conclusion that you weren't there, seeing as how all the lights were turned off. "Where could they be? Did they perhaps go to the dorm?" With that, he called Hyunjin up to ask him if you were there, to which, the younger boy replied, "Why would they be here? What did you do?" Jisung heard this, and snatched the phone away from his hands. "Where is Y/N, hyung? What did you do? Tell me they aren't in trouble." Minho told him what had happened, causing Jisung to say, "You screwed up big time, hyung. You should have apologized to them, and instead, you made them feel annoying and useless. And now, because of you, god knows where they are. I swear if something happens to them, I'll kill you."

"Nothing will happen to them Jisung, I promise. I know I messed up, but I'm gonna make things right." With that, Minho hung up, and grabbed his car keys again. He went to Han River, because he knew you liked going there when you needed some space. "I hope they're not out in the open. God, what have I done." Once he reached there, he quickly noticed you weren't there either, meaning he had to continue his search. The next stop was your favourite 24/7 coffee shop, but that too, turned out to be a dead end. Minho was close to losing his mind worrying about you, when suddenly, his mind cleared and he understood where he had to go.

Ten minutes later, he was back at the JYP building, and was running towards the rooftop at full speed. That was the place you had confessed to him, and the both of you held that spot very dear. Why hadn't he thought of that before? If you were upset with him, wouldn't you go to just the place where he had told you he loved you, seeking some reassurance? But when he reached there, and didn't see you anywhere, he started pulling at his hair, as tears threatened to spill. He was already crying, when he suddenly heard the voice he'd been searching for, for hours.

"Minho? What are you doing here in this weather? You'll catch a cold," you said softly. He turned around just the way he had earlier that day, and once again, his expression surprised you. Tears streaming down his face, he pulled you into the tightest hug ever, while peppering your face with soft kisses.

"Where were you baby? I was worried sick," he sobbed. "I was such a jerk to you today, and I can't tell you how sorry I am for hurting you like. You did nothing wrong except for caring too much for an idiot like me, and what did I do in return? Make you feel worthless and leave you alone in this weather. I don't know how I can ever make it up to you, but believe me, I really am sorry. Sorry for not being there for you on a special occasion. Sorry for making you feel unwanted. Sorry for being such a shitty boyfriend. I'm sorry for everything, and I swear, I don't know what I would have done had something happened to you."

You break away from the hug, and say, "It's okay Minho. I forgive you. I know you're tense about the comeback, and I completely understand you not being able to show up. But..... just, please don't lash out at me like that again for no reason. That really hurt me, because I felt that you didn't want me around. You made me feel as if I was annoying to you." "I swear, I will never treat you like that again babe. I'm sorry," he says through tears, making you wipe his cheeks before placing a soft kiss on his lips. "Let's just go home."

On your way back, Minho doesn't let go of your hand, making you smile to yourself. He suddenly asks, "I thought you'd be on the roof, but you weren't there. Where were you?" "I had gone up to the roof at first, because I just needed some reassurance that you hadn't meant what you said," you give him a weak smile. "But when the weather got bad, I came down to the practice room since I didn't have anywhere else to go, hoping that you would have gone home by now. And you had apparently left, so I decided to wait the storm out here. I was just on my way out of the washroom after I had done cleaning my face of all the tears and ruined makeup, when I saw you running up to the roof. I knew you were searching for me, so I followed you......"

"I'm so sorry I caused you so much trouble today baby, I'm so glad you're safe. I love you you," Minho said sadly.

"I love you too, Min," you squeezed his hand. "Now let's forget this ever happened, and go home and celebrate my graduation." "You read my mind Y/N, that's exactly what we're gonna do once we reach home," Minho gives you his signature smirk, making you shove his shoulder in false annoyance.

Seems like you two will be just fine, after all.

[talesofstyles]

Reconcile II

Ok so I know that I wrote the first part with reader insert, but after many, many attempts to keep it that way, it just didn’t work with this one. So I’d like for you to meet Emma. This is my first time writing with OC and wow game changer. I love her and I hope you do too!

Also, I honestly can’t thank my beta queens enough @oh-honey-styles @for-fucks-sake-h 🥺💛 thanks for allll the comments and suggestions and nice words!!! ily both xx

Read part I here

Harry

“So… are we okay now?”

We’re sitting here on the sofa, finally having that very much needed father-daughter date. Granted, a movie night in was not what I had in mind. I wasn’t too thrilled when she said she wanted to just go back home after we dropped George at his classmate’s house for a birthday sleepover. I thought she would hole up in her room instead and ignore me. But she didn’t. I got us pizza for tea, and we’ve got Shrek 2 on the telly. Her animosity towards me disappeared just like that after she asked for a puppy the other day. Of course, I’m glad to have my happy-go-lucky daughter back, but deep down I know that we need to have a proper chat. The change in her behaviour is so abrupt that I know there’s a chance that my daughter is still bitter with me deep down. And that won’t do. I can take a lot of things, but my daughter’s resentment is not one of them.

“Yeah, we’re okay,” she nods as she takes a bite of her pizza. “You’re still getting me a puppy right?”

“I still need to talk to your mum about it, poppet,” I tell her. “Puppies need a lot of attention. It’s going to be hard work and that puppy is going to be a permanent member of our family. We’ve really got to think about it before we decide.”

I expect a little excitement knowing that her mum and I are really considering getting a puppy. But what I get is quite the opposite. My little girl’s gaze drops, her face slackening. Her voice cracks a little when she mumbles, “except… we’re not a family.”

I wince, realising how serious the effect our split has on my daughter. Despite Emma and I putting on a friendly, united front for our children, Minnie is still sad that her parents are not together. 

“Of course we’re still a family,” I assure her, pulling her to me for a comforting side hug. “I’m still your dad, mummy is still your mum, and you and George are still the lights of our lives.” 

“But you and mummy aren’t together anymore,” she points out bitterly. “And you live so far away from us now. I miss having you at home.”

“I know, my love,” I murmur gently, and turn sideways so she can see my face. “It’s killing me too. But you never know what the future holds, right?”

“I guess,” she says glumly.

I wish I can tell her that I’m trying to win her mum back so we can be together again, but I know I can’t do that. This is far too early. I don’t want to get her hopes up in case I’m not successful in convincing my wife to give me another shot. That’ll only break her heart all over again.

Thinking back, I realised that this is the first time we have a proper chat about our split. I fled to LA the next morning after my wife asked me to leave our marital home back in London, leaving her to sit down with our children to tell them that I was not going to live there anymore. I was shocked and angry because I had no idea what I’d done. I thought we were fine. There were no fights leading up to that. I still remember exactly what I told her. ‘You’re the one who wanted to end it, you tell them.’ And then I left.

Just like that. Without a fight.

I swear to God, it’s something that I would never be able to forgive myself. 

“How’s your mum?” 

“She’s sad,” Minnie sighs. “She cries a lot. She thinks we can’t hear her in the shower, but we can.”

Knowing I caused that physically hurts. I rub at the throb of pain behind my breastbone and I think about all those private tears I shed through it. The ones you hope are hidden and silent.

“Can I ask you something, daddy?”

“Anything, poppet.”

“Do you still get sad too?”

I’m not sure how much to divulge here. Does my daughter need to hear that I stopped eating? That I once cried in the loo at Cafe Habana, and once had to be fished out of a bath by Jeff after I turned into a human prune? I was sad. I still wear that hat. 

“I do. It’s the end of something, that’s always sad.”

“I think mum is dating someone,” she says and my eyes widen. “She told us Luke is her friend, but I think he’s her boyfriend. They’re on a date now, aren’t they?”

I can try and deny it, but I know my daughter is smart and won’t buy anything I tell her.

“What do you know about boyfriends?” I tease, my attempt to lighten up the mood. 

“I’ve just turned nine, I’m not stupid,” Minnie rolls her eyes. “‘Sides I’m thinking about getting one of those boyfriend thingies.”

I sit there slack-jawed, and my daughter roars with laughter.

“Minnie Alexandra, you’re going to drive me to an early grave, you know that?”

“Hey, what are you middle naming me for? I was joking!” She says, still laughing as she picks a piece of pepperoni off her pizza.

“How do you feel about your mum dating again?” I ask her.

She pauses. “I don’t know yet. As long as he’s nice and doesn’t put me under the stairs…”

“I’m sure he won’t. In the attic maybe,” I joke.

She laughs again. I’m thinking about keeping that bloke in the attic so my wife won’t date him anymore. Or even better, six feet under my patio. That’ll do.

“It’s gonna be okay, right, dad?”

Honestly, I’m not sure. But I don’t have the heart to tell her that.

“Yeah, Min. It’s gonna be okay.”

***

I see the headlight shining into the front windows as I walk down the stairs from tucking my daughter into her bed. That must be Emma and her date. I pull back the curtain a little to peek outside, and I’m right as I see that bollockface’s car in front of the house. 

You know that saying; curiosity killed the cat? Well, in my case, curiosity fucked me with a chainsaw. 

I’m a bloody idiot. I should have just closed the curtain back as soon as I recognised the car. I mean… it’s the end of a date. What did I expect to see? A high five? I knew I was so sure when they left that he would not be getting anything more than a friendly kiss, but that date must have gone really well, because right now, my eyes may as well fall out of their sockets as I see that bastard’s tongue down my wife’s throat. 

I’m frozen. I’m gripping the curtain so tight that my knuckles are turning white. I stand there—stunned. Watching. I’m not even sure for how long. It does feel like forever. Like an eternity. 

In hell.

And then Emma pulls back, and everything seems like a blur. I have to remind myself that my daughter is sleeping upstairs so I won’t go apeshit and knock that wanker square on his arse. 

I’m still glued to the floor by the door. I’m too shocked to move. I hear the sound of keys rattling before the door swings open, and she looks surprised when she sees me.

And all hell breaks loose.

“What the fuck, Emma?!” She jolts at hearing me shout. I rarely did it. In fact, I’m not even sure if I’d ever yell at my wife before throughout our marriage. “You told me last night you’d never even kissed him. You told me you weren’t ready.”

“I- I don’t know. He caught me off guard. That was-”

“I told you I wanted to make this work,” I remind her, trying to lower my voice so I won’t wake my daughter up. She doesn’t need to see this. “Us. Our marriage. I told you I wanted to fight for you. But I can’t do that with someone shoving their tongue down my wife’s throat, can I?”

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I see her tear up and I immediately feel regret. That was harsh. But before I can apologise, I can see her lip curls up and I know she’s about to get nasty. It’s a rarity with her when we’ve fought in the past, but I feel it coming.

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” She sneers. “You think that if you put a toy down, it’ll still be sitting there when you want to play with it again.”

“That’s-”

“You have no right to be upset at me. We’ve split up for nearly a year now. What I do and what I don’t do on my dates is none of your business.” 

“I want us to give our marriage another shot,” I say in exasperation. “I want to try to win you back, but fuck’s sake you’re not even giving me the time of day.”

“Oh, look how the tables turned,” she taunts. “Sucks, innit? Being the one struggling to find the time when it seems like the other doesn’t give a crap?”

“Cheap shot, Ems,” I retort.

“Truth hurts, doesn’t it, H?” 

Emma averts her eyes, her lower lip quivering. I can’t tell if she regrets her harsh words or not, but she doesn’t look back my way, and she seems to have said her piece.

I knew sooner or later this was bound to happen. We never had our big fight, not even that night when she decided that enough was enough.

“I cannot possibly go through that again. It physically hurts,” she says softly. “I know I was the one who ended it, but when you just left like that the next morning without so much of a fight as if ten years means nothing to you… that really did hurt. You left me alone to talk to the kids about what happened. And sure, you did call every day. But it took you nearly nine months to finally come and see your children?”

“I needed some time. Some space,” I tell her. “Do you think it’s easy for me being there? Away from my wife and kids?”

“You chose to be there.”

“You know I couldn’t stay in London,” I murmur. “It’s too hard. At least in LA sometimes I can just pretend that everything’s okay. That we’re okay. That my wife and kids will be there waiting for me when I get home. I can’t do that in London.”

“That’s a shit excuse and you know it,” she mutters.

“I still love you, Em,” I say with a sigh. I know trying to defend myself further for what I did will get me nowhere. “We can fix this. We can be a family again.”

“Harry, it’s too late.”

“Is it him?” I can’t help but go there, because that’s a possibility. “Do you love him already?”

“Luke is a fresh start for me, H. I may not love him now but at least it doesn’t hurt looking at him. It took me months to be able to get back up again, to get to where I am right now. To finally find a little bit of peace.”

Emma’s head hangs low, and she rubs at her temple with her fingers. I want nothing more than to pull her into my arms. But by how stiff her spine is, I can tell she wouldn’t come willingly. 

“I’m sorry, Emma,” I whisper, resigned. Tears well up in our eyes. There’s nothing I can say that will change her mind because we’re not seeing eye to eye. She’s still focused on the past, not that I blame her because I did hurt her badly, but I know that there is no way we can go anywhere if she can’t see past the harms I’ve caused in the past.  “I hope one day you’ll be able to forgive me.”

“I’ve forgiven you a long time ago,” she says, her expression softens. Her thumb runs at a part of her finger where a ring used to be. “Now, I just want us to try and make this separation work. Focus on the kids. Let’s do the right thing by them.”

I nod.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah.”

“When did it all start?” I ask, my voice cracks a little. “When did you start feeling like you’re invisible to me?”

“I’m not sure I can point down to one exact moment,” she takes a shaky breath and pauses. “The change was gradual that by the time I realised it, I didn’t even recognise us anymore. I spent days and nights wondering what happened to us. That wasn’t us.”

I wipe that one tear running halfway down her cheek, and as soon as my thumb touches her skin, I lose it. I can’t help it by this point. Tears flow as much as I try to hold them back. She’s crying too. This is painful. 

“And it’d be too easy to say that I felt invisible,” she continues. “Because the truth is, I felt painfully visible. You ignored me on purpose. I wasn’t even sure what I was to you anymore, because the only chance for me to get your attention was by getting you in bed. And that was wrong. It hurts, because it felt like you only needed me to warm your bed.”

I want to deny that statement. I want to yell it’s not true. That I never intended to take her for granted. That she still makes my heart skip a beat like a bloody teenager seeing his first crush. 

But I don’t.

Because she’s right. I’m not sure what happened either, but we’d changed. Maybe it’s our jobs, maybe it’s the endless responsibilities. Domesticity, children, they wore us down. Kisses became perfunctory. Hugs became less frequent. Hell, I couldn’t even remember the last time I took my wife for a date night other than for social obligations.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her again. I’ll spend the rest of my life apologising to her if I have to, she deserves it. “I hurt you badly. I really am sorry, Emma.”

“It wasn’t all you though,” she mumbles. “I never called you out on it.”

“You didn’t,” I reply. “I never worked out why?”

“I swept it under the carpet because it was embarrassing. It felt silly having to ask for your attention. And I don’t know… pride, maybe? And the kids. I didn’t want them to know something was wrong. So I played along and carried on like nothing was happening.”

“When really…”

“It was like a punch to the guts each time. You were an excellent father. You still are, the kids adore you. This may sound insane and it’s embarrassing and painful for me to admit this, but there were times when I saw you with the kids and I couldn’t help but feel jealous. When you couldn’t even be bothered to look at me… it felt like you took a dump over all my love for you.”

“Emma…”

“I wish I could get past that. I wish I could just forget what happened and trust you again.” 

I bring her in for a hug and say nothing. She needs to get this all out. This is part of the process, and I’m here to listen. 

But where do we go from there?

Reconciling a broken marriage is tricky. I am not a violent person but I have never wanted to strangle people as much as I want to strangle those who wrote articles with countless advice regarding this subject, making it seem like it’s easy. Talk it out, get your point across, and you’re out of the dog house. Well, you know what, bollockface? It turns out that listening is not enough. Sod you and your dumb articles. 

All I know is that I can’t rush this. She’s not ready, and that’s okay. Right now, we both have things to work on. She needs to learn to let go of her resentment, and I have to learn not to take anything and anyone for granted ever again. This is killing me, but there is no one to blame but myself. I take solace in knowing the fact that I don’t know what’s going to happen in the future. Maybe one day we’ll be back together. Maybe we won’t. 

“Thank you for telling me all that,” I mumble against her hair. 

“Thank you for listening,” she looks up and gives me a sad smile.

***

Emma comes from a big family. 

There’s Jamie, her eldest brother and the only guy. I think the fact that he grew up surrounded by sisters was what made us the closest in the first place. He hates wine, even though he makes a career out of managing his own vineyard. I know, the irony. The next is Suze, sister number one who lives in Sheffield with her husband and three girls. Suze and her husband are both orthopaedic surgeons. Then my wife, the middle child. Then Meg, sister number two who just had a baby. It’s another girl so my George is still the only grandson in the family. And then Lucy, the youngest of the clan who’s still in university. 

They all live nearby, and I knew that all my in-laws hated me a tiny bit for taking their daughter and sister away. They were a hard outfit to infiltrate. You don’t enter into a relationship with one of them, you get a whole gaggle of them. It was hard to get in, but once you’re in, you’re in for life. 

After we’d split, I called my parents-in-law the next morning just before my flight to LA. I wasn’t sure whether or not Emma had told them about what happened, but I felt like it was the right thing to do. After all, they’d become my parents too for a decade. So I explained and apologised. Of course, I didn’t tell them the details because I knew they were between Emma and me, and they respected us enough not to ask. They were upset, but they also understood that these things happen in life. All they wanted was just for their grandbabies to come out of this unscathed. 

Now here I am, walking behind Emma and our children as we step over the threshold into her parents’ home for their monthly roast. Her parents invited me and I accepted. I don’t want to turn down any extra time I have with my kids as I’ve decided to leave today and head back to London. I was prepared to stay longer, take some time off work and fight for my marriage, but since it all has gone to pot, I figured I should leave. The world doesn’t stop even when you’re struggling with marital woes. I’ve got work to do, and I also know that it is best to give Emma space. 

I hear voices as we walk inside.

“If littl’uns are going in highchairs then what’s that extra space for?” I hear Meg’s husband say.

Meg tells him. “Count again, addition was never your strong point.”

“Oh.”

The house is suddenly quiet when they see me. This is my first time seeing the whole family again after we split, and even though my parents-in-law and I are on good terms, and Jamie too, I know the sisters would be a different story. All four of them are beyond close and they’re now looking at me as if they should’ve chucked me in the oven instead of the chicken.

You don’t do that to our sister. You hurt one, you hurt all of us. 

“Uncle Harry!” Freya shouts in excitement. She is one of Suze’s daughters. She and her twin sister Tessa are only a few months older than my George.

Suze, who is sitting on the sofa, looks a bit sullen, not knowing what the right call is to make. Meg and her husband freeze. 

“Alright there, mate?” Jamie greets me, trying to ease the tension. Suze glares at him.

“Are you here to do magic then, Uncle Harry?” Tessa asks. 

I bend down to her level. “Not sure I know any magic, Tessie.”

“Yeah you do!” Freya pipes up. “Because when we were driving here, daddy said you did a disappearing act on Aunty Ems. Show us what you did!”

“FREYA!” Her dad barks.

Meg can barely contain her giggles.

“But we like magic. You’re rubbish at magic,” she says to her dad. He widens his eyes. 

The sisters are now all smiling smugly, knowing a couple of six-year-olds just shamed me on their behalf. Extra roast potatoes for those two.

Lucy, the littlest sister, suddenly enters. That’s definitely not a happy face. “Oh, it’s you. Is that why everyone went so quiet? What are you doing here?”

“Luce,” Emma mutters.

“Because I invited him,” says a voice emerging from the kitchen. My father-in-law. “Harry, glad you could make it.”

“Of course,” I reply. “Thanks for the invitation.”

Lucy stares daggers at her dad, knowing she can’t unleash her trademark rapier wit as she’s surrounded by her little nieces and nephews. That one may be the youngest but she’s the scariest out of all the sisters, my wife included.

“Look, if it’s weird, I can just leave?” I offer.

“Nonsense, you must stay for supper,” Emma’s mum replies.

“Yeah, Harry, stay,” says Emma’s dad, staring at his daughters. “I want you lot to be nice. Otherwise, I’m putting you on the kids table. You hear me?”

The three of them nod in unison. 

“You two look well,” I say, my attempt to make small talk. 

“You know, dad’s been singing this morning,” Emma’s mum chirps, tilting her head towards her husband. “He joined a male choir. They think they’re Westlife.”

We all can’t help but laugh. This is classic mum. The tension seems to ease away. 

Let’s just hope it stays that way.

***

There’s a strange feeling of déjà vu as I take a seat on the steps in front of the cottage. 

I’m all packed up and ready to go. My weekender bag is in the boot of my car. Nothing left to do but say goodbye to my wife and kids, but I don’t go straight inside. 

Not yet. I need a moment.

These steps witnessed a lot of our marriage even though we’d never stayed here for longer than a couple of weeks at a time. We loved to sit out here in the summer. I remember when I first brought my stuff here shortly after we got married, we sat out here with beers, sleeves rolled up, boxes stacked into Jenga-style columns. 

I also remember sitting here last year on Christmas morning. Emma and I were both in our pyjamas and slippers, sipping coffees out of our matching Christmas mugs. We watched the kids ride their new scooters up and down the street. Everything was perfect. I had no idea that my marriage would end in just two months after that.

“Harry?”

I look over my shoulder and I urge her to sit beside me. She comes over and does just that. There is silence. We don’t say a word to each other. A quiet hum of traffic in the distance, puffs of breath cloud the air making me think we should both be wearing coats. Christmas is nearly here again. My heart aches at the thought of this being our first Christmas since everything fell apart.

“I’m sorry,” she says softly.

“I should be the one apologising, Em.”

“I know you wanted to work things out,” I hear the sadness in her voice. “I really loved you, you know that, right?”

“I do,” I nod. “Our marriage, all those years… it wasn’t all bad, though, right?”

“Of course,” she quickly replies. “We had our moments. We have Minnie and George.”

We pause, letting that sink in. In all this mess, those two were and remain everything, some symbol of our marriage not being a complete disaster. 

“There were also times when you were a good husband,” she adds.

“Why do I feel like you’re going to pat me on the head?”

Emma laughs under her breath.

“Your new bloke seemed a nice sort,” I tell her, because it’s true. I may hate the guy with a burning passion, but that’s only because he’s dating my wife. 

“He is.”

“That got legs?” I ask her.

“Possibly.”

“I want you to be happy, Ems,” I tell her. “With or without me.”

“Harry…”

“But I also want you to know that I’ll be waiting for you. No rush, no timeline. I’ll wait for as long as it takes. Because for me, it’s either you or no one else.”

The front door opens and two little faces pop out from behind it.

“What are you doing out here? It’s freezing!” Shouts Minnie.

“Well then come here and give me cuddles to warm me up,” I tell her.

Emma and I take a kid each. She takes George and lets him entangle his legs in hers, cradling himself into the hook of his mummy’s arm. Minnie uses me like a climbing frame. I bop her on the nose as I’ve done since she was a baby, and I like that it never stops being hilarious to her. The sky starts to dim, trees casting shadows onto the pavement. A house down the road has some festive lights that switch on and flicker on and off in strange syncopated patterns.

“This is nice,” Minnie mumbles. “I miss the awesome foursome.”

“The awesome foursome, huh?” I ask.

“That’s what you used to call us,” I hear the sadness in her voice and my heart aches. I know she feels this all a lot more than her little brother. “I still remember.”

“Do you really have to go again, daddy?” George looks at me with sad puppy dog eyes. 

“Yeah, do you?” Minnie asks. “I love having you here.”

“I do, my loves,” I reply sadly. “Be good for mummy, alright? I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

“I don’t like seeing you go,” George mumbles.

The emotion is a little unbearable and I see a tear trail down my wife’s cheek. George looks petrified seeing his mum cry. 

“Don’t be sad, mummy.”

“I’m not sad,” she shakes her head, quickly wiping the tear off her cheek. “I’m just sorry daddy and I couldn’t make it work.”

“Did we do something wrong?” George asks, looking at his mum and then me.

“Oh, mate,” I reach out to cup his face, Emma pulls him into a hug. “Of course not. You didn’t do anything wrong. You two are perfect, you hear me?”

“Do you still love each other?” Minnie asks.

Emma looks at me in the eye as she answers our daughter. “I’ll always love your dad, because he gave me both of you.”

“And I’ll always love your mum,” I say, my eyes pinned on my wife. “No matter what.”

Emma

“So… tell me, he a good lay? He looks the sort to have some girth.”

I probably should have warned you beforehand about this sister of mine.

Lucy is my entertainer sister who has done every job going alongside studying. She went to dance school, spent six months on a cruise ship, has been an extra and once did a two-month stint in Les Misérables. On weekends she dresses up as Disney characters and does kids’ parties which means she owns a lot of wigs and always has glitter in her bra. She’s the fun one. I keep her close because as much as I love my other siblings, this one has been a good entertainment through my separation. Mum suggested for her to live with me for a couple of weeks when I first moved back to the Peak, and I’m so glad she did. It was around the time I lost a stone and would spend most of the time napping, crying and staring at the wall, surviving on cups of tea and Rich Tea fingers. She couldn’t cook or clean and she used all my shampoo but she brought some light into the house when grey clouds threatened to consume it. She was also a great distraction because I could live vicariously through her tales of going to gigs and clubs and hear how she’s not slept and got her boobs out for reasons of fun and frivolity.

However, when you talk to her, she always goes there. She’s brash and has no conversational limit. She thinks her purpose is to not only feed me but also revive a pretty dead sex life too. Actually, it’s not just her. After my husband and I split, my sisters think it’s their job to pique my interest in men again. Luke happened after a boozy Chinese takeaway about two months ago when I joked that a spring roll was the most phallic thing I’d had in my mouth for over half a year. I remember a dumpling rolled out of Meg’s mouth in shock, so Suze decided to play the matchmaker and introduced me to Luke who worked at the same hospital with her.

Tonight, we’re having another takeaway night since my parents have all the grandchildren for the weekend. Bless them for entertaining that crew of children we seem to have acquired over the past nine years. We have seven between Suze, myself and Meg, and I just hope that my parents are well stocked with wine. They will need it. 

We all sit around my dining room table with the remnants of a KFC bargain bucket, a selection of Thai food, a giant bag of chips and some battered sausages. I’d admit that we were already a little drunk to buy food sanely. Luke is also here, I thought it’d be nice to give my sisters the chance to get to know him. And it doesn’t take Lucy more than thirty seconds after Luke gets up to take a phone call before asking such questions. 

“I don’t know? I haven’t slept with him yet.”

Lucy looks at me in confusion. “But you’ve been on dates and stuff?”

“We did have a cheeky snog last week but we’re taking it slow.”

“What are you waiting for? Just go shag him. Erase the memory of that wanker?” 

“Hey, he’s your niece and nephew’s father,” I chastise her for calling Harry names. “Don’t call him that.”

“Why don’t you want to sleep with Luke?” Meg, my other sister asks me. “Lucy is right though. He’s really tall, I bet he’s VWE.”

“What’s that?” I ask.

“Very well-endowed.”

I chuckle. “Honestly, I wouldn’t know what to do with it.”

Meg giggles and places her head on my shoulder. 

“Last time I had sex was on Valentine’s Day, girls. Do your maths. The next day, my marriage collapsed.”

Both of them huddle into me like penguins. 

“Which is why you just need to get over yourself,” Lucy remarks. “You need to remember what sex is like. It’ll be fun and make you feel good. If you don’t want to do it with Luke, you can have some taster session? I’ve got a uni mate who’d shag you.”

“Lovely. No.”

Lucy huffs. “You’re so boring.”

“Honestly, Em, Luke is fit. Seems like a nice fella, and he genuinely likes you. I’d have a go on him if I weren’t married. You should just do it,” says Meg.

“Yeah, you could shag him tonight,” Lucy adds. “Meg and I can piss off out and then…” 

Then she does a strange rave-style dance as she thinks of her plan coming together. Luke returns from his phone call and Lucy jiggles in her seat. Don’t you bloody dare. 

“Luke, we need more wine,” says Lucy. “There is not enough and we thought you could walk down to the shop and get some?”

Meg and I look at each other for a second, wondering what our sister is up to. 

“Sure, yeah, I could get wine,” Luke replies. “Any other requests?”

If she tells him to get condoms in then I will skewer her with a chopstick.

“Anything you might fancy or need?”

She’s walking an incredibly thin, thin line. 

