#and she asked what id rather be called

[nickbutnodick]

a funny thing ive noticed since coming out as trans is sometimes someone will deadname/misgender me and it is COMPLETELY an accident and they immediately act like they just shot my dog. theyre like "oh no! are you okay? im so so sorry" and theyll be super sincerely sorry about it and im just like "lol its fine"

this may be an unforseen side effect of my threatening to kill anyone who misgenders/deadnames me

[wuthering-tempest]

A little misty told me you have a sinner oc and I haven’t been able to find an oc tag or anything, so please tell me about em or gimme the tag or whatever you’re comfy with!

-Ink Anon

OHHH HI!! I don't really have a tag for her here because I haven't actually posted her much on this account and I'm always really shy about fan ocs but 👉👈 i'll put most info/extra drawings under the readmore, a lot of her outfit/design is still a wip so forgive the messiness

Meet Captain Nemo! She's based directly around Jules Verne's Nemo of 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea/Journey Through The Impossible/The Mysterious Island! She is an extremely intelligent and knowledgeable woman, but alternates often between calculated aloofness and bouts of impassioned agitation and can occasionally be provoked into furious outbursts, especially now that she's been dredged up from hiding.

She's got a very complicated past with many fixer associations and syndicates alike, and her place of origin is a complete mystery, as is her real name and reason for why she's so averse to life in the City and disdainful of it's many rules. Whatever it is that caused her to be this way is what pushed her to craft the Nautilus, her beloved magnum opus made of various tech from all across the City. She originally intended to use the ship to completely escape the City and it's rules, but due to mysterious circumstances that she refuses to speak on, the ship and much of it's crew have disappeared without a trace.

Her distinct habits include introducing herself to strangers by a wide variety of pseudonyms, a knowledge of many languages and codes, her general quietness unless something directly involves her input or expertise, smoking very particular cigars, and a strong dislike and surprising inability to remain impartial when matters of the impoverished people (especially children) of the Backstreets are involved.

As for actual gameplay, Her base ID does slashing Gloom and Pride, with some applying bleed count and others applying rupture potency. Her weapon, Nautile, is composed of three chakrams inlaid like an astrolabe, with the largest having a handle in the middle. It seats into a glove on her right hand, but can also connect to either side of a tactical harness she wears and can be hidden by her LC coat in case she doesn't need it ready! Her base E.G.O., Infini Vivant, is Wrath affinity and themed upon the electric ampoule-based gun Captain Nemo used to hunt underwater, and does piercing bleed damage and adds rupture count.

Although I like to think of scenarios where she would interact with canon sinners (she would have a preference for those like Ishmael and Meursault and a dislike of those like Outis and Hong Lu), she's more treated as a Sinner who exists in a noncanon smaller mobile unit dedicated to working with the LCD and handling things like Monoliths and Distortions.

[whomturgled]

:^(

[izzy-b-hands]

Cancelled the in person interview for today after discussing phone interview with Mum and Housemate last night (and the numerous red flags and cost of the lyft there and back for a job that ultimately the place wouldn't be able to convince me to take if offered, bc the general consensus was 'this is literally likely to be as bad as the current job BUT with the added cost of lyfts back and forth that they wouldn't be paying enough to offset, why on earth would you (me) take this job lmaooooo')

Which works out good bc the ongoing Mum trauma stuff is hitting hard as soon as I've woken and maybe I can get the Big Cry out today. Or write down any of the memories that have been playing on repeat in my mind

(with all this said, yes, I still asked and do legitimately care abt my mum's opinion and experience with jobs despite this; yes it feels weird; no I don't know how healthy that is or not lmao but I'm gonna lean towards Not Healthy bc im discovering that the work my previous doc did certainly uncovered this codependency and trauma which absolutely was a great help but like...we didn't actually really untangle any of it so I could try and untangle myself from my mum, even from 1600+ miles from one another. So. probably not healthy.)

[gold-onthe-inside]

Request (slightly nsfw): Spencer comes into work and doesn’t info dump in the briefing. The team questions him and turns out he cut his tongue on his gf’s piercing.

tongue-tied

who? spencer reid x bau!reader (no use of y/n, called cupcake by morgan) content warnings: a little making out and a little foreplay, doesn't really get past that word count: 1.6k songs: say when by the fray a/n: i really struggled balacing the line between banter and bullying for derek and spencer, but consider it early seasons where derek doesn't know where to draw the line <3

They weren't even supposed to be working today, but it's not like crises come scheduled, and who was to blame Spencer for starting his Saturday morning with a little enthusiasm?

He liked taking his time with his girlfriend (a fact that still felt unreal to him, the word itself felt so strange in his mouth), kissing every inch of her. She was like poetry. Everything about her drew Spencer to her. He took her all in - every breath, every movement, the way she arched up into him. His girlfriend. He still wasn’t entirely used to the concept, but that was what he enjoyed about this slow Saturday morning. He had time to memorise every inch, his fingers gently tracing over her skin.

His mouth trailed up to her ear, feeling her shiver, and then a jolt of pain stabbed through his tongue, catching on the back of her piercing. He let out a slight hiss, drawing back. “Ah…” Spencer’s hand lifted, gently dabbing at his tongue, the pain spreading across his mouth.

"What happened?" you asked, looking at him, concerned, tucking strands of hair behind your ear.

“Your earrings…” Spencer ran his tongue over the roof of his mouth, his face twisting at the lingering sting.

You tutted, sitting up. "Show me."

Spencer obeyed, opening his mouth and sticking out his tongue to show her. A small bead of blood pooled in the centre, a testament to the tiny yet rather painful wound.

"Hold on, I probably have some glycerin somewhere," you said, shifting off his lap and towards her wardrobe, rummaging through a drawer.

Spencer raised a quizzical eyebrow at her, slightly amused despite his uncomfortable injury. “What kind of person just has glycerin laying around?”

"The kind who eats pizza too quickly when it's hot," you replied, returning with a small bottle and a cotton bud. "Open up."

Spencer’s mouth curled up in a smile, which was quickly interrupted by a brief wince as she used the soaked cotton bud to apply the glycerin. “Well, at least it’ll taste good this way…” he teased, poking his tongue back out.

You chuckled as you dabbed at the cut, and their phones rang simultaneously, making your shoulders sag.  "With that kind of unity, it must be Hotch."

Spencer grumbled slightly, reluctantly leaving the bed to reach for his phone on the nightstand. “I was hoping for a quiet Saturday…” he mumbled, lifting his phone. Sure enough, Hotch’s name was on the caller ID.

"Ha, no such thing," you scoffed, grabbing your own phone and answering JJ as you grabbed an outfit from your closet.

Talking hurts. In fact, everything that hits his tongue sends a sliver of sharp pain, and so he's uncharacteristically short with everyone, which raises more than a few eyebrows in the briefing.

"No statistic on that to bring up?" Emily asked, her smile teasing and even Derek's got a laugh that he's masking.

"Didn't seem relevant," he said quickly, withholding a wince, and it was like you could sense the danger of getting caught when you brought up a question to Rossi to bring attention back to the case. If only that had gotten the them off his back.

Derek cornered him in the kitchenette, smirking as he sauntered over. "What was that in there? Cat got your tongue?"

On another day, he would have launched into a story of how the phrase originated from the cat o' nine tails, and so saying it meant that you had been flogged into submission, or from the Middle Ages where it was believed that witches would allegedly steal tongues and it transferred onto the black cats that accompanied them as familiars, or that ancient Egyptians who worshipped cats would punish liars and blasphemers by feeding their tongues to cats. Instead, all he said was, "Just didn't feel like it," and continued stirring his coffee.

Derek immediately noticed the lack of a long-winded, completely off-topic, but fascinating rant. And that caught his attention. It was even more suspicious when he couldn’t even look him in the eye, instead keeping his gaze firmly on the coffee maker.

“What aren’t you telling me?” Derek pressed, moving so that he was standing just behind Reid. Derek knew from experience that, if you wanted to prevent him from making a run for it, you had to block his path before he thought to try and escape.

"This kind of behaviour is exactly what gets you in trouble with HR," Spencer pointed out, then winced, his tongue flaring with pain.

Derek’s eyes narrowed as he observed Reid’s face, noting the subtle wince. Something was definitely up. “What’s wrong with your mouth?” he asked bluntly, his eyes now drifting over his face as if they would somehow be able to glean some sort of answer from his expression.

"Nothing," he replied, his voice hitting a higher pitch, a flush colouring his cheeks.

He’s lying. “Bullshit,” Derek said bluntly, his arms folded. “Every time you open your mouth, you wince. So just tell me. What happened?”

"I just burnt my tongue, that's all," he mumbled, hoping Derek would leave it.

Derek’s eyebrows lifted in disbelief. It seemed like a flimsy explanation, and he wasn’t going to let this go. Spencer was hiding something. “You burnt your tongue? How?”

"O-On coffee, I forgot it was hot," he said. God, he should be better at lying than this.

Derek’s frown deepened at his answer. “And you’re sure that’s it? No other reason why your tongue would hurt when you talk?”

"What other reason would there be?" Spencer asked, sipping stale coffee.

Now they were getting somewhere. Derek couldn’t help but notice that his cheeks had turned a light shade of pink. “That’s what I’m asking you, pretty boy,” Derek said, folding his arms across his chest.

"What's it matter to you anyway?" Spencer asked, trying to make his escape.

Derek moved to block his path once again, his eyes watching his friend closely. Something wasn’t right here. “It matters because you’re hurt,” Derek pointed out. “So, just be honest and tell me the truth. What really happened to your tongue?”

Spencer groaned. "I... cut it this morning..." he said, halting and hesitating.

Derek’s eyes narrowed once again at his words, instantly sceptical of his answer. “You cut your tongue?” he repeated, his tone clearly indicating that he didn’t believe him. “And how exactly did you do that?”

"Morgan," he pleaded, protesting.

Derek’s eyes remained locked, searching Spencer’s face for any hint of dishonesty or a lie. “I want the truth, Reid. How did you cut your tongue?”

Spencer's entire neck had become flushed now. "On a piercing," he muttered quietly.

Ah. Derek’s eyes grew a fraction wider, his arms now dropping to his sides as everything clicked into place. That’s why he’d been trying to avoid talking this whole time. “A piercing…” he repeated, a smirk beginning to edge onto his face. “Specifically, whose piercing?”

"Does it matter?" Spencer asked, trying to escape him again and Derek blocked him too easily.

Derek’s smirk widened as he watched Reid begin to squirm under his gaze, and it was clear that he had hit the target.

“Yeah, it does. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be so reluctant to tell me, pretty boy.” A thought suddenly occurred to him, and Derek’s smirk curled into a grin as he studied Spencer for a long, calculated moment. “Wait a goddamn minute. Is this Cupcake's doing?”

"No!" he squeaked.

Derek’s grin widened at his reaction, which immediately told him that he was correct. Bingo. “Oh god, it is…” he said, his tone a mixture of delight and disbelief. “It was her piercing, wasn’t it?”

"What! I never said that!" Spencer cried and his obvious fluster told Derek all he needed to know - he’d hit the mark.

“You didn’t have to say it. You just confirmed it,” Derek drawled. “You can’t hide anything from me, pretty boy. And that means you were with her this morning -” He leaned in, his grin widening a fraction more. “- weren’t you?”

"I- You can't prove anything!"

“Oh, this is priceless…” Derek was clearly enjoying this, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he watched Spencer begin to panic.  “So, let me get this right: you were with your girlfriend this morning - on your day off - and, somewhere along the line, you cut your tongue on her earrings.”

"You don't know it's her," Spencer tried to bluff.

“Dude, you’re blushing like a schoolboy,” Derek pointed. “And you’re being so damn defensive. Put two and two together, genius. I’m not judging, Reid, just wondering - how exactly did you slice your tongue on her earring, anyway?”

"How do you think?" Spencer muttered.

Derek smirked, his eyebrows lifting. “You’re telling me that you were making out with your new girlfriend, and you accidentally cut your tongue on her piercings?”

"I'm not telling you anything!"

Derek’s smirk just grew wider, as he could practically see the thoughts swirling through Spencer’s mind. He absolutely loved getting to him like this. “You could have just told me that it was from making out with your girlfriend, pretty boy. I’m not gonna make fun of you for that. Although, I’m impressed that you somehow managed to cut your tongue in the process…”

Spencer groaned, lowering his head in shame.

Derek chuckled in delight, thoroughly enjoying watching Spencer getting all worked up.

“Hey, don’t worry about it, man,” he said, a wide grin on his face. “As long as it was a good time, a few marks here and there are worth it.”

"Can I go now?" Spencer asked, mortified.

“Yeah yeah, alright,” Derek said, still chuckling to himself as he backed off, allowing Spencer to leave. “Have fun with your girlfriend,” he teased, his tone laced with playful innuendo, watching Spencer scurry off back to his desk.

[menagerofmischief]

Nugget Update (MV1)

sumary: y/n's always giddy after getting a nugget update, sure she loves her best boy, but it also has something to do with the cat sitter sending the updates

driver!reader x cat sitter!max verstappen -> habs incoming... series masterlist

cw: not fia approved words, a bit of lance hate (I don't actually hate him), mutual pinning, the grid teasing the reader, lot of appearances from the reader's cat, kissing, kinda mean!reader (to the grid)

wc: 4.1k

a/n: this is my first time writing in 2nd person so bear with me. also, I low key hate this and it may be shit. not proof read!

“Well aren’t you a ball of sunshine?” A voice called out, disturbing the peace - or the closest thing to peace you could have near a Formula 1 track.

Your gaze snapped up, eyes narrowing as you took in the man standing on the entry of the RedBull garage. “Hello, Charles,” you replied, a teasing bite obviously heard in your voice as you crossed your arms over your chest. “I know you wanted to experience what a successful garage looks like but I thought Ferrari had a better hold on you.”

Charles laughs, his eyes crinkling as his lips stretch into a smile. Teasing Charles was always a fun time but that’s all it was, just a bit of fun. It never stretched into something meaner, just two people showing affection by teasing each other.

Charles had been your very first real friend on the grid. The first to offer his hand with a smile and genuinely mean it. The first to congratulate you on a win after getting out of the car or the first to say that the next race would be better. Really, he was your best friend, but you would never tell him that or it would go to his head.

“Funny, very funny.” He said, his accent thick. His eyes slid around the motor home until finally meeting your own. “Lot of drivers are going out for drinks, came by to invite you.”

“I don’t Charles,” you started to say, going through your mental list of excuses, searching for the best one to use to avoid this social interaction.

“Oh come on!” He whined, rolling his eyes. He gave you a look that let you know you could stop thinking about an excuse because he wasn’t going to be buying it. “We won’t stay that long and it’s night race tomorrow so you don’t need to wake up at the crack of dawn.”

You pressed your lips together, the lip gloss previously applied making them slide against each other easily. 

Charles kissed his teeth, nodding his head along. Fine, he’ll play the game. “Some of the WAG’s are coming as well.”

“Are you really trying to lure me out by promising female company?”

“Is it working?”

“Eh,” you shrugged your shoulders. “Will you pay my tab?”

Charles scoffed. “Pay your tab?” He asked, sounding as if you had asked him for his firstborn. “You’re filthy rich! You have a bigger salary than me!”

“Yeah, they do pay world champions a bit extra, comes with the title.” You replied, grinning at him, a wide teasing grin, your eyes twinkling. 

“Fine whatever, I’ll pay your tab.” He said, raising his hands in surrender. “Now go take that suit off and shower, you look disgusting.”

“You look like a trash can threw you up!”

“It threw me up because it saw you!” Charles shouted back in response, his back already turned to you as he walked away, back to the Ferrari garage. 

And that’s how you ended up in the bar, an hour later. Squished in the not too comfortable and definitely not meant to sit so many people, booth. With George’s girlfriend Carmen on your left, and Pierre’s girlfriend Kika on your right, and deep in conversation with both of them. 

You feel your phone vibrate under your hand on the table, and the screen lights up, showing off your wallpaper, a picture of your beloved cat Nugget.

You tune off from the conversation the moment the message arrives, grabbing your phone and pulling it in towards you. Your face lights up, lips stretching into a smile as your eyes focus on the sender ID. Maxie.

Or rather Max. The very cute guy who was your cat sitter whenever you were out and about in the world, chasing the racing track. 

With a quick move of your fingers, you swipe up, opening your phone and going into the message app. Fingers quickly tapping along the screen of your phone as you type out your reply.

With a smile you closed the messages app, pressing your fingers against the button on the side of your phone, watching the screen go black before setting it face down onto the table. As you looked back up, Lando’s amused yet teasing expression caught your eye.

You leaned forward against the table, pressing your hands to the wooden surface as you attempted to get a bit closer to the driver on the other side of the table. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Oh nothing,” he said with a laugh. “Just wondering who you’re texting, that’s all.” He intertwined his fingers, elbows pressed against the table and leaned forward as well. “You were all grumpy cat but then you get a message and suddenly you’re all smiles.”

“Grumpy cat?” You scoff, rolling your eyes at the McLaren driver. “I’m not a grumpy cat. And for the record, that was Nugget’s babysitter and he was sending me a picture of Nugget.”

Lando laughs, there’s a twinkle in his eyes that tells you he wants to say more but he holds himself back. “Can I see? I haven’t seen the orange gremlin in so long.”

“That’s very mean,” you say, opening your phone to show him the picture, that Max had sent you. “Nugget would never say that about you.”

“That’s because Nugget can’t speak.” He looks at the screen and his lips twist upward in a smirk. “Who’s Maxie?”

You breathe out through your nose, teeth digging into your bottom lip. When you speak your voice is sharp, it leaves no room for questioning things or an invite to ask more questions. “The cat sitter.”

“I’m sure that’s all he is.” Lando laughs when you show him your middle finger before settling back into your seat and returning to the previously abandoned conversation with the two WAG’s.

The race went pretty smoothly, as always. Starting from pole, keeping the lead the whole race and with a 20s gap to car in P2. Everything after that was pretty much a blur, the interviews, partying through the night with the grid and boarding the jet early in the morning.

The sun already started setting by the time you made it to Monaco. With a sigh you rummaged through your bag, blindly feeling around the stuff inside before your fingers finally wrapped around the keys.

Opening the apartment door you walked inside, gently laying down your suitcase as your eyes settled on the scene in your living room. Right there, laying on your couch, in deep sleep, and cuddling your cat is Max Verstappen. 

His hair had fallen over his eyes and the position he’s in looks rather uncomfortable, you’re sure his body will be aching when he wakes up. His chest was raising and falling with each breath he took, little sighs slipping past his lips. Nugget was cuddled up to him, curled in a ball.

You looked at him for a few moments before starting to move around as quietly as possible, not wanting to wake him up. 

Max had been cat sitting for you for a while now. Half of last season and now half of this one so almost a year. He was a sweet, kinda shy, mostly nerdy guy you ran into in a coffee shop and spilled his coffee. You offered to buy him a new one and he joined you for the coffee and you got to talking when he said he was looking for a job so you offered him to become your pet sitter.

At that point you really did need someone to look after your cat while you were gone, since you had broken up with your ex who usually took care of Nugget while you were away. And you couldn’t leave Nugget with your parents since your father was allergic to cats.

Now, your best friend who had been working in a different country had returned to Monaco and said she’d be more than happy to look after Nugget - but you wanted to keep Max around. 

Already having grown used to coming home after a race weekend to find him there, just existing in your space.

Nugget’s whiskers twitch, his eyes opening and he pulls himself away from Max, stretches out and then trots over to you, rubbing his head against your leg affectionately while purring. He let out a happy, albeit a bit too loud, meow when you picked him up and on the other side of the room Max began stirring from his sleep.

He opened his eyes, a bit confused, and rubbed his knuckles against his eyes to wake up, blinking a few times as his eyes adjusted to the light filling up the room. 

“You’re back,” he says, his voice is gentle, still sleepy and a bit quiet. His eyes meet yours and he offers you a sweet smile that has you immediately smiling back at him. “Didn’t mean to fall asleep, sorry about that.”

“Oh no, it’s no problem,” you reply, running your hand over Nugget’s fur as the cat lay happily in your arms. “You can use the guest bedroom if you’re tired, you know. The couch may be expensive but that doesn’t mean it’s comfortable for sleep.”

“I didn’t want to overstep,” Max said, pulling himself up into a sitting position. You approached the couch and sat down, the cat nestling in your lap and purring in content. Max smiled, reaching out his hand and petting Nugget.

“Nonsense Max, you’re not overstepping.” You cut him off, leaving no room for argument. You always told him to feel at ease in your apartment, that he was welcome to any food in the fridge and free to use the guest room as he pleased but even after all this time there was still a slight air of awkwardness backed up by the fear of going a bit too far.

Max’s eyes settled on you, your own focused on your cat so you didn’t notice him looking. He watched the way you cooed at Nugget, asking if he was a good boy while you were away and petting him gently, and his lips stretched into a small, careful smile.

He spoke before thinking. The words left his mouth before he even finished the thought inside of his head. “I watched the race,” he said, and your eyes instantly snapped up to meet his. He swallowed, already too deep to back down. “It - “ he licked his lips, trying to decide his next words, feeling like his tongue had tied itself up in a knot. “You were spectacular. It was lovely … simply lovely.”

You let out a breath, the corners of your mouth twisting upwards and you gave him a thankful look. Max swore he could feel his heart beating in his throat, and felt his cheeks heat up. “Thank you,” you said, your voice gentle, holding a comforting tone. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. And it’s nice - knowing you watched.”

“It is?”

You bit your lip, teeth scraping against you bottom lip as you looked at him, your brain running faster than the Sauber (like it’s hard) as you tried to come up with a response. “It’s kind of comforting,” you finally said, after what felt like a small forever.

You hummed, looking down at your nails. “I was thinking about bringing Nugget with me to the next race. It’s been a while since he was in the paddock.”

“Oh,” Max said, an edge of confusion noticeable in the tone of his voice. “Does that mean that you don’t need me coming over next week?”

“Actually, I was hoping you would come with.” You say, before you can talk yourself out of making the proposition.

Max tilts his head to the side, kind of like a confused cat and you try your best not to giggle at the mental image. “I’m not sure I’m following.”

“If you wanted to attend the Grand Prix,” you tell him, running the edge of one of your nails along your skin. “Cuz’ I’m still gonna need someone to look after Nugget, and you do that in general so this would just be an added bonus of traveling.”

Max is silent for a few moments and you think he’ll decline. You wouldn't fully blame him if he did, you know what the pressure of the paddock can be like. You’re about to open your mouth, tell him that ‘never mind, it was a stupid idea anyway’ and put him out of the trouble of finding a polite way to decline when he finally speaks. 

“I suppose, if you want me to then yeah, I’ll come along to watch Nugget.” He says, trying to ignore the nervous feeling building up in his chest when you smile at him, a wide happy smile that makes him instantly smile back.

“Great!” You said, the excitement evident in your voice. “Someone from the team will contact you in a while to arrange the tickets and leave the rest to me.” Max nods, he doesn’t trust himself to speak, not with the way his throat is closing up and it makes him feel like he can’t breathe.

“Look at you all giggly,” Charles teased, gently pushing your shoulder with his hand. He wiggled his eyebrows, a laugh slipping past his lips as you glared at him.

“Charles, why don’t you turn around and flash your pretty face to the crowd.” You said, rolling your eyes. You looked at the stadium full of people who were shouting out for their favorite drivers, waving banners and cheering happily. You smiled towards the stadium and lifted your hand up, waving your fingers to the public. “Give them a wave.”

“See, I always knew you thought I was pretty,” Charles replied, waving at the public. The two of you and the rest of the grid were in a wagon, going around the track for the drivers parade, so essentially you were stuck with him for at least five more minutes. “Now, do tell who’s got you smiling like that.”

“Is it Maxie?” Lando asked, the teasing tone evident in his voice. He pushed himself closer to you and Charles, inserting himself into the conversation. 

“Didn’t your mom teach you not to eavesdrop?” 

“No, no!” Charles said, shaking his head as he waved his hand dismissively as you, his full attention now focused on Lando. “Who’s Maxie?”

Lando smiled at him, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “The cat sitter,” he said in a sing-song kind of voice. 

“The one you brought to your garage?” The Ferrari driver asked, his attention back on you. “The pretty one.”

“Hold up!” Lando almost shouted, raising his hands. “You brought him with you to the Grand Prix?!”

“I didn’t … well I did bring him.” You said with a sigh, there was no escaping this now. “But it’s not like that. He’s here to watch Nugget.”

“And for you to watch him - because boy that is one good arm candy.”

“Charles, your homosexual is showing,” you warned.

“But you’re not denying it,” Charles noted, giving you a smirk.

You rolled your eyes at him but finally gave in. “Yes, I’m not denying it.”

You stepped back into the motor home, your eyes immediately searching for Max and finally you found him talking to your lead engineer. As you approached the two you could start to hear their conversation and quickly realized they were talking about how the car worked and what went on behind the scenes at a Grand Prix. You found it cute that Max was interested in that.

His eyes met yours and his face lit up, the corners of his mouth twisting upwards into a smile. “You’re back!” He said, “After terrorizing everyone around and getting pets, Nugget decided to settle down for a nap. He’s in your driver's room.”

Max gave you a wink after saying that and you had to hold in a giggle. You excused yourself to go to your driver’s room, with Max following behind you. The first thing you noticed when you went inside was Nugget, curled up on the massage bed and sleeping without a care.

The next thing that grabbed your attention was a dozen pastries lined up on a small table next to the couch. They were all individually wrapped in tissues.

“Max,” you said, picking up one of the pastries and unwrapping it. “I really did mean only one pastry, you know?” You bit into the chocolate filled pastry, moaning at the taste of a treat you weren’t usually allowed to have when it was race week. “My trainer will strangle me if he sees.”

“I swear, no one saw anything.” Max said, shuffling over to the couch and sitting down. “I was sneakier than Nugget when he’s stealing my food.”

