#Repost from a few days ago because the first time this straight up did not show up on peoples dashboards

[serpentface]

Janeys Haidamane and Brakul Red-Dog, war heroes and sworn brothers of over a decade, glaring stiffly at the camera for a face ref image and doing their habitual renewal of their blood oaths.

Janeys is the commander of the Whitehorn cavalry unit, and the middle sibling of odonii priestesses Faiza and Couya Haidamane. Brakul is his second in command, a soldier of central Wardi - Hill Clan ethnicity. Red-Dog is not part of his given name, but a chosen nomme de guerre.

They met as mercenaries in opposing sides of a land conflict in central Wardin as young men, developing admiration for one another on the battlefield and close bond upon the cessation of hostilities. They became sworn brothers shortly after (a legally binding status designating unrelated men as family via blood oath, with associated benefits and responsibilities). Normal oaths of sworn brotherhood are renewed in a yearly ceremony, but these guys renew it once per the full lunar month (which is not considered a normal thing to do AT ALL), to the point of psychosexual religious obsession with maintaining their swapped blood. They are covered in scars from each other's blades.

The fact that their relationship is a) very strange and b) CLEARLY an intimate partnership is known (or at least suspected) by most around them. This sort of relationship between two men of equal age and status is unbecoming and controversial for public figures especially - male homosexuality is seen as emasculating towards a receiving partner, so committed relationships such as this are generally frowned upon. The shame is compounded by the fact that Janeys's children by his wife Hibredes are, VERY clearly, not his own (and may very well be Brakul's).

This makes it a very sensitive topic, and one that most people are sufficiently intimidated into silence over. Janeys has killed multiple people in legally sanctioned duels for his honor in the face of such 'perverted and baseless accusations', and Brakul has beaten the shit out of/straight up murdered people for saying it a little too loud. Faiza, a respected high priestess of the odonii, is also committed to protecting her brother's honor and provides an additional layer of defense that he would not otherwise be privileged to. 

Surprisingly or not given their fun little bloodpact thing, their relationship is strange and really fucked up. They love each other with devotion bordering on madness, but also take most of their frustrations and anxieties and hatred for the world out on each other. Each harbors strong feelings of resentment towards the other for 'making them this way' and their quarrels are legendary.

They bring this energy along on Stavis Amanti's pilgrimage and make things pretty awkward for everyone else involved.

[silentcryracha]

Having their first serious argument/fight with Seungmin pls 🙏🙏🙏

HIII ty for the request hun! ~

Pairing : Seungmin x reader (tried to keep it gn)

Summary : Based on prompt: "Having their first serious argument/fight". Requested by anon.

Word count: 5k (damn bro)

Genre/ Warnings : Other members are mentioned and have girlfriends, some angst, very brief mention of intimacy, use on Yn like twice for ncessity, that's it

A/n : Hello again after like...months. Been having quite a rough time at the start of the year and then I had to work/catch up in uni. Anyways, I opened requests to get me back into writing and thanking you for the support (y'all are almost 1k tf), so feel free to look at the list and send me a prompt + a skz member! You can add a few details, like the vibe or if you specifically prefer gn or f reader.

ps: No beta. Do NOT repost on other socials. Leave feedback if you feel like it, otherwise enjoy! ♡︎

masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

ONE MONTH AGO

For you it was just another shift at the University's library. Countless students coming and going, sometimes a few teachers too. Around the start of June, when the weather became hot and humid, people were coming in sweaty and all red in the face. It made you feel sorry for them, so you decided to place a big icy carafe of water on the reception counter, so that you could offer clients a glass as they put their signature on the register. Many accepted gladly.

One of them was a quite tall guy, around your age, with dark short hair and bangs, and equally dark brown eyes. You've never seen him before, you thought. Not that you've worked there long, anyway. You greeted him with a polite smile, offering him the water as you asked for his signature. He gave you a small nod and a tight lipped smile back as he politely declined.

'Of course, it'll still be here later if you want. Have a nice time.' you said as he gave back the signatures list.

'Thank you.'

And with that he walked a few tables to the back of the room, with the sunlight hitting right on the desk. He settled with all his books and notes, and then immersed himself in studying.

Out of curiosity you looked down, and saw that his name was Kim Seungmin.

-

During the following days Seungmin came in to the library every day. Sometimes for just a couple of hours, then came back again. Other days he just straight up parked himself at the same table from late morning to closing time, which was around nine pm.

It happened a couple of times that he needed some information, so you gave him it and he always responded politely and then came back to his station. Sometimes he even accepted that glass of water.

But nothing out of the ordinary, which is why it definitely took you by surprise when your co-worker came up to you and, whispering, said 'That guy's been checking you out for a while now, should I worry?'

'What? Who?' you replied, genuinely confused. He nonchalantly nudged his head towards the left side of the room. Your gaze followed, falling exactly on the only male guy sitting there.

'Seungmin? No way!' you exclaimed-whispered back. His eyebrows shoot up, a small smile appearing on his face.

'Oh so you know him?'

'No- yes- I mean, not really. He's been coming here often to study. I only know his name because I saw it on the register. And he asked a few directions, that's it.' you shrugged, crossing your arms.

'Well, whatever it is, he has a hundred percent been checking you out. I started to notice like, three days ago. I thought you did too.' he said, as it was the most obvious thing in world. You didn't know what to say for a few seconds, uncertainly sneaking a look to Seungmin.

Your co-worker stifled a laugh and took over what you were doing, giving you a small push.

'He's cute. I would try it out. You know, to see if he's a creep or just embrassingly shy.' he winked.

FOUR WEEKS AGO

Ever since your co-worker implied that Seungmin might have his eye on you, you were never the same. You also started to make a few 'organizing' trips back and forth to the shelves, sneaking looks here and there. He did seem to be actually working, but you also did catch him at least a couple of times staring back.

So you got kind of excited but then went like, 'What if I am being creepy and he just noticed?' so you got insecure. You even exposed your concerns to your friend, but he swore that he started doing it first. And called you both fools.

It was undeniable that ever since you both locked eyes those few times, now your greetings were a bit more awkward. Until finally, after like four days of this push and pull, you decided to start a conversation. Unless he shut you down immediately, which would sting a bit but at least you'd stop deluding yourself.

So around eight forty pm on a Thursday evening, you approached him. He was still sitting at his designated table, a hand in his, now, messy hair and the glasses slipping a bit on his nose as he looked down.

You swallowed, feeling your throat a bit dry, then cleared it. Seungmin looked up, mouth slightly agape. He waited for you to speak, which you didn't realize at first, so you scrambled trying to save yourself.

'Uhm, hi, It's- uh- it's almost nine. We have to close up.' he closed him mouth, at the realization and quickly stood up, making the chair squeak a bit.

He cringed at himself as he gathered his books and papers.

'I'm sorry, I lost track on time, I'll be out in two minutes.' he apologized. You smiled and waved your hand dismissively.

'Don't apologize. You've been working hard. I'm sure that whatever you're studying for, you'll do great.' your words made him slowly stop in his tracks. He looked up at you with a small smile. Grateful, like he secretly desperately needed some encouragement.

'Final exam. I'm having some trouble with a subejct in particular so I'm...working my ass off, I guess' you chuckled, nodding.

'You definitely are. I'd rather make 1000 work shifts than figure out a subject that I don't get.' he smiled at your honesty. He put away the last book in his leather bag.

'I'm sorry I haven't introduced myself yet, I'm Seungmin.' he extended his hand to you. 'I know', you thought.

'I'm Yn.' you smiled, shaking his hand.

You walked him to the exit, but he stopped another second.

'Thanks for the small talk back there, by the way. I don't remember the last time I didn't speak with a fellow panicked student.' he gave you a lopsided smile, a little shy.

'I understand, don't thank me.' , you paused for a second then decided to shoot your shoot.

'If you're gonna hang around tomorrow around lunch break time, I'll bring a coffe for you too on my way back. I noticed you like it.' you planted your nails in the palm of your hand, cringing. 'Shit, did I just expose myself?'

But, surprisingly, he didn't flinch in disgust and run away. Instead, he took his bottom lip between his teeth, trying to suppress a smile, and nodded.

'Yes, I do. Perhaps too much. But thank you, I'll take that offer gladly.' he responded, 'I like it black with two small sugars, see you tomorrow Yn' he waved you goodbye, leaving you standing there with a stupid smile on your face.

THREE WEEKS AGO

The day after, which was a Friday, as you promised, you showed up to work with two iced coffes. As soon as you arrived you quickly fixed yourself up in the bathroom. The heath and humidity messed up your hair and smudged your make up a bit. You made note to be quick since the coffes were fresh and you didn't want them to melt.

After that you came back out to the counter, avoiding the gaze of your other co-worker, older and with whom you were not close at all, and made your way to Seungmin with the drinks. He noticed you coming right away and smiled shyly, standing up from his chair to greet you.

'Hi' you said, smiling back. You handed him the coffe and he bowed his head grateful.

'Hi. Thank you so much, yn'

'You're welcome, enjoy Seungmin' as you were about to walk back to the counter, he stopped you.

'Hey, do you have time to sit down a while?' you looked around, then back to your co-worker, which didn't seem to be paying attention. Then finally you took a quick glance to the clock on your phone. You still had five minutes before the actual end of lunch break.

'Yes, I have a few minutes'. you exchanged a small smile.

--

Those five minutes were over way too fast. You asked Seungmin how it was going, and he responded that it certainly went better than two weeks ago. He said that he didn't have much left, so you congratulated him and once again reassured him that he would do fine. And you genuinely thought that, because as you were able to understand from your talks he is great student.

You talked about your families, where you grew up, shared some school experiences, how you ended up working at the library and how he ended up choosing his major.

You mostly talked during your breaks or sometimes you would arrive a few minutes earlier than your shift, or as he arrived he'd stop at the counter before going to his table.

If you were honest, it had been a pretty natural evolution. Like your crush was. Oh absolutely. You couldn't tell wether Seungmin also shared your feelings, but he certainly seemed to appreciate talking with you. As friends, if anything.

Until he didn't come at the library anymore. On the first day, while you were kinda disappointed, you just thought that he finally took a day off from studying, or maybe he was just busy somewhere else.

On the second day, well you were even more disappointed. You still tried to focus on work and play it off, 'he just came here to study 'we just made small talk...for like a week straight'

It's obvious that it stung. Your mind was going 100 miles a minute, and you felt stupid for it. Stand up, for God's sake. So you at about the third theory your mind made up, you just went 'what will be will be'. And went on with your day.

On the third day, he still didn't show up. The idea that this was just a random pleasant meeting was starting to settle in your mind, so you kept on focusing on living like you did a week prior. Well, not actually, since you have 'known' Seungmin by sight for at least three weeks? But you didn't really speak.

You almost made yourself laugh at how you started to gaslight yourself into thinking that you actually made the conversations up. Would be a pretty funny, sad or creepy script. Depending on point of views.

That is, until five forty pm that same afternoon. You almost dropped the books you were re-organizing on a shelf when you recognized the young man enter the library with the corner of your eye. He was looking around. For you...maybe?

A sudden rush of embarassment shot through you for some reason, making you pretend you didn't see him. Or were (not) secretly waiting for him...

Your eyes went back on the books in front of you, as you resumed your task.

"Yn?" ah, shit.

"Seungmin? Hi!" your head turned towards him, as you tried to not betray yourself with your voice.

"Hi. You busy?" he asked with a smile, then caught himself before you could reply "Ah, sorry. You're working, of course you're busy. Eh"

You couldn't help but chuckle at his bashfulness, waving a hand to dismiss his statement.

"It's a Saturday, we close at six. So I have about...twenty-ish minutes 'til I'm off." you replied, then adding "You need some info?"

He looked lost for a second, like a puppy, but after a couple of seconds it hit him and his shy smile came back.

"Ah no, no. I'm done. I gave the exam so I'm done a hundred percent." you squealed a bit, jokingly.

"Congrats! Did it go well?"

"Yes, it did. Very well. Did not get the highest possible grade, but enough on the higher scale to consider myself satisfied. It was a tough one." his pride showed in his tone, which made you smile.

"It was all thanks to my magic daily coffe, actually" his eyebrow rose and his mouth slightly gaped in shock. Then he laughed.

"I'm sure it was" , his expression turned a bit more serious "So magical, I think you should show me this wondrous place." his tone hinted at something. Something that of course you didn't grasp, because instead of flirting back, you pulled out Google maps.

"Sure, let me just look it up-" his hand came up, almost touching yours holding the phone, but then retracted. Seungmin emitted a small, embarassed, laugh.

"No- I meant- I.." he laughed again, dragging a hand across his face, "I'm not the best at this but, okay. I was asking you out. That's- yeah that's it."

The hand holding your phone dropping to your side slowly as he talked, mainly for shock. Damn, you were hoping for it but that was actually more straightforward than you would've expected from him.

"Oh!" you exclaimed, also laughing. At this point out of nervousness or embarassment, you didn't know.

"Seungmin I'm literally so stupid, I'm sorry. The heat and exhaustion must've took its toll on me" you replied, trying to play it off, then quickly added "Yes, by the way. I would love to spend some time with you."

He bit his lip to stifle a chuckle, then nodded with a smile at your response.

"I'm very glad to hear it", Seungmin responded, "How about tomorrow afternoon? We could meet up here and walk together if it's okay with you."

"Yes, sounds perfect", you smiled shyly.

ONE WEEK AGO

You and Seungmin have been officially seeing each other for two weeks now. Key word officially. If you count the meeting, sneaking looks and finally talking like normal people, that would count as almost a whole month.

Ever since your first, cute, coffe date, you have been seeing frequently. You were often working, while he was now free, so he was the one to come to you most times.

That would happen every day at least once. He'd either come see you for a while, giving you company as you worked. Or he would accompany you hom when your shift ended. Aside from the real dates, of course. You've been out for breakfast, lunch and dinner, you went to the movies, walked in the city park, went for ice cream.

And one day, he surprised you. Last sunday he told you to get ready wearing something comfortable and fresh, and just bring yourself. So cute, you thought. And he did not disappoint!

When he picked you up with his car, he drove you to a park. Not your usual city park, which was still beautiful but quite crowded. He brought you to another park, about five minutes away from the city, that was huge and near a lake.

Some people were there, families and couples or simply loners. But it could not compare in fact of crowding and it also felt quite...untouched. Aside from a few benches and drinking fountains, there was nothing man-made.

With one hand he held one of yours, and with the other he was carrying a large bag, like a gym bag.

"Min, it's so beautiful here" you commented dreamily as you watched the pretty ducks and a couple white swans swimming peacefully in the water.

"One of my friends organizes group studies here sometimes. But it's so romantic, I'm sure Hyunjin took his girlfriend here a few times. He's a romantic." he explained, poking a little fun at his friend, making you chuckle.

"And are you?" he turned to gaze at you.

"What?" he asked softly, finally stopping to a perfect spot. Under a huge willow that provided some shelter from the sun, as well as being a few meters awauy from the water.

"Are you a romantic?" you smiled a bit as you watched him bend down to take out the stuff from the bag. He stifled a smiled, then shook his head.

"Nah, I don't think anyone would describe me as that. Quite the opposite actually." you bent down as well to help him set up the picnic.

"You sure? I mean, you did bring your girlfriend to a surprise picnic in the park with swan view so..." you shrugged, jokingly. He rolled his eyes as he settled on the blanket, holding out a hand for you.

"Maybe it's the girlfriend influence. Put a spell on me." you chuckled, sitting down beside him.

"Maybe." you exchanged a sweet look.

-

That same day, around nine pm when it was finally getting dark, you packed up your stuff and Seungmin brought you back home. He then accompanied you to your doorstep, like a true gentleman.

"Thank you so much for today. It was amazing. You, are amazing." he shook his head gently, looking down as you said it.

"Ah, don't thank me. It was just some sandwiches and some grass." he responded, but then cringed at himself. You couldn't help but give him a light slap on the chest and laugh at that.

"Oh, well. there goes mr. romantic I guess!" he laughed along.

"Told you!"

"Well," you repeated ironically, "Thank you for whatever it was. Food and grass or whatver, 'kay?" he gave you a small smile, nodding.

"Okay, I'll take it. Thank you for spending time with me.", he paused, then shyly looked down and up at your face, "I have one more surprise. If you close your eyes."

Your mouth went slightly agape as you looked back into his sweet dark eyes. You didn't respond, instead just nodded and then closed your eyes as he asked.

After a few seconds you felt him step forward, closer. Then he took one of your hand in his, while placing the other on your cheek. So light you barely felt his skin.

And then, finally, he slowly, but not too much, leaned in and pressed his lips on yours. Again, the touch was so light, like he was afraid to hurt you. So you took matter in your own hands, pressing completely against his lips and bringing your free hand to his cheek as well.

You exchanged a sweet kiss, not longer than a couple of minutes. Lips moving, but not more than that. It was your first ever kiss. It was perfectly fine for that time.

As you parted lips gently, you both found yourselves smiling and blushing so hard. Maybe a bit too much for being twenty years old, but who cares. You were who you were, and things were still quite fresh. Maybe you didn't want to rush it like some others did, and that's okay-

Seungmin made sure that you got in your parent's house okay before driving away with a stupid smile on his face.

--

A couple of days later you meet up at your, now favorite, coffe place to pick up a drink as you took a stroll and figured out what to do. Neither mentioned the kiss yet per se, but you were definitely a bit more giddy around each other. Like you were in your little, cute, pink stained, bubble. Which was broken as you were standing in line.

"Hey, Min!" you both turned to look back, hearing a guy's voice call out for him. It was two young men, surely your age. One had ginger long-ish hair and the other had shoulder lenght blonde hair. As they walked closer, Seungmin released your hand.

You looked up at him, but he seemed to not have noticed. He looked taken aback. The guys exchanged half hugs, while you took a step back.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" Seungmin asked them, both hands suddenly in his jeans' back pockets.

"Well...it's a coffe shop. We're here for coffe. Or iced tea, in my case. You know I don't like that bitter shit." the blonde one replied, a bit sarcastically. The ginger one suddenly seemed to notice you, standing a bit back, waiting patiently for your drink. And maybe something else.

"What about you? You here alone?" he proceeded to ask. The dark haired guy, also seemed to get whiplash, and got a bit confused when he turned to the side and didn't see you there.

He extended his arm, inviting you to step forward.

"Felix, Jeongin, this is yn. Yn, Felix- " he gestured to the blonde guy, "- And Jeongin. My friends." he finished the introduction pointing to the redhead. They both smiled at you politely, offering their hands. You shook them and gave a polite, but unfortunately slightly fake, smile back.

"Nice to meet you." of course you heard about them. Well, Seungmin did name-drop a few people and talked about various different episodes, but didn't quite get into detail about any of them.

"Nice to meet you, too" Jeongin replied, eyes sharp because of his dimply smile.

"Are you the 'someone' Seungmin is seeing, then?" Felix continued, addressing you both as his gaze traveled. He was humorous, but not in a mocking way. Yet, you did not respond. You wanted to see what he was gonna say.

"Yes, she is my girlfriend, you asshole. Like there would be anyone else." you looked down, suddenly feeling his warm palm back in yours. You smiled a bit, relieved. Your mind was already about to start stirring up nonsense.

"Min, you know how this piece of..." Jeongin spared you a quick look before changing his vocabulary.

"This piece of work...is." with that being said he gave his friend a pat on the back and congratulated you both. Just as you were thanking him, the names associated to your orders were called, so Seungmin rushed to the other side of the counter to pick them up.

"Hey, yn, it's actually funny meeting you both here since I wanted to plan a cuples kinda date at the Festival on friday. It's a fair like thing, you know, finger food, rides and shit." Felix explained lazily, "And I wanted to ask Seungmin if you two were up for it. But since you're here, I'm asking you. What do you think, yn?"

"Yeah, why not. You said on friday, right? Perfect."

TODAY, FRIDAY

It was finally fair day. You were nervous, if you had to be honest. Because you'll be meeting new people. Because you'll be meeting people that already know each other. And because you're gonna do it with your boyfriend. Ever since that interaction with Felix and Jeonjin, and Seungmin's reaction...you've been a bit off. Of course you and him kept all your dates and stuff, and there didn't seem to be any difference in him. So maybe, once again, you asked yourself "What if it's me? Am I paranoid? Am I just insecure?". And yeah... you were insecure with yourself, in general.

Whatever it was, you tried to calm yourseld down as much as you could. Blasting music as you picked an outfit, did your hair and make up. You pampered yourself a bit, as they say.

At eight pm sharp Seungmin rang you phone, and you answered with a quick 'be right there' and hung up. You dropped your phone in your perfectly outfit-matched purse. Then took one last look at yourself in the mirror to check for any issues, but there weren't any, so you sighed deeply and walked down the stairs repeating your pep talk to yourself.

Then when you were finally out of the house, Seungmin was waiting outside of the car, leaning on it while looking at his phone.

"Let's go" you said as you walked down to the car, opening the door to the passenger seat. Seungmin quickly joined you inside on driver's seat. He carefully watched around as he got out of his parking spot and then he started driving.

--

The car ride was quite silent. Not necessarily uncomfortably so, just quiet. As soon as you got there Seungmin made sure to get your door for you this time. He opened the car door and then offered you a hand. You accepted it as you got out, fixing your skirt.

You could already hear the music, the loud voices and even the sweet smell of the food from the fair. You must've been quite close.

"C'mon, Felix texted me that they're waiting just at the entrance." He said, and you nodded.

You walked together and we're soon met with the sight of not two, but three couples. In total, from your perspective, a group of six strangers. You took a deep breath.

"Hey, sorry, there was some traffic" Seungmin apologized, exchanging his usual greetings with his friends. One of them, you didn't know.

"Yeah, 'traffic'" one of the girls laughed, clearly implying something more intimate caused the delay. But it was just, in fact, traffic. That made you feel uncomfortable.

Seungmin must've felt the same, so he brushed her off.

"Anyways, this is Yn, my girlfriend. Yn this is my friend Jisung, the other two you have already met. And those are their partners." He introduced you to Jisung and you shook hands with all of them.

After that you all just kind of went around the fair, from sellers stands, to precision games, strength games, a few stops for salty and sweet food. You were having a pretty nice time.

You didn't talk much, but it didn't bother you. You were shy, and you were not part of this already established group. You and Seungmin though...you barely exchanged a word. And it's not like he was ignoring you for someone else either. He was also quite shy and non talkative.

But the thing that actually put a little crack in your heart each time it happened, is how you noticed the other couples being so different from you two.

From the way that they had no issue teasing each other to no end, be handsy and touchy, sharing clothes when someone was cold, sharing food in intimate ways, jumping on each other to play around. They looked really happy.

So you couldn't quite put a finger on what was most upsetting for you at that moment.

Was is the fact that none of those typical couple behaviors were replicated by Seungmin? Was it the fact that seeing people being so close to each other made you feel like you shouldn't be there? Did you feel left out? Were you jealous? Did you want what they had or were they overwhelming you?

Your head was starting to heat up, and just as you were about to say that you needed some 'uncrowded' air, Seungmin spoke first.

"Hey, me and Yn are going for a ride on the ferry wheel. You guys don't wait for us, alright?" Everyone nodded and acknowledged his words. Then they waved to you both.

You shyly waved back as you walked away with your boyfriend.

"Thank you...I need some air" you said, to which he responded by wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

"Me too, let's go relax in the sky a bit, okay?" You didn't answer back as it was a rethorical question.

You spent a couple of minutes in line, until a new round was announced. So Seungmin gave the man a ticket and then helped you step up the platform. The assistant prepared a two seat carriage for you, then helped you secure it and settle in.

"Have a nice time"

--

As soon as you were high on the ferry wheel, the first pause was called. So you were stuck. You were still silent, looking over the view and basically trying to relax.

"So...are you having a nice time?" You scoffed at his question. Seungmin was confused.

"Am I having a nice time? Really?" You retorted, bitterly. He frowned, dead serious.

"Is it such a weird question to ask? Is something wrong?" He kept going. The more he opened his mouth the more annoyed you got. He really didn't realize how he has been treating, or well, not treating you?

"I should probably ask that to you. Is something wrong?", you mocked, " What is it, uh? Are you embarassed of me? Is it because we so painfully and clearly didn't fuck yet? Is that why? "

Seungmin widened his eyes in shock. He doesn't think he has ever heard you talk like this. In fact, you have never even had an argument before. Is that what was happening ?

"Yn, call down. What are you talking about? Why would I be embarrassed of you, are you crazy?" His bitterness was starting to match yours.

"Crazy? Nah I'm quite sure I didn't imagine you not making the slightest effort to make me feel included, or simply cared of all night." Your eyes were starting to well up with tears, so you had to look down as you talked, trying not to full on cry.

"You didn't even try to do a single thing that the other couples did. Didn't offer me your jacket, hell didn't even ask if I was cold in the first place." , you shook your head in disappointment, " Didn't offer nor share food, didn't hold my hand. Kiss my cheek. Kiss me. You didn't even introduce me as you girlfriend. 'Yn'. Who the fuck is even yn, I could well be your damn cousin for all that matters!" when you were finally done getting everything off your chest, you just turned away from him, hiding your trembling lips with your hand.

There were a few minutes of silence after that. The only sounds that you heard were the screams of happy kids on the rides, laughter, general confused conversation and music. But it was quite far. Like you were watching it all unfold from high above. Which you were, but the ferry wheel wasn't that tall. It was mostly about the feeling of alienation.

"I'm sorry Yn." Seungmin's voice startled you a bit. You remained alert but didn't turn around, yet.

"I know you won't believe me, but I didn't even notice. Or, well, I noticed how they were behaving. Of course I did." , he paused and sighed, "I guess that I couldn't make you feel included because I, myself, didn't feel like it.” at that point your turned around, still not looking up. But you wanted him to know that you were listening to him.

"You know, I wasn't kidding when I said that I wasn't a romantic. You are my first girlfriend. Not first crush, but first real girlfriend. I finally thought that I was man enough to be what a girl deserved to have at her side, but now I realize sadly that maybe I am still that cynical, scared to express his feelings, child." He spoke with sadness and disappointment in his voice.

You desperately wanted to hug him and comfort him, but you knew that now it was important for both of you to have this conversation. And for him to open up.

"I noticed you. I noticed how uncomfortable you seemed to be, and that made me even more anxious and sad. But I would've never thought that it was because you thought that I didn't want you here or I was embarrassed of you. I honestly thought the opposite. Maybe because of the confidence and freedom and chemistry they have."

"But we have it too, yn. They are full on fireworks, volcanoes. They shine so bright because they had the time to get there. We are merely a delicate, little candle. Our little light that has yet to grow. And I don't know if maybe you expect more or wanted more from me, but I am happy to go at our place if you are." He sniffled a bit but tried to catch himself quickly, "Please forgive me."

And at that point you couldn't hold it anymore, you cried as you hugged him tight. He hugged you too, caressing your hair with one of his hands to soothe you.

"I'm so sorry I was shit to you" you cried on his chest. His chest trembled a bit, but it wasn't from crying. He was laughing softly.

"No you were right. If I made you feel like shit then it's your right to tell me. I'm sorry." He kissed your head, " I am not embarrassed of you. You are stunning, educated, smart, funny and you're perfect for me. We understand each other, do we not?"

"Yes, we do." You replied, leaning back to look at his face. He still has shiny eyes but he didn't cry. You placed your hand on his cheek, and he nuzzled it gently with his nose.

"Everything that you said it's true. We are still so new. We only had one kiss, for god's sake. And not even with tongue!" He chuckled, squinting his eyes in bashfulness.

"We don't need to conform nor fake for anyone. We have out own pace and that's okay. And no, I was never once disappointed in you Seungmin. I'm so fond of you. I love the way you think, the way you speak, the way you treat me with so much respect. That's why I think tonight was a bit of a whiplash."

"I'm sorry" he repeated, but you shook you head and took both of his cheeks in your hands. His eyes found yours.

"Enough of that. I'm actually really glad that we talked like adults and sorted it out. You agree?" He nodded, a small smile appearing on his lips.

"I'd really like to say something right now, but I want to save it for another occasion." He said, and you nodded as well, understanding what he meant.

"It's okay, I agree"

"I would like to show you my affection in another way, though. If you'll have me." His knuckles caressed your cheek. You smiled, taking the lead.

"I think I know what you mean..." And with that you leaned in and closed the space between your lips.

He smiled in the kiss and cupped your face, starting to move his lips. But this time, from lips, you moved on to tiny licks, soft bites and then a full on make out session.

Both of you were so lost in the moment, probably releasing the tension, that you didn't hear the announcement that the ride was over.

Instead, you got startled by the carriage moving down. So much in fact that you hugged each other tight, then laughed. You were so happy at that moment, you didn't want to break your happy bubble again.

"How about we go home and spend a cozy night in with movies and snacks?" You asked, leaning your head on his shoulder.

"Enough adventures for today?" He joked. You nodded and he chucked, kissing your head.

"Alright. I'm gonna text Jeongin that we're wrapping up. Then we can go home and do again whatever we were doing now." He stated, making you giggle.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Hope you enjoyed! Interact if you did, you'd do wonders for my writer self esteem lol

See you at the next! 🤍

[dancinglikebutterflywings]

Overboard | Lee Felix

Pairing: Lee Felix x Fem!Reader

Request: No

Sypnosis: Reader might have gone a little overboard for her first Valentine's Day with Felix. But Felix loves it.

Warnings: Maybe a little cringy.

Word Count: 562

Stray Kids Masterlist | Tag List Sign-Up | Requesting Guidelines

©️ no one has permission to copy, translate and/or repost my works on here or anywhere else.

Y/N looks around the dining and living area, now wondering if she’s gone a little overboard with the decorating. Red, pink, and white hearts hang on the walls and from the ceiling. Balloons are placed in two corners of the room, candles are lit on the coffee and dining tables, the mantle, the windowsills, flowers and flower petals are everywhere.  

It’s her first Valentine’s Day where she isn’t single. Her last boyfriend had broken up with her a week before Valentine’s Day two years ago after 8 months of dating. All because he didn’t want to celebrate the over commercialized and over capitalized “holiday”. She quickly came to the realization that he was just sad and bitter. Why he was like that? She doesn’t care to know.  

But this year, she has Felix. The sweet ball of sunshine and love. He’d noticed her anxious as the day of love quickly approached. He’d gotten her to confide in him and reassured her, he wasn’t like the others because there was no way he was letting her go. They’ve been together for almost 11 months. Felix knew from the moment he met her that she was the one he would one day marry and start a family with. He couldn’t see himself with anyone else and it's the same for her. She loves him more than she’s ever loved anyone else. So, that fear of him breaking up with her around Valentine’s Day was all too real. Looking around the room, she wondered if it’s still possible for him to change his mind, seeing how embarrassingly cringy her apartment is decorated. 

As she moves to remove some of the decorations, she hears the lock rattling, signaling that it’s too late and that Felix has arrived. 

Her cheeks flush with embarrassment as she turns to face the door, seeing Felix entering her apartment. Putting on a nervous smile, twiddling her thumbs as she greets him. “Hi, baby how was practice?” 

“It was good,” he says, dropping his bag and kicking off his shoes. “Mind if I have a shower? I came straight-” he cuts himself off as he finally notices the apartment is looking like cupid threw up everywhere.

“I think I might have gone a little overboard,” she says sheepishly. No one says anything for few minutes as he takes it all in. 

“What are you talking about?” He asks rhetorically as he looks at her when the surprise starts to wear off. “This is perfect!” he exclaims, his toothy grin on display. “I love it!” 

“You do?” she asks stunned. 

“Of course!” he assures her, moving closer to her and placing his hands on her hips. He doesn’t want to hug her while he’s still sweaty and stinks from dance practice. “You clearly put a lot of time and effort into it. And you did it all for me. I feel a little bad that I wasn’t able to do something like this for you.” 

“Don’t feel bad,” you say relaxing a little more. “Next year, if you're not busy, you’re in charge of Valentine’s Day.” 

“Sounds like a plan,” he smiles and kisses her briefly. “Let me quickly shower and then we can get this night started... Unless you want to join me?” 

“I won’t say no to that.” 

He smiles, taking her hand in his and leads her into the bathroom. 

TAGGED: @staytiny2000 - @dancelikebutterflywings - @kpopmenace143

[the-sinful-voice-witch]

TIME TO LOVE AMY ROSE part 3:

(another repost of a 2022 post because i miss Amy in the trailer...)

Amy Rose movie Theory time

Ok let's start the theory with why would Amy end up in earth in the first place and how? Well in this theory of mine it will be for similar reasons as Tails and knuckles, few points to remember:

1. The chaos emeralds were conveniently spread out in space by Sonic himself and he and shadow conveniently will need it.

2. Lately the most recent version of Amy in both modern and Classic (that is the perfect version), Amy is someone ready to be a hero and take action and I inspired this theory thanks to this panel over here👇👇👇

You will my girl, you will absolutely prove your are a worthy warrior ( words probably said by Knuckles)

3. Unlike Tails who used his gadgets to know about sonic and about knuckles and how trace him to find him and unlike knuckles who always knew about him and hired people to find him... How would Amy know about sonic in the first place and how will she know how to find him? Are we forgetting something canon that Amy is skilled at besides swinging a hammer?👇👇👇

The fortune cards should be used in the movie your honor, literally Amy knows how to use magic with them cause she always nails it!

Know let's mix all the ingredients, i chose to write this as a prologue back story through Amy's pov:

Hi, nice to meet you my name is Amy Rose😊 and I'm on an important mission to help save a different planet! Isn't it exciting?🤩 Oh yeah you're probably wondering how I ended carrying this mission and how i know where I'm going jeje 🤭cof cof well it's all thanks to this girls over here:- Amy's hands starts shining surrounded by some kind of pink electric light and a deck of cards shows up out of nowhere- impressed? 😏Jiji this are fortune cards and I have mastered the ability to read them and they always tell me things i need to know, oh and these aren't the only thing I can summon, take a look at this: -Amy extended her arm straight with her palm open and again her hand is surrounded by pink electric light, this time the light grows bigger forming a shape and in a blink she is holding a giant hammer- cool isn't it? Your head won't get away uncracked if you fight me fellas😤 😏 I can crack mountains

oh you also wonder where did I get all this stuff? Ok I'll tell you, bring the flashback:

Some years ago i was a little girl who ended up all on her own, i used to help in a food place but I wanted to do more than that and I craved to prove my independence and strength! Cause I was seen as a weak lonely nobody little girl so... I started to do boxing 🥊🥊 and trained to be more athletic but it wasn't enough, i love boxing but I don't actually like to fight using my fists... and one day finishing my training next to a nice valley i found something... There were some kind of ruins hidden and I felt something calling me under some rocks and there were them... I found a bag with a full thick deck of cards surrounded with a shiny aura and I was so hypnotized with them, i remembered some tales and legends about some mysterious powers that came from the energy of chaos and I wondered if there were items with chaos powers too... As I was checking one by one the cards i stopped when I saw one with a big beautiful hammer image on it and I realized that what I was lacking for was a personal weapon and then... How do I describe this... Well the card started to shine and there was some pink electricity and there was an explotion boom 💥🤯 and them poof the hammer of the picture fell on my hands!!! 😶 And I felt connected to it like with the cards and few years of training latter here I am! See? I was a bit more Little back them i guess it grew up with me or maybe Is because I'm stronger 💪💪 Anyway I'm on this mission because... It happened again! I found a chaos item! A lot more powerful than my cards! It was an chaos emerald! I learnt about them thank to the cards knowledge because like I said they always tell me what I need to know and in fact when I tripped with the emerald while training the cards reacted to it and gave me my mission:

"A foreign whole planet is in grave danger, a future legendary hedgehog hero needs the emerald to save that world so you must give it to him"

And that's what I'm doing! Traveling between worlds until I find that hedgehog hero! And I hope he lets me help save that world! I'm so exited to finally have a chance to prove myself!!!😖😤

Next post will be my theory about with who will be living Amy Rose at the end of the movie

He is a hedgehog like me... I wonder how he looks... He must be handsome! 🤔😍I hope I can recognize who he is... I don't want to give the emerald to the wrong person and make a fool of myself... Enough Amy! Be more confident 😣😣 ok ok I'm fine, let's do this! 💪😤 Is going to be fine! Uff I can already feel the upcoming danger... How curious... I feel like someone is following me? (🦇) I have to protect the emerald! Let's go! I'll see you later! Hope you liked my story! 😘😘

[redheadbigshoes]

j have this one friend..she was the first person I told abt identifying as genderqueer years ago and for a while she was my best friend and we talked like atkeast an hour a day every day most days (we had online classes together so basically we talked between and after classes always) but we since fell out (just life, business, started doing different programs and her parents — we’re minors — have been very restrictive of her internet acess and she lives a few hours away and I’ve never seen her so interaction has heavily died down) and I know she’s become a lot more Christian — non-denominational — lately and I wanted to tell her I think I’m a lesbian but I don’t know if it’s a good idea. Yesterday she told me she wants ti stop listening to secular music because it’s against her religion and “99% of music nowadays is blasphemous and doesn’t glorify god and music can make you subconsciously feel/think things” (paraphrased but I didn’t change her points at all) and like. I don’t knowwwww. She did clairify to me whether I use my full name or the more masculine shorthand I chose for its androgyny a few years back for the contact name. But that could be politeness. And maybe she doesn’t even think of it as a gender thing, I mean, it’s “do you want me to call you your full name or nickname,” yk? It’s just a shame because one I hate to see her doing down a more extreme religious thing (she hasn’t told me any of her politics have changed ti be clear but it does worry me) meanwhile I went the opposite direction actually and I’m a full atheist (which she doesn’t really know? I never lied but I haven’t told her) and that will be awkward if it ever comes up. she did repost one time a tiktok here it said “I went here and everyone knew you” and it was Gay Town or something which made me…concerned a little just because. It’s a mostly harmless joke but idk. Like. I wouldn’t worry if a gay person reposted it but she’s straight and I do worry just a little for that? It’s such a shame though. She would have been the first person I would have told a few years ago. Do you think I’m right to hesitate here?

You’re absolutely right to hesitate to tell her you’re a lesbian. From what you said I wouldn’t tell her if I were you. If something so trivial like music is enough to bother her because of her religion, I don’t think she would be very accepting of your sexuality.

Christians like her annoy me so much lol I think it’s such a waste of time and it’s a waste of your life the way Christians do (or don’t) do things based on fear of going to hell. I seriously can’t believe someone can be truly happy living a life like this.

From the way you said it got me thinking, she wasn’t like this before, right? It seemed like her parents forced her or smg like that.

[whomeidontknowthem]

Content warning: slavery, implied sexual slavery, implied torture, implied non-con

From the author: THIS STORY IS GOING TO BE REWRITTEN. The details will change. Once I have a new version, I will take this one down and repost it as it's own thing. It's necessary so I can get the story progression and worldbuilding straight, as now I have plans for a series based on these characters, but initially I didn't put much forethought into it.

When six years ago Kris promised she'd never give up until she found Ayzan, she didn't know how it'd be. She thought it'd be simple: she had a trail to follow and people to interrogate, and she'd not give up until she got to the bottom of it all. She did, get to the bottom of the whole slave trade organization. Ayzan was not there.

She followed more trails, then, went through the names in encrypted documents, through sellers and buyers and all the people in between, got into fights that almost killed her and conflicts with higher ups that nearly ended in worse disasters.

Ayzan wasn't there. They weren't anywhere. No matter how she tried, what lead she followed, how many times she rode across the country and visited places where only a quick smile and smart words separated her from being found at the bottom of the nearest lake, they were not there.

Ayzan had simply disappeared. Kris was told that they had probably died and that she should give up. Should accept it. Move on and live her life, not haunted by the echoes of her past.

Deep in the dark of the night, these words rang in her head and she gritted her teeth against the desperation and grief.

She dreamed of them often.

She saw them:

As the teen barely older than her, when Ayzan cheated her in a game for all the money she had left, and then bought her a dinner and showed how to move someone's attention away until their pouch found a new home in her hands.

As a friend that held her during the long nights after her mother's death and made her laugh through tears until she felt alive again.

As a lover with a tongue made of silver, who teased and teased and teased until she learned how to answer and then it was Ayzan's turn to hide their red face behind their hands.

As a figure larger than life and the closest family she ever had.

At the end of every dream, they smiled, their eyes turning into half-moon slits of pure giddiness. And then they turned and walked away, and no matter how she tried to run and reach out, she could never stop them.

So, it was easy to hold on to the hope the first few weeks. It was easy to cling to the determination as the weeks turned into months that threatened to turn into years. When years passed by and the features of their face in her dreams grew more and more blurry, she wondered if the others had been right. If she was supposed to move on.

Which was why Kris wasn’t searching for them that day. Walking through the underbelly of a city as if it was her second home, among the dangerous and the poor, the unlucky and the cruel, she didn’t think about Ayzan, focused on the mission at hand. She was far from the lands she called home, on the southern peninsular with different customs, traditions and laws. Slavery wasn’t frowned upon here. She felt her skin crawl and kept her mouth shut because she was alone. In places like this, it was all too easy to disappear and never be found if you’re not careful.

