#ft a friend!! no not the asshole sitting on my car
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bander28 · 7 months ago
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hornychristianprincess · 5 months ago
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wasted (leehan x fem reader) FINAL
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paring: leehan x fem reader, ft. taesan genre: smut, fluff, angst, fuckboy!leehan word count: 15k summary: finally confessing your feelings to leehan leads to a reaction you could have never prepared for. warnings: unwanted sexual advances (NOT from leehan), explicit [consensual] sex scenes, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it b4 you tap it ppl) read on ao3 if you please by clicking HERE.
“Jaehyun, you have a lot of friends, right?” asks Leehan when he and his roommate are relaxing in their shared living room, doing homework. “Do you know anyone who works in the tutoring office? Blonde streak of hair?”
It’s the only attributes he can remember about the guy he saw you entering your room with only a few days ago, noticing the blue tutoring office logo on the chest of his polo shirt and the distinctive stripe of color in the middle his head. 
“Oh yeah, I think you’re talking about Taesan,” says Jaehyun, who luckily isn’t paying attention enough to his roommate to notice how he perks up at just the name. “Why?”
Even Leehan himself isn’t exactly sure why he cares so much. 
It’s hypocritical at best and gross at worst to think that you have any less of a right to screw around than he does. 
But whether it's his innate territoriality coming into play or the fact that he’s upset it wasn’t him at your side instead, he can’t help but see you differently after what he saw.
“I saw him with some girl I was fucking. Sexual partners are like cars – You don’t want one everyone gets to use, you know?”
Jaehyun, who had up until this point been lying on the floor and playing idly with his Nintendo switch, sits up to look at Leehan. “You’re not talking about Y/N, are you?”
The first thought that comes to a surprised Leehan’s mind is what he said to have tipped Jaehyun off. Failing to think of any divertive lie, he decides there’s no harm in Jaehyun knowing, only wondering, “How’d you find out?”
“I saw her going into your room the night of my Halloween party,”  he explains reasonably, before his voice and facial expression turn suddenly serious. “You shouldn’t talk about her like that. She’s going through a lot right now. She just failed all of her midterms and she might get kicked out of school.”
“Wait, really?” asks Leehan, who is hit with a sudden pang of deja vu as if he’s heard this before but doesn’t remember from where. 
And then, it’s with a sudden and strong surge of embarrassment that he remembers the moment when he was feeling horny and decided to send you a dick pic, pressing the little blue arrow after only briefly glancing at the above messages.
“Oh shit. I think she told me that.”
Jaehyun laughs jeeringly, the resentful sound of which brings Leehan out of his own spiraling thoughts. “You’re an asshole, man,” he asserts, saying it in a way that’s so casual it’s as if it’s just a known fact. 
Not an insult or a compliment, but simply a thing that’s true. 
And somehow, the neutrality of it hurts worse. 
“No offense, but I totally hope she forgets she ever met you.”
Hit by the irony of such cruel words being preceded by no offense, Leehan becomes sarcastic to avoid having to express the true hurt of being told that. “None taken. That seriously wasn’t offensive at all, Jaehyun.”
Maybe Jaehyun is right. After working so hard to emphasize the line between being fuckbuddies and being in a relationship, yet still finding himself acting the exact way he feared you would, isn’t asshole the only way to truly express how shitty he’s being about this? 
It’s at that moment that Leehan considers that perhaps this relationship between the two of you has spiraled out of control. 
Because something that should be inherently easy and casual has now caused him far too much regret and remorse for his liking.
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Sitting in an empty classroom with Taesan, you share a cup of bubble tea, the drinking of which causes you to bump hands several times as you reach out to grab it at the same time. 
Interacting with Taesan always brings up sweet and innocent feelings that are like that of childhood crushes, or chasing fireflies on your lawn after dark. 
Fall break has long been over and yet you continue to meet with him even outside of your mandatory weekly check-ins, forgetting the anxiety that once plagued you over this arrangement. 
The time you spend with Taesan is so fulfilling that you’ve managed to completely forget that Leehan hasn’t contacted you in almost a week. 
Well, maybe not completely. 
You still wonder from time to time what he’s thinking, if maybe he read the text message you sent prior to his dick pic and internalized the part where you emphasized how you wouldn’t have time for him anymore.
There is of course a tiny part of you that feels empty and abandoned at the idea of him ghosting you and never talking to you again.
But it’s in a stroke of optimism, feigned or otherwise, that you decide to pour your attention into someone who feels like a much better match for you, that someone being Taesan.
“I’m just about to finish with this assignment. After I’m done, do you wanna go to the caf?” you mumble out in inquiry to Taesan as you check over your quiz answers for the last time before submitting. 
You hear him make a noncommittal noise in response, which you first interpret as disinterest, but only seconds later recognize to be absent-mindedness as you feel his eyes warming the side of your face. 
You let out a chuckle, just about to say something teasing to him for being caught staring at you when a few warm fingers glide across your ear. Taken aback, you meet Taesan’s gaze as he tucks away a piece of your stray hair. 
“Are you okay?” he asks softly, holding your face in his hand. “You have this…faraway look in your eyes.”
Your eyes dart between his face and his hand that’s slow to come off of your ear, surprised by the sudden bit of physical contact.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” you answer calmly if maybe a bit shakily, trying to appear normal though your head screams with a million passing thoughts at once. Taesan nods in acceptance of this answer before turning back to his laptop as if nothing happened. 
If you were at all a gambling person, you’d bet good money that the telltale, suave move of tucking your hair behind your ear was a way for him to see how you’d react to something less platanotic from him. 
And if you were to allow this moment to pass by without saying anything, you know that he would follow your lead and pretend like this never happened. He’d use your silence as evidence that his advances are unwelcome. 
Perhaps you’re feeling a little bold, but you don’t want him to go any longer thinking that his interest isn’t reciprocated.
“Wait,” you remark, reaching out to grab Taesan’s wrist. “Taesan, can I kiss you?”
The usually mysterious, confident boy loses his ability to speak when you ask him that, eyes going wide and only nodding to communicate his consent. Finding his sudden shyness charming, you smile as you lean in to press your lips against his. 
Taesan’s mouth is just as inviting as you thought it would be all the times you spent staring at it when you were sure he wasn’t looking. He may have acted shy just now, but the way that Taesan kisses you is like fire. He presses his mouth hard against yours, and when his body does the same you soon find yourself pressed into the rolling chair you’re sitting in.
Your hand moves up to tangle in his hair, pulling him in to deepen the kiss. You were sure that Taesan, ever the responsible one, would be the person between the two of you to pull away before things got too heated. 
But now, all he does is lean in to your provocations, sticking his tongue into your mouth while you whimper against his. 
And as you try to allow your brain to white out so that you can truly relax into the gratification he is sure to give you, all you can think about is how his lips are not Leehan’s lips.
His hands are not Leehan’s hands. 
His kiss doesn’t evoke even a fraction of the electricity that Leehan does just by looking at you. 
You accept then that self-preservation must be a confounding myth to your psyche, because against all odds, you are still very much into Leehan. 
And while you could easily fuck Taesan anyway and let the enjoyment of his sex prove as a temporary salve to the gaping wound that is your feelings for Leehan, you feel too much like he doesn’t deserve to fuck someone with such selfish intentions. 
So, it’s with both regret and sobering understanding that you pull Taesan away from you, lines of spit breaking into drool as you separate.
The two of you become temporarily frozen in a moment of both confusion and shock. Taesan, looking at you with widened eyes and reddened lips, asks in a small yet urgent voice, “What? Is something wrong?”
You already feel like a piece of shit as you loosen your grip on Taesan’s hair, letting your hands fall to your lap and noticing that his still rest on your waist. “Taesan…” you begin, and already at just the sound of his name, you can see his expression wilting, like he knows by the unsure tone of your voice exactly what you’re going to say. And how couldn’t he, when you suck so badly at giving bad news?
“I think you’re an amazing person. And believe me when I say I really, really wanted this between us,” you emphasize, wishing you could get swallowed up by a hole as he continues to stare at you in dumbfounded awe. 
You know that these aren't words anyone wants to hear but you feel compelled to say them, feeling like Taesan deserves honesty from you.
“To be completely candid with you, the reason why I’m on academic probation is because of a guy. A recent guy who treated me like shit, but because I’m an idiot, I still want him.”
You wait on edge for the moment when Taesan’s disposition will return to that of the understanding, kind person you’ve come to know, the moment when you’ll both laugh at the awkwardness of this situation and allow yourselves to forget it ever happened.
Instead, though, all you see in Taesan’s eyes is a fiery passion that makes your head hurt as you realize he won’t let this rejection go down easily. 
“You know that doesn’t matter to me right? We don’t have to…be all romantic, and shit. I’m fine with something casual. Happier with that, even.”
It’s with a pang of insecurity that you fight back a self-pitying laugh at those words, wondering what it is about you that makes men only want casual, no-strings-attached relationships with you. 
“I’m sorry for making things awkward. And if you don’t want to tutor me anymore after this, I’d completely understand,” you concede in the nicest possible tone you can muster, still incredibly conscious of Taesan’s hands that have still not left your waist. “But I can’t do this, Taesan. You’re amazing but I just…I can’t, okay?”
When Taesan continues to stare at you as if he isn’t comprehending a word that’s coming out of your mouth, you reach down to move his hands off of your waist yourself, and when you do,  you’re shocked when you feel his fingers seizing around your wrists to hold them in place. 
“You’re being ridiculous, Y/N. So what if you’re not over your ex? That shouldn’t stop you from getting your rocks off,” he says, voice rising considerably as he squeezes your wrists so harshly it begins to hurt. 
It’s at this moment that you realize you’ll never be able to look at Taesan the same again. 
No longer the sweet, kind and helpful boy you first met, he looks pathetic and at worst, scary as he continues to refuse your rejection.
“Taesan, I’m really gonna need you to let go of me,” you request, saying it without any niceties as you manage to convince yourself that maybe he’s just taking this extra hard for whatever reason and just needs to hear you being serious so that he can come to his senses. “Listen, how about we end early for today and talk about this another time–”
“I’m not letting you leave until you can look me in my eyes and give me one good reason why we shouldn’t do this,” he asserts, still holding your wrists, laughing a little in a way that makes it hard for you to tell if he knows that he’s making you uncomfortable or thinks that this is all just some game of hard-to-get. “You can act coy all you want but I know you want me, I could tell as soon as I met you.”
“I’m gonna tell you to let go of me one more time, Taesan, and then I start screaming,” you threaten, no longer feeling amused or pitiful but instead angry, adrenaline running through your veins as you consider the possibility of having to physically attack him. 
You’re not sure how things escalated so quickly but now you’re quickly regretting ever befriending Han Taesan in the first place, ever thinking that he could be a permanent fixture in your life.
Catching you by surprise, Taesan stands up suddenly from his chair and drags you up with him. It’s in a flurry of movements that he somehow manages to pin you against a wall, smirking down at you from above. 
You let out a squeal but he covers your mouth, strong enough to use only one of his hands to keep your arms pinned above your head. He laughs as you struggle against him, perhaps not realizing – or worse, realizing it and getting off on how deeply he’s managed to scare you.
“What?” he asks through upturned lips, pressing his body into yours. “Don’t girls like it when guys don’t take no for an answer?”
It’s in the strangest and most serendipitous stroke of luck that you hear the sound of the classroom door swinging open.
And when you turn your head to meet the gaze of your savior, it’s Leehan who you see standing there, taking in the scene in front of him. 
It feels stupid and random that of course it’s Leehan who just happened to be the person to walk in here, but you don’t dwell too much on the details, focused on the relief that floods through you knowing there’s someone here to intervene on your behalf. 
Leehan hesitates momentarily as he wonders if he’s just had the misfortune to accidentally walk in on the kinky foreplay between you and this new guy you’ve been seeing. Attending a lecture in this same building, he happened to walk by the classroom and hear a distressed voice that sounded vaguely familiar. 
Through the fogged glass material of the door, he could just barely make out your silhouette, instinctually barging in to see what was going on. 
