#also no i’m not going to pick up drinking again because a simple majority of this dumb country elected that man fuck them

[frankbelloriley]

I woke up feeling incredibly numb and thinking how I felt the morning after in 2016 where I was in a much different place. Then it was mostly shock and anger. I remember the disbelief. That and the Super Bowl a few months later are two times I can think of feeling pure nausea without any medical conditions. This is just numb and what do we do from here.

[nicoline1998enilocin]

The Only One For Me || Part 1

PAIRING || College Student!Young!Tony Stark x College Student!Fem!Reader

WORDCOUNT || 7.5K 

SUMMARY || You and Tony have been crushing on one another since the beginning of your time at college, but it’s not until he gets to kiss you during a kissing booth that he finally gathers the courage to ask you out on a date. Once he’s picked you up for said date, he can’t stop telling you how he feels about you, and and he also wants nothing more than to kiss you every chance he gets.

RATING || Mature (M)

TAGS || College AU. No powers AU. Young Tony Stark AU. Mutual pining. Idiots in love. Love confessions. Sexual tension.

A/N || This story has been brought to life by none other than my bestie and the most amazing human to be walking on the earth right now: @ccbsrmsf1. From working out the idea to listening to my endless thoughts and additions and proofreading to top it all of, I’m forever grateful for you and your support. Eu te amo 🤍

A/N 2.0 || This is written for @elixirfromthestars's writing challenge! The prompts used in this story are College AU - Saying I love you for the first time - I'm only doing it because you're cute - Could you hold my hand? - “Make me fantasize, 'bout you baby. And you smell so sweet, like fresh-picked daisies.”

EVENTS @anyfandomfluffbingo || Upperclass/Lowerclass

All graphics are made by @nicoline1998enilocin

Main Masterlist || Tony Stark Masterlist

It's a beautiful spring day in New York City as you walk from the dorm you share with your best friend and classmate, Natasha Romanoff, to the day's first lecture. You only have half a day of classes, so you will sit on a terrace somewhere this afternoon and spend some much-needed quality time together. Over the past three years, you and she have formed a strong bond unlike any other, and you're fortunate to call her your best friend, even if she spends more and more time with her boyfriend, Bruce, lately.

During those same three years, you have also developed a major crush on Bruce's best friend - the shy, sweet, and soft-spoken Tony Stark. Even though you both follow the same course to get an engineering degree, you're in different classes, meaning you don't get to see each other as often as you'd like. The first time you met Tony during freshman year is a moment you'll never forget, as it's been engraved in your memory as the best night of your life so far.

"C'mon, let's go dance!" Natasha yells over the loud music, and you agree after pouring yourself another drink in one of the red cups. While you're usually not much of a party-goer – instead, you'd much rather sit in your dorm and read – she managed to convince you to come along, and that's how you find yourself amidst a large crowd of college students as they're partying the night away.

Meanwhile, on the other end of the party, Bruce is trying to get Tony to loosen up a little, too. He's always very shy and introverted, but he wouldn't say no to his best friend for anything, which is how he found himself at this party, holding a cup with something he couldn't pronounce in it. It tastes fine, so he takes small sips and watches the crowd afar.

"Come on, we should go to the dancefloor! I heard Natasha is going to be here, and she will bring a friend," Bruce said, trying to convince his friend. At the thought of Bruce and Natasha seeing each other, he can almost feel his eyes roll back, as they've been running circles around each other for a while, but neither of them has done anything even though they're attracted to each other.

"Fine. But if you leave me alone and go somewhere with Natasha instead, I'm leaving," Tony grumbled. Bruce was just happy he got to see Natasha again, and to have his best friend tagging along is always a nice bonus. What Tony did not anticipate was seeing you. In his 19 years on the planet, he has never seen someone as naturally beautiful as you - very light make-up, simple jeans, a black tank top, and a smile that outshines even the brightest stars in the night sky. For Tony, it is love at first sight.

"Nat!" Bruce says as he approaches her with a significant smile, Tony following close behind. You also turn around at the mention of your friend's nickname, and even though your eyes first land on Bruce, you quickly cross gazes with someone who you've never seen before but whose handsome features and broad physique have your body on fire, even though you don't even know who it is.

"Nat, Y/N, I want you to meet my best friend, Tony." As he's being introduced, a red blush appears on his cheeks, and he raises his hand awkwardly as his way of greeting. As you look at the sight that unfolds in front of you, you can't help but smile as the dormant butterflies in your stomach slowly start to wake up - you haven't felt this way in a long time, but you're not complaining.

As the evening progresses, Natasha and Bruce are expectantly busier with each other than anyone else at the party. Still, you and Tony get along quite well, and the drinks keep flowing. While neither of you is drunk, the alcohol certainly helps you both to loosen up and now you're dancing together without a single care in the world. The way his hands feel on your body has your insides set on fire, and with every move against his body, you're starting to have more and more fun.

From that night on, whenever there's a party, you and Tony tend to gravitate towards each other, always ending up dancing. While the dancing is often very innocent, it can also turn to some of the hottest grindings, leaving you both breathless and wanting at the end of the night, though neither of you has ever managed to gather the courage to take things a step further.

As you walk through the halls on your way to the lecture, you're so engrossed in your conversation with Natasha that you fail to notice the wall of muscle in front of you, causing you to bump into it. However, before you can even think about what's going on, you feel strong arms catching you, and you're immediately looking up to see who saved you from even more embarrassment than you're already feeling.

"Steady there, Angel," Tony says softly, your insides melting like butter as he does with a flush on his cheeks. Of all the people you could have bumped into, it has to be the man you're harboring a major crush on. As you're steadying yourself, you're suddenly very aware of the closeness and how gentle his grip is on your arms, and your cheeks are heating up right along his.

"I-I'm sorry for bumping into you," you say shyly before grabbing your bag from the floor, already missing how his hands felt as they held onto you.

"Oh, uhm- it's okay," Tony says as his hand rubs the back of his neck, the redness of his cheeks intensifying as he looks at the floor. For once in his life, he wishes he would get over it already and tell you how he feels, but each time he even comes close to doing so, he changes his mind again, though the universe will have an entirely different plan for you soon.

When you've straightened yourself out, it's time to continue to class, and Natasha can't stop talking about what just happened - or, more specifically, what didn't happen not too long ago.

"You should have done something to thank him! You should have kissed him on the cheek!" she almost shrieks with excitement, and you give her a shove, letting her know you disagree with that statement. While you would love nothing more than to kiss him - even if it's 'just' on the cheek -you also know it's not something you would do in a million years.

"Girl, are you sure you aren't out of your mind? Because I'm starting to think I should maybe sign you up for some therapy," you say jokingly, and Natasha can't help but laugh at your comment.

"Well, I'd rather stay with you if that's okay. And I would miss Bruce too much if you put me into therapy," she says, and this time it's her turn to blush. The color of her cheeks is seriously rivaling the redness of her hair at the mention of her boyfriend, even though they've been together for almost two years now. You also long to have their love, and secretly, you're jealous each time you see how happy they are together.

"I'd be happy to have you stay, Nat. Life would be very boring without you," you tell her, and she nods in agreement as she walks into the lecture hall, picking a place somewhere in the middle with you. Meanwhile, as you get comfortable, Tony and Bruce also discuss what happened.

"Why didn't you do anything?! You should have offered to carry her bag and walk her to her class," Bruce tells his best friend as they wait in line for coffee. Their lecture doesn't start for another fifteen minutes.

"Dude, nobody does that anymore! And if they did, I'm sure she would have laughed at me if I'd even offered to do one of those things," Tony mumbles, but he couldn't have been further from the truth. You would have loved it if he had done it because it meant spending just a few more minutes together.

"I'd disagree with that, but that's a topic for another moment. Honestly, that girl is head over heels for you, and you've told me you feel the same, so why don't you do anything about it? It's dripping off you both, man!" he says, clapping his best friend on the shoulder to emphasize his point.

"I- I don't know. I guess I'm afraid she will reject me, and I've been through that too many times already. I'm tired of getting my heart ripped out and stepped on over and over again," Tony admits somberly, making Bruce's entire mood shift, too. Tony has never admitted this out loud, and while he does hope you will be different, he's also scared of taking the chance.

"Oh wow… It sucks that it happened, and I'm sorry you went through that. But from what Natasha has told me, I don't think Y/N is the type of person to do that to you," he says, and Tony smiles a little at mentioning your name. He wants it to be true so badly, and for the rest of the day, he will hold onto that hope as he thinks of ways to ask you out, even if it's for a coffee at the restaurant on Campus.

"So, how are we going to raise money for the dance?" you ask Natasha as you're enjoying a glass of red wine on the terrace of the café you two like to frequent on days like this. You have the rest of the day off, so there's plenty of time to enjoy the weather and plan how you are going to raise money for the dance later this year - your college always lets students raise money to be able to organize the dance.

"What about a kissing booth?" Natasha says in a tone that makes it seem like she's talking about the weather.

"Are you out of your mind?! Did you forget we're among the few girls in the engineering program? I am not going to be in that booth, Nat," you say with a shake of your head, though you also feel some butterflies at the thought of possibly getting to kiss Tony and finally finding out how soft his perfect, pink lips actually are.

"It's not as if you wouldn't want to kiss Tony," your best friend then says, and it immediately sets off a chain reaction of you stumbling in disbelief. At the same time, your cheeks give away something entirely different as their shade is starting to resemble the same color as the drink you're holding.

"Just- shut up, okay?" you mutter, making Natasha laugh heartily. After she agrees, you two come up with a few more ideas, but none of them are as good as the kissing booth, so after talking about it a bit more, you two eventually agree to bring the idea to the planning committee for the dance so they can approve it. Barely a week later, the two of you get the all-clear, and the news spreads like wildfire through the entire school.

"Tony, you're never going to believe what Nat just texted me," Bruce says with a broad smile as they stand in line at a coffee shop. You and Natasha are on the other side of the Campus, as your appointment with the planning committee just ended, so instead of waiting to tell the news, she decided to text her boyfriend immediately.

"The girls will organize a kissing booth to raise money for the dance! This is the perfect opportunity to make your dream of kissing her come true!" he says enthusiastically. Still, Tony's eyes widen at the thought; even though he has fantasized about the way you would taste and the soft sounds you'd make as he gently squeezes your hips while you're in his lap, your lips not leaving one another for even a single second, he didn't ever think those fantasies would possibly come true.

"But won't they kiss a lot of other guys, too? That way, it's not special," Tony says with a slight pout before moving forward in line.

"Well, you're right, but Nat and I are fabricating a little plan that ensures you will be first in line to kiss Y/N just like you want," Bruce says as he smiles at his phone, quickly replying to Natasha as Tony sighs softly. While he isn't too happy that he won't be the only guy to kiss you that day, he would still like to be the first, hoping it'll be a kiss never to forget.

Before Tony can answer, it's their turn to order their coffee, and when they're waiting for their coffee to be made, Bruce turns to his best friend with a smirk. "You need to relax, okay? We will ensure you're the first because you deserve it. You've been dreaming about her for so long; it's time we're helping you progress in your love life."

A few weeks later, it's finally time for the kissing booth. The news has spread like wildfire, and you can hear both students and teachers talking about it - though both for different reasons. The students are thrilled that this is happening; they're excited they get to kiss some of the most beautiful women in the entire college, and the teachers grumble about the fact that it had to happen during their classes, though they all agreed to it.

"How are you feeling?" Natasha asks as she puts the last few touches on your make-up so that it will accentuate your outfit beautifully. The weather outside is excellent, and you've opted to wear a sundress, making you look adorable as you get ready to be in the kissing booth. You, Natasha, and a few other girls are taking turns in the booth, each standing there for about 15 minutes over two hours, trying to raise as much money as you can for the dance.

First, it's your turn, and you're both excited and nervous about what will come. Knowing Tony will be the first person in line to have butterflies in your stomach go wild; you can already feel your body thrumming with excitement at seeing him again. You don't get to see him as often as you'd like, seeing your busy schedules and conflicting classes, but when you do, it's like an angel has come down from heaven, and you can't stop smiling for an entire day.

"Ready?" Natasha asks after putting some vanilla-flavored chapstick on your lips, and you hum in agreement. When you walk over, you're immediately met by the sight of the man you love, a five-dollar bill in his hand as he's nervously bouncing on his feet to see you, and he's not disappointed in the slightest. You picked the dress you're wearing especially for him, as it shows off your curves beautifully, and Tony has to try not to drop his jaw to the floor, though the color on his cheeks gives his thoughts away immediately.

As you walk to your side of the kissing booth, Tony wrings his hands together nervously, the bill lying on the counter between you both. It's been a long time since you have been this close, and in mere minutes, you two will be the closest you've ever been.

"H-hi, Angel," Tony says with a smile that you happily reciprocate as you greet him. As you notice the five-dollar bill, you grab his change, but he stops you before you can do it.

"I- uhm… I was hoping- if it's okay with you if I could uhm- maybegettwokisses?" he mumbles the last words so quickly that you're having difficulty understanding. Then, when it clicks after a few moments, the heat in your cheeks rivals his color.

"Yeah, that's- perfect," you tell him, and he can't stop smiling at the thought that he gets to kiss you twice. As you get ready, Tony brings his hands to your face, cupping your cheeks gently before rubbing his thumbs over the warm flesh and looking into your eyes for a moment, wanting to bask in the moment's glory. Then, as he leans in, you shut your eyes before you're met with the feeling of his lips on yours.

They're soft, pillowy, and perfect as he takes his time with the kiss. It's slow and sweet, and it sets your insides on fire as your arms encircle his neck, pulling him as close as possible with the counter in between you two. While you and Tony get lost in the feeling of one another, Bruce and Natasha secretly share glances of excitement, as they've been waiting for this moment for nearly 3.5 years.

The entire time, your heart beats like it's about to leap out of your chest, and the butterflies in your stomach fluttered wildly as you smiled into the kiss. As he pulls away, you feel a piece of your soul leaving with him, wanting nothing more than to kiss those lips again and get another taste of Tony Stark.

Tony pulls back with a smirk, and his hands slip away from your face, but he reaches for yours instead of letting them fall to his sides. "Could you hold my hand? I want to ensure I'm not dreaming when I kiss you again," Tony tells you with flushed cheeks, and you immediately nod without thinking about it for a second. As his fingers gently intertwine with yours, it feels nothing short of right, as if you two were meant to be together from birth.

As Tony leans in again, you're already smiling before he even gets to kiss you, making him smile before his lips capture yours again. This time, Natasha takes a few photos of the two of you, wanting you to remember this moment forever - even though it definitely won't be the last time you kiss him, you'll be thrilled to have a visual memory, too. After pulling away, you and Tony look at each other for a few more moments before he asks you something you could only have dreamt about.

"Go on a date with me, Angel, please." Your crush has a look in his eyes you can't quite describe, but it's luring you in as you nod in excitement, the butterflies once again going wild as your heart rate is still beating as if it's trying to make up for missed beats each time you saw him and fell more in love with him. Then, as you feel Tony's fingers slipping from yours, you're left with an empty feeling as you watch him walk away, a giddy smile and rosy cheeks making him look adorable.

The rest of your fifteen minutes fly by as you can only think about the special kisses you shared with Tony, and out of respect and love for him, you only kiss the other guys on the cheek, much to their dismay. Natasha has also decided to only kiss guys on the cheeks, seeing how she's been in a relationship with Bruce for the past few years, and the other girls got to choose what they were most comfortable with.

Once your time in the kissing booth was over, you realized that you had a lot more fun than you thought you would, and all in all, you raised nearly $350 to go to the organization of the dance.

"Natasha, can I ask you something about Y/N?" Tony asks as she's sitting on Bruce's bed, and she hums in answer before flipping the page of her book. He's been busy planning your date for a few days now, and the thought of you two kissing did not leave his mind for even a second.

"I- uhm, I want to surprise her with some flowers before our date tomorrow, but I'm not sure which ones she likes, so… yeah," he tells her, the notebook with all his plans open before him. Many ideas are crossed out, others have added small notes, and he wrote your initials in a little heart as well, which Natasha hasn't stopped teasing him about from the moment she saw it.

"Don't tell her I told you this, but she's obsessed with tulips. Ever since she was little, she has grown them in her parents' garden, and her parents always send her a bouquet on her birthday. While she loves all colors, she loves white tulips most of all," your best friend said without looking up from the pages before her. As Tony listens to the story, he immediately starts to smile at the thought of your face when you see that he bought your favorite flowers.

"Okay, thank you. And what do you think she'd prefer, a walk through the park or going to a coffee shop and getting some coffee?"

"First off, she doesn't drink coffee unless it's extremely sweet and iced, at which point you can't call it coffee anymore, but secondly, you would make her happiest by taking her to her favorite coffee shop, it's a small one in Brooklyn actually, but she rarely gets the chance to go there because of our busy school schedules. When we do get the chance to go there, she's often sitting in one of the booths by the window to look at the people walking by as she enjoys her 'coffee' or a hot chocolate."

The entire time, Tony is furiously taking notes so he can surprise you tomorrow. The two of you have been texting quite a lot from the moment you kissed, and even though you've been trying to figure out what he has planned for you, he's keeping it a surprise. But now that he has a fully formed plan, he can't wait to take you on a date you will remember for the rest of your lives.

The night before your date with Tony is mostly spent texting Tony, as you're growing increasingly excited each time you see his name on your phone. Every time your screen lights up, your face does, too, and the butterflies in your stomach are doing somersaults all at once. Then, as you're walking into your bedroom while reading the text he just sent, you suddenly remember you don't have an outfit planned yet.

As soon as you reply to his first message, you immediately ask him how you should dress for the date, as you're still completely in the dark about what he has planned. However, he's letting you know one detail - he's going to pick you up on his motorcycle so that you can dress accordingly. At the thought of being on his motorcycle, you're sure you need to grab some clean panties, as the ones you're wearing now are entirely ruined from the idea alone.

After he lets you know he's picking you up at 2 p.m., it's time for you to call it a night. You have one last lecture in the morning, for which you need some proper rest.

Tony >> Good night, my beautiful Angel. I can't wait to see you tomorrow 🌷

Angel >> Good night, Handsome! I'm looking forward to seeing what you have planned for me 😉

When you hit send, you bite your lip in excitement, trying to keep in the giggle that wants to escape because of your excitement. As you're getting ready to get some much-needed sleep, Tony is still wide awake and smiling at his phone as he's reading your message. He's possibly even more excited to see you tomorrow than you are to see him and what he has planned, and the fact that you called him Handsome has caused the butterflies in his stomach to go wild.

"What're you smiling at?" Bruce asks as he walks out of the shower, his dark curls still dripping from the water. He looks over at his best friend. Even though he knows he's smiling because of you, he can't help but ask because he enjoys seeing Tony like this.

"Oh, nothing," Tony says with a small smile before turning off his screen and putting down his phone with a sigh. He's been spending every last one of his waking minutes talking to you, but now that you've gone to sleep, he already misses you, which makes the wait until he gets to pick you up even longer. That night, you and Tony had a good rest, meaning you're well rested and ready for the next day and the much-anticipated date he had planned.

The following day, you're up bright and early for your lecture, which is over at noon, leaving enough time to return to your dorm and prepare for your date. Last night, you already laid out your outfit - a pair of light blue jeans, a white tank top, Natasha's dark red leather jacket that she let you borrow, and your high top Converse to finish the look - and now it's time to change into that and do your hair and make-up.

After a quick shower, you let your hair loose today, as it'll be the most convenient while wearing a helmet on the back of Tony's motorcycle. You can feel desire coursing through your veins as you think about sitting close to his body, the way his muscles are gonna feel under your fingertips, and how you'll be able to smell his cologne the entire time. Combined with the fact that you're gonna be able to feel his soft, pillowy lips on yours again is the cherry on top, because he admitted to wanting to kiss you again, and you couldn't agree more.

Your make-up is simple, as you opt for waterproof mascara and some eyeliner combined with vanilla chapstick, and then you're ready to go. You're done right on time because a few minutes before 2 p.m., you hear a knock on your door, and excitement flows through even a single inch of your body as you walk to the front door. Tony is waiting with a surprise in hand, wearing an all-black outfit that will set your insides on fire, too, as he looks devilishly handsome in his get-up, combined with sunglasses and his usual messy hair.

As the door swings open, you gasp softly as you're met with a sight you've gotten to love over the years, and that is a large bouquet of your favorite flowers: white tulips. That, and the man holding them. For a moment, you stand there nailed to the ground, unsure of what to do as your brain catches up with the moment, but when it does, you profusely apologize with burning cheeks before taking the flowers from his hands and inviting him into your dorm.

"These are beautiful, Tony, and they're my favorites too," you tell him with a broad smile, which works infectious as he smiles along with you. Natasha has given him some very helpful tips, and he has picked up on some things over the years, too, so he has gone above and beyond to make today perfect for you, as he wants it to be a day you will remember for the rest of your life.

"I'm happy you like them," he says as he watches you work with precision while arranging them into a vase and putting them on your desk when they're perfect. When you turn around, you're met with the sight of Tony holding out one of his hands, and you put yours in his without a second thought. He gently guides you to him, and when you're both almost touching, he leans in as you feel his breath ghosting past your ear.

"Can I kiss you, Angel? I've been dreaming of kissing you again ever since we shared our first kiss," he says softly, with goosebumps erupting all over your skin. Your hands immediately move to his waist as you nod, and before you can think about what's happening, you feel his lips on yours again, setting your entire body and soul on fire in the best way possible. His fingers gently dig into your sides as you two share this moment, and you wish it could last forever.

When you have to pull away to catch your breath, you're already missing him and how he tastes, but the red color on his cheeks makes up for it as he's flustered from the kiss you two shared. You're looking up at him to meet his gaze - there's still quite a significant height difference between you two - and when you do, you can feel your cheeks mimicking his as a smirk brightens his features.

It's finally time to go after that, and you interlace your fingers with his after heading out the door. You decided to bring a small bag that holds your phone, some cards, cash, and keys, which is all you'll need today, so while one hand is stuffed in the pocket of the jacket you're wearing, the other is being squeezed gently by the man who's taking you on a date.

The moment you step outside, you're met by the sun shining brightly on you both, making the weather perfect for a ride on his motorcycle, even though you don't know where the two of you will be going. However, before you can even think about putting on a helmet, Tony stands in front of you, your back gently pressing against his bike as he does.

"You have no idea what you do to me, my sweet, irresistible Angel. I'm- fuck, I'm addicted to you; I can't stay away for even a moment," Tony whispers as his fingers dig into your hips, his body pushing you against his bike as his lips place teasing kisses along your jaw and down your neck, a soft moan slipping from your lips as it does. Your hands cup his cheeks before pulling his face to meet yours, your lips crashing onto one another in a battle of tongues to find dominance. Soft groans fall from Tony's lips as he tries to hold himself back, though it's not as easy as he thought it would be, not when you - soft, sweet little you - are like putty under his touch.

"T-Tony," you whisper as his kisses trail down your neck again, and he groans again at the mention of his name. "We shouldn't do this, not here," you tell him, and he hums in agreement, though it's with a heavy heart - and tight pants - that he does. A few more soft pecks on your lips are all you get before he moves away from you again, and you try with all your might not to jump him right then and there.

"Ready?" Tony asks after he has fastened your helmet and you're comfortable on the back of his motorcycle. Your arms are wrapped tightly around him, and you let him know you're ready. When the large machine roars to life, goosebumps erupt all over your body. It's been a dream to ride together, and it feels amazing as you two soar through the streets of Manhattan on your way to your destination for the afternoon.

After talking to Natasha about your favorite café to drink coffee, he has called ahead to ensure they're open and to reserve one of the window booths so your date can be perfect. As it feels like you're flying, you quickly notice that you're leaving Manhattan and on your way to Brooklyn, where you have many unforgettable memories. Growing up there, you spent a lot of time exploring that part of New York, and suddenly, you had an idea of where you might be going.

It takes a little over an hour for you to reach your destination, and the moment you turn the corner to the café Tony is taking you to, you can't stop smiling. You squeeze him a bit in appreciation, making him smile in return. He also makes a mental note to thank Natasha for the idea, as he never would have thought to take you to a place like this. As you approach the café, Tony carefully rides his bike onto the sidewalk before stopping in front of the café and allowing you to get off first.

"How are you feeling, Angel?" Tony asks as his gaze roams over your body, trying to look for any discomfort, and he doesn't find any before taking off his helmet. When he does, you're met with his beautiful dark brown eyes, which you drown in every single time, and your heart rate immediately picks up as the butterflies in your stomach go wild, too.

"I'm good, thank you," you say as he unclips your helmet strap, and you lift it gently off your head before shaking out your hair. It's glowing beautifully as the sun's rays fall on it, illuminating it as you turn to put the helmet down for a moment, needing to unzip the leather jacket. While Tony ensures his motorcycle is off, he fastens the helmets to the handles so they won't get taken, and then he stretches out his hand, gesturing for you to grab it.

The moment you hear the little doorbell above the door ring, you're met with nostalgia, as this is the café you and your Dad used to go to when you were little. Everything is still the same - the decorations on the walls, the tablecloths decorating the tables, and the booths you always love to sit in, and people watch; even the woman behind the counter hasn't changed, other than the fact that she has aged significantly since your childhood.

"Oh, Y/N, my sweet, beautiful girl! I can't believe I finally get to see you again," the woman - who you know as Auntie June - says, and your face splits into a large grin while she walks around the counter. When you grew up, she always sneaked you an extra cookie when your Dad ordered them; even now, when you order her famous chocolate chip cookies, she always gives you an extra one.

"I'm so happy to see you, my dear - your Dad was here the other day, and he talked my ear off about how well you're doing in college and that you're going on a date with a sweet boy," she says proudly, and that's when both yours and Tony's cheeks heat up. While you have told your parents about going on a date with Tony, you didn't expect them to tell others about it, but at the same time, you're also proud to let people know you're on a date with none other than the amazing Tony Stark.

After sharing a few more bits of small talk, you and Tony finally get in your order with June: a hot chocolate with whipped cream, a black coffee for Tony, and two of June's chocolate chip cookies to enjoy as you sit in your favorite booth. While she's preparing the drinks, Tony leads you to the booth he called for, and you happily slip into the same side you always sit at. Still, the only difference is that you're now with the man of your dreams, making it an even more enjoyable experience than usual.

While you and Tony are enjoying the atmosphere while looking outside at the people walking by, as well as stealing glances from one another, June brings you the coffee, hot chocolate, and cookies, only this time she added two extra cookies, even though you didn't pay for them. You still thank her profusely as you smile, knowing that she approves of the man across from you if she does this.

"Angel, you have something- here, let me help you," Tony says as he spots a hot chocolate mustache. Instead of reaching over to remove it with his hand, he leans over the table and kisses you softly, setting your cheeks on fire as he does, your eyes slipping shut. A small sigh escapes when he pulls away, as you would have liked for the moment to last much longer.

"Why did you do that? I mean, I'm not complaining, but-"

"I'm only doing it because you're cute," he said with a wink, and that was enough to send the butterflies in your stomach into a flurry that has you putting your hands on them to calm them down a little bit. The smile on your face doesn't move an inch the entire time you spend there, feeding each other bits of June's amazing cookies and having some fantastic conversations. Just as the café is about to close, she suddenly heads over to the booth, letting you know that she sadly has to close for the night.

"Thank you so much for everything, June, and please, say hi to Christopher and my parents for me," you say, mentioning her husband, who has been running the café with her for the last forty-three years.

"I will, Y/N; he will be so happy to know you stopped by with this sweet boy. And your parents will be delighted to hear you stopped by as well," she says with a few pats on your arm, making you smile. She always makes you feel right at home, and you're already looking forward to seeing her or her husband the next time. You told Tony about an excellent little diner near the café where you can get some great food, so that's precisely where the two of you are headed, as neither of you wants to head back yet.

"How far is it?" Tony asks, and you tell him it's about fifteen minutes away before putting on the helmet and giving him the address so he can put it into his navigation system. During the entire drive, you're happily cuddled up to Tony, his hand occasionally resting on yours as you wait at a traffic light, with you smiling like crazy inside your helmet. While Tony follows the directions, you're enjoying the view from your old neighborhood, as it hasn't changed since you've grown up.

When you're at the diner, Tony turns off the motorcycle again before letting you step off first and then following to park it. The helmets are again quickly secured before your hand slips into his, warm against your palm. As you walk in, you're almost immediately greeted by a lovely young lady, bringing you to some available seating and some menus to look over for dinner. After ordering a beer and a glass of wine, you and Tony flip through the menu for a moment before deciding what to eat.

"Do you want me to recommend something to you?" you ask Tony, who nods as he looks up to meet your gaze.

"I think the burgers here are divine, but I most of all can recommend the bacon burger. It's very juicy and tastes perfect. The fries that go along with it are also a perfect addition," you tell him, and Tony can feel his stomach growling from your description. The woman who got your drink order is back, and after giving you both your drinks, she also takes your order of two bacon burgers before taking away the menu.

"How was it to grow up here? I'm sure it must be quite the difference from Manhattan," Tony asks. Even though he was also born and raised in New York, he's from a different part of town than you, and he has never visited Brooklyn before today.

"It was very nice. Even though I wasn't born here, I can't remember living anywhere other than right here. Everything here is so… homey, I think, is the best way to describe it. People are willing to do a lot more for each other, and if I may say so, it was quite nice not to grow up in the filthy rich part of town. I grew up learning how to do things myself, and I've been working from as early of an age as I was allowed," you tell Tony, who nods in understanding.

He's the opposite of you because, being born and growing up in Manhattan, his parents had so much money they sometimes didn't even know what to do with it. Everything was pretty much handed to him, though he was also determined to make something of himself in life instead of relying on his money, and he's still reaping the benefits of that today.

"But I want you to know I don't mind that you grew up rich. I know you're not like those rich snobs who think they're better than everyone else just because they have money. You work for what you want, and that's something I admire in you, Tony," you tell him as you're holding his hands, and he smiles as his cheeks turn a familiar shade of red.

"Thank you, Angel," he whispers before bringing your hands to his lips and kissing your knuckles softly, making you smile. It doesn't take long for the woman to get your burgers and top off your drinks, and you're thoroughly enjoying yourselves as you take bites of the burgers and enjoy the fries, too. Once that is finished, you two get a milkshake to share for dessert, and you've never laughed so hard at someone getting a brain freeze before.

"You shouldn't drink so fast, dummy!" you say between laughs. Even though Tony is still not happy about the brain freeze, he is very happy to see your beautiful smile. He can look at it for hours and never get tired of it.

"Sorry, my beautiful Angel, I just wanted to taste some too before you drank it all!" he says with a wink, and you make a faux-offended face in return. After smacking him playfully on the hand, you two continue to share the milkshake, the taste of it exploding on your tongue as you do. When the milkshake is finished, too, Tony goes to pay - and it should be noted you tried to pay for the two of you, too, but he did not want you to do that, instead wanting to pay for you because a princess never pays for her meals.

When you step outside, Tony grabs your hand before walking to his motorcycle again, but he doesn't move to grab the helmet. Instead, he grabs your hips and leans in for another kiss, which you happily reciprocate while your arms slip around his neck. The alcohol you two have in your systems helped loosen you both up a bit, and Tony certainly isn't one to shy away from some PDA.

His body presses against yours as your tongues mingle together, ultimately leaving you breathless before he pulls away and gently presses his forehead against yours.

"I want you to be mine, Y/N. You make me fantasize 'bout you, and you smell so sweet, like freshly picked daisies. Each time I'm around you, I get intoxicated by the love I feel for you, and I can never get enough of you, your smile, and your kisses. You live rent-free in my head, and I want - no, need you to be mine," he says as he looks into your eyes, where tears are brimming on your waterline.

"I want that too, Tony. I'm yours; I've always been yours," you tell him before capturing his lips again, a giggle escaping as he does. You've been waiting for this moment for years, and it is even better than you could ever have imagined. The universe has finally aligned so that your biggest dream - being Tony's girlfriend - has finally come true, and you couldn't be happier about it.

After the love confessions, you and Tony head back to Campus, where Natasha eagerly awaits you to come home and share every last detail of your date. After Tony has dropped you off at your dorm and kissed you goodbye in a way that still has your knees shaking with excitement, it's time to go in and update your best friend on everything.

"HOW WAS IT?!" Natasha exclaims excitedly as soon as you walk into the door, but you need a moment to gather your thoughts before going into that with her. Your back is pressed against the door as you smile widely, a sigh escaping your chest as you let it all sink in for a moment.

"Nat, it was AMAZING! I already knew Tony was a gentleman, but today he proved it, too. He started giving me my favorite flowers, and the entire time we were touching or kissing, it was... wow. But the best of all was when he asked me to be his girlfriend," you tell her, and a screech of excitement can be heard through the entire dorm room.

"I'm so happy for you, Detka! You fucking deserve a man like Tony, and he deserves someone as amazing as you, too. But tell me, how were his kisses?" she eagerly asked, and the rest of the night was spent sharing every last detail with your best friend. When you went to bed, you saw a very sweet text from your boyfriend, making you smile wide before going to sleep.

Tony >> Goodnight, my beautiful Angel. I can't wait to see you again, and I love you more than words can ever explain ❤️

[kimbap-r0ll]

Hey! I hope you’re doing well, mentally and physically. I know classes started back up now. Don’t forget to eat and drink water.

I’m not sure how this can be set up but u can do with the idea how you like. But a First date? Scenerio or something Or like first kiss after the second/third date thing? With Feitan. If you don’t mind could u make the s/o Tall tall? Sorry for any typos💜

Hi, I'm doing better but still under some stress ;-;. Here's a scenario, thank you for the ask!

Feitan x tall!reader: First kiss

Feitan started to date you after you worked your courage to ask him. Of course, at first he blatantly said no, but this was because he was afraid you would get hurt when around him. You were from Meteor City, so while you could stay in the city's boundaries forever, the mafia could still come and attack. Feitan didn't want to lose anymore people, especially one that could be his potential love. However, you were able to prove to him that you could fend off yourself and that you really meant it when you said "I love you" to him. So, that was how the relationship started.

He was visiting one day after a major troupe mission. He was back with Phinks and Shalnark, who returned to sort out some negotiations between elders and the troupe. Chrollo wanted to come back, but he was too busy raiding a mafia building. Feitan was left out of the negotiations because the last time he was there he kicked one of the elders off of the stairs. So he decided to spend some time with you instead.

"Welcome back!" You said, hugging him. It looked a little funny in his opinion because you almost picked him up. The difference in your heights was...immense. Feitan felt as though he was almost half your height and it didn't help that you were completely ignorant to how funny it looked when you lifted him from the ground. Phinks laughed a little too hard once and almost got stabbed. Nonetheless Feitan was quite happy to be back and to see you smile. He would never tell you this in person, but his quiet nod and pat on the back was enough for you to understand.

"What did you want to do? I left the entire day free so I don't have to work at the recycling facility today," you told him, walking over to the makeshift kitchen you had in your apartment. The building was dilapidated, but one of the sturdiest ones in Meteor City with more than five stories.

"No plans, just visiting," Feitan responded. He sat down on a couch you had stolen from the junkyard and lowered his bandana, another thing he refused to do in public.

"Ah, ok, well we can visit the market. I need to buy some stuff for this week anyways, the carrot's are all rotten," you pointed out. There was no official grocery store in Meteor City, but the forest nearby along with the growing agricultural sector in the city helped keep people's stomachs full to some extent. You would barter your way for fresh produce, usually selling some valuable you found at one of the junk piles.

"Sure," Feitan shrugged.

"Is that a date?" you joked. The two of you never officially went on a date before, mainly hanging around your place or his. Feitan paused at that comment.

"Sure," once again he shrugged and lifted his bandana back up.

The marketplace wasn't as busy, likely because it was still around noon and most people came out to buy items at around 3pm. You were looking through some fruits (mainly because he once said he liked strawberries) while Feitan was struggling to reach for a high-stand item. You went to go help and of course he pouted about how it made him feel like you were making fun of his height.

"It wasn't my fault that you just happen to be shorter than me," you replied. He didn't say anything back, he just buried his face more into his bandana and huffed.

Sometimes Feitan wished he could be in a peaceful life with you. Just doing simple tasks like buying groceries or the two of you reading art books together. He was lost in his thoughts for a while until you tapped him on the head (which also got you an annoyed glance) and told him the two of you can head back.

At your home you tried your best at making something fancy with what you had. The best you could do was a fancy looking salad, with some fruits added for the flair. You two caught up on each others' lives, with you finding out about the eighth member of the troupe being killed by a Zoldyck.

"Sometimes, I worry that you might...I don't know, get hurt," you said, holding your cup of tea a little tighter.

"Why? I'm stronger than you, worry for yourself," Feitan retorted, stabbing a strawberry hard with his fork.

"I know," you laughed, you looked at him while he tried his best to avoid eye contact. He was still a bit shy, still the same as ever.

By the time you two were done with food and discussing which art book to read next, Feitan was called by Shalnark to come back for a drink with the rest of the troupe who made it to the city. He said that he would come back tomorrow, likely bringing something he stole with him this time.

"Yeah, I'll just be where I always am," you smiled. You followed him to the doorway, about to wave him goodbye until you had an idea.

"Fei, I was wondering...we've never really kissed before, right?"

