#at the gym and yet here he is looking all soft and cozy and boyfriend 😫🥺

[jongside]

[shixcherie]

Bathbombs & Little Deaths | Kim Hongjoong ☆

~ ~ call me chérie ☆

☆ Navigation | Kinktober List

☆ Day 02 : Praise, Body Worship

↬ [ Synopsis ] : What do bath bombs and little deaths (orgasms) have in common? When they burst, the aftermath is heavenly and ultra soothing. And HongJoong is here to give you both. Will you survive what Joongie has planned for you in the warmth of the bathtub, or experience a little death in the process?

Word Count : 2.4k Genre : Idol Au, Smut, Angst. Pairing : Boyfriend! HongJoong x F.Reader

WARNINGS : Pure smut (18+), a bit of plot, oral (fem recieving), bathub intimacy, use of jewelery (rings), dom/ sub undertones, multiple orgasms, bodyworship, praise, pet names (honey, baby, babygirl, angel ), mentions of alchol consumption, aftercare, nipple play.

Tag list OPEN! - let me know if you want to be tagged for this Kinktober list

☆☆☆ NOTE : Day 2 is here, ma chéries, and it’s a HongJoongie fic day! I’ve always wanted to write something involving a bathtub, so here I deliver. I may have gone a bit overboard with the word count, staying up late at night, so I hope you enjoy this pieceand shower it with alot of love.

Also, "Little Deaths" in French means "Orgasms." They’re called that because they’re so intense, it feels like you die and are reborn as a new person (a reference from Emily in Paris, S1).

Sorry for the long note, but here’s a glimpse of the bathroom (imagine it with more space for your hands) where our Y/N experiences her little deaths!

After the best album release and a power packed comeback..all Hongjoong wants is to relax in bath tub...with you of course.

Saying Hongjoong was on cloud nine would be an understatement. After pouring their blood, sweat, and tears into Ateez’s latest album, the concluding part of their The World series, the leader was incredibly happy and proud to see the album breaking records, winning numerous awards, and charting on global rankings. Most importantly, the Atiny were going loco for their title track "Crazy Form." The group had already celebrated officially with all the team members, but Hongjoong decided to throw a mini party just for the members, inviting their close friends to join in the celebration.

It was 2 in the morning, and finally, everyone had left after having a crazy yet cozy night. You and HongJoong had somehow managed to send San home since our little kitten had gone overboard and gotten a bit too drunk. It took Wooyoung and his girlfriend dragging him out while he babbled about protein, gym and working hard for atiny — our kitten was such a gym freak and fucking adobarble but extremely sincere idol that even in his drunken state, he couldn't stop declaring his love for atiny.

As you cleared the living room, making sure no one had left anything behind, you noticed Hongjoong was nowhere to be seen.You paused for a moment, listening to the quiet house, the faint sound of water running upstairs catching your attention. A small smile appeared on your face, already knowing where Hongjoong is, you made your way upstairs, to your shared bedroom. When you reached the bathroom door, you could see yellow glow of candles peaking through the door, you both loved scented candles and night baths, so having them in you bathroom was a must.

Hongjoong looked up as you entered, his sleeves rolled up while he dissolved your favorite vanilla lavender bath bomb. A soft smile spread across his lips. "I thought you might like a relaxing bath," he said, standing up and walking over to you. His hands slid around your waist, gently pulling you closer.

You felt the tension of the evening start to melt away just from his touch. “You read my mind,” you murmured, your hands resting on his chest.

“After tonight, I think we both deserve it.” he replied.

You could feel his heart beating steadily beneath your fingertips, a calming rhythm that matched your own.

He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “Come on,” he whispered , “let’s get you out of those clothes.”

You smiled, letting him help you undress. His fingers were gentle as he worked your clothes, guiding them down your legs. Once you were both undressed, Hongjoong stepped into the tub first, holding out a hand to help you in. The water was perfectly warm, enveloping you like a soft blanket.You settled between his legs, your back pressed against his chest as his arms wrapped snugly around you, pulling you even closer. The water rippled gently around your bodies, infused with the sweet scent of your favorite vanilla and lavender bath bomb, now fully dissolved, creating a soothing, fragrant haze in the tub.

You could feel his breath against your neck, his lips brushing your shoulder with a soft kiss. You sighed and leaned back into him. While his lips decorated your neck with butterfly kisses, his hands were busy massaging your breasts, occasionally pinching your nipples. His cold silver rings added another layer of stimulation, sending sparks throughout your body. Eventually, his tender lips made their way to your ear, nibbling on your earlobe. “Thanks for tonight, love. Without your help, this party wouldn’t have been possible,” he whispered, his mouth now kissing the most sensitive spot behind your ear, which instantly turned you on.

“I’d do anything to see you happy, Joong. But if you really want to thank me, I can think of a few ways we could make tonight even better…” Your head leaned back on his shoulder. You were extremely turned on at this point, and the ache between your legs was proof of it.

“Mmm-hmm,” he hummed, slightly biting the skin below your ear. You winced with equal parts pain and pleasure, eventually succumbing entirely to pleasure as Joong’s hand traveled down south while his other hand was busy playing with your left nipple. His rings left a trail of goosebumps whenever they came into contact with your skin.

“Have a few things planned for you, babygirl,” he whispered, his thumb now busy rubbing up and down your entrance, his platinum ring on his middle finger coming into contact with your pulsating core, collecting your slick to gently make circles on your clit. A tremble passed through your entire body. You never knew a few silver rings could stimulate this much. Each touch on the sensitive nub and the cold metal contact had you jolting a little, and you could feel your eyes begin to well up with tears because of the stimulation.

“Joong, please…” your bottom lip was between your teeth, fully flustered by the way his hands and lips were miraculously working on your body.

“Does that feel good baby ?” he asks.

You sigh “feels so good” that last part comes more like a whine.

“You wanna cum, honey?” he asks again, his digits moving faster now, rubbing your entrance, slick juices leaking onto his digits and coating his silver rings. You were extremely wet and desperate for a release, responding to him with a breathy moan. Suddenly, his movements stopped, all at once earning a whiny whimper from you. He quickly took a lick of his fingers, where your juices coated and glistened on his shiny rings.

You twist your body to face him. “Joong, I need yo—” he smashed his lips to yours, hands cupping your face as you melted into the kiss, tasting yourself mixed with his saliva. Your hand traveled to his neck, pulling him impossibly close as you deepened the kiss. Your body twisted fully toward him, never breaking the intense, firework-like kiss you two were sharing.

Breaking the kiss after who knows how long, he took a moment to admire your face. A red blush decorated your flushed cheeks, your puffy cherry-red lips looking more inviting with every passing microsecond, and an angelic glow coated your whole face, causing a volcanic eruption of emotion in Hongjoong’s chest.

The moment not only made Hongjoong’s cock twitch from desire, given how turned on he was at that very fucking moment, but his heart ached with so much love for you. The only way to put this feeling into words was to either write a whole freaking album about you or fuck you till eternity. Only one of these could satisfy the fire blazing through his entire body.

For now, Joong decided to go with the latter, letting his desire take the lead.

“Can you sit on the surface, baby?” he asked, helping you stand and eventually guiding you to lay on the island, your elbows propping up your body. Your legs remained in the water as Hongjoong settled comfortably between them. Gently opening your legs, his lips found their way to your smooth thighs. He had always admired your thighs for how soft they were, but right now, he was needed somewhere else—somewhere very urgent and aching for his tongue.

But Joong planned on savoring you little by little, and sleep was not on tonight’s schedule, so he was in no hurry. His mouth coated the inside of your thighs with gentle kisses, occasionally surprising you with playful bites, reminding you how much of a switch he could be. Sweet kisses trailed their way to your aching core, where you needed him the most. Your world was spinning, and all you could do was encourage him with your needy moans.

He took a micro moment to admire your glistening core, shining and waiting eagerly for him to devour. Wasting no time, he gave a gentle yet thorough lick of your core, just to taste and satisfy his anticipation. The taste short-circuited his brain, your sweet juices inviting him to feast.

He dove in deeper, his tongue exploring your glistening core, savoring the sweet juices that turned him on while his unattended cock hardened with desire. Each teasing flick sent shivers through your body, pushing you closer to the edge.

“Joong…ahh...oh my god, keep going, please,” you whimpered, urging him to go on. He responded by intensifying the swirling of his tongue over your most sensitive spots and switching to suck on your bud, driving you wild. The world around you faded; all that existed was him and the intoxicating pleasure he was giving you at that very moment.

“Almost there, baby; I can feel you coming,” he murmured, his voice vibrating against your skin. “Give it to me, baby. I want to taste every bit of you.” With one final swirl and a harsh suck on your clit, the knot in your stomach snapped, and you cried out his name as waves of ecstasy washed over you. Your body arched, trembling under the force of your release.

He didn’t stop, eager to drink the last drops of you, his mouth still working its magic. “You taste divine, honey,” he grinned, pulling back to admire your blissful expression. “You’re absolutely perfect, and I can’t get enough of you.” The satisfaction was clear in his eyes as he enjoyed your pleasure drunk face.

Was he done with you tho, heck no…not so early.

While you recovered from the high, he swiftly got out of the tub, grabbing the towels from the shelves and laying them on the bath island for you to get comfortable. As you moved onto the fluffy towel, he made himself comfortable on top of you, not fully crushing you but putting just the right amount of weight to maintain that sensual feeling. Somewhat recovered from your high and realizing the position you both were in, you gently wrapped your legs around his waist. A swift pull brought his lower body entirely onto you, his cock settling perfectly on your core. Your toes curled at the sudden contact with his hardened dick.

He settled his face between your boobs, kissing the center, eventually taking your right boob in his mouth. His hands balanced his upper body while his dangerously skilled tongue swirled around your nipple, sucking and biting, erupting pleasure throughout your entire body.

With each suck on your nipple, soft gasps escaped your lips, your body arching into him as pleasure radiated from your chest. “Oh, Joong, that feels so good,” you moaned, your fingers tangling in his hair, tugging at his roots and earning a groan from him. His mouth worked its magic, his warm tongue swirling around your sensitive yet now hard nipples, sending electric shivers through you.

He took his time, alternating between gentle nibbles and deep, hungry sucks, each sensation earning soft whimpers from you. “Mmm, just like that,” you encouraged, feeling the heat rise in your core with every tug of his lips. The way he lavished attention on your breasts ignited a fire deep within, leaving you breathless.

“God, you’re perfect,” he murmured against your skin, his tongue dancing playfully, devouring your soft breasts before pulling away just enough to tease. You felt a rush of heat as his eyes flicked up to meet yours, a mischievous gaze adorning his face.

The weight of his body pressed down on you, the heat radiating against yours driving you wild. “More, please,” you whisper begged, in a sultry tone.

“Want more, baby? Are you ready for me?” he teased while positioning himself at your entrance. “Hold on tight,” he murmured, giving you one last teasing kiss before shifting his weight, his hardened length pressing against your soft skin, ready to push inside you. The anticipation was mind-numbing, and you could hardly contain your excitement.

“Please, Joong,” you whimpered, feeling every inch of him as he hovered at your entrance, desire clouding your mind. “I need you.”

Wasting no time, he slowly began to push inside, stretching you deliciously. A gasp escaped your lips as he filled you, every inch sending waves of pleasure through your body. “You feel so good, baby” he breathed, sinking deeper and deeper; it was painfully pleasurable.

With a steady rhythm, he began to thrust, each movement earning soft moans from you. “Oh, Joong, yes!” you gasped, your fingers digging into his back, encouraging him to go faster. The room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, a sultry melody that resembled ATEEZ’s alluring and catchy beats.

He quickened his pace, his thrusts becoming more urgent, guiding you to the edge. “You like that, baby?” he rasped, his voice low and filled with desire. You nodded, lost in the pleasure, the heat pooling in your core.

“I'm close, Joong” you breathed, your vision almost blurry, on the brink of seeing stars, both literally and figuratively. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a heated kiss, swallowing your cries as the tension peaked.

“Cum for me, baby” he urged, his thrusts becoming merciless, pushing you over the edge. Pleasure washed over you as you cried out his name, your body trembling beneath him.

With a few more deep thrusts, his release came, a low “fuck” escaping his lips as he spilled inside you, pushing both of you over the edge. Those bath bombs and little deaths truly marked the end of you both, leaving you breathless and satisfied. Hearts racing, you lay together as the world around you faded, leaving only the sweet memory of the moment shared.

You checked the time on the wall clock; it was about 5:30 AM in the morning, the sun almost about to rise. After laying down together for a few more minutes, Hongjoong helped you clean up. The morning rays made their way into the bathroom from the large windows of your bedroom.

As you both stepped out of the bathroom, the morning sunrise greeted you both. Basking in the rays for a few seconds, Hongjoong said, “I love you, baby. I love you so much” as he looked at the sun outside, a warm feeling spreading throughout your body. “I love you too, Joong” you replied, a smile dancing across your lips as you reached to kiss his cheek. He smiled earnestly at you.

“And now we sleep, baby. I need my eight hours to handle Wooyoung’s tantrums in the office” he chuckled as he mentioned his teammate. A menance Wooyoung’s face crossed your mind. Closing the curtains, he dragged you onto the bed, and you both fell into a blissful sleep.

~ ~ Chérie ☆ signin’ off

Disclaimer : This is totally fictional and not a real depiction of the ATEEZ members. It's all just for fun only so please don’t take anything seriously and keep the mood light around here.

© ShixCherie.

[ariendiel]

Requesting a relationship headcanon for Lucas x Noah. I see their tag once from ao3 if I recall 👀

Yessss, I'm so here for this! I'm actually shocked I haven't written these before (there are probably references to Nocas/Lucah on my blog, but I'm not going on a hunt ksjdksjd). Anyways, here you go, anon 🤍

Lucas x Noah Relationship Headcanons

Noah is definitely chill when it comes to his sexuality, and I don't think Lucas has any strict rules either, so this could for sure work. Not sure how they'd get together though, but they're both beautiful and with an eye for beauty so... I can imagine them just chatting after a reunion party, bemoaning being left alone and then just having a moment, looking at each other and then... well, the rest is history.

Lucas is definitely the least likely to want to commit out of the two of them, whereas Noah gets very attached after s*x, which I think could cause some initial drama. Yet Noah is also very calm, conflict shy, and not dramatic at all, which will probably make Lucas less panicked.

The things they could learn from each other... Both in bed and out of it. They both enjoy intimacy and high quality, which translates to hot s*x and the most gorgeous shared wardrobe (Noah is taller, but they definitely share jumpers and t-shirts, as well as accessories).

Instead of being a mean gay couple, they'd be a sort of good cop, bad cop gay couple: Noah being the good cop, and Lucas being the bad one – at least in public 😏

I'm not sure how Lucas' family would react to him coming out and bringing his boyfriend home, but Noah's family? Oh they'd adore Lucas. Noah's sister would for sure want to go shopping with Lucas, and Noah's brother will want to join them in the gym and use them to pull birds lol

I think Lucas loves nice meals and good wine, as does Noah. Unlike Lucas though, Noah actually cooks and he does it well. I imagine Noah cooking as Lucas gets home, happy to have Lucas help him as they open a nice bottle of wine to share. It's warm, cozy, and so soft, and I think they both crave that in their lives.

Where do I think they'd clash? Kids. Noah wants a family, but Lucas doesn't want kids, and I'm not sure that's something they could compromise on because we're talking about a new life here. However, I'll leave it to you all reading this to decide how you'd think it'd go!

Friendships and relationships headcanons masterpost

[zealoushound]

Those Thighs Though...

Summary: Seeing him in his MuscleTech gear, you can’t resist Henry. Or his thighs.

Pairing: Henry Cavill x reader

Word Count: 1265

Warnings: RPF, thigh kink, thigh riding, brief descriptions of bodily fluids, dom!reader, sub!henry, orgasm denial, bratty moments, slight exhibitionism

A/N: @cavillsthighs post inspired allllll of this. I don’t own Henry Cavill, still hurts no matter how many times I write it I don’t own muscletech or the pic used here. I stole it from Tori lol.

Disclaimer: FEEL FREE TO REBLOG IF YOU LIKE THE STORY! Writers live off reblogs! Do not copy any portion of my material to claim as your own. Do not repost my work, or any portions of my work on any site and claim it as your own. Like all my other fics, this was written on my phone and not beta’d.

***

You’re waiting for Henry to get changed before the photo shoot in MuscleTech’s makeshift dressing room.

It’s not a huge room, but it has a cozy setup. Bathroom to the left of the mini fridge and table. Television on the wall in front of the couch you currently occupy. Inspirational workout photos on the walls and fitness magazines on the table in the middle of the room.

Playing on your phone you hear Henry come in but pay him no mind as you hear the photographer call out, “Just change into this, and meet us in the gym in 20.”

“Ok!” He answers, closing the door behind him. As he walks by you he playfully slaps the bottom of your foot off the pillow it was resting on.

“Hey!” You whine, annoyed with him messing up your concentration.

“Look alive, beautiful.” He smiles at you going into the bathroom with his clothes. You smile back as you shake your head.

“What are you changing into?”

“Ah. Shorts and a tank?” He doesn’t bother shutting the door so you lean to sneak a peek.

“I see London. I see France. I see Henry’s underpants!” You taunt.

He laughs heartily causing you to laugh with him. A few moments later he’s changed and ready to go but still has 15 minutes to kill.

“Gimme some room.” He paws at your foot again. You groan, moving to let him sit. Then you see what he’s wearing.

Black tank. Short black shorts. His curls were particularly unruly today. His muscles were bulging in all the right places, taking over your entire being.

The uncontrollable noise that escaped you must have been louder than you thought because he looked at you, eyebrows raised, cocking his head to the side.

Your immediate thought was ‘mine’. A primal urge took over you. You were feral.

“Sit.” You commanded. Your breathing had gotten shallow and it was all you could do to keep from baring your teeth to your poor unsuspecting boyfriend.

“What?” That smirk on his face said he had heard you, but he was tempting you.

Your eyes widened, your nostrils flaring. “Henry. Sit down. Now.” Your heart was racing, your body was on fire. Shit, you’re kinda glad you missed the morning portion of the shoot. He wouldn’t have survived this long.

“Make me.” He smirked. Oh, you cocky little shit.

You get up, crossing the short distance to him. He doesn’t put up a fight, he wants you just as bad. You reach down to feel him though the thin fabric of his shorts. He’s about halfway there but getting harder with each pull across his clothed member.

His eyes fluttered. “You wanna cum? Good boys get to cum. Now sit. Your ass. Down, Henry.” You wanted him so damn bad that you put your hands on his shoulders and shoved him down onto the couch.

He grunted softly as the wind left his lungs. He stared as you worked your leggings off and shucked off your shirt, leaving you in nothing but your bra. You needed to feel his hands on your bare skin.

His hands reached to pull you on top of his lap. “No. You wanna be a brat? Now you get to wait.” He lets out a low growl that you feel deep in your soaked core. “Hold that thought.” You say before climbing onto his thigh.

He pulls the leg of his shorts up towards his hip giving you more access to his thigh.

“You wanna cum?” He doesn’t speak, just grunts and nods a meek yes to your question. You chuckle softly, “mmm”.

You moan as you rock yourself against his hard muscles. Gripping his shoulder you start to thrust yourself against him. Henry’s huge hands tugged on your bra, threatening to break it in half.

It wouldn’t be the first bra he’d torn or broken. He loves seeing your breasts, no matter the cost. He cups them, squeezing them in his huge paws and swipes his tongue in between. Roughly he sucks your nipple into his mouth. Letting go, his other hand grips your ass, coaxing you to go faster.

He flexes his thigh underneath you. “Ah, Henry. I’m so close.” Your body jolts at his actions as your clit glides across his hard flesh. He waits for just the right time to do it again.

When you're panting, gripping tighter on his biceps he knows you’re right on the edge. He keeps waiting. He knows you need just a little push. He loves watching you. Loves seeing you like this, your wetness spreading over his leg. More and more and more as you cum.

Your mouth is open. Your hips are rolling over and over, faster and faster. Head tilted back, eyes shut tightly, frustration on your brow. This will get him back in your good graces. He knows it.

He flexes.

Once. The risk of getting caught by god knows who all those people are, right outside your door, the thought of them hearing you. “Oh God!”

Twice. The way he makes you feel so fucking wild, and his damn thighs! You can never last long riding them. “Fuck!”

Boom!! You see stars on the third. “God! Henry! Yes!! Oh!” You cum so hard for him. Digging your nails into arms you hope you don’t leave a mark, but ‘fuck it’, you thought, ‘this is mine!’ You shout his name over and over as your hips stutter and quake with pleasure.

You lay across his chest feeling your heart wanting to beat free from its confines, panting hard as you come down from your high. You raise up and place a kiss on his neck.

Getting up you fix yourself back inside your bra, grab your shirt and walk into the bathroom. Coming back out you toss him a towel. Pulling your leggings on as he cleans himself up you hear a soft knock at the door.

“Um. Mr. Cavill,” poor guy definitely just heard all of that yet still had to do his job and fetch your boyfriend. “They’re, uh, they’re ready for you. Sir.”

Henry was staring at you. He didn’t speak a word. He stood, readjusting himself to make his prominent member less... noticeable.

Still saying nothing he strode up to you. His thumb grazed your cheek just below your eye. Bringing his finger down he tipped your chin up so your lips met in a gentle kiss. Your heart skipped. He leaned back.

“Tonight?” He was asking in a way that didn’t quite reveal his true intentions. He was really asking if you would be so kind as to let him make up for his mistake. Make his journey over to the gym slightly less painful.

“Tonight.” You generously answered. He smiled. He flung open the door to the dressing room and you saw the little man that had come to collect MuscleTechs biggest spokesman. He was short, a little on the smaller side. He was kind of cute, in an adorable kind of way. He wore wire rimmed glasses and reminded you of a younger Rick Moranis.

You smiled at him. He adjusted his glasses and stood a little straighter as he smiled back.

Henry walked past him, smile no longer in place. He was about to take all that frustration out in this photo shoot.

“Not unless you wanna be walking funny, lad.” You laughed at how scared the poor guy looked as he looked away, not realizing what Henry meant was having to force his colossal cock underneath the waistband of his shorts.

***

Tag list: (As always if you want on or off please let me know!)

@littlefreya @foodieforthoughts @wendimydarling @nuggsmum @captainsy-cookiemonster @summersong69 @oddduckthatgirl @winter2112rose @ysmmsy @christhickevans @ladycavillry @mary-ann84 @twhstuckylover @cavills-little-princess @luclittlepond @beck07990 @eldarwen333 @littlebirdofrivia @themaskismyface @enchantedbytomandhenry @supermamabear123 @diegos-butt @atomicsoulcollecto @alexakeyloveloki @kebabgirl67 @cynic-spirit @cavillsthighs @janenyfl @pixie88 @sillyrabbit81 @littlewrenofrivia @viking-raider

[writteninkat]

Forever and Always | Bakugou x Reader

summary: "And I stare at the phone, he still hasn't called. And then I feel so low I can't feel nothing at all. And I flashback to when he said forever and always."

w/c: 2.1k

warnings: angst

a/n: i cried while writing this.

navigation

Eijirou's body is amazing; scultped abs, hard chest, chiseled arms and such broad shoulders. You watched as he did pull ups in front of you, with his back facing towards you. He lets go of the bars, turning around, smiling as he extends his hand. "Babe, can you pass me my towel please?"

"Babe, can you pass me my towel please?" Katsuki asks, sweat dripping down the side of his head, trailing down his neck, collar and chest before getting absorbed in his black tank top.

You throw him his towel, standing up from the bench. You lean forward, standing on your tippy toes to press your lips against his. The blond chuckles breathily, pouting a little, pressing his lips against yours.

Butterflies swarmed your tummy and you feel your heart skip a beat. This always happened whenever you kissed Katsuki. No matter how many times you've kissed him and no matter how long the both of you had been dating, he never failed to give you butterflies.

You feel someone step in front of you, snapping you out of your daze. You blink, looking up at the red head who's now taking his towel on his own.

"Ah, sorry babe. What were you saying?" You ask to which Eijirou shakes his head at. "It's okay, I got it." He wipes the sweat off his face, smiling brightly at you.

"Anyway, do you wanna go to that old ice cream parlor beside here? They don't have new flavors since like five years ago but I thought you might like a cone."

"I wanna go to that ice cream place beside the here." You pout, disregarding just how sweaty your boyfriend was as you wrap your arms around his waist, pulling him closer. "That's a bad habit, idiot. Stop pigging out right after hitting the gym." He laughs, flicking your forehead to which you knit your eyebrows at.

"Oh come on! They have a new flavor called 'blueberry cheesecake'! We should totally try it!" You whine, watching as your boyfriend packs his things in his gym bag. "You've eaten a blueberry cheesecake before, haven't you? Just imagine that but colder."

Despite what he said, he opens the door to the ice cream parlor for you. Sweat gone, the both of you had showered and changed your clothes before entering the cozy ice cream parlor.

The both of you sit by the window, looking out and enjoying the beautiful scenery of the mountains right behind the store.

You look back at your boyfriend who's sitting right in front of you, supposedly to tell him about the pretty bird you just saw, but stop once you saw how pretty he looked when he wasn't frowning or yelling.

Calm, softly smiling Katsuki Bakugou looking out and appreciating the beauty of nature. Your heart throbbed at the thought of how lucky you are to have him. Despite his harsh and loud nature towards others, he always gave off a different vibe when it came to you. He was much gentler, more careful with his choice of words and his actions.

His eyes flick towards you and he raises a brow. "Take a picture, it will last longer."

You smile, opening up your gallery to show off the many, many pictures you have of him stored in a secret album. You smile cheekily at him, "Already have a ton, thank you very much."

Katsuki smiles, chuckling as he shakes his head. "Idiot."

"Babe? You okay? You've been out of it since I asked you to hand me my towel, did I say something wrong?" You snap out of your daze once again, cursing at yourself. You look up at your boyfriend, smiling as you shake your head.

"I'm sorry, I think I need to head home and sleep. You have a meeting an hour from now, right? You should go." You press a kiss against Eijirou's cheek, smiling at him. "I'll wait for you at home."

You walk out of the gym, bag on your shoulder as you take a deep breath of fresh air in. You look up at the sky, frowning to see them all gray and cloudy. You begin walking down the road, looking around you.

The stores from before hadn't change at all. Especially-

"Ah! If it isn't my dear Y/n! Will you buy your usual caramel ice cream today too?" The old lady who runs the ice cream shop chirps at you, hands shaking as she grabs onto her cane to prevent herself from falling over.

"Granny! You know you can't be walking around, the doc said so!" Her granddaughter's voice is filled with concern as she places a hand below granny's elbow and on her back. She looks up at you, smiling apologetically.

"Sorry, I guess Alzheimer's also makes her forget she can't walk properly now?" She jokes, chuckling awkwardly. You smile, bowing your head.

You walk right past the ice cream parlor, oblivious to granny's pout to your declination of her invite. You stuff your hands in your pocket, looking up at the sky as you sigh. Before you know it, your gaze falls upon the top of your apartment building.

"I'm home! And guess what I got you!" You chirp, entering your apartment as you hold the white plastic bag full of food in your hand. The sound of quick padded footsteps make you giggle as you set the bag oncthe counter.

Katsuki appears right in front the kitchen, excited eyes and a wide grin across his face making you laugh. He quickly rummages through the contents of the bag, yelling in excitement as he pulls out a red ramen cup.

"Hell yeah, extra spicy!" He cheers, running over to you to pull you into a tight hug. "Thanks babe!" He presses multiple kisses on the top of your head before pulling away to start boiling his water.

"Hey! It's not even dinner time yet!" You jokingly frown, crossing your arms in front of your chest. You loved Seeing Katsuki like this; all bubbly and cheery and excited. Such a sweet and bright soul, you come to a conclusion that yes, you are definitely going to love this boy forever.

You walk right past the kitchen, body feeling heavy as you make your way inside your shared bedroom. You drop your bag onto the carpeted floors and find your legs leading you towards your walk-in closet.

You bend down, pulling out a locked box from underneath your hung clothes. You sit on the floor, pressing on the code to unlcok the box before pulling the lif open.

The contents inside caused your heart to clench.

Butterfly pins.

"Idiot, what are you doing?" Katsuki frowns, tilting his head up to look at you. Your brows knit together as you push his head back, forcing him to face front. "I'm making your hair pretty!" You huff, clipping on the butterfly pins onto his hair.

"My hair's already damn pretty even without the stupid hairpins!" He argues.

"Then I'm making it prettier so sit still!"

"Tsk," Katsuki rolls his eyes, "Then you better do an amazing job. Don't mess up, idiot."

"That'll be pretty hard to accomplish if you keep moving your darn head like that!"

"Hah?! What did you just say to me?!"

Sumigadawa Fireworks Festival Polaroid

"Quit tugging, idiot!" Katsuki yells but remains ignored as you push through the crowd. The fireworks display was going to start soon but you wanted to enjoy a Taiyaki as you watched the display.

You jump excitedly in place, still tugging at your boyfriend's sleeve as you pointed as the sweet snack. Katsuki sighs, pulling out his wallet. The both of you end up buying two pieces, one for each of you.

As you move to start going back to where the field was, Katsuki pulls you back. You lift a brow at him and he begin pulling you to the opposite direction, now it was him dragging you.

"Suki, where are we going? The fireworks display will start soon!" You yell through the loud crowd of people. "Tsk. I know, idiot. Just trust me!" He yells, as he continues pulling you towards a place with a bunch of trees. The two of you walk up a hil for quite some time and as you reached the top, you're panting and you can feel your back dampening at the sudden work out.

"What the heck are we-" The sound of fireworks cut you off. You immediately turn to your right, following the direction of the sound. Your eyes widen as a clear view of the fireworks explode in front of you.

As you stare up at the brightly colored night sky in awe, Katsuki smiles at your dumb face. The colors of the fireworks lit your face ever so beautifully. How did he get so lucky to have you?

Your hand grabs onto his arm as your other one points up at the sky, "Look! Look! That one's pretty!" You point at a pink one slowly disappearing into the night sky.

"Hah! Bet I can create better ones." Katsuki shows off.

"Oh really? Prove it."

And just like that, he opens his palm in front of you a small explosions are created, just like the fireworks. You smile, watching it was similar to watch a snow globe after shaking it.

As your eyes continue to watch Katsuki's mini fireworks, he oulls you out of your daze by cupping your cheek. You look up at him, raising your brows before smiling, leaning in.

His lips are soft, sweet and warm. You never want to part from them.

A Promise Ring.

/"Why won't you fucking listen to me?!" You yell from the top of your lungs, feeling them burn as your tears scortched your cheeks.

"There are already enough heroes out there! You don't need to go-"

"I need to, Y/n! God fucking dammit I need to! Because I'm a hero! Because it's my job, it's my duty to keep people safe. To risk my life keeping you all safe!" Katsuki yells back, slamming his suit case close as you stand there in front of him, weak and helpless.

"Izuku said your chances of surviving the war would be-"

"Baby, baby, look at me." Katsuki shushes, cupping your cheeks. He wipes your tears away as he looks into your eyes, red orbs looking back at you. Soft, gentle and hurt red orbs look back at you. "I'll be fine." He whispers.

You place your hands on top of his, closing your eyes as you let your tears fall, your lower lip shaking as you let out an unever breath. Katsuki presses his lips on your forehead, wrapping his arms around you.

"Take off your ring." He says, pulling away from the hug. You do as told, face still flushed as you haven't finished crying yet. With shaky hands, you take off your ring.

"Look inside it." Katsuki mutters.

You do as told, feeling your heart clench in your chest.

"What does it say?" He asks.

"Forever and always."

You sob on the floor, bringing your legs up to your chest as you recall the feeling of your world crushing the second you heard the news from Izuku.

Your body grew heavy as you fell to your knees, your tears streaming down your chest at his pained expression. He crouches down, placing a hand on your shoulder. You sobbed, and sobbed, and sobbed, so loud your throat hurt.

Katsuki was your world. He meant everything to you. Now that he was gone, what do you have left to lose?

"He promised me!" You yell from the top of your lungs, "He promised to call me as soon as he was done! Why didn't he call?! Why hasn't he called yet?!" Your head throbbed as Izuku's geip on your shoulder tightened.

It wasn't just you who had lost a loved one, him and all your other friends, too. You banged your fist against your chest as you sobbed heavily, finding it difficult to breath, to take in the information that Katsuki was gone.

"I told him! I told him not to go!" You yelled right at Izuku, holding onto his shoulders. "Katsuki! My Katsuki! He's gone!" The pain you felt is unbearable, it's something you can't understand, it's something you never want to experience again.

"You promised me, forever and always!" You yell from the top of your lungs. "Where are you now? Why aren't you beside me? Where's my forever with you?" You sobbed, your tears streaming down your cheeks uncontrollably.

As you cry out your frustrations and anguish in one room, Eijirou sits in another room, face wet with his tears as he blubbered in the memory of his best friend.

It's times like these that you agree to David Jones; life went on, but it was never the same again.

[netsumu]

argentina was a new place for you to visit but you don't really mind. after all, you have oikawa beside you.

the both of you started in quite a rocky place, it was hard when you come to a foreign place without knowing anyone.

yet, you and oikawa managed to find a cozy apartment which was close to your work and the gymnasium oikawa frequently visited.

placing down your belongings, you opened the door to your room, eyes widening at the sight in front of you.

there your boyfriend sat at the edge of your bed, hands repeatedly wiping his tears.