Kris meant to walk past a makeshift slave trading ground. She did it more and more often lately, sparing a glance or two to the poor dirty things huddled together in front of a small scene, because stopping and truly looking felt like flaying herself row only to be met with unavoidable disappointment. Hope hurt, these days. And there didn’t seem to be much reason to hold on to it anymore, — Kris started to accept.

Nearly accepted, before her eyes locked with the familiar pale blue. Before their eyes blinked, widened, suddenly focusing, as she stopped dead in her tracks. Before she looked at the dirty face with unfamiliar scars and greasy short hair that once fell on the shoulders in radiant curls, and her whole being froze, overwhelmed with the sense of recognition.

Someone bumped into her and she muttered a quick apology and ignored the obscene yelling, and with a long look sweeping across the market, noting the other slaves and the seller and the few people walking by, ducked into the nearest side street to wait for her hands to stop shaking.

Ayzan was right there.

Thoughts ran through Kris’ mind in a hurricane, leaving a few facts in their wake:

She could not confront the slave seller. Back in her kingdom, sure, she could afford to deal with whatever mess it would cause, but not here. She couldn’t get into a fight directly, nor did she know enough to go through the indirect means.

Besides. Kris could not tolerate the idea of leaving the market when Ayzan was right there, so close. Closer than ever in these six years. She couldn’t leave and hope she’d find them again. She needed to get them now, and leave with them.

It meant playing by the disgusting rules of this place.

She opened her purse, counted the money. Cursed. Took a deep breath. She’d accomplished more with less. Failure was not an option.

Kris returned to the market from another street and strolled by, her gaze lazily moving from one face to the other and never stopping at Ayzan for longer than a second. Her clothes made her look like a wealthy foreigner, she knew and made sure her face reflected the bored expression she often saw on an experienced buyer. It didn’t take long for the merchant to come to her.

“Have something caught your eyes, lady…” he drifted off.

She inclined her head. “Teyol,” a fake surname naturally rolled off her tongue, made more realistic with the skilled northern accent. The merchant immediately answered with a wide smile.

“Come, lady Teyol,” he invited. “I have many remarkable items here. Something for anyone’s taste! Has any of them caught your eyes?”

Kris let him lead her closer to the slaves, all sitting right in the dirt, all tied to a long railing by short leashes connected to rough leather collars. Hardly the astounding selection the merchant was trying to sell it as. Ayzan was among them, sitting to the side, and Kris felt their stare on her face as she refused to look in their direction more than necessary. She inspected other slaves instead, letting the merchant pitch his property and feigning interest. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw Ayzan sink back in line as the merchant pushed them back in passing. They didn’t do much of anything to make her turn attention to them, and Kris was infinitely grateful. It would go so much easier if the merchant didn’t suspect any connection between the two of them.

After looking at two slaves and nodding along to the merchant’s tales, Kris finally decided it was enough. “What about that one?” she asked and pointed at Ayzan, who flinched from the sudden attention of the both of them. “They seem pretty.”

“Ah, you have a great taste, lady! They’re one of the better ones,” the merchant hurried to assure her. “Years of training. Very obedient, and can do many things, too, outside and inside the bedroom, if you know what I mean.”

He flashed a grin, untied the leash and tugged at it, making Ayzan follow on their knees. They didn’t try to use arms to help them. Ayzan stopped before her, kneeling and keeping their head low, the looks they’d been giving her this whole time disappearing in an instant. She could see their hands, one curled on their lap, shaking slightly.

It took all her willpower to not reach out to hug them then and there.

Instead Kris let her gaze slip from their form, rising to meet the merchant’s eyes with a pleasant smile. “Where were they trained, then?”

“In Ashtar,” he answered instantly and proudly. Kris nodded in understanding and approval as her stomach sunk. Ashtar. She met enough people who’d been through that place to know it was nothing short of awful. She knew also that a slave from Ashtar wouldn’t end up in a place like this for no reason. There was something else there, something that’d lowered Ayzan’s price so much they ended up covered in dirt and rags, sold on the street among other cheap slaves. And these were cheap, Kris could see, no matter what the merchant was trying to tell her. She’d been to enough auctions to know.

“Ashtar,” Kris felt her lips move when the silence went on for two long. She was distantly impressed that her voice sounded calm as it did, tinted with curiosity and doubt. “They have an awful lot of scars for someone from there.”

Slowly, she reached out and put a hand in their hair — so, so short, when she knew they always preferred to let it grow out, — coaxing them to look up. There was a moment of resistance as they tried to flinch away, sink even more onto themself. The merchant noticed immediately and tugged their hair with no hesitation.

There was a quiet, sharp exhale, and then Kris could finally see their face. Her blood turned cold from just one look.

There were scars there, those she’d noticed even from afar: a wide one crossing their cheek, an old one through their brow, leaving pale skin where once was hair. This close, she could see more: a thin line starting from under their ear and going down to their neck. Many small but uneven, angry red dots around their lips, in an uneven pattern Kris took long seconds to recognize as what it was: the marks left behind from the thread that once held their mouth shut.

Never, in all her years, had Kris wanted to kill so much as at that moment.

And then, there were their eyes. She looked into them, finally, and had to fight to keep her features relaxed. There was so much in those blue eyes, so much she never wanted to see there: hurt and barely contained fear, and confusion, and, more than anything else, desperate, painful kind of hope. They didn’t say anything, didn’t even try to, only looked, until a smack came from the merchant, forcing their gaze down.

Kris silently let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding, before tuning in the merchant’s words.

“…long time. They were a feisty one once, you see, with a spirit. All the better when they’re finally broken, isn’t it?” he smiled as if it was a joke. She laughed and nodded in agreement. “I can lower the price for the scars, but believe me, they’re worth every coin you pay for them.”

“And how much is the price?” Kris asked. The merchant smiled widely.

And said, “two thousands.”

It took her a moment to convert the sum to the currency she was more familiar with. She didn’t need to fake the indignant snort. “That much?”

Kris knew the prices, that was the thing. She saw so many of such places, so many of such people putting a tag on a person’s worth, and she learned the numbers. Slaves from Ashtar meant to be pets, toys, pretty playthings for their owners, trained to be obedient and appealing in every way the owner wanted. They were meant to be kept healthy and beautiful, and any permanent mark immediately dropped their price.

Two thousands was too much. She’d give it barely seven hundred, maybe eleven if she was generous.

She felt bile rise up in her throat as she realized she was thinking about Ayzan in these terms. She felt the shudder go through their body as her hand stayed in their hair. Kris hoped the gentle touch felt reassuring.

“They’re the best you can find around these parts,” the merchant answered quickly.

“A pleasure slave, scarred like that?” she replied coldly. “Hardly.”

“A highly trained slave with just a few unfortunate but faded marks. You said it yourself, lady Teyol, they’re pretty. You won’t have to work hard to forget the scars are there at all.”

“Well, I don’t think I can just ignore them, they’re quite unsightly, in my opinion,” Kris argued. “You said you’d lower the price for them.”

“And I already have,” the merchant assured her. “You see, ordinarily I’d ask two and a half, even three thousands for them!..”

“Don’t try to cheat me,” Kris cut him off. She crossed her arms, letting go of Ayzan’s hair with the last gentle stroke, and added, softening her voice. “You are a smart man, lord…”

“Just Relo, lady Teyol.”

“Relo. You must know when what you’re asking for is beyond any limit.”

“Forgive me, but I don’t think it is,” the merchant continued stubbornly. “They’re the best you can find around these parts. Try finding other shops or even going to the auctions, see for yourself. Ashtar slaves are hard to come by.”

“Perhaps they’re hard to come by because there’s no need for them here. Who else would you sell them to? The mines? Even with all their… training, you’d be happy to receive even a few hundred.”

“I’m sure there’ll be those who understand the value of what I’m offering,” Relo countered.

Kris saw as his pose changed, closed off. She spoke quieter, friendlier once again. “I must say I am one of those people. An Ashtar slave is something I’d gladly buy, but not with this price; like this, I’d be better off making the trip myself. It wouldn’t be much more costly, and I’d surely find one there that isn’t so… defective.”

Ayzan was quiet before the two of them, hunched onto themself now that nothing held their head up. Kris sneaked a glance at them and saw the white of their knuckles as their fingers dug into their thighs. Ayzan made themself so easy to ignore with how quiet and motionless they were, and Kris hated herself for talking over them like this.

“Perhaps, I could go a bit lower without it being a loss,” after a few seconds of consideration, the merchant relented. “Eighteen hundred, how does that sound?”

Kris laughed, “I was thinking more in terms of five or maybe eight hundred,” and quickly raised her hand when Relo opened his mouth to protest. “But I apologize, I understand, it’s not an adequate compensation for your efforts. The transportation itself must have cost quite a bit. Perhaps, we could settle on a thousand?” she flashed a persuasive smile.

The merchant answered to her smile with his, but then shook his head. “I’m afraid it is so low I’d have to try my luck somewhere else. Seventeen hundred is the lowest I can go.”

It was better, closer to the real price. She only had fourteen hundred in her purse. She needed to go lower.

She turned her attention to Ayzan once more, looking them up and down in search of something to use as a leverage. They were skinny, pale, but this was normal for a slave, even desirable in the eyes of some. Easier to control, when they’re weak from hunger. Ayzan didn’t look like they’d starve at any moment, and that meant she couldn’t use it as an argument. Kris needed something else, and fast.

“It is a serious investment, you understand,” she said to the merchant who nodded. “I don’t want to disrespect you in any way, Relo, but, you understand, a slave bought for… the reasons… that I’m considering, needs to be in an appealing form everywhere. With such scars on their face, who knows what can be hidden underneath their clothes? Please don’t take it as a sign of distrust…”

“No-no, lady, I understand,” Relo reassured her. “It’s only natural to want to make sure.” He tugged the leash and then once again when Ayzan hesitated, frozen in place. Relo frowned and shot an apologetic look to Kris, which she waved off with a smile. “Get up and strip for the lady,” the merchant spat, “you know what’s going to happen otherwise.”

Finally, Ayzan moved, slowly rising to their feet but never looking up. They tugged the coarse, badly cut in shape fabric they had for a shirt up with their left hand, Relo helping them get it off the leash. Silently, Kris begged for forgiveness as they pulled their pants down with one hand. When she caught a sight of their face, it was uncomfortably, eerily empty.

Finished, they stood before her and the merchant, not making a single move to cover their body. They trembled slightly, and Kris wasn’t sure if it was from cold.

There were scars on their body, but not as many as she feared. The one starting below their ear continued on to their chest. On the opposite side, there were lines starting from under their armpit and going down, where Kris knew very well the skin was more sensitive than in most other parts of the body. Even the shallow cuts must’ve hurt as hell. A few were on the legs, but they looked more accidental and less like deliberate torture. Their right hand was half covered in pink scar tissue, their little finger missing in its entirety. When Relo told Ayzan to turn around and they obeyed, Kris could see the long, numerous lines left by lashes, layered on top of each other so that there was barely any healthy skin left.

She stepped forward, raising a hand, and barely kept her face neutral when Ayzan tried to flinch from her touch. “Stand still,” the merchant grumbled and tugged the leash. He looked apologetic once more, “You know how some of them are, when with new people.”

“I understand,” she brushed it off once again. It was a good excuse to use with something else, but it wouldn’t get her much of an advantage by itself. Instead, she ran her fingers down Ayzan’s body as they kept horribly still except for rapid, panicked breaths. She prayed for forgiveness once more, taking their left hand and rotating it around.

Then, she moved to the right hand. The moment she raised it, slightly rotating the wrist, a shudder when through Ayzan’s whole body and a quiet, pained whimper escaped their tightly pressed lips.

Kris immediately let go of their hand and turned to Relo, who looked incredibly upset. “You must be kidding me,” she said, letting some of her fury reflect in her tone. The merchant frowned and stepped closer.

“Must’ve pulled something,” he found an excuse and shot a glance to Ayzan before grabbing their hand and forcefully rotating the whole way. Ayzan tried hard to stay silent. Kris saw how their breath hitched, their eyes fluttering shut, and stopped the merchant’s attempts to pretend it was nothing.

“Do you want to hurt them more,” she snapped. “Because if you do, I won’t be buying them for sure.”

That made Relo hesitate and ultimately let go of Ayzan’s hand. It fell limply down their side and they took in a deep, rough breath, their eyes still tightly closed.

“I apologize, lady Teyol, there wasn’t anything like this yesterday,” the merchant explained, and Kris felt too tired to guess if he was lying or somehow managed to genuinely overlook such a problem. “I’m sure it’ll heal in no time, but, because of the circumstances, I will cut down some more. Sixteen hundred.”

“Thirteen,” Kris replied. “I can’t know if the injury is permanent or will heal, but it’ll require attention and money. I’ll have to find a healer to look at them! Not only at the arm, too, who knows what else is wrong!” she made sure it didn’t sound like a threat, but was sure the merchant did hear it as such. She didn’t know what else she’d find if she continued on with the inspection. Whatever it was, it was in Relo’s interest to stop from trying.

“Fifteen,” Relo returned an offer with a wince. “You must understand, going any lower would put me at a loss…”

“Fourteen. They aren’t even as obedient as you promised, hesitating like this. Can I even trust you that they’re from Ashtar? Or is it something you’ve lied about just like you neglected to mention that they can’t move their right arm?”

The merchant winced again. He must know, Kris thought, that with such an injury he had no luck of selling them to anyone. Even the mines would refuse a slave that couldn’t use one hand. Now that it was noticed, he couldn’t afford to cling to the bigger price. What she was offering was already generous. He must know that. He must accept.

Relo chews his lips, deep in thought.

Then sighed.

“Fourteen hundred it is, then. Deal.” She shook his hand and gave nearly all the money she had to him. After being paid, Relo smiled with much more sincerity. Kris found it hard to much his enthusiasm.

She helped Ayzan dress up, mindful of their arm, and took the leash from the joyful merchant. Just a few minutes, until they got to the room in the closest inn, she promised herself.

Ayzan didn’t make a single attempt to look up at her, following her steps as a second shadow, quiet and gloomy as one.

In the inn, she cut the small talk with the innkeeper short, getting a key for a room with one bed (it would be suspicious if a slave was given their own bed; she’d sleep on the floor if needed) and swiftly making her way upstairs. She let them inside the room first and shut the door after herself, immediately slumping before it.

“Holy fuck,” she breathed and then muttered a whole string of curses as the adrenaline wore off, leaving her fingers shaking. She did it. She’d got them. She’d got them.

She took half a minute to herself, staring at her hands and willing her emotions back under control. Then she looked up.

Ayzan stood where she left them, in the middle of the room, their head hanging low and left fist tightly clenched. They were so still she couldn’t even notice if they were breathing. They didn’t move to look at her, not even once.

“Hey,” she whispered and stepped closer. They tensed but didn’t back away. She worked on removing the collar, letting it fall down once she was done. “Ayzan, will you look at me? Dear?” gently, oh so gently she touched their chin and guided it up. They used to be higher than her. Slouched as they were now, she had to look down to meet their eyes.

Back in the market, there was fear there, and she’d thought it was the worst. Now, she searched and searched and could only find — something like defeat. Like resignation. They looked at her with pale blue eyes that always used to crinkle in a smile, and this time there was nothing.

Kris was the one who let out a shaking breath and had to fight to hold back tears. “I’m sorry,” she said, softly as she could, when her voice was back under her control. When she let her hand fall, Ayzan’s head immediately hang low, too. “I didn’t mean any of what I said to that bastard. I just— you're worth so much, but if I didn’t make him think I didn’t care, I— I couldn’t let let him take you away! I’m so so sorry you had to hear it. You had to— I’m so sorry. None, none of that is true.”

Ayzan’s chest slowly rose in a deeper breath than they’d taken before. If Kris wasn’t staring at their features so intently, she’d miss the way their lips twitched, just a bit.

“Love,” she begged. “Ayzan. Say something, please?”

Their lips twitched again, opened just a bit. They didn’t look Kris in the eyes, but their gaze moved just a bit closer. Slowly, quietly, they breathed out in a raspy voice, “Kris?” and then fell silent again.

“Yes. Yes, Ayzan, it’s me. I’m here, I’ve— I’ve got you. I won’t let anyone hurt you anymore, okay? I’ve got you. I’ve got you,” she repeated and reached out to clench their good hand in hers. Ayzan didn’t move, staring at their hands as if unable to see it. “I’ve got you,” she repeated again as her heart bled from the distant, uncomprehending look on their face.

After a long stretch of silence, Ayzan’s lips moved again. “What do you want me for?”

It felt like a punch. Like somebody made a hole through her chest and squeezed her heart until it turned into burning mash, coating her insides with pain. She took a breath that sounded like a sob.

“Nothing. I— nothing like that. I needed him to believe that I did, but I wouldn’t— I didn’t—“ she tried to find words to explain and failed. Ayzan stood before her, terribly still, terribly distant, terribly tense. As if they weren’t safe. As if they expected her to hurt them.

She tried again, “You’re not here as my property. I am very, very happy to see you alive. I’ve been searching for you,” she paused as her breath hitched. She hadn’t been searching for them this time, had she? She would walk right past them, not pausing to even find out that they were so close. She’d nearly given up. She forced the thoughts down, focusing on here and now and the fact that she’d found them. “I want you to be free, and safe, and happy. This is all.” She repeated, helplessly, when they didn’t move, “this is all.”

Kris watched their face as they breathed. There was no reaction to see if they understood, if they even heard her. Ayzan’s face used to be so open, so emotive, all their feelings written loud and clear all over it, be it a bright smile or childish pouting. She rarely remembered them genuinely upset, but even that was better than the careful, nearly complete blankness. As if they weren’t here at all.

She fought to blink back tears. “May I hug you?”

Their brows twitched, barely perceptible. Their eyes moved to the side. They didn’t answer.

She didn’t reach out to touch them.

She took a deep breath instead, trying to ground herself. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “I know it’s sudden and hard. We have time now, okay? You have time. You’re safe, and here, and—“ another deep, deep breath. “You’re safe. I promise you. I won’t ever let you be hurt again. I promise.”

Ayzen didn’t answer, but Kris saw as their breaths grew deeper, slower, calmer. It was okay. They were here, and they had all the time in the world.

Whump prompt XVIII

Caretaker is trying to buy whumpee to free them.

Only they cannot afford the asking price, so they're left haggling down whumpee's value, picking out every conceivable flaw and arguing with the seller that whumpee really isn't worth that - all fully within earshot of whumpee.

[bloatedandalone04]

Date Night

➪the one where jake intentionally ruins your date just so he can have one with you instead.

Warnings: smut, fluff, angst, soft dom jake, unprotected sex, public sex, size difference/kink idk, pining, swearing, alcohol consumption, jealousy

Word Count: 4.4k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

“Hey,” was the first thing you said to Jake when you entered the Hard Deck at nine twenty eight on a Thursday night. The sharpness in your voice wasn’t new, he’s heard it many times now, but the calmness was.

Jake had his back to you and looked up at Phoenix, who just raised one of her brows at him as she leaned down to take her shot at the pool table. With a small smirk, Jake stood up straight and turned to face you, holding onto his pool cue with both hands.  “Hey back, princess,”

Your glare intensified as you locked your jaw. “What the hell is the matter with you?” You asked and he knew exactly why you looked beyond pissed right now. He wanted to blame himself, he really did, but it was all Phoenix’s fault. 

She decided to set up a date for you with her friend from the academy, even after Jake flat out told her to forget about the idea. The date was scheduled for tonight, but he knew it wasn’t going to happen.

Why, exactly? 

Well, because Jake met up with this guy himself a few days ago and set him straight, that’s why. He assumed the guy broke all contact with you without letting you know that the date was no longer happening, if the angry look on your face was anything to go by. 

“What?” He asked innocently but his smirk gave away his true intentions. 

You took a step towards him, “Do you have any idea how embarrassing it was to show up to a date only to find out the guy is no longer interested and isn’t coming? I was there for almost an hour,” 

Jake shrugged, glancing over at Phoenix with a grin. “Nope, because I don’t swing that way,”

Your eyes narrowed even more and you looked like you were about five seconds away from going off on him. And he knew he would love every second of it. “Do you want me to be embarrassed? Is that it?”

Jake laughed quietly, looking down at you. The height difference between the two of you was more obvious than ever now, and it just made him want you more. “What are you talking about?”

“You somehow knew I was going on a date and you stepped in and fucked it up,” you accused, crossing your arms. “Why?”

Jake’s smirk faded and he looked down at you as he reached a hand out and gently grabbed your hip. “Because I think you’re sexy as hell and haven’t been treated right by any man you’ve ever been with,”

You open your mouth to fire something back but promptly close it after his words sink in, your eyes widening a bit. “You…what?”

He keeps his eyes locked on yours as he moves closer to you. “You heard me,” he rasped. “I can treat you right, the way you deserve.” 

You shake your head but don’t move away from him. “Yeah, right,” you scoff. “You just wanted to embarrass me publicly and finally win this stupid feud between us.”

Jake wrapped his arm around you, pulling your body up against his. “Baby, I won that a long time ago,” he whispered, thinking he had you right where he wanted you. 

He did not. “Yeah, you did,” you whisper back, stepping away from him but keeping your eyes locked on his as you call out, “Hey, Rooster?”

Bradley, who had been watching the two of you from his place on a nearby stool, smirked as he answered, “Yeah?” 

Jake watched with annoyed eyes as you turned to the other aviator and smiled. “Dance with me? I didn’t get all dressed up for nothing,”

Bradley’s smirk widened before he finished his beer and set it down. He stood up straight and held his hand out to you, “With pleasure, honey,”

Your smile grew as you took his hand, then you looked back at Jake with a glare. Jake glared back and tightened his grip on the cue as he watched Bradley lead you over to the jukebox. Then he watched as the bird man wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you up against his chest. 

Twenty minutes later and Jake was the one who is pissed now. He finished his own beer and let Phoenix win the game of pool just so she could go off and leave him alone. You and Bradley hadn’t separated once, and Jake has had enough. 

He set the pool cue down before striding over to you, placing one hand on your waist while his other gripped Rooster’s shoulder. His expression was stoic as he asked, “Mind if I cut in?”

Bradley looked down at you with a smirk before stepping away. “No problem, Hangman,” 

As he walked away, Jake pulled you close to him as you rolled your eyes and placed your hands on his shoulders. “I was having fun,” you muttered, looking away. 

Jake pulled you a little closer, wrapping one arm around your middle while his other trails up and grips your chin, turning your head to face him. “Look at me, baby,”

“Don’t call me that,” you muttered, staring up at him with guarded eyes. 

“Why not, princess?” He asked, watching your eyes narrow at the other pet name. “Don’t like it?”

You huffed, “No. I’m not your baby or your princess,” 

Jake’s hands run up your sides as he gently sways you to the slower song that is now playing. “What if I want you to be?”

Your eyes met his again as you went tense in his arms. “You don’t,” you say quietly. “You just want me to be the person you can boss around.”

Jake’s hands paused on your waist as he muttered, “Then why do I want to pin you against the nearest wall and kiss you senseless right now?”

Your breath hitched as you grabbed onto his shirt. “Jake,”

He smiled down at you, moving one of his thighs so it’s between both of yours. “Do you like this?” He asked and you looked away and bit down onto your lip. “Answer me, princess. Do you like it?”

You let out a sound of annoyance before answering, “Take a wild guess, Seresin,” 

Jake tightens his grip on your waist as he pushes his leg more firmly between yours. “I think you do,” he said. “I also think you don’t want to admit it.”

You let out a quiet whimper before closing your eyes. “I can’t. I can’t do this,”

“Why not?” He asked in a soft tone, trying to get you to meet his gaze but you weren’t letting up. 

“Because…this is exactly what you wanted,” you mumbled, bunching up the fabric of his uniform shirt in your hands. “You made that other guy ditch me just so you could sleep with me, didn’t you?”

Jake drops the cockiness and smugness from his voice and stills both your bodies. “You really think that’s the reason I did it?”

He didn’t even care that he had now admitted to ruining your date with that guy who wasn’t worth your time. You thought he did it just so he could sleep with you, when in reality he did it so he could be with you. “Yes, I do,” 

“That’s not why,” he muttered, “Not even close.”

“Then why?” You asked desperately, looking up at him with tired eyes. 

Jake reached a hand up and caressed the side of your face. “You have the worst luck with men, princess,” he murmured. 

“Apparently I do,” you whispered, looking away from him. “I think I’ll just go home. I should’ve never come out tonight.”

“Stay,” he nearly begged. “Stay with me, drink with me and then I’ll take you home.”

“Why do you want me to drink, Hangman?” You asked and he hated the sound of his call sign coming from your lips. He just wanted to be Jake to you, and that’s it. 

“Because, princess, you had a shitty night and it was my fault. Let me try to make it better,” he offered, “Just a few drinks, then I’ll take you home.”

You looked at him skeptically before grunting, “Fine,”

Jake nods and pulls you over with him to the bar. “Do you want tequila or beer?”

“Whatever’s the strongest,”

“So tequila then?”

“Definitely,”

He grinned and kicked a stool out for you to sit. “Alright, princess. Sit your pretty ass down while I order us shots,”

You scoff and brace your elbow on your knee, resting your chin on your hand. You looked fucking adorable like that and Jake was praying to anyone who might be listening that he doesn’t fuck this up. 

All he wanted since the night he met you was just a chance, and you never gave him one. Sure, he was a prick with a really bad attitude sometimes, but you weren’t that far off yourself. You had a bite to you, as well, and it only made him more attracted to you. 

When Penny gave him the shots, he turned to look at you. “Ready?”

“Sure,”

You take one of the small glasses from him and raise your brow, clearly wanting him to go first, but he just smirked. “Drink up, princess,”

You huffed before taking the shot, your brows scrunching up as you set it down. “Fuck,” 

“Good girl,” he grinned and you looked over at him quickly. 

“Do not call me that,” you say with wide eyes.

He downed his shot before turning to you. “Why not?”

“Because it makes it sound like we’re together or something,” you mumble, watching as he sat down on the stool next to you. 

Jake lowers his voice a bit as he says, “What if I want us to be?”

“You don’t,” you say quickly, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“I don’t?” He laughed, leaning back. He found it funny that you thought he didn’t want to be with you when it was all he wanted. “I think I do. I think I really want us to be together.”

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you look back over at him. “Why?”

“Because I’ve wanted you ever since we first met,” he answered simply, watching as you slowly shook your head. 

“That’s not true,” you mumble. “We couldn’t stand each other when we first met.”

Jake pressed his lips together and nodded. “You’re right,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “You got under my skin so much, I always wanted to take you into my arms and shut you up with my mouth.”

Your eyes widened a bit as you brushed your leg against his. “Jake,”

He could feel the heat radiating off you and it only made him want you even more. “It’s true, baby,” he rasped, leaning towards you. “I’ve always wanted to be the one to straighten out that sexy fuckin’ attitude of yours.”

Your gaze softened a bit as you shrugged. “That one might be impossible to do,” 

“Well, you know I don’t shy away from a challenge,” he replied. “Admit something for me.”

You tilt your head as he reaches out and grabs your hip. “What?” 

“Admit that you want me just as badly as I want you, princess,” he said, his voice deep as his green eyes stared into yours. “Admit it. Admit that you’ve wanted me since the beginning.”

You part your lips as you reach up and grab onto his shirt. “Jake,” you started in a quiet voice. “I…I want you.”

Jake felt his heart leap at your words, because he fucking knew he wasn’t the only one feeling things between you. He knew he wasn’t the only one losing his damn mind. “I’ve been waiting to hear you say that for so long,” he groans, reaching his other hand out and grabbing your thigh. 

Your own hand reaches up and your fingers tangle in his hair. “I want you,” you say again, “Badly.”

He grins down at you, the feeling of your fingers in his hair feeling better than he ever thought they would. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you mumble, leaning up towards him. “Kiss me.”

Jake tightens his hold on your hip as he reaches up to grab your chin. “God yes, princess,” he murmured before kissing you like a starved man. 

The quiet moan you let out as you kissed him back had his whole body heating up, his hand pulling you from the stool so you could stand in between his legs. He lets out a deep groan, moving his hand from your hip to your thigh, where it slowly inched higher and higher. His tongue swipes against your bottom lip as the kiss grows more and more heated.

It was definitely becoming less and less appropriate for public, but you didn’t seem to care as you parted your lips and grabbed onto either side of his face. Jake groaned again as his tongue slipped into your mouth to taste you, his hand moving higher up your thigh. 

The need for air was the only thing that could’ve pulled him away from your sweet lips, and even then his mouth started to press kisses against the skin of your shoulder. “I want you so bad, baby,” he said against your smooth skin, his hands sliding up your back and pulling you impossibly closer to him. 

You moan quietly, the song playing from the jukebox drowning out the sound so the others can’t hear you. Only he could. “I want you, too,” you confess and his uniform pants were definitely starting to grow a bit tighter now. You pull away from his wandering mouth with a grin, your mood a lot lighter now as you hold onto his shoulders. “Dance with me first.”

Jake groaned, tipping his head back. “Fine, but I’m warning you now, baby, I’m gonna be real fuckin’ handsy with you,”

“God, I hope so,” you teased and he was up and off the stool in seconds. He pulled you back to where you danced with Rooster earlier, and Jake made sure to send Bradley a soft glare as he pressed his body against yours. “This is going a lot better than our first dance.”

He laughed quietly, wrapping his arms around your middle as he leaned down and brushed his lips against the shell of your ear. “This is a lot better, baby,” he agreed, kissing along your jaw as you draped your arms over his shoulders. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting this, princess. To feel your sexy body pressed against mine, to feel your lips…to hear your sweet moans.”

You whine at his words, tipping your head back. “God, Jake, have you always been this much of a flirt?” 

Jake laughed again, slowly moving your bodies to the music. “Only with you, baby,” he whispered next to your ear. “You bring out the most desperate side of me. A side I didn’t even know I had.”

You grin, trailing your hands through his hair as you both tuned out everyone else around. “Do I?”

“Don’t even start,” he muttered, feeling his pants grow even tighter. He’d be damned if he got a fucking boner in the middle of a bar, but it was definitely looking like things were heading that way. 

You laugh, pushing your body even closer to his. “Why not?”

“Baby, you’re driving me crazy,” he groaned. “It’s taking everything in me to not throw you over my shoulder and carry you out of here so I can have you all to myself.”

You smile up at him, tracing your fingers along his jaw. “You know, I think this is better than my failed date with Eric could’ve ever been,”

“Oh, so that’s his name?” He grinned, wrapping his arms tighter around you. “Trust me, princess, this is only going to get better because once we  get out of here, you’re all mine.”

He watches as you bite down on your lip, your hands sliding down his sides . “You’re not drunk, are you?”

Jake shakes his head, “I’m stone cold sober,” he answered, taking your chin between his thumb and index finger. “Don’t tell me you’re already regretting this.”

“No. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” you mumble, taking his hand in yours. 

His smugness drops again as he laces his fingers with yours. “C’mon, baby,” he says deeply, “Let’s go somewhere more private.  I need you all to myself.”

You nod, grinning up at him and letting him lead the way towards the other side of the Hard Deck. He pushes open a door marked ‘Employees Only’ and pulls you inside with him. The room was full of boxes and spare chairs and bar stools, and Jake quickly closed the door before pinning you against it. 

“I want you so bad,” he muttered, taking your wrists in his hands and pinning your arms above your head. You let out a soft moan, pressing against him as he holds your wrists with one hand and uses the other to grab hold of your thigh and wrap your leg around his waist. 

“I want you, too,” you gasp, tightening your leg around his hip. 

Jake groans, leaning down to kiss you deeply. “You’re mine tonight, princess. All mine,”

“Just tonight?” You tease, tilting your head back against the door. 

Jake shook his head, pressing his hips to yours. “Hell no, baby. You think I’m going to be able to let you walk away after just one night?” He asked, feeling the way you inched even closer to him. “I’m gonna want you every single night after this.”

“You can have me,” you promise, showing more of your neck to him. 

“You better mean that,” he grunted before leaning down and sucking various marks onto your neck. “I didn’t wait nearly two fucking years just to only have you for one night.”

You laugh, pushing against his hand. “You’re telling me that you acted like a prick to me for the last two years, but secretly wanted me the whole time?” 

“Yeah,” he answered, letting go of your wrists and wrapping his arms under your thighs. “Add me to that list of shitty men you’ve been with.”

“You’re not so bad,” you grinned, draping your arms around his shoulders. “You got me alone tonight, didn’t you?”

Jake smirked and nodded, lifting you up into his arms and carrying you over to one of the large wooden crates. “I did,” he confirmed, “I want you so bad, princess. You make me fucking feral.”

You moan softly, pulling up your dress so it bunched around your waist. Jake’s eyes darken as he looks down at your bare thighs before he’s groaning and pressing his lips to the side of your neck. “It’s not perfect,” you say, leaning back against the crate. “But I want you to fuck me. Right here.” 

Jake bit his lip and slid his hands up your thighs. “You’re fuckin’ perfect, baby,” he nearly growled, “You know I’m more than happy to fuck you right here.”

A small laugh of excitement escapes your lips as you place your hands flat against the top of the crate behind you, your hips lifting as you help him rid you of your lace panties. 

“Should I be jealous?” He asked, bunching up the flimsy fabric in one of his hands while he used the fingers of his other to slowly trail up your inner thigh. “You weren’t planning on showing Alec these, were you?”

You laugh again, a quiet moan escaping your lips as his fingers brush against your slit.  “It’s Eric,” you corrected but quickly moaned again when he began circling your clit. “No…I wasn’t going to sleep with him. I promise.”

Jake grinned, leaning down to press his lips to yours. “Good…that’s good,” he hummed, sliding his now wet fingers back down your folds. “Let me make you feel good, baby. Can I?”

You nod quickly, your eyes closing a bit as you feel his fingers slowly sink into you. “Oh, God,” you whispered, already so wet for him as you leaned back on the crate. “Jake.”

Your moan of his name has his pants tightening to the point where it was very uncomfortable now, and he leaned down to kiss along your neck as he slowly fucked his fingers into you, his other hand fumbling with his zipper. “You sound so pretty,” he cooed, curling his fingers and beginning to rub your clit. “All for me.”

You moan again, nodding quickly and starting to grind against his hand as he finally manages to relieve the tension of the zipper. “For you,” 

Jake groaned, feeling his fingers get more and more wet as he worked you open. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, kissing along your shoulder as one of your dress straps slipped down. “I always thought you were so damn stunning, baby.”

You whimper, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Really?”

He nodded slowly, moving his head so his lips brushed against yours. “Of course,” he answered, pushing his fingers deeper inside you. “Always thought you were way out of my league.”

“But that didn’t stop you from ruining my date,” you laughed, biting your lip after to muffle your sounds. 

“Are you still mad that I did?”

“No,”

Jake grinned, kissing you deeply as he felt you clench around his fingers. “God, you’re so hot,” he grunted, “I want you to come for me.”

You moaned rather loudly, now starting to fuck yourself on his fingers. “Please,” you begged, reaching up to grab onto his shoulders. “I’m close.”

“Come for me, princess,” he rasped, letting you use his hand however you wanted. “Let me see how fucking pretty you look when you come.”

Your back arched and you wrapped your arms around his neck as you came, biting onto the fabric of his shirt to stifle your moans. “Fuck,” you whimpered, slowly grinding against his fingers. 

“There you go,” he murmured, lifting your chin with his free hand so he could look you in the eye. “You’re mine.”

The moan you let out was pornographic as you nod. “God, yes,”

Jake grinned, slipping his fingers out of you and bringing them up to his lips. He tasted you as you reached down to free him from his boxers. “You taste so good, baby,” he groaned, cleaning your release from his fingers. “Makes me wish I went down on you instead.”

You whine, stroking his hard cock. “Next time,” you promised, staring down at him. “God, you’re big.”

Jake felt himself smirk as he lifted your thighs and wrapped your legs around his waist. “I need to be inside this sweet pussy,” he said, his voice deeper than its ever been. “Please?”

You nod, grabbing onto his shoulders. “Fuck me, Jake,”

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say those exact words,” he muttered, coating himself in your wetness. “You’re so perfect.” 

You blushed, looking up at him through your lashes. “I secretly wanted to say them to you for a long time now, too,”

Jake buried his head against your neck. “Fuck, baby. Do we need a condom?”

“Mm, no,” you answer, “I want to feel all of you.”

He grunted, slowly pushing into you. It didn’t take much for him to be fully inside, you were drenched and it made it easy for him to bottom out in one movement. “Princess,” he huffed out as he slowly began fucking you. “You feel so good.”

“So do you,” came your breathy reply, your arms wrapping around his broad shoulders. “I had a feeling you would.”

Jake moaned at your words, pulling nearly all the way out before burying himself back inside you. “God, baby, you feel even better than I imagined,”

You whimper, wrapping your legs tighter around him. “You’ve thought about this?”

“Of course,” he scoffed, pulling back to press his forehead against yours. “Not just this, though the image came up quite a bit. You’re the only thing I’ve been thinking about lately.”

You moaned lowly, bunching up his shirt in your hands. “Fuck me, Jake…I want to forget about everyone else except for you,”

Your words make him feel a wave of possessiveness wash over him and he grabs your waist tightly, holding you steady as he fucked into you harder than before. “Like this, baby?”

“Yes,” you whimper. “Yes…like that.”

Jake grunted and fucked you hard and rough, and he wasn’t even sure if he locked the door to this room or not. He didn’t really care; if someone were to walk in, they’d just see his back since his whole body covered yours because of the size difference between you and him. Odds are the person would be Penny, and she would probably just walk back out after interrupting because of all the business Jake had given her since he settled down in San Diego. 

His lips are all over your neck and chest, marking your skin as he pleased. “You feel fucking perfect, baby,” 

Jake’s thrusts were becoming more and more desperate as he fucked you hard on the crate, not caring about whatever was in it at all as he heard your sweet moans. “Jake, oh God, don’t stop,”

He kissed you deeply, the slick sound of you taking him bouncing around the dark room. “I won’t, princess,” he grunted, reaching up to tightly grip your jaw. “You feel too good, too tight.”

You tip your head back, moans freely leaving your lips. “I’m gonna come,”

Jake groaned, pushing even deeper inside you. “Yeah? You gonna come for me again, baby?”

“Yes…” you moaned, clinging onto him. 

He grinned and kissed your neck. “Come for me, princess,”

You cry out, clenching around him as you come for a second time, an all too tempting request on your lips as you grind against him, “Come in me,”

Jake’s jaw went slack and he barely had time to process your words before he was coming, too, burying himself deep in your soaked walls until you both were panting. “Fuck,” he breathed out, resting his head against your shoulder as you run your fingers through his hair. 

You grin up at him, keeping him tucked inside you by pressing your heels against his back. “Jake,” you whispered, gripping the sides of his neck. “We’re…together now, right?”

He smirked, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Damn right we’re together now,” 

You blush and smile before kissing him again for a long time.

[nataliebuckleyromanoffharrington]

Treat you better

→ Pairs: Eleven x sister!reader, Max Mayfield x f!reader, Robin Buckley x f!reader, Erica Sinclair x f!reader, Nancy Wheeler x f!reader, Mike Wheeler x f!reader, Will Byers x adopted sister!reader, Dustin Henderson x f!reader, Lucas Sinclair x f!reader, Steve Harrington x f!reader, Argyle x f!reader, Jonathan Byers x f!reader, Eddie Munson x f!reader.

→ Summary: Who will you pick?

→ Warning/s: minor mentions of dying, minor mentions of the Demogorgon, a few swear words.

→ Universe: Stranger Things

→ Setting: A day after you and Eleven close the gate

→ Age: 20

→ Genre: [A/F]

→ Note: You and Eleven are blood sisters, Joyce Byers adopted you and Eleven 2 years ago, making you two sisters with Will and Jonathan Byers and daughters of Joyce Byers. You two have the same powers, same past and trauma.Pretend that Robin and Max were there in Season 1. Yes, you are 20 and Eleven's 15. This short story contains lyrics from Treat you better by Shawn Mendes

→ Reminder: You DO NOT have permission to plagiarize, repost and claim the story are yours. Reblogs, likes and comments are very much appreciated by me :)

→ y'all are going to have to guess who y/n likes more;)

Masterlist(women) • Taglist • Masterlist(men)

Y/N's POV:

Me and my sister are currently in Mike's basement with our friends - Nancy, Robin, Dustin, Max, Erica, Will, Lucas, Argyle, Steve and Mike, El's boyfriend. It isn't so bad here, it's actually quite nice. It's my first time here, I was staying with Joyce Byers before me and my sister were on a run since papa showed up. And finally, we're together again. Joyce adopted me and Eleven a week after Eleven and I met again.

She's number 11 and I'm number ten. We recently found out about our mother a week ago, before everything went downhill. First, we found out that a gate to the Upside down was opened. Last but not the least, papa showed up which is a bad sign. Turns out my name is actually Y/N and Eleven is Jane.

"You could've died in there! You could've been taken by that thing!" Steve argued back to me. I don't know why he didn't want me to go.