He stopped, halfway out the door and slowly turning his head to you. He had a feeling of what you were planning to do next. Should he ask for a kiss? Sure, he did want to kiss you at some point, but what if he was weird for that? Is he weird?

"No, we haven't," he responded, turning his head away from you again. But you took his arm and made him face you.

"Do you want to?" you asked, your eyes connecting with his for a millisecond before he turned to look at the fading wallpaper.

"...sure," he sighed. He didn't expect you to actually kiss him but the next thing he knew he felt your soft lips on his.

"Hey, Feitan what took you so long?" Uvogin asked as Feitan entered the bar. He looked dazed, a little out of it but overall alright.

"Did something happen? With y/n?" Shalnark pointed at Feitan, and everyone now could see the slight tint of red on his cheeks. Feitan glared at them and didn't say a word.

"No, it's fine," he said, sliding into a seat next to Machi.

He wasn't going to tell them that you slightly lifted him up again, an endearing act but also a very, very embarrassing one. Feitan wanted to kiss you longer, maybe many more times. But for now, the first kiss was enough to send his heart racing.

[steamishot]

rough

i always find it emotionally difficult whenever matt has 100+ hour work weeks. i have to remind myself to not be as sensitive as my grandma. she derives her mood from the people close to her and her worrying is exaggerated whenever her loved ones go through hardship. i feel bad seeing matt work so much. i think it’s like a path towards early death. however, it could be that my perception of humans and our generation has become weaker. whenever i tell my mom about his work weeks, she shrugs it off and says “he’s a doctor”. and i remind myself that my parents, their friends, and my cousins worked very hard too without having the frequent vacation and time off that matt does. my family who are in entrepreneurship work 6-7 days/week for 12+ hour days with basically no holidays/vacation days throughout the year. i specifically remember as a kid, my cousin’s husband said my dad “works 8 days a week”. one of my parents’ friends who has a donut shop, still starts her day at 3am to open up the shop and start baking. 

two weeks ago, not only did matt work an extra 3 days on his off week, he transitioned into a new medicine (not surgery) rotation for the first time where he worked 105+ hours. he consequently had 15-16 hour work days: leave the house around 6:30am, get home around 7:30pm and then write notes until 10-11pm, for 7 days straight. it is miserable. my new-age weaker self thinks that he needs to learn how to set better boundaries. he has perfectionistic tendencies and does not want to disappoint his work, and he worries too much about his patients at the expense of self-care. finally, he has transitioned from the EAP therapy program to an individual therapist whom he will be seeing biweekly. her name is gabbie. 

we went to autocamp cape cod this past weekend. overall the trip was okay; we were both a little tense. i didn’t want to call off work, so i was working on the car ride there that friday and a little more at the campsite. it’s also been harder for me to relax these days as i’m finishing up the last few classes of my accounting degree. currently at 93% with three more classes to go! the drive there was about 4.5-5 hours and it took over an hour to pick up our rental car. if i knew matt was going to have a 100+ hr work week, we probably wouldn’t have planned it for this week. matt drove the majority of the time and i know it’s tiring/not the ideal “vacation”. but alas, medicine, where surprises are at every corner. 

we were able to do more chill things at home/around the neighborhood such as grocery shop at wegmans, cook a curry butter chicken, go to hot yoga twice, and watched air at the alamo drafthouse for $5 with the tmobile discount. this might be our new favorite theater because it’s literally a 3 minute walk from our apartment and they serve drinks/food in the theater. being served a nice cold beer actually makes going to the movies much more enjoyable. 

our uber eats memberships (we were managing 6 different accounts LOL) have all come to an end, minus one. coincidentally this times up very well with our goal of cooking more. last week, i think we only got food delivery once; at one point not too long ago, we scheduled food to come every single day! i’ve been continuing to make the same recipes that i’ve learned from marion when i started to pick up cooking again - most of the dishes i’ve made at least twice now. 

books: finished listening to laziness does not exist. listened to part of the privileged poor and outlive. 

shows: finished unprisoned, skimming LIB s4, currently watching beef

lesson: we’re learning that having a wealthier lifestyle is actually detrimental to our health (or it’s that we don’t know how to do it right yet) and the simple things are just better for humans overall. i’m starting to feel too privileged to be able to say stuff like this, but being able to afford constant travel/plane tickets and all the delicious food has become too much. take for example lounge life and the lay-flat business class lifestyle. it’s getting us fatter and lazier lol. trevor noah joked that business class is boooring and economy is “real life” which is very true. even renting a tesla, it’s cooler but much more stressful to operate than a normal gas car. we felt more relaxed and had more fun simply going to watch a movie nearby rather than driving out to an expensive glamping campsite. i want to live by the line “live like a resident”, really because simplicity brings more joy, and builds a much bigger nest egg which brings more security. 

money: money has been coming and going with the frequent travels. we booked and paid for all of smoky mountains expenses for us and matt’s parents and will be reimbursed later. there’s a lot of potential for financial growth in the coming years. i am inspired by mywealthydiary’s savings and progress with her partner. my goal is to save/invest 5 figures every month between the two of us and have 6 figures of savings/investments at the end of this year. i only started a HYSA last december with wealthfront. i’ve been contributing to this more instead of my retirement and brokerage accounts. 

[junghelioseok]

heart-on.

↳ your one-night stand definitely isn’t relationship material, but maybe—just maybe—your manager’s son is.

◇ hoseok x reader ◇ smut | strangers to lovers!au ◇ 10.1k [1/1]

❛❛ my boss is always telling me how perfect her son would be for me and she promises he’s coming to the next holiday party and don’t worry he’s heard all about me too and ALSO there’s this dude i slept with once a couple of months ago and sometimes he still sends me dick pics when i ask him to at 3 in the morning cause seriously dude’s got a good dick ❜❜

notes: welcome to the first installment of the serendipity series! we’re starting with hoseok, because, well, have you met me? 🤣 be warned, however, that this isn’t anywhere near as edited as i’d like so i’ll probably give it another read/edit tomorrow but for now!!! here it is!!!

⇢ series masterlist. | inspired by this post.

warnings: dirty talk bc hoseok’s got a bit of a mouth on him, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, kids!), sexting. dick pics, obvi. brief mention of a dead pet goldfish :(

You’re refilling your mug when you hear it. Voices filter out from the kitchen, floating past the coffee station where you’re pouring yourself another drink and hanging in the open air of the hallway that leads back to the rest of the office. They’re familiar voices, too—voices that belong to the resident gossips of your workplace. Lottie’s pitchy, nasal tone melds with Hyejin’s higher one, their conversation interrupted every so often by an exaggerated exclamation or gasp from Sandra, the third and final member of their trio.

“Haven’t you heard? Carolyn’s divorce was finalized over the weekend, the poor thing.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine how she’s feeling. I mean, getting back into dating at her age? Goodness!”

“And now she’ll be all alone at the holiday party, too. How sad is that?”

“It’s tragic. Poor thing.”

Rolling your eyes, you grab a packet of sugar and tear it open, upending it over your mug and watching the crystalline granules fall into the dark liquid within. You know for a fact that Sandra and her husband can’t even stand to be in the same room for an extended period of time, considering how they’d spent most of last year’s holiday party talking to entirely different groups of people. You’d sat two tables away from them during dinner, and they hadn’t even made eye contact once. And as for Lottie and Hyejin, well, you’re certain that their relationships aren’t much better. All three of them are miserable people as far as you’re concerned, and you make a mental note to check in on Carolyn—a sweet woman in her thirties who always keeps chocolate bars in her purse—on your way back to your desk.

“Sheesh. Vultures, the lot of them. Don’t you think?”

You whirl at the sound of your manager’s voice. Kyunghee Jung is a dark-haired woman in her late fifties, and she laughs when she sees your startled expression, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Easy! You’ll spill your coffee if you’re not careful.”

“I’ll probably have a heart attack first,” you reply, pressing a hand to your chest. “What was your job before this? Some kind of intelligence operative? Are you a super spy?”

Kyunghee laughs again and joins you at the counter. “Nothing even remotely as exciting as that,” she answers, plopping her mug down beside yours. It’s decorated with what looks like every color of the rainbow, a massive smiling sunflower taking up the majority of the surface, and the only remnant of the ceramic’s original color is on the very edge of the handle where there’s a lopsided little patch of white. The piece is clearly handmade, and a stark contrast to the simple mint green cup that houses your coffee. Looking at it, it’s impossible not to smile.

“I love that,” you remark, inclining your head at her mug. “Was it a present from one of your kids?”

“Hoseok,” she confirms, running a fingertip along the imperfect handle fondly. “I’ve told you about him before—he’s right around your age.”

You chuckle. “Right, I remember. That’s why he’s the perfect match for me, right?”

“Come now, there’s more to it than that,” Kyunghee defends, waving a hand. “But yes, to answer your question. He gave it to me as a birthday present when he was eight.”

“Well, you never told me he was an artist,” you tease. “Does he have an Etsy? Can I buy one of these off him? Does he do custom orders, maybe?”

Normally, your manager is more than happy to play along with your jokes, but today Kyunghee fixes you with an uncharacteristically serious look. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?” she asks. “He’s coming to the holiday party, after all. I figured you could finally meet.”

You blink. Kyunghee has been making offhand remarks about how well you would get on with her son, Hoseok, for over a year now, but you’ve never even come close to broaching the topic of meeting him. You don’t even know anything about the man beyond the fact that his name is Hoseok and that he works somewhere downtown. He also favors tall socks and yellow suspenders if the framed photograph on Kyunghee’s desk is any indication—or at least, he certainly did when he was still in diapers. Whether he still does, is anyone’s guess.

“Wow, I had no idea he was even interested in coming,” you manage when you’ve recovered from your surprise. “Did you bribe him?”

If Kyunghee notices that your voice is a few pitches higher than usual, she doesn’t remark on it. “Oh, you know. I just told him that this would be his last chance to score free booze on the company’s dime.” She laughs. “Three more months and it’s going to be all beaches and sunshine for me. I might even become a cruise person in my retirement.”

You gasp and slap a hand to your heart. “Kyunghee! Think of the environmental impact!”

“I said I might!” she retorts immediately. “Sheesh. Even in my old age, it’s hard to conveniently forget how shitty and unsustainable those damn boats are.”

You pick up your mug and raise it in a salute. “Well, the oceans thank you.”

“My husband doesn’t,” she answers with a sigh. “He’s been dying to book one of those trips that stop all along the Mediterrannean coastline, and I can’t exactly blame him.”

“That is tempting,” you admit. “You’ll have to send photos, if you do end up going.”

“You’ll be sick of me and my photos before the first day is even up,” she promises. Then she pauses, her eyes darting toward the kitchen where silence has fallen in the last few minutes. “Speaking of being sick—you think the vultures are still hovering around in there? I haven’t had lunch yet, and I need the microwave.”

Obligingly, you edge a little closer to the kitchen doorway and poke your head around the frame, scanning for Lottie and her sidekicks. “Coast is clear. Enjoy your lunch, Kyunghee.”

She nods and raises her mug at you, returning your salute. “I always do.”

///

As soon as the work day ends, you fall into your usual routine. Your commute home is easily walkable on nicer days, and though the winter weather is brisker than you’d like, you decide to walk for the sake of stopping at the convenience store on the corner of the block.

Once you arrive back at your apartment, you change into your comfiest sweats and a loose tee. You turn on some music while you throw together some dinner, and settle onto the couch half an hour later with a full plate and Netflix. Television is a welcome distraction from the events of the workday, and you manage to get through three full episodes of your current show before your pesky brain decides to revisit the events of today, replaying the conversations that you’d both had and overheard.

There’s no denying that you’ve been single for quite some time now, and for the most part, it’s been by choice. Ever since graduating from university, you’ve chosen to focus more on your career, and it’s paid off both in terms of the important position you hold in your company and your above average salary. And yet, you can’t help but think back to the gossip you’d overheard earlier—about the supposed tragedy of being single and attending the upcoming holiday party alone. Your mind wanders to Kyunghee’s son, Hoseok, and how he’ll be in attendance this year. You wonder what he’s like, and whether he really is perfect for you, as Kyunghee seems to be so fond of mentioning.

And then your mind goes to Jay.

You met Jay two months ago, on a well-deserved night out after a hellish workweek. The bar was crowded, and the music coming from the neon dancefloor in the back was just loud enough to drown out your inhibitions. That, combined with the alcohol swimming through your system, made you bold. You sashayed your way across the dancefloor, dodging inebriated bodies and swaying limbs as you fixed your attention on the head of pale lavender hair and deliciously broad shoulders that awaits you just behind the bar counter. The bartender is nothing short of gorgeous, and you’ve thrown all caution to the wind. Sure, several other women are eyeing him like he’s their next meal—several men are, too—but you need another drink. And while he prepares it, you plan to flirt.

A lot.

The bar counter is sticky with spilled liquor, but you don’t pay that any mind as you lean across it, the wood digging into the narrow strip of exposed skin left by your cropped top. “Hi!” you call, and the bartender looks up from where he’s just finished pouring a round of shots for a group of raucous young men.

“Hi yourself,” he says, his pillowy lips stretching into an easy smile. “What can I get you?”

You pretend not to notice the way his eyes flicker down to the dip of your cleavage and instead put on the sultriest smile you are capable of mustering. “Vodka soda,” you tell him, injecting a bit of purr into your voice. “A bit of lemon too, if you have it.”

“Trust me, I have it,” he assures, his smile growing as he reaches for a clean glass and a clear bottle. “Name’s Jin, by the way. I’m here all night, if you need anything e—”

A loud clatter and the sound of breaking glass interrupts the rest of his sentence, and all eyes at the bar go to the source of the disturbance. Conversations stutter to a halt, and even the thumping bass of the music seems to dull. Jin darts to the other end of the bar, where you can see that one of several barstools has fallen to the ground. There’s a man on the ground as well, surrounded by shattered glass and spilled dark liquor, and your eyes widen when you realize that you know him.

And arguably, a little too well.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. People are starting to lose interest in the spectacle, turning back to their own conversations and continuing on as if nothing had happened at all. The man is beginning to clamber to his feet, and a few people lend a helping hand as Jin begins barking out orders for everyone to step back so he can sweep up the broken glass. You seize upon the opportunity, latching on to the nearest arm and pulling them close so you can hide behind them. Vaguely, you’re aware of them sputtering in surprise, but you only have eyes for the man who had fallen off his stool, watching him carefully as he brushes himself off and tries to play it cool despite the sizable patch of whiskey soaking his white shirt.

“Hey, uh…” Your human shield is speaking. “Are you okay? You’re squeezing me pretty tight.”

That draws you out of your daze. Abashed, you loosen your grip on his arm and look up into his face, your throat going dry when you realize how handsome he is. His black hair is parted over his forehead, a stray strand falling into warm brown eyes set above a straight nose and an inviting mouth. There’s a freckle above his top lip, just shy of the center, and your inebriated brain wonders just what it would be like to kiss it.

“I, um—” You clear your throat and try again. “Sorry about that. I just didn’t want him to see me.”

Your newfound companion raises an eyebrow and glances over his shoulder at the drunk man, who is now being ushered out of the bar by his buddies. “You know that guy?”

You nod, cringing. “Yeah, his name’s Trent. I… may or may not have dated him for a few months last year.”

The man laughs out loud. “You dated a Trent?”

“What, like you’ve never made a questionable life choice?” you challenge. “Besides, you shouldn’t judge someone based on the sins of their parents. It’s not his fault they gave him a terrible name.”

“Sure, but it is on him for going along with it,” he replies with a shrug. “I would’ve changed my name as soon as I could if my parents had named me Trent. But hey, that’s just one man’s opinion.”

You laugh. “Okay then, Not-Trent.” Relinquishing your grip on his arm, you let your fingers graze his hand before pulling away entirely. “What do you say we continue this conversation over a drink?”

The man, whose name is decidedly not Trent, catches your fingers in his and gives them a gentle squeeze. “Happily.”

One drink turns into two, and then three. By the end of the hour, you are feeling pleasantly warm, the alcohol spreading through your veins like molasses and turning your surroundings into a hazy blur. The music has grown even louder, pounding against your eardrums, and you grab onto Not-Trent’s wrist as he sets his now-empty glass back down onto the counter.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” you ask, raising your voice to be heard over the thumping bassline. “I can’t even hear myself think.”

“The parking lot’s out back,” he suggests. “Why don’t we get some air?”

You nod and stand up on wobbly legs, cursing your decision to wear heels when you stumble into your companion. He steadies you with a gentle but firm hand, and you don’t miss the way his touch lingers on your lower back, his palm warm through the material of your blouse.

Together, the two of you pick your way through the throng of swaying bodies on the dancefloor. The bassline thuds in your ears, dark and hypnotic, and you can feel the reverberations thrumming across the slats of your ribs and echoing in the cavern of your chest like a second heartbeat.

It’s almost a relief, then, when you step out into the cool night air. Your ears continue to ring for a few seconds, but it soon fades and leaves behind only the muted hum of traffic from the street and the faint sound of music from inside. At your side, Not-Trent releases a long breath and leans against the brick wall of the building, and you turn to take in the steep slopes of his side profile as he tilts his head up toward the velvety night sky.

He’s handsome. Dressed in ripped jeans and black leather, he’s a sight to behold, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been craving a bit of intimacy for quite some time now. The alcohol swimming through your system makes you bolder than you normally would be, and you reach out to lay a hand on his arm. He turns toward you with a silent question glimmering in his irises, but you simply step closer, until you’re pinning him against the wall with your body and you’re breathing the same air.

“Hey,” you say, your voice an airy whisper. His eyes are near obsidian in the dimness of the parking lot, illuminated only by the orange glow of the streetlamps on either end, and your gaze flickers down to his mouth before roving to the freckle that sits upon his top lip. “Kiss me?”

Your companion’s eyes widen. His lips part, but no words come out, and you’re about to repeat your question when he finally finds his voice again.

“That’s really… that’s not a good idea.” Awkwardly, he clears his throat, but the hoarseness of his voice and the harsh bob of his Adam’s apple give away his true desires. “Look, you’ve been drinking. We both have, and—”

You cut him off, pushing up to your tiptoes and planting a messy kiss to the soft dip just beneath his bottom lip. “Don’t care,” you mumble against his skin. “I want you.”

Your companion laughs weakly. His hands find their way to your waist and pause there, as if he can’t decide whether to push you away or pull you closer. “You don’t even know me,” he murmurs.

“I don’t have to know you,” you reply. Your fingers drag down his chest, trailing along the delicate silver necklace that rests against the black of his shirt. From the chain hangs a round pendant, the surface engraved with the letter J. Slowly, you trace it with a fingertip, the metal shining even in the dim light, and satisfaction blooms in your heart when your companion’s throat bobs again. “I want you,” you breathe, soft but insistent. “Isn’t that enough?”

“I—” He clears his throat and tries again, and you wonder if he realizes that his hands have slid down to your hips, or that there’s a growing hardness against your lower stomach that’s becoming increasingly harder to ignore. “Look, I’m flattered—really, I am. And you’re… I mean, fuck, you’re gorgeous. But I don’t think we should do anything when you’re clearly not in the right frame of mind to be making this kind of decision, and—”

“And, nothing.” You wind your arms around his neck, pressing close and grinding subtly against the bulge in his pants. You smirk when he releases a low hiss from between his teeth, and hide it by laying a trail of kisses along the stretch of bare skin exposed by the dip of his collar. “Stop being such a gentleman,” you whisper. Your fingers trail down his chest, past the silver of his pendant and down to the faded denim of his jeans, teasing at the cool metal of his belt buckle. “I want this. But if you’re not interested, I can always go back in there and—”

The rest of your sentence dies in your throat. Your companion has tugged you flush against him in one smooth motion, and your gasp is cut off by the firm press of his mouth against yours. Immediately, you melt into the kiss, and a moan tears from your lips when he spins you around and pins you against the brick wall of the building.

“You’re a spoiled little thing, huh?” His breath fans hot against your cheeks, and you shiver when you meet his eyes and see the dark promise reflected there. “Used to getting what you want, huh, princess?”

Your breath hitches at the endearment—something your companion doesn’t miss. “Oh, you like that?” He chuckles hoarsely, and when he speaks again it’s in a rasp that sends heat straight to your core. “What else do you like, hmm? You want me to be rough with you, princess? Or should I be gentle and treat you like a queen?”

You reach up, raking your fingers through his hair and skimming across the soft strands of his undercut before finding purchase at his nape. “You talk too much,” you whisper.

And then you’re crushing your mouth back against his, whining when he immediately takes back control of the kiss. His grip slides downward, his fingertips digging into the skin just above the curve of your ass, and you squeak when he grabs the back of your thigh and hooks your leg around his waist.

“You feel that?” he rasps into your ear, nipping at the delicate shell and chortling when you keen. Your skirt has ridden up dangerously high on your spread thighs, and you let out a soft whimper when he grinds harshly against your center. The lace of your panties and the denim of his jeans are the last barricades between you, and you wonder, vaguely, whether your companion has a bit of an exhibitionist streak when he slides one of your sleeves down your shoulder and begins kissing a trail down to the swell of your cleavage. “You feel how hard you’ve gotten me?”

You lean down, kissing the soft spot where his jaw meets his ear before letting your teeth graze against his skin. “Why don’t you do something about it then?”

He hisses out a sharp breath, his hands tightening their hold on your hips. “You’ve got quite the mouth on you, huh? I can’t wait to make you eat your words.”

Any retort you may have had is interrupted by a sudden swell of music and the sound of a slamming door. Whirling to face the source of the noise, you immediately spot a familiar head of lavender hair atop broad shoulders encapsulated in the black uniform of the bar. Jin hasn’t noticed the two of you yet, his attention fixated on his cell phone screen, but he looks up when you let out a little squeak of surprise and shove your companion’s chest in an attempt to create some distance between you.

“Hey.” Jin raises a hand in greeting, a knowing smirk curling his lips. “This phone call shouldn’t be too long, so please. Don’t stop the party on my behalf.”

Heat floods to your cheeks. There isn’t much use protesting against his insinuation, considering the rather compromising position you’re in. Much to your relief, though, your companion simply huffs out a chuckle and waves Jin off. “Thanks, man, but we’ll get out of your hair.” Lowering his voice, he turns back to you. “Coming, princess?”

You nod. He offers you his hand, and you take it gratefully, adjusting your skirt so that it drapes properly over your hips and thighs again.

“Have a good night!” Jin calls after you, amusement lacing every word. You can’t work up the nerve to respond, and luckily, you don’t have to. Your companion leads you around the corner of the building, where several rows of cars are parked beneath an orange streetlamp. On this side, the exterior brick wall is painted with a mural, and you admire the colorful galaxies and nebulae swirling amidst silvery white stars and the word serendipity spray-painted in pale blue.

The last car in the row is parked just beneath the letter Y, and it’s here that your companion stops. The sleek black vehicle has an almost vintage feel to it, and you glance up when you hear the jingle of metal.

“I’m guessing this is yours?”

He nods, pulling a set of keys from the pocket of his leather jacket and inserting one into the lock. “Yeah. You like it?”

“It’s beautiful,” you tell him, tracing the edge of the passenger window “Makes my car look like a total piece of shit by comparison.”

Your companion chuckles, pulling open the driver’s side door, and you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the window as he presses a button to unlock the rest of the doors. Your hair’s a bit of a mess and your mascara has smudged beneath your right eye, and you hurriedly swipe at it as your companion turns his attention back to you.

“So,” he says. “Now what? I can give you a ride home, if you want.”

Deliberately, you let your gaze drop down to his crotch, where his bulge—albeit waning—is still visible. “Seriously? I thought you were going to… what was it again? Make me eat my words?”

And just like that, it’s as if a switch has flipped. His eyes darken to obsidian, his lips settling into a stern line, and you barely have time to draw in a breath before he’s caging you against the side of his car and molding his mouth to yours. Your lips part beneath the onslaught, and he wastes no time in dipping inside to explore, licking into you until you’re both breathless.

“Inside,” he breathes once you’ve broken apart, and you instantly obey. You wrench the door open and all but tumble into the backseat, and he isn’t far behind as he slots himself between your spread thighs. Your hands fly to his shoulders where you help him shuck off his leather jacket, tossing it carelessly to the front where it lands in a heap on the dashboard before focusing your attention on the hem of his black t-shirt. Your companion obliges you as you push it upward to expose his toned abdomen, grabbing it by the collar and pulling it off the rest of the way when your reach falls a little short in the cramped interior of the backseat.

“Your turn,” he whispers when you try to reach for his belt, his hands settling around your wrists. “It’s only fair, princess.”

Pouting, you let your hands fall limp in his grasp, and he chuckles as he leans down to pacify you with a kiss. Deft fingers find the hem of your blouse, pushing it up until you can twist out of the material. You throw it aside with no regard for where it lands on the ground, and lay back as your companion drinks you in, his dark gaze raking across the lacy black lingerie that decorates your curves and skims you like a second skin. “Fuck,” he breathes, his voice hoarse with a combination of amazement and disbelief. “You’re stunning.”

You smile, trailing a fingertip from the dip of his collarbone down to the silver necklace that sits prettily against his bare chest. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you tell him, tracing the letter engraved into his pendant. “Jay.”

Your companion—newly dubbed Jay—smiles back. “You’re something else, princess,” he murmurs, before leaning down to kiss you again. He explores your mouth thoroughly—languidly—before moving down to nip at your neck, and already, you can feel the beginnings of marks beginning to form, blossoming across your skin as irrefutable proof of your tryst.

It isn’t long before Jay frees you from your bra, watching with carnal fascination as your breasts spill out of the lacy material. You whine when he reaches out to cup one, his palm hot against your bare skin, and he smirks crookedly when a pinch to your nipple makes your back arch off the leather of the seat. “So pretty,” he rasps. “I can’t wait to see how you look stretched around my cock.”

“Stop waiting, then,” you tell him, trying again for his belt buckle. This time, he lets you fumble it open, leaning back to watch you work with hooded eyes and a lazy little smile. Emboldened, you push aside the denim of his jeans and free his cock from the confines of his underwear. He’s hard and hot and heavy in your palm, and your tongue darts out instinctively at the sight of the pearlescent precum beading the tip.

“Jay,” you murmur, thumbing across the head of his erection and smirking when he hisses in pleasure. “Fuck me.”

Jay seems to consider your demand, mischief flitting across his features before he manages to school his expression into something more neutral. “Where are your manners, princess?” he asks, pushing your hand away and giving himself a few long, slow strokes. “Say please, if you want it so bad.”

For a moment, you consider refusing. Jay seems to be the type of man who enjoys a good game, but between the state of his cock and the earlier interruption, you’re pretty sure he’s nearing his limit. And even if he isn’t, you are. And so, you shelve your pride for the time being, and trail a hand down the length of your bared body as you bat your lashes up at him. “Fuck me, Jay,” you repeat. “Please. Want your cock so bad.”

His answering smile is equal parts amusement and satisfaction, and altogether sinful. “That’s my girl,” he rasps, before shoving your panties aside. Lining the head of his cock up, he enters you in one smooth thrust, and you moan as your walls stretch to accommodate his girth. You’re more than wet enough to take him in his entirety, your eyes fluttering shut when he bottoms out, and he groans hoarsely as he takes a second to relish the feeling of your walls gripping him so tightly.

“Fuck. You’re so wet, princess.” Jay dips a thumb into your slick, spreading it across your clit and rubbing a few experimental circles around the sensitive nub. He groans when you clench around him, his hips stuttering, and you squeeze around him again just to hear him grit out another curse. “Shit. I’m not going to last long at this rate.”

“Don’t care,” you murmur, rocking against him and sighing when the motion sends him a little deeper into your core. “Just fuck me, Jay. Please.”

Jay leans in, a dark lock of hair falling across his forehead as he plants an indulgent kiss on your waiting mouth. “Anything for you, princess,” he breathes. Slowly, he pulls back until only the tip of his cock remains inside you. Then he’s slamming forward, and you can’t even find it in yourself to care about the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin or the way the car rocks. Jay’s thumbing across your clit in tight circles that he times perfectly with the rock of his hips, and you wonder whether the rapidly building pleasure in your belly is due to your dry spell or if he’s just that good. You can feel every inch of him as he fills you up repeatedly, his brows furrowed in concentration and his dark hair flopping as he drives deeper in search of the spot that will have you seeing stars.

You know he’s found it when the pleasure in your belly spikes, your back arching off the backseat. Your skin is sticky against the dark leather and you’re certain the sweat gathering at your temples has destroyed the last of your makeup, but Jay alleviates your concerns with a particularly well-timed thrust and a harsh nip to the soft spot at your clavicle. You keen out something unintelligible, and his lips stretch into a smirk against your skin.

“That’s it,” he encourages. “Cum for me, princess.”

That’s all it takes for the mounting pressure to snap. Your body collapses into a searing orgasm, the pleasure flaring out like a supernova and spreading through your veins like wildfire. “F-fuck, Jay—” you gasp, your fingers scrabbling at his back for purchase and no doubt leaving scratches in their wake. “Fuck, you feel so—”

The remainder of your words trail off into garbled nonsense, and Jay huffs out a strained chuckle as he begins chasing after his own orgasm, rutting against you in a way that both prolongs your pleasure and sustains his own. “Shit,” he groans, his eyes fluttering shut. “Fuck, that’s it. Look at you—taking my cock so well. So pretty and perfect and—”

Whatever he was going to say dissolves into a groan as he gives a few more erratic thrusts before his release overwhelms him. Creamy warmth floods through you, and you rub his back tiredly as his head drops onto your shoulder, his breath flaring hot against your skin as he rides out his orgasm.

It takes several long seconds for the pleasure to recede. Your legs are still shaky when Jay pulls away, straightening up and tucking himself back into his jeans. There’s an empty ache in your core now that you are no longer stuffed full of his cock, and already, you are missing the feeling. Still, you push that aside as you sit up, adjusting your panties and wincing at the wetness that soaks the material and sticks to your skin.

“So,” Jay says after a moment’s silence, and you glance over at him when he huffs out a short chuckle. “That was fun.”

“Not bad at all,” you agree weakly, an irrepressible smile tugging at your lips.

Jay grins. It’s a bright, infectious grin—and it’s one that you’ve already grown rather fond of in the short period of time you’ve known him. It’s a grin that showcases his perfect teeth and crinkles his eyes into crescents, and one that all but forces you to grin back.

“Here, give me your phone,” he says, and you watch as he punches in his number once you hand it over. “Just in case you ever wanna do this again,” he tells you, handing it back. “Don’t be a stranger, princess.”

You glance down at his contact information, saved under the moniker you’d given him and affixed with a short string of emojis. “I won’t,” you tell him, chuckling. “In fact, I just might take you up on the offer.”

-

The screen of your laptop has long since gone dark, and you stretch your arms overhead before waking it again. Rolling your shoulders, you navigate back to the main Netflix menu, hovering over the resume button and watching the trailer loop in the background.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about Jay often. You’ve texted each other quite often since that night in his car—usually when you’re bored and alone and have had a few too many glasses of wine in the evenings. You’ve found yourself tapping on his name instinctively during those odd, ambiguous hours—when late night and early morning meld together and you’re aching for a bit of relief.

And as if he knows you’re thinking about him, your phone buzzes against the coffee table, the screen lighting up with a familiar name.

[11:22pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinkin about u, pretty girl 😘

It’s followed by an image, and your heart rate picks up, thudding loudly against your ribs as you open it.

Fuck.

Your memories of Jay’s face—made all the more hazy by the alcohol and the amount of time elapsed since your first and only meeting—truly don’t do him justice. Though the photograph cuts off just above his nose, you can still admire the sharp angle of his jaw and the fullness of his puckered lips. His skin is golden against the white of his t-shirt, and you lick your lips before thumbing across your screen to respond.

[11:23pm] You: yeah? what else are you thinking about, hmm?

His response is instantaneous.

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinking about that pretty little pussy of yours

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: how good it looked in that pic u sent me tuesday 👅

You barely even notice the way your hand begins trailing down your body, pushing aside the elastic waistband of your sweats. It’s as if you’re on autopilot, as your fingers find their way to the damp spot growing on your panties.

Yeah? you write back with your free hand, already teasing at your clothed folds with the other. Tell me more.

///

It’s an uncharacteristically warm Friday morning when you find yourself in the elevator with Jimin, a good friend of yours who works on one of the lower levels of your office building. “Morning,” he says as he steps in, a large iced coffee in hand despite the fact that it’s still very much the middle of winter. Then he squints, leaning a little closer. “Oh my god. You got laid!”

“Oh my god, not so loud!” you hiss, whacking him on the shoulder and jabbing the button to close the elevator doors. “And no, not exactly. I’ve just been texting Jay.”

“Texting, sure.” Jimin mimes air quotes around the word and rolls his eyes. “You’re sexting him, and we all know it. How many pictures of his dick do you have saved on your phone now?”

“Oh my—” You sigh, trailing off. “Can we not talk about this right now?”

“Right, of course.” Jimin takes a sip of his coffee and pretends to check his watch. “When would you like to talk about it then? Do you need to check your calendar? Can I book an appointment for later this afternoon?”

You stick your tongue out at him. “Shut up.”

Jimin just grins, his lips puckered around his straw. “So, how’s Jay? Have you asked for his real name yet?”

You shrug. “What’s the point? It’s not like we’re friends or anything. We’ve literally only met the one time.”

“Yeah, but that’s just because you’re a coward,” Jimin points out. “What’s stopping you from meeting up with him again? You have his number. You have at least one photo of his dick. Ask him out already!”

“It’s not that easy, though,” you sigh. The elevator doors open to let a few more people in, and you move to the side and lower your voice so that only Jimin can hear. “Jay—he’s not exactly boyfriend material. I mean, we fucked in his car the first night we met.”

“So?” Jimin frowns and takes another sip of his iced coffee. “You talk about things besides sex, don’t you? You definitely told him about your goldfish dying, at least. I mean, you told him before you even told me!”

“Yes I did, and he was appropriately sympathetic about Mustache’s passing, unlike some people,” you sniff. “Get over it already, won’t you?”

“Never,” Jimin replies, ignoring your pointed jab. “I’m sure you only told him because you knew you could get a sympathy sext out of it. How many dick pics did you get out of that night, anyway?”

“You’re gross,” you tell him, punching him in the arm. “Not to mention that’s exactly why Jay’s not boyfriend material. He’s perfectly happy with—whatever it is we’re doing. I can’t just ruin that by asking him to get dinner.” You frown, gnawing on your bottom lip. “I don’t want to make this into something that it’s not.”

Jimin hesitates. “Fine, okay. I guess I can understand that.”

“Yeah.”

There’s a pause, as the elevator makes a few more stops. You watch the numbers crawl higher, and know that you’ll soon have to part ways with your friend..

“Hey.” You nudge Jimin with your shoulder, just as the elevator doors close and you begin the ascent to his floor. “Wanna know something interesting?”

Jimin looks up from his phone, where he’s scrolling through Twitter. “Always.”

“My boss’ son is coming to the party tomorrow.”

Jimin’s eyebrows disappear into his ashy blond hair at your revelation. “Kyunghee’s son? Hoseok, or whatever?”

You chuckle. “The one and only. She’s found about a million ways to bring him up in conversation this past week. She thinks we’re a match made in heaven.”

“Wow.” Jimin releases a long breath. “I wonder what he’s like, then.”

You shrug, adjusting the strap of your work tote over your shoulder. “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

///

The morning of the party, you wake up to an empty refrigerator. Half stale cereal and the last dregs of milk from the carton become your breakfast, and you munch on that as you mull over the contents of your closet. You’re still in your pajamas, but you pull out your comfiest jeans and a sweater to change into after you finish eating. Then you turn to your collection of dresses, rifling through them and mentally debating the merits of each material and color.

You could go in one of two directions tonight. On the one hand, this is still a work party, and as such your attire should probably maintain a certain level of decorum. But on the other, you’re meeting Hoseok Jung for the first time tonight. You aren’t necessarily looking to start anything with the man, of course, but you do want to look good. With that in mind, you eventually settle on a deep red number that you pull out of the very back of your closet, made of a silky material that skims your curves and accentuates your best assets. Laying it on the bed, you begin your hunt for a pair of matching shoes. Twenty minutes of searching and another five of agonizing later, you step into the bathroom, intent on showering and getting on with the rest of your day.

Upon exiting the bathroom, you decide that tackling the state of your refrigerator takes top priority over your other weekend errands. Sitting down at the dining table, you take stock of what you have in your pantry, planning out your meals for the upcoming week and making a list of what you need to purchase in order to make them a reality. It’s just after one in the afternoon when you exit your apartment with a completed grocery list and your purse stuffed full of reusable canvas bags. The store is a short walk from where you live, and you decide to put in your earbuds as your feet navigate the familiar route. The temperature is surprisingly mild for winter, and the sun shines bright from its perch in the cloudless blue sky. It’s perfect weather for a walk, and the fresh air clears your mind and eases your heart.

At the grocery store, you forego the stack of baskets and instead grab a shopping cart. Weaving your way up and down the aisles, you check items off the list on your phone one by one. Eventually, you find yourself in the cereal section, grabbing a box of granola before turning to where your favorite cereal normally sits. It isn’t there, and you turn in a full circle, confused, until your gaze finally lands on the familiar box on the top shelf.

Great.