If Leehan didn’t know you so well, he might’ve immediately bolted at the sight of you engaging in intimacy with someone else. It would be too much and he knows it would force him to confront his conflicting feelings towards you.
But the moment he meets your gaze and sees the steely, ice cold fear that’s in your eyes, his next moves are made clear. Without questioning anything, he steps forward and punches an already staggering Taesan in the face.
The punch causes Taesan to fall backward, blood that you aren’t sure is coming from his lip or his nose splattering onto the floor. You and Leehan remain frozen, you in shock at both Taesan’s actions and Leehan’s sudden presence, and Leehan with the adrenaline of becoming unexpectedly violent. 
It’s in that moment of stillness on both of your parts that Taesan has time to recover, and before you can react, he’s leaping forward to tackle Leehan onto a nearby desk.
You let out a squeal of shock as the two men struggle, causing desks and their chairs to fly around the room haphazardly in the process.
And to your horror, Taesan quickly gets the upper hand over Leehan, sitting on top of the shorter boy in a straddling position before letting his hands fly in a series of devastating punches. 
You go to pull him off but he pushes you away, forcing you then to search frantically for your phone in the hopes of calling campus security before Leehan is pulverized any further.
“Hey, is something going o—” you hear an unfamiliar voice ask, and you look up to find that you’ve been discovered by a complete stranger, a boy who you assume is another student by his shaggy attire and backpack. He answers his own question by glancing into the room and catching sight of Taesan and Leehan who are both now bleeding as they remain wrestling on the floor.
You’re just about to enlist the stranger to help you in dragging Taesan off of Leehan when, suddenly, you don’t have to. 
Realizing that the stranger’s presence could mean that even more people could arrive to inspect what’s causing all of this noise any second, you watch as the fear of getting in trouble overtakes Taesan’s expression until he’s getting up. 
He gets up and sprints out of the classroom wildly, shoulder checking the stranger in the process as he flees out of the building.
“Should I run after him?” asks the student at the door who you’re sure is still processing what he’s just seen. But more than anything else, you’re worried about Leehan, who you just saw taking several punches to the face and is laying down on the ground making strangled, agonized noises.
“No. It’s better that you scared him away. I just need to get him to the infirmary,” you reply, trying to sound more calm and controlled than you feel but hearing how your adrenaline from the past few minute’s events causes your voice to come out shaky and broken. The stranger asks if you need any help but you wave him away, deciding it would be too much of a burden to have to explain what just happened to anyone else. 
So it’s by yourself that you go to hover over Leehan’s body and try to push back the horror of seeing his face bloodied and bruised so that you can help him onto his feet.
And because most of the damage seems to be centralized on his face — maybe his back and head, too, after being tackled onto the ground — he mostly manages to stand up on his own. Though, once on his feet, he has to lean on you to avoid staggering.
“Don’t…let him…go, Y/N,” he mumbles, making you feel even more concerned and on edge as his garbled tone makes it sound like he’s one step away from passing out. “He was…hurting you, wasn’t he?”
“It’s fine, Leehan. Let’s just get you to the infirmary,” you reply dismissively, needing him to be pliant more than anything in this moment so that you can get him to your thankfully close by campus infirmary without issue. 
Your transgression with Taesan with startling and for a brief moment, terrifying. But with him now gone, the majority of your distress lies with Leehan and making sure he’s okay.
And to your relief, as you take a few steps forward with Leehan’s arm leaned over your shoulder, he remains upright and mostly autonomous in his movements.
He continues to say nothing on your way out of the building outside from the occasional groan, and you’re sure that as the adrenaline wears off that the pain in his face must become more present. You luckily make it to the infirmary moments later, where the doctor on call takes one look at Leehan’s face and immediately rushes him into a care room. 
Everything that happens after that is a bit of a blur for you. A campus security officer comes to take a statement from you. You tell him everything, giving him Taesan’s full name and picture in the hopes that it can lead to some type of action, although a part of you feels discouraged and numb at that notion.
You wait anxiously in the lobby of the infirmary, waiting for an update from the doctor and feeling like you’re gonna throw up when the older woman comes out from the hallway with a neutral, unreadable expression on her face.
“Hi ma'am. Your friend is doing just fine. All of the cuts on his face are superficial, so they’ll heal on their own. He’ll have some bruises and swelling, which will also go away with time. He does have a bit of a concussion, so we’ll send you both home with some Tylenol. If you’d like to come and see him, you can follow me.”
Though you figured that most of his injuries were minor, you still feel relieved to hear that nothing is significantly wrong; it’s irrational, but you know you would have been eaten alive with guilt had anything serious happened. 
Getting up to follow the doctor, you walk into the care room to find Leehan sitting on the edge of an examination chair, a nurse still applying little white bandaids to a cut on his cheek. When he sees you come in he smiles, though only fleetingly as the gesture causes him to wince in pain.
You don’t know what to say to him, so you opt to sit down on a chair that’s directly next to his dangling legs. You watch as the nurse goes to prod at a separate wound on his lip with a q-tip dipped in brown liquid. You don’t realize how tense you are until you feel the warmth of a hand over yours, and when you look up, Leehan is staring at you in amusement. 
“You’re shaking,” he observes, and though he can’t smirk without it causing him pain, he still gazes at you in a way that is teasing and smug. And the fact that he’s concerned about you when he’s the one who’s getting medical attention makes you let out a cynical, humorless laugh.
“Don’t worry about me. Look what he did to you.”
“I’m still good-looking, though, aren’t I?” he replies playfully, and because you’re so upset, you feel yourself almost inclined to scold him for making such jokes in light of the circumstances. But Leehan, never one to read the room or adhere to the tones and moods of others, is laughing as he commands, “You have to tell me or I’ll have an internal crisis.”
You stare at him with your eyebrows furrowed, wanting to be annoyed by him but not being able to help your smile as he continues to await your confirmation of his enduring looks with a pout. 
Rolling your eyes, it’s with a bit of resistance in your voice that you reply, “Yes, you’re still handsome, Leehan.”
He pumps his fist up in the air triumphantly, and with that, the nurse leaves the room, telling you that she’ll return with the official paperwork needed so that he can be discharged.
Once she’s gone, it’s quiet between the two of you until Leehan breaks the silence with a question. “That guy…his name’s Taesan, right?”
You’re taken aback, both at the sudden change in his tone and disposition –  his voice now serious and inquiring – and the fact that he even knows who Taesan is. “How do you know?”
“I saw you with him outside of your dorm. Asked Jaehyun who he is,” he responds plainly. And as you take in this information, you’re not sure what to say in reply. Even just knowing that he was outside of your dorm that day when Taesan came to your room and didn’t say anything makes you think he must’ve had some kind of reaction to seeing the two of you together. 
And as you put the timing together, it makes sense why you hadn’t heard from him for a week until now.
But then again, it doesn’t make sense. Because the Leehan you know, the Leehan you’ve come to resent, surely wouldn’t — shouldn't — care to see you with another guy when he’s been so adamant about keeping things non-exclusive between the two of you.
“Are you together?” he asks when you remain silent, and in what feels like a complete switch in power dynamics, you find that Leehan is the one now clearly expressing some kind of worry or at the very least interest in what you get up to when you’re not with him. 
And because you feel both vindicated to be on the other side of this sort of questioning, and not at all entitled to tell him the truth, you answer by asking, “If I said yes, what would you say?”
Leehan looks at you, all amusement absent from his expression even as he says somewhat sarcastically, “That I thought being with me meant you had better taste in men.”
His response causes you to scoff, the idea of him thinking that he’s somehow at a higher caliber than all the other similarly emotionally-unavailable men on your campus something you find absurd. 
And yes, maybe it’s because you’re already feeling a little bitter towards him that you’re then replying scathingly, “If anything, wouldn’t my interest in you mean the opposite?”
“Funny,” he says sardonically in reply. The atmosphere between the two of you currently is tense. He resents you for being with someone else and you resent him for setting boundaries for your relationship that he never intended to follow.
And yet, despite the unresolved negative emotions that are clearly swimming between the two of you, it feels absurd and crazy to say that as you continue to make unbroken and silent eye contact, you feel like he’s about to kiss you. 
That’s the sort of crazy chemistry you seem to have with one another, where even as you both have the rationality to recognize the toxicity of this dynamic you both still find yourselves magnetically pulled to one another in a way that, in most people’s eyes, would be viewed as mindless. 
But it’s just as you swear he’s leaning in that the doctor comes into the room, handing Leehan a clipboard and telling him he can go once he’s finished filling out a few forms. You wait for him, not sure what will happen once you leave but feeling almost responsible to at least see him to his apartment.
And so, you exit the hospital together, and it’s as you’re walking out that you voice to him truthfully, “It feels weird just dropping you off like you didn’t just get your face rearranged trying to save me.”
He lets out a chuckle in response, swinging his body so that he’s standing in front of you before shrugging and saying, “Then don’t drop me off. We could go to your dorm, watch a movie.”
The request to do something as simple as watch a movie sounds so foreign coming out of his mouth that you can’t help but laugh out loud. “When do we ever watch a movie?” you ask, repeating the words in disbelief. 
You’re mostly joking when you ask that, but it’s with a tiny pang of sadness that you acknowledge the tragedy of him wanting your company for something other than sex being something that’s so unbelievable.
“Today. Rocky V is probably ill-timed, but I love a good nature documentary,” he replies with a grin, and as always, you are unable to get a read on his expression to know if he is being serious or not. 
But today has been a crazy day and you know that being in your room by yourself after everything that’s happened is only going to make you feel worse. So, deciding that there’s no harm in keeping him company for just a little while longer, you allow him to lead the way to the building that he’s been to so many times. 
You know from learning your roommate’s schedule that she’ll be in a lab for the next 3 hours, a fact that makes you feel relieved as you enter your dorm with Leehan trailing behind you. He comes in and immediately collapses onto the couch, spreading his arms out on either side of the cushions in a way that brings renewed attention to his broad shoulders.
“So. Do you actually want to watch a movie?” you ask casually as you stand a few feet away from him, trying your hardest to keep any bitterness out of your tone as you watch him shrug his shoulders nonchalantly.
“You know, now that I’m here…” he says, already smirking as he watches you fight the urge to roll your eyes. “It feels like a much better idea for you to come sit on my lap.”
Even though you find yourself enticed by the invitation, in a small, distant part of your brain, it feels like you’ve been manipulated into letting him come to your room. That watching a movie had always been a lie to get you to have sex with him.
But something has changed inside of you, and from what, you can’t pinpoint. All you know is that the accumulations of lies and divertive tactics that you’ve endured from Leehan thus far has left you almost numb to his provocations. 
Instead of feeling sad or shitty or upset, you just feel nothing. 
And somehow, that change feels more concerning to you than the emotions from before did.
Still, you find yourself stalking silently to Leehan on the couch, his eyes never leaving yours as you make your way towards him. His legs spread naturally as you get between them, and it’s with a jaguar-like slowness that you crawl over his body until you’re straddling him. 
Intensity rolls off of the both of your bodies like water, the silence and shared eye contact only contributing to the growing sexual desire that builds between the two of you.
In contrast to such lust, it’s in a gesture of affection that you lean in to lay a gentle, barely-there kiss against all of the wounds on his face. The cut on his cheek. His busted bottom lip. The knot forming on the top of his head. The bruise on the side of his jaw. You do it almost in apology but also because you want him to tease him, giving him only fleeting touches and kisses before you do anything substantial. He flinches at first at the contact but eventually relaxes into the softness of your lips against him. 
And though you couldn’t articulate the reason why, you get the feeling that he flinches less out of pain, but more in surprise at the unfamiliar gesture of tenderness and how it impacts him. 
You’ve only just reached his neck, sucking hickies into the pale skin there, when you can feel his cock hardening underneath you.
It’s after you’ve kissed every single piece of skin uncovered by his shirt that you decide to relieve a bit of his suffering by reaching a hand down into the waistband of his pants. All you do is close your fist around his shaft and stroke him languidly, but you suppose your teasing worked better than you thought as he whimpers at the simplest of movements. He bucks into your hand, not afraid of seeming desperate and shamelessly moaning at your touch. 