"Well, I didn't, Steve. Why didn't you want me to go? Did you want my sister to do it alone?! Did you want her to die?!" I raised my voice angrily. If he wants my sister to die, I'll die with her - or he could die first before my sister.

"No! I don't! I don't want you to go because I love you and I can't lose you!"

Everyone gasped at Steve's response. Oh. my. God. He likes me!? Steve 'the hair' Harrington likes me?! The playboy, Heartthrob Steve likes me?! That's why?! Even I was taken back at his sudden confession. He froze at his spot when he realized what he had just said.

"Holy Shit. You like y/n! I knew it!" Lucas broke the silence between all of us, he began chanting, "Steve likes y/n" with Dustin, Max and El.

He groans out of embarrassment "It's not like that, okay?"

"El and I win Dustin" Max said to the kid while doing the 'give me' hand gesture. Did they just do bet on us? Dustin groaned loudly and gave Max and El their prize.

"You did a betted on us?" I asked, I received a nod from the four kids "Oh my God. Why?"

"We always sense some sexual tension when you two lock eyes every time. It's like you are talking with each other with your minds. So we thought that you two like each other, so, we made a bet. El and Max went for you two having a crush on each other and and I went for you two only having either one of you likes the other" Dustin explained to us

"Telepathy" El added

"For how much?" Steve asked

"A hundred bucks" Max blurted out

"A hundred bucks?!" Steve and I exclaimed in synch, we share a surprised look before looking back at the four kids.

"Yeah, two teams. Each person on that team gets 50 bucks" Dustin explained to us

"Wait! Are we just going to ignore the fact that y/n didn't say anything after Steve's confession?" Mike interrupted us. Right. I didn't.

"Do you like Steve back?" Nancy asked me straight away

I turn to Steve "Can I talk to you, " I glance at the kids then looked back at him "Alone?"

"Y.. yeah, s... sure" He stuttered with scratching the back of his neck, the two of us went out of the house to talk alone. Without any kids. But I'm pretty sure that at least one of them followed us out, those snoops . "What did you, uh, want to talk about?"

"About what you said. Is it true? Because I don't want to be the only one who believes that it's not true" I answered

No one's POV:

Whilst y/n and Steve are talking outside, the kids in the basement were betting once again.

"I'll go with y/n doesn't feel the same way" Lucas betted first

"Same" Max, El, Nancy, Dustin and Robin all teamed with Lucas.

"I'll go with y/n feeling the same way" Mike declared, confident with his answer

"I'm with Mike" Will, Jonathan, Eddie and Argyle teamed with Mike

"Wait, you're all seriously betting over y/n/n and Steve?" Erica interrupted the betting

"As you heard, yes we are. Whose team are you on?" Nancy asked the kid

"I'll choose but it depends on how much the winner wins" Erica sassed

Honestly, Robin was hurt when she found out that Steve likes y/n because she has taken a liking to the y/h/c woman ever since they met. No one actually knows who y/n really likes, that's why they betted in the first place. Robin and y/n are very close friends, both women work together at Scoops Ahoy with Steve. The mall has been in Hawkins for a year now, and ever since it was built, many stores in the downtown have lost its customers, including the local video rental store.

Where you and Robin first met, you were looking for a job there and you saw that the local video rental store, known now as Family Video, was hiring so you applied, there you met Robin and the rest in history.

"20 bucks," Lucas answered "Each person on the winner team gets 20 bucks"

"25" Erica opposed the deal

"20" Lucas argued

"25 or I'm not picking"

"Fine. 25 bucks for each person on the winner team" Lucas gave up

"Then I'll go with y/n feels the same way" Erica chose a team.

At that exact moment, when the other team was about to argue Steve and y/n came walking down the stairs. As y/n steps on the floor, she took Robin's hand and dragged the woman beside her. Steve had a miserable expression on his face.

"Steve. Robin. Would you two like to share what you two are feeling about me so I could decide, please?" Y/N requested. Only Nancy knows about Robin's feelings for y/n, and only Jonathan knows about Steve's feelings for y/n which is now revealed to the kids.

Everyone looked quizzically at y/n, confused about what she's talking about.

"Then I'm not picking" she sighed, walking limply to the couch and plopped on it while everyone still had their eyes on her. "What? You're wondering why I know, am I right?"

Robin and Steve nodded, as well as the others. That made y/n sigh again and stood up, with her hands holding each other behind her as she walks towards the people she says, "Well, Robin, itall started when.."

What happend, this is in y/n's POV:

After I had studied with Billy in the back of Scoops Ahoy, I overheard Robin and Nancy talking, little did they know that I heard them

"I can't tell her yet, it's hard, Nance" Robin groaned

"You have to, or else one day you'll wake up and see that she's walking down the aisle, getting married to the love of her life whilst you stand there, completely regretting that you didn't tell her sooner" Nancy told her best friend

"But what if she doesn't like me back?"

"At least you told her before it's too late"

End of story, No one's POV:

"Oh" Robin whispered, embarrassed that y/n, her crush, had to find out like that.

"And as for Steve," you sighed "you all know how I found out" you sat back down on the couch

"So who's your pick? I can treat you better" Steve stated

Robin frowned and said, "I know I can treat you better that he can"

"any girl like you deserves a gentleman" Steve fought

"Tell me why are we wasting time on all your wasted crying hen you should be with me instead? I know I can treat you better better than he can" Robin argued

"I'll stop time for you. The second you say you'd like me too" Steve argued back

Everyone was amused by this little show, probably the highlight of the sleepover.

"This is a sleepover, not some open forum" Dustin whispered to Max

"Let them fight for y/n. It's amusing" Max whispered to Dustin. Robin started walking towards you, gripping onto your arms gently as she looks into your eyes.

"I just wanna give you the loving that you're missing. Baby, just to wake up with you. Would be everything I need, and this could be so different. Tell me what you want to do" Robin finished softly, y/n searched for any lies through Robin's eyes but she found nothing but love, desperation and... lust? "Who's your pick?"

"I choose..."

[mrs-gucci]

Gucci’s Girl [REPOST] {Maurizio Gucci x Reader}

author’s notes: hellooo! I originally wrote this story as an ‘x OC’ because that’s what I was writing at the time, but I decided to change it into an ‘x Reader’ story since that’s what more people like to read!

**I used a translation application for the Italian in this story. Apologies if there are any typos and/or incorrect sentences/grammar. Italian sentences/words are in italics throughout the story with translations after the sentences in parenthesis.

**This is MY OWN INTERPRETATION of Maurizio Gucci’s character, as portrayed by Adam Driver in the upcoming film, House Of Gucci.

warnings: smut. fluff. grinding. multiple orgasms. pretty vanilla sex.

(possible) tw’s: infidelity (he’s engaged, not married).

SMUT under the CUT!

“Tesoro” means “Treasure” in Italian (an affectionate nickname).

“Y/N, will you stay after for a bit?”

Mr. Gucci walks over to your desk.

“I need to ask you something.”

You nod, smiling up at your boss.

“Of course, Mr. Gucci.”

Inside, you were panicking. 

He’s never asked you to stay after work before, except on your first day, which made sense.  But this doesn’t make sense… 

He returns the smile.

“Excellent. Just come to my office.”

You continue to work, faxing and typing away until the clock read five. 

Everyone else begins to pack up and bids you farewell as you make your way up to Mr. Gucci’s office.

The wooden door has never looked more intimidating than it does in this moment, as you raise your knuckles and knock.

“Entra in.” (Come in.)

You take a deep breath before you turn the handle, forcing a smile on your face.

He looks so scary and intimidating when he sits at his desk, a fact that, when you told him, made him laugh.

“Ah, yes, Y/N. Come in, sit down.”

The chairs in his office are top-of-the-line, a refreshing change from the less-than luxurious chairs out on the floor.

Mr. Gucci lights a cigarette and takes a drag before standing up and walking around to take a seat in the chair next to you.

When he sees your confused expression, he laughs softly, taking another drag.

“I know you think I look scary sitting back there, and I don’t want you to be scared of me.”

Your eyes go wide.

“O-Oh, that’s not what I meant—“

“I know, tesoro.”

He chuckles, eyes flickering over your face before he speaks again. 

“So, the annual House of Gucci Ball is coming up, as you know.”

You nod.

“And, I was wondering...would you want to...come with me?”

Your stomach drops.

“W-What?”

The CEO looks incredibly flustered and anxious, a new look for him.

“My fiancée isn’t feeling well and as the head of the House, I really don’t want to go alone…”

In a bold move, you reach out and gently place your hand over his. He looks up at you, and you smile.

“I’d, uhh, I’d love to go, sir. It would be my pleasure.”

“Great.”

The corners of his lips tug up into a genuine smile and his eyes dart away from yours as he takes another drag.

“I’ll have the company tailor come in tomorrow and take your measurements for a gown. And you’ll come here three hours beforehand in order to have hair and makeup done.”

You’re still partially in shock as he discusses dresses and makeup and hair. 

It’s become clear to you over the past few weeks that he has feelings for you, and you think they’re the same feelings that you have for him. 

But obviously, neither of you can act on them, no matter how badly you wish you could. He’s set to be married in a few months, and there’s a very strict company policy that forbids relationships between workers and their supervisors.

So, it left this unresolved tension between the two of you, and you literally just agreed to spend an entire night at an event with him.

The reality hits and you feel lightheaded.

Oh my god, I’m going to the company ball with Maurizio Gucci.

Four Weeks Later

The elevator dings and you step out into the now-vacant office. You see several people standing around a portable salon setup, and they all turn to look at you.

“Miss Y/N?”

One of them asks.

You nod.

“Si.” (Yes.)

They quickly sit you down in the chair and begin applying makeup and doing your hair.

-

You’re tearing up a little bit as you look at yourself in the mirror. Clad in a long, form-fitting gown and in full hair and makeup, you look and feel like a princess.

The stylist hands you a small accent clutch and almost immediately after, the elevator dings, and Mr. Gucci steps out, clad in a snappy black suit, not unlike what he wears at work everyday. 

That man is never not in a suit, you’ve learned.

His eyes go wide as you step down from the small platform. Your cheeks warm under his intense gaze.

The stylist looks nervous as his eyes roam your figure. 

She speaks up a moment later, voice meek.

“Il vestito e il trucco soddisfano i suoi standard, signore?” (Does the dress and makeup meet your standards, sir?)

He tears his eyes away from you, and nods at the stylist.

“Ha superato le mie aspettative.” (It’s exceeded my expectations.)

You’re blushing madly now, unable to meet his eyes as you feel him looking at you again.

Soon, the stylist packs up and leaves just you and Mr. Gucci alone. 

He clears his throat, breaking the silence.

“You look...beautiful, absolutely beautiful, tesoro.”

You bite your lip as you look up at him, absolutely starstruck by his handsomeness. He somehow manages to look better and more attractive every time you see him. 

“You’re too sweet, sir.”

He takes your hand, kissing your knuckles. 

“Please, I’m Maurizio tonight.”

You nod, trying his name on your tongue. 

“Maurizio.”

Mr. Gucci smiles as he releases your hand.  “We have a few minutes before the car gets here...would you like some water? Espresso?”

“I’m alright, but thank you.” You say. 

A few moments of sexually-charged silence lingers between you two.

“Thank you for agreeing to join me tonight.”

He says suddenly.

“I always enjoy our time together, Y/N.”

You smile.

“Me too.”

“Really? You do?”

Maurizio blushes slightly.

“It’s just...I’m an old man, you’re a young woman...”

You chuckle as you reach out to hold his hand.

“You’re not old, sir—Maurizio. And yes, really, I do enjoy our time together.”

“I’m glad.”

He says, eyes flicking down to your lips as he leans in a little bit.

Wait...what? Is he gonna… Fuck, oh god, this can’t happen...

Honk!

He flinches at the sound, standing up straight and clearing his throat.

“I guess the car is here.”

You chuckle nervously as he holds out his hand, and you take it, walking alongside him to the elevator. 

It’s a short drive to the hotel and when you two arrive, there are swarms of paparazzi, all crowding around the car when the driver pulls to the curb. 

Maurizio clearly sees your overwhelmed expression and tension, reaching over to squeeze your hand. 

“Don’t worry, tesoro. Just stay by my side and don’t answer any of their questions, yes?”

You nod and he gets out, walking around to open your door and help you out of the car. Immediately, when the press sees that you’re not his fiancée, the cameras flash even more rapidly and voices overlap one another. 

“Sei la nuova fidanzata di Maurizio?” (Are you Maurizio’s new girlfriend?)

“Maurizio, dov’e la tua fidanzata?” (Maurizio, where’s your fiancée?)

“Strumento a mano.” (Gold digger.)

“Puttana americana.” (American whore.)

They were all basically on top of you, asking so many questions and saying so many things about you, it was incredibly overwhelming.

Suddenly, Maurizio’s voice boomed through the crowd, and everyone fell silent.

“Lasciala in pace!” (Leave her alone!)

His arm wraps tighter around your waist, pressing you even further into his side as he walks you both into the building. The cameras and crowds were almost completely silent, still, and you were just trying to process it all as the two of you walked into the event, you still tucked into his side.

He stopped just inside the door and let you go, taking your hands instead, eyebrows furrowed with worry. 

“Are you okay, tesoro? They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

You shake your head, still trembling a little bit. 

“N-No, I’m okay, just a little shaken up.”

“They’re vicious and relentless...mi dispiace. I should’ve warned you about them beforehand, but I’m relieved that you’re okay.” (I’m sorry)

“It’s okay, Maurizio, really.”

You smile sadly.

“Thank you for helping me.”

He wraps an arm around you again, gently squeezing your hip before rubbing it lightly. 

“Of course, anything for mi tesoro. I’m indebted to you for joining me tonight.”

You’re blushing, eyes darting away from his. 

“Oh no, that’s not necessary. It’s an honor to accompany you, and I’m sorry that my presence caused so much trouble for you, with the press.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

He smiles, eyes lingering on you for a moment before guiding you into the massive ballroom. 

You’re absolutely stunned by the beauty of it, the chandeliers glittering on the ceiling as they illuminate the entire room. 

Maurizio seems to notice your staring, and pauses as well, chuckling softly. 

“It’s very pretty, isn’t it?”

You turn to him and nod, smiling. 

“It’s beautiful.”

Once you get inside and take your seats, Maurizio is immediately flocked with people wanting to speak with him. Some of them give you a judgemental glance or gaze, and you just look away, taking another sip of your wine. 

This is gonna be a long night.

-

Naturally, Maurizio has been talking to people nonstop all night, which was expected of course, but for some reason, you’d sort of hoped he’d make some time for just the two of you. You genuinely enjoy his company, he’s actually really kind and funny when he’s not in ‘work mode’. 

Why would he do that for you? You’re just his replacement date, Y/N, nothing more.

So, you sit back in your chair and casually nibble at the new dinner course that was put on your plates a few minutes ago. 

A dance song begins to play and suddenly, Maurizio stands up and holds his hand out for you. 

“Would you like to dance, mi tesoro?”

“Absolutely.”

You blush, biting your lip as you stand up.

He places his hand on the small of your back as you two walk onto the floor. You wrap your arms around his neck while he places his hands on your waist, holding you close as the two of you begin gently swaying to the slow tune. 

“It’s nice to step away from the table for a bit.”

He says, chuckling. 

“I only see these people once a year, so they always want to talk the night away.”

You laugh. 

“I understand, and I’m happy that I could provide an excuse for you to get away, even if only for a few minutes.”

“You’re anything but an excuse, Y/N.”

Maurizio says, blushing a bit. 

“I’ve been wanting to make some time to spend with you, but I haven’t gotten the opportunity. I’m sorry for that, this must be tedious for you.”

You shake your head. 

“No, it’s alright, although I do respect your fiancée much more now that I understand what happens at events like this.”

You jest, and he laughs.

“But, in all seriousness, I’m fine. You shouldn’t feel any obligation to keep me entertained, I understand my role for tonight.”

His face sinks ever so slightly, but he still smiles nonetheless. 

“I did hope to spend some time with you, though. Like I said, I enjoy spending time with you.”

The song suddenly ends and a much more upbeat one takes its place. 

Maurizio’s face seems to light up, and he smiles widely. 

“Are you ready?”

“Ready for what?”

You’re suddenly lifted up and spun around. You laugh the entire time and he continues spinning you. 

The whole world seems to fade and suddenly, it’s just you two on the dancefloor. 

Your eyes are glued on one another as he sets you back down, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile so genuinely. You briefly wonder how many of these moments he gets to have with his job.

You’re still laughing as he takes your hand and tries to twirl you around. He’s laughing along with you as you start to twirl, but you forgot how long your dress is, and you start to fall backwards.

A strong arm reaches down and scoops you up before you can hit the floor, and suddenly, you’re centimeters away from his face, his breath tickling your skin. 

He’s still smiling as he slowly stands back up with you in his arms. 

“Be careful, tesoro. We’re not taking any trips to the emergency room tonight, okay?”

You smile, unable to bring yourself to take your eyes off of him as you’re placed back onto your feet, his arm still around you, holding you close. 

You allow yourself, for the first time since your internship began, to take in all of his features. You let your eyes drink in his beauty and it feels like time has stopped. He’s even more handsome up-close, his pale skin a stark contrast to his dark eyes and the freckles sprinkled across his features. 

Before you know it, he leans forward and rests his forehead on yours, his lips so close now.

“Voglio davvero baciarti, tesoro.” (I really want to kiss you right now, treasure.)

He whispers.

His voice is so deep, yet soft and full of yearning. It sends a chill down your spine.

“Non ti fermero, bello.” (I’m not going to stop you, handsome.)

“Bene.” (Good.)

He leans forward the rest of the way and your lips connect in a tender embrace. 

You close your eyes and let your hand reach up to cradle the side of his face. 

He soon pulls away, a face-splitting grin on his face. 

You’re wearing a similar expression.

“Mi chiedevo quando l’avresti finalmente fatto.” (I was wondering when you were finally going to do that.)

You giggle, nuzzling your nose against his slightly.

Maurizio laughs softly.

“Mi chiedevo quando avrei dovuto farlo anch’io.” (I was wondering when I was going to do it, as well.)

The moment is quickly ruined when you realize exactly where you are, and you’re afraid to know how many people saw that. You quickly stand up straight and so does he, both of you taking a small step away from each other as you straighten yourselves out. 

When you turn back towards the table, all of the people stare right at you, and you feel your face get hot. You look up at Maurizio when he comes up beside you.

“I think I’ll just catch a cab back to the house…”

You say, looking down.

He looks over at the table, seeing his work colleagues giving you judgemental glares. His finger gently lifts your chin until you’re looking up at him again.

“Let me take you back, tesoro. It’s the least I can do, and we can talk about...everything.”

You nod. 

“I’m really sorry about this…”

Maurizio shakes his head. 

“No, tesoro, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have done that in such a public space.”

Your cheeks get warmer. 

“Are you saying that you still would’ve done it?”

His cheeks go pink as he looks away. 

“Yes, I still would’ve kissed you, Y/N.”

Is this real?

He clears his throat, placing a hand on the small of your back.

“Why don’t you go up to the front while I retrieve our stuff from the table? I’ll make sure that no one says anything or thinks poorly of you.”

“Thank you.”

You say, smiling. 

“I’ll get them to call us a cab.”

He’s at the table for about five minutes while you wait by the door, anxious for what’s to come. 

“Sorry, mi tesoro, they tried to tell me that I shouldn’t leave early. But, I insisted on seeing you safely back to your house.”

“If you need to stay…”

You begin, but are quickly stopped.

“No, I’m going with you.”

You’re so flattered that he would leave the biggest company party of the year just for you. You.

The cab arrives shortly after and you two walk out into the warm Italian night air, hopping into the car. His hand rests gently on your thigh as the car pulls away from the curb. 

He sighs.

“I’m sorry that I got you involved in this. My life is...complicated, especially as someone constantly under the public eye.”

You don’t even want to ask this next question, but you have to.

“Maurizio, are you still engaged?”

His head turns away to look out the window.

“I’m not sure.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “What do you mean, you aren’t sure? It’s a yes or no question.”

“Patrizia left me last night and she hasn’t come back.”

He says, choking up a bit.

You gently put your hand over his and he looks over at you.

“I’m really sorry, that’s...terrible. Did she say why?”

“I told her that I was taking you tonight, and she got upset.”

He sighed. 

“She asked me if I had feelings for you, since I talk to her about you almost every day…”

“You talk about me?”

Maurizio smiles softly, nodding. “Of course I do. Ever since you’ve been here, the office has been...happier. I’ve been happier.”

You take a deep breath, trying not to freak out over what you’re hearing.

“S-So, when she asked you if you had feelings for me...what did you tell her?”

He turns fully to the side, bringing a hand up to cup your face.

“Le ho detto la verita, che mi sono sentito per te sin dal primo giorno in cui sei entrato in ufficio.” (I told her the truth, that I’ve felt for you since the first day you walked into the office.)

You can’t help but smile as your face warms again, eyes darting away from his as he continues.

“Sono un uomo migliore con te nella mia vita, tesoro.” (I’m a better man with you in my life, treasure.)

“Maurizio, I…”

You begin, trying to find the right words.

“Lo so che non dovrei, ma mi sento anche per te.” (I know I shouldn’t, but I feel for you, too.)

He smiles, leaning in closer.

“Qual e la ragione dell-amore senza rischi?” (What is the point of love without risk?)

This time, you close the gap between your lips. His other hand comes to hold your face as you kiss, so much passion and want in every movement of your lips together. 

You move closer, legs draping over his lap.

Just as you make a move to sit on his lap, the cab pulls up to your house, forcing you apart.

Both of you are panting softly, eyes staring deep into each other’s.

“Tesoro, ti prego, faccio l’amore stasera.” (Treasure, please, let me make love to you tonight.)

He leans in and crashes your lips together again, this kiss filled with urgency, with lust, with need.

You nod, biting your lip.

“Ti voglio. Ho bisogno di te, per favore.” (I want you. I need you, please.)

Maurizio smiles, paying the driver before quickly hopping out of the car, rushing around to let you out. As soon as you step out, you’re swept up off your feet and carried bridal-style to the front door. You unlock the door and he quickly closes it with his foot. 

You reach up and begin planting kisses on his neck, enjoying the way he sighs softly. 

“Which one is yours?”

He asks, breathily.

“Upstairs, the loft.”

He makes his way up the small flight of stairs. 

“Is anyone else here?”

You nod. “They’re all on the first floor.”

Maurizio hums, gently placing you down on the bed before shedding his suit coat, hanging it on your desk chair, followed by his tie. He takes off his loafers and socks, placing them beneath his other clothes.

You’d barely gotten your heels off at the point. He laughs when he turns around and sees you struggling to get the shoes off. He quickly pulls it off and tosses it on the floor, holding your foot while he kisses your ankle and calf. 

He takes a moment to look at you laid back on the bed, once neatly done hair loosened, makeup a bit smudged. His lips pulled up into a smile, teeth playfully scraping at your ankle bone. 

“You have too much on, mi tesoro.”

You smile, standing up and turning away from him, silently asking him to unbutton and unzip your dress. He steps up behind you, breaths hot on your neck as his fingers work the buttons. 

His lips begin planting kisses on your shoulders, soon undoing the zipper, freeing you from the dress. You step out and stand before him in just your underwear, looking away as his eyes rake over your figure. 

Your cheeks grow hotter when you look down to see the tent growing in his dress pants.

“Etereale.” (Ethereal.)

He mutters, fingers working the buttons of his shirt, gently tossing it with his other clothes before working at the buckle on his belt. 

“Formidabile.” (Gorgeous.)

The leather belt was soon tossed onto the growing pile of clothing. He unbuttons his pants before stepping forward again, now almost right up against you. 

His hand wraps around your wrist and brings your palm to the tent in his pants, growling softly when it touches. He leaned forward, lips at your ear.

“For you, tesoro. All for you.”

You shudder as his lips plant kisses all over your neck while his hands roam your bare body, fingers teasing your breasts.

“You’re so sensitive.”

He breathes, hands squeezing your breasts gently. 

“When was the last time someone touched you like this, hm?”

“It’s been a w-while.”

You say, gasping when his thumb rolls over your pebbled nipple. 

“O-Oh…”

Maurizio grins, placing one more kiss on your neck before standing up straight, tugging his pants and boxers down. You watch in amazement when his length bobs as it’s exposed, mouth watering at the sight.

He smirks. “Do you see something you like?”

“Absolutely.”

You reply, biting your lip. 

He laughs softly. 

“Well...would you like to touch it?”

His cheeks flush pink. 

You nod, reaching to wrap your hand around the base. His eyes flutter shut at your touch, and he sucks in a breath when you begin stroking.

“Mmmmm, davvero buono.” (so good.)

His head falls back when you increase your pace, hips gently rutting forward. His eyebrows knit in the center of his forehead, small moans escaping his lips.

Suddenly, he pulls away, letting out a shaky breath as his length stirs at the loss of contact.

“You are too good at that, mi tesoro.”

He bites his lip, fingertips teasing the lace waistband of your panties.

“May I touch you now?”

You nod, jumping softly when he all but tears the material down your legs, exposing your folds. He reaches down and cups your center, eyes widening when he feels how wet you are.

“Oh,”

He whispers, fingers tracing up to rub your clit.

“Tesoro...you’re so excited already, and I haven’t even touched you.”

Your hips suddenly buck forward out of instinct, and Maurizio chuckles breathily, rubbing a bit faster. You gasp, breath catching in your throat. 

“S-Shit.”

You allow yourself to get lost in the pleasure, head falling forward onto his chest. The small noises falling from your lips get increasingly louder as you draw closer and closer to release. 

His fingers suddenly push up into you, and you almost cum right on the spot. His digits feel so much better than yours as they begin plunging in and out, scissoring occasionally. 

“Lasciatemi prendere, tesoro, e ti acchiappero.” (Let go for me, treasure, and I will catch you.)

He whispers breathily, stroking faster. 

“Andiamo.” (Let go.)

His fingers curl up inside of you, and after a few rubs on your g-spot, you’re coming with a soft cry. 

“Maurizio...oh mio dio…” (Maurizio...oh my god…)

Your knees buckle and you begin to fall, but he catches you immediately, smiling down at you as his fingers continue to work you through your climax. He leans over to kiss you again, slowly and gently pulling his fingers out. 

“Lay back, mi tesoro, and open your legs.”

He whispers against your lips, standing back up straight as you sit down on the edge of the bed before laying back. 

You spread my legs, ready to receive him, and he smiles as he climbs on top of you. He’s still wearing his glasses, and while you find that humorous and quite frankly cute, it’s also incredibly arousing for some reason. You don’t dwell on it, wanting to focus on the moment unfolding before your eyes. 

Maurizio strokes his hardened length a few times, grunting softly, before rubbing himself across your folds. His eyes shut and he takes a shaky breath as your slick spreads across his cock. He starts pressing and rubbing the tip against your clit for a bit, smirking when your hips buck up against him.

He looks down at you, lining himself up with your entrance. 

“Are you ready? I’ll go slow for you, tesoro.”

You nod and he pushes in slowly, growling softly. He shivers, stopping when he’s about halfway in.

“Is it still okay?”

Your legs wrap around his waist, pushing his hips forward while you scoot closer, pushing him in the rest of the way.

“D-Does that answer your question?”

You chuckle.

He laughs breathily, nodding. 

“Indeed, it does.”

You take deep breaths while you adjust to his size, soon nodding, letting him know that it’s okay for him to move. He pulls about halfway out before pushing back in again, exhaling loudly as he establishes a rhythm of slow, deep thrusts. 

“O-Oh, cazzo, sei fantastico.” (Oh, fuck, you feel amazing.)

Your jaw hangs open, body bouncing with each of his inward thrusts. You hold onto his biceps for dear life as his pace increases ever so slightly. 

“Maurizio,”

You breathe, looking up into his eyes. 

“Keep going, please.”

The bed squeaks as his hips’ movements grow more desperate. 

“Tesoro, I--cazzo--I’m not going to last.” (fuck)

He says, eyebrows knitted on his forehead.

“I h-haven’t done this--merda--in a w-while.” (shit)

You nod in understanding, moving your hands up to cup the sides of his face.

“It’s okay, M-Maurizio, it’s alright.”

His eyes meet yours as he growls softly, shaking his head. 

“No, it’s n-not. You deserve better, t-the best, Y/N.”

Your thumb swipes on his cheekbone as his eyes tear up with a mixture of pleasure and frustration.

“Y-You already are the best, bello, and I w-want you to cum, no m-matter if I have o-or not. I want you to p-pleasure yourself, okay? Don’t worry about m-me.” (handsome)

He smiles softly, falling onto his elbows, lips connecting with yours as he thrusts get harder. He grunts deeply with each thrust, breath hot and heavy on the side of your neck.

“Oh tesoro, I’m...close. Where…”

He searches for the right words, mind clouded with lust. He groans in frustration.

“Dove vuoi che sborra?” (Where do you want me to cum?)

You tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging gently. 

“Sono sulla pillola. Puoi sborra dentro, se vuoi, bello.” (I’m on the pill. You can cum inside, if you want, handsome.)

These words seem to awaken something in him, his eyes going black, hips suddenly rutting quickly and desperately into you. 

“Cazzo, sei incredibile, sei perfetto, tesoro.” (Fuck, you’re amazing, you’re perfect, treasure.)

Maurizio buries his face into the crook of your neck as he reaches climax, moans and gasps muffled by your skin. He buries his cock deep inside of you, painting your walls with his release, rutting them desperately as he fills you up.

“Y/N, oh dio, prendi tutto per me. Bene, sei bravissima, mi tesoro.” (Y/N, oh god, take it all for me. Good, you’re so good, my treasure).

As soon as he finishes, his hand reaches down to rub your clit in circles, eyes meeting yours.

“C’mon, let me pleasure you now. Let go, tesoro, give yourself to me.”

Your back arches and your hips grind against his fingers, mouth full of whimpers, whines, and gasps as his fingers rub you. You grab onto his bicep when you cum, looking up into his eyes. 

“Yes, oh Maurizio, yes!”

You gasp, moaning softly as your release spreads throughout your body.

He continues to rub you through it, cock twitching slightly where it still sits inside of you, causing him to growl softly. 

After both of you take a moment to catch your breaths, he slowly pulls out, and you can see that he’s already hard again. He blushes, looking away for a moment.

“I...I’m sorry, that’s never happened before…”

You chuckle, shaking your head.

“Maurizio, you don’t need to apologize. It’s actually sort of flattering, that I can do that to you.”

He smiles softly, laying down next to you, pulling you back against him. You didn’t realize exactly how hard he actually was until you felt him pressed against your back, and you felt bad.

“Do you…I mean, I can...”

You trail off, a bit embarrassed, hoping he got the point.

Maurizio immediately shakes his head. 

“No, tesoro, don’t worry. I will be okay.”

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip before you speak.

“If you wanted to, you could...rub it against me.”

You feel his member twitch at your proposition, and you turn around in his arms, looking up at him. His cheeks are bright red.

“Will you show me?”

He asks quietly.

You smile, nodding. 

“All you have to do is start moving your hips against me, using my skin to rub on.”

He experimentally rolls his hips, jaw clenched as he tries to contain himself. 

“O-Oh.”

He tried it again, growling as his cock dragged along your stomach.

“Tesoro, it’s…”

You can’t pretend that this isn’t incredibly arousing for you to watch and feel. His tip was already red and leaking, so you knew he wasn’t going to last very long.

“Does it feel good, Maurizio?”

You feel him nod, hips moving faster now as he looks down at you. 

“Yes, cristo, it’s s-so good.” (christ)

His lips crash onto yours and he loops an arm behind you, holding you still as he begins rutting against you, growling into your mouth. He moves his head down to kiss and nip at your neck.

“Your s-skin is so soft, mi tesoro.”

He whispers, grunting with each forward motion now. 

His leg lifts up and lays over your hip, allowing him to thrust harder, hand still on your lower back. He’s close, you can tell, and you attentively watch the way his face contorts as he reaches orgasm. 

He suddenly hugs you tight, a choked sob against your neck as his seed spills all over your stomach and his.

“Ah! Ah--oh--cristo!” (christ)

You run your hands through his hair soothingly as he comes down, trembling slightly. He slides down your body a bit, resting his head between your breasts, kissing them gently. 

After a short while, he looks up at you. 

“Grazie, Y/N, grazie mille.” (Thank you, Y/N, thank you so much.)

You smile. 

“You don’t have to thank me, Maurizio, it was my pleasure.”

He reaches up and connects your lips in a tender yet passionate kiss before he pulls away, cringing when he feels the stickiness between you. 

“I’m sorry, fuck, I’ve never...that’s never…”

You kiss him again, cutting him off.

“No worries, we can just clean it off. I’ll get a wet washcloth.”

You stand and come back a moment later with a wet washcloth, reaching down to wipe yourself off before Maurizio’s hand wraps around your wrist, stopping you. 

“Let me.”

He smiles, taking the cloth from your hand, cleaning up the sticky substance before doing the same to himself. 

Your cheeks are warm as you look up at him.

“Thank you.”

“No problem, mi tesoro.”

He suddenly looks away, frowning softly. 

“I-I can’t stay tonight, Y/N, I’m sorry. If someone catches us…”

You shake your head, holding the side of his face.

“No, no need to explain. I understand.”

Maurizio nods silently, sighing as he begins to redress. You slip your panties back on, along with an oversized t-shirt and you pull your hair up into a ponytail. 

When he’s ready, you offer to go first, in case anyone’s still awake. He agrees, and you make your way down the stairs, looking around, not seeing anyone. You look up the stairs and nod, indicating that it’s okay. He makes his way down and you walk with him to the door. 

“Do you have a car coming?”

He nods. “My driver is already outside.”

There’s a moment of silence before Maurizio suddenly grabs your hips, pulling you against him as his lips crash down onto yours, the kiss desperate and full of longing. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him down closer. 

He pulls away slowly, eyes fluttering open. 

“Alla prossima, tesoro.” (Until next time, my treasure.)

You smile, biting your lip as he sneaks out the door, rushing down and hopping into the car waiting for him. 

As you watch his car pull away from the curb, only one thought occupies your mind:

Holy shit, I just slept with Maurizio Gucci.

[fangirlings-things]

Rescheduled Lesson

❦ PART. II

Fandom: Enola Holmes

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x female reader

Word count: 3K

anon said: Can I request a Sherlock x reader where she visited Enola often when Sherlock left on long cases, so they became good friends? And when Enola runs away to find her mom, she goes to stay with the reader, which Sherlock deduces and tries to get her to let him find Enola and talk to her? -&

A/N: this request was amazing and I loved every bit of it!!! I put all my inspiration in this, tried to make the personality of the character good, so I hope you like this piece, love, I did my best!! (also I’m thinking about a part 2? if you guys like it let me know, I would be delighted to write it) (had to repost guys, I'm sorry!!)

also, the tag list for this fandom is open!!!

gif credit: @henrycavilledits

❧ You knew the Holmes family was nothing like the other families that lived in the countryside. The father had died many years before. The two oldest sons had already left home, to live their lives and follow the careers they desired. On that incredibly big house, where once lived a family, there was only a mother and her youngest child left. Perhaps the fact that you yourself was considered a little off by other people, was the fact that made you become friends with them.

You lived completely alone, surrounded by books in a small house. Your life was made of studying, researching and writing texts about science. You loved it, great authors of the matter being your inspiration. You tried to learn their teachings and with luck, wanted others to learn as well. You almost couldn’t believe when one day in the middle of a sunny afternoon, Eudoria Holmes had showed up at your door and invited you to her house, where she asked you to be Enola’s science teacher. She educated her daughter not for society, but for herself, so that she could find her own path when she came to grow up. That instantly made you respect that woman and accept her offer.

Twice a week you would go to the Holmes’s house and spend hours and more hours teaching the girl. Darwin, Copernicus, Newton, Galilei. She was eager to know and you were eager to teach her. She was the first student you had that actually wanted to learn and that was amazing. Made you proud and happy, more than you could say. At the evening, Eudoria would ask you to stay for dinner. You would put lessons aside and talk and laugh together. They were like your family, the one you didn’t had.

You were always excited for the days of teaching Enola to come soon. They were your absolute favorites of the week. In the beginning of the afternoon of one of those days, you had been incredibly surprised by a knock on your front door while you gathered the books you would make the girl read and study. Frowning, because you never had visitors or received letters, you went to attend the door.

And when you opened it, you saw that your visitor was Enola herself.

“Hi, Miss (Y/L/N)” the girl smiled at you, a little forced smile that instantly made your frown grow deeper. She was wearing boy’s clothes, even a hat, and her long brown hair had been hidden inside of it. “I’m afraid today’s lesson will have to be rescheduled”

“Enola, what…” you began, confused. You had seen her dressed in boy’s clothes before around her house, that wasn’t a big deal. She did find them more comfortable, she had told you before. But the fact that she concealed her hair as if she wanted to hide it and the expression on her face, something that you couldn’t quite identify but resembled urgency, was enough for you to get anxious.

“Please, Miss (Y/L/N), can I come in? I promise I’ll explain everything you want to know” she pleaded, eyes locked on yours as she did so. The tone on her voice made you nod and take a step to the side, locking the door once she was already inside. “I had never been here. Your house is really amazing” the girl seemed overwhelmed by all the books and unfinished texts you had around, laying on tables and shelves.

“Thank you” you said, mind still running fast as you tried to understand what was happening. You walked after the girl, that had advanced until she reached the next room of your house, one who only had two couches and a table. “Enola, what is going on?” her face instantly lost the admiration she was having for your belongings. Her eyes went to the floor, and she went silent. That made you sight. “Enola, you promise you would explain. And you know you can trust me”

That seemed to make her come around, because she sighted as you had just did and sat at one of your couches. Or better, she laid down on it, placing her head over a pillow and focusing her eyes on the roof. Her hands were joined over her chest. “I came here because I wanted to hide, Miss (Y/L/N). I’m running away”

Your eyes went wide at that declaration and you sat on the other couch, realizing that would probably be a long conversation. “Enola! Think about your mother! She loves you. Your disappearance will hurt her deeply”

“No, no, I’m not running away from my mother. I’m running away to find her” the girl sat straight on the couch, eyes meeting yours again like they had before at the door. She could see the confusion in your eyes grow by each word she spoke. “My mother went missing a few days ago, Miss (Y/L/N). She didn’t say goodbye or said where she was going. She only left me clues, here and there that I’ll have to use to find her”

Worry got a hold of you, the same worry you had recognized on Enola’s eyes. Eudoria. Where would she have gone? Was she fine? Not knowing you realized, was terrible. As you thought about what Enola had just said, another question got to your mind. “If your mother is missing, who are you running away from, Enola?”

“My brothers. Sherlock and Mycroft. Well, especially Mycroft, because he wants to send me to a finishing school, that prepares young women for society” the clear disgust in her voice would have made you laugh if you weren’t so worried.

“Where will you go to find your mother, Enola? What plans do you have? Do you want me to go with you?” all questions left your mouth in such a rush, that it seemed like you had just spit out the words one after the other.

The young girl smiled kindly and got up, going to sit right next to you on the couch you were on. She grabbed your hands in hers gently and squeezed them tightly. “Thank you for offering to go with me, to support me, Miss (Y/L/N). Is more than my own brothers have done. But this is something I have to do alone, I have to be the one to find her and know why she left. And I think that the less you know, the better it will be”

Oh, that girl. You smiled while you looked at her. Eudoria had raised her to be a force of nature and had achieved that goal, brilliantly. You squeezed her hands back in affection. “When will you leave?”

“At sundown today” she said, so quickly that you realized she had already thought about everything. At least, on that phase of that 'plan' to find her dear mother. “Will walk to the train station, not the closest one but the next, and get on the first train in the morning tomorrow. In this way, I’m quite sure my brothers won’t be able to understand my intentions soon enough as to catch me”

“Very well” you passed your arms around her and hugged her tight, sighting. “Let’s get you some food for your journey, then. If you find Eudoria and she finds out I let you almost starve I’ll get in trouble”

Enola laughed as she hugged you back.

════ •⊰❂⊱• ═══════ •⊰❂⊱• ════

Enola had left at sundown of the previous day, just like she had said she would. Carrying nothing more than money her mother had left her, a bag of food you had given her and her favorite book of yours, Origin of Species, you had watched her walk away into the night alone, as her name backwards spelled.

You had spent the whole night incapable of sleeping, wondering if she was fine and if she hadn’t encountered any dangers as she travelled on foot. You worried so much but all you could do, was hope that she would stay safe and find her mother. Soon.

On the next day, you had spent the morning and the beginning of the afternoon distracted. Tried to complete some of your works, but couldn’t. Your mind would always go back to the gone girl and her well being.

You had frustratedly been trying to read the same page of one of your books for fifteen minutes, without being capable of keeping any attention on it, when for the second time in a long time, you heard knocks at the front door.

You got up instantly, leaving the book forgotten upon the closest table as you rushed to the door, already smiling at the thought at Enola had came around on her idea of going alone and was back to ask you to go with her.

