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kookooluvr · 16 days ago

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Teach Me How To Love - Part 3

pairing: professor!jungkook x (fem) professor!reader, fwb to lovers

genre: fluff, angst, smut, fwb au, economicsprofessor!jungkook, politicalscienceprofessor!reader, slow burn, some emotional constipation, some sappy moments, lots of sexy moments.

summary: jeon jungkook, a fellow professor at yonsei university, is your friend, co-worker, and secret bed buddy. you have rules set in place to make sure there are no misunderstandings in your little arrangement. the #1 rule is as clear as day; no catching feelings. simple, right? wrong. let's see how un-simple it gets when a certain economics professor falls for an emotionally unavailable political science professor.

rating: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

word count: 6.7k

warnings: we get to know the besties a bit, jihyo and tae being our cutesie side characters <3 oc and jk both spill the beans to their friends,mentions of the infamous ex (booo, throwing tomatoes), oc buys and wears lingerie for jk, she sends him a photo in said lingerie, explicit sexual content; making out, oral sex (f. receiving), unprotected sex, missionary, squirting, soft dom jk, multiple orgasms, jk learns something new about oc, jk's in his feelings, my poor baby, jk's also a teeny tiny bit of a stalker...but in a sweet way if that makes any sense :)

author's note: part 3 took longer than i would've liked bc my procrastination was kicking my ass. anyway, pls enjoy !!! things will start being a bit more eventful from part 4 onwards so bear with me 🤪🫶🏼 as usual, make sure to like, reblog and pleeeaaase share all your thoughts and feelings about these kiddos <3

taglist: @rpwprpwprpwprw @mimi1097 @livinluvl @bumblebee-21s-blog @koosluvss @sou-17 @puppybunnyjkay @svnbangtansworld @junecat18 @shrek-the-destroyer @tastykookoonut @sturniolowrld @palomanazareth

find tmhtl masterlist here

It's been a week since Jungkook came over. You spoke here and there in passing but you haven't had a chance to actually hang out again after that night because you're both just too busy prepping for final exams before the long awaited summer break. This time of year is always a bit crazy for both the students and the educators, which leaves you with almost no time to mess around with cute economics professors.

You've been a bit stressed out all week, so you really weren't planning on spending your Saturday in a busy mall, looking through racks of lingerie, and yet that's exactly what you're doing. Why? Because Jihyo texted you saying she needed your help in buying something sexy to wear on an upcoming date she has with some guy she met at work. His name's Mark and from what she's told you about him, he sounds...promising.

Jihyo, unlike you, is looking for a boyfriend. Boy, is she looking. She's gone on about seven dates with five different men in the past couple of months and she is yet to find her Mr. Right. From what she's told you, she's looking for someone educated, tall, handsome, funny, and someone who can "match her freak". The closest she got to that was some guy she met at a club two months ago, who was lucky enough to get three whole dates before he eventually gave her the ick by referring to his mother as 'mommy'. For her own sanity, you hope Mark won't make that same mistake.

However, Jihyo's mind isn't on Mark right now. Oh no, she's much more focused on the man you're seeing.

"___, come on. We've been best friends since the fifth grade. Are you really going to look me in my eye and tell me you're not seeing anyone? And don't lie to me."

You roll your eyes, scanning the rack of pink satin and red lace, feeling the different fabrics between your fingers. One minute, you were asking her about Mark and how they met, and the next thing you know, you're being interrogated in the middle of a lingerie store.

"I'm not looking you in your eye. I'm looking at lingerie. Ooh, this is pretty."

Jihyo loves you, really, she does. You've known each other for most of your lives. That means she supports you in everything you do. That also means she can see right through your bullshit when no one else can. She's been suspicious of you and your apparent mystery man for a while now, and she won't stop asking you about him until she gets answers.

"I'm serious. I know you're seeing someone. You're not slick, babe. I know you inside and out, and I have really good intuition...and I might have seen a text I shouldn't have when your phone was on the table at the restaurant during lunch."

Dammit.

"I don't know what you're talking about." You feign ignorance, refusing to spill the beans even after practically getting caught. You and Jungkook both swore to keep it between the two of you. It's one of the rules. Who knows what will happen if you just start breaking rules all willy-nilly. Sure, it's not that big of a deal if you tell one friend, especially your best friend, but that's how it starts. You're breaking this rule, and then another and another until you're Robin Thicke and the lines are blurred.

"Cut the shit," Jihyo says dryly, crossing her arms over her chest, clearly unwilling to drop the subject. "Who is this mysterious 'prof jeon' and why was he asking you when you're free to see him?"

You let out a defeated sigh, looking over at her. You know that look on her face. She's just going to keep asking if you don't tell her and it's pointless lying about it. She can be a pain in your ass at times but she's definitely not stupid. And besides, she's your best friend. You'd be a bad best friend for not telling her that you're basically getting the best sex of your life, right?

Screw it.

"Okay, I'm not even supposed to tell anyone about it and it's really not a big deal but...I'm kinda sleeping with one of the other professors at work." You quickly press your lips together as soon as the words leave your mouth, looking back at the lingerie to avoid her eyes and all the questions you know you're about to be bombarded with in a second.

"What?!"

"Can you keep your voice down?" you whisper-yell, noticing a few people turning their heads to see what the sudden outburst was about.

"Sorry," she mutters with a snort, clearly not expecting that news. "Who is this professor? What's his name? Jeon who? Why didn't I know about this sooner? Since when have you-"

You cut her off before she can get the rest of her questions out.

"His name is Jungkook, he teaches economics, and before you ask, no, he's not my boyfriend or anything like that. I'm still not ready for that. We met a few months after I transferred to work at the university and we were just work-friends for the most part, but then we hooked up one night last year and it wasn't really supposed to happen again because we were a bit drunk but it was so good, and then it happened two more times and then...well, then we just agreed to keep having casual sex. That's it."

Jihyo is quiet for a moment, processing the information that was just thrown at her. How have you been sleeping with this man for a year and she had no idea? She's actually quite impressed that you could keep it a secret for that long.

"Wow."

"That's it? That's all you're gonna say?" you chuckle, turning around to look at her with a light blue lacey set in your hands.

"I just...I'm happy for you. I'm glad you're putting yourself out there again after Sunghoon. I really thought you were going to swear off men for the rest of your life after him."

And there it is. The reminder of the man you spent most of your teenage and early adulthood loving, the man who you thought you would grow old with, the bane of your existence. If it's not your friends or your mother reminding you of him, it's your own brain. You don't blame her for bringing him up, though. He is the main reason why you're so opposed to actually committing yourself to someone again.

"Yeah, well...it's not like Jungkook and I are dating or anything. It's just sex. No big deal," you mutter, not wanting to go down that road right now.

Jihyo knows your love life (or lack thereof) is a bit of a sensitive subject for you. She was there for you when Sunghoon broke your heart. She let you stay over at her apartment when you were too sad to be alone. She sat with you as you cried on her bathroom floor, so this is a big deal to her. This means that you don't spend your nights crying over that human shit stain anymore, and she doesn't blame you for keeping it private. All she really wants is for you to be happy.

"Still. It's progress, babe."

"Yeah, I guess it is."

"So, uhh... how is he?" She grins, gesturing to her genital area, wanting all the long, girthy, veiny details. She can't help but be a little nosey. Besides, what's the point of having a best friend of almost two decades if you can't ask her about the juicy details of her sex life.

"I'm not telling you that, you pervert," you laugh, holding the lacey lingerie out for her to take. She takes it without even looking at it, her focus solely on you and your professor friend.

"You have to tell me. Okay fine, just give me a number from one to ten then... Looks?"

You sigh but decide to indulge her anyway. "Ten."

"You lucky bitch," she scoffs, looking very impressed. "Skills in the bedroom?"

"Nine point five."

"And you're exclusively hooking up, right?"

You nod.

"Okay, ___, please explain to me why we're in a lingerie store and you're not buying something to make this man drool over you," Jihyo deadpans, looking at you like you're insane.

"Don't be ridiculous, we're not here for me. We're here for you and your date."

"And we're not leaving until we both get something." She starts looking through the racks with more determination. "You said Professor Sexyboots is a ten. You have to wear something sexy for him. At least for my sake."

"Professor Sexyboots? I'm sure he'd love that," you scoff, rolling your eyes at her ridiculous nickname for him.

Jihyo is about to respond when she looks up at something and freezes, her eyes widening, causing you to turn your head to follow her line of sight, your eyebrows raising. On one of the mannequins sits a stunning deep-red bra and matching thong, looking like something straight off a Victoria's Secret runway. It's gorgeous, with intricate lace detailing, and it's completely out of your comfort zone.

"No way, I can't."

"What are you talking about?! You'd look so hot. C'mon, it would be so fun. You could send him a little sneak peek and invite him over and he can take it off with his teeth," she snickers, having way too much fun with this whole thing.

You're not sure how exactly you let Jihyo convince you to buy the skimpy lingerie, but you did, which is why you're sitting in a rather suggestive pose in front of your floor-length mirror in your bedroom. It's silly to feel nervous about sending him a naughty photo. He's seen you naked more times in this past year than you can count, and yet this makes you nervous.

You take the photo and press send before quickly tossing your phone on the bed, letting out a deep sigh.

Jungkook is in the middle of watching some random show on Natural Geographic when he gets your text. He unlocks his phone and all the air gets knocked out of his lungs when his eyes land on the photo of you wrapped in the delicate dark red lace, muttering a breathless, "Sweet baby Jesus".

His fingers shake as he types out a reply, his heart hammering in his chest.

prof jeon [9:46pm]: i've never really been a very religious man prof jeon [9:46pm]: but damn, god is good 😳

You [9:47pm]: LMAO You [9:47pm]: come over

prof jeon [9:48pm]: aye-aye captain 🫡

He rushes to his room to get a hoodie, quickly putting it on while getting a confused look from a half-asleep Bam. He walks over to give the sleepy dog a quick kiss on his forehead and some scratches before getting his car keys, his body working faster than his brain. “Bam, daddy’s gotta go take care of aunty ___, okay? I’ll be back later.” And with that, he’s out the door.

He makes his way downstairs to the parking lot and gets in his car, fumbling with the car keys in a rush to get to your apartment. He knows he probably looks like a teenage virgin right now, but he doesn't care. You always manage to make his midsection tingle and his brain feel all scattered. When he finally manages to get the car started, it takes everything in him to stay within the speed limit as he drives over to you.

You're about to text him to ask how far he is from your apartment, when there's a knock at the front door. You wrap a robe around your body and go to answer the door, seeing a breathless Jungkook leaning his arm up against the wall in the hallway.

"Good evening, Professor," he grins, straightening up to walk inside, eyeing you from head to toe as you close the door behind him. Before you can get a chance to respond, his lips are on yours, his hands cradling your jaw as he kisses you, completely taking you by surprise.

You pull away to look up at him with wide eyes, letting out a little chuckle. "So just straight to the point? No small talk, nothing?"

"Is that what you want?" he asks, looking down at your robe-clad body. "Small talk? Want me to ask you how your day was before I spread your legs?"

"Not really, no."

"Yeah, I didn't think so," he mutters before his lips are back on yours. He picks you up by the back of your thighs in one swift motion, your arms wrapped around his neck as he carries you to your bedroom, eager to get that damn robe off.

He gets to the bedroom and gently lays you down on your back before hurriedly removing his glasses, pulling his hoodie over his head, his t-shirt following quickly behind. He leans down to hover over you, his lips kissing from your neck up to your lips, sensually licking into your mouth to taste more of you while his fingers trail up your thigh under the robe.

He pulls back to look down at you with heavy-lidded eyes, his fingers slowly opening your robe. "Can I take this off?"

You nod and your robe is off within seconds, leaving you in nothing but the skimpy lingerie. His throat goes completely dry. "Fuck. You're trying to give me an asthma attack."

"You don't have asthma," you laugh, rolling your eyes.

"The point is that you're fucking hot, ___."

You scoff and pull him back down to crash your lips onto his, his tongue slipping into your mouth with ease. Your hands lightly travel up his biceps and shoulders, the sensation sending shivers down his spine. You slide your fingers through his hair and give it a little tug, pulling a soft moan from his lips. He loves when you play with his hair, and he especially loves when you tug on it, whether it's while he's kissing you or eating you out.

You pull away slightly to press a few light pecks to his lips, his stomach erupting with butterflies. "You're so good at that," he mutters, gently tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth.

"At what, kissing?"

"Mm," he hums with a lazy little grin on his face. "Might need you to demonstrate again, just to make sure."

You laugh, placing another kiss to his lips, lingering there for a bit before pulling away.

"Mm, one more," he whispers before his mouth is back on yours, his tongue tangling with yours as the kiss grows more heated.

He reluctantly breaks away from your mouth, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses on your skin.