"hey.. tooru?"

instantly, his head looked up to meet yours.

usually, he would clear his throat and wipe his tears, avoiding the fact he just broke down with a joke. and if you ever brought up that incident, he would change the topic and try to flirt with you so you would ignore it.

but right now, he looked at you with this vulnerable eyes, weak and tired and ready to give up any moment.

slowly, you walked towards him, arms opening to give him something to rely on as he sobbed onto your shirt.

no words were exchanged between the two of you. just him sitting down, hands circling your waist and head buried deep in your stomach. some sobs and sniffles were heard from him to which you gently pat his head.

"y/n-chan.. are you.. are you gonna leave me?"

"never. i'm never leaving you no matter what," you firmly assured.

he looked up at you, lips wobbling and nose red from all the crying.

you looked at him lovingly, lips meeting to kiss his forehead and soft gently fingers running through his hair.

that's when he broke down even more.

oikawa tooru would never admit this to anyone, not even you, that this.. this weak and exposed side is only for you to see.

he would never tell anyone how grateful he is to have you, to have someone that would patiently wait outside of the gym with a snack in hand.

he's prideful but for you, his pride is nothing more than just an accessory, something he can put aside any moment.

he always has prioritized volleyball over anything in his life, including his health. which is why, he appreciates your effort in staying him for so long and reassuring him multiple times of how he is enough

he's rough around the edges, and some might dislike him on the first meeting, annoyed at his strong personality. but not you, the moment you met to the moment you moved to argentina together, you never left despite the harsh words he spewed at you.

you stayed.

you supported his dream when no one would and you scold him, repeatedly reminding that his health is very important.

you took care of him on his lowest and lift him up even if it seemed impossible to everyone, you just seem to manage to do it, every time.

in your eyes, he's the best person there is for you, oikawa tooru is the one you'd stay with to the end of time.

to him, that's scary as fuck, scary yet tender. having someone that is there for you, the only pillar you have, and the one that you open to see the darkest ugliest parts.

but every time he thought you were leaving, you proved oikawa that you are there in the long line.

"tooru, baby.. i know i've said this over and over again but let me repeat. you're enough and always will be to me, you don't have to be like others to be enough. tooru?" you looked down, shocked at the sudden feeling of his soft kisses

"just stay. stay and don't go. i'm not asking, i'm demanding," he stood up to cup your cheeks

"i don't need anything y/n, not even volleyball anymore. i just need you, if you asked me to leave volleyball right here right now, i would," he chuckled.

"don't, keep holding on to volleyball, i won't go anywhere. i'll be right beside you, okay?"

feeling content with this, you smiled, closing the distance between the both of you.

oikawa tooru knows he's enough.

even if it wasn't to everyone or even himself, he's enough to you

and he suppose, that's the only thing that matters

as an oikawa kinnie, i want this.

[rubykgrant]

“It’s right over there...” Grif nodded in the direction he wanted them to go.

This was an interesting park; it had different areas, some of them flat and open grass for people who wanted to start a game where they kicked a ball around, some of them flower beds with fountains and benches, some of them almost like taking a walk in the woods. Grif’s destination was down a little brink walkway, where there was a courtyard that overlooked a ledge, with hanging plants growing up metal garden arbors.

Simmons came right along, letting Grif lead the way. As they passed under the arch of leaves and flowers, Grif glanced at his boyfriend’s face, and was satisfied to see an expression of bright interest (he was hoping for this reaction, because this area of the park was like stepping into a scene from a fairytale... it was easier to let yourself get all sentimental and romantic when the person you were with appreciated it).

Together, they walked to the stone railing, and looked down. Far below them was a field with several small gazebos, and one large amphitheater. It was there that drew Simmons’ attention, because a group of musicians and performers had gathered. Grif’s attention was still on him... the way he looked in the soft evening light, the way the gentle breeze was sweeping his hair across his forehead, the way he was smiling like an excited kid. All kinds of fond feelings twisted in Grif’s chest... and he was starting to enjoy having butterflies so often.

“How did you find this place?” Simmons asked.

“Well, while you were off having your family crisis, and I was dealing with being super extra depressed, um... Sarge actually started forcing me to go on walks with him in the morning,” no that WAS a little embarrassing, but Grif’s done trying to put up a front anymore.

“And don’t start apologizing again, I’m not telling you this to guilt-trip you. Anyway, he was making me walk around outside with him, something about how I’d get bed-sores and start growing fungus if I just stayed in bed forever, and one time we found this little corner of the park. I started coming back here on my own in the evenings, because it’s kind of a cool spot. Back then I thought about how, like... if I got to hang out with you again, I’d want to show it to you... so yeah. Here we are,”

Simmons listened intently as Grif talked, and held back his urge to say how sorry he was... he still hates himself a little for the way things happened. This moment isn’t about all that, though; this was about Grif wanting to share something with Simmons, and he was NOT going to ruin it with left-over shame. Instead, he gave Grif’s hand a gentle squeeze with his own organic one, lightly running his thumb across the knuckles. All that stressful crap was over, he wasn’t going to let his family hurt him again. He wasn’t going to leave Grif like that again, either. They were finally together, they were on their first real date, and Grif was being so sweet...

All those feelings about regret fell away, and Simmons leaned against the railing, a helpless dreamy expression on his face as he smiled at Grif. He couldn’t do anything to stop it, so he didn’t even try. Grif smiled back, and seemed to understand that they were BOTH absolutely stupid for each other... they always had been, but now they could do something about it. Simmons tilted his head forward, and Grif met him halfway for a soft kiss.

“Thanks for bringing me here. This was a really great day, Grif...” Simmons said when they leaned back apart.

“Oh, we’re not done just yet,” Grif told Simmons as he blinked his eyes open. “Wait a sec...”

It had finally gotten dark enough for the lights to flicker on; several lamp posts began to glow around them, and down at the amphitheater, music started to play. It was an unknown tune, but something grand and soothing, slow without being like a lullaby.

“This is why I wanted to bring you here for a first date,” Grif elaborated, slowing stepping backwards from the railing and into the middle of the courtyard, bringing Simmons with him. “You never got to have an awkward date at a lame school dance. So, that’s what’s happening dude. We’re dancing!”

“Haha, oh my GOD! You- you really planned this?” Simmons stumbled as Grif yanked him closer, laughing the whole time.

“That’s right! I told you, I wanna be all your first-date-experiences, and that includes doing the slow-dance-shuffle,” Grif grinned.

“What, exactly, is the slow-dance-shuffle?”

“It’s the thing little middle-schoolers do when they don’t know how to dance yet, they just kinda hug and shuffle their feet, so they rock in a circle. Don’t worry, it’s easy...” Grif wrapped his arms around Simmons as the music swelled, growing louder. “And unlike middle-schoolers, we don’t have to worry about teachers and chaperones telling us to leave room for Jesus while we dance!”

Simmons almost fell down from laughing, leaning all his weight into Grif. A moment passed with them both giggling before they finally managed to compose themselves. Now, Grif settled his hands on Simmons’ waist, warm and comforting. Simmons loves it whenever he feels Grif touch him... on his back, his arms, his chest... the times Grif affectionately holds his face... Simmons can’t believe he spent so many years NOT feeling Grif’s hands all over him. He loves it. He can’t get enough.

Simmons slips his own hands up on Grif’s shoulders, and Grif presses their bodies together. This isn’t going to be a fancy waltz or anything complicated... just the slow-dance-shuffle. Unlike most REAL first-date dances, this was intimate and comfortable, close and cozy. It also wasn’t taking place in a school gym decorated with balloons and streamers; they were in their own little world right here, flowers draped above them, pleasant lights illuminating the area, and beautiful music playing... it was utterly ROMANTIC, and Grif was very proud of himself for pulling it all together.

“I’m so lucky to have you with me...” Simmons sighed, closing his eyes and touching his forehead to Grif’s.

“Excuse you, I’m the lucky one,” Grif responded, nuzzling his face closer.

“Nuh-uh, I’M the lucky one!” Simmons argued.

“No, Me!”

“No, Me!”

They attempted to drown each other out by both shouting “ME ME ME ME ME!” before dissolving into laughter once again, which then slowly faded as they kissed. They hummed and continued to sway, moving slowly in a circle... dancing. Simmons was dancing with his boyfriend. They were boyfriends, and they were dancing.

“I love you, Grif... I’m glad your my first date, and my first dance... because you’re also the BEST,” Simmons said without opening his eyes, still pleasantly lost in all these tender feelings as he continued to rest his forehead on Grif’s brow.

“I love you too, Simmons. You’re the best for ME, I hope you know that...”

Clearly, they were both very lucky.

[jeonjeonggukenergy]

Anti-Hero

summary ~ in search of wine at a party that’s so not your scene, you run into jungkook, the weeb from your film class, and become determined to learn just how much he lives up to his big reputation.

pairing ~ jungkook x reader

genre ~ fluff, smut - college!au

wordcount ~ 8.5k

warnings ~ 18+ only! smut, explicit discussion of kinks/sexual preferences (yay healthy communication), dom/sub undertones during both discussion and sex (dom Jungkook, sub reader), mentions of daddy kink and degradation but both are a no, marking, biting, hair pulling, spanking, they both have a srs pain kink lmao, brief oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, creampie

a/n ~ SO excited to finally have this chapter out for yall! it’s a huge one and i’ve been working on it for quite a while, this includes the first full smut scene for this fic and i would love to know how yall like it or any other feedback. i really enjoyed writing the character development in this chapter too! they’re so cute and whipped for each other already hhhhhh. thank you so much for loving this story so far, i’m really looking forward to writing the rest. hope you enjoy! ❣️

previous: chapter 1 | chapter 2 ~ next: chapter 4 (coming soon!) 

~ read on ao3 ~

CHAPTER 3 ~ particular, perfect

You concluded your walk home by ditching your shoes at the door, swinging your bag off your shoulders to the floor, and plopping down onto the couch immediately. Pulling all three nearby blankets over yourself, you realized you still weren't quite comfortable. You looked around for a second, puzzled, until an absentminded clutch of your boobs reminded you why. Triumphantly, you reached into a sleeve to untangle your bra and chucked it across the room with a deep stretch of relief. Okay, time to overthink again.

Jungkook? What the fuck?

Wait. A bag of chips on the kitchen counter caught your eye before you could descend any further into panic. The perfect emotional crutch. You clutched it to your chest like a safeguard against your own internal monologue, anxiously shoving handful after handful into your mouth. After about thirty minutes spent motionless on the couch with one hand shoved in the chip bag and the other distractedly scrolling through Twitter, your eyes suddenly widened and your hand froze, dropping your next bite of chips back into the bag. Fuck. You had just eaten nearly an entire family-size bag of chips before what could end up being your first fuck in over a year. Well, maybe this was part of why you hadn't gotten fucked in over a year. No, don't go there. You shoved down your own insecurity, knowing you'd just been too busy for a relationship and honestly, probably still were. But that wasn't going to stop you today.

You shook the chip dust off of your hands and got up to head to the shower, turning up your trashiest throwback playlist of getting-ready bops and resolving to at least shave your legs. Going in with no expectations was probably the best strategy here, but it never hurt to be prepared.

~

Having cleaned his apartment in record time, Jungkook was now at the gym. After triple-checking that his roommate Jin would be in rehearsal until 10pm at the earliest, he quickly scanned all the common spaces and his bedroom and realized he didn't actually have that much work to do besides politely closing the door to Jin's still-decent-but-somewhat-messier room. To be honest, Jungkook had mainly bought himself the time after class so he could shave just in case. But then he figured if he had to shower, he might as well hit the gym first. So here he was, burning off an unprecedented amount of nervous energy. Settling comfortably into the leg curl machine, he turned his music up and started on a low weight to put in reps until his thighs burned and his head felt pleasantly empty.

After completing his normal leg day rotation and dutifully stretching, Jungkook prepared to head home. He walked out of the gym feeling more energized and centered, barely even flinching when he switched his AirPods off to say bye to the nice girl at the front desk and the action accidentally blasted "Whistle" by Flo Rida from his phone speaker for the whole lobby to hear. As he walked back into his apartment, the kitchen clock let him know it was only 4:30. He had plenty of time. Jungkook hopped straight into the shower, shampooing his hair, shaving everywhere he normally did, and savoring several extra moments to relax his muscles under the hot stream of water. Finally, he toweled off to wrap up in the black t-shirt and cozy matching sweatpants he'd carefully stacked on the counter. Offhandedly singing to himself in the steamy mirror, he checked the time on his phone, deciding he might as well go ahead and text you before he got nervous again and did something stupid. Like chickening out completely.

hey its jk! im ready when u are :) my apt is 344 glencoe rd #1521 (yes its on the 15th floor sry D: )

His charming old-school smileys lit up your phone while you still had a leg perched on the bathtub's edge.

"Fuck!" you reacted. The hiss resounded, thanks to the too-good acoustics of your cramped bathroom. Your razor clattering to the floor, you paused your max-volume 2000s music to check the message, and then the time. Only 5! That wasn't dinnertime yet. Plugging his address into Google Maps, though, you realized it was a 15- to 20-minute drive from yours on the opposite end of campus. Even if you got ready at light-speed, you would get there closer to 5:30. Which was a bit more reasonable. He was being reasonable! You should be ready by now!

You leaned over to pick up your razor and cursed again as the water stream grazed the blouse you'd left on out of laziness. You'd showered this morning, so there was no need to repeat that with your shave, but now you'd have to change outfits completely. Feeling like an idiot, naked from the waist down but now all the way wet, you peeled the shirt over your head slowly to preserve your good hair day and glanced down at the dilemma you'd been facing. The patch of hair between your legs stared back at you like the final boss of stupid societal beauty standards. You'd only shaved down there once, as an anniversary present for your first boyfriend the summer before college, and it had been a fun, smooth novelty for about two hours and then itchy, red, gross-looking, and miserable for about three weeks. Also, it had kind of made you feel like a little girl, which creeped you out when you thought about why guys would prefer it. You'd been debating whether to try it again for the past fifteen minutes, because if there was ever a right time, this was probably it. But now you didn't have time, if you were going to be respectful and not keep Jungkook waiting. Well, this was the real you. He could take it or leave it.

Slathering a quick coat of lotion over your freshly shaved legs, you prepared to get dressed in a soft pastel sweatshirt and a flattering pair of workout shorts. Wait, should you wear lingerie? Was that too try-hard? You didn't really even need to wear underwear with these lined shorts, which could be a cool-girl move, you supposed. You settled on a cute white sports bra to go with the shorts, not wanting to deal with a real bra and hoping it still appealed to Jungkook's casual, athletic style. You checked yourself in the mirror briefly before grabbing your bag, confirming you looked chill enough but still felt like your best color-coordinated self. Heading out, you shoved a tin of chrysanthemum green tea in your water bottle pocket. Why not?

~

You whizzed over to Jungkook's apartment, yelling along to "Sex With Me" by Rihanna from your throwback playlist to hype you up in the car. When you knocked on his door after a nerve-wrackingly long elevator ride, Jungkook welcomed you with a "C'mon in!" amidst a mouthful of shrimp chips.

"It's not really dinnertime yet," (yeah, no kidding, you thought) "I went ahead and worked out but it's still kind of early, so I figured we could just have a snack and do the homework first."

"Sounds good," you affirmed. "I'm not really that hungry," (read: there's no way I can eat chips AGAIN right now, I'm going to bloat so badly) "but I brought tea so I can go ahead and make that if you want some too!"

"Oh cool, thanks!" Jungkook accepted. "Are you sure you're not hungry though?"

You almost gave into his sweet pout, but managed to convince him, and soon you both sat at the table with laptops open and twin cups of tea. You had a blast working together for the first time, acting out your "conversation" for the discussion board and pretending to respond spontaneously to each other's points like you hadn't already excitedly rambled back and forth through them in real life. You hit "send" five minutes apart, your idea to not seem too suspicious, and kept raving over Rear Window in between. As the sun lowered outside his living room window, you moved on to making the ramen.

After three offers to help Jungkook, all of which he denied, you simply made another steep of the tea, leaving a mug on the counter for him. Standing at the bar counter sipping yours, you enjoyed all the tiny, cute noises he made while chopping green onions and sprinkling extra garlic in the seasoning, like an anime character who came with his own sound effects. You could tell he made these recipe additions every time, because bulk quantities of the same simple ingredients lined the counters of his cozy kitchen. When he beat two eggs and dropped them into the pot, though, he couldn't seem to find a lid, and eventually settled on trapping the steam with a plate. You both waited on the egg for a silent moment, your foot bouncing under the bar while Jungkook restlessly acquired a slight wiggle. As he took a sip of his tea, a strand of hair fell over his eyes, and he yeeted it out of his face. Your inner language nerd cringed, but there really was no more apt word to describe the action.

You offhandedly said you liked his hair long, and he replied with a smile, "Maybe I'll have to keep it then."

"Do you like it too?" you wondered.

"Honestly no, it's kind of inconvenient."

"Oh, then why would you keep it?" you immediately asked back.

"Well..." he dragged out. "You like it? Maybe I should keep it if it looks better this way."

Your eyes crinkled appreciatively at his thoughtfulness, but then you backtracked. "Wait, no, it's okay! If you don't like it, don't feel like you have to keep it just because of something I said. You can do whatever you want."

"Hm, yeah." A demure smile tugged up the corner of his mouth as he lifted the plate from the ramen pot.

You watched him drag a chopstick through the floating, now-cooked egg to tear it into ribbons, then divide the noodles between two generously-sized bowls. He carefully wiped down the drips of broth from each bowl before sprinkling in his fresh toppings, then walked with you to the table.

Serving you with a pleased smile and a slight nod, he announced, "Dinner!"

"Wow," you mused playfully. "So gourmet."

"I'm really particular about my ramen," he admitted. "I have it down to a perfect routine at this point."

You took your first slurp of his particular, perfect ramen. "Well, it's really good. I'm impressed. And thanks for making me dinner, you didn't have to do all that."

"Oh, come on, it's instant ramen," he laughed. "Nothing special. And you brought the tea, so thanks. And thanks for coming over. And doing the homework with me. And...yeah." Rambling again. Why did he seem so...nervous? You were nervous. He couldn't be nervous. What reason did he have to be? But the twitch of his mouth under his wide eyes, his slightly reddened ears, his hand skittering over his neck—fuck—to ruffle his hair...every action turned another page of his open book. It felt infuriatingly unfair that genetics had assigned someone so sweet and shy and unsure of himself to that fucking body.

While you both ate and talked, you kept catching glimpses of any small flashes of skin you could find, as his long sleeves fell to expose his forearms and the wide neckline of his boxy black shirt gaped around his collarbones. What was wrong with you? Even if this did eventually turn into a dick appointment, the boy still had literally all of his clothes on. You tried to refocus on finishing your noodles, while your brain screamed at itself in shame that you could get this turned on by the sight of someone covered from neck to ankle.

Jungkook ate surprisingly slowly, probably because he kept pausing to excitedly explain his favorite things about the Cowboy Bebop episode you were about to watch together. You smiled into your tea through every out-of-context fun fact and "wait, sorry, that might have been a spoiler!"

Finally, he reached the bottom of his bowl and insisted on both taking your dishes to the sink and leaving them for him to clean later. "You sure you want to start on episode 2? Not 1?"

"Yeah, I remember well enough and your summary helped a lot too!"

"Okay, if you're positive!" he double-checked, grabbing the remote.

Gingerly lowering yourselves to the couch in sync, you avoided looking at each other as you both tried to calculate a comfortable distance between you. His hand looked ready to either hold yours or lower to your thigh, but he retracted at the last second, smoothing it over his own leg anxiously and still clearly itching to make a move. You shuffled closer to him until your thighs barely touched, and he shifted to slink an arm around you, letting your head rest on his well-muscled shoulder. After pressing “play”, he began wiggling slightly again, subconsciously grooving to the old-newspaper-style intro. Spike Spiegel appeared on the screen, his broad shoulders squared into a slouch as he listlessly watched TV. Jungkook kicked one leg over another and stretched his arms out symmetrically to echo the pose. Raising an eyebrow, he waited until you acknowledged him with a faux grimace and a hand to your ear, imitating the old man in a lab who’d just called up Spike for a new mission. You both burst into laughter and settled back into your former arrangement, Jungkook holding you imperceptibly tighter. Though you tried to stay staring straight ahead, wanting to genuinely appreciate the anime, you kept catching his doe eyes in the corner of your sight as you both giggled and gasped your way through the episode.

After avoiding eye contact too many times, you finally tilted your head for a cute sideways view of his face. He leaned toward you too, shyly closing the gap to touch his warm lips to your nose, then lower. You responded immediately, rolling your body with his so your chests met as he pulled you up into a full, deeper kiss. The longer you explored each other's mouths, the more Jungkook punctuated your movements with whimpers. He seemed hesitant to let his hands roam away from your face and neck, but his high, breathy moans made it clear that he was just as into this as you. Your hands had naturally found his taut waist, and at some point you started to bring them back up to his face too—but as your short nails grazed his chest, a particularly sensual, voice-cracking moan interrupted you. You drew back in slight surprise, blinking your eyes open to scan from his face to his body.

He followed your gaze, both slowly settling on the massive tent in his pants. You froze. Your breath grew heavier, confronted with evidence of his physical attraction to you, if nothing else. After regaining his composure, he laid a useless hand over his lap in a delicate attempt to distract you and brought his other hand up to tap your face lightly.

"Is this okay?"

His eyes glittered with equal parts hunger and concern.

"Yes!" you nodded, too quickly, too eagerly. "Yes, this is totally okay. Sorry if I'm being weird, I just...it's been a while." You cringed internally at your own words, but couldn't seem to avoid putting your foot further in your mouth. "I haven't really, like, hooked up like this before—like, I've had sex, but never really outside of a relationship. But don't worry, I get this is more your thing, and I'm totally down if you are. I just don't really know what I'm doing, and you clearly do."

Jungkook blinked at your admission, then his face twisted into something curious, inscrutable. Would he decide you weren't worth the potential for drama? His lips flattened out to a tight line, then pursed to speak, and you looked down at your lap, hoping he wasn't as embarrassed of you as you now were of yourself.

"Well, I've never had sex sober."

Your eyes flashed back up to his. A complex half-smirk offset the furrow in his brow as he exhaled in nervous relief. "So, I don't actually know what I'm doing here either."

You tried to delay your response as you processed the implications. "You mean..." You tilted your head for better eye contact, hoping to convey empathy but not pity while you silently contemplated how to proceed. "Never?"

"Yeah, I've always shown up to parties and the hookups just...happened. Nothing I didn't want, nothing bad like that, but always spontaneous. So I guess we're kind of meeting in the middle, because I've never really had to plan ahead for a situation like this and, uh, figure out what I want. Beyond, yknow, wanting to get laid in the moment, of course." Jungkook laughed off the end of his explanation, but the smile never quite hit his eyes.

"Well, okay, let's pause right there." You sighed. Something in his words didn't sit right with you. "What do you want? I want you to be sure about this, of course, but more than that, even—what do you like?"

"I..." he chuckled, sheepish, shaking his hair over his face again. "What, you want me to just tell you? Like, what I'm into?"

"Yeah," you shrugged, trying to project more confidence than you felt in hopes of encouraging him to keep opening up. "I want you to be able to communicate, I want you to be comfortable. And I want to know what you like, so I can make it as good for you as possible."

With your hands still laid flat on his chest, you felt his heart rate jump a tiny bit, and took the liberty of digging your nails in just slightly deeper. His breath caught him, and then he caught himself. "I don't know, I just want what you want."

Jungkook struggled to appear nonchalant as you rolled your eyes with an "Oh, come on," challenging his avoidance. Every instinct was telling him yes. He could hear his mind screaming at him to be intentional for once and let you take him, if not farther, then deeper than ever before. But he still hesitated, because being intentional in this case required him to be real. He had always been a fairly private person, but something about you made him feel so comfortable so fast that it counterintuitively made him more nervous. Of course Jungkook knew you weren't all innocent at this point, but the risk remained that you wouldn't really be down for everything he secretly wanted to explore. Even worse, though he didn't truly think you would, you could easily turn around and spin anything he revealed into yet another graphic rumor. Especially since you had no skin in the game yourself. He glanced down at your fingers, tensed into his chest, and narrowed his eyes.

"Why don't you tell me what you like first? And then I can tell you where we overlap," he grinned competitively. Your eyes widened as he tossed the challenge back your way. Not backing down, you flattened your hands and steeled yourself to settle the stakes.

"Fine—but only if you promise not to just go along with whatever I say. I'll let you know anything that's a hard no for me, but otherwise I want to hear at least one thing that's not on my list. I really do want what you want, that's how I am too, okay? So..." you paused to slide your fingertips over his collar and drag it down with a light scratch, now directly on his skin. You smiled with your eyes, enjoying the way he naturally responded with a hitch of his breath again. "Surely you can think of something specific."

He nodded quickly, before he could convince himself to back out. "Yeah. Promise."

"Okay," you confirmed, slightly nervous but determined to go through with this, for Jungkook's sake if anything. Seeing his body come alive with each new twist of the situation was building your curiosity, not to mention turning you on beyond belief. You could barely stand the warmth of his skin under your hands, so you drew them back to fold in your lap as you began. "So. Uh. To start. I've never really laid it all out like this either. I really like neck kisses? Like, a lot." Equally unused to this kind of directness, you wrung your hands together nervously, but sucked up the boldness to keep elaborating. "That's definitely, like, a big thing that turns me on...and then getting marked up and everything is really hot to me too. Like you can honestly go really rough with me on that, bite me even. I don't know if this is weird but even though it's annoying to cover up, I love taking off the makeup at the end of the day and seeing all the bruises on myself. Knowing I was walking around all day with that as my little secret." You swallowed shyly before continuing, but Jungkook interrupted the brief silence immediately with a hushed "Fuck."

You turned to face him fully and he didn't even move to meet your stare, eyeing the space above your sweatshirt's wide neckline like he was ready to devour you. Emboldened, your smile grew.

"So...yeah. I like being bitten, marked up. Mostly, uh," you rubbed a slightly trembling hand over your shoulder, "I'm just really into pain in general. Obviously not the bad 'I'm too dry and you're jackhammering me' kind of pain, or like, anal. Anal is a hard no. But things like biting, or hair pulling, or overstimulation. Or, like—I don't really know how to explain this, but...getting held too hard? That deep pain like when you get a massage when you're sore and it hurts but it's good, yknow?"

Jungkook looked like he was about to vibrate out of his skin, breathing shallow and rapid. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, just in time for you to whisper in conclusion:

"I love that feeling."

You suddenly looked away, reticent. A thick silence swelled between you, until he composed himself enough to punctuate it. "Okay. Yeah. Pain. So like, BDSM?"

"I mean, kind of? Sure? I don't have much experience with that and I don't really need the whole power dynamic aspect; I just like the, uh, physical pain. I wouldn't be opposed to trying further, but one thing I do know is I really don't like being degraded. And I'm not into the whole daddy kink thing either. I'm just not gonna call you that, sorry," you laughed, and fortunately he giggled too. "But I know that's not, like, necessary to the rest of BDSM, and the part about giving up control is still...interesting, for sure."

"Wait," Jungkook cocked his head, making a mental note of your last sentence before he went back to the previous one. "What do you mean, being degraded?"

You half-chuckled, half-cringed, never having needed to explain something like this, especially to a guy you hopefully were about to fuck. Cheers to better communication, you supposed.

"You know, how some people when they do dirty talk are like 'yeah, you little slut, you're such a whore.' I don't like being called any of that. Like it's fine that other people like it, there's nothing wrong with that, it's just really uncomfortable for me."

His brows knit together as you explained, and he shook his head so fast it almost looked cartoonish, like a little kid refusing vegetables. "Yeah, no. Don't worry, not really my thing either."

You sighed in relief. "That's nice. I feel like it's, like, weirdly common with guys. Maybe just the kind of thing people learn from porn."

"But you still like it rough, huh? Did you learn that...from porn?" he half-joked, trying to overcome both his shyness and his gritted-teeth arousal.

"No, I don’t like porn. Most of it’s really unethical. I learned from experience," you sassed back. "I don't have a whole lot, but enough to know what I like."

"Well. Hm." He worked his tongue over his teeth, poking one cheek out over his tensed jaw. You couldn't get enough of watching him grow fascinated by your every revelation, and you were preparing to keep pressing further when he beat you to it, posing a question. "Is there anything you haven't tried before, but really want to?"

Your face heated up instantly, tasting your own medicine. You looked back to your hands, breaking his intense eye contact to give yourself the courage to be even more uncomfortably honest. "I...I...um." Your first attempt at disclosing your fantasy came out as a squeak. Swallowing, you set your shoulders and tried again, selfishly reminding yourself Jungkook seemed so eager to please that this was 99% likely to get you exactly what you wanted. "I've always been, uh, really into the idea of, um, getting spanked. I've been, uh, too nervous to ever bring it up, before now obviously, but it's definitely one of the biggest kinks I've always wanted to try. Maybe being tied up too, I think I'd like it if I tried but I haven't thought about that as much. But, yeah...spanking, definitely."

"Fuuuuuuuuck."

A lengthened version of Jungkook's earlier under-breath exclamation made you peer up at him. Your thighs already pressed together from the tension of admitting something totally new, you found yourself needing even more friction just from the sight of Jungkook with his head thrown back on the couch, a veiny hand threaded in his hair to pull the long waves back from his forehead. The full reveal of his sharp eyebrows brought a whole new level of intensity to Jungkook's already beautifully carved features. He glanced over at you, then squeezed his eyes shut with a terse exhale. You couldn't place why, but you felt a deep attraction to the way he expertly restrained himself from acting on the lust written over his face—not under your control, but his own.

"Oh, fuck. What the fuck. How the fuck would you fucking know," he swore more in a single burst than he cumulatively had ever in your presence.

"What?" you toyed, heart rate still high but relaxed enough to enjoy agitating him. "Something ring a bell?"

Jungkook shuddered out a long breath, hand ruffling his hair as his other forearm still tried desperately to subdue his boner.

"Everything," he hissed, more willing to elaborate now that you had done the same, and especially now that he could tell you really did enjoy him being more assertive. "Shit. I...I want...I know you said not to just say this but I really do want everything you want. I can't wait to mark you up. I can't wait to hold you down and bruise your neck. I want it all, I want to make you hurt so good. And then—" Breathless. He looked almost embarrassed. "Then you had to go and somehow guess basically my biggest fucking kink, I can't fucking believe you." Both hands had come up to seize his long locks as he held himself back physically, while finally letting his guard down mentally to declare everything he intended to do to you. Letting out a short laugh, he finally met your eyes. "I wanna spank your ass bright red. Fuck. This is crazy. You're perfect."

Your core throbbed at every bold word. Leaning in close to him, you let your lips approach Jungkook's beautifully sculpted jawline as he panted, his chin tossed up to fully expose his neck. You stopped just short of his skin, in awe of how much you'd been able to work him up and still so tempted to take it to the next level. "Fuck," you echoed. "This is so hot," you murmured almost to yourself. Your eyes closing along with his, you dealt the final blow. "I love that we have so much in common. But come on, you promised. One thing that's not on my list."

Jungkook whined. You could tell he needed to touch you so badly, and no one was stopping him but himself. He had no way of knowing that if he cut the whole discussion and just took you, you wouldn't even try to resist at this point. Staring at his trembling mouth from below, you quickly averted your eyes when he opened his, pretending you hadn't been looking. He inhaled a short hiss, and then spoke.

"Okay..." He paused after just the first word, blowing air through the tiny "o" of his mouth as his eyes bugged slightly from nervousness. He couldn't resist a challenge, though, and his urge to please you overwhelmed his reluctance to peel back one more layer. "So, the pain thing. I think we, uh, feel the same about me giving and you receiving. But...I'm really into it for myself too. I don't know if you'd be comfortable with it, I know you maybe want me to be more dominant and I think I like that more too in general, but you can be as rough with me as you want back. I'd love that." Eyes still open but fluttering, Jungkook's tone grew breathier, heady as he confessed. You almost giggled at how bashfully he worded his desire to dominate you, to rough each other up, but the contrast was so hot you couldn't help sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, eager for him to continue. His voice lowered. "I love being scratched, marked, bitten...hit me, push me back, any kind of pain or any way you can hurt me, I want it." He shivered, but his voice firmed up even further. "I want it so bad."

You fought to stay motionless beside him, unable to even process how much more his honesty had turned you on. You felt helpless in your desire for him, your craving to give him everything he wanted and more. He noticed your charged stillness and shifted toward you, removing a hand from his hair to finally reach for your face. Threading his fingers through your hair instinctively like he had with his own, he tilted your head back to access your neck. Jungkook finally felt confident enough to tease you back as he skimmed his lips over your pulse point, tugging your skin between his teeth for a gentle first taste and grinning when you moaned. Seeing someone so satisfied, for reasons better than just his body or their pride, brought the most incredible rush of blood to his head. And his other head.

"And I get why you want it too," he finished with a whisper in your ear. "So trust me when I say I really, really want to give it to you."

In an instant, your hands yanked his hair down to bring his face up to yours, mouths crashing together. Feverish, restless, you kissed him, hastily attempting to straddle his thick thighs before he threw his body over yours and pinned you to the back of the couch. His hands wandered, intrepid, from your waist to a quick squeeze of your breasts before he spiraled you into his strong arms. Pressing your chest flush with his as your mouths meshed, he ground his hips into you shamelessly, enjoying the way you struggled beneath him to align your core with his rock-hard dick.

"Your room?" You rushed out the words.

Jungkook laughed a little, his tone half whine and half dare. "So we're done talking?"