Watching him writhe and shudder beneath you, sensitive in a way you’ve never seen before, it wouldn’t be a stretch to say that this is one of the few times that you’ve felt even a semblance of control in your interactions during sex. It’s always been you on the receiving end of his endless repertoire of tactics, designed always to render you incomprehensible and under the thumb of his persuasion.
Spurred on by the observation, you take advantage of his submission to ask a question that’s been on your mind since you left the hospital. 
“Can I ask you something? Why did you ask Jaehyun who I was with?”
You can just barely make out the expression of surprise that appears faintly behind Leehan’s glassy eyes, and in a tactic that even you admit is slightly contemptible, you never stop the movements of your hand as you await his answer. 
Desperate for even a moment’s worth of vulnerability from him, you hope that by literally dangling his climax in your hands that he’ll be more inclined to be truthful with you.
But for Leehan, giving you the honest answer — that he’s simply a jealous person who can’t stand seeing you with someone else even though it’s hypocritical — would only serve in making you think that his jealousy is a sign of caring, his caring a sign of affection, his affection a sign that he wants to be your boyfriend. 
And though that assessment isn’t as easy to refute as it may have once been when he first met you, it seems idiotic to put any ideas in your head that could lead to him having to admit feelings he isn’t quite sure of yet. 
So, in lieu of the truth, he replies with something that, honestly, should be a bigger concern for him than it presently is: “Because you should tell me if you’re being intimate with someone else. What if you’re not using protection and I catch something?” 
Up until now, you had prepared yourself to react calmly to whatever Leehan’s answer would be, a task you knew would be difficult because the idea of him being jealous at all is in itself insane and backwards.
It was he who insisted that this dynamic be free of any constraints or limitations. 
But the fact that he’s implying you would have sex with someone else and be so reckless as to not make any precautions for your health has your composure breaking, a scoff leaving you as you blurt out, “Have you been honest with me about the people you’re seeing?”
It’s a question you already know the answer to as you still haven’t forgotten the night of the Halloween party, how Jaehyun let it slip that Leehan had been on a date. You’d never confronted him about it because, deep down, you felt that you had no right to. 
But now, he’s placing judgment on you in a way that makes you want to throw all caution to the wind and express your true emotions to him for what seems like the first time.
Hearing the knowing tone in your question has Leehan worried, tilting his head to stare at you as if he’s just now seeing you for the first time. “Are you trying to catch me in a lie, Y/N?” he asks, amusement in his tone though you can tell your questioning rattles him. “I’ve never told you anything that wasn’t true.”
But that’s just because you’ve never told me anything of substance, you think to yourself, reflecting back on all of the times he left your room in a hurry so that he could avoid having to show you anything real.
You continue jerking him off intently, and even though he’s obviously enjoying it, you can tell that you’ve thrown him off. During sex you’ve always maintained this sort of scathing, playful banter, but this time, he knows that your question is motivated by a genuine desire to hear the truth from him. It makes him beyond uncomfortable, especially with his dick still hard and aching in your moving hand. In a sudden change of dynamics, it’s him trying to read what you’re thinking.
Seeing this crack in Leehan’s usually guarded persona spurs you on into saying even more things that you’ve been suppressing. “I know that you’re seeing someone else,” you assert, honesty you never thought you’d be capable of expressing coming out boldly and without ambivalence. “Jaehyun told me, the night of the Halloween party.”
Your eyes are glued to Leehan’s face as you scan for the smallest fluctuation in his expression, searching desperately for any indication of what he’s thinking. And in yet another gesture that might as well be a verbal admission of guilt, Leehan stares up at the ceiling to avoid your gaze. 
Leehan – confident, cool, teasing Leehan – who has always made you feel like you were scared of intimacy for not wanting to make eye contact with him during sex, is now the one shying away the intensity of your gaze. 
The feeling of triumph that comes with finally feeling like you have him at your mercy after months of the opposite has you speeding up the movements of your hand, watching as he almost winces from the overstimulation you provide. 
But more than anything else, you want answers. 
You want to know why he thinks it’s okay to police who else you invite into your bedroom when he clearly does whatever he wants without any regard for you. 
You want him to decisively and plainly decide if he’s either a sadistic asshole who believes that he should be able to treat you like shit while he goes out and fucks whoever he wants—Or if, like you, the passion of this relationship has overwhelmed him so much that he now finds himself feeling things for you that are beyond sexual, things that have caused him to abhor the notion of you being with someone other than him.
It feels like you need the answer to that question more than you need air.
And so, it’s in desperation that your voice comes out shaky as you demand, “Say something.” 
“I can’t,” he manages through gritted teeth, the sound of his voice coming out raspy and submissive making your cunt pulse with arousal. “You’re about to make me come.”
Feeling like he’s being backed into a corner, Leehan wants to tell you to stop, but the euphoria he’s experiencing is too great. He’s never seen you be so assertive, so purposeful in doing things that you know will make him go crazy. 
Rubbing your thumb over his tip. Spitting downward so that the wetness of your spit can reach his cock. Stroking him wildly and meeting his thrusts into your fist. 
Pressure builds in his abdomen until he feels himself about to explode with what might be the most intense climax of his life. 
But in a move that shocks the both of you, it’s just as Leehan is about to finish all over your hand that you abruptly pull off of him. 
Stop the movements of your hand and watch brazenly as the realization of what you just did is processed on his face.
Maybe he thought that you were joking and that this was all just some aggressive manner of foreplay. 
But now, he can see in your shocked expression, how you look so surprised at even your own insistence, that to deny him of his pleasure in this way was something that took a lot out of you. 
It’s been a hallmark of your relationship so far for you to devote yourself to his satisfaction. You’ve always cared so much about being wanted by him, even after he’s shown his disregard for you time and time again.
And so to see you work up the courage to defy him in this way makes it clear to him that you’re not gonna drop this.
This isn’t something that he can smile or flirt his way out of in the hopes of having you wrapped around his finger for just one more day.
You’re gonna force this into being an issue. And fine; if you want to have this conversation, he’ll have it.
Even if it means that by the end of this you'll realize how shitty of a person he is and want nothing to do with him afterward.
If you were still the same pliant, conflict-avoiding Y/N, you’d be alarmed at the change in his expression and how his usual amused smirk melts into a straight-lined frown. You’d transform into the bright-eyed, bushy-tailed girl who’d laugh and pretend that this was all just a way to rile him up into fucking you, hoping that you could forget this moment ever happened.
But it feels like something has been lost in your dynamic that can never be brought back. You’re no longer okay with being lied to, manipulated. And Leehan, realizing how serious you are, seeks to take back control of this situation by flipping your bodies over so that you’re on your back and he’s on top of you. 
He pins your arms above your head, holding them down so you can’t move. 
“Don’t ask questions you don’t want to hear the answers to.”
He says the statement with a warning sort of tone but it only makes you laugh, no longer able to take his provocations and vague answers seriously. “Then don’t try to act hypocritical and treat me like I’m a fucking irresponsible idiot,” you retort, no hint of banter in your words as you hope he understands how serious you’re being, how done you are with his lies. “Having sex with guys without protection and not telling them about it. How do I know you haven’t been doing the exact thing you’re accusing me of?”
You ask a valid question that Leehan sees no way to get out of answering. Clearly, you already know (because of his disloyal, talkative fucking roommate) that he’s been seeing at least one girl that isn’t you. And because he can tell with certainty that your pliance is dependent on at least some kind of honesty from him, he tells you a technical truth when he says, “Since I met you, I’ve only been fucking you. No one else. I swear.”
It’s an answer that protects him from having to further delve into whether he’s seeing anyone else romantically, an important distinction that he isn’t interested in clarifying for the sake of your continued interest in him.
And as he watches you scan his face, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you seek to find any indication of either sincerity or hypocrisy in his expression, he seizes the opportunity provided by your momentary lapse in questioning to reach past the waistband of your leggings, sticking two fingers into your pulsing cunt. 
He watches with satisfaction as even in your bitterness, you still can’t help the way your back arches and your mouth parts naturally at the action. Mirroring your tactics from before, he gives you great satisfaction in exchange for your hopeful compliance. Thrusting his long fingers inside of you, he mumbles in sensual truth, “Your pretty, wet pussy is the only thing that’s been occupying my brain for the last three months.”
The part of your brain that would question the credibility of his words is turned off like a lightswitch as the thrill from his fingers takes over. As much as you try to fight off what you’re experiencing so that you can regain the upper hand, it feels like it’s almost in revenge that he fingers you with such vigor that you can’t speak. 
“Can you say the same? Huh, pretty?” he demands, digits angled just right so that the tips of his fingers repeatedly push against your most sensitive parts. “Tell me I’m the only person whose been fucking orgasms into your cunt.”
You could usually appreciate such possessive sentiments from Leehan when they were spoken in moments where there wasn’t any lingering resentment between the two of you. Now, they only annoy you, causing you to petulantly reply in mocking of his earlier words, “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.”
And in a move that is surely in imitation of your earlier actions, he pulls his fingers out of you completely and with them, your orgasm. His expression is a handsome mixture of annoyance and frustration. 
It feels like the two of you are in some sort of scornful, unspoken competition, you trying to get him to be honest and him trying to get you to drop this entirely. And all of this undercut by the fact that both really wanna fuck each other, only adding to the frustration of your pleasure being taken away. 
Though your body reels regretfully from the sudden drop in adrenaline, it’s with an unmoved expression on your face that you sit up, making yourself level with him. 
“What?” you retort derisively, amused to find him upset at tactics you only know because he modeled them for you so many times before. “Does it make you mad?”
“No,” he answers, a fierce expression on his face that lets you know despite the desire radiating between the two of you that he’s being serious when he says, “It makes me question the type of person you are.”
And as you poke his chest assertively, you reply, “A person abiding by the standards that you set,” reminding him once more how he lacks the right to feel entitled to your body. 
You again question why he continues to insist that a no-strings attached arrangement is what he wants when it’s clear he doesn’t want you with anyone else.
And so, it’s in your confusion that you ask, “I’m giving you exactly what you want. So why does it feel like you’re punishing me?”
“This isn’t what I want,” he says in reply. And the way that he says it almost quietly, like a stream-of-consciousness that was accidentally blurted out loud, has you inclined to believe that maybe, he’s finally coming around to seeing just how poorly suited this arrangement is for the both of you.
So, it’s with a curious tilt to your voice that you ask, “Then what do you want?”
Looking at you with a sort of urgent, unyielding expression on his face, it’s after a moment of intense and searing silence between the two of you that he leans in to kiss you roughly. What was once a moment of willful competition between the two of you now becomes intense and panicked as the passion of the last few moments takes over your bodies. 
Your hands move in a frenzy as you rush to take off one another’s clothes, and you get the feeling that had the fabric provided any real obstacle, you both would’ve been willing to rip each other’s pants and tops off. Actualizing your desire for one another becomes the most important and serious task to have ever been endeavored upon.
You’ve only just removed your final article of clothing when Leehan crawls between your legs, finding you soaked and pulsing in anticipation of his touch. Noticing this, he can feel himself going crazy with all of the unanswered questions he has about you and Taesan. He finds himself vocalizing these thoughts shamelessly as he mumbles, “Fuck, Y/N. I need you to be honest with me. Because if someone else has had this pussy, I’m gonna go crazy.”
“Make me come, and I’ll give you a straight answer,” you defiantly reply.
Tired of your games, it’s in expression of his growing impatience that Leehan slaps your pussy uncaringly. The act sends a jolt of shock through your body but especially your clit, making you moan in a mixture of both pain and pleasure. 
“I’m serious, Y/N,” he says, and rather than being amused by his insistence like you were before, it's for the first time that you find yourself intimidated, as well as turned on. “Tell me the truth.”
Leehan has always been the leader in your sexual dynamic, but you’d never describe him as rough or dominant until now. Rattled by the change, you aren’t able to manage a reply to his demand, but it’s then that Leehan raises himself up so that your faces are level. 
Making sure to keep his eyes on yours this time, he pushes three fingers inside of your aching cunt — more than you’ve ever taken from him and enough to have your eyes rolling back upon impact.