He nips at your pulse point, his teeth leaving a little red spot on your flesh.

"Jungkook, I'm going to kill you if there's a mark," you mutter, but the huff of laughter he lets out tells you he doesn't care.

"You'll be fine," he chuckles, his voice hoarse with desire, his tongue tracing the mark he left behind. He leans on one hand while the other slowly trails up the side of your ribs, making its way to the back of your bra.

"This is so pretty," he whispers, giving your earlobe a little tug with his teeth. "Can I take it off yet?"

"Mhm," you nod, slightly arching your back off the bed to let him unclasp the bra. He slowly slides the fabric off your body and tosses it aside, kissing his way down to your breasts. He licks and sucks on each of your nipples before trailing slow, soft kisses down your stomach.

"Lift your hips for me, baby." You do as he says, his fingers hooking into the sides of the tiny lace thong, slowly pulling the fabric down your legs.

You spread your legs for him, showing him your glistening folds. The sight alone makes his sweatpants feel tighter. He kneels down at the edge of the bed, spreading your legs further apart. He kisses his way up your leg from your calf to your inner thigh, holding your ankle over his broad shoulder.

His lips inch even closer to your pussy, just a few centimeters from where you need him most. "Jungkook," you whine, your arousal growing by the second.

He chuckles teasingly, stopping at your inner thigh. "You're so whiny."

"Don't tease, Kook."

He grins, hovering his mouth over your pussy, his breath fanning over your folds. "Love seeing you all worked up for me," he murmurs, slowly licking his lips before pressing a feather-like kiss to your mound.

"Just shut up and eat me out."

"Yes, ma'am."

He starts slow with wet little kisses and licks to your clit, slowly building up a steady pace. He loves eating you out. He could go for hours if you let him, like a starved man getting a taste of his favourite food. Jungkook's always been more of a giver than a taker, your pleasure bringing him pleasure.

He's incredibly skilled with his tongue, knowing exactly what to do to have your legs trembling. He swirls and flicks his tongue, sucking and lapping at your clit to make your eyes roll back in your head.

"Fuck, Jungkook...feels so good," you sigh, your eyes fluttering shut.

He smiles against your pussy, feeling proud of every little sigh and moan he pulls from your lips. "You taste so good," he mutters before diving back in, licking a long stripe from your leaking entrance to your clit, his hands gripping your thighs to keep them open.

"Just like that...oh my god, don't stop..."

He looks up at you with a dazed look in his eyes, his tongue lapping at you with skilled precision that makes your toes curl, your fingers gripping the sheets beneath you.

"F-fuck, 'm gonna cum," you gasp, grabbing onto his hair to hold him in place, your eyes squeezing shut, your head spinning as the pleasure reaches a peak.

A few more sucks and flicks of his tongue and you're cumming, his hands holding you in place as he laps at your pussy, helping you ride out your high. He feels your thighs quivering, looking quite proud of himself. "You taste so fucking good," he murmurs, pressing a few soft kisses to your clit.

"Holy shit." You're breathless, your pussy pulsating, your heart racing.

He crawls up to hover over you, giving your lips a quick peck, his lips and chin glistening. "Still with me?"

"Mhmm," you grin, slowly opening your eyes to look up at him.

He smiles down at you, taking in your flushed cheeks, your disheveled hair, your pretty eyes. He gently brushes some of your hair out of your face, his thumb lightly stroking your cheek. "You're beautiful, ___," he whispers, his voice laced with tenderness.

"Don't say that."

He furrows his brows in confusion, puzzled by your reaction. "Why not? It's the truth."

"Tell me I'm sexy...not beautiful."

He chuckles, slowly shaking his head, his expression filled with amusement and affection. "You're gorgeous," he whispers, lightly kissing your cheek, his lips trailing over to your ear. "And incredibly sexy."

"You gonna fuck me now?" You tease, your lips curling into a soft smile.

He almost laughs at your bluntness, the way you just get straight to the point, never wasting any time if you want something. Your assertiveness has always been a turn-on for him, not just in the bedroom, but in general.

"That's the plan, yeah."

"Let's get this show on the road then."

He gets up off you and removes his sweatpants and boxers, letting it lay somewhere on your bedroom floor. He's already hard, his cock standing tall, the tip already leaking a bit. He stands at the end of your bed, his hand wrapped around the base, his eyes glued between your legs, slowly trailing up to your face.

He crawls back on top of you, sliding his fingers through your folds, gathering some of your slick and rubbing it over the head of his cock. "Ready, baby?"

You give him a nod and he slowly pushes into you, his hips gently moving forward. "Shit, you feel good," he groans, his voice coming out low and hoarse.

You sharply inhale through your nose, feeling that familiar stretch, your walls molding to the shape of him like it was made for him.

He thrusts slowly, bracing his forearms on either side of your head, his forehead resting against yours. His thrusts get deeper until he bottoms out, his breathing growing heavier, his moans going straight to your core. He buries his face in your neck, feeling your hands gripping the muscles in his back as he thrusts harder.

Your moans grow louder as he thrusts into you, your walls fluttering around him, your legs wrapping around his waist. "Fuck, that feels so good."

"Yeah? You like that, baby?" he grins, pressing wet kisses to your neck and chest.

You've never had a man make you feel the way Jungkook does. He knows exactly how to touch you, how to kiss you, how to have you like putty in his hands. Your skin heats up, your heart pounding faster as he picks up the pace, hitting that spot deep inside you that makes your back arch off the bed.

"Mmm, f-fuck...harder...h-harder, baby," you moan, feeling him lift one of your legs over his shoulder, the tip of his cock repeatedly hitting that sweet spot inside you, the new angle allowing him to thrust even deeper.

"Like that?" He grunts, sitting back on his knees, his thrusts hitting harder, his pace getting faster.

"Oh my god, right there...feels s-so good, Kook."

"Wanna cum again?"

You can barely form a coherent sentence anymore. Your moans mixed with the sound of his skin slapping against yours fills your bedroom, his thrusts making your pussy squelch.

"Use your words, baby."

"Wanna...wanna cum," you whine, feeling him hold your leg next to his head and press wet kisses to your ankle and calf, the pressure and pace of his thrusts feeling just right.

"Hold it." His voice is rough and demanding, a stark contrast to the gentle tone he usually uses with you outside of the bedroom, the sound sending a shiver down your spine.

He ignores your whines and pleas for him to let you cum, thrusting as deep as he can go, his free hand reaching down to push his thumb into your mouth. Your body works on autopilot, sucking on his thumb. You swirl your tongue around it like you would do to his cock, causing his hips to stutter before he regains his composure.

"Such a good girl for me. Gonna make you cum so hard, baby."

He pulls his thumb out of your mouth to rub firm circles over your clit, the pressure paired with his thrusts making your head spin. The pressure starts to build in your lower stomach, and it feels different, better than it usually does, your pussy clenching down harder around his cock.

"Feels...f-feels like I'm gonna...p-pee..."

He lets out a faint chuckle, his hips moving with determination. "You're not gonna pee, baby," he mutters, his tone sounding almost teasing.

"H-how do you know?"

"Trust me, baby, I know. You're not gonna pee." He can tell you're close, your body practically begging for release as he rubs your clit faster. He looks down to where your bodies connect, seeing how swollen and puffy your pussy looks, the sight making his cock twitch. "It's gonna feel so good, baby, I promise."

"Gonna...gonna cum-"

"I know, baby. Let go for me...let it all out."

You cum with a loud cry, your body convulsing beneath him, your vision going blank as the pleasure hits you. It feels relentless, like nothing you've ever felt before, and he's made you cum many times before.

"Fuck, that's my girl." His thrusts slow down but they don't stop, keeping his pace steady to help you through it. "That's it, baby...ride it out..."

Your body trembles as you come down from your high, barely able to register him pulling out. Your eyes are half open as you watch him stroke himself above you, his face contorting in pleasure, his abdomen tensing. He finishes with a guttural moan of your name, painting your stomach and breasts with warm strings of cum.

"Fuck. I think I just saw Jesus," he breathes out, his chest heaving as he gasps for air.

"Yeah? What did he tell you?" You chuckle breathlessly, still feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm.

"He said you squirted."

Your eyes almost bulge out of your head, looking down to find his lower stomach and pelvis drenched.

"Oh my god," you groan, your words muffled by your hands as you cover your face.

"Hey, don't be embarrassed. It was probably the sexiest thing I've ever seen," he murmurs with a faint chuckle, gently pulling your hands away from your face, forcing you to look at him, his face looking rather smug.

"You look very pleased with yourself."

"Can you blame me? I made you feel so good, you practically exploded all over me," he grins, looking down at the mess between your legs. "Ohh, she's so swollen now. She took a bit of a beating, huh?"

You let out bashful scoff, your cheeks heating up at his choice of words.

He quickly gets up to go and clean himself off in the bathroom, coming back to slip his boxers back on. He watches you slowly get up off the messy bed, your knees feeling weak as you clumsily walk off to the bathroom, needing a hot shower after that intense session. He sits on the edge of the bed, leaning back on his hands as he watches you stumble.

"Legs a little wobbly there?" he teases, unable to stop the amused smile from spreading across his face.

"Shut up," you mutter as you make your way to the bathroom, earning a little laugh from him.

While you're in the shower, he takes it upon himself to remove the dirty covers and sheets from your bed, looking for your lavender room-spray on your vanity. He knows you always spray it around the room after sex, and he knows you keep it on your vanity, but for some reason he can't find it there. What he does find, however, is a framed photo he's never seen before. You're in it, and it looks like it was taken on the day of your undergrad graduation ceremony. You're standing next to a younger-looking girl, whose face is quite similar to yours. She is just slightly taller with shorter hair. Jungkook doesn't know much, or rather anything, about your family, but he assumes the girl in the photo is your sister.

He picks up the frame and goes to sit down on the bed, inspecting it closely. He feels a bit guilty, like he's been caught red-handed for snooping when you come out the bathroom wrapped in your robe, your eyes landing on the frame in his hands.

"What're you doing?"

"Sorry," he murmurs, his eyes growing wide, feeling like a child that's been caught stealing. "I just...I was looking for your room spray...or mist, whatever it is, and... I, uhm, I don't know, I guess this just caught my eye. I've been here many times but I've never really looked around, y'know?"

You nod slowly, going to sit next to him at the edge of the bed.

"Is this...your sister?"

You look up at him, seeing the surprise on his face.

You and Jungkook have sex. You work at the same university. You're "work-friends" and that surprise on his face is a reminder of how little he truly knows about you, how little of yourself you actually share with him. He knows you have a cat, but he doesn't know you have a sister. He knows the way you take your coffee, but he doesn't know anything about your childhood. It's a stark contrast to how much you know about him. You know his favourite foods because he's very specific about where he gets his takeout from. You know his favourite brand of beer because he always has it stocked up in his fridge. You know all about his family dynamics because he speaks about them all the time, that his brother just had a baby, that her name is Mijoo. You know all of his hobbies and interests because you're quite observant and he's very open, never feeling the need to keep anything to himself. You're similar in some aspects of your personalities, and yet very different.

"Yeah, that's my sister, Yuna," you murmur softly, looking down at the photo with a tight-lipped smile.

He absorbs this new information, a mix of feelings swirling inside him. Part of him feels slightly hurt. Four years of knowing each other and a year of hooking up, and he's only just found out you have a sister. He's an open book, always sharing all these intimate details about himself with you, yet you keep so many parts of yourself hidden from him. He wonders if it's just in your nature or if you deliberately keep him at arm's length, preventing him from getting too close.

At the same time, a small spark of hope lights up within him. You're not completely shutting him down so that's good. Maybe this is a sign that you're actually opening up to him for once. It might seem minor, but he takes it as a huge step forward with you.

He has a million questions he wants to ask, but settles for, "What's she like?"

There's a beat of silence before you speak. "She's, uhm...she's three years younger than me, and she's probably the most extroverted person you'll ever meet, so we're...very different," you scoff, smiling fondly at the thought of your baby sister.

He listens intently as you talk about your sister. He wants nothing more than for you to let your guard down with him, and this is a start. It's small, but it's something.

"That must make for an interesting sibling dynamic, hm?"

"We actually get along great in spite of that. We grew up super close, so..." You speak softly, feeling a bit uncomfortable with showing even just a hint of vulnerability in front of him. "So, yeah. Now you know that about me."

"Yeah," he murmurs softly, his voice barely louder than a whisper. "Now I know."

You gently take the frame from his hands and walk over to your vanity, putting it back in its place. You pick up the lavender room spray and turn to him with a faint smile. "This what you were looking for?"

"There's the damn thing," he scoffs, the familiar scent filling his nose as you give the room a spritz. "Is that to get rid of the smell of me?"

You chuckle, but you don't deny it.