Sighing, you push up to your tiptoes, stretching your arm as far as it can reach. Your fingertips graze the shelf, but you can’t quite get a grip on the box itself. Glancing down, you scan the bottommost shelf and wonder if you can step on it to give yourself a boost.

“Need a hand?”

The voice comes from behind you, and a vague sense of familiarity sparks in your brain. Slowly, you turn around, and your entire body freezes when your gaze slides up to the speaker’s face.

“Jay.” The syllable escapes you in a near whisper. “H-hi.”

“Hey.”

Jay stands before you, looking like sin incarnate in a faded denim jacket, black sweatpants slung low on his hips, and not much else. At his throat, his silver necklace sparkles, the silver J pendant glinting beneath the fluorescent lights of the store, and you’re suddenly beyond grateful that you decided to put on a decent sweater before leaving.

“Here,” he says, stepping forward until he’s close enough that you can smell his cologne—sandalwood tinged with sweet citrus. “Let me help you with that.”

The sudden proximity has your breath hitching in your throat. Your heart thuds erratically against your ribs as he reaches around you, the denim flaps of his jacket gaping in a way that exposes even more of his bare chest. By the time he pulls back with your cereal box in hand, you feel almost faint, belatedly realizing that you’d been holding your breath.

“You wanted this, right?” Jay asks, and you aren’t sure if you’re imagining the innuendo underlying his words or the teasing inflection of the syllables.

“Y-yeah, that’s the one,” you manage, fighting to quell the uneven tempo of your heartbeat as you accept the box. “Thanks.”

“Happy to help,” he replies. Then he leans in, close enough that you can feel his warm breath fanning your cheek as he murmurs his next sentence into your ear. “Anything for you, princess. You know that.”

Heat floods across your cheeks. Your heart skips two full beats before taking off into a sprint, and it’s impossible to ignore the way your core begins to thrum, as if anticipating a repeat of that night you first met all those weeks ago. Almost instinctively, your eyes dart up to the ceiling where the security cameras are, and Jay follows the trajectory of your gaze with a low chuckle and a soft brush of your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“Sorry, princess. As much as I’d love to get my hands on you, I’m kind of on a time crunch today.”

You can’t stop the wave of disappointment that washes over you, even if you’re in the exact same boat. “Rain check, then?”

“Rain check,” he agrees. Slowly, you reach up to touch the engraved silver pendant resting against his chest, rubbing it between your fingertips before tracing the curve of the J, and he catches your wandering fingers between his and presses a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“You know how to reach me,” he murmurs with a mischievous wink. His gaze lingers even after he’s released your hand, and you clear your throat awkwardly before turning to deposit your cereal box into your shopping cart.

The two of you go your separate ways then, exchanging goodbyes. You finish the rest of your grocery shopping in a daze, idly going through the motions at checkout and letting muscle memory guide you back home. Your arms are aching by the time you step past the threshold of your apartment, and you heave your shopping bags up onto the kitchen counter with a relieved sigh before returning to the entryway to toe off your shoes. You throw together a sandwich as you unpack your groceries, taking a big bite as you walk back to your bedroom to look at the dress you’ve picked out. Pacing over to the closet, you double-check your shoe choice. Briefly, you debate whether or not to wear flats instead of heels.

There are still a few hours left before you have to start getting ready, so you take the last of your sandwich back to the kitchen and whip up a smoothie to go with it. You scroll through your phone as you eat, browsing through the latest news headlines and scrolling through your social media accounts. Just before six o’clock, as the sun starts setting beyond the horizon and casting long shadows across your living room, you start getting changed. You snap a photo in the mirror once you’re dressed, pulling up Jimin’s name in your phone and sending it to him.

[6:13pm] You: last chance to come tonight

Your phone buzzes with a response almost immediately.

[6:14pm] Jimin: nah. i’d hate to step on hoseok’s toes.

You laugh. Not so fast, you text back. We don’t even know anything about the guy yet. What if he’s boring? Or sexist?

[6:15pm] Jimin: if u think kyunghee raised a sexist you’re seriously deranged

[6:16pm] Jimin: now stop taking selfies and get your ass out the door! you’re gonna be late!!!!

///

Each year, the holiday party tends to be a little over the top, and this year is no exception. The company has bought out the entirety of a restaurant for the evening, and you glance around in amazement at the twinkling lights and lush evergreen boughs decorating the walls and strung up along the ceiling. An assortment of sparkling ornaments hangs from the massive tree in the far corner, interspersed between silver tinsel and more lights. Grabbing a champagne flute off a passing server’s tray, you head farther into the restaurant, skirting around tables draped in creamy linen and greeting your colleagues and friends.

“Is she alone?”

“Figures.”

The voices come from the direction of the open bar, and somehow, you just know that they’re talking about you. Lottie, Hyejin, and Sandra are clustered in the corner with glasses of wine in hand, casting glances around the restaurant and gossiping about anything and everything with a pulse. You’re sorely tempted to grab the nearest pitcher of water off a table and pour it over their heads, but you suppress the urge and instead head over with a saccharine smile. “So lovely to see you, {Name},” Lottie says as you approach.

“I love your dress,” Sandra adds. “Very slimming.”

“Thanks,” you reply, putting on your brightest, fakest smile. “Yours is great too. How are you and your husband enjoying the party so far?”

Sandra’s face sours, and you hide your smirk in your champagne flute. Maybe it’s petty to bring up her rocky relationship, but you’ve been subject to snide comments from Sandra and her friends for years now and it’s become increasingly hard for you to bite your tongue. A few tables away, you spot Sandra’s husband, Rodney, take an enormous gulp of his whiskey and wince as it burns down his throat.

“We’re all having a wonderful time, aren’t we, ladies?” Lottie cuts in when Sandra takes too long to answer. “Hyejin’s date is over there with Rodney, and my boyfriend is fetching himself a drink. You remember Dev, don’t you?”

You nod, even though it’s a lie. “Sure. Say hi to him for me.”

Lottie’s lips curve up into a smile, her head tilting to the side, and you’re suddenly reminded of a snake rearing its head back for the kill. “So, what about you? Have you brought someone tonight, or—?”

“Hi ladies!” Kyunghee materializes at your side, her lips painted a festive red shade to match her dress. She’s wearing the disingenuous smile that she reserves for the resident gossips of your office, and you try not to let your relief show on your face when Lottie’s attention refocuses on your manager.

“So good to see you, Kyunghee,” she simpers. “Have you been here long?”

“Not as long as you,” your manager replies, nodding at the near-empty wineglass in her hand. “I see we’re already making a dent in the wine supply, and you’re falling behind, {Name}. Why don’t we go remedy that, hmm?”

She doesn’t give you a chance to respond, grabbing your arm and leading you away. Kyunghee is surprisingly spry for a woman her age, and you follow after her with some difficulty as she marches through the throngs of conversing people, all the way to the line at the open bar.

“I’d like you to meet someone,” she says, gesturing at the man standing at the end of the line with his back to you. “{Name}, this is my son, Hoseok.”

The man turns around at the sound of his name, a warm, affable smile stretched across his face. “Hi, I’m H—” he begins, but he’s cut off by your sharp intake of breath. His eyes go wide, his smile fading as his mouth falls open, and you’re certain you’re wearing an even more dumbfounded expression. “It’s you,” he says, his voice hoarse.

“Wh-what… how…” You trail off, speechless. The words flounder and die in your throat as your brain struggles to process this development, and you practically feel the way the gears in your head churn to a stuttering halt.

Because this man standing before you, the one that Kyunghee has just introduced as her son, is none other than Jay. He looks completely and utterly devastating in a navy waistcoat and matching slacks, a green tie shaped like a Christmas tree knotted loosely around the white collar of his shirt. His dark hair is parted, his undercut exposed, and you can’t tear your gaze away from the loose strand that has fallen across his forehead.

“H-hi.”

Jay—Hoseok—swallows. “Hi.”

Kyunghee glances between the two of you, her brows furrowing. “I take it you two already know each other?”

Hoseok’s ears begin taking on a scarlet tinge, the color spreading to his cheeks as he struggles to find his vocabulary again. “I—yeah. Yeah, we’ve met.”

“Right. Do I even want to know how?” she asks dubiously, before shaking her head and huffing out a sigh. “No, forget I asked. I don’t want to know. I’ll just leave you two to… catch up.”

Waving goodbye, Kyunghee disappears back into the crowd of partygoers milling around. Hoseok turns back to you, sucking in a deep breath, and you fight the urge to stare down at your toes as his gaze roves across your face.

“I can’t believe this,” he says, breaking the silence that’s fallen between you at last. “My mom’s been talking about you for months, but I never imagined that it’d be you.”

“You’re telling me,” you reply, finally having recovered your voice. “Kyunghee brings you up all the time, but I never thought… I mean, we didn’t even know each other’s names, and now…” You shrug. “Here we both are.”

“It’s a pretty crazy coincidence, huh?”

“Definitely.”

A beat passes, and then two. You’re fully aware that you’re staring, but you don’t dare blink, afraid that he’ll disappear if you close your eyes. Of all the things that you thought might happen tonight, this particular meeting wasn’t even close to making the list. Never would you have thought that the man you only knew as Jay would turn out to be Kyunghee’s son. Never would you have connected Jay to the photographed little boy in yellow suspenders on Kyunghee’s desk, or realized that they were one and the same.

From behind you, someone loudly clears their throat. Another voice calls for you to get a move on, already, and both you and Hoseok belatedly realize that you are still standing in line for the open bar. Hoseok’s eyes go wide again, and you nearly tread on his toes when you both try to move forward. “After you,” he says with a chuckle, gesturing for you to go in front of him, and that’s enough to break the tension. You step ahead of him with a laugh, catching up to the line, and Hoseok doesn’t stray far as he follows your lead.

“So, what are you drinking?” he asks, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Vodka soda with a twist?”

“Actually, I think I’m going to stick with wine tonight,” you reply, peering at the bottles lined up on the counter. “What about you?”

“Hmm. Jack and coke, I think. Nothing else is really calling my name right now.”

Grabbing your drinks, the two of you begin searching for a place to sit. You spot Kyunghee at a table near the front, and she smiles knowingly and offers you a thumbs-up when she catches your eye. Eventually, you settle on a table near the Christmas tree, the lights glimmering off the glasses and reflecting off your knife as you pick it up to butter a slice of crusty bread from the basket in the center. Hoseok follows your lead, grabbing a piece for himself, and the two of you munch in silence for a few seconds before Hoseok breaks it.

“You know, my mom says you’re the perfect girl for me” he says with a dry little chuckle. “Think she’s right?”

“I don’t know,” you answer. “It’s funny, though—Kyunghee’s been telling me the same thing. She sings your praises all the time.”

Hoseok laughs and scratches the back of his neck. “Oh, jeez, that’s kind of embarrassing. I’m glad she’s saying good things, at least.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” you tell him, grinning. “She’s only shown us one photo album from your childhood.”

His face crumples. “Was it the Disneyland one?”

You nod, fighting back laughter, and watch as Hoseok groans and lets his forehead meet the linen-covered tabletop with a dull thunk.

“I don’t like rollercoasters,” he mumbles into the tablecloth, his voice muffled by the material. “They make me queasy.”

“Even now?” you ask, and he nods.

“Yep.”

The clinking of a fork against a wineglass—amplified and broadcast through an array of invisible speakers built into the restaurant’s walls—interrupts any further conversation. You twist in your seat to watch your company’s leadership give their opening remarks, listening as they congratulate everyone for a great year and wish you a happy holiday season. The servers begin going out with plates of food, and you thank them as they set yours down. Hoseok does the same before raising his glass in your direction, clearing his throat and offering you a crooked little smile.

“Here’s to second meetings.”

“Third, if you count the store earlier,” you correct, and he chuckles and nods in agreement before clinking his drink against yours.

You spend the entirety of dinner chatting with Hoseok, getting to know him beyond the few facts Kyunghee has mentioned and what little you’ve gleaned from texting him the last two months. He tells you all about his dance studio, Hope World, where he teaches both contemporary dance and the occasional Pilates class. You find out that in addition to rollercoasters, he also dislikes sour foods and raisins, but he loves mint chocolate and sweet and sour pork. He also has a very low tolerance for alcohol—something he tells you as he tilts the rest of his drink into his mouth. “Should I be worried?” you ask as he sets his glass back down, and he chuckles and shakes his head, sending the loose tendril of hair flopping across his forehead.

Dessert is served, and subsequently eaten. The music is turned up, and people slowly begin finding their way to the open space that serves as an impromptu dancefloor. Hoseok rises to his feet and extends a hand toward you, and you only hesitate for the briefest of seconds before accepting it. He leads you out amongst the other swaying couples, his hand finding its way to the curve of your waist, and you rest your hand on his shoulder as he begins guiding you in a slow, simple waltz.

“So?” Hoseok’s voice is a low murmur, soft and gentle against the shell of your ear. “What’s the verdict?”

You blink. “The verdict?”

Even without looking, you can tell that he’s smiling. You can hear it in the lilt of his voice, and imagine it in the curve of his lips. “About me,” he clarifies, carefully pulling back so you can spin in a circle beneath his outstretched arm. “About us. My mom will never let me hear the end of it if she turns out to be right, but I still wanna know. So what are you thinking?”

“Are you asking if I think we’re perfect for each other?” you ask, giggling. “I don’t know if I believe in all that, to be quite honest. Destiny and soulmates—I mean, doesn’t it seem a little too good to be true?”

Hoseok hums. “Maybe. But considering all that’s happened to us in the last couple of months, don’t you think there’s a chance that it's all more than simple coincidence?”

“Maybe,” you concede. “Still, I don’t know if I can give you a verdict just yet. We haven’t even gone on a date.”

“We did do things a little backwards,” Hoseok admits, tugging you close and winding his arm around your waist. “Let me make it up to you, then. Are you free tomorrow?”

“What if I am?” you challenge.

“Then, I’d like to take you out for breakfast,” he replies without missing a beat.

The prospect of a proper meal with Hoseok Jung does something funny to your insides. Still, something makes you hesitate, and you avert your gaze as you search for your next words. “I wasn’t expecting to end tonight with a date,” you admit slowly. “I honestly didn’t even think you were interested in… well, anything beyond sex, to be honest.”

Hoseok’s face creases into a frown, and you look up again when he murmurs your name. “I understand why you would think that,” he says. “Really, I do. But honestly? I had every intention of texting you and asking you out properly. I was going to play it cool and wait a few days, which was stupid in retrospect. And then you texted me first.”

“I texted y—” You trail off. “Oh, god.”

“It seemed like you’d been drinking,” Hoseok says with a shrug, and you press a finger to his lips before he can say anything more. You remember the night in question, and you remember the bottle of wine you’d consumed. And you definitely remember the photographs you’d sent of yourself, and the ones Hoseok had been kind enough to send in return.

“Wait, so you were going to ask me out? And then I… I sexted you?”

Hoseok nods, and you groan and bury your face into his chest.

“I can’t believe this,” you mutter, and you feel laughter rumble through his chest before a hand comes up to stroke along your back.

“Believe me, I’m not complaining,” he assures you. “But I’d still really like to take you out, so what do you say?”

His gaze doesn’t leave yours for a second as he awaits your answer, and your heart skips a beat when you look up to see the earnestness in his eyes and the hesitant smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Breakfast sounds wonderful,” you whisper, and the smile that blossoms on your companion’s face is nothing short of radiant.

“Good,” he says. “Great. Breakfast tomorrow, then. Now, can I kiss you?”

You’re already pushing up to your tiptoes, your fingers fisting in the soft hair at his nape. “God, yes.”

///

“Hey, you made it!”

You beam. “Hi.”

You and Hoseok are about to commence your first date, having just sat down at a cozy little café for breakfast. Hoseok has pulled your chair out in true gentlemanly fashion, and you can’t help but smile over your menu at the few lingering snowflakes that have yet to melt into his dark hair.

“So, here we are,” you remark. “Our fourth meeting.”

Hoseok’s lips stretch into his signature grin, breathtakingly bright and infectious. “And hopefully many more.”

You grin at him. “Yeah? Too bad this is breakfast, because I’d drink to that.”

He leans forward, his grin widening. “Next time,” he says as his hand finds its way around yours, his fingers slotting comfortably into the spaces between your own. “We can do dinner, maybe. Or I can cook for you. But for now, I’m just happy that we’re finally doing this.”

You give his hand a soft squeeze. “Me too.”

“Just promise me one thing?”

The sudden seriousness of his tone has your brow furrowing in concern. “Sure, of course,” you reassure. “What is it?”

He winces. “Please don’t tell my mom about all the dick pics.”

[btssaysstudy]

Cheer || jjk.

Pairing: Jungkook x reader Genre: fluff, cheerleader!yn x athlete!jk (requested by anon) Warning(s): minor swearing, alcohol, drinking games mentioned, college after game parties, reader is a cheer athlete, jungkook plays rugby, stress from expectations WC: ~9.9k (this is the longest I've ever written I hope it doesn't flop!!) Summary: You felt that your cheer team was under-appreciated by certain people — specifically the rugby team that your cheer team supports during their matches. How is it that their star player, Jeon Jungkook, manages to find his way into your life despite having a bad impression of the rugby players? Update (6/8): Made an edit

You always loved being in a team. That would explain why you were where you were. Standing on the mat in the indoor gym with your cheer team on a Friday night. Cheer was beyond exhausting, but you still loved doing it, especially with the team that you got in college. Your coach - a perfectionist - always drilled you guys over the minute details. That would also explain why you were still practicing for something so ‘trivial’ - your opinion, not your coach’s.

Your team was practicing the routine for the rugby team’s qualifying match on Monday. It was a simple routine - as always. Your team didn’t do championship level routines during such events, you were all just there as moral support and being the hype people for the team. All you had to do was cheer with your pom poms, throw in a couple of stunts and the crowd would go wild.

But every event was a chance to get better, to get closer to perfect, according to your coach. And you did not disagree. You just never looked forward to cheering for the rugby team even after all the events. Despite your team always cheering for the football club, you could say you disliked most of them. It always felt as though they didn’t appreciate the moral support and took you guys for granted.

“Might want to look happy, yn.” You heard a playful remark from behind. Jimin, your most trusted base.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Just don’t drop me.”

There was no way you could pull off your stunts if you didn’t have trust in your teammates. And you could say you trusted Jimin with your life - literally. Accidents and mistakes were bound to happen but there was no doubt that you’d be down to try for anything if Jimin was your base.

Not only was Jimin a trustworthy base, but he was also an amazing stunter. His physique was perfect to be an in between, he could pull off both roles. That almost guaranteed him a spot on the mat every time. He was extremely hardworking as well and you’ll always be proud of your best friend making mat. Of course, you wanted to make mat just as badly as the next person.

Last season, you did not make mat and it crushed you. Jimin was there to get you out of your rut and encouraged you to bounce back stronger. Thanks to him, you managed to pick yourself up and train harder for the upcoming nationals. You had never been more determined to make mat.

“Point your toes, I want my flyers looking really perfect.” Your coach yelled over the music. Your coach was a beast, but an effective one, nonetheless. Your team won nationals last season and ready to bag this season as well.

“Alright, that’s all for today. Clean the place up and you guys can go home. Thanks everybody!” Your coach clapped their hands and the team followed suit as everyone got up from the mat and started tidying the place.

“Need a lift?”

“Yes please, you’re the best!” You pulled Jimin in for a tight hug, “Okay, you do this then!” Jimin handed you the empty bottles that he picked up from the ground as he headed off the change first.

You grumbled but took his place in defeat.

—

Big smiles were plastered on your faces as you congratulated the winning team - your college. You best friend nudged you while you waved the team goodbye as they passed by. “Coming to the after party?”

“Wouldn’t miss the free drinks and snacks.”

Jimin snorted, “Obviously.”

Though you did say that it felt like the cheer team was under appreciated, you were always invited to the after parties. Most of you went, mainly for the free drinks and snacks.

You flashed two thumbs up with Jimin as Yoongi passed by. A small smile on his face as he slightly bowed his heads in your direction, acknowledging your cheers.

Through all the after parties, you have been acquainted with one of their star players - Min Yoongi. He was one of the few who hung out in the kitchen to avoid all the party games and the crowd in the general. He disliked the unnecessary glamour and attention that came along with joining the rugby club. You admired his passion for rugby and along with Jimin, the three of you became the trio who hid away from the crowd during the parties.

After the debrief with our coach, your team dispersed to your own places to freshen up for the after party. It was a Friday night, and a good night of drinking was warranted after a tiring week.

You were all lucky your coach was not strict regarding such parties, as long as everyone turned up ready for the following practice.

“Glad to see faces I actually like.” Yoongi commented, handing you two drinks he had already prepared. “You make it sound like you hate everyone on your team.”

“I would say a good majority. I’m actually jealous that your cheer team is so close knit.”

Jimin nudged you after you downed your shot, “Without trust, our stunts won’t fly.”

You nodded your head in agreement, “Probably should get my team to watch your practices to learn a thing about team spirit.” Yoongi scoffed, mostly to himself, knowing that realistically, it would never happen.

The three of you turned your attention to the living room, watching Yoongi’s teammates either play beer pong or trying to find their fling for the night.

“They’re skilled, no doubt. But most of them are here for the popularity. It’s rare to find someone who genuinely likes football too.” Yoongi ranted as you poured himself another shot.

“Is there not a single soul?” Jimin asked, feeling a tinge of pity for his friend who was not experiencing the same level of love for his team as Jimin did for the cheer team.

Yoongi’s eyes scanned across the room, slowly shaking his head before his eyes landed on someone. “Actually, there is— Jungkook!” He raised his hand, shouting over the loud music as he tried to get someone’s attention.

You turned your head to see Jungkook approaching your group. “Jungkook? Really?” You questioned Yoongi. Jungkook was one of the star players as well. It was impossible not to know Jungkook. You could walk down any corridor in campus, and you would hear someone mention his name at least once.

“Hey,” Jungkook greeted Yoongi before his eyes shifted to yours and Jimin’s. “What’s going on?”

Yoongi shrugged his shoulders, “Just wanted to introduce you to some of the members from cheer.”

“From cheer, huh?” The corner of his lips tugged upwards as his eyes went back to you.

“I figured you won’t recognise us, even though we’ve been at your parties since, well… Basically here every party.” You didn’t mean to sound so harsh, but it just came out from you. You heard Jimin chuckle from beside you as he draped his arms over you.

“Sorry bud, yn here doesn’t have a good impression of you guys.”

“It’s not like you have a better one.” You bit back at Jimin who just stuck out his tongue at you. “That is true,” He pulled away as he took a drink, “We were actually just bitching about you guys with Yoongi.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened in bewilderment, yet he felt amused enough to stay and find out more. “Is that so, Yoongi?”

His teammate nodded his head nonchalantly, “Just sharing the truth. About how most of them are here to be popular. I called you because I know you’re one of the few who actually joined for rugby.”

Jungkook huffed out an amused hum, “Interesting. What are your names again?”

“Yn and Jimin.” Jimin instantly replied, knowing you were probably going to reply with a snarky comment. “Part of the cheer team, like Yoongi said. She’s mainly a flyer and I’m a base and tumbler.”

You watched as his eyes furrowed in confusion, “S-Sorry I don’t know cheer terms.”

“Not surprised.” You let the words slip as you took a sip from your cup. Jungkook’s eyes looked at you, a hint of challenge and interest on his expression.

“If you have something against me, let’s hear it.”

“Don’t take it personally, Jungkook.” You reached out to give a light pat on his right chest. “I had a bad impression on Yoongi as well.”

With that, Yoongi sighed, nodding his head in the back. “It’s a miracle she likes me now.”

“Well, why don’t you give me a chance to change that impression then?” The left corner of his lip rose a playful look on his face as he challenged you.

It could be the alcohol or could be the loud music that made you disoriented. Nonetheless, you reached out your hand for a handshake, “You’ve got one chance.”

Jimin and Yoongi left the kitchen to enjoy their own time together. You had an inkling that something was stirring between them, but you decided to let them be as you were left alone with Jungkook in the kitchen.

“So, yn,” Jungkook shifted in the high stool, leaning on his right elbow, his attention focused on you. “Care to explain why you seem to hate my team so badly?”

“Buckle your seatbelts, Jeon.” You teased as you reached out for your drink. You watched his attention eyes fixated on yours as he waited for your answer. “I dislike your team because it feels we don’t get the appreciation I feel we rightfully deserve. We’re always there for your plays, even for your friendlies. The support just feels one sided and to me it sucks when we put in a lot for our routines as well.”

You watched him slowly nod his head in understanding, his body leaning backwards as he internalised your words. “I have to admit. I never really paused to think about your cheer team. I mean your outfits and pom poms are cute and all— “

Pointing your finger at him, you interrupted, “Exactly, we’re not just cute outfits and pom poms. We only use the cheesy pom poms for your matches to make the crowd all hyped up. Do you even know we have our own competition as well?”

Jungkook shrugged his shoulders, “Of course I do. Just never watched one.”

You let out a short, dry laugh, “It’s okay. Can’t say I’m surprised.”

Jungkook frowned, noting the dejected tone laced in your laugh and words as you tried to dismiss it. As an athlete himself, he knew how dejecting it must feel that support was one sided or lacking.

“Hey,” He placed the cup on the counter, “Why don’t you educate me? I’d like to know more.”

You smiled, “You’re pretty good at changing your first impression. You’re working really hard.”

He laughed, shaking his head, “No no, I mean it. It’s not just about changing your opinion of me. Tell me about cheer.”

You paused momentarily, recognising the sincerity in his voice as his gaze stayed on you. You knew he was serious about wanting to know more. It was as though the wall you placed between the two seemed to falter, a very minuscule crack forming on the wall.

“Jungkook!” A random college student hollered for his attention, “Come play beer pong with us!” You watched in amusement as you read their body language. They were clearly flirting with Jungkook and calling for his attention.

“Duty calls?”

Jungkook shook his head, “I’ll pass!”

“We can save this talk for another time, you can go— “

“Just to clear things up,” Jungkook turned back to you, “I’m not a fuckboy.”

You choked on air from his sudden defence statement, “I-I didn’t s-say you were— “

“Didn’t have to,” He said with a light smile on his face, “But I expected it too. Comes with the popularity I guess.” “So, you don’t…?” You trailed off and he shook his head, as if he was completely appalled by the sheer thought of being a fuckboy. “No, no. I don’t see the point in flings. Like Yoongi said, I’m here for rugby. Not to find dates.”

It felt as if another crack in the wall was formed after learning that fact. Like how Yoongi managed to break down the wall between you and him a few games ago.

Maybe not all jocks were bad.

“Anyway,” Jungkook pulled you back from your thoughts, “Educate me.”

You began sharing how was practice like, the different roles people were and how strict your coach was. You explained how you were always at the gym on the days you didn’t have training. You always got passionate when you talked about cheer and Jungkook experienced it first-hand. He watched how your face immediately lit up when he asked you to share about the sport. He was sure that even a person with zero interest with cheer would be completely drawn to hear you share about it with how enthusiastic you were.

“We currently have training three times a week since nationals are coming. We practice from late afternoon to almost midnight sometimes.” You paused, a sheepish grin creeping on your face as you realised you had been rambling on about your sport. “I-I’m sorry, I must’ve bored you to death.”

“No, no!” He immediately shook his head, hands out in front shaking as well in protest, “I wasn’t bored. I was really interested. I can tell how much you love cheer though.”

“Y-Yea I really do. Always good to find something to distract you especially during college.”

He nodded his head, “Can’t argue with that.” He raised his plastic cup in his hand, “Cheers to distractions.”

“Cheers,” You laughed, raising your cup towards his.

-

You could say you clicked well with Jungkook that night. In fact, you guys shared a lot about each other’s sport that you didn’t exchange numbers or any form of communication afterwards. It didn’t bug you so much since you figured it was a one-off conversation with him.

To be frank, you almost forgot that you talked with Jungkook that party. Jimin was the one who reminded you, asking about how he was and if you still hated jocks.

“He’s not bad, actually.”

“Of course, that’s why Yoongi actually likes him.” You raised an eyebrow suspiciously, leaning towards Jimin, “Speaking of Yoongi, how are things between you two?”

Your friend snorted, dismissing you with his hand, “What are you talking about? There’s nothing going on. We’re just friendly.”

“For now?”

Jimin shrugged, “We’ll see how it goes.” He gives you a wink before getting up, extending his hand out as an offer to pull you up. “Back on the mat.”

Training went on until 11pm, it was full of drills as soon your coach would be picking who will make mat for nationals. Everyone had to give it their all during practice as you were all constantly being scrutinised by your coach, your attitude, skills, and stamina. You had been training your stunts with Jimin after he managed to pull you back up from your sulking phase. Everything was important.

You separated from Jimin after practice as you made your way to the bus stop to head home. “Yn? Is that you?”

A very familiar honey-like voice.

Jungkook slowly made his way to the bus stop, “What are you doing here at campus so late?” You asked.

“I was studying. Just ended practice?”

“Yea.”

Jungkook glanced at his watch, “Wanna grab a midnight snack?”

You smiled, “Sure.”

“How does ice cream sound?”

“I’m down.”

There was a small ice cream store near campus and luckily, you managed to catch the last order. The both of you enjoyed your slow late night stroll back to the bus stop as you strikes up a conversation with him.

“I realised I was the only one talking about my sport that night. How about you share about rugby? I actually don’t know much about it.”

“You sure?” Jungkook asked, slightly shocked that you had brought up his sport. “Because I can get carried away when I talk about it—“

You laughed, “I’m sure Jungkook. Fire away.”

Jungkook started sharing the rules and positions of rugby - “I’m number 11, one of the wings” You looked at him, already confused with the terms. With a short chuckle, he explained, “I’m one of the backs. We do the running and scoring. Sometimes, we have to knock people down in our way.”

He continued sharing his training schedule as well - how his team similarly had gym sessions on non-training days just like cheer. The only difference was that the rugby team had a gym off campus.

“Sounds fancy.”

“It’s pretty fancy.” He nodded his head letting out an airy laugh.

“Rubgy doesn’t sound too bad now that I know how it works.”

“You could watch one of our matches or practices when you guys aren’t cheering for us.”

“Why not.”

—

“Guess who I see?” Jimin whispered, nudging you out of your focus. You looked up, placing your dumbbells down, “Where are you looking at?”

“6 o’clock.” He muttered as he sneakily stole your dumbbells to do his set while you turned around to spot Jungkook who had just entered the gym.

You were surprised to see Jungkook and his teammates at the gym. Yoongi was the first one who spotted you. He sent a small smile, raising his hand for a short wave in your direction.

“Hey thief,” You nudged Jimin back, “Yoongi is here too.”

“I know, that’s why I stole your dumbbells.” You chuckled, smacking his toned arms upon learning his tactic.

You watched Yoongi talk to Jungkook, seemingly informing him that you were there as Jungkook turned his body around, his eyes meeting yours. You smiled, sending a hello with your hand to which he returned.

Seeing that you were unoccupied, since Jimin stole your dumbbells, Jungkook made his way to you. “What happened to your almighty external gym?”

He shrugged with a bright smile, “After hearing you hype up the campus gym so much the other night, I thought, why not give it a shot?”

You shook your head with a chuckle, clearly not believing his words. “If that’s the case, enjoy the campus gym!” You reached out to pat his broad shoulders before turning back to resume your gym session.

“Are you done with your set yet?” You questioned Jimin who stood right back up with a grin, “Was he watching me?”

Taking the dumbbells from his hands, you shrugged, “Doubt it.”

“Yea right.” Jimin scoffed, stepping aside to give you more space.

Your gym session lasted an hour as usual, ensuring that you don’t over-work your body as well since your coach was going to be choosing the final 20 soon.

Whenever you weren’t studying or training, you were stressing over whether you’ll make mat. And it was evident on your face. You heard a sigh coming from Jimin, “Don’t stress over it too much. You’ve been working extra hard this season, I’m confident you’ll make it.”

You responded with a weak smile, “Thanks Jimin, I really hope so.”

“Me too, but what you need is to stop thinking about it right now. Go get a distraction for tonight. Tomorrow’s training is going to be torturous.”

“When isn’t it?” You joked, “Touché.”

You packed your gym bag with Jimin, ready to leave and wind down for the day. Jimin was right, you needed a distraction - maybe a Netflix movie, or do some yoga to de-stress, or do a sheet mask —

“Jimin, yn!” You heard Yoongi holler out your names as you walked away from the campus gym.

“Yoongi, what’s up?”

Yoongi walked up to the both of you, accompanied by Jungkook.

“We just ended our session, was thinking if you wanted to grab dinner together?”

“Sure! Yn here,” Jimin laces his arm around yours as he pulled you closer to him, “needs a distraction ASAP.”

“A distraction?” Jungkook asked, looking at you for a response.

“From worrying about making mat.”

Yoongi chuckled, “Jungkook doesn’t know cheer lingo— “

“Oh no,” He shook his head, “I know what that means.”

“You do?!” Yoongi and Jimin asked incredulously.

“I gave him a lecture about cheer during that after party.” You answered and Jimin laughed, “Right! I forgot about your granny lecture.”

You scoffed defensively, “I-I mean he could’ve stopped be any time he was bored— “

“Because I wasn’t. It’s refreshing seeing people be so passionate about something, especially during college.” You returned the smile, the more you interacted with Jungkook, the more you could see why Yoongi kept Jungkook in his small circle of friends.

If there was anything the four of you had in common, it was your passion for your sport.

“I know a great place we can eat at.” Yoongi suggested. The four of you headed over to Yoongi’s go-to restaurants after his workout sessions. As the food started to come to your table, Yoongi and Jimin were caught up with some music competition show that you did not keep up with.

“So how has cheer been?” Jungkook’s voice pulled your attention towards him. “Fun but tiring as usual. Our coach is selecting who will make it to the final 20 for the nationals.” You sighed, anxiousness clearly evident in your tone and on your face.

“Hey, from an athlete to another, I know you’ve trained very hard, and I’ll be rooting for you to make it to the final 20.”

You weren’t sure why, but it felt comforting to hear those words from Jungkook. It felt different than when Jimin would cheer you up. You quickly decided that it was because you were praised by one of the star players of the rugby team. It felt great being acknowledged by someone out of the cheer world.

So, you decided to go with that explanation.

“Thanks, Jungkook, I hope I do. But you technically don’t know whether I’ve trained hard since you’ve never seen me practice.”

“That is true.” He simply grinned at you, “But I just know.”

“You have so much faith in me, Jungkook.” You teased.

He placed his forearms on the table, leaning on them to bring himself slightly close to you, “I have lots of faith in you.”

—

You weren’t stupid and you weren’t blind either. You and Jimin have been spotting Jungkook and Yoongi loitering around the indoor gym lately.

“Did you see them?” Jimin tossed you your newly refilled bottle, “I haven’t left the gym. They’re here again? It’s like 10pm.”

Jimin shrugged his shoulders, “Yoongi was napping on the table though. Looks like Jungkook was the only one actually studying.”

Jungkook never mentioned to you that he stayed back in campus to revise. Though, you barely talked to him since you never exchanged numbers. Every time you had a conversation with him, you both would get too swept up in the conversation that it never occurred to either of you that it was the 21st century and you could talk with your phones.

Training ended an hour later, and you did not expect them to still be outside ‘studying’.

“You guys are still studying?” Jimin called out as you both approached them, Jungkook’s head shot up almost instantly, his eyes finding yours, a bright smile on his face despite his tired eyes from revision. “What a coincidence seeing you here.”

You raised your eyebrows questioningly, “Here,” You looked around with your hands gesturing to the area, “Right outside the indoor gym, with no fan or AC.”

“Yes, here.” He insisted.

Yoongi sighed, finally waking up from his nap. “What’s with the commotion— Oh, you guys are finally done with practice.” He got up and grabbed his bags, “Jimin, need a lift?”

“Yes please!” Jimin nodded his head, giving you a quick goodbye hug before heading off with Yoongi, leaving you alone with Jungkook.

“Guess I can’t judge your preference for a study location.” You made your way to him as he packed up his belongings. “I kinda feel bad for you that Yoongi ditched you.”

Jungkook shook his head with a smile, “He was meant to ditch me anyway. I was waiting to see you.”

You felt yourself momentarily pause; an inhale stuck halfway as you processed his words. He waited to see me. You thought, your brain trying to find an explanation for that.

“I realised we haven’t exchanged numbers even after all this time.” He continued when he didn’t get a response.

“O-Oh right, here,” You reached for your phone in your bag, handing it to Jungkook. “I’ll drop you message.”

Jungkook didn’t take your phone immediately, his eyes locked on your face, as if he was shocked that you didn’t mind exchanging numbers, his hand reached for your phone, gently brushing against your fingers, sending a fluttery feeling in your way.

Once he added his contact, he returned your phone, “It’s 11pm, do you have a ride home?”

“I usually just take the bus.”

“I have a car. Let me take you home.”

“Oh no,” You shook your head, “You don’t have to really, I’m used to taking the bus— “

“But I’m already here anyway, come on, do you not trust my driving skills?” He joked and you let out an airy laugh, “Alright fine. I owe you one.”

“Nah, you already gave me your number.” He winked at you, throwing his bag over his shoulder, leading the way to the carpark with you slightly stunned from his flirtatious remarks.

The care ride with Jungkook was comfortable, slightly tense on your end at the start. Jungkook gave you the cable to play whatever music you wanted which made you slightly more comfortable. “I don’t know if we have the same music taste— “

“It’s alright, just play whatever you want.”