"Come on," you pleaded back. He finally relented, pulling you up with him and dragging you across the living room and through his door, lips not leaving yours for a second. You backed him into the bed with your arms against his strong chest, and once he was sitting perched on the edge, you laid yourself horizontally over his thighs.

"What are you doing?" he murmured, curling a hand over the dip of your waist to hold you gently.

You angled your head back to make unsteady eye contact with him, flipping your shorts down boldly. His free hand automatically reached to slowly conform to the shape of your ass, so eager to touch you but tentative as he grazed your curves.

"Giving you exactly what you want."

"Fuck. Really? You're sure about this?" Jungkook held careful eye contact as you brought your arms back up, crossing your wrists over your head delicately. You nodded slightly and did your best to meet his gaze with confident invitation, convincing him how much you trusted and wanted him.

He smoothed his warm hand over your ass one more time, then brought it up and watched your thighs tighten at the loss of his touch. Breathing in, still a little shakily, he brought his hand down on your right cheek with a loud but mild smack. A grunt of satisfaction involuntarily left him when he saw your face flinch down into the sheets, subduing a small noise of surprise. He returned his hand to caress the light redness he'd left, checking in with you again. "Is this okay? Let me know if I should stop."

You replied with your face still tucked between your arms, muffled by the bed. "More than okay. Please don't stop."

He spanked you again, moving to your left cheek. This time you felt his dick twitch under you and couldn't help grinding down on him a little bit. "Is that as hard as you can go?" you taunted in low tones, brave enough to egg him on but not quite enough to meet his eyes again.

Jungkook's thighs and core tensed under you, and he squeezed his fingertips tighter, digging into the skin of your ass. "Not at all," he said simply.

Deep breath. A few seconds passed, and his hand came down, harshly. You cried out in shock, the timing unexpected and the sting far sharper, and he gave your other cheek a fourth hard smack before you could even process the third one. "Harder?" he tested. "Tell me."

Another spank. "Mmmf."

"You like this, huh?"

"Yes, I told you," you whimpered back, half-teasing even though you were in no position to do so. Immediately, he cut you off with a stinging hit across both cheeks, and you moaned.

"You really do," he breathed lowly. "Fuck yeah. Take it then."

He spanked you again, and again, then paused, tugging down your shorts all the way to your ankles to expose the crease right above your thighs. Rubbing your already sore bottom, Jungkook cupped the underside of its curve in his big, firm hand. Already anticipating your whine, he drew back his touch and hummed in harmony with you. He continued landing satisfyingly hard smacks, alternating to cover your ass evenly. His dick strained through his pants more and more each time you trembled under his touch. Never hitting you hard enough to do serious damage, he still clearly enjoyed his thorough reddening of your ass, and occasionally took a moment just to caress your skin as it warmed from the spanking. The pain lit your senses up from head to toe. Face burning with deep arousal, you mentally thanked yourself for going out of your comfort zone and unprecedentedly admitting your kinks before even venturing into your first time together. Amidst the thrilling sting of his hand meeting your soft curves, Jungkook eventually noticed your thighs clenching together, craving friction but not really wanting relief from the pleasurable burn.

"You're wet," he marveled, sliding two warm fingers up and down your slit.

"Mhm," you mumbled back as you tilted your hips into his hand. He gave you a light slap right on the folds between your legs, eliciting another soft moan.

"So good for me," Jungkook said softly, pulling you up into his lap by your waist. "You look so pretty like this. I wanna see all of you." He tugged your sweatshirt over your head, followed by your sports bra, thankful that it stretched over your head easily. Suddenly grinning, he wound up and shot it across the room like a rubber band, and you smacked his arm, giggling.

"What was that? You cheeseball," you teased, and he blinked, chuckling lightly back. It occurred to him that he'd never laughed, or made someone laugh, during sex before.

"It was so stretchy! Don't make fun of me," he blushed.

"You're so cute," you said, fingers sliding under his t-shirt hem.

"Cute?" His eyebrows rose in mock disbelief, and he reached around to land another hit to your still-red asscheek.

"Hot," you amended. Raising his shirt and finally getting a full glimpse of his enviable abs, you groaned. "You're extremely hot, and also really cute, and it's kind of ridiculous and I don't really know how to handle all of it at once."

His face scrunching up into a smile at the praise, he fell back onto the bed with his arms behind his head. "You are too, you know. Really cute, of course. But really hot too." As you discarded his shirt and moved on to easing his sweatpants down his hips, you held in a gasp as his erection sprung up from the waistband. He was big, thick, and painfully hard, his tip glistening warm with precum and a lone vein running prominently up his smooth shaft. Although you wouldn't be corroborating them, you had to admit to yourself that all the rumors were true. You instinctively curled a hand around it, barely covering half his length, and he winced at your slightest touch. Pulling off with a single slow stroke, you slid his sweatpants and briefs all the way to the floor and then stood, looking up from his legs to his blown-out eyes to take in the glorious sight of his fully naked body.

"You shave," you said, surprised by the clean skin under his arms and between his legs.

"Yeah," he demurred, self-conscious for some reason. He lowered his arms to fold them over his torso, somehow defining his biceps even more. "I'm on the dance team, and it's nice to feel all smooth for practice and stuff. I don't know, I just like it."

"Oh, that's cool! No worries, I like it too. And you don't mind that..." You looked down at yourself, still just standing naked in front of him. "...I don't? Like, down there at least."

"No, you do you!" he said quickly. With a shy smile, he admitted, "I actually kind of like it on you. I do this for me, anyway, not for anyone else," he playfully noted. Slowly, he was sitting up to take hold of your waist and lower you down to the bed with him. Pausing to kiss the sweet spot under your jaw, he continued. "So don't feel like you have to do anything, or not do anything, either."

Jungkook couldn't quite explain the nature of how his attraction to you had developed. Seeing how open and honest you were with him made it easy for him to be honest with you too, and just to feel comfortable being himself. He admired the way he could still tell you sometimes got nervous like him, but it didn’t stop you from getting real or going bolder. Unable to fully express it in words, he just hoped to ensure you felt as comfortable and respected around him as he did around you. He already knew that he wanted this to be more than just a one-time thing, and while he still hesitated to assume that you felt the same, he intended to leave no doubt by the end of the night.

You moaned as he nipped at the skin of your neck. It was so easy to get swept back up in Jungkook. You could barely handle the friction of his dick rutting against your wet folds from below, craving him inside you. "Ughhh. Wait, one more thing. I'm on the pill, are you clean?"

"Yes," he gasped, barely removing his mouth from your jaw. "Are you?"

"Yeah, so we don't need a condom. If that's cool with you!"

"Yeah! But, you're ready?" He seemed surprised.

"Aren't you?" you whined, beyond holding back. He felt so unbearably hard that his coherence and willpower kind of surprised you too. "Please, I want you so bad."

To your surprise, he lowered his head to the crest of your legs, dotting wet kisses down your torso. Keeping his big brown eyes on you, he teased your entrance with a finger and echoed your immediate groan at the welcome stretch.

"You really are ready," he remarked, awed at the ease with which your wetness sucked the digit in. Frankly, you were in awe as well. It had taken your ex-boyfriend months to figure out how to get you this worked up. Jungkook either had even more experience than you'd heard from the grapevine, or he was a natural. Or maybe you were just really, ridiculously, primally attracted to him. He went on to curve his finger in you and lick a messy swipe up your folds, sucking hard once he reached your sensitive clit. You cried out at the delicious burst of stimulation and he rose up to catch your lips with his.

"I had to do that, just once," he grinned breathlessly. "But—"

"Let me suck you off," you interjected, unbelievably fucking turned on and dying to please him.

"No," he gasped with far more fervency than you'd think anyone could refuse a blowjob. "Please, I was about to say—" he choked out a high-pitched moan as you ran a single finger up his shaft in anticipation, sinking the nails of your other hand into his thigh. "—I think I'm gonna explode if I don't get inside you right this second."

So he did have a breaking point. "Fuck," you muttered, bringing your legs around his to tuck your heels under his tight ass as he lined up. He eased his tip in, keeping heavy eyes on you the whole time, and you could feel the hot, thick tension in his thighs as he struggled to hold himself back from just thrusting into your heat. Slowly, he drew closer into you until he bottomed out with a low moan. You whined at the perfect slight pain of the stretch, and Jungkook squeezed his eyes shut, gripping you by your waist. Watching the veins in his forearms stand out as he drove almost all the way out and back into you, you rocked your hips carefully against his with each smooth stroke, getting used to his fullness. When his balls met your ass again, he shuddered a bit and opened his eyes into yours.

You answered his question before he could even ask it. "Jungkook—you feel so good. You can go faster, it's okay."

A smile hit his eyes before his mouth, and he kissed you once, pressing his chest to yours and intertwining your tongues eagerly. You bit his bottom lip as he slowly drew away, tugging it between your teeth to pull a sweet little whimper from his throat. Grinning, he leaned back in to touch his forehead to yours and simultaneously slid a subtle hand under your ass to curve your hips up with his. The slight leftover sensitivity of your skin amplified his light touch, and Jungkook seemed to realize this, curling his fingers to tease you with the tips of his nails. Instinctively, you ducked to bite his neck, not even registering your move to pass the pain back to him until he choked out a beautifully half-restrained moan and snapped his hips into yours. Gasping, you encouraged him to lose himself in you, dragging your lips up to latch around his earlobe. He hissed and thrust into you sharply again, meeting the time of your movements as you swirled your tongue between each of his hoop earrings. Soon he was pounding you rhythmically, finally letting you feel the full force of his strength but keeping remarkable control over both his body and yours. Both of you had gone silent except for your heavy breaths, lost in the moment, but the flexed shivers of his thighs and twitches of his fingers in your hair told you all you needed to know. Suddenly yanking your strands to pull you back from the additional bruise you'd sucked beneath his ear, he earned a new set of scratches on his back as your hands dragged down the muscular expanse in reply. Jungkook switched places with you to draw dark clouds from your skin, a storm brewing under your jaw. Your face fell into pure bliss, eyes shut and immersed in the barrage of sensation from his hands, mouth, and big dick filling you. Already feeling the familiar tension that preceded an orgasm building through your whole body, you chased him closer to his climax too, grinding back roughly into every thrust and raking your hands over every part of his firm body you could reach.

You had really been fooling yourself when you thought you could try something casual for once. You wanted more of Jungkook, all of Jungkook, nothing but Jungkook ever again. Knowing he'd never even gone back to the same hookup twice sank slight anxiety into your stomach, a kind of future nostalgia for this moment you already feared losing. You knew you weren't anything special compared to the catalogue of gorgeous girls he'd had his turn with, but a deviant voice whispered from the back of your mind that you could be, because it was clear none had bothered to learn him like this. You'd still try your desperate best not to want too much from him, but you resolved to do whatever you could to make him crave more.

Rolling your hips in a smooth circle against him, you clenched around his dick and your hands tightened their fierce hold on his tiny waist. You felt his abs tense within your grasp as he tried not to stutter into you.

"Fuck. No." His voice cracked, but held an undertone of ferocity. "You come first." Jungkook rushed a hand to your clit, adding pressure in small, deft motions with a fingertip as he kept fucking you deep. You sank your teeth into his shoulder in response, drawing your hands up his back to clutch him closer to you, and Jungkook cried out. You left your mouth on his golden skin to stifle your moans as he sped up his fingers, and he tried to let you stay there but eventually couldn't help pulling you off him to see your face. Eyes narrowed and eyebrows turning up sharp at the ends, he watched you like a hawk to track the exact moment when he pushed you over the edge. Your face crumpled and you felt your whole body burn under his gaze as you came, squeezing around him in waves of pleasure while he fucked you through your high, unrelenting. Drinking up the bliss obvious on your features, Jungkook's eyes never left yours and his expression grew more and more fucked out. You marveled at how even as you lost control and energy to fuck him back, your body freezing in orgasm seemed to turn him on further. One last pulse of the tension leaving your core made his dick throb inside you, and you impulsively broke your eye contact to lean in and bite down slow but hard on his neck again. He gasped.

"You're amazing." Murmuring into his skin, you kissed the bite marks gently. Jungkook whimpered at the sweet contradiction and lurched into your hips even harder. You recovered to move with him, squeezing him deeper into you every time he bottomed out, and as his breathless moans escalated in pitch, his whole body shivered with each stroke. Pressing wet, heavy kisses all over his neck, you felt his jaw flutter while his lips hung open. His considerable strength spent, Jungkook shuddered one last hard thrust into you and finally let go, coating your walls from within. His hips lightly rocked against yours as he stayed deep inside you, still hard and savoring the euphoric release he'd held back for so long. You felt so incredibly warm and comfortable around his sensitive dick, relaxed but still holding him tight, and he couldn't help holding you up for a languid kiss before pulling out of you smoothly.

He briefly looked into your eyes, and you saw stars. The sun had continued to set outside, and it peeked between the blinds of his window to wrap you both in a warm, slivered glow. Staring down at his hands on your body, Jungkook took a deep breath and collapsed to your side, holding you close. You settled into him, cupping a hand over his head on your chest. With your fingers laced through his sweaty hair, you stroked his temple with your thumb, worrying for a second whether the gesture seemed too intimate but forgetting your fear when he snuggled up into your touch. You felt the need to say something, to figure out what the fuck was next after this, but stayed silent, not wanting to disturb the comforting weight of his frame. Heartbeat still racing, Jungkook stretched out to breathe a long sigh. As he sank back into you, you stretched under him too, letting his solid, warm body drape over you like a blanket. This couldn't be farther from what you'd expected with him, but you weren't about to make it stop. Surely, eventually, he would.

A minute passed. And then five. And then, before either of you could talk yourselves out of it, you were asleep, intertwined.

[missusk]

Rolling With the Punches (Raihan x OC x Leon) Commissioned by @poneshyay​ Commission info

~~ “Fritter, move,” Aminia huffed in exasperation, again nudging at the Appletun lounging in the middle of the walkway behind the counter. “I can’t risk dropping another dozen rolls.”

The Appletun let out a lackadaisical yawn as he bumbled to the other side of the walkway, though his large abdomen only left room for maybe a foot of space. Aminia rolled her eyes and stepped over her lazy Pokémon, careful not to drop the freshly baked rolls. As she set them into the glass case, she wondered that may have been Fritter’s plan all along – to get a free roll by tripping his Trainer and causing them to rain down from the platter. The woman chuckled to herself, pat Fritter on the head, then stepped into the back room to continue her work.

It was an early morning at the Biscuit and Fritter bakery, though the owner didn’t mind too much. The time before opening gave Aminia space to efficiently prepare for the day, and she was absorbed in her tasks until the front door opening caught her attention.

“I’ll be right with you!” she called from the back. The greeting was just a formality, seeing as she could count on three fingers who had a key to her bakery, and she was one of them.

“No need, Mini,” came a familiar voice, and Aminia smiled at the sound when she poked her head out.

“Hi Rai,” she said. “Give me maybe 5 more minutes? I can chat for a little bit before the shop opens.”

Raihan nodded and pulled out his phone, content to wait for his girlfriend to finish her opening duties. He did pluck Fritter off the ground though, since the Appletun was doing a great job of extending the shop-opening process. Fritter was happily snoozing on Raihan’s lap when Aminia stepped out - it was certainly a cute sight, but what really caught her attention was Raihan’s face. It was stoic with a cold anger, his eyes wide and mouth in a straight line – certainly not what she was expecting from her usually cheerful boyfriend.

“Rai?” she started as she rushed over. Raihan was still looking at his phone. “What is it, are you okay?”

Raihan didn’t speak, but instead held out his phone. There was a news article on the screen, its title in big bold letters:

CHAMPION LEON’S SECRET RELATIONSHIP?

Aminia’s heart dropped. What was just a warm and cozy morning smelling of fresh bread and sweet frosting was now suddenly dark, dank, and filled with dread. The three of them had successfully kept their relationship secret for this long, how on earth did someone find out? Raihan answered the unspoken question by rewinding the article’s accompanying video.

“Leon, Mr. Leon!” came a reporter’s tinny voice from the screen. “You’ve been invited to collaborate with Kalos’ Pokémon League – why?”

“The details are still in the works,” came Leon’s ever-friendly response, even to pestering paparazzi, as he waved to fans crowding around him. Something seemed off about him… his smile didn’t reach his eyes, and his shoulders seemed stiff. While his cheerful tone could convince almost anybody, Aminia was not so easily fooled. She knew her boyfriend well, and for whatever reason, he was not liking the attention this time around…

“Is it because of a secret relationship with Champion Diantha?” the reporter pressed. “Are you visiting Kalos just to spend time with your girlfriend?”

“Aminia doesn’t live in Kalos, she’s got her bakery here,” Leon said absentmindedly as he tried to make his way through the crow. He stopped mid-track when gasps erupted around him.

“Who is Aminia?”

“Mr. Leon, is Aminia your girlfriend?”

“Leon! Champion Leon, are you in a relationship?”

“Leon!”

Leon quickly regained his composure, flashing a grin to the crowds. “I’ve got to get going, but more details about the collaboration are soon to come! We’ll definitely have a champion time, though!”

The frame froze, and Aminia and Raihan locked eyes. The only sound in the bakery was Fritter’s soft snores as the two processed what they both witnessed. Raihan was the first to react. He slammed his fist on the table, causing Fritter to leap off his lap in shock.

“Ugh!” he spat, standing from the table and pacing around the empty bakery. “It’s that rubbish reporter again! She always knows just what to say and when to say it to get everyone to spill their guts on accident!”

“What?” Aminia asked, standing as well. “What reporter? Rai, what are you talking about?”

Raihan stopped pacing. His eyes flicked around the bakery, never once meeting Aminia’s, no matter how hard she tried. It wasn’t until she gently took his hand that Raihan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“There’s been news about me having a girlfriend too,” Raihan mumbled defeatedly. “Same broad, she’s a nosy thing. That same reporter cornered me after an exhibition match when I was distracted, I let it slip I was going to my girlfriend’s place after.”

“When was this?” she asked. “And when was that video?”

“…Both were yesterday,” Raihan confessed, and Aminia let out a groan. “I didn’t know how to tell you, I know you don’t want the attention from the press. I tried to play it cool, but it turned out just as bad as Leon’s.”

After a few seconds and a deep sigh, Aminia regained her composure.

“Okay, that’s fine,” she said, slowly finding the light in the darkness. “This won’t be so bad. You just mentioned you had a girlfriend, and, well, Lee said my name and profession, but that doesn’t mean everything is ruined! Maybe no one will put the pieces together.”

Raihan’s scowl slowly shifted back into a smile, and after a roll of the eyes, he stepped over to pull Aminia into a hug. His chuckle rumbled through her, and he gave her another squeeze.

“I love you,” he said through a laugh. “Always so positive.”

Aminia squeezed Raihan in return, reveling in the feeling of her boyfriend’s arms. She let herself be held for a moment, before offering another squeeze then heading back to wipe off the front counter before opening.

Maybe it really would be fine. Yeah, some people knew her and her bakery, but who listens to news stories like that, anyway? It wasn’t even news, just tabloid rubbish. People always wondered if Leon and Raihan had partners, being that they were the most attractive bachelors in Galar, so this wasn’t really anything new, right? Minus the part where Raihan confirmed he had a girlfriend, and the part where Leon shared her name and profession…

“So, is anyone else here?” Raihan asked, his voice tearing Aminia from her thoughts. 

“Not yet,” Aminia replied. “The morning staff don’t come in yet.”

She didn’t pay the question much mind, until she felt something pressing against her back. She turned to see Raihan’s tall frame hovering over her, quickly bringing a blush to her cheeks when her eyes met the mischievous glint in Raihan’s. He was biting his lip suggestively, then leaning in, only for Aminia to turn.

“Rai,” Aminia mumbled as her cheeks flushed. “I’m on the clock.”

“You run the shop,” Raihan purred, whispering against her cheek. “Why don’t we take a quick break in the back?”

“Raihan,” Aminia said more sternly. When he offered her a puppy-dog pout, she let out a laugh, rolled her eyes, gave him a chaste kiss, then froze when a flash erupted from the front of the shop. 

They both whipped their heads to the source of the light, only to see a retreating reporter kicking up dust as she sprinted away. Aminia’s blood turned cold as the bakery yet again fell silent. 

“Shit,” Raihan grunted.

“Yeah,” Aminia agreed before letting out a defeated sigh.

“Maybe… it’ll be fine?” Raihan offered, though neither of them believed that. Their attention turned to a noise in the back of the shop.

“Rai, Aminia!” came Leon’s voice from the back entrance. “You in here?”

“Unfortunately,” Raihan called. They both quickly hid away in the back of the bakery, where a frazzled Leon was waiting for them.

“I take it you saw my slip up?” Leon asked guiltily, eyes flicking between the two.

“Not your fault,” Raihan replied quickly. “That reporter gets the best of anyone she talks to.”

“I’m sorry,” Leon said, stepping forward to give Aminia a hug. “Maybe no one will put the pieces together?”

“I said the same thing,” Aminia chuckled. “But looks like that same reporter followed you here. How long do you think it’ll be until-“

Aminia’s sentence was interrupted by a pounding on the front door. The three inconspicuously peeked their heads out of the back room, only for all their jaws to drop. Outside the glass doors stood a crowd of people, all peering in, standing on their toes, each trying to get a glimpse of the no-longer-as-mysterious girlfriend of Champion Leon and Gym Leader Raihan.

“My guess is not long,” Leon sighed. 

“So, shall I start making more rolls?” Raihan asked suddenly. “Looks like you have quite a few new customers.”

“I can frost the cookies,” Leon offered, immediately catching onto Raihan’s offer. “I’ve always wanted to use one of those frosting squeezer things.”

Aminia’s gaze flicked between her two boyfriend’s. While this wasn’t exactly how she was planning to start another day of business, their eager faces reminded her yet again of why she fell in love with the two. Her lips tugged into a smile, then she stepped up to offer both a kiss. After tying her apron securely, she stepped back, filled with a new confidence because of the men beside her.

“Let’s roll.”

[sliggoons]

A Fluffy, Comforting Guzma x Reader

This is what we all need right now, whether you want to admit it or not.

   The rain was coming down in torrents as you walked down the main street of Po Town. You didn’t bother running, your clothes, hair and entire bag were already soaked through. Your socks squelched inside your shoes with each step you took. This day had just been plain rotten, and the heavy rain was only worsening your mood. Not only had it prohibited you from accomplishing your days worth of activities, but it wasn’t a pleasant rain. Buckets of cold, frigid water pelted into the earth, muddying the paths, and the wind brought goosebumps to your arms.

     Quietly you made your way up to Guzma’s room in the dilapidated mansion. Since you and Guzma had been together, you noticed an increase in his motivation to fix the place up. Slowly but surely the cracks in the walls and ceilings were beginning to be patched, the broken glass swept up and windows replaced.

      A few of the grunts you were closer friends with extended waves or words of greeting, but you ignored them, silently walking up the stairwell. You felt awful doing it, but you knew they’d just ask you what was wrong, and you’d stand there dripping wet, trying to explain and fighting back the lump forming in your throat. So you opted to just continue on, head down.

      Soon you reached the door to Guzma’s room. You hated to bother him, knowing he had some work to do, and he’d been in a grumpy mood. Team Skull had really been struggling with finances recently, and since Guzma was in charge he felt personally responsible for it all. But you were still there, knocking on the door to his room.

      You heard a voice snap from within. “Whaddya want? I’m real busy,” he paused, waiting for a reply as you tried to figure out how to word this. Maybe it’d be better if you just went home, Guzma had been really stressed about all the work he had to do lately. “Oh just come in already, best make it quick though.”

      You opened the door, stepping in, then closing it quietly behind you, all too suddenly self aware of the water soaking into the carpet at your feet. You looked up at him, Guzma, your boyfriend, splayed out on his "throne", his laptop balanced on his knee. You felt at ease, just standing in this room, and the stresses of your day started to unwind, in the form of tears pricking at your eyes.

      Guzma looked up, he blinked once, twice, his eyes wide. “Oh,” he stated, haphazardly throwing his laptop to the side, standing up, his eyes glued to you. “Aye, what happened, baby doll? Is everything alright?”

      Guzma noticed instantly, the difference between the water droplets falling from your soaked hair and rolling down your face, and the tears gathering in your eyes. He saw the way your bottom lip quivered so slightly and the dark circles forming under your eyes. He walked towards you, his arms awkwardly out, his instincts telling him to touch, hug, hold you in his arms. He wasn’t sure though, he learned to be cautious with you, always waiting to make sure he didn’t force you into anything you didn’t want.

      So Guzma waited, close, his big hands resting tentatively on your elbows, rubbing gentle circles into your skin. And that was enough for you, the tears started to overflow and your shoulders started to shake. His arms wrapped around you the instant you reached for him, burying your face in his chest.      One arm around your waist, the other hand cradling the back of your head, Guzma gently stroked your hair as you cried, ridding yourself of all your negative emotions.

      “You can always talk to me yaknow. About anything. I’ll be here to listen, but only if you wanna tell me.” Guzma held you for another minute before pulling away, watching as you wiped the stray tears from your cheeks. “Let’s get you out of those soppin’ clothes, okay?" Guzma suggested, his voice quiet, yet reassuring. He looked around his messy room, broken bottles piling up in the corner, clothes thrown around. Guzma managed to find a clean pair of gym shorts in all the chaos. He glanced around once more and with a sheepish, awkward grin he shrugged off his jacket and extended it in offering.

      As soon as you had changed his hands were back on you, pulling you in for another hug. He set you back at arms length, looking you once over. "You’re really wearing my clothes, huh, looking all cute n shit,” he paused, reveling in the small chuckle that fell from your lips and into the small space created between your head and his chest as you fell back into him. “You didn’t get hurt, did you?” Guzma asked pressing a heavy kiss to the top of your head, still damp from the storm, but he didn’t seem to mind.

      “No, I’m alright,” you replied, shaking your head and wrapping your arms even tighter around Guzma’s torso. You didn’t understand how he stayed so lean and muscular despite his horrible diet, maybe it was all the training he put himself and his Golisopod through. You weren’t complaining though, you were sure there wasn’t a place on the planet that felt safer than one of his giant, encompassing bear hugs, wrapped up in his strong arms.

      “I’m glad, I’d have to go pulverize some punks if you weren’t, and I don’t really feel like doin’ that right now.” Guzma rested his head on top of yours, gently swaying the two of you back and forth. Guzma really was a playful boyfriend, like right now you knew he wanted something, but he never liked to tell you himself.

      “What do you want to do then?” You asked, trying your best to drag it out of him. You knew he was doing this on purpose, one of his adorable games that was also good for getting your mind off of the negative.

      “Hmm, besides spending time with you, I’m not sure I know,” Guzma loosened his grip on your waist, pulling away to give you his signature smirk.

     “A Pokemon battle?”

      “Nah.”

     “A hot cup of Tapu Cocoa?”

     “Ah, you know I hardly ever pass those up, but not exactly what I had in mind…” Guzma trailed off.

     “I know!” You exclaimed, smiling, “You want to go get in bed and give your girlfriend the best cuddles ever to help cheer her up!”

     Guzma gave you his dopiest grin, “Right on, doll!” He picked you up, almost effortlessly, and carried you over to the bed where he (gently) tossed you onto the pile of pillows and soft blankets. He collapsed into bed next to you, turning on his side to face you and propping his head up with his hand. “Do ya maybe wanna talk about it?” Your boyfriend asked cautiously as you situated yourself in bed, mirroring his position.

      “Maybe later,” You muttered, looking down at the sheets, feeling the tears flooding your eyes again. You had almost stopped crying, but once you started up it was hard to stop. You felt a few fat tears roll down your cheeks before quickly reining your emotions back in. Sometimes it was just nice to cry and get all your pent up emotions out.

      “How come you still manage to look beautiful with tears all over ya face, huh, babe?” Guzma whispered, bringing his hands up to cup your face and wipe your tears away with his thumbs. You laughed lightly, a smile forcing its way onto your face along with a burning blush, looking up to meet his eyes and kind smile. At that moment you were really able to see Guzma for who he really was. His eyes were warm, but the heavy, dark circles beneath them were not. Ingrained under his eyes after many cold nights alone, many sleepless and many overslept. Yet after all that, Guzma was gentle, kind, and his stormy grey eyes were calm, at least when they were turned to you. Grey like a solid, steady rock, always there for you to lean and rely on.

     “I, I want you to know. I love you, okay?” His voice was soft, shaky, a manner you had never heard from Guzma before. He paused for a second, then falling back in to his usual tough guy façade, “An I ain’t saying it again, I’m not no sap.”

       Smile bright and hands shaking, you reached up to run your fingers through the back of his undercut, bringing his face closer so you could smash your mouth to his. You conveyed all your love, trust, and appreciation in that kiss, pulling away and holding his cheek in your hand.

     “Maybe I should say that more often then,” Guzma said, winking, a chuckle rolling from deep in his chest. You still caught the delicate blush that had settled in along Guzma’s cheekbones and over the bridge of his nose. You made Guzma get up to turn off the light and open the curtains so the room filled with a the gentle, dim grey light that had made its way past the storm clouds. You were too cozy to get up yourself, and Guzma was happy to do so for you. He’d do anything for you, and he hoped one day he could find the courage to tell you that, and much more.

      You smiled and hummed in contentment as he returned to bed and snuggled up close to you. With your head on his chest you could hear his heartbeat steadily thumping, the rain drizzling outside with gentle rolls of thunder, and the occasional whisper from Guzma of his newest crazy idea. Heat radiated off of him and his arm was lazily draped around your side. You knew you definitely made the right decision going into his room, and you hoped you’d never have to leave. 

[volleyball-dontknowher]

Surprise- Tanaka x reader

A/N sorry for this I really am someone send help 

WARNING: NSFW CONTENT HERE 

You’d been planning this for weeks now, you just had to find the right time to surprise him, and it looked like tonight was perfect. You’d gotten a text from Tanaka about an hour ago 

Hey, I’m gonna be late, sorry

That’s okay babe, Love you <3 see you soon 

You could tell that he wasn’t happy about staying late at practice, he didn’t even say babe or honey in his text. It was the third time this week that practice had run late and he was missing you. Every time he got home you were already asleep and he had to have reheated dinner by himself instead of fresh with you. After he'd eat he'd hop in the shower then come and wrap his arms around you for some sort of affection before he fell asleep. When you'd wake up in the morning he'd already left and gone to the gym. Even though he was gone he always left you a cup of coffee and a little note that told you when you should expect him back home, but this morning his note was rushed and tired. All it said was love you.7 tonight 

This was a lot different from the usual I love you and I hope you have a great day and having him message what you wanted for dinner. You knew you had to do something special for him and you knew exactly what that was. You got everything all prepped and ready for when he would finally be home.

Hours later you hear the door creep open and his bag drop with a thud. It was time. You were in your cozy sweats and had been scrolling on your phone until he got there. You waited for him to take his shoes off before going to meet him at the door. You couldn't have wished for a better reaction from Ryuu. The moment he saw you were there and actually awake for once this week he scooped you up into his arms and gave you a kiss. 

“Welcome home big man” you banter with him between quick kisses- this was going to be better than you thought. 

After he's done with his excited embrace you pull him into the kitchen so the two of you could eat dinner together. The entire time he is smiling at you with nothing but love in his eyes. Tanaka has fallen for you so hard and he thinks that you are a walking goddess that he cannot believe chose to be with someone like him. You make his delinquent looking self soft, he's discovered a new side of him he never thought existed before you. 

After dinner you grab his hand and lead him to the living room and sat him down on the couch before dimming the lights and turning on some music. The whole time Tanaka is sitting there watching you confused but not surprised, sometimes on days like this the two of you would just cuddle on the couch for a bit before bed. Boy was he wrong, once you were done turning on the music you went back oh over to him and told him

“Remember Ruu you can look but you can't touch, okay?”

And before you gave him a chance to respond you were already pulling off your sweatshirt to reveal red lace lingerie. His mouth fell open and all he wanted to do was grab a handful of titty but as he was reaching for it you smacked his hand away and continued to take off your pants. Once you'd taken everything off you proceeded to put your hair down and give him a wink. 

“I just want to show you a good time, okay? Sit still and let me do the work”

Those words alone made him rock hard and you haven't even done anything yet so imagine the surprise when you climb into his lap and start rubbing up and down his chest. You then pepper little kisses down his neck and Tanaka groans and goes to grab your face before stopping himself. You then start to grind on him, which almost makes him lose his cool right there. But you keep going and run your fingers over his scalp and nibble at his ears and down his neck. He’s groaning and moaning after every touch and once you can tell he's about to end your show early you climb off his lap and start dancing with the music, you're rubbing up and down your body, swaying your hips and making direct eye contact with your boyfriend. 

“Fuck babe you're so fucking hot”

You continue dancing and pulling at the lingerie to tease him knowing perfectly well what will happen next.

“No seriously babe get over here. Now. “

He's about to lose it and you both know it so you take it one step further and stick your fingers in your mouth and start sucking on them slowly. 

Before you can every process what has happened Tanaka has thrown you over his shoulder and is taking you to the bedroom 

“You really think you're gonna tease me like that and get away with it? Fuck babe you’re so fucking hot”

He tosses you on the bed and is already hovering above you hungrily kissing any part of you that he can and squeezing both of your boobs. He suddenly pulls off your bra and is sucking on one nipple while twirling the other between his fingers. He's close to losing it and he knows it, he's practically humping the mattress to give himself any sort of relief. You grab his face and give him a sloppy kiss while his fingers start working off your panties. Once his fingers finally reach your center you're a moaning mess.

“Fuck babe you’re so fucking wet.” 