When you opened the door though, you realized that it wasn’t Enola who had knocked. It had been a man. A man you had never seen before.

He was tall, it was the first thing you noticed. The fact that he had no beard, was the second. And then, details of him came rushing into your mind through your eyes. He had short, curly hair, bright eyes and memorable features. He wore a white shirt, a brown vest with small white details in it and a brown suit as well as trousers of the same color. No tie which was insula for men that well dressed.

“May I help you?” you frowned at him, holding the wooden door firmly with one of your hands. To receive the visit of men, had always made you nervous. You lived alone, after all, and the world was becoming a more violent place day by day.

“I hope so” he said, which such confidence on his voice that it actually made you raise your eyebrows at him. His eyes were fixed in you, analyzing your face with much intensity. Far more than you thought it would be appropriate. “I’m Sherlock Holmes. And I suppose you are Miss (Y/L/N), my sister’s science teacher”

You took a moment to watch him again, trying to put into your mind that the man in front of you was the Sherlock Holmes, the detective who was making a name on England, solving the most incredible and difficult cases on his own. After long seconds of silence where you only stared at each other, you cleaned your throat. “I am in fact Enola’s teacher, Mr. Holmes. How did you know?”

“I found her works, studies on great science authors. They all had writings on the borders where she constantly mentioned a desire to please and make a 'Miss (Y/L/N)' proud. It only took me a visit to one of the closest houses to ask who it was and get pointed in your house’s direction” he explained, in an impersonal tone quite fitting to a detective. He saw the incisive tone look you were giving him, filled with suspicion, and smiled slightly as he looked at his feet, before focusing his eyes back on yours. “I came here because Enola ran away from home, Miss (Y/L/N). And I think she would come here to see you if she needed help”

You sighted, looking into his eyes. You remembered Enola’s words, where she had told you Mycroft was the one who wanted to send her to a finishing school, the one who had made her run away. If that had been Mycroft Holmes at your door, you would have denied being her teacher or even knowing the girl, wanting to cut the conversation short. But that was Sherlock Holmes. Enola hadn’t expressed much anger towards him and honestly, he would for sure find out the truth on his own. He was the best detective there was in the nowadays. You tell him, would just spin faster the process and you would be able to send him away sooner.

“Come in, Mr. Holmes” you took a step aside, motioning for him to come in. He did, in slow calculated steps and once he was inside you closed the door, sighting. You expected him to say something, but he didn’t. Not at first. Instead he walked around just like Enola had done, eyes floating through the uncountable books you had, all in a complete mess over the tables, piles and more piles of them . “She was indeed here, your sister”

He turned his head to look at you, a genuine smile on his lips. “I was already certain of that” then he walked towards one of the tables, fingers running through one of works. The paper was a bit kneaded, but he didn’t seem to care. “The works you did with Enola, the amount of things she learned… they were quite impressive”

You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to contain your surprise to know you had impressed the most impressive man of all, Sherlock Holmes. You waited for him to speak again, but he didn’t, just kept on walking through the room and inspecting your things with his perceptive eyes. “I don’t know where she is, Mr. Holmes. She left many hours ago”

He placed his hands on the pockets of his trousers, turning completely to you the resemblance of his previous smile on his lips. “And I believe she didn’t tell you what were her plans?”

“No and if she had, I wouldn’t tell you” you said and went to sit on a chair, at the table he had been studying with his eyes previously.

“Mind if I take off my suit?” he asked simply. You just nodded for him to go on, not giving it much thought. He took off his brown suit in gracious movements, then placed it in one of the other empty chairs close by. “May I ask why you wouldn’t tell me my sister’s plans, Miss (Y/L/N), if you knew them?”

“Enola said your brother wants to send her to a finishing school” you replied, watching as one after the other, he folded the sleeves of his white shirt until they got close to his elbow. Unconsciously, you noticed how his muscles could be seen from under his shirt. “To try to turn such a brilliant, incredibly smart young girl into a 'lady society' would be a terrible mistake. She shouldn’t be forced to do it” at the end of that sentence, Sherlock Holmes had grabbed two books in his hands and after reading the tiles, he went to the shelves and started placing them there. “Excuse me, what do you think you’re doing?”

“I am organizing your books, Miss (Y/L/N). In alphabetical order, of course. Like I’ve noticed you do after a quick inspection” he smiled at you again, placing those two in place. Then, he went to the table and grabbed a few more. “I personally agree with you. I don’t think Enola should be sent to such a place, but she is my brother’s ward. It is out of my hands” he read the titles, then turned around to return to the shelves. “I suppose you weren’t raised as a lady of society also, for you live by yourself apparently and your academic interests”

“You’re wrong” you said with a little smile taking a hold of your lips, and that made him stop organizing the books and look at you with a frown. She shouldn’t be wrong often. “I was raised to be a lady, until the point where my parents died. After that, I started to live on my own, for I had no more relatives. It gave me a chance to become who I wanted to be, instead of whom I was being carved into”

“You chose your own path” he said with a bigger smile this time and when you nodded in agreement, he returned his look at the shelves. “How did your parents die?”

“They were murdered” you tried to swallow the knot on your throat. Even though they had been controlling parents to the most when regarding your future, they were still your parents, and you loved and missed them. “The police never found out by whom”

“The police can be quite… inefficient” he turned back around with his hands already empty. “I’m really sorry”

“Thank you” you said, squeezing your lips in a thin line as old memories came to surface. Things you hadn’t you thought about in a long, long time. “If there isn’t anything else, may I escort you to the door?”

Your polite way of sending him away made him smile.

He placed the books he had just gathered back on the table, grabbed his suit and accompanied you towards the door, not bothering to dress the piece again. You opened the door and he stepped out, turning to look at you once more. His eyes were curious, interesting. Full of something you couldn’t quite identify, so mysterious as his sister’s.

“If you find Enola, don’t stop her from trying to find your mother” you told him, trying to repress the emotion in your voice. “Not knowing what happened… can be quite disturbing”

“I promise, stop her, is not my intention” he looked down at his feet once again, as if he was thinking for a brief moment, before his eyes went back to yours. “I could try to find out what happened to your parents. Who was their murderer”

“I don’t have much money, Mr. Holmes” you told him, your turn now to look down at your feet.

“I never said you would have to pay” he replied and with that your gaze snapped back up to meet his, and that made him chuckle. You couldn’t deny he looked quite beautiful when doing that. “You were there for my sister through much time and when she needed help, when I wasn’t. That is enough paying for me. Think about it, Miss (Y/L/N). After I find my sister and discover where is my mother, I am willing to take over your case. If you want me to” he nodded his head in your direction in a silent appreciation for your reception in your house and began to turn to walk away, but stopped himself in the middle of such movement. “May I know your first name?”

You smiled softly at that. “It’s (Y/N), Mr. Holmes”

“Please, call me Sherlock”

And after that, he walked away.

[kireimarkeu]

We got Married!; mk.l

[johnny]

character: oc x husband!mark lee

summary; where you and mark join a television show as husband and wife.

genre; fluff!

word count: 5.6k

a/n; i wasn’t really planning to write a wgm ver for mark, but i had so much ideas suddenly come to me so here it is :) i think i’ve grown and has written different kinds of fics, and i feel really confident in this one! i think you can see the difference if you read the johnny one compared to this hehe :) i really hope you guys like this because i reallyyyy did!!!

also, thank you guys for 500 followers! i havent done much but repost old works, but still got followers lmfaooo 

also a little note: bold + italic means mark is in the studio watching the show together

italic means questions are being asked to y/n and mark in the interview area

enjoy you guys :)

Episode 22

“Hello, I am NCT Mark and I am 22 years old,” a smile adorns his lips as the boy next to you bow at the camera.

“Hello, I am Mark’s wife, Y/N, and I am 21 years old,” you greet, bowing politely at the camera.

“This is the first time we have very young guests coming to our show,” one of them said.

“I think many fans are wondering why you had gotten married at such a young age?” one asked.

Another continued, “yeah, I don’t think it’s common in Korea,” they said, “I heard that Mark used to live in Canada for some time, is it common to get married at such a young age, there?” 

Mark chuckles, shaking his head, “No, no, we both decided to get married young because we have always talked about spending our 20s together.”

“How long have the both of you been married?”

Mark looks at you before answering, “We got married just a few months ago, actually.”

“To be exact, it has been about 4 months now,” you continued.

“How long did you guys date?”

“We dated for about 3 years, before we both decided that we wanted to get married straight away,” your husband answers.

“Wait, 3 years? But the news of you guys dating came out a year ago, though?”

“We dated secretly~” Mark replied shyly.

“You guys are the youngest couple to be on our show, has anyone been opposed to the idea of you guys getting married at such a young age?”

Your hand lands on your husbands shoulders, “to start, of course we received a lot of hate comments online when the news came out, but we knew this was what we wanted, so we never really doubted for a second.”

Mark agrees with your words, “yeah, our parents were also a little skeptical by our plans but we were adults and had explained clearly why we wanted to get married at such a young age.”

You hum along with Mark’s words. 

“Tell us honestly, was it hard dating someone when you are one of the biggest boy group in Korea?” one of them asked Mark.

Mark though for a moment, he wasn’t sure if he should spill out the truth or just butter everything up. “Well, of course it was. I knew what I was getting into and so did Y/N,” he says, “and as expected we knew that if we get caught, there would be tons of comments about us.”

“How did you overcome the mean comments?”

“Of course, we had both shared tears because of those comments, but we promised to never leave each other because of what others think.”

The scene started with the both of you eating breakfast at the dinner table. 

The casts of We Got Married started laughing at the sight of Mark’s bed head.

“You know, we really need to go grocery shopping,” you tell your husband who was sitting before you. 

He hums, “we’ll go this afternoon, I need to get some things too,”

You swallow your food, “what things, babe?”

“Doyoungie’s birthday is just around the corner, and I wanna bake him a cake,” he tells you. 

You squint your eyes at the boy, “bake? Are you sure you won’t burn down our kitchen?”

He rolls his eyes at your words, “I’m a grown up, babe, I definitely know how to bake,”

“Didn’t Mark went trending for a while when he cooked eggs?” the members laugh. 

“I remember that!”

.•° ✿ °•.

The scene changed to the both of you in the grocery store. You were searching for ingredients that you had written down in your phone. 

You would often forget items, so before you leave the house, you would type down all the things you would need in your phone.

Mark on the other hand, would get food on impulse- mostly snacks and instant food. You don’t mind, but space is limited, every time your husband joins you, he would overspend and in the end, you wouldn’t have space to keep all the extra food.

“Baby, you know we don’t need all these,” you sigh tiredly, your hand gesturing to the different types of chips laying in the cart. “Just pick one, honey, we can’t have everything from the store,” you say exasperatedly. 

Mark pouts at you but quickly removes most of the chips until there was 2 left. You decided to close an eye since you saw one of the new chips that you had been dying to try out. 

“Have you gotten the ingredients for the cake?”

Mark raises his eyebrows at your words, his hands digging through the pile of food in the cart before pulling out a box of cake mix. 

Episode 27

“Let’s welcome the couple who has received good remarks after coming to our show!” one of them said, followed by a series of claps. 

“Wah~ I really did not expect to receive so much nice comments,” Mark says with his hands placed on his chest, “Thank you so much everyone, y/n and I spent the whole night reading all of your comments.”

“Actually, I’m curious,” one of them quickly adds in, “how did the baking go for your member’s birthday?”

“I ended up burning the cake, so Y/N helped me from scratch,” he says sheepishly.

The casts laugh in unison. 

“Did Doyoung know?”

Mark shakes his head, “I lied and told him that I was the one who made the cake, but he didn’t believed me, so I ended up telling him the truth,” Mark says, flustered.

The scene started with the both of you walking in the park. Strings of coos left the casts lips when they saw you wearing a dress with your hair braided to one side. 

With squinted eyes, the both of you tried to find a good shaded spot in the park before putting down a disposable picnic mat, placing each of your shoes on each corner to prevent it from flying around.

You place the picnic basket in the middle of the mat while Mark took a seat, enjoying the view. You took out all the food that you had prepared a few hours prior. 

“Do you need help, babe?” you hear your husband ask from beside you. 

You shake your head, “I’m good,”

After you had settled all the food down, you finally let your legs stretch before you, leaning your head on your husband’s shoulder. 

Mark’s hand that was previously resting on the plastic picnic mat, finds yours, lacing his fingers with you, “this is nice isn’t it?” 

You nod, letting out a satisfied hum. You point towards his phone, “I think you have some songs prepared for this particular moment, am I right?”

“Oh, Mark do you actually have multiple playlists for different occasion?” one of the cast asks. 

Mark nods sheepishly, “I think it just became a habit of mine,”

“I’m not surprised though- he is in the music industry after all, I think it is pretty common, right?”

“I suppose so? It just doesn’t feel right to me if the music doesn’t match with the vibes.”

Mark reaches out for his phone, clicking on a particular playlist called ‘when the sun’s out’. Soon, the first song started playing softly in the background. 

A content sigh leaves your lips, “you know, if I had to choose one thing I’m grateful for you, it has to be your taste in music,” you tell him, quickly pressing your lips against his cheeks softly. 

Mark turns red at your gesture, his hand clutching yours tighter.

“Now I’m curious, what is your favourite song at the moment,” one of them asks, turning to face Mark.

“I really like Justin Bieber a lot,” he answers, “But right now, I can’t stop listening to Good Days by SZA.”

An hour has past by, most of the food already gobbled up by you two. 

“Babe,” Mark calls, poking you on the arm. 

“Hm?”

“Aren’t you tired?” he asks you, “you woke up super early to make food.”

A soft smile spreads across your lips, “a little, why?”

Your husband softly pats his lap, “come lie down and nap a little. The wind feels really good right now,”

You cleaned everything up and made space for yourself. You comfortably laid your head on Mark’s lap. 

“You know,” you started, “I really wish I could look at you right now, but the sun’s too bright.”

Mark rolls his eyes, “don’t be annoying and go to sleep,” he says, his finger softly flicking your cheek. 

A soft laughter left you before you finally shut your eyes, dozing off quietly while laying in your lover’s lap. 

Once Mark realises that you were asleep, he quietly raises his hands to cover your face from the sun. 

“Awww! You are such a romantic, Mark!”

When you realise the bright light was gone, you open an eye to look at your lover who was looking at his phone, with his hand still high up to cover you from the bright sun. 

A smirk adorns your lips, your eyes shutting close. You grab his hands, startling your husband. Lacing your fingers with his, you bring them down to your chest. 

“I don’t want your arms to be in pain,” you mumble, stroking his hands with your thumb. 

You hear Mark scoff at your statement, “I think I can handle it, babe. But, whatever you say.”

A few moments later, you feel his sculpted hands playing with your hair. He would occasionally massage your scalp or tangle your hair between his fingers. 

You didn’t say a word, feeling comfortable. 

The episode ended with Mark pressing a long kiss on your forehead, before pulling away. 

“This couple is too cute!” 

“It’s really unfair that I’m still single, this couple makes me want to get married so bad!” one of them agrees.

Episode 35

“After a long time, the couple is finally back again for another episode!” the cast says excitedly, “the last time they were here, the couple went on a romantic picnic date, leaving us all with envy!”

Mark laughs at their comment.

The scene started with the both of you entering the SM building. You had a cap and a mask on, hopefully to cover your identity from the fans waiting outside.

Although the news of you guys being a married couple had came out a few months ago, there were times where you did not feel like getting your pictures taken. Which, to be honest, was a rare moment for you and Mark since he is one of the biggest boy group.

You held onto your husband’s hands who was leading the way to the practice room. 

Once he finds an available room, Mark quickly puts his things down on an empty table. 

“Okay, so first we need to do some stretching so we don’t hurt ourselves when we dance later,” Mark tells you.

“Why did you want to dance?”

“To be honest, I really hate working out,” you tell them truthfully, “so I asked Mark if he could teach me some dance choreography,”

“Are you good at dancing?”

You laugh, “absolutely not! I have never danced in my life, so this is my first time.”

“She’s too adorable!”

“Babe, can we do something super easy?” you request, taking off your cap since it was covering your vision. 

Your husband nods, “yeah, we’re gonna do Kick It today.”

You wince at that. Kick It is the easiest he could think of? You didn’t say anything, following whatever your husband says. 

“Okay, so, we won’t do like- the whole choreography,” your husband enunciate. Just as you were about to let out a relieved sigh, Mark continues, “we’ll do from the first chorus onwards.”

Your mouth went wide. 

The casts laugh at your reaction.

“Okay, so the chorus kinda goes like this-” he shows you, looking at you through the mirror, “you know it right? you’ve done it before,”

You were at a loss of words, “I mean- I guess? But it’s not perfect so you still have to teach me!” you whine. 

Why is he going so fast? you though to yourself.

“Okay, okay,” he chuckles. 

For the next few hours, Mark teaches you the choreography step by step. 

Your husband was standing behind you, his hands resting on yours, positioning your hands at the right position. 

However, you ruined the romantic moment by stepping away from the male and turning to face him with furrowed eyebrows. 

The casts let out a series of grumbled sighs. 

“Why did Y/N step out? It was such a romantic moment!”

“Exactly!” the other adds on.

“Can we please take a break?” you whine, wiping the sweat that was rolling down your forehead, “I’m so tired,” you huff out, throwing yourself at your husband as he captures you in his arms. 

Mark chuckles, agreeing. He grabs your hand, pulling you to sit down on the empty chair. He quickly runs to the other side of the room to grab two bottles of water, opening one of them and passing it to you. 

He opens one for himself before gulping half of the bottle down his throat.

After you had gulped the whole bottle down, you tried to catch your breath. “I didn’t know it would be this tiring,” you confess, “is this what you go through everyday?”

The boy chuckles, “yeah, but a shorter period.”

You roll your eyes at his statement, “Okay, show-off,” you joke. 

Meanwhile, in the background, Kick It was playing on repeat. An idea pop in your head. 

“Wanna know something?” you asked your boyfriend. 

He nods.

“I’ve been practicing your rap part of this song,” you tell him, “I can rap your part word for word without any mistakes,” you say arrogantly, a smirk forming on your lips. 

“Oh yeah?” he challenges, “my part is coming up, I would love to see you try, babe.”

You stand up from your sitting position with your bottle of water in hand. Getting ready for the verse, you bring your hand that was holding the bottle to your mouth- pretending it was a mic. 

“I’m really excited to see Y/N rap,”

“Me too, she seems so confident,” the other adds on.

When the verse started playing, you rapped your husband’s part. 

Mark started laughing hysterically when you started mumbling random words. “Dude!” your husband laughs, his hand slapping his knee multiple times when you rap incoherently. 

His laughter only ceased when the music stopped. “Oh my god,” he says breathlessly, his fingers wiping the tears from his eyes. “I think you should replace me in NCT,” he jokes. 

Just as you were about to reply, you heard a group come in. You turn around swiftly, your eyes widening when you see the familiar girls walk in. 

“Oh, oh,” Wendy cheers, “what’s the couple doing in the practice room alone?”

“Oh my god, is that Red Velvet?” one of them asks, looking over at Mark with widened eyes. 

Mark laughs and nods his head. 

“Oh.. perhaps, you could ask them for their autograph the next time you see them,” they ask sheepishly, “my bias is Seulgi,” they quickly add on.

Mark laughs harder at that, “sure, if I see them around, I’ll make sure to ask for their autograph,”

“Oh hello,” you greet the girls, they bow politely back at you. 

Your husband chuckles awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as he greets the girls. “I’m just practicing with Y/N”

Mark never got the chance to properly meet them in private- it was either with his members or never. Hence, he felt a little nervous seeing them in private.

Irene raises her eyebrows, “are you guys performing for something?” she asks, pointing at the both of you. 

You shake your head, “I just wanted to learn for fun,” 

Wendy nods, “are you guys going to practice some more?” she asks, looking at the both you expectantly, “cause’, if you guys want to, go ahead. Our choreographer is going to be late so we have time to spare.”

Mark checks the time on his watch before shaking his head, realising it was already pretty late and didn’t want to disturb the girls with their schedule. 

“No, it’s fine, we have to go anyway. I don’t want to steal your hour,” he says politely.

Ever since Mark had debut years ago, it was very hard for this group to book the practice room. So, whenever they managed to get the room, they would often use the room until the next person comes in.

You and Mark start packing up your things as the girls settle down and starts stretching. 

The girls bid the both of you goodbyes as you quickly left the room. 

“Oh my god,” you gasped, your hands clutching onto your husband’s arm as he looks at you in astonishment. “I just met Red Velvet,” you say to the boy next to you. 

You hit his arm multiple times, “I literally met Red Velvet! I even talked to them, babe!” you squealed, hitting his arms harder. That was until Mark grabbed your hands for you to stop hitting his poor arm. 

“Y/N hasn’t met Red Velvet?” they ask. Mark shakes his head, no. “Why not?”

“I knew she liked Red Velvet but she never really asked me if she could meet them,” Mark explains, “and we had this conversation before- meeting the other people in my company,”

“What about?”

“Y/N told me that she didn’t want to take advantage of my privilege, even though when I told her it was fine,” Mark explains. “So she never really asked about wanting to meet Red Velvet, or any of the other people in my company.”

“Jeez- babe,” he chuckles, putting your hand down and instead wrapping his arm around your shoulder, tugging you closer to him. “You were never that excited when you see me,” he jokes. 

The both of you reach the ground floor, stepping out of the elevator. 

“That’s because you’re not the prettiest girl group in the world!” you reply cheekily, a smirk playing on your lips.

“How long have you been a fan of Red Velvet?”

You hum, thinking back all the years you have been listening to their songs and collecting their PC Cards. 

“I think it was a few months after debut?” you doubtfully reply. “It was when I had just came to Korea for school and one of their music was playing in a store, and I really liked it!”

Episode 43

“Ah, our Mark Lee! Where did you go?” the cast whined, tugging on his arms. 

Mark cackle shyly, hiding his face slightly, “I’ve been very busy these days~” he says shyly, “my group had just finished promoting our recent full album,” he explains.

The casts cheers. 

“I heard you guys won first for many awards!” one of them says, “congratulations to NCT! As expected, our talented group with many talents and visuals,” they compliment.

“Thank you,” Mark gives his signature grin, “actually, I felt bad for not being able to come on here for so long, so I actually brought our albums to gift it to you guys,” Mark says, reaching for the stacks of albums in the bag. 

He hands each one of them the signed and personalised albums to the casts. 

“I can’t wait to listen to this!”

“Is Y/N featuring in any of the songs?” they joke.

This time, the show started with you in the kitchen. You were cooking dinner since some of his members were coming over. 

Mark on the other hand was sitting in the living room. He was seated on the floor, with papers spread all over the table. He had one of his hand holding a pen, swirling it around, while the other was pressed against his cheek. 

“I wanted to produce a song with my own lyrics for this upcoming album,” Mark explains to the cast since they seemed to be a little confused. 

“Have you produced a song with your own lyrics before?”

He nods, “I have, but I received help from others. This time I want to make a song that only has my own lyrics,” Mark explains.

“I never really got to ask an idol this question- but, is it hard to have your songs to be featured in an album?” one of them asks. 

The spotlight was on Mark. 

Mark nods, “it really depends. They usually focus on the music itself- since lyrics can be changed, but if the lyrics are too personal, most of the time they don’t really let you put it in a group album.”

“Did your song manage to be in the album?” one asks. 

“Nope,” mark chuckles. 

The casts laughs with Mark. 

“Because it was too personal?”

Mark simply shrugs, and points at the screen to continue watching. 

A heavy sigh leaves past the boy’s lips. He was staring blankly at the piece of paper. 

The camera manages to capture everything that was written on the piece of paper. Messy scribbles was the only thing that could be seen. 

“Babe,” you called. Mark quickly looks up at you, a pout on his lips. “Make sure you clean the table before the guys come,” you tell him, pointing to the mess on the coffee table. 

This morning, Johnny had contacted Mark saying that he misses him and wants to visit. You quickly agreed, since you haven’t seen the boys in so long.

He hums, slamming his head softly on the coffee table, a groan coming out of him when he hit his forehead a little too hard. 

A small chuckle left your lips when you heard his groans, “inspiration will come, babe,” you advise as you wipe the plates, “be patient.”

Mark turns his head so his cheek was pressed against the table as he stares at you. 

“You look so pretty,” Mark mumbles, but you hear him clearly. 

“Does Mark compliment you often?”

You nod slightly, “I wouldn’t say, all the time,” you exaggerate, “but it was definitely enough for me to know he loves me,” you giggle.

Mark continues to stare at you as you work on the food you were making. He was so deeply in love with you that sometimes he wonders what life would be like if he never met you. 

He lays his eyes on you for the next 15 minutes. It definitely didn’t go unnoticed by you- but you had forgotten about it once you were properly focused on cutting the onions. 

With heart eyes, a sweet smile spreads across your husbands lips. 

The casts all coo at the romantic scene. 

Mark finally sits up straight. With a grin plastered on his face, he grabs a clean sheet of paper and starts writing his feelings down. Surprisingly, he didn’t need a break, he continued writing for the next 30 minutes, satisfied with the lyrics. 

“Did you write a song about Y/N?”

Mark nods, “I did, it was mostly how I felt about being with her.”

“Earlier you said that the song didn’t manage to be in the album, will you be posting the song on another platform?”

Mark scratches his head, uncertain, “I’ll have to ask my company about that,” he jokes.

Episode 47

“We’re finally back with our favourite couple! How are you, Mark?”

“Just fine, I’m preparing some things with my group, so I have been a little busy now a days,” Mark replies. 

The casts sighs, “you’ve been working really hard, Mark.”

Mark simply chuckles awkwardly, unsure of what to say. 

The show started with you sitting on the familiar chair in the building. 

“Oh? The chair seems familiar?”

You had one of your legs crossed over the other with your right hand, holding your phone. You were scrolling through Instagram, hoping it would lessen your boredom. 

After a few minutes, you put your phone down when you realised you’ve been scrolling for minutes now, but nothing had caught your eye on your feed. You let out an exhausted sigh, resting the palm of your hand against your cheek. 

15 minutes later, your eyes widen when you see the familiar boys step out of the elevator. 

You quickly stand up, walking up to the boys. 

“Y/N!” they called, “oh my god, it has been forever since I last saw you!”

You giggle. Your eyes search for your husband but he was no where to be seen. 

“He’s still upstairs, talking to the producer,” Johnny says when he notices you looking around. 

You send him a smile, “I see. Are you guys going back home now?”

The rest of the boys were already walking away after tapping your shoulder to bid you goodbye without interrupting your conversation with Johnny. 

“Jungwoo and Yuta are going to get dinner, the rest of us are heading home- it has been a long day, we’re all exhausted,” Johnny says dramatically.

The boy never fails to make you smile, “I know, Mark told me about your schedule.”

Johnny smiles, “also, Mark had a rough day,” he tells you. Your eyebrows raised in curiosity. You wondered what had happen. 

“Did you know that Johnny had told Y/N about your day?”

He shakes his head, “I didn’t know, but I am thankful for him for always looking out for me.”

It was only 30 minutes later when you saw your husband step out of the elevator. Instead of his usual jog, he was stomping towards your direction. With the way he was walking and the all black outfit- it made him look even more intimidating then he already was.

Johnny was right, he definitely had a bad day today.

“Hi, baby,” you say softly, when he finally stands in front of you. You softly rub his arm, hoping it would calm him down a little, “you okay?”

Mark only hums, tugging on his bag when you attempt to take it from him. “i’ll carry it,” he says. You kept quiet, not wanting to worsen his temper. 

The both of you quietly walk out of the building. 

“Can we take a walk?” you ask, looking up at your husband.

He looks down at you and raises his eyebrows. Truthfully, he was already exhausted, but he would do anything you wanted. Mark shrugs, going with the flow.

The both of you started your walk in silence. Your husband had both hands tucked in his pockets with his lips pursed. You took multiple glances at the boy, wondering how you should comfort him. 

After hesitating for a while, you wait until he has his hands out of his pockets. When you notice that he finally has his warm hands untucked, you instantly grab it in yours. 

A smile form on your lips, when you hold on tightly onto his hands. 

“Aw, she was trying to comfort you!”

“Wanna talk about it?” you speak up, tightening your grip on his hands. 

Mark smiles, “not really, just thankful that I have you,” he says. You feel his thumb softly stroke the back of your hand, “you’re too good to me, Y/N.”

You scoff, “what do you mean? You are literally my soulmate, whenever you fall, I go down with you,” you reassure him. You nudge his shoulder with yours, “I’ll always be the shoulder you can lean on. No matter how bad it is, I’ll always be by your side.”

“How do you usually comfort Mark during his bad days?”

“He doesn’t talk about his feelings often,” you say, letting out a short chuckle. “But it’s pretty obvious, he isn’t very discreet with his emotions,” you laugh, nudging the boy next to you. 

“Depending on how bad it is, I would try to leave him alone until he calls out for me.”

“Why won’t you talk about how you feel?”

“I have always grown up with this mindset- never give off negative energy to anyone who hasn’t done anything wrong,” he blurts out. “I feel like a burden whenever I would talk about my problems to anyone- not just Y/N.”

“I feel very thankful whenever he talks about his problems,” you say to the camera. “I feel proud that I am the one he could lean on.”

Episode 50

“Mark Lee is back!” 

Series of claps could be heard from the room. 

“I heard you had received multiple awards from MAMA!”

Another agrees, “that’s right! NCT won Favourite Male Group and Worldwide Fans' Choice Top 10! Congratulations to NCT!” 

Another series of claps filled the room. 

“Thank you so much! My group wouldn’t have received the award without all the loving support from all my fans,” Mark expresses his gratitude. 

The show started with you sitting on the couch comfortably. You were deeply concentrated on watching something in front of you. 

“What is she watching?”

The camera zooms out until the casts takes notice the television planted on the wall. The casts recognizes the ceremony playing on the television. 

You were waiting for your husband’s group to start performing so you can take videos and pictures. 

After watching the ceremony, you recognize the introduction to one of your husband’s songs. You sit up straight in excitement, fishing out your phone, ready to film his performance. 

You had purposely took bad photos of your husband so you could laugh at them later with him. 

15 minutes later, the performance ended. Even though you’re backstage, you still softly clapped at the end of his performance. 

“Everytime I see Mark perform, I feel so shocked that we have such a talented guy on our show,” one of them says, making Mark chuckle. 

“He was born to be a star,” another comments.

After a few more performances by other groups, it was time for the award ceremony. 

You were extremely anxious for this. You hoped all the times that Mark had came home in the middle of the night only to leave again early in the morning or how he would injure himself but would still perform with full energy for his fans would be worth it. 

You bit your lip anxiously, your palms had turned sweaty from the long wait of the awaited name. 

“The Best Male Group of 2020 goes to...” the announcer trails off, opening the card that held the winner. 

“Congratulations to BTS for being the Best Male Group of the year!”

You let out a huff, throwing your head back tiredly. 

“You seemed really stressed,”

You nod, agreeing with them, “truthfully, I have seen Mark work really hard this year. It pained me to see him suffer so much and not being able to tell anyone.”

“Next, let’s see the nominated groups for Favourite Male Group!” says the announcer. The screen fills with different groups with their names. 

You take a deep breath, sitting up again to watch the ceremony. Your lips purse in concentration.

“The Favourite Male Group of 2020 goes to...” the announcer trails off, opening the golden card. 

A smile forms on their lips, “Congratulations to NCT for being the Favourite Male Group of 2020!”

You let out a gasp, looking at the stylists who was also watching the ceremony. 

“Oh my god!” you squeal, “they said NCT, right? I didn’t hear it wrongly, right?” you ask everyone in the room. 

The stylists nods, “its NCT!”

Your hand goes over your mouth in shock. 

“Her reaction is so adorable,”

You watch the boys walk up on stage. Taeyong is the one to step forward to give his speech, followed by Johnny in english. 

Finally your husband steps up. 

“Wow,” he starts, his fans starts to scream louder. “this is so crazy. I want to start by thanking Lee Sooman for giving me the opportunity to be part of NCT. Next, thank you to our stylist and coordinator for the awesome outfits- we would never be able to win this award without the unique outfits and make up!” 

He takes a deep breathe, “and of course, our dearest fans. Thank you for always supporting us, and giving us the opportunity to be on stage with this award,” he smiles when he hears his fans cheers. “Lastly, my wife who has always been by my side even during my ugliest side. Thank you for never giving up on me always bringing the best out of me.”

A grin forms on your lips, you soon became flustered from the coos coming from around you. 

“I can’t wait to meet our little one soon. I love you, Y/N. Thank you,” he ends his speech, stepping off stage. 

“Wait! What do you mean little one?!”

“I have been pregnant for 15 weeks now,” you say happily. “We have been trying for a baby for a while now, and we are officially having a kid soon!”

The whole casts starts freaking out. 

“Why didn’t you tell us?!” they scolded Mark. 

“We would like to ask the fans for the upmost support,” Mark adds. “With that, this would be our last episode as a We Got Married Couple.”

“This is a huge surprise!”

“We had so much memories on the show,” Mark admits. 

“I had such a fun time on here, but for now, Mark and I had agreed that we want to put all of our focus on our baby,” you added.

“Wow... this is a happy ending,” the casts says. 

“We would like to thank Mark Lee and Y/N for their contribution to the show,” they added. 

“We really enjoyed watching you and Y/N being cute!”

“Thank you so much,” Mark bow, “it was an honour to come on this show,” Mark says, “I had so much fun, thank you so much for everything.”

“Thank you so much Mark. We hope you have a wonderful journey from now on and congratulations to your first child!”

[chocominnie]

One Last Time 02  —  Pjm. (M)

⇢ pairing: Jimin X Reader

⇢ Genre: Idol!Jimin, Exbf!Jimin, model!reader, sad au, fluff, tons of smut, angst

⇢ Synopsis: Your idol ex boyfriend Jimin cheated on you. You two have been broken up for a while now and the media has been keeping track of you and him. You’re trying to get over him, but the things that happen inbetween makes you re-think the entire breakup, and so does Jimin…

⇢ Song : xxxxx

⇢ Previous : 00   01

⇢ Word Count : 

⇢ Warnings: dominant jimin, makeout sessions, this is honestly a sad angsty au, cheating, pregnancy, unprotected and protected sex, a bunch of sex, no really a LOT of sexual themes too, I know I’m forgetting some but sorry in advance!

⇢ Copyright: please do NOT repost, translate, or modify my works in any way, shape or form, on any platform. If found doing so , it is considered as plagiarism and appropriate LEGAL action will be taken

⇢ Authors note: This is my mini series for the summer! Get your tissues, things to take your anger out on, and sit back and watch the drama unfold. Shall we begin?

Your eyes shoot open, chest heaving heavily as you let out a blood curdling scream. Not this again. The same dream over and over again each night. It leaves you sleepless. The time on the clock on your nightstand reads 3:04 am. Just only four hours ago is when you fell asleep. But a full night’s sleep hasn’t happened for a year so why would it matter anyways.

Once you catch your breath you unplug your phone from the charger and read some of the notifications. From your window, the night-time critters sing their songs along with the persistant owl that’s somewhere around the apartment complex. You’d only noticed him, the owl, just a few months ago when your cat started meowing with his hoots. 

A missed call from your uncle. 

Immediately you unlock your phone and dial the number. Bringing your index finger to your mouth you gently nip on it waiting for it to answer, The rings are agonizing to you. If something has happened you only wish and pray it wasn’t as bad as you think. He’s the only parental figure left in your life.

‘‘ Princess! Hello I was just calling to speak to you earlier. But I realized you are five hours ahead of me and you had probably went to sleep.’‘

His soothing voice calms your emotions making you let out a tiny breath of air. Thank god.

‘’Hey Charlie.” You sigh. Looking towards your left, you spot Clara purring quietly next to you. You can’t help but to smile while bringing a hand over to rub her head with your thumb.  She’s so small under the shining moonlight from your window.

Her white coat shines brightly amongst her, making you remember the first night you had brought her home. All she did was sleep, and it worried you because you had no prior expierence caring for anything, let alone a small animal. Clara only drank kitten milk and slept back then. Occasionally being awake enough to nip at your fingers whenever you pet or touched her.

Now she’s a bit bigger and walks around the apartment like she owns the place. Quite the little attitude she has, but its too damn cute for you to scold her whenever she does something wrong. 

“ Yes I did fall asleep from after a gathering at someone’s house.’’ You continue on, bringing your knees to your chest after opening the curtain of your window fully.

The moons brightness illuminates the entire room, but not so bright for you to complain though. ‘’ Oh- was it Jimin’s? Tell him I said hell-’’

You bite your lip hard at his name. He doesn’t know and you wont even dare to let him know. Knowing him, your uncle would have a fit and oppose to come back to Seoul to ‘set the record straight.’ to Jimin. That’s the last thing you want to do, cause trouble.

‘‘ It was his brother’s house warming party.” You say, lowering your tone in your voice. You look at the nightstand for a couple of seconds just before opening the top drawer of the wooden, polished piece. Your hands shakily pull out a picture of you two together.

It was taken at  Marne-la-Vallée, France right infront of Cinderella’s castle. That was the day that you and Jimin had to went to Disneyland in Paris, France. You cant help but to think, with the picture in hand, that it was one of the best nights ever. It was also the same night your virginity was taken.

‘‘ Oh.. I know that tone. Are you two arguing at the moment.”

You shrug, “ I mean you could say that.’’

No you cant.

‘‘ Alright alright I won’t talk more of him. Let’s change the subject.” He chuckles deeply into the phone.

‘‘ How’s Europe? Anything new happening on base?”

‘‘ Same old Same old. It’s been what? 2 years since I’ve left Seoul? The food is different over here. They don’t have kimchi pancakes sadly.”

You can only imagine the frowny face he makes at you whenever he doesn’t approve or like something. It always turns out to be funny.

You giggle into the phone shaking your head slightly, “ Of course. You are in Europe Charlie. Where are you getting food from anyway if you are on base?’’

‘‘ I can go off base to a certain mileage when I am off duty. I just have to report back in time. But you do know that you can always come live on base with me...’ He trails off.

Oh boy. Here he goes. He’s always talking about moving you on base with him. Hell, he’s been talking about it since before he had to go to be based in Europe. By then you were twenty years old and old enough to live by yourself. Growing up in Daegu, Korea since you were six, you felt as if Korea was home to you and you definately weren’t ready to leave yet.

Especially, after losing your parents here. Around eight years old, your aunt and mother were on the way to pick up your father from the airport. With your mom and dad also being military and based in Korea with your dad’s bestfriend, your uncle Charlie, your father had been called to take military leave to go and be based in Korea for the National Guard.

On the way back from the airport, a drunk driver had struck the car knocking them off the road and colliding head first into the railing of the bridge. All bodies were reported dead upon collision, including your aunt. Charlie didn’t take the news well at all, and so did you. Only eight years old and still a bit new to a foreign country. It was devistating for you and Charlie. Charlie did what was right and stepped up to be your legal guardian while taking some time off from the military. Till this day, he treats you like his sacred little daughter and you can’t ask for anyone better than him.

 “You are old enough to live on your own and housing is avail-”

You jump at his voice on the line again, being too spaced out from the tragic memory. Before he can go on any longer you cut him off. ‘‘ Im fine with the apartment you left me. Im paying the bills on time and taking good care of it.”

‘‘ Alright fine. But that option is always available you hear me? I will always be ready for you to come with me.’’

‘‘ Okay Charlie” You groan.

‘‘ Alright.. sweetie it’s getting late on this side and it’s already 3 am on your side. Get some sleep okay? Don’t you have a model shoot thingy or something? You have those a lot.’‘

‘‘ Yes i actually do in a couple of hours. It’s been a while since I’ve did a shoot. Please eat and sleep well. Don’t injure yourself.’‘

‘‘ I promise. You promise to do the same right?’‘ He says, rustling movements are in the background.

‘‘ Yes I promise. Good night sleep tight..’‘ You smile as you wait for him to finish the rest.

He chuckles one last time on the other end, ‘‘I’ll always love you, goodnight‘’

Beep Beep Beep

You in a racy light pink lingerie with white duvets and sheets is the concept of your comeback. It’s supposed to symbolize the “Night After’’. Camera’s click and directors yell and praise you in your subtle yet damaging moves and facial expressions. You want.. no need for this comeback to be successful. Not only did your manager schedule this, but she is making sure that they release this same very day.

Nobody in this company’s industry has ever did this before. But you, you are sort of the special one. The special foreigner as they say. It’s not like you don’t like it but you don’t like that they label you as that. Stylists, employee’s hell even anybody who works there treat you as a princess. It’s not bad, but it’s just weird.

‘‘ One last one. Give me a sexy yet innocent look mama.’‘ Elliot, the director says, smiling wide at you.

You slip a finger into your mouth and do a little pout with your lips.

Elliot busts out into a roar of happiness with his hands clapping furiously. ‘‘That’s it mama yes! That’s just what we needed!’‘

Adjusting his microphone earpiece, he turns around to greet and thank everyone, ‘‘ Alright everybody this concludes our shooting! You all worked so hard today. Make it home safe, eat well.’‘

Finally. You sigh out in relief and close your eyes. It’s been a long day. Almost 6 hours of shooting. Three Videos, and five swap outfits for each session of shooting for the ‘’ Night After’’.  As everyone heads out and starts cleaning up you bow your head slightly and thank them.