“O-Okay…”

Surprisingly, you and Jungkook didn’t have that much of a difference in differing taste, there were some songs that he didn’t know but found himself liking it. He himself was shocked to learn that you had similar taste in music.

Jungkook didn’t know why he felt so nervous having you in his car and driving you home. It was not like you were getting married. But why did he feel so nervous? Jungkook rarely flirted or showed interest in someone. His love was rugby - his sport - his life. He poured his heart and soul into the sport. But with you, he found that he couldn’t help flirting with you. It felt natural - It felt right.

Ironically, or maybe not, as he drove you home that night, Jungkook knew deep down, he was in it for the long ride.

—

Jimin held your hands tightly as you kept your eyelids shut. You could feel that your heart was about to jump out of your chest as you sat on the mat with Jimin, waiting for your coach to call out all the 20 names. It almost felt like you could feel your heartbeat in your head, the suspense and dragging was killing you.

Your hands clammy in Jimin’s but you did not have a single care as all you wanted in that moment was to make it to nationals.

“Jimin.”

You gasped, pulling Jimin in for a tight hug as he yelled in excitement. You were proud of your best friend; you knew that he would make mat and he deserved it.

Names were called and there were only 5 names left to be called, you grip on Jimin’s hands slackened as you started to accept that you won’t make it—

“Yn.”

You ears rang and you thought you were about to go deaf. Jimin’s loud but happy scream stunned you as you were pulled in for a suffocating hug this time.

The last 4 names were called and the final 20 had been made (subject to change).

Tears welled up in your eyes as memories of your gruelling training flashed through your mind. All the tiring practices and extra trainings with Jimin, the hardships and discipline all paid off.

Training went swimmingly, your coach running through sections of the choreography until it was time to wrap up. “Didn’t have the time to properly congratulate you.” Jimin said with a bright proud grin on his face as you left the gym.

“Thanks, Jimin! Hopefully we can stay on the 20 and compete together.”

“I’m confident we will.”

His eyes shifted away from you, and you followed his gaze to see Jungkook outside, once again, studying, alone this time. “Where’s Yoongi?” You asked as you both approached him.

“He gave up studying with me. Probably went home to crash after our practice today.”

Jimin eyed Jungkook’s facial expression suspiciously, eyes darting between you and Jungkook before he spoke, “I’m going book a ride and head home first yea? Text me when you’re home.” Jimin gives your shoulder a good squeeze before saying bye to you and Jungkook.

“What’s with the big smile on your face?” Jungkook questioned as he started packing his belongings. Your smile was contagious and Jungkook couldn’t help but smile as well as soon as he saw your bright expression.

“I got into the top 20!”

You squared like a little girl, once again excited from the thought of making it this season.

Jungkook abruptly stopped gathering his stuff, stepping away from the table, “Really? Congrats, yn!” He pulled you in for a hug which made your muscles stiffen but your arms automatically wrapped around him.

“I’m so proud of you!”

“Thanks, Jungkook.” You chuckled as you pulled away from the embrace. Your mind was clouded, filled with a mixture of thoughts of making it to the Top 20 and how warm that hug felt. How it felt so ‘right’.

Over the past few weeks, it had become a routine, to have Jungkook studying outside the indoor gym and drive you home after practice. You always told him he didn’t need to send you home, but he never listened.

“Our qualifying match is next Friday, if we win, there’ll be an after party, are you free to come?”

“For the after party?”

“Yea, I mean, technically your whole cheer team usually come but since your nationals are coming, I’m assuming you would be too busy to come.”

“No no, I’ll come.”

“You will?” Jungkook’s face lit up and a bubbling feeling grew in your chest as you tried to ignore it. “Yea I will.”

—

Since Jungkook had his qualifying match around the corner, you stopped seeing him late at night outside the gym. You wouldn’t admit it out loud, but you missed seeing him after your practice.

Nonetheless, you would still spend the night texting him right before bed. It felt so easy to converse with him and you always looked forward to hear stories about his rugby practice and it felt nice to share about your cheer practice to him.

Friday quickly arrived and you decided to watch his match since the game was on your campus grounds. You took a seat somewhere in the middle of the bleachers and your eyes scanned the field to find Jungkook.

You recalled him explaining the positions of the backs and you found his number - 11. A smile crept unto your face as your eyes fixated on Jungkook. Your facial expression always scrunched up into a wince whenever you see them tackle each other during the game. You would let out a hiss as if you were the one sliding against the grass as Jungkook scored a point.

Nonetheless, it was fascinating to actually watch the game. Not surprisingly, after you understood the rules of the game, it was exciting to root for your college’s team. Maybe it was because you were rooting for a particular player, but you wouldn’t admit that to yourself just yet.

During half-time, your college’s team made their way back to the benches which was in front of where you sat. You didn’t bother shouting for his attention since you knew it was important to stay in the zone.

You sat at your spot, watching him, and you almost felt like a stalker. He was drenched in sweat, definitely going to have bruises or scratches from the game, you could see his chest move up and down as he took deep breaths to relax.

You felt your breath get caught in your throat when he had looked up and found your eyes amongst the crowd. Jungkook had been casually looking around the crowd to see if you really did come to watch his game.

He had texted you the night before about how he hoped you could come see his game now that you know how it actually worked. You told him no promises but had made sure you were free the afternoon to attend his game. Of course, you didn’t tell him that.

In an instant, his serious gaze broke into an inviting smile as he mouthed the words “hey” at your direction. You smiled back, returning the greeting while you hoped no one caught that moment between the two of you.

His coach called for their attention to remind them of their game plan but Jungkook was having a battle in his mind. The image of you smiling at the bleachers stayed as he tried to listen to his coach’s words. He knew the game plan, he was always on top the game. But seeing you watching him from the bleachers made him feel giddy but at least he also motivated him to do extra well. He wanted to look good in front of you.

And that’s exactly what he did.

He sent you text to wait for him to freshen up and you sat at your spot, enjoying the breeze as you waited for him to come back from his shower.

“You actually came.”

You looked up from your phone to see a wet-haired Jungkook approaching you with a lopsided grin. “Wanted to give support especially after all the times you sent me home after practice.”

Your phone vibrated as Jimin spammed you with messages when you stopped replying. Jimin had been asking about your whereabouts and you told him you were at the rugby game. He was upset since he would have tagged along to watch Yoongi if he knew you were going.

“Where’s Yoongi?”

Jungkook gestured with his thumb behind him, “Still showering. Is Jimin here?”

You chuckled, shaking your head, “He didn’t know I was coming to watch. I think he’ll attack me later at the party.”

“Sounds like a fun match to see.” He joked and you scoffed, “I’ll beat Jimin easily.”

“I’m sure, I’ll always be rooting for you.”

It sounded like another tease but his words caused nervous knots in your stomach. You deliberately ignored the feeling as you walked down the bleachers to his side, “Shall we get Yoongi and Jimin?”

“Yep, text me his address. We’ll pick him up once Yoongi is ready to go.”

Get ready, Jungkook’s picking you up - yn

I already look good, always ready - Jimin

Yoongi didn’t take long to come out of the showers and the three of you made your way in Jungkook’s car to pick Jimin up, all ready for the after party.

“I haven’t had dinner so I am ready for all the food.” Jimin groaned, clutching his stomach as he hopped off the car.

The four of you made your way up the driveway to see that the after party had started even earlier. “Looks like everyone couldn’t wait to party.” Yoongi commented as you entered through the main door, the loud typical party music blasting through the house.

It wasn’t a very packed party, lesser than the usual after parties but still plenty of people nonetheless.

There were already different groups engaging in different activities - gossiping, flirting, beer pong, truth or dare, Mario Kart and many more.

“Yn, you hungry? I heard Woohyun baked pasta for tonight.” Yoongi gestured to the kitchen. Before you could reply, Jungkook added on, “Someone’s barbecuing in the backyard though.”

“Barbecue?” You repeated, “Sounds delicious.” You turned your head back to Yoongi, “I’ll follow you guys after!”

Yoongi and Jimin made their way to the kitchen while you and Jungkook headed over to start your night with barbecue.

At the backyard, there was a swimming pool with a small lawn where the barbecue was. The two of you made your way to the table with the cooked food, helping yourself to dinner.

“This tastes amazing.” You moaned in delight after the first bite.

Jungkook laughed, “Come on,” He took an empty plate and grabbed a handful of barbecue sticks and kebabs, leading the way to the other side of the pool with one empty lounge chair.

You shared the plastic lounge chair, sitting beside Jungkook as you shared the plate. “So, how was my game?”

“To be honest,” You cleared your throat, “More interesting now that I know the game.”

He grinned like a happy high school boy, “That’s great to hear! Maybe you can watch more of my games or practices when you have the time.”

“We’ll see about that.” You teased, grabbing another stick to feed yourself.

“So, how’s your prep for nationals?”

“Tiring, one of our flyers got a concussion after a bad fall last night so she’s temporarily replaced. Our pyramid’s a mess.”

Jungkook lightly nudged your shoulders, “I’m sure it’ll turn out well. You guys are the defending champions.”

“I hope we can defend it this season.”

“Gotta think positively.” He winked at you and you returned a small smile. Silence fell upon you two as you noticed the lack of personal space between the both of you. It felt comfortable yet nerve-racking to be so close to him.

Was he uncomfortable with the closeness? Should you move away?

Just as you were about to scoot away, he spoke. “I’m really glad you came to my match tonight. It felt different.” He admitted rather shyly as his gaze dropped to the half empty plate.

“Different?”

Jungkook nodded his head, “Felt nice knowing there’s someone out there rooting for me.”

“There were lots of people rooting out for you.”

“Yea but, someone out there that I really want to impress.”

You didn’t have a reply, you weren’t sure how to reply. You decided to opt for a small encouraging pat on his shoulder before retracting your hand.

It didn’t seem much from an outsider’s perspective, but his words held a lot of weight. For the both of you. Almost as if you were about to cross a line - some line that you weren’t sure if you’re both ready to cross.

“Well,” He cleared his throat, standing up, “Shall we go find the two?”

“S-Sure.”

The two of you entered through the back door and was immediately blocked by his fellow team player, handing both of you a bottle of soju. “Gotta help us finish these, Jeon. Someone,” his eyes darted to another team player, “Accidentally ordered twice our usual order.”

“Damn.” Jungkook laughed in disbelief, “I’ll pull my weight then.”

“Great! You know what’s a perfect game for that? Spin the Bottle! You guys wanna play?”

Jungkook’s gaze darted to yours as you hesitated to reply.

“Come on Jeon, you always reject our games. Just this once, yea?”

He sighed, “A-Alright sure. Yn?”

You shook your head, “I’ll pass. Go have fun.” You patted his back as you excused yourself to the kitchen. There was a sour feeling knowing that Jungkook agreed to play Spin the Bottle, you avoided looking at the circle at the living area as you went to find Yoongi and Jimin guarding the snacks.

“Where’s Jungkook?”

“Spin the Bottle.” You plopped yourself down beside Jimin, chugging the soju bottle in your hand.

“Someone sounds affected.” Jimin teased, handing you a plate of pasta.

“No one’s affected.” You defended yourself as you grabbed a fork to eat the pasta, ignoring the feeling in your chest.

You had almost completely forgotten about Spin the Bottle as the three of you went on to talk about other things. You were laughing and enjoying your night with the two until you heard the familiar voice that made your muscles freeze.

“Any pasta left for me?”

You turned to look at Jungkook, “Enjoyed the game?”

“Pretty interesting,” He started and you immediately wanted to shut his voice out, “But would’ve been fun if you were in the game.” He winked at you before he took a plate for himself, acting as if he hadn’t said those words. You saw the empty soju bottle that he placed on the counter top and figured it was the alcohol talking so you decided to brush it off. It was probably the alcohol making him say such a brave statement in front of your friends.

Would something have happened if you agreed to play the game?

—

You realised that maybe he did decide to be more brave.

He started sitting in the gymnasium to watch your practices. Jimin would always inform you when he spotted Jungkook, insisting that he was here to watch you. Though you constantly denied, because you knew he knew a few of you guys from all the parties.

Somehow, you always felt his eyes were locked on you - his attention never leaving you no matter how chaotic the mat got. Every fall, every success, every break. You just knew he was looking at you.

The first practice you realised he was there, you approached him after practice ended.

“Hey Jungkook!”

“Why are you here?”

“Am I that unwanted? Looks like only Jimin is glad to see me here.”

“N-No,” You were caught off-guard, “I was just wondering—“

“I know, I’m kidding.” Jungkook chuckled, getting up from the bench, hopping down to stand right in front of you. “You came to my game, and I want to come see your practices. I haven’t actually seen how serious cheer can be.”

You hummed, “Alright then.” You tossed your damp towel over your shoulder. Jungkook reached out, “Let me take your bag. I saw how tiring practice was.”

“Jungkook it’s fine—“

“And you fell from that pyramid a couple of times. You better ice that bruise.” He pointed to the bruise on your shin. You had gotten the bruise when you knocked it against one of your teammate’s foot when you had fallen off the pyramid.

He had successfully snatched your duffel bag when you were distracted by the bruise on your shin. “Jungkook—“

“Come on, let the guy be a gentleman.” Jimin nudged your sides and you shot a light glare his way. “I already booked a ride and it’s here so I’ll head home first. Text me when you’re home, yea?” Jimin patted your shoulder before jogging off.

During the ride home, Jungkook shared how in awe he was during your practice. “I felt that same way watching your game too.” You admitted.

“I’m definitely watching nationals with Yoongi.”

“You don’t have to—“

“But I want to! I’m coming.”

Over the weeks, you learned even more about Jungkook.

Firstly, Jungkook was a really thoughtful individual.

He also loved going the extra mile. You knew his rugby training schedule since he shared it before. So you knew he was watching your late night sessions after his tiring ones on some days, yet still sat through all the way.

He didn’t attend all practices, but he didn’t have to. You always appreciated the times he came to watch and you made it a point to watch his trainings as well when you had nothing on.

Secondly, Jungkook was one of the most hardworking and disciplined individuals that you have met.

Every footwork drill, punishment or endurance runs, he took it seriously. He always gave it his 110%. Even when you knew he was near his limit, he never slacked.

Thirdly, Jungkook was cute when he was in the zone.

His eyebrows always scrunched together, sometimes he would bite his lip for extra concentration. He would whisper to himself after his attempts or runs, possibly correcting himself or encouraging himself.

You knew he was his harshest critic. You could see it in his training etiquette.

From an athlete to another, Jungkook was a very respectable athlete - in both fitness and character.

Eventually, this became routine between the both of you. You would watch each other’s practices whenever you had the time. Jimin and Yoongi had gotten used to the scene as well.

Both would tease the both of you separately, “Look who’s here.”

“Shut up.” You both would say to them, trying to fight the smile that wanted to break through.

“You know, people will start thinking that we’re dating.”

“That wouldn’t be a bad thing, now would it?” Jungkook tilted his head, a cheeky grin on his face as he tossed you a cold unopened bottle of water. His reply sent your heart fluttering. He knew his way with words.

“It’ll kill your popularity with the public. Everyone will lose hope and stop pining after you.” You said dramatically after taking a big gulp of the refreshing water.

“Still don’t see how that’s a bad thing.”

“You know, you’re a real flirt Jeon Jungkook.”

He grinned cheekily, “Only when I want to.”

He definitely knew his way with words, and possibly, his way to your heart.

—

Jungkook started asking you out for lunch and dinner over the weeks, including the weekends. It was refreshing seeing you two not dripping in sweat from training. And he cleaned up well.

Although the rugby finals and cheer nationals were just around the corner, you both tried to find spare time to hang out. It felt like a stress-reliever. You both needed it. Jungkook knew he needed and wanted it. He always wanted to see you.

You were both at an open field, lying next to each other, bodies facing up as you enjoyed the night sky. Silence engulfed the both of you as you relished the tranquility of the night.

With hectic schedules, you appreciated times like this when you didn’t have to think about something so serious like competitions and expectations.

You were grateful that you made it to the Final 20 but it was still stressful knowing that there are high expectations for your team to defend your title.

It was the same for Jungkook.

“This feels great, doesn’t it?” He was the first to break the silence.

You turned just your head to admire his side profile as his eyes remained glue to the starry night.

“It does.”

Jungkook paused before continuing the conversation, “You know, I didn’t actually play Spin the Bottle that night. I just drank every time it was me, just wanted to please Woohyun.”

Confused, you weren’t sure why Jungkook had brought that up out of the blue. “Why are you—”

“I just wanted you to know. Felt like you had to know.” He shrugged his shoulders, pressing his lips into a tight line. “Didn’t want to send mix signals.”

“Mix signals?” You turned around, lying on top of your stomach as you got up on your forearms. You had a hunch of where this conversation was heading, but you didn’t like to be one making assumptions. Jungkook turned his head to face you, “I’m into you. I always like being with you and I hope you feel the same way.”

Nothing came out of your mouth. You were stunned by his sudden confession. Your eyes remained on his face as he kept a soft smile, with not a single ounce of regret on his face.

“I… I like being with you too.” You replied shyly, shuffling back down to lie down on your back next to him, not daring to make eye contact.

Next to you, Jungkook let out a short chuckle. He decided not to push it for that night. But it was enough to know that things were going right between the two of you.

“I never shared this with anyone but, sometimes, I do feel like quitting rugby.”

You were taken aback by his sudden change in topic but didn't to roll with it

“Why?”

He took a while to respond, formulating his thoughts into sentences. “The expectations get too much sometimes, especially as one of the labelled star players.” He scoffed, as if he was laughing at the term, or himself.

“I’m sure as the Final 20 in cheer you feel that expectation as well.”

You didn’t give a verbal reply, only nodding your head as you turned your head back to face up to the sky.

Jungkook didn’t need a verbal reply, he knew you felt the same.

“It’s suffocating. But right now, I feel like I can take a deep long breath, and not worry about making a mistake or slowing down.”

Just as he said that, he took a deep inhale, letting out his breath through is mouth.

“That felt good to let out. I never wanted to share this with others because I’m afraid they’ll think that I’m taking my position and skills for granted.”

“Yea I get what you’re saying.” You assured him and he smiled, turning his head to face you. You heard the shuffling sounds and you decided to face him as well, momentarily freezing when your eyes finally met his.

“But it feels like I can talk to you about anything. It feels nice to talk to you, yn.”

You were once again lost for words, feeling your cheeks grow hot as your eyes remained locked in his gaze.

“I feel safe with you.”

—

It was the final championship match for rugby. Your cheer team was once again there, to root for your college - you and Jimin were specifically rooting for Yoongi and Jungkook.

The whole venue was excruciatingly loud and tense. Both colleges with great support backing them. The match was very close and you could tell how they seemed more tired than other games. The nerves and the physical demand was getting to them.

Your coach yelled, calling their hands to get your attention. “Come on guys, time to boost their morale”

With your pom poms in your hands, your cheer team gathered, facing your side of the bleachers, enthusiastically cheering the campus cheers and getting the crowd to join in.

It was followed by simply stunts and routines to get the atmosphere more lively and ready for the game to resume.

As the players passed by your team, you all wished them good luck.

“Good luck, Yoongi!”

“Good luck, Jungkook!” You exclaimed encouragingly, shaking both your pom poms his way as he turned around to see you. He winked at you, mouthing the words ‘thank you’ before they made their way to the field.

“You’re drooling.”

Jimin’s voice taunted you from the side, You elbowed his side, “You’re doing the same.”

“Touche.”

As the timer reaches the end, your side erupted in the loudest of cheers, you happily screaming along with the crowd. This win felt different from all the different times your cheer team supported them. Your college managed to defend their title, winning the championship for the season.

When the players returned to the benches and huddled for a group photo together, Jimin whispered, “Why don’t you go up and congratulate him?”

“Hush, Jimin, not in front of everyone.”

“Come on, don’t be shy. I know you like him.”

“We’re just close friends.”

Jimin scoffed, his index finger pointing to you and himself, “You and I are close friends. You and Jungkook however, are idiots who don’t want to admit that you guys like each other.”

“Shut it!” You sighed, lightly hitting him with your pom poms. When you turned around, Jungkook had already made his way to you. “You were cheering really hard back there.”

“Just for you.”

Just for me?” He raised his eyebrows, a smug look on his face as he stepped closer, “Yoongi’s gonna be devastated knowing that—“

“Actually my cheers were for Yoongi but I didn’t want you to feel upset or forgotten.”

Jungkook frowned and you really wished you had the guts to just kiss him right there, your eyes flickering to his pink soft lips.

“I’m kidding, don’t cry, not when you just became a champion.”

Jungkook laughed heartily before leaning towards your ear, “I’m already a champion having you on my side to cheer me on.”

—

Attention immediately shifted to your team for the upcoming nationals which was just a week after Jungkook’s finals.

You guys had constant past few runs leading up to the final day and everything felt like it would go well. The biggest obstacle was controlling your mental state during the day itself.

The night before, Jungkook had sent you a lengthy good luck message as he reminded you that he would be there.

You slept peacefully that night and woke up to read his message in the morning once again. You had your own cheerleader this time.

Everything seemed to go by quickly, the warm ups and runs backstage while waiting for your team’s turn. You had not met Jungkook or Yoongi since you were preparing backstage with your team, focused on getting into the right mental state.

Your heart almost jumped out of your chest when it was finally your team’s turn to perform.

The sun was scorching hot and there were many spectators. You stood in formation with your teammates as you waited for the song to play.

It felt way different than last season. Even though you were there last season to support the performing team, it truly felt different to be the one about to perform on the mat. With all eyes on you, carefully watching for any mistakes or mishaps. The heat already making you sweat when you stepped onto the stage.

But once the music played, that was all you could focus on.

Bright smiles plastered on all your faces as you went through the routine. A silent celebration in your head every time your team successfully pulled off a stunt.

Quick gazes made on the mat as you constantly changed formation. Encouraging looks and the sounds of the encouragement on the mat from your teammates to get you through the routine.

And just like that - it was your ending pose. Heavy pants surrounding you as your gaze locked on the audience. You all broke character afterwards, squealing and hugging each other for not screwing up the pyramid and the routine.

It felt good.

In fact, it felt amazing.

Jimin yelled your name, pulling you in for a tight hug, “We did it!”

“I know!”

Once all the teams had finished, the top 2 teams were announced and your college name was called out.

In front of the entire crowd, you hold intertwined your hands, head hung low and eyes shut right as you awaited for the results. The cheerleader holding the 2nd prize trophy walked back and forth between the two college teams as the announcer evilly drags on the result.

Your heartbeat was pounding loudly and you could feel it in your head, all your hands clasped together were clammy from nervous sweat.

Jungkook’s hopefully eyes stayed locked on your figure as he waited for announcements from the crowd.

The other college was called and your entre team’s knees went weak, buckling as some immediately fell to the ground.

Deafening screams erupted as you were pulled into a big group hug, you guys had just defended your title.

Your team was the reigning national champion once again.

Tears were falling as everyone congratuler each other. Your coach and assistant coach ran up to mat to join the group hug as your team proudly accepted the winning trophy.

You had made your way off the stag to reunite with the other cheer members as the public slowly started to approach you for a team photo.

With tears all over your faces, you posed for the group photos as thanked all your teammates with a big hug.

“Yn!”

You heard his voice amongst the chaos.

You felt yourself immediately searching for the familiar pair of eyes in the crowd. The moment your eyes landed on him, you rushed up towards him, his arms wide open ready to accept you.

Jungkook pulled you in for tight embrace, repeatedly saying “congrats, you did it, I know you guys would win”. Tears flowed down your face once again still not believing what had just happened.

It felt so surreal and yet being in Jungkook’s embrace felt even more surreal. It was as if you were in a dream.

“Congrats yn!” You heard Yoongi’s voice from behind Jungkook.

You pulled away to see not only Yoongi but the entire rugby team with him. They were cheering proudly, chanting your college’s name with pride. Your eyes immediately farted back to Jungkook who had kept his arms around you.

“Did you…?”

“Yes, I convinced everyone to come. They’d be missing on such a stellar performance.”

As if your grin couldn’t get any bigger, your broke into a euphoric laugh, “You’re amazing.”

“You’re calling me amazing? After what your team had just displayed back there? You must be blind—“

Maybe it was the adrenaline rush, the high influx of dopamine from winning the competition and from being in his embrace. It didn’t matter, when your lips met his, you knew that was all that mattered at that moment.

You felt Jungkook lean into the kiss, his arms pulling you closer to his body. Both of you could hear your cheer team behind you and Jungkook’s rugby team behind him, both cheering your names.

You guys laughed into the kiss when you heard Yoongi and Jimin loudly expressed their thoughts. “It’s about time.”

“I swear I thought they’ll never get to this stage.”

—

His bright and welcoming smile never failed to make your day, no matter how tired you were. You never thought that you’d love going for rugby practices and matches. It was the complete opposite scenario from the beginning of the year.

But now, it never got boring to watch your boyfriend get into his sport. You would always tell him that he looked attractive when he was serious. You enjoyed doing that because it always made him fluster and fumble over his words.

“I-I don’t… Nah… I don’t look cute when I’m serious.” He would adjust the neckline of his shirt, trying to maintain a nonchalant expression on his face.

“You’re finally done.” You made your way down the bleachers, “I’ve been thinking about dessert the past 30 minutes.”

Jungkook nodded his head, extending his arms out to pull you into a sweaty hug. He placed a light kiss on your forehead, pulling back slightly to get a better view of your face.

“Ice cream?”

Deja Vu.

You remembered the first night you hung out with Jungkook after meeting him at the after party. When you were at the bus stop ready to go home.

WIth a grin, you leaned in to kiss his soft lips lightly, “I’m down.”

[jiminrings]

lunchbox koo first time ughhh it’ll be so cute >< jungkook is shy but after the first time he gets freaky and gets more confident regarding that

cold senior!y/n x stem major!koo masterlist :D

it’s stem koo’s first time, and he could cry in bliss just knowing that it’s with you — it would always be you.

Jungkook thinks he shouldn't complain.

He thinks he shouldn't complain not because there isn't any room for it (plenty for it actually), but because he thinks there's nothing about it at all that's complaint-worthy and is demanding of any revision.

You're used to him complaining at this point and atleast he has the nerve to feel quite sorry, but it's just something that eats at his nerves when he wants to raise his grievance with you.

In fact, Jungkook thinks he should be grateful because after all, his so-called "problem" is something that some people would fight tooth and nail for to have.

His ears perk when you instruct him to move the full-length mirror to his right, cheeks puffing out mid-thought at the word that it stops him completely from adjusting the placement of the mirror to your liking.

“Don’t," he softly mumbles, brows knitting in the barrage of emotions he doesn't know how to dissect, “don’t call me that.”

He sees the confusion register in your face, staring down on him while you’re stood on your bed and he suddenly feels the need to back-track his words.

“Call you what?” your eyebrows furrow in recollection of everything you’ve ever said and called him for the past hour, seeing your boyfriend shy away from your glance with a childish look on his face that it sinks in eventually. “Baby?”

Jungkook cusses under his breath on how you managed to catch on so quick, putting his hand on his nape as if you were gonna eat him alive on what he’s gonna say next.

He sometimes hates himself for being so honest when it comes to you, and sometimes he hates how understanding you could be because he couldn’t predict what you’d react to him now.

“Yoongi teased me awhile ago.”

It’s a pathetically small mumble and Jungkook isn’t even sure if the words ever crossed past his lips, but he’s sure that they left him somehow because you’re laughing.

You’re full-on cackling either at him or with him and as much as it makes his lips curve at the sound of your laughter, it makes him defensive.

Defensive enough that he doesn’t realize he’s pouting because it’s his second nature, scrunching his face in the process.

“You’re not supposed to laugh. Even Jin elbowed me when you called me that.”

He's dancing around the term of endearment and he chalks it up to how he distinctly remembers Yoongi repeating it with his eyes squinted and his eyebrows wiggling, added with Seokjin's sharp elbows that made him consciously feel his ribs.

“Shouldn’t you be happy?” you tilt your head with genuine curiosity, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Don’t get me wrong, but didn’t you tell me that you wanted to be closer with them? That you want them to loosen up to you? They’re just teasing you, Jungkook.”

“Y-yeah, I did say that, you’re right,” he sheepishly admits, already aware that he was contradicting himself from the start. “I swear it could count as bullying though.”

Jungkook feels appalled for a split second before he realizes that the laugh he's given you is worthwhile, a tiny bit satisfied that his complaints atleast gave you sincere amusement.

It's in ridiculous moments like these that you realize your boyfriend tends to be a little more sensitive than the rest of the people you're accustomed to. A little more fragile, a little more eroded around the edges but it doesn't mean that he isn't any less compact at the core.

“Take it up to student affairs then.”

“Seokjin is student affairs. You’re not funny.”

The frown on his face gives you all the more reason to observe him this way — sensitive, warm, lovable.

Jungkook can't be Jin because your boyfriend would whimper at the slightest onset of an inconvenience but he'd whimper even more if he can't manage to resolve it. Meanwhile, your friend installs Ikea furniture without a manual and sleeps on it for weeks until he finds the resolve to continue trying.

Jungkook can't be Yoongi either because the former would bend over backwards and drink a mistaken order given to him, even if it means he paid extra for something he didn't want. On the other hand, the latter isn't afraid of coming straight to the counter holding your burger when you clearly said that you don't want pickles in it.

He can't be the other two people you treasure in your life and it's more than okay for you, the special distinction of how he stands within your heart already being enough.

“Alright, alright,” you wave him off, going straight to the mirror to adjust it because he's clearly too perplexed on how you just agreed with him. “I won’t ever call you baby again.”

Jungkook has no qualms with you but he certainly has one now, mouth parted at how that was too easy. How his request that he didn't even wholeheartedly mean became approved that quick.

A squeak leaves him before he knows it, looking between you and the reflection of himself.

“Well now you’re just guilt-tripping me.”

“I’m respecting your wishes,” you whisper playfully, making him gasp as he loops his arm around yours to effectively pull you closer out of panic.

“Don’t say ever,” he emphasizes and then could you see how his eyes widen at the particular word, cheeks puffed while he tries to get you to meet his eyes. “You’re never gonna call me baby? Ever?”

“Nope,” you breathlessly chuckle as you attempt to unloop your arm from his, earning yourself an even more eager pull to his direction. “Why would I? I’m just granting your wishes.”

Jungkook looks stupefied at your retort and you have an inkling in your mind that he looks like he'd actually plead with you, being unmistaken when you see his bottom lip actually quiver.

“Can I take it back?”

He hugs you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder and effectively nuzzling his nose to the crook of your neck. It's a habit of his to burrow into you whenever he gets his hands on you, something you've noticed him doing to comfort himself.

You obviously don't mind it but it's something you've come to know that Jungkook doesn't even realize the effect of, not that it matters, but it's in softly domestic moments like these that it packs an extra effect.

“Call me baby again.”

He mumbles against your neck and with the way you look at his reflection, you're sure it's not out of that eager will. He's hung-up on the pet name and you're clearly hung-up on much different things.

"No."

You disagree so certainly and you're clueless that you've already uttered it out loud. It's a clear no to the things that materialized in your head out of thin air, all because of the way Jungkook nuzzles into your neck and your first thought is to give him more access.

He's oblivious to the internal conflict in your mind — oblivious to the way how there's a lump on your throat from realizing that at your point of view in front of the mirror, Jungkook engulfs you as a whole unit.

It's a weekend and the only plans you had were to buy a mirror and get takeout for lunch; simple as that. But then Yoongi caught wind of your plans, and decided that he'd come with because he reasons that he wants to see if the mirror you're buying is worthy enough because of course, it's only natural that whatever you buy is his too — or atleast because he argues that it's the law.

Then came Jin, who woke up because of Yoongi's insistent voice that if you don't let him come with you to the store, it could only mean that you don't love him anymore. Naturally, he shoots straight up from bed because he can't pass up on egging either of you. Coincidentally, it also happens that he bought a new keyring and he wants to drive to see if it would obnoxiously jangle around. Even more coincidentally, he has an extra hundred dollars in the event that the needs to add in to your budget because he wants your mirror to atleast be three feet taller than him.

You should've expected that when you replied to Jungkook's good morning message at an earlier time than you usually did, which he knows could only mean that you're running an errand, he automatically asks if he could come with and walks to your dorm even before you say yess.

It's far too hot for his usual hoodie and sweats combo that he came straight into your space without much thought of what he should wear for an errand he just only had a vague idea of — a fitted thin black shirt and black basketball shorts that cut off above his knees.

Jungkook's too oblivious with the way he has his arms around your middle, snaked snugly right below your boobs, with his face nuzzling your neck and the costly effects it has on you and your sanity.

“Why not? That’s my wish. You just told me that you’re granting mine.”

He's still fixed on gaining back his name but you're way past it, instead fixating your gaze downwards to empty your thoughts.

It's okay. It's completely and utterly okay. It's just hot, your boyfriend's wearing a different outfit, and it just happens that he's naturally clingy. He's clueless and you're not pointing it out to him that you're bothered in a way that you're certain he's not quite ready to help with.

“Pick another, Jungkook. I’ll rethink it in two business days because apparently, someone’s embarrassed of me.”

You recover fairly quickly and you don't have to shrug him off you because he detaches himself to look at you in shock, his only points of warmth on you being his hands on your shoulders while he looks at your reflection.

“W-what? I’m not! I’m just-“ he trips over his words when you look at him with a mocking raise to your brow, making him mumble in defeat. “Shy. You know I’m shy.”

“I know, bab-“ you intentionally slip up and only then could you see him scowling at your teasing, bumping your elbow to the back to lightly jab at him.

You still have your mind to purge your thoughts from and mirrors to clean, laying your point as best as you could when you suddenly push him off you with your hips, getting an offended gasp afterwards.

“I know, Jungkook. But you know that Yoongi and Jin are my friends and they’re just teasing you. You can’t whine at everything, y’know?”

“I am not whiney!”

Jungkook's eyes widen considerably, talking in a pout while he desperately defends himself from what he thinks is your most ruthless dig at him.

His eyes are still wide at you even if he waits for you to say something, anything, that would give him the peace of mind that you agree with him not being whiny at all. He's blinking every second in the fear that you'd mouth the words anytime now, but it never comes. The agreement to be in his side never comes band all he gets is your nose scrunching up at him.

“Sure you aren’t.”

You didn't know what to expect now that you've egged him further but it's definitely not him tugging your shirt towards him, making the fabric cling onto your front more than snugly as he cages you in to his chest innocently.

“Take that back."

“Jungkook,” you warn him with no real bite just yet, sending him daggers through the mirror but he doesn't relent and in fact returns your glare that's twice more stubborn.

He frowns petulantly, brows knitted together in his attempt at correction. “It’s baby.”

A breath you didn't even know you were holding leaves you in a breeze, unaware that your boyfriend's stubbornness all along is something that would knock you out of breath.

You try to ignore how Jungkook easily pulled you into him without much thought, only to possessively embrace you into his hold — all of that done out of pure innocence, just because you agreed to not call him baby.

“Do you know what you did just now?”

His wide curious eyes later turned into realization, hand scrambling to cover your mouth for what you're gonna point out next but you get it out even before he could.

“You just whined.”

Jungkook audibly groans to your ear and you have to close your eyes just to stop thinking full-time, not wanting your mind to wander to the other scenarios that would pull out such a guttural sound out of him once or rather several more.

He frowns and you're unfazed because you're used to him doing so when he doesn't get what he wants, edging you to the thought that he's really quite the stubborn one out of the two of you. The clingier, stubborn, and more eager one in the relationship.

Jungkook stands up fully and just when you think that he's letting go off you, his arms bend at the elbows and proceed to level them underneath your armpits — poised in a position as if he's holding you back and keeping you still while he looks at you in the mirror but of course; he's clueless.

You try to keep your thoughts at bay but it's beyond hard knowing that he keeps feeding into them without knowing, not being able to resist either when you break out of his hold to get out of such an enticing position you've once seen in your dreams, making him tumble back a little with a pout.

"Move away a little."

He doesn't take your dismissal to heart because he sees you pulling up a chair in front of the mirror, standing on top of it to hang the crochet heart Jin made for you.

Did you plan to put up the powder blue crochet heart on top of your mirror? Yes. Did you really need to do it now? Not at all, but you felt it was necessary to buffer your impure thoughts into focusing on a wholesome and handmade craft your friend gave you.

You think it's helping because it's immediately removing your attention on how delectable your boyfriend looks and instead refocus it onto sticking it up as even and as proportional as you could. What doesn't help, is that Jungkook's first instinct upon seeing you stand up on a chair is to put his hands on your waist tightly.

His hands are large and pretty and warm and it makes you cuss underneath your breath of how this is the second time the vision of him holding you up appears, the plan of clearing your thoughts immediately backfiring.

“I can make another wish, right?”

“If it makes you whine less, sure.”

You reply almost immediately, relieved that he's talking and deviating the conversation into somewhere else. His whines always seep into the back of your head and as much as you'd want to hear them, the timing of it all doesn't match up.

You're just about to pry his hands off from your waist but it doesn't happen because Jungkook holds you even more tightly than before, a heavy breath leaving him that it has you glancing at his reflection in the mirror.

“Take my virginity.”

Jungkook doesn't hesitate thinking twice that he's caught you off-guard because you make no move in hiding your surprise, the crochet heart you were in the verge of sticking onto the wall with mounting tape already falling unceremoniously.