“Oh, now that’s a very serious claim.” You told him with a laugh, his own laugh echoing back. You picked up one of the wrapped pastries and offered it to him. “Take one, or five. There’s no way I’m eating it all.”

He takes the pastry you’re offering him, his fingers brushing against your own as he takes it from your hand, sending sparks of electricity down your spine. After a second of hesitation you sit down next to him, the two of you eating the treats in comfortable silence.

His thigh nudges against yours and you turn to face him, finding that he’s already looking at you. He smiles and you don’t hesitate to smile back.

The practices go great, P2 in FP1, P1 in FP2 and P1 in FP3. 

The qualifying is where a slight setback shows up, with quali being ended early due to a crash and a red flag, putting you in P10 for the start of the race tomorrow.  

Once the car had rolled back into the pits you wasted no time getting out, putting the steering wheel back into place before storming into your driver’s room. 

You pulled your helmet off, fingers curling into the bottom of your balaclava as you pulled it off, throwing it next to your helmet before bringing your hands up to smooth down your hair. 

“I’m not in the fucking mood, Pepe.” You said without turning around, assuming it was your race engineer coming to talk about the outcome of qualifying. “Fucking Lance and his fucking money made seat - if that little frog screws up another quali, I’ll be the one crashing him out.”

“I’m not Pepe,” the other person in the room says and you instantly turn around, your eyes wide as they meet Max’s blue ones. “And I’m certainly glad I’m not Lance.”

You looked him up and down, eyes trailing over his figure. You took notice of Nugged, cuddled up in his arms and looked at you curiously, and reached your hand out to pet the cat, a long breath slipping past your lips. 

“Sorry,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “I didn’t really mean for you to hear that.”

Max barely heard what you were saying. Too distracted by the sight of you for his brain to properly register your words. Your skin was slightly glistening with sweat, an imprint from where your helmet and balaclava had dug into your skin still visible on your flushed cheeks. Your messy hair, and your chest raising and falling with each breath you took as you were still working on catching up your breath.

Max blinked, finally snapping out of his thoughts and focusing his attention back to what you were saying. “They should have let you finish the lap.” 

“I agree but sadly that’s not how it works.”

Max nodded along, not really knowing what to say to that so he switched to the next topic. “I ran into your friend. He invited you, and me, out for drinks. I think it would be nice to go, you seem like you need a drink.”

“Yeah, I definitely do.” You replied, taking Nugget from his arms and into your own, stroking down the cat’s body. “Which friend?”

“Uh,” Max started, thinking of a way to describe the guy since he couldn’t remember his name. “Wears red, pretty, sounds French.”

You laughed, smiling at him. “That’s Charles. I hope you didn’t tell him he sounds French, he gets offended by that.”

“Then it’s great I kept it to myself.”

You laughed in reply, putting Nugget down to the floor, the cat immediately moving to a cozy corner and curling up into a ball on the floor, shutting his eyes. “The hotel is right next to the track, you can take Nugget back while I shower and then we can go - if you want to.”

“Sounds like a deal,” Max replied with a smile.

You showered and put on a clean set of clothes just in time to meet Max after he finished dropping Nugget back to the hotel, leaving him with toys, food and water. The two of you made your way to the bar to join the rest of the grid for a night out. 

Some of the drivers were playing pool while their girlfriends were engrossed in a conversation so that left you and Max sitting together, sharing drinks and talking.

“I just …” you started, cracking your fingers. “I don’t know, this quali really messed up my mood and I was riding on such a high after the practices going well. It all feels shit now.”

“Maybe you just need more motivation for the race.” Max offered, drinking the rest of the liquor from his glass in one go. 

“You have something in mind, Maxie?” You asked, the nickname slipping past your lips without a thought now that you’ve had a few drinks. 

“How about a kiss if you get on the podium?” He said, his voice suggestive. Normally he never would have dared to say something like that but the alcohol courage really worked wonders. 

Your eyes widened, clearly not expecting him to be so bold or to suggest that. He took your reaction as a bad sign, immediately straightening up as a wave of dread quickly sobered him up.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped out, the expression on his face shifting into a panicked one. “That was stupid. It was thoughtless. It was -”

“A great motivation,” you cut him off, putting a finger up against his lips to silence him. “It was a great motivation.”

His cheeks burned as his eyes met yours. He looked so vulnerable, his bright eyes impossibly wide. “Yeah?”

“Yeah!”

“One more corner to go but you’re in the clear,” Pepe’s voice echoed over the radio. You blinked, your eyes focused on the track before you, the checkered flag already visible along with your team gathering in the front. “That’s P1, Y/n. Phenomenal drive today, you deserved it!”

“Thank you,” you said, your voice breathless as you moved your hands, going through the last corner and speeding towards the finish line. “Thank you, Pepe.” You repeated, swallowing your spit. “It was lovely, simply lovely.”

You put the car into P1, getting out and posing for a picture on top of your car. You could hear the shouts, the cheers, the celebration. You took off your helmet, ripping off your balaclava and putting them both into the car before turning around to face the team, eyes searching for a particular face. 

Finally, you spotted Max. Standing besides your engineer, a proud expression on his face as he looked at you with a wide smile. You didn’t hesitate, feet moving before you could think and then you were in front of him, grabbing his shirt and pulling him down, smashing your lips into his.

The kiss was desperate, both of having waited long enough for it. He wrapped his arms around you, the best he could with the fence between you, kissing you back with need. 

You finally pulled away when you felt your lungs burning from the lack of oxygen, learning your forehead against his. Nothing else mattered, not the public, not the team, not the celebration. Only him, finally yours.

“Simply lovely, right?” You asked, your voice breathless.

“Simply lovely!” Max repeated back to you, before kissing you once again. And he really did mean it - everything was simply lovely.

tag list: @formula1-motogpfan @misty-inferno @thelemonque3n @marvel-hotchner @strangemaximoff @folkloresreputation @pippyth3hippy @adharacambridge @theseerbetweenus @sebastianstansblog @tellybearryyyy @six-call @grussellsprout @oikarma @justcharlotte @annimausi

i hope i tagged everyone who said they wanted to be on the tag list. hope you enjoyed this one and keep an eye out for the poll about the next part of the series <3

[mggslover]

i love your firsts idea and i wanted to know if you could write something with experienced reader/unexperienced spencer where he is like an ass guy cause i always see him being a boobs guy in fics so id like to read something like this, maybe abt how he gets worked up looking at readers ass or some other scenario, totally up to you! love your fics 🩵

spencer seeing you in leggings genre: smut 18+ content warnings: perv!spence having dirty thoughts, dialogue from s9e18 but no spoilers word count: 1,3k a/n: i love your prompt!! i wasn't sure if you wanted reader and spencer to actually do something, so i hope i've found a good balance

“8.49,” Penelope groaned, wiping her forehead after running her third lap in a row. “Good God, that’s not even close.”

Spencer’s breath came in sharp bursts, his hands gripping his knees as he leaned forward. “You think they’ll really terminate us if we can’t run fast enough?” 

“Probably something worse,” she sighed with a shake of her head. “They’ll probably make us take another fit test.” 

Spencer grimaced at the thought. “I’d rather be terminated.” 

Penelope snorted. “I just hope the PT instructors aren’t jerks. Those jock guys are always jerks.”

“Yeah, total jerks,” he agreed with a nod, but then his attention drifted away as he caught sight of two figures in the distance. “That’s probably them right now.” 

Penelope squinted, following his line in sight. “Oh, look,” Penelope hissed, whipping her head back to Spencer. “He’s totally walking like a jerk. And ugh, look at her! That figure… that is just unfair.”

Spencer blinked rapidly as he could recognize your confident, hypnotic stride from miles away. “Wait a minute.” 

“Oh my god, it’s them.” Penelope gasped, confirming Spencer’s suspicion as you and Derek made your way over to them.

“Why are you two here?” Penelope asked, trying to piece together what was going on. 

“It looks like we’re your new PT instructors,” Derek responded, flashing an amused grin. 

The second you came into view, Penelope’s complaints faded into the background, muffled to his ears. Spencer always thought you looked pretty. He admired how professional you looked, even in the field, but today was the first time he saw you outside the office. The training jacket you wore ended just above your hips, the fabric pulling snugly against your torso. His eyes traced the curve of your waist until they landed on your hips. The lavender color of your skin-tight leggings clung softly to your thighs, and Spencer had to fight back a moan at the sight. Penelope was right. Your figure was, indeed, unfair.

"Kid, where's your mind at?"

Spencer's head snapped up at Derek’s question, clearing his throat as he scrambled for an excuse. He could still feel the heat in his cheeks from the way he’d been staring at you.

Derek waved him off with an exasperated shake of his head. "Alright, from now on, I want you two to focus," he commanded in a no-nonsense tone, pointing at Spencer and Penelope.

“Shall we start with stair climbing?” Your voice rang out and Derek nodded in agreement. 

“Let’s do that. Follow us,” Derek said, gesturing toward the stone stairs in the distance. 

You turned to follow Morgan, and the movement knocked the breath right out of Spencer’s lungs. He choked on his inhale, his gaze drawn to the way the fabric of your leggings clung to the plumpness of your cheeks. The tight material left little to the imagination, every contour visible, accentuating the soft swell of your ass with every step. Spencer’s heart hammered in his chest, racing faster than it had during those grueling laps around the field. 

Spencer’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, his jaw tightening as he fought the heat beginning to pool low in his stomach. He couldn’t help the way his body was reacting to you, and the effort to control it only made things worse.

The exercise was simple—walking up the first few steps of the stairs and back down again. You called it a warm-up, unaware that every step you took made it harder for Spencer to keep his focus. Just the sight of you moving, the sway of your hips as the leggings stretched over your thighs, was enough to drive him crazy. 

"This is torture," he muttered under his breath.

"I know, right? I can’t believe they’re making us do this." Penelope replied, completely oblivious to the source of his frustration. 

———

Spencer felt a wave of relief wash over him as he finally completed the exercise, his legs burning but grateful it was over.

"Good job, Spence," you said, flashing him a bright smile as you gave his chest a quick pat. "And cute outfit," you added with a teasing tone, a compliment that made his heart skip.

"Oh, I—uh, thanks," he stammered, patting his red hoodie as if to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

"We're doing squats next. Derek's with Penelope. Want me to help you with your form?" 

"Sure," he squeaked, his voice betraying his nerves.

You positioned yourself in front of him, glancing over your shoulder to make sure he was paying attention. And, obviously, he was—his gaze fixed on you almost too intently.

"Okay, the most important thing is to keep your back straight," you instructed, your voice calm and focused as you lowered your hips, sliding down until your thighs were parallel to the ground.

Spencer stood right behind you, so close that he could feel the heat radiating off your body. His shorts were growing uncomfortably tight from the proximity. He couldn’t help but imagine what it would feel like to pull you in by your waist, holding you flush against him.

"See how I'm doing it?" You asked innocently.

"Mhm. Looks good," he breathed out, his eyes lingering on you as he licked his lips.

He could picture it vividly—how perfectly his length would fit between your cheeks. How he would make you repeat that same motion against him until his dick would stand tall in response, throbbing with need. He imagined how easy it would be to slide your leggings down to your knees, leaving you exposed. Were you even wearing anything underneath?

The thought sent a surge of heat through him. He wondered if your closeness was affecting you in the same way. Wondered if he would find you wet, your pussy glistening with anticipation. Would you like him to softly trace your puffy lips with his finger? Or would you want him to waste no time, grabbing you by your thighs as he would enter you? 

He asked himself if you were the type to let him take control, or if you’d bend over, pushing your own hips back against his, matching the deep rhythm of his thrusts. The thought of filling you, of hearing your gasps mix his moans, was clouding his mind. 

Spencer hadn’t realized just how much his thoughts had turned him on, until your voice broke through his haze. 

“Okay, your turn.”

He looked down, seeing how his dick had twitched up to the point where it was almost peeking out of his boxers. Shit. He made quick work of his hands, adjusting himself before you turned around.

“I—I’m so sorry. I need to go,” Spencer stammered, the words tumbling out in a rush before he turned and fled, leaving you without an explanation.

———

“Oh, come on man!” Derek groaned in disappointment as he spotted Spencer slumped on the grass at the far side of the field.

“I’m sorry,” Spencer mumbled.

“Just one more round. You’ve got this,” Derek encouraged.

“I can’t.”

“You’re capable of more than you think.”

“Derek, I swear… I literally can’t get up.”

Derek raised an eyebrow, and with a defeated sigh, Spencer pointed awkwardly toward his shorts.

“Oh shit,” Derek responded as the realization dawned upon him. 

“Is it because of…?” He pointed to the direction where you were standing and Spencer just nodded.

“Damn,” Derek muttered. “Well, okay, just take a break. Have some water. Relax those muscles.” He winced, immediately regretting his choice of words. 

Spencer nervously looked up at him. “Will you tell her?

Derek shook his head. “Nah. As long as you don’t tell Penelope this whole fit test thing is just a formality and that I could’ve got the whole thing waived.”

[xazse]

So about the Shouki no Kami x reader, while we're fighting Scaramouche's boss we get injured and some pieces of our clothes are already ruined, causing Scaramouche to feel umm. Yk 🫣

HUMILIATION

Synopsis: Your ruined clothing definitely catches Scaramouches attention.

Notes: Hi I enjoyed writing this, I must tell you that it’s completely consensual and reader was free to leave whenever she pleased but chose to indulge in scaras antics! + I do have other requests but they are just asking for a part 2 of something, I’d love to work on it but id rather work on some new stuff.

Pairings: Scaramouche x fem!reader

Warnings: Pussy eating + crying + manhandling + mean!Scara + dom!scara + overstimulation + smut + not proofread + creampie + begging

“Die insolent woman, you’ve been a pain in my side for the longest.”

Scaramouche points Shouki no Kami’s hand at you, he can’t choose which way he wants to kill you, with all the elements in his very hands it’s hard. He wants to make you suffer for as long as possible: wants your screams to fill the room as you beg for mercy, maybe you’ll even cry he’d enjoy that the most.

He bares you one more final look your face dirty and ragged, coughing up your own blood, his eyesight falls a little lower and he pauses. Your shirt was ripped with large tear; exposing your bra, it’s white and basic but nonetheless he can see the fat of your boob spilling out: clearly the bra doesn’t fit you as well as you think it does. Your shorts are a tattered mess as well.

He halts the beam to stare and maybe even admire you a little, He won’t lie and say he hasn’t felt a little bit of attraction at just how desperate you are to kill him, every battle you’ve had with him ends with him fleeing after taking a damaging hit or he’s managed to knock you unconscious, why he hadn’t killed you those times is because he’d wanted you to live with the humiliation, but now that he’s in the final steps of his plan he no longer sees the need to toy with you.

Looking at you longer starts to stir some of those lewd feelings he knows he shouldn’t have for you, it’s merely sexual nothing romantic, he deems you aren’t on his level for him to see you that way, doesn’t matter you’ll be dead in a few.

But… Ever since becoming sentient and reaching the age of maturity, Scara hasn’t laid with any women. As a way of relief when he was alone he’d find himself grabbing and groping at his cock, such a thing had an impact on his body and mind it aggravated him that men had to go through that, it did feel pretty good though when he reached his peak.

He supposes in this moment that you’d be the perfect specimen for him to have sex with, you should be honored you’ll be the first woman to take what humans call his virginity.

You attempt to grab your pole arm but find it getting knocked all the way across the room with just a flick of the giant robots finger. You feel completely defenseless, at least the comfort of knowing you went down with a fight will provide some relief, you close your eyes as you await your death.

Footsteps can be heard behind you, the bastard wants to kill you with his own hands? His steps are slow and steady as he approaches you, when he finally does he kicks you over you groan in pain at just the force of the kick, you’re now on your stomach when he sits down and puts his entire weight on your back.

“I’d kill you right now but I have other uses for you”

“Just get it over with” you seethe through clenched teeth

“And miss the chance to further humiliate you? I don’t think so. I could kill you right now or I could fuck you then let you leave orrrr you can leave and run back to your family with your tail inbetween your legs. Your choice either way you’ll die sooner or later it doesn’t matter to me”

Your lip quirks upwards and you resist the urge to burst out laughing

“Not so popular with the women? Knew you were a hopeless virgin,” you giggle a little before continuing “is that why youre so hell bent on destruction? You just needed some pussy?”

Scaramouche’s expression darkens but you can’t see that, he won’t allow you to.

“You’ve got a mouth on you, always have.” “I think that’s why breaking you down has been so fun”

You shrug “I’ll indulge you Scaramouche” you huff out, “I don’t need to guide you through it right?” You tease.

“No need, I’ll have you crying on my cock begging for more.” He tears off the remainings of your shirt, your shorts are next as he descards the fabrics somewhere else, you aren’t getting those back you sigh loudly.

He places his hand under your stomach in a way you’re arching: ass up and face smooshed into the cold hard floor. You don’t process it as quickly as you should but next thing you know you can feel the cool open breeze on your parts, bastard even ruined your underwear. He admires you once again, staring at your cute cunt as it’s begging to be filled and fucked, he’ll give you just that.

First he decides that he wants to taste you, wants to figure out why people enjoy pussy as much as they do.

He bends down a little, having him eye level with your cunt makes you feel a little embarrassed and your body a little hot, you’ve never been eaten out before if he does- you lurch forward when his tongue licks a stripe up. He thinks he didn’t really get a good taste so he licks another, and another until he’s full on licking and sucking directly on your hole.

“Ohh..mnh-“ you use your hand to close your mouth, you don’t want to give him the satisfaction. But fuck does it feel so good, he hasn’t even found your clit yet and you don’t think you’ll be able to hold back anything.

He starts getting messy with his tongue work, it was messy before but now it feels dirty. You know you’re becoming wetter by the second and he isn’t wasting even a second to lick up the essence that leaks out. This position isn’t doing it for him anymore so he flips you onto your back, immediately he dives right back into sucking, when he accidentally brushes over your clit and sees the sweet whine that slips past he does it again to make sure he heard you right, tracing over the bud you once again make the noise but even sweeter.

“Scara-Ah..ngh”

His arms wrap around your thighs, he doesn’t even seem the least bit bothered that you’re caging his head in, he’s completely in tune with sucking on your wet sloppy clit. All you can do is take it and cry small whimpers of his names, you don’t know whether you want him to stop the pleasure or continue it.

His shorts begin to constrict as he starts to grow hard, they feel tight around him and he feels the need to loosen them up, his hand dips below his waist and into them, his fingers grope his cock roughly, the damn thing definitely has a mind of its own as established earlier. It’s already leaking precum into his hands.

He stands up on his knees, you obediently don’t close your legs, leaving them wide open, a little bit of licking has your eyes clouded and lusty, he thinks you definitely now deserve to feel the stretch of his cock.

He tugs his waistband just below his heavy balls, you stare openly too, he’s fucking big, you had never expected that from his small stature. He knows he is too with the condescending smirk on his face, clearly proud of what he has. It’s more thick than it is long, girth was not lost on him, you advert your gaze fully.

“What are you doing? Look at me clearly woman, none of that shy stuff now.” He leans in and pulls your bra down, useful for later he supposes.

He stokes himself a few times, making sure your eyes are trained on every stroke and every dribble of pre that cascades down his length. He taps his cock against your clit eliciting a sharp rise in your chest. His cock is placed against your wet hole and pushes in, he only gets a little past the tip before you’re whiny voice picks up and telling him to stop for a moment, he does obey to let you breathe.

As he sits and waits he can feel just how hot you are, he bets putting it even deeper will have him seeing stars.

He starts pushing in again, repeating the words relax as you tense up every so often, he isn’t going to fucking kill you. Your tight cunt starts to slowly adjust and pull him in, it gets warmer and warmer the deeper he goes.

“You’ve been- mhn..- fucked? How come you’re so damn tight?” It’s clearly starting to affect him, serves the dick right.

It’s not long before he’s got his full hard cock deep inside you, his chest is connected to yours as he lifts up his hips to slam right back down into you.

“So… ooh my god” his hips can’t stop fucking into you, your gummy walls just adds so much more stimulation, it’s filthy and gross the loud sounds of his balls slapping against your ass or your equally lewd moans of his name drive everything so much higher. His chest is rubbing against your nipples when he goes up and down, they feel raw and extra sensitive adding ontop of the pleasure.

He’s using you like a damn toy to reach his peak, it feels different than when he would use his hands, his balls feel heavier and he feels the need to empty them, empty them right inside your sopping cunt.

You take your fingers and begin rubbing wildly at your clit.

He’s been hitting a certain spot inside of you, but when he inches his hips a way, he hits it directly.

“Pleas- please again-“ “deeper-deeper Scara.”

It’s embarrassing how you’re full on crying it feels so good, too good, you can’t help but cry from the amount of pleasure you’re feeling, no man you’ve ever come across has had his size nor the way he keeps hitting that spot.

He gives you one more stroke and you whine his name the loudest since he had you bent over on all fours. Your pussy gushes and cums around his cock, that nasty white ring shines so much when he looks at where you’re connected for a slight moment but he quickly returns to your face: mouth slightly agar as you take wide gulps of air from just how powerful that orgasm was.

You weakly try to slide up and slip his cock out of you, he’s quick to slam right back in to the hilt.

“That’s not fair, I haven’t came yet, I think you can spare a few more hours” he taps your cheek lightly in a mocking manner.

“You can can’t you?” He purrs out so seductively.

“I’can” you slur out slowly looking so fucked out and In scaras terms ready for another orgasm just like that one.

He keeps fucking into you, even if his cock is soaked in just your cum, or when he switched positions to him standing and holding you with your arms wrapped around his neck whilst he fucks up into your pussy. The floor decorated with your juices just drive him to keep ruining you. When he finally does cum it’s mind-blowing, he bites down so hard on your neck that you think it drew blood. It muffles his loud groan as his balls constrict and he’s filling you with his load, you think the virgin will stop and be one and done but he isn’t, he pauses to breathe but starts bouncing you up and down on his cock all over again.

Scaramouche thinks he actually wants you alive, wants to keep feeling your hot pussy milk him nonstop, he’s interrupted in his thoughts with you weakly begging for more, you’re so fucking gross, wanting to be filled with more of his cum regardless of your hatred for him.