“Tanaka please…: you barely whisper

“Please what? Tease you like you teased me? Come on babe that's only fair”

“Nooooo please Tanaka-senpai please fuck me, please please please pleaseee”

You did it, you got your way. He is on you in a second kissing every part of your body while he pulls off his pants and then rips off his shirt. You wrap your hands around his neck and savor the kiss before he lines himself up with your entrance. With one thrust he’s completely within you and you both let out a load moan. He has to give himself a second so he won’t lose it right there and so you can adjust to his length. After he’s composed himself he starts moving at a fast and brutal pace. Every time you moan he goes faster because he cannot handle himself and loves how you feel against him. He can tell when you start to get close and pulls your legs up so that he’s hitting a different angle that makes you scream. 

“Tanaka, oh fuck babe oh babe you’re doing such a good job.”

“That’s right make sure that everyone can hear who’s making you feel this good” 

He moves one of his hands to rub your clit while he watches you in awe. 

“Fuck babe fuck babe Tanaka-senpai please can I come?” 

You don’t even wait for his response because you are already over the edge and are screaming his name as you come. He continues thrusting into you a couple more times and comes moaning your name as well as any and everything that comes to his mind. 

After the two of you come down from your highs Tanaka gets up to get a rag for you but you decide to meet him in the bathroom and suggest the two of you take a shower, and he’s already ready for a round two… Your little surprise worked better than you thought it would. 

[heungtanbts]

Quarter Life Crisis

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre/warning: slow burn friends to lovers!au, friend zoning, being dense AF, swearing & sarcastic bantering, a smidge of angst, explicit implications of smut

word count: 25k 

A/N: guys. i’ve never written something this long and in depth before and i honestly don’t know how to feel about it. but i do know i have a newfound respect for fic writers. i poured so much time and effort into this, and can only imagine what other writers go through so please remember to show your fave writers love for all their hard work! 

In the movies, the recently graduated, mid-twenties protagonist sets off on the journey of life and seems to immediately land a fantastic job, find a stellar unit in an even more luxurious apartment complex, gets a fancy car with a name that’s impossible to pronounce, is in a long term relationship from college and is going to receive a proposal within the next few months (but doesn’t know it yet), and basically, has life all figured out. If movies are going to portray young adult life like that, then that’s ideally what your twenties should be like, right? Being young, educated, ready to take on the world, further discovering yourself and finding true love.

This, however, is not what you imagined your mid-twenties to be like.

Sitting in a comfy pair of capri leggings and an oversized college t-shirt, you sink into your sofa and suck in a labored breath. You really shouldn’t have finished that last bit of Shanghai fried noodles. T’was a mistake, a horrible mistake. Rolling down the waistband of your leggings, your belly pops out, set free, and you finally feel like you can breathe again.

“Wow, you’re really packin’ heat there, huh Pillsbury?” A low voice calls mockingly from across the room.

“Shut up, I’m proud of my life achievements okay.” You immediately retaliate, not even bothering to look at the other potato potato-ing at the opposite end of the sofa.

You hear him snort incredulously. “Ah yes, because ‘he who achieves the pudge, achieves in life.’ Definitely heard Yoda say that one somewhere.”

Letting your head lull to the side, you can’t stop yourself from snickering at the sight of Jungkook sitting criss-cross-apple-sauce, hands held up in OK signs, eyes shut and head bobbing from side to side ridiculously in what you deem to be an extremely inaccurate impersonation of Yoda. Why you continue to hang out with this dweeb and allow him to put his nasty feet up on your coffee table right after hitting the gym for two hours is beyond you. Must be because it’s Friday night, affectionately known as Fat Friday, and he’s always the one who brings take out, like it’s a peace offering of some sort. That’s why.

At this age you would’ve never imagined that life would consist of a weekly Fat Friday “take out and a movie” routine with your best friend from college. As a young adult, you know you’re fortunate to have a stable 8-5 job that you don’t hate, a clean and cozy apartment unit in the city (with in unit laundry machines, bless up) and a small group of friends that stand by you through thick and thin. But after spending so many days and years like this, you can’t help but question it all.

According to those damn rom-coms, you should be out going on adventures, mingling with new people, sipping on over-priced drinks, showing up to the club with your posse and, maybe if you’re lucky, waltzing out with a newly acquired friend for the night. But here you are instead, having a chopsticks war with Jungkook over the last crab rangoon Kung-fu Panda style, even though you’re so full, the delicious fried appetizer might just have to sit in your throat for a while until your digestive system can make room for it. Living in your twenties is wild, just absolutely wild.

“God, please don’t tell me you do this when you go on dates.” Jungkook looks at you in both disgust and awe as you pop the last crab rangoon in your mouth, chewing noisily on purpose to rub it in his face while simultaneously enjoying the crunch.

“What, eat?” A speck of crab escapes and lands on your chin. Now Jungkook definitely looks more grossed out than amazed as he reaches out to thumb at your chin, removing the bit of artificial seafood and making a face as he wipes it on a nearby napkin.

“No, this isn’t eating. This is straight up a clip from the Discovery Channel about predators swallowing their prey.” He deadpans. “It’s like you’re training to be a food fighter, or something.”

You suddenly look up, eyes beaming with enlightenment, “That’s it, a food fighter, of course! That’s what I should be pursuing in life! Jeon, for once, you and your one brain cell have managed to come up with a brilliant idea.”

Jungkook doesn’t even seem phased by your insult and just moves to make himself comfortable, kicking his feet up on the coffee table as per usual. “You know, I actually think you could do it. With the way you eat- no, inhale food, you could show the world your one and only talent – gluttony.” He grins victoriously only to have to whip his neck from side to side in order to avoid the used chopsticks you spear at him, the wooden sticks clattering onto the linoleum floor. You scowl openly from having missed, settling back onto the sofa with your arms crossed over your chest.

“I could start my own muk-bang stream.” You think aloud, seriously considering the occupation for a moment. “Look cute, eat ten packets of ramen, answer questions about my life from the millions of die-hard fans watching – I could totally live that life.”

Jungkook chuckles at the mental imagery he gets, “Yeah, and then majestically throw up for your two whole precious fans to witness. Real cute.” His lip quirks upwards, “Those two poor fans, scarred for life, never able to heal from the trauma.”

You glare at him. “Just wait until my boyfriend hears of this, he won’t stand for this kind of abuse you give me. Is this even friendship? Where’s the love? The support?” You clutch at your chest dramatically, “Where’s the camaraderie, best friend? Where’s the-” You’re so rudely cut off by a pillow to the face, thrown by none other than your so-called best friend.

“Puh-lease, Park SeoJoon is way out of your league. I said it. Sniff sniff, cry cry, get over it, babe.”

You frown, shaking a closed fist at him. “One day, Jeon, you’ll see. One day.” With a defeated sigh, you flop onto your back and throw your feet up onto Jungkook’s lap, ignoring the “ugh your feet smell” comment he makes and instead, focusing on the dreary white ceiling of your unit.

The both of you know it’s just harmless joking when you refer to Park SeoJoon as your boyfriend and whenever Jungkook makes fun of your eating habits and pudgy food babies. To strangers, the way you two interact may seem a bit harsh and pretty immature, but for the two of you, the playful insults and level of savagery are just right. It’s a relief that you can bicker and banter with him and know there are no hard feelings, that you two know each other well enough to know where the lines that should not be crossed are. But it hasn’t always been this way.

When you first met Jungkook freshman year of college, he was ridiculously shy, probably one of the most soft spoken and just plain awkward people you’d ever met. So much so that, being the decent, civilized human being you were, you felt completely obligated to be nice back, mostly because you were afraid he might cry if you accidentally looked him in the eye or something. He seemed so delicate, perpetually wide eyed and fearful, and for that reason, you felt a little more distant from him and closer with the other guys. You were able to freely throw around insults and make all the snarky jabs you wanted around them. Jungkook was just too quiet, and thus you were too nice to him. That is, until one day, your mutual friend Taehyung proposed the idea of having a Mario Kart tournament out of boredom, and somehow it ended up being just you and Jungkook in the final race. Spoiler alert – you beat Jungkook. Blue shelled him right at the finish line and cackled like a disney villain as you cut right in front and took first place. You’ll never forget that moment – it was the first time he ever swore at you. Actually, that was the first time you ever heard Jungkook swear period – ears red at the tips, cheating accusations and demands for a rematch flying around chaotically. But ever since then, that weird wall between you two came crashing down, and that is how your beautiful meme of a friendship came to be.

In the comfortable silence, some random Marvel movie on in the background, you glance over at your best friend, lips involuntarily curling up into a smile. You’re more than glad that those walls came down that day, that you were able to spend majority of your college days attached at the hip, that now, as annoying as he may be, Jungkook is still by your side to this day, eating greasy take-out with you and spending what should be a lively night out, at home instead, vegging out and pigging out. A very nice Friday evening in, with a blubbery food baby. And Park SeoJoon as your imaginary boyfriend. You suddenly groan at the thought and shove your face into the pillow Jungkook just threw at you. It’s been approximately three years since your last relationship, but for some reason it feels like it’s been so much longer than that. That relationship with your then college boyfriend ended shortly after graduation and you can’t believe that was truly the last time you dated someone. You remember spending two weeks ruining Jungkook’s shirts one by one with your snot and tears while hugging tubs of melting ice cream to your chest. Three. Whole. Years. Ago.

You let out another groan and it’s louder this time, even with the pillow muffling your mouth. You’re unable to control your train of thought as it travels to a more stressful place, ruining your once zen state of mind on this lovely Fat Friday evening. What are you even doing with your life? Or to put more accurately, what are you doing wrong with your life? Are you doing something wrong? It just feels like at this point, you should you be doing something more, chasing after your goals and dreams, or at least have some more adult characteristics to your life. While it’s very true that you already have so much to be thankful for, for some reason it just feels like you’re doing something wrong – or something’s just missing. Everyone else seems to have it all together, so why do you still feel like you’re ten steps behind?

You must’ve groaned a couple times more without even realizing it because moments later, the pillow is abruptly snatched away from your face, revealing a very puzzled Jungkook.

“What are you moaning and groaning about?” He asks, raising a brow before giving you a look of utter disbelief. “Is it because of what I said about Park SeoJoon? Woman, for the last time, you just gotta accept the fact that it’s not gonna happen and move on with your li-”

“Jungkook,” You interject, voice quieter than normal. “Am- am I just doing this all wrong?”  

Jungkook abruptly comes to a halt, his mouth still hanging open silently from when you cut him off. A slew of jokes and insults remains lodged in his throat as his chocolate eyes closely study your face. You can tell he’s internally debating on how seriously he should be taking your words. Like is this a “reply with another joke” kind of situation, or a “sit down, tell me what’s wrong” kind of conversation that’s about to happen? It feels like this is always how conversations are between the two of you, they can switch from childish insults to pondering the meaning of life in the blink of an eye. Luckily, Jungkook’s used to it by now – having sudden and unexpectedly deep conversations with you doesn’t terrify him anymore like it used to in the past.  

“What do you mean by that?” Jungkook inquires, deciding it’d be best to tread carefully. He uncrosses his legs and places his feet on the floor, elbows resting on his knees in a much more serious posture.

Over time, he’s gotten so good at feeling you out and directing the conversation as needed, even though he used to have internal melt downs every time you would open up to him. He’s gotten so much better at having conversations period – he handles them like champ now.

“What are we doing Jeon?” The words come out as a deflated sigh, an accurate description of how you feel at the moment. “It’s Friday night and while people our age are spending way too much money getting drunk and having fun taking over the city, we’re upholding a Friday tradition that consists of eating pure oil and poking at our food babies.” Jungkook immediately glances down at his own stomach before meeting your eyes again.

“Uh, I don’t have a food baby so you’re kind of alone on that one.” Jungkook corrects you, rubbing his hand up and down against his flat stomach. You shoot him the deadliest glare you can conjure up. It’s not your fault your body was made to cling to blubber in order to have babies and produce life in this world.

“What, you wanna just go out then?” Jungkook suggests, ignoring the daggers you send his way. “We always have the option to go out and get drunk, you know. If that’s what you wanna do, let’s just call some people up and go then.” Giving the glare a rest, you shake your head, arms and legs splayed out like a starfish as you stare up at nothing, another sigh heavy on your chest.

“That’s not it, Jeon. I just- ugh, I don’t know.” You twist around and smack your fists and feet against the sofa cushion, like a child throwing a mini tantrum. “All I know is that I’m young, I’m single, with all the time in the world and yet here I am, living life like a retired grandma.”

“Hey, what’s wrong with being a retired grandma? That’s like the ultimate goal in life.” Jungkook tuts, leaning forward to grab his bazillionth fried egg roll of the night. That boy is an intergalactic blackhole when it comes to food, yet he never has a food baby, damn damn damn.

“When I was 18, I remember wanting to hurry up and grow up and be in my twenties already.” You reminisce, still focusing on the popcorn pattern decorating the ceiling, “I figured by the time I was 26, I’d have discovered my true passions while exploring my twenties, that I’d be married, settled down after having fully lived out my younger years, maybe on the way with a little one or two, I don’t know.” You bemoan. “I guess adulthood just isn’t what I expected it to be.”

“So what you’re saying is you want to get pregnant.” Jungkook’s smiles mischievously as he leans towards you, flashing you a wink, “That can be easily arranged.”

“Pervert,” You jokingly shove him away, and he just chuckles. “You know that’s not what I meant. Plus I’m not ready to have kids, could you even imagine it?” Your eyes widen comically in horror, “I can barely take care of myself – God knows if I’d be able to keep a tiny, fragile human being alive.” 

“True, those succulents you got for your birthday last year barely lasted two weeks,” Jungkook raises his cup to his lips, coughing under his breath before taking a sip, “even though they’re like the easiest plants to raise.”

“Please, rub more salt on my wound Jeon, I insist!”

Jungkook gives you a satisfied smirk before his demeanor morphs into something more serious, fingers rubbing at his chin thoughtfully. “I mean, I don’t think you’re doing anything wrong,” He muses, eyes flicking upwards to meet yours as he gives you one of his gentle, heartwarming smiles – the rare kind that comes out when he’s done joking and ready to comfort you.

“Think about it, you’ve pretty much met majority of the societal standards there are for being a young adult in this day and age. You’re educated, you have a job with a steady pay, got your own place, and you lead a pretty stable lifestyle.” He absentmindedly plays with the cup in his hands. “But I don’t think there’s anything wrong with still not knowing exactly what it is you want to do, or what next steps you want to take. Like so what if you’re single, lots of people are.” Jungkook shrugs. “Who even says that has to be the next step you take? I think it’s still okay that you are,” he looks down at his hands, expression soft, “that we are, still trying to figure things out, one day at a time, you know?”

You hum in agreement, Jungkook’s words bringing immediate comfort to your restless mind. He’s right. It’s not like you’ve made any grave mistakes or have some monumental life-or death issue to face. It’s not a sin to just do your own thing and not follow the “standard” steps of life people usually take. It’s just that the concept of it all, the topic itself, makes you feel like a baby – a very lost, disappointed, overgrown cry-baby because you don’t really feel put together or like you know what you’re doing. But like Jungkook said, that’s okay. It’s alright that you’re still trying to figure it all out, at your own pace – you’re slowly creating your own path.

“Since when did you get so wise, huh Jeon?” You smile, spirits lifted and already feeling a lot better than just a few minutes ago. Jungkook just always seems to know what to say to make you feel better.

He just shrugs with a jokingly cocky pout of his lips, “I’m the quarter life crisis guru, come to me with all your first world problems and you shall find enlightenment.” His words automatically make you punch him in the arm lightly and all you can afford is a weak insult muttered under your breath with a small smile on your lips.

If you were to have this conversation with anyone else besides Jungkook, you would probably die before admitting such embarrassingly trivial, quarter-life-crisis complaints. It hurts your pride, being an adult and having to admit you don’t really know what you’re doing with life. But because this is Jungkook, the insecurities of your heart come out so easily. No matter how much you joke around or annoy each other, he’s your closest and most trusted confidant. He’s actually a great listener – so honest yet gentle with his words (when he’s being serious, of course), and with him, figuring out life’s problems isn’t as daunting of a task. With him, conversations flow, anxiety is immediately blanketed over with a comforting peace, solutions are developed more smoothly, plans get put into action more proactively. He may still be salty every time he sees a blue shell and still gives you hell for it to this day, but if he was really that annoyed by you, he wouldn’t be sitting on your couch, listening to you complain and trying to help you figure out your life. That’s Jungkook for you – good old reliable Jungkook.

“Did someone say quarter life crisis?” You both whip your heads toward the door at the familiar voice that suddenly calls out of nowhere. “If it’s ___ we’re talking about, then she just needs to get laid. Problem solved.” That same voice lets out a yelp when a bunny slipper comes flying at his head.

“We have intruders.” You mutter as you look down at your one bare foot, the moment completely ruined. “I knew I shouldn’t have given you guys a spare key.”

“But you did, and it comes in handy in times like these.” Another voice, lighter and higher pitched than the first, pipes up. You allow your eyes to close, as if trying to take in the last bits of comfort from your conversation with Jungkook as jackets and bags are rustled around, the sound of footsteps growing louder and closer to you.

“How long have you guys been standing there?” Jungkook questions the newly arrived guests.

“Long enough to know that ___ needs to get some.” The first voice replies teasingly. Eyes still closed, the couch quickly sinks down next you, and an arm is thrown around your shoulders, “So, the well’s a bit dry this season, huh?”

“Oh my god shut up, Tae.”

“It’s drought season and the crops are in need of a good ol’ watering, ayy?”

“I’m seriously going to punch your face in.”

“Moses parted the Red Sea and then just left it parted, huh? Tsk tsk, the cruel man.”

Back in college, once those barriers between you and Jungkook came down, they seemed to come down with everyone else as well. As you and the others really started to get to know Jungkook, you quickly learned that he was the complete opposite of how he initially presented himself. He wasn’t shy at all, or timid in the least – the boy loved to joke around and once he was comfortable, would shoot playful insults left and right and make all the sassy comments just as much as you did, if not more. Because of that, he could be a real pain, since he seemed to thrive off of messing with you and seeing your reactions. But if you thought Jungkook was a pain in the ass, then Taehyung proved himself to be a real thirty-six-foot flagpole up your ass. No one ever guessed that timid little Jungkook would click so well with Taehyung and that together as a team of evil, they would cause you so much misery. It was to the point that everyone knew better than to leave the three of you alone together for longer than five minutes – for the sake of world peace. Though after growing up a little and leaving college, Taehyung stopped mucking around as much, and he seemed to calm down even more once he and Hari got together. But the little shit-head spirit still lives on inside of him to this day – it’s a light that no one can snuff out. Bless Hari’s heart for continuing to keep tight reins on him and love his sorry ass.

Before you can show him the fullness of your wrath, Taehyung gives you a shit-eating grin and quickly bounces over to the other section of the couch where his girlfriend, aka your closest gal pal and college roommate Hari has taken a seat, pulling his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around her shoulders.

“She’s being awfully scary today, what’d you do Kook?”

Jungkook lets out an offended huff, and he’s right back to his normal, sarcastic self. “The hell did I do, I brought her highness take out on my way back from the gym and we’re watching her favorite Iron Man again for the umpteenth time.” He crosses his arms over his chest, “I’ve done nothing wrong.” 

“You love Iron Man as much as I do, bitch. Don’t even try me with that shit.”

“See? Major case of the grumps.”

Hari peels Taehyung’s arms off and gives him a scolding look when he whines before making her way to your side. She places a comforting hand on your back, peering down at your distraught face. “You alright, ­___? What’s up?”

“Ugh, it’s nothing, really.” You hide your face in your hands, “It’s literally not a big deal, I’m just a little irked, I guess.” Though it hurts your pride, you decide to be a little more honest, since they’ve already heard bits of your conversation with Jungkook. “Just debating whether I’m living my 26-year-old life right or not, that’s all.”

Hari raises her eyebrows, as if she can’t believe what her ears are hearing. “You’ve got a grown ass man who brings you take out all the time and willingly gives you free reign over his Netflix account. Looks to me you’re living the life, bub.”

“I think that was supposed to make me feel appreciated, but it just made me sound whipped as hell.”

Hari waves a hand dismissively at Jungkook, who scowls and starts reconsidering his life choices. “So what, you wanna go out and do something then? Something to make you feel better? Or in general, how can we,” She gestures to the three of them in a circular motion, “help convince you that you’re doing life just fine?”

“I’m telling ya, she just needs to get boned.” Taehyung mumbles while happily chewing on a fortune cookie. “See, even my fortune cookie agrees with me – thou must get the D in order to succeed.” You abruptly stand to your feet, turning to him with poisonous daggers shooting from your eyes.

“That’s it, get your punk ass over here, you little-“

“A boyfriend!” Hari suddenly clasps her hands together, an imaginary light bulb flickering over her head, “___ needs more than just a one-night stand, babe – we need to get her a mans.” You halt in your forward lunge towards Taehyung, who’s curled up in fetal position with his hands covering his head, and turn to her, your eyebrows knitting together in disbelief.

“You really think getting a boyfriend’s going to make me feel better?”

She nods eagerly, looking utterly convinced. “Let’s consider the facts for a moment, shall we? You’ve been out of school and working for a couple of years now, you’ve got this pad in the city all to yourself and nothing to do but eat junk and re-watch old superhero movies,” Your mouth falls open to protest, but Hari puts a finger to your lips, shushing you effectively. “And you’re having all these quarter-life-crisis symptoms. Maybe the issue is that it’s time for you to move on to the next chapter of your life, which in this case could be—”

“—finding a bae.” Taehyung finishes for her, his eyes wide as saucers as he uncurls from his fetal position to sit up on the couch. “Makes sense to me! HyukJae was what, three years ago? And you’ve been single ever since. Now that you’re an established, independent woman, there’s nothing holding you back from finding someone to do life with.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you.  

There’s a beat of silence, but you wonder if the others can hear the gears turning in your head as you contemplate this proposal. It literally goes against everything Jungkook just said, finding a boyfriend just because it’s the proper “next step” you should be taking. Plus it’s not like you need a man to make your life complete – you’re already happily successful in sustaining yourself and your relationships with what you’ve got right now. But, you have to admit, a special someone could help spice things up a little, make life a little more fun and a little less drab. Maybe this person could help push you out of your comfort zone to go explore the city, find some new hobbies, get out of the apartment and try something new period. Maybe this significant other could help pave this new path for you and your life, because if lazy people were an army, then you would be the head chief in command, so God knows you need the help. So maybe, maybe you just need a little outside push to get you going.

The more you think about it, the more convinced you are that it’s at least worth a shot, and the determination slowly begins to grow inside of you. You know what Jungkook said but you figure taking this step is better than doing nothing at all. You suddenly stand up and pump your fist in the air like it’s a declaration of war, and you end up startling the others with your abrupt actions.

“Okay, let’s do it.” You announce, finding a new sense of motivation within you. “Let’s go and find me a mans! HUZZAH!”

Hari jumps up and squeals, immediately grabbing your phone off the coffee table and gushing about helping you make a dating profile and about which apps would be best for you to use. In the midst of all the commotion, Jungkook remains silent, his eyes trained on the floor, expression hard to read. But the excitement is too dizzying for you to notice. You just can’t help but have a good feeling about this next step in your life.

- - - - - 

“Okay, bread, check. Rice… check. Veggies, strawberries, bananas, check check check.”

“Don’t forget my Lucky Charms.”

Looking up from your phone, you cock your head at the man with the messy wavy hair casually leaning on the shopping cart rail, a look of disbelief painted on your face. “I still don’t get why I have to include your favorite cereal on my grocery list, Jeon.” Jungkook makes a funny face at you, one that makes him look dramatically offended, the cart coming to an abrupt stop.

“Um, first of all, Lucky Charms should be everyone’s favorite cereal, including yours. And second, I need to keep a box at your place for when we do delivery ‘cause I need something to eat right after working out or else I feel like I’m gonna die – literally.”

You roll your eyes and ignore the way Jungkook shoots a grin your way as he continues to push the cart. “You’re a grown ass man who makes his own money, get your own sugary cereal.”

“Do you want your best friend to starve to death? Is that the kind of love we’ve got here?”

“And you call me dramatic.”

Pausing at the cereal section, you internally groan after seeing that some jerk just had to put all the boxes of Lucky Charms up on the top shelf. You need to have a word with the grocery store manager about discriminating so openly against short people like this.

“So speaking of bananas, how’s the dating app thing going?” Jungkook asks casually, whistling along to the song they’re playing at the store. This time you groan externally, lowering your head down to rest it on the other available half of the shopping cart handle.

“You did not just use bananas as a segway into this conversation.”

Jungkook hums in indifference, pushing the cart along and smiling to himself when you continue to walk with him, still face down and leaning on the shopping cart. He suddenly comes to a stop which results in you hitting your head against the metal bars where infants are supposed to sit, and you mutter a curse at him, rubbing the sore spot as you meet his eyes with a glare. He just arches a brow innocently and points up at the shelf, looking all too smug for your liking. “Found the Lucky Charms.”

You let out a huff before nudging Jungkook out of the way. “I mean, it’s only been three days, but it’s going alright, I guess.” You inform him, making your way towards the shelves. “I’ve only talked to like two guys so far, but honestly it’s just, kinda weird? I don’t know, it just doesn’t feel natural at all, so that’s been rough.”

It’s only been a few days since your little eureka moment about seizing the day and giving your adult life a re-vamping. It’s been strange, having small talk conversation with potential dates with only having a few pictures and some witty captions and quotes on their “About Me” pages to go off of. Technology has certainly reinvented the way people date nowadays, but you can’t help but miss meeting people naturally through mutual friends or at a social event or something. Nevertheless, Hari’s been harping on you every day about any new matches you’ve made and keeping close tabs on your conversations with your matches, but it surprises you that Jungkook’s suddenly taking interest in this whole spiel. He’s seemed so uninterested in this from the start, which was a bit disappointing if you’re being honest. You had hoped you’d be able to talk to him more about it and get his opinions on your matches and who seemed good and who seemed like a left-swipe, only to get less than enthusiastic input from him. So for him to suddenly bring it up on his own volition is certainly an unexpected surprise.

“Mmm, I see.” You don’t even notice the way Jungkook’s voice dumbs down a notch from behind, too busy staring up at the colorful rainbow box above your head as determination settles in your stomach. If you just believe in yourself, you can do it – you will reach that goddamn box of cereal for your goddamned best friend and his childish taste palate, even if it kills you. This isn’t for Jungkook – this is for all the other shorties in the world.

You make your first attempt to reach the cereal. You’re up on your toes and then come straight back down, your fingers not even coming close to reaching the stupid box when Jungkook finally speaks up again. “What- what do you even look for in a guy, anyways?”

You pause for a moment, stopping yourself from jumping up for your second attempt to turn and face Jungkook. Even though the two of you are best friends, you realize you don’t really talk about this kind of stuff with him. Hari is always your go-to friend for these types of conversations, and it dawns on you that not only does Jungkook not know what your ideal type is, but you also have no idea what his is either. You’re surprised to discover something you don’t know about your best friend.

“Well, for starters, I’d appreciate it if he wasn’t a serial killer.” You muse, tapping your index finger on your chin thoughtfully. “I also feel like I like guys who are tall, have nice hair, who keep themselves fit and know how to dress well. You know, a guy who knows how to be a basic human being.”

“Oh, so basically me.” Jungkook quips, “I’m flattered, babe, really. Didn’t know you were so into this.” He sticks his tongue out when you smack his arm in response.

“Someone who wears anything besides hoodies and basketball shorts.” You emphasize jokingly, sticking your tongue out right back at him.

Jungkook raises his brows. “So wearing nothing? I could dig the nudist life, sounds chill.”

You snort, “Please, Jeon, spare us all.” Turning back to the shelves, you continue to think aloud. “I don’t know, I just want someone who’s easy to talk to, like a friend, someone who likes to joke around, but can be serious when needed. Someone who’s passionate about his ambitions in life and is a real go-getter, unlike myself. Someone who will be romantic and loyal – not like all the cheese you see in the movies, but in his own special way. You know,” you shrug, coming up onto your toes as you take another unsuccessful swipe at the box of cereal, your fingertips grazing the edge of it, “someone who will just love me right, I guess.” With a little hop, you accidentally push the cereal box an inch backwards and it pulls a frustrated noise out of you. But you are determined to stay here all night if it means you’ll be able to get this cereal box down yourself. Fucking Jungkook and his cereal needs. 

“What about you, Jeon?” You grunt out, this time reaching up with your other arm, as if it’ll make a difference. “What’s your type?” A rush of excitement comes over you when you manage to sneak the box back to its original spot, and now you can almost get two fingers around it.

“I…don’t really know.” You hear Jungkook say softly behind you, but you’re too zoned in on those damn Lucky Charms to notice the change in his demeanor. “I agree with a lot of the traits you named off, I guess.”

“What, you want someone tall, athletic, and well-dressed too?” You can most definitely hear Jungkook roll his eyes at that comment, and it makes you smile, even as you continue to struggle to make contact with the flimsy cardboard box, muttering incoherent complaints under your breath.

“I mean if he isn’t Park SeoJoon, then I’m not interested.”

Still facing the shelves, you can’t help but laugh at his mocking tone, even though you know he’s mimicking you. “Okay seriously though, I just realized I don’t know really this stuff about you. And come to think of it, I haven’t seen you date someone in like years.”

There’s a short pause in the conversation when suddenly you feel something warm press up against your back, and it startles you. You crane your neck upwards at a diagonal to see what it is and nearly let out a yelp. Jungkook’s face is merely inches away from yours, his eyes fixed on the box of Lucky Charms above. The scent of light soap and clean laundry detergent mixed with something slightly musky overwhelms your senses as he leans forward and presses himself against your back even more, the sensation causing a breath to become lodged in your throat. Without even having to rise onto his toes, he easily grabs the dumb box of Lucky Charms, finally ending your misery in more ways than just one, and before your body can even experience a full-on proper reaction, he’s already moving, a sudden chill replacing the warmth on your back as he moves to toss the cereal into the cart.

“Yeah, last time I dated was Ji Soo my sophomore year. Damn, that was a long time ago.” Jungkook recalls, leaning on the cart and continuing to push it down the aisle, not having any clue what he just did. He has no clue that your heart is suddenly thumping wildly in your chest, and that a heat is starting to spread across your cheeks, and you have to physically pinch yourself to snap out of it before Jungkook can notice something’s off.

Whenever Jungkook is physical with you, it’s almost always tied in with a joke or is just a part of the platonic comfort you two share with one another. Ruffling your hair, having his head or feet in your lap, pinching his cheeks – none of that is out of the ordinary. But feeling his back against you, his body so close and radiating heat onto your skin, breath puffing over your cheeks – this is all uncharted territory for you. And as his best friend, you’re not quite sure how to process the physiological effects you’re experiencing from it. You’re still in a bit of a daze, and you end up trailing a few steps behind him, close enough to keep up with the conversation but far enough to allow your body calm down. It’s sad how worked up you got just from your male best friend pressing himself up against you so suddenly. Maybe Taehyung is right and you’re just in desperate need for some physical intimacy or something.

“Ground ginger’s next on the list.” You mumble timidly, following Jungkook as he rounds the corner and into the next aisle. “B-but yeah, Ji Soo – feels like that whole month-long shebang happened eons ago.” You almost curse out loud when you see rows on rows of all kinds of spices littering the bottom shelves, and the one spice you need up on the damn top shelf once again. Starting next week, you will wear heels to the grocery store. Or stilts – whatever it takes.

“Yeah,” Jungkook chuckles to himself, “I still can’t believe she liked me so much that I just decided to go with it. Young dumb Jungkook definitely learned early on that that’s not how relationships work.”

“Cocky bastard.” You scoff, shaking your head. But he just shrugs, as if to say “it is what it is.”

“So how come you haven’t dated anyone since then?” You inquire, hoping Jungkook hasn’t noticed where the ground ginger is located because this time, you are hell bent on just snatching it up and calling it good already. You’ve had enough strange, foreign bodily reactions for the day.

“I…I don’t know.” Jungkook admits as you sneakily side step towards the shelf, standing up on your tiptoes while he’s busy staring off into the distance. His expression is reflective, and almost a little solemn as well. He really seems to be contemplating and taking this whole conversation quite seriously, even though it wasn’t intended to be that way. Maybe he still misses Ji Soo or something, the poor boy.

“I guess… I’ve just been waiting for the right person to come along.” Jungkook finally states after another few moments of silence, which you unceremoniously break after landing on your feet too loudly in a sad attempt to quietly jump and grab the bottle of ginger, which obviously didn’t happen quietly or at all, period.

A long list of all the expletives you know in multiple languages runs through your mind as you feel the warm plane of Jungkook’s chest press against your shoulder blades again. This time his fingers brush against yours along the way, and it almost feels like he lingers there for a second, but it’s probably just your imagination because before you know it, he’s already backing away and tossing the ground ginger into the cart, just like before. You really must be on something today – your raging hormones and galloping heart need to get their shit together and calm down already.

“I-I’m sure you’ll find her soon, one day.” You manage to stutter out, an awkward smile on your lips, “Someone who will accept you, even though you have the taste buds of a five-year-old.” You joke in hopes of lightening the mood that has somehow changed drastically in the last few minutes. Whether it’s because of how pensive Jungkook’s suddenly become or because of your inability to control your bodily functions at the moment, the air definitely feels different compared to five minutes ago, and it’s not very comfortable – at all. Fortunately, the joke seems to do the trick because a smile slowly spreads across Jungkook’s face, and all the seriousness and weird angst seems to vanish almost immediately.  