Luke gets up to retrieve his coat and grazes my hand as he does. This move doesn’t go unnoticed by Meg and she gives me a sly wink. I hand him my keys and he heads for the front door. Meg stares Lucy out.

“Seriously?” She says.

“We need to prepare you if you’re going to sleep with him.”

“Like mentally?” I ask.

“Like have you had a tidy? This will be your first time. You’ll need to at least tidy up the flaps and do a bit of topiary.”

“LUCY!” I gasp and laugh at the same time, holding my hand to my face. Who is this woman? How can you raise five children in the same house and come up with such a random entity?

She stands up and heads for my kitchen drawers, rifling around until she pulls out a pair of scissors.

“Show me your bush,” she orders.

“Lucy! I prepare food with those scissors.”

“And we’ll wash them?”

Meg is in hysterics as she sees this scene unfolding in front of us.

“I’m not getting my bush out in my kitchen.”

“You’re so dull,” Lucy complains. “I’m trying to help here. What are your pits like? Shame there’s no time to tackle your upper lip.”

I put my hand over it instinctively. “I’ve got a moustache?”

“Well, you’re not Tom Selleck but it could do with a bleach.”

“You’re being cruel now, Luce,” Meg giggles. “But I think we do need the comedy of seeing Lucy trimming your bush in the kitchen.”

I stand up reluctantly and unbutton my jeans.

“Ha!” Exclaims Lucy. “You’re wearing nice knickers, you knew this was going to happen. Just peel them back a little and let me have a look.”

“Be quick for fuck’s sake. This is something that no one needs to see.”

“Do you want a shape?”

“What?”

“Yeah, like a heart? It’d be cute.”

“No!”

Meg roars with laughter.

“I’ll just trim the length then,” says Lucy. “Meg, put your hand out.”

“Do I have to?”

“Don’t you love your sister enough to at least hold her pubes?”

I’m not even sure what’s happening here. One sister is very close to my private regions with a sharp object and I hear the creak of metal as she shears away. The other collects the trimmings in a napkin in her palm. This feels like an opportune moment to ring Suze, our other sister, and start a FaceTime chat. That time we all took one for the team so Emma could reclaim her sex life.

“Thanks, Luce.”

“You don’t say this enough I feel.”

“We really don’t,” says Meg.

“Want me to look at yours, Meg?”

“I’m good.”

“What if he’s into weird stuff?” I ask.

“Like?”

“I don’t know… maybe like choking? Stuff like that.”

“Well, no one breaks out all the moves on their first time,” says Meg but Lucy gives us a look like she begs to differ.

“And I’m not on anything. I stopped the pills months ago. What if I get pregnant?”

“That’s what condoms are for?” 

They both give me a look that says I am not fourteen and that I should have an inkling about how reproduction works and the preventative measures that I can put in place to stop myself from getting pregnant. 

“How do I initiate it?”

“Maybe you could dance for him?” says Luce mockingly. “You’ve both had a drink, let it just happen. Planned sex is the worst kind of sex.”

“I planned nothing. You’re the one who’s got the kitchen scissors.”

“I’m done, anyway. Not my finest work but then at least he’ll be able to find it?”

Meg laughs again as she goes to the bin with her napkin of pubes. I do my jeans up and sit at the table, downing what’s left in my glass. What if he can’t get it up? Or worse, what if he doesn’t like my boobs? I have modest boobs. They wouldn’t win any competitions. What if he wants better boobs?

“You’re overthinking,” says Meg.

“I haven’t got any condoms.”

Lucy reaches inside her handbag, pulls out two packets of johnnies and hands them to me. How far ahead has she planned this?

“Any other excuse?” Lucy asks.

“Look, tonight, just get naked with the fella, have some bloody fun. Enjoy yourself.”

I hear the key go in the latch of the front door. That was quick. Crap. Luke enters the kitchen with two bottles of red that I immediately feel guilty about as I’ve got a rack of it in the utility room. He also carries a few packs of crisps and takes the kitchen scissors that were on my table.

“No!” I stop him. “Those need to be washed.”

He looks at me in confusion and I love that he puts them in the sink without any further questions asked. He rips opens the packet of crisps with his hands instead.

“Crisps?”

Lucy grabs a handful of crisps before she grabs her phone, pretending to read some texts. “Bollocks! Meg, we forgot about the party.”

Meg quickly plays along. “Oh yeah, crap. It’s that birthday party, innit?”

I feel awful. I’m sending the sisters back out into the cold so Luke and I can have the house to ourselves. They both keep winking at me which is more down to the fact that they’ve had at least a bottle of wine each for themselves tonight. Luke stands at the kitchen door while I wave everyone off. This feels weird. 

“Have fun, kids!” Chants Lucy as she shepherds Meg away from the house. I shut the door.

And then there were two. I turn around and Luke is no longer at the doorway. I tiptoe into the kitchen to find him stacking plates. 

“Shall we tidy up now?” He asks.

“It can wait.”

My phone on the table lights up with an incoming text. It’s Lucy. Don’t forget to adjust your tits. Make sure they’re facing forwards. Show a bit of bra. 

Does this mean my boobs are not always facing forward? Where are they looking? This isn’t helping at all. I ignore it.

“Alright,” Luke says with a smile that makes me feel relaxed but also on the faint side of nauseated. It’s probably first time nerves. Is it weird that I’m thinking about the cleanliness of my bedroom? Did I pick up yesterday’s bra from the corner of my room? Do I remember how to go down on a man? What if he doesn’t fancy me?

Sometimes I can’t help but wonder whether my marriage ended with Harry because I was terrible in bed. Maybe I wasn’t attractive enough. I’ve had kids, parts of me are stretched and doughy. Maybe I didn’t provide what he needed. 

In the last year of our marriage, I think it’s safe to say that I was mainly the one to initiate things between us and my success rate wasn’t 100%. There’s this nagging thought in my head that maybe even on those nights I succeeded, those were just pity shags.

You know what, sod it. 

I grab him by the collar and kiss him. He stumbles a little but then lets his body fold into mine. I can do this. Crap. He’s lifting me up. He sits me on the counter and I’d like to say the moment overtakes but there’s red wine inches from my arse so I move the glass with my hand whilst still kissing him. We’re kissing. This is weird. It’s different. It’s not my husband’s lips. Why am I thinking about my husband’s lips? 

I shake my head, banishing that image. Harry doesn’t belong in this room with me right now. 

I feel his hands in the small of my back and then he lifts my jumper over my head. I’m in my bra. Don’t overthink it. Oh, the bra is off. My nipples are out in the kitchen. I run my fingers through his hair as he trails kisses down my neck. Is it weird that right now, at this very moment, all I can think about is that his blond, floppy hair looks like a golden retriever?

I gasp and push him away involuntarily when his mouth wraps on my nipple. This is wrong. This feels wrong. I thought it was just first time jitters but now I think this is deeper than that. 

“Are you alright?” He asks, looking concerned.

I grab my jumper and quickly put it back on. “I… I’m sorry, Luke. I can’t. I have to go.”

“Emma, I’m sorry,” his face reads panic. “Did I read the signals wrong? I thought you wanted this. I feel terrible. I’m so sorry.”

“No, please don’t apologise,” I say hastily. “You didn’t. I did want this. Or so I thought. It’s just… I’m not ready. I don’t think I’ll be ready any time soon. Or ever.”

“What do you mean? Are you breaking up with me?”

I have to be straight with him. I take a deep breath. “I want to give you the opportunity to walk away. You’re a good guy, Luke. I just don’t think it’s fair for me to string you along if we can never progress.”

“Is it your ex-husband?”

He’s still my husband. But I don’t say this out loud. 

“He told me that he wanted to give our marriage another shot about two weeks ago when he was here,” I tell him. “I did say no right away. I didn’t think it was a good idea. But…”

“Is it really?” He asks. “You two have a lot of history. Two kids. Why wouldn’t you give him a chance?”

“I’m worried.”

“And what are you worried about?”

“My heart?” I say quietly. “I don’t want to go through that again.”

Luke smiles at me through sympathetic eyes. “Listen to me, Emma. I’m not a cardiologist, but I know that the hearts are the strongest organs in the human body. They can go through anything.”

What happens next feels like a blur. All I know is that by midnight, I’m already halfway down the M1, on my way to London. 

Harry

It was a knock on the door that woke me up.

When I first open my eyes, I’m disoriented. I don’t know what time it is, or how long I’ve been asleep. Then I realise I’m on the sofa, and it’s still dark outside. It’s also raining. I walk towards the door and open it, just in time to catch a figure going down the steps, which doesn’t take me more than a second to recognise. I am in complete shock. Is this real? Is that really my wife, standing in front of my door in the middle of the night? Or are my eyes deceiving me?

“Emma?”

She stops on the pavement and slowly turns to face me. She’s spooked through—her jeans moulded to the curves of her legs, the sleeves of her jumper dripping, her hair flat, lips slightly tinged with blue.

“I don’t know why I’m here,” she says. “Don’t know what I was thinking.”

I open the door wider, and my voice is drowsy and deep when I say, “Come on, let’s talk inside.”

She takes a step back instead.

“I just… I wasn’t thinking. I’m here. I don’t know why,” she sounds genuinely bewildered—even a little panicked.

“Are the kids in the car?” I ask her and she shakes her head. The wind blows, spraying ice-cold drops across my bare skin where my shirt hangs open. “You’re shivering, honey, come inside.” 

She stares at me, so many emotions swirling in her expression. She’s like a skittish kitten who can’t decide if she should let the stranger pat her head or haul up the nearest tree. It breaks my heart.

“I don’t think I can.”

So I go to her. 

The rain is cold and hard, soaking my shirt. Her eyes dart from the pavement, to my chest, up to my eyes and back again, like she’s ready to bolt—but her feet stay glued.

I lean in so she can hear me through the rain. “Do you remember the first time we went to Paris together? When we were young and crazy enough to only rent one electric scooter for both of us, and we rode around the city at night?”

The corners of her mouth tug up a little. “I remember.”

“But then I was going way too fast and we hit a rock, and both of us went flying. I didn’t want to ride anymore the next day, because I was afraid you’d get hurt. Do you remember what you told me?”

“I said…” she begins, her eyes meet mine. “I said we had to keep riding. Because it’s the only thing that made falling worth it.”

I nod tenderly and hold out my hand. “I’m not going to let us fall this time, Emma.”

Her eyes are back on the pavement. “I’m not sure-”

I know she still doesn’t trust me. I know that sadness on her face and how it penetrates so deeply. I know she’s probably better off without me, the bastard who crushed her heart and soul and took her for granted for years. 

We shy away from the things that hurt us. But that’s what scars are for. They protect the wounds. They cover them with thick, numb tissue so we’ll never have to feel that same pain again. The scars that my wife has inside? They’re tough. 

I beg when she continues to stare at my hand, “Please, just come inside.”

Slowly, tentatively, her hand slides into mine. 

And we go in out of the rain.

I take her upstairs to the bedroom that used to be ours. Her teeth chatter as she sits on the edge of the bed. I throw a blanket over her shoulders, rubbing her arms, sliding down to cup her hands. 

“Shit, you’re freezing. How long were you out there?”

“A while. I was walking… thinking.”

“Just some friendly advice. Next time you go a-wandering, stop and buy an umbrella.”

Emma shivers as she laughs. I pull the blanket closer around her and rub her back. 

“So… you gonna tell me what’s this midnight adventure about?” 

Her voice comes out soft and wavering in the dark room. “I was with Luke.”

“Did he do something to you? I’ve watched enough crime documentaries to pull a perfect murder.”

She shakes her head and chuckles. “We were having a takeaway night. Meg and Lucy were there too, but then they left and there were just the two of us and-”

“Please spare me the details,” I beg.

“Nothing happened. I just… I couldn’t get through it. Your face kept popping out in my head and I knew that if I went all the way through, we’d lose our chance. And I didn’t want us to lose our chance. I know this is completely the opposite of what I said to you two weeks ago but it’s true. I wasn’t ready then and maybe I’m still not ready now, but I don’t know about the future and you said you’d wait for me and…”

Her words trail off and my chest clenches with that sublime mix of excitement and trepidation. Of wanting something so much it’s like every cell in your body is stretching, reaching for it, yet there’s a grey shadow of worry that you might never get to touch it.

“Oh, Ems…”

I cup my hands around hers and blow into them. Another shiver vibrates through her. 

For a moment we sit there in silence. Memories of us in this bed come flooding back. Of the kids piling in here bright and early, and us having cuddles and catch ups over the week just gone. Of the two of us and that sacred half an hour we had together before we go to sleep. Where we could have a proper chat without little voices interrupting us every few seconds. Sometimes we’d read together too, and other times when we just couldn’t be arsed, we’d simply spend that half an hour scrolling through memes and having a laugh together.

“You’ve got to get out of these wet clothes,” I say gently, with absolutely no teasing suggestion. We’re right on the precipice. I can feel it. And I have to tread so carefully, because one wrong move could send her away, truly lost to me.

I peel my soaked shirt off and let it drop to the floor. Her eyes move, trailing over my shoulders. I stand and slowly unbutton my jeans, leaving me in black boxer briefs. 

Her eyes follow my every move, looking at me.

I push the blanket off her shoulders and let it drop to the floor. I grasp her jumper at the bottom and lift slowly. I wait for her to push me away but she doesn’t. She raises her arms instead. I pull the jumper over her head and it lands with a plop on the floor. I remind myself not to enjoy the view. I’m trying hard not to look.

My chest rises and falls as rapidly as hers. I sink to my knees in front of her and reach out for the button of her jeans. She lifts her hips and my fingertips graze her skin as I slide them down her thighs, leaving the white lace knickers in place. 

“Get under the sheets,” I whisper and she does just that.

She scoots to her side of the bed, and I slide beside her. Without a word, she snuggles into my side. The cool feel of her flesh is a shock at first, but in just a few moments, my heat chases away her chill. Except for her feet. I practically jump when she runs one up my calf.

“Yer a bloody ice cube!”

She laughs kind of evilly. 

We face each other, almost nose to nose. Her hair still drips at the ends and a drop trickles over her collarbone, down her chest, and I’ve got to take a deep breath—because I want to lick it off her so badly.

“Talk to me,” she says softly.

“I’m taking time off work.”

“But you never take time off work?” 

“I’ve got a lot to make up to the kids,” I tell her. “So I told Jeff to bugger off for at least until after New Year.”

I see her smile in the dim light.

“I’m gonna stay up with my mum,” I add. “I’ll only be an hour away from you lot.”

This is something that I’ve been mulling about. If I really do want a chance with Emma, I need to move up there because absence does not make the heart grow fonder. That may be true in secondary school when you went away for the summer. But in marriage, especially in a broken marriage, absence separates people. It creates distance. That’s the opposite of what you’re trying to achieve. You want the closeness back.

My wife’s palm runs over my bicep—tentatively at first—then with a surer touch. “They’d love that.”

“Also, you remember my old mate Stu?” She nods. “We got in touch just earlier today. He’s got a litter of puppies and he offered one for us. I told him I need to talk to you first. So what do you think?”

“A puppy, huh?”

“A puppy.” 

“I think that’s a good idea,” she says. “But I’ve never had a dog though.”

“I can train it first at my mum’s?” I offer. “I’ll get it all settled. Then when it starts sleeping through the night, I’ll bring it over.”

“Does it make me a terrible mum for wishing we had that kind of service when the kids were newborns?” 

“We had that service. It’s called sending them to the grandparents.”

We both laugh, and when the laughter dies down, we’re silent for a few minutes. The thrum of my heartbeat jacks up as her hand continues to stroke my arm. 

“Harry?” Her voice is the barest whisper, like she’s checking to see if I’m asleep. 

“Hmm?”

“I… I’ve missed you. So much.”

And I’m done.

The need to kiss her, to touch her, has been pulling at me like a raging current ever since I saw her on the front step, and with those few words, I let the current take me. 

***

Numerous studies have shown that having sex extends the human life span. At this rate, Emma and I are going to live forever. We probably slept twenty minutes max throughout the night and I’ve lost count of the number of times we’ve done it. I’m pretty sure the last time we did something like that was ten years ago on our honeymoon. 

We’re sitting at the breakfast nook. Her hair mussy and she’s wearing one of my T-shirts. She looks freshly fucked, which I know to be true, and I reckon she’d be ready to crawl back into bed with me if I just crook my finger. But I don’t do that. Because this, us, sitting here in the morning sunlight, playing footsies under the table while we talk over coffee is all I’ve been dreaming about every morning.

“What are you thinking about?” She asks when she catches me looking.

“You,” I smile. “You look perfect.”

“No, no more,” she shakes her head frantically. “I won’t be able to walk.”

“You dirty lass, I was trying to be romantic and all that,” I can’t help but snort in laughter. “And you always do that… rebuff any type of compliment I try to give you.”

It’s true. If I tell her she looks beautiful, she waves a dismissive hand at me. If I compliment her mind, she blushes. Even an appreciative look from me has her turning shy like a schoolgirl.

When she doesn’t respond to me, I continue to poke at her. “Why is that? Why does it embarrass you when I tell you that you’re smokin’ hot?”

She wrinkles her nose at me. “Because it’s weird. I feel like you just have to say that.” 

She pretends to go through one of her old magazines from when she still lived here. I reach across the table and bat at it, causing one side to pull out of her hands and reveal her entire face to me. Now she’s glaring. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”

And I grin when I see red stain her cheeks.

“And you’ve got the most gorgeous body. I take one look at you naked and I can’t help but get rock hard.”

“Stop it,” she blusters, now blushing all the way down her neck.

I change tactics, but I know this will embarrass her just as much. “You are the most amazing woman. Kindest, genuine and grounded. Funniest too. And you’re the best mother for our babies.”

“Okay,” she snaps at me as she closes the magazine and slams it down onto the table. “You’ve made your point.”

Chuckling, I stretch back in my chair and nudge her foot with mine under the table. “You’re adorable.”

She rolls her eyes, which I find to be beyond adorable. 

Standing up from my chair, I walk around the table and hold my hand out to her. She willingly takes it and stands when I give her a tug. It’s a natural move for her, to walk straight into my embrace and press herself against me. I tilt my head and kiss her on her jaw. “It’s something you need to get used to… compliments from me. It’s never going to stop.”

She moans softly in my ear.

“Want to know what else you’re going to have to get used to?” I whisper as I kiss my way down her neck.

Her fingers come up, tangle in my hair, and fist tightly. “What’s that?”

“My face between your legs.”

***

Some people might not put Quaglino’s into the romantic restaurant bracket, but they’d be wrong, very wrong. In actual fact, it’s quite hard to top. The interior has this 1930’s romance charm with candlelit tables, dark-panelled walls and an adjoining room for dancing to the soft tunes of the piano man singing bluesy versions of classic songs. 

Tonight, I managed to convince Emma to go out to dinner with me before she goes back to our babies. I insist on driving her since I don’t want her to drive alone at night again, which she initially refused but finally agreed.

We finish our dinner and split a slice of cheesecake for dessert. Probably not my brightest idea since I keep having to readjust myself because seeing her slowly swallow a mouthful of white, creamy concoction is a pure kind of torture. But I try to kick those dirty thoughts out of my mind and focus. 

Since last night, we’ve successfully managed to avoid the talk. It feels like we’re in a bubble where everything is perfect and we’re just scared to burst it, but I know this can’t go on. Emma and I need to have a proper chat if we want this to work.

“Penny for your thoughts.”

“You and I need to talk, don’t you think?” I begin. 

“You’re right,” she nods. “So…”

“What is this?” I gesture between us. “Are you ready to give us another shot?”

“I think so,” she nods. “But I want us to take it slow.”

“You set the pace,” I assure her. “I want this to work more than I want anything else in my life. So I’ll do whatever you want me to.”

“We’ll see this as a new dalliance,” she adds.

I know this is supposed to be serious so I try hard not to break into laughter. “Okay. I will court you but I won’t ask you to move to an estate in the country. Not right away at least.”

“I’m serious.”

“You sound like Austen.”

She rolls her eyes. “And we can’t tell anyone either.”

“I agree,” I tell her. “And from now on, we talk to each other, alright? I’ll try to make you happy the best way I know how. But if it’s not enough for you, then you need to tell me.”

She nods, but then her graze drops before she asks. “You really do want this right?”

“I told you I want this to work more than anything else in my life.”

“It’s just… when you first told me you wanted to fight for our marriage, I was overwhelmed because it was all so sudden. You told me everything I wanted to hear. Even at that moment, everything in me screamed for us to just fall back into it all the way. But there was also a part of me that thought you were just lonely, and maybe you thought that us getting back together was the answer to it.”

“Not true-”

Emma holds up her hand. “Maybe not true, but it’s my fear. That’s why I kissed Luke that night, because I was desperate. I wanted to push things with him because I knew I’d never love him the way I love you. I knew that if things went to pot, I wouldn’t be half as devastated. But with you? I don’t think I can survive that type of heartbreak again, H. You don’t know how much it killed me to end our marriage. I can’t afford to fall back into something that’s not going to last.”

“Emma,” I reach across the table to take her hand. “I can’t even imagine how hard it was for you. I know for sure it was not a decision you made lightly, nor on a whim. I wish I had fought you on it then… had fought for you then. There was a time when I thought our marriage was over, and I was going to let you go. But I’m not going to do that now. If it takes you weeks, months, hell, Emma… if it takes you years to fully trust my devotion to you, I’m in this for however long it takes.”

Emma nods, biting into her lower lip. I can see her eyes starting to water because every bit of this is overwhelming. She turns her head towards the music floating in from the other room. It’s a Van Morrison cover, Crazy Love.

“Wanna dance?”

The request takes me by surprise since this isn’t like her. But I toss my napkin on the table and move to stand next to her, holding out my hand. The simple delight on her face when her hand slides into mine is everything.

We step out onto the edge of the dance floor. I wrap my arm around her lower back, holding her tight and flush against me. One of her hands rests on my shoulder, playing with the hair at the nape of my neck. The other is clasped in mine just over my heart. We sway, eyes pinned at each other for a few moments.

“Thought you hate dancing?” I smirk.

“Still hate it,” she answers. “I’m just using it as an excuse to be closer to you.”

She sighs, practically sinks into my arms. Emma’s head fits against my chest like she was made to be there. My chin rests against her hair.

“Emma?”

She lifts her head from my chest. “Yeah?”

“You don’t need an excuse.”

She give me love, love, love, love, crazy love… 

***

“What the-”

“Oi!” I yell, quickly pulling the duvet over my wife and I. “Heard of knocking?”

“Heard of a bedroom lock?” Lucy challenges.

Last night, we drove up the M1 straight from the restaurant. We took breaks in deserted services with shiny floors and bad lighting where we had coffees and wandered around WHSmith bulk buying sweets even though it’s really not that far. But you can never have too many travel sweets, can you?

And now, here we are, back at the cottage. The kids are still at their grandparents until this afternoon so Emma and I are enjoying the benefit of having the house all to ourselves by having a morning shag. That is until one of her sisters walks in on us. I’m very aware that I’m still inside Emma.

I pull out, roll over to lay down next to my wife, and we both stare at Lucy who is dressed from head to toe like Princess Jasmine from Aladdin.

“Party?” Emma asks her sister. We both try not to giggle as she sashays in to look at herself in the mirror then perches on the bed in her harem pants. Today, she’s gone heavy on the winged eyeliner and shows off a flat midriff. I quite like the pointy silver shoes though.

“No, Tesco,” she says dryly. “Obviously a party.”

“What are you doing here?” I ask her. 

Lucy glares at me. “What are you doing here? Besides rearranging my sister’s guts, of course.”

I don’t even flinch. I’ve been married to Emma for ten years, I’m used to this sister of hers.

“I’m trying to win your sister back,” I say earnestly. I know that Emma and I talked about keeping this a secret, but she literally walked on us shagging. There’s no point in denying it. It’s best that she knows my true intention rather than thinking we’re divorced with benefits.

“Eh, about time,” she replies nonchalantly.

“Luce, please keep this to yourself for now,” Emma begs her. “This is still new.”

“I will,” she nods. “Just a friendly reminder, though, Styles. If you hurt my sister again, I won’t even think twice before starting a business selling voodoo dolls of you. Bet I could make a fortune of that.”

In their girl gang, Lucy is the wildcard, the likeliest to carry a shank. I don’t even laugh because she could be serious. 

“Duly noted.”

“What are you doing here this early?” Emma asks her sister.

“I wanted to ask if I can borrow that giant tiger in George’s room?”

“Feel free to borrow the rug in the front room as well,” I cackle.

“Ooh yeah,” Emma chirps. “Are you going to find a whole new world?”

“Have you got your Aladdin?”

She pulls a face at our mocking. “My mate who’s supposed to be Aladdin is sick so I asked Jamie to fill in and he agreed because he owed me a big favour. But this lot changed their mind and wanted a genie so now I have to go to Jamie’s and convince him to let me do a full blue body paint on him.”

Emma and I roar with laughter. “Please, please, please, take some piccies.” 

***

A month later…

I can only imagine the joy on my children’s faces when they open the door. I’ll be standing there with the pup in hand, but I know I’m practically vibrating with excitement myself. I glance over at the little dog crate that we’d prepared to transport him in. It’s a sweet, nine-week-old Bernese mountain dog. He’s pretty chill, curled into a round ball, but he’s not sleeping. His eyes are open and alert, as if he’s just waiting to find out what’s around the next corner.

The back of my Range Rover is loaded with two boxes of food, dog toys, bowls, a leash, and appropriate treats. Since I’m still crashing at my mum’s, that will go to her place for when the kids and this puppy come to stay. Emma has an identical list at her home, already purchased and hiding until we hand the puppy off to the kids.

I’ve got a feeling that today is going to be a good day. All morning, Emma and I texted back and forth. Some of it was practical, like making sure we agreed on all the dog rules we’d lay down with the kids tonight. Some of it was lighthearted teasing. Some of it was dirty.

I can’t remember the last time I texted my wife throughout the day just for the hell of it. I had fun with it, and I know without a doubt she had fun with it too. Which made me realise what a twat I’d been for never doing something as simple as letting her know she was on my mind in just such a way. 

Pulling into the drive, I cut my headlights so the kids wouldn’t see me approach. I shut the engine off, quietly get out of my side, and press the door closed quietly. On the other side, I open the passenger door, then spring the latch on the dog crate, and this tiny little puppy totters straight at me with tail wagging.

I lift him in my arms. I shut the door and then move over to the patch of grass. I put the puppy down so he will go potty before I bring him in. When I was a kid, we had a dog called Max, but I sort of grew up with him so I didn’t remember when he was a puppy. And Emma never had a dog before, so we’re sort of winging it with this puppy training thing. But I don’t fret about it. I mean, we’ve had babies, they’re harder than this, surely? 

I patiently wait for this little fella to do his business, which includes a few minutes where he attacks my shoelaces and tugs. Shite, he’s cute. 

Eventually, he sniffs around, tail high and then abruptly squats to pee. I thought boy dogs lift their legs when they pee but maybe not at this age. I immediately bend and give him praise with an upbeat, positive tone that makes him excited. Who’s daddy’s clever little fella? You are! Yes, you are! You did well, mate. That was brilliant! He puts his paws up on my shin, accepting my stretches with tail wagging and tongue lolling out the side of his head. My kids are going to fall in love with this little guy. 

I scoop him up in my arms when he’s done and make my way inside. But instead of entering from the front door, I circle the house so I can enter from the back, knowing they must be all in the kitchen as this is usually the time when the kids would do their homework for next week. Walking past the window, I see that I’m right. Emma is at the kitchen island with George next to her and Minnie on the opposite side. My heart starts beating faster at the thought of spending the day with my family—and apparently our new third child in my arms—and I find it almost shameful I have such excitement over it. Shouldn’t I have always been this excited? Or is it normal for things to just settle, and we take them for granted?

I shake that thought off of my mind. I had this important talk with my wife a couple of weeks ago about how we shouldn’t focus on the past. We’re both committed to repairing our marriage, and for it to work, we both know we must commit to living in the present. Because at the end of the day, the present is all we have.

I knock on the door and as planned, Emma will tell the kids to answer it.

In moments, it’s swinging open. I get a flash of Emma walking up behind our kids, but my eyes are pinned on them. They’re both in complete shock, eyes wide open staring at the puppy squirming in my arms.

Both stare at me mutely, frozen, as if they can’t believe that this is real.

Finally, I say, “surprise!”

Minnie’s gaze rises up to meet mine. “Is that ours?”