[ty-bayonet-betteridge]

two of the transfems youre friends with have been talking to you about the clinic they got their bottom surgery done at. apparently its dirt cheap, and the surgeon - despite some oddities and, your friends admit, poor hygiene - is incredibly talented. theyre more than happy to give you her phone number when you ask, and while it sounds simultaneously incredibly sketchy and way too good to be true, at this point youre just so broke, desperate, and tired of gatekeepers that you're willing to give it a shot.

you call on a thursday afternoon, and the call is picked up on the fourth ring, when youre just gearing up to hear an answering machine. the voice on the other end sounds like a middle-aged woman with a smoking habit trying to sound like a cheery, bubbly young girl, and mostly succeeding. hiiiii! what can i do for you? she asks. you say er im looking for a surgical clinic is this the right number? she says mhm! thats me. you say okay, i just have a few questions. she says shoot. you say do you take patients who arent referred to you? she says nobody refers patients to me so yes. then she giggles. youve never heard somebody pull off a giggle in real life. you ask okay, so ive been looking for a place to get my metoidoplasty done, can you do that here? she says i dont know what that is give me like five seconds. then the line goes silent. you can hear her typing on a mechanical keyboard and humming to herself as she reads. youre now convinced that this is not in any way a legitimate medical institution.

youre about to hang up when she comes back on the line. OH you need a dick she says. sure i can do that! does tuesday afternoon work for you? i have that morning free too but i HATE getting up in the mornings so id rather not schedule it if i have to. you say tuesday afternoon is fine, how long should i expect the visit to be? she says i dont know like seven hours? you say seven hours? she says yeah give or take a few, every person is different so i dont know what itll be like until ive got your cunt opened up. honestly probably best to take the whole day off just in case it turns out to be a tough operation. you dont respond to that immediately. she says oh shoot should i not use the word cunt, is that too gendered? sorry. you say no its fine. you say i thought i was just going in for a consult? she says i mean yeah if youd rather. i dont mind doing same-day but some people like having more time to think about their options. do you have somewhere to be tuesday night or something? you say no its just... no tuesday afternoon should be fine. she says okay great!

she gives you her address. she says knock three times so i know its you and not my parole officer. parole officer you ask? she says im being good i promise but i still hate talking to him hes boring. you say if you dont mind me asking what were you imprisoned for? she says the ones i plead guilty to at the trial were a hundred and ninety-two counts of first-degree murder with a parahuman ability, two hundred and fifty-six counts of physical and emotional torture with a parahuman ability, five hundred and six counts of intentional infliction of emotional distress with a parahuman ability, four hundred ninety-eight counts of aggravated assault and battery with a parahuman ability, four hundred twenty five counts of domestic terrorism with a parahuman ability and two hundred and twelve counts without, three counts of arson, two hundred forty two counts of burglary with a parahuman ability, three hundred eight four counts of robbery with a parahuman ability, four hundred twenty seven counts of abduction with a parahuman ability, a hundred eighty six counts of human trafficking with a parahuman ability, three hundred ninety counts of destruction of public property with a parahuman ability, eighty counts of possession of a controlled substance, more than three thousand conspiracy and complicity charges in various felonies, eighteen violations of the Geneva Conventions, and the unauthorized practice of medicine. i plead not guilty to the larceny, sexual assault, contempt of court, corporate espionage, and identity theft charges and the prosecutor didnt really try to fight it since i had already earned seventy life sentences from the other stuff so im technically innocent of those.

you dont say anything to that.

after three seconds of silence she says sooooooooo i'll see you tuesday? you say tuesday, yeah. what was your name again? Riley, she says. Riley Grace Davis. you say thanks again and then hang up.

you debate constantly during the intervening days whether you should go on tuesday. youre grateful your friend group is so slutty; it means youve already seen with your own eyes that this surgery is real and not just a lure to murder you. still, you have some reservations, which you think is perfectly understandable.

you call one of your friends whos been there already. she picks up and you say if this is a joke its only sort of funny. she says if whats a joke? you say the clinic. you say you DID give me the actual number to the place where you actually had your bottom surgery done right? she says yeah, dont worry the surgeons so sweet. you say she admitted to doing two hundred murders when she was on the phone. she says i dont know anything about that but i trust her. you say if i end up dead, kidnapped, or mutilated, its your fault. she says dont worry about it.

tuesday comes. you never agreed to an exact time so you show up as early as you can and still have it be "afternoon" in your mind - 12:30. you climb the rusted fire escape to the third floor door and knock three times. the door is answered by a woman six feet tall in casual but very nice clothes with frizzy brown hair and an expression you cant read. you say er, riley? she says nope. another girl pushes past her, exasperated. she's maybe five foot two and her wavy blonde hair is worn down, with a red bow in it. she's wearing torn jeans - naturally torn, not the sort that you buy with holes in them that youve always hated but the kind that were once normal jeans and now have worn through much of the fabric on the knees. her tshirt is faded and has stains that you cant quite place on it, but youre pretty sure it was once Eidolon merchandise.

she says damnit amy let me answer the door next time. the taller woman, amy apparently, shrugs and steps aside to let you in riley claps her hands together once youre inside and the door is shut. introductions! she shouts. amy, this is, er... I never actually got your name? you tell them your name. she says right! hes one of my clients. and this is Amy, my sister. dont worry about her, shes just a little awkward. amy says can you PLEASE not introduce me as your sister. riley says make me. then she grabs amys shirt and pulls her down, standing on her tiptoes at the same time. they kiss in a very un-sisterly way. you clear your throat politely.

riley breaks away and says right, yeah, sorry! i get distracted easy. youre here to get a dick right. you splutter a bit, both at the bluntness of the question and the fact that amy is still standing right there. riley follows your gaze. she says oh dont worry about her! sorry, i wouldve run her off earlier, i thought you wouldnt come by for another few hours. you say sorry. she says dont worry, its her fault. amy says you didnt tell me you had a client. riley says you didnt ASK. you clear your throat politely again. you say er yes, i did come in for metoidoplasty. she bites her lip and furrows her brow. she says metoido... oh right. well i dont really do that here but i can give you a dick. you say uh im not really interested in phalloplasty. she says whats phalloplasty? amy says its the construction of a penis, usually via tissue flap taken from another part of the body, often followed by the insertion of prosthetics to allow the constructed penis to achieve erection. riley says oh, huh. yeah i dont do that either. i can give you a dick though. she takes a second then puts on an exaggerated scowl. who would want that she asks? amy says lots of people prefer it to metoido for aesthetic reasons or because they dont think theyll be large enough for penetrative sex with metoido. riley says but it wouldnt feel like a dick! man, some surgeons are talentless hacks.

you clear your throat again. you say so if youre- riley says youre clearing your throat a lot, are you okay? you say im fine, its just- she says oh duh were being so rude! why are we all standing around here. come sit down in the living room, do you want anything to drink? she leads you into the living room. it has the unmistakable air of a room thats been cleaned recently, with vacuuming marks present in the carpet and the unmistakable scent of air freshener. the sofa that you're gestured to sit on is, by contrast, unbelievably filthy. stains of every sort are visible on it - some of them are obvious, like the patches of blood and vomit or the ring of a coffee mug. others take you a second to place, like the crusty streak along one cushion that you realize all at once is semen, or the sticky yellow parts that you hope to god are honey. some of them, like the muddy green handprint along one arm of the sofa or the deep black smudge along a seat, are completely foreign to you. you can smell it from several feet away.

amy notices your hesitancy. she says i keep telling her to throw that thing out. riley says and i keep telling HER that its a relic from earth bet! its an antique and itll be worth millions soon. it just needs a good deep cleaning. amy says what that sofa needs is a bullet, not a deep clean. you sit down. drink? riley asks. you say er what do you have? she says water, diet coke, vodka, coffee. no more beer though, SOMEBODY drank the last one. amy says you never said they were off limits! riley says they arent, im just teasing. you say waters fine. riley says aaaaaaaaaamyyyyyyy, could you pleeeeeeaaaaaaaase go get our guest a glass of water and me a diet coke? oh and can you grab the pill bottle on the second shelf of the spice cabinet. amy says sure, i'll be right back.

riley sits down next to you. she says sooooooo what do you want for your dick? you say sorry, if youre not doing phallo or metoido then what exactly are you offering? she says no offense but it would take like literally eight years to give you enough background info for you to understand my explanation, and i dont have that kind of time. im not getting any younger. except for when i am. she laughs louder than you thought a human could. you have no idea how to describe the sound of her laughter. she says just tell me about your dream dick and ill give it to you. trust me, im a doctor.

except that youre not, amy says, returning with glasses and pills in hand. she sets the water down in front of you and you immediately take large gulps, feeling very much lost right now. riley says am TOO, accepting the pill bottle and diet coke from amy. she frowns. why is it can diet coke, she asks? she says glass bottle is so much better. she says why did i even BUY can. amy says they are literally the same liquid, what do you mean its better. riley says theyre not the same, stop deluding yourself. amy says which of us is the REAL doctor? riley says both of us! the PRT finally issued me an equivalency. youre talking to doctor riley davis, MED. amy says oh really? congrats she says. riley beams. then she unscrews the lid of the unlabeled, dark brown glass bottle, grabs three pills, and pops them into her mouth.

what is that you ask. ectasy she says. you want some? you say no thanks. she says you sure? you say i probably shouldnt take drugs before an operation, what if it interacts with the anesthetic? riley says dont worry, i made my own anesthetic that has zero drug-drug interactions. amy says except with sudafed. riley says ok YEAH except with sudafed, how was i supposed to know? she glances at you. you dont take sudafed do you she asks. you say no. she says good. it was such a bitch cleaning the pus off the ceiling she says. you say huh? she says dont worry about it, you dont take sudafed. she says are you sure you dont want any ecstasy? i promise its pure. you say i dont want to get addicted. she says i can surgically remove the addiction pathway from your brain if that would help. amy says riley, no means no. riley says fine. do you want any ecstasy babe? she says no thanks. riley frowns. she says you guys are a bunch of squares. she pops a fourth one and starts chugging diet coke.

she slams the can down after drinking what must be half of it, wipes her mouth with her arm and grins. sorry, we keep getting distracted! she says. she says im getting into the start of a manic episode and that always makes me roll right over people in conversation. what do you want for your dick? you say um. i hadnt really thought about it. its not normally a choice beyond the type of surgery, you sort of just end up with whatever the doctors are able to make work? thats lame she says. why are normal doctors all so lame she says. ok, rude amy says. OBVIOUSLY im not talking about you babe riley says. and stop distracting me from my client! amy holds up her hands in mock surrender, an easy smile on her face.

you didnt bring a toy with you did you, riley asks. you say huh. she says sometimes people bring a toy that they want me to model it after and that makes everything a lot easier. you say no you didn't. you say i hadn't really thought about my preferences, can we go dealer's choice on this? amy pipes up. she says you REALLY dont want riley to go dealers choice. riley says shut up and get me another diet coke, i just finished this one. amy says yes princess. you honestly cant read whether it was meant to be mocking or endearing. riley turns back to you. ok, she says, lets start with basics. primate? canid? equine? suine? dolphin? i could give you a hyena pseudopenis but i dont know if that would be offensive. you say human is fine. she says please dont tell me you're gonna just be boring this whole time. you say define boring. she sighs deeply and starts massaging her temples. amy, having stepped into the room in time to hear the last bit of conversation, tousles rileys hair. she says sorry babe, customer's always right.

you work out the appearance of your soon-to-exist cock this way. riley asks questions about length, girth, hair, amount of semen generated, percentage growth when erect, and you try to give what you think are average answers every time. amy watches, bemused, the whole time. halfway through she leaves to get the bottle of vodka. she drinks five shots in fifteen minutes. you say i didnt think the human body had that much capacity for alcohol resistance. she says it doesnt. riley swats playfully at her arm.

eventually, riley grabs a set of crayons and a cocktail napkin. she says ok, i think we got it, scribbling furiously. she shows you a crayon drawing of a dick. this look good she asks? you squint at it. there are no measurements given and the medium does not allow you to make out any fine detail. you say yeah thats fine. amy tries and fails to hide a smile. riley chucks the napkin aside and rubs her hands together. boring parts done! she says. time to get messy she says. amy pours a sixth shot of vodka. she says dont forget the anesthetic first. riley rolls her eyes. she says OBVIOUSLY i didnt forget the anesthetic. she says ill be right back. as soon as she leaves the room, amy knocks back her shot. she turns to you. she says you mind if i stay and watch? she says i dont want to make you uncomfortable, but i like watching her work. shes cute when shes working. you say at this point youre not sure you would mind anything at all. you say at this point you dont think you would be fazed if she came back with a fully-formed dick wriggling around in her hand like a fish and sewed it onto me. she says dont tempt fate.

riley comes back with a black bag the size of her head, which she sets on the coffee table with a thunk. she points at you and says okay, clothes off. or pants off i guess. you can leave the shirt on. or take it off. i dont care. you take it off. she tells you to lie down and starts pulling things out of the bag. amy stands up from the sofa to give you the space to stretch out and sits on the coffee table instead, one leg pulled up to her chest with her chin resting on her knee.

riley pulls out a syringe from the bag, filled with pitch-black fluid. she says okay this will hurt for a second but only for a second. you say huh? she flips you over onto your belly and jabs the needle against your lower back, into your spinal column. it hurts like a bitch for all of two seconds and then you stop feeling anything at all in your lower body. you also cant move your legs, you realize. what just happened you ask, as she flips you onto your back again. she says i just killed all the cells in the nerves in your lower spine. she says its the easiest way to make sure none of the pain signals slip through, and she'll just replace them with living ones when she's done. you don't know how to respond to that.

she pulls more things out of the bag. a cartoonish array of different cutting implements come out. most of them are various sizes of medical scalpel, ring cutter, or saw, but you also see a pair of chunky pink safety scissors, a pizza cutter, a serrated bread knife, an x-acto, a drill with a comically long bit, a pair of wire cutters, gardening shears, and an awl. she says okay im gonna start operating so look away if you dont wanna see how your crotch looks while its being rearranged. especially if you think you might puke, i hate having to stop to clean up puke in the middle of surgery. you look away. you notice amy is watching transfixed.

for a couple of hours things go on like that. amy and riley make light conversation, with riley filling any silence by humming a wordless tune you dont know. the sounds and smells youre getting are enough to make you slightly sick; you continue not looking.

in the middle of hour two, riley stops. oh goddamnit, she says. what amy asks? riley says she forgot that shed need extra meat. amy says you started a surgery to give somebody a whole new organ and forgot youd need more tissue to do it? riley says shut up, im dumb. amy says no youre not babe. riley says ughhhhh now what. amy says just get his stem cells to grow the tissue you need. riley says nooooooo thatll take forever, and i have places to BE tomorrow, and if i stop putting pressure on him here hes going to bleed out through his cunt. you say wait, what? amy says well i dont know what you want me to do about this situation, i gave you my solution. riley says baaaaaaaaaaabe. amy says whaaaaaaaaaaaat. riley says i think we have some bacon in the fridge, will you pretty please with sprinkles on top go get it? amy says and what do i get in return? riley says a kiss. amy says id get that anyway. riley says my undying love and affection. amy says i have that already. riley says not making me angry at you so you can sleep under my roof without having to worry that ill turn your sweat glands into acid glands in the middle of the night. amy says that, plus i get to top tonight. riley says fiiiiiiiiine, just go get the bacon. amy gets up.

you say look uh i know you said not to question what youre doing but i kind of dont want a dick made of bacon, not to sound ungrateful. also did you say something about me bleeding out? riley says dont worry, if you bleed out ill put the blood back in, im a professional. you say thats not as reassuring as she thinks it is. riley says whos the doctor, mister? you say technically both of us. i have a phd in social sciences you say. she says wow, theyre just giving out doctorates for anything these days, huh? you say hey, rude. she says only teasing. you say anyway, uh, you didnt address the bacon dick thing? she says oh dont worry about it, my amys amazing, youll see.

amy comes back in with the package of bacon. do you need this in any particular shape she asks. riley says nah just give me a good amount of it. and make sure its spongy, so when he gets hard the blood can- amy cuts her off. she says dont worry, ive given you enough penises at this point that i think i know what penile tissue is like at this point. you say given her enough penises? what the hell does that mean? riley says hey, dont kinkshame! she sounds legitimately offended. you say sorry. amy pulls the bacon out of the package, holding it aloft in her left hand. you watch as the familiar look of a half-pound of bacon shifts and warps into a strange lump of fatty, spongy tissue of a waxy color. she hands it to riley. riley says thanks sis youre the best, love you! amy says no problem. riley says id kiss you if i wasnt elbow deep in this guys cunt right now. amy says kiss me after the surgerys done.

another two hours go by. the sounds of flesh being chopped, sawed, and stitched underscore riley and amys meaningless conversation about whether they HAVE to attend their acquaintance lisa's birthday party. riley says lisa probably wouldn't throw a birthday party if there wasn't some sort of scheme going on. amy agrees but says that doesnt indicate whether they should get involved with the scheme or not. you wonder dimly if you will ever feel your lower body again. you wonder if this is purgatory, an endless afternoon of lesbians bickering affectionately while one of them does surgery on you. you turn your head enough to look at the clock. its 5:26pm. where the fuck did the time go?

another hour passes. riley stands up. she is soaked up to her elbow in various bodily fluids - mostly blood, but youre not looking too closely. she says finally! she says just need to regrow your nerve cells now. you say is that going to take long? she says like twenty minutes maybe as she flips you over. you say ok. she jams a different needle into the same spot, injecting a strange yellow paste into your spine. she then flips you onto your back again. you feel brave enough to finally look at your crotch.

there is a completely normal human penis of average size there. you reach a hand down and touch it. you dont have any sensation in it yet since your nerves are all still dead, but it feels warm and soft under your hands. you smile, feeling tears come to your eyes. its over.

rileys talking. she says i followed your specifications except i had to cheat a bit on the nerves, you actually didnt have very many in your clit for whatever reason so your glans has maybe eight thousand fewer nerves than you wanted, sorry about that. she says i gave you balls in your scrotum for shape but since you said you didnt want kids they dont produce sperm. let me know if you want that changed she says. she says it should be fully functional in every respect, but if you notice any erectile dysfunction, incontinence, discoloration in urine or semen, priapism, or any other issue come back and we'll sort it out. if you notice it bleeding in ANY capacity, call me immediately. if im not answering call Amy, ill give you her number. if SHES not answering either then you can start seeing normal doctors, not that those idiots will know how to help you probably. if you want any changes to it call me and ill pencil you in to get it adjusted. get all that she asks. you nod. she says cool. she says itll be like $200, no rush if youre not able to pay right now. you say it might be a bit since youre still trying to pay interest on your student loan debt. wait, she says, they have student loans again? you nod. she says the world ended like thirty years ago, when did they set up student loans again? fuck, how much do you owe? you say a little under eighty thousand. she says jesus fuck, nevermind, its free. goddamn. you say thank you so much. she says yeah of course. do you want us to dress you or do you want to wait until you can move and do it yourself?

[neil-gaiman]

Id like to let you know that I recently lost my annotated and very well-loved copy of Fragile Things in the San Diego Airport.

Rather, I lent it to a goth kid who'd been sitting next to me and wanted to know if I had an Android charger. I did. She plugged her phone in, and a pinhole light on the screen blinked into life. We both looked at the otherwise dead screen for a moment, and I asked her where she was flying to. New York, she said.

Then she asked me what book I was reading - Fragile Things, I told her, by the same guy who wrote Coraline. What's it *about*, though, she asked again.

Im at best a mediocre writer, so I rather gave her the book than trying to explain things myself. I figure some folks get Hugos for writing stories, and I should let 'em do it.

She didnt seem to mind my scribbles in the margins, and it was fun, watching a painted face that looked so somber and serious just a few minutes ago smile. A Study in Emerald had its surprising share of humour. After a while, I stopped paying attention and scrolled absentmindedly through my phone.

Then I hear my flight called - San Diego to Philadelphia, the boarding now, group C, C as in Coconut. I grab my bag, my phone, my ticket, pat my pockets down for my passport, my overstuffed backpack, precariously balanced on my carryon luggage, my headphone wires tangled in the strap of my purse and jerked out of my ears. I trot hastily over to the gate check - a smile, a beep, and I'm shuffled down the gangway and into the plane. My things stowed, and myself cozy against the window.

This was when I went to reach for my book, and realised that it was missing - still nestled comfortably in the hands of a 15-odd goth.

I miss my book. It had many memories in it, beyond the stories told there. My grandfather was still alive when i first read Fragile Things, and he was the one who gave it to me. But I hope that the kid who has it now will also love the stories you wrote. I hope maybe she will remember me and our little story, that we now share. Maybe she will also keep other memories of her own in there.

It seems an oddly fitting way for me to part with this book. It was an old fragile thing, given to me by a fragile man, and left to a child with whom i had only a fragile, tenuous connection.

Or maybe I'm reading too much into things, i don't know.

At any rate, if you read all this rambling, thank you mister Gaiman.

I hope it was the book she needed.

[dovveri]

pleaseee thigh riding with sana. shes extremely mean after a little teasing. lots of degrading. :D

the edge's temptation

synopsis: what the ask said

warnings: edging, spanking, pussy spanking, swearing, mentions of exhibitionism, kind of petplay? but not rly idk reader wears a collar and leash and sana calls her pup like once, grinding, thigh-riding, strap-ons, degradation

w/c: 2k

a/n: this has been sitting in drafts since... june 22 LMAOO id write like one sentence a week i cant write smut id rather kiss a man but here it is at last!! idk if the anon who req this is still here after all the drama but i think there are others who'll like this anyway bcs yall all horknee so enjoy!

｡ •̀ ᵕ •́ ｡

your girlfriend was impossible. she had already edged you twice tonight, and an orgasm was nowhere in sight.

"s-sana p-le-ase!"

she tuts, "what do you want?"

"wanna c-cum! p-please i've been- fuck- good!"

"good? bending over and sucking off half the audience is good?"

"i- i didn't- i didn't!"

"you basically did. you think just anyone can touch you? is that what we're doing now? fucking whore. you'd do anything for attention wouldn't you?"

"n-no! o-only yours- shit- sana please- i'm not- i'm good-"

"good girls don't lie. what you are is a liar and a slut. maybe i should just give you what you want. i can bring you back out there, fuck you in front of the entire award show. then they'll know they can't touch you right?"

you pulse at the thought, you know she'd never actually do it, she was way too possessive to let anyone else see you bare and ruined for her, but the slim possibility, the very real irritation she was exuding had you picturing exactly the situation she described. and fuck she was right, she knew you too well. you'd love to be claimed in front of everyone, for the whole world to see just how good sana could make you feel.

she chuckles darkly, ripping her fingers out of you, "clenching around me at that? and you say you're good. fucking pathetic. suck."

it's not a command. she shoves her fingers into your open, panting mouth roughly, chin tilting up at the sight of you. your lips immediately close around her fingers and you suck your slick off her digits obediently, eyes lidded, dizzy from the taste of yourself and the way she was treating you.

sana's eyes roam over the expanse of skin while you suck on her fingers, her hands tracing over the lines of your body. you're perched across her lap, her hand palming your ass, pretty lilac collar around your neck attached to a dark purple leash she's rolling around loosely in her other hand.

“look at you, dripping onto me. was this all me?” the hand that’s at your ass dips down, her fingers coming to slide between your soaked lips, “or was it the guys that fawned over you tonight? attention whore.” she sends a slap to your pussy, the contact making you whine, squirming away but also desperately needing more.

“i don’t even see how that one guy you let touch your waist was so funny. you were laughing so prettily, head tilted back, almost like you were tempting him to just claim the empty space on your neck.” she tugs the leash, your body lurching forward, pussy meeting her knee, throat constricting, trying to prolong the pressure on your cunt before she slaps your ass, pulling your hips back so you’re weight is on your hands and knees again.

“you’re mine. everything is mine. your voice, this pretty ass, these tits, your pussy, it’s all mine to feel, mine to enjoy, mine to see.” she punctuates each phrase with the tug of a nipple or a slap against reddened skin. “no one else can make you feel this good anyway isn’t that right slut? and yet you still look for that attention. it’s like you want me to get mad. is that it? do you want my attention? do you want me to treat you like this? you want me to get all possessive and mean? turns you on huh? well i hate to break it to you sweetie but only good girls get to cum.”

you whine, daring to turn your head to look at her with a pleading look, begging for something, anything.

she scoffs, "is that your begging face? i saw you use the exact same one with those guys tonight."

your face morphs into shock, trying to backtrack, "n-no i didn't! i didn't i swear- you- you must have seen wrong-"

"you saying there's something wrong with my eyes?"

"no! no no not you, p-please please i'm sorry i- i'll be good please-"

she tuts again, moving you around so you're sitting on her lap, dripping cunt finally getting some friction against the skin of her thigh. you moan at the feeling, frantically humping down against her while she has you there.

"look at you- pathetic."

you whine, wrapping your hands around her neck and burying your face into her shoulder, whimpering and gasping with each thrust against her thigh, too embarrassed to look at her but too desperate to keep yourself still. you almost cry out when she tenses her thigh, the muscle rubbing along your clit in just the way you needed.

"s-sana i want to- can i- please- i wanna-"

"what? what does my little pup want?"

"cum! c-can i cum!?"

sana's quiet for a little, you're almost afraid you've done something wrong or she's no longer into it, but you're physical needs outweighed your saner mind, your one-track mind only concerned with feeling as good as she was making you feel.

so you continue rutting against her, chasing your high desperately while she bites her lip, watching your tits sway with each thrust, her own position compromised as she feels herself grow sticky and wet from the sight and sounds.

you push against her, more and more, whining and moaning right into her ear, knowing she loves to hear you, testing her patience, fluttering internally at the way her grip on your hips tighten with each second, nails digging into your skin just enough to give that perfect sting you adored.

“s-sana? c-can i?” you ask again, holding back the looming crash of your orgasm through tensed muscles.

her eyes snap up to yours and then she grips your hips even harder, forcing you to stop.

you cry, body automatically fighting against her, trying to reject her, but it knew who owned it. you succumbed within seconds, gasping into her shoulder, mourning the loss of what could've been.

"at least you're polite now." her voice is gruff, nails still digging into your skin.

you can’t respond, too exhausted and despaired to do anything but cry.

you don’t even notice her shuffling you around, your hips canting up into nothing whenever she even lingers near your cunt.

that is until you feel the cool silicone strap dragging through your folds, lubing itself up in your essence, catching at your clit, then dragging back down.

you clench around nothing, throwing your head back with an arm over your eyes.

sana tuts, pulling it away, “look at me when i fuck you pup. i’m gonna make sure you remember who owns you.” she thrusts inside, doesn’t give you a chance to think before pulling back out, “gonna make sure you remember who you come home to.” another thrust. “going to fuck you out so good you’ll never be able to take anyone else but me.”

and then she takes off.

she’s gripping your hands together on your lower stomach. that way, your arms push your chest in for her pleasured viewing as she fucks into you with rigor. it also stops you from leaving lines of red down her back while she groans at the sight of the light purple strap attached to herself, grinding against her own clit with each thrust, pulling out wetter than it was each time it goes inside you.

“f-fuck- sana- oh god- i’m- you’re so good fuck-“

“yeah? can anyone else make you feel this way? anyone else- you’d cum for?”

“n-no! only y-you sana fuck- please can i- please-!”

“hold on a little longer baby- let me- fuck god you look so fucking good-"

you whine, thighs shaking as she keeps plowing into you, her eyes locked on the way she pushes inside you every half second. you don't think you can hold on for much longer, she had to understand right? she had edged you three times now, and you were already soo worked up even before she got her hands on you. that wasn't really your fault, she just looked so good in her pretty dress tonight and you couldn't stop imagining her between your legs, eating you out under the dining table while the rest of the world applauded people that would never hold a light to your girlfriend.

"sana i'm gonna- i can't hold it any longer-"

"i told you to fucking wait- fuck- you want me to stop again? huh? leave you hanging all splayed out and desperate to cum?"

you shake your head desperately, holding onto her wrists, eyes clenching shut trying to ward off the looming orgasm.

"i'm almost there baby we'll cum together- c'mon- fuck- you look so good- only i get to see you like this- fuck-"

you nod, her words swimming around in your head, doing whatever you can to appease her, hips returning her thrusts in a frenzy, not even trying to match her pace, just fucked out dumb and reacting with pure physicality.

she leans down, finally, panting next to your ear, thrusts reaching deeper than ever, "alright baby. cum for me."

you cum on command, clenching tightly around her and scream as you come undone, head thrown back, body fluttering and shaking as she continues rutting into you albeit slower and softer. you dimly register her muttering small curses against your throat as you come down, hips stuttering to a slow stop, still buried deep inside you.

you wrap your arms around her tightly now that she's freed you, hugging your sweaty bodies close and reveling in the feeling of her weight on top of you.

you lay like that for a few minutes, breathing in her scent and catching your breath together.

eventually, she has to pull out and you groan lightly as she gently coaxes herself off of you, brushing your sweaty hair off your forehead and pecking you sweetly.

you make grabby hands at her when she’s standing and taking the harness off.

sana giggles, “just a minute baby. you know i wanna cuddle too but i have to clean this.”

you whine incomprehensibly, mumbling a small hurry as she walks towards your bathroom and starts rinsing the strap off.

she comes back far too late for your liking so you try and make up for it by curling around her immediately, climbing almost on top of her and sighing when she runs a hand through your hair in comfort.

“good?”