“Least I don’t still dip my oreos in my milk when I eat them. Heck, I don’t even eat oreos anymore.” Jungkook scoffs teasingly, eyeing the blue package of cookies in the cart, “Seriously what are you, a child?”

“See? You’ve got such shit taste buds, Jeon.” You shake your head pitifully at him. “Just watch, you’re gonna end up dating a huge foodie or a professional food blogger who will properly roast you for having such awful taste, and I’d pay just to watch it all go down.” The imagery itself makes you laugh, and you take advantage of the newly livened mood to snag the cart from Jungkook and head towards the cash registers. “Let me know if you’re ever interested and I’ll help you hunt one down, yeah?”

You pause to flash a cheeky grin towards Jungkook, and the way he chuckles in disbelief is satisfying enough of a reaction for you to turn back around and make your way towards the self-check out area. But you miss the way Jungkook’s laughter quickly dwindles, transitioning into a soft sigh as he watches your figure walk farther and farther away.

“Yeah, I’ll definitely let you know, someday.”

- - - - - 

“Welp, that’s number six in the books. Check. Done-zo. Fin. Es todo. Hip hop’s dead, y’all – it’s dead!”

“Uh, I take it the date went well?” Jungkook peeks his head out from the kitchen, a spoon hanging from his mouth and a jar of peanut butter in his hand (the super smooth, liquidy kind, like the weirdo he is. Who eats anything but chunky?) as you trudge your way inside his shared apartment with Yoongi and Namjoon, your old college friends who are also part of the same producer team as Jungkook, and throw yourself onto the sofa face first. You grumble something inaudibly into the cushion, but Jungkook doesn’t need to ask to know you’re probably saying some not so positive words under your breath. He holds his snack to his chest and walks over to lift your feet up, placing them on his lap and making himself comfortable.

“So, what went wrong this time?”

“He wath jmmf brrrurng.”

“Sorry, I don’t speak cave man.”

You lift your head up from the sofa and crane your neck back to glare at Jungkook, long messy curls covering half of your face and killing your intimidating factor. “I said, he was just boring.”

Jungkook makes a noise of understanding, unscrewing the lid and digging his spoon into the jar. He brings the rich cream to his mouth, smacking his lips with an obnoxious pop. “I mean, at least he wasn’t a creepy 58-year-old who lied about everything in his dating profile. Compared to that, ‘boring’ doesn’t sound half as bad.”

Giving up, you re-smush your face back into the couch cushion, mumbling some more incoherent words and phrases your parents would be shocked to hear you say.

It’s been about a month since you embarked on this journey of exploring the world of dating apps. Hari said so herself that she personally knew of four happy couples that met through dating apps and insisted that it’d be a breeze for you to find someone. So maybe it’s just you, maybe you have rotten luck, or maybe you’re just not a dating app kind of person, because Date #1 could not stop talking about himself – the only question he asked was if you were going to finish the rest of your dinner or not. Date #2 ended up being a sugar daddy type of deal, and although the figures were tempting, it just wasn’t what you were looking for. You nearly filed a restraining order against Date #3 for being way too inappropriately touchy and creepy throughout the entire date. You even had to text Jungkook to come rescue you from that whole mess and he nearly knocked that creep’s lights out for being such a sleaze bag. Date #4 was the 58-year-old who lied about his dating profile and said he was 28 when in reality, he had a daughter your age. YOUR. AGE. Date #5 was such a turn off with how rudely he treated the waiters and pretty much all the other restaurant staff – an automatic swipe left. And now Date #6.

You roll over onto your back, curls fanning out around your head. You probably look like Medusa’s ugly sister right now. “He just didn’t... talk. He was the total opposite of Date #1 who couldn’t shut up long enough to let me excuse myself to the restroom. This guy barely said anything and honestly, I don’t know what’s worse.” You mutter a quick apology to Jungkook who squeaks after you accidentally dig your heel into his thigh while ranting, hitting a spot that’s a wee bit too close to a very sensitive area for him. “I kept asking questions to try to get to know the guy, only to get one-word answers from him every time.” You indignantly point at the clock on the wall. “That’s why I’m back so early, it took like forty-five minutes tops for me to run out of patience and questions to ask.”

“Mmm, sucks.” Jungkook mumbles half-heartedly, seemingly more interested in licking the spoon completely clean. “So you basically ate tacos and talked to a wall for forty-five minutes.”

“Exactly! And the tacos weren’t even that good!” You sit up, waving around exaggerated gestures before falling back onto the couch, draping an arm over your face. “You know what, that’s it. It’s obvious these are all signs that I’m supposed to be a nun. This must be my fate, my inevitable future, and I see now that I can no longer avoid the path that has been so clearly paved for me.”

“My god woman, you are dramatic. Has anyone ever told you that?” Jungkook pokes you in the stomach with the heel of his spoon, and you to flinch from the ticklish sensation.

You peek out from under your arm, “Should’ve gone into acting, huh? Seriously, damn all my life choices, damn them all!”

Jungkook chuckles, clearly amused by your theatrics. “Maybe you should take a break from the dating apps, give the potential dating pool some time to refresh and replenish a bit or something. Or, you could actually take my advice for once and stop putting so much pressure on yourself to find a boyfriend and just roll with the punches as they come.” The look he gives you is jokingly stern, though there’s some seriousness in his tone, and it makes you sigh. Maybe Jungkook’s actually onto something, as proven by your current not-so-hot track record. The past month has been more draining than fun, and so far it’s all been for nothing. Maybe you just need to give it all a break, and give yourself a break, really. Or seriously start considering entering the convent – either one, really.

As you continue to contemplate your life choices, you watch as Jungkook brings another spoonful of PB to his lips, only to dribble a straight line of it down his precious white t-shirt. He mutters an expletive under his breath and sets the jar and spoon down on the coffee table, rubbing away at the stain with his fingers. His efforts prove to be futile when the ugly brown smudge remains and without warning, he stands up and pulls the shirt off over his head, revealing the perfectly chiseled muscles of his back and shoulders. You involuntarily gulp at the sight of his sunkissed skin and the way his muscles ripple as he moves to throw the shirt into the laundry bin.

“Yeah, maybe...you’re right…” Your breath comes out in a quiet whoosh.

It’s not like you haven’t seen Jungkook shirtless before. There was that one time you went hot tubbing on the ski trip you and your friends took in college, or the few times you had to barge into his dorm room and drag his half-naked ass out of bed so he wouldn’t be late to lecture. But Jungkook’s always been a lot more conservative than not, and he didn’t exactly have the greatest confidence back then either. He used to be absolutely mortified in those moments and would hurriedly grab at anything nearby to cover up his body. Even though so many people agreed he was one of the most handsome and sought after guys on campus, he was still so self-conscious of himself. But as he went through college, he started to become interested in exercising and eventually made the commitment to hit the gym to change not only his body, but his confidence and perception of himself as well. The Jungkook now, with his sculpted physique, lean muscles, and much larger, more dominating stature, is totally different from the skinny, insecure boy you knew back in college. With the way he built himself up over the last few years physically, mentally, and emotionally, he just oozes confidence with now, which is great, but also not so great – for you, at least.

You chastise yourself every single time, but you can’t help but ogle openly during these rare moments his sweet glory is revealed to you. It’s so wrong to look at your best friend like this, you know it is – he’s just very comfortable around you and knows it’s no big deal to walk around like the half-naked god he is because it’s just you. But it’s kind of impossible to not gawk, not when his body is practically screaming to be worshipped (and is 100% worthy of it). It’s times like these that you’re reminded he is not just the jokester and bunny boy you call your best friend – he’s a fully grown man, and just so happens to be a very physically attractive one. And with the way the sight of his mouth-watering build makes your lower stomach feel, you realize once again that you’re a grown ass woman as well – a woman who has needs.

“Hey, eyes up here, perv.” He says with his back still turned to you as he grabs a hoodie hanging on one of the kitchen chairs. “And you might wanna wipe off the drool while you’re at it.” That snaps you out of your reverie as you quickly avert your eyes and sit up clumsily on the couch, making sure to scoff loud enough for him to hear.

“For your information, the world doesn’t revolve around you and your penchant for indecency, you cocky bastard. And jokes on you, there isn’t anything worth looking at, son!” Out of the corner of your eye you see him pull on the hoodie and turn back towards you, a knowing smirk tugging on his lips.

“That’s pretty much what you say every time I catch you staring. But hey, I don’t mind having an audience.” He squeezes himself next to you, draping an arm over the back of the couch and his eyes are twinkling. “But you should either fess up that you think I’m hot or come up with some new excuses, ‘cause yours are starting to get real old, babe.”

You wrinkle your nose, ignoring the way the pet name weirdly makes your heart stutter for a second. “Don’t call me babe, you baby.”

“Baby?” He leans in, his nose just a couple of dangerous inches away from yours. “I’m only like eight months younger than you, babe.”

“Whatever, you’re still a baby to me.” You grunt, folding your arms in an attempt to maintain the very little space left between your bodies. His gaze is dark and challenging, and it alone makes the heat pooling in your lower abdomen grow. “Don’t make me bring out pictures from college, Jeon. Sit down, be humble.”

“But I’m already sitting, babe.” Jungkook remarks, his tone sarcastic.

“You know, I bet Soobin wouldn’t be happy to hear her boyfriend calls other women a name that should be reserved solely for her.” You click your tongue in disapproval, secretly relieved with being able to change the subject as you quickly brush away the lustful thoughts in your head. “How are you guys even doing, by the way? Will I ever get to meet this mystery woman? Like, she’s really not just some imaginary girlfriend you made up?”

Something flashes across Jungkook’s eyes, but it’s gone before you can determine what is, and you forget all about it when he makes a face and pushes your forehead back with his index finger, “No, I’m not you, Miss ‘I’m Park SeoJoon’s wife.’ And it’s only been like less than a month, okay, chill. I just want to make sure she fully prepared to meet the freak-shows I call my friends.”

Jungkook must’ve been inspired by your new mission to find a boyfriend or something because once you started going on dates, the man apparently decided to make his own dating profile as well, surprising pretty much everyone by his sudden jump into the game. No one even knew he was interested, and he didn’t tell anyone, not even you, that he was on the apps. But that’s how he found Soobin, this mystery girl he’s apparently been seeing for the past few weeks. She’s actually a total mystery though because he hasn’t said a peep about her and how it’s been going. He’s oddly secretive about it all, which is strange because normally he tells you everything. But not this time, even though you pry and pry and pry. For some reason he just won’t budge.

“Jeon, if she can’t handle us right now, she won’t be able to handle us period, so you might as well introduce her already.” You shrug nonchalantly. “We gotta deem her worthy or weed her out.” As his best friend, you feel the need to meet this girl and see what she’s like for yourself to make sure she’s good enough for Jungkook. It’s not your fault that you want to meet her so bad – you’re just looking out for your best friend’s well-being.  

There’s a brief moment of silence as you catch Jungkook chewing on his lower lip – a habit of his when he’s feeling nervous or unsure about something – and you immediately begin to feel concerned. Maybe you pushed too much. Seeing him like that makes you feel a little guilty for prying so much without even considering that maybe something is up.

“Hang on, is something the matter?” Worry laces your voice, a hand coming to rest on his knee, “Is there a reason why you’re not saying anything?” You search his eyes for answers, but he just shakes his head vigorously, lips tightly pursed together. “Then why won’t you tell me?”

“Yeah seriously, none of us even know what this chick looks like. Why’re you keeping her such a secret from all of us?”

You hang your head backwards over the back of the couch and see Namjoon padding into the living, carrying what you assume to be an empty coffee mug in his hand. Namjoon’s always been someone Jungkook has greatly admired. He was the one who really encouraged the younger to pursue music and follow his dreams, rather than go into business like his parents wanted him to. If there’s anyone he’ll listen to, it’s Namjoon, though you continuously pray Jungkook won’t ever adopt the older man’s horrible sleeping habits. The dark shadows under his eyes and hoarseness of his voice indicate just how tired and in need of caffeine he is from most likely another all-nighter in the studio. But then again, the big producer man always looks like he runs on nothing but caffeine and no sleep. What a life.

Still hanging upside down, you give him a small wave and a “hi-yo” to which he copies your greeting adorably, his droopy eyes lighting up slightly.

“Hyung, not you too.” Jungkook whines defeatedly, running a hand down his face, “Look, she’s no secret, okay. I just, I don’t know, I just—”

“—don’t want to scare her off, yeah I get it.” Namjoon calls over his shoulder as he scuffs his slipper-clad heels towards the coffee machine in the kitchen. “It’s a new relationship, you’re still testing the waters, and we can be a lot to handle, so I get it. And by we, I really mean ___.”

“Hey!” You protest as Namjoon starts the machine before he comes out of the kitchen and strolls towards you, affectionately ruffling your already mussed hair.

“I say that with all the love in my heart, you Tasmanian devil.”

You scowl at him. “I hope your coffee is just as bitter as I am right now.”

“Anyways,” He turns to Jungkook, ignoring your griping. “Yoongi and I just got word that Slow Rabbit’s throwing some sort of PR event this weekend. He told us to invite the whole gang and any other friends, help boost our publicity a little.” Namjoon gives the younger man a pointed look. “Basically, it’s the perfect opportunity to introduce bae, if you want to, that is.”

“Oh, this is perfect!” You jump up and clasp your hands together excitedly. “We’ll finally expose Jeon for making up some fake ass imaginary girlfriend, and maybe I’ll finally be able to mingle with some normal guys for once.” You pause, turning to Namjoon, “Your producer friends are decent guys, right?”

Namjoon gives you a wary look and a half-hearted shrug, “Uhh, sure, I guess?”

“Awesome!” You chirp, “I trust you Joonie, it’s always been you and only y-” You let out a yelp when a pair of arms grabs your waist and spins you around so that you’re falling face first onto the sofa. The hands holding you hostage begin to mercilessly poke into your sides, forcing what sounds like a combination of choked laughter and cries for help out of you.

“Fake ass imaginary girlfriend, huh?” Jungkook growls, digging his fingers deeper into your love-handles, and you immediately howl in surrender. “I’m gonna make you throw up your tacos, you wench.”

From the sideline, Namjoon just sighs at the noisy commotion playing out in front of him, shaking his head as he watches Jungkook flip you onto your back and dive for your stomach, lips curling upwards mischievously. The wide grin on your face and ringing laughter in between yelps for mercy prevent Namjoon from feeling like he actually needs to intervene and save you. He does, however, feel disappointed (but not surprised) that you both can’t even see what’s happening here. He decides to just leave you two to duke it out, quietly sighing and shuffling into the kitchen to grab his coffee.

Maybe one day.

- - - - -   

It’s the following Friday night and guess where you are?

Not at home in your pajamas watching Black Panther while eating Thai take-out that Jungkook brought, that’s for sure. The thought alone makes you so incredibly sad. Because instead, in cruel reality, you’re sitting at a table inside a very dimly lit club called the Sound Bar, which is surprisingly clean and roomy, waiting for this PR event to start already. You know this is how all the hip young adults live out their lives in the movies, but now you’re seriously beginning to regret all that complaining about wanting to go out.

A few people have arrived, and you recognize them as some of Yoongi’s friends that you don’t know too well yourself. They linger around the bar in a huddled group, sipping on beers and chatting away with the man himself, who also looks like he doesn’t particularly want to be here either. That’s because you and Yoongi know what’s up – comfort is king and living under a rock is the only way to go. The thought pulls a sigh from your lungs as you turn to scan the venue. Besides them, it looks like you and your closer group of friends make up majority of the crowd currently, but people are really starting to file in now, steadily filling up the spacious area with body heat, boisterous conversation, and a lot of different smells. It makes your nose twitch.

Strangely enough, you don’t see Jungkook and Soobin yet, and you keep craning your neck to watch the door like a hawk for their entrance. While you were getting ready with Hari hours prior, you made Jungkook double pinky swear to not bail and to actually bring Soobin so you could meet her and confirm that she’s real. (“If you don’t come, I’m actually going to spread the rumor that you have an imaginary girlfriend.” “You’re the actual spawn of Satan, I swear.”) You know he’ll come regardless – he wouldn’t just leave you hanging like this. It’s finally time to figure out why he’s keeping this girl on the hush hush, and what exactly is going on with him.

“Whoa.” A baritone voice brings you out of your thoughts. Swiveling around, you see Taehyung gaping openly at you, a hand covering his mouth. “Seriously, like whoaaa.”

You scrunch your nose. “Tae, don’t even start – you’re literally so embarrassing.”

“Hey, if Hari is your number one hype woman, then I’m your number one hype man, okay, just let me be!” He stretches his arms out towards you as if he’s showing off an award, holding up jazz hands and everything. “Just look at you, queen! My baby Hari did such a great job, you look like a total hoochie mama!”

Your cheeks burn a scarlet red. “Oh good, because it was totally my goal to look like a hoochie mama. Thanks Tae.” Now you also regret letting Hari squeeze you into this skimpy black two-piece set. It was a bad idea from the start, but Taehyung’s reaction just confirms it. The short noodle strap crop top tightly hugs your bust and shows off more of your midriff than you would ever prefer. You keep wanting to cover it up with your arms out of reflex. But luckily the shorts are comfortable, though a bit short for your liking. Your hair flows down in beachy waves and a deep burgundy tints your lips, and the silver dollar-coin sized hoops hanging off your ear lobes are over the top in your opinion, but Hari threatened you to wear them out, insisting the outfit wouldn’t be complete without them. If anything, it’s Hari’s fault you apparently look like a hoochie mama.

“No problem!” Taehyung grins, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. He catches whiff of your unhappy demeanor and nudges you playfully, his expression softening. “Aw, c’mon ­­­__, lighten up a little! You look hot, seriously.” He pulls away to examine the state you’re in. “Do you need a drink? Actually yeah, you definitely do. I’m going to get you one.” Taehyung spins around on the stool to head to the bar, only for a hand to clamp down on his shoulder, stopping him mid-spin. Your eyes drift to the side and you’re surprised to see Jungkook giving his friend a silent but very clear warning, tilting his head intimidatingly. “No, I’ll go get ­it. God knows how many types of alcohol you’ll ask Hoseok hyung to mix into her drink. Then you’ll be responsible for dealing with the mess afterwards.”

Glaring at Taehyung’s sheepish smile, Jungkook’s slate eyes land on you and immediately widen, his jaw going slack when he sees the little (emphasis on little) black number you’re wearing. It’s probably because he’s so used to you wearing only leggings and oversized shirts and hoodies all the time that seeing you like this is a shock. That’s certainly how you felt looking at your reflection in the mirror at home. But you can’t help but shift uncomfortably in your seat, suddenly feeling the need to cross a leg over the other and place your purse strategically over your midriff from his gaze alone. Seconds, minutes, hours could be passing by but his glare doesn’t falter one bit. It’s almost seems like he’s angry or something but it’s also not quite that – you can’t seem to put your finger on it. Fortunately, the lights are dimmed low, and you just hope it’s dark enough to hide the blush that’s suddenly crawling up your neck from the way Jungkook keeps staring. At this rate he’s going to end up burning a hole straight through you.

“Doesn’t she look smoking?” Taehyung whistles low, giving his friend a nudge to the ribs. He barely moves and just continues keep his eyes glued on you.

“Hari did this?” Jungkook ignores him, finally speaking up after a few tense moments. His voice sounds much deeper than normal.

“Yeah,” You squeak awkwardly, looking away from his heavy gaze. What’s his deal? “So uh, where’s Soobin?” You try to change the subject, clearing your throat slightly and pretending to look around for this girl you don’t even know. You think it works, but then Jungkook catches you off guard by suddenly shrugging off his jean jacket and reaching around to drape it over your shoulders, the denim fabric engulfing your figure. It automatically feels a lot stuffier and ten degrees warmer, but you’re not sure if it’s because of the jacket or because of Jungkook’s unrelenting glower. You suddenly feel jittery.

“Dude, I could use this later when I’m drunk and cold and waiting for an Uber, not when it’s like a bajillion degrees inside.” You joke as you jump down from the stool and move to take the jacket off, only for his hands to keep it firmly in place on your shoulders. You look up at the man towering over you and have to consciously keep yourself from physically cowering away. Jungkook looks pissed. But for what reason, you have no clue. He just looks annoyed beyond reason, and not like when you normally mess with him and call him a fatty or something. It’s different, and it’s intimidating enough to make you swallow your pride and obey his next words.

“Keep it on.”

He lingers for a moment longer before dropping his arms and stalking off, disappearing among the crowd that has grown significantly in the last ten minutes, probably to go find Soobin. What’s disturbing is how your chest rises and falls rapidly, your heart hammering against your rib cage like a trapped bird that wants to be let out. You have no idea what the hell just happened here. It’s not like Jungkook to ever despise your outfits, let alone even care about what you wear in general. Maybe he fought with Soobin on the way here and is in a bad mood? Or worse, maybe you did something to upset him without realizing it. You shake your head as if to brush aside all the conflicting thoughts, and pinch the bridge of your nose. Yeah, you do need a drink, pronto.

At the bar you order a vodka-cran and send a weak smile to the bartender Hoseok, who’s a friend of Namjoon’s and an acquaintance of yours, requesting for him to make the drink a bit stronger than normal. He smiles back and doesn’t question your request, immediately whisking away to make your order. You would hug the man if you could, God knows how much you need a nice strong drink right now.

“___!” You hear Hari giggle and she plops down on the stool next to yours, looking very giddy and flushed in the face – a tell-tale sign that she’s had a few drinks already. At least someone’s having a good time. “Where’d you get the jacket? I kind of like the addition, it’s a bit grungy but in like a sexy, hipster way, you know?”

Remembering what happened with Jungkook, the jacket suddenly feels twenty pounds heavier as you shift it around awkwardly on your shoulders. “Uhh yeah, Jungkook gave it to me ‘cause, uh, I was cold.” Yeah, that’s why he acted the way he did. He was just angry because you might be cold…because that totally makes sense. You sigh inwardly.

“I don’t know about cold, it feels like a hundred degrees in here.” A voice chimes in, making you and Hari turn your heads simultaneously to the right. Dressed casually in a white button-down shirt that’s rolled up loosely at the elbows, a man sits on the bar stool to your right, sporting short jet-black hair, thick but neatly groomed eyebrows, a small, polite smile, and these beautiful obsidian eyes that are currently locked in on yours. Even though he’s sitting, you can tell he’s literally the definition of tall, dark and handsome, enough so to make you wonder why the hell he’s talking to you.

“Oh yeah, it’s like a god-awful sauna in here. In fact, let me go tell Joon, maybe he can get someone to crank up the AC or something.” Hari hurriedly blurts out, jumping from her stool with a knowing twinkle in her eye. She gives your arm a quick squeeze, a silent “good luck!” before taking off, making sure to look back at you every other step of the way. Very subtle.

Just before an awkward silence can ensue, Hoseok comes by to deliver your drink, which you immediately grab and begin to chug hastily, all the while silently praying this guy won’t end up being dud #7. Even if he does, you’re still going to need all the alcohol you can get to survive the rest of the night, what with Jungkook acting all weird, not having even met Soobin yet, or not having mingled with other people yet. The glass still at your lips, the thought causes you to wave your hand in a haphazard signal to Hoseok for another vodka-cran.

“Bit thirsty, aren’t we now?” Damn. Tipping back the last bits, you set the glass down and take in a deep breath, alcohol steadily dissolving in your blood as you ready yourself for whatever is to come. “Ha-ha, yeah,” You croak awkwardly, fidgeting with the glass, “just needed to cool down, ‘cause you know, it’s so hot.”

“Didn’t you just say you were cold?”

You glance down at the light acid wash jacket and momentarily shut your eyes in regret. If it was humanly possibly, you’d kick yourself in the shin for sounding so stupid right off the bat.

“This,” You open your eyes after re-composing yourself and put on a one-hundred-watt smile, “is merely a fashion statement. I was going for the grungy, sexy, hipster look, that’s all.”

“Ah, right, like your friend just said.”

You bite your lip. Okay, it’s official – you fucked up. You should just get up and walk away right now. Save some face and talk to someone else before this gets any more humiliating than it already is. You decide that this can’t go for much longer or else you’ll literally die and wither away from embarrassment. A goodbye is already on your lips and your legs itch to make a run for it when the guy suddenly starts to laugh, his shoulders shaking, while wearing a grin that undoubtedly looks really good on him.

“Wow, alright then.” Looking positively amused, he stretches a hand out to you. “Hi, I’m YoungHo.”

“And you think I’m totally bizarre.” You mumble back, wanting nothing more than to crawl under a rock and die. But YoungHo shakes his head, letting go of his drink to wave his hands at you as well.

“No I don’t, really.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, causing him to cock his head to the side, a lopsided smile on his face.

“I just think you’re kinda… quirky?”

“Oh God, you might as well tell me to go join the Ripley’s Believe It or Not crew.” You groan, propping your elbows on the bar and burying your face into your hands. He’s just being nice and trying to make light conversation and here you are looking like a total buffoon with half a brain cell left. There’s just no way he doesn’t think you’re at least a little insane. Your cheeks feel like burning pieces of coal, the heat effectively setting the rest of your face ablaze along with them.

He laughs again, the sound so deep and rich and honestly quite pleasant to listen to. But sensing your mortification, he quickly begins to cough, clearing his throat to rid of the laughter.

“You know,” He continues, seemingly more composed now, but a smile still twinkles in his eyes, “I used to not be able to understand why people would go see shows like that. They just didn’t seem all that appealing to me. But then I watched The Greatest Showman and man, it totally changed my views. Now I’m dying to go see a show.”

Your ears perk up after hearing the name of one of your favorite movies and you lift your head from your hands, the embarrassment slowly starting to fade away. “Isn’t that movie just amazing? And I totally get what you mean, I wasn’t a huge fan of stuff like that before but now I’m just waiting for something like Ripley’s to come to town so I can snag tickets and reminisce.”

He hums in agreement, “It also hands down has the best soundtrack out there. I think it’s definitely up there with the Lion King and Hamilton.”

You rest your chin on the palm of your hand, your muscles starting to relax a little bit now. “Hamilton tickets are seriously impossible to get. You’ll never guess how many email accounts I made just to try and win lottery tickets.”

“How many?”

“Eleven.”

“Get out of here.”

“No, seriously!”

Before you know it, more drinks are being poured and the conversation is taking off with its new set of wings, all embarrassment now left in the dust of the past. You two continue to chat about movies, which leads to talking about hobbies, favorite places in the city, the best pizza parlor in town (it might just be the alcohol or you’re just really that passionate about your pizza opinions because you two even end up getting into a very heated debate about thin crust versus deep dish). You’re honestly surprised by how natural it feels. Time flies through bouts of laughter and light conversation, and it all ends up being so much easier than you originally thought it’d be. And, this guy has yet to prove himself to be a dud yet. He’s actually very nice – attentive, funny, finds you funny. No joke, the man seems to really enjoy laughing at you. But he assures you that he’s not laughing at you – he’s just laughing at your antics, the peculiar things you say, the never-ending sass tank you’ve got fully loaded and on hand at all times.

At one point when you slam your fist down and insist that deep dish pizza is the only way to go, he tells you to prove it, smoothly asking you out on a pizza date so you two can compare thin crust and deep dish. You almost can’t believe it when he hands your phone back to you, “YoungHo :)” and a phone number illuminating on the bright screen. Things actually seem to be working out for once – you might’ve actually found a normal match!

Two hours of drinks and conversation breezes by before YoungHo tells you he needs to run to the restroom. “Watch my drink?” He smiles, a hand gently resting on the small of your upper back. You nod more furiously than you anticipated, but he doesn’t seem to notice and thanks you, turning to squeeze his way through the crowd.

It feels great to know that things seem to finally be looking up, you would cry if it wasn’t for the fear of ruining Hari’s wonderfully done make up. You do figuratively pat yourself on the back, though. You really did your drunk, 26-year-old self some good by putting yourself out there like this.

YoungHo seems like a decent guy, really. But in the short time you spent getting to know him, you still made sure Hoseok just kept the drinks coming, because no matter how nice of a conversation it was, you were still a little nervous the entire time. With your luck and current track record, things could go wrong at any time, so you needed the help of your good friend alcohol to get you to loosen you up a bit. But it’s only now that you’ve let your guard down a little that the effects of the drinks seem to really be kicking in full force. Only now is the room is starting to spin, your head feeling a lot fuller and fuzzier than before. You swirl Youngho’s whisky glass absentmindedly, sleepily observing the ice spin round and round at the bottom, the motion soothing, almost hypnotizing. If you keep doing this you might actually be able to put yourself to slee-

“You hanging in there alright?”

You startle from your drowsy haze, eyes uncoordinatedly searching for a bit before finally landing on a familiar figure to your right. It’s not YoungHo – this time, it’s a much more familiar person.

“Jeon-bun!” You excitedly coo, cupping your chin with your hands and leaning forward on your elbows to get closer to your best friend, who plops down on the seat next to you. You blink lethargically several times, a dopey grin hanging on your lips. “Why isn’t it my favorite boy, my baby, my love child, my little tulip.”

Jungkook whips his head toward you, the once stoic look on his face now morphed into one of bewilderment. “Tulip? Love child? What the actual- how many drinks have you had?”

“Psh,” You wave a hand carelessly at him, “Like, Monday.”

“Shit, this is bad.” Jungkook groans, carding a hand through his hair. “Monday’s not a number, stupid.”

“Oh, I meant seven, seeeevvveeeen, hehehehehe.”

You’d argue you can handle your alcohol pretty well, with six or seven drinks being your limit. But then again, it’s not like you remember much after having that many drinks, so you can’t really say for sure. According to Jungkook who’s witnessed and endured majority of your drunk episodes with you, that is definitely not the case, but what does he know?

You watch as he squeezes his eyes shut, as if pained about something, and the sight makes you frown. You don’t like seeing your Jungkookie sad, mad, upset or frustrated about anything. Not on your watch.

“HEY!” You shout, startling some people nearby as you press your index fingers onto the corners of his lips, pushing them up until they form a constipated looking smile. “No frowning allowed, nuh uh. My love child is not allowed to be sad. You’re ugly when you’re sad.”

“Oh gee thanks, real confidence booster.”

You let go and pinch his cheeks before letting your arms drop, swaying your head as you hum along to the music that’s playing. You recognize it to be one of Namjoon’s original songs from one of his mixtapes, and it also happens to be one of your favorites, the tune upbeat and catchy. It just serves to lift your drunk spirits even higher. 

“YoungHo’s great, did I tell you that?” You suddenly announce. Eyes closed, you continue to hum as you wait for Jungkook to respond. It feels like it takes longer than usual for him to respond to you, but that could just be you and your impaired sense of time. But he eventually answers, his voice low and even.

“The guy you’ve been talking to all night, his name’s YoungHo, huh.” 

You bob your head up and down, “Yeah, he likes pizza. And I think he likes me. Actually I don’t know yet, we’re gonna go get pizza next week so I’ll find out then.” You giggle, turning from side to side on the bar stool. Sighing happily, you suddenly swivel around to face Jungkook, knees bumping up against his. He flinches at the sudden contact.

“Jungkook-ah.”

“What.”

“I’m so happy.” You sigh again, staring off into space with a dreamy look on your face, not noticing the way Jungkook tenses up, gripping the beer bottle in his hand.

“That so? How come?” He says calmly, though his body reacts in the complete opposite manner. He nervously taps his fingers along the glass of the bottle and bites down on his lower lip, worrying the flesh between his teeth. But you don’t pay attention to it, his actions cloaked by the drunken spell that’s been casted over you.

“Because,” You tilt your head to the side, giving him an even more wistful smile, “pizza exists, Fat Fridays are the best, I finally met a guy who isn’t 58 or a total creep, I have the most amazing friends, and an even more incredible best friend and I love you, Jungkook.” A hiccup mixed with a chuckle escapes you. “I love you, best friend. You know I wouldn’t be able to do life with you, right?”

On a regular night out, drunk you includes the following: increases in smiling frequency, steadily rising volume of laughter, increasing amounts of shouting and passionate declarations, ensuing of blabbering nonsense, and finally, sleepy sappiness to end the night. Basically alcohol brings out your normal personality and amplifies it a few thousand times. Normally, Jungkook’s used to experiencing all your drunk symptoms and isn’t even phased by all the cheesy sap or ridiculousness that tends to spew from your lips. But this time your words hit differently – they strike his bones from an angle he wasn’t prepared to take a blow from. It causes him to swallow past a lump in his throat, and he quickly takes a swig of his beer to help force it down.

“Thought you said you were tired of Fat Fridays, said they made you feel like a retired grandma.” He manages to get out, eyes flitting around nervously.

You place a hand to your chest in feigned offense, “Who, me? I would never say such a thing, Fat Fridays are a blessing from above.” Reaching over, you give Jungkook’s hand a friendly squeeze, his eyes focused on where your hand lies. “I’m just saying that things are perfect the way they are right now, okay. YoungHo and I are getting married, you and I will keep the Fat Friday tradition alive, and everything will be happy and wonderful for the rest of our lives.”

“Married?!” Jungkook nearly spits out the sip of beer he had just taken and chokes back on a cough. “I think you need to take like eighty-six steps back and stop jumping to conclusions for a second, ___.” He scoffs in disbelief, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “You barely even know the guy.”

“I know enough about him, trust me.” You drunkenly wave his judgment away. “Anyways, where’s Soobin? You did bring her, right? I want to meet her already, you asshole!”

Jungkook sighs and fights the urge to roll his eyes, even as you give his arm a spiteful pinch. “Calm down, she’s using the restroom. I’ll introduce her once she gets ba-”

“I’m here, babe.”