“This is ours,” I nod, laughing. But still, neither of them move forwards, so I goad them. “Come and get him?”

That’s all it takes for Minnie to scoop this little fella into her arms, pressing her nose into his head and murmuring little endearments. George scratches him and he reacts to their greetings by wiggling frantically and trying to lick both of my kids’ faces. They both laugh in a delighted way I’ve never quite heard before.

I look at my wife and see her tender smile as she watches our littles. I can tell she’s as charmed by it as I am. 

I walk inside because it’s colder than a witch’s tit outside and shut the door. “He just peed outside, but we need to keep a close eye on him. If he starts sniffing around or circling, that probably means he needs a wee. Scoop him up and take him out to the back. After he’s done with his thing, give him lots of praise and affirmation.”

“Got it,” Minnie says as she plops down on the living room floor with the pup. The puppy jumps around, and all three of them start to play.

“Now, what should we name him?” Emma asks.

“Droolius Caesar?” I joke.

Emma laughs. “Jimmy Chew?”

“Sarah Jessica Barker?” I continue. “Wait, no, it’s a boy. Franz Fur-dinand?”

“Sir Barks-a-Lot?”

“Deputy Dawg?”

“Bark Twain?”

We both laugh. We’re shite at this. The kids are too busy with the puppy to comment on our suggestions.

SpongeBob SquarePants is on the telly playing in the background. None of them are watching, but I see SpongeBob scratching his snail pet under the chin before he picks up said pet and says, “I love you Gary. Gary, Gary, Gary, Gary…”

“Gary,” I say. The kids look at me and I point at the telly.

“That’s a ridiculous name for a dog,” Emma cackles. “But I like it.”

“That’s a human name?” Minnie’s brows knit slightly.

“I like it!” George exclaims, then proceeds to baby talk the pup who’s chewing on the end of Minnie’s braid. “I love you Gary. Gary, Gary, Gary, Gary…”

We laugh.

“H,” Emma calls, and my gaze moves to her. She jerks her chin to the kitchen. “Help me set up the table? I’ve got a cold beer for you.”

Minnie and George still completely ignore us as we move into the kitchen. 

It would be natural for me to sit at the kitchen island while Emma gets the beer and checks on the supper, but the kids can see me from where they sit in the living room. So I follow my wife behind the island instead.

Before she can make it two steps, I move right into the back of her. Hands at her hips, I push her all the way forward until the counter catches her hips, then I dip to put my lips to her neck. 

Emma’s head falls back and she utters the tiniest of sighs, one arm looping back to go around the side of my head so she can thread her fingers in my hair. It’s an intimate embrace, but not one to provoke lust. Just a message that I missed her even though I saw her two days ago, and I love touching her in this gentle, loving way.

“The kids,” she murmurs. “They might see us.”

“Oh, the tragedy,” I whisper dryly. “Our children seeing  their parents hugging.”

Emma snickers and pulls away, glancing over her shoulder. “It would be shocking to them. And until we know for sure what we are and where we’re going, we need to keep them in the dark, remember? I don’t want them to get their hopes up.”

“You’re right,” I mumble in a low voice before moving to the island. I glance back at the living room and see the puppy on George’s back, trying to climb up. “No touching around the kids.”

She smiles and hands me a beer. She’s got one in her hand, and we tap bottles. She then moves to the oven, where she bends to take a peek through the window. Obviously, I stare at her arse as she does.

“It’s done,” she announces, opening the oven to pull the pan of shepherd’s pie.

“Need help with that?’ I ask, noting it looks like it probably weighs fifty pounds.

Twisting, she grins. “Sure. I made a double batch to send you home with some leftovers.”

That gets me. Not only she made one of my favourite meals, but she’s also sending me home with leftovers. I pop off the stool, round the island and take the two potholders she’s holding out to me.

After I carefully lift the pan from the oven, she shuts the oven door. I set it down on the two trivets she’s placed on the counter.

Bending over, I inhale the scent deeply. “Smells fantastic.”

Emma bumps her hip against me. “Well… you’ve been pretty amazing these last few weeks, so…”

I bump her hip back before sliding my hand around her waist. Bending my head, I murmur. “Admit it… it’s for the orgasms I gave you after the school run the other day.”

She chuckles with a sly smile. “Possibly.”

Leaning in closer, I touch my temple on the top of her head, lowering to a complete whisper. “You do know that I can give you that any day you want, right, Em? All you’ve got to do is ask.”

“Oh, I will,” she teases.

“What’s going on here?” Minnie says from behind us.

Emma and I jump apart as if we’d been electrocuted by each other. We spin to see Minnie standing there, with George next to her holding Gary in his arms. These two must have worn that pup out as he is still, watching us curiously.

Minnie’s expression, on the other hand, is condemning and suspicious.

“Nothing’s going on, poppet,” Emma says, her voice a little squeaky in panic. It’s adorable.

“Your mum and I were just talking,” I calmly explain.

“With your arm around her waist and whispering,” Minnie challenges. “Looks more like flirting to me.”

“Are you upset about it?” I challenge back. I knew she was upset when we separated and she struggled with it for a long time. 

Her brows knit together. “I’m just confused.”

Emma’s expression indicates she has no clue what to say. I can’t say I’m any more well equipped, but I’m going to take this one. I give my wife a subtle chin tilt, silently telling her I’ll handle this and relief evident in her eyes.

“Come on, you lot. Help me sort Gary’s stuff,” I say, herding them towards the garage. 

All three of them follow me into the garage, Gary still cosy in George’s arms. 

I immediately spot the stack of supplies, which includes a dog crate similar to mine, as well as bowls, a soft dog bed, food and toys. I pick up the soft bed towards the door that leads back into the house. Minnie turns to precede me, but I stop her. “Hang on there a second, poppet.”

When she pivots to face me her expression is guarded. “You asked about your mum and me. What do you want to know?”

“Were you two flirting with each other just now?” She demands. Crap. She’s nine. She’s not supposed to know that stuff. 

I can’t believe I get a little warm in the face at such a question, but I nod. I know it’s probably too soon to tell them but there’s no point in denying this. Both of my children are smart, and they deserve to know what’s going on. 

Her eyes narrow. “So are you… what… getting back together?”

“Does it mean you’re gonna live with us again, daddy?” George chirps.

“Not yet, nuggets. It’s not that simple.”

“It kind of is,” she replies. “You left for months. You didn’t even come during the summer. Then once she started dating Luke-”

“What’s dating?” George turns to his sister.

“It’s when you like someone and they like you back and you become boyfriend and girlfriend then you go out to eat together and do other stuff,” Minnie explains, then she continues. “Then once she started dating Luke, you’re suddenly coming around more often. And then she told me that Luke wouldn’t come over anymore and now you two are making googly eyes at each other.”

We lapse into silence for a moment. I need to think carefully about what to say next. George beats me. “I think I’m dating someone.”

“You what?” My eyes widen.

“Yeah. I asked Poppy in the playground to be my girlfriend the other day and she said yes. Then after we were done playing on the slides we got hungry so she shared her raisins with me. I also let her take a sip of my Ribena.”

I try hard not to break into laughter but Minnie doesn’t even crack a smile. 

“Okay… so here’s the thing. I was very upset. I know that was wrong of me to just leave without saying goodbye, and it was wrong of me for not visiting sooner. I needed time to let it go, and to accept what your mum wanted. But not once during that time did I not want to come back home. I’ve always wanted my family back.”

“Then what changed?” Minnie asks.

“Your mum and I spent some time apart because we both thought that was the best decision. But we were wrong. Because we realised that we didn’t want to be without each other. So now I’m trying to prove that I’ve changed. That I’m a better man, and I’m ready to be a better husband. The one your mum deserves.”

“See,” Minnie murmurs, her expression filled with confusion. George dips his head and rubs his cheek against Gary’s head, who seems to be on the verge of falling asleep. “I don’t get it. You and mum always seemed to get along great. You never argued. I never understood why you left.”

I move in close to my daughter and brush a lock of hair behind her ear. “A lot of that stuff is private between your mum and I, poppet.”

George asks. “But why can’t you just move in now, daddy?”

“It takes time, mate. Your mum and I need more time to sort ourselves out. But I promise you two that we’re trying our hardest here, okay? We need you both to be patient. Can you do that for us?”

They both nod in unison. Gary blinks twice.

“I can’t wait for us to be family again,” says Minnie.

Grinning, I bend to kiss her head. “Me too, poppet…”

***

Emma

“Gary! This way, Gary!”

Harry and I look at each other across this rather windy hilltop. The kids and Gary are exploring the neighbouring bushes and pathways as we perch ourselves on a rock nearby. We take in the view, the breeze biting at my cheeks.

My husband turns to me. “Tea? I put some whisky in it.”

“Hell, why not.”

Harry pours the tea out and we clink mugs. He brushes his thumb across my nose for no absolute reason. I was born and raised here, but this is something I’ll never tire of: these swooping hills and valleys, infinite skies and bracing breezes. As much as I loved London, I’m glad we’ve traded that life with this simpler one. There is no taxi nor Tube in sight but our kids are somehow a little bouncier and carefree. They’re happy here, and that’s all that matters. 

 “Ey up,” greets Harry at a group of people walking past us. They are obviously tourists as they have no way to respond and one of them is wearing bog standard Reebok Classics.

We hear the kids squeal in the distance and we both smile at each other. Getting that pup was probably one of our best decisions.  

“Do you remember when we first dated?” Asks my husband. “You brought me up here.”

I nod. “I do.”

“The view was decent,” he grins. 

“I know you’re not thinking about the view.”

“I was thinking about what happened when we got to the top of the meadow…”

“That was some decent shag,” I chuckle. “Nowadays, I’d worry about getting ticks on my unmentionables.”

We laugh.

I stare over at my husband taking in the view and sipping tea noisily. He always pauses for a moment on any walk to drink it all in. He rustles in his bag and gets a packet of biscuit out, opening the packaging awkwardly and offering it to me. 

“Did you know that you’re supposed to call it ‘niece’ and not ‘nice’? Apparently, they’re named after the French town.”

“That’s proper pub quiz trivia knowledge right there, Styles,” I tease.

We stay up here for a little while, but since it’ll get dark soon, we start our walk back to the car. The one thing you forget about taking kids up mountains (small hills) is that for all that experience of green space and fresh air, eventually, you will have to bring them down. Despite having an entire packet of biscuit (with a whole lot of why did you bring this one? This is rubbish. You could’ve brought hobnobs), we failed to remember to pack enough snacks and a fine drizzle is now scratching at our faces. It takes George much persuading to keep walking and by the time we return to the car, the sun is dipping behind the clouds and the twilight sits in the air. 

Harry decided it was fine to park in a deserted car park in the middle of nowhere to escape the throngs of regular walkers and tourists but strangely enough, when we get back there, we are one of six parked up.

“Come on, mate. Literally, just to the car. Like twenty more steps,” Harry begs our son to keep on walking. 

“You lied!” He complains. “You said that twenty steps ago.”

“I’ve got Haribo in the car.”

He progresses to a light canter. 

“Where did all these cars come from?” Harry asks as he approaches our motor cautiously.

“Maybe you’re not the only smart one here and people are following your lead.”

A car flashes us. 

I look around at all the cars. People are sat in them. What are they waiting for? You see this sometimes when waiting for the rain to pass or when people decide to eat their lunch in the car. 

Suddenly, I hear a car door open and a gentleman approaches us. His footsteps are low.

I know him. It’s Patrick. He’s our postman, so, yes, we have our very own Postman Pat. It was the first thing that tickled Harry when he found out years ago. And even better, the joke is not lost on Pat. His wife even got him a stuffed black and white cat for his cherry-red van window. I smile at recognising him, as do all of the occupants in our car.

“Emma, Harry, kids. Fancy seeing you here, of all places.”

“We’ve got a new dog and we were just taking him for a walk,” I inform him.

“Oh, lovely. What’s his name?”

“Gary,” the kids say in unison.

“Have you got a dog, Pat?” George asks him.

“No, my wife’s a cat lady. But funny you should mention dogs. This place here, people like to come here for that reason.”

“Gary seemed to like it,” pipes in Harry. “I think it’ll be his favourite.”

“That it is. People come here all the time for walking and with their dogs and other such endeavours.” His face looks slightly ashen at this point, his eyes darting towards the other cars. “And the other sense of the word… I just thought I would mention it as you have the littl’uns and it’s getting darker. I think someone just flashed his lights to warn you.”

Harry and I realise what he means exactly at the same time. “OH!” we say at the same gobsmacked volume. 

“Dogg…ing…” Harry mumbles. “We should-”

“Leave, like definitely leave, like now,” I say finishing his sentence.

The kids appear confused. I look around and shield my eyes. I should shield the children’s eyes. Pat’s wife waves from the passenger seat.

“Give our regards to June,” I say.

“Will do.”

He salutes us and returns to his car. The kids have all the questions. “People come here to look at dogs?” George asks. “Where are the dogs?”

“Get. In. The. Car.” Harry mouths very deliberately.

I slink into the passenger seat. Our eyes dart in different directions trying to divert focus from any of the cars ahead. We’ll be good if Harry doesn’t drive us off a cliff face. He turns on the wipers, the engine roars to a start and he pulls away slowly.

“We could have stayed and seen the dogs,” says George, a little despondently. “Gary would’ve loved to see his mates. Wouldn’t you, Gary?”

I throw a packet of Haribo at him. Harry and I are silent. We’ve just strolled our children and our very young dog into an outdoor sex hotspot. We are terrible parents. 

“Who fancies chips?” Harry says as he changes gear. He finds our littles in the rear-view mirror and studies their faces. “There’s a decent chippy down road.”

There’s a chorus of approval from the back seat. My husband smiles. He then moves his hand over from the gearstick to find mine, fingers interlocked, the sky glowing a thousand different colours.

***

“Are you calling my turkey dry?”

I look over at my older sister Suze in the corner of our family kitchen wondering where on earth she had the courage to come out with a comment like that. Even her husband stops washing up to absorb what his wife just said to our mother. I mean, you think it, but you just douse it in gravy and make do. Such is the joy of white chalky meat like turkey. Why do this now? Now she’ll harp on about the bacon she puts on the breasts and all the goose fat. But it’s Suze. She likes the challenge. I secretly think the only way she believes she can have a relationship with our mother is to spar with her regularly so they at least have one line of communication.

“It was a lovely dinner, Mum. Did you make the mince pies?” Suze winks at me.

I shake my head at her and bring the plate of mince pies through to the living room. Amidst my mother’s wreaths and tinsel wrapped around the lampshades, it’s a familiar tableau: Pop, my grandfather, asleep in the armchair in the corner, a holy green paper hat covering his eyes. Small children crawl on the floor and make angel shapes with their bodies amidst remnants of old glittery wrapping paper.  I hope Mum’s made a trifle. My other sister Meg and her husband snooze on a neighbouring sofa, catching on much needed sleep since they just had a baby four months ago and I still remember four months sleep regression is hell. I like this part of Christmas where bits of old crackers litter the floor and twilight takes over.

I take a mince pie and escape to the last vacant spot on the sofa. George rests his head on my knees. “What are you eating, mummy?” I look down at his bright green eyes and wonder how he can still be hungry as he must be ninety per cent roast potato at this point.

“A mince pie.”

“With cow mince?”

“No, like fruity bits,” I pick out said fruity bits and drop them into his mouth like a baby bird. He pulls a face, tasting it, and then walks away.

Harry smiles at me from the bottom of the Christmas tree. He’s laying down on the floor with one of my nieces. He’s always been great with kids, long even before we have our own. My niece has her palm out, and Harry runs circles in it as he sings, “round and round the garden, like a teddy bear…”

She smiles and laughs, poising her fingers, ready to bounce. 

“One step, two-step, tickle me under there,” he pretends to collapse into giggles and my niece’s little face broadens into laughter before she rolls over and walks away to play with her cousins.

Finishing my last bite of the tiny pie, I roll under the tree to join my husband. He looks at me as I cosy up next to him, the lights reflect off his eyes.

My mother likes a real tree for Christmas. It’s the smell, you can’t beat the smell. I like to think you can get that real pine smell from a good supermarket brand toilet cleaner but I don’t say that out loud for fear of incurring her festive wrath. And so there’s always a real tree and like we endured when my siblings and I were teens, there’s still a daily rota of vacuuming up the needles as we watch that bastard go crusty and brown as it’s shoved up against the radiator. 

We lay there in silence, looking up at the branches and my mother’s multicoloured lights twinkling in some erratic fashion that my eyes can’t quite handle. I’ve been to raves that were less of an assault on the senses. It’s an overwhelming memory of our childhood, lying in silence wigging out on mum’s trippy disco lights, absorbing the magic of the season. 

“You’re drunk aren’t you, tipsy-tits?”

“You were the one who poured double shots of Baileys in our coffees this morning,” I cackle.

“That’s called Christmas milk.” 

“What are you doing here?” Minnie asks, her head nestling into my shoulder. I rake pine needles from her head.

“Nothing…” Harry replies. “Where’s yer brother?”

“Here,” George suddenly appears, rolling under the tree next to his dad to join us.

“Looks like the awesome foursome is back, huh?” Harry grins.

Minnie and George hum in agreement. I can see my babies smiling. 

It’s time.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?” 

I take a deep breath. “Will you come back home with us?”

-

tag list: @gohometoacactus @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @kikisparadise18 @2am-2pm @rogersdirty-louse @harrys-cherriesss @icycoldbeanieweanies @niallbestie3 @peakascum @coucoukayy @awesomebooklover17 @sunflowerryvol6 @stylessugarhigh​ @umadirectioner​ ​

[opalesense]

more than friends

kaeya & gn!reader

2k words • ~15 min. read

summary: feeling down in the dumps on a lonely valentine’s day evening, you are met with a pleasant surprise from your close friend, kaeya.

warnings: just pure lovesick fluff!!  shy kaeya my beloved... <3

notes: i defrosted this draft from valentine’s day aahhh hope you like it!! ;^; p.s. shoutout if you can spot his canon voice lines in this hehehe

SITTING WITH MY BACK ON THE FOUNTAIN WALL and watching the rotating blades of the windmills in Mondstadt was not how I expected to spend my evening on Valentine's Day.

   To be honest, Valentine's Day was never that big of a deal to me.  For the past few years, I always considered Valentine's Day to be a day where vendors could get a boost of profit by exploiting the gift-giving aspect of the holiday and selling their wares to cheesy couples who wouldn't know any better.  Why was there a dedicated day to be sweet to your significant other?  Couldn't special gifts be given at any other time of the year?

  Despite my indifference to Valentine's Day, I couldn't help but feel a little lonely this year.  My back purposely faced the couples of Mondstadt who would walk by now and then on their way to their dates and instead I had windmills to accompany me along with a book to pass the time.  I figured my evening stroll outside wouldn't make me feel so disappointed in myself, but I was proven sorely wrong.  I couldn't even look at other people today without feeling sorry for myself.

   "[Y/N]?" a familiar voice drew closer behind me, interrupting my lament and startling me.  "What are you doing here all alone?"

   I turned my head to see my close friend and neighbor Kaeya approaching me, carrying a small leather pack along with his sheathed sword on his waist.  I realized he probably finished his shift at the Knights of Favonius headquarters and was just about to head home.  The sight of him eased some of my worries knowing that despite my usual solitude, at least I would talk to one person today.  "Just reading a book," I held up the cover of my book for him to see.  He gave a small nod to the title as I put it back down into my lap.  "How did you even spot me here?"

   "I can see you from my office," he pointed at a window on the wall of the headquarters, "You chose quite an odd spot for reading, dear friend. You must be uncomfortable on the ground like that.”

   I nervously laughed, not wanting to admit that I sat behind this fountain to avoid looking at how much fun everyone else was having.  My gaze turned to the sky, a vibrant orange that now began fading into a shadow of dark blue sprinkled with stars.  Dusk was approaching. “I suppose it is getting a little late for reading, now that I think about it.  I think I might head home now."

   "Allow me to accompany you on your walk home.  I’m headed that way, after all," he quickly offered as I began to prop myself up to my feet.  He held out his hand to help me on my way up, the sudden physical contact sending a shiver down my spine.  As clearly touch deprived as I was, my hand quickly pulled away once I was standing and dusted off my clothes, which were wrinkled from sitting for so long today.

   "You are too kind, Kaeya," I grinned, earning a grin back from him.  Maybe this is my loneliness speaking for me, but I swear that smile might have made my heart skip a beat.  Although I may have had a crush on Kaeya for the past few months, there was no way I’d ever let those thoughts resurface now.  I've done a good job of repressing the feelings for so long, whether I was around him or not.  At least, I thought I did.

   As we walked, it suddenly dawned on me that the feelings never truly went away.  They were persistent for months, despite being suppressed.  He was my closest friend for quite some time now.  So maybe it was a sign that it was meant to be...

   Chills ran down my spine at this realization.  And once the truth had settled in, the feelings I thought I had managed to stow away suddenly flooded my mind in a storm of emotion.  The more we talked during the walk home, the more eager my heart was to open up and let the thought of him fill the cavernous, lonely void inside.  My eyes nervously turned to our feet, which stepped together in perfect sync.  My attention darted to the hand at his side, which I ached to touch once more.  The more I tried to fight this longing, to forget about it and keep it isolated, the more it fought back in an effort to stay alive.

   "[Y/N]?" his sultry voice snapped me out of my delusion.  Do NOT let your emotions take control of you, I scolded myself.

   "Sorry," I shuffled my feet towards his figure, which had stopped a few meters away.  The world seemed to stop when I was lost in thought, and with each step I took towards him, the world slowly resumed from where I mentally left it.

   "Is something wrong?" he asked, now concerned.  "You know you can talk to me."

   "No, no.  I'm fine," I gripped my book, fighting the urge to break in front of him.  "I'm just a little lost in my thoughts."

   "Well then, what's on your mind?"

   "Kaeya, you won't make fun of me if I’m being honest with you right?" I started to speak without thinking.  No, no, no!  What are you about to say?!

   "What makes you think I would?  C’mon, [Y/N].  We joke around a lot but you know I'm good with secrets."

   What are you doing?!  Don’t fall under pressure like this!

   "Well...  I’ve felt quite lonely today.  A little part in me hurts to see so many people enjoying Valentine's Day, knowing fully well that I live alone and spend most of my days alone...   I guess what I’m trying to say is that it was very kind of you to go out of your way to talk to me today, Kaeya.  It means a lot more to me than you know."

   The silence that followed that regurgitation of thoughts was lethal.  Kaeya didn't even stop.  We just kept walking.  I ignored the instant regret that pounded the walls in my head.

   "So you didn't have any plans today?" he asked, as if he had just ignored everything I told him.

   "Not at all.  I was taking a stroll to find a good reading spot for today but seeing so many couples together...  I guess it was like pouring salt into the wound.  That's why I was sitting turned away from everything, if that answers your question from earlier."

   Now you've just told him too much.  If he didn't already think you were sad and lonely before, he definitely thinks so now.

   "You shouldn't isolate yourself like that, [Y/N].  We could've– forget it, actually," he chuckled and rested his hand on the back of his neck as we finally approached our residential complex.

   "Hey, spit it out!" I nudged him with my elbow, "I poured out my thoughts for you, don't get all shy now.  It's your turn."

   We stopped at my front door, exchanging small chuckles.  The space between us was killing me. If only I could get enveloped by his warm embrace now... No!

   "How about I tell you later?  Meet me here in around ten minutes."

   "What?!" I scoffed, "Now you’re just toying with me."

   "Ten minutes," he gave me one last grin and a short wave before jogging away towards his own house.  I shook my head as I turned the key to my door, feeling the slamming of my heart against my ribs and the sloppy mix of awe, nervousness, and regret boiling in my stomach.  His smile was frozen inside my mind like a photograph capturing a memory. It hurt to like him this much.

   A knock on my door ten minutes later pulled me away from tending to my plants on my balcony.  I set the watering can down and rushed to the door, straightening out my clothes once more before opening it.  Contrary to my expectations, Kaeya stood in the doorway with a shy grin, his hands obviously hiding something behind his back.

   "I thought you were joking when you said ten minutes," I scoffed and crossed my arms, looking up at him to meet a pair of soft eyes.

   "Still don't have plans for tonight?" his eyebrows raised with the question.

   "No.  What, are you about to take me out on a date or something?" I said in jest.  He chuckled and uncrossed his arms behind his back with slight hesitation before revealing a dainty bouquet of calla lilies tied with a silver ribbon.  My jaw dropped slightly in shock with the sight of the charming white petals.

   "I am, actually," his voice was gentler and sweeter than usual.  "These are for you."

   He motioned for me to take the bouquet, which I gladly accepted.  The subtle fragrance reminded me of his own scent, which made me smile.  I secretly wished my entire house would smell like this unforgettable aroma – this unforgettable man.

   "[Y/N]," his words were laced with hesitation, "I have been waiting weeks to tell you this but...  you are constantly on my mind.  Whenever I see you my heart jumps and..."

   He chuckled with nervousness.  That grin never fails to make my chest light up.

   "...and I know you're not going to believe me because you say I smooth talk everyone, but I promise you, [Y/N].  I know you see that I’m nervous right now – that doesn't happen to me with anyone else.  This feeling hasn't gone away for months.”  Instant regret suddenly painted his face, which I quickly took notice of.  I stepped closer to him and lifted my hand to gently cup his warm, blushing cheek.  It was my way of telling him to keep talking without interrupting him.

   "[Y/N]..." he blushed more at the touch and sighed, "you are so special to me and... I’ll get straight to the point. I want to be more than friends. I really mean it.”

   He stuffed his hands in his pockets and waited eagerly for my response.  I was no longer thinking properly.  My heart had taken over my mind, and for once, it was for my benefit.

   "Kaeya," my voice cracked with a million emotions at once, "you have no clue how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that.  I am so in love with you it makes me sick," I admitted lightheartedly.

   He laughed with relief, taking another step closer to me and shrinking the space between us.  He lifted his hand to grab mine and intertwined our fingers together.  The mood shifted from nerve wrecking intensity to reassurance and gentleness the instant our palms met.  He caressed my hand with his gloved thumb for reassurance, chasing all my troubles away.  "I promise I will never let you feel alone ever again."

   We stood there staring into each other's eyes for a few moments, exchanging so many mutual emotions in mere seconds.  A blush began to creep up my face as well when he gave my hand a squeeze accompanied with a proud smile.

   "Well, now that we're both blushing messes in love with each other, how about we finally go out tonight?"  Our friendly dynamic finally returned to clear the thickness in the air once he broke the silence.  "I have to admit, I was feeling a little lonely myself and was just going to drink at the tavern with some of the other Knights tonight.”

   "Not anymore, I hope?"

   "Definitely not.  I’d rather spend the evening holding your hand and taking a stroll through the city so everyone knows I’m finally yours."

   This man sure knows how to say the right thing.  I glanced at the bouquet in my arms, partly to hide my reddened face but also to ask, "Could I put these in a vase first?  They're beautiful, by the way. I really love calla lilies.”

   "Oh yes, of course. But they’re not as beautiful as you, cutie," Kaeya said with no reluctance.

 There's the flirty Kaeya that I know.

 I let out a shy laugh as he let go of my hand, the loss of touch making me pout.  As I turned to put the flowers away, he leaned on the doorframe and let out a deep breath.

    "Well, I'll be here.  Don't make me wait too long, now."

[btsqualityy]

Sorry I have to make another one🥺!! I love your characters so much

Brielle struggles to make friends in high school because of her shyness so she always sits alone and eats her lunch alone. She always brings books and comic books to read because the thought of approaching someone is so scary to her.

After the Christmas holidays she finds out she has a new classmate. He introduces himself as Haru Lee (later on she'll find out he's half Japanese/half Korean). He stammers a little as he speaks and all the class laughs at him which breaks her heart a little.

All the seats are taken but not the one next to her. She blushes hard as he tries his best to put a sentence together but he always stammers when he's nervous. That's why she writes on a little note and hands it to him

《You don't have to talk, we can speak through notes, I don't like talking too much either ♡ I'm Inhye btw, but call me Brielle, or Bri, if you want》

He answers with another note:

《Nice to meet you Bri. And thank you for not laughing before.》 She looks up from his note and he's giving her a gentle smile. She blushes again and hides her face in her hair.

After class they go to a manga cafè together because they both read the same comics and he didn't know the place. "My daddy always brings me here and lets me buy whatever I want" Brielle tells him with a smile. Haru learns that she's the third of three children and she has two big brothers. Her mom is a architect and her father.. well, she doesn't know exactly what his job is, something with networking and stuff. Her grandpa was a famous idol many years ago and now he lives with her grandma ten minutes away from their house.