The room falls silent again, and he takes it as his cue to get out of your hair, seeing as it's already midnight and he doesn't want to push his luck.

"I should, uh...I should go. It's late and I don't wanna keep you out of your beauty sleep," he jokes, slowly getting up to put his clothes back on.

"I'll walk you out." He wishes, just once, that you would ask him to stay, but he knows you won't. He walks behind you, stopping at the front door. He so badly wants to reach out and take your face in his hands, to kiss your lips and ask you to let him spend the night with you, but when you open the door for him, he simply puts his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants and walks out into the hallway.

"Thanks for tonight," he mumbles, looking down at you with a soft look in his eyes. "It was fun."

"Yeah, it was," you smile, tilting your head to lean against the half-open door.

He just looks at you, not making a move to leave. He has so much he wants to say right now, but he swallows it down, just like he always does, not wanting to overstep.

"Well...goodnight."

"Night, Jungkook."

He takes a small step back, reluctantly turning to leave. "Goodnight, ___," he mumbles, looking back at you with a soft smile.

You chuckle, sensing his reluctance to leave. "Goodnight, Jungkook."

He turns and starts walking away, his feet feeling heavier with each step. Just as he's about to make a U-turn and walk back to you, he hears the soft click of your door shutting, the lock echoing in the empty hallway.

He sighs and walks over to the elevators, going down to his car. He mentally kicks himself for feeling so disappointed. He's always known that you keep yourself guarded, and he thought he could handle it, could play by your rules, could be content with a primarily physical relationship. He could before. But right now, sitting in his car in the silent parking lot, he's reminded of how weak he really is.

He leans his forehead forward against the steering wheel, the weight of his feelings sitting heavy in his chest, muttering a soft, "Fuck."

With a heavy sigh, he starts the car and drives home, his brain taunting him with the fact that romance isn't a possibility for you and him.

On Monday, Jungkook is back in work mode. He tries to squeeze in as many revision lectures as he can the closer it gets to final exams. It's around 3pm when he finally gets a breather, so he goes to his usual spot for lunch.

He sits in the empty lounge, like he does almost every day. Why this specific lounge? Because if he looks out the window, he has a perfect view of you sitting below, eating your lunch on your usual bench. Sometimes you're alone, sometimes you're with another lecturer, and on rare days you just have lunch in your office.

"There you are." He hears Taehyung's voice as he walks into the lounge, sitting down across from him with a huff. "You weren't answering your phone."

Jungkook doesn't respond, his eyes not wavering. He looks out the window with a dopey look on his face, watching you eat your gimbap. Taehyung follows his line of sight, catching on rather quickly.

"So... you taking an online course on how to be a stalker, or...?"

"What are you talking about?" He scoffs, looking over at Taehyung before his eyes inevitably drift back down to you.

"You're staring like a creep," Taehyung laughs, taking a bite of his sandwich. "Is she that professor I saw you talking to the other day?"

"Mm." Jungkook knows how nosey his best friend can be, and he knows exactly what's going on in that head of his.

Taehyung gives him a knowing smile. He doesn't even have to say much, already knowing it's only a matter of time before Jungkook spills.

"You have a thing for her, huh?"

Jungkook looks at him with wide eyes, feeling exposed without even confessing anything. "What? I didn't even say anythi-"

"Don't bother," Taehyung chuckles, "You're not very subtle, man. Your eyes give you away."

Jungkook feels his cheeks burn, knowing he's been caught. He hates how transparent he is, that his feelings are written all over his face. "Fine. But it's not a big deal."

Taehyung gives him a look that says, 'You sure about that?'

Jungkook looks at his friend, then down at his lap, twiddling his thumbs. There's a long silence before the word-vomit eventually spills out of him.

"We've been having sex for a year and it was just casual at first, well...it still is casual, and we set a few rules so that there's still boundaries between us, but then I started developing feelings and she's just so guarded, like, she won't open up to me and I know that if she finds out I have feelings for her, she'll pull away and it'll ruin everything," he rambles, the words tumbling out like he's been dying to tell someone. He knows it was supposed to stay between the two of you, but he trusts Taehyung implicitly and he knows his friend would never judge him or the situation.

Taehyung looks at him with raised eyebrows, listening to him ramble on about the whole situation, trying to wrap his head around it. He knows how much of a softie Jungkook is and he never thought he would ever hear him say he has a friend with benefits.

"Damn, dude...you look like you needed to get that off your chest."

"I guess I did, yeah," Jungkook murmurs with a little scoff.

"Okay, so, she explicitly told you she's not interested in you romantically?"

"Well, no, she didn't say it directly, but she doesn't have to," Jungkook sighs. "She's made it clear more than once that she's not looking for anything serious from me."

"Damn," Taehyung murmurs, his face full of sympathy. "Has she said why?"

Jungkook looks back out the window, looking down at you with a melancholy expression on his face. "I know it's something to do with her ex, but she won't tell me the full story, so I don't really know what happened. I know she's been hurt before and she's wary of it happening again. I know she's not ready for anything serious, and I respect that. It's just..."

"You thought it would be enough for you?" Taehyung asks softly, carefully.

"Yeah."

"But it's not?"

"Would it make me an awful, selfish person if I said it's not?"

"No," Taehyung says firmly, a soft smile forming on his face. "It would make you a human being with a soft heart and strong feelings."

Jungkook scoffs, feeling guilty for simply thinking of being with you in a romantic sense. He knows you've been through some hard things in the past, and all he wants is a chance to prove himself to you.

"Do you want to tell her how you feel about her?"

"I don't know," Jungkook mutters, a slight pout forming on his lips. "I keep going back and forth about it in my head. Part of me wants to tell her and lay all my cards out on the table for her...another part of me is scared of pushing her away even further."

Taehyung goes silent for a moment, chewing on his bottom lip in thought. "Is the sex good?"

Jungkook narrows his eyes at his friend. "You have the worst timing."

Taehyung chuckles, shrugging like he just couldn't help but ask.

Jungkook rolls his eyes but gives in, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, it's...it's really good. Probably the best sex I've ever had, if I'm being real."

"Wow," Taehyung scoffs, his eyes wide. "I'd say you should wife her but...y'know..."

Jungkook gives him a dirty look, once again getting a slap from reality, Taehyung subtly wincing at his friend's misfortune.

"Look, I want to say screw her and it's her loss because you're a fuckin’ catch...but I mean, I get that she's just being cautious because of whatever happened with her ex."

Jungkook sighs, nodding slowly.

"Yeah. I just wish I could prove to her that I would never hurt her, that I would respect her and treat her right." Jungkook mentally curses your ex for screwing things up for him. He just wants a fair shot with you. "She's such a beautiful woman and she doesn't even see it."

Taehyung nods, looking out at you through the window. "Yeah, she's very attractive."

"No, I mean, she's stunning, but...the way she speaks, the way she acts, the person she is...she's just so beautiful. I want her for so much more than her physical being," Jungkook murmurs softly, his heart yearning to show you just how lovely he thinks you are.

"Honestly, I think the best thing you can do for her is be her friend if that's all she needs for the time being and slowly try to bring down her walls little by little. And if that doesn't work, then I think you should keep your options open. I know this sucks, dude, but you have to think of yourself too. You can't try to mend her while breaking yourself."

Taehyung is a wise man, and Jungkook trusts his judgement. He teaches literature, for crying out loud. He reads Shakespeare for a living. He should be well versed in these things.

"Yeah," Jungkook nods, taking in Taehyung's advice. "I guess you're right, Tae. Thanks for listening to all my crap."

"Hey, you're my best friend. No sweat." He goes quiet before casually asking, "So, do you think she has a friend for m-"

"Tae-"

"Wrong time, my bad."

< Part 2 || Part 4 >

#jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #bts jungkook #bts fluff #bts angst #bts smut #bts x reader #fic: tmhtl #kookooluvr

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yndrgrl · 1 year ago

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katsuki bakugo is the only man who can help bunnygirl! you during heat.

established relationship. normal! au. first time as a couple.

warnings: nsfw, lowkey angst ngl, fellatio, praise, slight degradation, creampie

if you're here for the nsfw part, i marked it >:)

a/n: dude, idk why my last fic has that "mature" label 😭 also is this a hypersexual comfort fic? yeah.

---

"are you okay? you look hot?"

"your forehead is on fire!"

"you look red. drink some water."

you've been hearing that non-stop all day. of course, you know that everyone has good intentions, but it was so annoying.

no, you didn't feel fine, nor did you feel sick. it was a strange, embarrassing thing to admit. in a world full of truly remarkable quirks, you just had to get a basic one. your quirk was rabbit. you know mirko? yeah, well you two are in the same boat.

you have floppy bunny ears the same color as your hair, a puff ball of a bunny tail, & muscular legs. all so cutesy & alright to deal with. the behavioral traits were what got you though. increased hearing, jittery/easily scared, & most annoying of all, the heat that came with it.

though it wasn't unusual to have heat, it was definitely not something you mention in a passing conversation. heat made it hard to focus on anything except for breeding & sex. your senses are enhanced, making clothes feel itchy at all times. your train of thought always derailed to live making. that's why you were prescribed heat repressant.

no side affects & it worked like a charm.

however, this month you forgot to stock up on them, & you just so happened to run out. you would've just skipped school to get some, but it was midterms, which comes with tests & presentations that simply could not be made up. it was either fail your classes or bite the bullet.

"oi! what's your deal?" someone barked at you. ah yes, your boyfriend of six months, katsuki bakugo.

"nothing," you said with annoyance. another thing about your heat is that you get irritable because of the overwhelming feeling of needing to do a certain activity. "don't worry about it."

taken aback, katsuki reached out for you & spun you around. your eyes welled with tears of frustration & utter embarrassment, the tips of your ears were red, & every thread of your clothes made your skin crawl. "hey, what's going on?"

"i-it's nothing, just leave me alone. class is about to start." you understood how much katsuki prides himself in his academics. you're not gonna be the one to drag him down; that's not very amazing-cool-awesome girlfriend of you, after all.

he wanted to say that he didn't care & let's just ditch class, but you both knew you couldn't. the exams were too important. luckily for the both of you, the last period of the day was study hall. most kids just skip it, starting their free time early.

just a few classes, then i can go get medication, that's not bad at all, i've been through worse, you thought in attempts to calm yourself.

yeah, but imagine how could it would feel to be absolutely railed, oh fuck, imagine katsuki-

you had to cut yourself off, he was standing right beside you after all.

your relationship with katsuki has been slow, healthy, & true. the most you two have done in the span of six months is make out, grind, & grope each other clothed. both of you saw a future together so having sex didn't have to happen right then & there. if it happens, it happens, but there was no need to have it to connect.

you didn't want you first time with the love of your life to be because of your current circumstances.

"did i do something?" he asked, making your ears twitch.

"no, it's not you," you reassured, "there's nothing going on." you both entered the classroom, & you could feel katsuki's worried stare focused on you the entire time.

you took exam after exam, which, in of itself, is a long, stressful process. the bell rang throughout the school, & your classmates shuffled out of the room to go to their last period. finally, it was study hall. you threw everything into your backpack without a care. you were practically panting.

throughout the school day, the pressure building inside of you only gotten worse. you couldn't stop thinking about katsuki. his god-sent body, his perfect face, his rugged voice. god, he turned you on so much-- too much, actually.

you felt bad for ignoring all of his texts throughout the day. if you didn't, however, you had a feeling you would've sent some embarrassing messages.

as you exited your class, someone grasped your wrist, dragging you out of the school. their touch lit you on fire. you knew exactly who it was. "let me go, katsuki."

"no, not until you tell me what i did!" he growled at you. he doesn't even realize how wet i am for him-

you had to shut off your thoughts, but that's easier said than done.

"i told you already. you didn't do anything."

"well something is going on with you. tell me what's happening," he raised his voice, a vice grip still hanging onto your wrist. you were getting overstimulated & overwhelmed. once again, you couldn't help the angry tears from forming. you couldn't help but hyperfixate on your panties brushing against your sensitive clit. you couldn't help that your nipples were painfully perked.

you can't just admit that though. it's such a stupid problem to you. you felt so wrong & disgusting for thinking about sex all day. "you wouldn't understand!" you finally yelled back. "you wouldn't get it."

he didn't respond. katsuki continued to drag you throughout campus, leaving you with your thoughts.

god, i made him mad, you mentally cried out. hopefully he'll hate fuck you then-

you want to rip out your own brain & throw it on the concrete. it was a constant cycle of that the entire walk.

a few moments later, you realized you were in his dorm, sitting on his bed with him across from you in his desk chair. both of your hands were in his as he brushed his thumbs against your knuckles. that alone gave you goosebumps. "please tell me what's wrong, baby," he said in a hushed near-whimper. "i'm worried about you."