At the sound of the unfamiliar voice, your eyes shoot open. You immediately spin around and hop off the bar stool, steadying yourself on the seat cushion once your feet hit the ground because apparently alcohol has the power to turn your legs into jelly. You squint a little in an attempt to get your vision to focus. Through the drunken fog, you’re able to make out a set of cat-like eyes, pink thinly pursed lips, a cascade of perfect ringlets of caramel curls, and a tight blue body-con dress hugging a slim, petite figure. This must be her, this must be-

“Soobin!” You squeal elatedly, taking the girl’s hands into yours, proceeding to shake them up and down furiously. “It’s soooo nice to finally meet you.” You let go of one hand to jerk a thumb at Jungkook. “This asshat’s been keeping us in the dark for so long when it comes to you, so I’m so happy to finally be able to meet you!”

You look back and forth between Jungkook and Soobin like an overly excited puppy that needs to pee. But you can’t help it, you’re finally meeting the girl that Jungkook has deemed worthy of his affections, so of course it’s a huge moment for you, for all of you. Best friend meets girlfriend, girlfriend meets best friend. It does makes you feel a little weird though, seeing the person who is apparently his girlfriend stand by his side. Whatever this feeling is, it’s definitely…foreign. But you’re too caught up in the excitement to really care – you just hope it’s a moment you won’t forget because of your frenemy Mr. Vodka-Cran. Screw him.

“Um, hi, it’s nice to meet you too.” The girl says uneasily, leaning a bit closer to Jungkook. “You must be ___.”

Your jaw drops open unattractively as you jab a finger at your own chest. “You know who I am?!”

“Jungkook talks about you a lot.” Soobin states matter-of-factly, her demeanor cool and calm – almost too cool and calm. You feel the need to introduce her to Mr. Vodka-Cran.

“Aw, does he really now?” You affectionately pat Jungkook on the cheek, who rolls his eyes when you coo at him. “I’m his best friend – actually, the best friend he could ever ask for – so I’m not surprised. But still happy to hear it.” You focus your attention back on Soobin, your eyes sparkling. “So, tell me about yourself! How did you and Jungkook meet? Oh wait, silly me, I already know you met on Tinder, duh! What I meant to say is, how’s it going? Are you guys happy together?” You suddenly gasp, “Are you guys going to get married?! Oh my gosh, congratulations! I can’t wait to tell the others-”

The rest of your words come out as a muffled, unintelligible mess from behind Jungkook’s hand. He knows better than to let the “blabbing nonsense” stage get any worse. It takes you an extra long second to register what’s happening but when you finally do, you give him a repulsed look before licking his palm in revenge, causing him to draw his hand back reflexively.

“O-kay, I think that’s enough ‘getting to know each other’ time.” He cringes, wiping the spit off on his dark denim jeans. “Uh, so yeah, ___ this is Soobin, Soobin this is ___.” He turns to Soobin, looking apologetic, “Sorry you have to meet ___ when she’s butt-drunk like this. Normally she’s a little off her rocker but I swear she’s not this crazy all the time.”

“Ah, I see.”

“Well that’s kind of a bummer to hear.”

Cheeks flushed, you whirl around and are greeted by another one of YoungHo’s amused smiles and he leisurely strides over to where you guys are standing. It feels like he’s been gone for forever; you nearly forgot about him for a second there. You wonder if he was really in the bathroom for that long or if alcohol just slows time down that much.

“YoungHo,” You beam, raising a hand up in salutation, before directing it towards the couple beside you, “this is my best friend and pet bunny, Jungkook. And this,” you gesture towards Soobin, “is his girlfriend Soobin! Aren’t they just precious?”

YoungHo bites his lips to hold back a bout of laughter, obviously having not expected your level of inebriety to increase this much in the few minutes he was gone. But he lets his manners go ahead of him, extending a hand out to Jungkook. “Pleasure’s mine, I’m YoungHo, a… new friend of ___’s.”

Jungkook stares at the man’s hand like it’s his first time seeing a hand and he doesn’t quite know what to do with it. He stills, the booming music and surrounding chattering conversations blurring together messily in the background. You may be far from sober, but even you can feel the palpable awkwardness, and you frantically wonder why he’s just letting this stretch of silence pass on by without saying anything. It’s so awkward, YoungHo’s expression starts to shift into an uncomfortable one, his outstretched hand wavering slightly. Your eyes quickly flicker to Soobin, who looks just as puzzled as you feel, and out of anxious discomfort you inwardly start to chant you shake it, you dimwit, shake it!

After a few more excruciating moments of tension, the man seems to finally figure out how to operate his own hand and takes YoungHo’s into his, the handshake looking really firm – almost painfully firm. But at least he finally shook his damn hand and put all of you out of your collective awkward misery.

From beneath slightly narrowed eyes, Jungkook makes silent eye contact with YoungHo before he mutters a greeting and briskly lets go, shoving his hand into his pocket. You remind yourself to give Jungkook a lesson on basic manners after this night is finally over with.

“Allllllrighty then!” You chirp, clapping your hands together to break up the strange atmosphere. “Friends, girlfriends, tulips – everyone’s been introduced. This calls for celebration! And more alcohol!” In your trek back towards the bar, you somehow manage to trip over your own foot, gravity pulling your body forward in a sudden jerk that has you falling towards the gleaming wood surface. But luckily a hand, no, two hands grab your arms and quickly hoist you up, your eyes rolling around dizzily in your head from all the movement. Blinking in a daze, you turn to your left and right and see Jungkook and YoungHo holding onto you, wearing similarly concerned expressions on their faces.

“Well thank god I have the two of you to save me from banging up my face, haha!” A hiccup leaves your lips, but soon turns into a giddy giggle, followed by more hiccups. At this point, you don’t have enough sober left in you to even think about feeling embarrassed. You just grin stupidly, happy as can be.  

“Okay, no more drinks for you. I think it’s time to go home.” Jungkook enforces sternly, pulling you away from the bar and consequently out of YoungHo’s grip as well. The event must really be taking off now because it’s much more difficult to hear his voice over the pulsating bass and rowdy cheering than before. In the distance you see a circle of people cheering on a group of break dancers who are spinning around on the floor and showing off their fancy, intricate dance moves. More and more people are squeezed onto the dance floor now, swaying their bodies to the music in one massive clump of body heat and sweat, the beat and blanket of intoxication fully taking control of the atmosphere. There’s just no way you’re can leave now, not when the party’s just getting started.

“No.” Jungkook says scoldingly, reading your mind before you can even think of protesting. “I already know what you’re thinking. Trust me, you’re gonna thank me tomorrow when you get a full night’s sleep and your hangover is ten times better than it would’ve been.”

“But Jeonnie,” You whine unapologetically, giving him an annoyed pout. “Just because you want to go home doesn’t mean I want to go home yet. Some of us just want to live our lives, you party pooper!” You swing your hand at his chest but completely miss, stumbling forward when you hit nothing but air. This time YoungHo is quicker to react and his hands are on your waist before you even realize you’re falling, his grip steadying you on your feet.

“Actually, I think that might be a good idea, ___.” YoungHo agrees gently, trying hard not to smile at your sulky frown that just grows larger and cuter by the second. “Might be a good time to call it a night, gotta keep you from breaking an arm or something. Come on, I’ll give you a ride home.” In your drunk stupor, you still get startled when Jungkook suddenly steps forward, wearing an expression you don’t think you’ve ever seen on him before.

“No it’s all good, I’ll take her home.” Though he stands tall, his words come out in a nervous rush. The nervousness in his voice sounds so unlike him, so uncharacteristic of him. He must realize how hasty he sounded because he’s suddenly scratching the back of his neck, eyes flitting around awkwardly. “I mean, I’ve taken care of her drunk self plenty of times in the past, so I’m used to it. She can just be a real beast to deal with once the alcohol fully hits.”

Your face twists in offense, “Uh, excuse you Mr. Jeon-balaya-”

“No really, it’s fine,” YoungHo cuts in, stepping forward as well to match Jungkook’s stance. “I don’t mind at all. I’m completely sobered up and my car’s parked right up front. Besides,” he eyes Soobin who’s been standing there all along, quiet as a mouse, before shifting back to Jungkook, “you should take care of your girlfriend, no?”

Maybe it’s just your eyes playing tricks on you, but you swear you see Jungkook’s hands ball up into fists at his side. He looks ticked, again, just like earlier when he first saw your outfit. But at the same time, your best friend, whom you can usually read like a book, faces the other man completely stone-faced, blank of any real emotion, and truthfully it comes across as a bit scary. This night just gets stranger and stranger by the minute. 

You think the unbearable awkward tension is back, but this time you can’t really tell for sure. They continue to stare at each other like there’s some sort of show down to be had, and it soon becomes too much for your inebriated brain to comprehend. All you know for sure is that just as Jungkook predicted, the alcohol is really starting to hit you now. You know you’re standing still but it feels like the world is tipping sideways on its axis just to throw you off balance. The strong bass hammers in your ear and shakes you from the inside out in a way that makes your stomach churn uneasily, like Mr. Vodka-Cran is about to take his revenge on you. For the first time that night, you agree with the both of them – maybe it is time to go home.

“Jungkook,” Soobin suddenly speaks up after not having said a single word in the last ten minutes, “just let the man take her home. You were planning on staying at my place tonight anyway, no?” You bring a hand to your head as if it’ll help alleviate the headache that’s starting to pound away at your skull. Why does Soobin sound upset too? Did you do something wrong? What the hell is going on? Where are your goddamn pajamas ‘cause you really need to pass the fuck out ASAP.

Sensing your growing discomfort, YoungHo reaches for your purse on the bar stool and slings it over your shoulder, looking down at you worriedly. “_­__­ really doesn’t look too good, I think we should head out. I’ll let her friend know we’re leaving, and I’ll be sure to get her home safe. It was nice meeting you both.” With a hand on the small of your back, he leads you away from a shell-shocked Jungkook and an equally upset-looking Soobin, moving forward through the hordes of people, not letting you turn back to look even once. You just hope all of this, whatever this was, will be cleared up by morning.  

- - - - -   

Things aren’t the same after that night at the Sound Bar.

Thankfully, you wake up the next day alone and in your own bed, the other half of it empty and fortunately unoccupied. You end up nursing a nasty hangover for the next two days after that night, your recovery weekend filled with lots of pedialyte, tylenol, and soup to keep your poor stomach at bay. It’s frustrating because no matter how hard you try to remember, that night is just one big drunken blur in your memory. Luckily Hari, who had been nearby at the time and witnessed it all go down, helps fill you in on everything that happened. You immediately spam Jungkook’s phone afterwards with apology texts, asking him to deliver your sincerest apologies to Soobin as well for being so rude and insane that night (you swear to never talk to Mr. Vodka-Cran ever again, that bastard). But strangely, there’s no reply. You vaguely remember him saying he was going to spend the night at Soobin’s place, so you figure he’s just busy spending his weekend with her. It’s no big deal, he’ll get back to you in a few days and things will soon be all settled and forgiven.

He eventually texts back to tell you it’s fine, but that he’s got a busy week ahead of him. The deadline for his demos are coming up, and apparently he’s super far behind and has a ton of shit to catch up on. You were hoping he’d be free so you’d be able to at least apologize to him one more time, in person. But you don’t get to see him, and Fat Friday doesn’t happen that week. Again, not the end of the world. He’s an adult, he’s got adult responsibilities to take care of, and it’s totally normal to not see your friend’s face for a week. Well, not normal for you, but you figure it’s normal in general.

The following week, Jungkook says he’s still swamped with work. You tell him you’ll go to his place to keep him some company in his misery, promising not to distract him too much and even offering to bring take-out, which happens maybe once in a blue moon. But he declines your offer (he says no to take-out!) and insists he really needs to be alone and concentrate. Though his rejection leaves a slight sting, his reasons are understandable – the producer life isn’t an easy one and knowing how much of a perfectionist Jungkook is, that life is probably just that much more difficult for him. It’s a very reasonable excuse.

Before you know it, two weeks go by, and it’s onto week three. His text replies are becoming sparse and each successive one sounds less and less like him. His apologies are half-hearted at best and he repeatedly blames it on the stress he was dealing with. But he says the demos are finally in, and that he’s free for the next few weeks before he starts up on another project. You ignore the fact that he’s been acting off, your desire to see your best friend trumping his unusual behavior, and text him to get his “fat ass ready for wings and some Thor action, cuz it’s Fat Friday baby!” hoping deep down inside that he won’t turn you down again this week. But to your utter shock, he does, this time with the excuse of needing to tend to his very neglected girlfriend. Another slap of rejection. But it makes sense that if he didn’t have any time for his own girlfriend, then he definitely didn’t have time for you. Of course he’d want to spend quality time with her to make up for the time he was gone. Of course.

So in those three rather empty weeks, you fill your time in other ways. The day after meeting at the Sound Bar, YoungHo texts you to set up your pizza date. Instead of lounging around at home like you normally do with some superhero movie on Netflix and Jungkook hogging up majority of the sofa with his body, you spend the evening going to two different pizza places with YoungHo. It ends up being a nice first date, one which concludes with you reluctantly admitting that thin crust is actually pretty bomb too (but you still pledge your loyalty to deep dish forever). The conversation still flows nicely with him as you both continue to get to know more about one another. Turns out, YoungHo’s a friend of a friend of Namjoon’s and works as some fancy business manager for some even fancier big-shot business company in the city. Strangely enough, this new tidbit of information makes you instantly think of Jungkook, who in his college days, once passionately declared he’d rather die than be stuck at a boring office job for the rest of his life. He sure is a man of his word, seeing how he kept to it and now is doing what he truly loves to do – producing and making music.

The second week, YoungHo surprises you by taking you to see Hamilton, the musical. Apparently, his company offers discount prices on certain events like musicals, and he managed to get seats in the orchestra pit for dirt cheap. He was worried it’d be too fancy and serious for the third date, but you’re just thrilled that you finally get to see the musical in real life, rather than just listening to the soundtrack on Spotify on repeat and creating an imaginary musical inside your head. The show ends up being even more amazing than you could ever describe with words. The songs, the dialogue, the characters – it’s a night that will be forever embedded in your memories. You know you just have to take Jungkook to see it the next time the Hamilton crew is back in town – you know he would love it just as much as you did.

The third week you offer to make YoungHo dinner at your apartment for date five, to change things up a little. He’s been so generous and proactive with planning all the previous dates, you feel like it’s the least you can do to show some effort on your part. So you invite him over and prepare a fancy steak and roasted vegetable dinner that you copped off a Tasty recipe. After dinner, you turn on the Hamilton soundtrack as YoungHo pours out two glasses of wine and continues the conversation about favorite childhood memories. He sits up properly on the sofa, one leg crossed over the other as he animatedly reminisces about the time he accidentally called the fire department thinking he was calling his mom. You smile and nod at his story and make sure to laugh at the right times, but for some reason, you can’t help but think about how he’s sitting. It’s an odd thought to have, but it bothers you throughout the night – it just looks too proper, too upright. If Jungkook were here, you think, he’d be sprawled out all over your couch, legs and arms hanging over the edges and you’d have to shove him off or prop his feet up on your lap just so you could sit. Then you’d make a comment about his feet smelling like a dead animal and he’d pounce on you and tickle you until you’re breathless and admitting surrender. But that’s if Jungkook were here. He hasn’t been here in weeks.

The days, hours, and minutes, crawl by at a snail pace until it’s finally week four since you’ve seen Jungkook. Now, there’s just – nothing. No legit or even half-assed excuses to explain for his prolonged absence. It seems like he’s even given up replying to your texts, seeing as though you were left on read three days ago.

You start to think that maybe this is just what it feels like to grow up. That adult friendships are just starkly different from younger ones, where you have all the care-free time in the world to hang out and talk and do nothing together. Maybe this is how adult friends end up becoming more distant from each other. Life starts to demand too much, significant others are put at the higher end of the priority list, and something has to suffer for the new change in the hierarchy. If that’s the case and that’s what this is, then you conclude that being an adult sucks, and you want no part of it anymore.

You don’t even realize you’re lost in your own thoughts until YoungHo says your name, snapping you out of it and back to reality. He was in the middle of explaining what was going on in the baseball game you two were watching at his place when you started to space out, traveling down the sad, dark rabbit hole you hate to admit you’ve kind of been living in for the past month. Now that your head is out of the clouds, you wince at the sight of the baseball game on the TV. Jungkook loves baseball. You wonder if he’s out there somewhere watching this game too.

The TV suddenly goes black. Youngho’s hand lowers the remote control onto the coffee table before he turns to you, one leg crossed over the only, polite and proper as usual. You can already tell by the look on his face that he has a question on his lips, ready to fire away.

“What’s been going on with you lately, ___?”

You blink a couple of times, not liking where this conversation is going. “What do you mean? Nothing’s up.” Even you don’t think your words sound convincing to your own ears.

YoungHo sighs. “These past few dates, I’ve caught you staring off into space multiple times, looking so sad and out of it.” He furrows his brows in concern. “Do you not even realize it yourself?”

You bite your lower lip. You know you’ve been feeling a bit gloomy and really out of it these last few weeks, you just didn’t realize you were blanking out that often – especially in front of YoungHo. And even if you were, you thought you were at least hiding it well. Guess not.

“Alright,” He shifts to sit closer to you, folding his hands in his lap, “Tell me what’s really going on.”

You almost laugh at that because frankly, you don’t know what’s going on yourself. Work’s been the same, you’ve been sleeping alright – not as soundly as normal but getting enough to function – and maybe your diet has been a little cleaner now that you haven’t had any greasy take-out food for the last month, but honestly that’s the biggest recent change you can think of – Jungkook’s absence. Just the thought of him makes your heart twinge. You miss Jungkook’s stupid face so much, the thought of him and his stupid voice and his stupid comments and his stupid presence have had you tossing and turning at night for the past few weeks. Every time your phone rings, every time you crave take-out or come home from work and just want to pass out on the sofa with a movie, you automatically think of him and wonder how he’s doing, if he’s doing okay, if he got enough sleep while pulling his hair out over deadlines – you wonder if he even remembers you exist anymore.

You shake your head, squeezing your eyes shut momentarily to block out the pain. “I- I really don’t know, honest.” You admit the half of the truth, because you really aren’ts sure what to make of these thoughts and feelings you have for your best friend yourself. But it’s like YoungHo can read your mind, or maybe, you’re just that easy to read.

“It’s Jungkook, isn’t it?”

Shocked, you look up at him, lips parted to match your expression. “W-what?”

“___, you can’t fool me.” YoungHo sighs again, looking obviously frustrated, but he somehow manages to maintain a level tone, and his eyes look gentle as ever. “Ever since our first date, you haven’t been able to stop talking about him. Jungkook this, Jungkook that – it was never ending. I know you two are best friends and all, but honestly I was shocked when all you would do is talk about your male best friend ninety-five percent of the time even while on a date with another man.” He pauses for a moment, his gaze softening. “Not to mention you just look so down nowadays, I figured it must have something to do with him.”

Your eyes are still saucer-wide as YoungHo searches them carefully, his expression sullen. The way he does it is scarily similar to how Jungkook does it. Maybe this whole time you were wrong and Jungkook was actually the one who could always read you like a book, and not the other way around. But like your best friend, YoungHo seems to find whatever answer he needs as he inhales, the sound a bit shaky, as if to compose himself for what he’s about to say next.

“You love him, don’t you?”

It’s more of a statement than it is a question. In fact, the way he says it makes it sound like it’s so obvious, like hey the sky is blue, dogs are cute, you love Jungkook. It rolls off the tip of his tongue like a cold, hard fact rather than just a mere hypothesis that needs further testing. It shakes you at your core and makes your head spin, and the confusion is simply overwhelming.

It is an obvious fact that you love Jungkook – he’s your best friend, the one who’s been by your side for so many years now and knows you better than anyone else, even more than Hari or your own parents. He knows what makes you tick, and then he knows what really makes you tick and goes the extra length to make sure no one ever gets to that point with you, including himself. He always knows just the words to say to comfort you, or just the joke to crack to lighten up the mood and make you smile. Without fail he’s like your giant Care Bear, just maybe less fuzzy wuzzy up front. He’s dealt with drunk you, post-break-up-crying-over-ice-cream-you, low self confidence you, lost in life you, all the parts of you that you didn’t even want to bother with – Jungkook embraced them all. He’s been the most stable constant in your life. Yet in the past, you never really considered him in a romantic way, mostly due to the awkward start you two had and how long it took to get over that hill. And even after you did, then you started dating your college boyfriend. There was no time to even think about looking at him in that way – so you never did.

But YoungHo’s words ring unmistakably loud and clear in your ears, and suddenly there’s so much pulling and pushing of your emotions happening all at once. It’s like the boulder of sorrow weighing on your heart lightens up only to hang down even heavier now after hearing his words, like a fog has lifted to unveil your true feelings while your heart still runs around in circles, frantically lost, so confused and caught off guard. His words are a real sucker punch to the gut that you didn’t see coming, one that leaves you breathless, because never did you imagine that this would be the issue you would have with Jungkook. Arguing over what to get for take-out? Of course. Bickering over who the better looking person is? All the time. Cussing one another out in Mario Kart? A regular occurrence. But falling in love with your best friend? Never in your dreams.

You clench your hands into fists on top of your thighs. It almost feels like you’re going to cry for some reason, maybe from just feeling overwhelmed by it all. But whether they’d be tears of joy or frustration, you have no clue. It just doesn’t make sense. You can’t just wake up one morning and suddenly love your best friend in a completely different way, it doesn’t work like that. But the more you think about it, the more you realize it didn’t happen overnight – none of this did. No, all those times he let you cry on his shoulder, whether it was because of your college boyfriend or because of a bad grade, all those moments he paused his video games just to talk with you about life, about nothing, til the wee hours of the morning, all those times he fought with you for the last crab rangoon like his life depended on it, only to give in and let you have it in the end – it’s in all these little moments that you didn’t realize you were slowly falling for the boy with the doe eyes, the smart mouth, and a heart of pure gold.

YoungHo is right – you are completely and undeniably in love with Jungkook.

These last four weeks have been hell, missing Jungkook so much more than you ever thought you would. The feeling is ten times worse than that one time junior year, when he went to a music camp for two weeks in the mountains with no phone service or wifi signal. You koala-ed him for nearly a week after he came back and demanded he never lose contact with you for that long ever again. This time is definitely much worse. This time, his absence had been constantly gnawing at you – a bitter, lonely, slow spreading infection eating away at your insides bit by bit, eventually leaving a gaping hole that wouldn’t be easy to patch up. It’s strange because the more time passed without his presence and the more you saw YoungHo’s face instead, the more often Jungkook’s would pop up in your head, as if to torture you even more in your misery. But now it all makes sense why that was happening.

Even in this very moment, you still miss those big, brown, doe eyes of his with all your heart, and the way his nose wrinkles adorably when he laughs or smiles, along with that brilliant smile itself– seriously, when was the last time you even saw the light? You miss the sight of his big hoodie clad figure splayed out on your couch and being able to banter with him and make him snort with the ridiculousness that spews from your mouth, you miss calling him names and immediately getting insulted back. You miss having his head or even his feet on your lap with Hulk playing in the background. You miss him so much, it hurts.

So much that you finally decide that enough is enough.  

“YoungHo,” You begin after who knows how long, your voice sounding more stable now. “I think I- I need to go.” Too busy filtering through the complicated web of thoughts and emotions, you didn’t even notice the way YoungHo’s expression completely changed since the start of the night until now. His expression is soft but there’s a sense of solemn acknowledgment in his eyes, and you can just feel his disappointment, the weight of reality sinking down on his shoulders. But his lips pull up into a somber smile as he stands up from the sofa and watches you follow his motion, your head hung low in shame.

“I’m so sorry, I’m a horrible person,” You blubber, feeling genuinely guilty, “I’m sorry I’ve wasted so much of your time and efforts and that I’m dumb as fuck and didn’t realize this sooner to avoid all this unnecessary misery. But I just want you to know that I had an amazing time hanging out with you. You’re an awesome guy, YoungHo, and I mean no bullshit when I say that I hope we can stay friends.” You find the courage to look up and directly into his eyes, eyes glistening with remorse. “I really mean that with all of my heart.”

He offers you a smile and it’s small, but to your relief, it’s genuine, and that helps to ease the guilt a little. “Whenever you’re craving thin crust, I’m always just a call away.” He cocks his head towards the door, “Now get out of here and stop being miserable already. Go, before I change my mind.”

You stand on your tiptoes to leave a light peck to his cheek, giving his arm a squeeze before you’re out the door, rushing towards the elevators while fumbling around with your phone to call an uber.

Jungkook may be busy and have more important people and things to tend to, but that doesn’t change the fact that that bastard neglected you and your friendship for an entire month now, that just the thought of him still makes your stomach churn with something miserable and painfully empty, though it feels different in the light of these new feelings you’ve discovered. But at this point, your feelings don’t even matter. And screw all of this “normal progression of adult friendships” crap. All you know is that no matter how you feel, no matter how he feels about you, in the end, you just want your best friend back – you need Jungkook back in your life.

- - - - -   

[7:34PM] You: joon

[7:34PM] You: where the hell has jeon been lately?

[7:35PM] You: bugger won’t reply to my texts and i rly need to talk to him

[7:36PM] Joonie: uhh, lately?

[7:36PM] Joonie: at home

[7:37PM] Joonie: playing overwatch

[7:39PM] You: ……

[7:40PM] You: what

[7:40PM] You: the actual

[7:40PM] You: fuck

[7:42PM] Joonie: what?

[7:44PM] You: for the last 4 weeks

[7:44PM] You: i thought he was busy dying over his demos and hanging out w/ soobin

[7:44PM] You: but he’s been ditching me for OVERWATCH?

[7:46PM] Joonie: well he was dying

[7:47PM] Joonie: he just turned in his demos not too long ago

[7:48PM] You: i’m gonna kick his sorry ass

[7:50PM] Joonie: wait

[7:52PM] You: what

[7:53PM] Joonie: you mean you don’t know?

[7:54PM] Joonie: jungkook didn’t tell you?

[7:55PM] You: ugh what now

[7:56PM] Joonie: dude

[7:58PM] Joonie: jungkook and soobin broke up like a month ago

- - - - -   

“Jungkook!” A breathless shout leaves your lips as you barge through your best friend’s bedroom door, flailing it open and simultaneously scaring the living daylights out of the owner of said bedroom. His hunched figure at the desk jumps up and whirls around at the sound of your voice as his headphones slide off one ear haphazardly.

“Holy Widowmaker, yes hi, hello, shit you scared me.” He exhales all in one breath, eyes still enlarged and mouth hanging slightly ajar. Judging by the look of surprise bordering sheer terror on his face, he definitely wasn’t expecting you. But then again, he doesn’t look like he was expecting anyone, really. He’s wearing a black hoodie that’s one size too big for him and matching colored basketball shorts, the oversized hood pulled up over mussed chestnut hair, and it honestly looks like he hasn’t moved to shower, change, or just move at all. But he still somehow looks so good like that, bits of his wavy hair falling into those warm hazelnut eyes, plump lips parted slightly – so unfairly and effortlessly handsome. It’s a mystery how you faced this man for so many years and somehow remained immune to his gorgeous looks alone (well, as long as he was fully clothed).  

“Wow,” You manage to get out between rapid breaths from quite literally running straight to Jungkook’s apartment from YoungHo’s place. You glance at his computer monitor before focusing back on him. “You really are playing Overwatch.”

He tilts his head in confusion. “Uh, why yes, I am?”

The urge to smack him for giving such a lame and frustratingly obvious answer is strong, but since he doesn’t understand the context from which you state this, you decide to spare him from your wrath for the time being, putting away the fists of fury for now as you march over to where he’s sitting in his fancy black and red, almost half cocoon-shaped gaming chair.

“How are you Jungkook? How’ve you been lately?” The questions roll off your tongue icily, eyes narrowing into slits that are meant to be intimidating, but it doesn’t look like it does all that much to Jungkook. From the way his eyes are still bulging out comically, it seems he still hasn’t fully gotten over the shock from your grand entrance as he mumbles a dazed “uh alright, how ‘bout you?” under his breath.

“Oh good, I’m glad, just so glad.” Sarcasm drips from your voice, and it’s hard to keep it from shaking. “And me? Oh well I’m just peachy – feeling fan-fucking-tastic.”

“You sure ‘bout that?” He queries, crinkling his nose in disagreement and looking too cute for his own good, “‘cause you sure as hell don’t sound or look like it.”

“Oh no, really, I’m just dandy!” Hands on your hips, you raise a brow at him and click your tongue once, “I’m just thrilled to see my best friend again after he avoided me for four weeks straight without any solid explanation as to why. It’s nice to see you’re still alive and kicking virtual ass, that’s all.” Slowly slipping his headphones off and setting them besides his mouse on the desk, Jungkook hesitantly rises to his feet, looking guilty, apologetic, but also slightly frustrated as he approaches you. He chooses to stand a few feet away, hands slipping into his pockets as he shifts his gaze to the floor. You can just feel this new barrier separating the two of you, and that realization hurts, especially since you still have no idea why he’s been acting so damn weird around you lately.

His lower lip is caught between his teeth, his eyes flitting around nervously as he contemplates what to say, how to explain the mess that was the last four weeks in order for it to make sense to you. But you’ll wait as long as it takes to hear him out and to resolve this issue. You’ve already waited four weeks, what’s another couple of seconds, minutes, or hours more? What else do you have left to lose?

You decide to help him out, though. You’re not sure it’s the best move to make, but you know it’ll get the job done and get the ball rolling for sure. So you bite the bullet and go for it, your voice much quieter and timid than before.

“How- how have you and Soobin been doing?”

It goes completely silent in the room safe for the almost inaudible sound of breathing and your heart beat pounding against your ear drums; besides that, it’s so quiet you would probably be able to hear a pin drop if one did. A thick tension begins to cloud the air that lies between you two as you wait for him to answer, for him to finally admit that he’s been lying, for him to stop with the bullshit and tell you what’s really going on with him. And after a few more excruciating moments, you begin to see him come around. It starts with how he squeezes his eyes shut and bites down on his lower lip even harder, staying like that for a few moments, the regret so evident in his expression. He knows he’s been caught red handed – that there’s no more escaping this conversation.

“Who told you?” Jungkook finally grits out, a low murmur under his breath as he trains his sights on the floor boards.

“Well, not you, that’s for sure.” You answer, the soft tone of your voice contrasting the sting that accompanies that comment. “Since you weren’t replying to my texts, I asked Namjoon about where the hell you’ve been lately, and he just suddenly dropped the bomb on me.” When all he does is continue to stare at the floor some more, you sigh, trying to cover up the way your lip quivers. You hate this weird awkwardness between you, and you want nothing more than for things to be okay again between you two – it’s driving you absolutely insane.

“What’s been going on these past few weeks, Jungkook?” You push on, silently begging for him to just give in already.

“___, I,” Jungkook stutters, raking a hand through his hair, the movement pushing his hoodie off his head to fully reveal his face. When the dim light from the lamp hits his face, only then do you realize just how haggard he looks. It’s almost like he hasn’t been getting very good sleep, much like yourself this past month. “I’ve just been… really busy.”

“Wrong answer, try again.” You refuse to lose to his stubbornness, not when you’ve come this far, not when things have escalated this much, not when your friendship feels like its dangling on its last fraying thread. He’s stubborn, but you’re a Taurus, and you are hell-bent on getting answers out of him, even if it means just standing there staring at him all night. You need to break down this new all he’s built up against you – it’s all you can think to do to get your best friend back.

Jungkook must sense your unwillingness to back down because he suddenly runs a hand down his face, a heavy sigh resonating from his chest. He knows this is all unavoidable – that now’s the time to lay it all out on the table. So he does, and nothing can prepare you for what he’s about to say.

“I was scared.”

Not expecting that answer at all, your brows furrow together in concern, and you feel your hands itching to just reach out and hold Jungkook, who can’t seem to lift his head and for once just looks so small. “Scared? Of what?”

“I, I thought I had more time,” He peeks out from under his eyelashes, lips forming a grim line, “more time left with you.”

Confusion fills your expression. “You make it sound like I’m dying and only have a few days left to live or something. What do you mean you thought you had more time?”

Jungkook clenches his jaw. It’s obvious that bringing all of his thoughts and feelings to the surface is proving to be a lot harder than it may seem. His hands keep curling into fists and unfurling over and over, the movement full of anxiety and tension. But then to your relief he finally speaks, breaking the silence with his quiet confession.

“For so many years, it’s just been me and you, and honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He starts off, voice soft and hesitant. “Even after college, we still somehow made it a routine to see each other at least what, twice a week? And then somehow Fat Fridays became a thing, our thing, and just having you by my side became enough for me. That’s all I ever needed.” His expression twists into one of distress, his brows knitting together, “Then all of a sudden, Hari and Tae convince you to start searching for a boyfriend to help with your quarter life crisis, and before I can even blink, you’re off on your first blind date who ends up being some dude that doesn’t know how to shut up to save his life.” You cringe inwardly at the thought of Date #1, doing your best to not let it show on your face for fear of interrupting Jungkook’s flow. Luckily he doesn’t seem to notice it and continues on, taking a cautious step towards you 

“So what choice did I have left? I didn’t know what to do with myself, so I somehow ended up downloading a couple of those dating apps you were using and made my own profile. And as you know, that’s how I met Soobin.” Jungkook smiles sadly, scoffing quietly to himself. “I – I had to fill the void somehow. And she seemed cool, liked anime, and she was pretty so I figured, why not give it a shot? If you were out there giving all those losers a chance, I might as well do the same.”