Haru tells her a bit about him, that he's an only child of mixed parents (his father is Korean while his mom is Japanese) and they own a little Japanese/Korean restaurant close to their school. They just opened and they don't have many clients but -he swears- his mom makes the best sushi in Seoul and she has to try it.

Brielle convinces her parents with an excuse to go together and try sushi there. She does it because she really wants to help him and his parents seem really humble and hard working people. Carson and Min-seo are clueless about their friendship but they love the place and it becomes routine for them to go there every week.

Brielle loves this little secret she's sharing with Haru. She can see him inside the kitchen busy with the orders but he never forgets to give her a smile or just says hi waving at her. She can't say it back -she's sitting between her parents- but her eyes tell. Haru has never seen such gorgeous eyes before and hopes to invite her alone, one day, to a date. For now, he just enjoys her company and her weekly visits at the restaurant, hoping their friendship becomes something more eventually.

Omg I love this 🥺not Haru falling in love with Brielle’s eyes, I can’t 😭

[clouditae]

First Love | 19

Yoongi x reader | 18+ | college au | tattoo artist au | angst | fluff | swearing

Word: 3.9k

Beta reader: jinned

happy birthday to yoongi

You first saw him in the multi-purpose room. Later learn his name, and on your third year, as he becomes your neighbor, you discover his lifestyle. Knowing your crush on him was nothing but that, you wanted to find the courage to look for love. Asking your friend for help, you’re pointed in the direction of the expert. Your neighbor, Min Yoongi

Chapter Index

You lie in bed staring up at the ceiling as the tips of your fingers brush along your lips. You can’t stop the smile growing as you remember the kiss. How he brought his lips to yours, taking you by surprise for a moment before your eyes flutter to a close and feel his lips move along yours. It fits perfectly with yours; soft, warm and sending butterflies in your stomach. You felt the fireworks and the rapid beating of your heart—it’s completely different from Hanbin. You toss to your side, burying your face in your hands as you feel the blush creep along your cheeks. You love him. You told him confidently that day and you have no regrets. 

So what does that mean for the two of you? Are you a couple? You thought the same thing with Hanbin, but it wasn’t until he asked you to be his girlfriend that you learned you two were just dating for a few weeks. Ari even told you that everyone starts dating to test the waters before they decide if they want to be official or not. So, you’re not a couple with Yoongi. Unless he has a different view on what official means and that kiss makes you a couple? But it also might not be that. Maybe it’ll only be a kiss and that’s it. You’ll never know what it’s like to date him and you’ll be alone the rest of your school year and find some old dude to be your lover because you’ve only loved Yoongi since then. 

“Oh my God I’m scaring myself,” you mutter to yourself, sitting up. You have to talk to him. You have to ask him if what happened that day means something more to him like it does for you. Climbing out of bed, you slip on your shoes and step up to your door, hand outstretched towards the handle. But you can't bring yourself to grasp it. Your hand idles, thoughts fighting against each other before you’re back in bed. “I’m not going. I’ll wait it out.” You’re under your cover, hiding from reality. 

So much for thinking you’re a new person with so much confidence.

“You’re such a wimp.”

“I am not!” you defend, but you know she’s right. Ari is one hundred percent right today, but you don’t want to admit it out loud. 

“Yes you are. Now grow a pair of bigger boobs and go ask him!” She shoves you towards the door, but her push is barely strong enough to nudge you. 

It’s been almost a week since you had your kiss with Yoongi, and your last talk with him, too. He’s been unreachable—always at school or too busy to even give Hoseok the time of day. You’re thinking it’s because he has an important assignment coming up, but then you’re also thinking he’s having second thoughts about the kiss. He never said anything to you that day after the kiss. He told you he needed to focus on his work and you left. Nothing was said. Nothing is ever said when it comes to him. 

Why do you like him again?

“I’ll do it later,” you whine, stomping your feet like a child as you climb into bed instead. 

You can see her staring daggers at you as she stands in the middle of the room with her arms crossed over her chest. You can see she’s thinking of something, but you don’t know what. Finally, she says, “You have a week to talk to him. If you don’t, I’ll go over there and ask him myself.” You can’t help but open your mouth in shock. Did she really just— “Got it?” she says, rather than asks. Groaning, you toss your blanket off you and slide off your bed, grabbing your backpack on your desk chair and slip on your shoes. “Where are you going?” she asks as you turn the handle to open the door. 

“To study on campus,” you half yell, opening the door, heading out of the room.

You're about halfway down the hall when you hear your dorm room close and open again with Ari yelling, "You better not forget what I said!"

No words are said from you as you push the side door open and head down the flight of stairs. You almost trip from the frustration Ari gave you, but you catch yourself and take careful strides down the rest of the steps. No one is really outside today—no one is heading towards the bus stop to take the fifteen minute drive towards campus. Maybe you'll have time to calm down in the shuttle and prepare yourself for a test that's weeks away.

You just needed to get out of the room and away from Ari's unnecessary glares. Reaching the sidewalk, the shuttle has just pulled to a stop. It seems like you'll have to wait fifteen or thirty minutes before the vehicle will take you to the campus. As the doors open, a few people exit the large, white bus—one of them being Yoongi who notices you immediately. You can feel your heartbeat quicken, the butterflies fluttering in your stomach in an instant. You don't understand how he can cause such chaos within you, but he does it every time you see him. You can imagine the kiss so clearly. His soft lips brushing along yours, thumbs running across your skin leaving a hot trail behind.

He's looking at you expectantly as the rest of the passengers leave along with the driver towards the buildings. It's not as obvious for you as it is for him, but you realize your mouth is open as if you're going to say something. Your body betrays you rather quickly before your brain can even comprehend what you're doing. Yet, he continues to wait there for a few more seconds before he turns his attention ahead of him and he starts towards his room.

"Um," you begin, seeing him stop in your peripheral, "I was wondering..." Wow you're struggling. Where did all that confidence you had when he kissed you go? Where did the ‘don't think just do’ motto go? Swallowing the lump in your throat, you turn to face him. "What are we exactly." Okay. You said it. Now the ball is in his court.

He's staring at you with a look you can never read, eyes blankly staring and mouth set tightly. Is what you thought about earlier really true? Was it just testing out the waters? Does he not like you? Why are you always right?

"What do you want us to be?" he asks.

You blink once. Twice. Just trying to comprehend what he just said and double checking with yourself to make sure what you heard is right. "What?" you ask, not wanting to answer just in case you did hear wrong.

He takes several steps towards you until he's a few inches away, his cedar wood cologne invading your senses as he repeats himself, his warm, minty breath fanning your face, "What do you want us to be?"

Okay he’s close. He’s super close. You can see the flecks of light brown swimming in his darker brown colored eyes. Taking in a deep breath, you answer, “I want to be more than what we are.” You said it. You did it—oh God you said it. What’s he going to say?

“Friends?” is his response to your statement. 

Is he testing you? Is that what he thinks you mean? You shake your head nevertheless. “More than friends,” you mumble, feeling smaller than you did when you first opened your mouth. 

He watches you. Searching for something you don’t know of. You can’t help but squirm, eyes shooting down to his black shirt as he looks at you for a moment. Finally, he answers, “Okay.” Your gaze is back to his again, shock clearly visible on your face. “If that’s what you want,” he adds.

“Is that what you want?” you ask him. 

He hums in response before he slowly leans in. Your breath catches in your throat as you see him get closer and closer before you close your eyes and wait. You’re going to kiss him again. You’re going to feel his warm, soft lips against your own— “The bus is coming,” he mumbles, and your eyes shoot open, head quickly turning to look behind you. The bus has its left blinker on as it slowly gets onto the road. You’re quickly running past him, never saying your ‘goodbyes’ as you run as fast as you can to the stop before the bus drives past it. To your luck, you make it before the bus does. As quickly as possible, you dig through your backpack for your bus pass as the bus driver notices you and pulls over and comes to a stop in front of you. 

The doors open and you smile gratefully as you step onto the vehicle. “Hello,” you tell him, taking in a deep breath after running the short distance suddenly. He greets you as you press your card to the scanner, hearing the satisfied beep, and make your way down the aisle and take the window seat just in front of the second door at the center of the bus. You’re putting your card back into your backpack when you hear the scanner go off, indicating that another person barely made it. The bus jerks forward as you zip your backpack up and someone sits next to you.

You look at the figure in surprise and realize it’s Yoongi. He settles into his seat, eyes forward as the bus skips the second stop, turning right onto the first cross. "Let's go on a date," he says, finally turning his attention on you. He looks so calm when he says it while it's most likely clear that you're in complete shock. "What do you have to do today?" he asks.

"I...um"—you swallow the lump in your throat—"I'm going to fill in my study guide for my test in a few weeks," you answer, hiding your hands under your backpack to clutch the straps tightly. Your heart is racing so hard right now.

"Let's go on a date after."

"I don't know how long it'll take for me to finish..."

"I'll wait," he replies as he looks ahead, seemingly not wanting to hear any more excuses.

For the rest of the ride you're lost in your thoughts on the entire scenario that played out within the last ten minutes. You try to hide the smile playing on your face, so you look out the window. The ride towards school is a quick one, only one stop was made before it comes to a stop at the final destination on campus and you follow Yoongi off the bus, walking out the door behind you.

You let out a shaky breath, trying to calm your excitement as you cross the small road and head towards the library entrance. The two of you are walking side by side down the pathway until you finally reach the building entrance. The outdoor seating is empty as Yoongi opens the glass door for you to enter first. You shyly thank him and enter inside. Pressing your hand to your chest, you feel the beating of your heart as if Yoongi being a gentleman is foreign to you. He’s done it before, but now it’s real in a sense. It’s not practice for you like it was before—it’s genuine. Yoongi is back at your side, and reaching the elevator lobby, you enter the stairwell and head down the stairs to the lower level study area.

Yoongi follows in tow, walking quietly as the two of you enter the rather empty room and you take the table under the skylight where the sun shines through the clouds and trees. Taking a seat, you try your best to hide the blush creeping when Yoongi sits next to you. And so, you try your best to focus on your study guide while Yoongi messes with his phone.

It's been a few hours when you finally finish answering all the questions. You put the guide away in your notebook, close it as well as your textbook and finally turn to Yoongi. He has one hand outstretched before him while the other is tucked under his head as he sleeps. You're lost in awe as you admire his beauty. He looks so peaceful; lips slightly parted, the tips of his jet black hair lie along his eyelids, and you can faintly see his back rise and fall with each breath he takes.

Your heart swells and you can't help but raise a hand and let your fingers brush the strands of his hair away from his eyes. His hair is softer than you thought it would be. Your hand lingers in his hair, brushing the strands away further back from his face before his eyes slowly open. Your hand is immediately back at your side, the color to your cheeks turning pink as you try and pretend you’re just packing up rather than staring at him for a few minutes. 

From your peripheral you can see Yoongi slowly sit up, stretching his arms before rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Are you done?” he asks, voice croaky and gravelly. 

“Y-yeah.” You stutter, packing everything into your backpack. You’re clearly not looking calm with a few papers falling from the stack as you’re trying to put it in your binder, or your zipper getting stuck when you try to open your backpack, or even your hair continuously falling into your face no matter how many times you push it back, but either he doesn’t notice or he’s pretending not to. “Uh.” You clear your throat. “Did you still want to…” 

“You hungry?” he asks, saving you the struggle of trying to finish your sentence. You hum in response, letting out a quiet breath. It’s hard to play off like you’re not internally panicking. He rises to his feet, and you do the same, holding your bag in one hand. “Let’s go eat,” he voices, pushing his chair in and waits for you to follow before the two of you head upstairs. 

As you step out into the crisp, Saturday afternoon air, the once blue sky is gone and replaced with gray clouds. You slip your arms through the straps of your backpack as you put it on, attention turning to Yoongi as he tells you, “Let’s have sushi.” You agree, already imagining the taste of the rolls you’re going to consume as the two of you head in the direction of the food court. Yoongi walks alongside you, the two of you walking in a comfortable silence. It’s something you’re not used to in all honesty. He usually walks ahead when the two of you go somewhere together, and the rest of the time you’re trying your best to keep up. Now, however, he’s keeping at your pace and it makes your chest flutter and a smile trying desperately to appear on your face. You’ve never felt so happy and nervous at the same time.  

Reaching the food court, you see a few people sitting scattered at the tables working on their assignments or chatting with their friends. You follow Yoongi towards the Japanese stand where the line is empty. When you reach the register, the man smiles and asks, “What would you like to order?” Yoongi says his order then looks towards you. After a few blinks of confusion, you realize he wants you to add your order in as well. Telling the man your order, he totals up and takes Yoongi’s card who had it out already before you could even dig in your backpack for yours. 

You find a table at the corner of the building, isolated from everyone else. You take a seat against the wall while he takes the chair across from you. “You’re nervous,” he comments after a few seconds of silence. You open your mouth to answer, yet nothing is said. You close your mouth and look away in embarrassment. You finally have him, but you can’t help but feel like you don’t. That this could all be a dream. “Are you having second thoughts?”

You shake your head, suddenly all the words spilling, “I want to be with you. I just never expected for it to happen and I’m just…a mess.”

He watches you for a second before saying, “Okay.” His name is called and he leaves to retrieve your food. 

While the two of you eat, no words were really said. You can’t think of anything to say, and Yoongi seems to be distracted with his food. It takes about halfway being done with your plate that he finally strikes up a conversation. Sadly it’s about your summer, so you had to do a lot of dodging when it came to Hanbin. Would he get jealous? Angry? Will he ask what happened between the two of you? You’re not sure, but you’re not going to find out right now. 

During his summer, Yoongi tells you he spent most of his time working at his shop, mastering his producing skills, and hanging out with Hoseok when they’re both free. “A simple summer,” he explains, placing a roll in his mouth. 

When the two of you finish, you feel satisfied and happier to have spent a calming date with Yoongi. You remember the last time he took you out on one—well a practice one, but the two of you argued and the whole date was ruined. This one’s real, and so much better than any date you’ve been on. Throwing your box in the trash, you head out the building only to be met with heavy rain. You stand under the awning with the rain pouring and the campus empty as far as the eye can see. Yoongi sighs, “Guess we’re running.” Turning to look at him, he does the same before his hand grabs yours and pulls you out from under the awning, the two of you running. 

You cut through the Psychology building, getting a bit of protection from the rain before you’re running along the road towards the bus stop. You try your best to shield your eyes from the rain, but nothing you do helps, so you rely on Yoongi to lead the way. Your legs are burning by the time you reach the bus stop, the two of you hiding under the bus shelter with heavy breaths. Looking around you notice that no one is around. You’re guessing everyone left before the rain hit while you were oblivious to the possibility of it coming. You should have brought an umbrella or—

Yoongi cups your cheeks softly, bringing your attention to him. Looking at him you take in his features. The tips of his hair stick to his forehead, drops of water fall from it, his mouth slightly parted as his pants become lesser. No matter how he looks, he will always take your breath away. 

“I want to know that when I wake up tomorrow, I can see you and hold you without thinking this is a dream. I want to be more than friends, too.” 

You’d think you would have so much to say from his confession, but nothing comes to mind. So, you repeat what he said hours ago when you told him what you wanted, “Okay.” You’re surprised, and it may be evident on your face as you watch his eyes dart from side to side as if he’s searching for something you don’t know. You try your best to let him know that you want this, that you want to be with him more than anything, and you can only hope it gets through to him. It seems like it does as his eyes stop searching and he’s looking at you with a calm, confident look as he leans in, eyes closing and his lips gently press to yours. 

Your eyes come to a close as you kiss him back, feeling that unfamiliar, yet wonderful sensation you felt when he kissed you the first time—the fireworks, the dozens of butterflies swarming your stomach, and your heart racing faster than when Hanbin kissed you for the first time. Warmth over takes the cold as your lips brush along with familiarity, as if the two of you kissed a thousand times before. You want to enjoy the kiss for as long as you can, but he pulls back lightly, his warm breath blanketing your lips. Opening your eyes, you can see his soft gaze staring at you for a brief second before he kisses you one more time as the sound of a vehicle comes to a stop in front of you. 

You feel like you’re on cloud nine, like nothing in this world could break you down right now. The feeling of his kiss lingers on your lips, and you want nothing more than to lean forward and kiss him again. You just want to be lost in his lips. 

As the two of you separate from one another, the shuttle doors open and the two of you quickly get in. Taking a seat at the back, you sit next to the window and Yoongi beside you, taking your hand in his as he settles further into his seat and closes his eyes. 

You’ve never enjoyed a bus ride as much as you do right now, feeling his thumb brush along your skin as the driver comes and goes at the next two stops, no one else enters the shuttle. The rain continues to pour from outside, creating small puddles on certain parts of the street with cars zooming over them and creating a splash. Music is playing over the speaker, a faint soothing song against the overpowering rain and cars zooming by.

A while later the shuttle comes to a stop in front of the entrance to your dorm building, Yoongi’s eyes open and he gets up from his seat, your hand still in his as he leads you out of the vehicle. You thank the driver before the two of you are running across the parking lot and up the flight of stairs to the second floor door. You hide from the rain as Yoongi fishes out from his pocket his ID and presses it to the scanner. A beep is heard and he opens the door, letting you enter first. 

Walking down the hallway, you stop at your door, turning to Yoongi. He tucks your hair back behind your ear as he instructs, “Go get warm before you catch a cold.” You nod. “I’ll see you later.” 

As he turns to enter his room you grab his hand. He turns back around. “We’re a couple,” you say, your statement not sounding like a question like you wanted. He nods in response. “You’re my boyfriend,” you mutter, nervous for his answer. 

He chuckles, a smile you’ve never seen before appearing on his face. You forget how to breathe as you stare in awe at his simple yet bright smile. “I am.” He steps forward and places a kiss on your forehead. “Go inside,” he tells you, and you let his hand go and do as instructed. Pressing your ID to the scanner, he whispers, “Goodnight.” and you enter your room, the biggest smile on your face with cheeks as flushed as they can be. 

Ari drops everything she’s doing and listens to you as you tell her about the greatest date of your life. 

[ezrasarm]

Roommates Part 3: KO

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Word count: 2k

Warnings: drunk reader, Santiago is a bad influence, drink responsibly kids! That’s all I think?

A/N: I know it’s been a long wait but the next part is finally here! Thank you for your patience and I hope you enjoy it!

<– previous chapter | Roommates | next chapter –>

Frankie had been gone for a while. He had excused himself to go to the bathroom almost twenty minutes ago and Benny was bound to go on soon. You didn’t want him to miss the fight and get in trouble is what you’d excused the nag in your gut urging you to seek him out as when you were about to go looking for him. You knew he would get an earful if he missed even a second because you were the one in the hot seat last time when you missed a whole fight after being called into work last minute. 

Pope seemed to find you first, shoving a drink in your hand as you peered over his shoulder, expecting Frankie to be close in tow. “You don’t have to sound quite so disappointed you got me instead.” Santiago teased you when you not so subtly asked where he was.

“You know that’s not what I meant.” You assured him with a roll of your eyes, giving him a nudge to the shoulder and a thank you for the drink. But if you were being honest, you’d been with Pope all day and had hardly seen Frankie all week. You were beginning to wonder if something was wrong. “He’s right over there. Ran into an old high school classmate and they’re catching up by the bar.” Santiago said with a directed nod of his head and you followed his line of sight over to where you could see the familiar silhouette, corduroy jacket and baseball cap and all, stooped a little with his arms folded over his chest and talking to some woman you’d never seen before. 

You weren’t sure what the feeling that twisted in your stomach was or why it decided to rear its head right now but you found yourself feeling slightly defensive when you turned back to Santiago with eyebrows raised. For some reason, you hadn’t been expecting a she and you couldn’t tell why that threw you off so much. Frankie could talk to whoever he pleased, it was none of your business but you still found yourself downing just about half your drink in one go to try and drown whatever feeling it was that had begun growing in your belly.

“That was fast.” Santiago remarked, giving you a skeptical look as he glanced between you and the almost empty cup in your hand, “You alright?” He asked.

“Yeah, fine! It’s just been a while since I let loose. Thought I might let myself have some fun tonight.” You shrugged.

He glanced back up in Frankie’s direction and eyed you for a second, taking a moment to consider it, “Can’t argue with that,” he nodded before downing his own drink as though it were a challenge. 

You had lost track of how many beers you and Santiago had snuck behind Will’s back who was too busy to play baby sitter tonight as he usually did. Drinking with him had certainly done its job to distract you. You had almost forgotten all about the fact that your best friend had decided to spend the evening talking to some stranger instead of you. God what had gotten into you? You were not the jealous type and you didn’t like how it felt-

Thud.

You didn’t have time to consider that thought any further before you had run straight into the man of the hour himself on your way back from the bar.

“Shit, sorry- Oh hey!” You exclaimed, having miraculously avoiding throwing your drinks all over both of you with those dumb plastic cups they gave you here.

“Woah, you alright there?” Frankie asks, throwing an arm out to stabilize you. “I swear, I left you alone for ten min- okay an hour and a half and- how many of those have you had?” He asks, noticing the slight wobble to your balance and slur to your speech as you introduced yourself and shook the hand of the woman he had been talking to.

“Uhhh good question,” you ponder for a moment before shrugging “Santi and I found out that if you’re a girl alone at an MMA fight you can get a lot of free drinks so we’ve made it our mission to find out exactly how many.” You explain, shooting a wink and a slight salute over to Pope who was still standing, waiting by your seats.

“And have you gotten an answer yet?” Frankie asks, slightly amused but also positive that he would be making sure this was your last drink of the night when you stumbled slightly over nothing and he had to wrap an arm around you for support.

“It appears there is no limit.” You say proudly, missing the fond look in his eye when he shakes his head with a soft and slightly disbelieving smile.

“Cheryl, this is my uh, roommate.” Frankie says gesturing towards you.

“What, are you embarrassed of me or something’? I’d say we’re a little bit more than that.” You interject. You had meant friends but from the look on her face she appeared to have taken it another way and for some reason or another you felt no need to correct her.

“Oh well uh, it’s nice to meet you.” She says politely although clearly thrown slightly by your quite obvious inebriation. 

“Nice to meet you too, Carol!” You declare happily and you mean it, it’s interesting to see the kinds of people Frankie went to high school with but you really weren’t in much state to be particularly conversational at the moment.

“From Red Feather Lakes, Colorado, standing six foot three, weighing in at a hundred and ninety five pounds, I bring you… Ben Miller!” The announcer blares over the booming speakers, pulling you from your conversation. You and Frankie are quick to give Benny your support, you perhaps a little more enthusiastically in your less inhibited state as he and Will walked into the arena and the crowd roared to life.

“Well we should get back. I’ll never hear the end of it if I miss any of this and I’ve gotta make sure these two don’t get into any more trouble,” Frankie explains, “But it was nice catching up with you.” He says and Carol- Cheryl? One of those- nods.

“Yeah, I hope to see you around again sometime.” She says. She’s hardly turned to walk away before you’re wiggling your eyebrows suggestively at Frankie on your way over to Pope and Will.

“You realize she was hitting on you, right?” You asked when Frankie turned back to you, a teasing smile on your lips despite the rising feeling of inadequacy you felt from having stood within a two-meter radius of the gorgeous woman. 

“What? No! She was just-” Frankie cuts himself off after considering it for a moment. “...huh.” He says, eyebrows rising in slight surprise when he looks over his shoulder at the woman who he had already lost in the throngs of people. “I’m sure she was just being polite.”

“You’re too hard on yourself! She was checking you out!” You exclaim defensively, more for his own self esteem than anything else.

“...Me?” He gives you a skeptical look. 

“Yeah, why not you? You’ve got this sort of je ne ce quoi about you. The ladies dig it.” You say with a goofy grin and Frankie can’t help but burst out laughing. 

“That so? What about you?” He asks. For a millisecond your heart stops in your chest. Could he read your mind? Did he know about the thoughts that had just slipped to the forefront? The jealousy? The little bit of longing? It was the alcohol talking you were sure. You would never want to jeopardize your friendship by allowing yourself to picture him as anything more than that but for a flash of a second it hadn’t seemed like such a bad idea.

“Oh, I dig it too.” You say, nudging him in the gut teasingly. What you didn’t see was the way Frankie’s breath had hitched at the slightest inkling of you expressing interest in him, even if he knew you were just joking around. “I bet if you asked you could get her number.” You say and he’s snapped quite violently out of his trance. 

He didn’t want her number. He wanted you.

“Nah, she’s not really my type.” Is the response he settles for, his attention resettling on the fight in an attempt to drown out the feeling of disappointment he wasn’t sure he knew how to hide. He knew it wasn’t fair on you but the slightest hint of jealousy might have been nice to hear and instead you were giving him a rousing endorsement to go after someone he didn’t even like all that much.

“Are you kidding? Pardon the pun, but she was a knockout!” You exclaim just in time to watch Benny take a rather jarring blow to the jaw.

“Meh,” Frankie shrugs and you can’t help the yelp of surprise that escapes you.

“If she’s ‘meh’ then what am I?” You exclaim and Frankie’s jaw just about hits the ground at the fact that you could even think to ask him such a question. You were just about perfect to him in every way imaginable.

He doesn’t get the chance to tell you when the crowd roars to life as Benny finds himself making a comeback and you’re practically jumping out of your seat to bolster your support for your friend.

“You should go get her number.” You suggest when you sit back down, a little confused as to why. Perhaps you were overcompensating for your wave of jealousy earlier but there was still something in you screaming for you to stop acting like you were so okay with it. Because if the way you had reacted earlier and your current state of inebriation was any inclination, you clearly weren’t, but your mind was in no place to put those pieces together at the moment.

“Why is everyone trying to set me up all of a sudden?” Frankie scoffs playfully trying to shrug off your suggestion. “First Pope, now you,” He stops himself hoping you haven’t realized he’s probably said too much.

“Who was Santiago trying to set you up with?” You ask. Just the question he didn’t want to answer, especially not right now, not like this. He’s quite literally saved by the bell announcing the end of the match and when you look up Benny’s opponent is unconscious in front of him. A KO and you’d both missed it. You wouldn’t be getting out of that one too easily. You’re whisked away in post win festivities before you can even think to get an answer from Frankie.

He thinks you’ve forgotten about the conversation completely until he’s gotten you and Pope both wrangled into the car on your way back to the apartment and you pipe up from where he thought you had passed out the moment he had you strapped in. 

“So what’s Francisco Morales’ type?” you ask groggily, clearly not ready to give him a break yet and he laughs as he peers into the rearview to make sure Pope is still asleep before he even considers giving you an answer. 

“What makes you think I have a type?” He counters fruitlessly in hopes that he can at least attempt finding a suitable answer.

“Well you said Carol-”

“Cheryl-”

“-wasn’t your type so I’m assuming that means you have a type.” You prod him, your eyes still shut as you leaned back in the passenger seat.

“Well… I’d say my type would be someone who is smart, funny, supportive, all those wonderful things,” He explains, feeling a little more at ease when he looks over to see your breaths have shallowed slightly and your head has lulled against the window. “Has a good sense of humour, makes me smile, is fiercely loyal to her friends,” he goes on, “can be a complete dork if she wants to be, has no idea how beautiful she is,” he adds “and has me completely and utterly wrapped around her finger.” He mutters to himself when he looks back up at the road with a sigh.

<– previous chapter | Roommates | next chapter –>

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[thelittleboyfromloveactually]

Worth it

Jj maybank x reader

Promt: 1. “Don’t touch me!” And 7. “I can’t see you get hurt!”

Promt list (angst)

Warnings: physical abuse, blood and injuries, yelling, angst, cussing (these topics can be triggering to some!!!!!!)

Word count: 1837

@dylansslutt I hope this is what you wanted!!! Thank you so much for requesting! I really enjoyed wrighting this and I hope it’s a fun read! Requests are still open! Love ya!