“Tell me that this pussy is mine,” he demands as he fucks you open with his fingers. You’ve never seen him this fired-up, this crazed, and it has you more turned on and pliant than you think you’ve ever been before. 
His fingers thrust in and out of you with strength you’ve never felt before, and in an amount of time that you find to be pathetic, you can feel your stomach tensing with an approaching climax, moans leaving your mouth with every breath and every curl of his fingers. 
But for the second time tonight, Leehan notices you’re about to come and rips it away from you by withdrawing his fingers entirely. And unlike before, you can’t pretend not to be dismayed as you whimper wistfully at the loss of contact. Leehan, unamused, only stares at you from above and says with finality in his tone, “Tell me the truth, and I’ll make you come.”
You can see now how serious he’s being, how important this is to him, and though you find it entirely irrational, the pulsing of arousal in your body is too strong to ignore. 
“I never fucked him. He never touched me until today.”
“And anyone else besides him?”
“There’s no one else, Leehan,” you assure him, body wracked with the weight of several heavy breaths as you practically beg for him to believe you, to touch you, to relieve the almost painful aching of your cunt. “Just you.”
You’re pleasantly surprised when he doesn't require any additional scrutiny before accepting your answer at face value, muttering an approving “Good girl,” before diving between your legs.
And you guess by the almost hungry, desperate way he then proceeds to eat you out that his easy acceptance of your word is just as much in service to his own desire to taste you as it is to you and your enjoyment. 
Because you find not just in this instance but always that Leehan gives head like his survival is dependent on your arousal. He licks and sucks and mouths at your clit, moaning languidly into your core like it's the best thing he’s ever tasted. 
And as if that’s not enough to have you reeling, he brings his hand out from underneath your thigh and puts two long, crooked fingers back into your dripping hole, thrusting and curling them inside of you like he’s intent on finding the spot that will make you scream. You throw your head back and close your eyes at the feeling that washes over your body, something like electricity pulsing through you and making your legs shake. 
Without intending it, your hips buck against his tongue in chase of your impending orgasm. And when he flattens the wet muscle, allowing you the agency to take your pleasure rather than him having to give it to you, it’s only seconds later when you feel your abdomen contracting with the intensity of your long awaited orgasm. 
You’ve barely recovered from the high of your climax when you hear Leehan saying tauntingly from above you, “See? No one else can do that as good as I can.” He then spreads your legs apart, admiring the mess he’s made of you, slick turning your inner thighs shiny and wet. ”Don’t you know now why you shouldn’t fuck anyone else?
Refusing him the satisfaction of an answer, your only response is to sit up and tell him, “Lay down. I wanna ride you.
Leehan’s only show of resistance to this request is a raise of his eyebrow, but he’s otherwise pliant as you maneuver on the couch so that he’s flat on his back. You hover just below his hard-as-a-rock erection, realizing you should go and get a condom, but it feels like an ultimate test of both your honesty that you assertively inform him, “I’m on birth control.”
Understanding what you mean to imply with this admission, you watch as Leehan’s eyes gloss over, another wave of lust taking over at the notion of having raw sex. In a distant part of your brain that isn’t completely corrupted by wanting, you wonder if this is a good idea given that you have no way of proving whether he’s been honest about his sexual history with other girls.
But as you unconsciously scoot closer and allow his cock to brush against your folds, his encouragement of “Then sit on it,” ringing pleasantly in your ears, the only thing that delays you is your desire to further tauny him. 
“Look at me,” you command passionately, holding on just barely to your own composure as you fight to get these words out amidst your own lust-corrupted brain. “If you stop, I stop. I want you to look in my eyes when I make you come.”
Leehan, either ignorant to how serious you’re being or uncaring, whimpers out your name in lieu of any indication that he understands and accepts what you’re saying. You sink down on him anyway and allow the feeling of being filled to the brim by his long, veiny cock to wipe out any and all thoughts out of your mind. 
“Oh my god, fuck,” he mumbles out in expression of how good it feels, after you’ve only just began bouncing your body up and down his cock. You bear witness to the moment when the embrace of your tight walls becomes too much for him and he throws his head back, disregarding your words from earlier. 
And although it hurts you to do so, makes your thighs burn and your lips part to let out a regretful whimper, you pull yourself upwards until his cock slips out of you completely.
“Open your eyes,” you demand assertively, not just for his sake but for your own, so that you can go back to riding the life out of him until you both can come. “Show me why you deserve this. Remind me why I keep letting you fuck me.”
The scathing remark and the brazen expression you wear as you say it causes Leehan to regain his focus, returning his gaze to yours and making sure to maintain it even as your reinsertion of his cock has him fighting not to shut his eyes closed. It’s with a feeling of regretful foreboding that Leehan realizes this is probably going to end way too soon, that the sickening combination of you riding him, your dominant and sultry words, the view of your body from above him, and the intense unbroken eye contact all work in service to his quickly approaching climax. 
And even as you too feel yourself inching closer and closer to the point of incomprehensible return, you keep talking, feelings that you’ve been suppressing for too long coming out in sultry, brokenly-spoken expressions. “I want you to savor this moment. Memorize how it feels to be inside of me,” you tell him, and then, leaning down to bite the tip of his ear, you whimper, “Fuck Leehan. You’re so big.”
Your purposeful usage of all the things you know for a fact rile him up the most is not lost on him, and it’s almost like you want him to come as quickly and embarrassingly as possible. He lingers on that thought for less than a few seconds, but even just the fleeting idea of spilling his seed inside of you has his brain entering a whole nother level of depraved and uncontrolled, until he’s muttering out the word “Fuck,” in repeated succession and thrusting up into you wildly. “Gonna come,” he announces only seconds later.
“I know you are, baby. And when you do, remember that I can only make you feel this good,” you reply, surprised at your own ability to sound assured and in control in the midst of your own fast-approaching orgasm. But in a way, it feels like you grow more confident the more you watch his verbal and motor skills deteriorate with every bounce and squeeze of your pussy against his cock. 
Making grunting sounds as his thrusts become sloppy and uncontrolled, he replies through gritted teeth, “I know. You’re my favorite girl, Y/N.”
You’ve always hated that term because of the implication it makes that there are other girls with whom he's comparing you to. But as you commit to fighting off all of the weak, vulnerable, sad emotions that have now only rendered you numb, it’s in another show of control that you reply, “Then say it. Tell me how good I’m making you feel.”
At first, you aren’t sure if Leehan can even manage a reply as you watch him grow focused and intent on his approaching orgasm. But it’s through a mixture of muffled grunts and whines, his hips never ceasing their thrusts into you, that he begins to speak.
“Your pussy was made for me. It’s all I ever think about. The sex we have – nghh – it’s the best I’ve ever had,” he tells you emphatically. 
And the brokenness of his words, the way they come out rushed and passionate as if a suppressed part of him needs you to hear them, has you feeling profoundly impacted by the weight of them. 
“You make me crazy, Y/N. I don’t want anyone else. Only you—” 
It’s with one final rough, definitive thrust that Leehan comes inside of you. You’re overcome by the feeling of his hot, warm cum filling your walls, pussy clenching around him as you too experience another orgasm. And as you both recover from your highs, you can feel the atmosphere becoming almost instantaneously stuffy and awkward, the realization of what just happened and all of the things you allowed to come out in the heat of the moment hitting you all at once.
Wanting nothing more than to be released from the clutches of this regretful moment, you pull yourself off of him and wince at the feeling of his cum dripping out of you and onto your inner thighs, some of it spilling onto the couch. 
And without ceremony, Leehan does what he does best – he gathers his clothes and things and begins to put them on as if nothing happened.
The silence that overcomes the two of you as you sit naked and uncovered on the opposite couch, watching him change, is unlike either of you. You’d usually at the very least manage  a few words about how good that was, or small talk about anything fun happening soon on campus. Had Leehan been any good with silence, he might’ve just walked out and not said anything to you at all. 
But it’s because of his own manipulative and egotistical desire to continue to remain in your good graces that he says, in desperation to ease the tension, “Hey. By the way, I’m sorry about the picture I sent you. I don’t usually read your messages, so I didn’t see what you had sent me beforehand.”
You stare at him, a mixture of disbelief and hostility coming over you all at once.
Having completely forgotten about the dick picture incident until now, you feel the emotions from then coming back up in a way that feels shocking given the relative inoffensiveness of his apology just now.
It’s hard for you to pinpoint what exactly about the statement sets you off. 
Maybe it’s that you just had the most intimate, soul-baring sex, and now he’s basically back to reminding you of just how little he values you and your personhood. 
How easy it is for him to completely ignore anything you say to him if it has nothing to do with him and his own pleasure.
And with these emotions more than likely reflected on your face, you watch as Leehan — like a startled deer in headlights — makes what are perhaps the quickest efforts he’s ever done to leave your dorm in a hurry.
“I should get back,” he’s replying coldly as he gets up, throwing his jacket over his body so fast that it folds awkwardly along his sides. “But thanks for this.”
This, he says casually. As if his seed isn’t currently wetting the inside of your legs right now.
“But Leehan, the rain—” you insist. Because you can hear thunder rattling your windows outside and you know that to walk home to his apartment is an entirely irrational notion.
“Don’t worry about me,” he tells you, already halfway to your door as he turns around to look at you, something like regret painted all over his passive expression. “We don’t do that for each other, remember?
And it’s with that last parting, ominous statement that you watch Leehan leave your dorm room without another look in your direction. He’s left your room like this — in a hasty blur without a word or an acknowledgement — more times than you can possibly count. 
So why you find yourself overcome with the feeling that this may be the last time you’ll ever see him again, you’re not entirely sure. 
But it’s because of that gnawing, persistent feeling, eating at you like it never has before, that you get up and find a robe to throw over your body so that you can go and find Leehan before it’s too late.
You’re not even sure of what you’re going to say when you find him standing on the outside porch of your building, head down and phone in his hand as he waits for an Uber. All you know is that it’s pouring buckets outside and even with the bit of roofing over your heads, the wind still blows rain onto your bodies, rendering his hair and face wet. 
“Leehan,” you call out, watching as he turns to you and automatically freezes up as he realizes you followed him out here. “Wait. Don’t go.”
It’s at least a little bit understandable why Leehan appears taken-aback by your words and your presence — any other time you’ve had sex, you’ve never once tried to get him to stay behind, even though he could always notice in your expression or quiet intensity that you wanted him to.
So the fact that you’re here telling him not to go, and because of the nature of the sex you just had, it’s like he already knows that you’re planning to pour your heart out to him, and it’s in fear of that that he finds himself saying wearily, “Y/N—”
“No. Let me talk,” you assert before he can finish, a part of you feeling like if you don’t get these words out now, you never will. And so, fueled by the unexplainable feeling that this may be the last chance for you to tell him how you feel, you channel all the confidence you can possible muster and allow all the suppressed emotions from the last three months to spill out without any filter.
“After we have sex, I don’t want you to leave. I want you to stay because you like being with me. I want you to fall asleep with me. I want you to see me and treat me like I’m a human being and not some physical object that you use for sex and nothing else,” you exclaim with a self-pitying scoff.
“And I tried being the chill girl who just goes along with things that are casual. But Leehan, you make me feel things that no one ever has, and it’s not just the sex. For the past few months…it’s felt like my life only truly felt worth living if you were noticing me.”
You can plainly tell by Leehan’s stiff body language and overall lack of reaction that this entire spiel is making him uncomfortable. And as discouraging as the reaction is, now that you’ve started, it feels like you can’t stop until he knows everything that he’s put you through to get to this point.
“And maybe I only feel that way because when we fuck, it’s not like some one-night-stand or throwaway shit. It truly feels like I’m baring my soul to you. And I know that it’s not one sided,” you remark with confidence. Because being in bed with Leehan is the only time when you feel like you can truly understand him. It’s when your hearts, minds, and bodies are in sync and you can both be at your most vulnerable with each other.
“But then you leave, just like you’re doing now. And it makes me feel like the most massive piece of shit you can possibly imagine,” you mumble out with a broken, wet laugh.