His eyes widen when there's an impalpable silence that consumes the both of you but he doesn't find himself wanting to take the words back, completely confused when you step down to the ground with no hesitation.

“Give me my first time.”

He makes it clear by saying it again, strengthening what he's just said seconds ago but it feels like it's been hours since your face is indifferent, nonchalant even as you sit on the edge of your bed to open your phone.

“Don’t just say that.”

He hears you grit through your teeth and Jungkook fears that he's offended you for a second, although he doesn't find any hint of it on your face that remains the same. You look unbothered just as usual and not as if he just asked you to fuck him — he thought he'd get a bigger and perhaps more loving reaction than what you're giving him now.

“But I mean it — I do want it,” he explains sincerely, plucking your phone from your fingers and tossing it behind you, earning a squawk in return. “But not unless you don’t want to.”

Jungkook's voice becomes small and becomes regretful that he just snatched your phone away from you because initially, he just did it to get you to look at him and not avoid eye contact! But here he is, the little stunt he pulled already biting him in the ass.

You look up at him and it's unlike of him to be the one to shy away from all the gazing he does at you, already knowing that he feels touchy at the moment. He's pretty just like you've realized before; defined and soft at the same time, his faded blonde hair longer as they reach past his ears and are tucked behind them, his eyes more visible since he's taken off his glasses and perched them on your vanity just minutes ago.

“Of course I want to,” your voice is as gentle and as soothing it could be, instantly garnering the attention of your boyfriend who's standing in front of you. “It’s just that I don’t want you to feel obligated because you’re with me.”

It's true and you mean it wholeheartedly, comprising the majority of the reasons why you always try to tone down the mature thoughts you have regarding your boyfriend because it feels intrusive almost, even if he's boldly told you about the thoughts he had of you before.

It's internalized pressure you always try to contain because you can't exactly tell Jin nor Yoongi how much you want your boyfriend to fuck and do the likes with you, knowing that it would invite even more pressure into your mind.

Jungkook's heart expands twofold at the consideration you always have for him, eyes bulging as he desperately shuts down the concern you have for him.

“I’m completely sure, I promise.”

He bobs his head up and down in lightning speed and his hands automatically reach out for you to take, wanting you to pull him down on the bed, but you apparently don't do it quick enough which is why he immediately sits down beside you and places you on his lap instead. "Never been more sure ever than right now, I'm telling you."

Your laugh gets cut short because he puts his hand behind your head and pulls you close fervently, kissing you like he means it that you're pleasantly surprised when he immediately manages to take control, drawing out a moan from him when you happily cooperate.

You've always known that Jungkook's an attentive lover; always keen and eager and trying to please. He's giddy and vocal and it crosses your mind that you're all he's ever known when it comes to this, the realization of the fact giving more warmth to you than you initially thought it would.

Jungkook makes you tilt your head so he could kiss you deeper and it doesn't make him glaze over the fact that he doesn't want you to strain your neck, his hand affectionately cupping your nape while your hands get busy trying to get his shirt over and off him, feeling the warmth of his hand on your exposed skin.

"How do I-" he whispers, grunting particularly when you grind on his clothed cock that's straining through his basketball shorts, "how do we do this?"

He feels an unmeasurable heat within and he knows he can't chalk it up to the weather this time, but rather, he'd point it out to you who's grinding on him as your hips rut forward, the warmth of your center slowly bleeding into his own because your shorts are thin and he could make himself silly just trying to imagine you bare.

“It’s your first time, Koo,” you scratch lightly in circles on his back, turning him over the edge more than it does to soothe him. “I’ll take care of you.”

Jungkook's eyes prick at your promise and he finds his mouth falling open because not soon after your assurance, you undress right in front of him without hesitation, instantly finding religion in the silent worship he gives you with his eyes.

“I think I’m gonna cum already.”

The words tumble out of him without filter and it makes you snort mid-way in making him shimmy out of his shorts, cock springing up to his tummy that he feels almost embarrassed under your watchful gaze.

“Save it,” you stifle giggles at his candidness but it became his turn to stop breathing when you sit on his thighs, eyes wide in realization that the two of you are so close and the fact alone makes him want to explode.

Jungkook's vow of speechlessness becomes void the moment your hand pumps his desperately pink and throbbing member, mewling into your kiss that makes his eyes squint in pleasure.

His hands dig into your hips and you relish with the way he kneads it like he's learned how to when he massages your neck when you're buried in schoolwork and it's the only thing he could do to help you out because you're in your senior year and he has no clue when he squints at your textbooks. There's eager intention with how he kneads the flesh, his neatly-trimmed nails leaving marks when you squeeze his cock a little too tight.

“I’m not gonna hurt you, am I? I read somewhere that it can hurt sometimes.”

Jungkook speaks the moment he feels you slowing down with your ministrations, figuring out that this is the part when it actually happens and it makes you smile unexpectedly.

He's humble and there's no cockiness behind it (even if next time you want him to own up just rightfully), just full of worry in theory and soon in practice because after all, you are his first.

“You’re big, Jungkook,” you mumble to his lips and he doesn't know how to take what you've just said, the worry leaving his face when you press your lips to him to calm his worries. “But it’s okay. It’s just gonna be a bit of a stretch for me, while it’s gonna be tight for you.”

“Are you sure? I don’t wanna hurt you,” he's looking up at you with innocent eyes and the intimacy in it almost knocks you out of breath, a chuckle leaving your lips.

“You’re not,” you assure him sincerely, the thought of having it otherwise next time making your tongue poke your cheek in thought, shaking the thought away in the meantime as you runs your hands down his arms. “If it makes you feel better, you can stretch me out first.”

“Yes please.”

Jungkook nods and eagerly heeds your suggestion to satisfy his qualms, licking his lips when he looks down at you because you're practically dripping and he could feel the wetness sticking into his inner thighs.

He feels your lips on his neck as you let him get lost looking at your pussy, his breathing evidently getting heavy until you let him fuck you with his eyes enough, disrupting the static in his head.

“There. Put a finger in me.”

Jungkook's eyes widen at the bluntness of your words, his hand brushing accidentally to your inner thigh that it makes you exhale loudly. “I just put it in?”

The comical gaze he's fixed on you makes you snicker, humming a tune while he barely blinks.

“Well you fuck with me it for awhile, but yes, Koo. You put it in me as the first step.”

Jungkook blushes and he avoids mulling over the stupid question he's just asked that should've been rhetoric by now because for fuck's sake, the last time the two of you were in bed, he did eat the cum out of you while you were still in your shorts.

He wastes no time and inserts his finger into your dripping hole, seeing his finger disappear seamlessly, engulfed in your tight warm walls that the sight makes the lump in his throat hard to swallow.

The intrusion of his middle finger as he plunges the entirety of it makes you throw your head back at the sensation you haven't quite achieved in the past few months by yourself, clenching around the digit in bliss.

“B-but you’re so tight."

He stutters when you clench around his finger once more, experimenting in pulling it out until only the tip of his digit is in you and plunges it back again, a heedy moan escaping you with no remorse. “Fuck.”

You lift your hips to sink down on his finger and it makes him realize that he's sat frozen at the thought of how your pussy is so tight and he finds it overwhelmingly pleasurable even if it's just his finger in you, finding it within him to come to his senses and thrust it upwards when you didn’t expect it.

“Imagine it’s your cock in me,” you mutter in between moans when he experiments with ramming his digit into you faster, withdrawing a fucked-out whine when he unintentionally hooks it upward. “Feels like this but it’s much much better.”

Jungkook whines from your words alone because the thought itself makes him salivate, adding another digit into your pussy as he looks down to how it stretches and accommodates them snuggle, pointing them curved inwards that you instantly rub yourself around his fingers in small circles.

He keeps focused as he tries to draw more of the sounds you give him, egging him on to fuck you harder with his fingers because the way you moan his name is a reward within itself.

“You ready?”

In his selfless attempt at pleasuring you, Jungkook didn't realize that your hand's holding his wrist in place to keep it still, not even sure at all if he's made you cum already because his head's clouded with pleasure from giving you your own.

His eyes are dilated and focused entirely on you, watching your every move as you ease off from his fingers, holding his digits like he's never seen them before and sees them glistening with your essence — and Jungkook finds himself popping them into his mouth, moaning in ecstasy at a full taste of you.

The sight's enough to make your eyes widen, clenching around nothing when you see your boyfriend lapping up at his fingers to taste every last bit of you as if you aren't in front of him.

“You’re too precious,” you kiss the corner of his mouth that’s glossy with the taste of you and he hums in contentment with it, eyes shifting open when you pull away and you stand up from your seat on his thighs.

“Where are you going?”

He doesn't hide the panic in his voice at all and you want him to get rid of it entirely because you're not going anywhere, looking back at him as he gets back to his sense on how you're literally just five feet away from him.

“This is the part where you come with me,” you nudge him with a tilt of your head, a blush dusting his cheeks because he panicked for no reason. He stands up attentively, walking to where you stand right beside the chair you've just stood up on minutes ago. “Sit.”

Jungkook doesn't complain but he finds himself confused while he complies either way, looking back to the bed that he thought would be in use just like all the prior knowledge he's seen in the media he's consumed.

“I’ll ride you first,” you say and he effectively catches his attention, head whipping up to you. “Told you I was gonna take care of you, right?”

It's only then that it clicks in Jungkook's mind that he's sitting on a chair in front of the mirror because you're gonna ride him, the dots connecting as he's never realized that his impromptu request of you taking his virginity would end up in front of the very thing that got him coming over to your dorm today in the first place.

He's excited and he can't understand why you can't just ride him right now, your eyes flickering as if you're looking for something that he just now realizes.

“Are you looking for a condom?”

“Yeah,” you nod with amused eyes, pleasantly surprised that Jungkook noticed your silent search and even more surprised when he pipes up right after.

“I have one.”

“Since when did you carry around condoms?”

The giggle leaves you before you even realize it and Jungkook doesn't even flinch, the words leaving him determinedly and seriously that it makes him smile at the end of it.

“Since you gave me a blowjob.”

He watches your face register confusion until it turns into genuine laughter, making his mouth drop open in faux offense because you seem to not believe him. “I’m not kidding! I thought I should be ready at any moment after that.”

"You're insufferable. Where is it?"

His own chest rises in laughter when you speak in between peals of giggles, pointing to the pocket of his shorts as you walk to retrieve them.

“I went home hard that night because I literally couldn’t stop thinking. A-and I made Jimin drive me to the grocery as soon as I got home,” he winces in recollection and it makes you throw your head back when you come back to standing beside him, holding a silver packet between your fingers that his eyes glint at.

“No you did not,” you gasp in shock for what he probably made Jimin go through, although not entirely surprised because he's told you countless times that his roommate acts as a brazen older brother for him.

“I made him buy me my condoms because I was too shy to do it myself.”

“What a friend Jimin is.”

You chuckle as you put your leg over Jungkook's, getting acquainted his thighs and dangerously near his cock that it makes his reply weaken in anticipation while you're still dazed in laughter.

“You should hear when he asked me my size and I didn’t know how to determine it.”

“Oh my god,” you remark once you visualize the scene of Jimin asking your boyfriend his size in condoms, the laughter dying down as Jungkook's chest is frozen still. “I’ll kiss him on the cheek next time that I see him because he’s a saint.”

“Now don’t do that.”

He scoffs at the tiny reminder you set for yourself, rolling his eyes that later narrow when he sees a long line of your spit droop down to his member that already so wet, already slick and leaking even if you've barely done anything.

He watches you tear the packaging with nimble fingers and it reminds him how he's just practically seconds away of feeling and filling you, watching you pinch the tip of the condom before snugly fitting it on his cock.

“You take care of me so good.”

Jungkook mumbles and he says it not because you've just put on a condom for him, but because he feels the thought flash in neon lights on his head and he feels compelled to say nothing but the truth.

You kiss him on the lips for it, his eyes shutting close in sweetness when you press one more peck before pulling away.

“Tell me when it gets too much for you.”

Jungkook could never anticipate the sheer euphoria he feels at the back of his spine when you sink yourself on him achingly slow, head thrown back at the gush of newfound tightness.

His tip prods in you and once he looks down to see where your pussy stretches around him, it makes his eyes roll back sinfully, mouth parted open.

“So fucking tight.”

You sink down completely on him and that's when you feel the fullness of him that you've been craving for, stretching you into a pleasurable ache that could only be fixed as you have more of him into your pussy.

“You fill me up so good.”

“Oh my god,” Jungkook moans as he feels you on the hilt of his cock, unconsciously bucking up as he maxes out his length into your pussy that makes you shudder.

“That’s the spot, baby,” you whine at his pulsating length and he mewls attentively at the return of your endearment for him, wanting to milk out your sounds as much as he could at the moment.

He's stuck on how to do because he's sure he could just sit here and cum from your warmth alone, his thoughts being interrupted when you whisper to his ears in a definite tone.

“Sit pretty while I fuck myself on you.”

You suddenly bounce on his cock and Jungkook’s tummy clenches at the feeling of you and it shows with how he moans pornographically, your warm walls clenching around him for an even tighter fit that it suffocates him in the best way possible.

His balls feel full and Jungkook has his arms around your naked waist tightly and possessively, almost as if you’d slip away when you’re holding onto his shoulders just as tight.

“You love that? Love it when I bounce up and down your cock?”

Your voice is desperately on-edge and has the slightest hint of a mock, making your boyfriend's stomach tighten as he hits an intimately soft part inside you that makes you moan just as instantly, his closer position of him leaning against his chair making his cock graze your g-spot.

“I love it so much please.”

Jungkook's overwhelmed with pleasure but it's just not enough because he wants all of it, adjusting his grip on you in a way that he can easily lift you from underneath your thighs, bouncing you down even harder as he watches your pussy embrace him completely.

His neediness rubs a part of your ego you didn't even know you possessed, sucking a hickey on his neck and he obediently gives your more access, his eyes shut close in ecstasy.

Jungkook looks beautiful underneath you as you fuck yourself onto him but it's just not enough for you, wanting to see him in entirety.

“Open your eyes, baby,” you graze your nails on the length of his spine that makes him whine in sensitivity, eyes bursting open. You briefly stop riding him that it makes him whine at the loss of contact, bending backwards to grab his glasses that's perched on your vanity. “Wear your glasses for me.”

He blinks at your through thick lashes when you put them on him, holding by the chin to kiss his jaw as you make him look at the mirror behind you, the reflection of you turned against it while he's facing the glass, legs open and cock inside you as he realizes that he gets to see the entirety of you in this way.

“Look at how pretty you are while you’re fucking me.”

It's the last thing he hears before you bounce on his cock harder than you ever did, throwing your hips circling around him into the mix that it pushes him closer to his impending climax.

“Moaning for me prettily too. Aren’t you a treat, hm?”

Jungkook's vocal and it's never been lost on you that he tells you exactly how he feels, no shame in being loud because it's exactly what you make him feel.

His eyes are open and his eyebrows are raised in bliss, mouth parting open as you leave open-mouthed kisses on his neck that makes him whine even harder.

His eyeglasses were barely at the brim of fogging but now they're slightly frosted, making you wipe at them in hurry to see how your boyfriend's eyes are fixed on nothing but you at the moment but that's when you see — the whole reason why they were starting to fog up anyways.

“Are you crying?” you wipe on his tears from underneath his glasses and you slow down your pace, whining in place when he pinches your ass before ramming into you from his position below because you stopped moving.

“I’m crying because you make me feel so good.”

Jungkook admits immediately and he only became conscious of the tears on his cheeks when you pointed it out, unaware of them altogether because he's so stuck in his cloud of pleasure that nothing else mattered besides you and the high you give him.

You grind on him as soon as he bottoms out, keeping yourself pressed to him that drawls a needy stutter of your name in an instant.

“I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna-“ he rams extra harder into you and grinds his hips in in small circles, “-cum! I’m gonna fucking-“

Jungkook moans the loudest you've ever heard from him as he shoots his release into the condom, feeling you riding out his high that makes him sound even more guttural.

He cums loads, knowing that he has it in him that his own high gives you your own not shortly after, the extra warmth enveloping his member that makes him whine in overstimulation.

He's sweaty with his head tilted back in the chair, his hair damp and his neck wet as he hears you chuckle, snapping him back to reality as he pulls you to his sweaty chest while he’s still inside of you.

“Hmm, are you okay? Do you want some water?” you check up on him amidst being in quite of a pant yourself. “I have some Gatorade in the fridge, I think. It’s for my next game but you can have it.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, pinching your side at the sound of you teasing him as you've literally just finished giving him his first and most mind-blowing orgasm he's ever had.

“Again?”

He toothily grins as he exhales, making you roll your eyes while he waits in patience.

“Catch your breath first, Jungkook.”

“I am, I am! Give me like two minutes and after that, we can fuck again, right?”

The transparent anticipation on his tone makes you coo at him, scratching his hair that makes him hum in contentment.

“Do you have any more condoms?”

What was supposed to be an innocent and genuine question makes Jungkook suddenly straighten up on his seat, almost making you fall backwards if he hadn't secured a hand on the small of your back.

His eyes widen comically, his cheeks reddening in recollection.

“When Jimin drove me to the grocery that night I uh, I used my debit card because all the bills I had were too big for the regular packs.”

“Jungkook...” you mumble his name and then could he hear the tone that basically inquired him on what the hell did he do, making him sheepishly look at the ceiling to avoid your gaze.

“A-and I didn’t want the cashier to hate me, nor Jimin because I made him buy them, because it was night and the cash registers were already probably collected and they didn’t have change.”

“Jungkook, oh my god...”

You should’ve noticed the way Jungkook’s backpack crinkles, or why the front pocket must be bulging even if he explains that he barely puts stuff in it because it's easily the most stealable portion of anyone's bag.

It explains why Jin once thought that he was hiding a tinfoil lunch in there one time when he walked into your dorm, not finding any reason for him to pack a lunch when you automatically make an extra portion for him when he comes over.

You make Jungkook look at you and his cheeks are bulging as he tries to hide the laughter from seeing you look beyond shocked at him, knowing that your boyfriend's considerate but not to this level.

“I bought a whole tray.”

.

.

.

and at last here it is!! stem koo's first time :D we've finally come to this peak besties omg if you've been here sometime when the chronological series was on-going, you'd know how this moment is ultimately monumental <3

as always, lmk what you think!! i love answering asks :D what do you want to see from the lunchbox lovers next? send them here <3

[helliontherapscallion]

Lost Time (The Ashes of Yourself Part 2)

Part 1     Part 3    Part 4

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: mentions of suicide attempts/ideation, swearing, daddy/abandonment issues

Word count: 3,879

You and Techno stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, both of you not knowing what to say to each other. So much was left unsaid between you two throughout your childhoods and the past four years that you didn’t know where to even start. You supposed a simple ‘how are you?’ would suffice, but that’d be too simple, far too simple for not talking to each other in literal years. But you couldn’t just say ‘hey, I’m incredibly jealous that you are Dad’s favorite and I totally didn’t send you my suicide note that you may or may not have seen’, that’d be way too much trauma dumping for your taste. You couldn’t think of anything else to say, so you chose to sheepishly grin at him and awkwardly wave. 

“Heh uh, how’re you…?” Smooth, (y/n). Real smooth.

You watched as he furrowed his brows slightly before he hesitantly gave you a small wave with his gargantuan pink hand. “...I’m doin alright. You?”

“I’ve seen better days.”

“Right…”

An awkward silence fell over you two as you glanced down at your bloodied hands. “Sorry bout the blood. It won’t really stop until I stop moving.”

He shrugged, “that’s fine. I’ve bled everywhere in this house. Nothing that won’t come out.”

“Alright then.”

You wanted to crawl into a pit and just let yourself die, you hated this awkward atmosphere you created. Your mind scrambled to find something to say to the man other than a stupid ‘alright then’. You haven’t even seen him in four years, surely you would be able to find something to talk about. You were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard him clear his throat.

“I uh got some clothes for you. They’re Tommy’s old clothes from when he stayed with me during his exile. I don’t know if they’ll fit, but I’m guessing that they’re better than the wet ones you’re wearing.”

When he saw you wince when you tried to stand up, he rushed to your side and helped you stand up. You could feel the backs of your knees start to drip blood. “Do you have any spare lava?”

His hands paused on your upper arms, “yes, but why would you need it?”

“It kinda heals me. I mean, just enough that my skin stops cracking open and bleeding everywhere.”

“Why don’t we just take you to a lava lake in the Nether?”

You glanced out the window at the flurry of snowflakes falling to the ground and being whisked off to other places by the harsh wind. You shuttered, remembering what it felt like to be fully engulfed in water. “Water hurts. I don’t want to get burnt out again.”

“Right, I’ll go get a few buckets full. Stay here,” with that, he ushered you to sit in front of the fire once again and draped the large blanket over your shoulders again. You could hear him move to another room and rustle around what you presumed was a chest before you heard his heavy footsteps walking behind the couch. You could hear the billowing of the wind when he opened the door before it was cut off by the door closing. 

You leaned forward and put your hands in the fire, relishing in the feeling of the flames melting away the charred skin slightly. The flames licked and caressed your dark skin slowly giving you more feeling back in the damaged tissue. As you were turning your hands over the flames, you thought about your voluntary near death experience just about an hour before. 

The thought of the ocean finally taking you and dragging your charcoaled corpse into its depths never to be seen again was alluring. After feeling the intense pain and the suffocation that came with chucking yourself into the ocean when you’re part blaze was definitely a deterrent, but you just had to push through the pain. This was something you’d dreamt of doing since you were fifteen and you’d be damned if you were going to let pain stop you. 

You know you felt sort of… grateful that Philza saved you when you were laying on that beach, but now that you had time to reflect on what happened, you felt resentful that he did. Of course he’d take away the only good thing you had going on in your life, he was full of audacity and impudence when you were a kid. He hasn’t changed at all much to your disappointment. You shouldn’t have expected him to change in the first place, that was just something that you knew in the back of your mind would never happen. A large part of you craved his approval and affection, but you knew that wouldn’t happen. 

Your thoughts were cut off by someone pulling you back gently from the fire. “I got the lava. Uh, I can set up an area for you downstairs with netherrack.”

“No, you don’t have to, I just have to put it on my joints for a few minutes.”

“Don’t you want to, uh, fully cover yourself?”

“I can hold off until the snowstorm dies down. It’s nothing too major.” You dipped your hands into the large bucket of lava and sighed in relief, “that’s much better, thank you Technoblade.”

“It’s no problem, but you literally just almost died. How is that something that’s ‘not major’?”

“I’m used to… well, this,” you took a hand out of the lava and gestured to your stone covered arm. “It’s just more than I’m used to. Kinda uncomfortable, but I’ll live.”

“What do you mean you’re used to it? You don’t live by water do you?”

“Yeah, I live by the ocean so I’m bound to get a little charred. No big deal,” you took your hands out of the bucket, shook the excess lava off, and stuck your elbows in. You looked at your now dully glowing hand and wiggled your fingers. There were more blackened scars etched into your skin on your joints, but you didn’t care.

“Heh? Why the hell would you live by an ocean?” 

You wove your hands nonchalantly in the air, “I always liked how the water looked when the sun set. The way that the pinks and yellows would reflect and bounce off the waves? Breathtaking.” You also lived by the ocean so that you had an easy way out of living, but you weren’t about to tell him that. Too much trauma dumping.

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” 

“Have you ever seen the sun setting over the ocean?” You rose a brow at the piglin hybrid sitting on the couch. 

“Well, no but-”

“Then you can’t knock it till you try it. I’ll take you to my old place after I can take a proper lava bath. You won’t regret it, promise.”

“Still, you’re literally made of fire. Look what happened to you… Er, speaking of, how’d this happen?” He looked you up and down inquisitively with his red eyes. 

You sighed as you took your elbows out of the lava and dipped your feet into the buckets. “...Do you still have your communicator?”

You watched as his floppy ear flicked and his eyebrow rose at you, “...Yes, but I only talk to Dad. Why, did you leave me a message?” Before he could stand up to grab his communicator, you stopped him with a hand on his shin. “No, I didn’t. I was just wondering.”

He didn’t look convinced, “...tell me what happened. Were you pushed?”

Your shoulders tensed up against your will before you forced them to relax. “I fell in, got too close to the edge.”

“You’re so lucky Dad was already at your house, you could’ve died. How could you be so careless?” 

You only responded with a blaze-like frustrated grunt that rumbled in the back of your throat and removed your feet from the buckets. Picking up one of the buckets, you took a swig of the lava. The viscous liquid crawled slowly down your throat and soothed your burned esophagus and stomach. Clearing your throat, you looked over to your estranged brother. He was looking at you with disgust, his snout scrunched up slightly and his mouth twisted into a grimace.

“What?” Your voice sounded less strained and scratchy. Overall, it felt better to speak.

“Your- your feet were just in there. That’s disgusting.”

You blew out a puff of smoke and watched as it drifted to the ceiling, “my feet were just in water, remember? They’re clean. And besides, I swallowed and inhaled a lot of water so I needed it. I mean, my lungs are still stone, but there’s nothing I can do about it except wait it out.”

“That’s still gross. Wait, can you not drink water?”

“No- well technically I can, but it hurts. Gimme one sec.”

He was quiet as he watched you take a deep breath and dunk your entire head into the lava bucket you weren’t drinking from. His youngest sibling was… strange, but he found that he enjoyed your company so far. The only company he’s had at his cabin recently was his brothers and dad, which burned him out slightly with their big personalities. You were as awkward as he was and that was refreshing. But he couldn’t help but feel guilty after hearing the majority of yours and Philza’s argument. Now that he thought back on his childhood, the majority of his memories were of him and Philza. He didn’t have many negative memories past his adoption, and that was because he spent all of his time adventuring with Philza. He did everything with his adoptive father and absolutely nothing with his siblings. He knew nothing about Wilbur, well Ghostbur now, or Tommy until they stayed with him during Tommy’s exile. He’s never talked to you or spent any time with you before, and he wanted to get to know who you were. He wanted to make up for lost time.

After you were under for a while, he started to worry that you drowned yourself. Just as he was about to pull your head out of the bucket with a hand close to your forehead, you slowly removed your head from the lava and held it over the bucket so that the excess would drip off from you. Panting slightly, you sat up fully and wiped your eyes clean of the lava. You could hear some rustling in front of you so you opened your eyes to see your brother holding out clothes to you. 

“Go change, I’ll make dinner. There’s a spare room upstairs, second door on the left. You can stay there for now.”

You hesitated before you took the clothes from him, “I… Thank you Techno.” You weren’t expecting him to be so kind to you, he was known as the blood god after all. He was ruthless when he battled, leaving thousands without families. You saw him a couple of times when you were younger coming home with Philza covered in blood with a malicious expression on his face. That always made you try to avoid him; not that you had any difficulty doing that, he was never home. 

He curtly nodded before he turned to walk into where you assumed was the kitchen. You trudged up the stairs and tiredly drug your feet down the hallway towards the second door on the left. When you opened the door, you were pleasantly surprised. You didn’t know what you were expecting to see, but it certainly wasn’t this. It was simplistic, yet it looked like a professional decorated it.

The bed looked incredibly comfortable and soft with a large white comforter draped over the top. At both sides of the headboard, twin chests sat underneath double hung windows with wooden frames that matched the spruce planks that made up the walls. You were sure that once the relentless snowstorm stopped you would be able to see a spruce forest in the distance. Lanterns hung at the far corners of the room opposite of where the bed sat. Glancing at the opposite wall, you saw a framed portrait of a nether fortress. You assumed that it was the nether fortress on the other side of his portal. If you squinted, you could see orange specks that you assumed were blazes. 

After you got dressed, you were pleasantly surprised to see that Tommy’s clothes fit you. Despite the slight bagginess of the pants and the sleeves of the jumper hanging halfway past your hands, they fit relatively well. Humming in satisfaction, you hung up your wet clothes to dry and made your way downstairs following the savory smell of cooking meat and potatoes. Your mouth watered at the smell, it’s been a while since you’ve eaten an actual meal. You’d just been surviving on an apple a day with the occasional potato when you had some leftover from making homemade vodka. 

You walked into the kitchen and looked at your brother standing at the stove, the stove looked miniscule compared to his seven and a half foot tall form. That man was a giant and you wouldn’t be lying if his height alone didn’t intimidate you slightly. If he wanted, he could grab your entire face with his hand. Various light pink scars decorated his muscular arms that poked out from the rolled up sleeves of his blouse. He wasn’t wearing his huge fluffy cloak, instead it was draped over the back of one of the chairs at the large wooden dining table. Every part of your body wanted to take it, wrap yourself up into a blaze hybrid burrito, and take the best nap you’ve ever had. His corseted form moved gracefully around the kitchen grabbing various spices and herbs. 

You saw his ears twitch before he moved his massive head  to look back at you, you could see the corners of his mouth quirk up ever so slightly. “They fit you, that’s good. Take a seat, dinner's almost ready.” With that, you took a seat at the table. You felt like a child again, the table was huge, the tabletop coming up to your lower chest. The table and chairs were made of what looked like dark oak wood. The wood was carved intricately with complex patterns etched into the frame and the back of the chairs. 

You eyed the cape draped over the chair next to you. It was a deep royal red with black speckled white fur lining the border of the fabric. If you looked closely, you could see that the pendant that connected the two ends was made of gold and had a diamond encrusted center. It looked incredibly soft, it would be so easy to just reach out with a finger to pet it. Your brother wouldn’t notice if you did it quick enough so that you could touch it before he turned around. When you gathered the courage to touch the cloak, you reached out with a slightly shaking hand to pet the fur, watching Technoblade the entire time. 

Everytime he would move to grab a spice, you would quickly retract your hand and try to act as innocent as possible only to try again after he didn’t turn around again. Just as you finally touched the fabric, you were in awe with how soft it was. It was like petting a newborn puppy but better. You truly couldn’t put into words how soft it was. 

You were snapped out of your trance by a small chuckle, “soft isn’t it?” You jumped, quickly retracting your hand and smacking your head against the back of your chair in the process. You could feel your cheeks heat up more than they usually did, you could see the glow of orange intensify at the bottom of your vision. Your brother was staring at you with amusement, his mouth quirked up in a small smile. He was carrying two plates full of steak and potatoes, putting one in front of you before walking to sit opposite of you. 

“Uh, yeah. It- it’s really soft.” 

“I got it from a nation thousands of blocks from here, it wasn’t easy to get. Those guards were not happy to see me stealing from their king.” He chuckled before he started to eat his food. 

“Is that where you got the crown too?”

“No, Dad got it for me as a going away present when I moved out… You’ve grown up so much since I’ve last seen you. I remember when you barely reached my waist and now you’re only about a foot and a half shorter than me.” 

“You’ve gotten taller also, more scars too.”

“You as well. Are all those from water?” 

“Yeah, it only scars when I crack the stone on my skin though.”

“Ouch. So like you get scars whenever you move?”

You shrugged, “basically.” Turning to your plate, you struggled with not wolfing down the entire thing in one go. You didn’t want to have your brother get the impression you had bad table manners. Wilbur raised you better than that. When you took a bite of the stake, you moaned slightly at the taste. Quickly swallowing your mouthful, you looked at your brother with wide eyes. “Ender Tech, where’d you learn to cook? It’s delicious.”

He gave you a small bashful smile and shrugged, “when you’ve been living alone for this long you pick up on a few things.”

“I’ve been living alone for about a year now and I still can’t cook.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, “well what do you eat then?”

“Just an apple a day, maybe a potato too if I have any to spare.”

He narrowed his eyes, “how the hell are you still alive? That’s hardly enough.”

You blankly stared at your plate, “I’ve been asking myself that everyday, things aren’t… amazing living alone. Uh, let’s talk about happier things. I wanna get to know you.”

He stared at you for a while before he sighed, “fine, but we’re talking about this later. How do you wanna go about getting to know each other?”

“It’s gonna be hard cuz we have like seventeen years to catch up on, but I think we can do it. Let’s… let’s play the favorites game. We take turns naming a category and we both say what our favorite thing in that is. I’ll start, what’s your favorite type of mythology? Like Greek, Egyptian, Norse…”

His eyes lit up at the mention of mythology, “I like Greek mythology. I can talk for hours about it.”

“Nice! I personally like Norse mythology better, we have to exchange myths sometime.”

“My turn, what’s your favorite myth?”

You matched his excitement, “I really like the Ragnarok myth. The fact that the gods know of their impending doom and destruction and are actively working towards it is- is just really intriguing. What’s yours?”

You both abandoned your meals as your conversation diverged into telling each other various myths from your respective favorite mythologies. Your favorite ones he told you were the tales of Orpheus and Eurydice, Persephone and Hades, and Psyche and Eros. You were a sucker for romance even if the thought of you being in a relationship was something you were uncomfortable thinking about. Romance stories just made you happy to see people finding comfort and fulfillment in each other. You told him more about Ragnarok, the creation of Mjolnir, and the murder of Baldur. 

Before you two knew it, hours passed by. Your untouched dinners grew cold and the clock struck midnight startling both of you out of your story telling. You both looked at the grandfather clock then back at each other in shock, “we’ve been talking for four hours Tech.”

“Yeah, we did. It- it was nice talking about mythology. Usually people get bored when I talk about it.”

You rolled your eyes, “Ender, I know. Why don’t they find it as interesting as we do? It’s been a while since I’ve had someone to talk to, it’s nice.”

“We better go to bed, we can just eat a bigger breakfast tomorrow before we take you to the Nether and your house. You probably want to sleep in your own bed.”

You laughed nervously, “yeah about that… I don’t really have a bed anymore. Or an actual house for that matter.”

“The fuck happened?”

“I may have burnt it down accidentally.”

He was silent for a bit before he looked at you suspiciously. “Are you gonna burn my house down?” And there’s the thing you hated most when you told people of your lineage and abilities. They always believe that you’re a being of destruction and inferno. They always grow to not trust you around them or their possessions fearing you would burn them to a crisp. You cursed your biological parents daily for giving you these genes.

You shrunk in on yourself slightly, “no, I’d never do that to you. I’m in control as long as I keep my emotions in check. Can’t get too excited, scared, or happy. I just can’t do anything extreme and my temperature stays low.” 

He grunted, nodding in satisfaction. “We probably should get to sleep soon if we wanna get stuff done before the family reunion.”

“I forgot about that… Have you met the kid Phil’s gonna adopt?”

He drew in a long breath into his nose and huffed it out of his mouth. “Yeah, his name’s Ranboo. And he’s actually only about half a year younger than you are. I don’t know how to feel about him yet, but he seems like he has good intentions.”

You drug a hand through the flames idly flickering on your head, “is Phil seriously gonna adopt another kid? I don’t think it’s a good idea for him.”

“That’s what I thought, I don’t need any more orphans running around here. You, Tommy, and Wilbur are more than enough. We can talk more about this in the morning.”

With that, you picked up your plates and took them to the kitchen. Before you could turn on the water faucet, a hand on your shoulder stopped you. “I’ll get it. You can’t be around this stuff.”

“A little water won’t hurt me. It’s the least I could do, you made dinner.” 

“A little water will hurt you. Go to bed, I’ll handle this. It’s only two dishes.”

You opened your mouth to argue with him, but it snapped shut as soon as he gave you a warning look. “Go to bed (y/n).”

“...Aright, thank you for doing that. I’ll see ya in the morning.”

He grunted as you walked out of the kitchen, up the stairs, and into the guest room. You walked straight to the bed and plopped down onto the surface. You felt sort of bad that you were rubbing soot off onto the white comforter from your still charcoaled skin, but it was nothing that you couldn’t clean in the morning. The bed was extremely comfortable, a stark contrast to your old one. Your old one had lumps and some exposed bedsprings sticking out of the fabric. With the weight of the heavy comforter and the plush mattress, you were out like a light.

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[apocalypticgargoyle]

Hi I need to ask a favor of you... Can we get like,,, the reader trying to set cc!dream up with a friend of theirs and he actually likes the reader so we get like dream trying to say that he likes the reader. Idk if this makes sense but I just want a dramatic like "ARE YOU DUMB" moment. Thank u, I'll exit the stage.

Okay so long story short, I had a series about Dre that I was going to write (like a million years ago even before e!k) and I tuned up the confession scene because it fit with the request. Idk idk. It was back when I was having my romance novel phase. N E WAY. happy reading :) ♡ g

𝐄𝐆𝐎 & 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍. ♘ 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

± warnings: language, angst, being so overdramatic, mentions of rivals to lovers, being in a shower, kinda cringe ngl

Dream eyed you over his glass from across the table, his legs long enough that he was invading your space beneath the surface. His green eyes burned into you, which you attempted to let roll off your shoulders innocently. Your friend was talking up Sapnap, completely destroying your plan put in place. It seemed like Dream could tell what you were up to as well, and by the look he was sending your way and the tension in his shoulders, you could tell he wasn’t in the mood for it. Sapnap asked the girl beside you how she was doing in her classes and before he could boast about his own achievements, you butted in. “You know, Clay’s ranked fourth in our sociology class.” Dream rolled his eyes as your friend’s brow perked at your statement.

She cracked a grin in his direction. “Oh really? You some kind of a genius?” She joked, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear.

Dream chewed the inside of his cheek and folded his hands together on the table, uncomfortable now that you had shifted the subject matter to him. “Uh, I wouldn’t say that. It’s an intro course so…�� he mumbled. She hummed in response and he wet his lips.