6 years ago I moved from New York City to outer banks, North Carolina. I was the weird new girl from the big city. My family wasn’t rich, not even close. Infact money was the reason we moved here. My dad lost his job because of an alcohol problem and my mom was a police officer. We couldn’t afford to live off just her mortgage, so when my mom got a job offer here in obx we couldn’t turn it down. Here it was cheaper, there was a school for me to go and my mom grew up here so she had some friends. But me, I had no friends, not one. That was until my second week at school, this little blond boy, jj maybank came up to me. We were ten at the time, him and his friends were going to go to the beach later and he said I could come. Because I didn’t have any other friends I wasn’t in any place to turn down this offer. Ever sense then jj and I have been best friends. I didn’t know jj the best out of everyone but I guess that intrigued me. Last year my parents went through a divorce, my dad was losing it, his addiction was getting worse and worse. My mom moved us out leaving my dad with 10,000 dollars to get help. It was hard, even though he was an alcoholic he was still my dad. Jj was there for me the whole time, became closer than ever. Jj knows everything about me, my past, my home life, my favorite ice cream flavor, my favorite place everything. I know as much as I can about jj, I know that his dad beats him, he spends a lot of nights on my couch, I know that he plans to drop out of school and travel and surf. He’s my best friend but the problem is, ever sense that day that he came up to me, I’ve had a crush on him. He didn’t like me that way though and even if he did, “no pogue on pogue macking”.

Today is my 17 birthday, and here that means only one thing, a keger, a big ass keger. I love parties but there’s always trouble at *these* parties. I would prefer to just get drunk and hang out at John b.s place. So I’ve spent the entire morning trying to talk them out of it.

“I swear to god kie!” I yelled

“Don’t even try Y/N!” She said

“Come on you love parties!” John b added

“No, I love small parties, remember the last time we had a keger?! Ya know you almost *drowned*!!!” I said

“It is her birthday guys” Sarah said, Sarah my by best girl friend, I haven’t known her for long but we immediately bonded.

“Oh come on!” Said John b

“Fine, Sarah is right it’s Y/Ns choice” kie said

John b sighed “fine, I’ll call and tell jj”

A few mins later John b hung up the phone

“Alright jj said he’ll be here around 4:00, he says happy birthday, he’s sorry he is not here” John b said

4:30

“Here should have been here 30 minutes ago” John b said

Everyone was laying around John Bs living room, sweating their asses off. We had been waiting for jj, he wasn’t answering his phone. Normally we would just leave it alone but jj never missed my birthday.

“Should we try calling again?” Sarah asked

“We’ve called 15 times, and I texted him” I said shaking my head

It was silent

“I’m going” I said as I stood up

“No the fuck your not!” John b said standing up and blocking my way to the door

“Yes I am! He could be hurt!” I said trying to move John be out of the way

“Y/N you know what he said!” John b said

Yes I did know, the pogues had a list of rules, but jj also had his own

Never go to JJs house

Never under any circumstance break rule number one

“I don’t give a fuck about what he said!” I yelled, when your mom is a cop you pick up on some self defense. John b was in my way, and i would never hurt him…..but jj may be hurt, I had seen first hand what his dad could do. I ducked down and swiped John Bs legs making him fall.

“Wtf Y/N?!” Kie said

“Sorry guys” I said as I ran toward the door. I pushed it opened and ran to my car. Kie and Sarah came running after me yelling my name. I ignored it and started toward JJs house.

About 5 minutes later I pulled into the driveway. Well the kinda driveway, it was more like a clearing with rubble and weeds. There was a car there, jjs dad's car. My stomach dropped at the sight. I took a deep breath

“It’s gonna be fine” I said as a opened my car door and stepped out

I walked up to his front door, my hand was shaking as I went to knock. Why was my hand shaking? It was gonna be fine, right? I knocked, but JJ didn't open the door, his dad did. He looked drunk, he had a cigarette in his mouth, he was dirty and he had an old cut on his face. This was a bad idea, jj may not even be here.

“Uh um hi s-sir” I Stuttered on my words

“Who are ya?” He said look around me

“Um I I’m Y/N, jjs friend, is he here?” I said looking into the house

“Ah you're his little slut girlfriend, ya here to break up with him? Not surprised” he said stepping closer to me

I stepped back, I could defend myself against him if I needed to, I reminded myself, “actually no sir, I’m just his friend, is jj here?”

“Ya he’s here, what do you want with him?”

“Where is he?” I ignored his question

“How about you come with me little lady and I’ll buy you a drink?” He said and grabbed my hand

I ripped my hand out of his and punched him in the face

“You little bitch” he yelled holding his now bleeding cheek, he swung his arm again to punch me. He hit me right in the eye.

Then suddenly he came at me and I dodged him and pushed him past me. He was definitely drunk. I ran inside and closed the door, my hands were shaking even more, I tried to lock it and luckily I was able to. Then I heard a car start in the driveway, the car sounded older. Not mine, but jjs dads. I let out a breath of relief and turned around to look at the house. The coffee table was filled with beer bottles, there was glass on the floor and a broken picture frame. I needed to find jj.

“JJ!!! JJ!!!” I yelled his name, I could hear the crack in my voice when I yelled.

I made my way through the small, dirty house and to his room. The door was locked

“Jj?! Please open the door!” I said as I rocked on the door

I was about to say something again but the door swung open

“What do you want?!” Jj yelled as he slammed the door frame

I jumped, almost tripping over myself. Jjs face was bruised and bloody. He was shirtless, his chest was covered in bruises. I looked up at him, I was confused. I saw his face soften when he saw me, he looked surprised, then he got angry again.

“Y/N?! What the hell are you doing here?!” He said stepping closer to me

I was at a loss of words, I was already shaky but when Jj yelled it set me off.

“I um I-I” I started but was cut off by jj

“Fuck Y/N, did he do this to you?!” Jj yelled

“Jj please stop ye-“

“That son of a bitch! I swear to fucking god” he began walking out of the hallway toward the door

I stood up “JJ STOP!” I yelled grabbing his arm

“Don’t touch me! Why can you fucking listen Y/N?! I told you to stay away! And what did you do?! You didn’t! You didn’t fucking stay away! And now” he paused calming down and catching his breath “now you are hurt, and it’s my fucking fault! I swear I’m going to kill him” he said moving his hand over his lips and looking down

“What did you expect me to do Jj?” I was trying to stay calm “you didn’t show up and that scared me, I came to make sure you were ok, and obviously you aren’t, I can’t sit my and watch you come to school with black eyes and bloody lips”

“Fuck you Y/N! You had one job!”

Fuck being calm “you know what Jj I came because I care and because I am your fucking friend ok?! It’s ok to let people care about you! It’s ok *to* care! You don’t need to push everyone away!” I yelled back at him

“I do care Y/N! That’s why I don’t want you here! I can’t see you get hurt!!!” He yelled grabbing my hand

“Well, I’m completely fine so” I said taking my hand out of his and crossing my arms across my chest

“Your not fine”

“I am!”

“Nope”

“Yes! Yes I am, and why tf is it so important to you that I’m hurt, you get hurt, so does John b, and Kie, and rafe, but he definitely deserves that-“ I was cut off from my blabbing

“Y/N I care because I love you alright?! Calm down” he said

“W-what?”

“I’-I’m” he started moving his head as if he was trying to think of what to say, I looked at him, studying his features, then I decided I was going to kiss him, ya ya I was going to kiss him. And I did, my lips met his in one quick movement. He seemed surprised at first but then his lips moved into mine. It was a passionate, needed kiss, but amazing never the less. His tongue moved, asking permission that was granted.

We broke the kiss both trying to catch our breath

“Wait Y/N-“ je started

“I love you too jj, I have forever” I said smiling

“But what about the rules and stuff, I mean I don’t follow rules like ever but” he was cute when he was confused, I began giggling at his attemp

“What? what is so funny?” He asked

“You are adorable,” I said kissing him again

It’s funny, I never thought that I would be here, kissing jj fucking maybank. We we’re definitely gonna get some crap from the rest of the pogues but it was definitely worth it.

[gukyi]

hullo hullo! missed you lots on the dash ❤️ and hope your exams went well! 🥰 may i request “wait, no, don’t take kissing away from me” & myg? — 心 anon

three days straight | myg

You have not seen Min Yoongi in three days. 

Which is weird, because he is, like, your boyfriend. 

To be fair, you don’t live with each other, which would most certainly make three days spent Min Yoongi-less be a lot stranger. But he is your boyfriend, for crying out loud, and you have texted him every day asking if you could see each other for maybe five minutes (five minutes!), to all of which he has texted back “later babe, sorry just rlly busy rn” and left it at that. 

Things are getting out of hand. He’s not even accepting UberEats orders delivered to his apartment. Where could he be?

Eventually, you turn to your last resort. Kim Namjoon. 

[May 27, 9:53PM]

You: Hey Namjoon? Namjoon: what’s up Y/N You: Do you know where Yoongi is? He isn’t responding to my texts You: He actually has not told me anything for like three days so would appreciate any insight

[May 27, 9:55PM]

Namjoon: oh lol he’s been sleeping at the studio for the past week Namjoon: he has a song due to an artist tn so he’s been grinding Namjoon: bc he put it off until the last minute like always You: Of course he did You: Do you mind sending me the address?

One text from Namjoon and twenty minutes later, it is ten-thirty at night and you are creeping into a nearly empty recording studio with two McDonald’s burgers and two orders of fries in your hands, footsteps echoing down the long hallway until you reach the room at the very end. 

Out of politeness, you knock. 

“Namjoon, I swear to God if you’ve come to berate me again—” The door swings open and a very tired looking Min Yoongi stands on the other side, eyes widening when he sees you. “Y/N!”

“Surprise!” You exclaim, as excited as someone could possibly be at ten-thirty at night. “Brought dinner. You haven’t eaten yet, have you?”

“You know me so well,” he muses. You step inside and take a seat on the little leather futon against the back wall, totally uneducated on all of the knickknacks and doodads and gadgets on the table in front of him. How he knows how to use any of these, let alone all of them together, shocks you more and more every day. “God, I’m starving.”

“Have you eaten at all today?”

Yoongi pauses mid-lean, clearly going for a kiss.“Uh, I think I had a granola bar at three this morning.”

“Yoongi! That’s not healthy, you need to eat.” You grab a fry from inside the brown McDonald’s bag and stuff it in his mouth, pulling away. “No kisses until you eat dinner.”

“What?” He looks betrayed. “Wait, no, don’t take kissing away from me!”

Because you’re soft, and because he’s pretty, you concede. Without a fight, because it’s late and you love him. “Fine. One.” You place a quick peck to his lips. “Now eat. More kisses later.”

“Alright,” he says with a sigh. “Thanks for bringing this for me. I missed seeing your dumb face.”

“Me too. When you’re working in the studio, you need to let me come visit you. I don’t like thinking of you holing yourself up in this room for three days straight,” you plead. “Did you at least finish your song?”

“Yes, finally,” Yoongi says, and you can just hear in his voice how relieved he is. “Thank God. Took forever. But I’m getting a big payout for this one, so how about we go out for a nice dinner tomorrow?”

“Mmm, and then your place afterwards?” You ask with a smirk. 

Yoongi grins, pressing another kiss to your lips, sending sparks through your bloodstream. “Why don’t I give you a little sampling right now?”

[joheun-saram]

The Back of Your Car (myg)

Summary- How would you deal if you were stuck in the trunk of your best friend’s car with your new crush?

word count- 3.3k

pairing- undergroundrapper!yoongi x recentgraduate!reader

rating- R

genre- fluff, smut(ish?), friends2lovers, collegeau

warnings- nothing too bad, just making out and dry humping to orgasm lol, oh and swearing.

a.n- my first Yoongi fic? Yes sirrrrrrr. I be simping for this man all day everyday. Also, yes the premise is dumb but also who doesn’t wanna be locked in a trunk with Yoongi. Just me? Okay. Coolcoolcool.

This was written for the ‘A Long Hot Summer’ project by @thebtswritersclub​. The member I picked was Yoongi and the sense I chose was touch, because when you can’t see you can only feel. 👀  Hope you like it!

Feedback much appreciated! 💕

gif is not mine! :)

----------

“Really guys? Really?” You sighed as you stared at the small trunk of Jin’s sedan. You were so done with your friends. The audacity of them to ask you to jump into the trunk for the two-hour-long ride. 

“What? We cleared all the junk for you! Plus it’s not like you’ll be alone.” Namjoon stated matter-of-factly, his hands on his hips.

Your friends had been planning this week-long trip to Jin’s cottage for the past month as the last hurrah before everyone really started working in the real world, and somehow everyone had missed the fact that two cars would not be enough for your group of ten and all your belongings.

You had been friends with most of them since at least the start of university, over five years ago, but you’d be lying if you said they still didn’t annoy you at times. Well, you had been friends with everyone except Min Yoongi, the person you were being forced to now share this tiny trunk with.

“Why can’t Jungkook and I share the trunk?” You looked pleadingly at your closest friend. Jungkook and you had been friends since childhood and his bunny smile was present in almost all your pictures. Although you had been introduced when he and your younger brother became friends in fifth grade, it soon became evident that he and you were a better friendship fit as after middle school his appearances at your house soon turned from gaming with your brother to watching movies and arguing over anime in your bedroom. He had seen you madly in love with your first boyfriend and then seen you ugly cry, wasted at 2 am after your first breakup. Whereas, you had been there to buy him a cake and blast Lonely Island in his dorm when he lost his virginity in his freshman year of university. Jungkook was comfortable, Jungkook was easy. Plus, your habit of platonic cuddles made you far more comfortable spooning him for two hours than the mysterious Yoongi, who you met four months ago and may or may not be harboring a massive crush on.

“Noona, I can barely fit in there alone! You and hyung are the smallest of the group. It just makes sense!” Jungkook looked proud of his logic, patting your head smugly as you glared at him. You hated that he was now the muscle-bound version of the scrawny kid you used to know but more so you hated that he was entirely justified in his logic.

“But what if we get rear-ended? I will die! Do you want me to die?!” You were exasperated as you stared at the group with wide eyes. This was not how you imagined the end of your summer before the real world to be - with Hosoek’s car filled with all your supplies, taking up most of the backseat, leading to your dilemma. Who had thought it was a good idea to bring an icebox that won’t fit in the trunk? Well, none other than the host, Jin, who insists his steaks needed ample room to breathe in the ice for the ride up to the woods.

“You can get in first, so if we get rear-ended my death will cushion you,” Yoongi spoke softly, looking at you as you blinked dumbfoundedly at him. Although you were sure this was part of his dark humor, you felt a flush creep up your neck at his attempt to dissuade your worries.

Yoongi was introduced to your friends through Namjoon. Your tightly knit group of friends barely talked to anyone else but Namjoon was the social butterfly, always at parties or networking for his Soundcloud growth. He was an amazing rapper, selling out most small clubs he performed at. That’s where he had met Yoongi, befriending him when they performed together, and slowly integrating him into your clan. At first, it didn’t seem like his quiet, introspective persona would fit in your group’s dynamic, what with Jimin and Taehyung’s constant platonic PDA, Hoseok and Namjoon’s rap battles, and Jin, Jungkook and your bickering, but he seemed to have found a groove, seamlessly integrating himself. His deadpan comments whenever Jimin and Taehyung got too much, his addition to the rap battles, and his role as a mediator over your arguments had slowly made Yoongi a solid part of your dynamic in a short amount of time. Even Namjoon and Jin’s girlfriends who had been a part of the crew for over one and two years, respectively, hadn’t gelled in this fast, still feeling like they were eight-wheeling a giant polyamorous group.

“Umm… thanks? But that’s not the point. We shouldn’t have to ride in the trunk because Jin’s precious icebox stole the seat!” You tried to play it cool, ignoring the amused smirk that Jungkook threw your way as he spied your face heating up. He was all too aware of your crush and would take every opportunity to make you feel awkward around Yoongi.

“Okay tell you what. If you guys ride in the back, we’ll give you guys the best room in the house. First pick and everything,” Jin negotiated, clearly annoyed at the situation and wanting to get on the road.

“Alright. One more condition though. You all are buying mine and Yoongi’s drinks for the whole trip.” You acquiesce, because to be honest the master bedroom at Jin’s cottage was the most coveted spot, usually not even up for discussion. It boasted a king bed with the softest mattress imaginable, not to mention the ensuite bathroom consisting of a jacuzzi. You were beyond excited to snag that baby to yourself for the week. Plus, with your alcohol tolerance being among the highest of the group, you were excited not to drop any money on alcohol.

With hums and cheers of agreement, the party started moving along. You climbed in Jin’s trunk first, opting to face Yoongi rather than spoon him awkwardly. He climbed in with much less resistance than you, curling up as far as he could. Space, however, was smaller than you had anticipated and in this position, even though you both crossed your arms, your knees and arm were touching. You were happy when Namjoon abruptly shut the top, engulfing you both in darkness since it hid how red your face had become at the proximity. Your skin felt like it was on fire where it touched his, your heart speeding. You wondered if he could hear it and if it was healthy if it kept this pace for the next two hours.

Surprisingly you could barely hear what was happening in the car, voices coming through in muffled and music barely audible, drowned by the hum of the engine that roared through as the car started moving, slowly jostling you.

“You okay?” Yoongi asked tentatively after a few minutes. “You seemed a bit nervous about getting in.”

“Yeah, it’s just a little claustrophobic.” You weren’t lying, although it felt more so because of your feelings for Yoongi. Although you routinely hang out with him and your friends, practically every day this summer, if you were really counting, you had never once hung out with him alone. Even when he requested to record your vocals for one of his songs, Namjoon had been there. Now just sitting with him alone you felt extremely awkward, unable to deal with your feelings.

“Here, let me turn my flashlight on,” he said as he dug around for his phone in his pocket, one of his calves now between yours. “I heard that light can help with that.”

You were suddenly blinded as he turned on his flashlight. As your eyes adjusted to the onslaught of photons, you saw Yoongi’s face, much closer than you had thought it’d be. Although you had found him attractive since the first time you met him, you had never seen him this close. His cheeks were squished by his shoulder, his long black bangs swept haphazardly across his forehead as his lips pursed in a little pout. You didn’t think you could find him more attractive but he took your breath away. You don’t know how long you just stared at him but your trance was broken as you saw his lips move, registering what he was saying far more slowly than usual.

“I’m sorry you’re in here with me. I’m not the best company, I know.” He averted his gaze opting to look above him.

“What? Why would you say that?”

“I don't know. You wanted to be in here with Jungkook. I understand though, he’s much nicer than I am.” Your heart fell at that. You didn’t think he would be bothered by your insistence to be with Jungkook and you were starting to feel guilty.

“I only said that because I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

“You don’t have to say that. It’s fine I get it. You don’t really like me.” He looked into your eyes, trying to search for any dishonesty.

“Of course I like you. What?”

“Oh? It’s just that you never talk to me.” Oh if only he knew the reason why you never talked to him was that you were scared you were going to stumble over your words and make a fool out of yourself.

“I… You never talk to me either!” You tried to move further away from him so he couldn’t make out the flush that was creeping up with your neck, finding you had nowhere else to move to. 

“I always try to talk to you. You either answer in one word or just walk away.” Yoongi didn’t know why he was being so insistent but he needed to know. He had found you interesting the moment he met you. Every joke you made had made him laugh and he would be lying if he didn’t listen to the vocals you recorded for him almost daily. “It’s okay… I’m sorry. You just make me nervous.”

“Me? I make you nervous?” You tried to control the giggle that arose at his comment but were unsuccessful. Why would you make Yoongi of all people nervous? 

“You’re intimidating!” He laughed, smiling at you.

“Sure… Whatever you say Yoongi.”

Soon your conversation moved to a comfortable one, sharing anecdotes about your friends and laughing over their antics. You hadn’t realized how easy it would be to talk to him once you were over your nerves. You hadn’t even thought about the constant voice in your head that made you spaz every time you saw him. However, that was short-lived as suddenly, you were thrown into the darkness, the light from Yoongi’s phone cutting off.

“Ah. Sorry. I think my phone’s dead.” He reaches between you to tap his phone to no avail, his fingertips lightly brushing your skin, making your skin tingle and reminding you again why you were nervous.

“It’s okay.” You don’t know why you whispered, but somehow the dark changed the entire atmosphere - your nerves kicking into high gear again. You could feel the hum of the car, each little bump on the road overtly noticeable. If you didn’t know any better you’d say you could feel his breath on your face. Yoongi felt it too -  the comfort dissipating into tension, making his heart beat faster.

“Careful!” He hisses as the car hits an exceptionally big bump, his hand instinctively reaching out to hold your head to ensure you don’t hit it at the back, while his other goes to your waist to pull you closer. In the cramped space, there was nowhere to go and you could feel your skin heating up where he touched you, sending sparks down your spine.

The air seemed to have thickened between you - the jokes of earlier fading away to make room for whatever this tension was as your heart pounded in your chest, his breath now definitely on your face. Suddenly there’s another bump, and Yoongi takes the opportunity to pull you closer, his jean-clad leg moving further between your bare ones. You suddenly realize how close this leg is to your core, and a slight whimper escapes your lips. His eyes go wide. There’s no way that sound was for him, was it? Regardless of all the times he had dreamt of having you in his arms, surely his mind was playing tricks on him. There was no way you were actually into him like he was into you.

“Y/N…” he says softly as he tries to unsuccessfully make out your eyes in the dark. You feel your face flush as you realize that you didn’t imagine the whimper, you actually made that noise, out loud. Panicking you rack your brain for an excuse, but all you can do is say his name, speaking it breathlessly into the small space.

He feels his heart accelerate when he hears his name from your lips. If he didn’t know any better he would think it almost sounded like a plea. It’s taking all his willpower not to crash his lips against yours, to hear more of your whimpers. Before he can get too lost in his thoughts another bump on the road sends you forward, your hands fisting in his shirt, faces only a hair length apart.

You don’t know who leaned in first but soon your lips are against each other. He feels your soft lips on him and it’s like he’s in a trance. The dark seems to have heightened his senses and it's like he can feel every single movement tenfold. You move your hands from his shirt to the nape of his neck, wanting him closer and it seems that he wants the same as his hand moves from your waist to your hips, pulling you closer.

You feel his tongue on your lips and you oblige, feeling sparks of electricity flow through you as you taste him. He tastes like mint and coffee, a combination that you would have found abhorrent except right now it felt like the sweetest nectar. The kiss is desperate like if you stopped the other would disappear, and it leaves you panting. 

In between kisses, Yoongi grabs your ass, groping it and making you moan in his mouth. A smile makes its way across his face as he relishes your sounds. He can’t believe this is happening. He kisses down your jaw to your neck, wanting to taste every bit of you.

“I’ve been wanting to do this since I first saw you.” You pant in between moans as he sucks on the sensitive juncture where your neck meets your shoulders, the dark igniting a boldness in you. Hearing you say that makes him stop. He wishes he could see your face to see if you were joking, but before he can get too much in his head, he hears you whine his name.

“Me too. Fuck.” He says as he continues kissing your neck as he starts moving your hips, making you grind against him. Even through layers of clothing the friction from his thigh on your clit is palpable, making your breath hitch, your hand holding on to his sleeve at the shoulder. “Is this okay?” 

You can only moan in response as he abandons your hips now that you found a rhythm and moves his hand up towards your chest, moving it under the hem of your shirt. Your skin is deliciously soft as he strokes your stomach gently before he moves to your back in search of a clasp, only to find none. You weren’t wearing a bra and that only made him harder as he cupped your chest, feeling your nipples under his thumb as he grazed over them. The sensation was unbelievable, making you soak your panties, it was like his hands were barely there, making you arch your back, chasing his touch. You could feel your orgasm building as you felt the tension in your stomach build. He had barely even touched you and you felt like you were going to lose your mind. Each sensation felt new. You finally understood what Madonna was talking about in that song.

You pulled his face close to you mewling a “please” against his lips as you crashed your lips against them. You melt into him, the passionate kiss igniting more pleasure in both of you.

“Are you going to cum baby?” He asks, his breath mingling with your pants, the nickname warming your heart, as he pulls your head back gently by your hair, giving him more access to your neck, sucking and kissing, driving you closer to the edge. “Go ahead. Cum on my leg baby.”

The pressure inside you grows as you grind faster, the friction against your clit simultaneously too much and too little. He finally increases the pressure on your nipples, rolling them between his fingers as he ravishes your mouth with a deep kiss, making you come undone. Your legs shake, your hands grabbing at his shirt and hair, walls clenching around nothing as you cum. 

“Fuck. Yoongi” you whine as you come down from your high, his lips still on your neck, your panties sticking to you.

“God. You’re so hot.” Your moans are still ricocheting through his mind as he takes your hand in his, intertwining your fingers and kissing the top of it. Even though he didn’t get any relief and his boner still painfully lies against his tight jeans, he doesn’t mind, enjoying your scent as he nuzzles your neck.

“Yoongi, I have to tell you something.” He wishes he could see you. The way you began your sentence makes his heart ache in anticipation as you pause longer. “I like you.”

“I’m glad you don’t kiss people you hate like this.” Yoongi is elated, pulling you in for another kiss, different this time. It’s gentle and he wants to put all the emotions he’s been feeling in it. He wants to show you he likes you just the same, if not more. You pull him closer as you return the kiss, mirroring his tenderness.

“No, I mean I don’t want this to be a one-time thing.” It makes his heart race. He can’t believe how lucky he is.

“I’ve been dreaming about you since I met you, do you think I’m going to let you go now?” He chuckles as he kisses your forehead and here cramped in the back of Jin’s car you think you’ve found heaven. “We should really thank Jin and his obsession with steaks, eh?”

You laugh as you feel the car come to a stop, giddy with endorphins, your four-month crush finally coming to fruition. The sunlight is bright when the guys open the trunk, blinding you momentarily before your eyes focus to see Yoongi smile at you, wide with his gums on display. It makes you giggle like a lovestruck teenager when he tucks your hair behind your ear. To Yoongi at that moment, you’re the most beautiful person he’s met. He climbs out of the car, helping you out as well.

“What the fuck? Did you guys make out in the back of my car?” Jin yells as he looks at the two of you and both of you go red at being caught.

“Umm… no. Why would you say that?” You avert your gaze from the broad-shouldered man bashfully as he looks at the two of you wide-eyed.

“Noona, hyung has your lipstick all over his face.” Jungkook supplies, a cocky smirk on his face, and that’s when you register Yoongi’s lips and jaw painted your signature red, making you laugh uncontrollably.

“Whatever. It looks good on me.” Yoongi says with a drawl and an eye roll as he holds your hand in his. “Let’s just go to the cottage, okay?”

He leads the group, your fingers intertwined. That week you make sure to take advantage of the room you both won. The jacuzzi does wonders to heal your soreness from your adventures in the king-sized bed, much to the chagrin of Hoseok who had the unfortunate luck of sleeping in the room next door.

[mrsalwayswrite]

To Call Forth Love - Chapter 5

Here it is! Ivar and Kari’s “date”....between friends of course. 

Norwegian translations are via google, apologies if incorrect.

Warnings: swearing, Ivar being Ivar, sexual tension, fluff 

Words: 8000 

Series Masterlist

Tag List: @youbloodymadgenius

"Stupid, stupid, stupid." Kari repeated to herself as she fixed her chocolate brown hair in the bathroom mirror. She hated how Ivar had manipulated her into going out with him, coming to her work and turning her class into participants in his scheme. Why couldn't he just let this go? Why did he have to keep injecting himself into her life?

 She vehemently ignored the small part of her that enjoyed his attention. Sure, she found him attractive, he was gorgeous, there was no denying that. It did not help how her mind liked to vividly recall how intoxicating his kisses felt, how passionate his embrace was. Never had she had a man pursue her so intently; well really, any man pursue her in general. The conflicting emotions were warring within her mind. It was best if they did not interact, if he forgot about her and moved on…. for both of their sakes. The traitorous part of her heart that yearned for more, whispered beguilingly for her to just try. 

 She still hated his manipulation. 

 A loud banging on the front door jolted her from her thoughts. She raced back to her room to see a luxury Mercedes car parked in front of the driveway. This was it. Her breath hitched in her throat. Was she really doing this? A second pounding on the door forced her to move. Snatching her purse off her bed, she made her way down the stairs and opened the front door. 

 Only for her jaw to drop. 

 There stood Ivar dressed in a designer black suit and white shirt, that complimented his body in all the right ways. His dark hair was braided back impeccably. One hand tapped on a dark metal cane by his side. He looked so deliciously suave and sophisticated; it was unfair. A runway or photoshoot seemed a more appropriate place for him instead of waiting for her at her front door. His blue eyes, even more striking in contrast to the dark colors of his suit, traced over her body with a severe scrutiny.

 "You're not wearing that."

 And that harsh statement was enough to rip her attention back from her ogling. She glanced down at her clothing, a nice pair of jeans and one of her favorite flowy blouses. 

 "What? You said dress nice."