"you really wouldn't get it, katsuki," you whispered, finally letting a few tears roll down your cheek.

he placed his index finger underneath your chin. he gently raised your head, your gaze following suit. the two of you locked eyes, his swirling with worry & yours sprawling in uncertainty. "then make me understand."

"it's my stupid quirk," you exasperated. you tried coming up with ways of how to say what you want to say without scaring him off.

"what about it?" he asked.

"you have such a nice quirk, you know," you started, avoiding his question. "it's just so much flashier & cooler than mine. there's already a rabbit hero!"

"what are you talking about? you do have a cool quirk."

"i'm a bunnygirl. nothing more. people already know what to expect-"

"what is this really about? you brag all the time how you get to come up with new ways to make your quirk yours," he countered, not convinced with your answer. "there's something more, isn't there?"

katsuki was so good at reading people-- at reading you. the other times you've confided in him, your voice lacked clarity, stability. why would it be different now? it wouldn't, that's why.

"yeah, there is," you admitted, tugging on his hands so he'd get closer. "i just don't know how you'll react or how to even say it-"

"it's fine. just tell me, i won't get mad or judge you or whatever," he assured. you began to cry even more, staining his dress shirt.

he smelt so good, i can feel his muscles through his shirt, he's so sexy-

"i need you," you muttered into his chest.

"what was that, baby?"

you glanced up at him, eyes glossy, lips pouted. "i need you."

katsuki's breath hitched, "what are you talking about?" yes, he's had theories about your quirk & its drawbacks. was this it? was his theory correct?

more tears of frustration rolled down your cheeks as you tried to explained, "i have... you know."

his cock stirred, scolding himself mentally for getting hard during a time like this. "have what?" he wanted you to say it, confirm his suspicions.

you took a deep breath. "i have this thing every month or so, & it just makes things so much harder."

"tell me." his stern voice sent shockwaves through you.

it made you obey him automatically, robotically. "i'm going through heat." a silence followed. "it's normal for people with quirks like mine to go through this. i usually have repressants! & i know this probably makes you so uncomfortable; i understand if you don't want to be-"

-- nsfw starts here --

katsuki cut off your rambling, almost offended. "don't ever say that. i want you, all of you."

"p-please don't say such things," you begged him as you felt your pussy throb. "i'm r-really trying to hold back-"

"let me take care of you, princess," katsuki purred, finger tips ghosting over your exposed thighs. he buried his face into the crook of your neck. "do you want this, y/n? because i want you right now. if you tell me you don't want this, i'll stop."

all you could do is nod, your breath turning uneven.

"say it, y/n."

"i need you so bad. please, katsuki," you cried out as you rubbed your legs together.

he smirked into your neck before he started kissing your neck. you couldn't help but whimper. he noticed you holding back, so he bit your neck. he sucked hickeys all over your neck. your unsteady breathes turned into needy moans.

"t-take off my shirt, please-"

katsuki took in your demand by ripping it off your skin as if it were poison. he unhooked your bra, throwing it on the floor. "ah fuck," he groaned, cupping your breasts.

"are they o-okay?"

"you're fuckin' perfect, baby."

with one, he replaced his rough, calloused hand with his mouth. you grinder against his thigh as flicked your nipple with his tongue. "k-katsuki~"

he switched to the other one, giving it the same treatment. "all mine," he growled in between. he nipped at the skin around your nipples. your neck & chest were soon littered with purple marks & bites.

"let me touch you," you begged & you began to fidget with the buttons of his shirt. "take this off~"

"so needy, aren't you, princess," katsuki teased, yet he gave into you. he threw off his shirt, looming over you. goosebumps pricked at your skin, all over your arms down to your legs. you found yourself trailing your hands all over his abs, his muscular arms, around his back. it was like your hands had a mind of their own.

you flipped the two of you around, so now he was under you. "c-can i please mark you?"

he let out a laugh of amusement, making your face turn a deep red. "you don't have to ask, baby," he told you. as a response, you mimicked his actions from earlier. your lips kissed all over his neck, leaving marks in its wake. you trailed down to his chest, then his abs then his v-line until you reached the band of his pants.

the entire time, he was groaning, feeding you praises that shot straight through your core. when you stopped, he looked down at you, & there you were, staring back at him with eager, wide eyes. he could read you so well. "go ahead, y/n. pull them down."

to which you did. you hands hooked both his uniform pants & his boxers. you pulled them down, & your mouth watered when his cock sprung out. "i-it's so big," you moaned; you meant to only think that, but you couldn't help it.

his mushroom tip beaded precum, his veiny shaft twitched in anticipation. "you see how hard i am for you? all for you," katsuki told you, watching your eyes dart to his then back down to his cock.

you started licking him to test the waters. you saw as his eyebrows furrowed together, his mouth agape, narrowed eyes. your licks evolved into you sticking his tip into your mouth. your tongue flicked around his cock. you crossed your eyes & whined when you tasted his precum. thanks to his quirk, it tasted almost sweet, salty, & god, was it addicting.

you bobbed your head up & down his thick rod. the tip hit the back of your throat while spit flooded your mouth. it was hard to breath, but you didn't care. having katsuki inside of you was more important than breathing. "slow down. you're gonna make me cum, good girl."

that was enough inspiration for you. you needed his cum. you forced your head all the way down his cock, your nose buried in his pubes. your eyes watered (for the fifth time today), & you stared into katsuki's eyes. both of his hands tangled themselves into your hair. "i'm gonna fuck that slutty, little throat, okay? just tap if it's too much," he informed, but he had a feeling you were going let him do whatever he wanted.

you moaned as a way to let him know that you heard him. the vibrations quivered his tip. "mmm, fuck. you're doing so good," he praised, jutting his hips forward the drawing them back.

his thrusts at first were small, in fear he was hurting you. however, as he looked down at you, your eyes rolled back, drool spilling out of your mouth, rubbing your aching clit for some sort of release, he couldn't hold back. he started using your throat as a fuck toy.

fast & rough, & all you could do was take it. take it, even though you're crying & it's hard to breath. "i'm close," he uttered out in between moans. his sultry voice turned a pitch higher in a humiliating tease, "you want my cum, baby? huh? c'mon, tell me you want it."

you choked out muffled, "yes please" & "cum down my throat please." he laughed at you trying to form sentences with your mouth stuffed. "such an eager bitch. fine, i'll give you what you want."

he thrusted his hips forwards, keeping your head in place. you face smushed against his hips. his cock twitched as he unloaded spurts of cum down your throat.

he pulled away, & strings of saliva mixed with his semen leaked onto your skirt. you looked back up at him, finding his cock still erect. "you look so surprised," katsuki said as he caught his breath. "i'm still so hard for you. after all, i told you i was going to take care of you."

"p-please have sex with me," you barely even whispered.

"what was that?"

"please-"

"i still can't hear you," katsuki told you, stroking his dick. he really knew how to push your buttons

"please fuck me, katsuki! i need it, i need you so bad~ i need your big cock inside of me," you blurted out. you finally let you stupid, nasty fantasies get the better of you.

judging from katsuki's smug expression, he wanted you to indulge in them. "alright, alright. you've been such a good girl for me. it's the least i could do," he shrugged before flipping you over so you were trapped under him. even in your most intimate moments, he was cocky. & god, did it make your pussy wet.

as he started to pull your skirt down, your hands shot to grab his wrists. "no, fuck me now, i can't wait. it hurts too bad," you whined, your glossy lips pouting.

"of course, princess," he said with a smirk. "whatever you want." katsuki's fingers dove under your skirt to push your panties out of the way. he held your legs up, placing your calves over his shoulders.

he lubed the tip of his dick with your juices by running it through your folds. "you're so wet for me, good girl."

"it's all for you, katsuki~" you purred, anticipation practically killing you. you felt pride as he turned his head to kiss the meat of your calf in approval.

"can't let it go to waste," he told you. he lined his thick, heavy cock with your entrance. something must've taken over you because, the moment it lined up with your hole, you shoved your hips forward with your entire body.

you let out a squeal of pleasure, your pussy stretching to accommodate for katsuki's lengthy cock. "shit, baby, you almost knocked me over," he chuckled as he readjusted. both of his hands were on your hips.

"shut up & fuck me," you growled at him. his cock twitched, brow raised in amusement.

"yes ma'am," he replied, "but remember you said that." from the get-go, his thrusts were powerful, immediately finding the cervix. your nails dug into his biceps down to his wrists. moans, whimpers, & screams spilled out of your lips.

katsuki took his fingers to your mouth & demanded in a low voice, "suck."

the action made you quiet down. he found your g-spot soon after, & you felt lightheaded. with his fingers down your throat, his cock abusing your most sensitive spot, & katsuki whispering dirty nothings into your ears, you shut your eyes & released all the tension building up.

"f-f-fuck, i-i'm cumming, katsuki," you rasped, voice having a small lisp thanks to his fingers. you squirted all over his abdomen, breath heavy & uneven.

he didn't stop though. he still rammed his big fuckin' dick in & out of you, not letting you calm down from your euphoric high. in fact, his hand that you slobbered all over found their way to your clit. he drew small circles around it. "ah, katsuki!" you moaned. "it's too much!"

"you'll be a good girl, & take it, won't you? i haven't cum inside you yet," he responded while his other hand pinched your nipples.

"i-i-i'll be a good girl, katsuki~" you slurred, speaking on beat with his thrusts. he made you cum three more times then you felt as his hips became more robotic, shorter, uncalculated.

"i'm cumming," he groaned through gritted teeth. "i'm cumming. fuckin' take all of it." thick jets of hot, white cum stained your walls. his dick pulsated inside of you. you came again; who could blame you?

he took a few deep breaths, collapsing on top of you as he pulled out of your pussy. cum spilled out of you & onto his sheets. he embraced you, whispering, "round two?"

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soxcietyy · 4 months ago

Text

Anatomy

Gojo x reader

18 + You’re about to take one of the most important exams. Unfortunately you suck at your anatomy and need to learn the material fast. Luck for you Gojo is good at everything, not only that but he’s also a teacher. Soon you learn about his odd teaching techniques.

"I don’t think I’ll be able to pass this test." You groan as you drink your coffee Shoko had bought you.

You were out with the two of your friends so they could cheer you up. As a healer you had to go the health care route in your studies but it wasn’t so simple.

"Why don’t you just cheat? Shoko is cheating!" Gojo looks at her before returning his gaze back at you.

You let out a deep sign as you slouch in your chair.

Just because she’s cheating doesn’t mean you should too. She’s had some good memory so it was easy to learn everything for her. Unlike you who had to actually go study for it.

Shoko said she would help you cheat through the homework, quizzes, project but you where on your own for the final exam. If you wanted to graduate at the same time as her then you would have to ace this anatomy exam tomorrow.

You felt too scared to cheat. What if you were caught? You would be academically expelled!

You groan loudly before looking up at your friends who had worried expressions.

"How bad do you guys think I’m going to do?" You ask.

"Fail"

"You’ll be fine"

They both said at the same time. Shoko elbows Gojo and then proceeds to grab your hands.

"Just study hard. I would love to help but I have a mission to go on but…" she turns to look at Gojo who was biting his biscuit. "But Gojo here is a teacher now."

Ah right, that moron did take up a teaching job right after graduating. Now that you think about it Shoko might be right. He’s a teacher! His job is to teach material to students. He could help you learn everything you need to. Not only that but he was good at everything he did, he would be able to learn everything in no time.

"Gojo you have to teach me!" You say with a pleading look.

"Haha, right as if you would want to learn anything from me. Don’t you two always make fun of me? Saying I’ll be a horrible teacher and whatnot."

Both of you glare at him.

"Ah, your serious I see.,." He says confused yet surprised.

—-

He was taking his sweet time looking over your text book. Giggling over a few certain pages before slamming the book shut.

You lift your head up from the couches arm.

"Alright I got everything down. Do you want to start with the bones or muscles?"

Gojo decided that the best place to study was in the comfort of his own home. You had protested by saying a library or coffee shop would be better because it would motivate you more.

He then proceeded to call you delusional and dragged you to his place.

It’s not like you haven’t been here before. You all used to hang out here almost everyday during high school. Now he was too busy working while you and Shoko were busy at school trying to get a masters degree.

"Bones"

You figured out really soon that his teaching techniques were quite odd.

Wack

"Ow! What was that for?!" You say as you rub your thigh.

Did he really just hit you with his arm?

"Where did I hit you?" He asks.

"My thigh you idio-"

"Wrong, tell me the name of the bone."

Ah, of course. You sigh as you tell him that he hit your femur with his ulna.

Wack, wack

That’s how studying went for a while. Eventually he would speed up the process by going faster and by hitting multiple spots at once. At the end you felt so sore.

You laid sprawled out on the floor as an ice bag rested on your rib cage.

At this point five long hours had gone by. Thankfully you had learned all the skeletal bones in the body but it was taking longer than you initially expected it to. If you guys keep on like this then it would take you forever to learn the muscles.