A stylist brings you a satin robe to cover yourself in. You thank her and put it on just before getting up from the bed and walking towards wardrobe. Once you are done putting on your clothes, your manager leads you straight out the exit. Outside awaits the car that drives you everywhere. Literally everywhere.

‘‘ Tomorrow somebody has put in a special request for you to appear as the main lead girl in their music video. It’s short notice and I told them I would have to bump some things around and notify you. But they are paying us and you good money to be in it.’‘

Money? Sounds like a plan.

‘‘ It’s fine. Who am I shooting for?’‘ You say, fluffing your hair just a little while inspecting yourself in the rear view mirror.

Your makeup is still intact with no ruins and the contacts they had given you suited you very well. A hazel with a slight bit of teal. Suddenly the car moves off into the busy streets of Seoul. You can’t help but to notice every couple that walks along the sidewalks. They seem so happy, glad to be around each other.

On the floor of the car lies your little mini backpack filled with all of your items and belongings. Picking it up, you begin to dig through it looking for some hand lotion to soothe your semi-dry hands. Once you find it you gently start to squeeze the tube.

‘‘ Kim Namjoon.’‘

You freeze. Namjoon? The same Namjoon from the group? Joonie? It’s been well… a year since you’ve seen him in person. Hell since you’ve seen all of Bangtan Sonyeondan together. Except for lastnight when Hoseok and.. that guy showed up.

You sigh already knowing the answer from the question you are about to ask.

‘‘ From…?’‘ You ask then put the lotion back in your bag. Slowly you rub your hands together to moisturize.

Your manager quickly flips through the daily planner, ‘‘ Bangtan Sonyeodan but this is for one of his mixtape songs.’‘

Thank goodness.

‘‘ That’s fine. What time will the car be arriving tomorrow?’‘

‘‘ 8 am on the dot. You need to be there by 8:30. I’ll be tending to one of my other models tomorrow so you will be alone. I can send som-’‘

‘‘ No no it’s truly okay. I know how to manage things myself. Besides, I learn from you.’‘ You reassure her with one of your winning smiles, laying your head on her shoulder.

‘‘ Aigoo what am I going to do with you?’‘

The day ends very well. The movies you’ve been watching have kept you occupied. But not occupied enough for you to keep crying at all the sad parts in the chick flicks. Breakups, someone had died, someone had even just spilled something onto the floor and that was enough to send you into tears.Only because when the main lead boy rushed to help clean it up, it reminded you of Jimin last-night helping Isabel.

‘’What is going on with myself.’’ You blow your nose into a tissue for what seemed like the thousandth time today. Clara lets out one of her meows beside you then goes back to grooming herself.

You place her onto your lap and begin to run your fingers through her fur over and over again. Such a soothing effect to you as you stare into space sulking in your thoughts.

Why is it that you weren’t enough for him? Why is it that every single little thing reminds you of him? You gave him your all and he gave you his but what happened? Where did you go wrong? Cooked, cleaned, satisfied his needs. You guys had even started to plan out what you wanted out of a family. When you wanted a baby and what you would name it. It was fun. The whole relationship was fun. Right until that scandal.

Ding.. Ding.. Ding.. DI-

You unlock your phone immediately to stop that annoying dinging noise. Not surprisingly it’s a text from Jeon Jungkook.

Kookie : Im coming over I’ll be there in exactly 3 minutes.

Kookie: Don’t think about leaving either.

Kookie: Im bringing someone with me.

Kookie: We need to have a serious talk babycheeks.

You roll your eyes at the nickname he’s given you. No matter how many times you tell him you want him to change it, he declines. There’s no point in asking anymore.

Why would he want to talk anyways and who is the person he’s bringing. Eh.. it might just be Ryan they seem to do everything together as a team.

As soon as you step foot out of your bed the sound the door clicking makes your head shoot up. How in the living hell does he know the password to your house? Rage takes over you. That’s something that you hate. When people invade your personal space. In this case, personal home.

‘‘ Jeon fucking Jungkook!’‘ You scream, abruptly stomping your feet all the way to and out your bedroom door. Suddenly you stop at the sight of the two faces staring back at you.

Jungkook’s expression holds a concerned yet upset face while the other just stands there calm and cool. But you on the other hand are way besides that level.

Your eyes must be filled with rage and the expression on your face is no good. How dare he disrespect you like that? Bringing him into your home, knowing the bad blood between you two. Oh, they both have something coming towards them. You begin to walk to them again making each step make the floor shake.

‘‘ Get out. Both of you. One you invade my personal private home..’‘

You grab both boys by their collars, making sure to grip the one on the right’s harder than usual. ‘‘ Two, you fucking invite him over here.’‘ You drag each of them towards the exit. Which is going good until Jungkook rips your hands away from his shirt and takes you over his shoulder.

You’ve had enough of him and his invasive ways. Pounding on his back with your fists, you make sure to scream into his ear. “ Put me the fuck down Jeon Jungko-”

You hiss at the stinging sensation on your ass. Did he just? Jimin stands there awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. You make sure to make eye contact with him and roll your eyes. Something that always had and will piss him off.

‘‘ Hush. I told you all of us needed to have a deep talk about you.’‘

Jungkook plops your frail body onto one side of the couch in which he sits next to you. He motions for Jimin to come sit across from the both of you but you aren’t having it.

‘‘ Don’t you do it.” You glare at him. Jungkook sighs harshly only to pluck your forehead two times. You whine and rub it with your index and middle finger.

Jungkook shakes his head in disapproval, ‘‘ When are you ever going to learn? Jimin sit down now.”

‘‘ Truthfully.. I feel as though I shouldn’t be here so-”

“ Good. Get out you are unwanted.” You snap back causing him to give you one of his long stares with no facial expression at all.

Jungkook glares at you just before getting up to throw his hands in the air full of disappointment. “ Enough! “

Yelling. Something else you don’t like to hear being done at yourself. You finally sit still and quite avoiding any eye contact with the both of them.

He sits back down and clears his throat. Jungkook gives Jimin a look before continuing on.

‘‘ I gathered us here to talk about you..”

‘‘ Why. Im fine. How many times do I have to say it. Im fine im fine im fine im fucking fine!’‘ You exclaim, getting more mad by the second. When will people accept this?

‘‘ Baby.. ’‘

Your eyes shoot up to him and his soft voice. You didn’t want to but you did because his voice to you is like candy that melts into your mouth.

‘‘ Don’t call me that. You have a girlfriend at-least be loyal to her rather than what you did to me.’‘

‘‘ Fuck is anybody going to just sit here and listen? Can we at-least get to the source of the problem? Huh?’‘ Jungkook leans back into the couch clearly pissed by your attitude.

Jimin’s the first to speak and holds a firm eye contact with you, almost daring you to break away from it.

‘‘ Fine. Im just going to cut straight to it then. Why are you so jealous? You aren’t okay at all. I seen the way you looked at us yesterday. You wanted to break down so bad but you didn’t. It looks like you’ve been dropping weight day by day why aren’t you eating well?’’

You’re taken a-back by his jealous comment. Although you are you just cannot admit it. You are jealous. You do want him back. You cant bear to see him with another girl but you. But the fact that Jimin is concerned makes you really hope. Just hope that there is something left of you still in his heart.

‘‘ Jealous? Jealous tuh.” You scoff, leaning into Jungkook’s arms where you rest his head on your chest. You only do this just to see Jimin’s reaction and by the look on his face he doesn’t enjoy that move one bit.

‘‘ Yes jealous. I mean why else would you put almond extra-

‘‘ Woah. No need to go there. We established that it was a so called accident lastnight.” Jungkook does finger quotes into the air and looks down at you.

You lift your head up and furrow your eyebrows in annoyance, “ So called? So you really believe that I did it on purpose. Wow Jungkook. Escort yourself out.’’

He sighs, wrapping his arms around you securly in hopes of you settling down a  little, “ Honestly it’s not like that. I wasn’t there to see you bake them nor was I watching her eat it. Im just saying that you knew Jimin was coming and obviously his girlfriend was going to come too. It’s a little sketchy is all.”

There’s no fixing what he said. Him adding onto his explanation just made things sound worse than what he’s trying to say. You don’t have time to be ganged up on, nor like it at all. It’s best if they both just leave, to not turn nothing into something.

‘‘ Get out. Now. Before I call and tell Ryan what you said and then she’ll definitely deal with you.’‘ You say, removing yourself from off of him and onto the other side of the couch with your legs crossed.

Mad isn’t even the word to describe yourself right now. You’re just a mixture of all emotions.

Jungkook now looks of sorriness written all over his face. You bite your lip and shake your head while pointing towards the door. He sighs heavily and takes one last look at you while removing himself from the couch. You watch him slip on his coat and shoes.

Jimin gets up from his spot on the couch, ‘‘ I’ll be leav-”

‘‘ Sit down we aren’t done talking.” 

He looks at you with his eyebrows furrowed, sitting back down slowly.

Jungkook keeps his head down as he wraps his blue scarf around his neck. Poor baby, but he shouldn’t of said it. “Please better yourself and talk it out with each-other. Im leaving.”

‘‘ Make it home safely.. Kookie.” You sigh once the door closes behind him. Now you’re here. Face to face with Park Jimin.

The same Jimin who cheated on you. The same Jimin you haven’t seen in a while. You take a few moments to take in his appearance. He seems to have re-gained his muscles that are peaking through his black, longsleeve shirt. His thighs are still thick, just like his luscious lips. Of course he changed his hair color to black. But who knows, he might change it again.

‘‘ You’ve been doing well?’‘ You say, voice low but enough for him to hear. You drop your eyes to your lap instead of keeping intact with his.

‘‘ Yes. But you have not. Im disappointed in you. Why are you doing this to yourself? Don’t do this because of me.”

‘‘ Jimin you don’t know the feeling. You don’t know how it feels to be left wondering why you weren’t good enough for someone. Why they had cheated on you. You don’t understand at all and wont ever.’‘ Your voice cracks on the last sentence and you an feel the lump in your throat become sore.

He bites his lip unsure of what to say next. Those words had hit him good inside. ‘‘ Im sorry. I truly am. But you know the reason why we had to end it. I fucked up bad and the media was making the scandal bigger and messier day by day. It was better to just call it off.’‘

One by one your tears start to drop. You nose begins it’s running trip but you sniffle it back up.

‘‘ You could of denied it. You know you could of made a statement and denied it. But you felt something for her didn’t you? Didn’t you?’‘ You semi-yell, sobs already starting to take it’s way over.

He bites his lip once again and ruffles his fingers through his hair, “ Baby..’’

You wipe your tears with your hands making your face even more puffy from the crying. “ I am jealous. I am I admit it Jimin. But do you know i have been suffering for one year and two months? I can’t sleep at night because im so used to your touch at night. I look at every couple in Seoul and think to myself, Dang they seem so happy. What’s their secret?’’

Jimin sits up, making eye contact with you with tears welling up into his eyes. It hurt’s you more than yourself to see him crying. It always has.

‘‘ Please don’t do that. Don’t do this to yourself. Please get help from someone to try and move on. Please. I don’t like to see or hear you make yourself suffer.’ He begs, getting up from his seat and coming towards you.

Jimin sits next to you, hesitantly opening his arms up to you. Would it be wrong to embrace him? He’s being too sincere, but thats what you want right? You decide to just do it, and lean into him only for him to pull you in closer into his chest.You just lay there crying and sobbing while he runs his fingers through your hair. You shouldn’t be doing this. He has a girlfriend. But it feels so right.

‘‘ What does she have that I don’t? Why couldn’t you love me the same way you love her “  You cry into his chest, soaking his shirt with your tears. 

You’d been waiting for this moment to just let it out. Let everything out.

‘’ Please don’t make this harder than what it is right now. Just try and forget me and move on. Please.” Hypocritcal. How does he expect you to get over him when he’s the one whos holding you so tight right now. Soon enough his sniffles join yours in harmony.

You raise your head up and look him deep into the eyes while you wipe away his tears, “ Don’t cry Jimin. I’m the one supposed to be crying over you. Don’t cry.’’

He takes your hand away from his face and wraps his fist ontop of yours, “Please promise me you will move on okay?’’

You shake your head no, “ I can’t make that promise.”

He doesn’t say anything. He gently cradles you in his arms and lifts you up. You don’t think to where he is going. You just close your eyes and grab onto his shirt firmly not wanting to let go.

Soon enough you feel the cold sheets over your bed. He covers you in the duvet and leans down to your forehead.  A kiss. Your fist is still locked onto his shirt in which he tries to pry it away but you don’t want to let him go. He sighs and raises his arms up as he takes off the shirt revealing an extra plain white wife beater under it. Taking your other hand, he wraps your hand into another fist onto the shirt to where both of your hands are holding onto it.

‘‘ Please better yourself for me baby. Sleep and eat well. “

Is all he says before turning off the lights and walking out your bedroom door.  You can hear him putting on and zipping up his heavy coat but you just don’t make a sound.

The apartment door clicks and beeps letting you know he’s already gone.

[minshookie]

All Play, No Work. Pt two

Pairing | CEO!Yoongi x reader

Genre |angst, dark themed, yandere, gore.

Summary | “ Eunji just couldn’t play nice, firing her just wouldn’t be enough.”

!Warnings! 18+, yandere Yoongi, character death, descriptive scenes, murder scene, infidelity.

| this is not in anyway shape or form a true depiction or representation of BTS, this is a work of fiction and is not to be taken seriously. For entertainment purposes only.|

(this is my work, please don’t repost or steal)

Requested [request closed] words 3k

A/N : link to part 1 I hope this is enjoyable!! Unedited but I will edit soon.

“Yoongi, don’t talk so drastically...it was just a joke.” He heaved deeply, gripping the door handle severely. “It can’t be a joke every time y/n she’s done worse before, her and her husband.” Sighing, unsure if it was safe to touch him you put your hand on the handle next to his. “Min, they hate me because you love me, if you want it resolved maybe we should lay low...take something like a break?” Of course you didn’t mean it, but the complications at work were becoming a bit detrimental.

His head turned at lighting speed, with a look of disgust almost. “Break? You can’t be serious don’t ever say something like that again, and I’ll do what I please, we should we hide ourselves she’ll start waking around with her head high like she won.” He let go of the handle leaning against the door looking deeply into you. “I’ll fire her.” You rolled your eyes “Yoongi please she needs to work.” “Stop being so damn sweet, this is the same person that soiled your clothes, cracks jokes about you...she bullies you she should’ve been out of here.” He put his hand in his pocket, checking his watch on his other wrist. “We’re almost done for the day anyway... you go to my place without me I’ll meet you there.” Taking his watch clad hand in yours, you could tell he was still furious.

“Alright if you insist, but what’ll you be doing yoongs?” You attempted to turn the atmosphere playful. “Baby, you insist on disobeying my requests.” Chuckles dryly. “I’ll be talking to Kim, and Lucy.” “Lucy, why?” “I’m giving her Kim’s position, a promotion.” He leans swiftly pecking your cheek before opening the door for you both to exit, not giving you a chance at questioning him further. He follows closely behind all eyes on you, a grimace on Eunji’s features. It’s like you had a fat red target right in the middle of your face. “Actually, why don’t you just head out now.” Yoongi mumbled before leaving your side, quickly heading to his office his fist curled in a rough grip.

You hung your head low like a shy school girl, going to collect your bag and belongings from your cubicle. Only to find Jimin completing the papers you’d left. “Heading home miss Raman booty?” He mumbled without turning, a pen between his teeth, his fingers typing with stealth. “I hate you Jimin.” Laughing he let the pen fall, leaning in the chair finally facing you. “You ok?” You nodded giving a warm smile. “Good, here’s your thousand dollar sack.” He handed you your purse, he’s full of jokes today, you responded with a low chuckle. “Wait before you go, whats the 411 on the bosses mood?” “Mm angry, go in quickly and quietly and leave the same way.” He nodded going back to the computer, “Ah, so not the day for pay increase forms? Gotcha.” You laughed before walking away, ready to be rid of the grimy feeling you were getting from work today.

Avoiding eye contact, you focus on the rythmatic clicking of your pumps until you entered the silver elevator. Leaning against the glass window you watched as you descended through the building. Finally meeting the last floor quickly freeing yourself sighing one more trek to take, that being into the parking garage. Silent and eerie, it oddly relaxed you you found your car quickly. It’s always there right next to Yoongi’s ever since the first day you started.

The thought warmed you, feelings of your boyfriends love floating around you. Hopping in your car you threw the gifted purse in the back seat, just before you could start up your phone rang, Yoongi of course. “Hey Yoongi” ”Ah, you sound happier already.” Reclining your seat you sighed. “I was thinking of you.” He hummed in approval. “Cute, hm I do the same to calm myself...thinking of you of course.” Giggling you responded “reason for calling?” “I wanted to say I love you, and I want you to go straight home.” He orders blandly. “Tsk I wanted to shop a bit.” You joke putting your seat back into position. “Y/n straight home, no questions.” “Yeah I heard you Daddy.” You joked starting your vehicle. “Good, I’ll see you soon, love you...say it back.” “I love you Yoongi, of course.” He sighed softly, checking your surroundings you pulled back waiting for him to hang up. “Alright bye...Jimin get out.” The phone call ended.

Relaxed you drove through your city, it’s a bit later in the day the faces of people passing linger in your mind. A soft tune plays from the radio, resting at a light your eyes wandered to the beagle place Yoongi always insists on getting breakfast from. His friends little hole in the wall. Letting your mind wander, he really is a romantic. Finishing the length of the trip you finally reach your destination, a discreet apartment on the edge of town with a not so discreet price. Reaching for your purse you got out of the car, frankly mentally and physically exhausted. “Mrs min! Welcome back!” You’re warmly greeted at the door, “no still y/l/n,good afternoon.” Warmly you smile thanking him for opening the door, yet another elevator to take you where you needed to be.

On the home stretch, trudging towards the door unlocking it you fumbled inside sighing taking in his scent that floated about. With your eyes closed you dropped your bag shuffling to the couch. Kicking off the shoes you let gravity take over thumping onto the firm furniture. The light jingling, made a smile spread on your lips. “Is that my best boy!?” You opened your eyes, greeted with Min Holly his coffee colored paws giving you pets on your head. “My Beautiful little one.” Kissing him on the temple, and gifting him to a few pets and scratches he was satisfied with your greeting he let you be at rest.

Pulling from the couch, you fulfilled the routine of grabbing a snack and skipping upstairs to shower. Stripping you ventured Yoongi’s bedroom in the nude, in search for the clothes you’d left there. Giving up you opted for a pair of briefs and a t-shirt.

Finishing the shower, you cuddled into bed wallowing on the plush mattress in search of a comforting position, engulfing your senses in Yoongi’s scent. Turing on the tv you rolled over, the bed felt cold without your cuddle baby. “Hmm Holly! C’mere little boy!” Joyously he ran in jumping next to you cuddling into your warm side. “We’ll nap and wait for Daddy huh?”

NOW READING FROM: Yoongi’s point of view.

“Are you sure Min, I mean I’m flattered but I just started about a month ago-” I held up my hand to stop her nervous speech. “I’m positive, I’ve observed your work ethic I’m sure you could keep up Lucy, the pay is great the work is easy....more time to speak to Jungkook hm?” Her cheeks blushed light rose at the mention of his name. “But what about uhm..Eunji?” She spoke of her coworker in hushed tones,like she was some sort of demon.

“Kim Eunji has been polluting our work area, making others feel uncomfortable...and uncomfortable means less work getting done, I’ll see about her don’t worry.” Toying with her manicured fingers, such a shy girl, “so what’s your answer?” She sighed brushing a stray hair behind her ear, “Mr Min, when do I start?” She held a coy smile, slowly looking up to make eye contact. “Ah! Smart girl!” I distributed my hand for her to shake in agreement. “You’ll start Monday, we’ll have it all sorted by then.” Nodding she let go of my hand, “thank you Mr Min.” “Of course Lucy I know I won’t regret it, enjoy your night sorry for keeping you late.” Now almost all of her face had a glow of blush, “oh it’s fine Mr Min I don’t mind I didn’t have anything to do tonight anyways, how a-” “ask Eunji to come in for me please, Good night Lucy thank you.”

Shutting up he gave a quick smile and nod before leaving quicker than she came. Eunji pranced in almost eagerly a subtle smirk playing on her cherry lips. “It’s late Yoongi I have to get home.” “Home to what...a cold shower and empty bed? Come sit.” I smirked as she complied, “what do you want Min...if you’re looking for apologies you wont-” “I just wanted to talk to you.” She shut her painted lips, nodding giving me room to speak.

“You’ve been acting out Kim, and I think I know why.” She folded her arms defensively humming a response. “Oh yeah?” Her cocky tone only deepened my concealed rage. “You’re missing someone, your husband maybe?” She rolled her eyes, poking her tongue along her cheek. “What about it?” She began to toy with the small figurines that decorated my desk. “Well, he misses you too...I’ve made the decision to let you go if you’d like.”

“It isn’t time for him to come back, he’s been on the trip for months.” She mumbles smiling down at a framed picture of Holly. Scoffing I took the image back, “Joon, he likes it there he’s been having issues contacting you so he’s said....but he’s made the choice to transfer and stay at the location.” She looked intensely Into my eyes, confused yet gullible.

“He’s gotten a good place, he wants to move you there...he misses you more than you know, and the way you’ve been acting out of line I think you feel the same.” She huffs, nodding slowly. “Alright, you’ll treat my flight the same you did his?” Greedy little bitch...“yes, paid and full, you’ll be able to contact him at the airport hm?” Finally a soft smile spreads her lips, she huffs a low chuckle. “Really?” “Would you like to see the messages and paperwork?”

In hopes she’d say no I still pulled open the side drawer, a single word held her fate as I gripped the heavy weapon. It would be messy and against the plan if she’d decided to take this route. “No..no, why would you lie about sending me on all expenses paid long term vacation.” I smirked nodding while closing the drawer. “So you’ve agreed to joining him?” Sighing she tamed wisps of her dark hair, raking the back into her loose ponytail.

I pushed the legal paper forward a ballpoint rests atop of it. “When do I leave, do I get a chance to say goodbye?” She mumbles leaving her signature along the dotted spaces. Goodbye? Who would want to farewell a she-demon like you. “I’m afraid not, your flight is scheduled for tomorrow 7AM...you should get home actually.” I checked my timepiece briefly.

She stood silently, “ah ah wait, Eunji...it’s late you’re tired allow me to drive you home.” She furrows her brows, giving a suspicious look. “I’ll miss you Kim, you were one of the first people here you and Namjoon.” She lowered herself in the seat her expression now compassionate.

I didn’t lie, Eunji was exhausted...the bags under her eyes almost frightening. She was once the best dressed, best looking, and best worker here. Jealousy had eaten her, and the absence of her Lover only made her worse. “Ah Min, you won’t miss me...you’re sending me away to protect your little hook up, she moan like I used to?” My cheeks began to redden, “no, her’s are better.” Guilt set in sourly. I lied right to y/n’s face to save my ass.

Kim Eunji had made me a liar, a cheater and a bad businessman...all the more reason for her fate. “Hm, if you say so.....how about we go to your place.” Her smirk detailed more than she’d let on. “One last time.” She’s always been scandalous, she could never learn a lesson, she’d never get enough. She saw an opportunity to finally sink her teeth into what she envied, and sinking her teeth is what she planned on doing.

“Tempting, can’t wait for mr kim huh?” I attempted to participate in her now lustful staring. “Hmm, you won’t make me will you?” I set free a chuckle, letting my fingertips glide my lip. “Your place, we can make it an all night thing...you can bring me to get my car in the morning.” She collected her expensive shoulder bag. “No, y/n is at my place, probably out cold by now....I’ll bring you somewhere with a romantic view, you’ll get back to your car tonight.” She frowned at the mention of her name, pulling her wisps of hair back.

“Fine, but don’t say her name anymore tonight.” Nodding I stood offering a hand to help her up and she refused with a bratty giggle, leaving the office. She removed her heels walking barefoot to the elevator, I paced hot on her trail, finally catching her as she stood idle in the spacious elevator.

The elevator couldn’t reach the final floor fast enough for me, she’d gotten comfortable the guilt of cheating on her husband nonexistent. Sighing in frustration eyeing my watch. She toyed with my fingers leaning against me, “why’d you replace me huh?” She pouted interlocking our fingers, her fridged rings kissed my skin harshly. “Excuse me?” She sighed, “we were messing around and you...found y/n.” I chuckled as the doors pulled open. “You were engaged...nothing more would’ve developed anyway.”

Eunji and I had held countless endeavors right under Namjoon’s nose, flirtatious, casual, sexual. But he was everything but oblivious, he was just lenient until he found out the depth of our friendship. So he decided to test the waters with y/n, it was extremely unacceptable. Eunji was engaged after all, I do have some self respect. I never replaced her, I just found someone I actually loved, someone who needed me and only me.

She only laughed at my reasoning, following me giddily to my car, I opened the passenger and let her inside. I already had her fate planned. She’d been the thorn in y/n’s side ever since she’d started, she’d come running to me in tears over the things Eunji would say...the things she’d do. They treated her like a rag doll the new girl fresh to adulthood, she knew nothing better than to follow and comply.

Eunji was given warning after warning, I hate firing people but for her I’d make an exception. But y/n she’s so sweet...it’ll kill her to know Eunji was walking around jobless because of her sensitivity. So what am I to do? I’ll just make her leave silently...on her own. I’ll make her disappear.

“Where are we going?” She pushed my knee aggressively, I’d zoned out completely roaming my thoughts a dangerous thing to do behind the wheel. Absentmindedly I’d driven past our false “date”, ultimately finding ourselves in the dark. “There is this bridge, it’s romantic y/n loves it.” I fibbed, how much of an idiot could I be...this mishaps could fuck everything I’d planned. I pulled onto said bridge, vacant, thankfully just how I needed it. I turned the car off, in pitch black I could feel her looking at me.

“Huh, what a view.” She quips, “well don’t be ungrateful.” The moment before the fall is always awkward, “hm...recline the seat.” She ordered, I personally didn’t enjoy her tone. I let my seat slowly fall back and she leaned over the center console. Blindly fiddling my pant buckle. Oh shit. Oh no. Waves of guilt washed over me at the simple thought of what she was attempting.

This had to be it, she’d made it to my briefs with ease, trailing her manicured fingers along my member. This had to happen now or the outcome I’d been planning would definitely go to shit. I put an end to her exploration, gripping the back of her neck with great force she mewled like a harmed animal. “F-fuck Min, feeling rough?”

No way would this be easy or clean in the car. “Shut up.” I gritted, now griping her hair making her whine and cry out. “P-please wait.” “What the fuck did I say?” Opening my door I pulled her from the car on my side. This needed to be quick and clean, this bridge was all too public and constantly frequented for me to be leaving a messy scene on.

What smart girl, she tried to escape only to be pained by my iron grip on her mane. “Why so scared...you wanted me right?” “M-m-Min! Please I’m sorry, tell her I’m sorry...sorry-so sorry.” I kicked the pit of her knee causing her to collapse on the cold gravel. “One sorry Bitch you are, I couldn’t even pay you to keep your mouth shut.”

“Think of all you did to that innocent woman...ruined her clothes, sent her on wild goose chases in a county she’s never been in, made her fall down the stairs, turned half the office against her...so evil you even made your sleazy husband her personal predator.” She sobbed pathetically, “w-what....he did-wait?” Of course she was unaware as any idiot would be.

I knelt mumbling in her ear. “He touched my fucking girlfriend for months on end...She was so ashamed do you know how much it took for her to come and tell me?” She gagged on her sobs, choking herself on her cries. “I’m sorry, I’ll quit I’ll leave-no need to do this I’ll be gone by tomorrow.”

She whispers letting her body go limp. She thinks it’s so easy. “You sure will.” I grumbled reaching to pull my tie from my back pocket. “You can’t do shit to me- Joon- Joon will be lo-” “Joon his fucking dead. This right here.” I kicked her down pressing my foot into her soft back, to keep her still. She struggled to breath with my weight on her back, I crouch looping the long tie around her neck she ceased from fighting back as I wrapped it around my hands as well. Pulling with my angered strength, “this is the fucking business trip...enjoy the flight whore.”

She stoped struggling all together, pulling the fabric as tight as I could, I made sure the deed was done. She quit breathing, the ceased the struggle. Violently making sure she was gone, before I stored her in the trunk. My hands shook, the rush made my figure quake, I did my best to climb into the drivers seat.

Starting the car, it’s best in mind to flee as fast as I arrived. He’ll be pissed to high heaven, but at this moment theirs only one person to call. I scanned the road feeling beyond the edge, unsure of my final destination. Finally he felt the need to answer “Min, Min Yoongi-ah it is too late to be calling me this way!” He croaked through the phone .

“Jimin, hm a bonus?” “Excuse me?” He shuffled, I couldn’t continue to circle around here “Jimin...I need your help.” I groaned, I’d have to find somewhere to go before someone saw me driving suspiciously. “I’ve made another mistake....a messy one.” He gasped before mumbling complaints. “Why,Who and how much?” He grumbled, “meet me and I’ll let you know that.” “You know where to find me.” When all else fails, Jimin is the one to call. Partner in crime, cheater of justice and death.

NOW READING FROM : readers point of view.

Fear rolled over you as you came to the realization that is was almost 5 AM and Yoongi wasn’t in bed. Holly still occupied his spot, sprawled out in pure comfort. Enjoying the luxury of sleeping in the big bed.

Rubbing sleep from your eyes you shuffled your feet along the chilly floor, slipping in Yoongi’s slippers to adventure to the bathroom. You’d have to be back at work in some hours, Yoongi as well. It’s never like him to be late. After reliving yourself, washing up you’d realized the dryness of your mouth.

Aiding the feeling you took the trip downstairs, Holly’s paws hot on ur heels. “You thirsty too?” Rhetorically you questioned setting his dish for him, and grabbing a water for yourself, drinking it almost instantly. “You’ll get sick that way kitten.”

You choked in response, spitting the water onto the marbled counter. “What the fuck Yoongi, where’ve you been?” You spoke into the darkness, you didn’t hear him come in, maybe he was already home. “After I cleared some things up at work, Jimin and I had to...do some heavy work.” His voice held a quiver, unsure if it was of sadness or fear, maybe even anger.

“Ah well....come out of the dark, come over here.” You closed the the water, Holly had already met him in the living room. He neared, his features being shown from the glow of the kitchen lights. “Here, c’mon.” You sat on the island, back to him.

Something was off...he was hiding something, he was moving strangely with his words and actions. He came, leaving Holly on the floor he centers between your legs. Leaning on his palms on either side of you, “my shirt, my slippers, dressing up as me today?” You gave a soft smirk, “when’d you change?”

“At Jimin’s the work was messy.” “Ah...what’s that on your lip?” Taking your nail, you scrapped the flake of red from his top lip. “Been kissing other ladies...ladies in cheap red lipstick?” You giggled. His face ran pale at your joke, “n-no probably from Parks food, we were hungry.” You gazed in his eyes, “what’d you eat?” “Why?” Sighing you blew it off, “no reason, just curious...how’d it go with Eunji.”

He sighed leaned forward on the counter to stretch his back. It’s then when you caught a glimpse of something odd. “There was a struggle, but it’s all over now.” You held his shoulders, stopping him from moving back up, “Yoongi, you have this stuff all in your hair, where were you?” You brushed the stubborn dried substance with your fingers. “All on your neck.” You groomed him awaiting his answer. “Painting at Jimin’s.” Overpowering you he stood to his height.

You didn’t believe him, how could you? What paint job takes that long? How could it get on his hair? Down his neck? On his lips...nose as well? “I’m going to bed, kiss.” He pecked my cheek moving from my legs, Holly followed his escape. “Oh, and Jimin’s buddy gonna look at my car for a while I had to clean it out...left your lipstick.” He threw the tube for you to catch, it fell in your clutches.

“Yoongi, stop...where’d you get this?” “In the car, it’s yours baby.” He stood stiff on the stairs not turning around. “No, it’s not I can’t wear this...it fucks up my lips, I’m allergic.”

“It was Kim’s huh? You were out doing what you said you didn’t.” He turned glaring sinisterly. “I was out doing what I should’ve a while ago.”

You scoffed, he’s unbelievable, how could he. You’d began to plan your breakdown, how you’d destroy his home in a fit of rage. He’d cheated, lied, and didn’t care. “Kim Eunji and Kim Namjoon are dead.” He shared coldly, “any more questions miss curiosity?”

“No? Good now come up and clean me.”

In utter shock, you shook on top of the kitchen island. He’d made his way to the shower quickly, you heard the faint sprinkling. Sliding from your seat, in fear you followed his orders “now my love...don’t be afraid of me I do all things for you out of love.”

Minshookie 2021 | Not my image

[stutterfly]

Tricks of the Trade | MYG (M)

Shared as part of the Similarly Sequestered game with @kpopfanfictrash​, @underthejoon​, @fortunexkookie​, @gukslut​ and me!

Rating: M (Explicit 18+)

Word Count: 24.1K Prompt: “The FBI doesn’t care about your porn preferences.” {Body Swap AU, Soulmates AU}

Genre: Fluff, humor, smut, oneshot

Summary: The convenience store across the street from your apartment carries your favorite energy drink. That's why you frequent it. It's definitely not because you have a big fat crush on the owner you've been flirting with for the better part of a year. Of course your brand of flirting can also be misconstrued as bickering. When a strange man wanders into the store, he thinks you need a little nudge to embrace the strings connecting you. Next thing you know you're waking up in a body that definitely doesn't belong to you. You can't decide if it's the best or worst thing that's ever happened to you.

CW & Other Tags: Anxiety attacks, language, oral sex, unprotected sex, nipple play, fingering, Agent of Chaos Jin, shopkeeper Yoongi, idiots to lovers, frenemies to lovers, bodyswap shenanigans

Pairings: Yoongi x Reader

Posted on June 23, 2020 by stutterfly and cross-posted to Ao3. I do not allow reposting, translations, or edits, to this or any other platform, including YouTube.

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The bell at the top of the door jingles as another customer walks into the store, but you pay them no mind. You’re already scanning the refrigerated drinks section for the third time, scouring the rows of cans and bottles for your beverage of choice. There’s only one kind of energy drink you want but its usual location is barren. Desperate to find what you’re searching for, you squat down to look behind the other drinks in the fridge.

“You’re not going to find any.”

The familiar, disinterested drawl of the shopkeeper has you popping up from the floor to look over at him. He wears a green apron over a black tee and a pair of faded jeans. His back is to you so he doesn’t have to see your face when you complain. He reaches up to take off his baseball cap and runs his fingers through thick locks of ebony hair before returning the cap to his head. He spares a glance over his shoulder at you, knowing you’re watching him. He sighs loudly as he continues to stock nearby shelves with boxes of cereal.

When he opened this tiny shop across from your apartment about a year ago, you thought he was cute, but he’s always seemed cold to you. The gossips around town say he’s a bit scrawny, monotone and boorish, but you like his voice and you like his style. He must be intelligent if he started this business from nothing, especially at his age. Not many people in their late twenties can say they are as independent as Yoongi.

He has confidence and pride in his values. You’ve seen him tell rude people off without a second thought and kick people out for being racist towards other customers. He puts on a front to seem unapproachable but you’ve seen him give a carton of milk to a mother who didn’t have money to pay for it, and free candy to a group of kids on a rainy day. While he pretends to be an old grump who shuffles around his shop all day, you’ve seen him get the energy to sprint around the block after a shift and then collapse at the cafe tables next door. He’s weird. He’s honest. He’s kind-hearted. It’s easy to admire him.

He bends down to pick up more boxes, and you cock your head to the side to stare at the way his ass looks in those jeans. He’s also insanely attractive. It’s no wonder you still come in here every day.

The more you see of him, the more you feel you know him, and the more you’ve grown to like him. The problem is that your relationship with the shopkeeper has shifted into a weird territory you’re not sure how to escape from. It’s not that you hate each other, but it seems you can’t hold a conversation without getting on each other’s nerves. Either you’re always saying the wrong thing or he’s pressing all the wrong buttons when he teases you.

At first you read his teasing as awkward flirting but for someone so blunt, you’ve convinced yourself he would have been straightforward and said the words out loud. I like you. Let’s get a drink. It would be easy for him to say, wouldn’t it? Despite trying to convince yourself he’s not interested, you can’t help but flirt with him at any opportunity to do so. However, you seem to forget how the moment he looks at you. It’s like your flirting skills took an exit down a shitty highway and now you’ve lost the GPS signal to navigate back to civilization.

Talking with Yoongi has become an ache you can’t seem to give up so you’ll take whatever excuse you can to keep doing so. That usually takes the form of you poking fun at one another until you hurt your own feelings. Sometimes you spend the remainder of a day thinking about the ways you can fix tomorrow’s fictitious conversation. You forgot how being infatuated with someone can make you feel so stupid. He’s not your life, just a part that you wish could be more prominent. It’s fine.

All you have to do is get your morning beverage and pastry before working your shift. Then you can focus on how nice it will feel to do nothing all weekend and catch up on TV shows.

“So…. What did you do with it? Are you hiding them from me today?” You quickly snap your eyes to his face as he twists his body to look up at you.

He scoffs. “Not me. College kids came through last night and cleared them out.”

“But you know I always get one,” you pout, crossing your arms like it’s going to make a difference.

He turns his attention back to his task, slowly stacking the boxes in silence before he clicks his tongue. “So? I can’t just hide stuff for you, you know.”

“Don’t you have more in the back? You’ve never run out of Hot6 before.”

He laughs to himself. “This isn’t a warehouse. I have to wait for product to arrive before I can restock. Just get a Red Bull. It tastes the same.”

You crinkle your nose at him. “It does not.”

He crosses the store with a roll of his eyes and a loud sigh. Before long he’s back at the register and sipping on his iced americano. “Whatever. Why do you care? It’s easier if you develop a taste for espresso. Then you don’t have to worry about that kind of thing. Besides, energy drinks aren’t that great for you, you know.”

You make a sound of disgust as you sulk your way over to the pastry cabinet. “Jeez. Do you always have to have such a stick in your ass? You act like coffee is so much better for you.”

“More caffeine, less sugar. I guarantee you it’s better,” he says with a smack of his lips against his straw.

“Whatever, Grandpa. Hmm... Muffin, muffin, muffin…” you quietly chant to yourself as your eyes rake over the racks in search of your daily pastry fix. Today seems to be against you: no muffins.

“We’re out of those too,” he says. “You know you could stand to change up your routine. Don’t you get sick of getting the same things every day?”

You bite your lip and look over the case of pastries, grabbing a simple croissant. “I like my routine, but I guess I could always stop coming here.”

“If that’s what you want.” He sighs dramatically as he leans over the counter, resting on his elbows as he surveys the store. “Well, I could enjoy a quiet morning for once.”

You roll your eyes.“Pfft. You like to argue, so I know you’d miss me.”

There’s a squeaky laugh from behind one of the shelves and as your attention shifts to the sound, a young man with dusty pink hair pokes his head up. He must be rather tall if he’s able to look over the aisles. You quirk an eyebrow at his strange laughter and wonder what kind of stranger could be so entertained by the pair of you.

“Sorry. It’s just…” He holds up a card that neither of you can really make out at this distance. “On the front it says ‘It’s Your Birthday?’ and inside it says ‘Alpaca my party hat!’. Ha! And there’s this pop-up of the alpaca with a bandana and party hat.” He giggles again as he opens and closes the card a few times and waves his hand. “Sorry. Sorry. You can continue flirting now.”

“This is not—” Your breath catches in your throat and you have to take a moment to swallow down your embarrassment before turning back towards Yoongi. “Can you believe this guy?”

He’s in the middle of taking a bite from a half-eaten muffin when your eyes meet his guilty ones. Your jaw falls open as he slowly chews and rings you up, placing the remainder of the pastry back down on the counter.

“You took the last one?”

“I had a craving.” He shrugs.

“You knew I would want it and you took it so I couldn’t have it,” you guess in a playful tone. “Was your aim to make me suffer double today? You’re so cruel, Yoongi.”

He pauses to poke his tongue against his cheek as he handles your change. “It’s not like I planned it. Don’t make me out to be some bad guy.”

“Bad guy. Tch. No, I wouldn’t go that far.” You lean forward, planting your hands on the counter and ensuring a clear sightline into your shirt. “I think you just like getting under my skin.”

He bristles at your words, taking the bait and dropping his gaze to the lace exposed for his eyes. He licks his lips and lazily lets his eyes drift back to your face, his expression unreadable. “Maybe that’s true.”

You cock your head and smirk as you stand up straight, your ego slightly inflated. “Is it really so hard to be nice to me? I’m nice to you.”

“Hah!” He breaks into an amused grin. “When?”

You’re taken aback by his response. Surely you’ve been obvious with your infatuation up to this point. You scoff. “Wha- All the time!”