 He tapped his cane on the ground once, as he scoffed. "Yeah, not dress like you're going to a fucking outdoor festival."

 "Well you didn't give me much information to work with." She retorted, already fed up with his attitude. It was his fault she was unaware to dress like they were going to some black-tie event. Since agreeing to this ill-conceived date, she had been on edge; and now him throwing this in her face, even more solidified this was a bad idea.

 "Right, let's go." He started past her, heading towards the stairs. 

 "Wait, what?"

 He looked at her over his shoulder and stated-as if it explained everything in the world, "I told you, you're not wearing that." Turning back, he began ascending the staircase. 

 She groaned, shutting the front door, and pressed her forehead against it. What had she done in a past life to deserve this? If she walked out of her front door and disappeared, how long would it take for him to notice? The idea was tempting. 

 The thumping of his footsteps and cane up the stairs preceded his voice yelling down, "left or right?"

 "Right!" She called back, then realized he was heading to her bedroom alone. She scurried towards the stairs and up them to enter her room just as Ivar stood in front of her closet. 

 "Do you own anything that isn't fucking athletic clothing?" He waved a hand at her wardrobe like it personally offended him. 

 She gestured to the clothing on her body. 

 "Right. We're going to fix that." He said as if to himself before diving into her closet. 

 Unsure what to do, she sat on the edge of her bed watching the scene unfold before her. Any other time this might have been amusing to witness. Ivar pushed around the clothing on the hangers, opening a couple of the drawers before returning back to the hanging clothes. The whole time she noticed, even as he muttered to himself, he was never rough with her stuff, nor was he delicate either but he seemed to take care of how he handled her things. 

 "This." He pulled out a dress after a couple of minutes, holding it up on the hanger. The dress was something she had bought spur of the moment when she first moved here as a treat to herself but never actually had a reason to wear it. It was a rich purple, off-the-shoulder, high-low skater dress that she loved. On more than one occasion she pulled it out just to admire it and hope one day to have a reason to wear it. It was most likely the only thing she owned that could pretend to be black-tie appropriate, even if it fell woefully short. 

 "Come on, we don't have all day." He shook the hanger, holding it out towards her. 

 She pursed her lips in annoyance but snatched the dress from him. Wordlessly, she went to the bathroom attached to her room, making sure to lock the door behind her. Changing into the dress, she reminded herself she just had to make it through tonight. He would realize how boring and uninteresting she was and then she would never hear from him again. 

 Once changed, she tried to touch up her make-up better. Adding some eyeliner and darker eyeshadow, she only added a gloss to her lips to finish it off. Make-up and fashion had never been something she excelled at but she could hold her own. Luckily, she had painted her nails a shimmery silver so they matched her attire.

 With one last look in the mirror, she gave herself an approving nod. Her blue-green eyes popped with the enhancement around them, the bit of blush and bronzer made her cheekbones sharpen and her lips looked fuller and shiny due to the gloss. The dress itself flattered her nicely, emphasizing her small waist and toned legs. She ran her hands over her sides, loving the soft feel of the material. At least she had the chance to finally wear the dress. 

 "Here goes nothing." 

 Opening the bathroom door, she was surprised to see him seated on the end of her bed, typing away on his phone. "Shoes and jewelry are on your table." He said without looking up. 

 A small table sat shoved into the corner of her room, her bed taking up most of the space. On it was the small jewelry box she owned, along with her aloe vera plant and a couple of small succulents. Laying out on the table was one of her few expensive necklaces she had brought with her when she moved, and it was one of the most sentimental. Reverently, she put it on, running her hand over the small diamond pendant hanging on the dainty, silver chain. It matched the small diamond earrings she always wore. A gift set from her grandmother. 

 "Who taught you fashion? Most guys are hopeless." She jabbed, as she slipped on the slender, black heels that he set out for her. She had forgotten she owned them. He must have dug into the recesses of her closet, a terrifying thought. 

 Either he ignored her tone or was not paying attention, as he was still focused on his phone. "You spend enough time with my mother, you begin to pick up useless information."

 That answer she did not expect. She peered over at him, still staring down, and smoothed down her dress once more. Nerves fluttered in her belly. Which was ridiculous since she did not really care what he thought of her appearance. Right? 

 "Alright." She announced. "Does this earn the highly esteemed Ivar's seal of approval?"

 He rolled his head to the side, a sharp comment obviously on the tip of his tongue, but when his eyes locked on her…. he froze. A myriad of emotions flickered through his eyes before he blinked and swallowed thickly. "Come here." He commanded, holding a hand out to her. 

 There was a tenderness in his gaze that beckoned to her, even more than his words. In three strides she found herself taking his hand and standing in front of him, before she could rationalize her actions. It felt almost instinctual, like she was drawn to him without conscious effort. Plus the way he gaped at her now, it was like he was admiring the rarest gem or most breathtaking natural phenomenon. The vulnerability in his admiring gaze caused her to look away, unnerved just by the sheer awe in his eyes; yet at the same time she had never felt so beautiful or safe.

 "Vakker, kattungen min." He murmured, almost inaudibly. 

 "I don't know what that means." She whispered back, the air feeling heavy with something unnamed. 

 "I know."

 "So…" She glanced at their hands, his thumb running lightly over her knuckles. "This alright?"

 His gaze greedily trailed over her, taking in every curve and dip of her body. Then once his eyes met hers, he winked salaciously. "It's adequate."

 Her jaw dropped for a second before she shook her head and laughed. "Well you dressed me. So, if it's only adequate, it's your fault."

 "I didn't have any good material to work with." He let go of her hand, rising to his feet. 

 "You sound like a diva."

 His heated gaze instantly transformed from sensual to threatening in an instant. "The fuck does that mean?" He sneered, looming over her. 

 "Not...nothing...I'm just teasing you." 

 Tension surrounded them, Kari had to physically restrain herself from squirming under the feel of it. It was terrifying how his demeanor could switch so drastically. How he could go from sweet to dangerous in the blink of an eye. Finally after a long moment, he huffed and turned away. 

 "Come on, we're going be late already."

 Silently, she followed behind him, unsure of what to expect next. They headed out and into his vehicle, the driver taking off as soon as they were both seated. 

 The residual anger rolled off of him like encroaching mist, not sure if it would eventually dissipate or grow into a storm. So she watched the city pass by out the window, a place still both unknown and becoming familiar. After ten minutes, suddenly thick, calloused fingers hesitantly entwined with her slim ones. Peeking over, Ivar was also looking out of his window but his hand reached across the seat between them, his fingers gently holding hers. She wondered if this was his silent way of apologizing. Instead of pulling away like would have been the intelligent thing to do, they rode the rest of the way with their fingers entangled and a comfortable silence between them. 

 When they pulled up to the restaurant, she now understood why they were dressed so formal. She had heard about this place but never in her wildest dreams thought she would actually be eating here. Casa mia, Maggiore ranked in the top five most popular and most expensive restaurants in the city. To even get a table, it had to be booked months in advance. The Italian restaurant was legendary, catering an old-world theme while boasting the best chefs in the country. From what Kari overheard, all the praise was well-deserved. 

 She could only gape as she scooted out of her seat and took Ivar's hand to help guide her out, too distracted by the magnificent building and the shock they were eating here. Her head swiveled about, like a child in a candy store, trying to see everything. What appeared to be stone columns lined the short walk to the entrance. Once inside, the tantalizing aroma of garlic bread sticks, wine and savory meat blended together with underlying hints of seasonings to immediately make her mouth start watering. A small fountain bubbled in the front entrance, a peaceful sound amongst the dim noise of conversations. Ivy hung strategically around from more columns or baskets on the walls. Marble-esque statues decorated corners. The rich colors of the restaurant tied in beautifully with the stone and wood making the place feel like you stepped through a portal straight into Italy. 

 The two walked up to the host standing behind a podium. 

 "Two for Ivar Lothbrok." 

 The sharply-dressed man barely glanced down before he responded. "Ah, yes, thank you, sir. Follow me."

 "Ivar, how did you get us in here on such short notice?" She quietly asked as she walked beside Ivar, not even realizing they were still holding hands, too caught up in staring at everything. 

 "I know the owner."

 "Of course." She muttered, earning a playful wink from him.

 They were led to a partially secluded table, which had a perfect view of the restaurant and the live instrumental band on a small stage. 

 She started towards the opposite side of the table, to sit across from Ivar but stopped when he said her name. 

 "Sit by me."

 Tilting her head in confusion, she just shrugged it off and moved to sit next to him instead of across the table. Soon as she sat down, she was grateful. Now she faced the direction of the live band and the captivating mosaic on the far wall. Every time she turned around this place continued to astound her. 

 "Anything I start off for you, sir?" The host asked as Kari and Ivar settled into their plush seats. 

 "Yes," Ivar answered immediately, "we'll start with a bottle of the Fontodi 2017 Chianti Classico."

 "Excellent choice, sir. I'll send your waitress with it in a moment."

 As the host walked away, Kari turned to him. "This is…. this is too much, Ivar. Why did you bring me here?"

 He shrugged, leaning back casually. "It's my favorite restaurant." Like that explained why he was prepared to spend a couple hundred dollars on their dinner. 

 "This feels like a date-date. I told you I was only going out as friends."

 "Yeah, well I have expensive taste. So shut up about it and enjoy. I swear you'll be thanking me after you taste the food here."

 Silence descended once again. As he scanned over the restaurant, she took the moment to stealthily appreciate how handsome he looked. His chiseled jawline, beguiling eyes and plump lower lip was enough to entice anyone; but his broad shoulders, strong upper body and toned stomach could make anyone swoon. Her mind drifted into wondering what he looked like bare chested, what his apparent muscles would feel like under her hands. Heat flooded her face and belly as she realized where her mind went. Friends, just friends, she tried to remind herself. 

 He must have caught onto her blatant ogling because he spoke to her without turning his head away from the band. "See something you like?"

 Her face further inflamed, fiddling with the necklace as she tried to compose herself. To change the subject, she blurted out the first question that came to mind. "You said earlier, spending so much time with your mother, you picked up some fashion sense from her….is she….um…." Her question trailed off, not quite sure what she was trying to get at. 

 He studied her for a moment then returned to watching the band. "My grandmother, my mother's mother, was a fashion icon who wanted her daughter to follow in her footsteps. Instead my mother married my father. She still has connections in the fashion world but she focuses more on the hotel chain she and my father started."

 "Aesir, right? Aesir Luxury Hotels?"

 He nodded. 

 The cost for one night in those hotels was more than a down-payment on most houses. Only the wealthy and elite ever stayed in them because of their outrageous costs. 

 "Are you…. close….to your mother?"

 He hesitated for a moment but she could visibly see his gaze and demeanor soften. "Yeah, I guess. She spent most of my childhood at my bedside or in a damn hospital. And when I wasn't bedridden from surgeries, she forced me to travel with her or be at her side because she didn't trust many people to "properly" take care of me. Floki and Helga were the only ones she truly felt confident in. Even father or my brothers, she would call almost every other hour to check in on me."

 "I met Floki, didn't I? He has the head tattoos."

 Ivar paused as the waitress returned with their bottle of wine. He waved her off when she went to pour it and quickly gave her their order, sending her away with a dismissive wave of his hand. 

 "I didn't get a chance to look at the menu." The brunette protested.

 "Kitten, trust me. I know you'll like this." He said as he poured them both a glass of wine. "And yes, Floki has the head tattoos. He's been a friend of my father's since they were children, he's even more of an uncle to us than my actual Uncle Rollo."

 "Oh, he seemed…. ah, nice?"

 Ivar laughed loudly, startling an older couple at a nearby table. "He's a mad bastard, smoked too many herbs when he was younger but he's solid. I'd trust him with my life. I have on occasion. What about you?"

 "What about me?"

 "Are you close to your family?"

 "Not really. My father died in a car accident when I was five so I don't remember him much. My mother is…. she’s a complicated woman. We don't talk much. My grandmother was the one who really raised me. She was my safe to go to when I was a child." That was as close to the truth as she could get, every word honest but certainly missing a few important details. 

 He hummed, swirling his wine seeming deep in thought. After taking a sip, his eyes landed on her with an intensity that threatened to split her soul. "Is that why you moved out here from England?"

 She froze, the glass just touching her lips. 

 "What?" He asked, eyes wide in innocence. 

 "What do you know?" She breathed out, mind frantically racing. 

 He answered her with a sly smirk, looking pleased with himself like the cat that caught the canary. "You moved here almost two years ago from a small village in England where you lived with your mother. You had top grades in school, played football for a few years while in school, tried to go to university but dropped out. Not too much later you moved here. Also, you have the worst fucking taste in music. Ed Sheeran? Adele? Could you be any more stereotypical?"

 "How...how do you know that?"

 "The security on your phone is pathetic. Even an amateur could hack it. Don't worry, I already ordered a new iPhone for you when it comes out in two weeks. The Playlists on your phone are fucking boring. And your Netflix account...remind me to introduce you to good movies and TV shows instead of that shit you've been watching."

 "You…." Her words tumbled out as her mind refused to fully comprehend what he was admitting. "...you are unbelievable. You hacked my phone? You looked up information on me?" 

 He shrugged. "I always do that with anyone I meet."

 "Ivar…. that’s…. that’s not ok."

 "Why?" 

 "Because…. people deserve their privacy. I mean, if you wanted to know that information about me you could have asked, LIKE A NORMAL PERSON." She tugged on her earring as she looked away. Thankfully the information he got on her was only her cover. She made a mental note to thank Albus when they talked on the phone next. Still, if he could find all this out about her in a week…and he acted like there was nothing wrong with his behavior. She could tolerate many things but this, having her privacy invaded like this. She pushed her chair back and started to rise. "I think, I think I need to go." 

 "What are you talking about?" His voice dropped to a low, menacing tone, a sudden fire blazing in his eyes. 

 "Ivar, I like you for some reason, you're fun to talk to and you're interesting but this…. I don't know if I can be alright with it. You crossed a line and I think it's best if we stop talking now. I'm sorry. I'll get an Uber to take me home."

 He seized her wrist in a firm grip just as she took a single step away. "Is this because I hacked your phone?" He sneered, only tightening his grip on her as she tried to tug her wrist away. 

 "Yes….and looked into my background." She sighed, holding his burning gaze. "That's just not…. that’s not normal behavior."

 "It is in my family. We have to be careful who we get close to…. who we let in."

 It was in his hushed tone, the way he made his answer sound like a confession that held her in place even more than his physical grip on her. Sincerity danced in his eyes, but also something more. Something far stronger and darker. Staring at him, the only word that came to mind was fear. Was he truly that terrified by the idea of her leaving? Although he tried to hide it behind the anger, it lurked just within view. That vulnerability she caught glimpses of, that drew her to him. How much of his instant rage was only a mask?

 Then she thought about his response. Even if the answer did not completely pacify her, it kind of made sense. Was his family even able to fully trust people or did they constantly second guess their motives? 

 His eyes dropped to their hands, his grip loosening marginally. "If I promise not to do it again, will you sit back down?"

 When she did not respond, he looked back at her. She was never one for direct confrontation, but passive-aggressive, the silent treatment, she was a professional at. So she waited, pressing her lips together intentionally. He was the one continuously forcing himself into her life, manipulating her. If he did not want her to walk away right now, he was going to have to learn her boundaries. And abide by them. She was done fully playing by his rules only. 

 A voice in the back of her mind that sounded eerily like her roommate screamed at her, reminding her of the darker side of the Lothbrok reputation, particularly Ivar. 

 His words struggled to come out through his clenched teeth. "I promise not to hack into your phone or run anymore backgrounds on you unless I think it's absolutely necessary."

 "Your definition of necessary is probably different than mine."

 "Fuck. Fine. Unless I think you or someone else is in danger, that kind of necessary…. fucking happy now?" He released her, running his hand over his braids, and glaring in the direction of the live band as if plotting their murders. 

 "Thank you." She slowly settled back into her seat. 

 Ivar grabbed his wine glass and drank the whole thing in two gulps before reaching for more. Luckily the waitress returned with their food, setting a plate in front of each of them and a basket of breadsticks in the middle of the table. 

 "Oh gods. This looks delicious. What did you order?" She eyed the plate set before her, her senses overwhelmed with how utterly mouth-watering it smelled. 

 "You have Pansotti Alla Genovese."

 Without another word she took a bite of her pasta and practically moaned. She closed her eyes as she let the flavors settle on her tongue. There was no doubt, whatever was in this pasta was pure magic. When she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was Ivar staring at her with a hungry look in his eyes, and she did not think food would satisfy that appetite. It made a warmth curl in her belly and a flush rise to her skin. 

 "What?"

 He blinked. "Nothing." He abruptly dropped his gaze down and started to cut the meat on his plate. 

 "What did you order?"

 "Osso buco alla Milanese."

 "It looks good." She lightly commented, taking another bite of her pasta. Maybe the chefs were all wizards here, that's how the food tasted so good. Forget the train platform, the kitchen here was the secret entrance to Hogwarts. 

 "Want to try?"

 She almost choked on her food. Chewing quickly, she took a sip of her rich wine before speaking. "Excuse me?"

 "Open your mouth."

 She just stared at him. 

 "Come on, kattungen." He cut a small piece of the meat and speared his fork with it. A mischievous smile on his face, he held it close to her lips. "Trust me."

 It smelled divine whatever it was, so she opened her mouth and allowed him to feed her. Soon as it touched her tongue, her eyes involuntarily closed again. 

 "Mmm…. that’s amazing."

 "I told you to trust me." He winked, putting a bite into his own mouth. 

 "Yeah, yeah. So, you know all about my favorite artists and movies. Are you going to tell me about yours?"

 "You know, you asking me all these questions is really starting to sound like a first date. You sure we aren't on a real date and you're just saying…."

 She reached over and swatted his arm. "Unbelievable. Now answer my question."

 It took a tense minute before he really started talking but before she knew it, she was regaled with a comparison of heavy metal bands, the ones he liked and disliked plus some rock bands he listened to. Several jabs were made at his brothers and some of their choices of music. Next they easily slid into comparing movies, him continuously making fun of her love of animated movies. The rest of the dinner flew by as they talked effortlessly, never a dull or awkward moment in their conversation. It was completely different from how tense everything started, it almost felt like two separate dates…. between friends. 

 All too soon they were walking out of the restaurant.  The air was still warm from the late summer, even as the sun had disappeared beyond the horizon. People still wandered along the stretch of businesses. The loud thumping from a nearby club intermingled with the sounds of cars and pedestrians. 

 Before they left the table, Ivar had called his driver. Now the luxury car waited for them just off the main sidewalk. As they approached, her gait began to slow down. 

 "Do we, um, never mind." She started then changed her mind last minute, hurrying the extra steps to catch up with him.

 "What is it?"

 "It's nothing really, let's go."

 "Kari," he stopped her with a hand on her arm, uncaring of the people that had to swerve around them as the two stood in the middle of the sidewalk. "Just tell me."

 "Do you have to take me home now? I mean, I get it if you need to leave so you can sleep and be ready for work or whatever you do."

 "No, no, I don't have to drop you off yet. What do you want to do? I mean if you want to go back to my place and take advantage of me, I did drink more than you so…."

 "Stop it. I take it back. I want to go home now!" 

 As she tried to step away, he dropped his cane to grab both of her wrists, pulling her closer and placing them on his chest. "Tell me." He commanded gently, looking down at her with those bright eyes that pierced her soul. 

 "It's stupid." She mumbled, fiddling with the lapels of his suit jacket. 

 "For fuck's sake, just tell me."

 "Alright." Although she hesitated a moment longer, the words slipped out hesitantly, like she expected him to laugh at her when finished. "There's this ice cream place around the corner I've always wanted to go to. All the flavors are named after famous art pieces."

 "Masterpiece. That's the place?" He clarified, head cocked to the side. 

 "Yes…"

 "You want to go out for ice cream?"

 "Yes?"

 He was quiet long enough for Kari to start to fidget out of nervousness, then a bark of laughter erupted from him with a broad grin on his face. "Fuck it. Why not? I don't think I've been out for ice cream since I was four."

 "Well all the more reason to go. See I'm doing you a favor."

 "Shut up. Stay right here." He snarked without malice, then picked up his cane and headed over to tell their driver about the change of plans. After quick instructions, he walked back over to where he left Kari on the sidewalk. "He'll meet us there. Come on."

 She did not complain when he wrapped an arm around her waist as they started in the direction of the ice cream parlor. Instead she slipped her arm around him, too happy to be going somewhere she had only dreamed about. Of course the place was expensive, just based on its location that was evident, but she would have felt weird going alone. Plus, she did not have anyone she felt comfortable asking. Alana might have been willing but she was busy lately with her work and school. Gyda was the only other person Kari could think of that might go with her. The thought reminded Kari of how few friends she had here. 

 The parlor was everything she had hoped for. The interior looked like a high-class art studio. Various sized canvases hung along the exposed brick walls, the entire wall facing the street was a window. None of the chairs or tables fully matched giving an eclectic vibe. Classical music played in the background, only competing with the handful of other patrons in the parlor. 

 Not caring how childish she looked, she practically sprinted to the counter and pressed her face against the glass to see all the different flavors offered. 

 "Gods, how old are you, Kari?"

 "This is ice cream! Age doesn't matter!"

 They both scoured the many flavors, laughing at some of them and debating the merits of others. A couple comments were made about what they should try next time, which sent Kari's heart fluttering, even if she tried to not let it get to her head. Eventually after much deliberation, Kari ordered a cup of Girl With A Pearl Earring while Ivar chose The Garden of Earthly Delights. 

 Ivar paid, ignoring her insistence that she pay for herself this time. She thanked him, grabbing her cup and looking towards the tables. Only two tables were occupied, both pressed against the large window so there were plenty of spots to choose from. Ivar was finishing up the transaction when the patron standing in line behind them whispered loudly. 

 "Fucking move already. Your crippled ass is holding up the goddamn line."  

 Ivar whipped around without hesitation, his icy blue eyes overflowing with rage. "You want to fucking say that to my face?"

 The man dressed in a light gray business suit glared at Ivar. He could not have been much older than Ivar or Kari but the way he sneered down at them gave the impression he thought he was more mature. "Are you done yet? Just move, if you're able to."

 Without a word, Ivar took a menacing step forward, twisting the top of his cane with his hand. Immediately, Kari crowded Ivar's side, grabbing his face with both of her hands, forcing him to look at her. The snarl on his face and the wrath in his eyes terrified her, promising blood to be spilled. 

 "He's not worth it." She cooed, trying to put out the raging fire in him. "We're having fun, ok? Just ignore him." 

 He took several deep breaths, the tremble in his body dissipating with each second as his eyes bored into hers, before giving a faint nod. That fury lingered under the surface, just waiting for a spark to set it off. Kari slowly moved her hands away but not before caressing his cheeks, hoping to instill some sort of calm. His eyes fluttered shut for the briefest of moments under her touch, tipping his head to lay his head in her hand for a second. 

 After Ivar straightened, he looked back at the man. "You're fucking lucky, if she hadn't said something you'd be in for the ass-whooping of your life."

 "I'm so scared." The man mocked, rolling his eyes. "Are you fucking done yet?"

 Kari turned back to the man, having grabbed her ice cream cup quickly off the counter. "We'll be out of your way, I'm so sorry…. oops." She "accidentally" tossed the ice cream cup onto the front of the man's suit. The cream-colored ice cream slid down his gray suit, to start dripping on his shiny leather shoes. 

 "You bitch! Do you know what you've done?!" He screamed, hands frantically waving. 

 "I'm so sorry. Would you like me to grab some napkins?" She asked with a sickly-sweet tone. 

 Before the man could say another word, Ivar raised his cane to press the end against the man's chest. "You better take care of that before it stains."

 If looks could kill, Kari and Ivar would have dropped dead. The man glared and muttered curses under his breath as he stormed out of the parlor. 

 Kari looked over to the lady behind the counter. "Do you have a wash cloth and bucket? I can clean up the mess."

 "Oh, don't worry about it. He's always an asshole. Honestly, this just made my night. Let me get you a new cup on the house."

 Kari convinced Ivar to go choose a table for them as she waited for her new ice cream cup. While making small talk with the lady, and learning about a new seasonal flavor coming out soon, she noticed Ivar had picked a booth across from the large windows. After thanking the lady once more and grabbing her cup, Kari walked over to him, ice cream in one hand and purse in another. 

 "Thank you again for…." She started as she slid into the booth seat across from him but her voice trailed off as Ivar slid out from across and onto her bench. "Wha…"

 Without warning, he wrapped an arm around her, clutching the back of her neck while the other hand cupped the side of her face. His lips descended on hers with a bruising kiss. She gasped at the unexpected action, which allowed him to deepen the kiss. It felt feverish and not appropriate for their surroundings. Her hands clung to the lapels of his suit, to keep herself upright under the onslaught of his delicious mouth. 

 "That was so fucking sexy." He mumbled as he switched to placing soft pecks against her lips.  

 "Ivar, stop…." She tried to lean away from him, to be able to think and breathe fully, but the grip he had on the back of her neck prevented it. 

 He pressed his forehead to hers, his erratic breathing matching her own. "Gods, you don't know what you just did. Fuck, kjære…. only family ever stands up for me, never...never anyone else."

 Her heart broke at hearing that. She did not know what to say, so she cupped his face, stroking his sideburns as they both just breathed. This felt even more intimate than the kissing their swollen lips were evidence of. It was sweet and raw. No facades, no boundaries, just a moment of understanding and connection. 

 Eventually he stole another quick peck before leaning back. She knew she would have to address all the kisses but with what he just confessed, now did not seem the time. 

 Kari took a bite of her ice cream, both to distract herself and try to erase the feeling of his lips. "Wow, this is delicious." She gushed, eyes wide. 

 "What is yours?"

 "Mmmm…. it’s praline, I think." She peeked at his cup. "What’s going on with yours? It looks like it's got a little bit of everything possible."

 "Garden of Heavenly Delights. Just like me." He winked flirtatiously, scooping some onto his spoon. 

 She snorted, covering her mouth quickly. 

 He narrowed his eyes, "what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

 "Nothing…. just something caught in my throat."

 "Yeah, and I was going to share with you. Changed my fucking mind now."

 "Ivar, you are the best and are truly a delight! Anyone who says differently clearly has never met you! " She squealed, placing both hands over her heart and fluttered her lashes at him. 

 "That sounds much better. Open your mouth."

 "No, I can…"

 "The only way you are trying this is if I feed it to you. Your choice."

 His ice cream looked amazing. She was not sure what exactly was in it, looking more like a conglomerate of all the best ice cream toppings mixed into the frozen ambrosia….and she really wanted to try it. He fed her back at the restaurant and nothing bad happened. This was just sharing food between friends, nothing special. At least, that's what she told herself. 

 "Fine." She opened her mouth and wearing a self-satisfied smirk, he gently stuck the spoon in. First the chocolate hit her tongue followed quickly by the caramel and the little bits of candy mixed in. "Oh, that is divine!" This time she did not even try to suppress the moan. Ice cream was a gift from the gods and no one could convince her otherwise. 

 "Told you, just like me." He winked and licked his lips. 

 Signing in mock annoyance, the way her lips curved upward teased of her amusement. "Alright, your turn." She stated, scooping up some of her ice cream and holding her spoon at his mouth. 

 He opened his mouth, maintaining eye contact with her the entire time as his lips and tongue worked the ice cream off the spoon. She bit her lower lip at the suggestive look he gave her, unable to tear her eyes away. It was a miracle their ice cream did not immediately melt from its close proximity to his blatantly heated look. Slowly she pulled her spoon back, only to scoop up some for herself to try and distract from the ache pooling between her legs. His gaze lingered on her; she could feel it even as she stared down at her cup. 

 "Tell me about your brothers." She said, not so subtly, trying to diffuse the growing heat between them and the way her mind kept creating images of tasting the ice cream off his tongue. The kisses he kept stealing were not helping her resolve and her stance as just friends. 

 "Why?" He asked with an incredulous look.

 "Well, I already know Gyda. And I'm an only child, so call me curious."

 "Nothing interesting to tell. They're all idiots."

 She giggled. "They can't be that bad…. please?" She tried batting her lashes at him again, knowing she looked ridiculous but did not care. 

 He groaned, running a hand over his mouth, before speaking. "You met Bjorn. Him and Gyda are from my father's first marriage to Lagertha. Then there is Ubbe, the oldest, Hvitserk, and Sigurd."

 "Do they all work with your family?"