You jumped into the small bit of silence. “Come on, don’t downplay! He’s also helped me pass calculus last year,” you boasted. Dream shut his eyes briefly as if it were taking every ounce of his being not to scold you. You didn’t care.

“That’s awesome! I’m actually a mathematics major,” your friend eased. “Maybe if you are some kind of genius you could help me figure out homeomorphically irreducible trees sometime,” she jousted with a small wink. Dream chuckled and you thought maybe… finally… they were clicking. You knew you were right, you knew they were a perfect match. Dream just had to put forth a bit more effort.

Dream’s eyes flashed to you again briefly, as if a symbol of telling you he’d kill you for pushing this. “Oh, I don’t know anything about math really, but Sapnap knows a lot of the math professors,” he turned over with a soft smile, sending your friend back into Sapnap’s metaphorical tract. The two started rambling to each other and Dream shot you a dirty look. “Cut it out,” he bit, barely loud enough for you to even hear. You took this as a challenge.

Another round of drinks came to the table, Dream had yet to completely finish his first as it seemed like something was weighing on his mind. You had gotten into the habit of picking up every subtle tick he had and picking at it. You silently listened to the conversation between Nick and your friend as it wound down, giving you the opportunity to strike up something else about Dream. “So Clay, what was your beer pong average last semester?” You asked, taking a sip from your straw innocently.

He sent you a deadpan expression, but Sapnap answered for him. “Oh, trust me, Clay’s the one you want on your team at every frat party,” he praised. You knew how much your friend liked the whole idea of winning pointless party games.

“I think it’s time I walk you home,” Dream mumbled after standing before you could answer. You followed him out of the restaurant, sending your friend and Sapnap an awkward grin. They had barely noticed anyway; too caught up in their own conversation. You jogged a bit to catch up to Dream as he shoved his fists in his pockets. “What the hell is wrong with you?” He grumbled.

You furrowed your brows, nudging his arm playfully. “What do you mean? I’m trying to get you laid!” You chided. He rolled his eyes again. “Loosen up! Come on, she’s pretty isn’t she.”

Dream sighed deeply. “Of course she’s pretty. Just quit with meddling in my sex life,” he hissed.

You laughed mockingly. “You are so tightly wound!” He pushed the door open to your building. You could tell you were pushing his buttons as he pursed his lips instead of firing something back at you. “You’re such a killjoy,” you joshed, pinching his side.

He swatted your hand away, attempting to ignore you. “Quit.”

“Fine, whatever. Go home and make fast with your hand.” That was it---the last push.

Dream grabbed your arm and yanked you down the hall behind him. You could practically see the steam rolling off his shoulders as he turned a corner and you began to grow tense. You knew he'd never hurt you but the sheer anxiety of what he was going to do next weighed on your conscience. Had you gone too far this time? You'd pushed him past his limit before, but he'd never taken you with him when he needed to remove himself from the situation.

You were shocked as he threw open the door to the communal showers, your brows knitting together in confusion as you began to claw at his hand. "Clay, stop! What are you doing?" You gritted, struggling against his grip. He threw open one of the stall doors and tossed you inside, your back hit the linoleum tiling with a quiet thump and you glared at him with scolding eyes as if to bite ‘don't you dare touch me’ into his skin.

He pursed his lips as if his anger was threatening to boil over and he turned the knob behind you, instantly soaking you and your clothes in freezing water. You painstakingly jumped for the dial and he grabbed your arm again, pulling you inches from his face. "You need to cool the fuck down. I'm serious!" He snapped.

Your eyes felt like they were going to pop out of your head in disbelief at the audacity he had. His jaw tensed as he glared at your features and you drew his arm closer, turning on your heel so he replaced you in the water. His reaction was subtle to the dowsing; instead, he released his grip on you. "What the hell is your problem!" You yelled. This was unknowingly becoming your breaking point. You hadn't woken up that day and realized today is the day I choose violence but Dream's medieval form of communicating with you was striking a hidden nerve.

"My problem? MY PROBLEM?" He let out an exasperated sigh, turning slightly to twist the knob for hot water before laying into you. Why he didn't just turn off the water was unbeknownst to you. "My problem is you!"

You rolled your eyes heavily. "Me?" You tsked at him. "Why don't you get a fucking life-"

"Are you really that fucking stupid?" He bit. Your disgusted look you made sure to exaggerate twisted something behind his eyes. The shower began to produce steam over his shoulders. Dream's hair had begun hanging in short ringlets around his ears. His long-sleeved t-shirt clung to his body enough that you could see every dip in his chest. Every breath he drew in to calm himself down rippled through his silhouette. In the slightest way, it seemed as if the dragon was finally baring his soft underbelly to you.

His hands balled into fists at your look of disbelief at him calling you dumb. He groaned deeply, bringing his palms to his eyes and gritting his teeth. He then pushed his fingers into his wet hair, plastering it back from framing his face. Dream's bright eyes studied you with his features set in stone. "How could you not realize?" He let out a short exhale, his hands seemingly gripping for his own thoughts as they moved with his search of words. "I know you aren't as aloof as you put off. I know you know that I-" he stopped himself short with an aggressive shrug of his shoulders. It was almost humoring to see him standing like a wet dog in front of you and at a loss for words. That big head of his was proving to be a difficult landscape for him to form sentences. "... That I-" he bit into his lip, frustration settling into his brow.

You rolled your eyes again, your wet clothes feeling uncomfortable as they began to shrink against certain parts of your body. The steam from the water was enveloping the two of you in the small space, but your close stance kept a breath of clearance in your visions. "Spit it out, Clay. Obviously, I'm too dumb to put two and two together. You're gonna have to man up and get over it," you snapped and his eyes flashed up to the ceiling.

He gritted his teeth again. "Fuck. What am I trying to say?" He hissed. The gears in his head were beginning to rust with overstimulation, and you could tell. He was hesitant as if debating what would be his next move. The tall man before you was slowly unraveling into unarticulated emotions. The minuscule thought tugged at your mind that Dream was attempting to tell you he felt something for you. It was oddly satisfying to juxtapose your ill-fated seven minutes in heaven experience when you had met him with the close, wet atmosphere you were in now. Even back then Dream couldn't figure out what to say.

He swallowed, his anger had melded into something less aggressive and more inwardly scorning. "I care about you," he blurted, his voice coming out uneven. He wasn't nervous and it seemed as if he'd practiced this in the mirror yet was crumbling under the pressure of you actually standing before him. "I care about you," he repeated, his face still tense and severe.

You were taken aback by his simple statement, awaiting his next move. You didn't dare arrest your eyes from his, your mind blurring about what to say to his confession. You knew that was big coming from him at the way it tugged at your heartstrings, making you blush in the ferocity of the steaming stall. The beat of silence was broken as he took a step toward you, taking your face into his large hands in a gentle gesture. His fingers threatened to snake into your hair as his thumb traced the bend in your jaw. Droplets of water fell off of him to splash against your sopping wet clothing, the warmth of his figure nearly pressed against yours sending rushes of goosebumps across the plain of your skin.

His eyes searched yours as he hesitated, as if savoring being close enough to taste you, yet the anticipation of sealing the fated and quarrelsome air between the two of you with his kiss was nearly too unrealistic for his mind to comprehend. The pad of his thumb brushed lightly against the flesh of your bottom lip as if he were wondering if the shade was their true color, all of his movements completely foiling the way he'd always handled you.

His look of desire and unsteadiness gave him the appearance of an explorer wandering around a foreign planet with the consistency of practice but restraint. You'd heard other girls talking about being with Dream---a fumbling night of drunken fun or a quick use and jading---but the Dream standing before you now seemed to be his own breed. You let your mind flicker to the fantasy that maybe the boy itching to mark you was a figment of him reserved and stocked only for you.

You found yourself leaning on your toes as his eyes began to close, drawing you in with his subtle caress. The water thundered down against him as his towering frame shielded you from the shower, the sound of its stream bouncing off the floor and your matted articles of clothing mixing with Dream's soft breath. As he pressed his lips against yours, it seemed like he was hesitant as if you'd snatch yourself away from his cradling like you always had, but sure enough, your sneakers were glued to the floor beneath you. Wherever you were going in the next few minutes would be to follow his lead.

His fingers dipped into your locks, bringing you deeper into his gesture of passion. Your mind clicked into the reality of the situation as your shoulders sank into a sense of calmness. Your hands found purchase around his waist, wanting to reassure him that you were reading his actions as your fingers traced the lines and dips in his back.

He kissed you with a needy passiveness that bled into the echoing taste of mint, bitter coffee, and the soft embrace of his mildly chapped lips. You'd been close enough to him in the past to dig your nose into his clean scent, but as he pressed against you, it was all you could focus on. He kissed you as if his lips were studying to be experts on your own; a kneading of exploratory gentleness met with a keen sense of wanting to pour everything unsaid between the two of you into this action. It was like he hungrily wanted to know the curvature of your mouth like the back of his hand.

He broke away from you breathlessly and your floating sense of calm clouded and compacted your words. You hesitated to open your eyes as you felt him settle his forehead against yours, not wanting to extract himself from you yet. You subtly enjoyed the fact of sharing air with him as you drew in a deep breath, the taste of him still lingering in your mouth. You wanted that taste to live on your tongue.

Clay stepped back, shrugging out of your hold reluctantly. His hand moved to settle over his mouth as if he was silently apologizing for the suddenness of that action. Your mind was running wild with the thought of him. You parted your lips, stunned enough that you could barely remember how to stand on your own let alone string together a sentence.

He swallowed, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding your eyes. "I- um," his tongue darted across his lips and you yearned at the fact that you wanted to be pressed against him again, selfishly needing to be tangled among his long limbs or you'd surely die. "I'll see you around," he stated, undoubtedly noticing how verklempt you were and what kind of effect he'd had on you.

He moved to step around you and your eyes glued to where he was standing before. He halted when his shoulder brushed against yours, his gaze turning to trace against your features as you struggled to meet his eyes. You knew he was biting back a smirk as he went on his way again, leaving you to decompose at the mental imagery of him.

You heard the door swing shut behind him and you pushed your wet hair away from your face, turning off the water. As you stepped from the stall, you met eyes with a girl who perked an eyebrow in your direction. She froze in the middle of brushing her teeth, having obviously seen Clay leave, and at the sight of you, she smirked. “Alright, alright. I see you, Elizabeth Bennett,” she winked, swaying a bit before continuing on with her routine.

Dream Tag List: (follow this link to be added ;))

@karlkitten @pluto-dizzz @more-like-reyna @honk-izzie-was-taken @marrymetheonott @froggyy06 @ghoulandghost @savingpluto @marshmallow-babe @drunkpumpkincake @unstableye @tinyegg @behzzyboo @darphobic @twist3dtinkerbell @sparkletash @lindsayhunz @shroomieissmall @mintmochiii @clubfairy

[randomshyperson]

Seeing u getting many requests there, that's really cool you deserve it (though I hope it doesn't overwhelm u or smth). May I request smth? A WandaXReader where they're always arguing and being sarcastic to eachother but it's just sexual tension. Maybe smth with the lines "why are u laghing did I tell a joke?" "why don't u look inside my head and find out". I think it would be pretty cool. It doesn't have to be smutt though, only If u fell like it (also a dom!reader would be nice). Thank you!

Hello Anon! Hope you’re doing fine! 

Sorry this took long. It was really hard to write actually, because I don't feel anger towards Wanda and thinking about fighting with her was really weird haha But I hope you like this. 

Attraction and Reaction / / AO3 

Warnings: 18+, Smut, language.

Words>  2.415k (One)

Part Two Here

It was no secret on the Avengers team that you and Wanda did not have the best of relationships. 

There were numerous warnings from Steve and Tony, and even Natasha, due to the number of arguments and disagreements that took place. You were sure that no action was taken just because you two function well on the battlefield, even if you don't get along off it.

At this moment, for example, you were in a meeting with the rest of the team about the next Avengers mission, but you weren't really paying attention as you scribbled on your notepad. And then your cell phone vibrated, and you pulled it out of your pocket to check it.

- Can you pay attention, Y/N? - Tony asked, and you looked away from the notification of a message from Carol to look at him. But before you could answer, Wanda muttered with irony:

- Typical.

You blinked, feeling a familiar irritation fill your entire body.

- Is there anything you wanna say to me, Maximoff?

- Just for you to fuck off.

You were going to hit back with a angry response, but the team let out a loud impatient grumble.

- Don't even start! - Tony ordered with a serious expression. - I need to go over all this, you can kill yourselves after the presentation.

- No one is going to kill anyone. - said Steve, and you giggled. - Just continue the presentation, please.

Tony rolled his eyes and resumed the presentation. You let out an impatient sigh and tried to pay attention. Fortunately it wasn't much longer before Tony finished. As the members began to get up, Steve signaled for you and Wanda to stay in the room, and you grumbled as you sat back down, throwing your feet up on the table.

- Girls, this can't go on any longer. - Steve said in a serious tone.

- I don't know what you are talking about. - You mock with your arms crossed. Steve doesn't laugh.

- I'm not joking. - He warns. - You need to work out your differences.

- Things would be easier if Y/N wasn't such an arrogant jerk. - Wanda says, and you let out a wry exclamation.

- If Wanda wasn't completely mental and stubborn it would also be easier for us to get along.

Wanda turns in her chair to look at you, her expression of anger.

- Oh, I'm the unstable one? Remind me who is known to lose her head around here?

You roll your eyes impatiently, but before you can respond Steve shouts.

- Stop it, you two, that's enough. - He says. - You are suspended from the next mission.

- Excuse me? - you exclaim looking at him.

- Until this conflict is resolved, you will work together. - He clarifies and you let out a nervous laugh, frowning. - You will be team partners, and you will learn to get along. That is my final decision. Now you can go.

You get up from the table in annoyance, and hurry to leave, with Wanda right behind you. As you stand in the hallway toward your rooms, she shouts:

- This is all your fault! You have to talk shit all the time, don't you?

You let out a wry laugh as you stop walking and turn toward her.

- You're so annoying. - You grumble with your hands in your pockets. - I can't believe I'm going to be stuck with you.

Wanda lets out an annoyed sigh, and you notice her reddened eyes and the magic slipping from her fingers, and you look at her in defiance.

- Come on, do it. - You tease. - I dare you.

- Girls! - shouted Natasha as she turned into the hallway, and quickly got between you and Wanda, putting her hands on her shoulders to calm her down. Wanda blinked in confusion, lowered her hands and her eyes returned to normal. - You two have lost your minds, haven't you?

Your heart was racing, and you thought it was the adrenaline. Licking your lips, you let out a laugh and gave Wanda one last angry glance before turning and heading for your room.

//-//

Steve was really serious about the suspension. The vast majority of the team was out of the tower heading to some city in Europe, and you and Wanda were basically grounded in the tower while Steve left Bucky checking up on you two.

At that point Bucky assigned you and Wanda to train together, and you didn't understand how the best alternative to resolve conflicts was to make you fight, but you didn't question it.

- I want a clean fight, girls. - He said sitting on the stool beside the mat, while you and Wanda climbed into the ring from opposite sides.

- Tell it to the little witch, there. - You retort, looking at Wanda, and she frowns at you.

- You're really going to piss me off before you fight me, aren't you?

You roll your eyes, getting into a defensive position. Bucky lets out a chuckle, getting to his feet. He picks up two sticks, and hands one to each of you.

- You two need to practice using bladed weapons. - He explains and sits back down.

And then you advance on Wanda, who narrowly defends your blow. She counterattacks with the stick towards your legs, but you jump and throw the stick at her, who ducks quickly. You take two steps back, preparing to attack, and as you launch a series of quick strikes which Wanda fights back, you manage to trip her, and watch with a wry smile as she falls backwards onto the ground looking extremely annoyed. But your smile dies when Wanda punches the tatami and her magic escapes, throwing you away.

You fall backwards, feeling your whole body boiling with rage, and get up quickly, but Bucky has already stepped onto the tatami and gets in front of you before you can reach Wanda, who has also gotten up.

- Let's just calm down, okay? - He says seriously, looking between the two of you. - A five-minute break? And no magic next time.

Wanda rolls her eyes, turning to leave the mat. You start to take off your training gloves. 

- What's the matter with you two? - Bucky asks looking really curious. You roll your eyes impatiently.

- I don't want to argue about this again.

Bucky lets out a sigh, leaving the ring. You look around, and notice that Wanda is in the corner of the room, drinking some water. She is sweaty, and her hair is disheveled, and you look down at her exposed collarbone, feeling your throat suddenly dry. You imagine yourself kissing and biting the exposed skin as she moans your name. You blink, trying to push these thoughts away, and then step out of the ring.

- I don't want to practice anymore. - You announce it before you leave. You think Bucky says something, but you have already left the academy.

//-//

Bucky decided to try a different tactic to improve your relationship with Wanda. He described it as a trust technique, which was something he and Sam tried for a while. 

So here you were in one of the empty rooms of the complex, sitting in a chair facing Wanda. Both of you had your arms crossed.

- Let's get started girls. - announced Bucky, standing in front of you. - I'm going to ask you some simple questions, and I need you to answer them honestly.

- Yes, sir. - You retort with mild irony, but Bucky doesn't mind.

- Y/N can you tell me something you like about Wanda?

You let out a dry laugh. But seeing Bucky's expression, you realize that you are going to have to answer.

- I like it when she shuts up. - You retort, and Wanda lets out an annoyed sigh.

- And I like it when you are not around.

- And I...

- Enough! - Bucky interrupts angrily, pressing his fingers to his forehead. - Let's try something else then. I have brought you a list of questions.

- This should be interesting. - You sneer as Bucky walks up to the living room table behind the papers.

When he reaches for the papers, he decides to stand against the table, looking at you.

- Well, Wanda. Tell me, what behavior do you think Y/N should change towards you?

Wanda smiles wryly.

- I wish she wouldn't talk to me.

- That's fine with me. - You retort grumpily, and Wanda looks at you angrily. Bucky sighs with impatience.

- I am serious. - He says. - Do you even know when this conflict started?

You laugh.

- I'm not the one who brought the enemy back to the team. - You point to the time when Wanda fought alongside Ultron.

- Seriously? - She replies incredulously. - Of course you had to bring that back.

- They are just facts.

- The only fact here is that you are an arrogant jerk...

- You just know two adjectives, don't you? - You mockingly interrupt.

- Oh, I have other adjectives for you, yes. - She retorts with irritation, starting to list them on her fingers as she speaks. - Immature, rude, selfish...

- Don't forget hot. - You hit back with a smile, and Wanda rolls her eyes, but before she can continue, Bucky gets up from the table.

- Okay, you guys are going to do the silent exercise. - he says. - Five minutes looking into each other's eyes. Now.

- You're kidding, right? - You retort incredulously, but Bucky's expression is serious.

- Now. - He repeats and you roll your eyes before looking away from him to Wanda.

It's weird, especially in the first few seconds. She looks at you with an impassive face, and you look at her with the same expression. And then you realize that she has very beautiful eyes. Has it been five minutes, you think, starting to feel strange. You hold your gaze, but your thoughts start to wander, and you imagine that you want to leave. But looking at Wanda like this, your thoughts begin to take a completely different turn.

You imagine Wanda sweating like that day at practice, only this time she's with her legs spread wide while you fuck her on your bed. Then you imagine her spreading her legs for you now still sitting in her chair, while you kneel down and touch her until she loses all control.

You also imagine pushing her down on the table, fucking her until her scream. 

And then a noise startles you, and you blink in confusion, looking away.

- Damn, sorry. - Says Bucky looking at his cell phone that is ringing and vibrating in his hand. - It's Steve. It might be about the mission. Try not to kill yourselves while I talk to him.

Bucky rushes to answer it and out of the room, and you let out an impatient sigh. Getting up, you walk over to the desk, looking at the notes he has made.

- Couple therapy techniques. - You read aloud with irony. - This is a joke.

- We wouldn't be here if you weren't such a pain in the ass.

- Yes, it's all my fault. - You retort, throwing the papers on the table and leaning on the furniture. 

- Are you implying that this is my fault? - she replies angrily. - You're the one who has hated me for no reason since I came here!

You blink in surprise and then you're laughing. You never hated Wanda. Your laughter seemed to irritate her even more because she stood up and assumed an aggressive posture.

- Did I tell a joke, by any chance? Why the hell are you laughing? - She asked irritated, you bit your lips, she was hot as hell with her jaw clenched.

- Why don't you take a peek into my mind and find out? - You challenged, looking at her with intensity.

Wanda looked slightly surprised, but didn't flinch. And then her eyes turned red, and you showed her exactly how you felt about her.

You moving towards her, grabbing her around the waist and kissing her mouth firmly. Your tongue in her mouth, as she moaned against you. Your hands going down a little, steadying her before lifting her onto your lap to carry her to the table and have her sit down without breaking the kiss. 

Once seated, you would move your kisses down her collarbone, sucking on her skin until it was red and sensitive, while your hands went inside her shirt at the waist and up to her breasts. You imagined Wanda moaning in your ear, asking you to touch her. And then you would. 

Guiding your hand up her thigh, you would lift her skirt, running your fingers along her skin, until you touched her where she wanted you to. And you would kiss her hard when you reached it, hard enough to make her lose her direction. 

You would start by superficially caressing her through her panties, until she began to tremble and push her hips against you.

Then you would push the panties aside, and penetrate her all at once, feeling her hot and wet in your fingers, while she moaned loudly against you.

You would bring your hand to her hair, pulling gently to expose the collarbone you wanted so badly to kiss, while Wanda would get overwhelmed with such intense satisfaction. You would push your fingers into her until her walls tightened around you, and she began to spasm, whimpering."

Wanda stumbled backwards with a surprised exclamation and a breathless sigh, the sound of the door opening and Bucky entering the room woke her up. You licked your lips, feeling extremely turned on by the playfulness.

- I see you didn't kill yourselves while I was away. - said the soldier, putting away his cell phone. Then he looked up at you two, and frowned. - Is everything okay?

You cleared your throat, trying to smile. But then Wanda spoke first.

- Everything's great. - Her voice came out a little hoarse. - We talked a little while you were out there. - She lies, but you cover it up. - Y/N and I are going out together for a while, to try to resolve this situation without involving the team.

Bucky looks really surprised, and you bite your lip to keep from laughing, and then Bucky smiles.

- Wow, that's great news! - He says - I am proud of you guys.

- Can we go now? - Wanda asks looking anxious. 

- Sure, go ahead. - He says, still smiling. Wanda looks at you and the gleam in her eyes makes your stomach turn with anxiety.

You walk silently out of the hallway, and there is such tension in the air that it is hard to breathe.

About five minutes later, you are in your room, settling your differences in the best possible way.

[wizkiddx]

work with me

this is for @worldoftom 'lolbrosgetsicktoo' challenge event thing - go check it out bcos lots of much better writers have got involved too✨! I'm v new to these things but I tried :) the prompt was: 'would you quit whining and just get in the bath' . (also look at me acc posting sort of regularly, who'd of thought?!?!)

warnings: sickness / fever (more dramatic than it needs to be) / LOTS of medical inaccuracies

summary: when tom doesn't take advice and ends up very ill, very far from home, there's one person whose stuck dealing with it

“Please Tom… I need you to work with me!”

It wasn’t his fault he was being a complete nightmare, though your patience was wearing off somewhat.

For context, you were in Morocco, where he had been filming part of his next film, which only made trying to take care of him that bit harder.

Everyone got ill sometimes. It wasn’t his fault.

That was the mantra ringing through your head, even if you had a more challenging time believing it. Tom wasn’t stupid, as much as he liked to joke about it. HOWEVER, what he was less good at was heeding warnings. He was a white boy in Morrocco; the health and safety briefing had literally been aimed at him. Had he taken the advice not to eat any dodgy looking meats at the market?

Of course not; that’d be boring.

Everyone else was fine. You’d all sampled Morroccos culture without giving yourselves the worst case of food poisoning you’d ever witnessed. But not Tom - possibly one of the only ‘indispensable’ people on the set. If you, or one of the minor characters, or even the director, had got ill - the show could continue.

When you’d been rudely awoken by your phone going off, you’d known instantly. It was as if you’d told him not to take a bite out of the weird burger once you were away from the eager view of the street vendor. Sure enough, with bleary eyes, you hissed at the brightness of the phone screen before seeing ‘Tom H’ on the screen.

“Y/n?” His voice was croaky, but just from the single call of your name, it was clear he was feeling sorry for himself.

“Are you okay? It’s late T.”

“Um I… can you come over? You…you might need the key I’m - um- in the bathroom.”

As his stylist, it technically wasn’t part of your job description to also be mother when he was sick, but (unfortunately for you) after the 3 years working side by side with him - you were also friends.

Which you were almost regretting by the second time rinsing the toilet bowl clean after he’d evacuated what seemed to be the majority of his vital organs into it. Honestly, it was impressive how he managed to keep going.

That had been at around 4 in the morning- the doctor had been called at 8, coinciding beautifully with his 5th toilet extravaganza. Once the doctor had confirmed your original, if completely unqualified, diagnosis of food poisoning - you hadn’t been able to bite your tongue. Perhaps an ‘i told you so’ might’ve slipped past your lips, but Tom was a bit too out of it to argue back.

You’d been given firm advice from the doctor - he said little sips of water, rest and control his temperature. It all had seen pretty simple - though the action? Not so much.

It wasn’t his fault, yet Tom was not super compliant. You and Harry had both been taking turns in practically forcing him to take sips of water, having to turn off ‘modern family’ till he did. The blackmail had put you both in his bad book.

Honestly, thank the lord Harry was here too. You’d woken him up at seven, begging for help and since then, you’d tagged teamed. While one was looking after Tom, the other was phoning the director, the doctor, and the crew to inform them of the current situation.

Again, of all people. Why’d it have to be Tom?

Mainly because you knew how mortifying he found this. He didn’t like people fussing over him, never had. He liked to work hard, liked to make people happy - definitely didn’t like to feel a burden. Perhaps what made him feel ten times worse was that he knew he was inconveniencing the whole production team massively.

And yes, as you’d unhelpfully reminded him, it was ‘his fault’.

The lavish hotel room, big bathroom and pretty efficient AC still didn’t manage to mask the pungent in-the-back-of-your-throat smell from the bathroom. At the doctor’s advice, who had been a little concerned at Toms fever, Harry had cranked the AC on high. It had forced you to steal one of Tom’s big hoodies and a pair of joggers- you hadn’t left his room since he first called you, still wearing your tiny pyjama shorts and an old tee.

“Please turn the air con off.” His little voice whined from where he was lying, huddled up under the covers. Perched on the other side of the double bed, but over the covers with your laptop on his lap, you could actually feel him shivering with the chills. It felt like you were torturing the poor boy.

“T you know I can’t. It’ll make your fever worse.” The way he looked up at you, like a little Labrador that you were refusing to pet, actually pained your heart.

Okay, so yes it was his fault, but you weren’t mad, you just felt so awful for him.

“Please I’ll- I’ll pay you more.” His voice was hoarse; though he denied a sore throat, it sounded like the constant sickness was burning his windpipe.

“Tommm” you pouted, sticking your bottom lip out “I don’t want your money, want you to get better.”

Apparently giving up, brown eyes shot you the filthiest look in disappointment, rolling to face away from you. You thought he was giving you the silent treatment in a huff, but instead, he was praying on the weaker one.

“Harry, I’ll buy you that set of golf clubs-“

“NO!” You had to interrupt before Harry would say yes - because from the way his younger brother shot up from the arm chair, he was about to. Scowling eyes slowly focused back on you in annoyance, making you huff - shutting the laptop and kneeling on the bed to face him. After pressing the back of your palm to his forehead, which was scorching hot, you sighed. “I know you feel shitty and I’m so so sorry but I’m trying to make you better. So shut up, drink this and go to sleep!”

Like a child scorned, you received another death glare however, then he complied, taking a sip of the water you offered before lying back - huddling even tighter.

And it had been relatively peaceful for a few hours; Tom seemed to be getting some sleep - even if he was tossing and turning. Eventually, a prescription that the doctor had requested worked its way through the system, Harry getting a text to say he could go pick it up. The nearest pharmacy was probably a 30 minute drive from the hotel, so he left as soon as.

This left you alone with Tom, where the situation only descended into more chaos.

Almost as soon as Harry had left, Tom had stirred with a grunt. All it took was one look at his face for you to know. Both of you leapt up and flew into the toilet, Tom once again getting very familiar with the Moroccan toilet bowl.

This time though, when he had leant backwards, he’d sort of lost control and flopped most the way - you catching him before he could hit his head on the tiled floor.

“Woah, easy there!” It wasn’t like he’d passed out, but the look in his eye as he slumped into your lap… he wasn’t all there either. “Hey Tom… you with me? Tom?”

Lazily he blinked up at you, not really replying except for groans of half-formed words.

Deciding this had all got a bit direr, you almost sprinted back into the room, grabbing your phone and returning. He was still on the floor, his thumb and first finger pressing into each eye - groaning again.

“Hey Tom? I’m gonna call the doctor you need anything?” He whined in response, stopping only when you stroked his sweaty hair back, most of your attention on dialling the correct number.

The solution he’d given wasn’t pretty: Tom’s fever was too high hence why he was all woozy and groany. Until the doctor could get over with the stronger medications, you needed to lower his temperature in other ways or take him to hospital. He’d absolutely hate hospital, but the other choice? Boy, was he not going to like it either.

Ignoring Tom’s croaked question of what you were doing, you busied yourself switching on the bath taps. You let the water run until it was the right (very mild) temperate, then turned back to Tom, who’d managed to work himself up to sit against the sink unit.

“The doctor says you need it.” His brain was foggy, his mind was slow but your tone told him enough to know something was wrong with the bath. “Just take your clothes off and then I’ll help you-“

“Absolutely fucking not.” Good. He was still with it enough to argue.

“I am just as uncomfortable as you are Tom, but we both know you can’t stand up without fainting, so you are going to need my help.”

“Y/n!”

“Keep your boxers on and it’s just like a fitting! I’ve seen you have those before!”

It was clear as day just how emasculated he felt, especially because he knew you were right. Sitting up at this current moment was a push; there was no way he was getting in the bath without some help. Defeatedly he nodded, but gave you a piercing look to turn around before he started wiggling himself out of the flannel pyjama trousers and light cotton t-shirt. Most confusingly, he still felt freezing cold, yet he had long since learned not to argue with you - especially when your justification came from the advice of a doctor.

Your cue to turn around came in the form of an extra angry-sounding grunt- the look you got when you did wasn’t much better either. It was a weird contrast, though, having someone who physically appeared so indestructible (a superhero for crying out loud); to have been absolutely beaten to a pulp by a few mouth fulls of weird meat. You had seen his bare torso before, although it still wasn’t something easy to get used to - making you clench your teeth together just slightly. A very welcome view.

Perhaps you looked just a little too long at the man who was technically your boss, hunched angrily on the floor in nothing but his calvins - another grunt shaking you out of it. By now, the bath was almost full and you hurried to shut off the water, feeling your cheeks heat up as you cursed silently to yourself.

“Okay come on, gimme your arm.” Begrudgingly Tom followed your request, slinging his arm heavily over your shoulder as you crouched beside him. As strong as he looked, you knew right now he felt powerlessly weak - all that muscle was just going to be almost dead weight.

Now it was your turn to grunt and groan as you pulled Tom up to stand, him focusing on blinking away the headrush he got.

“Come on T work with me here.” Getting him to the side of the bath wasn’t too difficult, the issue came when he stepped with one foot into the bath and yelped, instantly withdrawing as if it was a literal ice bath.

The sudden movement had you both losing balance, ending with Tom sitting on the edge of the bath and you leaning over him, in between his legs, and slapping your hand on the wall opposite purely so you both didn’t end up in the bath.

“Tom!”

“It’s like ice water!”

“Its lukewarm like the doctor said!”

“It is not its from the fucking arctic!”

“Oh for god sake!” Exasperated, you paced up and down the bathroom shaking your head at his ridiculousness. This was ALL. HIS. FAULT.

You came back to him with an ultimatum.

“It’s this or the doctor said I had to drag your ass to hospital.”

“Nooooooo.” The 25 year old seemed to convert into a whiny three year old again.

“Those are the two options. So will you PLEASE quit complaining and get in the bath.”

Keeping up the toddler persona, Tom huffed but reluctantly nodded in agreement - you had come up trumps. It didn’t stop him yelping when you helped to lower him in. His breath was shaky, as a response to the ‘cold’, but he was firming it. At least when you felt his forehead after a couple of minutes, it certainly seemed as though the fever was starting to ease off .

“You can go if you want.” His voice was murmured and as you looked up at him, he did his very best to avoid your gaze.

“Not a chance, if you drown on my watch, Nikki will never forgive me.” At the very least he seemed to appreciate your joke, scoffing a little with a small nod. “If you don’t want me here I get it. As soon as Harry’s back, I’ll swap with him.”

“No! It’s not that its… I’m just an ass when I’m ill.”

“A self aware ass, though.” Again he chuckled a little, as you folded your arms on the edge of the porcelain tub, resting your head lying to one side. “You had me pretty scared there for a moment, you know?”

He nodded a little, creating a wave of ripples in the water which you watched to avoid his gaze - which you knew was tracing all your features inquisitively.

“Hey it’s in the job description, always a bit dramatic... I’m sorry though I should never of called you- don’t know why I didn’t just get Harry.” In response you tutted, taking a moment to lean up and push his sweaty curls back a bit.

Just because you could, it was allowed in this moment.

“’m glad you did.”

“Yeh me too” He sighed, eyes fluttering shut in the easy silence of the bathroom. You kept a vigilant eye on him for the next 20 minutes, checking the temperature of his forehead using the back of your hand, whilst he seemed to finally get a bit of proper restbite, appearing like the worst had passed. You had no idea what was taking Harry so long; in fact it was the doctor that arrived first- who you ran to let in (not wanting to leave Tom asleep in the bath one bit).

Whilst the doctor did all his checks, taking his temperature properly this time, satisfied that it was much more manageable. He still wanted to set him up with some oral rehydration rescue packs to get his hydration status a bit better and give some anti-sickness tablets and antipyretics.

Having actually been getting some rest before all the prodding and poking, Tom was back to being a grumbling dick - now not wanting to leave the bath (the irony was real - making you roll your eyes). Once again, he appeared embarrassed to have you see him like this, so you left the doctor to help him get out and changed- instead going down to reception to get a fresh set of sheets, as he’d done a pretty impressive job of sweating through the old ones.

Even if tired and grumpy, when Tom exited the bathroom, he looked much better - he was walking himself without the doctor’s help. Which honestly was such a relief because when he had passed out on you, you genuinely were terrified. Thankfully the doctor stayed for the next 20 or so minutes, which was just when Harry returned with a bag of medications - which were now wholly redundant, given the doctor had already supplied everything.

“What happened?” Harry asked you in a hushed voice, whilst Tom was distracted with getting his medications. Recounting the story of Tom pretty much passing out, Harry grimaced for you, then launching over to give you a tight hug.

“Are you okay?” That was a novel idea, you hadn’t really thought about yourself at all - but honestly, you were a bit shaken, having been running on adrenalin for most of the night.

“I-uhm… yeh I think so… just-just was a bit scared, I guess? Felt bad too because he didn’t want me there but-“

“I can promise you Y/n, he did want you there. Just probably embarrassed he wasn’t all manly and that…” With a nod, you smiled softly at the frizzy-haired boy.

Whilst working with Tom, it also meant getting pretty close to his younger brother. The two Hollands were almost attached at the hip, which you were very much okay with.

It was weird though... your relationships were completely different. Harry was just your brother, through and through. He wound you up like a sibling but also knew you as if he had your whole life. With Tom… it wasn’t that. Arguably, you were closer to Tom, but on a different level. It was more exciting, more nerve-wracking and heartwarming all at the same time. Honestly, you couldn’t get your head around it properly.

“Hey, you’re probably shattered. Why don’t you go back to your room and get some sleep? I got it in here.” You knew Hary was trying to offer something nice, and now all the excitement had worn off, you were unbelievably shattered. But you didn’t like the idea of not being there, as a just in case.

“Uhm, I think I might just stay, you know?” And he did, with a deliberate, knowing smile, he nodded.

He knew you were worried. He knew Tom had really really scared you. He also knew how much you cared about his brother.

Just like how Harry knew Tom wanted you there, even if he felt embarrassed. Well, anyone would- when you are passing out half-naked in front of the one person that really matters.

It was just at this point that the doctor was done, giving Harry instructions about the rest of the day, when you made a beeline for the bed. Tom was propped up against the headboard, still with a pale sullen look and tired eyes, but a bit less clammy and more human. He cracked a smile as you crawled up onto the other side of the bed, kneeling next to him.

“How’re you doin’?”

“All drugged up, just feel fucking exhausted.” Instinctively you reached up to feel his forehead, really appreciating the fact it felt almost normal.

“Join the club mate, I had a 5am wake up call too.” You almost whispered, intending to make Tom laugh, but instead only getting a pout.

“I am sorry, a-are you going to go back to your room?”

“Nah” Tom’s eyes didn’t light up, except the fact that they very much did. “Can’t trust you not to get into trouble while I’m gone Holland.”