"You look so defeated already." Gojo said amused as you laid still.

"This is just harder than I thought it was going to be. Don’t you have a different way of learning anatomy without hurting me?" You ask.

You saw his mouth turn into a wide grin before he squatted down.

"I do have a different way but I feel like you’d dislike it." He smiles.

"I Dont care, I just need to learn the muscles in two hours!" You say looking at the clock.

"Let’s put consequences, people are prone to make less mistakes and to try harder if there’s a punishment."

You roll your eyes.

The exam was early in the morning and you needed all the rest you could get. He was just wasting time at this point. You sigh and just go along with his nonsense.

He grabs your hand and pulls you up so you could sit. He then sat across from you and took his mask off from his face.

He must finally be taking this seriously. Grabbing your hand once again he pulls your index finger and puts it on his cheek.

This was the exact same method, just with no pain involved.

"Masseter"

Then he dragged your finger to his temple.

"Temporalis"

You watch as he squints his eyes at you and looks at you suspiciously.

"I thought you needed help. Seems like you have it down."

"I obviously know a few things. For example the obvious ones like biceps. I know everything above the neck too."

He sits there in his thoughts for a moment before grabbing your hand again.

He slowly unfolded your hand and brought it to his chest. It surprised you for a second but you quickly remembered why he was doing this.

"Breast."

The both of you look at each other for a solid second. Holding eye contact before he suddenly burst out laughing. He had to catch his breath before correcting you.

"Pectoralis major"

Right… you would have totally gotten that right if it wearing for him doing such a thing.

You repeat the answer under your breath as he moves your hand once again.

This time it’s was his abs.

You swallow hands as he runs your hands over them. He wore a tight black shirt making it feel like it was his real skin. You could tell he was watching you carefully. Trying to read the facial expressions you were making. He was enjoying this…

You could concentrate at all. You had the answer on the tip of your tongue but it would spill out.

He kept running your hand up and down

"You’re taking too long y/n, the answer is recuts abdominus. We can come back to it later. Shall I give you a hard one?" He asks.

Maybe this was enough for today. Clearly he was toying with you and you had no time for such thing. Once you get home you’re going to study till midnight.

He moved your hand before you could tell him the study session was over.

It took you a moment to realize what you where not touching and it was indeed hard.

You jolt as he squeezed your hand around his length.

Don’t think about it.

Just answer the stupid question and be over with his games.

"Your small penis"

He glare’s at you as he runs your hand up and down his shaft.

"You know well this isn’t small."

You turn to look away from him so he wouldn’t see your cheeks turning pink. You could feel how it twitched under your touch, how it was pulsing begging to be let out. Begging for any sort of attention. Something you weren’t willing to give so easily.

"Anyways you’re wrong. A penis isn’t a muscle."

Huh?

"It’s not?! But you can move it right?"

Gojo for some reason took this as in invitation to unbutton his pants and to spring it out. You didn’t know whether to look away or take this as a learning observation.

Learning! You’re doing this to learn about the human anatomy! You hum in your head.

Averting your eyes down you see it. That wide long monstrous thing. How could that possibly fit inside of anyone?! Who would even want to sleep with him?

He moved it somehow. You watched it move up and down slowly.

"That’s two answers wrong in a row y/n" he coos.

Right. The punishment.

"So what are you going to make me do? Run laps? push-ups? Your chores?"

"No it’s something even better. Not only will this benefit me but it’s also going to make you learn a bit faster hopefully." He says.

Grabbing your leg he drags you towards him. You yelp at the sudden surprise. You knew he was a hundred times stronger than you so you didn’t bother to fight back. You watched him carefully as he climbed over you. His hair dangling over you.

He leans in slowly into your ear and whispered six words.

"I’m going to put it in."

Your breath hitches as you pushed him back.

This man was trying to kill you! There’s no way, absolutely no way that was going to fit in you at all! Of course you’ve had your fare share of men in you but nothing this big.

You shake your head repeatedly at him.

"You scared? Don’t worry I’ll be nice and careful. I’ll even let you stop me from moving if you answer my questions right." Gojo moves your hair to the back of your ear.

He ran his thumb over your temple in circles trying to sooth you.

All you had to do was get the answer correct right? You’ll just get them all right so he won’t even be able to enter you.

You feel as his hands run over your waist. His cold hands touching your sensitive skin before he gripped your bottoms and yanked them down. Your hands quickly go down to hide everything but he was quick to grab both of your wrist with one hand.

"You’re tempting me to just ram into you if you keep squirming like that."

You stay still causing him to laugh.

"Since you got two wrong I get to put two inches in." He says as he lines himself up with your hole.

You kick him and yell at him to stretch you out first but he refuses by saying that it wouldn’t be a punishment if he were to do that. With that out the way he began sliding into you. The second his tip went in you let out a cry of pain.

You try to run away by scooting back but he held you down and kept going in.

His eyes would squeeze shut at he bit his bottom lip. You could feel as he gripped your wrist and the leg he was holding up.

You let out a louder cry as he kept going. Begging him to stop and to let you adjust. There’s no way women actually enjoyed sleeping with him. He was carrying and actual weapon. He could literally kill someone with that.

Once he did stop you let out a loud groan.

"Such a good girl, you’re doing so good. Who would have know you were so tight." He kisses the inside of your leg.

You whimper in protest.

"What’s this?"

He points at the side of his rib cage.

"Y-your external oblique." Your voice trembles.

"Atta girl."

He then points at the middle part of his thigh.

You began to panic. Name, what’s the name?!why couldn’t they have simple names?! Why are there so many different muscles?

You open your mouth hoping the right answer would hopefully come out. The femur was located there so it had to have the word in the name right? Or at least rhyme with it. Femur-loris? Femoris? That sounded right but what if there’s a second part. Or maybe it was just one word.

You looked at him hoping for a hint but he just stared at you. Finding it amusing the way you were trying to think so hard while he was inside of you.

"You’re taking too long." He says as he shoves himself deeper inside of you.

Ngh!

You whimper as gets I n deeper.

"Femoris!" You yell out.

He makes you take in another inch.

"Fuck! You piece of shit! You’re a horrible teacher! I’m not going to learn anything like this!" You curse at him.

He slams the rest of his three inches inside of you causing you to cry. Your eyes almost roll back as you felt him stuff you. He slams your arms above your head and presses his pelvis deeper into yours. Rolling his hips over and over again making you go crazy. Your eyes began to water as you felt overwhelmed. Hot tears coating your eyelash.

Mascar stains your under eyes and your face begins to heat up. You’re begging him to slow down. Looking at him with a pleading look.

"Gojo, please! I don’t know the answer. I can’t even think straight right now!" You sob.

“Recuts Femoris." He says through his teeth.

He leads your hand to his chest and makes you tell him the answer to that one again.

You give him the correct name of it and felt as he began to slow down inside of you. He lets go of your wrists and brings his thumb to your clit. Rubbing it in circles to give you pleasure.

"A reward for being such a smart girl." He whispers.

He watches as you squirm and jolt at the sensation. He kept sliding in and out of you slowly but the pleasure was more overwhelming than the pain.

You start moaning out his name the faster he went. You’ve never felt this good before. With all the men you slept this had to the best one yet. He wasn’t even fucking you probably! He was toying with you!

What would it feel like if he was actually trying?

"Can’t you just fuck me properly?!" You say

He looks at you shocked before smiling. He put your legs over each shoulder and leaned in closer to you. You moan as he somehow reached a deeper area inside of you.

"I will when you get everything down and if you pass I’ll even eat you out." He groans as he grinds himself onto you.

You don’t know how or where all of this knowledge came from all of a sudden. Each place he pointed out you got the right answer, well almost. You would slip a few times making him pull away and slam into you. At some point your body finally adjusted to his length. This making the punishment more wanted. Sometimes you got the answers wrong on purpose.

By the end you had everything down and he was finally fucking you the way you wanted.

He had you on your knees as he plowed into you.

"I think this technique of learning is way better. Now shall we keep doing this for every exam?" He grins.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo saturo #gojo sensei #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jujutsu gojo #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru

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bomber-grl · 2 months ago

Text

What being their crush is like

Pairing(s): Characters x Gn!Ninja!Reader (teammate)

Character(s): Naruto Uzumaki, Sakura Haruno, Sasuke Uchiha

Naruto Uzumaki

An absolute fool for you

The only ways you could’ve caught this morons affections is by either being attractive or being kind to him back when you both first started out at the academy

Either way he’s absolutely smitten and so when he hears your name called out after his in class- he’s ecstatic that you’ll be on the same team

If you have a crush on someone else he’d be pretty bummed out but it won’t deter him

(He was especially motivated by sasuke and Sakura- it was just to get him away from them)

He’ll try to buy you ramen, flowers, honestly just anything to show you that he’s the most suitable suitor

Which couldn’t be further from the the truth (in the eyes of everyone else)

He’d be so open about liking you

Well, when he’s not around you

He’ll always talk about you and how wonderful you are- it’s so painfully obvious to any outsider looking in

And when someone brings up his more than obvious crush on you he’d flush and act as if they had gone mental

Like what

Also bonus points to you if you constantly back him up when he’s being teased and support his dream to be hokage

Literally +1000 points

Well a certain period of time passes and throughout said period he’s constantly flirting with you

How? Well he’s always complimenting your fighting/ jutsu and trying to ask you out on a date

If you are even slightly hesitant to respond

Like by a milisecond- then he’d rub the back of his head and laugh it off

Going on about how he was just joking and I don’t know what

Then one day you end up accepting

Which is funny because of the fact that he left a very traditional love note hidden somewhere he knew you’d fine

[insert you going home and finding it]

Literally not surprising to anyone and most people would assume that Naruto would confess boldly

But I disagree- he’d be pretty shy and uncertain despite his tendency to be reckless

If you accept or not will be up to you but the next time you see him he’s all awkward and stuff but still manages to try and play it off

It’s up to you to break the ice

Sakura Haruno

Again, Sakura likely started liking you because of your attractiveness

It was just a surface level crush until she saw that you had an actual good character

She’s so beyond happy that you’ll be on the same team, I’m not even exaggerating

You’re all in the same class and so as classmates you’re all bound to have crushes on the same people

That’s to say- a good amount of people also had a crush on you and the moment your name was announced alongside hers-

She just mentally imagined flipping them all and shoving it in their faces

Miss girl is honestly so sweet, she’s always trying to spend time with you and if you have any trouble with anything

E.g. ninjutsu, fighting, etc. she’ll always be there to help

Maybe a little too willing at times

Now, we all know that Ino and Sakura have had this rivalry and often banter

Well, all of a sudden (if Ino isn’t fighting over you) she’s probably making fun of you and being very loud about her opinion on you

It’s either that she thinks you and Sakura are a perfect match (negative) or that you’re terrible and not the best option (also negative)

Either way you’re catching strays

Sakura obviously gets riled up over this and tries to defend you no matter where or when

Which leads to you being there for Sakuras Chunin exams and experiencing the whole match

It’s an event that leads to character growth- but when she goes back she doesn’t expect you to be there waiting for her

She’s honestly flattered you’d wait for her and is mentally smug about it

When she flirts with you it’s honestly super obvious too

I can’t even deny that

Like at times she’d defend you and act as though you’re always right and idk what else (which is her odd way of flirting because she sort of stares)

And then sometimes she just opens up about private stuff around you during the quiet moments

Plus she also gifts you little trinkets- like flowers or something casual and small

Either way- when she confesses it’s probably spontaneous asf

Like you’re walking around at night and she gets this urge to just spill her guts

And she does

She’s basically like why the hell not be like Naruto

She’s super flushed and awaits your response right then and there

If you like her back and know it- that’s that

But if you tell her you need to time to figure it out then she’ll accept

Just know she’s lying awake at night wondering regretting it

Sasuke Uchiha

He acts super neutral towards you

Which wouldn’t be an obvious pointer that you’re his crush towards the average person but cmon

He’s sasuke

So ofc it’s obvious he has a crush on you

Honestly the only way I’d see him having a crush on you would be if you were close to him pre massacre and have been by his side since forever

(Unless you’re willing to wait the long game *cough*cough* slow burn)

He’d be pretty dependent on you while also being super independent

It’s honestly confusing sometimes

When it comes to the whole you being apart of his team, he doesn’t feel a particular way about it

(Or so he tells himself)

He’d try so hard to be nonchalant around you

Like not even joking

But if someone insults you or does something slightly disrespectful- he’s giving them the death glare

And then excuses it with just being annoyed by (more often than not) Naruto

Since he usually pokes fun at ppl and stuff

(If you didn’t know him before the academy and even if you did) He’d probably admire your skills and how smart you are

Like he’d watch you from afar and is honestly jealous and simultaneously sees you as a rival

Again, super confusing.