His brows furrow and he crosses his arms with the change still trapped in his palm. “So complaining is a form of politeness now? Then I should be grateful for how often you shower me with kindness.”

“You know I do more than complain! I complain because you complain to me!” you pout, pointing your finger at him. “Maybe we could talk about something meaningful if you ever cared enough to ask.”

His eyebrows raise with the pitch of your voice. It’s not a big deal. This is stupid. You’re overreacting because you like him. You know he’s fucking with you so why is your face still getting hot? Even if he’s joking, he’s planted the seed in your mind that he sees you as a grumpy customer. He’s clearly never thought of you as anything but a negative start to his day. You’ve seen him be sweet but right now he feels as bitter and cold as the coffee he drinks.

“What do you think of this?” the pink-haired stranger asks, donning a pair of thick black frames with orange-tinted lenses.

The man cuts the tension from the room for a brief moment. Yoongi stares at him, his lip curled up in disgust as he slowly shakes his head. When his eyes travel back to yours they seem full of apprehension. Your name rolls off his tongue as though it’s an apology.

“Don’t ‘Y/N’ me. Just give me my change,” you grumble, reaching up for his palm.

His grip is impossible to penetrate. He smiles as you struggle to work your fingers beneath his, shaking his head like you’ve revealed some embarrassing secret. Heat builds in your face the longer you stand there fidgeting with his hand. You feel like a fool.

“You’re obnoxious. Let me count it out first,” Yoongi sneers while trying to pull his hand back.

“It’s fine.” You roll your eyes and yank his hand towards you. “I don’t need you to count it.”

“You know what I think you need?”

The other customer leans beside the counter, a new pair of glasses on his face that are twice as hideous as the first pair. As you turn to look at the stranger you can see the pair of you reflected in hues of red and yellow in those disturbingly 90s opaque lenses. It almost looks like you’re holding hands. You stiffen at the sight but keep your fingers locked against Yoongi’s calloused ones as you focus on the pricetag dangling across the man’s nose.

The stranger slowly moves a closed fist above the place where your hand and Yoongi’s meet. He waits a few seconds until you’re both focused on his hand before a flash of silver falls from his palm. You almost mistake the shapes for identical necklaces until they untangle and rotate to reveal two halves that form a heart.

The fluorescent lights of the store highlight the engraved text on each. One says ‘BEST’ while the other half reads ‘FRIENDS’. The faux-metal irritates your neck the moment you think about it touching your skin. The chains appear fragile and cheap, like they might break at the slightest amount of tension. If this guy thinks you’re going to take these he must be delusional.

You exchange a quizzical look with Yoongi as the necklaces dangle between you. He’s distracted enough that you’re able to pry your change from his sweaty palm.

“Uh. No thanks,” you say, shoving the coins in your pocket before grabbing your croissant. You take a moment to regard Yoongi with a scowl, cocking your head to the side. “See you, Grandpa.”

The stone in his gut sinks as he watches you leave but he forces his attention to the pink haired stranger in the obscenely reflective glasses.

“You know, I think she likes you,” he whispers with a wink.

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It’s been a long day but at least you don’t have to go out tomorrow. You’ve already changed into your favorite pair of comfy shorts but as you move to unbutton your work shirt something smacks against your chest. Did something get trapped in your cleavage?

“What the fuck?”

As you look down your stomach does a somersault. There’s a necklace draped around your neck with a half-broken heart pendant, etched with the word ‘BEST’. How did that guy sneak this ugly thing onto you? How did you not feel it until now? Maybe he’s some sort of street magician. Your shock is accompanied by a chuckle as you reach behind your neck to fidget with the clasp. Spinning the chain between your fingertips, you soon realize there isn’t one. This thing feels like a dollar store trinket, so you curl your fingers around the charm and pull down with all of your might. It remains secure around your neck no matter how hard you tug.

Your mind begins to break into a panic. What the fuck? What the fuck. What. The actual. Fuck.

You quickly throw on a pair of sneakers and nab the keys hanging near the door on your way out of the apartment. It's hard to believe the speed at which your feet carry you down the several flights of stairs. A couple scrambles out of the way as they watch your frenzied descent. Before long you're pressing the entirety of your body against the familiar door of the convenience store across the street.

The clerk looks up from his phone, his dark eyebrows raised in surprise as you stumble past the threshold. Your body nearly folds in half as you plant your hands on your knees and struggle to catch your breath.

"Are you alright?"

You force yourself to stand up straight to address the man standing behind the counter. The word is devoid of conviction as it leaves your mouth. "Yeah."

You know him as Tae, one of Yoongi's part-time employees. Yoongi offered him a job when he heard him say he was looking for work to supplement his endeavors to put himself through art school. You’ve seen him a lot, spoken a little here and there, and he even knows you by name now. If he's here, it's probable that his boss is not. You sigh loudly in an attempt to relieve some of the panic and frustration built up in your brain. It's not like you can just ask Tae to give you Yoongi’s number.

Tae’s wide-eyed stare indicates his concern for your well being but it’s not until he drags his gaze across your body and purses his lips that you feel something is amiss. It's at this point that you realize how much the air conditioner billows the fabric of your work shirt. Goosebumps form along your calves as all of the blood in your body rushes to your face. You quickly cross your arms over your chest to conceal the half-unbuttoned shirt and the bra that pokes out from beneath it. There’s little you can do to cover the expanse of your legs while wearing such form-fitting shorts.

“I was just… checking to see if you have any Hot6,” you say with barely a glance in the direction of the refrigerator section. “But it’s clear you’re still out.”

Tae raises his eyebrows and grants you a subtle, uncertain nod as your eyes settle on the door that reads ‘EMPLOYEES ONLY.’

“Is your boss here?” you blurt, reaching for the chain around your neck. “I’ve got a—”

Your stomach drops. It’s gone. Both of your hands instinctively smack at your collarbones, like frantically patting against your flesh will cause the necklace to reappear. You hold your shirt open wide enough to peer down at the skin of your chest with a concentrated gaze, eyes begging for any trace of the tacky piece of jewelry to resurface. Was it really just a figment of your imagination? You swear it was there. You felt it. You pulled on it. It had to be real.

You swallow hard and quickly bounce your eyes to the uncomfortable-looking cashier. All you can offer is a weak chuckle as you try to play it off by shaking out your shirt. “Sorry… I thought there was a bug."

There's an awkward, heavy silence between you as he nods with pursed lips. There's no way this poor guy believes your delusional ass. "Bossman's gone for tonight. Seemed kinda beat."

"Oh."

Your eyes settle on the countertop as your brain tries to rationalize what kind of unresolved issues at work are causing your mental breakdown. You stand there while spacing out, barely blinking. You can't believe you imagined that. Not knowing what to do, Tae walks his fingers towards the miniature cans of Red Bull stacked on the counter. He gracefully sweeps his hand around a can and offers it to you. That breaks you from your daze.

"It kinda tastes the same." He attempts to cut the tension with an endearingly awkward, close-mouthed smile. "My treat?"

If it were Yoongi saying such a thing you might scowl and tell him that he must be delusional if he thinks they're the same. Tae is a much kinder soul. You find yourself softening at his suggestion and shake your head.

"You know I should probably lay off the energy drinks now that I think about it," you say. "Have a good night, Tae."

"Goodnight, Y/N!" he calls after you as you wander back through the door. He leans over the counter. "Oh, hey wait! Do you want me to let bossman know you were looking for him?"

"It's fine!" you shout back on autopilot. You're already sinking into a pool of your own thoughts as the door closes behind you.

It was not fine.

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Sleep does not come easy despite your exhaustion. You find yourself tossing and turning all night. When the light begins to stream through your blinds it seems to strike at the perfect angle to blind your fluttering eyes. You pull the blankets up over your head even though you know it’s of no use; you’re already awake and there’s no going back to sleep now.

You stretch out with a yawn as you sleepily shuffle from the bed to the tiny bathroom around the corner of your room. It’s easy to apply toothpaste to your toothbrush on autopilot, taking a moment to rub your knuckles against an eye before glancing up towards the mirror. How bad is the bedhead today?

The sight that greets you causes you to drop your toothbrush in the sink and stumble back out of the doorway. Your fingers grip the frame to keep you on your feet, your attention quickly drawn to the thick digits situated there. As you force yourself forward, you support yourself with one hand on the counter and bring the other up for inspection. The foreign hand trembles as you turn it back and forth while trying to catch the breath that keeps running away from you. Anxiety sinks its teeth deeper into your lungs, causing a puncture that has you gasping for air.

Calluses adorn your fingertips, accompanied by scratches and scars from moments you've never experienced. Your nails are jagged and short, devoid of the pleasing pink color you applied to them two days ago. You dread the journey your eyes threaten to make towards the mirror once again but you find that you are unable to stop them. The face staring back at you with saucer-wide eyes is none other than Min Yoongi.

Your head feels light. This face is fake. You gasp for the air you can't seem to get enough of and stumble out of the bathroom. The walls seem to wobble in place as you race towards the living room where you can feel the breeze flowing through the window you left open last night. This world is fake. Nothing is real. Air will fix this. If you could just breathe like a normal person everything would be okay.

You fall to your knees within spitting distance of the window. For all the air your body greedily sucks inward, your mind feels bereft of any. Your vision goes dark.

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Yoongi does his best to make his way up the stairs with poise, but he's almost sure it looks like a waddle more than anything. His thighs --your thighs-- are chafing from the run here and each step is a painful reminder of the irritated flesh still rubbing together beneath these sweatpants. At least one of your neighbors was kind enough to let him into the main entrance. They must have recognized the face he mysteriously woke up with. Luckily your mailbox has your last name on it and as much as you might disagree he does pay attention when you talk.

He tries to wipe the sweat from his brow as he bends down to plant his hands on his knees. Even as his breath recovers, he grows increasingly frustrated with how heavy his chest feels. He repeatedly pushes the hair from his face with a groan, wishing he had taken the scissors to it when he had the opportunity earlier. He takes off the cap atop his head, runs his fingers through his hair, and places it back on his head. Everything is too much. You need to fix this. Take it back.

The faster he tries to ascend the stairs, the more he aches. He finally gives up on looking civil when he decides there's no one else in the stairwell to judge him. After all they'll only remember you anyway so what does it matter? He rolls the sweatpants up above his knees and cups the breasts hidden beneath the oversized sweater for support as he scrambles up the last few floors.

He grimaces at the dainty pink fingernails before curling his hand into a fist and rapping his knuckles against your door. He puffs his cheeks out and expels a long breath. What could you possibly be doing? You have to be in there. He tries the handle to no avail. Are you still asleep? He quickly abandons the need for subtlety and places both palms on the door and drums loudly against it. The sound of the deadbolt unlocking tells him he shouldn't hesitate. He's through the door before you can even properly get off your knees.

Somehow you knew what would be waiting for you on the other side. The sight before you has your mind reeling. That's your body, but it's not you. Could it really be Yoongi? You did not get Freaky-Friday'd with him. There's no fucking way this is reality. You can feel yourself panicking again as you back away from the figure, falling back on your ass. You watch yourself look down at you with a look of disgust.

"What are you doing?" That's definitely your voice.

Your body takes slow steps towards you as it crosses one arm over the other. You lean back on your elbows and groan. It's a deep sound, deeper than anything that's come from your throat even on your sickest day. This isn’t happening.

"Oh my god. I'm fucking dying," you murmur while tilting your head towards the ceiling. "Everything is fake. Nothing is real. I’m going crazy. Please let me rot."

The figure bends down and leans over into your field of vision. The image of your face frowns back at you and pokes you in the chest with a pointed fingernail.

“Stop that.”

“I can’t,” you whine between heavy breaths. “I feel like I’m gonna pass out again.

“Y/N. Look at me.”

Those perfectly manicured hands reach out for your shoulders in comfort but you fall flat on your back and your arm flies up to cover your eyes.Tears sting at them as reality warbles around you again. Seeing your own face hovering above you definitely isn’t helping you feel more sane.

"I don't know what's happening," you sob.

With each breath you suck between your quivering lips, your chest aches. Suddenly that pair of hands is cupping your jaw and pushing your arm aside. You look into the eyes you are already so familiar with, but they seem far more caring than you’ve ever managed to display.

"We need to undo whatever is happening right now," he says calmly. "You don't have to like it. You don't have to tell me you're okay. But I need you to sit up and pull yourself together long enough to help me figure this out. Can you do that?"

You swallow hard and nod slowly as you take the hand offered to you. A half-smirk appears on his lips; it's strange to see yourself reflected with such warmth, especially knowing it's coming from Yoongi.

"Good. Now please go change. I can't look at those shorts anymore.”

You look down at your attire for the first time and realize how absurd Yoongi’s body looks in the clothing you wore to bed. The skimpy tank top clings to the muscular, flat chest you now possess. Worse still, you can see bits of flesh poking out against that hairy inner thigh below. You squeeze your eyes shut and pretend like you can forget what you just saw sticking out of your shorts.

You take a deep breath as your face burns with embarrassment. “Okay. Give me your pants.”

He stiffens at your demand and scoffs. “What?”

“I don’t have anything that will fit you— er, I mean, me. Us?” You gesture at your body and stare at the floor, trying to will yourself to not dissociate. “This. You can’t be comfortable either.”

There’s a sigh before he plops down on your couch with legs spread wide open. “My back hurts and my thighs rubbed together so much I don’t want to move anymore.”

You can’t help but laugh at the admission. At least he feels your pain. He looks up at you while reclining his head on the cushion behind him. You’re not hyperventilating anymore so distraction seems to be the key to keeping you relatively calm.

“Why you, of all people?” he wonders.

You roll your eyes and stomp across the room and disappear into your bedroom. “Hmph. I was about to ask you the same thing. This is bullshit.”

You come back with a handful of carefully selected clothes and strappy undergarments that you know for a fact flatter your shape. If he has to walk around in your skin the least he can do is make it look good. You pause halfway down the hall and swallow hard as it dawns on you that he’s going to have to get naked in order to change, which means he’s unavoidably going to be looking at your body without any barriers. You decide you’re going to be strong and you simply won’t think about it or acknowledge it as a possibility.

He’s busy chewing one of your nails when you reach the living room again. You hug the clothes close to your chest and storm across the room.

“Do you bite your nails?! Ew! God, no wonder yours are so jagged and gross,” you complain, thrusting the clothes into his lap.

He offers an apologetic look before glancing down at the attire you’ve supplied with raised eyebrows. He picks up the bra with one finger and grimaces at the way it dangles off his digit. He’s looking up at you with pleading eyes shortly after it falls back in his lap. It’s hard to avoid his gaze. You feel those pupils boring into your skull as you dart your eyes away to focus on the floor.

You clear your throat and muster every last bit of courage you possess. “Um… Your clothes, please?”

He inhales loudly through his nose and you watch the grey sweatpants pool around the toenails you just painted last night. You swallow hard and scramble to pick them up when they slide across the wooden floor to you. You clutch them to your chest, quickly catching the scent of your sweat and arousal on them. Maybe he hasn’t noticed? Trying to suppress the mortification growing in your chest, you purse your lips and trail your gaze back up to his face--your face. Thankfully the hoodie covers your sex and you’re hoping he hasn’t bothered taking a peek before coming here.

“Don’t… Don’t look,” you plead. So much for not acknowledging it.

He’s feeding his arm through one of the sleeves when he freezes in place and locks eyes with you. “I should tell you I woke up shirtless,” he mumbles. As if to lessen the blow of his admission, he continues with a pout, “But you can’t blame me for looking. It’s hard not to look at a pair of perfect tits that mysteriously appear in the middle of the night. What was I supposed to do?”

Perfect tits? You’d almost be flattered if it wasn’t so fucking morifying to know he’s already seen you. Your eyes screw shut and you nod. “Right.”

This is fine. This is absolutely fine.

“Hey,” he calls softly, prodding you to open your eyes. “Here.”

He keeps eye contact with you while feeding his other arm through the sleeve. Watching yourself strip without performing the act is bizarre. He holds the sweater out for you to slowly take. It eases your mind to see his gaze never wavered. Yours drops to the nude form before you and suddenly you’re criticizing every curve and flaw you can find. It’s as though you’re simply standing before a mirror and feeding your insecurity with needless scrutiny. Despite this, Yoongi remains focused on your face and the discomfort you display so openly at seeing your own form stripped bare. Almost bare. That beat-up baseball cap he wears every day now adorns your head like a crown for your mediocrity.

You spin on your heels and speedwalk down the hall. “I’ll be right back.”

It’s hard to ignore the new appendage you’ve acquired but you make sure to shut your eyes while peeling the shorts from your thighs and sliding the sweatpants up in their stead. While you rushed through the bottom half of your attire, you stop for a minute to inspect Yoongi’s bare pectorals. It’s all too easy to get lost in the sight of his body in the mirror. You subconsciously lick your lips and run your fingers across your flat, hard chest.

Your thumb circles a brown nipple and you watch with satisfaction as it grows hard at your touch. Your palms press down over your stomach, feeling the muscles hidden just below the surface of soft flesh. You grab at your hips, fingers threatening to dart below the band of your pants. Instead you suck air in through your nose and scold yourself for such weakness. You’re about to tug the sweater over your head when Yoongi silently enters and flops down on the bed face-first.

“Yoongi? Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?!” you shriek in your haste to cover up your own moment of weakness.

There’s a muffled response spoken into the mattress that you can’t quite understand.

"What?" Annoyance is a front for your embarrassment.

He turns his head to one side and sighs. "There are too many straps. Why did you pick such a difficult one?"

You definitely selected something with a lot of extra straps for a reason but you bite your lip and try to come up with an excuse that seems plausible. The truth is that you wanted to pick something sexy because you wanted him to see you as such. Does he care though? It's hard to tell. You decide the best excuse is to dismiss the question altogether.

"Stop being such a baby. I'll help you."

As he lifts his head to cringe in your direction, you're already out the door. He pounds his forehead against the mattress again and squeezes his eyes shut. There's clearly no logical explanation for this, so what is the next step to take? What should the pair of you do? Is this permanent? There has to be a way to undo whatever has happened. In order to figure that out he's trying to piece together the source of this predicament. No matter how hard he wracks his brain for answers to the puzzle, there still seems to be pieces missing.

"Get up. Come on," you huff, tugging at his arm.

The sound he makes is pitiful and whiny as he rises. It's easy enough to see where his arms are supposed to go when you've already bunched all of the material together. You step behind him and fiddle with the fit around the familiar mounds of flesh at his front. He instinctively looks down to watch how his own familiar fingers slide beneath the bra. He pries his eyes away just as quickly to find he has a much better view of the pair of you in the mirror.

There's a sight he'd never thought he'd see: both of you shirtless with his hands in your bra. It's not that he's never wanted it. It's just that he always seems to fuck it up when it comes to being social, with you in particular. Maybe it's because he likes you too much. There's never been a proper opportunity to make a move outside of work and he knows his flirting skills are abysmal. But looking at the reflection of the pair of you now fills him with equal amounts of desire and confidence.

Just as you’re about to clasp the first strap behind his neck you glance up and find yourself lost in the same reflection. An electric blush creeps up your spine and causes a tingle in your cheeks that makes you freeze like a deer caught in headlights. He hums a soft sound and makes the decision to reach back for your wrist. For a moment you’re not sure if you’re moving or if he is but you find yourself enjoying the sight of Yoongi’s thick fingers dipping below the fabric of your bra.

“Yoongi?” you ask, jaw hanging slack as the bra slips a bit further down.

“Do you feel that?” The voice is quiet as he lets you trace fingers along the soft skin. “It pinches there.”

That pinch is a familiar one but you always tell yourself that’s the price of beauty. The straps chafe. The underwire digs into your ribs. It’s uncomfortable. But it’s the sexiest-looking thing you own so comfort be damned. You watch it slide further down to reveal one of your nipples in the reflection of the mirror; it’s impossible to look away. So much for him not looking anymore. You can’t blame him because it’s impossible for you to take your eyes off it too. The sight of Yoongi’s thick fingers trailing along the side of your breast sends a surge of excitement through your veins.

Goosebumps form a path where your fingers have traced and Yoongi exhales a shaky breath. The sound makes you chew on your bottom lip in contemplation. Is he feeling just as turned on right now? You try to remind yourself that the mirror is a lie. He’s not touching you. You’re touching him, regardless of how it looks. You can’t let your feelings cloud your judgement. It’s so fucking hard to think straight now that you’re together like this, not just because he’s here in your room but because he’s experiencing the unique arousal of his body while trapped in yours.

“Being a girl sucks. What am I supposed to do about it?” Your fingers tremble as you force your eyes to meet his in the mirror.

The action does not go unnoticed. He smirks and quirks a brow but chooses to let it slide without commenting. “Give me something easy and comfy.”

“But—” You hesitate. Do you really need to argue about this? You can’t explain it without admitting your feelings towards him. It seems like an inopportune time, more so than usual. It’s better if you can just shut the fuck up for two seconds and work on the important task at hand: figuring out how to get back to normal.

He immediately fills the gap with an objection of his own. “Why does it matter?”

“It doesn’t,” you say in the flattest tone you can muster.

He turns around to get a better read on your body language but you’re already rummaging through your drawers. You toss a sports bra with a front-facing zipper at him while you don the sweater and slip into the bathroom to relieve yourself. It’s best to avoid situations like that again if you can.

Yoongi takes this moment to inspect the room, crinkling his nose at the several empty cans of Hot6 stacked on top of your dresser. He brings a long manicured nail to his teeth and begins working it back and forth as he slides the folding closet door open with a finger. Much to his surprise your wardrobe is filled with t-shirts that look much more comfortable than the piece you previously selected. He’s quick to trade shirts and carefully replaces the clothing on the hanger before sitting on the edge of the bed and leaning back on his elbows. Comfy. Finally. His attention is drawn to the closed bathroom door. It’s been a while. Are you okay?

“You better not be passed out in there,” he whines, making sure to sound extra annoying for you.

The attempt to conceal the concern in his tone is successful but he’s happy you’re not able to see his worried expression. If you knew how badly he wants to freak out, you might actually start hyperventilating again. He’d like to avoid that. The door swings open and you exhale deeply. You’re not about to tell him you had to wait out the boner because then he’d probably make fun of you. He watches you take a few steps forward while wedging a nail between his teeth.

“Are you biting my fucking nails again?”

“Yup.”

You’re already scrambling across the bed and by the time he moves to shuffle backwards you have his wrists pinned against your soft comforter and you’re straddling his waist. Oh god. This is too fucking hot to be doing with him while he’s in your body. Abort. Abort!

It’s now that you note he’s wearing a soft cotton t-shirt you definitely did not pick out. “Yoongi, did you—”

“These clothes are better. Did you give me the most uncomfortable things you own just to make me suffer for stealing your muffin?”

Between the sports bra and the t-shirt he’s selected the curves of your body are lost to your eyes and your heart sinks. There goes any chance you had of him thinking your body is sexy. He’s expecting a tongue lashing but you sigh instead and release your hold on him, quickly climbing off his form before you can let your body get you into trouble. You search for the laptop that you know is hidden just beneath the covers near your pillows.

“Pfft. Look, maybe we can google what happened to us and not get Freaky Friday movie reviews. You wanna see if it works?”

He offers a half smirk in response and he’s quiet only for a second before he hums a sound of distaste. It’s an accusation and you know it. He quickly scoots back towards the pillows so he can sit beside you.

You scowl as you mistype your own password. “Ugh. What?”

“I’m just wondering why you’re so mad.”

“I’m not.”

You make sure to broadcast the fact that you’re definitely not mad by repeatedly tapping the delete key in a slow, deliberate motion.

“Why does your face look like that then?” he prods while folding his hands across his lap.

“Like what? You of all people should know that your face always looks this grumpy.”

As he rests his head against the fluffy material behind him, he lazily rolls his head towards you. “Y/N.”

You dramatically throw your head back against the pillows and mirror his stare. “Yoongi.”

“What is it?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you mumble.

“It clearly does,” he says with a roll of his eyes. “We have to work together to figure this out, so some honesty might be nice.”

You open the laptop and stare at the password screen for a moment with a longing sigh. “Fine. I look gross in those,” you admit with a brief glance at his attire. “You’re making me look like an unsexy blob.”

He scoffs. “What? Is that all? You’re being ridiculous. These clothes don’t matter at all. We both know what you look like underneath them. Honestly, you could be wearing a trashbag and still be sexy.”

“To whom?” You want to laugh at how absurd his explanation sounds. “What kind of lunatic would think that?”

He blinks slowly and raises his eyebrows with a calculated clench of his jaw. “Me. For starters.”

He’s stiff as he purses his lips and crosses his arms. He stares at the login screen, waiting for you to type your password. “And any sane man or woman with a pair of eyes and a brain.”

Your mouth falls open in disbelief mid-stroke. Was that a confession? Your head might as well be full of helium with how high you’re feeling. This has to be a dream. If the insane concept of switching bodies with Yoongi isn’t enough to solidify it, those words sure are. You have to be dreaming.

Your eyes remain locked onto the fingers now resting against the keys. “Do you really think that?”

“Yes.” The response comes quicker than expected but instead of giving you time to ruminate on it, he nudges you with his elbow. “Password.”

Your shoulders lift with a deep inhale through your nose and drop back down with the subsequent forceful exhale through your lips. What are you supposed to do with that information? You feel your consciousness try to lift into the aether. If you could only make it float back into your own body, you might have the courage to say something, anything. With your mind drifting away, your fingers move of their own accord as they type in the password to your laptop.

"Whoa, what the fuck is that?"

The video you'd left open last night starts up with a preview that brings you back to reality, but not fast enough.

"D-Don't look! It's private!" you screech.

Heat pulses through the veins along the sides of your forehead. Precious seconds have already been wasted by the time you frantically scramble to close the tab. He's seen the keywords in the search bar and the nastiest bits of that particular video. You're fucking mortified.

“I mean that’s definitely a couple privates," he jokes with a laugh. "You seriously just leave your porn out like that?"

”Incognito mode, Yoongi," you sneer while pulling up a new tab. "I don’t need you or my FBI guy judging me.”

He snorts. “Oh come on, Y/N. The FBI doesn’t care about your porn preferences. And neither do I. Besides, you technically looked at it with my eyes already.”

He taps the side of your forehead gently as if you needed the reminder that you're not in your own skin and you swat him away. You quickly type the phrase “body swap” into the search bar and try to focus on the resulting web pages even though you’re distracted by the blood leaving your brain in favor of other body parts.

"Can you just… Shut up for one second?"

"Hey, I'm just saying..." He clicks his tongue thoughtfully as he scooches closer to you. "You’re into some good stuff. We might have more in common than I thought."

Butterflies erupt in your stomach at the physical contact and send a tingling electricity down your abdomen. You clear your throat and reposition the computer over your lap as you feel yourself growing harder. You stare down at the two fingers settled on the trackpad rather than the information on screen. Try as you might to remain inconspicuous, suddenly all you can think about are those thick fingers rubbing hard circles against your clit while the two of you watch porn together. Bad thought. Baaaaaad. You attempt to pass the laptop over to him as discreetly as possible while shifting your pelvis away towards the edge of the bed.

“I’m…” You flounder for an excuse to leave the room and get these racing hormones under control. “...pee.”

“What?” There's a quizzical expression branded upon his features that toes the line of disgust.

“I have to pee,” you quickly correct while tactically holding your forearm over your lap. If there is such a thing as fate, why is it torturing you like this?

“Again?”

You push the laptop towards him once more and pray that he’ll just let you go be embarrassed alone in the bathroom for five minutes. Instead he looks down at the way your forearms cross your pelvis and exudes a deep, throaty laugh that sounds foreign in the tenor of your voice. That laughter travels through your head like it’s made of hot coals.

“Wow. Got a boner, huh?”

Your cheeks are made of fire. Literal fire. They feel like they should melt straight through your skin and torch your brain yet here you are: still alive and wishing you would burn to death. God is dead. There is no mercy in this universe.

"Don't fucking laugh at me! I can't control it!"

When he laughs harder, the urge to silence him overtakes all rational thought. You reach for a lock of hair sticking out from beneath his cap and pull hard. He hisses through his teeth and you smirk, knowing what kind of response this would normally elicit from your body. Will it affect him the same, or is the sexual response guided by mental preference rather than physical? Maybe it’s both. It seems to have some effect because he’s stopped laughing.

Yoongi shivers as goosebumps riddle his arms and prickle along his chest until his nipples are threatening to poke holes through the thin fabric of the bra and t-shirt. His jaw tightens and on instinct his hand shoots up to grasp at the short black hair adorning your head in retaliation. He catches himself before he pursues the motion of yanking down. What is he doing? Can he really be so bold with you? He knows you, but not like this. Things are strange right now but if he keeps going they're bound to get stranger. If the butterflies in his stomach weren't enough to tip him off to his attraction to you, even like this, the wetness between these thighs solidifies the magnetism you hold over him.

A pitiful sound escapes your lips that hints at your disappointment. “Mmm?"

He pauses there to inspect your expression, tilting his head as though it will give him a better read. He should be able to interpret his own expression but looking at his face through your eyes doesn't seem to help at all. Because he's studied your features for so long it's hard to see what you're feeling now that he can't see them at work. His palm flattens against your scalp and he allows his fingers to wander through the thick black hair he's combed out a million times. Somehow it feels softer in your hands. Soon he finds his hand cupping the back of your neck. Labored breaths swim in the space between the pair of you, but it's hard to tell who they belong to.

"What are you doing?" you whisper as your fingers reach for the brim of his cap.

"What are you doing?" he echoes back.

Have your eyes always looked so fierce, or is it his persona breathing a dark fire into them now? You flick the cap off his head, which releases all the hair he had trapped underneath it. You push it back from his face and tangle your fingers within it.

"Pretending like this isn't just you wanting to make out with yourself to see what it's like," you answer, staring at the reflection in his eyes. "You?"

There's a smirk that grows into a full blown grin within seconds. "Trying to convince myself that it isn't insane to want to make out with myself just to see what it's like."

You scoff and drop your hands to his shoulders to give him a firm push back. "Dick."

He giggles at the way you pout and halfheartedly pushes the laptop towards the other side of the bed. The hand still on the back of your neck travels up to massage your scalp and suddenly you're putty in his palm. His other hand trails along your stubbly jaw until his fingers are nestled behind your ear. As he glances down at the tent in your pants he laughs.

"Still hard?"

"Like your nipples," you grumble.

You reach out and twist the peaks barely hidden beneath his shirt; it's an impulse you don't refuse. This time he moans.

"Oh, you liked that, hmm? I bet you're so fucking wet right now," you whisper, embracing your boldness.

You watch his eyes roll with the flutter of his lashes at your words. Both of his hands glide through your hair and he begins to flex his fingers around some strands. He alternates between releasing his gentle grip on your locks and twisting his fingers back into them. You’re making him crazy. Should he even bother trying to compose himself at this point?

“What?” you prod, pushing the limits of his endurance for such brattiness. “Aren’t you going to pull my hair, Yoongi?”

The way he glares at you causes your skin to break out in a series of goosebumps. How can you be shivering when your body was just doing its best impression of molten rock? Yoongi. That’s the answer. You whimper a pathetic sound as his knuckles curl towards your scalp. The motion brings your forehead down to meet his and your eyelids flutter closed. He focuses heavy breaths out through his nose and stares at the lips he knows are his own. They may be part of his usual physical appearance but right now they’re a part of yours.

“You’re so fucking obnoxious.”

He sucks his bottom lip through his teeth and moves towards you before he can second guess what he's about to do. His lips seem to meld with yours and your eyes pop open to be sure this is really happening. Is this really happening? You see your own nose and heavy lidded eyes peeking open just enough to roll back in pleasure.

The hands buried in your hair drop to cradle your jaw and you can feel the stubble scraping against the delicate skin of his fingers as he drags his hands slowly towards your chin. You melt into his touch and hold your breath like you'll never inhale another again. Suddenly you're kissing him back and no amount of lightheadedness can stop you.

Oh shit. This is happening. It’s not anything like your daydreams but it’s real and it feels so fucking good. It feels surreal. It feels too surreal. Maybe the lightheadedness can stop you. It's you, but it's not. Your eyes open again and you find a battle of anxiety raging in your brain. He pauses to peck the edge of your mouth when he realizes you're no longer kissing him back.

"What are you doing?" he murmurs, resting his forehead against yours. “Did I… read that wrong?”

“No! No, I’ve wanted to do that for a while. It’s just…” A laugh bubbles from your throat and you shake your head before bursting into a fit of giggles. “This is weird.”

Relief washes over his features and he smiles as he leans back to look at you. “It’s definitely unique. But I can’t say I want to stop.”

His admission fills you with a fresh wave of tingles up your spine. “Me neither. I… still want you.”

You sheepishly turn your head to the side and find the mirror lining the closet wall, looking at the image of the pair of you as if it will save you from the embarrassment of your own words.

"What? Now you're getting shy?" he teases while following you gaze to the reflection. It dawns on him that he can enjoy the view. "Or do you just want to watch?"

He moves towards your lips slowly while keeping focused on the mirror, watching your eyes lazily roll back behind your lids and revelling in the whine this pulls from you.

“Look,” he pleads in low whisper, angling your body so you can get a better view. “Look how good you look with your tongue on my neck.”

Your head lolls around just in time to see exactly that before the sensation snaps across your nerve endings. He latches on, sucking light bruises into the tender flesh. He knows where to put his tongue to have you gripping the back of his neck and arching your back up towards him. He smirks as he glances at the mirror, licking a hot stripe up to your ear where he teasingly nibbles on the lobe.

"Does it look as hot when I--when you...?" You flounder on your words in between soft pants, your eyes trained on the reflection.

He counters with a whisper, “Do you want to find out?”

“I’m… curious,” you admit, leaning your head back to give him access to more of your neck.

“You want to know how it feels,” he lazily mumbles against your neck. “Hmm. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about it.”

“It’s a unique opportunity,” you say, trying to convince yourself that proposing the idea isn’t weird at all. “Maybe we just… See?”

“Right. This is a unique opportunity,” he echoes in agreement, burying his face into the crook of your neck. His voice is muffled as he sighs a heated breath against your skin. “We should take advantage of it.”

“I mean, as long as you don’t tell anyone.”

He pops his head up to look at you, his brows knotted in confusion. “Who would believe me?”

You shake your head and smirk. “I guess you’re right.”

There’s a moment where the concept of time seems to evaporate. You both stare at each other like you’re seeing your own faces for the first time, like it’s the first time you both can actually love and accept yourselves as you are. It’s easier to be gentle with someone else, but now that someone else is technically also a part of you it brings a level of clemency to your feelings regarding your appearance. You like yourself better now that you can see a part of him there.

“Will you show me how you like it?” he asks with a tilt of his head.

“If you show me, too,” you say with a gentle rock of your hips towards him.

“You first.”

Your mouth is already covering the soft expanse of his neck, dragging your teeth with just enough pressure to tease the skin. He watches you work up and down through the mirror, feeling the arousal between his legs building. As you're kissing a path back towards his mouth he takes a chance and swings his leg over your midriff so he's kneeling just above the throbbing cock hidden beneath the thin layer of gray fabric. The jeans dig a hard line into his stomach and limit the range of his spread.

"These pants are horrible," he complains.

"Take them off if you hate them so much," you agree between hungry kisses. It's impossible to keep your eyes from the mirror. He hooks his fingers beneath your sweater and begins working it upwards, stopping only to rest a palm on your chest.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" He trails his fingers down the flat expanse until he gets to your navel, passing over the dark hair leading down into your pants. He tugs at the place where the hair begins to grow thicker and laughs when you hiss an expletive.

He quickly pulls the oversized sweater upwards. Instead of helping you out of it, he clutches the fabric with both hands as you bring your arms above your head and presses you back into the mattress. You find your bent elbows trapped in the sleeves.

“How about this?” he whispers. “Do you like this?”

“Yes.” You look down at the delicious pectorals he’s exposed, practically salivating at the sight of those pert nipples. “Yoongi, please.”

He smirks as he runs his fingers down your chest, ignoring the nipples you wish he would do something about. Lower. Lower. His hand travels behind him until suddenly your body spasms with pleasure from the practiced grip he’s placed on the cock standing at attention behind him.

“This? Does it feel good when I touch you like this?”

“Fuck! Yes. Please. Yes!”

Just as quickly as his hand pressed against your clothed erection, it’s gone, leaving you a whimpering mess. He plants a kiss beside one of your nipples, but denies it any direct contact.

"Stop teasing me," you whine. The pressure in your chest builds with every second that passes and you feel like your heart is going to burst.

He lets out a lofty sigh as he sits back on his thighs, promptly removing his t-shirt. "But you make it so easy..."

You wiggle out of the arms of the sweater and sit up to unsnap the button to his jeans. You kiss up his stomach until he’s unzipping the bra and letting you nip at the supple flesh for a moment. He discards the bra like it’s nothing before rolling over to unzip his pants. He peels them from his legs along with the soaked panties. It’s hard to not look at the mirror as he climbs over your waist. If he holds any shame for being nude in front of you, it’s not apparent in his current form. Your face, however, feels hot. Your body is exposed and he keeps looking at it, groping those breasts with his hands.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he says quietly, admiring the reflection as he plays with his nipples between his fingers.

You want to bury your face in something to hide your embarrassment so you plant your face between his tits and begin to suck bruises into the soft flesh beside his fingers.

“Oh fuck.” The sight of his own face diving between those squishy tits is enough to make his body involuntarily flex in ways he’s never experienced before.

“How does it feel?” you murmur, slowly licking a path to one of his nipples and lightly dragging your teeth along it.

The sound he makes when he moans has you shivering all over again. He lets his head fall back for a second and then he looks at you. “Like I want you to touch me.”

Now you’re the one who smirks with confidence. “Lay back.”

He snaps the band at your waist as he rolls off of you. “These. Off.”

Manicured fingers slip down to rub some of the tension from the swollen bud between his legs as he watches you awkwardly push the pants down past the cock begging to be touched. You try to avoid looking at it. It’s hard not to feel exposed even though it’s not your body. You scramble back into the bed as quickly as you can. His laughter catches you off guard.

“You’re so shy now. Look at it. Feel it,” he urges. “Grab my cock.”

You try to be casual about your downward glance but the way you lick your lips is anything but casual. You press your thumb into the base of the cock to admire its shape from a 90 degree angle. It’s average in terms of length but your mouth waters at the sight of the bulging veins and increased girth just below the swollen tip. You don’t bother to resist the urge to grip the shaft. You drag your hand up and trace your thumb around the fleshy mauve tip. The sensation causes you to shiver. It’s so sensitive.

As you’re admiring the way it tapers towards the base, soft, thinner fingers curl around yours and begin to guide them into a slow, controlled pumping motion that sets your nerves alight.

He quirks a brow at you. “What do you think?”

“Fuck, Yoongi,” you choke out with a held breath. Greedy gasps break the small silence that follows. Has it always been so hard to speak while masturbating? It’s not like you’re terrible at dirty talk so why are you hesitating?

“Do you need me to stop?”

You fervently shake your head and follow it with a needy groan. “No. Please… Keep going.” You hope he never stops.

“Then use your words” he urges, placing his hand over yours to slow your pace to a crawl.

You whimper. It’s a pathetic sound created with his voice in his throat, yet it still somehow sounds so deliciously like you. While he finds himself attracted to your usual body, it doesn’t bother him that you’re currently assuming a different form. Looks are fleeting anyway. It’s the person inside he’s grown attached to, the caring soul he feels connected to.

He’s seen you stare at the bulletin board near the restroom and tear off the tabs of creative community activities to benefit those in need. If he wasn’t so busy managing the store all the time he would have been able to sign up for those events too. He’s seen you volunteer at the homeless shelter just around the corner. He’s seen you cradling posters for your neighbor’s missing cat— he’d even let you keep one on the door to his store until you told him they found it.

The truth is that your soul is so beautiful and full that he’d want you no matter what you looked like. If only he had the courage to say that. But it's easier to hide behind snark.

“It feels so good,” you whine. “I wish I could put my mouth all over it. Bet you’d fill me so good.”

A growl escapes with his exhale and he guides your fist up and down the girth between your legs with increased vigor. He gently leads you by the dick, pulling you closer to the bed until your knees hit the side.

“Look in the mirror, Y/N. Watch,” he whispers in a low tone, almost begging you to keep your eyes on the reflection.

You do as he says and watch in awe as a set of manicured fingers tap against your chest and trail down to the cock still nestled in your fist. They work their way beneath your palm and shoo your hand away. Even knowing that Yoongi is behind the action, the sight of your hands stroking that perfect cock sets a fire of desire coursing through your veins.

You watch in the mirror as your lips plant kisses on the dark hair beneath Yoongi’s navel. You watch as your head sinks lower and lower until soft, plush lips are skimming the tip of his dick. You watch his length slide into your mouth and immediately your knees threaten to buckle.