“Thanks.” He laughed weakly before shimmying down on the bed, so he was much more comfortable. “And thankyou, I-I’m sorry I’m a dickhead and made your life-“

“Shut up Tom!” Laughing, you lightly slapped his arm, also leaning down on the bed, so you were lying facing him. “You’re all feverish; go to sleep before you say something stupid.”

There was a long pause, Tom just gazing deep into your eyes, because he was pretty sure what he was thinking was nothing to do with the dodgy unidentified meat he’d had the evening before.

“What... like asking you out?”

…..

“Maybe that wouldn’t be so stupid.”

~~~~im really not sure how I feel about this one, let me know what you thought ;) ~~~~

tagging: @lovehollandy12 @hallecarey1 @crossyourpeter@hollandfanficlove

[letarasstuff]

Can I stay with you?

(A/N): This is based on this, this and this post. I really hope you are ready for the feels, because they are there and they are heavy-

Summary: Following the events of Emily's death, how will Spencer and his daughter cope with it?

Warnings: Angst and lots of it, mentions of drug use, contemplations of drug use, mentions of needles, we also got some bittersweet fluff

Wordcount: 2.5k

✨Masterlist✨ _______________________________

A hospital is not a place where a child should be, Spencer knows that much. But he picked (Y/N) up on his way for two reasons:

The first one being the simple occurence that the babysitter is not able to keep her any longer, because she has classes in the next morning. The second one is selfish and the father knows that, but he needs her presence, the comfort she brings to him.

“Daddy”, the child breaks the silence in the waiting room, “Is Auntie Emily going to be ok?” She sits in his lap reading a book before looking up at him. Her eyes hold something he wishes to never see again: Fear. The fear of losing someone she loves dearly.

“I hope, Baby. But let’s not forget one important fact: Your Auntie Emily is one of the strongest women I know.” Spencer gives her a kiss on the top of her head and cuddles her closer to him, seeing (Y/N)’s eyes dropping. The rest of the team watches the interaction with aching hearts.

The girl is asleep for half an hour when JJ enters the room. Everybody gets up crowding her. Spencer is careful to not disturb his daughter as he moves her head to his shoulder and hooks his arm under her legs.

“She never made it off the table.” These words echo in the genius’ mind, seemingly being the only things he can think about. “I-I never had the chance to say goodbye.” JJ hugs him, trying to give some sort of comfort. In this process (Y/N) wakes up. As soon as she spots her father’s tears, she knows not to ask a question. Instead she loops her arms around his neck.

“It’s fine. It’s gonna be alright, Daddy”, the toddler recalls the words he says to her whenever she is upset in hopes to cheer him up.

The next couple days are hard on the whole team. They try to grieve together, especially while the funeral takes place. (Y/N) notices that the color black is fitting, since her Auntie really liked to wear it. She likes that they do the same to pay their respects that way.

“Auntie Penny, is she watching?” The blonde woman carries her while the casket is walked down the aisle. Since her death, (Y/N) doesn’t dare to say Emily’s name. She thinks if she avoids it, she is going to inflict less pain when she is talked about.

“Of course. Emily is in heaven and watches this beautiful beautiful ceremony we hold for her. So wipe that frown off and put on that smile she loved so much. Alright?” Confusing to her, the adults want (Y/N) to smile all the time. But they are frowning and crying more often than not.

“Can she hear us? Because I want to say I love her. I forgot to say it the last time I saw her.” Trying to distract herself from seeing the casket lowering into the grave, the girl plays with Penlope’s hair. She in turn has to fight tears back. Only now she realizes the impact the whole thing has on her.

“I’m sure she does. What about when the majority is gone, we go to her grave and talk to Emily? Do we have a deal?” (Y/N) nods.

As soon as the ceremony is over, Spencer takes his daughter, cradling her close to him. As if she senses his sadness, the girl is petting his back in a comforting way. He squeezes her closer to him, leaving her not much room to breathe.

“Daddy, I wanna talk to her. I need to get down.” (Y/N) wiggles in his grasp after she whispers this into his ear. Reluctantly Spencer lets her down and she toddles over to the freshly made grave. A little plastic card sticks out of the grass in place of a headstone.

The adults try to give her as much space as possible, they have to let grieve on her own.

“Hey, Auntie Emily. I-I wanted to say I love you, and I forgot to tell you this the last time so I say it a second time. I love you. And I miss you. I think Daddy misses you too. He is sad since you are gone. I’m too. I think it’s because we miss you. But I hope you like Heaven. Maybe you see my Mommy. When you do, can you say I love her?

“I’ll try to see you soon, Auntie. Goodbye!” (Y/N) goes back to her father and makes grabby hands towards him. Gladly Spencer picks her up again, putting a kiss on her head. “Wanna go home, Daddy.” The child mumbles, exhausted by all the stress and emotions from the day.

The father is relieved to have an excuse to skip the meal with the team. He is scared that the evening at the little restaurant is clouded by sadness and angst. Spencer doesn’t need that right now, a nice sit in with his daughter sounds way better.

After saying their goodbyes the little family sits in the car on their way to the apartment. As soon as Spencer starts the car, (Y/N) is fast asleep. He looks at her through the rear view mirror, happy to see her at peace. It gives the father time to sort through his own thoughts. Since Emily’s death (Y/N) tries to be around him constantly, which he is thankful for, because she keeps the darkness away.

Her last hours play again and again before his eyes. The different ways he could have stopped all of this. Why didn’t he say more when she began biting her nails? When she said “Laura Reynolds is dead”? Maybe all of this is his fault?

His forearm begins to itch. Exactly where Tobias Hankel injected the needle same as he did several times. Maybe, maybe it would make everything better? Just this one tim-

“Daddy? When are we home?” The small voice cuts off his train of thought. Spencer needs a few seconds to clear his mind. Did he really think that? Taking dilaudid while the reason he fought his addiction literally sits right behind him? “Just a few minutes, Sweetheart. Do you want to go to bed after dinner?”

As if she knows that the father can’t be left alone in this state, (Y/N) answers: “No, I wanna watch a movie with you. Can we watch Alvin and the chipmunks? I love Simon so much!” This places a smile on his face, the excitement in her eyes scare his dark thoughts away. “Sure, Peanut. We can watch whatever you want.”

It's the fourth evening in a row that the girl sleeps in her father’s bed. She either falls asleep there or climbs next to him in the middle of the night, so he figures he lets her sleep there right away.

“Good night, Sweetheart”, he tells her as they lay down. Even though it’s quite early for Spencer to go to bed it’s (Y/N)’s time. “Good night, Daddy”, she tells him while snuggling closer, “I love you. Soooooo much.”

The young doctor decides to take the next few days off from work in order to work through the events. The first one he spends coloring in books with her the whole day. While she works on her own books gifted by various members of the BAU, Spencer has his own extra made for adults. He can’t deny the soothing effect it has on him. The repeating moves calms the storm of thoughts inside his head.

The next day the two of them sit the whole day on the small couch in the living room, (Y/N) on his lap, and read. Sometimes they read for themselves, others the father reads outloud from his own or (Y/N) from her own. It’s kind of therapeutic to hear his child doing something he enjoyed his whole life.

“Daddy, do you think she feels lonely in heaven? There is nobody she knows, she has to wait for us to follow her, doesn’t she?” Not prepared for such a deep question, Spencer is caught off guard.

He clears his throat before answering. “Uh, Auntie Emily isn’t that lonely up there, you know. You can’t remember him, but Uncle Gideon, a friend from work and someone I looked up to, is there. He surely greeted her with open arms, happy to see her. And your Mommy is also there, she certainly asked lots of questions about you.” “A-are you sure? I told her to say Mommy ‘I love you’ when she sees her.” (Y/N) looks up to her father with big eyes.

He is not sure if he is lying right now to her, but he sees that his daughter needs the reassurance. “Yes, I’m sure.” To lighten the mood he begins to tickle her, which ends in a tickle fight which in turn ends in tiring the girl out and falling asleep while watching a Disney movie.

The next day is by far the worst since it all happened. Both (Y/N) and Spencer haven’t slept much due to nightmares from both sides (him comforting her as she tears him from his own), which results in a grumpy toddler and a non stop coffee drinking adult.

“Sweetheart, you need to put that shirt on. Auntie JJ is expecting us in ten minutes. Please, stop fighting me”, he begs, but she continues to cry. As Spencer tries for a third time to put it on her (Y/N) throws herself to the other side of the bed.

“I don’t want that, Daddy!” She finally gets out through her sobs. Spencer halts in his movements. “Why? That’s your favorite, Baby.” While (Y/N) begins to cry louder, he leaves the clothing article on the bed and gathers her in his arm, rocking her back and forth additionally to whispering sweet reassurances in her ear.

“She gave it to me. I don’t wanna make it dirty or ruin it”, the toddler says between shaky breaths. For what feels like the trillionth time, the young agent’s heart breaks over this statement. He has a bigger vocabulary than the average English speaking person, but at this moment Spencer is at a loss of words.

“Sweetheart, I apologize for not acknowledging this right away. I’ll get another shirt out for you, ok? Thank you so much for telling and helping me.” Just a few minutes later the little family is on their way to the next metro stop. It’s then that Spencer realizes his day won’t be any easier.

“(Y/N) you can sit in the seat next to me like you always do. Why do you have to sit in my lap today?” Normally he isn’t someone who denies his child physical contact, but the seating chart has a logical purpose. Being on a train with a child means you have some kind of luggage with you, which leads to occupying a four seats compartment. In order to prevent somebody taking the seat next to him, Spencer places his daughter there. It’s a win win situation for everybody, really.

Unfortunately for him (Y/N) is extra clingy today and won’t stop crawling onto his lap. With a sigh he accepts his defeat and tries not to think about the amount of germs that fly around.

Another problem that torments the father: Over the last few days his cravings grew. Especially today the feeling, the need, for another shot and another high is undeniable for him. As if sensing this (Y/N) sticks by his side throughout the whole time, keeping his mind off of the drug that changes him.

While they are at the Jareau’s and Lamontagne’s household, his daughter refuses to play with Henry. “I wanna stay with you”, she murmurs into his shoulder. Again Spencer accepts his defeat and sits down on the couch next to his best friend.

“Sweetheart, you need to let me go. I have to go to the bathroom, you can’t come with me.” This is followed by a tsunami of tears. While JJ tries to console her, he slips out of the room discreetly.

Due to (Y/N)’s current grumpiness and Spencer’s fatigue they quickly call it a night, even though he could use some more comfort from his friends.

“Good night, Sweetheart. Sleep tight and dream nice. I love you”, he says after tucking his child in and giving her a kiss on the forehead. “Night night, Daddy. I love you, too”, her small voice echoes back to him and makes him smile softly.

Spencer finds his way back to the living room and sits down with a book in his lap. As expected he doesn’t get much reading done, too distracted by his own thoughts. The events of the night of his colleague’s, his friend’s, death replay themselves over and over again.

What if he made his conclusions faster? He is supposed to be the smart one, the one the team relies on for making important connections. But he failed once so who knows what happens when he fails again? Next time it could be the whole team dying. He could die. He would leave (Y/N) alone with the team gone. His mother isn’t capable of caring for her and his father doesn’t even know she exists. She will go into foster care, into a home with too many kids. She will be looked over, too small to be seen. Her potential will go to waste and she will never achieve anything she is capable of. And all that because he hasn’t made a conclusion fast enough.

Spencer’s scars on his forearm itch worse than ever. One shot. Only one shot to make the thoughts go away. To make the guilt go away, the bad feelings. He needs it. He needs to cure himself from the symptoms of being a human.

Before the young doctor even registers what he is doing he already put his jacket on and looks for his wallet when a voice startles him.

“Daddy, i can't sleep. Can I stay with you again?” (Y/N) stands in the doorway, clutching her stuffed animal and her blanket, shielding her eyes from the light, oblivious to what her father was about to do.

“Oh Darling, of course. Do you want me to read to you? Or we drink hot chocolate and watch a movie?” He suggests, ready to distract himself from anything that’s going on in his mind. A few minutes later his daughter cuddles into his side while watching once again Alvin and the Chipmunks.

Spencer is just happy to have his light in his life all the time and is ready to tackle any task to keep her there, may it be once again the weekly visits for anonymous narcotics or time off from work to process the events together in therapy.

Taglist:

All works:

@agentshortstacc

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl

Spencer Reid x child!reader:

@ilovetaquitosmmmm

[raibebe]

Simple Lessons

Genre: fluff Words: 3.200 Prompt: 90s grunge boy Jeno x female reader

Warnings: smoking, mentions of food

A/N: Literally no one asked for this but this just poured out of me the other day... EVERLONG JENO IS MY COMFORT CHARACTER OKAY??

Everlong masterlist

“Do you want to go out to grab lunch? You don’t have classes until later as well, right?” Your best friend asked as she dragged you out of the lecture hall. “Sure,” you smiled, basking in the rays of the sun for a while after being stuck inside an auditorium with barely any daylight for two hours straight. “There is this cute new diner a little off-campus and a little birdie told me there is this super hot guy working there,” she wiggled her eyebrows to which you could just groan loudly, making her giggle in return. Mimi had talked you up during orientation days and you two hadn’t seperated since. Sharing majors surely helped with that and soon you had found a small group of girls to call your friends. While she was very much the flirty, extrovert in your group, a crush on a different boy each day of the week, you couldn’t not be fond of her shenanigans when it made all of you laugh out loud whenever she told stories of yet another drastically failed date. “Not everyone can still be with their Highschool boyfriend like you,” she accused, slapping your arm before tugging you in the direction of the diner. “Are we really going to this diner just because someone told you that one of the waiters is hot?” “Listen. This was a very trustworthy source,” Mimi pouted, “I’ll pay for your meal, just come with me please.” “How can I say no to free food?” You laughed loudly, letting her pull you along while complaining about all the assignments your professors had given out.

You had to admit that the diner was really cute. It had this old-school look inside with the red, big sofas and a variety of license plates decorated the walls and the female servers even wore cute puffy skirts. “This is so pretty,” you said once Mimi had chosen a booth, the leather of the sofa squeaking while you sat down. “Yeah, yeah,” she waved it off, looking around the place, “Now where is this hot waiter?” “You’re hopeless,” you giggled, picking up the menu that was already laid out on the table to look at their food options instead of helping your friend. “Shut up,” she grumbled, copying your action, “You also still haven’t introduced us to your boyfriend.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, “He’s...” Well, what were you supposed to say now? If it were to go how you had wanted, your friends would have already met Jeno at the first party you were invited to but he had declined the offer, only sweetly kissing your head and promising to pick you up at 2 am from the adress you had given him. Which he had done but by that time everyone was so wasted that they couldn’t remember a thing. Which had become a reoccurring theme, no matter how much you’d bribe them to not drink to finally catch a glympse at him. “If you all would stop drinking yourself into a coma every time we go out, you’d have met him already.” “I am beginning to think you’ve made him up,” Mimi grinned, “He seems way too perfect. Letting you go out and party on your own and picking your drunk ass up after but then he never shows up to your classes to walk you to the next one.” Well just maybe you hadn’t gotten around to telling your friends that Jeno in fact wasn’t even studying but working different part-time jobs to help finance your apartment until he had figured out what he wanted to do in the first place. They had just assumed he was studying something way different than you hence why you wouldn’t meet up during your breaks. “Well he is real,” you sighed, “He’s just... Different?” “Oooooh, I get it,” your friend grinned, “He’s older than you. Oh my god. Do you have a sugar daddy?” At that you let out an embarrassed screech which made her double over with laughter. “Why would you say that?” You whined, “He’s the same age as us, for real.”

“Hi ladies, I see you’re already having a great time. I’ll be your waiter for today, have you already decided what to get?” A deep velvety voice interrupted. You didn’t need to look up to know who the waiter was or what he looked like because his voice was almost as familar to your ears as your own was and you knew his body inside and out. Smiling brightly, your eyes met Jeno’s who was also smiling, throwing you a little wink. You had known that he had been working in a diner for a little while now but not this specific one so it was a nice surprise to see him here clad in a neat button-down and pants that for once weren’t ripped to shreds. Meanwhile, Mimi was stunned in silence, her mouth parted in what must be awe. “Hi,” you kept smiling at Jeno, “Anything you can recommend?” “Our burgers are pretty good,” he shrugged, “But what’s really good are our milkshakes.” “Then we’ll take that, right?” You asked your friend, kicking her shin beneath the table to get her to snap out of it. “Y-yeah sure,” she stuttered, still blatantly gawking at Jeno. “Great, I’ll be right back with your drinks,” Jeno smiled before walking off again.

“Girl he’s so hot oh my god,” Mimi exclaimed as soon as he was out of earshot, dramatically flopping down onto the table. “He’s really good-looking,” you admitted, a big grin on your face. “Better than your boyfriend?” “I wouldn’t say that,” you laughed, awkwardly shuffling in your seat. Was this the right time to tell her that the waiter apparently a lot of girls were thirsting after was in fact your boyfriend and probably not at all like they thought him out to be? “God, I bet he looks so good out of his uniform as well,” she groaned, “Just the thought of him in light washed denim.” At that, you had to mask a burst of laughter with an awkward cough. You had tried times and times again to convince Jeno to swap out one of his dark jeans for light-washed ones but he wasn’t budging, only in turn challenging you to wear one of his many black baggy T-shirts instead of your brightly colored spaghetti tops. “Sure,” you giggled instead, kicking your friend’s shin again to alert her when Jeno came back with your drinks. “There you go, food will be out in a bit,” he smiled politely. Not the kind of smile that turned his eyes into beautiful crescents but a more reserved one.

“Hey, uhm,” Mimi suddenly spoke up when Jeno turned around to walk away again, making him halt in his steps. “Have you been working here for long?” Oh god. You had to physically keep yourself from cringing at her awkward try to rope him into a conversation. “Just a handful of weeks, so not that long,” Jeno shrugged, “Looking for a job as well?” “Oh no, we both work part-time at a clothing store downtown,” she waved it off, “I was just wondering because I had never seen you around before.” “Well yeah, makes sense I haven’t been here for long.” “So you recently moved here? I’m sure I would have remembered a handsome face like yours,” Mimi now blatantly flirted, twirling a dyed strand of hair around her finger and just slightly leaning forward on the table to give Jeno a better view of her cleavage in her white cropped top. “Yeah, I’m not from around here,” he shared, his eyes firmly staying on her face but the redness of his ears and how his fingers were fiddling with his little notepad betrayed his cool facade. Was this the time where you should end this to save Mimi and Jeno from further embarrassment? Or should you enjoy this for a little longer? “Are you also a student?” She asked next, “We both go to university here.” “Oh god no,” Jeno exclaimed and this time you couldn’t hold in the little giggle that slipped past your lips, noticing that your boyfriend’s lips twitched into a little grin as well. The more Jeno saw you struggle between classes, essays and study sessions, the more sure he had become about his whole decision to not do the whole university thing. Just when your friend wanted to ask the next question, a loud voice interrupted: “Jeno, I am not paying you for flirting with customers! Get back to work!” Rolling his eyes at his boss, Jeno shot the two of you an apologetic look before quickly walking to the register where his boss was waiting.

“God, even his name sounds good,” Mimi groaned, returning to her former position, sprawled out over the table. “You sound like you’re in love with him,” you giggled, “You don’t even know him.” “Listen. This is love at first sight. Do you not watch romance movies?” You did in fact. Even though Jeno would complain throughout the whole first 30 minutes of the movie until he’d either accept his fate in favor of cuddling and letting you pet his hair or actually get invested in the movie as well, cursing the characters for being so stupid and not talking out their problems. “I do, dummy,” you rolled your eyes, taking a sip from your milkshake that didn’t disappoint after Jeno had praised it so much, “But don’t you need to get to know a person before you can love them?”

“You’re the one with a boyfriend,” she mumbled, collecting herself from the table to take a sip of her drink as well, “Tell me about him.” “My boyfriend?” “Yeah, you never speak much about him and don’t let us meet him either. Convince me he’s not made up.” “Well we know each other since childhood,” you shared, feeling heat creep up your cheeks and neck, knowing how cliche your story sounded, “He lived in the house next to ours so we played a lot as children but then my family had to move away when I was in like elementary school or something because of my dad’s work but eventually we moved back for my last year of highschool.” “Oh wow, that must have sucked to leave all your friends behind twice.” Sighing, you ran your hands through your hair. “It wasn’t easy to just leave everything behind, but I managed. We moved back into our old house and he was also still living in the house next to us with his family. His mom made him take me to school every day and we shared a lot of classes and then it just went from there,” you smiled, blatantly leaving out the part where you had to basically force Jeno to speak and open up to you at nights on his rooftop beneath the moon and the stars. That was a private matter you didn’t want to share without his consent.

“That is so wholesome,” Mimi cheered, “What’s he like?” “Different?” You tried to explain, swirling your straw in your milkshake, “Like different than you’d expect him to be. When you see us together, you’d probably say we don’t match.” “Ooooh,” she nodded, her eyes wide, “So you’re like opposites?” “You could say that,” you smiled, “But when you get to know us, we’re not that different.” Before she could ask more questions, Jeno interrupted you again, hands full of your plates. “And that’s your food girls. Please enjoy,” he smiled, placing the plates down, “If you need anything else, I’ll be around.” “Actually,” Mimi began and you had to hold yourself back from interrupting her, “I was wondering when your shift is ending.” “My shift?” Jeno repeated, his eyes shortly drifting over to you. “Yeah,” she smiled, waiting for his answer. “I’m off in a bit,” he said slowly after checking the time on the neon clock hanging over the counter. “So you’re free after we’re done with our food?” She pressed on. “Probably?” “Would you like to hang out after? We still have some time until our next classes start. “Hang out. With you two,” he repeated, still dumbstruck by her boldness. “I mean you don’t have to if you really don’t want or have something to do,” she shrugged but you knew that look in her eyes. She was determined to have him hang out with you. “I was just going to go get groceries and go home,” Jeno shared, “Listen, I gotta go back to work or my boss will literally fire me because he already hates me.” With an apologetic smile, he quickly walked down to another table where a couple was seemingly done with their meal.

“You’re so shameless,” you accused your friend, finally digging into your meal. “Listen. I see a hot boy and need to talk to him, it’s as easy as that,” Mimi giggled, taking a bite from her burger. “Now tell me more about that boyfriend of yours.”

Once you were finished with your meal, Jeno already wasn’t there anymore to take your bill, instead, a cute girl with a big puffy skirt handed your friend the bill. “But half the stuff is missing,” Mimi asked, “I’m paying for both of us.” “Oh, my colleague took care of one of the meals,” the waiter smiled, “He must like one of you.” “I told you my flirting was worth it,” your friend smiled, handing over the money. You really didn’t have it in you to tell her that Jeno most likely covered for your half of the meal when she seemed so genuinely happy about it, so you swallowed the words back down even if it was going to come out sooner or later when you’d finally get Jeno to meet your friends.

Apparently, the universe wanted it to be sooner because as soon as you stepped back out of the diner and into the sun, a boy clad in all black caught your attention. He was leaning against the little railing around the diner, a cigarette between his lean fingers. “Hey,” you nudged your friend, nodding towards Jeno. “Huh?” “It’s the waiter,” you explained, looking over at him. By now it looked like he was trying his hardest to hold back his grin while taking another drag. Shocking people with his looks still was one of his favorite things to do if they only knew him from one of his jobs where he had to wear a uniform. “No way,” Mimi whispered, “He looks like a completely different guy.” “You’re not in love anymore now?” “He’s just so…” “Different?” You helped her out, rolling your eyes. Why could no one see past the dark clothes, chains and the cigarette and made the effort to actually get to know Jeno? “I don’t think he’s my type.” “You’re ridiculous,” you snorted, leaving her behind to walk over to Jeno.

“Hey bubblegum,” he smiled, curling an arm around your waist like it was second nature already, “Fancy seeing you here.” “You didn’t tell me that was the diner you applied to,” you pouted, scrunching your nose at the smell of smoke. “I didn’t know it was close to your campus,” he shrugged it off and stubbed out the remainder of his cigarette after taking a last drag, making an effort to blow the smoke away from you, “Your friend tried really hard to flirt with me.” “She’s an idiot,” you rolled your eyes, looping your arms around his torso to hug him close, “I missed you.” “I made you breakfast literally this morning,” he laughed but pulled you closer to him anyways. “If you work this close you could have come to visit.” “Bubblegum…” Jeno sighed, tucking a wild strand of hair back into place. “My friends think I’ve made up my boyfriend,” you pouted. “You want to show your friend back there how real I am? I think her eyes are already very close to falling out of her head.” “What’s going on in that head of yours Jeno Lee?” “Let me show you,” he grinned, cupping your face with one of his hands before pressing his lips to yours in a languid kiss, the taste of smoke on his breath familiar by now. “You really need to quit,” you grumbled against his lips. “I know,” he sighed but kissed you again anyways, “Wasn’t expecting to see you this soon.” “So you smoke in secret?” “Stop arguing when I’m trying to kiss you,” he grumbled, playfully biting your bottom lip. “Stop kissing me when I’m trying to safe your lungs,” you pouted, slapping his chest for emphasis but didn’t protest and insted kissed you again, languid and deep.

“Are you two done making out now?” Mimi suddenly interrupted you, making your face heat up as you took a step back from Jeno who was having nothing of that and pulled you back against his side by your waist. “Yeah, all done,” he grinned, holding one of his hands out for your friend to shake, “I’m Jeno.” “I figured from your boss screaming at you,” she mumbled but shook his hand anyways, giving him her name as well, “You made me look like a fool. Like you could have told me you were the infamous boyfriend refusing to meet us.” “It’s not like I was refusing.” “You totally were,” you butted in, pinching his side. “Listen it doesn’t sound as appealing to spend my evenings with a group of all girls as you think it does,” he defended himself, “And now you have a witness that I am in fact real.” “You’re not getting out of his now, Jeno Lee,” you grinned, lacing your fingers together. “And if I told you I had this really important thing to do?” He tried, throwing you his best puppy eyes. “We can go grocery shopping after my last class,” you rolled your eyes, “You’re walking back to campus with us now.” “Yes, ma’am,” he rolled his eyes, “Let me carry your bag.” “Oh god, you’ll make me feel so single,” Mimi groaned when you handed Jeno your backpack to carry. “You wanted this, I can leave any time,” your boyfriend shrugged, “Do you have like stones in your bag or something?” “It’s called books, you should try it,” you said, playfully sticking out your tongue. “Why am I even dating you?” Jeno just rolled his eyes. “Because you love me,” you smiled brightly. “Yeah, I kinda do,” he confessed, squeezing your hand.

“No need to make me feel even more single,” Mimi groaned again, “Do you have any hot friends to introduce me to, Jeno?” “I don’t think they’re your style,” he shrugged it off, motioning at his attire of ripped black jeans and dark shirt. “So you do have some hot friends that are also single?” “You almost fainted when you saw me, I don’t think you could handle them.” “Don’t judge a book by its cover, babe,” you smiled, leaning into his body. “Sure, bubblegum,” he gently smiled back.

Because if you had judged him by his cover, you’d never be as happy as you were right now.

[xpeachesncream]

perfectly wrong | one

summary: there were rules that had to be followed: no one could know about you two, there was no ‘getting to know each other,’ and there was absolutely no emotional attachment allowed. if this could be done, there should be no complications. but somehow, the rules always get bended.

pairing: reader x fuckboy!kth

genre: college au | fluff, angst, smut

words: 2301

chapter warnings: cussing, mature language, very slight angst, some hints of jealousy, alcohol consumption

notes: pls remember that this is set a few months after you and tae have been going at it, so it will seem like things are happening a bit fast. i’m not trying to prolong this series. also most importantly, i tend to usually write shorter chapters > shorter, but more chapters published. enjoy!

> series masterlist <

Jungkook decided he was going to see if he could jump over your couch and land perfectly in a seated position.

"Wait, wait, wait. Absolute silence everybody." He says as he's stretched over, trying to estimate the timing and height of his jump. He had always been super athletic and competitive since you two were small, so there was really no changing his mind on this. He always had to prove something, even if that meant creating his own competition of jumping over the couch.

"It's just me and you." You watched him from the kitchen, making sure the pizza in the oven was baking properly.

"I have an audience, okay? Don't be rude, Y/N." He says as he points over to the fake audience clapping and laughing during a 'Friends' episode.

"Whatever, as long as you don't go breaking my shit, Jeon Jungkook." He was 22, but his mentality was 8. That was for damn sure.

"Siiiiiiilence." He says at a whisper, his eyes shut as he puts a finger to his mouth. He lets out a huff and a puff before he gets the courage to throw himself over the couch and land a perfect landing. "And once again, he sticks the landing!" He stands up with his hands up in the air.

"You're annoying." You laughed, getting paper plates ready for the pizza that was about to be done because you were in no mood to do any dishes tonight.

"Thank you! I'll be here again tomorrow, same time." He calls out to his fake audience.

"No the hell you're not."

"Ouch, nevermind. Someone apparently doesn't want me here." You laugh at how dramatic he is. At this point, you just let him be because that was something you always loved about your bestfriend. He embraced the kid in him and always brought good times. You had similarities, but you also had some major differences. You liked being in your comfort zone & you were labeled the innocent nerd amongst your friends. You just like to consider yourself simple, though. A 'take it day by day' kind of person. Kookie was fun, adventurous and childish at times. He was also shy, but loud at the same time? An introverted extrovert, you could say.

But you loved each other nonetheless, that's why you've clicked so well since you were young. You taught each other things & grew together.

"Here, fool." You placed the pizza in front of him with the paper plates.

"Set it up, I'll grab us the drinks. You want anything in particular?"

"That bottle of Stella Rosa, please." JK knew you loved that Stella Rosa, so he happily grabs the bottle and two wine glasses. He plops back next to you on the couch, pouring your glasses and grabbing a heaping serving of 4 slices of pizza.

You both decided you want a good laugh, so you throw on Kevin Hart's newest installment: Zero Fucks Given. It isn't long before you both are rolling on the floor, almost gasping for air at how much you're laughing at Kevin Hart's stand up. The pizza is gone, the wine is gone, and you're still feeling pretty tipsy. The whole thing sounds nice, until your head starts to wonder what Taehyung is doing and if he'll text you to come over tonight. You know he probably already has plans with another chick though, and that hits you.

Curse this fucking alcohol.

Let's get this straight - the only time you 'talk' is when he's trying to fuck.

And yes bitch, you let him do this to you. You're out that door before you can even fully slip your shoes on. Dick is just that good. It's something about Taehyung that makes you addicted. The way he gives you a stupid ass smirk when he opens his door, the way he touches your skin and gently lays his shit on you until you both become really invested in the moment. So invested that shit hits the roof. It gets messy. It gets rough. It becomes unspeakable.

You aren't friends. No one knows about you two, or that you even know the other exists. You don't know shit about each other. The only thing you know is that he's fucking other girls. He has a whole roster, you'd imagine - a starting five, at least.

He doesn't care about you, and for the most part, you don't either. At least, that's what you like to portray because it's been some months now since this whole thing started and you can't help but feel some kind of emotional tie to him. You're leaving your house between 12-2am in the morning and sleeping in his bed until 6-7am. It's a routine; a routine you've become used to. You skip out on some late night kick-its with your friends cause you anticipate a text to come through from him.

But, he doesn't care. You aren't the only female slipping into those sheets, and boy does it fucking make it hard to swallow. Reality hits hard when you think about it and you feel this huge pit in your stomach. You try to be different, you try to stand out one way or another. But it doesn't work that way. You knew what this entailed going into it, so it makes zero sense as to why you're hurting and getting jealous from time to time.

You know it still doesn't matter to him.

He's only fucking you over cause you let him. You know damn well you're not gonna change and let this go, though. You love thrill of it too much. It's the most thrill your life has had. You're not perfect and you're only human. You make mistakes, but this one definitely puts the cherry on top. Because not only do you refuse to learn, but you let it repeat itself over and over again.

"Aishhhh, my stomach hurts from laughing too much." Jungkook laid his head back and patted his belly. "But that was good though. I needed that."

"Yeah it was. Thanks for coming by to watch that with me, Kook." He tilts his head over to look at you and smiles.

"Sure thing." He checks his phone and sits up. "Yoongi is blowing up the group chat." You check your phone to see multiple unread messages from none other than Min Yoongi himself.

[yoongi] 10:37pm: aye

[yoongi] 10:45pm: all of a sudden, everyone is ghost in this group chat?! you all had a lot to say not too long ago.

[yoongi] 10:52pm: even though you guys are fake as fuck, does anyone wanna come with me to the bars tonight? meet at my place so we can head out.

You and Jungkook laughed at how butthurt Yoongi was in the groupchat. Yoongi definitely was the most serious and blunt one in your group, but he still liked to party and have a good time. It was just how he was. Hoseok was always full of energy and probably the most extroverted one out of all 4 of you. He was never shy. You and Jungkook met Yoongi and Hoseok your first year in college and became inseparable ever since. You all just click with your different attributes.

[jungkook] 10:53pm: lmaoooooooo

[yoongi] 10:53pm: fuck you dude lol

[jungkook] 10:54pm: i'll come through in a sec, i'm at y/n's right now. not sure if she's gonna come though?

[y/n] 10:55pm: i'll pass, i'm tired and wined out.

[hoseok] 10:55pm: ahahahah yoongi shut up, blowing up my phone for no reason. i'm passing on tonight too. im tired from working that overtime *cries*

[yoongi] 10:56pm: you both are boring. i'm especially offended at how i didn't get an invite to your little powwow, y/n. and now you don't wanna hang out?

[hoseok] 10:57pm: she mentioned she was going to watch kevin hart's thing yesterday and offered us to swing by if we wanted to though....... selective hearing, maybe?

[y/n] 10:58pm: ^ okayyyyy and that's on period! thank you hobi <3

[hoseok] 10:59pm: anything for the baby

[yoongi] 10:59pm: lmao you're a brat, y/n. whatever, i'm still hurt by you both! kook, hurry on over so we can drink

"Fuck I regret this, I'm gonna die." Jungkook laughed as he stood up and stretched. He quickly helped you clean up before he figured it was time to go or else Yoongi would have a fit.

"I feel like it has to do with that one girl he's been talking to on and off."

"Perhaps." Jungkook shrugged before putting on his shoes. "We shall see." he sighs before giving you a tight hug. "You sure you don't wanna come out?"

"Nope."

"You don't even have plans tonight."

"Yes I do."

"Doing what?"

"Laying in bed." Jungkook snorted as you shook your head and shrugged. What else did he think you were trying to do? He should know you by now, at the very least.

"Alright, I'm not even going to argue. I'm off."

"Be safe, have fun, text me if you both need anything, okay?" He nods as he shuts the door, leaving you to your lonesome. You swirled the teeny tiny drop of wine leftover in your glass around before picking up your phone.

No new texts. Well, let's be specific: no new texts from taehyung.

You did forget to respond to your oldest cousin though, when he was just trying to check up on you.

[seokjin] 8:35pm: pssst y/n

[seokjin] 8:35pm: psssssssssst

[seokjin] 8:35pm: oyyyyyyyyyy

He was damn near 30 years old and hated talking on the phone so much that he decides to blow up your phone this way. But, he was the cousin you loved dearly and you had a very tight, sibling-like relationship with him. He was like the older brother you've always wanted. He watched you grow, protected you, kept you safe, supported you and cheered you on - especially when your family talked so much shit about how you and him weren't gonna get anywhere with your goals. You know, the fucking stupid ol' saying of 'chasing your passion isn't going to bring you money & wealth.' Your family was all about the titles and money, but Jin was passionate about cooking and wanted to open his own cafe. You, on the other hand, wanted to pursue your art. Jin was the biggest role model for you because he was the first to defy your family's wants and wishes. He was the black sheep of the family with a huge 'I don't give a fuck' mentality and he taught you that along the way.

Don't ever be afraid to do what you're passionate about. Fuck 'em.

[y/n] 11:13pm: hi sorry, jungkook was over and we were watching kevin hart's new thing on netflix over some wine and pizza.

[seokjin] 11:15pm: that sounds fun! sorry, i just wanted to check on you but i see you're doing okay lol

[y/n] 11:16pm: i am. :) i'll hang out with you tomorrow

[seokjin] 11:16pm: how sweet, my freeloading baby cousin is coming by

[y/n] 11:17pm: hahahah shut up! although you're not wrong, i am going to steal some food. but most importantly, i do want to hang out and see my bestest oppa <3

[seokjin] 11:18pm: awww y/n, you're so full of shit <3

[seokjin] 11:18pm: go to bed

[y/n] 11:19pm: haha love you tooooo

And so, that's what you did. You got yourself all ready for bed, believing you wouldn't be leaving your house tonight. You pampered yourself, put on a face mask and got yourself all lathered up in lotion just to lay down. You're in Jungkook's shirt that he left behind (and never looked for, so technically it's yours now) when the guys had stayed the night and some Vicky Secret panties.

You're scrolling through your Instagram feed, seeing Jungkook's newly posted story with him and Yoongi already at the bars, acting a damn fool. You laughed at the video he took of Yoongi trying to dance in a tight, awkward space on the crowded dance floor even though he was never the best at dancing. It lowkey made you wish you went out with them so you wouldn't be stuck here thinking about your feelings and how lonely these hours get.

And then you see Jimin's story from an hour ago. He knew you were friends with Yoongi, and although Yoongi wasn't fond of their group too much, he was still an avid party-goer and mingled with people there. You've only spoken to Jimin once because you had to work with him in the same group on a class assignment. You tried to keep it that way though because he was Taehyung's bestfriend. They went everywhere together, did everything together. He, too, was very popular among the ladies and across campus. I guess it was just their thing.

You assume they were at a party cause Jimin quickly flashes the camera at Taehyung, who's in front of him getting a lapdance from some chick. Jimin quickly turns the camera back to his face as he's laughing uncontrollably then abruptly cuts it off.