Coming to the end of your spiel, you let your arms come down to your sides defeatedly, and with one last imploring look to Leehan’s blank and starry eyes, you ask the question that has been haunting you for the better part of three months now. “So what I guess I want to know is…what is it that’s stopping you from going all in with me? Is it that I’m just…not enough for you to want anything more than sex?” you question, insecurities that have been welling up for so long coming out in a way that has your voice sounding broken. “Or are you just too scared of commitment to allow yourself to feel loved?
“Because that’s exactly what I feel for you. And god dammit, Leehan, but I’m almost 80% sure you feel that way for me too.”
When you’re sure that there’s nothing else left to say and that you got everything you wanted to explain out, it’s with a relieving sigh that your body expels the weight of three months’ worth of pain, sadness, and thoughts of worthlessness. 
And because you know it must be a lot to be on the receiving end of the heaviness of those words, it’s not surprising that the next few seconds after you finish speaking are filled by silence. Watching Leehan stare at you intensely, you allow him the time and the grace to process what he’s heard before you jump to assuming the worst of his silence. 
But then, his first words to you hit you like an icy blast of wind. 
“Y/N, you’re a good person. And the time we’ve spent together has been so much fun for me. But this has always been just that for me…fun. Sex,” he says unambivalently, framing the words delicately though it does nothing to prevent them from hitting you like a freight train. “And I’m sorry if I ever did or said anything that gave you an impression otherwise.
“But honestly, Y/N…” he continues, looking away from you and losing the ability to sugarcoat his thoughts as he expresses, “I told you from the forefront what this was. Why did you say yes if it wasn’t what you wanted?”
He asks a valid question that you unfortunately don’t have the answer to. Because honestly, what were you thinking? Looking back at that moment when he first proposed this arrangement, you have to wonder what possessed you to be delusional enough to think that this would possibly end well.
As embarrassing and humiliating it is to admit, it’s the sex. All those times he told you he desired you, how beautiful you were, how much he wanted you, made you feel like maybe he just didn’t know what he wanted. That eventually he’d come around.
“Because I didn’t think that it was that important to you,” you tell him, feeling your confidence shrinking in real time as your voice comes out quiet and whiny. “I thought…I thought you were changing your mind.”
“I don’t think we should keep doing this, Y/N,” he declares in reply, looking down at the ground in embarrassment. “I like you a lot, but I can’t continue on if I know you have the expectation that this is gonna blossom into something more. I’m sorry, but it’s just not.”
And with that last sobering pronouncement, Leehan runs a hand through his hair, an obviously fake chuckle let out of his lips as he seeks to break the awkwardness of this atmosphere. “This really wasn’t how I wanted this to go,” he mumbles out apologetically, and the way that he stands there stiffly lets you know he wants nothing else than to get away from you right now. 
And sure enough, the sound of a notification going off draws both of your attention to his phone. Like a final dagger to your heart and self-esteem, he’s not even able to hide the relief that floods his expression as he announces, “My Uber’s here, so I just…goodbye, Y/N.”
You watch Leehan step off the porch and into the rain, the lack of light and storm clouds rendering him into nothing more but a blurry, gray silhouette. 
It’s how you will more than likely remember Leehan as you watch him enter the white Mazda that pulls into the driveway. 
Watch the car drive off knowing that you will more than likely never see him again.
He will forever be immortalized in your brain as the stormy force of a presence that came into your life like a tornado, wrecking everything around it and exiting like nothing happened, leaving you a splintered mess of a world to clean up for yourself.
You will be just another Natty, someone Leehan offhandedly mentions to his friends in the car with whoever he chooses to be his next victim, someone he spent a good few weeks with only to never mention them again.
“You’re an enigma, Kim Leehan,” you declared with sincerity. “I don’t want to be your girlfriend either. No offense.”
“None taken,” he replied with breezy indifference, bringing his hand to lay over the one you have on his face. “But don’t say that so easily. You don’t know me well enough yet.”
You rolled your eyes at yet another show of cockiness from him. “And are you saying if I did, I would fall for you?”
Even as his expression remained passive, he replied forebodingly, “Isn’t that usually how these things end?”
He was right.
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The next two months of not seeing, talking, or hearing from Leehan go by in a gray-ish, incomprehensible blur.
You complete your classes, managing a passing GPA and thankfully holding on to your scholarship.
You go out to lunch and on study dates with your mutual friends, neglecting to explain why you always need to know who else is coming before you agree to going out.
You attend a couple parties and events on campus, wondering each time whether you’ll run into Leehan and not sure if the rigid feeling over your chest is because of hopefulness or fear at the idea of possibly seeing him. 
And as you pack up your things to get ready to move out for the winter, it feels like you should be over this by now. You spent three months together. Tumultuous, but still only three – it doesn’t seem to make sense why you still feel so hurt.
But you’re now learning that situationships are the hardest to comprehend in their aftermath because it’s hard to know what exactly it is that you’re feeling wistful towards. Leehan isn’t your ex, but he’s also not a friend whom you simply grew apart from. 
He’s another third thing that you can’t quite capture, making it difficult for you to reminisce on your exciting yet tainted memories with one another.
It’s with these thoughts running through your mind that you finish packing your last few items of furniture, readying them to be stowed away in the back of a U-Haul you rented for the day. 
And with your dorm now basically empty, your roommate having moved out a few days before, you can’t help but to view it nostalgically from the vantage point of your doorway, memories of this semester’s escapades coming back to you all at once.
The dresser that you let Leehan stash his condoms in.
Your cheap bed whose loose, metal springs always robbed you of any chance at secrecy in your interactions. 
Moving towards your kitchenette, you stare silently at the flowers he gifted you that one day, still alive despite several weeks of neglect. The little cardboard fish he stuck between the petals makes it appear almost like they’re swimming among colorful, sagging coral reefs.
Your eyes flit over to your couch, where you didn’t know at the time would be the last place he fucked you before he’d never talk to you again.
Going over these memories in your mind, it makes sense then why when you hear a knock resounding on your door, the first thing you think of is Leehan.
But surely, you’re just caught up in the emotions caused by the sudden moment of reflection; it has to be an RA, or a neighbor about to ask if they can borrow a broom and dustpan.
When you go to open your door, you don’t consider for a second that on the other end could be the one person you’re not prepared to see right now.
So when it swings open and you’re greeted by a straight-faced, wide-eyed Leehan, whose body is relaxed against the side of your door, it feels like all of the air is knocked out of your body.
“Hi,” he says plainly, straightening his posture when he sees you staring at him staggeringly. To say that you feel conflicted as you take in his handsome, tall form would be beyond an understatement. It doesn’t feel like it’s been that long since you’ve seen each other, and it’s almost like he could tell you right now that he’s here because he wants to fuck you and it would feel normal, like nothing has changed between the two of you.
But even in just making that mental observation, you feel angry and resentful that such a dynamic was normalized among the two of you for so long that you convinced yourself it was okay to be treated that way.
And as you stew in those feelings of renewed bitterness and frustration, you find yourself suddenly and strongly opposed to him being here, asking bluntly, “What is this? Why are you here?”
“I’m here to apologize,” he answers with an imploring look, and habitually you study his expressions in the hopes of discerning whether he’s being sincere or not.
But it’s with a feeling of resignation that you realize how done you are with trying to constantly read his mind and understand what motivates his decisions.
Because the same way there’s a chance that he really did show up here with good intentions, there’s just as equal a chance that he wants you to trust him again so that he can get his dick wet.
And so, in a move that brings you an immature level of satisfaction, you close the door on his face without another word.
You hear him exclaiming loudly “Y/N, wait!” on the other side of the door but you’ve already made up your mind, deciding that whatever he has to say isn’t worthy of your time or attention.
You’re done with his manipulative behavior, with his aloofness and undeserved self-assuredness, but most of all you’re tired of being made to feel like shit. And that’s all he ever did in those few months that you were sleeping together.
As you retreat to your bedroom, you go to return to packing your things, but the adrenaline from the passing moment makes your hand shake and your body pulse energetically. You need a second to pause and breathe and process what’s just happened, to walk around and pace away all of this unresolved energy. 
But then you turn around to go back out into your living room, and that’s when you see Leehan standing right outside the arch of your bedroom doorway.
“Jesus fucking christ, Leehan!” you exclaim in a mixture of both surprise, frustration, and confusion as you wonder whether he broke in or if you—
“You left the door unlocked,” he replies calmly, and even though he knows he has a lot to make up for, he still can’t help the smirk that comes to his face as he jokes, “Kinda 101 not to do that if you don’t want someone coming in. That’s like me leaving the filter of my fish tank —”
“Get out, Leehan. Get out! I have nothing left I want to say to you!” you shout, impatient and uncaring to his jokes and his dimples and everything else about him that used to charm you. It’s all meaningless to you now, and you don’t care if you look crazy or unhinged when you go to physically push him out of your dorm.
But even with the nonchalant, noncommittal way he holds onto your wrist to restrain you, you still only manage to move him a few steps, much to your dismay and rage.
And so, in a heat-of-the-moment, emotionally driven decision, you move to close your bedroom door on his face. While successful in keeping him out of your bedroom, you don’t even realize until seconds later that he’s still free to roam in your hallway, kitchenette, and living room, while you’ve essentially just locked yourself in.
Predictably, you can hear Leehan chuckling outside of your door as he makes this same realization.
“You know, if it was your goal to get me to leave, then I’m not sure locking yourself in your room really…” he begins to say, not able to keep the amusement out of his voice at the foolish mistake on your part. But, remembering the reason why he came here in the first place, he tones it down to say soberly, “Nevermind. It doesn't matter.”
You walk over to the side of your bedroom that’s opposite from the doorway, sitting down on the floor, determined to tune out whatever it is that Leehan is about to say. Maybe if you stay silent and let him tire himself out, he’ll eventually leave knowing that there’s nothing he can say to make up for how he’s made you feel.
“I”m not super good at explaining myself, or talking at all, honestly. I go on tangents and my mind is just…a giant fucking minefield. So I wrote down what I wanted to tell you.”
Leehan’s voice is distorted but nonetheless able to be heard clearly through the thin wood that makes up your door, so much so that you can clearly hear the crumpling noises of a paper being unraveled as he starts to read. 
“If you’re listening to me read this, it’s because I somehow managed to convince you to hear me out. Either that, or I broke into your dorm, which feels like the more likely option,” he says with almost no emotion behind the words, and against your own discipline, you can feel your lips twitching into a smirk automatically in reaction to his strange, off putting way of speaking.
“I know my insistence can come off as crass given how shitty of a person I’ve been to you. But I knew that today was move-out day, and I needed you to hear me out before you left.”
You hear him take a deep breath before continuing with the next part of his speech. “As you know, I’m a pretty fearless person. But when it comes to admitting my feelings for you, I’ve had a much harder time. Truthfully, since I met you, it’s been because of my own immaturity that I’ve seen other girls romantically. Even though I always knew my feelings for you were different, I pushed them away in the hopes of avoiding having to commit to anyone. When you told me how you really felt for me, truthfully, it scared me. I didn’t want to know what my life would look like if I decided to be with just one person.
“I thought that by rejecting you, by being away from you for this long, that my feelings for you would go away,” he remarks with the same sort of unfeeling, neutral tone to his voice, as if he knows the explanation behind his actions is unimportant given how they’ve impacted you. “I wanted to view you as just another name on a long list.”
But it’s with his next words that passion and sincerity and longing bleed into his voice all at once to say, “But it’s taken me this time of being away from you to realize that…I’m still not over you.”
After minutes of hanging onto his every word despite every inclination that has been telling you to do otherwise, it’s those last five words that hit you like a freight train. 
And you know it’s foolish and dumb to be believing anything that comes out of his mouth anymore, but you suppose it’s no different from all of the other times you continued to let him in even when he showed you so many times why you shouldn’t. 
Your reasoning remains the same – you just feel an irrational pull to him that is all-consuming, your heart connected to his in a way you can’t control. 
And it doesn’t help that everything he says next is all of the affirmation you’ve been wanting and needing him to give you throughout your entire time of sleeping together. “You deserve someone that’s going to treat you with respect. Someone that makes you feel loved and beautiful and desired. Someone with the courage to be vulnerable and who will care for you in your most vulnerable moments. And I’m sorry if you felt like you didn’t have that with me,” he remarks, and you don’t even realize you’ve been holding your breath throughout his spiel until your chest literally contracts from the lack of air to your lungs.