“Wait,” You interrupt him, pinching the bridge of your nose in confusion, “so you only dated Soobin because I was dating other guys?” He nods solemnly, shame filling his expression. “But why? Just because you thought I wouldn’t have time for you anymore?” Heart clenching inside your chest, you reach out to take a hold of his hand, “Jeon, you should’ve talked to me about this instead of avoiding me like the plague. You need to know that no matter what, I will always have time for you. You’re my best friend, and there’s no one else I can do Fat Fridays with – there is always time for you in my life.”

“No, that’s not it.” Jungkook interjects quietly, shoulders sagging like the energy is being sapped out of him. The sadness etched in his eyes make your heart sink even further – it makes you afraid to hear the rest of what he has to say.

He inhales deeply, involuntarily tightening his grip on your hand. “I was always afraid it’d happen one day, losing you to another guy. But honestly, I thought I still had time. When your first few online dates flopped, I was so relieved because it still meant I had time left with you. But then,” He exhales, his expression hardening slightly, “this YoungHo guy comes out of nowhere and sweeps you off your feet, makes you laugh and looks at you like he’s hit the jackpot and it just made me feel sick to the stomach. Then he offers to take you home,” Jungkook lets out a short laugh, the sound incredulous and wounded at the edges, “and that was the cherry on top. In that moment, I didn’t care if Soobin was there, I didn’t even care that she was my girlfriend at the time, as horrible as that may sound – all I knew was that some other guy was taking you home, and I just couldn’t take it anymore.”

“It felt like all of my worst nightmares were coming true. You looked like you were so into him, and he looked just as smitten with you, and when he left with you that night, I thought ‘wow, this is it.’” Jungkook closes his eyes briefly in anguish, as if just saying the words themselves is painful for him. “I thought ‘this is how I lose her – this is how I officially run out of time with the one girl I need in my life. I’m such a coward for not saying something sooner, for not taking the risk and just going for it. This – this is it.’”

Jungkook slowly looks up to meet your eyes, watching as tears gather at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over at any second. All this time, your best friend was fighting in a silent battle against his fears and insecurities, and the worst part is that those fears and insecurities involved you. You were so dumb and blind and really had no idea this is what was happening to him this whole time. But it’s all starting to make sense now. Why he was so upset that night at the Sound Bar. Why he was making up excuses to avoid you. Why he’s been hiding for the last month – it was to avoid having this very conversation. He thinks this is the last night he’ll ever have with you.

“That night, I went back to Soobin’s place and man, she let me have it.” Jungkook chuckles, the sound not happy in the least bit. “She was pissed, and rightly so. She told me she didn’t get why I was even dating her in the first place when it was obvious that all I cared about was you.” Giving your hand a gentle squeeze, Jungkook steps closer so that now, finally, his toes line up with yours, his body towering over you and dark eyes searching yours intently, as you take in his scent that smells like home, and it helps to ease the sharp sting in your heart a little. His other hand finds yours so that he’s holding them both, so gently within his palms, thumbs tracing your knuckles gently, affectionately.

“If you don’t get it by now, even after all I’ve said, then you’re a real idiot.” Jungkook jokes lightly, but his muscles are tense and shoulders hang heavily in stark contrast to his words. “But you’re also a moron for not realizing that I’ve been in love with you ever since you kicked my ass in Mario Kart freshman year of college.”

It took you all these years, a quarter-life-crisis, several horrible blind dates, and even a potential boyfriend to get your eyes to finally open and truly see what Jungkook has just confirmed for you. It’s just that when someone is by your side that often, that regularly, it becomes natural to have them there, to have their presence nearby almost at all times and it’s so nice not having to question it. It’s so easy to get comfortable and not consider any other ideas or feelings because why do that when what you’ve got is already so good? Why venture into dangerous territory when life is great in the safe zone? But that’s exactly what Jungkook did. He embraced those very ideas and feelings and kept them bottled up and neatly tucked away all these years, knowing what you two had was so good, knowing it wasn’t worth risking the friendship you two had built up and nurtured over time. He never pushed his feelings onto you, or held you back from anything just because he felt a certain way about you. All he did was stay by your side the entire time, protecting you, silently loving you and figuring out life with you every step of the way. It’s always been Jungkook – it’s always been him.

“You know, you’re gonna need to thank YoungHo after this.” You mutter after a brief and tense silence, a tear escaping to trickle down your cheek.

Jungkook, who still has worry and stress scribbled all over his face, visibly recoils at the sound of the name of the man who was once after your heart as well. “And why would I ever need to do that?”

Not letting another moment go to waste, you suddenly perch up onto the tips of your toes, letting go of Jungkook’s hands to cup his cheeks and press your lips against his. Hands snaking through soft, wavy locks, you press yourself further into his plush petal lips, moving your mouth gently against his as he remains frozen in place. It takes him a few seconds to react, and in those few moments you can imagine what he must look like – shell-shocked doe eyes, eyebrows raised in astonishment because is his best friend really kissing him right now? But then slowly he begins to melt into your touch, brushing against your flesh hesitantly, as if he can’t believe this is all happening, his hands finding the small of your back to pull you flush against his chest. You capture his top lip between the two of yours and gently suckle on it for a moment as if to reassure him that this is real and that it’s all okay now. He seems to take the hint because then he’s suddenly sliding a hand up your sides to cradle your head, lips fervently chasing after yours, tongue swiping at your bottom lip, begging to be let in. With a small moan, you allow him to lick into your mouth, the wet muscle hurriedly fighting for dominance with yours in a way that makes heat pool in your lower abdomen.

You never knew it would feel so right to kiss Jungkook like this, to feel him moan against your skin and graze his warm hands all along the curves of your body. The more accustomed you become to his touch, the more you want him – the more you crave him. But before it can get any more heated, he slows his movements before pulling away, slightly breathless, more strands of hair scattered messily on his forehead to frame his gorgeous face, the stupid stupid face you’ve missed with your entire being.

“Please say it.” Jungkook breathes out, chest rising and falling as he tries to catch his breath, his eyes dark and dripping with want. “Before we move on, before anything else happens I just- I need to hear you say it.” Feeling his hot breaths fan against your skin, onyx eyes fixated on yours, it’s in this moment that you realize you would do anything for this man. That even though he gazes at you like you’ve got galaxies in your eyes, he’s the one who owns every inch of your stubborn and stupidly blind heart. You don’t blame him for wanting, no, needing, solid affirmation after everything he’s been through, after everything the both of you have endured. And you yourself don’t want to hold back any longer either. But despite how overwhelmed you are with emotion, a playful grin twitches at the corners of your lips. Because this is still Jungkook you’re dealing with here – and you plan on dealing with him the way you would any other day.

“I…” You stutter, watching Jungkook’s eyes widen with anticipation as you utter the words he’s been waiting for years to hear.

“I love Park SeoJoon.”

You make the declaration playfully, unable to contain the wide smile that fully spreads across your face. There’s just no other way you could ever imagine this moment playing out. And to your delight, Jungkook growls at this and presses your body tightly against him, causing a laugh to slip past your lips. It feels so euphoric to finally be able to actually laugh and joke like this after spending these past few dismal weeks without your best friend – without the love of your life.

“Don’t make me make you say it.” His threat is empty, and it shows in the way he leans his forehead against yours, eyes crinkled at the corners and twinkling brightly even in the dimly lit room. And the way he looks at you has the words falling from your lips before you can even think to say them.

“I love you, Jeon Jungkook, more than just a friend. I love you so much more than just that.” Your cheeks feel like they’re going to split from how much you’re smiling. “And I’m sorry it took me a whole ninety-eight light years to realize it. I’m the village idiot.”

Jungkook turns his head to snort and you expect him to say something sassy back like he usually does, but instead he just beams with a radiant glow you don’t think you’ve ever seen on him before, or on anyone else, for that matter. He gazes at you like a man who, after endlessly searching far and wide for miles and years on end, has finally met the end of his sufferings and is being rewarded for his hardship – like a man who has finally returned to his home.

Completely satisfied with your answer, Jungkook pulls you back into his embrace, the shape of his lips immediately molding to fit yours. He tastes sweet with a hint of bitter saltiness from the one or two tears that escape as you close your eyes to meet his kiss with your own, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. These are tears of relief and joy – a sign that everything is going to be okay from now on.

Suddenly you jump up and hook your legs around his waist, and he lets out a small grunt from your unexpected attack, but he reacts quickly and catches you with no effort required, his hands immediately finding and supporting your bottom as he leans back in to kiss you, caressing your lips with his own like he just can’t get enough of you.

“Are- are you okay with this?” Jungkook murmurs between kisses, giving your ass a tentative squeeze, to which you just sigh into his lips, giving him a small nod before you reclaim his mouth. With a kiss to match every step he takes, Jungkook carries you to his bed before gingerly laying you back, his lips still attached to yours, only parting to trail kisses along your jaw and up the column of your neck until he finds a sweet spot right behind your ear. The feeling of his lips gently nipping at the sensitive area there has you arching up into his chest, your fingers finding their way under his shirt to stroke up and down the skin of his back in a light, feathery motion.

“You really, really have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” Jungkook whispers against your skin, catching your earlobe between his teeth, “How long I’ve wanted you.”

“Jungkook,” His name comes out in an airy breath, your eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of his hands exploring your body, gently skimming down your sides and eventually lifting the hem of your shirt.

“Mmm, babe.” His hands slip beneath the fabric to caress the skin of your torso just beneath the swell of your breasts, head lifting from the crook of your neck to meet your eyes, a teasing lilt in his voice. “I am allowed to call you that now without getting beaten up, right?”

“Jeon, if you don’t hurry up and strip and get the show on the road already, I’m gonna do more than just beat you up, baby.” You snap jokingly, but it’s impossible to ignore the need and impatience clearly embedded in your voice, your dark pupils blown out and full of lust. You hold back a giggle at how Jungkook’s eyes go saucer wide, a visible confirmation for how he interpreted your words as a flush quickly creeps up his cheeks as well, making him look so cute, it’s almost unbearable. But he immediately shuts down all those thoughts as he rises up to his knees to pull off his hoodie, tight abdominal and pectoral muscles greeting you as he stares down at you, his gaze potent and heavy.

“Holy cheezits.” You exhale, eyes hungrily raking over the honey-glazed skin and the intricate lines that make up the map of his toned body. This time, you have no shame in openly gawking at all the hard work and dedication that has obviously paid off for him as you admire the lean muscles of his shoulders and arms and the way two particular crevices at his hip bones create a sharply defined “V” shape, the lines narrowing and then disappearing beneath the waistband of his shorts. He seems to notice your lack of shame too and chuckles darkly at the sight of your wide eyes drinking him in.

“What, are you hungry or something?” He laughs, and the sound is like music to your ears after not having heard the beautiful sound for so long. “Like, do you really have to bring up food right before I’m about to make you forget everything but my name?”

You suck in a breath and just hold it there at his bold words, words you never thought you’d ever hear him say, especially to you. “Is that a threat or a promise?”

He smiles before bending forward to leave a gentle kiss on your lips. “It’s whatever you want it to be, baby.”

That night, it felt like all hell broke loose, and the truth was finally brought to light. That life changing, very over-delayed night, Jungkook made sure to take his time with you. After several weeks apart and countless years of stuffing his emotions down his own throat, instead of rushing and letting it all end up as one big blur in his memory, he made sure to etch every kiss, every fluttering touch against your warm skin, every breathy moan and call of his name deep into his memory, to fully indulge in your warmth and the weight of your body against his. He teased you slowly with his touch, his mouth, the press of his body, while embedding the feeling of your smooth skin into his finger tips to remember forever, even though he knew he’d have many more opportunities to do so. He let himself come unraveled in front of you as you teased him right back, drawing your name from his lips in sweet low moans as you pleasured him and made his deepest, darkest fantasies come to life. You brought each other to your highs over and over again, kissing, caressing and exploring every single inch of skin available. Countless I love yous were pulled from your lips as he rocked into you, slowing down and then speeding up his pace, bringing you to the edge of your high only to bring you back down,  whispering even sweeter confessions and promises against your skin as you came for him, satiated him, and loved him with your entire existence.

At the wee hours of the morning, the two of you finally spent and tangled up in one another’s arms, breaths and heart beats matching and slowing to a sleepier pace, you pressed light kisses to his bare chest as he tucked your head under his chin, pulling you even closer against him, the feeling so indescribably perfect, like that’s where you have belonged the entire time. And in the few moments of consciousness before sleep took you captive for the night, Jungkook lightly stroking his fingers against your naked back, it dawned on you in that moment that what you’ve been missing the entire time was never an exciting, wild nightlife or having new hobbies to try out all the time. It wasn’t even going on dates or just having any old boyfriend and living life as the other young adults do. You realized that Jungkook’s always been the so called “missing piece” you felt you needed, even though he was always right there in front of your eyes all this time. He was just a piece of your puzzle of life that’s been sitting in the wrong spot – until now. It was him that you needed, and not just his friendship, not just his company, but his everything, Jungkook’s entire being – you just needed Jungkook.

With this in mind, sleep finally claimed you prisoner as you felt one more I love you whispered against your skin, a smile left on your lips as you slowly faded away into unconsciousness.

Being an adult wasn’t turning out to be so bad, not when you have everything you could ever need in your arms – not when you have Jungkook, your everything.

- - - - - 

[Loser’s club group chat]

Hari: ___ where are you?

Hari: why you won’t pick up

Hari: your apartments empty

Hari: AND WE’RE LATE FOR BRUNCHHH

Hari: srsly anyone know where she at?

Tae: let her be bruh, maybe she just got laid or something

Hari: why are you texting me i’m standing right next to you

Hari: and omg wait, could it be?

Yoongs: i can’t believe i had to sleep in the studio last night because of them

Joon: yall know i normally sleep like the dead but not last night holy shit

Tae: omg IT FINALLY HAPPENED

Tae: THE RED SEAAA

Hari: um excuse me

Hari: WHOS THEM???

Joon: PSA – jeon’s a very verbal lover

Joon: and a moaner

Joon: like a LOUD moaner

Hari: JEON??

Hari: LIKE ___ AND JEON??!!?

Hari: OR IS THAT JUST YOUNGHO’S NEW NICKNAME OR SOMETHING??

Hari: IT FINALLY HAPPENED??? WHAT THE FUCK????

Yoongs: seriously took em long enough

Yoongs: been eye fuckin each other for years now

Tae: HALLELUJAH FELIZ NAVIDAD YALL

Joon: so all it took was ___ going on a couple of blind dates huh

Joon: should’ve done this ages ago then

You: uhh

You: good morning everyone

You: i honestly

You: don’t even know what to say

JK: what can i say folks

JK: i tend to leave em speechless ;)

Hari: JOON

Hari: YOONGS

Hari: TAE AND I ARE COMING OVER LEAVE THE DOOR UNLOCKED

Hari: YOU HAVE A SHITTON OF EXPLAINING TO DO MISSY

Tae: don’t worry guys ill stall her

Tae: so you can get dressed and shit

Tae: or don’t. your choice ;)

JK: its all good

JK: ___ still has a lot of explaining to do for me as well

JK: we’re all waiting babe

Hari: BABE?!?!?!

Hari: omg i could cry i never thought i’d live to see this day come

You: ………

You: it’s gonna be a long day

[selfindulgentpoorlywritten]

Home (T. Konecny & N. Patrick Imagine)

I didn’t finish this, but I don’t have the motivation to either. So enjoy 3k of self-indulgent bs I wrote when I was upset.

Rating: T

Pairing: T. Konecny/Reader/N. Patrick

Words: 3008

Warnings: Food, general negativity

Requested: yes / no

Summary: *Daniel Powter voice* You had a bad day...

Life sucks.

Life sucks and everything is terrible and you’re so fucking tired.

Your shift had gotten changed and no one bothered to tell you, so you woke up at 5:15 to your manager asking why you weren’t there yet, even though you usually don’t start until 7. Thus, you had to scramble through getting ready and driving to work in record time, except you didn’t realize until you’d gotten to the stadium that you’d forgotten your badge, so not only were you late, but they had to make you a temporary. Luckily you’re generally a good employee, so you just had to apologize a thousand times and work a little faster than usual, which is objectively better than getting fired. But it also sucked extra, because the reason your shift had been changed was due to them accidentally giving too many people the day off, so you were understaffed with a 3 o’clock 76’ers game to prepare for. Even on a calm day, hauling around boxes of food and delivering them to the kitchens was enough of a workout to justify not spending money on a gym membership, but with being half staffed and starting late, you were ready to collapse by time you were finished. Your entire body ached.

It would have been bad enough if it were just a rushed day, but everyone seemed to be in a pissy mood as well. The cooks snapped at you, because the chefs snapped at them, except the chefs also snapped at you, so you just got the business end of everyone’s bad mood. Plus you always felt bad when you were late to work or late with a delivery anyway, and you’d barely been sleeping, and you were constantly hungry but too nauseous to eat, and you couldn’t sit still for five minutes but moving was exhausting. So you were just guilty and irritated and mad at the entire world but mostly at yourself.

Once you clock out, you don’t even bother pretending to consider going back to your place. Traffic is a bitch, because you head out at the same time everyone is coming in for the game. You want to scream. You may or may not roll your windows up and do so, but no one can prove anything.

By time you reach your destination, the frustration has faded to leave you empty and apathetic and more tired than you’ve been in a long time. The doorman greets you, and usually you’d ask how he is and make small talk for a minute, but right now all you can do is shoot him as much of a smile as you can manage and thank him as you enter. The elevator ride feels like it takes a thousand years. The sight of their door is your first bit of relief in days; you don’t even have to dig out your key because it’s unlocked. Leaving it unlocked is probably not the most responsible decision, but they’re not the most responsible pair out there, and you might have sent them several frustrated texts during stolen seconds throughout the morning that would imply you’d be coming over.

You stop in the entryway to drop your bag and kick off your (ugly) regulation non-slip shoes. Just being here allows you to take a deep breath and relax, even minutely. You find Nolan in the kitchen, leaning on the island as he reads something on his phone and snacks on something definitely not on his diet plan. For a moment, you allow yourself to simply look. To appreciate the strong cut of his jaw, the constant flush of his cheeks, the curl of his hair against the nape of his neck.

“Hey nerd,” you greet, padding over to wrap your arms around him from behind. He hums, pressing back into you a bit. With your face buried into him, eyes closed, you can hear the quiet clack of him putting his phone down.

“Bad day, huh?” he asks, already knowing the answer. You just groan, pulling away enough to grab his hand and pull him out of the kitchen and toward the couch. He sits obediently, propping his feet up on the ottoman so you can spread out over the rest of the couch with your head in his lap. One hand on the side of your neck, he uses the other to play with your hair and scratch your scalp. It can’t be pleasant for him. You’re still sweaty and grimy from work, desperately in need of a shower, but he continues nevertheless.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks. You don’t really want to, and you know he probably doesn’t want to either, so you save both of you the trouble by shaking your head.

“When’s Travis gonna be home?” you ask after a few minutes, turning onto your back after breaking the peaceful silence. Nolan checks his watch.

“Like twenty minutes,” he says, settling his hand over your collarbone now that you’ve turned. You let out another groan. Twenty fucking minutes.

“He’s at a meeting, he’ll be home soon,” Nolan mumbles, trying to appease you. Soon, hah, not soon enough. It was nice to mope with Nolan, doing nothing but laying around and letting his calm demeanor soothe you, but you always prefer to have them both around. Nolan can settle you like no other, but Travis was better at actually cheering you up. Working together, they made the perfect resolution to a shitty day.

Twenty minutes ends up being closer to thirty. The first half is spent with Nolan stroking his thumb along the skin under the collar of your uniform shirt, until you start feeling too gross and decide you should definitely get a shower. They have way better water pressure than you do, and you savor the hot water beating over your sore back until you hear the front door open. Trav is home. After giving yourself a cursory towel-dry and wrapping the (ridiculously) soft towel around yourself, you don’t bother getting dressed before bounding out to intercept him before he can even make it through the bedroom door. He laughs when you catch him in a hug, but squeezes you back nonetheless.

The two of you get changed together, chatting a bit about your days. He switches from his suit to a t-shirt and athletic shorts, and you pick out something cozy from your designated drawer. The urge to steal something of theirs to comfort yourself is powerful, but you resist, because you have them already. Who needs one of their oversized shirts when you have the real deal?

Once dressed, Travis wraps his arms around you from behind, huddling up against your back and enveloping you in his perpetual warmth. He waddles the two of you to the living room, keeping you plastered to his front, like a parent helping their child work out their first unsteady steps. The exaggerated swaying is exactly ridiculous enough to get a laugh out of you, the barest giggle that feels cathartic after the awful day you’ve had. The sound makes Travis cheer, pulling your arm up into a fistpump of success, which only makes you giggle more. As previously stated: Travis is really good at cheering you up.

During your time in the master suite, Nolan has gathered various pillows and blankets from around the condo and made a sort-of nest on the couch. You grab your favorite stuffed animal from the pile the second Travis lets you go, fussing with the pile of bedclothes until it’s arranged to your satisfaction. Then you proceed to arrange Travis and Nolan to your liking; Nols on the left with his feet on the ottoman as he likes, Trav wedged into the corner on the right, one leg spanning the back of the couch until his foot can bury itself behind Nolan, while the other leg is bent at the knee to settle his left foot flat on the floor. They are both more than adequately propped and padded with pillows, allowing them to be comfortable whilst providing you the perfect resting place.

The moment you’re fully settled in-- head on Travis’s left thigh, feet on Nolan’s lap, angled perfectly to see the TV without straining your neck or eyes, nor sacrificing full view-- Nolan hands you the remote without debate or question. You click through the usual streaming services for a few minutes, finding nothing of interest. Honestly, you already know what you want to watch, who are you kidding. Rather than continue the charade of considering other options, you click through to a less-than-savory streaming app Trav had installed a while back, despite Nolan’s concern for viruses. You go straight to the search bar and quickly to your favorite cheer-up movie, lodging the remote half under your forearm after pressing play. One final adjustment in position, and you’re set for the next two hours.

Throughout the movie, Nolan absently massages your calves and ankles, which he’s unusually good at, probably from getting so many massages at the rink. Travis scratches your scalp gently, rubbing at the base of your skull now and again, lucky to get you post-shower. They both let you make your commentary without complaint, even throwing their own comments in here and there. Maybe you got a bit too into the things you liked, and learned a gratuitous amount about them, and occasionally wanted to share your knowledge, despite it being entirely useless. You didn’t need to feel smart, necessarily, just heard. Understood.

The screen finally fades to black, jumping back to the preview screen automatically. Though Nol maneuvers your legs so he can stand and hobble to the kitchen, shaking out his knees along the way, you simply close your eyes and appreciate the situation. Yes, you had a shitty day. But you also have two wonderful, loving boyfriends who put off their game tape to watch your favorite movies for the millionth time, curl up with you for hours even if it makes their joints go stiff, listen to you ramble about the things you’re passionate about with admiration rather than complaint… You’re burrowed under your favorite comforter, with your favorite people, in a safe place, with the promise of forever under your tongue.

Nolan brings back two bowls with a properly portioned amount of diet-appropriate snacks, that he hands to you and Travis to hold while he settles back in. One bowl has these weird “bites” that only Nolan likes, so that ends up in his hands before you start the next movie, Trav holding the bowl of home-made trail mix the both of you will presumably share. You all snack and watch your favorite rom-com, probably more invested than you should be after having seen it this many times. But it serves as an adequate relief from the leftover stress of your day. Plus, witnessing TK and Nolan evolve from pretending not to care about the story, to nearly screaming at the TV when the characters do stupid things, is always a bonus and a privilege. It’s difficult for them, especially as professional hockey players, to express anything both genuine and outside the scope of traditional masculinity, you know that; that’s why it’s such a stunning scene to be allowed to witness. Any time they allow themselves to openly feel around you, you feel more trusted, more loved.

After the fade to black snaps back to the preview screen, it’s roundabout time for a slightly overdue dinner. The three of you debate the merits of ordering out versus making the lemon garlic tilapia you’d picked up the ingredients for the other day, deciding to be responsible and cook the fish before it spoiled. They’re both useless in the kitchen, so they mostly sit at the island and provide entertainment while you cook, occasionally bringing you something you need. In the past, you’d attempted to teach them some culinary skills, but in the interest of not burning the condo down most of the cooking is left to you or their chef. Because they have a personal chef, like the rich bastards they are. But again, you’d rather they not die in a grease fire, so maybe that’s for the best. Even if you’re a little jealous.

The recipe is fairly straightforward, so it’s not too much work after your long day. And making food always makes you feel a little better anyway, especially if you’re making it for other people. Food is love, and all that, so it was just nice to work on something and have someone actually appreciate it (instead of yelling at you for being ten minutes late). The boys get into an argument about the best way to counteract some opponent’s play style, or something like that, and you have to give them each a good whack on the arm with the spatula to get them to disengage. Luckily, dinner is ready not long after, so they don’t have time to work themselves back up.

They both help you serve the food, setting out plates and glasses and silverware on the small wooden table as you dish out fish and rice and squash. The larger filets go to them, as well as a heartier portion of sides. They’re gonna need as much as they can get before the official season starts and they end up losing all the weight they’d gained over the summer. When you’re at home, dinner is a quiet affair. Usually it’s just you eating on the couch as you watch a show or scroll social media. With Travis and Nolan, however, dinner is loud and long and engaging. The both of them talk throughout the meal, pulling you into the conversation so often that your rice is almost cold before you finish it. For as long as you’d lived alone, you’d convinced yourself that you were okay with the silence-- enjoyed it, actually-- but after your first dinner with the boys, you couldn’t deny that the commotion was infinitely preferable.

Clean-up is a breeze between the three of you, Trav and Nolan doing the bulk of the work to make up for not cooking. All you have to do is hand the dishes to Nolan so he can wash them, handing them off to Travis to dry and put away. Trav had been banned from washing after a few too many arguments about what constituted “clean”. You’re not entirely sure it wasn’t a ploy to get out of the hardest work, but you and Nolan love him, so you’ll let it slide. On occasion, you’ll play background music while you clean. This is one of those occasions, and you’re caught off guard when Nolan perks up and Travis drops the plate in his hands to the counter with a clatter.

“It’s our song!” he says, almost loud enough to make you worry about retaliation from the neighbors. But it is your song, so you’re not particularly worried about what Mr. Steinberg thinks.

The three of you move at the same time, Nolan placing the cup in his hand into the sink and you setting the pan you’re holding back into the pile, letting Travis lead you into the more open space between the stove and island, where you’re less likely to break something. As the music plays, you all move more-or-less in sync. Travis and Nols swing each other around as you spin around them, only to be pulled in so Nolan can push and pull you around while Trav shimmies around you. You’re all laughing, singing along to the old jazz song, Sinatra’s deep croon guiding you around the tiled floor. This is one of those rare times that Nolan really lets himself go, allows himself to smile and laugh and dance like no one is watching. Or maybe like you and Travis are watching, and he feels safe enough to be open and happy in front of you both.

After the four or so minutes of the song ends, the three of you converge in a standing pile of smiles and laughter. The three of you exchange kisses and nudge heads and shoulders, just enjoying each other’s company. Enjoying the fact that you get to have this, this overwhelming, chest-bursting happiness. But eventually, you have to return to the dishes. Instead of being a chore, it’s significantly more an activity to do together. The three of you chatter as you wash, unable to wipe the smiles from your faces-- even Nolan.

As Travis places the last cup in the cabinet, you allow Nols to wrap his arms around you, enveloping you in his warmth. Rather than complain, as he usually does, Travis simply joins in, wrapping his arms around the both of you. You’re entirely encompassed by their affection, doing your absolute best to radiate appreciation and affection. You’re not sure that you’ll ever be able to express how much their care means to you; but you’re also not sure you’ll ever truly understand how they feel about you, either. But no one does this for someone they don’t love dearly. They don’t watch shitty movies, or pet your greasy hair, or dance around the kitchen to your old music-- not even just to cheer you up. Just because that’s who you are and what you like, and they want to be a part of that-- no one does all of that unless they love you.

Time passes; maybe a minute, maybe an hour. All you know is the hard stretch of Travis and Nolan’s chests against your back and front, their heat, the softness of their lips against your cheeks, neck, forehead, shoulders, nose, jaw…

Eventually, you have to part. It takes a bit of effort to slip out from between them, partially because you’re pressed so closely together, but mostly because you don’t really want to leave this place, ever. If you could stay pressed between them forever, you would, without question. They’re your safe space, your home. More than any physical location could be.

[lucy-sky]

Birthday Headcanons Vol. 2

Happy Birthday my dear friend and Rockwell Psycho soulmate @magnetoserik!!! 

I’ve already written a longer introduction to this post, but Tumblr didn’t save it. Pretty frustrating because I planned to make 3 things for your Birthday, but due to these sudden health issues managed to finish just this one... And it doesn’t let me post it! Okay, attempt #2:

Here you will see the characters who didn’t take part in Birthday headcanons last year (however there’s a little bonus in the end). Some of them might be a bit too cheesy (Charley), sorry for that. Also I apologize for possible mistakes and promise to correct them later (that’s why I put the whole text under “read more” thingy) Hope you enjoy these anyways and they will make you smile :)

Once again, Ily and I am really really blessed to have you in my life.

Hugs, Lucy 

Update: Mistakes corrected, woohooo!!! Well, most of them, I hope :DDD

Victor Mancini

You’ve just recently started dating and it’s important for Victor to show you that you mean way, way, WAY more than just a sexual partner for him. Normal relationship is something still new and a bit confusing for him, but he’s trying his best. So he asks you out on a classic date: a movie and a dinner. What could go wrong? Yet, you didn’t make it to the dinner. Who knew the lovely romantic movie Vic chose for this date would suddenly become such a turn on for both of you. You could blame it on the movie setting, or the chemistry between the characters, or… But who are you lying to? The truth is – yes, there was chemistry, but mostly between the two of you. You enjoyed his closeness, his hand on yours, stroking your skin gently… Eventually you ended up shamelessly kissing and cuddling, thankfully the cinema hall was half empty… Somehow you managed to watch the movie until the end, but afterwards the only thing you both could think about is bed. So instead of the dinner you headed straight to your place and had a really passionate night (honestly, you almost did it right at the door, if you get what I mean…) In the morning Vic, with a slightly guilty look on his face presented you a chocolate cupcake with a lit candle on top of it.

- It was in my bag all the time, but uhhh… I completely forgot…

- That’s okay, - you say with a soft chuckle. - Not that we had much time for that…

- Wonder why all my attempts to be sweet and romantic end up naked in bed like this, - Victor murmurs as you cuddle closer to him. - It’s more than that with you, do you know that?

- Sure, - you reply, stroking his soft messy hair. - I don’t have any doubts.

John Moon

John loves hiking. You love it too. So you both liked the idea of celebrating your birthday together, just you and him, in a place far away from the annoying hustle and bustle of the city. You grab your favorite snacks and drive along the woods to the mountains. You find the most beautiful place with an amazing view on the autumn forest. When you stand there together, him holding your hand, you feel like you’re on top of the world and no one can reach you. You make photographs and John watches you, smiling silently. He loves seeing you so happy and excited.

In the evening before heading home you kiss at the campfire, him holding you close to keep you warm. Instead of a Birthday cake you have coffee from the thermos and baked marshmallows for dessert.

John didn’t forget about a present for you too, it’s a small and simple silver pendant in a shape of your favorite flower – a daisy. There are quite a lot of things you like about John, and the fact that he remembers some small details about you which may seem unimportant, is one them.

You come back home pretty late. At Cecil’s farm down the hill the lights are already out. You feel sleepy after such a long day, so you go straight to bed where you make love gently and tenderly and fall asleep in each other’s arms.

Coach Bill

Oh no… His team is playing today!.. You’re a tiny bit sad that he’s busy, but of course you understand. Bill has a suggestion: how about you come and see the game, and afterwards you’d go celebrate your Birthday to your favorite Italian restaurant that serves best pizza in town. You’re not the biggest basketball fan, but you’re always ready to support him (and pizza sounds great too), so you agree on that plan.

So, here you are now, in a school gym, screaming and cheering your boyfriend’s team. After the first period it’s time for the cheerleaders’ performance. At some point you see them unfurling a big banner and your eyes widen in surprise as you see your name and a “Happy Birthday” on it. Bill runs up to you with a wide grin on his face, offers you a hand and leads you to the center of the field. Everyone is clapping to you and you are shocked and incredibly flattered.

The game goes well, Bill’s team wins and as you approach to congratulate them, they all thank you and wish you a Happy Birthday too. Bill asks if you liked his surprise and you tell him how overwhelmed you are and that it’s the most epic thing someone ever did for you.

- And the banner, Bill!.. Did the girls help you making it?..

- Uh, no, you see… I got this idea rather late, so I had to paint it myself, that’s why it’s far from being perfect… But I’m glad you appreciate the attempt, - Bill laughs and you can see him blushing.

- I think it’s absolutely perfect, - you say, as you hug him tightly, pressing your lips to his.

Guy Fleegman

You go to the geek store together, where you spend quite a lot of time discussing books, comics, toys and other cool thingies. Eventually you find costumes and other cosplay stuff. Of course you have to try all these on! In the end you decide to buy something, because the shop assistants already start giving you not very friendly looks… So you choose Princess Leia’s costume for you and Han Solo’s – for him.

Without taking the costumes off you head to the city center and just have fun there walking around and taking funny photos together and with people you meet on the way. It’s a lovely day and your inner child is absolutely happy.

Bob Fosse

To be honest you are pretty sure that Bob forgot about your Birthday. You’re a bit sad about it, but not surprised. You know very well how he can get lost in his work completely. Yes, you prefer to think it’s work, not some other women involved… You’re in relationship for quite a while, but this man is still a mystery for you. You’re not sure how serious this relationship is for him. Anyway, you don’t want to think about it today. You just put on a nice dress and go out with your best friends.