 "Why do you care?"

 His sharp tone caught her off guard for a moment, but she kept her voice light. "It's interesting." She answered honestly. 

 Taking another bite of his ice cream, he surveyed around the parlor. There was no one sitting close by them. Only one other table was occupied now and it was almost across the dining area. Finally, he leaned back with a grimace, throwing his arm on the back of the booth, toying with the loose strands of her hair. "My father started Ragnarssons Trading but over the past few years he's slowly handing it out over to Bjorn. Fucking imbecile. If it wasn't for Torstein, Torvi, Hvitserk and Lagertha, Bjorn would drive the company to the ground."

 "Why?" She desperately tried to ignore the way his thick fingers felt twirling her hair and just brushing through it. All of her muscles fought with the desire to relax into his touch, but she kept her back straight. 

 "He's better at social connections, traveling, meeting new vendors and creating trade agreements. The day-to-day running of the company, he sucks at."

 "Wait…. Lagertha?" Her mind jumped back to the name previously mentioned. "She works for your father's company?"

 "She heads the second office in Istanbul, though she focuses more on trade around the Mediterranean."

 "Isn't that awkward? I mean, I guess they must still be friends, right?"

 He shrugged but by the way his jaw tensed, she decided to drop the subject. There was a story there and it sounded full of drama. None of it was her business anyway. 

 "Ok, um, Hvitserk." She tried to get back on the subject. "I met him the other day too, right? What does he do?"

 "He advises, but he helps head the finances also. Making sure father and Bjorn don't spend all the company money on huge parties."

 "Ok, Sigurd?"

 "Nothing useful…. wastes his days on music and women." Contempt laced his every word, shocking her but she pressed on. 

 "And the oldest?"

 "Ubbe." He nodded. "He helps advise but mostly helps my mother run the hotels."

 "And you? What do you do?"

 "I'm hoping to do you."

 "Oh gods! That was terrible." She laughed loudly, swatting at his chest. A genuine smile teased his lips and his eyes lit up, erasing the intensity he wore like a mantle. Seeing that, all she could do was stare. She had seen him angry, cocky, smug, charming and furious, but this look, an almost boyish sweetness peeking through made her heart swell. Silently, she decided it was her favorite look of his. It was like the dark clouds rolled back to reveal a sunny day. It was breath-taking. 

 If he noticed her gaping at him, he thankfully ignored it. "Security mostly." He replied indifferently, scooping up some ice cream with his left hand. 

 "I feel like there is a whole lot there you aren't telling me."

 "Anyone tell you, you're damn nosey."

 "I am not!" She gasped dramatically, but a smile quickly settled on her lips. "I just want to learn more about you."

 He stared at her for a moment as if lost in thought, then rubbed a hand over his mouth before speaking. "I sometimes help my mother out but I do mostly contract stuff so I can make my own schedule."

 "Do you like it?"

 "I guess, I'm good at it." He tugged on her hair lightly, that sweet smile still on his face. "What about you? Why yoga?"

 She thought about her answer, how best to articulate her feelings. "It was something that I did for me, you know? Back in England. When I moved out here…. if I had to work, I wanted to do something I enjoyed."

 He hummed in understanding. "Your family did not approve?"

 "My mother thought it was stupid. My grandmother was the only one who encouraged it. She was the one who would drive me to the yoga studio whenever I could go, even though it was an hour away."

 "Sounds like she cared about you."

 Kari felt her breath hitched for a second, emotions swirling in her chest at the memory of her grandmother. "She did." She softly said, dropping her gaze to the table. 

 "Done?" He asked after a quiet minute, both having finished their ice cream and now just sitting there talking. 

 "Yeah."

 They disposed of their trash and walked out onto the sidewalk together. Ivar's car was parked just off to the side, the driver leaning against the car and smoking. The late summer's warmth still permeated in the air. Without a word, they slid into the Mercedes. With the ice cream settling in her stomach, Kari shivered once she got into it. The temperature difference was just enough to cause goose bumps to break out on her skin. 

 "Here." Ivar slipped off his jacket and laid it across her lap. Then, in an almost practiced move, he slung an arm around her shoulders and tucked her into his side. 

 "I'm fine." She grumbled, even as she made no indication to scoot away from him. 

 He chuckled, but made no sarcastic comment. They rode in silence for several minutes, cuddled together in the back seat and watched the city pass by under the starlit sky, before he spoke up. 

 "Are you glad you agreed to come out with me?"

 Unable to help the slight jab at him, she muttered. "I didn't have much of a choice."

 "You have more of a choice than you think." He whispered, barely audible even with her sitting next to him. 

 "What?"

 "Nothing." He snapped, sounding suddenly defensive. "So?"

 "I had fun. You aren't so bad to hang out with, I guess."

 "Shut up."

 She giggled at his mock annoyance, the smirk he was trying to suppress gave him away. Wordlessly, he tugged her closer, if that was even possible, and laid his head on top of hers. After they both drifted back into a comfortable silence. 

 The line of friendship she was trying so hard to maintain was blurring and she found herself struggling to try and fix it. Never had a man held her like this and she found herself unconsciously melting into his embrace. In his arms, she felt safe and warm. A fact that concerned her. This was Ivar Lothbrok, someone with a dark reputation for anger and violence, if you believed all the rumors. Cuddled up with him right now, she was not sure what she believed. 

 When they arrived at her place, she winced when she noticed Alana's car in the driveway. Hopefully her roommate was asleep or watching a movie in her room. Somewhere where Kari did not have to explain why she was dressed up fancy. There was no simple explanation she could conjure that would be believable. 

 Sitting up, she slipped Ivar's jacket off her lap and turned to say thank you but stopped when he cupped her cheek. 

 "I want to kiss you." He breathed out, staring at her like he was unsure if he wanted to worship or ravish her. 

 She tried to shift subtly, the blooming ache between her legs distracting. Teasing him, she purposefully kept her voice light. "Do you always kiss your friends?"

 His lips twitched but he remained focused on her. 

 "Ivar…. we’re just friends. I told you. I can't be anything more."

 "Samme det. Jeg har ikke tenkt å gi opp når som helst snart, kattungen min." The foreign language rolled off his tongue gracefully, as he rubbed his thumb along her cheek. 

 "What did you say?"

 "Nothing." He pressed a kiss to her cheek, lingering a moment too long for it to be considered chaste. "I'll text you."

 "Ok. Good night, Ivar."

 She slid out of the car and walked to the front door, her skin tingling from the warmth of his body against hers. She waved at the dark vehicle before letting herself in. 

 Once she was finally in bed after taking a hot shower, she laid there for a long time, her time with Ivar replaying in her mind. Did she hate how Ivar manipulated her into going out with him? Yes. Did she actually enjoy her time with him? Yes. It was all so confusing. She repeatedly told herself she needed to stay away from him, it was better for their lives to diverge…. but he was making it hard to follow through with that conviction. The more she learned about him and spent time with him, the more she found herself not wanting to walk away. Even if it was the best thing to do. 

 She rolled over onto her stomach and pressed her face into the pillow. She had meant to get away from drama, to live simply and just enjoy life. That was why she had moved away in the first place. Now having Ivar inserting himself into her life, he was turning her life upside down. And she could not decide if she was truly upset about that or not. 

[starshapedkookie]

“everything i’ve wanted.”

CONTINUATION OF: “i’d rather be dead.” 

pairing: jungkook x female reader 

summary: The aftermath of Jungkook breaking up with his long term girlfriend hasn’t gone how you were expecting. After all, you believed with her out of the picture, everything with Jungkook would be easier and he would finally be yours. Turns out, Jungkook’s guilt for what he did may be the one thing that’s stopping him from fully giving his heart to you.

genre: angst, smut, little fluff, college au

word count: 10.7K

includes: mentions of cheating, swearing, drinking, smoking, unprotected sex (wrap it up gentlemen), dry humping, hair pulling, feelings of being used

note: hi welcome back. if you haven’t already please read the first part (i’ve linked it above😊) this was written on a whim of inspiration to continue one of my favorite things i’ve written. less smutty details in this one but that’s fine lol. please give me some feedback if you want & enjoy the shitshow!

.

It had been exactly one week since the party. One week since you found out Jungkook had broken up with his long-term girlfriend. One week since he had taken you back to his place and made you his—finally. Or so you had thought. One week, seven days, 168 hours, and 10,080 minutes since you had last seen or spoken to him.

You had tried to reach out at least once day, sending him a call or text only to be left unanswered. In the two months you had known Jungkook, you hadn’t gone one day without at least texting each other. The first time exchange numbers was to keep up with a friend in the class you shared, only later down the line to turn more inappropriate. You hated this. You weren’t sure what was wrong with him. You only wanted to help him and be there for comfort, but he obviously needed space.

You had bit your nails down to the quick before you realized and had skipped more meals in the past week than you ever had in your life. You didn’t know why you were being like this—you and Jungkook weren’t dating. The circumstance far from that. After all, he was the one who had just left his girlfriend of nearly two and a half years—he has a right to feel down. 

You had thought after so much time of him longing for you—fucking you—after she was out of the picture that the two of you would ride out on a stallion into the sunset. Maybe you misread the situation. But after so long, you wanted Jungkook—you wanted him to be yours. You waited long enough—it wasn’t fair for him to shut you off like this.

“Earth to Y/N,” a snap takes you from your thoughts. You blink your focus to Min Yoongi and Mina—your roommate and best friend—along with the new black haired friend that’s in one of Mina’s classes. Yoongi was a nice guy—quiet and reserved, but super thoughtful and always telling it like it is.

“Sorry,” you laugh, stabbing at the salad in front of you aimlessly, not planning on finishing it.

Mina eyes you curiously, “Are you okay? You’ve been acting kind of strange,” she says tilting her head slightly. Even Yoongi who hasn’t known you but for a few weeks max, would agree with Mina.

“Oh, I’m fine,” you brush it off, “I’m just really stressed about midterms,” you say. It was partially true. You were stressed about Jungkook, but even more stressed about your next round of exams mainly because you had yet to start studying—because you were busy worrying about Jungkook.

Mina only half believes you. “Okay, just let me know if anything’s wrong?”

You know she means best, but sometimes you wish she wouldn’t go creeping into your personal life. She knew about yours and Jungkook’s situation and was not a fan, obviously. You couldn’t help but fear she knew exactly why you were acting strange—no matter how much you tried to fool her.

“I’m gonna get a coffee,” you announce standing up from the table, “Want anything?” You ask Mina and Yoongi. They both shake their heads before looking back at their laptops.

You walk over to the coffee shop, squeezing through the crowds of people. Peak lunch time was the absolute worst in the dining halls on your campus. Freshmen, sophomores, juniors, and seniors all trying to eat at the same time was a horrifying sight. Especially for someone like you who didn’t want hundreds of pairs of eyes looking at you.

You place your coffee order, plain black with three sugars, before someone catches the corner of your eyes. It’s Jungkook. He hasn’t noticed you and you feel your heart racing just from one glance his way. He’s picking up a Grubhub coffee order and before he can walk away you say—

“Hey,” you offer with a small smile. Jungkook’s eyes flicker over to you and his face is unreadable. He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly before speaking.

“Uh hey,” he says monotonously before turning on his heels and walking away from you. You watch his back as he walks away from you and you don’t think your heart has ever felt like this before. The sharp pain in your chest is hard to ignore and you can’t help but wonder; what have you done?

You grab your coffee before walking back over to the table where you and your friends sit. You don’t even get fully in your seat until Yoongi is asking you a question.

“You know Jungkook?” He asks. You nearly freeze and you ignore the way Mina’s eyes flicker up from her computer.

“Uh yeah,” you say, “We have a class together,” you leave it at that.

“Gotcha. We’re frat brothers,” he says and you stop yourself from rolling your eyes. Of fucking course they are. “He’s been kind of MIA this week, acting weird and shit.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, “Really?” You act like you don’t know what he’s talking about.

“Yeah apparently him and girlfriend broke up, did you know her too?” he asks. You have to fight the urge of your skin wanting to heat up. Mina is looking dead at you right now and you choose to ignore her fire-bolt of a stare.

“Uh, no not really,” you clear your throat awkwardly.

“I just didn’t know if you knew what was going on with him,” he says, “Not that you guys care,” he laughs dismissing the subject.

You look at your watch before gathering your things up. “Well I have class in ten minutes. I’ll talk to you guys later,” you say.

“Wait up, I’ll walk you. My class is on the way,” Mina says gathering her things too. You internally groan. Fuck.

“Alright, see you later,” Yoongi says waving the two of you off.

Once you and Mina are outside away from the commotion, she immediately begins to question you.

“Jungkook and his girlfriend broke up?” She presses, “Did you know this?”

You had failed to relay this information to Mina as you weren’t sure how to approach the conversation. If everything was normal between you and Jungkook it would have been an easy conversation to have—a relieving one at that—but we see how that’s turning out.

“Uh yeah,” you say kicking a rock as you walk.

Mina’s eyes nearly pop out of her head, “What the fuck and you didn’t tell me?!” She scolds you.

“Why do you care so much?” You shoot back at her.

She rolls her eyes, “Um maybe because my best friend had been fucking him behind his girlfriend’s back for two months, that’s why I care,” she half whispers, “Is this what’s been going on with you?”

“I’m fine Mina,” you say.

“Bullshit,” she spits, “Shouldn’t you two be happy about this?”

As much as she hated the circumstance—she knew you and Jungkook just clicked.

“He hasn’t spoken to me in a week,” you say simply approaching the building your class was in. Mina’s eyebrows furrow.

“Wait… seriously?” She seems just as confused as you feel.

You nod, “I don’t know what’s up with him,” you sigh, “I’ll see you later okay?”

She lets you go and once you get to class, you don’t even open your laptop, staring at the back of the chair in front of you the whole time.

______

You thought you were dreaming when you got a text from Jungkook the next evening around 8:30 PM. Your mouth goes dry and your hands clammy as you fumble with your phone.

[Jungkook 8:32 PM] what are you doing

[You 8:34 PM] Nothing much

[You 8:34 PM] What about you?  

You bite your lip nervously as the bubbles show up of him typing.

[Jungkook 8:35 PM] can I come over?

You think your heart skips a beat and you don’t think you can reply fast enough.

[You 8:35 PM] Of course

Mina was out studying in the library therefore you were by yourself. You could use the company and Jungkook is easily the first person you could think of you that you want to be with right now. You tidy up the messiness that’s consumed your room the past week and make sure the living room and kitchen were clean enough for your liking. You’re throwing on a sweatshirt as you hear a couple knocks on your door.

You hurry over, opening the door quickly. Jungkook stands there dressed in all black—black sweatpants, a large black long sleeve shirt covering his frame. His dark hair is messy and his eyes are tired. You probably look the same to him.

“Hi,” you squeak out, stepping aside for him to come in.

“Hey,” he says, seeming much more relaxed than he was at the coffee shop yesterday afternoon. His eyes glance around your apartment, “You here alone?” He must have taken note of the silence within the walls.  

“Uh yeah,” you shut the door, “Mina’s out at the library with our friend Yoongi,” you explain watching his frame carefully.

“Min Yoongi?” He asks, his gaze turning back to you.

You nod, “Yeah… he’s in your frat right?”

“Mhm,” he nods, “I like hyung a lot.”

“Yeah he’s nice,” you say and you swear the tension rises after each passing second of him being here. It’s suffocating.

You lead Jungkook back into your room and shut the door as he lays down on your bed with a deep exhale. He covers his eyes with his arms and you sit down on the edge of the bed, eyeing him carefully. He seems distressed and you aren’t sure what to say to him.

“H-how are you?” You ask him hesitantly. He removes his arms from his face, looking at you and then over to your desk scattered with school work.

“Not good,” he says, again monotonously, but truthful.

“I figured,” you are careful with your word choice and you keep your tone low, barely audible. He laughs and you can’t tell if it’s sarcasm.

“Why do you say that?” His eyes finally meet yours and stay locked. His tone isn’t serious, but it isn’t exactly playful either.

You bite your lip, breathing heavily, “I mean… you haven’t spoken to me in over a week so I just thought…” you trail off, not sure how to finish what you’re saying.

His eyes don’t leave yours and his gaze is too heavy for you. You look away as he speaks again.

“Y/N,” he says, getting your attention again, “I’m sorry… I’m just going through a lot right now…”

You turn back to him, shifting your body to face him more. His hand is right by your leg and your tempted to grab it—and you normally would have—but you don’t this time.

“You can tell me anything Jungkook, you know that,” you tell him honestly. He knows this and you shouldn’t have to tell him.

He stays silent. He looks as if he’s trying to find the right words to say, but he doesn’t know how to formulate them. He looks down at your body before putting his hand on one of your legs that’s bent towards him.

“I just thought this would be easier,” he says, his thumb rubbing small motions on your bare skin, “It’s been hell.” You think he’s nearly on the brink of tears but he pushes them away quickly.

“Jungkook,” you say putting your hand on his, “It’s the process…” you pause, “I know what you’re going through—“

“No you don’t,” he snaps, pulling his hand away from you. His eyes are narrowed and burning holes in your skin, “Don’t fucking say that Y/N.”

Your lips part in shock. He’s never raised his voice at you, this being the closest thing to that. You ease your gaze on him, not wanting him to be angry at you. Everyone has gone through a break up—and the healing process is the fucking worst, but it’s something everyone goes through—he can’t say you don’t know what it feels like when you do. You don’t defend yourself though, wanting to deescalate his mood.

“Jungkook just let me help you,” you say in almost a whisper, feeling your emotions beginning to creep up the more you look at him. He’s so goddamn beautiful and perfect in your eyes, you couldn’t stand seeing him like this.

His eyes are stormy and he looks as if he’s debating something. He sits up more on his elbows, reaching one of his hands out. You take it slowly and soon he’s pulling you on top of him. Your heart drops into your stomach at his touch—fuck you’ve missed it.

You sit perched on his abdomen, his hands firmly around your waist as the two of you stare at each other, waiting for someone to make a move.

“I don’t deserve you,” he says quietly and you shake your head instantly.

“Don’t say that,” you tell him and he licks his lips quickly and a little too tempting for you.

“Come here,” his voice is deep and you swallow harshly before leaning down to close the gap between the two of you. When your lips meet after an entire week, your whole body sets ablaze. His lips are always so damn soft, sometimes chapped, but not today. Your hands rest on his shoulders as you two move with each other, his own hands slipping underneath your sweatshirt to grip your waist better. You already feel hot and want the material off of you but you want to make sure this is what Jungkook wants before you do anything furthur.

“Jungkook,” you pull away from him momentarily, “Are you sure?” You don’t know why you’re asking because you already know his answer.

He nods quickly, moving the sweatshirt material up from your frame. “Yeah, I’ve missed you so much,” he says and you help him pull it over your head leaving you in your sports bra. He leans up again to close the large gap between you two. You tangle your hands into his hair when his tongue dips into your mouth, once and then twice, sending your core a shockwave. His lips move from your mouth, to the corner of your mouth, to your jawline, and down your neck slowly and tortuously. With the grip in his hair, you pull him impossible closer to you and you shift your weight from his tummy down to his crotch, settling where he needs you the most.

You move your hips experimentally against his sweatpants and he sends a small groan into your ear. You do it again and you groan at the feeling. He pushes your bra up and over your head and quickly attaches his mouth on your left nipple. You continue to grind against his growing member, your clit being stimulated slightly.

Jungkook detaches his lip from your nipple and he quickly rids himself of his shirt before kissing you again. His hands rest against your ass and he pushes you to grind on him again. He moves his hips to meet up with yours and you let out a moan against his lips when part of his shaft hits just where you need it.

You feel an orgasm already approaching as you rock yourself onto his clothed length and you want him inside of you as soon as possible. You need it.

“Fuck, Jungkook I think I’m gonna come,” you breathe out, your forehead resting against his. He rocks up into your clothed core a little harder this time and it’s becoming too hard to stay quiet.

“Come on punkin,” he says against you, “Come for me baby.”

With his words, you find yourself over the edge and your jaw drops as your orgasm quickly washes over you. No—it’s not the best orgasm you’ve ever had but it feels damn good after so long. He covers your mouth with his as you moan into him, your body stifling above him.

“I need to fuck you,” he groans and his brown eyes look almost black as he stares into you. You nod quickly and you get off of his lap, quickly pulling down your pajama shorts and underwear, him doing the same with his sweats and own underwear.

“I don’t have any condoms,” you tell him and he nearly knocks the breath out of you when he flips you over on your stomach.

“It’s fine punkin,” he says and he’s already lining himself up with your entrance. The small friction sending a chill down your spine and you nearly collapse onto your elbows. He slowly enters you, both of you sending harsh groans to each other. Your hands grip the bedding, Jungkook’s left hand gripping your hip just as tight as his other guides his length fully into you.

Once he bottoms out,  he has to breathe heavily to stable himself. You look at him over your shoulder and he’s looking right back, his chest heaving up and down. He starts to move in and out of you slowly and your head falls into your pillows.

“Fuck—shit,” he groans throwing his head back, watching the way he enters and leaves you through slitted eyes. His pace is agonizingly slow and you yourself start to move back onto him, fucking him from the front. You moan deeply as you feel all of his length fill you up. Jungkook watches as you fuck yourself onto him as he listens to your small ministrations. From this angle, his tip hits the right spot deep within you and you’re picking up your pace before Jungkook halts your hips against his.

“Jungkook,” you whine, needing to feel him fast and hard.

“What’s wrong punkin?” He teases and you groan as he slowly pulls out of you and back in again.

“Fuck,” you can’t hold yourself up anymore and you go down on your elbows, trying to focus on your next orgasm that’s slowly building up.

“Want me to fuck you harder?” He says deeply and he leans forward, grabbing a fistful of your hair, pulling your face up from the mattress.

“Yes, Jungkook—goddammit,” you’re almost frustrated the way he plays you like this. It’s all he needs to hear before he picks up his pace, thrusting himself in and out of you quickly but not too fast for either of you. He pulls on your hair each time he sinks into you, his other hand kneading your ass between fingers. His own small whines have picked up as he fucks himself faster into you and you feel your toes curling at the familiar sensation of your climax coming. To your surprise, Jungkook’s hand smacks down onto your ass quick and hard, once then twice, which causes an animalistic groan to come from his mouth.

You reach up in between yourself and rub your sensitive bud to send you over the edge and once it comes, your whole body feels like it’s shattering from the sensation.

“Jungkook…ah, fuck,” you whine loudly and he lets go of your hair, both of his hands holding you firmly against him as he chases his own high.

“Almost there baby, jesus—fuck,” he stills deep within you as he cums. Your name and a string of curse words flowing out of his mouth quietly. You collapse against your bed as he pulls out of you. You’re spent and you nearly don’t have enough energy to turnover. When you do, you almost ask Jungkook to spend the night until you see him gathering his things, pulling on his underwear.

“A-are you leaving?” You ask him, covering yourself with a small blanket on the end of your bed. Jungkook’s eyes glance at you before finding his shirt.

“Yeah… I gotta chapter meeting… for the new pledges,” he says, not really paying much mind to his words.

Your mouth parts, “Oh.”  

You expected him to stay—you wanted him to stay. It was always either one of you leaving after you fucked—but you thought that would be over once he broke up with her.

“I’ll text you okay? I promise,” he’s slipped into his shoes and he leans down to your face, kissing your lips gently but not long enough for your liking.

“O-okay,” the disappointment is evident in your tone and Jungkook notices, but he pretends he didn’t hear it as he leaves your room, closing the door behind him.

You stare at the door, unable to process what just happened. You feel yourself start to get emotional, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes. You cover yourself with your blanket more, feeling lonely, used, and vulnerable. As the first tear falls from your eyes, you don’t stop the others that follow. For the first time in a long time, you’re spending a Saturday night by yourself, crying your eyes out, unable to get those brown eyes out of your head.

_____

Jungkook never texts you. Not Sunday, not Monday, Tuesday, or Wednesday. It’s starting to look like another week is going to go by without hearing from him. You were worried to say the least. Jungkook had never ghosted you and this was now becoming so out of the ordinary, it was something you couldn’t brush off anymore.  

Thankfully on this Thursday afternoon, Yoongi offered to grab some food with you as you study together. You were quiet once again and Yoongi couldn’t help but ask what was going on.

“Y/N,” he says and you look up from your notes to meet his gaze.

“Hm?” You mumble under your breath.

“I’m gonna be honest with you,” he pauses, “I haven’t known you that long but you’re kind of worrying me…”

Your shoulders and face visibly drop. “I swear I’m fine, I just—“

“You don’t have to lie to me you know,” he interrupts you, his eyes burning holes into yours.

You glance away from him, slumping back into the chair you are currently sat in.

“Can I assume this is about a guy?”  Min Yoongi was a quizzical person—a very smart person at that. Deep down, you wonder if Mina had mentioned anything to Yoongi about yours and Jungkook’s situation, but you know she would never do that.

“Sure,” you answer bluntly, not bothering to hide the displeasure in your tone.

His mouth goes straight before almost curling into a smile, “Wanna talk about it?”  

“Not really,” you mutter. You couldn’t talk about it.

“C’mon,” he starts, “We’ve both taken basic psychology classes and we both know ignoring your problems doesn’t make them go away.”

You furrow your eyebrows at him, “Are you volunteering to be my shrink?”

He laughs before speaking again, “I charge five dollars an hour, that covers my Starbucks order.”  

For the first time in awhile, you send him a genuine smile. You stare back down at your notes, knowing you aren’t retaining any of the information so possibly a study break would help. Perhaps you would open up to Yoongi some—but leaving out some minor details.  

You breathe out heavily before shutting your notebook, leaning onto your elbows. Yoongi watches you carefully, doing the same as he shuts his laptop to give you his full attention.

“Well, it’s kind of a long story,” you warn. Yoongi looks at his wrist that doesn’t have a watch sitting on his skin before saying—

“I’ve got all the time in the world,” he smirks and you roll your eyes. “Time is a social construct so I’m all ears.”

“So there’s this guy,” you pause, thinking about your word choice carefully, “We met a few months ago in class and I would see him around at parties. And uh… we both hit it off together well, but then a bombshell dropped that he had a girlfriend, one for awhile at that.”  

Yoongi nods his head, signaling you to continue.

“Um, well skip through a couple weeks and,” you pause, getting ready for the embarrassment that’s about to flow through your body, “We hooked up… like hooked up, hooked up.”

Yoongi’s face falls some, tilting his head to the side, “So…do you feel guilty? Is that why you’re acting weird?” His voice is calm and not demeaning like you were expecting.

You shake your head slowly, “Well… the thing is we kept hooking up, for a couple months,” your voice is uneven and shaky. You hated to admit being the ‘other woman’ but in your moments with Jungkook you couldn’t have cared less.

“Hm,” Yoongi says, “Okay… can I ask why? I mean you knew he had a girlfriend…?”

You bite your lip nervously, “Well every time we were together, he told me that he wanted to be with me and he didn’t know how to end things with his girlfriend.”  

“He sounds like a pussy,” he scoffs with a laugh and you have to fight the temptation for your cheeks to fill with heat. “Are you still hooking up with him? Does he still have this girlfriend?”

You shake your head, “No, he broke up with her recently and… I thought that everything would fall into place now that she’s out of the picture,” you pause, “But he hasn’t really spoken to me since they broke up. I’ve only seen him a couple times since he called it quits.”

Yoongi’s eyebrows furrow, seeming to be somewhat confused. He opens his mouth to say something, but no words immediately come from it.  

“I wish I could tell you why this guy is doing this, but honestly I can’t,” he responds, “Do you know if he told his ex about you?”

“I’m not sure… I’d hope not,” you rush the last part.

“Wouldn’t you want to you know? I mean if your partner cheated on you?” He asks. Cheating. Probably your least favorite word in the dictionary.

You shrugged thinking carefully about your answer, “I’m not sure… maybe if I suspected something?”

Yoongi’s eyes soften, “Maybe his ex suspected something? And now that she might know why he broke up with her, he feels guilty about it now.”

A confused look spreads across your face. You’re not really following. Jungkook didn’t seem to feel guilty anytime his dick was inside of you, why would he feel guilty now?

“I mean maybe he’s pushing you away because he’s trying to cover his ass. Like I said, if she suspected something, seeing her ex with a girl right after they broke up would probably confirm any suspicions she had,” he rationalizes and once you hear those words, it makes sense as much as you don’t want to admit it.

“I guess that makes sense,” you mumble, staring down at your horribly picked cuticles. “I just wish he would say something to me and not leave me hanging like this.”