The most affection you’d get from him at this stage is his (once in a lifetime) compliment about your fighting or something

Then he’d walk away

You’re left standing there super confused while he walks away with a light blush dusting his cheeks

He ain’t fooling nobody

He obviously feels super weird about having a crush on you because of his whole mission on finding his brother and -

Yea.

So even though he does like you more than he’d want to admit- he would never confess

Not likely

Which is what you thought

Until you find out that Sasuke left the village and there’s no point in trying to go after him or anything at all really

It’s a betrayal to you and everyone else

It’s dark by the time you get home and enter your room

You pick up this thing Sasuke had given you- his excuse? It wasn’t worth his time and so he had given it to you

You didn’t care much for his excuse and just kept it on your dresser

Upon closer inspection you noticed a paper sticking out and obviously took it out

It was a letter- one could argue it was sasuke confessing

He went on about how he liked was ok being around you and the paper note wasn’t all that long

Just a few lines (if any)

There was a rip towards the bottom and you were left wondering what it would’ve said

Spoiler - it was Sasukes actual confession that he cowardly ripped off and threw into a body of water, hoping you’d never find it

A/n: got a tad carried away

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walkingzombiegirl · 5 months ago

Note

hiii can i request some fluff with toge inumaki and fem!reader? like headcannons on how it would be like to date him and how their relationship grew? i love your works you do such a great job! <3

━ 𝘿𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙄𝙣𝙪𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙞

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 - Toge Inumaki x Fem!Reader

𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀 - Headcanons for dating your favorite partial mute!

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 - Cursing? Maybe? Alludes to death

𝗲𝘅𝘁𝗿𝗮𝘀 - My brain ran out of ink I might add more

You guys met when you joined the school as a first year and the first thing you seen was a talking panda

A surprise fr

But then you met him, and it was bonito flakes at first sight

Okay no more jokes

But seriously he was really cute and you were extremely awkward around him for the longest because it's already hard wondering what your crush thinks about you

But you couldn't physically understand yours

Not at first I mean

Inumaki thought you were also also very pretty however he knew that there was definitely going to be a barrier until you began to understand him like his friends did

It's when the notes began

He first began them when he asked you for a pencil right before an exam and it carried over

Each time he needed to communicate with you, he'd write a note

You'd pass them back and forth in class as well, when you were supposed to be being quiet

Gojo pretended he didn't see that part

Until finally his words, though very few, began to click

Like Groot, you caught on, faster than anyone else had and even Maki was impressed with that

He still likes leaving you notes though

Especially in your desk or just around where he knows you and you only will find them

And one day, a note on your desk said, DATE? YES NO

Panda couldn't stop giggling, so you knew something was up

Obviously, as seen above you said yes

I could just imagine all the ways he'd show his love without speaking it for the most part

Like the notes

Also a firm believer that he's very much a hand holder as well, he likes playing with your fingers

Also stares a lot

Especially when you're talking and telling something bro gets extremely zoned in and stares you down like you've hung the sun and stars and are the best thing that's ever happened to him

Which you are

He's whipped

All his friends know this as well, they love it

You don't get to see much happiness often in their world, all you really have is each other and long live happy relationships as long as they last

He likes taking walks, the clear his head since y'know, saying certain things might murder everyone in a few mile radius

They're very personal to him

So he starts taking you, and sometimes it's silence, sometimes he likes just hearing you talk because it helps calm him

Sometimes you both share earbuds

Whatever it is they're some of his favorite things ever and he'll take secrets pics of you if you skip ahead

Great insta posts the man CAN take a photo

He's the type of boyfriend to get in the most awkward poses if you need a good selfie

YES GIRL GIVE US SALMON

*squats*

He truly loves you and worships the ground you walk on

DIY king also btw

Idk why that thought just popped in my head but I feel like he truly can do anything if you ask him

Build you a bookshelf? Five minutes, no sweat, zero mistakes and it's done and he just stares at you like :3

Great listener obviously

HIS BITCH POSE IS NASTY

if you say something even remotely untrue he gives you the biggest most diabolical silent side eye ever seen before

Shakes the ground

Eyebrow game is strong, very expressive man it's very attractive

My thoughts are running out but he's just a king of being a boyfriend

a/n: best friend break up!!!!!!!!!!! THEY STUICJK

#toge inumaki #toge inumaki x reader #toge inumaki x you #inumaki x reader #inumaki x you #inumaki x y/n #toge x reader #toge x you #toge x y/n

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sunboki · 2 days ago

Text

⎯ COUNTDOWN TO LOVE. a Christopher Bahng fiction

🎁 : Christopher Bahng x fem. reader

TROPE. countdown to christmas, best friends to lovers! au, pining, non-idol! au, comfort, worry of unrequited feelings, slight angst, fluff, cuteness overload

WORD COUNT. 6.5k ☆ 34 minute read

WARNINGS. swearing(??), mentions of a dick(?), insecurity, usage of terms of endearment, mentions of inferiority, mention of vomit, reader is said to wear makeup on an occasion

AUG'S NOTES. this was a very soft and sweet opposition to Christmas Blues last year which, notably, was remarkably “blue” in nature. in the midst of writing i found myself worried this new approach to lighter, best-friend-to-lovers feelings would be too plain—but i had to remind myself this isn’t enemies to lovers, nor is it nearly as angsty as Christmas Blues!! though i hope their feelings can be both established and understood well, so thank you for sticking with me this far :) i hope this fuzzy piece keeps your heart warm during this cold winter<3

PLAYLIST.

SYNOPSIS. It had always been natural between you and Chris. Knowing someone for almost ten years comes with that. And yet, when he confesses that he doesn’t want to keep up this cycle but pursue you one winter, you’re hesitant in thinking it will work out. Then again, you’ve never been one to deny him.

or alternatively :

Five days till Christmas, five dates to see if you feel the same.

December 20th.

“Move your arm.”

Sunday morning sunlight streams through barely cracked blinds, making your brows crinkle at the onslaught of brightness in distaste. That, along with occupying a mattress with none other than Chris Bahng.

A weekly occurrence at this rate, if not daily. And no, whatever earlier assumption about you two sharing a bed is wrong.

Totally.

Oh, he’s also pitiful to boot, evident with the loud whine heard in response as he rolls over—messy curls unruly upon just awakening.

And.. somehow beautiful, with those big brown eyes and lips the color of burnt russet parting with a highly exaggerated yawn.

But pitiful most of all.

“‘S warm—“ Chris groans out, inch-worming his way to wrap big arms around your form, beckoning you snuggled against his back with a content sigh.

“Too warm,” You scowl, squirming about in his grasp, disagreeable sorts of sounds leaving tight lips. Chris simply giggles.

“Say,” He begins, weighing his chin upon your shoulder, fingertips slipping beneath your shirt to feel your skin, tracing the lines of your abdomen, rising to rest on your belly.

A surprising lover of skin-to-skin, he is.

“What if we became something more?”

When you know someone long enough, an established sense of normalcy alternative to everybody else appears, whether that’s the plentiful times you’d heard Chris squeal like a girl after walking in on him in his boxers, or the not-so pretty nights out where he’d hold back your hair while you threw up in the bathroom a bar whose name you can’t recall.

But then again, it’s always been just that.

Nothing more, nothing less. He didn’t demand anything from you, didn't judge you. Listening with an attentive ear those days you would cry on the phone, and bring you a donut before morning classes after passing an exam.

The small things.

So it makes you wonder when you started seeing him differently. And if he felt that same way too.

A slow progression of love, like a river in its path of eroding canyons over thousands of years. Familiar, comforting. Done without a second thought like muscle memory. His fingers curling against yours in busied atmospheres, the look you both give each other when a certain song comes on.

“Whatcha lookin’ at?”

With your face peering over his monitor, wide eyes he adores peek at him from an upside down angle.

Cute, he thinks, tapping your nose with a chilled index.

Chris always keeps it cold in his apartment, partially because he remembers you’d told him you sleep better that way, partially because he loves to hear you complain about it in the morning.

As for the big question popped earlier today, he chooses to wait patiently per your request (after staring at him like he’d grown an extra pair of eyes then proceeding to smack his arm before realizing he was serious).

So, yes, you’re thinking.

And it scares Chris more than he’d like to admit.

He knows the risks, the “let’s try this” somehow turning into an ugly breakup and never speaking again.

And he can’t afford that when it comes to you, because you’ve become the most important person in his life without even noticing it.

Even if his love is one sided. Unrequited.

He’d be okay as long as he has you.

Just the thought makes him anxious, makes the clicking of his mouse arranging the tempo to become erratic in pace, head-dizzying.

“Chris?”

Until your voice finds him, and the torrential waves of his ocean go back to their slow lapsing. Calming the waters as always, trademark to you.

“New track,” He offers, eyes flickering up to you with a meek smile emphasizing the charming dimples there.

Majoring in music comes with both perks and downfalls: hours spent studying and cramming terms down his throat whilst managing personal projects, and, of course, the fleeting satisfaction after passing an exam by a stroke of luck.

But he loves every moment of it, especially having you listen to some of his favorite productions. Some he’ll strum on a guitar amidst his arranged apartment shared with Changbin and Han—roommates you’d grown quite acquainted with—in the late evening, his heart likely beating out of his chest watching your sweet face nod along.

At the moment it’s him here alone, Han having already relocated back home for the holidays, Changbin at his part time job, working lighting and electrical work at a live-house.

“Can I listen?”

Slow to nod, he beckons you closer with a wave of his hand, carefully placing headphones overtop your ears.

And yet, as your head bobs and face wrinkles up just like he does when hearing something catchy, he can’t help the grin on his face watching you.

You’re beautiful, and he’s too fond it might just be unhealthy.

It’s too easy to fall in love with you.

He has a feeling he’ll be thinking that a lot.

December 21st.

Enough.

If there was an early New Year’s resolution, gaining a lack of hesitation would have to be on the top of the list.

Of course, that would ensue plenty of compromising situations if you did things impulsively considering the amount of times you’d wanted to kiss him, but, for the most part, it would work in a sensible manner.

“Five dates.”

Last night you slept over (similar to most nights), clad in one of Chris’s old t-shirts and a pair of suspiciously clean basketball shorts for the gym-addicted man in question, Changbin, to offer you.

By the stove, Chris occupies himself with cooking eggs, lips puffed in a way downright dangerous to your “no hesitation” resolution and lack of t-shirt displaying a broad, muscled back adding to the list.

Your tongue pokes against your cheek, arms crossed over your chest.

”Five dates.. mhm.. gotcha…” Each nod from the man assures you that, no, he doesn’t “gotcha”; his attention long since drawn to what lies in a sizzling pan and the low hum of “I’m Yours” by Jason Mraz rumbling from the small radio on the corner of the kitchen island.

“Chris,” You grunt, brows lifting, resisting the urge to laugh when he glances over his shoulder with that sheepish expression, all-telling.

Or maybe that comes with the years. Unspoken gestures understood without fail.

”Sorry ‘bout that,” He murmurs, and you curse every aspect of your vision being a spectator to his trapezius rippling while dishing down two mugs from the cabinet. One that you bought him, the other purchased by Han.

The latter patterned with.. odd shaped bananas he’s sworn are not the shape of a dick.

But that’s a story for another time.

Although, that’s the least of the oddities. Between the Danny Devito cheeto ornament(how they got their hands on it you couldn’t guess) added to their tiny Christmas tree and the rug in the bathroom with old stains no one talks about, you’ve decided to turn a blind eye for the sake of learning things you don’t want to remember.

“What do you think if.. y’know, before we try something new,”

You pause, scorning the sly smile on his face when turning to face you, long fingers quelling the stove’s flame momentarily.

He thinks you’re the most darling thing he’s laid eyes on, and you think he’s going to laugh at you.

”We go on five dates. And after those five dates, I’ll make up my mind.”

”Is this a part of your “thinking”?”

Jerk. He’s lucky he’s handsome.

Gnawing at your bottom lip, your face pinches.

“Yes.” The words are quiet, too hushed for your liking.

Chris doesn’t make you quiet, he doesn’t make you shy. Yet, these days you find yourself falling back into a cycle of nervous, foreign feelings when speaking. As if he’s picking you apart piece for piece.

As if he hasn’t already read every page of the book named you over and over again.

But now the pages rewrite themselves, too many filled with the word “love” and “affection” and “more than friends” and—

“Can I kiss you after those dates?”

Jerk. For the second time.

”And if I say no?”

He lights a fire under your feet. Maybe it’s the heat causing blood to rush to your ears.

Chris lifts his mug. ”Indirect?”

You scoff, he giggles, squeaky in pitch just as it’s always been. Your cheeks warm.

Because in the midst of a once-normalcy, you can feel a storm brewing. It’s unclear if it’ll be a hurricane or a refreshing rain shower, and perhaps the unpredictably is supposed to be thrilling.