“you don’t even have to ask.” you mumble against her bare chest, eyes drooping.

she giggles again, you feel the movement in her throat, “wasn’t too much right?”

you shake your head, “you were perfect. like always. thank you. i love you.”

you feel the smile on her lips when she kisses your forehead, “don’t pull that shit in public again or i swear-“

“you’ll fuck it out of me?” you glance up at her with a lazy smile and lidded eyes.

she rolls her eyes, tightening her grip around you, “spoilt.”

“because you love me.”

“i do. even when you’re being a brat.”

“you love when i’m a brat. you love taking power anyway since everyone thinks you can’t top.”

“who thinks that?!”

you shrug, cuddling closer as she gawks at you, trying to get you to look at her. “jeongie says it’s because you have no muscle.” you poke at her bicep lovingly, laughing when she blanches and tries flexing immediately, “nayeonnie says you’re too much of a baby.”

“am not!”

“and momo just doesn’t see it.”

“wha-“

“and she’s known you for the longest soo-“

“okay first of all my muscle is growing back! second, nayeon just says that because she treats me like that and she’s never known otherwise! and momo- momo’s just saying shit because she wants to mess with me!”

you laugh, clasping your hands together and kissing the swell of her breast, “i know i know… i’m not complaining anyway.” you stretch and curl back around her like a cat, “i get all the benefits.”

sana puffs her chest and you adore her pride. “that’s right.”

you giggle, kissing her again and continue talking about nothing and everything, a non-negotiable for the both of you after any session, no matter how quick or small.

[rafesangelita]

♡ ward introduces the newest assistant to the office, and rafe has to have her.

warnings: lots of flirting, secrecy, super sweet fluff, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting

word count: 3.2k

“so if you’ll come this way, you’ll see the meeting room, which is where i’ll properly introduce you to the team in about fifteen minutes,” you followed mr. cameron, your new boss, around the cubicle packed room, smiling softly at those who cared enough to look up from their computers. “there’s not really much of a dress code, all i ask is that you dress for a corporate setting.” he lead you back to his office, where he asked you to take a seat.

“i won’t work you too much, i really just need someone who can keep me and my appointments with my clients organized. my son rafe, who is co-owner at the moment, will also be in need of your assistance, no worries though all he needs from you is to keep him updated on shipments and checking back in with clients to make sure they are more than happy with our services.” mr. cameron pushed a small stack of papers towards you.

“this is just the code of conduct, some expectations for here in the office. i’m gonna go take a phone call, and you can sign those documents in the meantime.” he patted your shoulder on his way out. you took a breath, flipping through the pages. everything looked pretty standard, all drugs prohibited, anyone under the influence will be asked to go home and will be terminated effective immediately, no firearms or weapons allowed while being in the building, etc…

then there was one rule, the only rule, in bold: ANY AND ALL ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIPS WITH THOSE OF HIGHER POSITIONS WILL RESULT IN TERMINATION OF BOTH PARTIES.

you hummed to yourself, mindlessly signing the papers with no clue of what was ahead of you. just as you finished signing the last page, mr. cameron walked in, flashing you a smile as you handed him the papers back. “do you have any questions for me?” he typed something up on his computer, the printer starting up soon after. “i do, actually. how come the rule for forbidding romantic relationships with higher ups the only one bolded? it’s not a problem or anything! i’m just wondering..” you cleared your throat.

“ah,” he stood up, “well the reason why it’s emphasized is because we want to avoid any and all legal troubles. lawsuits, investigations, it’s a really bad look for my company, and i would rather my employees keep their personal lives out of the office, especially those who are being paid very generously.” you nodded in understanding. “i see. very smart move.” you adjusted the ring on your finger, accepting a paper with your photo on it from mr. cameron.

“why, thank you. anyways, this is a temporary id for when you want to leave and enter the building. rafe is usually in charge of getting the id badges for our employees so he should have that ready for you by the end of the day.” he glanced down at his watch. “shall we get you introduced to everyone?” you nodded, making sure your head was held high as you two made your way to the already full meeting room. while everyone had been making small talk, rafe stayed silent while he stared at the blank presentation screen.

“good morning, everyone! i hope all is well, we’re here to discuss the construction plans for the skyscraper on the mainland, and i also have a new employee i’d like for everyone to meet,” rafe only saw your back profile, but with the view of your hips swaying in your tight pencil skirt and matching heels, it felt like eternity before you finally turned around, the sight of your perfect blowout and soft makeup doing something to his brain.. and his pants.

“this is y/n, and she is the new assistant to rafe and i. she comes from the mainland and has a degree in architecture, she is surely an amazing addition to our team, so i only expect the best treatment for her, as i do all of you.” you smiled, meeting everyone’s gaze, your heart stuttering in your chest when your eyes landed on him. he looked emotionless, but little did you know he was thinking of all the ways he could take you on his work desk.

“you can go ahead and take a seat, and we’ll get started.” you looked around, the only open seat being next to the man that made your stomach flip with a simple glance. you walked over, letting out a small ‘sorry!’ as you sat down, your knee bumping his. he didn’t acknowledge you at first, but once all eyes were on mr. cameron, rafe leaned in to speak to you quietly. “y/n, that’s your name?” you smelt his cologne before you could speak, the scent becoming your new favorite.

“yes, and yours?” rafe took your hand in his. “rafe cameron.” it took everything in you not to let your jaw drop. of course the insanely hot one was off limits. “nice to meet you.” you looked down, unable to maintain eye contact with him. rafe didn’t let go of your hand right away, clearly enjoying how shy he made you. “i’m assuming my father showed you around already?” you nodded, crossing one leg over the other. apart of you was slightly annoyed with yourself. you weren’t a shy girl, you didn’t avoid the stares of men, but rafe? he was a totally different ballpark.

“we’ll talk in my office after this.” he let go of your hand, smiling at you softly as you took out a notebook and pen, jotting down notes from what mr. cameron was going over. just like the rest of his father’s meetings, he wished this one would hurry up and end, wanting nothing more than to get you to himself already. thirty minutes later, and you found yourself sitting in front of rafe, both of you laughing about a topic he brought up.

“you know.. you carry conversation very well. a lot of people don’t know how to do that.” you adjusted your purse on your shoulder, both of you exchanging looks. he was wearing a white button down and slacks, his sleeves rolled up slightly. “thank you.” your words came out soft, the urge to steal a peek at his arms nearly unbearable. rafe examined you for a moment. “you dress very nicely, i like that.” he walked around his desk, leaning on the hardwood. “is this satin?” he rolled the fabric of your sleeve between his fingers.

if it was anyone else, you would’ve curled your lip in disgust before storming out the room and never looking back, but with the way this man towered over you, his eyes hungry as he stared you down, you met his gaze. “it is. and this? all leather?” it was a bold move, even for you, but if he was going there, you were going to meet him halfway. rafe sucked in a breath as your fingertips skimmed his belt. his hand came over yours, trailing it down his slacks, “we’re going to get along just perfectly.”

the next two weeks are a blur. first, you were too shy to look at this man, now he was stroking your thigh underneath the table during meetings. after he guided your hand over his hardening cock that fated day, it’s been nothing but hell for him, and you were enjoying every second of it. no one suspected a thing, and mr. cameron had actually told you to reside in rafe’s office for the time being while he worked to set you up somewhere nice. while rafe has been doing everything to get you where he wants you, you’ve been teasing him endlessly.

like today, you wore a black lace bra under your blouse, leaving it three buttons too shy so rafe could see what’s underneath. “mrs. thornton is on line one.” you’d bat your eyelashes up at him innocently, his teeth tugging on his bottom lip as he stared at your exposed cleavage. “you’re killing me, woman.” you’d laugh before getting out of his chair so he could take a seat. while he talked on the phone, you thought about the next way to torture him.

before you could start writing a dirty note for him, there was a light knock at the door. “come in!” rafe shouted, resuming his phone call while margaret, the receptionist, brought in the largest vase of flowers you’ve ever seen. “y/n? these are for you, honey.” you blinked, rushing to get up so you could take them out of her hands. “are- are you sure?” there was a small white envelope poking out the top. “positive. ask whoever sent you those if they have a brother.” she winked, leaving you dumbfounded.

you plopped down in one of the chairs in front of rafe’s desk, taking the envelope and revealing the small card inside.

you look beautiful everyday, so you’ll get flowers everyday <3

your head shot up at rafe who was already smiling at you. “sounds good, i look forward to our meeting mrs. thornton. yes, uh huh, alrighty goodbye.” you walked around his desk, rafe moving to face you. “did you get me these?” you took a seat on his lap, the most you ever let him touch you in two weeks. he sighed wrapping his arms around you as you read the card over and over’s again. “i did. ‘figured roses were too practical, so i got you peonies.” you smiled, pecking his cheek. “they’re my favorite.” there was a lot of intimacy going on right now that rafe wasn’t used too, but it was intimacy with you, it felt right.

“good to know. maybe we’ll get you through the catalog.” his hand rested flat on your tummy where your shirt had rode up. “you really didn’t have to do this. i love them.” you brought his coffee cup to your lips, your lipstick staining the rim as you placed the card back in the envelope. “i was thinking.. since tomorrow is the weekend and the office will be closed, why don’t we do something? i’d love to see you prance around in a bikini on my yacht.” he rested his chin in the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent.

“i bet you would,” you laughed, “that sounds fun. what time should i be ready?” you adjusted yourself, so your legs were hanging off his thighs. “mmm, how about two o’clock? we’ll stay to watch the sunset.” rafe stroked the side of your face, your eyes falling to his lips as you nodded. “i’d like that.” your voice dropped down to a whisper as he leaned in closely, his breath fanning the tip of your nose. “i want to kiss you so bad right now.” his jaw clenched as you ran a hand across his chest. “so kiss me, rafe.” you wrapped an arm around his neck to steady yourself.

just as his lips ghosted over yours, there was another knock at the door. both of you sighed, your foreheads resting against each other’s before you got up, taking the vase of flowers to your desk. “come in!” rafe wore an annoyed expression as mr. cameron walked in. “great timing, dad.” rafe grumbled, making a small smile grace your features. “listen, i need you to stay later and go over some of the projects that have been sent in, and flag the ones you think are worth investing in. i’m leaving so me and rose can catch our flight on time, we’ll be back by monday.” rafe nodded absently.

mr. cameron smiled. “good afternoon, y/n. flawless work these last couple of weeks, i almost forgot how easy things can be when properly organized. you have a great rest of your day.” you returned the gesture, tilting your head slightly. “why, thank you. i hope you have an amazing flight.” mr. cameron walked out, leaving you and rafe alone once again. “just what i wanted to do tonight. work overtime.” you watched as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “i could stay with you, help you out.” he shook his head. “i couldn’t ask you to do that. don’t worry it really shouldn’t take me that long.” you waved him off.

“don’t be ridiculous, i’ll be more than happy to review the submissions with you.” he wasn’t going to tell you no, so he let you have your way. after a few hours passed by, you made your way to the front desk where margaret was getting ready to leave. “you have a good weekend, y/n. see you monday!” you laughed at how quickly she got on the elevator to go home. you walked over to the copier room and grabbed the papers fresh out the printer. “well, office is officially empty. margaret just left.” rafe yawned, loosening the tie around his neck. “damn, it’s eight o’clock already?” you placed the papers on his desk, humming softly.

you let your hair down from it’s updo, the waves falling past your shoulders. “what?” rafe was looking up at you with half-lidded eyes. he pulled you down, making you straddle him. “thank you for doing this with me. because of you, we don’t have to stay late after all.” his hands ran up and down your back, untucking your blouse from your pants. you shivered when you felt his fingers against your bare skin. “you welcome.” you tried your hardest to suppress the moan that sat at the back of your mouth.

“do you remember where we were before we were rudely interrupted earlier?” rafe started unbottoning your shirt, revealing your black lacey bra underneath. “fuck.” he closed his eyes, clenching his fists as if he was holding himself back from ravishing you right then and there. you smiled, running your thumb over his bottom lip. “there’s no one here to interrupt us now.” he grabbed the back of your neck, finally taking your lips in a heated kiss.

he groaned, making you grind your hips against his. this kiss was like something you’ve never felt before. there was tension, hunger, the desire building up over these last couple of weeks now rising to the surface in this very moment. the sounds your lips were making was enough to make you pull away, your cheeks reddening. “you gonna get shy on me now?” he tilted your chin up so you could meet his stare. “no.. i’ve just wanted to do that ever since i saw you in the meeting room.” rafe smiled, standing you up.

“you wanna know what i’ve wanted to do since i saw you in the meeting room?” his fingers worked to unbutton your pants, sliding them down your legs before pushing you back on his desk. you sucked in a breath as he ran a hand up your thigh, his finger slipping underneath the waistband of your underwear before letting the elastic snap against your skin. you gasped softly, your head falling back as rafe trailed kisses from your navel to your neck, slotting himself between your thighs where he leaned his weight on you.

you shuddered, his hands cupping your tits through your bra as he laid you down. “i thought about bending you over, fucking you to tears while you struggle to keep quiet.” his words elicited a moan from you, your hips lifting so he could slip your underwears off. “as much as i want to do that right now, i want to taste you more.” your eyes fluttered shut as he pressed wet kisses to your inner thighs, his arms locking you in so you couldn’t close them.

you thought you knew what pleasure felt like, but once you felt rafe’s tongue plunge into you, your mind went blank as he went to work on your clit, your back arching off the hardwood. he switched from slow languid strokes to fast flicks that made you see stars. “feels so good, rafe,” your hands shot down to hold onto his, your nails digging into his wrists. “yeah? like it when i tongue fuck you like this?” your body jerked when you felt him at your entrance, your toes curling in your heels.

rafe was loving this. you tasted so much better than he imagined, his cock straining against the fabric of his slacks. just making you moan and whine was enough to make him feel like he could cum in his pants. “please,” you whimpered, “please fuck me.” rafe pulled away, snaking up your body to align with your lust filled gaze. “i want to fuck you, baby, i do. but i want the first time i fill you up with my cock to be more heartfelt. i promise tomorrow that’s all we’ll do.” your heart swelled at his want to make you feel special.

“okay,” you whispered, tasting yourself on his lips. before you had a chance to think, he shoved two fingers inside you, thrusting them while his thumb rubbed hard circles on your clit. he was unforgiving, the wetness of your cunt echoing in the confines of his office. “oh, fuck,” your eyebrows knitted together as your mouth fell open, his eyes burning into your face. “do you hear how fucking soaked you are?” your chest was heaving at this point, your eyes rolling back as your thighs threatened to close around his hand.

the force alone was making you squirm, your orgasm so close you could taste it. with his thumb rubbing your clit faster, and his fingers curling inside of you, hitting that spot that made you scream, you came with a cry of his name. “oh, that’s it baby, that’s it.” he cooed, your breath stuttering while you shook in pleasure. you felt like fireworks were going off in your tummy, your eyes screwed so hard shut that you could see colors behind them.

“can’t- can’t anymore,” you whined, overstimulation taking over. he didn’t stop, determined to pull one more orgasm out of you. rafe kissed you again, swallowing all of your whimpers and moans as he managed to push you towards the edge one last time tonight. “fuck!” your mewled, your eyes shooting open when you felt a gush between your legs. “o-oh! i’m sorry.” you looked at rafe’s shirt that was now wet with your slick. “sorry for what, beautiful? i was hoping i could make you do that.” he pecked your forehead, easing you through the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“you’re so perfect, you know that?” you blinked, your eyes shining up at him. “i don’t think i’ll ever be ready for this.” rafe groaned as you palmed him through his pants. “i don’t think i’ll be ready either.” he laughed, buttoning your shirt as you sat up. your legs were like jelly as you pulled on your underwear, rafe dressing you while you sighed blissfully. once you were both put together, rafe carried your purse and your vase of flowers for you as you two rode down the elevator to the empty lobby. he put your stuff in your car, making sure to shower you in kisses before letting you go in the driver’s seat.

“see you tomorrow?” he was leaning against your window as you nodded. “i look forward to it. goodnight, rafe.” he smiled. “goodnight, gorgeous.”

[devil-in-hiding]

imagine there’s a bar near the base the 141 are at. The bar caters to an older crowd, always playing classic rock songs and such. Obviously this is Prices favourite bar. All the songs he loves, pool tables and dart boards all around, the whole building has a nice old pub kind of feel. It’s a good place for him to unwind, most of the patrons there are in their late 40s to early 50s, they’re all there there to just unwind and relax after a work day. It’s the kind of bar people either go to with a small group of friends to hang out, or on their own to relax. It’s not the kind of place to go if you want a party, so of course there aren’t usually too many young people. So of course, imagine Johns surprise when the prettiest little bird plops down onto the bar stool next him. Big smile and bright eyes as she orders her drink, placing her ID down on the bar. John can’t help but sneak a glance at the card, looking at her name and age. And like he suspected, she was only in her early twenties. As she waits for her drink, she pulls out her phone, scrolling through her social media (Tumblr) and humming along to music that’s playing. Price keeps sneaking glances at her, admiring her out of the corner of his eyes. He’s pleasantly surprised to see her singing softly to the music, not expecting someone her age to know all these older rock songs. Eventually she notices his lingering gaze, looking over to him with such a sweet smile and she holds out her hand to shake his. She introduces herself, he introduces her, and they talk. Once she finishes her drink he offers to buy her another, and another, and another. As the night goes on, she asks if maybe he can walk her home, to which of course he accepts. When they get to her door she invites him in, but he declines.

“Oh pretty, I’d love to really.” He says with a smile as he puts a hand on her waist, “But you’re drunk, s’not right luv.”

He leans down and kisses her. Not the type of hot, lust filled kisses she’s usually used to receiving at men, or boys rather, at the end of the evening. But soft, passion filled, sweet kiss. He pulls back, and takes a small notebook from his back pocket, writing down his phone number on a page before ripping it off and giving it to her.

“Call me though, ya?” He says, giving her another kiss, this time on the cheek, before turning to leave.

-🫧

now this is what i’m talking about )): i need him so bad he’d take such good care of me and i would be the BEST little girlfriend)):

[pathologicalreid]

you can wait if you dont want to do another smut right now but id love a fic where spencer has been helping reader study for her finals and after last exam is over she thanks spencer for all his help if you know what i mean 😉 (this has been stuck in my head all day)

ofc he is like no!!! you dont have to thank me but obviously reader just wants to finally celebrate being done with finals with her mans

i liveeee for your fics! im so happy youre doing requests again!

earned it | S.R.

when you finish your college course work, you only have one person to thank - your tutor

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: oral sex (m receiving), borderline ass play, fingering, established relationship, mild manhandling, i think that's it. word count: 1.46k a/n: so this request is definitely from when i reopened my requests last but i wanted to let y'all know that I'm probably gonna close them again soon so like get ur requests in ahahaha thank you for requesting please don't worry if this is incoherent

“How do you feel?” Spencer asked over the phone.

Smiling into the receiver, you made your way up the steps to the second floor of his apartment building as you answered, “I feel liberated,” You answered, balancing your phone between your ear and shoulder so you could knock on his front door.

He cleared his throat over the phone, “Hold on, someone’s at the door,” he told you, moving to open the door. “Hey,” he said, obviously surprised to find you at the door, “I thought you needed to pick your parents up at the airport?”

You shrugged, ending your phone call and stepping inside his apartment, “Their flight was delayed, so I’m now free as a bird for the rest of the day.”

“Most people want to relax after finishing their final exams,” Spencer suggested, setting his phone down before reaching out to you, pulling you closer to him by your waist, “How do you think it went?”

Beaming up at him, you slung your arms around his neck before pressing a soft kiss to his lips, “I think I aced it, and it’s all thanks to my tutor.” Slowly, you ushered him in the direction of the couch, hoping to coax him to the supple leather.

Following your lead, your boyfriend hummed thoughtfully, “Well, as your tutor, I’m glad to hear that.”

With a careful touch, you settled your hands on his shoulders and pushed him down, “And now that I’m done, I figured it was time to return the favor.” You offered, settling yourself down on the couch next to him and smoothing out the skirt of your sundress.

“I’m not in classes anymore,” he reminded you confusedly, tilting his head to the side so that he was closer to you. That much you remembered, he finished his philosophy degree rather unceremoniously last year, not even willing to humor you by putting on a cap and gown.

You nodded, adjusting yourself so that you could lean over until he pulled you into his lap, one knee on either side of his hips. “Yes, but I needed to figure out some way to express my gratitude,” you said, cocking your head to the side as you gave him a knowing look.

Spencer raised his eyebrows at you, “I helped you study because I love you, not because I expected anything in return.” This, of course, you knew, Spencer was too much of a gentleman to outright accept your offer of sexual favors in exchange for your study sessions.

“No, I know, but I don’t believe in unpaid labor,” you informed him, intertwining your fingers at the back of his neck, catching some of the hair at the nape of his neck, forcing him to lean his head back. Taking the opportunity that had presented itself, you attached your lips to the side of his neck, placing gentle kisses as you felt his grip on your hips tighten. “I just finished school and maybe I want to celebrate a little,” you murmured against his skin, reaching your hand up and fiddling with the knot of his tie.

Another thing that you knew was that Spencer was too much of a man to turn down head, so you weren’t surprised when the next thing he said was, “Then let’s celebrate.”

Moving away from him slightly, you giggled, “You’re so easy to convince.”

He rolled his eyes in response, “And you’re so pretty,” he mumbled, dragging your lips down to his as you grinned, letting him touch you everywhere he wanted as you moved to palm his half-hard cock through his slacks.

Getting him hard was easy, you had been so stressed during finals that the two of you hadn’t done much more than make out, but now that all you had to do was cross the stage, you each had a lot of pent-up hormones that needed to be released. You tried to undo his belt without pulling away from him, but you eventually needed to see what you were doing, leading you to pull away before undoing the belt buckle.

Desperate for more contact, Spencer ducked his head and kissed your shoulder, leaving open-mouthed kisses around the thin strap of your dress as you continued undoing the button and zipper of his slacks with ease. You let out a soft moan in response to him moving to your neck, watching the way his cock twitched beneath his boxers.

You gently slipped your fingers under the elastic band, taking his entire length in your hand, just holding him caused his head to fall back and lift his hips from the couch to move his pants and underwear down, giving you more access. You crouched down on the couch, ducking your head so that you could press a gentle kiss to the tip of his cock, continuing your motions by pressing similar little kisses down the shaft until you hit the base.

Skimming your fingertips down his member, you smiled at the way his hips bucked off of the couch before wrapping your lips around him, taking him as far as you could without gagging and staying like that while Spencer gathered your hair at the nape of your neck and secured it with his fingers. You bobbed your head slightly, resting one hand on his hip and moving the other to hold his free hand before you lifted your head to swirl your tongue around his bulbous tip.

“You’re so good at this,” he murmured, his hand holding your hair gripping tighter as you bobbed your head again, “fuck, baby.”

Even as he let go of your hand, you continued bobbing your head even as you felt Spencer’s hand fiddling with the skirt of your dress, letting out a gentle moan when you realized what he was doing.

Spencer pulled your panties down your thighs by the gusset, giving him perfect access to your pussy as you kept your lips around his cock, “My pretty girl,” he praised while gently pressing his index finger at your entrance, circling the wet hole before pushing it in. Because of the angle you were at, he couldn’t get his fingers very deep, but it did enable him to press his thumb against your clit.

You moaned around his cock, the vibrations causing him to hiss and leading you to reach your newly freed hand to gently cup his balls, squeezing them as you bent your finger and pressed the knuckle to his taint, massaging the sensitive area that always made him finish.

He slipped another finger into your cunt easily as he released a shuddering breath, “I’m close,” he let you know, grip on your hair tightening as he did.

Humming, you just continued your ministrations until he let you know that he was going to come, the white, hot liquid spurting directly into your mouth while you continued to work him through his orgasm, your movements slowly coming to a halt so you didn’t overstimulate him.

Swallowing his cum, you released him from your mouth as he pulled his hand from your wet hole. Careful not to get anything on your dress, he maneuvered you so that you were facing him, his hooded eyes had a hint of determination as he pushed two digits into your pussy, you whimpered at the depth he got at this new angle.

You rocked your hips so that you were riding his hand, placing your hands on his shoulders for support while he used his thumb to stimulate your clit. “Spence,” you whined, breath hitching as he curled his fingers inside of you.

“What is it, baby?” He asked without pausing his movements.

Opening your mouth to respond, only a high-pitched noise came out in place of words, causing your head to fall forward onto his shoulder. “Come,” you mumbled.

Continuing to curl his fingers inside of you, he gently kissed your temple, “Come on my fingers, baby. You earned it. You can let go,” he encouraged.

You gasped as you did just that, feeling your walls clench around his fingers as he continued moving them, “Fuck, yes, thank you,” you babbled into the crook of his neck, lifting your head and looking him in the eyes.

His cheeks were flushed pink as he leaned in to press a kiss to your lips, instinctively, you pulled back.

“I have cum dribbling down my chin,” you explained to him when he frowned at the rejection.

Shaking his head, he leaned back in, “I really don’t care,” he said, kissing you chastely – as if to prove a point – and placing his hands on either side of your waist before settling you on his lap. “When does your parents’ rescheduled flight get in?”

You hummed contentedly, “Not until tonight.”

“Perfect,” he responded.

[bucketbueckers]

I'D RATHER PRETEND

CHAPTER TWO

tags: @angryflowerwitch @avvwritesstufff @melpthatsme @rebecca-woso @bueckersg1rl @l0verl4ne @clouded-whispers @dolliest-thena @katemartinlvr @numberonepartyanth3m @glamourdaya | lmk if you want to be added! wc: 7.6k notes: check masterlist for content warnings! honestly a pretty lowkey chap but it's strictly business 🧐 thank you for the love on chapter 1 🫶 i fear this chap and the next couple of parts are slow-ish but i've reread this literally a million times and im sick of it so what do i actually know. no beta we die like brian thompson

'Bueckers and Kennedy, Two Dynasties, Both Alike in Dignity'

College basketball fans are excited for what appears to be the end of the "Tess Kennedy Destruction Tour." After a quiet few days, the South Carolinian guard took to social media where she shared a photo of her and a faceless individual meeting for coffee. The Instagram story was captioned "and a new day will bring about the dawn," a lyric from Frank Ocean's "Sierra Leone." Supporters interpreted this as Kennedy's recovery journey taking a positive turn, but the song lyric was not the star of the show.