His hands are already reaching up to stabilize your stance even as he glides his tongue against you. The pleasure is unlike anything you’ve felt before, but having your clit sucked and teased comes close. It’s heaven. You whimper a tortured sound sitting somewhere between the boundaries of pleasure and anguish. He plays your role so well, maybe even better than you could play it. You attempt to distract yourself from the nervous tremble of your thighs by gathering bits of his hair in your hands and balling it in your fists. He gargles out a muffled moan against you.

“I look so good sucking your pretty cock,” you whisper in awe.

He leans back to swipe his tongue over the slit and then sinks back down, nose hitting the tuft of dark hair at your pelvis as you bottom out in his throat. Your grip around his hair tightens with the slight rock of your hips. You press his face against your crotch like you never want him to leave. The pair of you look so fucking hot. You’re revelling in slow, shallow thrusts deep in his throat when he makes a gagging noise you know all too well. He grips your thighs and you immediately release your hold while pulling your hips back.

“Fuck I’m so sorry!” Heat rises in your face and you want to run and hide.

He rests his palm on your waist and catches his breath, a trail of sticky precum and thick spit connecting his mouth to your cock. It involuntarily flexes and bobs up towards your stomach and then back down, which severs the path of saliva.

“Don’t be. That was hot.” He wipes his lips with the back of his hand.

“Yoongi, you didn’t have to! I mean I was curious but I—”

You’re cut off by his harsh tug on your hands. You stumble forward and meet his dark gaze. How can he make your eyes look so hungry?

“I’m a firm believer in never asking someone to do what I wouldn’t. I like to know what I’m giving, don’t you?”

“God, I wish that were me. I want to taste you so bad,” you whine, licking your lips as you spare a glance down at the glistening appendage standing at attention between your legs. “Wanna taste you dripping off my tongue.”

“You can,” he assures you in a soft voice, cupping your face with his hands.

His lips are on yours in an instant and you’re moaning against them like you’ll never get enough. The salty tang on his tongue transfers to yours as it dips into your mouth. You wish you could take him into your mouth yourself, but this is a good substitute for now.

"You taste good," you pant between kisses. "Why haven't we done this sooner?"

He pulls away to shrug, cocking his head to the side and focusing on your neck. "If you want something you have to speak up. No one can read minds and even if they could, often times people are so wrapped up in their own heads they'd never see what you think.”

"Wow, getting philosophical on me, huh? So… What? I'm just supposed to say, ‘Hey yoongi you're hot. Wanna fuck’?"

"That's a little blunt don't you think?" He laughs, allowing you to push him back onto the mattress. "Been holding that back long?"

Your heart skips a beat, heat flushing your ears. "Maybe. Would it have made a difference?”

He ponders this for a moment as he squints at the ceiling in concentration. "Mmm. I'd say you should at least buy me dinner first… "

You scoff. It’s not a no but it’s not an enthusiastic yes either. You climb onto the mattress, trying to ignore how casually he lays in your bed, completely barren before you.

He rolls onto his side and props his head up to survey your approach. You seem a little nervous so it’s easier for him to fake confidence for both your sakes. "I guess we're both guilty of not saying what we mean."

"What is it you really mean to say then?" If he’s got a juicy secret he’s been holding in, then you want to know to salvage what’s left of your pride.

"I give you shit but I like that you come into the store every day to get your muffin and your gross energy drink. I like when you come back in after just to bitch about your day and pretend like you need a snack that I never see you eat. I like when you ask me about my day, even though you know I’m shit at conversation. It makes me happy because I care about…" he hesitates when he sees your smug grin. "...”

“Yes?” you prod.

He draws a deep breath from his belly. “You. I care about you. I’ve never found an opportunity to tell you that I like you. I’m always working, keeping my store afloat, focused on the numbers and the success of my business. But I see you coming out of that building every day. I watch for you to make sure even after a year of this that you’re still coming here first. It’s crazy but you put me at ease and make me anxious at the same time. I feel like I know you, like I’ve known you all my life.”

He pauses to allow you to interject. When you don’t, he continues, “I feel it in my bones when you smile at me, when you roll your eyes at me, when you try to make me laugh... You’re so easy to fall for. I know that I’m not, but sometimes you look at me and I feel like you want to. I want you to. I wish you would come back when I’m locking up for the night so that I could see you outside of work, so I could take you out, so I could take you home. A thousand possibilities are always running through my head when it comes to you and I freeze when I think about acting on any of them. That’s what I don’t say.”

“Yoongi…” you finally whisper.

Your face scrunches up like you’re about to cry and he grimaces at you, knowing you’re definitely about to do just that.

“Don’t do that. My cheeks look so fat when you do that. Hey, are you listening? Don’t make my face look so ugly!”

His attempts to make you smile simply causes the tears to fall from your eyes. You melt into his embrace, burying your face against his neck as you sob. He places a tentative palm on the back of your head.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, planting a kiss against your hair, “if it’s just me.”

“No, I feel the same way,” you admit, turning your head to kiss his cheek. “You say you’re hard to love but how can that be true when I feel what I feel so easily? I will wait for you to close your shop and walk you home every day if you let me. I will be yours, if you let me.”

He turns your head so that he can bring his lips to yours. They taste salty again for entirely different reasons. Can you feel the way he’s trembling right now? All the relief in the world can’t assuage the ache of carrying such a burden in his chest for so long. The adrenaline is coursing through him like a wildfire, spreading until his lungs are burning with a heat he can’t quell.

“Mine, then,” he whispers, allowing the tears to stream down his cheeks freely. “Mine.”

He tangles his fingers in your hair, pulling you into a passionate kiss that threatens to steal every last bit of oxygen from your lungs. He growls into your mouth, claiming every inch inside with his tongue. He grinds his hips upwards and it’s then you remember that you’re naked and you have a dick that’s still half-hard and growing harder by the second.

You groan loudly. “Fuuuuuck. I want to fuck you so bad right now.”

He pulls back to bite his lip, the intrigue in his features apparent. “You want to try it?”

“I mean… you sucked your own dick for me. You don’t owe me anything—”

“I don’t do anything I don’t want to do. I want to try it,” he says, wriggling his hips beneath you. “Fuck. Me.”

“This is still so weird,” you say with a giggle, your eyes rolling back into your skull when the tip of your cock glides against his clit. “Ah…”

The pair of you pause and slowly repeat the motion. You can feel how wet he is and instead of being embarrassed like you would be in his place, you find it incredibly hot.

“Do it again,” he pleads, spreading his legs further apart to allow you better access.

You look down, pressing your thumb into the base of your cock and carefully glide the tip across the folds between his legs. He hisses an expletive between his teeth when you drag it past his clit and begin rocking your hips back and forth.

“Yeah, just like that,” he whispers through frantic panting and sloppy kisses.

You feel a cramp in your thigh and pull back to nurse the ache. He whines when you slink away from his body, missing the friction on his clit already, although he’s satisfied enough when you circle one of his breasts with your tongue and take a nipple into your mouth. You press light circles into his clit with the pad of your middle finger until you can feel his legs flexing around your body like you’re not giving him enough. His fingers dive beneath yours to tease the swollen bud.

“Let me feel,” he pants. “Let me learn where to touch.”

You carefully guide his movements for a minute while treating his other nipple to the pleasures of your tongue. He seems to get the hang of stimulating himself pretty quickly so you turn your attention towards his thighs. You sink between them and begin kissing the sensitive skin beside his folds. His thighs twitch when you trace circles around his entrance with your tongue. You briefly pause to inspect your fingernails, making sure none of them are a jagged mess from the way he’s bitten them. When you’re satisfied with your inspection you peek up at him.

“You want to try my fingers first?” you ask, feeling envious that you can’t be riding three of them to the knuckle right now. “I can show you how my mouth feels too, though I doubt I’m an expert on that.”

“I don’t care about that.” He lifts his hand so he can peer down at you from between his tits. “I’ll take your mouth anywhere you want to give it.”

He watches as you flick your tongue across the sensitive, slick bundle of nerves. He bucks his hips as you clamp down and roll your tongue back and forth over it. His pretty painted nails look so good digging into your ebony hair. It’s not long until you dip a finger inside his cunt, teasing until you’re bobbing it in and out at a decent pace.

“Oh…” he says, as if he’s surprised that the experience is so pleasurable. “Shit, that’s good. Fuck. I’m gonna....”

You push another finger into him, curling the longest digit as far as you can to try and reach the g-spot you know is hiding nearby. When you finally get it he grips your shoulders and arches his pelvis off the ground like he’s committing to a new yoga routine. You recognize the stiffness in his limbs, the involuntary tremble of his thighs beside your head, the heaving of his chest and the frantic nonsense spilling out from his lips. You focus your energy on his clit, replacing your mouth with your hand since you have more confidence bringing about his climax this way.

His hips stutter and you know he’s riding the line. It’s a little bit more difficult to find that perfect rhythm when your hand isn’t in it’s normal position. The way he sucks in a breath to release his needy whines almost makes you feel guilty. It’s not like you’re trying to edge him but you’re not able to keep that pressure as consistent as you’d like.

“I’m so close,” he pants. “But I keep losing it. I’m sorry.”

You’ve been there plenty of times but you’re desperate to make him cum.

“It’s okay. Don’t be sorry. Rub it, baby. You know what feels good,” you whisper, shifting your attention to fingering his cunt. You don’t call attention to the pet name, but it feels so natural falling from your lips in this moment. You hope he doesn’t mind.

In an instant his fingers replace yours on his clit and he’s building back up. His thighs quake and his back arches off the mattress one more time and you know it’s coming. He’s about to reach his peak.

He takes a sharp inhale and where you expect the loud wails you would normally make while riding out your high, there’s quiet shuddering and softy breathy moans that linger in the air around you. He grabs your wrist with an ironclad grip as soon as he rides the last wave and his sweaty thighs fall limp around your face. You’re grinning like an idiot as he pulls you by the hair towards his lips, desperate to feel you, to taste you. His tongue is exploring every bit it can, trying to steal the essence from your mouth.

“Mmm. I want to taste that sweet pussy every day.“

“Do you… Still want me to fuck you?” You’re really trying not to sound hopeful but you can’t stop thinking about it.

He smirks and wipes the sweat from his brow. “Let me feel how well my cock fills you.”

“Do I need a condom?” you ask. “Are you clean?”

He laughs like it’s an absurd question. “That’s up to you. I haven’t had sex in four years. I’m clean. If you’re not worried, I’m not worried.”

“Four years is a long time,” you mumble, suddenly feeling pressure perform well. “I have an IUD so if you’re okay with it…”

“I wanna know how it feels.”

As soon as you line yourself up with his entrance you’re sweating like you’ve never sweated in your entire life. You don’t know what you’re doing, but you’re hoping it doesn’t suck. It doesn’t take a genius to sense your nerves. He reaches out to cup your stubbly jaw.

“We don’t have to.”

“I want to. Just… tell me if I’m hurting you,” you whisper before pressing your lips to his.

You let the tip dip inside and descend into his cunt slowly, knowing the thickest part of your dick follows the tip immediately. The stretch must be delicious. You’re distracted by how tightly his walls are clamping down on you. It’s tempting to bury yourself in his warmth as quickly as possible but you show restraint. His breath hitches as he adjusts to your girth and you freeze. Has your body ever taken someone as thick as him? You can’t recall. Probably not.

“Keep going,” he coaches, grabbing at your ass to press you further inside until you’ve bottomed out.

Your head hangs down as you try not to let the sensation overwhelm you. His lips find yours, helping you climb back down from the high. You slowly move your hips back, already missing the tight warmth hugging you. It takes a few more slow thrusts until you’re pumping into him at a relatively steady pace.

“Sorry if my rhythm isn’t good. I’ve never done this,” you manage to say between heavy breaths.

“You’re doing fine. This feels amazing. What are you talking about?”

He could be lying to make you feel better but it’s working. He puts his hands by his head to indicate he wants you to hold them. You immediately twine your fingers in his and press the back of his hands into the mattress.

“Yeah? It feels so fucking good, Yoongi.”

“It does... But I know you can fuck me harder than that, Y/N.”

You can already feel the tightness you’re holding back, a pleasurable pressure building in your pelvis that warns you of the imminent orgasm you can only stave off for so long. You can’t help but slam your hips in harder and faster at his request. The sound of balls slapping against skin fills the room and he moves his hips to meet yours. His breathing grows labored but you know he’s not about to cum again. You’ve never gotten off from penetration alone and there’s no way your sloppy performance will cause that miracle to happen now.

“There you go… Fuck. That’s it.”

“I’m gonna pull out,” you warn, feeling like you’re testing your own limits with every thrust.

“Already?” he teases, digging his pretty fingernails into your back.

“It feels… too fucking good, Yoon…” You wish you had more stamina. “Gonna cum on those pretty tits.”

“Yoon?” He chuckles, now distracted by the way his tits are bouncing with each slap of your hips.

“Just wait until I’m back in that body riding your cock. See how long you last then.”

“Is that a promise?” he questions, cupping your jaw to kiss you.

“...Yeah...”

He can feel the difference in your pace, in the shivers of your body. You’re about to cum. He turns your face towards the mirror so you can see how fucked out your reflection looks. It’s intoxicating seeing Yoongi’s body so needy and desperate.

“Look at you. You’re not gonna make it to these tits.”

“Fuck…” you bite your lip and try to slow your pace but it’s too late. The tension and pressure bursts from the head of your cock like a confetti popper on New Years. With a few, strong pumps you spill your seed into his warm cunt. “Oh fuck. Fuck. Fuck! I’m cumming! I’m cummmph--”

Yoongi brings your lips back to meet his to muffle the unexpected sounds of your orgasm.

“Oh my goooood. You’re so loud,” he teases when you finally come down, but you’re too spent to refute him.

There’s another twitch in your dick and you lay there with your mouth open, trying to regain sense of your faculties. He intentionally clenches around your softening length and every muscle in your abdomen flexes.

“Too much!” you shriek, pulling out and rolling off of him in one swift motion.

You let your sweaty back hit the soft duvet, trying to recover from the sensation. He laughs, angling his legs towards the mirror. You’re about to ask what he’s doing when he spreads his legs and swipes at the cum dripping from his cunt, pushing it back inside with his fingers and releasing a soft sigh. It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen yourself do, and you’re not even doing it.

When he’s satisfied that he’s pushed it all in, he lays down next to you. The two of you stare at the ceiling in silence for at least a minute. Is it awkward or was it just that good? You can’t tell the difference right now and it’s making you anxious. He covers your hand with his and looks over at you with a warm smile.

The anxiety-driven words come out before you can stop them. “You should pee. You don’t want a UTI and neither do I.”

╭⋟────────────────────────╮

╰────────────────────────⋞╯

About an hour has passed in awkward silence as the two of you conduct research on what the fuck happened to you. You haven’t talked about what you both did in this bed, but the smell of sex still hangs in the air. As soon as you both put your clothes back on it was like a switch of modesty came back into play, and you feel too shy to point it out. You don’t know what to say, so you’ve just been clicking on every link you possibly can to fill the silence as he scrolls through articles on his phone nearby. It’s uncomfortable and you hate it.

“I think I have something, maybe,” you say, scrolling through the 90s looking website you’ve been exploring for the last few minutes.

Yoongi scoots closer to you and furrows his brow as he squints to read the sloppy banner at the top of the page. “The Unsolved?”

“I know what you’re thinking. Conspiracy theorists are insane, I know, but—”

You reach for the trackpad at the same time and your fingers brush, causing you to freeze mid-sentence. You stare at the keyboard for a second and chew on your lip, allowing your eyes to dart towards your periphery without moving your head. When he doesn’t say anything you clear your throat and scroll with the trackpad.

“But, look.” You point to the two embedded images triumphantly.

“Necklaces.” He cocks his head to the side and reads the text underneath aloud. “‘An Amulet of Discord is used by an Agent of Chaos to spread mischief and debauchery in the universe. It can be split into two halves to displace unsuspecting victims from their bodies. A glamour will protect the Amulet once the ritual is complete, making it impossible to see or touch. In order to reunite the victim with their body, the Agent responsible must be compelled to remove the glamour and mend the fragmented pieces into one.’”

“Last night I had one of those chincy friendship necklaces on and I definitely did not put it on. It looked a lot like the ones that weird guy tried to give us at your shop yesterday. I tried to get it off but it wouldn’t budge. Then it disappeared.”

“This sounds insane,” he muses, mulling over the information.

“Did it happen to you too?”

“I thought I saw one briefly, but… It was gone when I looked again. I thought I must be seeing things.”

“It’s gotta be it!”

Yoongi furrows his brows as you scroll back up to the navigation, not sure if he fully believes in this explanation. “What’s an Agent of Chaos anyway?”

“I guess they like… cause mayhem for fun? I don’t know, the description said something about pleasing a patron that they get their powers from.”

“Like a god?”

The thought makes him uneasy. If a god of chaos exists then surely there are more out there. If gods exist but they do nothing to balance out the cosmic injustices of the universe, are they really gods or more like demons? He feels like he’s about to have a full meltdown over something he can’t understand or control.

“Maybe. It doesn’t describe them at all. But…” You give him a reassuring smirk. “It does give instructions on how to trap an Agent. We just need a little more space and some chalk. We’ll draw him out, trap him, then make him undo his magic. What do we have to lose?”

His heart feels lighter when you look at him so softly. “Makes it sound simple when you say it like that. Also, slightly insane.”

╭⋟────────────────────────╮

╰────────────────────────⋞╯

The website was very lax on defining the ‘discordant energy’ needed to summon the agent, so the pair of you have been improvising. Yoongi suggested moving into the store for the space you needed, but you have a feeling he’s just anxious about it being closed for the day. It’s fine. You don’t want to constantly be thinking about the sex neither of you are acknowledging right now. Yoongi is brushing his teeth after drinking a bottle of orange juice.

You grimace at him. “You really think that’s gonna do it?”

He stops mid-brush, his mouth full of foam and garbling his words. “It’s better than doing nothing. How are you helping?”

You give the sunglasses rack a slow spin. “I drew the sigil on the floor. If we’re gonna trap him we need to be ready. Were you able to find anything else?”

He clicks on your laptop a few times before hurrying into the back room. He reappears a moment later, wiping at his mouth. “That was gross.”

You watch him concentrate on the screen, trying to forget the way it felt to kiss him everywhere he would let you. It’s hard to focus on the task at hand when there’s this feeling lingering in your uneasy stomach. Are you doomed to never speak of the things that made your heart flutter?

“ A thousand possibilities are always running through my head when it comes to you and I freeze when I think about acting on any of them. That’s what I don’t say .”

You tell yourself you imagined those words, that you wished them into existence. You turn the rack of cheap sunglasses again. Even if you knew what you were looking for, you wouldn’t find it with the way your mind is wandering. You look back at Yoongi, debating whether or not you should speak up about the uncertainty in your gut.

“Keepsake!” he says excitedly, running out from behind the counter. “It says they often leave something behind so they can return to observe their work.”

His sudden movement makes you jump and loudly smack your hand against the stand in a panicked attempt to look inconspicuous. He pauses to look at you and raises an eyebrow but you’re already laser-focused on the rack again. Desperate to hide your growing embarrassment you pluck a pair of sunglasses that is strikingly similar to the ones you’d seen the man wearing that day.

As soon as you put them on you inhale sharply. “What the fuck?”

“Hmm?” Yoongi wonders. “What is it?”

“There’s something written… on the fridge.”

“What? Where?”

You lift the glasses up to be sure you can’t see the letters scrawled on the glass without them. The message disappears. Once you place them back on the bridge of your nose they practically glow, beckoning you towards them. You push past him on your way to the drinks section. “Here. It says… Now you have… specs appeal?”

Yoongi pinches the bridge of his nose. “That’s it?”

“What do you mean, ‘that’s it’? It was a solid pun.”

The pair of you look towards the sound of the stranger’s voice. Instead of forming words you exclaim a sound of surprise. He looks confused.

“You’re going to need to speak clearly. I’m not sure I understand your language.”

“You! You did this!” you shriek, taking a step forward.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” the man says with a puff of his cheeks. He stuffs his hands in his pockets. “It’s not nice to accuse people of things. Have I done anything? Are you sure you’re not dreaming?”

A haze of golden dust spreads across the room like twinkling stars. As you blink and rub at your eyes you yawn and feel a sudden urge to lay down.

“Mmm. I am sleepy…” you admit as you sink to your knees.

Yoongi looks down at you like you’ve grown two heads. “Y/N, what are you doing?”

You laugh and lazily grapple with his leg. “Come lay down. Please? It’s made out of feathers.”

Yoongi watches you close your eyes. Suddenly your body falls limp at his feet. He crouches down to cradle your face in his hands, your name an urgent plea on his lips. “Y/N. Y/N wake up.” He pinches your cheek but you don’t respond.

“She wants this to be a dream. Don’t you?” The man takes a few casual steps forward.

“No, I don’t,” Yoongi growls. The threat sounds odd coming from this body, tone too meek to pass for intimidating. He glares at the man after reluctantly tearing his eyes from your sleeping form. It may be his body on the floor there, but you’re trapped inside it. “Wake her up.”

“She’s tired!”

Yoongi rises to his feet and shields your unconscious form as the man creeps closer. “Don’t take another step. You’re going to regret it.”

“Threatening me? Hah… You’re pretty bold, considering you’re not really in a bargaining position. Spunky! I’ll give you that. Say, I’m curious. What do you think I am anyway? I’ve got a bet going and I know I’m gonna win because I’m right, but I need proof. So if you wouldn’t mind speaking into this...”

Out of his pocket comes a microphone. He holds it out like he’s giving the most intense interview of his life as he awaits Yoongi’s response.

“You’re… Some kind of trickster.”

The man sucks his teeth and shoves the microphone back in his pocket. “That’s not exactly what I had in mind. So much for my bet… Come on. Don’t you think I look more like a god?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you work for one,” Yoongi muses, “but you sure aren’t one.”

“Wooooow….” The man sighs in disbelief. “The disrespect! At least you’re honest. I can appreciate that. I— ”

The stranger’s body seizes up as he takes another step forward. ”Ow!” His body convulses for a second before he regains his faculties. He looks down to find the sigil scrawled in chalk around his feet. Try as he might to scrape the markings off with his heel, his shoes are unable to scuff the powder. He furrows his brows and throws his hands in the air.

“Really? Are you kidding me? An integrity prison? Where did you learn this?”

Holy fucking shit. It worked, Yoongi thinks. He’s never been more relieved in his life.

“Wake her up,” he repeats calmly.

“I was gonna,” the man pouts, slumping into a cross-legged sit. “But now I really don’t want to. Would it kill you to have manners? Look at this. You’ve put me in a difficult little pickle here.” He reaches behind his back and pulls out a jar full of dill pickles. He fishes one out and takes a loud, crunchy bite. “I was just having a little fun and now I’m stuck here, doomed to this ugly little space.”

Yoongi crosses his arms, quickly losing patience. “Stop being dramatic.”

The man glowers at him and crunches on the last bit of the pickle with slow, loud chewing.

Yoongi lets out an exasperated sigh. “Please, stop being dramatic.”

With a surprised nod, the man gulps down the pickle and hops to his feet. “Well, you said please, at least. Was that really such a big... dill?”

Right as Yoongi groans, the man snaps his fingers and flexes his pointers into finger-guns. You immediately yawn and sit up.

“What happened?” you mumble.

Yoongi offers you a hand and you take it, rising to unsteady feet. He wraps a hand around your waist to support your weight. “You took a nap but you didn’t miss much. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you murmur, the haze lifting from your sleepy eyelids. You gasp as your eyes focus on the man trapped between the center aisles. “Huh! We got him!”

“Yeah, yeah. Time to celebrate. You trapped me. Good job.” The sarcasm in his tone is evident, accompanied by a roll of his eyes. Confetti falls from above your heads, showering the pair of you in glitter and shiny streamers with the flick of his wrist. “Now let me out.”

You’re blown away by the bizarre moment, springing forward and out of Yoongi’s grasp. “Magic? Then, are you really… a god?”

The man pats his pockets frantically. “Finally! Someone with a sense for my greatness! Ugh! I should have been recording. Damn! Where’s my microphone?”

“Gods don’t get trapped with chalk,” Yoongi says, folding his arms and tapping his toe impatiently. “This guy is an underling. Hey! Don’t get too close!”

Your mouth hangs agape in awe as you approach the man. Scrutiny must be new for him because he seems stunned. That wide-eyed expression is erased quickly enough when he strikes a heroic pose, planting his hands on his hips and puffing his chest out. His pecs and shoulders seem to inflate when he inhales, causing them to swell into well-defined muscles.

“Oh.” You blink a few times, entranced by the sudden transformation. You reach your hand out as if to touch the meaty bicep practically bulging from his sleeve. “Who… What... are you, really?”

“Y/N!” Yoongi’s hands enclose around your waist, pulling you back into him just as your hand is about to break the barrier.

The man’s muscles deflate with his held breath as he bursts into a fit of squeaky laughter. “Oh! I almost had you!” He wheezes a squeaky sound through his inhale that you can only guess is laughter. He clears his throat. “My name is Jin. Matchmaker…” He holds up two matches in his hands and sets them alight with a flick of his wrist.

“Lover...” He winks and the matches disappear. In their stead are two roses. He tosses them at the two of you but when you go to catch yours it disintegrates.

Yoongi catches the disappointment on your face and thrusts the flower towards you, hoping it will restore the shine to your eyes. You give him a big, cheesy smile as you dust glitter from his hair.

“Ah… And! Balancing agent…” He stands on one foot as a seesaw appears to lift him into the air. He jumps down triumphantly with a bow. “At your service.”

You clap enthusiastically until you look over at Yoongi, who looks less than amused. You then nudge him with your elbow until he gives a solitary clap.

“What’s a balancing agent?” Yoongi asks dryly.

“We restore balance to the world. Things that are too uniform need a little chaos. Things that are too chaotic need to be put back into line. In our down time we like to have fun in our own ways. Me? I like to set people up.”

“So you’re not an Agent of Chaos?” you ask, disappointed that the conspiracy theorist page that led you to this point isn’t exactly the fountain of knowledge you had hoped for. There’s so much you don’t know.

Jin looks at you, clearly confused. “I mean some people call me Cupid, but I guess you can call me that. Has a nice ring to it. My powers are more inclined for chaos.”

“Cupid?”

“What? I’m a romantic. I can see the strings of fate! Also I may have a penchant for mischief, but that’s neither here—” He points at his feet. “Nor there!” He points at the shelf beside you which causes a bag of chips to burst, sending its contents everywhere.

“Hey!” Yoongi yells. “Are you going to pay for those?”

“Yoongi…”

“What?”

You can tell he’s irritated but clearly this guy can do a lot more than pop a bag of chips from across the room. You don’t want to fall on the bad side of his magic but you don’t exactly trust Yoongi’s mouth to keep you in Jin’s good graces.

“Stop being rude,” you whisper through clenched teeth.

He scoffs and answers you in a hushed tone. “How am I rude? He’s making a mess!”

“Then we’ll ask him to unmake it.” Your irritation heightens the volume of your voice to the point where it’s barely a whisper anymore.

“He’s playing with us. I’m through asking.”

“Yoongi.”

“Y/N.”

Jin laughs. “See, this is what I mean. Fate is practically screaming for me to help you. Chaos is just an added bonus for this boring town.”

You both look at him and ask in unison, “What?”

He points to the both of you. “Look.”

As you turn back to face Yoongi you’re shocked to see a pale blue orb glowing above his head. “Huh? What’s that?” You reach out to touch it but your hand passes through it without any change.

“You have one too,” he mumbles, squinting at the way a thin line seems to stem from it. Then he sees another. And another. It looks like a shiny, glittering web that splinters into a thousand different directions. His brows furrow as he inspects the tiny threads. “Do you see them?”

Your gaze follows his pointer and suddenly you can see the branching strands too, not just yours, but his as well. It’s beautiful. It’s overwhelming. It’s terrifying. Seeing the trepidation written on your face he silently beckons your attention to his finger, which is pointing to a thread that is golden instead of a pale blue hue. It’s the only one of its kind in the intricate glittering lattice between the two of you. You follow his pointer as it traces the path that stems from your orb until it gets closer to his and then you take over, finishing the path with your finger to the point where his orb engulfs the line.

“What is it?” you wonder aloud.

“A string of fate,” Jin answers with a wistful sigh. “It’s always exciting to see one, isn’t it? It means you’re soulmates.”

“Hah. Bullshit,” Yoongi responds, waving the air with his hands as if to disrupt the strings. They remain intact. “You just like causing mischief.”

Jin puffs his cheeks and scowls. “I can lie about a lot of things, but the strings aren’t one of them,” he huffs. “Why would I need to do that? What’s more unpredictable than true love slapping you in the face?”

He makes a motion with his fingers and sweeps them towards Yoongi.The compulsion rises and you’re powerless to stop it. Your hand moves of its own accord and lightly slaps Yoongi across the face. He looks betrayed as he rubs his cheek.

“I’m sorry! It wasn’t me!”

The tingle in your arm causes it to move back towards him in a gentle swoop. Your wrist is limp as it smacks into his chin and rubs back and forth as if to comfort him. Jin bursts into a fit of laughter as he breaks the compulsion.

Yoongi lets out an exasperated sigh, stomping up towards the circle around the stranger. “Just change us back and you can go on causing problems elsewhere.”

“I can’t,” Jin answers simply, crossing his arms. “The charm will break only under specific conditions.”

“And those are?”

Jin shrugs with his bottom lip protruding as he frowns. “It’s different for everyone.”

“Of course it is.” Yoongi sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, pacing back towards you.

“There are some things you can try. Staples of the trade.” Jin notes some dirt beneath his fingernails and begins cleaning them. “Number one. Have you tried talking about your feelings?”

Yoongi’s gaze settles on yours and it’s like you can feel your heart stop. Say something. You open your mouth to speak but the words won’t come so you snap your jaw shut and stare at the glitter on the floor.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Yoongi says as he folds his arms across his chest, trying to not get distracted by the breasts he inadvertently touches. He decides to drop his hands to his hips instead.

Jin rolls his eyes. “Okaaaay... Number two is filling the chaos meter. Go crazy. Do the unexpected.”

“I don’t know what we’d do,” Yoongi admits, pacing around the circle.

“What if we kissed?” The voice is soft and sweet.

He turns to face you, a combination platter of surprise and confusion. “But we did.”

“Reeeeally?”

Jin’s laughter makes him feel like a fool. He was convinced you said it, despite knowing your voice is not your own right now. How stupid could he be, walking right into that? He squeezes his eyes shut a moment and then focuses his attention on the captive.

While Yoongi is distracted you’re working a pack of mentos out of their packaging. You kneel down and twist the cap off one of the liters of cola placed on the endcap you. The hiss of the carbonation makes Yoongi shift attention.

Your name on his lips is half a warning, half a question loaded with uncertainty. You open another bottle beside it before he can get close enough and drop mentos into each. The liquid erupts into two fizzy fountains that reach the ceiling and spill back down to the floor. Yoongi takes off his hat and grips his hair like he wants to tear it out.

“What are you doing?”

“Filling the meter?” you answer meekly with a shug, stepping back from the puddle on the floor.

Jin roars with laughter. “Oh man. There is no meter, but that was delightful.”

Yoongi grumbles and goes back to the counter, grabbing the laptop and sinking down behind it to hide from the pandemonium of this situation.

“You’re the worst,” you mutter as you pass Jin. You quickly sit next to Yoongi on the floor.

“It was a joke!” Jin calls. “Come on, don’t leave me alone here.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize as his fingers rapidly tap the keys. “I’m trying to help.”

“I know.”

“What are you looking for?” you whisper.

Yoongi listens for a minute to the grumbling of the man trapped in the circle nearby. “How to trick a trickster. I have a feeling we need him to undo it but he won’t come out and say it.”

You sigh and press your chin against his shoulder. “I’m tired.”

He looks over and tips his head down to nuzzle his cheek against you. “I know.”

“Huh?” Your vision diverts to a shiny blue can beside him. “Are you serious?”

“Hmm? Oh yeah.” He picks it up and quickly downs the last sip, the Hot6 Logo shining back at you in mockery. “I found it earlier and needed a pick-me-up.”

“Did you find more?”

“Nope. Just the one.”

“But…” you pout. “I wanted it.”

He holds the empty can out to you. “It’s grown on me.”

“I’m about to die without the sweet taste,” you whine, shaking the can to make sure there’s nothing left.

“You’re so obnoxious.”

He rolls his eyes and cups your jaw, leaning in to press his lips against yours. You don’t protest when he dips his tongue past your lips to rub against yours. You can taste remnants of the drink on his tongue. If Hot6 wasn’t your favorite drink before this, it is now.

“Better?”

“Maybe. Still not sweet enough.” You giggle.

He takes the opportunity to kiss you again, crushing your mouth against his in a deeper kiss. You’re practically melting into him as his tongue glides against yours, moving in a rhythm that you now crave. It’s so easy to forget everything else, where you are, what’s happened to you. He moves to straddle your lap, grinding down intentionally as he grips the back of your neck. He knows you’re half-hard already and fuck if he doesn’t just want to have you again. You’re the only thing that feels real right now.

He pulls down the zipper of the hoodie you’ve given him to allow access to his neck. It’s not until he allows you to latch onto the sensitive flesh there, with his hands buried in your hair, that he notices the security mirror. You’re so hot. He wants to be in you so badly but he’ll settle for you being in him right now.

╭⋟────────────────────────╮

╰────────────────────────⋞╯

Suddenly he notices the other person in the mirror. Jin is sitting cross-legged on the floor in his invisible prison, resting his chin on a hand as he stares back through the reflection with eyebrows raised. Yoongi quickly clears his throat and climbs off of you. You blink in confusion at the disruption until he points at the mirror and then you cast your gaze at the floor.

“We should take care of this.” He runs his fingers through his hair to compose himself before placing the cap back on his head and focusing his attention back on the computer.

“Wow, you almost went there with me watching. That would have done it for sure,” Jin says, breaking into a grin.

“Come on!” you shriek, popping up from behind the counter. “Please, just change us back.”

“I told you. I can’t,” he repeats firmly. “I actually don’t lie as often as you seem to think I do. Maybe you should try having sex. They say the soul leaves your body for an instant when you reach the finish line, you know. It can’t hurt. Ohhhh wait a minute...”

He jumps to his feet after watching the guilt flash across your face. Your eyes seem to dart around him, but never land close enough to his. Blood rushes through your ears, drowning out all the sounds that aren’t your heartbeat.

He smiles wickedly. “Oh my god, you already did. I mean, I get it. Who wouldn’t be curious? It’s only human to wonder. Oh, to be human… Seriously, have you tried talking about your feelings?”

You turn towards Yoongi and crouch back on the floor, disappearing from Jin’s view. He steps on his tiptoes to try and see around the counter before settling back on the security mirror. You can’t help but focus on his nosiness.

“Yoongi. I... Look. Can we go in the back? I need to talk to you. Privately.”

Jin clicks his tongue and sighs as the pair of you cross the store and slip into the door that reads ‘EMPLOYEES ONLY.’ You breathe a sigh of relief when Yoongi locks the heavy door behind you. He bites at his nails--your nails as he waits for you to say whatever you need to. You take his hands into yours.

“Things are weird right now and not just because of this,” you hold up his hands in yours. “Are you regretting everything now?”

He smirks and gives you a small laugh. He slinks away to rub the back of his neck. “I don’t regret anything. I mean what I said. I care about you. I just… I get embarrassed, I guess.”

He’s embarrassed? You didn’t think he was capable with how blunt he normally is. “Sorry,” you mumble. “I’m insecure. Sexy, right?”

Time seems to slow as he draws near. There’s a lighthearted laugh on his lips before they meet yours. It feels like the first time all over again. Butterflies erupt in your stomach and you throw your arms around his neck, desperate to get closer even though you’re already pressed up against each other. You lean into him as you gasp in his hot breaths between kisses. To counteract the weight you’ve pressed against him, he pushes you backwards. Your arms fly back to catch yourself as you stumble but you knock into a freestanding shelving unit. Cans of soup clatter to the floor and roll off in various directions as Yoongi steadies the rack to keep it from falling.

He sighs, dropping his forehead to your shoulder in defeat. “We should focus.”

You whimper and will yourself to move the pair of you away from the wire rack. You run your fingers through your hair and attempt to compose yourself. Everything feels like a dream. It’s hard to think with him consuming the majority of your thoughts. You clear your throat, hoping your mind will also clear with the action.

“Hey,” he says, fingers on the latch. He pauses to lock eyes with you. “It might have seemed like the heat of the moment, but I really mean what I said. So tell me you’ll stick around after this is done?”

You run up and lace your fingers in his free hand before giving it a firm squeeze. “Promise.”

As he opens the door Jin jumps like you’ve startled him with your presence. “Whoa, I thought maybe you’d murdered one another. I heard a loud bang.” His gaze drops to your entwined hands. “What? Did you finally embrace destiny?”

“Destiny. No destiny. It doesn’t matter,” Yoongi says calmly as he squeezes your hand. “This could all be a dream. But we’re here now. We care about each other in this moment. That’s real. That matters.”

Jin does a slow clap while grinning from ear-to-ear. “Wow! It usually takes people a few days, maybe a week!” He looks at his wrist as though he’s wearing an invisible watch. “It’s been, what, a day? You did good.”

“Does that mean you’re going to help us now?” You perk up immediately.

“I mean I think you’ve helped yourselves. You look happy. You’re comfortable, right? Can’t you just let me go and keep existing like this?”

When he’s met with silence he sighs. “Ahh, well there is one more thing you can do, I guess. Have you tried checking your pockets?”

His suggestion is met with eyerolls from the both of you. While nonsensical, the unexpected has become a staple of your current state of existence and you feel you owe it to yourself to at least entertain the possibility. Your fingers slip into your pocket and explore the ridges of the hard object nestled against the fabric. Excitement courses through you as you pull your half of the locket from the confines of your sweatpants. Dumbfounded, Yoongi sticks a finger into his tight jeans and fishes the other half of the necklace out of his pocket.

“Hah, I can’t believe you didn’t even look,” Jin says with a laugh. “Now put them on, place the pieces together and say ‘Me Hoy Nimoy.’”

You exchange a skeptical look with Yoongi but you both comply and blurt the phrase soon after linking the pieces of the necklace together. You hold your breath, waiting for something spectacular to happen but disappointment soon floods your lungs. Just as you’re about to speak up, Jin clicks his tongue.

“Ah, close your eyes. It won’t work if you’re watching.”

Yoongi grumbles. “You’re fucking with us.”

“Hey, some magic is shy. Follow the rules. Do you think I’m just making this all up?” he pouts.

Your answer comes in unison with Yoongi’s: “Yes.”

Jin looks hurt as he clutches a hand over his heart and staggers backwards. “Woooooow. Well, just do one more thing then. ”

A devilish grin soon replaces the expression and his squeaky laughter fills up the store. He points at the pair of you with both fingers and wags his fingers in circles. You feel compelled to turn in place. Yoongi matches the uneasiness in your gut with the panic in his eyes. You both spin in circles away from one another. Once. Twice. Three times. Just as you’re about to complain about the nausea churning fresh waves in your belly, Jin waves his hands inwards.

You’re lifted into the air. The toes of your sneakers leave behind squeaky skidmarks of rubber on the tile as the pair of you are dragged forward. Jin cocks his head to one side and examines you with an expression of stone. For a split second you’re terrified but then he breaks into a grin and snaps his fingers. His thumbs and index fingers form the shape of a heart as he holds them out and you drop to the floor.

Yoongi reaches out for your shoulder. There’s a soft tremble to his fingers as he pulls you close to him. When you look upon his visage you can already see his jaw transforming, a thin stubble growing in along its perimeter. Every time you close your eyes to blink more of his face has morphed back into his own. You look down at your own fingers and watch as the nails narrow and elongate. A glossy pink hue returns to them but the polish looks slightly less finished with the way Yoongi has gnawed on the edges all day.

Suddenly Yoongi is frantically scrambling to his feet, kicking off his shoes and working the zipper down on his jeans. Everything is quickly growing far too tight. The hoodie you’d given him just barely covers his crotch as he stands up straight. He looks over at you with a relieved sigh and cups your jaw.

“You good?” he asks, rubbing the pad of his thumb across your chin. It takes all of your self-control to keep from licking it as it grazes your lip.

You nod, eyes falling to the necklace dangling over his sweatshirt. As soon as you reach out to yank it off, the trinket disappears in a puff of purple smoke with a clap of Jin’s hands. He holds them in place like a silent prayer just below his chin, a strained smile staining his face just above his fingers.

“So, here’s the thing. I’m gonna need you to hold up your end of the deal.”

“Fix my store first. Clean up this mess you’ve caused,” Yoongi says while taking a step in front of you.

Jin’s bottom lip protrudes into a pout as he eyes the puddle of cola on the floor. “I didn’t do that,” he complains under his breath.

It’s incredible how close he came to freedom, incredible and frustrating. His magic may not be able to touch or alter the circle, but you almost freed him with your ignorance. If the liquid had run close enough to seep into the chalk, he would be somewhere far more sunny and beachy right now. He’s earned a vacation for this milestone of success.

“Fiiiine,” he concedes.