Yoongi debates saying his next sentence—but he’s not one for a filter.

“You probably don’t wanna hear this but I don’t think you should be this upset over this guy. He cheated on his girlfriend and then strung you along and has left you like this… sounds like a guy you shouldn’t want to be with anyways, single or not,”  he says truthfully.

His words hit you like a ton of bricks. Maybe you had been so infatuated with Jungkook and his huge dick—you couldn’t see that maybe he isn’t what you need right now. Maybe Yoongi’s right?

“Maybe you’re right,”  you mutter, slumping down fully in your seat, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Have you told Mina any of this?” He asks.  

“Yeah, she found out pretty quickly what was going on.”

“What does she think?”

You frown slightly, “She hated the fact that I was demoted to homewrecker but she said if we made each other happy…” you trail off looking at your now cold coffee.

Yoongi chuckles, “Well, don’t settle for the class of a homewrecker, you’re better than that.”

You give him a small smile again, “Thanks.”

“What are you two doing this weekend?” He asks with curiosity.

“I don’t know yet, not sure about her either,” you answer.

“Well, we’re having a party to welcome in the new pledges. You two should come,” he smiles ever so slightly.

You think about protesting when you remember that Yoongi and Jungkook reside in the same frat but that soon passes your mind when you realize you’re in desperate need for some fun. You’re sick of sulking in your room watching The Office for the umpteenth time.

“Sure,” you say, “I’ll let her know.”

He nods and you almost don’t hear him when he says, “You better.”

A smirk creeps up on your face, “Is Min Yoongi sweet for Mina?” You tilt your head jokingly.

“Yeah, yeah fuck off,” he flips you off from across the table before pushing his chair out, “I gotta get another coffee if I’m sitting here with you for another hour.”

You laugh, “Get me one!”

_____

Never in your time at university had you put so much effort into your appearance to go to a fraternity house. Alas, here you were trying on your 10th outfit of the night and double touching up your makeup.

“Y/N! Come on! Our Uber’s here!” Mina yells from your living room and you groan loudly. You look at your black jeans and black blouse that shows some of your cleavage before running out to the living room, holding your booties in your hands.

“I’m coming!” You respond, grabbing a water bottle of vodka in your other hand. You follow Mina out to the Uber and she sits up front while you hop in the back. You quickly slip on your shoes so you’re not barefoot anymore as the driver begins to speed off to the familiar fraternity house.

Knowing you should have started drinking an hour ago, you twist the lid off of the vodka bottle and tip it back into your mouth, making sure the driver can’t see you in the dark. After a big gulp, you pull away and a shiver sends down you spine. Fuck, you hated vodka—why were you doing this to yourself? Then you remembered—Jungkook. You had to get him out of your head to enjoy this night and the only way to do that was to get absolutely plastered. You take another swig and Mina eyes you from the front seat with a judgmental look before laughing to herself.

You had not told Mina about the conversation you had with Yoongi. You weren’t planning on it either. Should would probably kill you if she knew you told him your deepest darkest secret. Granted you were smart enough to leave Jungkook’s name out of the picture but she wouldn’t have cared.

Another ten minutes go by before the driver pulls up to the curb in front of the house. You and Mina thank him before walking up to the scene. It’s about 10:30 PM and there’s already a plethora people here, the music loud, and the smell of different types of smoke coming from all directions.

“Mina! Y/N!” You are greeted at the door by non other than Park Jimin. The hunky guy you nearly hooked up with a couple weeks back before Jungkook obviously changed the plan and fucked you in one of the bathrooms at this very house.

“Hey! What’s up?” You give Jimin a side hug, holding your vodka bottle close to your chest. He also gives Mina a small embrace before pulling away.

“I’m on door duty tonight so no alcohol for me,” he says with a pout, “But don’t let me stop you!” He smiles and steps aside from the door to let the two of you walk in.

The hallway is crowded and a Drake song plays loudly over the conversing. You hold onto Mina’s hand tight, dragging you through the corridors to go to the dance floor. Before you get there though, you run smack dab into the chest of Min Yoongi.

“Oh. Shit, hey guys!” He smiles brightly and you’re sure he’s buzzed.

“Hey,” Mina hugs him quickly.

“You guys wanna drink?” He leans down between you to half yell his question. Both of you nod and he gestures to follow him. He leads you into the kitchen/bar you are quite familiar with before digging into a cooler to fetch some drinks.

You take another shot from your bottle and then hand it to Mina—her needing to catch up with you.

“Here you go,” he hands over a classic hard seltzer and you gladly take it.

“There’s a lot of people here tonight,” you say louder than usual.

He nods, “Yeah all these pledges invited pretty much anyone they looked at this past week,” he laughs. You offer him the vodka bottle but he shakes his head quickly, “I gotta DD at 2 AM, I can’t get shitfaced as much as I’d want to.”

“Gotcha,” you turn to Mina and she takes another shot. After she’s finished, her pointer fingers goes to you and she signals for you to come closer. You lean into her, her mouth near your ear.

“Have you talked to Jungkook?” She asks trying to keep her voice down so Yoongi won’t hear.

You shake your head, “No, why?”

“No reason,” she shakes her head and you furrow her eyebrows at you.

“What are y’all whispering about and why am I not a part of this conversation?” Yoongi butts in and both of you push against his chest.

“It’s nothing Yoongi,” she sends him a sweet smile and you’re sure his eyes melted at the sight, “Come on, we’re gonna go dance,” Mina says grabbing your wrist.

“We are?” You ask.

“Yup, c’mon,” she pulls you away from Yoongi before you can object and you finally feel the effects of the alcohol fogging your brain.

An EDM songs rips through the walls and before you know it, both of you have let loose and released all your stress in the world. All you know is that you needed this. After the two weeks you’ve had—this was only the beginning of your night and it wasn’t ending anytime soon. You and Mina continue to pass the bottle back and forth, sipping on the harsh liquor until half of it is gone. Mina’s hands are on your shoulders as both of you scream the lyrics of the current song into each other’s faces. Although your head spins and each time you jump up and down you stumble, it’s the happiest you’ve felt in a long time.

Between everyone’s yelling of the lyrics and yours, time suddenly feels like it stops when you meet a familiar set of brown eyes across the room. 

The sight of Jungkook makes you head to a full spin but when you realize who is standing beside him—you feel like you could hurl—his ex-girlfriend. What is she doing here?!

You steady yourself onto Mina, breaking Jungkook’s gaze on you before turning to her.

“I’m gonna g-get another drink,” you stumble your sentence and she nods quickly before she leans to you.

“I’m gonna go talk with Hanna, I haven’t seen her in awhile!” She tells you and you give her a thumbs up before walking away from her and Jungkook’s line of sight.

You get back to the kitchen and find that Yoongi hasn’t moved—he’s now talking to a handsome guy who you’ve only ever seen around the frat.

“Y/N!” Yoongi greets you again, “Have you met Taehyung?” He asks.

You shake your head, steadying yourself against the island in the kitchen, “No, hi… I’m Y/N,” you introduce yourself as sober as yourself will allow it.

Taehyung has a boxy smile—it’s cute. “Nice to meet you,” he says.

“I need a drink,” you announce, stepping between the two frat brothers, heading straight to a cooler. Yoongi notices the way you stumble and almost fall onto your face before he’s grabbing your hand.

“Wait, Y/N come on, let’s slow down,” he offers seriously. You jerk your hand away from his.

“No I think I want a drink,” you tell him pointedly before digging around and pulling up another carbonated beverage. You crack the can open and smile to Yoongi, “Cheers.”

You down half the can in one gulp and Yoongi again grabs at your arm to pull the drink away from you. 

“Fuck off Yoongi,” you step away from him and look back at Taehyung, whose eyeing you up and down. Maybe you’ll have this one tonight. Yoongi notices the way you’re practically drooling over Taehyung and he rolls his eyes.

Yoongi says something in Taehyung’s ear before he nods to the older brother, giving you one last glance, and walking away from the two of you. Your mouth falls open.

“Are you fucking kidding me Yoongi? I wanted to talk to him,” you pout and cross your arms.

“I think you wanted to do a little more than talk,” he narrows his gaze, “Come on, finish that drink and be done—“

His sentence breaks when he notices your gaze shift behind of his back, your face falling at whatever you’re staring at. He looks over his shoulder and sees Jungkook walk into the kitchen, seemingly looking for something to drink. Yoongi looks back at you and the way your gaze softens, your lip nearly trembling at the sight—Yoongi begins to piece what he was suspecting together.

He steps close to you, leaving little to no room to breath, “Is it Jungkook?” He asks you. Yoongi hadn’t said anything when you spilled what was on your mind to him—but he had an inkling that your said “guy troubles” were over someone he knew very well.

“What?” Your gaze breaks from Jungkook, your heart settling when you see he’s alone and not with her. He hasn’t spotted you himself yet.

“The guy you told me about… it’s Jungkook isn’t it?” He asks again. Your head is spinning but once you realize what Yoongi is referring to, you swear it sobers you up some.

“How do you know that?” Your face drops, “What did Mina tell you—“

“She didn’t tell me anything,” he cuts you off. “Am I right?”

You look back over at Jungkook who is talking with some other brothers before you begin to nod slowly.

“Yeah, it is,” you say slowly, trying to control your breathing and your emotions all at once. Jungkook was all you wanted and seeing him standing there looking breathtaking as ever—your heart ached for him. “Why is he here with his ex?” You ask him.

Yoongi furrows his eyebrows, “Is he?” He looks behind him once more, but doesn’t see her so he wonder’s if you’re that drunk you’re seeing things.

“I saw them together, like five minutes ago,” you say. “Do you know if they’re here together?” Your voice is desperate and rushed.

He shakes his head slowly, “No I don’t know…”

Your jaw clenches the longer you look at Jungkook and you feel your blood boiling but your heart skipping beats simultaneously.

“I should talk to him,” you announce.

Yoongi’s eyes widen, “Y/N come on,” he laughs, “Are you sure you want to do that?”

You nod your head, “Yeah… yeah I do,” you give him a flat smile and before Yoongi can stop you, you are marching your way over where Jungkook stands with his mates.

As if you’re a magnet, Jungkook’s eyes immediately fall onto your approaching frame and he shifts uncomfortably when he sees the small perk of your boobs from your shirt. You approach the group with a small smile.

“Hey guys,” you say, “Jungkook.”

“Y/N hey,” he says with an uneasy tone, “Guys do you know Y/N?” He asks his friends and you nearly roll your eyes. You needed to speak to him—alone—not with these goons around.

“Jungkook do you have a lighter?” You ask him as nonchalant as you could in your intoxicated state.

“Uh,” he feels around his back pockets, “Yeah, here,” he hands it over to you but you only stare at his hand without taking it.

“Come outside with me?” You give him a weak smile and ignore the pointed stares from the other guys standing around you. Jungkook hesitantly pulls back the lighter before nodding.

“Alright,” he says, “I’ll talk to you guys later,” he dimisses himself and he grabs your hand to pull you outside. Though he doesn’t intertwine your fingers, his touch alone is enough to send flames through your veins.

He leads you onto the all too familiar back balcony where hardly anyone else is outside. Perhaps the chilly, autumn weather being that culprit for that or the party is just too good no one wants to venture elsewhere. Either way, you were glad no one else was around you and Jungkook right now.

You lean against the balcony, pulling out a cigarette from your bra—a clichéd classic. You put the cigarette between your lips before Jungkook pulls it out of your mouth.

“Hey! What the hell—“

“Don’t do that nasty shit,” he scolds before pulling out some of Juul-like device from his front pocket, “Here,” he hands it to you and you gladly take it from him. You inhale the strawberry—you weren’t quite sure due to your drunken state—vapor once, twice, and then a third time before you hand it back to your onlooker.

“Thanks,” you say shooting him a lazy smile. You full take in his appearance as he’s dressed in light denim jeans and a sweatshirt that’s a least a size too big for his frame.

“I didn’t know you were coming tonight,” his voice is low and timid. You sway side to side slightly as you get lost in druken thought.

“Yoongi invited me,” you answer him bluntly. He’s not standing too close to you as he’s got about a foot in between you.

“Oh,” he mutters, his eyes looking away from yours briefly.

“You haven’t texted me you know,” the liquid courage was strong with that one. Jungkook’s face contorts as he obviously wasn’t expecting your statement. He tries to say something but you cut him off. “Have I done something?”

Jungkook notices the way your eyes are glassy and the way your lip quivers when you ask the question. It makes a sharp pain shoot up his chest into his throat. He’s cornered and he has no idea what to say.

“No,” he finally says something after a too long silence, “You haven’t done anything.”

“Why are you here with her?” The question that’s been hanging on your drunken tongue finally comes out.

“We’re not here together,” he says almost defensively.

You narrow your eyes at him, “Then what are you doing Jungkook? You can talk to your ex but not me?”

Jungkook knows you are drunker than you need to be and that this isn’t a conversation that should be held right here, right now. After all, he didn’t know if anyone could be listening in on the conversation.

“Y/N I should you take home, you’re really drunk right—“

“Why so you can fuck me and then leave again?” You spit your words at him. You wanted him to know how awful he made you feel last week. 

“No Y/N—“

“Because I’m sick and tired of that Jungkook,” you pause and there are now tears threatening to spill out of your eyes, “I just thought that n-now it would b-be different,” anger laces through your words and Jungkook can’t ignore it this time. “You’re fucking cum was still inside of me when you left,” you seethe your words and Jungkook flinches some. 

“Please Y/N can I take you home? We shouldn’t do this right here,” he says as a stray tear falls down your cheek. “Fuck no, please don’t cry, it’s okay,” he steps closer to you and pulls you into a hug.

“J-Jungkook,” you mutter into his chest and try to hold in the rest of your tears. As drunk as you were, you knew he was right and that you two shouldn’t be having this conversation right now. Your arms are tight around his torso, “Will you take me home?”

He nods, “Of course.”

Everything going on in Jungkook’s head was raging full speed right now. He’s thinking about you, his now ex-girlfriend, the cheating—it’s all too overwhelming. But with you in his arms threatening to spill tears everywhere, his heart is pulled in your direction and he just wants to get you home safe. Jungkook manages to call an Uber with you hanging off of his arm and he escorts you out front to ignore from going back inside. He knew you would be embarassed being seen like this and thankfully he cared about you and he wasn’t going to let that happen. Your Uber arrives and as soon as you get in the backseat, you rest your head on Jungkook’s shoulder, your eyes closing into a snooze.

_____

You’re stumbling up the stairs to your apartment with Jungkook holding you up with ease. Despite his slim frame, he was all muscle and you were pretty easy to keep up. Your short lived nap in the Uber went by all too quick before Jungkook was pulling you from the car. You felt slightly sick, but you tried your best to hold down whatever was rumbling in your tummy as he opened the door to your apartment.

You nearly tumble over when you begin to walk towards the kitchen, but once again, Jungkook is there to catch you.

“Hey hey,” he pulls you up from your waist, “Be careful okay?” His eyes meet yours and you feel like you could melt into his arms. He rests you against your kitchen counter and as he tries to walk away you pull against him to keep him close to you.

“Kookie,” the nickname drips from your mouth with a pout as you place your hands on his upper chest and shoulders, “I’m really drunk…” you rest your head against his chest.

“You don’t say punkin?” He laughs resting his head on your head but you soon pull away quickly.

“You don’t get to call me that,” you press, pushing him away from you some, “Not after the w-way you’ve t-treated me.”

His face softens at your words and he looks down at the space between you two. He grabs your hands gently before saying, “You need some water… and maybe some food.”

You want to protest but your dry mouth says otherwise, so you nod in response. You lean against the counter to steady yourself as Jungkook steps away to get a glass of water for you. He also takes a look in your cabinets to see if you have any quick food to fix. He finds one cup of instant ramen left in your cabinet and he decides to fix that for you quickly. You watch his every move and despite how drunk you are, you hated being like this, this was not fun. You felt like a child as he took care of you and frankly, you probably didn’t deserve it, but you were inwardly grateful nonetheless.

Jungkook mixes in the flavor packet quickly before stepping back over to you. You smile at the cup in his hand and you’re about to snatch it from him before he pulls it back.

“It’s hot,” he says giving you a watchful eye.

“So am I, we’re a perfect match,” you say seriously and he only rolls his eyes in response. He sets down the cup before turning back to you, placing his hands firmly on your waist. You’re about to ask what he’s doing until he’s hoisting you up to sit on the counter, him standing between your legs. He grabs the ramen once again before he picks up a small amount of the noodles, holding it up towards your mouth. You stare at the curly noodles for a few moments before Jungkook speaks.

“If you’re just gonna stare at them, I’ll eat them,” he says and you shake your head quickly, taking the noodles in your mouth in one gulp. The taste is just what you needed to coat your vodka intruded tongue and stomach. You half moan at the the food when you swallow it and Jungkook watches every move you make. He takes his own bite of the noodles and you nearly scold him but remember he fixed them, so he should have some.

“Thank you,” you tell him in a low voice as you continue to share the noodles. You soon feel the drunkenness slowly move out of your body, more coherent thoughts invading your headspace.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he responds after he finishes chewing. The longing look on your face is obvious and Jungkook curses to himself when he notices it. He looks down at the almost empty cup, “You want the last bite?”

You don’t even have to debate it in your head before you nod quickly with a smile. Jungkook returns a soft smile before feeding you the last of the noodles. Your stomach feels a lot more settled now and you feel like you could have a deep conversation with Jungkook right now, but honestly—you just wanted to go to bed and you wanted him to stay with you.

“I wanna go to bed,”  you mumble playing with the strings of his hoodie aimlessly

“Come on,” he says grabbing ahold of one of your hands to pull you from the counter. Before you two can go anywhere though, you speak again.

“Stay with me tonight,” you plead into his dark eyes. His face is blank and unreadable, but he squeezes your hand tightly.

“Okay.”

Your admiration for Jungkook only heightens when he undresses you carefully and slips over a large t-shirt over your frame and ties your hair up for you since you claimed your arms were too tired to do so. He even brushed your teeth for you and you were sure in this moment, he was angel from heaven on earth. You practically throw yourself on your bed with him following in the sheets after you. In all the time you two had known each other and hooked up—never once had you stayed at each other’s places. With the then ominous threat of his girlfriend, it was impossible, but right now—this was all you needed. You cuddle up to Jungkook’s bare chest, one of his arms snaking around you.

“Goodnight Kook,” you mutter closing your eyes as you listen to the slowed heartbeat in his chest.

“Goodnight punkin,” he breathes out heavily, staring down at your limp frame. He laughs to himself—you hadn’t even heard him as you had passed out that quickly. He watches you for a few more moments, focusing on your breathing as a way for him to relax. He almost couldn’t believe he was actually here right now, spending the night with you—after all this time. But at the end of the day, he couldn’t help but still feel saddened and bothered by his thoughts—he felt like a horrible person and he wasn’t sure he was ever going to get over it.

_____

You woke up early with a groan, a slight hangover pulsing through your head. Jungkook soon followed you in waking up and you nearly forgot that he stayed the night with you. His close proximity from behind of you was unfamiliar but comforting. You had leaned back into his chest as his arms pulled you closer to inhale your scent. It was as if the two of you were making up for lost time of being able to stay with each other because not even 10 minutes after waking up, you found yourself sinking onto his thick and pulsing cock.  

“Mm, fuck,” Jungkook moans as he watches himself disappear inside of you. Your fingernails claw into his shoulders and his hands grip your waist tightly through the t-shirt you were wearing. You couldn’t wait long enough to take the material off but Jungkook liked it as if gave him some leverage.

“Jungkook, oh my god,” you bottom out and it doesn’t take you long to start moving up and down his length. Jungkook’s head falls back against your headboard as he helps you move along him at a steady pace.

He felt so good—better than you even remember. Your insides are sensitive and you feel him everywhere, taking up space you didn’t even know existed. Your moans are loud and your chest is heating up, as is his. Jungkook’s hands crawl beneath the cotton material and grip your hips where they bend against him to shove himself as deep as he possibly could. You slow yourself against him as you lean foreword to rest your forehead against his own. Both of your lips connect at the same time, gentle yet harsh as you cover each other’s whines.

One of Jungkook’s hand trails down to your front to find your clit which he does with ease—he could do it in his sleep as he knew your body like the back of your hand. You break the kiss with a loud groan as he begins to rub you, your toes curling at the sensation.

“Fuck Kookie,” you lean back against his thighs as you begin to pick up your pace, desperate to reach your high.

“Feel good punkin?” He manages to get out as he relentlessly chases his hips with yours, his thumb moving against you the way you like it.

“Y-yes, yes,” you breathe out and you’re almost there, “God, I’m gonna co-come.”

Jungkook doesn’t stop and soon your climax hits you like a wall and it’s a good one to say the least. You clench around his length in pulses which nearly sends himself over the edge and he watches the way your eyes close tightly to relish in the feeling. Without a warning, Jungkook manages to flip you two over, him beginning quick thrusts in and out of you. Your are over sensitive but it feels so good as you wrap your legs around his back to shove him deeper. His head is craned in your neck, his lips and teeth nipping the soft skin, as another hand is placed around your jaw to hold your head down.

“God you’re always so tight,” he says in disbelief, “I fucking love your pussy,” he groans into your ear and with his words you can already feel another orgasm coming soon. “It’s all mine, yeah?” He lifts his head to look into your eyes and you nod quickly.

“Yours,” you choke out as he gives you a particularly hard thrust.

“Fuck I’m gonna come,” he says, “You gonna come with me again punkin?”

You nod quickly, “Yes, please Jungkook.”

With three more thrusts in you and you grinding yourself against his pelvic area, you both reach a climax together. He’s loud and it’s like music to your ears when he stalls inside of you to feel you clamping around him again.

He’s breathing heavy and he looks at you again before kissing you deeply again. You return the kiss instantly, your hands tangling themselves into his hair. You don’t know how much longer the two of you kiss before he’s pulling out and away from you. He flops down beside of you and you don’t ask to cuddle up to him as you turn on your side and throw an arm around him.

Silence engulfs the room—an unspoken tension between the two of you. You stare out you window while Jungkook stares at your ceiling, breaths heavy from both of you. You could fall back to sleep but you would rather not, so you look at him after a few moments. His eyes follow yours but he still doesn’t say anything.

“You okay?” You finally ask him breaking the ice.

“I don’t know,” he’s being honest. He looks at you and sees a future, but he’s not sure he he can get passed his previous mistakes.

You frown at him, “Please just tell me what’s bothering you.”

He closes his eyes briefly before pushing himself up on your bed. You pull your blanket over him as he sits up against the headboard. Your eyes stay focussed on his face as you adjust your body to look towards him. He fumbles with your hands in his lap and he seems like something is agonizing him. You can’t help but get frustrated towards him. He’s never been like this in the few months you’ve known each other. He seems more distressed now than he ever did when he was sneaking behind his girlfriend’s back.

“Why were you with her last night?” The question tumbles from your mouth before you can think about it. As drunk as you were, you vividly remembered seeing the two of them together and the thought made you sick.

“We didn’t come together if that’s what you wanna know,” he speaks timidly.

“That’s not what I asked you,” you say matter of factly. He sighs in deep frustration before tilting his head slightly.

“I—“ he stops for a second, “I just saw her there and I thought I should say something to her,” his excuse is lame but he didn’t even know the exact reason why he went up to his ex.

“Jungkook come on,” you shake your head at him. He narrows his eyes at you and he sighs again. ‘

“Y/N I really don’t need you questioning me about her like this, it’s none of your business,” he drops your hands from his with some force before leaning his head back against the bed frame.

Your mouth slightly drops open, “Are you fucking kidding me Jungkook? Last time I checked this is part of my business. You’ve been fucking me for months behind her back and you just recently broke up with her so I think this is my damn business,” your words are harsh and angry. Perhaps Jungkook’s biggest flaw was his inability to be a little selfless at times and it was instances like this that prove that to you.

“Well what the hell do you want me to say Y/N?” his tone raises slightly.

“I just want you to be honest with me Jungkook!” You raise yours right back, “What the fuck is going on with you? And the what the fuck is going on with us? I’m sick of being treated like an object by you,” you have to steady your breath as you feel your emotions taking over you.  

Jungkook shakes his head at you, “You know you’re not just an object to me, don’t fucking say that,” he spits just as angrily as you, “I don’t even know what’s going on with myself Y/N so how am I supposed to tell you?”

You don’t immediately respond because you’re not sure what to say. You keep pressing him about his feelings but if he’s confused do you really have a right to question him just yet?

“Y/N listen to me,” he grabs your hand reluctantly again, “I care about you so much, but I also still care about her—and I always will. I don’t think I can ever forgive myself for what I did to her, she didn’t deserve what I did…”

You feel like you’re going to get sick as the tears come to your eyes. He notices and wipes them away just as quick as they came.

“I wish I would have never dragged you into my shit, there isn’t enough apologies that I can come up with for you,” his words are sweet and genuine and you feel like you two are finally getting somewhere.

“Jungkook you know I care about you too,” your voice breaks off at the end, “I don’t care about how we met or the situation we were put in—“

“But I do,” he interrupts, “I think about it all the fucking time. What if we met when I didn’t have a girlfriend? What if we met before I even met her? But we didn’t and I ruined my relationship.”

His words are hurtful, but you know it’s the truth so there isn’t much else you can add. He runs a hand through his hair, pulling on his roots a little too hard.

“Why are you doing this?” You ask him trying to ignore his harsh tone. He closes his eyes briefly, as if he’s not sure what to say next, but what he does say causes your heart to drop in the pit of your stomach.

“She found out Y/N,” he finally lets his secret slip past his tongue. “She fucking found out after I broke up with her okay? I’ve never seen someone look more hurt than when she confronted me about and yeah, I feel fucking horrible.”  

“H-how?” You asked shakily.

“She said someone she knew saw us at a party together one night,” he stares at his hands, sounding upset and covered with guilt. Yoongi was right after all. “So sorry if I seem fucking upset,” he’s being sarcastic with his words.

You don’t say anything else. You only stare at his hunched over frame and suddenly, you were torn between two paths. You wished that you had never met Jungkook and created this mess with him. On the other hand, you were glad Jungkook was in your life, no matter the circumstance.

“I’m sorry for raising my voice at you,” he says after your moment of silence.

“Don’t apologize,” you shake your head. “I should be the one apologizing.”

He looks at you once again, “Don’t say that. It’s all my fault.”

You genuinely feel bad for him. While towards the end of his relationship with her, he obviously wasn’t happy and wanted other things, he is still obviously hurt by the situation. You get bold and scoot closer to him, wanting to comfort him as much as possible.

“You know how I feel about you right?” You ask. He nods slowly and you speak again, “I don’t want anything to change between us but Kook, if you need some time and someone to talk to you know I’m here.”

He runs a hand through his hair, “I wasn’t lying when I said all those things to you.” You let your mind drift to his words that have been drilled in your head for months now.

I want to be with you.

You’re everything I’ve wanted.

I promise it’ll be over soon.

Don’t doubt my feelings for you.

“I know that,” you say honestly.

He pauses grabbing your hand gently, “I just don’t think I should jump into this right now when I’m still trying to figure out what to do myself.”

You nod slowly trying to take in and understand his words.

“I get it,” your voice sounds weak and you let go of his hand. “I just don’t want to be dragged around any longer Jungkook…”

He inhales deeply before nodding, “I know… it’s not fair to you I get that,” his tone is rushed, “But I promise I’m gonna try to fix this.”

“What’s there to fix?” You feel angry all of the sudden.

He furrows his eyebrows at you, “Y/N please don’t get mad, I don’t want you angry with me,” he pleads. “I want to be to be with you, I really do, but I also need you to be patient.”

For once, Jungkook is being the sensible one between the two of you. You soon understand you don’t really feel like you have that much of a reason to be angry with him. It was only selfish to do so. After all, hadn’t you been selfish long enough?

“Okay,” you glance at him, “Just please don’t leave me in the dark again.”

He sends you a small smile, pulling you into a deep hug, “I’ll try not to.”

Jungkook was being honest. He knew he had dug himself into a hole that was going to take a long time to crawl out from. He felt absolutely horrible for what he had done to you and his now ex-girlfriend. As holds you close and tight for clarity, he knows what he wants but he isn’t sure if that’s what is best for you. He felt what he did wasn’t acceptable of forgiveness—no matter how much you said you didn’t care and as much as he wanted to make a home out of you, he wasn’t sure he could let himself ruin you any further.