It was a lovely evening, you had fun, but since it’s a weekday, you arrive home before midnight. As you enter your apartment, you immediately hear the phone ringing. Of course it’s Bob. He asks you to come over.

- Bob, it’s late and I’m exhausted, - you say.

- Take a taxi, I’ll pay for it. Come on, y/n… I need to see you…

Mentally cursing yourself for being so weak you agree.

Bob meets you at the door and kisses your hand. As you follow him into his apartment, you see a table served for two, candles twinkling. Music is playing softly.

- Happy Birthday, - says Bob, giving you one of these charming gentle smiles of his.

- Oh, Bob… - You’re a little lost for words. – I… I thought you forgot…

- How could I, sweetheart?

- Well, you’ve been so busy these days we hardly saw each other, - you shrug. He reaches out to stroke your cheek as he looks you in the eye.

- That’s true. And trust me or not, but I missed you as hell. So I ordered some nice food and wine, and… We can finally have some time together, just you and me. How about that?

He sounds honest, or you just want to believe him. You don’t want to analyze it right now.

- Sounds amazing, - you reply, letting him pull you into a gentle yet passionate kiss.

Bucky “The Kid”

Bucky tells you it’s a surprise, so he covers your eyes and doesn’t let you open them while he leads you to his place. When you finally open your eyes, you see a throne made from an old yet pretty cozy armchair on a pedestal of wooden boxes, all decorated with flowers, garlands and twinkle lights. It looks too much in a way, but still really cool. Bucky suggests you get on this throne and pronounces you The Queen of these woods. Of course he didn’t forget to make a crown for you.

Bucky also managed to find a cassette with your favorite movie and you watch it together on his old TV set, eating snacks he prepared for the occasion: cookies, chips, sweets and chocolate bars.

- Oh my god, Bucky! - You laugh. - It looks like a 12 year old kid robbed a supermarket!

- So what! We’re having a party! But if you don’t want this or this, don’t worry – I’m pretty much able to eat all this alone…

- Nah-huh. Don’t even think of it, - you reply, grabbing a chocolate bar.

In the evening there are also fireworks.

Later, you cuddle with him in bed under the stars, and it feels so weird, absolutely surreal. But also incredibly beautiful.

Pero Maholovic

The district Pero lives in is far from being a luxury one. He doesn’t have much money to take you out to a fancy restaurant or something. But he’s one of those guys who can create romance out of nothing, and this kind of romance is always the most sincere. You spend a lovely evening on the rooftop, sitting on a blanket, drinking wine and watching the sunset. 

Pero’s gift for you is a big bunch of bright yellow balloons. 

- They’re just as shiny as you are, - he says.

Together you make paper airplanes, write your dreams and wishes on them and let them fly. 

When it gets darker and colder, you get inside his flat. Pero makes you coffee. The radio plays softly and he pulls you into a playful dance. You wrap your arms around his neck as he hugs your waist, bringing you closer, and then you kiss devotedly, until he eventually grabs you tightly in his strong boxer’s arms, lifts you up and heads to the bedroom.

Francis

Francis has big plans for tonight. First – he takes you to a shooting club. You’re not sure how you feel about this idea, because you were never really interested in guns and shooting, but later you understood why he chose this place – him teaching you how to shoot is actually sexy as hell. You love him speaking in this quiet voice, standing so close your bodies almost touch, his hand on yours… In the end you really enjoyed it and it also gave you some sort of adrenaline rush.

Afterwards you go to a party in a club. There’s a dancing competition, and Francis wouldn’t be Francis if he didn’t convince to take part in it. Once again a new experience for you – you don’t mind dancing in general, but competition… You’ve never consider yourself confident enough for such things. However with him you managed to catch the right mood, and you even win a bottle of expensive champagne which you drink together in bed a couple of hours later.

Robert Goode

Robert is an absolute sweetheart. He brings you flowers and a big box of your favorite candies. He takes you out to a nice bar where a jazz band is playing. Surprisingly it turned out that a couple of the band members used to study with Robert. When they learn about your celebration they play Happy Birthday to you in your honor and all the audience is clapping. Later they invite Robert to play with them, and after a bit of hesitation he sits at the drums. He does really good and you feel proud about your boyfriend.

The rest of the evening you dance, drink, enjoy great music and nice company. Then he takes you home. The weather is lovely even though it’s autumn, so you decide to walk instead of taking a taxi. You hold hands, talk about nothing and everything at once, admire the lights of the night city… You even sing and dance a little on your way. As you get to your porch and it’s time to say good night, you just can’t let him go and after a passionate makeout session at your door you decidedly invite him in. Rob doesn’t seem to mind.

Eddie

Eddie is quite a simple guy. You just take a long stroll with him around the city center. You kick the leaves in the park, take coffee to go, walk into some funny or geeky stores you see on your way, take silly photographs, buy the biggest and the spiciest pizza in a cozy diner, talk and laugh a lot… You feel very comfortable with him, even though you’ve just started dating it feels like you know each other for ages.

In the evening you go to the amusement park where you eat cotton candy and caramel apples; Eddie wins you the biggest teddy bear, and then you kiss on the top of the Ferris wheel.

Charley Ford

Charley’s all sweet and shy. He brings you a bunch of wildflowers and kisses your cheek. You go to one of your favorite places – a beautiful meadow not far from the forest river, hidden from strangers’ eyes by the tall trees.

Lying there on the grass, you watch the clouds passing above you, talk about what you see in them. He holds your hand and you snuggle closer to his chest, feeling warm, calm and safe. Charley kisses the top of your head, and as you look up at him and see his soft and loving gaze, you both know there is no need for words. His lips finally capture yours in a gentle kiss, and for a while the entire words slips out of existence. There’s just you and him, his soft but determined lips, his warm breath against your skin and the sound of your hearts beating together.

Bonus #1: 

Biker! Silas Groves

Silas is not a very big fan of crowded and loud parties. Also you’re really special for him so he wants this day to be for just the two of you. You both hop on his bike and head to the seaside. It’s a bit chilly there at this time of year, the weather is rather cold, but it’s still very beautiful and calm. There’s no one else except you and it’s amazing.

You walk along the beach holding hands, and Silas hugs you tightly, wrapping in his leather jacket to protect you from the wind. You collect seashells and take a few nice photographs of this stunning landscape. You've got coffee in the thermos and Silas has a small flask of whiskey to keep you warm. After a while you leave the beach and spend some time walking around the town. You know in summer there are quite a lot of tourists, but now it’s unusually empty and calm. Most of the bars and cafes are closed, but you still manage to find a lovely diner to have lunch.

Since it’s already pretty late and you drank a bit, you choose not to get back on a bike tonight and stay at a small but pretty cozy hotel. As you got a little cold during your walk, you decide to take a warm shower. Soon Silas joins you and his strong arms wrapping around you, his lips peppering your neck and shoulders with soft kisses, his tickling beard against your skin and his firm body pressing closer to yours warmed you up a lot more than hot water.

You woke up rather late, Silas a bit earlier than you, as usual. You ordered breakfast in the room, and after regaining some energy, you’ve spent a couple more delicious hours in bed before getting back on the bike and heading home.

Bonus #2: 

Jason Dixon

- Hey there! - You smile, entering the kitchen. - How are you guys doing?

- Heeeey, Birthday Girl! - Jason beams at you happily. - We didn’t expect you that early, right, little man?

The little boy giggles in his chair as you come over to give him and your husband a kiss.

- Didn’t you enjoy the girls’ night, huh? - Jason frowns.

- I did! Thank you so much for letting me go, - you reply contently, sitting on his lap, your arm wrapping around his shoulder, as he hugs your waist. - But… I just missed you two so much!

- Well we missed you too, and we made something for you, actually.

- What’s that? - You raise your eyebrow curiously. - Oh! You made me a Birthday card! How cute!

On a sheet of cardboard you see a big sun painted with yellow gouache. It grins at you happily. Its rays are made of spiral pasta noodles, also colored with gouache. Above this work of art there is a caption “You are our sunshine!”

- You like it? - Jason smiles proudly.

- It’s the best card I’ve ever seen, - you say honestly. - Can’t believe you made it by yourselves!

- Bill did a great job, I almost didn’t help him!

You look at your son, who is apparently more interested in coloring another sheet of paper with an orange crayon rather than paying attention to his parents’ conversation.

- I’m very proud of my boys, - you say, leaning in to kiss Jason again.

- That’s not the only surprise, you know, - he smirks against your lips.

- Really?

- Uh-huh. Since it’s your Birthday, I’m gonna grant your any wish tonight… After we get the little one to bed, of course, - he winks.

This playful tone of his never fails to make you weak.

- Oh yeah? - You chuckle, stroking his hair. - Any wish? Absolutely?

- Abso-effin’-lutely, - your husband replies, raising his eyebrows. - I can even wear my uniform…

- Oooh, - you laugh. His jokingly-seductive attitude is absolutely adorable. - And what about the handcuffs, officer?

- Shhh… Let’s not talk about that in front of the kids… - Jason smiles, and you shiver as he kisses the side of your neck. - I’ll think about it though…

You look at his face. His features are so familiar and dear to you. Sometimes, as you look at him like that, and he looks back at you with this tender gaze, and his green eyes are sparkling, the feelings overwhelm you and you feel so lucky you can hardly believe it.

- You know you’re the most precious gift for me, right? - You ask, reaching out to stroke his cheek. - Both of you.

He just nods, kissing your lips again. No need for words, you already know that he feels the same.

- You’ll gonna love me even more after you learn about my most epic surprise, - he murmurs softly in between the kisses, - I ordered pizza...

*

Thanks for reading, and once again - 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!

[artificialqueens]

Cruising for a bruising, Part 6 (Branjie) - Q-Tip & TheDane

Authors note: Thank you to everyone for your comments, support, understanding and enthusiasm. Q-Tip and I are so happy with the love for this story, and we can’t wait to share this (hopefully) second to last chapter with you guys!

“It’s a real fucking tragedy, that’s what it is. Like some greek irony bullshit.”

-

“Bitch! Open up!” Vanjie hammered on the door, her curled fist meeting the wood over and over again. “I know you’re in there!”

Vanjie knew she was causing a racket, but she couldn’t find it within herself to care. The hotel floor was only her and her sisters anyway, so if any of them had a problem with her making noise, they could suck on it and choke. Vanjie had already knocked down Silky and A’keria’s doors before she remembered they had talked about karaoke. She kicked the door, almost ready to scream in rage. Ariel wasn’t responding, and she was running out of options fast.

“Ariel open the fucking door! Ain’t no way in fucking hell you in there getting dick!”

Vanjie knew she couldn’t go to her own room. Their room. It was the first place Brooke would look for her. Her first and only instinct had been to throw her bag into their room and slam the door behind her, her phone already vibrating like a widow’s favourite sex toy as Brooke was calling her over and over again. Vanjie knew she had made a mistake, but she couldn’t see him right now, her blood still boiling with something even worse going on beneath the surface, tears already pushing to spill from her eyes.

“The stupid motherfucker is going to turn the corner at any moment!”

Vanjie couldn’t see Brooke right now, she just couldn’t, but as long as she was dressed as Vanjie, there was no way she could leave the protected area of their hallway, the idea of her fans seeing her like this forcing her throat to close up.

“Ariel, please.” Vanjie whispered, leaning her head against the door. There was nowhere to run but one of her sisters’ rooms, and she cursed the cruise for forcing this on her. If she had been in L.A she could disappear, go to some straight club and toss down drink after drink, but here everyone knew who she was, and there was no way she would let any of her fans see her like a crazed madman, running from who the public knew to be the love of her life.

Vanjie heard footsteps, her hand gripping the doorknob for one last desperate shake, not yet ready to accept her destiny of blowing up in Brooke’s face once more, when she heard the voice of an angel.

“.. Are you okay?”

Nina fucking West had just come down the hallway, a washed out Winnie the Pooh tank sliding off her shoulder, pyjamas pants on, boy hair out, a half-eaten burger in hand, and she had never looked more perfect to Vanjie. Nina lowered the burger slowly, her eyes watching Vanjie like she was an animal in the zoo, a dollop of ketchup dripping onto the carpet.

“Are you destroying cruise property?”

“I ain’t destroying no fucking proper-”

Vanjie was cut off when the door opened, Ariel poking her head out. She was wearing a zebra print eye mask pushed into her hair, her chest on full display in an open bright pink and turquoise robe.

“Can youse fuckknobs carry your drama to your rooms so us actual beauty queens can get our beauty sleep?” Ariel groaned, leaning against the doorframe, barely hiding a yawn.

“Oh, so this is how you treat refugees, sis?” Vanjie threw her arms out, Ariel’s detached boredom only refueling the fire in her belly. “You better be fucking lucky baby Jesus didn’t plan to get born in your room, huh!?”

“Well you’re neither a baby, nor Jesus last time I checked.”

“You absolute BITCH-”

“Shit!”

Vanjie felt Nina knock the air of her as she was grabbed, the other queen physically restraining Vanjie and picking her up, carrying her away as Vanjie left behind a string of curses so crude even Captain Haddock would blush.

/

Brooke had known, should have known, that Vanjie was smart enough to get rid of her phone, but he had called anyway, over and over again, his heart in his throat as he swiped the card for their room, his worst suspicions confirmed when the room turned out to be pitch black, the outline of Vanjie’s gym bag visible on their bed.

“FUCK!”

Brooke knew no one could hear him, but he yelled anyway, Vanjie’s giant iPhone X clutched in his grip. Brooke pressed the phone, the screen lighting up and he could see his 37 missed calls, his phone bill without a doubt reaching astronomical heights. The background was a picture of them, Brooke holding Vanjie, both of them smiling brightly into the lens, Vanjie’s eyes sparkling with love.

“Shit Jose…”

He had rushed as soon as he could, but they had held him back. Brooke’s hand was throbbing, the bar staff refusing to let him leave until a paramedic had looked at him. He had wanted to protest, had wanted to run after his boyfriend right away, but the staff did have a point, so he had to put on his best behavior, grin and bear it as pieces of glass was fished out of his skin, his left hand ruined. It didn’t help one bit to have Justin there, pelting him with questions about his “psycho” boyfriend.

“Where are you?”

/

“You think you can talk to me like that?! Well I’ll let you meet my real good friends! They’re called Lefty and Righty and you bet they’ll be remodeling your fucking face you son of a cocksucker!”

Getting the door unlocked with a cursing and squrming Vanjie over her shoulder, the Latino wiggling like a fish, was a challenge, but Nina had never been anything but resourceful. Vanjie’s bark was a lot bigger than her bite, and Nina could feel the other queen growing heavier and heavier. A sigh of pure relief left her as she managed to get inside, Nina kicking the door shut behind her before she dumped Vanjie down on the bed, the other queen growing completely quiet, a mix of shock and disbelief on Vanjie’s face.

“So. That was intense.”

They stared at each other, Nina’s blue eyes meeting Vanjie’s brown, neither saying anything. Vanjie tried to get up, but Nina pushed her right back down, a firm hand on her shoulder pushing her back onto the bed.

“What the fuck-”

Vanjie made another attempt, but the same thing happened again, Nina’s palm pushing Vanjie down.

“Take a seat.”

“You’re not the boss of me.”

“I’m not.” The whole thing played out once more, Nina using both hands this time. “But you really need to calm down.”

Having both of Nina’s hands on her shoulders was surprisingly comforting, the heavy weight of Nina’s palms centering and grounding in a way Vanjie hadn’t expected. Her breath was calming down, her heart beat returning to normal. The room was surprisingly cozy and somehow quintessentially Nina, even though it was a hotel room. There were extra pillows on the bed, all of Nina’s stuff neatly unpacked and put away, something neither Vanjie nor Brooke ever bothered to do since they were always on the go, but here, the room almost felt lived in. The ketchup stain on Nina’s shirt caught Vanjie’s attention, the red mark almost making it look like Pooh had been beheaded, the entire thing actually very morbid if you thought about it.

“Feeling better?”

“… No.”

The word caught in Vanjie’s throat, her voice as shaky as she suddenly realised how she felt. It had been sneaking up on her, hiding just under the surface, but Vanjie had pushed it down and then pushed it down even deeper, pouring gallons and gallons of rage on top of it. She wasn’t angry, had never been if she was honest. Instead, she was sad, the sadness so deep it felt embedded in her bones, the hurt from what had happened so sharp she could cut herself on it. Tears welled up in Vanjie’s eyes, Nina’s presence making it impossible to hide.

“I think you should take a shower, get out of drag. Then, if you want, we can talk after.” Nina’s voice was infinitely soft, the wrinkles around her eyes reminding Vanjie of those on her mother’s otherwise youthful face. “What do you say to that?”

“Okay.”

/

“Hey, anyone in there?!”

Brooke was knocking on the fourth door of the night. Both Silky and A’keria had been a bust, so he had started working his way from left to right. Raja had responded right away but she hadn’t left her room all night and was high on top of it, so Brooke had left the moment he had gotten the chance.

“Kameron!”

Brooke sighed, giving it one last knock before he walked to the next. Brooke wasn’t much of a detective, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that Vanjie was still in drag, their room way too clean for Vanjie to have de-dragged, not a single trace of anyone entering in there except for the bag that looked like it had been thrown. The thought was the only thing that kept Brooke sane, panic bubbling under his skin. If Vanjie was still in drag, it meant she still had to be on their floor. There was no way Vanjie would ever risk a fan seeing her this upset. She cared about her image and her fans way too much, her love for them so genuine Brooke was almost surprised by it at times, Vanjie never leaving a meet and greet or a performance until she was sure everyone had gotten what they came for, even if she was tired to the very bone.

Brooke moved to the next door, his fist almost connecting with the wood, when it was pulled open, Ariel standing right in front of him, looking more pissed than Brooke could ever remember seeing her before.

“What?!”

Brooke knew he should probably ask, inquire as to why his sister and friend appeared to be having a terrible night, but he couldn’t concentrate on anything but one all-important question. Not with his own personal night of hell taking place.

“Have you seen Jose?”

Ariel crossed his arms. “Why?”

“I have to talk to him.”

Ariel looked at him, and Brooke felt like he was being scrutinised, Ariel staring as if she was unveiling his soul, taking a peek at his innermost self.

“She left with Nina.” Ariel sighed, standing up. “I think they’re in her room.”

Brooke hugged Ariel, the other queen losing her breath as Brooke almost crushed every bone in her body.

“Thank you.” Brooke smiled. “Thank you thank you thank you.”

Brooke released Ariel, taking off in a run, the only thing on his brain one simple sentence.

/I’m coming baby./

/

Nina had the opening scene of Lilo and Stitch playing, the movie one of Nina’s favorites, when Vanjie returned from the shower. Nina had just thrown the first and the best from his dresser at Vanjie, which had turned out to be a Minnie Mouse shirt. Vanjie looked like a child, the fabric reaching his knees, his arms tucked behind his back, even his expression matching the outfit since Vanjie looked like a ten-year-old boy that knew he was in trouble.

Nina held a plate forward, presenting Vanjie with the pizza she’d ordered while Vanjie was showering.

“No burger?” he asked, approaching the bed like an animal with its guard up.

“Lost my lust for it,” Nina didn’t mention how she had dropped it in the hallway when she was trying to keep Vanjie from knocking out Ariel’s fake teeth, not thinking it appropriate for the situation she was trying to defuse. “Want a slice?”

“Mmh,” Vanjie hummed, grabbing a slice and sitting tentatively on the edge of the bed.

It was rather strange. One minute Nina had seen Vanjie out in the hall, about to tear down any and all walls around him, and the next Vanjie was a wounded baby bird in a severely oversized shirt and pyjama shorts that barely stayed up, seemingly afraid of her. Nina gulped down the last bite of her slice, licking her fingers.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Vanjie asked, his voice is infinitely small. Although confused, Nina could feel her heart ache. If Vanjie was here, with her, instead of being with Brooke, something had to be seriously seriously wrong.

“Are you undeserving of someone being nice to you?”

“Right now I am, that’s for fucking sure.” Vanjie half scoffed, half laughed. “When Brock finds my ass, it’ll be even worse. It’s a real fucking tragedy, that’s what it is. Like some greek irony bullshit.”

“You’re hiding from Brooke?” Nina had noticed that she hasn’t seen Vanjie use her phone. The electronic device usually never more than inches away from Vanjie’s hand.

“Why else would I be breaking into Ariel’s room? Just to hang out?” Vanjie laughed, short and crude. “Ain’t nothing good in her room but her collection of highlighters. That shit is intense.”

Nina smiled. “Here.” She had once said on her podcast that dating Vanjie would never be boring, and she hadn’t been proven wrong yet.  “Have some more water.”

Vajie took the bottle, tentatively taking a sip. “I ain’t ready to see his face and hear his mouth tell me how I done fucked up.” Vanjie looked at the pizza, taking another slice with a deep sign. “At least I won’t have to lie about being okay with pineapple on pizza if he breaks up with me.”

Nina wants to be surprised, she really does. But most of all, she’s just confused. “Brooke adores the ground you walk on.”

“Sure bitch.”

“He doe-” A knock on the door interrupts them both, Nina holding her breath as she realised that it had to be Brooke, but Vanjie simply looked at her, almost challenging her to prove that she was right.

/

“.. Are you bleeding?”

Brooke looked at his hand, Nina’s concern so genuine he was surprised for a minute. The white bandage was indeed turning red, his excessive knocking cause the wounds to bleed. Brooke honestly couldn’t find it in himself to care.  “Only a little.”

Nina had opened the door after two knocks, Brooke’s stomach falling in disappointment when he hadn’t come face to face with Vanjie. Nina looked almost strange, the expression on her face one Brooke couldn’t remember he had ever seen before.

Brooke’s skin was itching to know how his boyfriend was doing. He couldn’t hear any noise from the room besides the TV, no obvious signs of a battle meeting his eyes from what he could see behind Nina. No knocked over lamps or coffee machines, no cracked TV screens or broken chairs. It was quiet. Suspiciously quiet.

“Is he still mad?”

Brooke was used to Vanjie’s moods, his partner’s ADHD showing up so differently from Brooke’s own. Vanjie often exploded in fireworks that fizzled away as quickly as they appeared. He felt everything, his feelings magnified and sometimes to the extreme, but sorrow and happiness shining so bright that it was sometimes all consuming.

It wasn’t unusual for Vanjie to go off in fits of rage if he was even slightly provoked, their washing machine at home already replaced once after Vanjie had kicked it for changing the color of his favorite hoodie, not recognizing his own fault until after the machine had broken. The whole thing at the bar had been just as explosive, Vanjie firing off and Brooke’s brain had honestly shut down, the entire thing happening so fast he had barely had time to react, everything afterwards a desperate chase to find Vanjie and make sure he was okay.

“Come check for yourself.”

Nina stepped aside, and Brooke walked in, his heart clenching in relief when he saw him on the bed. Nina had obviously gotten to him, all traces of Vanjie washed off as Jose sat on the bed, hair still wet, in an oversized Minnie Mouse shirt and a half eaten pizza between them.

“Love the new look.”

Brooke watched Vanjie’s face, hoping his joke, however bad, would lighten the mood a little. Nina snorted in the background, and Brooke could just imaging the wry smile on her face.

“So.. That whole thing was..” Brooke ran a hand through his hair. He felt incredibly awkward, Vanjie’s brown eyes watching him like a hawk. Brooke had never been one to investigate after fights, had never cared about anyone enough to make up after a fight. “It was kinda crazy, huh?”

“You don’t seem mad.”

“You lost it. It’s okay.”

Vanjie bit his lip, his eyes finding the number that was still written on Brooke’s arm.

“I know how it looks.” Brooke sighed, pulling down on his sleeve, his injured hand aching. “But I promise nothing happened.”

“It looked like something happened.”

“He lives in New Jersey, and I’m in New York in November. We both wanted to watch Balanchine-”

“Bless you.”

Brooke rolled his eyes. “I didn’t sneeze, it’s a ballet. They’re doing La Sou-”

“I know you didn’t sneeze, I’m not fucking stupid.”

“Well you’re acting like it.”

Brooke realised instantly that he had said the wrong thing, his drunken brain getting the best of him, Vanjie shooting up like a lightning bolt.

“What did you just call me?!”

Brooke looked up. He had to, since Vanjie was standing on the bed, the tiny Puerto Rican taller than himself for once, Nina gasping in the background, and Brooke knew he had to act fast.

“We both know you overreacted.” Brooke reached out for the first time, trying to grab Vanjie’s hips to steady his clearly still angry and tipsy boyfriend. “Jose, can we please just call it a night? Please?”

“Overreacted? Overreacted!” Vanjie shoved Brooke’s hands away, his voice growing even louder. “How ‘bout you look real fucking close, cause you ‘bout to win an Oscar for underreacting! I might have thrown a drink and I might be fucking stupid, but at least I ain’t no fucking eyefucker!

Brooke groaned, his own rage growing. He knew he should be sensible, that he should pull back towards sanity, but he just couldn’t help it. Tequila was one powerful foe. “I haven’t eyefucked anyone!”

“Don’t you lie, I was there when y’all was talking about that fucking book!”

“My hand was /literally/ in your shirt!” Brooke wanted to tear out his hair, his frustration so rich he had completely forgotten Nina was even in the room. “I introduced you as my boyfriend. What more do you want?!”

“For you to realise what that word means and be fucking loyal!”

“Everyone knows I belong to you!” Brooke grapped Vanjie’s shirt, his fist cluthing the fabric, his voice low with venom as he spat. “Should I wear a fucking collar? Would that make you happy?”

Brooke pulled at Vanjie, their faces so close Brooke could feel each breath “Property of Jose Cancel, or is that not recognisable enough for you? Should it be Vanessa Vanjie fucking Mateo instead?!”

It briefly crossed Brooke’s mind that this wasn’t right, that this wasn’t how all those relationship courses on youtube had taught him to deal with an argument, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

If you asked, Brooke wouldn’t be able to tell who moved first, but suddenly they were kissing, Vanjie’s hands in Brooke’s hair, teeth, lips, tongues all crashing together in a thunder of emotion, rage and lust, a battle for dominance that screamed to the sky, neither of them even noticing the door slamming behind them, Nina making a run for it at the first chance she got.

[sunshinejins]

perfect.

this is a gratuitous tyrus first dance fic that absolutely did NOT need to be written but i wrote it anyway because like three people on here said they’d read it and that was good enough for me.  not canon compliant because i like to ignore canon when given liberty to do so.

that being said, this is a tyrus fic with a little muffy but mainly tyrus because i’m trash for this ship.  reblogs are encouraged and any comments are well appreciated!  hope you enjoy!

The last time Cyrus Goodman went to a school dance was when he was thirteen years old.  He had appreciated the tacky streamers and the DJ who only seemed to play Katy Perry songs.  He had bought overpriced red punch from the concession stand that tasted mostly like water and shared Buffy’s extra large bag of sour gummy worms.  He also watched as Jonah Beck and Andi danced in an awkward circle for the two slow dances of the evening, arms stiffly placed on each other’s waist and shoulders, keeping an appropriate distance between them.

Cyrus had never been so jealous in his life.

The last time Cyrus Goodman went to a school dance was when he was thirteen years old.  He had appreciated the tacky streamers and the DJ who only seemed to play Katy Perry songs.  He had bought overpriced red punch from the concession stand that tasted mostly like water and shared Buffy’s extra large bag of sour gummy worms.  He also watched as Jonah Beck and Andi danced in an awkward circle for the two slow dances of the evening, arms stiffly placed on each other’s waist and shoulders, keeping an appropriate distance between them.

Cyrus had never been so jealous in his life.

Buffy had noticed of course.  She always did.  She pestered him for the remaining thirty-seven minutes (yes, he counted) of the dance until he gave in and exposed his jealousy in a spew of metaphors that may have included a few dinosaur references and one too many puns about feeling green.  Only then did she go silent and say with great softness:

“It’s okay to be jealous of Jonah.  Why didn’t you just say you liked Andi?”

Three days later, over a basket of cooling baby taters and a half-drunk chocolate milkshake, Cyrus told Buffy about his knee-weakening crush on Jonah Beck.  It had been the only time to date where Buffy hadn’t been angry with someone for saying she was wrong about something.

That was two years ago.  Things were very different now.

For one, Cyrus’ crush on Jonah had disappeared the second he started looking at him like a person instead of Jonah Beck.  While he loved his friend with his entire heart, there was no way Cyrus could ever be romantically involved with someone who was convinced that it was alright to wear orange and green unironically in the same outfit.  His crush dissolved about as fast as sugar in tea, and Cyrus was convinced that they were both better off for it.

Then there was T.J.  The tall, blond, amazing basketball player that had stolen his heart just about the second they met.  Not that Cyrus had been aware of his feelings until one day at The Spoon when T.J had shyly asked if they were on a date.

(They were.  Neither of them knew.)

Thus, Cyrus had been happily over Jonah and happily not over T.J since the seventh grade.  Now he was a high schooler, and he was at another school dance.

This time there were no streamers, but huge shiny pink and red toned hearts plastered all over the walls of the Grant High School gym.  The DJ was no longer playing Katy Perry, but a strange combination of Macklemore and James Blunt.  The punch this time was pink, not red, and it tasted more like Sprite than anything else.  It was Valentine’s Day; Cyrus was having the time of his life.

Buffy and Marty were currently breaking it down on the dance floor, in a competition to see who could make up more dance moves.  Cyrus had a feeling Marty was losing, but by the look on his face as he watched Buffy’s curls bounce around her cheeks, he didn’t think Marty minded.  Andi and Jonah had arrived together, but Andi had quickly disappeared with Amber.  Cyrus was worried about Jonah for a second until he saw him in a corner with Gus watching Brooklyn Nine-Nine.

Cyrus was chilling at a table by the dance floor, draining a cup of pink punch and enjoying himself.  T.J had been pulled away by basketball buddies a few moments earlier, and Cyrus was relishing in the chance to take the weight off his feet.

“Miss me yet?” Cyrus jumped at the voice in his ear and turned with a wide smile to his boyfriend.  T.J was goofily smiling, hair mussed, and his red shirt slightly untucked from his dark jeans.  Cyrus’ heart warmed.

“You were barely gone for two minutes!  I had no time to miss you,” he said as T.J pulled out the chair beside him and sat down.  His fake wounded expression made Cyrus want to giggle.

“I’ve missed you when you were gone for two minutes!  Remember that time you left our movie night for ages?”

“I had to go to the bathroom!” T.J laughed and threw an arm around Cyrus’ shoulders.  Cyrus snuggled into his grasp with a smile.  They were never very “out” at school.  Kids were unfortunately still mean and while T.J swore no one actually stuffed people in lockers in real life, Cyrus lived in eternal fear.  Here, however, the lights were low, and everyone was too busy having fun to really care about the boyfriends cuddling at the back of the room.  Cyrus was about to suggest that they go grab some more punch, (it was surprisingly addictive,) when Buffy appeared from nowhere dragging Andi and Marty with her.

“Get up dorks!  We’re dancing!” Cyrus couldn’t argue with that, and neither could T.J apparently as he laughed and pulled Cyrus up with a tug of his hand.

“C’mon, Underdog!” Cyrus laughed and let himself be lead to the dance floor.  He was made to party after all.

They danced for what felt like ages, Jonah eventually joining them and Amber as well.  Cyrus was almost dizzy from how fast the DJ cycled through songs.  He made up a new move, the “wonky penguin” and received multiple high fives from Marty after its execution.  T.J stayed by his side, dancing albeit a bit stiffly, but still grooving to the music like the rest of them.  Cyrus would have guessed they’d been dancing for around half an hour when the strobe lights dimmed and a soft red light poured out of the spotlights instead.

“This one’s for all the couples out there, grab your special someone and hit the floor,” the DJ said.  Ed Sheeran’s “Perfect” began to play and as he normally would, Cyrus began to back off the floor.  A hand on his waist stopped him, and before he could really think about it, T.J was pulling him into his arms and slipping his fingers between Cyrus’.  

The music played with a certain grace behind them as T.J turned them in a slow circle around their little section of the floor.  Cyrus’ mouth hung open.

“How do you know how to dance?” Cyrus looked as T.J expertly guided his feet in a way that definitely hinted at prior knowledge.  If the lights hadn’t been red, Cyrus would have sworn he could see T.J blush.

“My mom always told me the best way to impress a girl was to know how to dance,” they both chuckled at that as T.J dipped Cyrus a little, “when I came out to her she said her gender may have been wrong but the notion still stood.”

Cyrus was in awe.  They had been together for exactly one year and ten months, and he still kept learning new things about T.J.  That had been one thing he was afraid of when they began dating.  What if dating one of your best friends meant you would eventually not have any things left to learn?  The simple act of T.J pulling him in closer so his arms could rest more comfortably on his shoulders proved him wrong.  There would always be new stuff to know.

Cyrus must have been deep in thought because T.J suddenly laughed and tapped his nose with a finger.

“What are you thinking about, Cyrus?” His eyes were warmed as he asked.  Cyrus gave a small, one-shouldered shrug.

“Just things that are meant to be.”  

T.J rolled his eyes lovingly at that and continued to turn them in a cozy circle until the song ended and their friends were back jumping up and down to a new Selena Gomez song.  Cyrus tangled his fingers with T.J’s as they watched Jonah do the Macarena to the beat of the music.  T.J pressed his lips quickly to Cyrus’, tasting a little of Sprite and popcorn, and Cyrus grinned into the kiss.

This dance had gone way better than the first.