Or maybe it’s doomed, and the debris left after that hurricane will lay untouched, uncared for.

So it’s the feeling of his arms wrapping around you beckoning those thoughts out of reach, holding the doubt just high enough you don’t have to see.

Hear, listen, overthink. For now, all there is to fret about is Chris, and the warmth of his hug, pulling you infinitely close against heated skin.

Then does it register to you he’s always read your pages the same, and he would for as long as you’ll give him time to reread. If they change, they change together.

How foolish you forgot such a thing. As if he wasn’t your best friend first.

“Yes, you can.”

When those five dates are over, kiss me.

His nose buried into your shoulder, he murmurs a quiet “thank you”, a satisfied hum resounding from his chest, eyes crinkling up in the corners with a smile.

“Is that my shampoo?”

If anything, you feel as if you’ve been having dates over the years you’ve known Chris as he lists out ideas from a website on his phone. Except, yours weren’t touchy feel-y and certainly not regarded as “dates”, but simple things.

Dinners, falling asleep on his shoulder (something he remembers very well), baking together.

It’s a cold day, and after his hug that squeezed every fiber of sanity from your being, you now resorted to trying to figure out what that first date should consist of.

The first of the five, pending.

“Ah,” Lips parting to exhale, you peer from the nearest window, watching hot breath fog up the glass whilst gazing out at vastly falling slow blanketing the ground a winter wonderland. A white abyss from your viewpoint.

“It’s snowing.”

A chaste pause ensues.

“Might as well go out ‘n enjoy it, hm?” His voice, paired with a grin saturated in too much mischief for your liking resounds from over your shoulder.

Unable to react fast enough, Chris, sneaking up behind you without your knowledge, hoists you over his shoulder in seconds time—now (unfortunately) adorning a hoodie over his once bare torso.

Your shocked shriek rings about the apartment in reply.

“Out of the way! We’re goin’ outside!” Chris giggles victoriously, shouting to no one in particular as your fists beat at his back upon making for the door.

The faintest gust of frigid wind has goosebumps slithering up your skin—granting the man a cacophony of “No! Let me down!”’s he seems to soak up like praise.

Well, before relenting.

Because then again, who was he to deny you? To some degree it felt like every bone in his bone dragged him close to you, trailing after your footsteps like a lost puppy.

“One of these days,” Sighing heavily like that of an old man, a firm hand pats your thigh before you’re reluctantly flopped onto the couch, glaring up at him in a manner he deems too pretty to keep from smiling at.

That same hand comes to hold your face, smushing up your cheeks and, in turn, earning plentiful laughter you simply huff towards.

“Don’t pout—“ He whines, your heart rate spiking when another hand comes down towards your hair.

If there was any restraint of yours left, it would be relinquished instantly if he so much as touched your hair—

He flicks your forehead. And proceeds to slump down beside you.

“Oh you prick-“

His hand reaches to gently cover your mouth, bringing an index to rest on plush lips of his own.

“No pouting, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

Oh he’s going to get it.

Playing you like a fiddle.

And damn does he do it well.

Head tipping, your eyes flicker over his features��silently admiring such a side profile. With the perfect curve of his lips and hook of his nose, he could rival sculptures found in museums.

This was after trying to tackle him (to no avail, sadly) and curse his very existence (another fail).

Then, the mediator came by in the form of a movie night and the small sheet of chocolate chip cookies warming in the oven, scent steaming the air with a mouthwatering aroma.

Your first of five, initiated.

“Mm.. Don’t we have movie nights normally though?” The remark offered quietly, you shift closer to his body, pressing your right side to his, knees tucked beneath a blanket he’d arranged across either of your laps.

Love Actually plays on the screen ahead, but your focus couldn’t be deviating more.

Ever the attentive soul, Chris is equal in the shared admiration, honeyed irises fixed upon you in his peripheral prior to a careful finger lifting, looping a strand of hair behind your ear.

In turn, his gentle palm cups your jaw to tilt your head, sweeping an additionally stubborn hair from the other side of your face as well.

Your heart feels moments from bursting, and he looks at you as if you’re his whole world.

You are, but that was a matter unnoticed on your end.

It’s a quiet debate. Dangerous and fickle. Move too quickly and something might go wrong, hesitate and an opportunity may vanish to never be seen again. Do you kiss him? Is that how it works? Or is this a matter of “kissing on the first date”, treated like a taboo?

More so, what happens next? After the kiss?

His eyes flicker upward to yours, lacking that boy-ish, charming smile he usually dons. Instead, he’s serious, calm. Then to your lips, like the melody of a slow song, flickering with the dips and pitches of the rhythm.

Leaning in, you can’t help but comply, and every thought within your mind numbs into nothingness—

Beeep!

A sharp, acrid stench makes your nose burn, face transforming into both realization and panic upon witnessing the tendrils of smoke curling from the oven.

“Shit!”

And after frantically racing to salvage what little remained of the cookies while Chris furiously fanned the smoke detector, your “date night” turned into a shared glance, laughter, and the both of you trudging to his bed for the night, leaving the remaining bit of Love Actually for another day.

So no, rest assured you didn’t kiss him on the first date.

Maybe tomorrow.

December 22nd.

Y’know how Chris mentioned going out into the snow “one of these days?”.

That day was today, apparently.

“You don’t get it I’ll slip-“

“But you can hold onto me, yeah?” He laughs, squeaky still. Gloved hands find purchase on your hips, gently easing you forward where your back rests to his chest. His right hand shifts upward to rest against your spine, a feeling you have to swallow down wallowing in your stomach.

“Slow steps, I won’t let go.”

Don’t ever, you wish to say. Don’t ever let me go.

And not to keep me from slipping.

Maybe if you were ice skating or slow dancing this would be romantic, but the ugly, waddling manner you make down ice-coated stairs kills off any hope for swooning.

That is, until you do slip, and the man is a fraction too slow until you’re flat on your bum outside his apartment complex, heated from both annoyance and the knowledge far too many embarrassing pictures have been added to his camera roll just now.

In which.. a wonky, slightly-melting snowman comes to be not long afterward, neither of you willing to admit your creation is not “creative”, but horridly unsightly.

“I love it!”

Of course he does. Random pipes substituting as two arms and a carrot nose while Han’s fedora from 2016 awkwardly sits atop a head disproportionate from its body.

Your second date ideas offered a galaxy of possibilities, but after awakening late and coffee’s failure to open your eyes further than half-lidded, you figured today would mimic yesterday as a day spent at home.

He’d get some assignments done in the evening, and you’d probably turn on another Christmas movie while waiting to finish Love Actually in his company later on.

“We should come up with a name,” Nodding proudly at the aforementioned abomination, you cross your arms across your chest, your partner in crime brainstorming in a seriousness practically comical to the situation at hand.

“Hm.. something happy! I mean, look at his face, it’s happy, isn’t it?”

Mind you, cold, visibly dead extra coat-buttons are what stares back at you as its “eyes”, and you easily nod in feigned agreement as he takes ceaseless pictures of the thing with obvious delight, likely to send to friends and family alike.

The bottom snowball is melting, and a pipe has already fallen off what was supposed to be its arm, but Chris is beaming, and you'd rather slice off your own tongue than keep him from enjoying this moment.

Happy.

You feel as if you’d do anything in the world to see him smile.

“Eh? Who’s that?”

5pm, and you’ll probably have to pummel the door open in the morning thanks to the blizzard-like conditions outside.

Among plenty of assignments he told himself he’d fret over in the evening, an unfinished paper sits in front of Chris while his thumbs twiddle along the keyboard of his phone, your chin hooked to his shoulder to glance down at the device—a habit of yours he finds himself unreasonably fond of.

Changbin came home early from the live-house, with most events cancelled from the cold and too little work to be done, there was no need to keep workers around. Dinner beckoned conversation and knowing glances from the roommate whenever you and Chris spoke, earning a scolding scowl while he simply grinned innocently in reply.

It seemed your love was obvious to everyone but you two. How tragic.

Though, amidst photos of both your earlier wipeout (a matter you don’t mention) and snapshots of the snowman he’s currently trying to send while seated at his desk, a certain name within the text catches your attention:

Mister Sunshine.

Chris chuckles sheepishly, your brows lifting in silent inquisition.

“It’s.. the snowman’s name. I named him.” He murmurs, the back of his neck doused pink. A facet of his embarrassment.

He named the snowman Mister Sunshine.

That smile of his making an additional appearance lies responsible for an internal scream to ring throughout your body, deafening your brain despite an external silence.

And in that moment, your feelings become harder to ignore than ever.

December 23rd.

“You should get all pretty today.”

Your attention, once drawn to the different kinds of cookie-cutter molds, flickers up to him when he speaks.

As it always does, hanging onto his every word as if fearful there’d be a day you couldn’t.

Quizzically does your head tip in confusion, spurring the heat blooming by the back of his neck all the way up to flushed ears.

He waves quick hands, having been eyeing through the assortment of donuts Changbin brought home last night after his “buy one get one free sale” turned into buying a dozen at the shop by the live-house.

“I mean, ‘s not like you aren’t pretty every day, but- y’know- like—“

It feels cruel letting him futilely try explaining, but gosh is he too cute.

And hearing him call you pretty feels too good to end abruptly.

It also makes you wonder what happened to the smug-grin-wearing, playful person he could become at times. The one so confident and sure, now rosy.

An alter-ego sounded too far-fetched most days, but as for today… fairly accurate.

“What I meant is,” Turning, Chris extends the mug of coffee your way, heated glass warming your palms as you take it.

A part to your shared daily occurrences, routine.

“I want to take you out tonight. We can go window shopping, see decorations, yeah?”

Perhaps the steam of your cup is what warms your cheeks, and very quickly do you come to recall you’re the one making him wait.

He was willing to go all in from the start. And then you feel even crueler.

“Okay, tell me when to start getting ready.”

But you nod and pretend, because maybe you’re good at staving down things you know will come up anyway.

He’d always chided your procrastination.

Too long have you spent burning holes in your mirror with each scrutinizing glare, and the longer you stare, the worse what’s reflected becomes.

Chris had sent a small text proposing a forty minute window before heading out, in which ensued your frantic scouring around your room for both an outfit and coordinating accessories.

Sure, you may have known the guy since your ugliest years, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t fun to spend some extra time on yourself, right?

Your third of five dates, and you should be bouncing up and down with cheerfulness, looking forward to “getting all pretty”, dolling up for an evening with your favorite person, your best friend. And, come recent days, your admitted love interest.

But you aren’t. You don’t feel cheerful, ecstatic.

And walking out to his awestruck form doesn’t feel revitalizing, and sure as hell far from a confidence boost.

“You look.. wow.” He gapes, drinking in every article of clothing, the way you’ve got the prettiest of ribbons in your hair a crimson red, your cute socks and warm sweater.

An angel, he wants to say. That, along with many things you’d slap him on the shoulder for speaking aloud.

Worst of all? He knows your tell-tale signs in and out.

“Hey.”

His face seems to melt. Like crying, and it makes you want to cry. The sad, tiny crease of his brows, the puff of his bottom lip.

Worried.

“But, I mean,” Your voice chokes up, and you hate every bit of it, the emotions compiling to the surface—ones impossible to stave down.

You don’t feel nice. Putting on an outfit you both liked and thought you looked good in, fixing up your makeup, the little accessories to compliment certain colors, elements.

Yet, your heart still sunk when looking in the mirror, and now, looking at Chris, it feels like all that confidence is beginning to melt—salt sprinkled on the snow of the driveway.

Greater than that, it frustrates you. It isn’t his fault he’s attractive; beautiful, even, but every second by his side feels akin to a blazing inferiority, causing the already-chilled, flushed fingertips of yours to burn, your ears to grow unusually warm.

Like a child.

How irritating.

“Hey,”

His voice, like honey and pastries and all the bestest, warmest things when in need of comfort.

“Look at me, sweetheart.”

The endearment isn’t teasing this time, not even in the slightest. It’s soft and delicate, an ornate vase constructed of glass, capable of breaking from a mere breath.

Standing outside his apartment, snow dappling the sky in endless flurries, it’s only you two in the world.

Your lip wobbles, but Chris always catches you before you fall.

“I’m the man honored to walk around with you tonight, hm?” He starts, thumbing away bubbling tears from your cheeks.

“You look too pretty for these tears, ‘don’t want to mess up your makeup now do we?” He cracks a feeble smile, smoothing down your brows and adjusting your scarf with utmost care from his mitten-clad fingers.

“Ah,” His face lights up with recognition. “You added the glittery eyeshadow.”

You can’t help but crack a laugh. Pitifully croaked, but there no less.

First day of high school and you’d shown up with a downright awful amount of glittery eyeshadow, looking similar to a human-disco ball with the sheer amount alone.