Fans were quick to point out the identity of the individual was not as hidden as it seemed. Kennedy's companion was wearing two notable necklaces - one with a silver cross and one with a studded #5. The phone case in camera was also purple with a wallet attached to the back. One commenter pointed out there was a University of Connecticut student ID poking out, and after review, we believe that much is true.

Early speculation declared Kennedy's friend was none other than Paige Bueckers, the star point guard for the University of Connecticut Huskies. Then, roughly an hour after Kennedy's post, Bueckers herself took to her Instagram where she shared a photo of her holding an icepack to someone's left knee. Both Bueckers and the mystery individual are faceless; however, fans noted Bueckers's companion was wearing a silver bracelet with familiar charms and a #25, Kennedy's jersey number.

All of the signs point to Bueckers and Kennedy spending time together, although nothing has been confirmed officially. One fan noted that Bueckers tore her own ACL the year prior, believing that Bueckers flew out to South Carolina to lend a supportive hand to Kennedy amidst her own recovery and hardships. Whether or not this is simply two friends rehabbing together or the most obvious soft launch in basketball history, sports fans are united on two things: Tess Kennedy is beginning to take her recovery seriously, and Paige Bueckers might just be the guardian angel people were calling for.

-Penelope Lancaster, Bleacher Report

MAY 3, 2023

“So, lemme get this straight.”

Tess hums around a mouthful of Chipotle, feeling lighter than she has in weeks. Kamilla and Bree returned to their apartment roughly a half hour earlier and immediately put Tess on the hot seat. Once she made it through her countless apologies and explanations with minimal interruptions, she gave Kam and Bree the green light to ask their questions, and it seemed as though they had plenty.

Kam raises her fingers as she lists off the recent happenings of Tess’s life. “Because you went off a bender–” Tess frowns at the way it’s phrased, “–Amaya is forcing you into mandatory PT, therapy, and a shit ton of PR. Honestly, about fucking time.” Bree snorts, although some of the worry leaves her body. “If all it took was tough love, I woulda been meaner to your ass a month ago.”

“Don’t think it would have had the intended effect,” Tess concedes thoughtfully. She pushes around her rice and chicken, shoveling a pepper in her mouth. “I wasn’t really in a listening mood back then.”

Bree raises a brow. “And you were today?”

The injured guard shrugs a shoulder. “Well, when your manager tells you that your brand deals are about to cut their contracts, and you’re at risk for losing your basketball scholarship for behavior and academic reasons, and you’re slowly killing yourself…that kind of puts things into perspective.”

Kamilla nods solemnly. “And the Paige situation.”

Tess almost flushes under their scrutinizing gaze. She hasn’t forgotten. She has Paige’s receipt tucked into the pocket of her pants, unwilling to throw it away but also feeling weirdly vulnerable for wanting to keep it. It wasn’t a huge gesture by any means. Paige doing PT with her was objectively more intimate than buying her lunch, but the mere idea of Paige saying goodbye to her and sitting in an Uber trying to figure out what Tess likes in her Chipotle bowl is just fucking insane. “Guess I’m not single anymore…so, yay?”

“You’re taking this a lot better than I expected,” Kamilla admits hesitantly. Tess clocks the concern in her expression, like she’s thinking about her next step if she wakes up tomorrow and Tess is back to her old ways. That thought alone makes guilt squeeze at Tess’s heart.

Tess sighs. “It was like a wake up call,” she says after a moment. “Like those stupid ice baths Coach makes us do in recovery.” Kamilla and Bree crack a small smile at the joke. “To me, it was just easier to self-destruct than to let something else kill me. Basketball’s more than a sport to me – it’s my purpose, right? So after I heard I might not be able to play again, I just…let myself sink. And, Christ, people were so cruel online.” Tess huffs out something like a laugh, her throat tight with pain. “It’s funny ‘cause it never bothered me before, but… I just wanted to forget. I wanted them to hurt like I hurt. It was too easy to give into that.” The silence rings out in the living room as Tess searches for her next words. “I don’t think all hope is lost. Today helped me understand that a little better. So, I’m gonna try. I’m just fucking terrified it’s all going to be for nothing, that my knee’s never going to get better and I’m going to put myself through so much pain for a what if.”

“Okay, what if you never play again, but, God, Tess, what if you do?” Kamilla says slowly. “What if you do everything right and you get better and you can play with us again in March? I want that for you. We want that for you. Do you want that for you?”

“I mean, of course–”

“Then do it!” Kamilla exclaims, voice cracking. Tess blinks at her owlishly. She’s never seen Kamilla like this, ever, wide-eyed and desperate. It’s a near 180 shift from the girl she’s spent the last 30 minutes talking to, a complete and total shift from the girl who she’s shared an apartment with for two years. “Please, Tess. Do the PT, your therapy, get back on track; whatever it fucking takes, Tess, you need to do it. We miss you. On and off the court. I know it’s not about me, but watching you throw yourself away like that was the worst thing I’d ever witnessed, especially because no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get through to you. I thought I was going to lose my best friend!”

Tess’s jaw falls open as the sudden realization of how badly she’s fucked up dawns on her for the second time that day. “Kam,” she tries, her throat tightening with emotion. The taller woman wipes her eyes, taking in a shuddering breath. Kamilla was never one to be mean, no matter how upset she was – that was a trait of hers that made her such a good leader and role model on the court. She was big on accountability and ensuring that past mistakes would never happen again. Seeing all of the emotion she kept under tight lock and key because she knew she needed to be strong for Tess (even before Tess was aware that she needed someone to be strong for her) is unbelievably sobering.

When Tess and Kamilla first met, they almost instantly knew they would be each other’s best friend. They were alike in so many ways – they were fierce competitors and proud haters of The Office; they bonded over shared struggles of not quite knowing what home was and being just a little too different from everyone else. Tess isn’t sure where she would be without Kamilla. She always prayed she’d never have to find out, but the idea that she nearly subjected Kamilla to finding out where she’d be without Tess feels both arduous and damning.

“Kam,” Tess says again, her mind reeling. “I’m so sorry – I’m so fucking sorry. If I could do it all over again, I would. I’m trying. It’s so hard but I’m trying.”

“I know,” Kamilla says, nodding rapidly. Bree is unnaturally quiet, glancing between the two of them with a conflicted expression. Sure, the three of them shared an apartment, but the bond between Tess and Kamilla exceeded friendship; they were like sisters. Bree knew that and it never bothered her. Now it seems as though she’s unsure where to stand, but she understands that this is a much-needed conversation that Tess and Kamilla need to have. “I know, Tess, I’m just – I’m glad you understand it now. Just… please, please let us help you. Don’t shut us out.”

“I won’t,” Tess vows. “I can’t promise I’m going to be at 100%, but fuck, I’m going to try.”

“That’s good enough for me,” Kamilla concedes.

The living room is quiet for a long while until Bree shifts uncomfortably. “So… PT and mental health counseling, those I understand,” she says. “I’m still a little lost on why fake dating Paige is good for your reputation. Rumors are rumors but…it’s giving new flavor of the week.”

“It’s not like that,” Tess argues, a little too defensively. Bree raises a brow and Tess immediately flushes. She’s not sure why that jab at Paige felt personal. She made a similar jab only a few hours ago. But it wasn’t her business to judge. People have their own reasons to do what they do, right? “Well, she said it wasn’t like that,” she amends, which sounds objectively worse. Tess frowns, wishing she’d just kept quiet.

“Hey, I’m just saying.” Bree raises her hand in surrender. “It’s her vice, right? Her free time is her own, but I mean, she’s Paige Bueckers. It’s easy to get caught up in her. I just don’t want you becoming another notch on her bedpost, even if you’re just fake dating her to make people forget you’re on Twitter restriction.”

Tess wrinkles her nose. “My account is unbanned now, thank you very much,” she deflects, but Kamilla’s knowing expression has her redirecting. “I understand what you guys mean, but you don’t have to worry about that. We’re strictly business.” Bree grins wryly, huffing out something akin to laughter that sounds vaguely like, ‘that’s what they all say.’

“Was the Chipotle strictly business?” Bree asks.

Tess’s face is a perfect picture of confusion, but her heart thrums a little faster at the insinuation. What could she possibly know about that? “What does Chipotle have to do with anything?” she asks casually.

Bree’s smirk widens. “You never order bowls. It’s always a burrito with you.”

“I’m trying something new!”

“Yeah, new like a six-foot blonde hooper–”

Kamilla and Bree break out into howling laughter as Tess buries her head in her hands, blushing again. “Oh, my God. You guys are the fucking worst.”

And, sure – the joke is at Tess’s expense, but she can’t help but feel like everything is aligning once more, that they’re returning to the way they once were pre-injury. She expected that it would have taken her a lot more groveling to earn back their favor. Tess was a huge jerk to them – the more she thinks about what she’d likely said to them under the haze of several shots of tequila, the more she wishes she could take it all back and do it over again. She tore her ACL, a season ending injury for many athletes, and for a smaller few, it changed the course of their careers drastically. Tess wants to find it within herself to have some grace, to understand why she behaved the way she did, but now that she sees it with a clearer mind, she can’t help but be disgusted by herself.

For Kamilla and Bree, it’s probably all water under the bridge. They’re kind people like that, perhaps too kind after the way Tess treated them. Maybe the real gotcha! moment is the idea that Tess didn’t need to earn back their favor, anyhow. Sometimes friendship just works like that – it’s confusing and a great risk, but most times that risk pays off. Sometimes friendship just is, accepting a mistake and trusting that it wouldn’t happen again.

Feeling lighter than she has in weeks, Tess retires to her room for some much needed rest after a long day. She lights a candle, settling against her headboard and adjusting the pillow cushioning her knee. Deciding to face the music sooner rather than later, she begins combing through her mountain of notifications and unread DMs. The apology from Caitlin is touching. Tess feels an odd mix of guilt and appreciation as she drafts out her overdue response: “thank you for checking in, been a rough couple weeks. the injury is not your fault but trust that SC will pick your pockets next year!!!” Caitlin’s own response is swift – a simple 'Bring it on' that Tess can’t help but smile at.

She sends similar responses to some of Caitlin’s teammates and the other college players who reached out. She even had a couple of pros expressing their condolences, which honestly shocked Tess. There was Napheesa Collier, Sabrina Ionescu, and A’ja Wilson – A’ja’s DM made Tess’s Gamecock heart beat just a little faster. She was basically South Carolina royalty. Having that kind of support in her corner fills her with an insurmountable confidence.

Her last post on Instagram was a collection of pictures following their Elite Eight win. The sight of herself from a month ago, healthy and glowing, nearly made her thumb falter as she flicked through the images. It was a simple dump – a couple of action shots, a fierce one of Tess celebrating, one of her setting up for a deep three. It was captioned “nowhere else i’d rather be.” That much was still true. She’s pushed it to the recesses of her mind, but instinctually, she can feel the deep ache and the yearn to get back on the court, even though her knee hardly lets her sleep through the night most of the time.

Her eyes fall to the comments. She knows she shouldn’t look at them. She’s practically memorized each and every single one of them. Her teammates’ comments live at the top, celebrating the win with her; under them, there are newer ones from South Carolina fans, offering prayers and support, confident in their belief that Tess will bounce back from this. She can’t help herself from reading the hate comments, either. Her eyes catch on one in particular. Their username isn’t particularly memorable, but it reads, ‘Upsetting to see how Tess has responded to a normal injury for athletes. It’s shameful that South Carolina has let this go on for so long. Grow up!’ 

Well, he’s not wrong. Tess’s response was a pretty terrible one and Amaya herself admitted that they made a mistake in handling the situation. Frankly, he should be proud that Tess has grown up! If she read that comment a week ago, she probably would have crashed out. The thought alone makes Tess crack the slightest of smiles. Before she can keep reading, a text message from an unknown number pops up at the top of her screen, inadvertently saving her from a doom scroll.

Yo How’d I do on lunch? It’s Paige btw

Tess fights the warmth she feels in her chest. Honestly, she would have guessed that it was Paige from the ego she can identify through the screen alone, but she saves her contact regardless.

i’m afraid to admit i prefer burritos but the bowl was a 9/10

Paige’s response is swift.

9 cause I’m the 1 you need?

Tess rolls her eyes.

9 bc there was too much pico and bc the girl who ordered it flirts like a 12 year old

That’s insane You KNOW I have better game than that

you have no rizz, just blue eyes and a bunch of nil money like joe burrow if he was a hey mamas lesbian

Gonna ignore that hey mamas comment just cause I fuck with Joe Burrow The Bengals don’t have nothing on my Vikings though

i think i just got the ick im not gonna lie

Are you a football hater???

i don’t watch men’s sports at all i try to protect my peace

Pause So no Lebron???

ok well obviously i’ve watched the NBA

You scared me Don’t say that shit again

why are you so high maintenance

Why are you so mean

someone has to keep you in check settling down, remember?

I think you could be a little nicer!

hmmm i’ll consider ok i decided no

Just plain evil

i need to get my kicks in early if im stuck with you again on friday

You invited me???

i don’t think that’s how that happened

Pretty sure that’s exactly how that happened Paige please come to PT with me 🥺 Please Paige

ok now you’re just being delusional i see how you’re forgetting the whole ‘tess let me buy your coffee 🥺please tess’

Chilllll Did your doctor check you for a concussion after the ACL?? There’s something wrong with your brain

be honest, are you a natural blonde or did you work really hard to be this stupid

Hard work always baby Also, wanted to ask if you wanna come to the airport with me on Saturday, be seen together I fly out at 11:30am so I think it would be good for us The story I mean

you gonna pay for my uber back?

Duh

paige i was kidding

I wasn’t No rizz, just blue eyes and a lot of NIL money, right?

you’re insufferable

So you’ll come?

don’t sound so excited but i will for the story

Of course See you Friday ma 🫶

Tess likes Paige’s message before shutting her phone off with a sigh. She needs a nap.

MAY 5, 2023

Friday arrives after a day and a half of binging 2 Broke Girls, independent physical therapy exercises, and lots of ice packs.

Tess slept like shit Thursday night, though she’s unsure if it’s because of the pain in her knee or because of how badly she wanted to haul her ass to the bar and order a couple of shots to numb the throb. She knew she couldn’t do it, no matter how much she thought she needed it – it was bad enough that she spent half of the night sweating through her shirt and chewing on ice cubes to distract herself from the slow downward spiral of her thoughts. Not addicted, she’d remind herself, nursing a cup with rapidly melting ice as she watched Max and Caroline put themselves in weird ass situations. Psychologically, no. Physically…who knows. Tess certainly doesn’t know what that means, but she’s not addicted, period.

Her first therapy appointment was scheduled for Monday afternoon. She just had to hold out until then. Tess hopes that she would glean something useful from her counselor, but she’s been self aware and independent enough for years that she’s usually good at identifying her problems, though slightly less efficient at figuring out what to do about them. Her typical coping methods included a casual mantra of, ‘Pitbull’s been there, done that,’ and running a couple of drills in the quiet of the gym. And, sure – it sounds weird, but the idea that she’s not the only person facing an issue is comforting enough that she wonders if it’s even that deep. It works most of the time and she’s able to shrug it off. She will admit there’s an eventual crash out one way or the other, but she prefers one big explosion over a series of small, ill-timed ones.

With nothing but time on Thursday night, her Google search history consisted of queries such as how long does it take to establish alcohol dependence and symptoms of alcohol withdrawals. Then, around 3am, she got distracted and switched over to TikTok where she scrolled through edits of herself, but that’s less important. She learned that establishing alcohol dependence usually varies from person to person (Tess hates when something ‘depends;’ why can’t there ever be a straight answer?). It’s less clear if she’s officially ‘addicted,’ but she will concede that after a month of heavy drinking, there’s a little something there. Which isn’t ideal, of course, but hopefully it’s mild at the least. It was only a month and people intervened early…ish – maybe if she sticks to recovery then she should be good and clear within a couple weeks at the most.

Google also informed her of the several symptoms of withdrawals, which usually set in anywhere from six to twenty-four hours after going cold-turkey on the drinks. The withdrawals explained, obviously, the need to ransack the liquor store, but also the restlessness, the slight headache she was nursing for the past twenty-four hours, and the perpetual stomach ache she couldn’t seem to get rid of.

She had some answers. So, things were looking up!

…At least they were until she got the call from Amaya at 9:30 as she was struggling to eat a bagel. Google also mentioned a loss of appetite, which Tess was less than happy about. Much like everything else about her recovery, she would have to force herself into doing a lot of things that her body didn’t want her to do. She’d get used to it. She lets her phone ring for a short moment before she sighs, accepting the call and putting it on speaker, greeting Amaya.

“Good morning, Tess!” Amaya chirps, unusually chipper. The basketball player immediately frowns, brows furrowing.

“You get laid?” she asks, unsure of what else Amaya could be happy about in her life.

She can almost hear Amaya’s eye roll from across the line. “No, not that it’s any of your business, though.”

“Boo.”

“Anyways, back to business.” Amaya clears her throat. Tess can hear the slight shuffle of papers. “So, I really liked what you and Paige did, soft-launch wise. The press is eating it up and so far, both of your brand deals are seeing a slight surge in activity. I’m guessing people are flocking to your accounts for raunchy details and seeing you advertise, um, really cool make up products and homework help.” Tess huffs out a laugh at that. “Good job. Also, Craig let me know you showed up to PT as scheduled on Wednesday and did really well. He said you and Paige worked really well together–”

“Stop,” Tess says, listening to the sound of Amaya’s smug laugh. “Don’t insinuate anything.”

“I’m not insinuating anything!” Amaya says defensively and Tess cracks a smile. “So, we just need you and Paige to keep up what you’re doing. Do the small things for a couple of weeks, then hard-launch. We’re going to give you guys most of the control over that. We want it to seem more authentic and less like two PR agencies trying to salvage their clients’ images.”

“Of course,” Tess says innocently. “She’s coming to PT today. Then I’m going with her to the airport tomorrow.”

Amaya sighs dreamily. “You’re such a wonder to work with when you’re being cooperative.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Tess grumbles, giving up on the bagel and tossing it in the trash.

“Alright, one more thing,” Amaya continues, “then I’ll let you go.” Tess hums. “I need you to draft an apology to post on your socials – and I know, it sounds corny, but–”

“You don’t need to explain why,” Tess interrupts softly. “I got it. I fucked up and I made a huge mess. I’ll email that to you Saturday night.”

Amaya is quiet for a moment, contemplative. “Thank you, Tess. And, hey, how are you feeling?”

Tess doesn’t answer for a beat, considering keeping her thoughts to herself, but she reminds her promise to Kamilla to not shut anyone out, so she sighs. “Um, not gonna lie, I didn’t sleep at all last night,” she admits. “My knee hurt and I really wanted to drink – but I didn’t! I binge watched TV and ate ice cubes. Probably not the best thing I could have done but it was all I had to work with.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Amaya says gently. “It’s gonna be hard for a while, especially when your injury is still new and fresh and you’re all over the place mentally. I’m proud of how you handled it, even if you think you could have done better. Don’t forget you can call that counselor, okay? She’s available at all hours for you.”

“I don’t wanna be a bother–”

“It’s her job,” Amaya states, before adding in a more mother-hen tone, “but she also requested to work with you specifically because this issue is close to her and she really wants to help you. So if you need help, call her. Got it?”

Tess blinks back the impending tears. “Yeah. Got it.”

“Listen, I’m proud of you, I mean it,” Amaya reiterates. “Thank you for being patient and doing this. I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

“Yeah,” Tess says again. “Talk to you soon.”

Amaya hangs up with one final goodbye. Tess presses her head to the cool counter tile and takes a deep breath. She hardly has the time to think before a knock sounds at the apartment door. Already knowing it was Paige, Tess wipes her eyes and slips her crutches under her arms as she slinks towards the door and opens it.

“Mornin!’” Paige greets, far too cheery for barely ten in the morning. She’s holding two cups of coffee in her hands. When Tess glances down, she easily recognizes her coffee order. Then, a frown covers Paige’s face as she walks in and shuts the door behind her. “You good, ma?”

“Just a tough conversation with Amaya,” Tess says as Paige hands her the drink. She takes a long sip, feeling a little more regulated. “Too many feelings.”

Paige smirks at her. “I’m guessin’ she said the same shit my manager called for? ‘Keep up the good work and keep doing couple-y stuff?’”

Tess hums. “More or less. Oh, I also get to publicly apologize, so there’s that.”

The blonde raises a brow as Tess hands back the coffee cup so she can slip into her shoes. “You? Apologize?”

Tess swats her with her crutch, drawing laughter from Paige. “You’re such a jerk. I apologized to you on Wednesday!”

“Yeah, ‘cause you called me a whore,” Paige says with a dramatic pout. “Really hurt my women-respecting feelings.”

“Please walk me to PT and stop talking.”

And Paige does just that. She holds onto both of their coffees as they walk as Tess’s hands are otherwise preoccupied with her crutches. The silence doesn’t last too long before Paige is rambling about all of the questioning she’s getting from her teammates, and Tess can’t help but listen – correction, she has no other choice but to. Paige admits that she doesn’t like keeping secrets from her team, and Tess feels sympathetic enough that she gives Paige the go-ahead to confess their little ruse. Paige’s denial, however, is shockingly mature. “I trust them not to say sum’ maliciously, right? But you never know who’s listening.”

Tess shrugs a shoulder. “If you change your mind, go for it, okay?” she says. “This is our punishment. Don’t wanna fuck up your friendships.”

“S’all good,” Paige says. “Actually, they’re pretty happy about it. Aubrey thinks I’ll play better next season since I ‘got a girl.’”

Tess snorts. “Yeah, you’ll play better until March, then I’ll get cleared to be back on the court and I’ll drop 25 on you.”

Paige wrinkles her nose. “No way, ma. Try 2-point-5. As in 2.5 turnovers every time I guard you.”

Their banter continues until they reach the PT’s office. Craig greets them with an infectious grin and Tess immediately brightens. He helps her take the brace off of her leg and rolls up her pant leg, poking and prodding at her injury. After just a day and a half of actual care, much of the inflammation has reduced.

Craig walks her through some guided exercises, and much to Tess’s silent appreciation, Paige joins them, too. She has a charming smile on her face the entire time, tacking on ridiculous jokes at the absolute worst moments when Tess is out of breath from the stretch and when laughing feels like gasping for air. Paige is strangely helpful. She boosts both Tess’s morale, comforting her in the fact she’s not doing this alone, but she also has a plethora of tips on how to manage the pain and get a better stretch on the exercises. Her hands are warm on Tess’s knee when she adjusts her leg and the way it bends. Craig looks on with an approving nod, though he jokes that Paige is coming for his job, to which Paige huffs, “Tess don’t listen to me.” Tess can only roll her eyes at that, pretending like she doesn’t care about the way Paige’s hands massage the tension out of her leg.

When Craig steps out to grab his wrapping supplies, Paige stretches out her legs and reaches for her phone. “For the gram?” she asks easily, glancing at Tess for permission.

“Don’t call it that,” she grumbles, but nods anyway and pulls out her own phone. “You sound like an old person.”

“You sound like an old person,” Paige mocks, effectively lowering her age by a solid ten years, and Tess rolls her eyes in amusement. She slides a little closer to Tess, reaching for her left leg and draping it over her right one gently, locking their ankles together. “Good?” Tess hums, looking over Paige’s shoulder and throwing a thumbs up into view of the camera. “You’re so unoriginal,” Paige says, but she sticks her free hand in frame and presses her middle and ring fingers to her thumb, raising her index and pinky in the Husky salute.

“That’s basically a hard launch,” Tess says, though she doesn’t really care.

“Everything we do is a hard launch,” Paige retorts. “We got Instagram detectives, remember?”

Tess mulls it over for a second before turning to Paige with a mischievous grin. “You wanna break the internet?”

“Oh, now we’re talking.”

Paige posts her picture to her story, forgoing any sort of caption, and silences her phone. She gives Tess her undivided attention as she plots. Tess pulls Paige closer into her space, hooking her chin over her right shoulder and leaning against her. Setting up her phone at the right angle, she says, “Look to your left,” and Paige does so until her piercings, half of her low bun, and the slight curve of her jaw are the only things in frame. The lights glint off of the diamond studs in her ears – Tess has to resist a smirk at how obvious the picture is, but she quickly controls her expression, her lips drawing into a natural pout as she takes the photo.

“Got it?” Paige asks, tilting her head to look at the photo. A smile covers her face as she takes it in. “Tess, you’re evil. Everyone is gonna flip.”

“My notifications are going to explode,” she says forlornly. “This is the price I pay to be mysterious and sexy.”

“Mysterious, nah,” Paige says. Her eyes linger on Tess’s face for a moment before she breaks out into a grin. “Sexy…? Hell nah.”

Indignant, Tess pushes her away, sending Paige sprawling to the floor dramatically. “Asshole! What happened to those ‘women-respecting feelings?’”

“You just pushed me to the ground!” Paige cries. “Where are your women-respecting feelings?”

Craig walks in just then, his face morphing into amused confusion as he looks between the two of them, wrapping supplies in hand. “Am I interrupting something?” he jokes.

Tess tries to keep the blush off of her cheeks. “Paige is just being mean to me,” she declares. “Poor Tess Kennedy whose left knee doesn’t even work.”

“Bro!” Paige’s tone is exasperated, and it brings a smile to Tess’s face. “You’re full of sh–” Paige cuts herself off with a cough. “...Sharks. Full of sharks.”

Craig chuckles as he examines Tess’s knee one last time before nodding and beginning to wrap it. “Same stuff, okay? Ice it when you do independent exercise, keep using your crutches, absolutely nothing strenuous.”