“But if you can find some way to forgive me, then I want to make us work,” he asserts pleadingly. And with the finality that it feels like follows that statement, you get the feeling that what he says next is no longer being read off the paper. 
Especially when you can hear what you think is the top of his head, leaned against the door with a small thunk as he quietly laments, “I want you, Y/N. Not just sexually, but for everything that makes you who you are. It’s always been you. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it.” 
It’s quiet after that, so much so that you can hear his small and broken breaths being let out against the wall. You hear what you think is the sound of his hand being brought up to rest next to his head. And as the feeling of being pulled in so many directions takes over you, your heart in a heated battle with your brain, it’s after a few moments of silence that you stand up and walk over towards the door. 
Leehan, observing the shadows of your footsteps through the little gap at the bottom of the door, perks up when it’s just a thin barrier of wood that keeps you from being face-to-face with one another.
You prepare yourself to be annoyed when you open the door in expectation that he will be his usual unreadable, unserious self. 
But it’s in surprise but also a little relief that what you find when you face him is the expression of a man who’s truly understood the gravity of his mistakes and feels shameful over them.
“You look really pretty,” he blurts out, the suddenness of the remark almost betraying your slowly but surely growing feelings of understanding towards him. But you also can’t help that his random candor makes you laugh, reminded of some of your earlier interactions as he sheepishly says, “Sorry, bad timing.”
Still standing a fair distance away from him, the tip of your toes just barely meeting the tip of his as you look down at them to avoid eye contact, you attempt to ease the tension of the moment with a shy but truthful, “Thank you, Leehan. For the compliment and for the apology.”
You can feel the heat of his gaze as he tilts his head to stare at you, his attention feeling hopeful but not in a way that makes you feel pressured, but in a way that has you compelled to be completely vulnerable and honest with him.
“I’m just…really scared that you’ll hurt me,” you confess somberly, and it still feels strange to even say things like this to him because you’ve spent so much time suppressing your negative emotions when it comes to Leehan. Scared that you’d lose his approval and feeling like you needed such approval to feel good about yourself.
But over time as your relationship progressed and you found yourself little by little regaining the sense of self that your interactions with Leehan robbed you of, you were able to realize that you didn’t deserve to be treated like an afterthought, like an object only useful if it was giving satisfaction to someone else.
And it was in resentment that over these two months of not speaking you felt like Leehan believed that, too.
But now after hearing him explain himself and believing genuinely that he wants to be with you, you now battle with the parts of you that are scared to believe him in fear of getting hurt and the parts of you that so badly also want to be in a relationship with him.
“I’m not scared,” he tells you, the confidence you’ve come to know him for coming out more strongly than ever before. “I’ve got you, remember?”
He then goes to place his two middle fingers underneath your chin, pushing your jaw upward so that you’re forced into eye contact. Staring into his endless and piercing eyes, it’s for the first time that you feel like you understand him in a non-sexual context. “Is that supposed to mean something to me?” you mumble quietly in reply.
And it’s as you feel your lips twitching into a content smile that Leehan leans in to kiss you, and you accept the gesture without question.
five months later
“I wanna go half on a baby with you.”
These are the words that Leehan remarks to your sleeping form as you lay comfortably beside him in bed, sleeping but getting roused into attention by the faint sound of his voice.
“A fish baby, of course,” he clarifies, though you don’t even register what he’s saying as you remain half-asleep. “I think the ones in my tank are getting lonely.”
It’s hard to tell sometimes whether Leehan is musing out loud to himself or talking directly to you, but either way, the deep tone of his voice wakes you up just the same. 
You lay on your stomach, opening one eye to find him sitting up on his elbow and staring down at you with a curious expression on his face. His hand, resting on your back, draws unintelligible figures on the skin that’s left uncovered by your night shirt. 
All in all, it's a pretty domestic, intimate scene, had you not glanced over at your phone to find how early it was.
“Leehan, it’s seven a.m,” you complain to your boyfriend who still just stares dreamily at your sleepy figure. “What are you yapping about?”
Too familiar with your morning grumpiness to be phased by it, it’s with an unmoved expression that Leehan casually replies, “Just about how much I want a baby with you.”
When you hear those words come out of Leehan’s mouth, you’re sure you must still be asleep and that this is just an incredibly vivid dream. Either that, or you’re dating the strangest person in the world. 
Given that both realities are entirely plausible, it’s in your tiredness and confusion that you sit up from the bed completely, staring at a relaxed Leehan with raised eyebrows. “Don’t you think we’re a little young for that? I mean eventually, sure, but while we’re in school—”
“I was talking about fish,” he interrupts you to say, chuckling at your confused expression and giggling again when you pout at being laughed at. “But since you’re so eager, why don’t I put a baby in you right now?”
Your own laughter in reaction to his words is suppressed when he presses a large hand on your stomach, pushing you back down on the bed. He leans in to kiss you, but per usual, you refuse to make things easy for him.
Reaching behind your head, you grab a pillow and smack him in the face with it, creating a barrier between your bodies. “You’re such a weirdo,” you playfully quip, a designation he only takes in stride as he goes to throw the pillow somewhere on the floor.
“I’m your weirdo though,” he emphasizes, and it’s as you’re both smiling in satisfaction that he leans in to press his lips against yours.
And as his cold hands roam your warm body, you’re hit with a sudden wave of happiness as you acknowledge how far gone the days of having to wish for him to stay even fir minutes after you’ve had sex truly are. 
Because in the past five months since you’ve gotten together exclusively, not only is it routine for him to stay behind, but you also get to wake up together and experience these sleepy, romantic moments. 
The moments when he slowly kisses down your body, dragging his plush lips down your sternum until he’s positioned between your legs.
The moments when you pull softly at his hair as he languidly drags his tongue up and down your folds, begging you in his gruff, sleep-affected voice to come all over his face.
The moments when you could be sponning sideways, on top of him, or below him and he’ll still find a way to spread your legs apart, pressing his long, veiny cock inside of you until you’re overwhelmed by how full you are. 
The moments where his tiredness renders him impatient and he fucks into you so roughly that you can barely form words. 
The moments when he kisses you lazily through every thrust until the sex becomes so good that all you can manage is the occasional swipe of your tongue against his lips or a whimper into his mouth.
The moments when you reach your climax together and he rocks his come in and out of you like he never intends on pulling out.
The moment when you moan out his name, understanding why when you first met he insisted that to know it was a privilege. That to know him is a privilege.
And finally, your favorite, the moments when you either fall back asleep in each other’s hold or get up to shower the sleepiness and sweat off of each other. 
Today is one of those days that you relent to getting up and showering, convinced only by the fact that neither of you has a morning class, making it a perfect day to visit the pet shop conveniently located just a few miles from your college town.
“What about this one?” 
You turn to face Leehan in the fish tank lined aisle of the pet store, lips curling into a smile as you observe him pressing his face up to the glass in awe. As you come up to his side to view the brown-colored fish that have him so captivated, it’s in a surge of honesty that you reply, “Don’t you think they’re kind of…ugly?”
You fight the urge to roll your eyes as you watch your boyfriend gasps dramatically in reaction to your words, even brushing his hand against the fish tank in a gesture akin to patting someone's head. “They can hear you, you know. I’m so sorry, fishies.”
Ignoring his childishness, you look around at the surrounding fish and sigh as you’re overwhelmed by all the different options. “Honestly, Leehan, you should just pick one. They all look the same to me.”
“But it should be something we both like,” he answers with a pout, circling the aisles a few more times before finally stopping at a tank in the very corner. 
Inside of it are an array of multi-colored fish, but the one that stands out to you is an entirely white one with a patch of vibrant red at the top of its head. 
It would be indistinguishable from a goldfish had it not been for its striking color and the appendage that looks almost like an inside-out brain on its head. 
A label beside the tank reads Oranda. 
“What about this one?” asks Leehan in curiosity, and in an almost alarming way, he points out the exact same fish you were just eyeing. 
You come around to the other side of the tank to view it from another angle, giggling innocently when you make eye-contact with Leehan through the distorted lens of the water. “It’s pretty,” you remark simply, and because Leehan has come to know you so well, he knows that the simple attribution is a sign of high praise from you.
“Should we make it ours?” he asks you officially, and though you’re certain that this is the fish you’ve been looking for, there’s one question popping up in your brain that you still can’t find the answer to.
“What should we name it?”
You both take a beat to ponder on the question. Leehan chimes in first, blurting out, “I know. Loony.”
At this, you scoff, unsure as to where he would have gotten such an idea from. “Are you trying to say that our child is crazy?” you quip in feigned offense. 
“No. It’s short for lunar eclipse. That’s when I knew we were gonna be more than just a one night stand,” he tells you sincerely, and with that context you find yourself becoming quickly attached to both the name and the fish who you take home in a plastic bag only moments later.
You allow Leehan to take the lead in homing Loony, a process that involves lots of complicated jargon about adjusting the water temperature and changing the salinity that you mostly pretend to understand as he explains it to you. 
And when you are finally able to sit side by side in front of the tank and watch through the glass as Loony swims among the other fish, it’s with an adoring tone of voice that you hear Leehan say, “It’s pretty, awesome, right?”
At the sound of his voice, you turn to face him, and without being entirely conscious of it, you simply take in his features and how content he looks to be here, with you and with these fishes.
“Yeah,” you reply, laying down and resting your head on his shoulder. “It’s awesome.”
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taglist: @lailols @papichulomacy @0310s @softiwoon @gardenforwon @cherrytaesan @mryuyux @saintriots @lonelylandofan @cyber-tiny @keyywrld @isabellah29 @amerecerasus @cadidupped @suhovhs @lionhanie @taesanmoon @revelettre @s9nwoo @brachioswrld @moneygal0re @karatttttt
thank you all sm for your support on this fic <3 your reactions, feedback, and compliments have meant the world
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taevolu · 10 months ago
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The Boss [First Part: "You"] 18+
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Brief Summary: Hatred from the beginning, lust in the end. You are an obedient worker with a demanding boss. Make the wrong choice and your life will be lead to complications. Will this end with benefits, love or heartbreak?
Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (ft. Jimin)
Genre: Smut
Word Count: 3,397
Warnings: bulling, alcohol, masturbation, degrading/praise, jkxdom, teasing 😩
Parts: One, Two, Three
Working in an office and dealing with projects day after day wasn’t what you’ve planned on doing when you were little. You’ve always wanted to be that performer on stage, wooing people with the talent you were born with. But sadly, that was just one of your childhood dreams. After you’ve graduated college you had no other choice but to be an employee of a magazine company. It wasn’t as bad as you’ve expected it to be but the thought of having to research and do presentations added onto the hatred towards your job.
“Hey ___!” You hear your co-worker, Jimin, yell out to you from the other side of the room. You shot up your head from resting onto your arms to see Jimin happily waving at you across the room, you groaning in response. Jimin was always that euphoric person at work, it’s not like it’s bad or anything, it’s just too much sometimes.
Jimin is walking towards your cubicle with one of his wide smiles.
“I was wondering if you wanted to go out and eat lunch with me?” He asks. But as much as you wanted to, you didn’t want to take his request due to the amount of papers you had to go through and finish for that day. You ended up turning him down but Jimin wasn’t having it, yourself already knowing that this was going to happen.
“Oh come on ___, just for a while?” he pleads with puppy eyes. You chuckled at his expression and took it, “Okay I will eat lunch with you, Jimin. But it can’t be too long. I still need to finish my papers.” He nods with a smile, softly grabbing your wrist with his hand and dragging you outside to his car.
The drive under the gleaming sun with music and Jimin’s singing reduced your thoughts about work, glad that you took his offer.
In all honesty, Jimin wasn’t what you expected back in your dark years of high school. However, you were still glad to have someone like him to come into your life, glad that he stayed with you and helped you grow into the independent person you are today.
Back then, you were always that outcast in school who would always sit in the corner of the classroom and was the only person who would never have a friend to talk to at lunch. People saw you as a “freak” or that person who was always overly obsessed with idols who wouldn’t even notice your existence. That stated fact was something you already knew but little did they know, those idols were the reason for your happiness.