Chris, ever the kind soul knowing you since birth, gave you a two thumbs up, a tight smile, and a “looks great!” that’s lived as one of your best inside jokes even now.

Luckily, this time around the amount is agreeable, just above your lashes and shimmering avidly beneath falling snow.

“I did,” You whisper softly, gaze fluttering down to your shoes before flickering back up to him. “And um.. is it true? That..”

Oh this is embarrassing.

“I look okay?”

Perhaps if he says it, tonight you can believe it’s true.

This time he breaks your heart, with such a heart-wrenching smile on his face.

“You always look beautiful, ‘doesn’t matter how much you think you’re not, you’ll never be able to change my mind. Now let me take you out, yeah? ‘Can grab some hot chocolate,” He ushers, winding your arm to link with his as you make forward, his black trench coat swaying with the click of dress shoes, chilly nose finding sanctuary in a ruby-red scarf wrapped around his shoulders.

Beneath the streetlights and dark skies, Chris could be a prince if he so wished.

That’s another thing you can believe is true tonight.

Curious eyes of awaiting children and scolding mothers litter the streets, tiny fingers pointing to toys through the glass, busied chatter and shared affection blooming within a once blue atmosphere, now dappled in ribbons of color.

The transition from monochrome, like shutters of an old camera capturing technicolor for the first time.

Or maybe Chris was the one responsible for each flourish of color, painting your world the prettiest of hues.

“Do you remember it?”

His voice, honeyed, accompanied by a plume of air in requite of a warm exhale evokes a skip to your step, catching your footing on the stone sidewalk with an awkward clearing to your throat.

“The things you used to want for Christmas?” He continues, and you chose to ignore the knowing smile on his face, gaze shifting upward in hopes of recollection, to no avail.

“Hm.. Do you?” Quietly offered, a change in attention grants you momentary escape from the spotlight.

Well, before it truly does become momentary.

He never has been embarrassed easily, you’d like to add. A matter speaking for itself in the way he automatically clings to your side in response, swaying back and forth whilst singing along to Mariah Carey’s “All I Want For Christmas Is You” you didn’t realize was blaring through overhead speakers above passing until this moment.

Predictably, he earns the bemused grins of passerby and your face (as an individual who does in fact get embarrassed easily, to your own dismay) growing fifty shades of crimson.

“Yah! Quit!” Though your efforts are as futile as your voice and it’s involuntarily chortled-ness, you smack at his hand no less.

Of course, he persists.

Until the sharp turn to a small, annually appearing hot chocolate truck ceases your complaining and his singing in synonymous tandem.

An array of memories come washing across you with each gust of winter wind, and you can practically hear the manner of squeakiness his voice used to be, the foam from whipped-cream topped cocoa sitting atop his top lip like a mustache. You’d always laugh at that.

When you burnt your tongue one year after the beverage was too hot and he remained resilient in his belief you could and would taste Christmas dinner.

You did not, but it was worth a try. Also worth seeing his big, hopeful eyes peek up at you excitedly.

Back then he was always shorter than you, until that fateful day in High school he arrived with a far taller stature than the pipsqueak you knew of most days.

A lot has changed since then. In more ways than one.

Seems his memory remains as sharp as ever, evident in the gentle squeeze he gives your hand—his you hadn’t even noticed was held in your own up till now.

“Get some, hm? My treat.” He quickly urges, watching you pad forward like a child to admire the menu in adoration, waving to the old woman you’d known since a child, always manning her tiny miracle of a truck.

He would keep the fact he’d looked up the hours the truck would be in town to himself. That, along with the tiny heart drawn on the side of the cardboard coffee sleeve you had yet to acknowledge, one he discovers is the old woman’s doing, her knowing smile matching his own when he looks up for silent clarification.

Encouragement.

Go for it.

He feels his palms grow clammy, internally thankful you weren’t holding hands at the moment(which was enough of a heart-attack inducing experience in itself).

The trace of lipgloss on the rim of your cup, the batting of those precious eyes.

Worst is, you don’t even know what you do. The little things compiling into something downright torturous.

And when you look up at him for that split second, his breath catches.

Ah.

He wants to kiss you.

From the scrunch of your nose when you begin to laugh to the snowflakes already dappling your lashes.

Because loving you is easy, and then it’s not. Over and over again. He’s afraid, but his mind is fuzzy and jumbled with feelings, and that small bit of melted marshmallow on your bottom lip he finds himself longing to taste. Lick up the sweetness and sink his teeth into the plush skin–

The tiniest drop of hot chocolate clings to your lips, and Chris wonders if you’d taste like it too.

December 24th.

“Hm?” His hum of confusion falls upon deaf ears, too preoccupied with a call from your mom to take note.

Something must’ve piqued his attention, though you’d have half the mind to guess what.

That is until hanging up, and curious brown eyes boring into your skull from afar transform into this itch you can’t ignore.

“Chris.”

Like an annoying older brother, he is sometimes.

Then there’s that sheepish sort of sound, the “i-got-caught” giggle testing your annoyed facade.

“Hey now,” He begins after a moment, pointing an incredulous finger your way like you’ve said something outrageous, looking like some perplexed old man whilst running a hand through his hair in an odd, cheap rendition of exasperation.

He looks more like he’s choking, but you give full points for effort.

“You haven’t put up your tree or anything? What are you, the grinch?”

Oh, so that’s what this is about.

For context, your conversation minutes prior with your mother consisted of the formalities: “How are you? Eating well? Sleeping well?” which turned into the personal portions: “Classes? Boyfriends?”

As for the last question, you’d keep her posted.

But what seemed to grab his attention most was the additional part where you not-so-discreetly told her you likely wouldn’t bother putting up decorations in your own place this year.

Granted, you spent most days at Chris’s anyway, Christmas as well. Why not skip the hassle to freeload?

Also, you weren’t aware this was chastising season, Mr. Bahng.

“You’re serious?”

Nope. All a joke, every bit.

“…I usually just stay here anyway..?”

Which was true! He knows this!

“Nuh-uh, ‘s gotta change. What if one year I go overseas to visit family and you’re here alone?”

Horribly fast, your stomach sinks, and you’re hasty to scorn the sensation.

This fear, innate and uncontrollable. That on a certain season, you won’t have that certain someone to spend it with.

I won’t, you want to say; treat the words like some totally unrealistic joke, treat his argument like a fable.

The clapping of his hands wards you from your incomprehensible nightmare.

“Alright! Let’s go! We’re decorating your place!”

This year at least, he’ll be by your side.

So you nod, as you do to most things concerning Christopher Bahng.

Love makes a person so.. strange, does it not?

Maybe that’s just you. Or him, or all of it. Who knows.

Crunching of white sheets beneath your feet keep your head from falling astray, as if dancing atop dove feathers amidst your trek to the car.

Too many thoughts, too many questions likely to be left unanswered.

The moon, in her full, glowing glory blinks down from above as a feeble solace.

Of the most beautiful of love stories. For when her lover, Sun, grows tired of arduous laboring in the day, she will arrive to establish her night so that Sun may rest for another day. A night of waiting for the one most beloved to her.

It reminds you quite a bit of yourself, oddly enough, as frosted fingertips shuffle beneath your legs to bask in the passenger seat’s seat heater as a source of warmth.

Each exhale fogs up the windows as the engine rumbles to life, and it’s a wonder you didn’t have to scrape off ice beforehand.

“Mm, in Australia it’d be so warm since ‘was summer, even on Christmas Eve. I remember one year ‘got the chance to get out there during the Holidays. Jisung sent me a text saying it was four degrees celsius in Korea and he was wearing three jackets. Meanwhile, I was outside in a tank top with Berry in twenty-seven.”

His eyes adorn the same sweet crinkle of happiness, ring-clad index tapping an inaudible beat where it rests on your knee, the other finding purchase on the steering wheel as you continue onward through late-December snowflakes.

He lights up your world without even trying. His smile, his excited talking. The way his words grow shorter and shorter the more excited he is to explain something.

Nerd.

You love every second of it.

“And what I said about Australia earlier.” Chris begins quietly, sparing you a glimpse. His palm squeezes your knee gently, and you want to shout, jump, do something to alleviate the scream wishing to claw from your throat in reply.

Since when have you become so susceptible, so easy?

Simple. Since you fell in love.

Or, more like when you realized you were in love.

This was nothing new, after all.

“You wouldn’t be alone here over the holidays. I’d take you with me.” His eyes squeeze shut momentarily in thought, tone this quieted whisper you have to crane to discern.

“Back in October, during my birthday. Do you know what my wish was?”

A wordless look of wonder urges him on, thumb smoothing along your skin in a tender rhythm, never to break.

“One of these days, I’ll take you to Australia with me. Home with me.”

“So my first love can meet my last love.”

The second portion is barely intelligible, as if it were a mere whisper in the night.

You wonder if it was a figment of your imagination.

Nevertheless, the less-than-inviting (compared to Chris’s), pale glow of your flat’s porch light eventually comes into view, and either of you clamber from car doors with evident struggle—abundant layers against the chill making for an awkward toddle to your snow-muddled doorstep.

Quick to retrieve the boxes from your attic, the both of you get to work. Chris frets over shoveling snow from your front porch, and you set to Christmas-ifying the interior.

It’s domestic, almost. His humming from the front door to songs playing on the speaker inside, the slow transition from your usual flat to a festive explosion.

Then, of course, the tree.

In which you awkwardly shift your weight from foot to foot while awaiting his assistance, only for you to make eye contact and want to shrivel into a ball and never come out.

Again, shy. It’s bizarre.

“Hm.. You wanna put up the star?”

After far too long trying to figure out the logistics, a makeshift (albeit lopsided) tree resides in your living space, a few ornaments here and there clothing the sad excuse for a normally grand view.

But it’s yours, together.

You think with that knowledge alone it could’ve been a single sprout and would have been your world all the same.

His traces, everywhere. Both of your hands clutching onto each one you can grasp.

However, spontaneity comes back to haunt you. This time in the form of his hands curling around your hips, giving you a chaste countdown before you’re lifted up to place the star on the very top.

Good luck not having a heart attack, huh.

Miraculously, you don’t. Neither do you combust or squeal or any of the wild thoughts racing through murky depths of your brain.

Instead, you’re placed on the ground once more, his index and thumb taking the side of your top to gently adjust back down where it had ridden up.

Like a gentleman.

Shoot.

He makes it hard, doesn’t he?

Leaning to prop his chin on your shoulder while you admire the twinkling lights, you’d like to believe it was a hallucination that he pressed the most imperceptible, tiniest peck to the clothed junction of your neck and shoulder before pulling away.

“C’mere,” His words fall a near murmur, having to lightly tug at your wrist to truly garner your undivided attention without blood rushing to your face.

As for him, he simply had to pull you from the tree for the sake of his own wellbeing, the sight of warm lights reflecting in eyes he’d easily get lost in making each swallow harder to manage.

That, and there was.. a surprise of a sort. The sweep of a hand on the way out from his apartment, the fretful (clumsy) fastening of this so-called surprise under the guise he was clearing your porch.

Which he was, respectfully.

Just with a little something extra involved.

Nonetheless, oblivious to his plan, you follow along, anticipating some sad copy of Mister Sunshine to be made from fallen pine needles and buttons.

So when he points upwards, nothing short of a roller coaster occurs in your chest.

A spider, a roach, something scary—

A mistletoe.

Right above your head.

He’s got this giddy, nervous grin wobbling on plush lips, eyes searching yours like some little boy seeking a reaction. And you feel like you’re staring at elementary schooler Chris all over again.

At his cheery face knowing he’d be getting ice cream on the way home, when you lied about being able to taste Christmas dinner with a burnt tongue.

A single lightbulb flickers orange, illuminating the mistletoe residing just beside.

Finally not-burnt cookies sit in their container back at his apartment, Love Actually long since completed. Your snowman, named Mister Sunshine, occupies the complex’s front walkway, and too many mugs of hot chocolate have been downed these past few days to count.

When your own place gets lonely, a tree you had put up together keeps you company, so that those nights alone this winter won’t be so cold.

“Can I..?”

Chilled temperatures nip at your nose, and you feel like crying listening to the softened manner he asks, the tentativeness in the way his hand reaches to cup your cheek.

The sound is more like a plea, and you’d be beyond embarrassed if it was anyone but Chris.

“Please.”

And beneath that mentioned mistletoe, Chris kisses you for the first time, and December 25th makes its slow approach above the horizon.

When becoming more grows scary, Chris holds your hand to remind you there’s nothing he won’t step into with you. No matter the doubt, the fear.

It seems this winter you won’t be lonely. Because you won’t be spending this Christmas alone, nor many to come.

He’ll make sure of that.

One day till Christmas, four dates till you told him you felt the same.

You never got to five anyway.

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