Tess nods, thanking Craig and heading out with Paige at her side. Even though the PT combined with her lack of sleep the night before has left her exhausted, Tess is in a significantly better mood than she started the day with. It’s likely too early into her recovery to feel any sort of earth-shattering hope, but she can’t help but feel like she’s doing it. She has yet to attend her first therapy appointment and the light at the end of the tunnel is still ten months away, but it feels like she’s making it out alive. And for now, that’s good enough for her.

MAY 6, 2023

Sleep comes easier to her Friday night. The cravings returned in full force as she was getting ready for bed, but Tess was exhausted – she took a melatonin gummy and passed out, although her knee woke her up a time or two. She felt well-rested for the first time in a couple of days. The drinking numbed her enough that she was able to sleep, but the abrupt cut-off has her body in disarray. It’s a double-edged sword. Her body craves it, but every time she thinks about a drink, she’s so disgusted at the thought that she can nearly taste the bile in her mouth. While it makes the cravings subside for a moment, they always return. She takes Tylenol in the morning to ward off the impeding headache and chugs a cup and a half of water, feeling as though she needs to flush all the bullshit out of her body.

Kamilla and Bree are up early and the three of them mill about the kitchen as they prepare a light breakfast. It was a Saturday morning tradition for them, usually consisting of pancakes, bacon, and eggs and a lengthy conversation about their weeks or anything in general. They’ve missed out on it for the past month for…obvious reasons that Tess already nurses a lot of guilt over, but she’s keen on making up for lost time. Kam and Bree put her on bacon duty as it’s the least strenuous. She portions the meat in the pan and slides it into the oven as Kam and Bree bicker over their shared stovetop space.

It’s grounding. Tess contributes where she can, enjoying the peace of the moment and laughing along with her teammates when they say something stupid. It nearly makes her forget about her knee, about the guilt she’s working through as she continues to make amends. Part of her wonders why she’d ever resorted to shutting everyone out and losing herself when all she really needed was to just let them in. She watches Kam shout in indignation as Bree jokingly flicks a bit of pepper into her pancake batter, and all Tess can think about is how could she ever hurt those girls. She remembers her promise. Tess has let too many terrible things become a habit, but she refuses to let mistreating her friends be a continued one.

They all sit to eat and the chatter only stops long enough to pass around their bottle of maple syrup and the butter. Kam and Bree ask how PT’s been going, and Tess is honest when she answers. She’s only two days into it and more often than not, it hurts – but she knows it’s for the better. She doesn’t voice the worry that she might stop taking it as seriously once Paige is back in Connecticut. Tess was only partially joking when she told Craig she had an enforcer. Paige holds her accountable in a way she’s been trying to force herself into doing, but her mind is still such a mess that it’s difficult and all she wants to do is mope in bed all day. She knows Kam and Bree wouldn’t let her live that down and she doesn’t want them to feel like she still needs a babysitter.

They tell her that they're proud of her, and Tess feels the tears well up as she tells them to shut up.

“She’s so back,” Kamilla cheers, high-fiving Bree. “Our little ball of sunshine.” Tess can only roll her eyes.

Breakfast ends and Kam and Bree ensure that they’ve got the dishes. The clock on the stove reads 10:30. Tess knows that Paige is likely on her way. She hugs them both, promising to be back once she’s seen her off, and slips into her shoes just as a knock rings out at the door.

Paige’s brows draw into a dramatic furrow once they come face to face. “Damn, you opened this door mad quick,” she says. “Tryna get rid of me that fast?”

Tess cracks a smile, shutting the door behind them with the leg of her crutch. “The sooner you’re out of South Carolina, the better.” They walk down the hallway.

Paige sighs as she punches the elevator button for the lobby. “You’ll miss me,” she says, assured. “You’re gonna miss me bringin’ you coffee, DoorDashing you Chipotle, and making sure you don’t re-tear your ACL.”

“On the contrary…I’ll enjoy the peace and quiet.” Paige shoots her a dirty look and Tess can’t help but laugh.

Paige escorts her to the Uber she has waiting for them. She holds onto Tess’s crutches as she helps her into the passenger side backseat, laying her leg flat against the leather. Her foot nearly brushes the door. Confused and wondering what Paige is doing, the blonde shuts the door and rounds the side. As she settles in, she drapes Tess’s leg over her lap. “You good?”

Mouth dry, all Tess can do is nod, and Paige leans forward enough to instruct their Uber driver to head to the airport. Her palm falls flat on Tess’s shin, her thumb brushing against her leg, and with the way Paige stares out of the window, it’s almost like she doesn’t even register what she’s doing. Their ride is quiet, save for the driver's soft R&B that Paige bobs her head to. Tess slips her phone out of her pocket and snags a quick photo, flipping her phone screen to show her. Paige smiles at her wordlessly, knowing they shouldn’t verbally scheme in front of the driver, and Tess posts the photo to her story.

She refreshes her feed, combing through all of the shit she’s been tagged in from various college basketball update accounts and Instagram sleuths. She and Paige are the face of a new account named taigeupdates – which Tess is assuming is supposed to be their ship name? Given that the alternative is Pess – not that Tess has given it any thought, because she hasn’t! – she could live with it. The admin already has Tess’s story reposted and the comments are flooding in with many begging for an official hard launch since it’s already obvious.

Their driver parks in the designated drop off lane and Paige helps Tess out of the backseat, ensuring she’s stable on her crutches before she’s looping around to the trunk and pulling her carry-on and suitcase out. Tess can already feel the eyes on them, the hushed whispers of, “Is that Paige Bueckers and Tess Kennedy?” And despite years in the spotlight, she can’t help the anxious flush that creeps up on her neck. Having so many eyes on her makes her feel vulnerable enough, but combined with the fact she has a huge brace on her leg and she’s walking around with crutches? She feels uncomfortable, like she’s a pacing animal behind bars in the zoo.

“Ready?” Paige murmurs, stepping up behind her, pressing her free hand to the palm of Tess’s back. The touch comforts her slightly, but only because she’s accustomed to Paige right now and because they’re in this together. Tess gives her a solid nod, tightening her hands around the bars of her crutches. The blonde moves her hand down to her hip to give her a reassuring squeeze before placing it at the center of her back. Paige leads them into the airport, though she leans down, her mouth close to Tess’s ear as she whispers. “We shoulda talked about this earlier, but…what’s on and off limits right now?”

Tess swallows, trying to ignore the nerves. “Just do whatever feels right,” she answers honestly. “The media knows we just spent three days together, right? Don’t overthink it. I’m your girlfriend sending you off at the airport. Make it look like that and not two strangers trying to look the part.”

Paige grins insufferably at her. “Aw, I think that’s the first time you claimed me,” she says. Tess rolls her eyes, tempted to swat her with her crutch, but decides against it. The last thing she needs is Paige tripping and fucking up her knee even more. “So…nothing's off limits?”

“You wanna kiss me so bad you look stupid,” Tess says, nudging Paige with her elbow. From the corner of her eye, she can see the phone camera pointed at them, so she swallows her pride and looks up to Paige with a grin. “I think we should hug for sure. Anything else is too soon...like I said, we've spent three days together. I don't U-Haul.”

“Fine by me,” Paige says, looking far too comfortable as she walks through the airport. “Don't wanna do nothing you're uncomfortable with. Even if it would break the Internet. I know you like that shit.” Tess shrugs, but she was pleased with the media’s reaction so far. Between the two of them, Paige was definitely the menace and chaos-monger, although Tess enjoyed setting a fire once in a while. They finally reach Paige’s terminal and she leaves Tess’s side long enough to check in at the counter.

While she’s gone, a teenage girl approaches Tess with a shy expression, phone clutched in hand. “Excuse me, are you Tess Kennedy?” she asks.

“Guilty,” Tess jokes, leaning on her healthy leg.

“Do you mind if I get a picture?”

Tess shakes her head, saying, “Not at all,” as she moves to stand next to the girl. She angles the phone and Tess throws up a peace sign, grinning, and she snaps the photo. Before either of them can say anything else, Paige is walking back from the check in counter and the girl looks like she’s about to start doing cartwheels.

“Is that–”

“Unfortunately,” Tess sighs, which makes the girl laugh and Paige narrows her eyes. Remembering where they are, Tess smiles innocently.

“Can I get another picture with the both of you?”

Paige and Tess can’t resist. Paige rarely turns down her supporters in the first place, and all Tess can think about when she’s in these situations is all the times she’s ever met her idols and how it changed her life. Being in a situation to give back to the youth like that is one of the best parts about playing basketball. They pose on either side of the teenager as she takes the photo, and after quick hugs and a lot of gratitude, Paige and Tess are left alone.

Tess checks the time, realizing that Paige is boarding soon. The overhead PA confirms as much and Paige glances at Tess once more, hiking her carry-on bag higher on her shoulder. “You gonna miss me?” she asks teasingly, and Tess taps her chin, thinking.

“Hmm,” she ponders. “Not one bit.”

“You will,” Paige says confidently. “I got motion like that.” Tess rolls her eyes, unable to curb the warm fondness in her chest. She just pretends like it doesn’t exist. “Make sure you eat, alright? And go to PT. And be real with your therapist. Lemme hear you’re bein’ irresponsible and I’ll fly back down to set you straight.”

“Yes, Paige. Anything else?”

Paige shrugs, an easy smile on her face. “I know you pretend like you’ont like me, but I had fun with you. Even when you were mean.”

“Not mean,” Tess argues weakly. She can’t hide how touched she is by Paige’s words. “Just trying to keep your ego at a reasonable level.”

“Whatever you say, ma,” the blonde concedes. She opens her arms and Tess forgets all about the media, their story, whatever it is they’re supposed to be pretending to do as she wraps her arms around Paige’s waist. She could care less about the cameras, about the social media explosion they’re undoubtedly causing. Paige’s hands are warm on her back and her perfume makes Tess’s head spin. “Gimme a call if you need anything, I mean it. Don’t try to do this by yourself. Promise me.”

“Promise,” Tess vows. Paige pulls back ever so slightly, her eyes studying Tess’s face as her hands slide down her back, resting on her hips. Paige smiles at her and gives her a gentle squeeze before pulling away completely. She and Paige are both flushed, though the red creeping up Tess’s neck feels strangely like embarrassment.

“Call you when I land?” she asks quietly. Tess nods, forcing a smile, and they share their final goodbyes before Paige walks away.

Tess watches as she goes, suddenly hyper aware of the cameras and the crowd, and she holds back a sigh. She needs to get it together. None of that was real. She’s just a mess emotionally, touch-starved after a month-long crash out, and she’s letting it get to her head. She’ll feel more regulated after a nap and some stretches.

Hopefully.

[numinousher]

SHAKESPEARE WOULDN’T 𓇢𓆸 jungkook.

summary: jungkook falls in love with a girl in a club, not knowing it was secretly his best friend. though, he comes to confuse her with her own best friend and falls for the wrong person.

pairing: best friend!jungkook x f!reader

genre: best friends to lovers, angst to fluff, misunderstanding

word count: 14k

note: just watched 3d again and those outfits? ideas

“I love you so much, hun.”

You pushed Jungkook away rather playfully, rolling your eyes at his words. “Shut up.” At hearing you dragging out your words, Jungkook laughed a bit. “I just got you that smoothie you’ve been craving, calm down.”

“Can’t I appreciate you?” Jungkook questioned, raising an eyebrow your way as he took a sip of his drink and continued taking silly pictures of you in 0.5. You mentally cursed yourself for showing him that angle and dismissed his comment off with a wave of your hand. You snatched his phone away from his hands. It's your turn to take those silly pictures of him now. “Also, are you going to want me to pick you and the girls up?”

“If you want,” you simply answer with a small smile etched on your face. You sit down beside him on the couch of his apartment and hear him huff. “Though, we were going to leave together so don’t worry about it.”

“Of course I worry, that’s why I’m offering to pick you up,” he chuckled. He continued sipping on his smoothie, glancing between you and the movie playing in the background before passing you the drink. “You know I don’t like it when your friends make you drive when you drink.” He frowned, a scoff escaping his lips as he recounted how one of your friends acted when she was drunk. “I hate it even more when they’ve drunk and they drive you. It’s not safe for them. Not safe for you.”

You ignored the way your heart fluttered at his comment and patted his arm, the one littered with ink and fully exposed since he’s wearing a tight gym shirt. After all, he had asked you if you wanted to come over after his gym workout session and after he took a shower, leaving you waiting impatiently until he texted he was done. When you questioned the choice of clothing, he simply told you he loved wearing those type of shirts since they were comfortable.

“If it makes you feel better,” you started, picking on your nails as you gave him back his drink after taking a few sips, “we’ll order an Uber or something.”

“Or something.” He scoffed, muttering the same words you used as if not believing that you had the nerve to say those to him. He did not play around with your safety and you knew that. “I’ll pick you guys up.”

“If you’re not busy.” You smiled, your eyes lighting up when you saw Jungkook lift his arm up to invite you to sit next to him, his other hand picking up his ringing phone.

“Never busy for you,” he said nonchalantly as if his words didn’t cause your heart to beat even faster. He answered his phone before placing it on speaker. He continued to watch the movie without even glancing at who was on the other end. “Hello?”

“Hey! Wanna go to the club Saturday?” You automatically recognized the voice of Namjoon, considering the fact he and Jungkook stuck to the hip and if you weren’t calling him, Namjoon would. “Jimin is begging the group to go and since you’re not reading the texts, I’m calling you because he needs an answer.”

“I’m with Y/n, you know I don’t use my phone.” Namjoon quickly greeted you. “What club, though?” He patiently waited as Namjoon answered. “Oh!” He looked down at you. “Isn’t that the club you’re going to?” You nodded. “Yeah, I’m down to go. It’ll make it easier for me to keep an eye on Y/n.”

“Namjoon, please take him away,” you playfully whined into the phone, receiving a deep chuckle from the man on the other line. “He’s literally going to scare off the hoes.”

“Just don’t tell him what you’re wearing, Y/n,” Namjoon requested and though it was meant to be more of a joking matter, you agreed almost instantly.

Jungkook covered your mouth. “Don’t give her any ideas.” Namjoon laughed at hearing his tone. “She’s going to do that now thanks to you.”

“You’re welcome. But, I’ll hang up now. I just wanted to ask you that before Jimin went crazy.”

“It’s a good thing you did.”

“I’ll let you two get back to your movie. Bye, Y/n!”

“Bye, Joon!” You exclaimed now that Jungkook had taken his hand away from your mouth. Namjoon hung up and you snuggled up back to Jungkook’s side.

“I shouldn’t expect an outfit pic tomorrow, huh?” Jungkook sighed almost defeatedly. A giggle escaped your mouth and he groaned at seeing your head shaking. “Let’s see if I can find you.”

“I don’t think you’ll be able to.”

“How’s Jungkook by the way?”

You rolled your eyes at hearing one of your girl best friends (and roommate), Da-hee, tease you with the name of the man she and the others knew you had a crush on. It wasn’t anything hidden and they all teased you that he might have some feelings for you with the way he looked at you and how he acted around you. If anything, you and Jungkook were too blind to see the others advances towards one another.

”Do not start,” you warned with a playful tone in your voice, hiding your smile as you grabbed the clothes, Sumi, your other friend, and Da-hee had chosen for you to wear. you. It was something your friends wanted to try—picking each other’s clothes—and even Da-hee’s outfit was handpicked by the two of you. She loved it. “He’s doing good. He might be going to the club we’re going to and he said he wants to give us all a ride home because he wants us safe.”

“In other words,” Da-hee started, leaning back against her hands on your bed, “he wants you to be safe.”

You stayed quiet and left to the bathroom to change. “Shut up.”

Da-hee and Sumi laughed before Da-hee stepped away to open the door of your apartment once she heard a bunch of scattered, hurried knocks. She opened it, expecting it to be your 3 other friends, but Jungkook stood there with his hands in the pockets of his oversized leather jacket. Of course.

“Is Y/n here?” He asked.

“She’s changing,” Da-hee answered. She arched a brow. “Do you want me to pass a message? Because she told me not to let you in so you couldn’t take a peek of her outfit.”

That sentence made Jungkook groan. He shook his head and pinched his nose with his ring-cladded fingers.

“I thought she would forget and not actually go with it,” he breathed out. He looked up at Da-hee who was watching him with amusement, something she usually did whenever he would come over. “Just tell her to call me when you guys are leaving. I’m giving you guys a ride back.”

“Aw, I’ll tell my best friend her bodyguard wants her safe,” Da-hee teased, her hand going up to rest above the place where her heart resided in. She was mocking him and he knew, because it was obvious to everyone he was your best friend, and he disliked it when Da-hee took the title of being your best friend when it belonged to him.

“Shut up, Da-hee.” He scoffed and much like you, he developed your habit of rolling your eyes. He did it pretty often since you tend to do it too much. “Just tell her to text me when she gets there and please be careful with the Uber. I have her location on, yes, but be careful regardless.”

“Yes, sir,” Da-hee said, saluting to his requests.

He huffed and looked over her shoulder. He raised his hand and curtly nodded. “Hi, Sumi.”

“Hi, Jungkook.” Sumi waved back rather enthusiastically.

He then let his eyes travel down to meet Da-hee’s own. “My best friend.”

“That’s what you think, idiot.”

Very much like siblings, he flipped her off and left, clearly upset he wasn’t able to see you. She could only laugh at seeing his defeated expression.

Closing the door, she walked back to your room to see you looking at yourself in the mirror, checking to see if your outfit looked nice.

Watching you put on a new lip tint, you stood back to look at your friend. “Who was it?”

“Your boyfriend and bodyguard.” You rolled her eyes at her explanation, feeling Sumi walk past you to put on her own outfit. “He gave me that exact reaction when I called him the second name.” You slightly chuckled at her teasing and she continued with her sentence. “He just hoped to see a peek of the outfit you were wearing. Nice idea having us choose your outfit because, since Jungkook is always around, he’s seen every outfit you’ve worn.”

“I know, let’s see now how long it takes him to spot me,” you muttered, tilting your head to see if your lip tint escaped your lips. Thankfully, it didn’t.

“Girl, if he was in a room, blindfolded, with about 1000 other women, he would easily recognize you,” Da-hee said, leaning back against your bed. She placed a leg over the other, her heels softly clicking against one another. “Right, Sumi?”

“Right!” Sumi shouted her response from the bathroom.

You shook your head. “Are the girls coming soon?”

“Two of them are done with their auditions,” you nodded along Sumi’s words as she walked out of the bathroom with her gaze on her phone, “and Ye-ji is on her way. She said she just has to change into the outfit you two chose.”

“Aw, we’re going to look so pretty,” Da-hee dramatically sniffed, sitting up a bit to fix the skirt riding up her thighs. She hummed with satisfaction before remembering the words she was going to utter. “We’re going to go to their play next week, right?”

“Duh,” you scoffed out, making sure your purse had everything you needed. “You know I’m a sucker for a good Shakespeare play.”

“Pretty sure you’re in love with the guy or whatever,” Sumi commented, clearly talking about the way you had always fawned over the overly dramatic performances and poetry.

Thanks to your friends who had a love for theater, you were always there for them when they won awards, when they needed someone to criticize them, and when they needed an extra fill for practice. You were basically their dummy, but you loved aiding them through it all and being able to see the final results from the first row, so you didn’t mind helping them.

“I want someone to speak to me like how he made his characters speak to one another,” you breathed out in almost a dreamy-like manner. Sumi and Da-hee watched you. “My man Shakespeare wouldn’t do my love life like how it is right now.”

“He’s dead and he always made his plays end in such a tragedy but, surely, he wouldn’t do that to you,” Da-hee obviously teased as she watched you.

“Shut up,” you groan.

“And, do you really want the man to write you the most horrible tragedy that results in your death?” You eyed Da-hee on the mirror, ignoring the way she was laughing to herself. “I’m just teasing, Y/n, just don’t simp over a dead guy who made such sad pieces of work. For example, Romeo and Juliet. Those children died for each other.”

“Don’t remind me.”

At the end of your sentence, more knocks were heard from your front door as they became harsher and louder. You turned to give Da-hee a small annoyed look.

“Open the door for your annoying ass friends.”

Your roommate, though, could tell you were obviously playing around. It was annoying that your friends' hammered knocks got progressively worse as each second went by, but you liked knowing they joked around.

Da-hee hurried to open it and she came face to face with your three friends: So-yi, Minji, and Ye-ji.

“Sorry, did that annoy you?” Ye-ji jutted out her lip in a teasing matter, seeing the way Da-hee was giving them a stern look. “Also, I’m going to be coming over more often. Saw your neighbor and she’s so attractive.”

“Hell, no, leave her alone,” you piped in, letting your hands wander around your butt to make sure your pants fit right. You felt a rough patch on the left pocket, but ignored it in fear that as soon as you’d notice the design, you wouldn’t like it and wouldn’t like your outfit no more. “She’s a sweetheart and you’re rude.”

“Y/n, you’re literally my favorite out of everyone here,” Ye-ji said with a raise of a brow. You smiled and giggled, letting her know you just wanted her to say it. She rolled her eyes as you laughed “Whatever, I’m not afraid to show my love and affection.”

“Are you guys ready?” So-yi asked, leaning against the door frame of your front door, a hand propped on her hip, much like the title she was given by your group; mom.

“Yep, all done.”

Though, it took you guys around 15 minutes to leave the house due to the fact Sumi wanted to take pictures of everyone and Ye-ji went to get dressed because she stained her shirt with tomato. As soon as she came out of the room, though, you guys wasted more time when she wanted everyone to at least take a shot of alcohol of her choosing. It was a bad mistake trusting her taste because the drink she chose made you all scrunch your faces with disgust and made you all feel dizzy after a sec of downing it.

It was horrible

“So, how’s Jungkook?” Minji asked as you all got into So-yi’s car.

The other girls immediately started making sounds to tease you and you looked away, feeling your entire body heat up. You waved them off with your hand.

“He’s doing good.”

“Is he still being such boyfriend material?” Ye-ji questioned, chuckling to herself once she looked behind her to cast a look at you. “Don’t become shy, Y/n. The amount of nicknames he gives you don’t even make you blink.”

“Oh, yeah,” Da-hee agreed with a shake of her head. “‘I love you so much, hun’, ‘thank you for the food, angel’, and ‘if you’re cold, you can have my sweater, baby.’”

“No way he calls you baby!” Minji exclaimed, clearly shocked at the use of nickname. “No man ever calls you that unless he wants you for real.”

“Well, if he really wanted me, he would ask me out already,” you said. You groaned and dropped your head on the seat. “Do I not give him enough signs?”

“Jungkook literally got told by a friend of his that they like him and he said, and I quote: “I like you as my friend, too,” with a huge smile on his face,” Minji scoffed out, shaking her head at your guys’ friend. After all, Jungkook was one of the girls, though, they all knew you had a thing for him. Thankfully, none of you had the same taste in men. “We’ll see what happens tonight. Maybe good things!”

“Yeah, hopefully.”

Arriving at the club, all of you didn’t make line since the security allowed you to go in almost immediately. Since Ye-ji and Jungkook were so social, they made friends with the security in the front and even made friends with the manager of the place. They knew your faces since you all hung out.

You texted Jungkook that you arrived not so long ago and waited to see if he would find you.

Looking around, you tried spotting Jungkook and remembered it would be easier to spot him since he never strayed away from his usual friend group.

“He’s right there!” Da-hee yelled over the loud music booming off the walls. She gestured towards the group of men by the bar.

You let your squinted eyes get used to the colored lights blinding you and came to find Jungkook’s back facing you.

He looked down at his phone, most likely reading your message, and turned his head to the sides to see if he could spot you. He was drinking and his large jacket was close to enveloping his entire hand as he placed the cup on his lips. His eyes ran around and you made sure to turn around so he wouldn’t see your face. You were just happy your friends walked away to find a table so he wouldn’t automatically spot you all since you were together.

Your phone vibrated against your hand.

i can’t find you hun :(

You smiled and texted him back.

you hate meeee ;-;

You could see his shoulders moving up and down from the laughter escaping his mouth.

A text was immediately sent.

yk i love you more than anyone in this room

i will find you <3

You playfully rolled your eyes at his confidence.

sounds like a threat heh

Namjoon, who was standing next to him, glanced down at the phone in Jungkook’s hand.

will hug you so tight <333

“A simp, I’m telling you,” Da-hee gagged at reading the messages next to you. She looked at you underneath her lashes and scrunched her nose. “Get together already please.”

“Shut up.”

Clubbing was fun. You had your friends, you were drinking, dancing, whatever. It was fun. You loved having a blast with your friends, but you were missing Jungkook’s stare since he didn’t like it when anyone would make you uncomfortable. You weren’t even sure if he had even found you. You did see the amount of people close to the bar and did come to see Jungkook still there. He was talking with Namjoon.

“I like how you and Sumi are kind of matching,” Ye-ji chuckled, gesturing to the color matching clothes you and your other friend had on. You were wearing a pretty white top and denim jeans with such painful heels. Sumi was wearing the same.

You snorted.

“I was surprised!” You spoke loudly, making sure your friend heard you. “I like how we all look good, though!”

“Literally amazing!”

Laughing with Ye-ji, she accidentally bumped into you when a person bumped into her. You bumped into another person who, unluckily, had a drink in her hands.

“I’m so sorry!” The poor girl exclaimed, grabbing some napkins to give you so you could clean off the sticky beverage on your chest that was traveling down to your stomach. You cringed at the feeling.

“It’s okay,” you waved off the girl’s worries, also feeling your shirt cling onto your skin. It felt disgusting. “Don’t worry about it, it was my fault.”

The girl continued apologizing, but you left after making sure she knew you weren’t mad or anything.

Heading towards the bathroom with Da-hee and Ye-ji, they winced at seeing the way you tried separating the wet shirt from your skin. It was sticking to you and they could feel that sensation on them.