“Why don’t you cry out to your baby ‘G Dragon’ to help you?” Aries mocks you by fake crying, the other girls laugh in response. You were on the ground with your books scattered around you, pages ripped by the girls that were surrounding you. This was a typical day for you, not phased at all but this time they were more aggressive, bruises covered your body from the rough kicks you’ve been given.
You didn’t respond to the brunette, having another sharp kick to your stomach as a response. Making you whimper in pain.
“Hey Girls!” You hear an all too familiar voice call out. Your eyes widened in fear as you looked up to the figure which stood upon you, Park Jimin, a member of a group of assholes.
“Why don’t you girls step aside?” He pushes the girls to make his way over to you, gradually walking towards you while yourself is slowly moving away from his presence. Your anxiety increasing, for he is another reason for your devastation.
“Stop! Don’t come any closer!” You managed to choke out between your sobs. The fear that was present on your face made his soften. He squats down and sighs, looking at his feet. He starts to speak, “ ___-” He starts but you cut him off, “No don’t! You’re one of them!” You cry out. He looks up to you with an apologetic expression, sighing at the amount of horror he had on you.
His arm starts to extend its way towards you, lightly placing his hand on your arm making you flinch at his touch. “___, I’m not going to hurt you.” His voice soft, giving you a reassuring smile, “I’m here to help you.” He stands up and brings out his hand for you to take. You look up at him in disbelief due to his action he has done the day before, not accepting his offer. He lowers down his hand as he gets the hint of distrust that was shown through your eyes, about to speak but was interrupted by his friend, the biggest asshole in the group. His voice sent the both of you to turn your heads over to his direction.
He chuckles at the sight he was capturing between Jimin and yourself, “Are you really helping that fat bitch?” You wince at his words while turning away, making Jimin snap his head over to you and back to the asshole.
Jimin huffs in annoyance, leaving his spot in front of you to approach his friend. Seconds later, you hear the asshole groan in pain, your head shooting up to see him hunched over while holding his groin, then looking over to Jimin who had tight fists on his sides. His friend begins to snicker but then grew into full chuckles, chuckling turning into laughter. He then straightens his posture with a sigh, looking at you with a wink. You shudder in disgust as a response.
“This isn’t the end.”
“We are here!” Jimin exclaims in a singful voice. You jumped a little, tuning out of your thoughts, making Jimin lightly chuckle, “Didn’t mean to scare you.” He softly says. You just smile and exited his car to walk over to the deli.
The both of you already received your meals, sitting on a table close to the window to admire the scenery that was in the distance, making you relax your mind from stress. Jimin then breaks the silence, “What were you thinking about in the car?”
You turned your attention to the sandy haired being in front of you, “Oh nothing.” Giving him a reassuring smile.
He scoffs, “Sure ___, it was ‘nothing,’” He shifts his gaze to the scenery and shifts them back to you, “Tell me, what was it?”
You sigh in defeat, “Remember our high school years?”
The mentioning of ‘high school’ makes Jimin’s expression soften and shows of guilt, “___..” He begins but you cut him off to avoid the conversation about how sorry he is for treating you the way he did. Shaking your head, “No, no, Jimin it’s fine, I’m fine. I’m just glad that we are great friends, and glad that we don’t have to encounter those days anymore.” You take a sip of your drink, Jimin still staring at you with concern.
You look over to him, chuckling, “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Have you heard about our new boss?” Jimin states. You quickly snap your head over to Jimin, raising an eyebrow in confusion.
“New boss?” You wanted to clarify.
He nods in response.
“Do you know the name of this new boss of ours?”
“Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook.”
You froze in place at the familiar name. Jungkook, that asshole back in high school, that asshole who has made you the most miserable being on this planet. You shook your head, remembering that you’re now an adult and so is he, telling yourself that he has grown out of his immature state from high school. But to think that a guy who bullied people in his past, is now the boss of the building you are working at was just nonsense. Your head begins to throb at the thought of Jungkook ordering you around, laughing while you’re being used like a servant.
“Earth to ___? Are you there?” Jimin is waving his hand in front of your face, “Time to go.” He smiles weakly, you nod in response, your mind still stuck on the new information about your new boss, Jungkook.
As you and Jimin make your way back to the office all you were thinking about was the news that Jimin broke out unexpectedly. However you had to shake it off when you were greeted with the stacks of papers that were almost as tall as the office building. You sigh in frustration as you go back to doing the same thing over and over again, until one of your coworkers speaks up to announce the same news. 
“Good Afternoon Map of The Soul Inc.! As you all have been told, Mr. Jeon is retiring from our company, but have no fear! His presence will forever be with us as his son, Jungkook, will take his place as our boss!” Everyone applauds and hoots at the announcement while he and his father walk up to the middle of our office. We see Jungkook smiling and bowing to everyone while You and Jimin try your best to acknowledge his presence by faking your smiles.
You try to not let your past get into your head because it's the past for a reason, right?
As you are lost in your thoughts Jimin nudges you, “Seems like he recognizes us.” He whispers. You slowly look up from the floor to lock eyes with your new boss. He winks and smiles.
Displeased, you shake your head and turn back to your desk to finish up your work for the day. “Can this day be over already?” You mumbled.
“I’m sorry miss, what was that?” Your body shudders at the familiar yet horrifying voice. As you turn back around, you see Jungkook standing just inches away from you. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion due to how quickly he walked over to you and Jimin in just seconds of turning away.
“Oh nothing boss. Just a lot of work to finish before I leave, that's all.” You force a smile. But as you stare at him you notice that he lost his baby cheeks and not to mention the height differences. He does seem different from how he was in highschool; instead of glares his stares are soft, his stance is no longer tense and more relaxed.
“___, you’re doing it again.” Jimin whispers in your ear. You snap back into reality realizing that you were just staring at Jungkook for the last 2 minutes. Jungkook chuckles lightly, not minding it.
“So I see that you two are still friends? And no I don't mean that in a rude way, it's nice to see familiar faces.” He bows in respect and walks back to his father to greet the rest of the employees. 
You couldn't help but notice his body transformation. The way his biceps stood out under his white button up, his cuffs rolled up just below his elbows that reveal noticeable veins popping out of his forearm, and his sharply defined jaw that he would flex every now and then. It felt wrong to keep staring when you were just dreading his presence seconds ago, but the butterflies made it hard to stop.
Feeling your continued stare, Jungkook looks back at where you’re standing, locking eyes with yours. You immediately look away to face Jimin as your face reddens in embarrassment. “So smooth ___.” Jimin giggles. You playfully slap his chest in response which makes his giggles turn into laughter.
You and Jimin always joked around with one another since being friends for so long, some of your coworkers assumed that you and Jimin were a thing but it was always a best friend relationship and nothing more. However, for some odd reason you felt a piercing stare. You glance up to see who it is, Jungkook. His smile that he had seconds ago went back to the glare that you remember back in highschool. You shrugged it off and told Jimin that they needed to go back to working on their projects.
You were finally at the end of the pile of your work when all of a sudden you were stopped by a whisper in your ear, “Meet me in my office please.” His deep husky voice immediately sends shivers down your spine. You nod your head in response and got up as ordered.
You followed Jungkook into his enclosed office, wondering what he wanted to speak to you about.
“___, I brought you in here to ask if you wanted to be my assistant? You’ll be able to develop new skills and knowledge about our company and even travel with me, interested?” This offer was huge and suddenly made you forget about the past. However, that would mean that you wouldn’t be around Jimin as often, the one person that actually kept you sane at this job.
“As much as I want to accept this offer, Mr. Jungkook, but I would have to think more about it. But thank you for considering me.” You replied with a smile.
He chuckled at your manners, “Just Jungkook is fine, ___. But once you’ve thought about it, just walk into my office.” He smiles.
“Come on ___! Loosen up a bit!” Jimin is trying to encourage you to go out to the bar and karaoke. But as tired as you are from everything you just wanted to go home and relax, then again he was still able to drag you into doing so. You both drank tons of tequila sunrises and long islands, sang both of your hearts out like there was no tomorrow and had random emotional breakdowns about work. Time was going by without you being aware that it was already midnight, you and Jimin took off while stumbling on each other's feet from being wasted.
“Are you sure that you’ll be fine by yourself?” Jimin slurs. Without thinking, you nodded yes to his question. Being in your drunk state you requested for a ride through your phone since it didn't feel safe to walk alone in the dark.
After what felt like an hour your ride finally comes by. Unfortunately, you were too wasted to even confirm the identity of your driver but you just shrugged it off because a ride is a ride.
“Where are we headed?” The man asked. You snapped your head to the man as his voice sounded familiar. You squint your groggy eyes to the rearview mirror to make up the man that was behind the wheel. Your eyes widened in realization of who it was, Jungkook.
“Oh I’m sorry, wrong car.” You try to open the door but he locks it before you can even attempt to.
“It's okay ___. I don’t mind. And I’m sure that at this time it's much safer for you to ride with someone that you know.” He smiles at you through the rearview mirror. You nod and send him the address to your apartment. The car ride to your place was silent, no music or talking, just the wind passing by as he drove through the empty roads.
As a long couple of minutes goes by, you are finally at your place. You thank Jungkook for the ride then open up the door. All of a sudden you hear the car go into park, you didn't think much about it and continued to walk to the door of the lobby but was then stopped when Jungkook aggressively yanked you by the wrists. You were shocked by his abrupt movement. You opened your mouth to attempt a scream but right when you were about to do so he covered your mouth. He then runs his free hand down the middle of your back to keep you still.
He slowly leans down to meet his lips to your ear, “It’s good to finally be around you again.” He whispers with a smirk plastered on his face. In your surprise you didn't stop his touch, you didn’t know whether you liked it or not, at this point you just blamed the alcohol taking over you body. 
With one of your free hands you gently tug his hand away from your mouth, “Soooo you wanna come inside with meee?” Your words came out slurred as you were still tipsy.
He gave you a low chuckle in response, “See you at work ___.” He winks.
‘Holy fuck that was hot’ You thought to yourself.
You walked drunkenly to your apartment, kicking off your shoes and making your way to the shower to wash off your sweaty body. After your shower you flopped onto your bed, your mind kept replaying the way Jungkook held your body and the way his body gave warmth to yours from how close he was to you. You let out a frustrated sigh, running one of your hands down your body to then reach your pussy. Just the thought of Jungkook made you crave his touch, to touch your aching pussy.
‘Fuck..Jungkook.’ You whisper while rubbing your swollen clit. You needed to cum, you needed to cum really bad. You quickly grabbed your vibrator that was set on your night stand, turning it on and slowly inserting it in your pussy. Your body shivers from pleasure, imagining that it was Jungkook fucking you.
‘Yes Jungkook, fuck me please.’ You spoke out loud. At this point you didn’t care how loud you were being, all you cared about was getting off on the thought of Jungkook. Then all of a sudden you heard a knock on the door. Were you being that loud?
You quickly turned off the vibrator and pulled up your shorts to make your way up to the door. You peek in the peephole to see the person that was on the other side of the door.
Jungkook?!
You froze in place, shocked to see him outside of the door when you were just touching yourself by the thought of him. You lightly palmed your face in embarrassment, hopefully he didn’t hear anything. He knocked again which startled you back to reality. You finally open the door to see Jungkook holding up your purse.
“I believe that this is yours ___.” He says with a lopsided grin. 
“Yes that is mine, thank you for bringing it back.” You stuttered along with a nervous laugh. ‘Fuck, by the look of his face he must have heard me.’ You attempted to grab your purse to quickly go back inside your apartment but got stopped by Jungkook, getting a hold of your wrist once again.
He leans in closer to your face, your breathing becoming uneven from the sudden gap being closed off by his presence. “Does the thought of me turn you on, hmm?” His deep husky voice making you shiver, your pussy only becoming wetter. You felt your nipples harden under your thin tank top, making you pull your wrist away to cross your arms to hide them. However, Jungkook had other plans. He pushes you back into your apartment, following along and closing the door behind him.