With a snap of his fingers the store is spotless once more. While Yoongi inspects the area of the tile floor previously coated in cola and glitter, you glide your foot over the circle of chalk and break the seal that binds Jin to his current location.

“Finally…” he sighs, side-stepping out from the invisible barrier. “You’re welcome, by the way. Invite me to the wedding, okay? Don’t forget the little people who helped you on the way. As for me... I’ve got a date with the pearly beaches of Accord.”

He swirls his wrist in the air and the pair of ugly red mirrored sunglasses appear on his nose just in time for him to adjust them. He lowers the specs to give you a wink before snapping his fingers. Before you can even call out for him to wait, he’s gone in a puff of purple smoke that quickly dissipates. You’re left in stunned silence to contemplate your existence.

What are you supposed to make of everything?

As you stand there on the cusp of a mental breakdown, soft, velvety petals brush against your cheek to steal your attention. The scent of the flower overtakes your senses as Yoongi uses it to tickle your nose. You find him smiling back at you, almost like he’s too shy to speak, but then he does.

“Weird day huh? Can I have my pants back?”

You hum thoughtfully, making sure the shutters of the shop are still shielding you both from the outside world. “Would you mind if I wanted to get back in them later?”

He snorts, holding back a laugh. “Been waiting to use that all day?”

“No, I just thought of it right now. Aren’t I impressive?” you say, wiggling your eyebrows at him. You shimmy out of the sweatpants and leave them pooled on the floor, doing your best to walk past him with grace and seduction.

“So impressive.”

He offers an amused laugh when you bend over to pick up the garments he was so quick to discard when his transformation reverted. You spare a glance behind you to see if he’s looking at the way you so blatantly flaunt your ass. He’s in the middle of dragging his bottom lip through his teeth when your eyes steal his attention.

“Something wrong?” A wicked grin belies your innocent tone.

He exhales a long breath and shakes his head, turning his attention to pulling his pants up. “Impressive isn’t the word. You’re obnoxious.”

“Isn’t that your way of saying you wanna make out?”

He’s quiet as he takes off the remainder of your clothes to reveal a muscular chest riddled with goosebumps. It’s hard to hide how your grin spreads wider as he approaches with them in hand. You’ve had dreams like this: he’s shirtless, asking you to take off your clothes so he can fuck you in his store. Right here with your tits against the cold glass of the fridge. It would be a dirty secret only the two of you would know and you’d think about it every time you’d come in for your energy drink.

You slowly lift the hoodie from your own body, trying to appear as alluring as possible. You make sure to arch your back as your breasts briefly catch in the fabric and then drop against your ribs, completely exposed to the chilly air. Much to your dismay he’s quick to spin away from you and mutters a “thanks” instead of naughtier offers.

He’s aware you might mistake it for rejection, but he’s hoping you don’t see the way his fingers tremble. It’s incredible how scared he feels being back in his own skin. The intimacy of your connection left a void behind that’s quickly filling with disquiet. He feels incomplete without a piece of you with him, lost in the vast emptiness of himself. How can he feel such need for you? His chest aches with the possibility that he won’t ever feel whole again. The bravery that possessed him while piloting your body has waned. Now that normalcy is somewhat restored, he has the chance to start processing the events of the day. A part of him begins to embrace the panic he’d previously pushed down and his confession replays in his mind as though he’s just spoken it.

It was a bold move, especially given the situation. It could have ended horribly. He puffs out his cheeks and holds his breath, trying to remind himself that it didn’t. It’s okay to let go of the anxiety over it, but he still feels so uncertain. Even turned away from you and fully clothed, he’s never felt more exposed and vulnerable. He tries to hide the burning of his ears by running his fingers through his hair and shielding them with his arms. He has to bring himself back or else you’ll be talking him down from a panic attack and he doesn’t want you to see him like that.

Stupid. Stop throwing yourself at him. You struggle to put on the tight clothing as quickly as possible. Tears threaten to fall as you awkwardly wiggle your jeans back and forth up your thighs and over the swell of your ass. You make sure to swipe at the corners of your eyes before clearing your throat to signify you’re fully changed. He spins to face you but everything he means to say gets lost on the way to his mouth. He freezes, overwhelmed by how beautiful you are even in this shitty lighting, and how thankful he is to be able to see you through his own eyes.

His heart pounds at the confines of his chest like it needs to burst from within. There’s a small burst of adrenaline that plumes from the explosion of butterflies in his stomach. It fills him with the courage he needs to close the distance between you with a kiss, the kind of kiss he’s been dreaming of giving you for months. Right here in this store.

He loves how eager you are to reciprocate when he tangles his fingers in your hair. He holds you there like you’re about to melt away in a puff of smoke. Your lips are so soft, so sweet, so warm pressing against his. His tongue rolls over yours, desperate to keep tasting and feeling more. You grasp behind his neck and dig your fingernails into his shoulder as he deepens the kiss. When you roll your hips towards him as a subtle test for determining his hardness, you can feel him smile against your lips.

“Not in the store.” He gives you one more chaste kiss and pulls back just enough to allow you both to breathe. He adjusts one of the boxes on the nearby shelves. “You already drive me crazy. If we do it here I’m going to be thinking about it every time I’m stocking shelves.”

“Yoongi…” you whine. “Please tell me you’re keeping it closed for the day.”

He sighs as he plucks his phone from the counter to check the time. “Might as well.”

“Can I walk you home?” You chew on your lip as you wait for his response. What you wouldn’t give to spend the night with him.

Unable to hide the smirk playing at the corners of his mouth, he nods his head towards the exit. “Why would we waste our time?”

Your heart sinks into your butt, thinking this must be it. He changed his mind after all. He hates you. There’s no doubt about it now. All you can manage is a squeaky, “Hmm?”

He rests his palm on the handle of the door and he presses his lips into a thin line, looking wide eyed. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him look so adorably hopeful and embarrassed at the same time. “You live closer.”

╭⋟────────────────────────╮

╰────────────────────────⋞╯

The comforter at your back is soft and cool to the touch as you scramble to settle yourself against the pillows. Yoongi wastes no time wiggling off his sweatpants and climbing over you. The sound of your panting mingles with his as he hovers above you with his lips parted, trying to catch his breath. If the hurried ascent up the stairs wasn’t enough to have him gasping for air, the makeout session just inside your front door definitely has him devoid of oxygen. This still feels like a dream, but it’s one he doesn’t ever want to wake up from.

"How do you want it?" he whispers. He glides a finger up your thigh and lightly traces circles around your labia.

Your mind travels back to your earlier experience of coming undone and suddenly your stomach is doing flips.

"Just like this," you answer. "I want to feel you just like this. Do you remember where to touch?"

He nods, skimming his parted lips over yours while he places his finger over the hood of your clit. "Like this, right?"

"More pressure," you plead, working your hips in circles to coach his movements.

He does as you instruct and clamps his mouth over yours in a futile attempt to find relief for the aching need to be inside of you. He grinds himself against your side, his cock rubbing against your soft, heated skin as he tries to remember the exact motions needed to elicit enough pleasure to make you cum. He doesn't have to wait long until frenzied, weak moans are vibrating against his mouth so he turns his attention to your neck. He wants to hear how fucked out you are. He wants to hear how badly you want to cum. He wants to feel you pulse around his fingers.

As he plunges a thick finger deep into your cunt, a pathetic, desperate sound escapes you. "Oh, fuck."

"Feel good?" he mumbles into the hollow space between your neck and shoulder.

"Please. Please. Please. Please," you whimper incoherently, bucking your hips to meet each thrust of his finger. You can feel his cock rutting against your side and all you can do is imagine that he's pumping it into you instead of his fingers. "Oh fuck, Yoongi."

His lips twitch into a smile as he feels you tighten around his finger. He kisses your neck and sinks a second finger carefully inside you. You allow your head to fall against the pillow and bite your lip to try to contain the drawn out needy groan already helplessly spilling out of you. So close. Your back arches off the mattress and he wishes he wasn't so concentrated on the motions of his hands right now because he would absolutely love to be tonguing your perfect tits.

He pants against your skin and looks at them longingly. Maybe he can manage it? He's determined to use what he's learned about your body to help you cum, but not yet. You can't help but whine at the loss as he repositions himself, which breaks the sightline you had on your orgasm.

"Yoooongi... I was close..." You whimper when he abandons your cunt entirely to press your tits together. His mouth is hot as it clamps down on your nipple, giving the peak a hard suck before dragging it through his teeth.

"I know. Wanna make you cum with my tongue," he murmurs into the supple flesh.

He swipes his fingers along your cunt and swirls the wetness over your clit before bringing it to his mouth. You can already see how they glisten in the low light of your bedroom. The low moan that rumbles its way from his throat has you rocking your hips up against his pelvis as he settles between your legs. Your silent grinding isn't enough of a confirmation. He wants to hear you say it.

"Can I go down on you?" He blurts the shameless question while alternating between kissing both of your breasts and only pauses to meet your eyes.

You want to feel him everywhere but mostly you want his mouth on yours while he’s balls deep inside you. You don’t even care if you cum because being with him like this feels good. Being with him fills your heart with giddy hope and your stomach with butterflies. Being with him is enough. You want to tell him that but instead you nod and whimper out a pathetic “please.”

He wastes no time dipping his head down between your thighs to press the flat of his tongue against your clit. A low growl escapes with his exhale before he puckers his lips to kiss the soft skin and breathe in the heavy scent of your arousal. You’d be embarrassed if his tongue didn’t feel so magical. It glides against you so effortlessly, bringing pleasure with every quick flick against you.

Your hands dive into his hair and you start rolling your hips to grind his face harder against you. He doesn't seem to mind though. In fact he seems to embrace the motion, wrapping his arms around your thighs and pulling you in as closely as possible. If you weren't so preoccupied with the orgasm building just below the surface of the place where his tongue keeps hitting then you might worry that he's suffocating himself. Right now all you can focus on is the pleasure threatening to break you open and leave you spilling a million curses into the air around you.

"Yoongi. Fuck. I'm close," you warn, as if the frantic way you've twirled his hair around each of your fingers isn't enough to tip him off. Do you really think he can't feel the shaking of your thighs in this moment?

He hums a sound like he doesn't hear you, but he doesn't let up at all. He keeps his pace steady for you as you approach your end once again. Your nails scratch against his scalp but he doesn't mind. He actually really likes the way you're losing your mind over the simple things he's doing with his tongue right now. He can't even begin to imagine the pretty sounds that might spew from your lips with practiced effort but he knows he can't wait to hear them.

Suddenly your hand flies up to pound the wall behind you and you announce the wave of pleasure coursing through your clit through the use of a loud string of expletives. He can feel the way your flesh pulses beneath his tongue and he revels in it. You ride his face so well. You can ride it for as long as you want as often as you want. He wants to tell you that but he also wants you to ride out your high for as long as it lasts, so he lets you buck your hips and raise your cunt off the bed. He lets you thrash around through the sensitivity until you're finally pushing his face off with both hands.

"Good? Do you need more?" he verifies, rising from between your legs to deliver a messy, wet kiss to your lips. He smirks through it, knowing he really doesn't need to ask at all to know the answer.

"Cheeky fuck," you murmur, not bothering to even attempt to hide your matching grin against him. "I need it."

"What do you need?" His fingers trail a soft line down your side, reminding you that his teasing nature is simply a front for his caring heart.

"I need you inside me." Your breathing is spotty as you pepper kisses along his jaw. "Like this. I want you to feel me the way I felt you."

It doesn't take long until you're tasting yourself on his lips again. He shifts slightly and you know he's lining himself up with your entrance when you feel the swollen tip of his fat cock nudging at your hole. He's slow to thrust into you. In fact he stills, only giving you shallow, teasing thrusts. He favors letting you wiggle down just a little bit to coax him in. He smiles against your lips and pushes in further, giving you that stretch you were hoping for.

When you suck in a sharp breath he pulls out, but as soon as you whine in protest, he's already carefully moving to slide it back in. The slow stretch has your jaw dropping open and he takes the opportunity to bite on your lower lip. You take the bait and feed him hungry kisses until he’s completely buried inside of your tight cunt. He takes a moment to growl a low sound that has you clenching around him.

“So tight,” he whispers, pausing to curl an arm beneath your head.

He presses the back of your hand against the mattress as he twines his fingers with yours. He drives himself deeper into you with each slow thrust and it feels like he still can’t get close enough. So you raise your other arm above you and angle it until you’re linking your fingers with the ones beneath your head. You kiss his cheek and savor the intimate moment.

When he lazily sinks into your cunt again you crack a smile. “Can't you fuck me harder than that?"

"Mmm." He lifts his head and seems to accept your challenge. His hips pull out slowly and suddenly slam back into you. This sets a new fervent pace that has you squeezing both of his hands. "What do you think? Is this better?"

You do little to actually answer his question and instead offer a slew of swears and moans each time his balls slap against your ass. "Shit. Fuck, fuck fuck. Yoongi..."

"What kind of answer is that?" he asks innocently.

"God, your cock..."

"Mhm," he prods.

"Feels so good, Yoon."

He chuckles. "Yoon... Cute."

"I'll show you cute," you huff.

"Oh?"

You release his hands in favor of pressing your palms against his chest. He pulls out and before you can miss the way he fills you, you're flipping him down on the mattress. You swing a leg over his pelvis and straddle him. It takes you a moment to properly position yourself. You give his length a few pumps in your hand before lining it up with your entrance.

"Careful," he warns, planting his hands on your thighs. "Don't wear yourself out."

You sink down quicker than you probably should. You're eager to make him cum faster than he did for you. The wetness in your core seeps down in translucent trails down your inner thighs. Your own brand of lubricant seems to be enough to keep the stretch pleasurable. Yoongi bites his lip as he gazes down at the way you're bouncing on his cock. You know how good it feels for him, especially with how hard your pussy is squeezing him.

"Don't worry about me."

The sensory overload building in your gut coated with the memory of the unique experience. It mixes with the high threatening to burn its way from your core. You take a deep breath and exhale loudly before you continue. You revel in a slow descent, memorizing every kind of way the stroke makes you feel. Then you begin to quickly draw him in and out of your cunt. The obscene sounds of wet, rapid slapping fill the room.

After a few minutes you've finally got a good rhythm down. Despite the cramp throbbing down your obliques, he's hitting that sweet spot inside you at just the right angle. If you didn't know any better you'd think you're about to cum again. You steady yourself on his chest and trail your hand to his stomach to maintain your balance. Trying to keep the unrealistic pace you'd previously set for yourself is proving difficult, but you swear you're feeling like maybe you're about to crest into the biggest climax of your life. Then again, it could certainly be the biggest letdown now that you're aware of it. Your orgasms have left you for less.

Yoongi knots his eyebrows together in concentration and he reaches down to rub circles against your clit. His fingers are clumsy and new to this angle but they're feather light. He can see in your face that you're chasing some great new high and he just wants to help you achieve it without overdoing it. He knows how shy your cunt is about giving you orgasms so he really wants to do it right. Is this right? He figures you'll tell him if it isn't.

You moan weakly in response. Suddenly, you know it's coming. You can feel it building every time his hips slap up to meet yours. "Oh my fuck."

His abdominal muscles flex beneath your palm and he forces his breaths through his nose as he struggles to keep himself composed. Your cunt is squeezing him so tightly that he knows he's on the brink of his own release but he's determined to help you feel as good as you make him feel.

"That's it. Cum for me again." He tries to coax it with those strong pleas, but his voice is broken with an inhale sharp enough to cut his words.

Both of your thighs are coated in slick sweat. You don't think you've ever felt so fucking wet in your life. He glistens just as much in the dim light so you know between the two of you there's a puddle of sweat soaking your sheets. It's easy to forget how gross or embarrassing it is when the tip of his cock rubs against your g-spot so well. Right now the only thing that matters is getting relief for this pressure building behind your clit.

Despite the shakiness of his fingers, he's able to coax it out of you. Your trembling thighs feel like an earthquake that's finally reached its peak tremor and you find yourself crying out and bouncing to the rhythm of your spasming cunt. You chant your praises and curses in the same breath. His name is a drawn out breathy expression of gratitude and bliss. As soon as you slump forward to kiss him he takes your hands in his own and frantically pumps himself up into you. He can still feel the involuntary flex of your cunt even after you've clearly expended every ounce of your energy reaching and literally riding out your second orgasm.

"Can I cum inside?" he asks between frantic breaths.

"Well, you're not gonna make it to these tits," you tease with a smirk. You may be spent but you'll always have the energy to give him shit. "Do it."

"So fuckin hot," he mumbles against your lips.

The muffled grunts expelled against your mouth and the slow, deliberate snap of his hips leave you in a state of surreal euphoria. He squeezes your hands in his along with his release to let you know this is real. You're here with him. When he comes down from his high he kisses you gently one more time and pulls back to look at you. You take the break in physical connection to roll off of him and stretch out your aching calves and let the air from the fan cool your skin. The tingling in your legs tells you not to get up right now, as much as the fear of a UTI screams at you to do the contrary. Instead you turn your head towards Yoongi and he smiles at you. Sleep threatens to take you when he begins to stroke your hair.

"If you'd have told me last week I'd feel this close to someone, I'd have laughed at you," he starts in a quiet voice, "but I feel really close to you. I'm glad this insanity happened to us."

"Me too." You can't help but smile back. "I don't want to go to sleep because I'm afraid you'll be gone when I wake up. What if this is a dream?"

"Then I'll find you when I wake up. You'd better find me too."

"What if we forget?"

He grabs your hand and runs his thumb over your knuckles. "I won't forget."

"Promise?"

"Mhm." He closes his eyes, clearly every bit as exhausted as you are. He's quiet for a minute and you think maybe he's already fallen asleep until he peeks out from under his eyelids. "... I think you need glasses."

"What?"

"I was just thinking. I felt like I was squinting all the time when I was you. Maybe that's why it took you so long to see how I felt." He shows off a big, toothy grin.

"Wow that guy really rubbed off on you, huh?"

You smack him in the face with a pillow when you get up.

╭⋟────────────────────────╮

╰────────────────────────⋞╯

The muffin and can of Hot6 sit on the counter, guarded by Yoongi's forearm.

"Wow, you already have my stuff ready? Is this the kind of perk I get for dating the owner?" you wonder.

He rolls his eyes. "Not yours until you pay for it."

"You're so sweet, not eating my muffin this time."

He drags his lip through his teeth and tries to hold back a devilish smirk. "I've found better things to eat, don't you think?"

Your heart thumps against your chest and you do your best to remind yourself that offering to suck his dick behind the counter is not what you should be doing in this situation. But you want it so bad. He watches your internal struggle with raised eyebrows and a smug smile. He slides the energy drink towards you.

"Here. This is on me today. You look a little thirsty."

Your shoulders raise and then deflate with your sigh. "Do you even want me to come back later?"

"What? It's free for you. You should be happy."

"And the muffin? What do I owe for that?"

He mimics your dramatic sigh and places it before you. "It's crazy. Your boyfriend offered to pay for that too."

"He's so generous." You shake your head but it can't keep the grin from your face. "Lots of free stuff today."

"It's a... special for today only. So don't get used to it or anything. But there is one more thing we're having a sale on, if you're interested."

"Hmm?"

"Free of charge, for you only." He taps his lips with both pointers, looking impossibly cute. His charm is devastating, really.

He cracks a smile and you feel yours grow impossibly wider. You lean over the counter and give him a sweet kiss.

"How long does this offer last?"

"As long as you want."

"Forever."

"Forever, it is." He gives you one more quick peck. "I've gotta mop the floor and you're gonna be late for work."

"Ugh. Wanna trade?"

He purses his lips and gives your hand a little squeeze. "Not a chance."

[imkittyjustkitty]

Kitty's Daily Pride — Day 8

prompt ; (gender) envy

pairings ; Ethan Green x Bestfriend!Reader

summary ; It's been more than a day since you've last heard from your best friend Ethan, or from anyone for that matter. Something's not right.

+ reader is gender neutral & no mentions of y/n

warnings ; none i think, reader's freaking out, its just kinda spooky but no violence or anything like that, although the death of many characters is implied/speculated

genre ; angst

word count ; 902

A/N ; are people noticing how obscurely my fics end up relating to the original prompt bc i am nsndfsjk, its okay though because im proud of this ! :D also im trying to include more queer aspects to the stories bc this is for pride after all, sometimes tho i just get an idea i like and run w it lmao !!

also i plan on writing a part 2/bonus little thing either today or tomorrow which i'll link here once i post it !!

do not steal, repost, or redistribute my work in any way.

The last time you’d heard from Ethan was one day, 2 hours, and 38 minutes ago. The longest you and Ethan had been apart or not messaged each other up until now was like 8 hours, at the very most a day. To say that you were worried would be an understatement.

It was just past 7 at night. The amount of times you'd tried to call Ethan's phone was astronomical, but every time you were met with an automated message, not even his voicemail message that you'd grown used to, which somehow made you even more worried.

It was 8:06 now. Not being able to reach Ethan (although you did still try every half an hour or so, just in case), you tried calling anyone else you could think of. The obvious choice was to call his girlfriend Lex, maybe the two of them finally got on their way to California and Ethan had just forgotten his phone, not a very likely occurrence but you were clinging to the theory like it was your lifeline. So you called her, quite a few times, maybe too many, but she never answered. If you weren't worried before, now you definitely were.

But it'll be okay, you hadn't even called his parents yet, so he was probably just with them. Maybe he was grounded and that's why he wasn't answering, right?

It was 8:41 now, and you called his parents, his dad first. You were gripping the phone so hard that your hands started to shake, the ringing of the phone echoing through your head as you quietly pleaded for Ethan's dad to pick up.

No answer. At this point the only thing keeping you sane, the only reason you hadn't completely lost it, was unlikely reasoning. You'd pulled out a scrap piece of paper with a list of names, and why they wouldn't have picked up, it gave you a feeling that was something like hope. So far your list read: Ethan - grounded, Lex - with hannah or maybe phone bill expired (?), Ethan's dad - at work ??

They were reasonable explanations, all things that on any other day you wouldn't so much as bat an eye at. All things that you wouldn't question were there not a pit of suspicion swirling through your stomach and anxiety aching your every bone. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

But if something was wrong, you had zero fucking clue on how to handle it. So what did you do? You continued to call people in the hope of reaching Ethan. This provided the only string that kept you tied to reality, holding onto the hope that the next person you called would explain everything and all would be back to normal.

9:01. You called Ethan's mother, a woman who you'd always relied on to pick up calls straight away. No answer.

9:13. You called Frank fucking Pricely, a person you'd met maybe twice, once when applying for a job at Toy Zone, and for the second time (which really didn't count), but who you'd seen briefly when picking Lex up from her job. And of course the asshole didn't answer your call.

You were running out of what little hope you had left, when you remembered perhaps the one other person Lex (and by extension Ethan) associated with. Your old shop teacher, Mr Houston.

9:34. You rang his number, listening to the dial, waiting for the inevitable 'the person you are trying to reach is currently unavailable' message. Once, twice, your phone rang, until...

It stopped ringing, and you were staring right at a screen where the call timer started counting.

You froze. You didn't want to of course, your whole being was begging you to just scream out all your questions, but your throat was blocked and your hands shook so much that your phone dropped right out of your hands. falling, falling until it hit the ground.

You heard a crack but couldn't bring yourself to look down.

"Hey there."

Your eyes widened.

A laugh crackled through your now half-broken phone speaker, "Don't be afraid."

Okay fuck that now you were definitely afraid.

"Who," your voice wavered, revealing just how terrified you were, whoever this was, they sounded eerily familiar, "Who are you."

"Mmmm good question..."

A knock on your bedroom door. Your body flooded with terror.

The door flew open, crashing into the wall, right of it's hinges, revealing a shadowed figure.

The figure was the same height as Ethan, the figure's hair looked just like how you remembered Ethan's to be, the figure stood like Ethan would, with a carefree appearance, hands in it's pockets as it grins at you. And that's what breaks the illusion, that sickening grin. It's the kind that screams ill intent, the kind that makes your blood boil and stomach churn.

That is not Ethan Green.

And now you know, Ethan's not coming back, you can feel it, the truth floats through the air, palpable and headache-inducing. No matter how many people you call desperately, no how matter how many dial tones ring through your phone, no matter hard you wish for this to all be some sort of fever dream.

The feeling you were trying so hard to hide under layers of conspiracy and empty hope is now flung in front of your eyes unwaveringly, Ethan's gone, and he's not coming back.

reblogs are appreciated so much !!

[nctsworld]

pedal to the metal

✩ jaemin x reader | mall au | arcade attendant!jaemin | fluff | 3.3k

SUMMARY ⇾ when the claw machine eats your money, jaemin, the cute arcade attendant, offers to play a game with you in lieu of a refund. little does he expect you to beat him. | based off of @mistymark​​’s nct mall employees post WARNINGS ⇾ fluff, bit of angst, jaemin is competitive, kissing in the epilogue     RATING ⇾ teen+ 

⇾ gif created by me, please don’t share or repost without credit!

Leaning over the glass counter filled with endless prizes, Jaemin holds out two large plushies, one in each of his hands. 

“Pikachu or Spongebob?” He swivels his head to them individually before beaming down at the little girl in front of him. 

With the alternating supervision of her parents, she’s been one of the recent regulars at the arcade and finally saved up enough tickets fo a decent prize, deciding to cash them in today. Her face lights up and targets in on one particular plushie, already inching towards it with open hands. 

“Pikachu, Pikachu!” she squeals. 

The worker’s smile deepens, “Great choice. Couldn’t have picked better myself.” 

He laughs airily as she squeezes Pikachu like it’s the last thing she’ll ever love, bouncing up and down with joy. Today, the girl’s mom is with her and she holds her ecstatic daughter close to her leg, rubbing her arm warmly. 

“So I guess I’ll see you two next week?” Jaemin asks. 

“If she gets over Pikachu as fast as she did with Olaf, then probably yes,” the mom replies with a defeated head shake. “Thanks again, Jaemin. Say bye to the nice boy.” 

“Bye, Jaemin!” 

The mother and daughter wave good-bye with wide smiles, as did Jaemin. Giving prizes out and seeing the delightful reactions on the recipient’s face was one of the best parts of his job. 

Oh, and so was being able to play all the arcade games for free. 

For Jaemin, being the arcade attendant at the local mall was a dream come true. He was once in the same place as the little girl—always coming to the same arcade every day after school. Although he loved winning prizes (who doesn’t?), he also prided himself in being the best at every game, knowing all the secrets and strategies like the back of his hand. Dance Dance Revolution, Street Fighter, Beatmania, Time Crisis, Super Bike, Pac-Man… You name it, and Jaemin can wipe the floor with anybody. It’s why none of his friends liked to play the games with him, but they still had fun nonetheless.

“That girl is insane!” Chenle exclaims with a point of his thumb, strolling up to the counter. He’s one of Jaemin’s many friends and an everyday mall-goer. Jisung comes up next to him, also a friend and works at the mall’s McDonald’s. The mall was really a second home to them all. 

Jisung bobs his head in disbelief. Then, he turns to face their worker friend. 

“You’ve gotta admit she’s really good, right?” 

The lanky figure cocks an eyebrow. “What are you guys talking about? I was busy giving out a prize to someone.” 

The shortest individual of the three widens his eyes. “There was a girl who was just playing Super Bike. She kept kicking everyone’s ass, even us.”

Jisung nods fervently, “I was telling Chenle that she’s probably as good as you, maybe even better.” 

Jaemin scoffs, running a hand through his hair. “No one can beat me at Super Bike, you both know that.” 

“You haven’t seen her play, though…” Chenle sighs dreamily, perching his chin into his palms, as he drifts off into space and replays the gameplay in his mind. 

“I don’t know, Jaemin,” Jisung shrugs. He absentmindedly fiddles with the bundle of tickets left by the little girl. “It’s about time someone beat you at one of the games.” 

Suddenly, Jaemin snatches the tickets from his hands, startling the younger boy. Said younger boy glances up to meet a pair of slitted, burning eyes. In an instant, Jaemin’s eyes melt and a cocky expression flashes by.  

“Like I always say, I never lose.” 

He begins to count the tickets, but the thought of someone being better than him makes him lose track. 

After he finishes counting the tickets, he casually checks-up on the motorcycle racing simulator to see what all the fuss was about. To his disappointment, he is met with a young boy, playing by himself.  

Jaemin makes a mental note to keep an eye and ear out for this mystery Super Bike girl.  

A few days pass. You’re at the mall by yourself to kill some time and to procrastinate on studying. You spent a while at the bookstore already, so you decide to do something a little more fun. 

At the bustling arcade, you’re quickly drawn towards the claw machine with the mountain of plushies. You know the odds of winning are low, but one round couldn’t hurt. Placing your money into the claw machine, you begin to fiddle with the joystick. However, nothing’s moving. 

Your face crinkles in confusion, so you add money again, thinking that maybe it was a one-time fluke. Nope, definitely not a fluke because the claw still doesn’t work. You’re now two dollars down and you didn’t even get the chance to play.  

Walking around the arcade, you try to find a worker, but to no avail. You stand in front of the glass counter, waiting for an attendant. While waiting, you’re peering at all the variety of prizes to be won and wish you were skilled and patient enough to obtain such things. It��s no wonder why the claw machine drew you in, at least that game filled you with a false sense of a fast and easy win.   

After finishing a supervising round in the arcade, Jaemin notices a girl at the front counter. Actually, scratch that, a stunning girl—one that he hasn’t seen in the arcade before. He’d definitely remember you if you had. The ends of his mouth stretch and he strides towards you with a wind of confidence.

“Hi, do you need help with something?” 

Jolting slightly, you’re taken aback by both the handsome figure and the question. You saw him earlier at one of the games, but it never crossed your mind that such a young, attractive guy like that would be the resident arcade attendant. You subconsciously do a double take, eyeing him up and down, causing Jaemin’s grin to become more cheeky.

“Hi, yeah,” You point to where you were previously. “I was trying the claw machine and it took my money, but it didn’t let me play any rounds.” 

“Oh?” He scrunches his face and heads toward the machine. You follow behind. “We just fixed it a few weeks ago, that’s weird.” 

At the claw machine, Jaemin feels around the machine, checking on the knobs and buttons, and even places a coin into it to test out your claim. He tinkers with the joystick, and realizes you’re right; the machine’s only taking money without allowing any plays. 

So he kicks it. Hard.  

You break out into a chortle. “Does that actually help?” 

“Always works like a charm.” 

Another kick, and more chortling. 

Jaemin shifts his head towards you and places a hand on his chest. His eyes waver, searching around him as if someone would be listening, and lowers his voice in a hush. 

“I’m a secret machine whisperer, you gotta trust me,” he says with a small wink, and you trust him by standing back and resuming to observe him with a fluttering heart.  

The attendant tries the machine with money once more, but the kicking evidently didn’t help. This only leads Jaemin to increase the intervals of his kicking. Soon, kicking evolves into desperately shaking the contraption.  

Bemused and shaking your head, you comment, “I don’t think your whispering is working very well.” 

He attempts one last time, but to nobody’s surprise, it fails. He tapes an out of order sign onto the glass. With hands on his hips, he exhales a lengthy sigh.  

“Sorry for your lost money. I can give you a refund.”

“Aw, no. It’s okay, it was only a couple of bucks. I was more so looking forward to playing the game, really.” 

A lightbulb goes off in Jaemin’s head. 

“Did you wanna play a game with me to make up for it instead?” 

Although he enunciates the question slowly, cautious of your reply and potential rejection, there’s a contrasting smug expression on his face. Your teeth tug at your bottom lip, about to answer, but then you pout.  

“Aren’t you working right now though?” 

Jaemin shrugs nonchalantly, “It’s kind of slow at the moment and I can argue that I’m maintaining the game.”

“Like what you were just doing with the claw machine?” 

“Exactly.” 

Both of you laugh in unison, gazes converging together. If only the strong sparks flying between you two could somehow fix the claw machine... but then again, you would’ve never had a reason to speak to the beautiful boy in the first place. 

“Sure, what game did you have in mind?” 

Tapping a finger on his chin, Jaemin runs the possibilities in his head. What’s a game that he can easily impress you with his skills, but is also equally fun for you to play? 

“Super Bike?” he offers. 

You nod with a small smile, “Okay, lead the way.” 

Thankfully, as the two of you arrive at the game, no one’s currently playing. You jump onto the left motorcycle, while Jaemin gets onto the right. He enjoys how you cutely sway back and forth, accustoming yourself to the fake motorbike. He gives you a quick breakdown of the controls, and tells you to focus only on the gas and brake since he’ll choose automatic transmission to make things easier for you. You hum with puffed cheeks, ready to play. 

Following Jaemin’s choices of the easiest map level and transmission settings, the race immediately starts. 

Jaemin can play Super Bike in his sleep, so he starts off the first half of the lap with his eyes on his screen, then for the second half, he looks over at you for a few moments. You’re glued to your screen. The glint in your eyes sparkles with pure amusement and an edge of competitiveness. He breathes in the enticing sight, especially as you bite your lip with heightened focus. 

But then, flashes of red flare upon your face. Jaemin’s heart knocks nervously at his chest because the flashes are coming from the sign above your screen with the words ”RACE LEADER”. He’s dragged straight into the match again, not wanting to lose.  

“Have you played this before?” he shouts over the background noises and music. 

“Only a few times,” you shrug lightly. Your eyebrows raise as Jaemin catches up, trailing almost nose to nose with the end of your motorcycle, yet the finish line is approaching fast. Narrowing your eyes, you accelerate and curve around the last bit of the map without struggle. Before you know it, you reach the finish line right before Jaemin does. 

As the first place win radiates from your screen, you pump your arms in the air and remove yourself from the bike. 

On the other hand, Jaemin’s gaze is stuck on the screen, jaw hanging. The big two taunts him with every flicker.  

“Well, that was fun. Thanks for the game—” 

You’re about to ask for his name, but his odd reaction catches you off-guard. You take a step closer to him until someone cries out:   

“That’s Super Bike girl!”

Swinging your head towards the origin of the cry, you see a boy jog over with a wave of his index finger. Chenle’s voice breaks the arcade attendant out of his frozen state. Jaemin whips his head towards you, still on the motorbike.   

“You’re Super Bike girl?!” he echoes, eyebrows knitted. 

“I already have a nickname around here?” you giggle. “I only played this game once a few days ago.” 

Chenle asks him, “Did Biker Girl beat you?” 

Jaemin avoids the inquiry, darting his eyes and pressing his lips together tightly. The friend passes the question onto you with owl eyes, and you shyly nod. 

“Oh, my God, and I missed it?!” He huffs in disappointment, but then recollects himself as he takes a few steps toward you. 

“Are you free after seven to come back and play again? Our friends need to witness this. This is history in the making.” 

Immediately, Jaemin shoots daggers into Chenle. The daggers definitely have profanities written all over. You catch a glimpse of Jaemin and can practically read every word.  

“Uhm,” you lower your voice, despite the fact Jaemin can still hear you. “Your friend looks pretty pissed. I feel kinda bad to just come back to beat him in front of people.”

“Oh, don’t worry about feeling bad,” the attendant’s friend waves his hand carelessly. “He always makes us feel bad when he constantly brags about how he’s the best at every game in here.” 

“Is that so?” You glance at the boy on the bike with a new perspective. You could definitely see this guy as cocky, but maybe he’s still sweet underneath the exterior. You also wouldn’t mind seeing him once more before you head home, and now you had a reason. 

“Well, count me in. I’ll be back at seven on the dot.” 

With a flutter of your fingers, you say your temporary good-byes to the pair of boys and head out of the arcade. Jaemin finally props himself off the motorbike, getting back to work.   

Passing by Chenle, he half-jokingly seethes, “I hate you,” into his ear. 

Without a care in the world, Chenle frantically messages their group chat to come by the mall later to witness the match of a lifetime. 

“Hey, did I miss it?” Mark pants as he puts an arm around Jeno from behind. 

“No, you got here right on time. Super Bike girl should be coming any time soon.” 

On the backend of the motorbike, Jaemin sits at the edge of it, studying the modest crowd around the racing simulator. Along with Jisung and Chenle, several of Jaemin’s other close friends are here to cheer for his downfall. For those who aren’t there, his friends are equipped with their phones in hand, ready to record the monumental event. 

Weaving through the crowd with mumbles of “Excuse me’s,” you reach your destination and appear in front of the arcade worker. 

The rising buzz of the crowd fades from your ears and into the background within his presence. You melt at him looking so coolly, bending over the motorbike with folded arms, and give him a warm smile. 

“Just because you’ve got a sweet smile, it doesn’t mean I’m going to go easy on you.” 

You playfully drop your mouth as the people around “Ooooh” in harmony. Your tongue is pressed against your lower teeth as Jaemin spins himself to the front of the bike. You get onto your previous seat from hours ago, grasping onto the fake vehicle as if you owned it.

You watch Jaemin enter the settings in. He’s not underestimating you this time and he executes his promise of not going easy on you—the hardest map and manual transmission are chosen, signaling you to really bring your A-game for this round.    

At first, the match is tight. You’re practically side by side on the map, even having the occasional opportunity to push him off track and vice-versa. Changing up techniques, as the second lap rings in, you switch transmission gears and ease on the brake for a brief moment, hugging the curve of the map. 

With that move, the red light flashes above him. Jaemin believes, no, he knows he’s going to win. Sweet victory is on the tip of his tongue, he can taste it. Ten seconds are left on the clock, ten seconds left until he beats you and continues to reign king of the game.

But, you suddenly speed past him and the game’s over before he can properly process it.  

The screams surrounding you engulf the entirety of the arcade.

Jaemin’s mouth is on the floor as he realizes he lost. 

No, his mouth is six feet under because you’re currently entering a nickname into the all-time best rankings. You beat Jaemin’s time on the map, seizing the new first place rank for the game. 

Everyone circles you in congratulations, but your eyes are honed in on one individual in the crowd. He hops off the bike, brushes past the crowd, and escapes to the counter, continuing his shift like nothing happened. Hastily, you go after him and find him crouching down behind the glass. He’s unpacking boxes filled with what you assume are prizes. 

On your forearms, you lean over the glass counter. “Hey, when does your shift end?” 

Your assumption is answered as you see him restock some of the plushies in the transparent container underneath you. 

“Why do you want to know? So you can beat me again at another game?” he grumbles, the bitterness blatant in his voice. Nevertheless, you persist. 

“‘Cause Super Bike girl wants to get to know the cute Arcade Boy she met today over dinner.” 

He pauses and his eyebrows perk up at the words cute and dinner in the same sentence. His ego is still sore, but he’ll bite.    

“Is it a date?” he presses further with a disinterested tone, continuing to move the items.  

You drag your bottom lip up, drumming your fingers slowly against the glass. 

“Only if you want it to be.” 

Your words bandage his sore ego quickly, but he wants to bathe in his pity a little while longer. He twists his mouth, fighting against the urge to show you his teeth.  

The boy stands up and leans over the counter too. He’s greeted by your strong aura, yet it doesn’t completely reach your eyes; your gaze is soft and gentle. “I get off at nine, so it’s pretty late.” 

“That’s okay. I can play games until then—” 

You peel yourself off from the glass and properly introduce yourself, holding your hand out. He glances at it for a second, then at your tender look. He gives in and can't help himself from grinning. The arcade attendant reaches for your hand and reciprocates the shake.  

“I’m Jaemin.”  

That day, Jaemin learned that losing at the arcade games wasn’t the worst thing in the world. 

EPILOGUE 

Clutching onto Jaemin’s waist underneath his leather jacket with your chin resting on his shoulder, you’re swaying side by side with him on the racing game that brought you two together. It’s his day off today, and both of you thought it’d be cute to spend some time at the arcade before the movie showing later that evening. 

“Ease on the gas!” you dictate. He rolls his eyes at your backseat driving.    

“No, it’s too early!” he protests and goes against your advice, accelerating further. When that makes him go off-road a bit, you sigh smugly while he groans meekly. 

“See, and this is why I’m better at Super Bike than you,” you tease before pecking a kiss on his cheek. Tingles rise to his cheeks.

“Yeah, but I’ve played this game a lot longer than you.” It’s the second lap and he’s inching towards the finish line.  

“Yeah, but who holds the record?” 

After he speeds through it, the list of the best times roll onto the screen. Your nickname still stands proudly at number one from the day you asked him out on a date. 

Jaemin smiles at the not-so far memory. He then twists and extends his neck over his shoulder, sharing a sweet kiss with you. Your grip around his waist tightens, your fingers sinking into his skin. His palm raises and cups your face, deepening the kiss.    

Breaking away for a moment, he says, “Yeah, well, I’m the better kisser.” 

You sweep your nose against his. “That’s up for debate…” 

Your lips meet once more lovingly.  

“Can you guys stop making out in the arcade again?” Jisung groans. “Kids are here, you know. Like me.” 

Chenle cuts in, “I thought you were glad someone beat Jaemin for once.”

“I mean, yeah, but I didn’t expect the same person to have her tongue constantly down his throat!” 

Still lip-locked, Jaemin and you smile into the next kisses from their remarks while Jisung and Chenle run off to play another game, far away from the new couple.