“Do me a favor,” you said, dabbing your chest with a wet napkin. Your friends hummed. “Can you go to Jungkook and ask him if he can let me borrow his jacket? The wet patch is turning red.”

“Yeah, I’ll go ask.”

Da-hee immediately left and she bee-lined her way towards the bar to tap Jungkook on the shoulder. He turned to look at her, expecting it to be you, but, much to his disappointment, it was just your roommate. He raised his eyebrows in question, finishing the drink he was sipping.

“What happened?” He asked, turning back around. “Is she okay?”

“No,” Da-hee simply answered with, just to build up unnecessary tension for her entertainment. He started looking around for you. He frowned and let his gaze wander back to her. “She needs your jacket.”

“Alright, let’s go,” he went to stand up, but Da-hee blocked his way with her hand reached out. He groaned to himself. He took off his jacket without question and he was now left bare with his black t-shirt that clung to him, much like yours did. But, your was wet and his wasn’t. “Is she okay, though?”

Da-hee nodded. “Yeah, don’t worry.” She nodded her head to Namjoon in greeting and immediately dashed back to you. She made her way towards the bathroom and didn’t even spare a glance at the other girls there before giving you the jacket.

Putting it on, the jacket engulfed you. The girls awed at the comparison, but you were more into the fact it reached the bottom of your butt. Of course Jungkook got a jacket bigger than his normal size.

“That’s so cute,” So-yi pouted, taking pictures of you at every possible angle. You let out a small “oh my god” and even tried covering your face with your new sweater paws.

Shaking your head out of embarrassment, you walked out and made sure Jungkook’s jacket was zipped up to hide the stain. Maybe it was your sign to go home.

“I think I’m gonna head out,” you huffed out in a defeated manner. Thankfully, all of you did have fun and drank enough so, you were thankful you had a fun time during the hours you were there.

“Aw, okay,” Ye-ji frowned, leaning over to you. “Do you have a ride?”

“Me.” You jumped at hearing the new voice and turned to see Jungkook standing there with a grin. “Girls.”

“Ew, that was so nasty,” Da-hee cringed at his use of words. Jungkook rolled his eyes. He turned to look down at you.

“What happened?” He asked with his brows furrowing together out of worry. You sighed.

“I bumped into some girl after someone bumped into Ye-ji and Ye-hi bumped into me. The girl had a large cup filled with a red drink so all of it spilled on me,” you answered, slightly moving around once you felt the sticky sensation come back. “Can you drop me off? The shirt is fucking annoying me.”

Jungkook nodded before he made sure he had his keys on him. “Yeah, let’s go.” He glanced at his jacket. “Do you want to wear my shirt if it’s uncomfortable?”

“Are you going to walk around shirtless?”

He chuckled. “I’ll wear my jacket.”

You thought about it before nodding. “Yeah, that’s fine then. Just go to the bathroom and tell Namjoon to give it to me so you don’t walk out shirtless.”

“Yeah, we don’t want to see your nips!” Da-hee exclaimed. She and Ye-ji snickered together as they watched you, and caught your friends up with what happened.

“Let’s go.”

After successfully changing shirts, you felt relieved at not feeling the stickiness of your wet shirt clinging onto you. You did feel a bit bad for Jungkook for having to wear his jacket over his bare skin, but he didn’t seem to mind.

You stepped out of the bathroom feeling comfortable now, but stopped in your tracks at coming to see Jungkook and Sumi talking. Out of your entire friend group, the two never talked. You didn’t seem to mind it, but Jungkook had said he usually doesn’t talk with Sumi because she seems very shy around him and he didn’t want to bother her. She never talked to him, either.

“Ready?” Jungkook questioned as soon as he saw you. You nodded.

“I’ll see you later, Sumi,” you said, waving goodbye to her before walking out with Jungkook.

He eyed you.

“My shirt is still so big on you,” Jungkook teased, leaning in a bit to fix your necklace tangling itself around your neck. You snorted.

“You stretched it out with your arms,” you teased back, thanking him after he opened the door for you to get in, his eyes briefly running around the parking lot to make sure no one was being weird. You hopped in and waited for him to buckle you because that’s what he liked doing; buckling your seat belt.

“These arms are the same arms you liked wrapping ribbons around after that little trend you saw,” he commented, closing the door. He walked to his side of the car and quickly got in so he could take off his jacket and change into one of his clean gym shirts. “Do not judge.”

“'I'm not saying anything,” you laughed out loud.

“Mhm, sure. I can literally hear your thoughts.”

Sitting in silence, your phone vibrated against your back pocket as Jungkook began his route to your house.

Grabbing it, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the teasing messages your friends sent not even 5 minutes later.

You texted back but you could feel a sudden energy in Jungkook that had you humming to yourself.

“What is it?” You asked without looking at him.

“What’s what?” He questioned.

You put your phone down and gave him a look. “Really?” He tried his hardest to give you an innocent expression, but you could see right through him. “C’mon spill.”

He softly cleared his throat.

“So, uh, Sumi.”

“What about her?” You asked and you dreaded to hear the rest. You knew what was coming. You weren’t dumb.

“Is she single?” There it was. “I mean, I just… I saw her dancing and she looked so pretty.”

“Really?” He nodded.

“Maybe, um, you can put in a good word for me?” He seemed nervous and you wished you could say no, but that would just be so selfish and rude on your part. “I know it seems so unfair of me to ask because I don’t want you to think I’m using you at all. It’s not like that. I became your friend because I liked you and I still do.”

You gulped and now it was your turn to clear your throat. You plastered on a smile.

“Of course I’ll put in a good word for you,” you said, watching him smile rather widely, his gaze straight ahead since he was driving. “Where did this come from?”

“I just saw her dancing and her energy just attracted me,” Jungkook explained and you wish you hadn’t asked. “When she turned around, I was shocked to see it was her. She’s always so quiet.”

“I’ll help you out tomorrow, yeah?” You asked. He nodded. “We’re going to hang out more tomorrow so I’ll be happy to talk with her.”

“I love you so much, hun.”

“So he’s attracted to Sumi?”

“Yeah,” you replied, sprawled out on your bed to tell Ye-ji and the rest of the girls what happened. Sumi was working last minute and as soon as she left, you wanted to ask the girls their opinion before asking Sumi to go out with Jungkook. Da-hee was working, too, but you made a mental note to let her know what had happened so she wouldn’t be left out.

“What the hell?” Ye-ji breathed out, clearly shocked, too, on your behalf. “Surely Sumi would deny him since she knows you like him.”

“That’s so mean, though,” you frowned, sitting up on your bed to lean against the stuffed animals Jungkook had bought you. You placed one on your lap to fidget with. “I can’t step in because I liked him first.”

So-yi sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I just don’t like it, Y/n. We were all sure he liked you! He calls you pet names, he spoils you, let’s you bite him for God’s sake, and there’s so much more.”

“Yeah!” Minji exclaimed, piping in to the conversation to add onto it. She glanced at your friends. “The club! Remember how he, without hesitation, took off his shirt for you to wear.”

“Yeah, yeah!” Ye-ji enthusiastically nodded. “Da-hee was freaking out because he was so worried about you when she went to go ask him for his sweater.”

“I just don’t get it.”

They all grumbled their agreements to that statement, staring at you with pity since you looked like you were on the verge of tears.

“Honeys, I’m home!” Da-hee shouted as soon as she unlocked the front door. You groaned in acknowledgment as you face planted on your bed again. “Also, Sumi is here. I saw her walking here so I drove her.”

“In Y/n’s room!” So-yi yelled back, watching your movements.

You immediately sat up and smiled at your friends, fixing your hair as best as you could so they didn’t have an idea as to what you were doing.

“Ooh, a little party here,” Da-hee sang, making her way to your beanbag to get comfortable on. She immediately snuggled up onto it and grabbed the fluffy weighted blanket you knew to keep there for her and others. “Deserve this nap.”

As Da-hee lulled herself to sleep, you and the others made sure to quiet down because as much as Da-hee loved the chatter of her dear friends, you didn’t want to wake her up.

Minji, So-yi, and Ye-ji kept themselves busy with choosing a movie on the streaming devices you all simultaneously paid. They bickered and they bickered and you saw Sumi make her way towards the kitchen to grab a drink. Taking it as the perfect opportunity to talk with her, you inhaled and exhaled, and followed after her.

You cleared your throat before speaking up. “Sumi, can I talk to you about something?”

“Of course! What’s up?”

Sumi leaned against the kitchen counter and looked at you over the rim of the cup she was drinking from. You puffed your cheeks before sending her a smile.

“Uh, hey, so… I want to set you up with Jungkook,” you slipped out, knowing that Jungkook only wanted her to hear good things from him. Though, you knew she already knew everything about him considering he was always there. “Is that fine?”

She frowned but slowly nodded. “Sure, that’s fine by me.” She let out a small chuckle under her breath. “I’m surprised, though. He never seemed interested.”

You awkwardly chuckled a bit. “Yeah, that’s just the type of person he is.”

“Are you playing matchmaker now?” She teased, bumping her shoulder against yours, and you noticed this is the longest she’s spoken to you because although she was close with your group, she was always the one who likes watching everyone instead of speaking.

“You could say that.”

“I’m down.”

“Great, I’ll let you know the details!”

Walking off to your room to retrieve your phone, Da-hee, who was wide awake and watching you two, looked at you with a confused expression.

“You set her up with Jungkook?” She questioned with an incredulous tone that was toned down to not alert the girl you were just converging with. “But, girl, he’s your man!”

You sadly smiled and shook your head, dismissing her words. “He asked me to put in a good word. Just trying to help my friend.”

“And she didn’t say no?” Da-hee asked. You hummed a “no” under your breath and immediately opened your phone to text your best friend. “Always knew she liked him.”

“Leave the poor girl alone, Da-hee,” you snorted, sending her a small glare under your lashes. She shrugged away your scolding and stretched.

got u a date with sumi

Not even a second later, Jungkook read your message.

wth?! really? ugh this is why you’re the best fr

“You told her?” Ye-ji immediately came into your room, looking over her shoulder to make sure no one else (Sumi) was listening. She quieted down. “She’s bragging about it to us! This is not very “girl’s girl” of her.”

“Jungkook is not mine,” you dismissed her.

“Yeah, but we all know that you like him,” Ye-ji said with a frown. “It’s not that he’s not yours, Y/n. You like him and Sumi knows that.”

“Yeah but Jungkook doesn’t know that,” you breathed out and they could see the obvious pain in your face at Jungkook confirming that your feelings are not reciprocated. “I’ll probably just move on. Maybe try to go on dates again.”

Your friends couldn’t help but feel bad for you. Hopefully Sumi didn’t brag about what happened afterwards to you.

“So, you were nice enough to do this for me,” Jungkook smiled as you sat on his couch for your movie night. He reached for his back pocket and you saw the way his fingers grabbed onto his card, eyes briefly meeting the Polaroid picture he had there of the two of you with your cheeks mushed together. “Whatever you want on Amazon.”

You snorted. “You know I can never say ‘no’ to spending money. Specifically yours.”

“I spoil you too much,” he chuckled under his breath, his slippers shuffling around the house to pick up some things he didn’t want to pick up. He knew you being there meant to clean up because you always gave him that look his mom approved of at coming to see clothes scattered on the floor. “We’ll go to the mall sometime this week so you can get some clothes, too. The season is changing.”

“Ugh, the humidity is killing me, I’m so ready for the cold,” you grumbled under your breath, appreciating the fact Jungkook’s apartment had A/C. “Just so you know, I’m taking your sweaters.”

“I figured,” Jungkook scoffed out, sending you a look. “I bought more since someone here likes stealing them and I’m left with none.”

“Don’t blame me.”

“I am.”

Dismissing his words, you thought back on Sumi and his attraction to her. So you cleared your throat and fixed your comfortable position to hide your true feelings.

“So, Sumi…” You started.

His slippers shuffling on the floor stopped before he continued cleaning. “I know, I know. It was sudden but, she looked so pretty dancing and I’m sure you saw but, she was wearing these jeans with a butterfly embroidered on the back of them with a white top. I looked away for a sec to give Da-hee my sweater for you and Sumi had turned around by that time so I could see her face.”

“So you saw her back first and that attracted you in the beginning?” Jungkook’s coughed a little, his finger softly brushing against the tip of his nose out of embarrassment. “Oh, Kook, your deprived ass.”

“Shut up,” he hissed out, playfully slapping your knee once he came to sit next to you. You slightly giggled at the same time he turned serious. “It’s just a bit nerve wracking to date other people because I know some girls don’t like it when their boyfriend has a girl best friend.”

“Oh, yeah,” you breathed out. You sighed and shrugged with a small smile. “I will respect your girlfriend if they don’t want me in the picture and I hope you do, too. So, if Sumi asks, no more nicknames, no more giving me your card to buy things, and no more prioritizing me first.”

He frowned.

Slowly letting his back come in contact with the couch’s cushions, he took a sip of his drink. “I just can’t imagine my life without you.”

“You’ll be fine, Jungkook.”

“Oh, God. What about my date with Sumi, hun?” You could see he was freaking out now. “I’m over here talking about something that isn’t going to happen for a while because she’s not even my girlfriend. I completely forgot my date with Sumi is tomorrow.” His chest started heaving up and down and you immediately leaned in to calm him down. “She’s going to hate me, huh?”

“Jungkook.”

“She will hate me.”

“Jungkook.”

“You can sit by a table and spy on us while giving me some conversation starters.”

“Jungkook.”

“Bam is going with you by the way. He misses you and he’s basically your son, so you’re dogsitting.”

He continued to ramble and with a roll of your eyes, you grabbed his shoulders to make him sit still and to look at you. He stopped his rambling and you sent him a small, reassuring smile.

“You got this,” you tried to encourage him, making sure he could see how serious you sounded and were. He kept eye contact with you. “You’re stressing so much over something like this when you’re such a good and kind person. Let’s not forget very funny, too.”

“Okay, okay, that was too far,” he chuckled, shaking his head at your words. Snickering, you sat back down beside him, continuing to watch the movie. “You would never call me funny.”

“You’re right,” you breathed out rather dramatically, stretching out your legs. “I can’t call you something you obviously aren’t.”

“You are such an ass,” he gritted out, his hands meeting your sides to tickle you. Having seen that coming, you had grabbed a pillow to slap him with. “Ow!”

“Don’t tickle me, asshole,” you said, slapping him again. “Now watch the movie or else I’m going to ask for your Spotify premium.”

Snorting, he shrugged and passed you his phone. “Go ahead, you know my passwords.”

“I’m going to miss the streaming services you have,” you sadly sighed, grabbing your phone to log onto his Spotifyaccount. You had grabbed his phone, though, to make sure his password was the same. “Goodbye Hulu. Goodbye HBO Max. Goodbye Amazon Prime.”

“Okay, calm down, angel,” he said with a small laugh escaping his lips due to your dramatics. “You’ll live.”

”Whatever.”

He stayed quiet, but he couldn’t help but think about his date tomorrow. He frowned, fidgeting with his fingers. You noticed and placed a hand on top of his hands, your finger rubbing against his skin.

“I’m sure your date will be fine.”

And Jungkook wished you had been right.

It was Saturday, 8:41 PM, and Sumi had been 11 minutes late. Jungkook didn’t mind. He just disliked the fact she didn’t at least send him a small message to let him know.

She did come into the restaurant 4 minutes later after he checked his watch, walking as if she wasn’t late at all. But Jungkook felt bad for the reason of her lateness; her car had broken down.

He had assumed things would get better from then, but he was so wrong because he felt nothing with Sumi. If anything, it was just awkward and Sumi didn’t try to make conversation, either, which he understood at first but now, the conversations were leading to nowhere.

“Um, I was surprised to see you at the club last weekend,” Jungkook said with a small smile, hoping to reassure her. She smiled back and took a sip of her drink before answering.

“Yeah, Y/n and Da-hee convinced me so I took a chance,” she honestly replied, but she went back to staying quiet shortly after again. Jungkook quietly sighed under his breath. Was this a recurrent thing?

He pursed his lips and seeing that Sumi was subtly using her phone, he took out his phone under the table to text you.

hey hun, is sumi usually very quiet?

He waited for a bit until he saw that you read his message and were typing back.

mmm she is very quiet but she loves making conversation

why?

He bit the tip of his thumb and typed with one hand.

she is rlly not talking at all…

like at allll

its awkward

He could see the bubbles appear before your text sent.

shes probably just shy since you’re not close with her

He sighed and he sent you back a quick message before looking back at his date who was trying her hardest to hide the fact she was on her phone, too.

“Are you an only child?” Jungkook continued to pester so he could get Sumi to talk even more. She shook her head.

“Yes, I am,” she answered. Jungkook curtly raised his brow to get her to continue and she took the hint. She took a deep breath. “Um, I mean, my parents wanted more but, they just wanted to have me.”

“How’s that like, you know, being the only child?” He asked, briefly glancing at her over the brim of his cup before setting it down. “I’m the oldest out of 3 so I can’t even imagine being the only child.”

“It gets lonely sometimes,” Sumi said, shrugging her shoulders. She played with her fork to not look at Jungkook in the eye. “My friend groups have filled that hole.”

“Friend groups?”

“Oh, yeah,” Sumi awkwardly chuckled. “The friend group with Y/n, Da-hee and the other girls isn’t the only one in my life. I have another group of friends.”

“What are their names?” Jungkook questioned, sending her a smile to show that he was interested in getting to know her for her. She smiled back.

“Narai is the oldest one,” she answered. She continued to yap but Jungkook couldn’t help but freeze in his seat at hearing the name of a girl who was obsessed with you and him.

Oddly enough, a girl was mostly jealous of him for befriending a person like you. She believed it was not fair you were paying attention to him and spending your study time to hang with him. She wasn’t a friend of yours. She was nothing. She was simply a girl who sat next to you in class who believed people like you two were the only ones to succeed in life and the others would fail. You hated it a lot.

Jungkook knew you didn’t like that sort of attention and he himself almost got in a fight with her—Ye-ji was there, too—for making you feel unsafe. You two were nobodies. Why was a girl so obsessed with you two like you were celebrities? Especially you. He didn’t have an answer for that, but he hated someone else making you uncomfortable.

Now that was a red flag on Sumi. Right? He couldn’t be in a relationship or have something with a girl who’s friends with a person who harasses his best friend.

Jungkook could only sit, but he didn’t feel right being there.

“Y/n.”

“Yes?”

“Babe, you’re watching a romance movie, crying,” Da-hee said with a small sad smile on her lips. She sighed and sat next to you, placing your fluffy-socked feet on her lap. “Watching Pretty Woman isn’t going to help with your feelings.”

You sniffed and frowned. “Yes, it is. It can help me set high expectations for my partner even though he,” you gestured towards the TV, “said some things. But he loved her!”

Da-hee exhaled through her nose, patting your calf. “Come on.” She stood up. “Let’s go to the convenience store and get a bunch of food. I’ll watch the movie with you.”

“Okay,” you rapidly nodded, standing up to put on your slippers for outside. “Let’s go.”

Buying a bunch of junk food that had you salivating at the mere sight, you two walked back home, excited to have another bonding moment. Though, Da-hee knew you needed this a lot more and what better way to distract you from your long-lasting crush going on a date with your friend than her dramatically crying?

You spent your time consoling her with a couple of tears escaping your eyes here and there, but you were distracted enough until it was 12 at night, long after Jungkook’s date was over.

You and Da-hee were still on the couch, all bundled up with blankets and plushies, because you went from watching a romance movie to another rom-com that had you crying because of the dynamic.

You two jumped simultaneously at hearing a bunch of pattered knocks on the door.

Frowning, Da-hee looked in the peephole and opened it.

Much to your surprise, Sumi was there with a sheepish smile, grateful that you two weren’t sleeping yet. She just didn’t know who to go to to talk about her date with Jungkook.

“Hey, Sumi,” you greeted, standing up to hug her. “What are you doing here? It’s late.”

“Sorry,” she simply said with an awkward laugh escaping shortly after. She stepped closer and you and Da-hee shared a confused look when she took off her shoes to head to your couch. “I just didn’t know who to go to.”

“About?” Da-hee asked.

“My date,” Sumi answered. She looked at you and frowned at your tears. “Are you guys okay?” You gestured to the TV. “Oh, sorry for interrupting. I just wanted to talk to you.”

“Me?” You pointed to yourself while she nodded.

“You.” You gestured for her to go on with her sentence, but you could tell she was struggling to utter out what she wanted to say. “Jungkook seemed distracted. If he wasn’t talking about you, he would be looking down at his phone, and I knew he was texting you.”

Your brows furrowed. You hadn’t even been texting Jungkook. You knew he was on a date with her and you knew not to pester. “Sorry, Sumi but I haven’t been texting to him. I texted him around 9 PM, that was it.”

“I just…” She stammered out, feeling frustrated with herself for not being able to get her train of thoughts out. “Jungkook loves talking about you and as his date, it wasn’t something I liked. I know you two are best friends but I want to get to know him without you… distracting him?” Da-hee went to open her mouth to defend you, but you softly shook your head to stop her. “I want to get to be more with him romantically and you texting him, being with him almost 24 hours a day, texting him 24 hours a day, I feel like you’re his girlfriend more than I am.”

“But you’re not his girlfriend,” Da-hee muttered.

Sumi waved her off. “No, no, I know that, but I want to be.” She looked back at you. “You know where I’m coming from, right?” You couldn’t help but nod. “Just… distance yourself from Jungkook. Let me get to know him so we can be something more. I’ll let him know, though, about me setting boundaries and as to why you’re not texting him. Thank you for this.”

You sent her a tight-lipped smile. “Of course.”

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“Bye, Sumi.”

“Bye.”

Once she closed the door behind her, Da-hee turned to face you.

“What the fuck was that?” She scoffed out, in disbelief at the girl’s nerve for telling you to back off of Jungkook’s life.

She knew Jungkook wouldn’t survive not talking to you. He went crazy when you went on a trip and couldn’t talk to him for 14 hours that he included himself on the trip with the promise of paying for food and drinks for you guys’. He flew across the world last minute because you couldn’t text him and he missed you. Who does that?

You let out a shaky sigh, going back to your comfortable place on the couch, and turning on the television.

“I just got told to stop talking to Jungkook and I will do that because I respect her boundaries,” you said, tears starting to form again in your eyes at the thought of not being close friends with Jungkook. You two have been attached to the hip for years and you never thought this moment would come. “I respect her boundaries.”

You didn’t think it would come to this, but your fear came true. You didn’t mind him going on a date or dating another girl. You didn’t. You were afraid of losing him entirely than dealing with the heartbreak of him being loved by another person that wasn’t you and yet, you still lost him. You can’t be friends and you have to abide by Sumi’s words.

How would Jungkook survive without you and how would you survive without him?

You didn’t know if you’d make it out alive; however, you suspected that Jungkook would be able to handle life without you being in it. He could handle it.

“Why isn’t she answering?” Jungkook muttered under his breath, slapping his phone on the palm of his hand as he waited for you to message him back.

Two days passed after his date with Sumi and the progress between them was not going anywhere. As his best friend and his confidant, he was waiting for your opinion on the matter since he was lost.

Sumi did not want him at all and Jungkook didn’t want her. Was that feeling normal? He wasn’t sure.

He texted you again.

hey, angel, are u okay? it’s past 5 PM and i havent heard from u since two days ago

He waited.

And waited.

And waited again.

But he was left on delivered.

What if something happened to you?

He tapped away on his phone, placed it by his ear, and waited until the person on the other end answered the phone call.

He sighed in relief once he heard the familiar “hello?” ring in his ear.

“Hey, Ye-ji,” he greeted your best friend rather hurriedly. Ye-ji hummed in greeting. “Listen, is Y/n okay?”

“Uh, I don’t know,” Ye-ji mumbled under her breath. “I haven’t talked to her in a minute since I’m busy with rehearsals. Why? Is she not answering the phone after 10 minutes again?” Sigh. “Jungkook, we’ve talked about this.”

“No, no,” Jungkook said, dismissing her words. It happened one time. “She hasn’t texted me or called me back after 2 days, and I wanted to make sure she was home so I could go.”

“2 days?” Ye-ji exclaimed in shock, knowing how you two have some sort of separation anxiety. After all, Jungkook did fly to another country for you since you couldn’t text him back for 14 hours and he couldn’t handle that. This was odd. “I don’t know what’s going on then, bud. I’m going to call her to check in and I’ll let you know if anything’s wrong, okay?” Jungkook hummed.

“Thanks, Ye-ji, if she answers, ask her if it’s okay to go to her apartment so we can talk,” Jungkook said, starting to pace. One of his hands was intertwined with the strands of his hair, pulling on it out of anxiety. It seemed like he was having some type of withdrawals being away from you. “I’ll usually go without asking but, just in case something’s going on.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course, bud,” Ye-ji’s voice was laced with concern at the severity of this. She was gone for three days and suddenly there was a lot of drama. “I’ll call you back.”

“Alright, bye.”

“Bye.” Ye-ji immediately called you after she hung up on Jungkook. She impatiently listened to the call ring while biting her nails, and ignored her classmates looking at her with confusion.

“Hi, Ye-ji,” you plainly answered after two rings.

“What’s going on?” She asked. You let out a confused noise at her words. “Jungkook called me, asking me if you were okay because you haven’t texted him in 2 days. What’s going on, babe?”

She heard silence after she finished talking.

And then she heard the sniffles. She frowned, raising a hand to one of her cast-mates to not bother her in the moment.

“Sumi said I should distance myself from him so she could get closer to him,” you replied, keeping your voice as steady as you could. “I’m obviously going to respect her wishes because he’s not mine and she is heading in a romantic direction with him.”

Ye-ji opened her mouth to answer before closing it shut. She sighed. “Why is she doing all of this?”

You snorted and shook your head. “Again, Ye-ji, he’s not my boyfriend. He was just my best friend. If his future girlfriend wanted me to stop talking to him then I’ll do nothing but respect that. He’s not mine.”