Great.

She's forsure going home with him tonight.

You set your phone down on the night stand and put on a show on your laptop to help you fall asleep.

Just as you're about to get some shut eye, your phone vibrates. You let it slip at first because you thought it could be one of the guys playing around, but it vibrates again, signaling another text coming through. You pick up your phone just to make sure Yoongi and Jungkook aren't in any trouble and need you to bail their asses out.

[taehyung] 12:17am: hey

[taehyung] 12:20am: come over.

You scoff at how he assumes you're still up and that you'd be coming over. You hated that. He knew he just had your ass.

track two: hit different - sza & ty dolla $ign

[mrwinterr]

Kissletoe

Pairing: College!Bucky Barnes AU x Female Reader

Summary: You’re not a fan of mistletoes. You think it’s an outdated Holiday tradition and an excuse for lovesick fools to steal a kiss. Unlucky for you, college parties are riddled with them this year and someone’s been trying to meet you under one all night.

Warnings: College shenanigans (no one cares in the real world). Smut 18+ (unprotected sex, vaginal penetration & fingering, oral [female receiving], handjob & attempted dirty talk/goofy sex?). Language. Mentions of drugs and alcohol. & bad Christmas pickup lines.

Title Inspiration: “Kissletoe” by 3OH!3

A/N: I’ve never been kissed under the mistletoe let alone attended a legit college party because I’ve been lame my whole life. 🔔 ‘Tis that season! 🎄 Happy Holidays, ya filthy, lovely readers! 🙋🏻‍♀️ Raise your hand if you’re on the naughty list this year! ❤️ Enjoy!

It’s the end of the college fall semester and for the majority of students, the only way to celebrate surviving finals week is to let loose and party, especially right before you’re all forced to go back home to visit family for the Holidays.

“Where do you think you’re going dressed like that?” You hear your friend and roommate Natasha ask.

You stop stuffing your belongings in a box and pause at her question to look down at your current attire - black leggings paired off with an oversized University college-style sweatshirt. You had your hair pulled up in a messy bun, your face clear of any make-up, and lastly your feet were clad in funky, fuzzy socks. This is what you normally wore inside the dorm around her, and you certainly didn’t need to dress to impress just to go home. What was she on about?

“Uh, home? Where else would I be going at the end of the semester?” You reply, an obvious answer.

“Don’t be a smartass,” she retorts, and is quick to follow up when she sees the knowing look on your face and mouth open to retaliate with an even sassy response, “and don’t even start!”

She knew you’d say something like you were exactly that, smart. You in fact had amazing grades and excelled in every course you’d enrolled in. You were confident that you’d aced your exams, so you’re not checking the portal every chance you could get to see if the professor had uploaded your grades yet.

“You’re not supposed to be leaving until Monday,” she reminded you.

“I know, but I mean, there’s no rule saying I had to stay here until then,” you clarify, continuing to pack up more of your things, “I’d rather much get a head start.”

“You’re that eager to get away from me, huh?” She says, feigning sadness.

“You’re the only thing I’m going to miss about college,” you assure her.

College was a different experience for everyone. It was an introduction to the real world. Some used it to start anew, to buckle down and make something of themselves, others used it as an extension to repeat four more years of high school.

You took your studies very seriously, especially if you wanted to maintain your scholarship. It was a known fact college wasn’t cheap and you were fortunate to be here on one. With all that aside, you still knew when to have some fun. After all, all work and no play, makes Jack a dull boy, right? You didn’t want to be that kind of person, you wanted to enjoy your college years, and luckily you had almost a polar opposite friend in Natasha to level you out.

“We just survived another week of finals,” she states, and grabbing your arms to stop you for just one second, “what better way to celebrate than partying?”  

She sees the conflicted look in your eyes, and can tell you’re weighing out the pros and cons. There were a lot of cons: you’d be surrounded by tons of people, most of which were going to be drunk as fuck or high out of their minds on whatever substance was passed around and the threat of getting taken advantage of by some stranger. The pros? You had some steam to let off and this was a chance to gather and see some of your other friends before the Holiday break. ‘Tis the season, right?

“I guess you’re right,” you start, beginning to compromise, “why not? It’ll be like a little send off,” you decide, throwing in a shrug, and that was it.

“We’re college kids, it’s our right,” Natasha shrugs, before digging into one of your boxes and pulling out one of your cute dresses. You could always count on her to help look good too.  

When you both take the short walk to the house, where tonight’s party would be taking place, you abruptly halt at the end of the front porch steps, breaking your locked arms with Natasha.

“Jesus, what’s wrong?” She curses lightly as she almost trips backwards.

“This house…” you start, taking a step back and look up to inspect it, squinting, as if that would do you any good in the dark.

“Yeah?” She asks, a little too impatient, obviously hiding something.

“It’s familiar,” you continue, still trying to find out why it was so. Usually, that wasn’t a good thing...

“Come on. What are you talking about? It’s just a house. Don’t think too much and have fun tonight!” She says, stomping back down the steps and grabbing your arm to drag you up towards the front door.

“I guess you’re right,” you say, giving up again. What were you so worried about?  

“Aren’t I always?” She comments, and is, again, quick to shut you down when she sees you open your mouth. She presses her finger to the doorbell just as your mouth closes, and you both await the host.

You look off to the side and stare at the Greek letters tacked onto the wall. You knew you weren’t going to let it go on trying to find out why this house looked so familiar. Then, just when you’ve figured it out, your eyes widen in realization, the grip around your arm intertwined with Natasha’s tightens, feeling your attempt to slip away. The door swings open and the voice that booms out of the person, verifies your answer.

“Well, well, well...the weather outside sure is frightful, but this,” Bucky Barnes starts out singing before looking only in your direction, “oh, seeing you, is so delightful,” ending in a somewhat serious note.

“God, I hate winter,” you comment off to the side. It earns you a jab from Natasha, silently asking you to play nice.

He greets Natasha and easily lets her slip past him into the house. You call out her name, appalled that she left you alone with Bucky. Wasn’t that some rule? Never leave your friends alone at a Frat party.

“You look beautiful,” Bucky says sincerely when it’s just the two of you, to which you don’t respond, but roll your eyes. You didn’t come here to get seduced or hit on, but nonetheless shiver, and logically you could blame it on the cold weather and not the way that comment from him made you feel, then attempt to get inside the warm house.

"Excuse me,” he says, holding out his arms on either side of the door frames, blocking your entrance both ways, “where is my Christmas kiss?“ he asks, leaning in close to you.

“What the hell are you talking about?” You ask incredulously and back away. You owed him no such thing, but when you see the sly smirk on his lips, and his head signal for you to look up, you discover a traditional mistletoe hanging right above your heads.

Bringing your head back to its regular position, you look him dead in the eyes, “I’m not going to kiss you under the mistletoe, Barnes,” you scoff at his attempt to smooch you.

“Why not?” He presses, shuffling his weight from one leg onto the other, and before you can even give him an answer, you both hear your name being shouted from behind him. Bucky whips his head back and you do your best to look over his shoulder.

It came from your friend Wanda, who was excitedly waving you over to her. You smile and wave back at her, internally grateful that luck was on your side at this moment. Bucky turns back around and stares at you, wondering how to pick back up on your conversation, but when he doesn’t come up with anything, he sighs defeatedly, drops his arms and finally lets you in.

You make your way over to Wanda engulfing her with a huge hug. Natasha was close by, sipping on her drink. You’ll grill her later for leaving you alone with Bucky. She knew not to do that, but she did it at every chance she got. Now, you knew why she brought you to this specific house party.

“You weren’t planning on leaving without a proper farewell, were you?” Wanda asked worriedly. You immediately pieced together that Natasha had ratted you out on your attempt to leave campus and head back home early.

“It’s not forever, Wan,” you assure her. It was literally only for a few weeks, but while everyone would probably only be a few hours away from each other or a few states apart different, Wanda would be flying back to her home country to spend the Holidays with her family. You’ll admit, you could’ve been a little more considerate and sensitive.

“I’ll still miss you,” she says, the admission melting your heart, not even thinking about how the separation would be on others.

“She’s right, it’s not forever,” Natasha interjects, not allowing for any sad vibes on your last few hours of the semester together, “let’s make some memories tonight,” she says before handing you a drink.

Bucky, as hard as he tried to cover it up, rejoins his group of friends, Steve and Sam, sulking. He’d gotten you alone again, but failed, and he vowed to never give up. He had a crush on you, simple as that, but you were playing hard to get, and all this time spent on playing cat and mouse when you could be doing other things.

“Man, just save yourself from any further embarrassment and give up,” Sam tells him while also handing him a drink of his own, which Bucky accepts and quickly takes a swig from.

“Never,” he said, determined and slightly winces at the burn in his throat, his body almost warming in an instant, “I’m gonna get my Holiday kiss.”

“Why do you even care? You’re usually not one behind this Holiday shit,” he asks, looking around the crowded room.

“I’m not, but it gives me a reason to get close to her,” Bucky admits pathetically, staring into the red solo cup before taking the last swig, crushing it in his hand and air balling it to the trash.

“Dude!” Steve chastises him about adding onto the mess they’d have to clean afterwards, to which Bucky shrugs at.

“You can’t expect her to just kiss anyone under the mistletoe,” Steve reminds him. He knew it wasn't an easy conquest for any guy to gain your affection.

“I’ve been a good boy this year, alright, I’m gonna get her to see what she’s been looking for has been in front of her this whole time,” Bucky says trying not to sound or look as predatory as he watched you disappear into the kitchen with your friends.

You suppose the saying rules were meant to be broken, were taken a bit too literal by your friends, even college party rules because you’re left alone again. Wanda had abandoned the trio for some alone time with her boyfriend, who everyone dubbed Vision or Vis for short due to how outrageously innovative he was. Natasha decided to partake in a classic game of beer pong, something you incredibly sucked at, so there was no way she was going to recruit you as her partner nor were you interested in standing there awkwardly watching the game go on.

Surprisingly, the only place that seemed to be of a quiet enough spot to think was the backyard patio. You could see there was a fire lit and some other students scattered or sprawled on the grass. Quickening your pace, you manage to claim a vacant lawn chair next to the fire and hope you’d stay warm and at peace.

There you start to think that being in attendance tonight would’ve made no difference. Natasha was just good at persuading you into things. Call it peer pressure or whatever, but you put your faith and trust in her to not believe she’d ever steer you in the wrong direction, so why were you so bothered being here?

“You know, refusing to kiss someone under the mistletoe is bad luck,” you hear the voice of the reason why.

“I don’t believe in that bullshit,” you respond, watching as he plops down on the empty seat next to you.

“Really? Then why haven’t you been out on a date in so long?” he asks tauntingly.

“How would you know?” You ask a bit offended.

Why was he so concerned about your love life? You were never close with Bucky growing up and if anyone was of an impression you were, it was only because of Steve, who welcomed everyone, and that included you when you moved into the neighborhood when you were a little girl.

All throughout elementary school, until things started developing, puberty probably, it further separated you from Bucky. Steve blossomed a little later in life, so it helped solidify a good friendship with him, the same couldn’t be said for Bucky. You didn’t hate him, just got annoyed by his harmless teasing.

“I’ll have you know I have other priorities,” your attempt at an excuse was subtle, but you didn’t owe him an explanation anyways.

“Sure,” he says in a tone that suggests he didn’t believe you.

You watch as he lights up a cigarette, takes a small drag, and the cloud of smoke puffing out from his lips. He notices your stare and digs into his coat pocket, fishing out the pack before offering you one. You accept and pluck one out of the carton, he follows up with sticking out his lighter and you lean in closer to him to place the end of your stick against the flame.

You weren’t going to deny the relieving effect the nicotine had running through your body. College was stressful and while you weren’t one to abuse substances, a hit every now and then helped calm your nerves.

“So why is it you won’t kiss anyone under the mistletoe?” He asks, leaning back on the plastic chair, his head turning to the side, full attention on you.

He was enchanted by the girl, who grew up into a beautiful young woman, sitting next to him, slowly killing herself with every inhale and exhale of the cigarette between her lips, but you weren’t just attractive to Bucky, you were every bit incredible to him. You were smart, helpful, loyal to your friends and he was just misguided sometimes in life that led you to astray from him.

“It’s just an excuse for guys to steal a kiss from some poor girl...for lonely people to fake love,” you said almost bitterly.

Truth was, you had a bitter experience with a guy who’d led you on in high school after accidentally hearing that he could bet his friends he could get you to make out with him and he’d do so by using a mistletoe as a ruse.

Bucky detected some distaste in your response but decides not to interrogate you on it any further. There’d been a lot of growing up between the two of you since you’d both been estranged during your teenage years, and certain life events were missed on either party. So, where did you both stand in each other's lives now? You weren’t sure if you could call each other friends. It wasn’t easy to avoid Bucky, what with all the mutual friends and classes you shared, including the same street back home.

“I didn’t throw this party just to see everyone before they leave or to celebrate the end of finals,” he reveals, after several, somber minutes of silence, the cigarettes in your hands quickly burning out.

“Then why did you?” You ask curiously, meeting his gaze.

“To see you,” he simply admits. It was vague.

“How’d you even know I’d show up?” You quiz him.

“Because I begged Natasha to convince you,” he freely says, exposing his plan.

You were a smart person, but you couldn’t figure Bucky out. Why would he do that? Or for that matter, say something like that. What was his endgame here?

“Tis the fuckin’ season,” you comment offhand, getting up from the seat to leave. You stomp out your cigarette and prepare to head back inside and bid your farewells.

You’re just about to step through the threshold, when you feel a large hand wrap around your arm, halting you in place in the middle of the sliding screen door.

“Am I really that bad?” He inquires, and you know he’s not asking about just kissing him under the mistletoe anymore. Bucky always wore his heart on his sleeve, no matter how tough he appeared to be. It fooled a lot of people, sometimes you included, but in this moment, he seemed to genuinely be concerned about your perspective about him.

You were too grown to blame how the course of your relationship with Bucky had gone south on silly teenage phases. You knew it was much deeper than that, it was how sad it made you feel.

You’d harbored a small crush on him back then and it was cruel to see him grow into a handsome, charming guy and go out with other girls. He never showed an interest in you in the past and it was getting exhausting trying to get his attention, it was proving to be a distraction in your life, so it was then you’d vowed to focus on yourself and the life ahead of you, a life that didn’t revolve or involve Bucky.

However, a part of you, the risky and impulsive part of you, said you had less than a handful of months left before you were set to walk the stage and graduate. If you did what you were about to do, you could avoid Bucky for just one more semester, then you’d move far, far away and most likely never see him again. With a quick glance up, you give in to the idea of this side of you, lean in and plant your lips on Bucky’s soft ones.

Bucky is left dumbfounded, eyes still half closed when you pull away. He was shocked, caught off guard, and you by a totally different notion. You like him, you’ve always liked him.

It was a decent kiss if anyone would’ve caught it, at least you hoped it appeared it was, and that Bucky could convince you of it being so…

“You said kissing under the mistletoe is for lonely people to fake love...so then why do I feel so alive?” he asks you in a daze.

He doesn't succeed in convincing you.

How you’d both managed to move past that scene at the doorway without raising suspicion was beyond you two. The fact you both found a vacant room was an even more impressive feat at the moment.

“You better have locked that door,” you say, attempting to make it sound like a threat, but with you underneath him, you were anything but.

Shoes scattered along the pathway to the bed, his thick jacket following in suit. You’d managed to pull your lips back from his, but he couldn’t keep his off of yours as they trailed from the corner of your lips, along your jawline and down your neck. You feel his tongue drag just along your pulse, causing your hips to thrust up. You let out a moan at what you felt through his jeans and how he started sucking and nibbling over the spot he’d licked.

“Why? Don’t want everyone finding out how naughty you actually are?” He questions back teasingly with a cocky grin, and as he tugs at the sleeves of his unbuttoned shirt.

You don’t have a comeback for him, but instead you lightly shove him back and try to escape from underneath, hoping to get through to him and show you’re in fact serious. The last thing you wanted was for any of your friends to walk in on you two in the act.

“Relax!” He says, also sitting up and reaching out and pulling you back to him, “I locked it,” he assures, leaning in closer, “not even Santa will know what we’re doing,” then his lips reclaim yours, his tongue delving in your mouth. You’re once more on your back, lips locked and heavy. Had you known kissing Bucky was this good, you’d have kissed him earlier.

Bucky’s hands run up your thighs, snake their way underneath, you feel his fingers ghost over your scantily clad pussy. The tingling sensation causes the feeling in the pit of your stomach to brew.

“You want me to touch you?” He asks huskily while still pecking your lips.

“Yes,” you almost immediately answer, desperate for his touch.

“How bad?” Oh, he knows how bad, but he had so much fun watching you crumble.

“Bucky,” you start to whine.

“Tell me...how bad do you want me to touch you,” he repeats slowly.

“Fuck you,” you bite back. He was really going to make you say it, “I want you to touch me so bad...please, Bucky,” you quickly give in.

Bucky rewards you with a deep kiss as you feel him hook a finger on the thin slit of your panties and pull them to the side. He runs a long finger between your folds, and he pulls his lips away to inhale sharply.

“You’re so wet,” he states the obvious, bringing that same hand up to his lips to lick the pad of his thumb so he could start rubbing circles on your clit. You bite your lip and stare at him, he’s watching you carefully, loving how hard you’re trying to hold back.

“You want to be a good girl?” He asks, and you nod, “then don’t hold back. Stop fighting me, and I’ll make you come hard with just my fingers,” he bargains. You want to call him on his bluff, but he’s the one with the upper hand - literally. “But first…,” he starts, sitting up on his knees, hands back at his sides so he could scoot down lower on the bed, “...I want to taste this pussy,” his voice deep, and almost dangerous.

He pushes the end of your dress up, bunching it at the waist, to reveal your cute underwear. He pauses for a split second, “Holiyay indeed” he says to himself, reading the embezzled design on the front of your thong. You don’t even roll your eyes in annoyance anymore, because maybe if you kept quiet and submissive enough, you’ll finally get to come.

When he rids you of the garment, Bucky uses his fingers to spread your wet lips before running his tongue flat against it, only narrowing out when it reaches your clit. He spends a little more time at your there, circling it with his tongue, lightly kissing and sucking at it. His fingers start rubbing you, tracing the rim of the opening, while his mouth was still busy at work.

You're all but writhing from the buildup, your chest heaving up and down, stomach clenching tight from his doing, not prepared for when he inserts a finger inside your wet hole. You audibly gasped and reached a hand towards him, but he swats it away. You dare pick your head up to watch, and you’re met with his eyes, full of lust, looking up at you, but his mouth still latched onto your pussy. You can feel his finger slide in and out of you slowly, your mouth open displaying how good he’s making you feel.

In fact, it’s too good you’re not in control of your legs anymore as they kick and squirm at the feeling he’s bestowing on you, so he removes his finger away from you only to maneuver into a position where he could hook his arms under legs and basically slam your back down on the bed. You unconsciously start chanting his name, like a silent prayer for him to touch you down there again.

Your head is a little fuzzy, body on fire; you want to burst. Unable to pick up your head, you cast your eyes down on him just in time to see him spit on your already soaking cunt. You watch as he uses his fingers to spread the wetness all over before slipping two fingers inside of you.

The intrusion causes you to groan and back to arch, and you can’t help but grab at any part of the arm that his hand going to work on you, just making sure it doesn't go away until it gets the job done. He chuckles lightly at your eagerness with your hips bucking up at his palm.

“I promised I’d let you come, right?” He points out, which you nod fervently, loosen your grip and attempt to keep your hips at bay, so he could fulfill his promise. You feel his finger push in about knuckle-deep and curl inside, causing you to choke out a dry sob. You begin to bite your lip, hard, when he does it again and again.  

Your hands are on autopilot, trying to heighten the pleasure your body was being coursed with, and they grab handfuls of your breasts, still confined in your dress. You squeeze and squish them together, anything to help you find that release sooner. Bucky’s gaze catches onto your moves and licks at his lips, the sight of your breasts threatening to spill out offers him a taste of what’s still yet to be unwrapped.

He speeds up his efforts, they’re proven efficient as you start clenching tight around his fingers, your arousal also coating the palm of his hand. He whispers tiny praises as you try to recover from the first orgasm. You swallow the lump in your throat and run your hands over your face, almost dazed and bewildered that Bucky was capable of pulling something like that out of you.  

Your legs fall limp on the bed, the silence broken by Bucky, “such a sweet pussy,” he compliments, and you take a peek between your fingers to see his fingers pop out of his mouth from sucking his digits clean.

“Do you want to unwrap your gift?” He asks, crawling over to you. You manage to sit up, your body supported by your propped elbows, so Bucky is slightly hovering over you. You nod at his question and he brings one hand behind your head to swoop you in for a sweet kiss. You use both hands to hold his face in place to make the kiss last just a little longer.

Bucky reluctantly pulls away though so he could grab at the bunched fabric of your dress and pull it over your head, leaving you completely bare in front of him. He swears, eyes running over every part of you before sitting upright on his knees again.

You lean in and reach with both hands to unbuckle his belt, the clinking of metal sounding loud, button popping off in haste, and dragging the zipper down. You yank down at his fitted jeans to reveal the imprint of his hard cock under his boxer briefs. Fuck, he was big, that much you could see. You couldn’t keep your grabby hands away as you palm him through the fabric, his cock twitching at the indirect contact.

“Take it out,” he instructs, and you look up perilously at him, eyes begging him to confirm, “...it’s yours, baby girl,” and it was all the assurance you needed to peel his boxers down.

You wrap your hands around his length and start pumping him languidly. He was already hard and no doubt fully erect, but you immediately found how good it felt in your hands. With every pump, his pre-cum pools at the head, and with each trip your hands make up to the tip, they travel back down with the substance, effectively lathering him up and making him slick enough for an easy entry.

“I want to fuck you so bad,” he admits when you give his member an experimental squeeze, your fingers curl around him, the tips grazing along his balls.

Leaning in to place light kisses to his pecs, you look up at him, “well, you’ve been a good boy, so do it,” you say, hands retreating as you lie back down, “...fuck me, Bucky.”

Bucky lets out a low growl, kicks his bottoms away, and climbs back on top of you. He reaches down to grab his cock and starts running it up and down the length of your sex, causing your body to shudder. You could feel the ridges and just how hard he got before he slowly slid his cock inside. There’s a tiny sting on his entrance as his thick cock stretches your walls.

“Mmm, baby, it’s cold outside,” he starts playfully singing, “...but you, you’re so warm,” kissing your cheek, getting you to relax; not realizing you had held your breath trying to bear through the initial pain, “...and so wet,” he says pulling out with a lewd noise, before thrusting all the way back in, bottoming out.  

He starts off sweet and slow, and while you liked that on some occasion, now wasn’t one of them. Bucky’s cock probed at your spot almost instantly and you found out you didn’t want to prolong the euphoric ending. His hands slip around your smaller frame, pulling your body up, closer to his, while his hips moved in waves crashing harder and harder into yours.

His face buried into the mattress next to your face, you hear his breathy moans, and you love that he doesn’t hold them back the slightest. Who didn’t like to hear how good the other person was making them feel, right? You grip and pull at his hair, while the other gabs at his buttocks, feeling it flex with each snap of his hips, and your legs tangled with his. Sweat that had built up on your bodies make the movements sloppy, muscles beginning to ache, both of you were about to peak.

“God, you feel so good,” he says, picking his head up, his hair matted and messy, he still looked sexy, “...you gonna come all over my cock now?” His words fuel you and your hips start driving into his, making him eat his own words, “fuck, baby, you’re gonna make me cum!”

“Yes, Bucky,” you coo, your hands gripping his sides, loving the feeling of his hard body, slick and warm to the touch, “...come,” you try coaxing him, but one particular thrust rips right through you and your walls start clenching him tighter than the fit.

You only finish the command when you’re riding the waves of the aftershock, “come on, Bucky, I want it...inside, please.” You definitely picked up on the fact that he liked to hear you beg and be specific with your wants.

Bucky soon stills, spurts of his hot cum splatter your walls that continue to flutter around his cock. His climax spreads warmth all over your lower body. Your limbs, both arms and legs, wrap around his exhausted body. He carefully drops his bodyweight on you, mindful of not suffocating you in the process.

When he’s regained regular breathing, using one of his hands, he reaches behind him in search of yours before interlocking your fingers and just holding it, you hold onto each other. Bucky picks up his head and stares at your hand in his, you follow his gaze and join him. They fit with one another perfectly, and even so, the light squeeze he gives it, lets you know it also felt right.

“Well, where have you two been?” Sam says loudly, announcing you and Bucky’s arrival, rejoining your group of friends. Wanda and Vision close to each other, his arm around her frame, Natasha standing in between Sam and Steve, a refilled cup in each of their hands.

“I have been trying to escape this crazed man all night,” you playfully exaggerate.

“And yet you’ve managed to keep failing,” Bucky chimes in smugly, a cute smirk running across his features. This unearthed feeling testing your willpower to keep up with appearance and show resistance.

“Yeah, no thanks to my so-called friends,” pinning the blame on the two females in the room. Wanda turns red, guilty and slightly awful for abandoning you, but Natasha has a different reaction. She’s got that knowing smile on her face. It’s small, but very strong.

You watch as her eyes divert to the ceiling, you follow her gaze and then when you both look back at each other, the smile on her face turns into a full-blown smirk. There’s a collective sound of “oh’s” from everyone, noting the mistletoe above you and Bucky.

Turning to Bucky, who looks like he doesn’t know what to do, just stands there staring at you, not knowing what to expect. You’re supposed to act like nothing happened or reveal anything to your friends just yet, so he mentally prepares for a rebuttal to your impending rejection or insult to kiss him. Nothing could’ve prepared him for what you do instead.

You place a hand on the back of his neck and pull him down to you and smash your lips together. Bucky’s hands immediately grab a hold of your hips, he’d have to get used to the lightheaded feeling when he’s close to you.

The kiss is slow and probably not appropriate to be deemed as a simple traditional mistletoe kiss, but you both can’t help it and continue to allow your lips to slide against one another’s before there’s a rise of cheers, whistling and howls around you, shattering the bubble.

When you pull apart, you reluctantly walk away from Bucky and head to where Natasha stood, steal the cup from her hand and finish off the remainder of her drink, all while staring straight at her. She knew. Only when you’re done with the last sip, you give her the same small, sly smile. There are no words exchanged, and none needed.

“Guess, you have been a good boy this year, Barnes,” Sam jokes, but regardless is proud of his friend.

“Third time's the charm,” Bucky says casually, shrugging like it was no big deal, as if he hadn’t been desperately chasing you all night. You shake your head at his silliness, but nonetheless smile at him, your heart skipping a bit.

Who knew what you’d been looking for was hanging underneath the doorway staring at you face-to-face this whole time?

A/N: I can confidently say, I used one of these Christmas puns as a pickup line on a guy recently and it worked in my favor! Shoot your shot but stay safe in more than one way; these are them trying times. Also, the underwear thing is a real design I saw while looking through Victoria’s Secret sales…lol. 

🎁 Gift me a like, reblog, comment - anything, please! 🥺💖

[halaboyz]

–– PHOTOGRAPH // CHANHEE.

pairing: photographer! chanhee x  fem! reader genre: fluff, bffs to lovers word count: 2k warnings // notes: profanities, cliche, cheesy things and shitty effort of making lines ;; happiest birthday to our choi chanhee!! may he be blessed for his heart full of love <3

"You're coming to my exhibit, right?" He said as he hands you one of the tickets, and you chuckling because of the name of his exhibit.

"What kind of name is this?" You stifled a laugh, "My Art Speaks Words I Want to Deliver to You,"

Chanhee watches you hold on to dear life as you burst out laughing, wiping the tears that have escaped your eyes.

"Well, if only the linguistic major here helped me pick out some words I don't even know exists," He glares at you, "Then maybe we could've picked a better name, am I right?" He rolls his eyes as you calmed down, finally taking a seat beside him on the couch.

“Okay, okay Mr. grumpy, I’m sorry,” You said between laughter. Looking at the time and date, you nod, your smile slowly fading to a frown.

“What’s wrong? You can’t come again?” He frowns with you, a pout coming out of his lips. Your heart broke by the sight, knowing that even if he had hundreds of exhibits already, you haven’t come to one because of work.

“I’m afraid I’m gonna have to miss this one too,” You tackled him into a hug. “I have a very important meeting set by last minute,” You mumbled against the crook of his neck, causing him to whine.

“I was so sure you’d go to this one though..” You hear him mumble, as a sigh came out. 

“How are you so sure?” You raised your eyebrows at him, sitting up. 

“I checked your schedule!” He exclaimed, getting the ticket from you. “I can’t help it. You always have work when I handle an exhibit and wow, are you still my best friend?” He dramatically stands up, making his way to the other couch in front of you.

“Aw,” You whined, tailing him and throwing yourself at him again making him groan. “Give me that,” You reach for the ticket, only to be pulled by Chanhee again.

“Can’t you just cancel it?” He pouts, looking desperate.

“Look, I’m not the client. I can’t just cancel whenever,” You pressed his cheeks together, wiggling his face. “But give me the ticket. If they can set meetings last minute, they might cancel things last minute too. We’ll never know,” You reached higher, grabbing the ticket.

Chanhee huffed, making you lose your footing and it all happened so fast, you instinctively put out your elbow to support your fall– well, on the floor. You didn’t know Chanhee had that goddamn fast reflexes as he pulls you close to him, making you elbow his.. danger zone.

You shrieked as chanhee silently suffers, his face saying it all. 

“Oh my fucking god..” You muttered, pressing your lips to a thin line to stop yourself from bursting in laughter. 

Chanhee lets out a small groan as you slowly remove your elbows, your face mirroring Chanhee’s pained face.

“I’m so sorry,” You mumble, letting out a small laugh.

“I’d kill you if you laugh right in front of me,” He sighs out, crouching and wriggled his body all over the couch.

You were red. Oh, no. Not because of what just happened, but because you were stopping yourself from laughing. You knew Chanhee meant every word he said.

“You should fucking go at my exhibit after busting my balls,” He mumbled against the throw pillow.

“Hey! Not my fault you pulled me!”

You were redder. Oh, no. Not because you were now suppressing your laughter, but how you remembered how close Chanhee was to you just minutes ago if it weren’t for his unfortunate luck.

He suddenly stands up, wincing.

“Are you kidding me?! If it weren’t for me, you’re injured and crying and we’re probably on the way to the hospital right now!” He sighs out, the pain finally fading second by second.

You fanned yourself, trying to focus on what your friend was saying.

“Anyways,” You shake your head. “I’ll do my best.” You smile at him apologetically before sticking out your tongue, and ending the night while getting tackled by Chanhee– as if he was possessed by Changmin.

You bounced your feet continuously, waiting for your client. You just prayed for it to be really, really short to get to Chanhee’s exhibition. 

You knew how important this was to him, and it broke your heart that as his best friend, you can’t even go to one. 

Or was it because you’re starting to see Chanhee in a whole, different light?

There are a few times that your heart thumped abnormally at the sight of Chanhee frowning, and you can’t put your finger on which emotion was it. Did it hurt you because you were his best friend and you can’t go, or did it hurt because you were still a best friend? Either way, if it were the latter, if you were his girlfriend– no, you didn’t deserve him. 

You can’t even make time for him as a best friend, how’d you do if you were his?

Starting to overthink, you were thankful by the sound of your phone rang for a second, signaling a message.

chanhee: go or this friendship is over. grr sent 3:35pm

You knew he was joking. Partly, you guess. Or maybe not. You suddenly became nervous, your feet bouncing doubled. You sip on the drink, you had twenty-five minutes left to run over his exhibit, but the client–

You jump as your phone suddenly rang, making you tremble. Your client was finally calling, after being late for fifteen minutes already.

And oh my god, your heart could have burst from the news. You hailed a taxi as fast as you can, and the smile on your face can’t stop rising.

Finally. You were finally getting to see his exhibit.

You smile more at the thought, more to expect of Chanhee’s reaction. You felt nervous, excited, and giddy. It wasn’t the first time seeing Chanhee’s works, as he’d been part of the photography club since college, but it still made you excited and proud of what he’s become.

You sighed in relief as you look outside, the big name– My Art Speaks Words I Want to Deliver to You welcoming you. 

3:50.

Ten minutes. You just need to run, no biggie. 

“Hi, I’m uh.. Chanhee’s friend.” You smile at the guard, handing him your ticket while still trying to catch your breath.

“Oh! You’re! You’re! You’re the friend!” He exclaimed, excitedly opening the door for you. “You’re just in time! Well, technically, you’re.. running a bit late but! Doesn’t matter. You’re finally here!” You just look at him confusingly, nodding your head as you roam your eyes on the big place.

Your heartbeat is twice as fast more than running. 

You felt combusting quite literally. Your eyes wandered to each picture, letting it sink in that those in the pictures..

Were you.

It was all you.

There were only a few people left, smiling as they take in every photograph that wasn’t even them.

“These are so sweet. The name of the exhibit literally says it all,” A woman in her middle 30s, you guess, said as she clung to her probably husband’s arm.

“It does. The photographer’s indeed talented. Even makes me giddy,” You chuckle as you eavesdropped, reverting your attention back to the pictures.

All was black and white.

But it didn’t matter.

What colored his world was you– it has always been you. 

A black and white picture doesn’t do justice to how much light you bring to his dull world, it was just you that he needed in order to make a simple black and white picture to be beautiful.

Your smile. It was one of the things he loved seeing, he loved taking a picture of. It made everyone around you smile too, and it made him upset that it wasn’t just him making you smile.

Your hair, how every single hairstyle suits you, how it flows across your face, and how you always brush it back when it frustratingly gets in your face. One of his favorites and loved taking a picture of it along with the pout on your face.

Your eyes, which spoke a thousand words and held millions of stars and also one of the millions of things he loved about you, and seeing it on a picture didn’t make sense as you needed to see it in person to make you feel butterflies on your stomach.

Every move you did was captured on his camera, and you didn’t even realize the tears have already gone out of your eyes.

He made you beautiful.

He made you feel beautiful,

Because you always were.

You didn’t need to be pretty in everybody’s eyes, you just needed him. 

You were already in the last picture, and oh were you certain chanhee wasn’t the one who took this. You felt thankful enough Changmin, your other friend, had quite the skills in taking pictures too because this.. was just perfect. 

You didn’t need to be pretty in everybody’s eyes, you just needed him. Because he is what completed you.

It was a picture taken afar of you sleeping in the library on one of your college days, and Chanhee was supporting his head with his palm, looking– just looking at you with heart eyes.

“Oh my fucking god,” You sighed out, crouching as you messily wiped your tears away, though it still kept on spilling.

“You’re finally here.” That sweet, familiar voice that enchanted you sighed out, from the corner of the four-walled place. He was leaning on the wall, looking as if he had finally had the burden out of his chest. “So, what do you think?”

Just like the pictures, you didn’t need words. You just throw yourself at him, nuzzling against his neck as you cried like a baby.

He sighs out again, relieved, as he buried himself more to you and engulfing each other’s warmth. His hands continued to calm you down by caressing your back, and you tried your best to stop crying.

Chanhee pulls back, taking your face to his hands and wiping your tears away.

“Hey, look at me,” He leans closer to you, lifting your face up softly. “If you didn’t get the whole point of this exhibition then.. I might just smack you in the face.” 

You let out a small defeated laugh, wiping the tears yourself.

“I love you too if that was what it meant.” You look at him straight in the eyes, slouching your shoulders. You took his face into your hands too, pressing your lips softly in his.

He smiled in the kiss, his hands making their way to your neck as he kisses you back.

More than perfect.

The moment you were both out of breath, you break the kiss but let your foreheads linger with each other, smiles on your faces.

“Just.. how many times have you tried doing this?” You whisper, taking ahold of his hand and intertwining your fingers. 

You pull him in front of the last picture you’ve seen, now clear as ever without your tears on the way.

“Oh, I think out of my hundred and fifty exhibits you missed,” You roll your eyes, the sarcasm his voice spilling. “It's my 98th try. That’s why I really needed you to come.” He looks at you, thinking it was much better seeing you in person rather than just a photograph– as if it's like the first time seeing you all over again.

“And if I didn’t come? Would you really have the guts to break this friendship?” You face him back, taking his other hand.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant I’d take it in my own hands and just.. straight up confess.” He craned his head sideward, challenging you.

“I’d been feeling very weird these days too, I just realized how much I am so in love with you if it weren’t for your art speaks words I want to deliver to me,” You chuckle, making him throw his head back.

Perfect.

Chanhee loved everything about photography, and he loved photography because it’s able to take what’s beautiful and he can cherish it forever. He loved it because not only it can take pictures of his friends, or nature, or what he found beautiful and calming, but it has the power to turn everything into a memory he can keep. He loved photography, he loved taking a picture of you, he loved you.