“That’s the thing,” Ye-ji scoffed out. “He is. He would call himself just yours because that’s what he was. If the world ended right now, who do you think he’ll go running to?”

“And that’s what Sumi was hinting at,” you breathed out. “That he talks about me 24/7 and that’s why I need to distance myself so she could get to know him. I’m just respecting that.”

Ye-hi couldn’t help but feel bad. She knew your feelings for Jungkook were more than just a crush, that your feelings crossed the line of

“Y/n…” She started.

“I’m okay,” you reassured her, though she could tell by the tone in your voice you were far from it. You cleared your throat once you heard her silence. “Wait, aren’t you at rehearsals?”

“Yeah,” she answered, knowing you were changing the topic. She glanced around the room. “I had to take a break since Jungkook called me.” She inhaled. “What am I supposed to tell him, though? He requested that I ask you if he could head over.”

“Uh, just tell him that I’m sick,” you said. You felt a pain in your chest at not being able to text him but if Sumi is what made him happy, you didn’t want to intervene at all. “And tell him to not visit me because it’s a bad cold, it’s been days.”

Ye-ji bit her bottom lip at your words. “Okay.”

“Thank you, Ye-ji. I’m sorry for having you tell him things on my behalf. I truly do not want to cause any issues.”

Your friend hummed in acknowledgment, waving off another one of her classmates who came to give her the script they had borrowed. “No, don’t worry. Sumi is just taking this to a new level. I get it he’s not yours and you’re not his but, everyone could see the connection. Even Sumi told us so many times about how you and Jungkook were cute together… and now here she is.”

“Its whatever,” you grumbled like it was nothing. “I’ll let you go though okay? I’m going to take a nap.”

“Okay, bud, bye!”

“Bye.”

Hanging up, Ye-ji tapped on Jungkook’s contact, and messaged him. She couldn’t stand to hear his pained voice because he was missing you. She couldn’t.

She texted him.

called her and she answered

shes not feeling well tho she said she’ll call u once she feels better

tho yk u can’t ask a lot about her since you’re talking with sumi now right???

She put away her phone, going back to practicing for her upcoming show. She felt her phone buzz in her pocket and knowing that Jungkook would not stop texting her, she opened it to see his messages.

fuckkkk i forgot to tell u what happened

i need to bother someone and ik where u are

i’ll see u soon

She sighed. Of course he would bother her.

She was rehearsing with her partner when she heard a bunch of people simultaneously saying, “Jungkook!”

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes. That’s why she never liked him coming over. He was friends with everyone there since you and him always came to her plays and rehearsals. There was one time when you were helping her with her dress and the two of you had to step away, only to come back to find out Jungkook got a small part because he got well with everyone and he was a good actor. He was decent, Ye-ji noted.

He never got invited after that.

“Jungkook, leave,” Ye-ji groaned out. “If I wanted a little brother to pester me, I would’ve made my parents give me one.”

“I’m literally the brother everyone wants,” Jungkook grinned, though she could tell he hadn’t been sleeping at all due to the eye bags under his eyes. Damn, you two were like each others drugs, as poetic as it sounds. Being away from one another really had you two act like you were having withdrawals. “Anyway, I came to gossip.”

“You’re acting like Y/n,” Ye-ji commented, fixing her dress since she was playing Juliet in Romeo and Juliet, your favorite.

Jungkook sent her a small smile, looking down at his phone. “Anyway, I came to tell you the gossip since my gossip buddy doesn’t want to see me.” Ye-ji hummed in acknowledgment. “Here.”

Ye-ji turned around to find him passing her his phone, showing her some picture. She looked at him. “Do I swipe?” Jungkook gave her a look, knowing full well what she was referring to. She scoffed. “I’m just asking. I don’t want to see dick pics.” She focused on the picture. “What the hell? Is this Sumi on a dating app?”

“Mhm,” Jungkook nodded, leaning back against his palms. “Jimin sent me a screenshot. I was about to send something like, ‘Oh, I haven’t asked her out yet, maybe she hasn’t deleted her account from before.’ Then… he sends me the other picture.”

Ye-ji took it as a sign to swipe and came in contact with some messages from yesterday. “Is she just playing with you? I thought you guys were serious?”

Jungkook shrugged. “I don’t know. Should I feel hurt?”

“Are you not?”

“Surprisingly, no,” the man breathed out, dropping his head back to look at the ceiling. “You think Y/n will be disappointed in me for not having any sort of connection with Sumi?”

Ye-ji chewed on her bottom lip. “I thought you had a connection with her at the club.” She looked at him with a confused expression. “How did you even see her?”

“Well, she was wearing a white top,” Jungkook explained, demonstrating with his hands how the top looked, “and jeans with a butterfly patch on the back pocket—”

Ye-ji froze at his description, zoning out from his explanation.

“I didn’t expect Sumi to wear such a fit but it was nice,” Jungkook continued, not having noticed how Ye-ji stood so still in her spot. “Though, I feel like I shouldn’t have asked her out just because she looked good dancing. Should I cut things off?” Silence. He sighed, covering half of his face with his hand. “You’re right, that’s mean. I just don’t feel a connection but she’s… nice.”

Your raven-haired girl friend shook her head. “No, no. Listen, don’t be with someone just because they’re nice. Do you feel a connection or not?” Jungkook shook his head, now leaning forward with his hands on the palms of his propped up hands. “Then why are you going to be with someone who you feel nothing for and is obviously not interested in you when she’s in dating apps while telling other people she wants to build a romantic relationship with you?”

“She’s saying that?” Jungkook frowned. He receives a nod. “I honestly don’t like that…”

“Look, go home,” Ye-ji starts, picking him up from the floor, “think about your feelings more. If you don’t like Sumi, do not string her along because she’s nice. You two deserve to find good people.” He slowly nods. “If you like her romantically and you feel something, then let her know your boundaries and you not liking the fact she’s on a dating app.”

“Dating apps,” Jungkook grumbled out, placing his hands in the front pockets of his jacket. “It was more than one app.”

“Well, do what you need to do. Call me when you figure it out.”

“Okay,” he mumbles, thinking about you.

He walks away and curtly waves at everyone goodbye with lack of enthusiasm.

How could he have the energy to do what he did with you? It just wasn’t the same.

As Ye-ji watched him leave, she immediately took out her phone, scrolling through the pictures she took of you.

Disappointingly enough, she did not have a picture of you and the back of your jeans. All she knew was that Sumi had a patch on the leg of her pants, not on the back pocket.

It couldn’t have been Sumi.

5 days.

5 fucking days.

120 hours and whatever fucking minutes because guess what? Jungkook wasn’t counting. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t even eat without thinking about the fact you used to eat dinner with him every day and this specific food was your favorite and this drink you liked. You were in the back of his mind and you stayed there permanently inked just like the tattoos on his arm.

Jungkook was never one to believe in the whole “I can’t survive without my partner” bullshit. But being away from you for almost a week made him feel weak and lonely. He felt like he couldn’t even breathe without being on the brink of tears that had his eyesight blurred, and his heart felt like someone was stepping on it continuously until the blood ran itself up his throat. He was never the type to believe in that bullshit. Never.

He should’ve known, though, when he almost went crazy over the fact you couldn’t text for 14 days. Not even a full day. When he flew for 14 hours himself, he was so done with everyone until he had you again.

At 8 AM, the next morning after the 5th day, he was already knocking on your apartment door to wake everyone up, because if he couldn’t breathe without you and he couldn’t sleep without dreaming of you, then no one was going to have a good nights sleep. If he couldn’t have it, no one could.

Da-hee was the one who opened the door and slammed it on his face while telling him you weren’t there.

He left to his house confused.

At 10 AM, 2 hours later, he went back.

Da-hee opened it and again, she told him you weren’t there.

He came around 2 PM, 4 hours later, and yet again, you weren’t there.

You had to be fucking with him. You truly had to have been.

So, he knocked again at 6 PM.

“Is Y/n here?”

Jungkook could see that your roommate was starting to feel pity for him as this was the 4th time of the day he came knocking on the door, asking for you. He also noted the annoyance starting to seep in her eyes at hearing him knock on the damn door for the 3rd time of the day. She tried her hardest to not let it show as she gave him a smile.

“She went out, Jungkook,” your roommate stated again as if she was saying a mantra at this point. He scoffed at her almost robotic tone with a fake smile starting to spread on his lips. “She’s not here.”

“I know she’s in there, Da-hee.” He moved to the side but she blocked him from coming in by placing a hand on his chest. Softly pushing him away, she closed the door. “Why doesn’t she want to see me?”

Da-hee mentally groaned. She had told you that Jungkook, stubborn and head-strong, was not going to easily drop her curt replies and would immediately demand an answer for your sudden disappearance. You knew she was right but you respected Sumi’s boundary to back off, and even believed Jungkook wouldn’t seek for you.

Da-hee was so ready to rub it on your face.

“She’s not here, Jeon.” He pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger as he leaned against the door frame of your front door, glancing at the whiteboard hanging there that had your silly dad joke of the day. “I’m serious.”

“I need to see her.” Da-hee was used to him wanting to be around you and needing you, but she didn’t expect to see him almost lose it at not being able to see you at all. “It’s been 5 fucking days and I haven’t seen her at all. She’s avoiding me!”

“At this point I’d think Y/n is your girlfriend rather than that girl you’re talking with,” Da-hee commented, snorting at his words and actions. He shook his head and placed his hands in the pockets of the racing bike jacket you had gifted him, looking away. She frowned at his silence. “Is that what this is about? Sumi?”

“More about me having a talking stage with your guys’ friend, even though it’s anything but that?” Da-hee nodded and he groaned under his breath, his head going back to land on the wall with a small thud. “It’s not much of a talking stage when she’s texting my friend behind my back.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook said, waving off your roommate’s reaction. “I’m not phased by it whatsoever. We’re not official, she can do whatever she wants.”

“Maybe you’re not phased by it because you don’t have feelings for her?” Da-hee questioned, her shoulders moving up and down in a shrug. He continued to stay quiet. “Damn, Jeon. Tell me more about your messy love life, please.”

“I saw her at the club and I don’t know, I just… My eyes never left her and I felt a force pushing me to her.” He ran a hand over his face. He sighed. “I even loved the outfit she wore: the denim pants with a butterfly embroidered on the back pocket, black heels, and some type of top that Y/n had mentioned was very y2k. Whatever that means.”

“I would think you’re describing Y/n’s outfit from that one time we went out, Jungkook.” Da-hee chuckled, fixing her shoulder bag. He gave her a confused look and she took out her phone. With her gaze on her phone, she continued to explain, “Y/n and Sumi went to the club with matching outfits but, Sumi was wearing jeans with a butterfly embroidery on the part of the leg. Y/n wore the one with the back pocket.”

Jungkook took Da-hee’s phone away from her grasp rather quickly and harshly, eyeing the photo your friend group had taken. He eyed your smile almost immediately and looked at your outfit to see Da-hee was saying the truth.

“But, Y/n was sure it was Sumi who I was looking at,” Jungkook muttered, lips softly parted to fully grasp the news he was given. “No wonder I didn’t feel that connection with Sumi!”

“How did you feel a connection in the first place?” Da-hee asked, arching a brow, referring to the way Sumi did not turn around. He simply saw her back and that was it. “Weirdo.”

“You’re literally obsessed with searching up hand pics on social media,” Jungkook retorted back, though Da-hee could see he didn’t mean to say it in a condescending manner. He sighed. “I was so eager to look for someone because I thought Y/n didn’t like me that I guess maybe I was happy that I felt such a pull to someone else.”

“Ha!” Da-hee cackled. “Jungkook, are you that dense?” He frowned. “Have you seen the way she looks at you?” Jungkook shook his head. Your roommate clicked her tongue. “You probably thought she saw something wrong with your face…”

“Probably.”

“I’m not going to speak for her but, you are stupid,” Da-hee clarified, placing a hand on the man’s head and patting it right before slapping it. “You made a mistake just because you are dumb.”

“Not dumb.” She gave him a pointed look and he looked away. “It wasn’t my fault. Just thinking about her not reciprocating the feelings I have for her—I guess it just hurt me. I felt like I needed to move on because I wouldn’t have been able to see Y/n happy with someone who wasn’t me. But I can’t help but admit it hurt like a bitch that she hasn’t talked to me. I didn’t expect it so soon.”

Da-hee looked at him, and she looked at him hard to the point it made him uncomfortable. He cleared his throat and looked away before staring down at her.

“What?”

She looked around the hall, making sure no one—you—was listening to what she was going to tell him. It wasn’t a big issue or something major, but just in case you were coming back with your group of friends.

“Y/n wasn’t sick. She was ignoring you for a reason.”

Jungkook frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Sumi came after your date,” Da-hee continued. “Y/n and I were watching a movie and Sumi came unexpectedly. Said you seemed distracted and that if you weren’t talking about Y/n, then you would be looking down at your phone. She thought you were talking to Y/n the entire time.”

“What the hell?” Jungkook scoffed out, his eyes showing the clear annoyance he was feeling. “I texted Y/n but it wasn’t for too long. I had texted her because Sumi came late to the date, sat down, and didn’t even try to talk to me. She was on her phone, too, so I asked Y/n if Sumi was always quiet. She said she was probably shy. Other than that, I was texting Namjoon.”

“But talking about her during your date Jungkook?”

“No, no, no,” he shook his head, hand waving off her words. “Sumi wasn’t talking after I would ask her a question. It would be plain and simple and I’d just sit there like an idiot. So, I knew we had something in common: you guys. Did you know she’s friends with that one girl who harassed Y/n?”

“I didn’t know,” she said. She frowned, too, with an expression that very much matched Jungkook’s. “I mean, she’s friends with other people, but the person that has been having an issue with all of us because she wants Y/n to herself? And Sumi was there for it all.”

Jungkook nodded before he sighed, placing his hands on his hips.

“What else did Sumi say?” He asked.

“Basically told Y/n to stop texting you because she was trying to get to know you and that she’s more like your girlfriend than she was?” Da-hee answered, trying her hardest to recite what Sumi said word by word. But there’s a reason why Da-hee never gets told important information. She forgets. Sometimes. “She wanted Y/n to distance herself from you and-!” She exclaimed as she remembered something, making Jungkook jump. “And, she said she would tell you!”

“She didn’t tell me shit,” Jungkook commented. He was pissed. Very pissed. He understood where Sumi came from, of course. He would’ve set boundaries with you if he knew he and Sumi were heading towards a serious relationship, but it wasn’t heading in a serious direction since she was not showing the effort he was showing. He knows how some girls felt about their boyfriend having a girl best friend, so he knew, hell, even you knew, that the things you two did together was a huge no. “I just… I don’t even know.”

Da-hee sighed. She shook her head and gave him one more look over. “Listen. I’ll do you a favor.” He immediately perked up at her words. “Our friend’s birthday is happening this weekend Saturday, 9 PM.” Jungkook nodded along. “I’ll send you the details and I’ll invite Y/n and will even have her wear the same outfit she wore last time to the club.”

“You know she doesn’t wear the same outfits to a club or party if others have seen it, right?” Jungkook commented with a frown. He knew your distaste of repeating the same outfit if you were even spotted wearing it. He didn’t know where that came from, but he knew you did not like it.

“Trust me, I’m her best friend.” Da-hee ignored his piercing glare once those words escaped her mouth. She waved him off. “Meanwhile, you need to cut things off with Sumi.”

“Already did.” She looked at him confusedly. “We hadn’t been texting at all so I, um, might’ve deleted her number.”

Jungkook could see the amusement on Da-hee’s face and gave her a small smile to display his innocence. Your friend, though, simply shook her head.

“You ghosted her?”

“It’s not much of ghosting when we weren’t texting at all.” Da-hee cursed the male existence in her head, especially Jungkook. “Don’t worry, I did message her that it wasn’t going anywhere, and she agreed so it’s not exactly ghosting.” Your roommate could see he was proud of himself. “I can easily express my feel—”

“You can’t.” Da-hee grabbed Jungkook’s phone away from his hands and easily unlocked it by typing in the numbers of your birthday as his pass code. Of course he would have your birthday, too. You had his. “We’re literally in this predicament because you thought Y/n didn’t like you.”

“Okay, okay, no need to call me out,” he mumbled under his breath, huffing. Though, he eyed his phone in Da-hee’s hands with suspicion and disbelief. “How did you unlock that?”

“Y/n’s birthday, duh,” Da-hee stated as if it was the most obvious thing, and it was. It would take an idiot to not know that your birthday is used as Jungkook’s passwords for everything. You even told her that Jungkook had your birthday as his pin for his debit card. “Anyway, I put in my phone number and saved it. Now, if you excuse me, I’m going to head to class.” She fixed her backpack over her shoulder. “Pretend that you weren’t here and I’ll pretend you weren’t here.”

He rapidly nodded and watched Da-hee leave.

However, before he left, he eyed your handwriting on the board and sighed.

“What am I gonna do with you?”

Saturday came by rather quickly, much to Jungkook’s surprise.

It hurt him physically to not be able to be with you and it hurt him mentally to not be around you at all. What was wrong with him? Is he really so in love with you it pained him to not be with you? To not talk to you? The answer was simple; yes.

“Hey!” Jungkook turned around at hearing someone yell for him and came to find one of your shared friends. “What are you doing here, man? I didn’t think you’d show.”

Jungkook shrugged and briefly looked around. “Just thought I’d stop by. Haven’t been to a house party in a while.”

Your guys’ friend laughed and nodded his head in agreement. He patted his shoulder and pointed towards where the kitchen was. “Y/n’s in there. You know where the bathroom is and remember, stay out of the rooms.”

Jungkook grinned. “No promises.”

“Asshole,” your friend teased before his head perked up at hearing the door open midst the loud music and chatter. “Well, got to go be a good host. Talk to you later, yeah?”

“Yeah, we need to talk about that new car I just saw outside that belongs to you,” Jungkook said, giving him a pointed look and a side hug. Your friend could only chuckle and bid him a goodbye.

Jungkook fixed his jacket and he was starting to hate the feeling of the humidity of the house due to the fact his jacket was starting to stick on his bare arms. He was wearing a tight white shirt—thankfully, he said no to the tank top Namjoon wanted him to wear—and some dark blue baggy jeans, along with the necklaces you had gifted him. Especially the one necklace that had your initial—you had given it to him as a joke.

“Oh.”

Sumi, who had unexpectedly shown up to hang with your friend group—much to Da-hee’s dismay—was the first one to see Jungkook. His frame was bigger than everyone’s and he stood out the most due his broad shoulders that had everyone looking. But despite the attention on him, his eyes looked everywhere for you until he spot the back of your head.

“What?” You questioned, frowning at the girl.

“Jungkook came to see me,” Sumi said, a smile spreading on her lips as she walked forward towards Jungkook, her shoulder bumping against yours rather harshly.

You glanced at them and looked back at Da-hee. “If I would’ve known he was going to be here, I would’ve stayed home.”

“He’s not here to see her,” Da-hee tried reassuring you, not wanting to admit that she knew Jungkook was going to be coming because she told him to do so. You would immediately jump her, even if she had good intentions.

“I’m going outside,” you started, gesturing towards the front door of the house. You pursed your lips. “It’s getting hot.”

“Okay…” Da-hee said while she and your friends watched you leave.

You walked off and Jungkook, having been busy with letting Sumi down gently, made eye contact with Da-hee once he looked up to look at you. He frowned, head moving side to side to see if he could spot you near him, though you were nowhere to be seen.

“Where is she?” He asked over the loud music blasting.

“She went outside!” Da-hee yelled, pointing to the back of your retreating figure.

He looked towards where she was pointing at and saw that you opened the front door of the house, phone in hand, clearly trying to make it seem like you were getting a call. It’s something you always did when you were feeling anxious in a space like you were in at the current moment.

He quickly followed after you, pushing past people to reach you.

He opened the door, head snapping side to side, hoping to catch a glance. He sighed in relief once he came to see you not so far from where he was, sitting on the sidewalk, on your phone.

He closed the door behind him and buried his hands in the pocket of his jacket before he made his way to you. Since the music was loud, his footsteps were silent, and he wasn’t surprised when you jumped a little once he went to sit next to you.

“What the hell?” You muttered, quickly shutting up once you came to see him. You faked a cough. “Sorry, I’m still sick and it’s highly contagious so you might want to—”

“Girl, don’t even start,” he scoffed out. You gave him a perplexed look at his choice of words.

You raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me? Fix that sassy tone, Jeon.”

He squinted his eyes. “Hell, no. Not until you fix that fucking attitude of yours.” You were about to deny your attitude before he cut you off. “You know damn well what I’m talking about. Ignoring me? Avoiding me? I understand if Sumi and I are dating but guess what? We’re not.”

“Whatever,” you stubbornly mumbled, looking away.

He rolled his eyes before placing a hand on the side of your face, making you look back at him.

You froze and gulped as the pad of his thumb brushed over your cheekbone rather softly. Yeah, you’re internally freaking out because what the fuck was happening?

“Instead of that bratty attitude,” he softly spoke with a tint of sternness, “can I explain?”

You inhaled and exhaled, shrugging. “I guess.” If only he could hear your thoughts, though, because you were freaking the fuck out you swore your body was heating up due to the embarrassment of the situation. Could he hear how quick your heart was beating?

“Sumi and I aren’t dating,” he began to explain, hand still on your cheek to have you looking at him. “We haven’t been. I know she told you to back away so we could get to know each other but, to be honest, she did not want to get to know me and was texting my friends instead, flirting with them.” He let out a sound between a hum and a scoff, and let go of your face. He leaned back against his hands. “Just to clarify, I am not upset in any way. She can do as she pleases, we’re not dating.”

“But, why did she tell me to distance myself from you?”

He shrugged. “Honestly, I have no idea.”

He stayed quiet and you did, too, because what were you supposed to say? “Hey, I ignored you, too, because I couldn’t bear seeing you with another girl when I’m sure I love you.” Yeah, no. What if he didn’t reciprocate your feelings and just thought of you as a sister? You would be embarrassed.

You bit your lower lip and looked down at your shoes once your brain became overwhelmed with your thoughts.

You stayed silent for a minute or two, hearing the wind and the music from inside.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered, almost as if he spoke any louder he would wake up the entire block. You glanced at him and he looked off, not wanting to make eye contact with you. “I barely survived a day without you, a week was torture.” He sighed, gulping. “I need you. More than anything. I… I couldn’t handle the way your absence impacted my life as if being without you made me struggle to breathe.”

“Jungkook…”

“What have you done to me?” He muttered out. “Why do you have my heart when I’m not even yours? Why am I in desperate need of your laughter and voice as if they’re the water I need after a long run in the sun? Goddamn it, baby…” Your heart clenched as he let out an annoyed sigh, glancing down at the floor. “It’s always been you. I confused you with Sumi.”

Your breath hitched in your throat at his words. “You-you did?”

“Da-hee showed me a picture of your outfit and it was yours I saw,” he said. He looked down at you before he turned his body to face you. He stood up and stuck out his hand for you to grab. You did so without hesitation and he grabbed you by the waist, leaving his hand there while the other held the side of your face. “I saw you. It’s always been you. The lack of connection I had with Sumi was because it was never her. I yearned for someone that wasn’t you and it pains me because you’re the one that I want.” He placed his forehead on yours, holding you tight. “Forgive me, sweet girl.”

Your eyes blurred with tears due to the overwhelming feeling.

“Why should I forgive you?” You whispered back. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Forgive me for trying to seek the connection we have,” he simply answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Forgive me for being an idiot. Everything.”

“But, you didn’t know because I didn’t tell you about my outfit,” you breathlessly said as he backed away to look down at you. “You didn’t know.”

“I should’ve,” he said. “I should’ve. I should’ve known. Sumi is a nice girl but she’s not you. She’ll make someone else happy, but you make me happy. I’ve been loving you for so long and I’m sorry it took this for me to realize it.”

Much to your surprise, he fell on his knees.

“Jungkook, get up,” you rushed out, falling with him. “It’s okay, I’m not mad.”

“You cried,” he said, looking at you. “You cried because I hurt you.” He placed his hand on your cheek again. “And it pains me.” He let out a shaky breath. “Even if you don’t love me, I hope you know your presence had impacted my life tremendously.”

You stayed quiet.

You stayed quiet because you thought about his words. The way he looked like hurting you was the biggest catastrophe that could happen.

You let out a shaky breath and kissed him because you really needed to feel him.

It took him a quick sec to kiss you back but he did, and he kissed you with such fervor it burnt your body.

You probably looked stupid kneeling on the grass but you didn’t care because kissing Jungkook was what you needed and he needed it, too.

“I love you just as much,” you said against his lips, backing away to pant. “I forgive you even if I’m not mad or upset anymore. It was never your fault and you didnt mean to hurt me. It’s okay.”

He broke into a smile as he heard your words before kissing you.

You softly chuckle, kissing him back. You shivered as the coolness of his lip ring hit your lips and the way his fingers gripped the skin of your waist.

“Be my girlfriend, please,” he pleaded, pecking your lips as he got out his words before he could get distracted again. “Please.”

You nodded. “I will.”

He grinned and kissed you before backing away.

He looked down at your guys’ knees, a chuckle escaping his mouth. He looked around and snorted once he came to find your friends peeking out from the curtain of the house to look at you two. They sheepishly smiled, quickly closing the curtains to give you two space.

He looked back at you and held out his hand, getting you off the ground.

As he opened his mouth to speak, you two heard the front door of the party house open, and Sumi came out… with Jimin. You and Jungkook looked at the two with amusement as they kissed on their way to Jimin’s car.

“Well, that’s nice,” you chuckled.

Jungkook nodded along with a smile. “I wish her luck.” He turned to look at you. “Let’s go back to my house and watch a movie while we talk about when we started having feelings for each other?”

You snorted and shook your head up and down.

“Lead the way.”