“Jungkook-“ You tried to speak but he silenced you with an unexpected kiss. His tongue finding its way to meet up with yours, moaning through the kiss. He lifts you by your legs, your legs now wrapped around his waist, lips still locked, and places you on your dining table. His lips start to trail down to your neck, leaving wet kisses. You moan in pleasure, your pussy now soaked.
Jungkook gradually went lower to your breasts, pecking each one before crouching down to meet up with your aching mound. You gasp as you feel his hands ride up from your thigh, slowly making his way to your pussy. You closed your eyes with your head falling back, waiting for him to finally touch you.
“Fuck, you’re so wet ___.” He chuckles. “Wanna explain why you’re so wet? Hmm?” He hums while kissing your inner thigh. All that left your mouth was a moan, your mind not able to think of what to say. But with your silence, Jungkook aggressively slaps your thigh, having you wince at the sudden pain.
“I asked you a fucking question ___. Answer the fucking question.” He growls. His face was full of lust and a hint of neediness.
“Because of you, Jungkook.”
PLEASE do not copy, translate or post my writing on any other platform without my consent. ―taevolu🤍
credits:
Picture -  Andre Benz (unsplash.com)
Jungkook PNG - starcolors13 (deviantart.com)
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PERSUASION | HERO FT FANFIC
CHAPTER 9
WC: 1249
Jessica pov
As we make our way to the skating rink, I can tell that whatever Hero wanted to say earlier is still on his mind and bothering him as his focus is on the window.
Should I say something? He was trying to tell me something back at the art gallery. It seemed pretty important to him.
I inhale just enough to calm the nervousness stirring within me. Before placing my hand on his leg, his head turns as he glances down at my hand and then at me. His eyes intensely focus on my face as if he's taking in every detail.
"Whatever it is, it's going to be okay; try and have some fun, okay?" I smile softly, hoping my words give him some comfort.
"I'll try," he replies somberly
His eyes, why are they so sad? What's changed?
"Kristen, Stella couldn't come?" I ask, pulling my eyes from his as she's pulling into the parking lot.
"No, her photoshoot ran over." She says, turning the car off. "Hero, she says hi, although you probably wouldn't remember her," she continues glancing into the rearview mirror.
"I'm sure I would once I saw her," he replies softly.
She nods before opening the door, stepping out, and closing it behind her. I look over to Hero, who is looking at his fingers.
I wish he would tell me what's bothering him
I glimpse back to pinpoint where Kristen is when I see that she's checking her phone, I lean over, kissing Hero's cheek.
"Thanks for today. It means a lot to me" I press my forehead to the side of his temple as I hear the door slide open. I lean back over, watching as Kristen unlatches and then pulls the ramp into place. "You coming, Tiffin?" I ask, looking back at him.
"Yeah" I can hear the smile in his voice as I head down the ramp, followed by him stepping out and then sliding the door behind him.
"No laughing at me," Hero jokes putting his skates on.
"No promises. I'm sure you'll do fine, now go" I wave him off, smiling; he turns, gives me a light chuckle along with an added smile, then skates out, joining his friends.
"So spill," Kristen says, pulling up a chair and sitting beside me.
"We're friends," I shrug.
"Oh, get off it. I see the way you two act around each other. Let me tell you how this goes; he's awesome; you're awesome now; kiss already!" she laughs. I roll my eyes.
"Are you forgetting how difficult this could get? Relationships are not my thing. I don't need another Bradley situation. I'm fine with just being friends," I say, avoiding eye contact.
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"Liar. One, Bradley was an asshole and probably still is; he should have never treated you that way. Two, Hero is far from what Bradley is, and three, you're telling me you don't want to kiss that face?"
It is a nice face...No, Jessica; no, you're not doing this, nope!
"Nope," I say quickly, hoping my voice doesn't betray me.
"Sure, okay, that sounded convincing. This is coming from the girl who says I'd climb that like a tree whenever he walks or talks. You're probably thinking it right now," she laughs, and I can't help but laugh with her.
I look over to Hero, who isn't the best at skating but is holding his own with that infectious smile of his I can't see his dimples from here, but I'm sure they're out.
"You're ridiculous," I murmur
"See thinking about it," she nudges me.
"What's so funny?" Hero asks as he skates over to us.
"Nothing," I laugh again. "You're doing great out there, by the way." Just as Hero starts to say thanks, one of his friends falls.
"Hold that thought," he says, skating out to help, making me smile.
"See, Mr. asshole would have never done that," Kristen points out.
"I know, but I don't want to go through that again."
"You've come a long way since that, Jess. You know better, you're stronger, and he's different...do you think you'll ever tell him? About what happened, I mean?"
"I don't know; how do you tell someone something like that?" I feel my eyes start to water, and I blink quickly before she starts to notice.
"Jess, it's okay, and it's totally up to you. I'm not saying he needs to know, but if you ever did, I'm sure he would understand" I nod
Would he, though? It's not the easiest thing to wrap your head around, and in some ways, I consider myself a monster.
Evan notices me looking at Hero and points, so he turns around, smiles, and waves; I give him a thumbs up and then smile.
They skate a little more than Hero introduces me to the rest of his friends. We talk and order some food; Hero has a couple of fans ask for pictures which he happily says yes to.
"You're in a better mood. I told you, you'd have fun" I smile at him.
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"Are you? Having fun, I mean. Be honest"
"Yes, why wouldn't I be?"
"You just seemed quiet earlier."
"I'm just shy at first. Do you forget how I was when we met?" I laugh " okay, maybe that was a bad example" I bite my lip nervously
"Hey, I wouldn't change that day for anything," he smiles.
"Not even new trainers?" I smirk
"Well..." I open my mouth, pretending to be shocked
"Not even," he says softly
"When do you go back to Atlanta?" I ask, feeling my face heat.
I'm glad that most of his friends have left, and Kristen is outside smoking, so I can at least attempt to hide my reaction.
"Three days"
"Are you excited to get back?" I look down.
"Yeah, I mean, filming is always fun. I hope we can hang out again before I go unless you're sick of me already. I look up, meeting his emerald green eyes.
"Oh yeah, you're a total bore," I say sarcastically.
"I knew it! You just like me 'cause I'm cute," he pouts, a slight smirk peaking through.
"You caught me! Call the press!" I laugh. He takes my right hand, turning it over.
"What does this mean?" He traces the outline of the tattoo on my wrist with his fingers.
"Friendship," I reply
With each trace, my heart begins to race more and more as I do my best not to show it on my face, my mind circling back to the conversation with Kristen earlier, making my eyes fall to his lips.
"Jess, about earlier at the art gallery"
"Yeah?" I push my thoughts to the back of my head, moving my gaze back to his eyes, trying to focus on what he's saying.
"I think I'm starting to like you as more..." he says nervously, then continues, "I know we haven't known each other for that long, but I would like to try at least."
I look at Hero as though he's grown horns or something, and he lets go of my wrist, readjusting in his seat.
"It's okay; just forget I said anything."
He can't be serious. Not feel the same way? I mean, not only is he gorgeous, he's a genuinely good guy.
"Hero, it's not that. I'm just surprised, honestly," I pause for a second, trying to find the right words, "I'm complicated. I know you haven't seen it yet, but I am."
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the-firebird69 · 1 year ago
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This b**** works at Walmart they've been sitting there complaining about him and Walmart's had enough of them we can see the people at Walmart writing notes get them the hell out of there. No they're not doing that so we're going to do it and we're going to take over and we're going to use this because we're going to start fighting this assholes ourselves we need them out they're horrible people they're trying to poison people and that's what they're saying don't have him take the poison out of Walmart you're saying so then take it out and we're going to use it on you starting now I'm going to have your husband poison your friends so they poison her back I'm going to use your stupid clans covered by eating them in my cage will turn into you and give me his team of killers killing all your buddies.. she got really mad and she said I've matured him for the last time that's correct now your brain is going to be swill. Turns around she's crying riding your bike home and she goes to a room and starts crying and fell asleep and she doesn't really care she's trying to do it for impression no she cares it's all over and she ruined it said how's my family be weaker than you it's not possible go to your Island and get the hell out of here
There are two Tina turners and it's a fat slob who's imitating her
Hera
Zues
And I thank you very much and yeah that's the fake one and it's really Lily and she went to her house turned into her and died and the movie is in Florida and we think the people grab her and it started there I've been trying to put it close and he doesn't really care if she's a fat slob. She's possessed okay and these guys are going to use her and what he says is I have all these people who won't shut the f****** and an evil some of them are close like Tommy f who gets his face cut off. She imitating my clan and you make it look like I'm not small even though I'm not really proud of the clan that makes a lot of sense and this jackass is doing it and say it is King Charles and my husband said that and he's so ashamed he can't stand it for years and it's really like keeping a character around she didn't do it on purpose but her name was saying is zoee it's not really true. And she comes back and in and out of the roll of Michael Myers and she comes back as the women in salt... I think we're going to go ahead and scary monster movie I mean they're doing Barbie and the reason is this scene comes up and he's like getting really powerful maybe 11 ft 12 ft is bulky and it's our son moves the car out of the way a little so the guys get out the ivory and they do it before he comes back out and the push it on vibrate it back and forth also it slides into traffic and one of those garbage trucks slams into it shoots it like a hockey puck down the street you're a loud crash
Right now it's a positive lesson and he's going to ask Dave to do it and to try and teach his people because they learn that way at least the sun got it right away nailed it if he has blue eyes and that's how damn it and you know what it is right out there did Mark out there and have him move the car and then you have your father moving and you show that the machine is doing it and it does all sorts of s*** cuz you can go pick it up after and they said they're going to stage it like you have to stage the whole street so Dan is going to do it and he says he gets out which is covered and it's covered for all sorts of stuff so they're going to go ahead and do it
It's one of the funniest scenes I've ever heard him come up with I'll tell you this kind of full of funny scenes.
It's all these people have to die because they're not fighting monsters at all or staying in them holding them off drinking against people who do I guess and that's going to happen but really we're rolling on movies and he's going forwards
She's got like 10 minutes ago and it's the person who took over team to turn his job
Thor Freya
He's going to eulogize her
Hera
I'm trying to grab me with the same ambulance and he tried to grab me this morning as I went to go to the policeman and it was Tommy f and Jason ran out there and she was gone already so the house is in the movie so it's going to be a fight I don't want to take a pay cut at first supplemented first and have other people do it like social security she's going to try it if they don't they're taking a beating cuz you can't see it once that other lady
Zues
I don't want to take a beating but this sucks you can't go anywhere and Garth wants to be the BF and he's a huge idiot with a big mouth
Corine
Olympus we approved this message to go out
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tsunaaism · 3 years ago
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You tell your friend that they, “Look like a bottom.” + "Submissive and breedable."
GN!Reader ft. Miya Atsumu, Oikawa Tooru, Miya Osamu.
Warnings: VERY suggestive content, curse words, characters being a tease, slight possessiveness, slight obsessiveness, not proofread, also a teeny tiny manipulation, sexual tension.
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Bokuto, Kuroo, Ushijima's ver.
Kageyama + Suna’s ver.
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Atsumu
You were Atsumu’s assigned high school tutor. Unlike the rumors about the cocky, annoying blonde, the actual person was surprisingly much compliant and easy to get along with. Sure, he could be a little bit of an asshole sometimes, but he’s a good friend nonetheless.
Years passed, and somehow, you’re still in contact with the now volleyball athlete.
Aaaand you’re standing right here, in his pantry instead of sleeping on your bed during your off day, making breakfast for him because he texted you that he was dying and needed immediate help or else he’s in big trouble.  
He wasn’t.
He was just going through a hangover.
So with a stovetop and a pan in front of you, the petty joke that suddenly appeared in your head—alongside your annoyance— slipped through your lips.
It was a harmless joke, of course. But the way your tone was dripping with sarcasm triggered something in him. It’s been so long since he had seen you in person; you didn’t have to be so rude to him, you know?
He was standing behind you by then. You can feel his prominent abs pressed to your back, a slight scoff escaping his lips,
Until he lowered to your level, lips dangerously close to your ears and warm breath hovering over your skin,
“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He whispers with a teasy, raspy voice; smirking cockily as hazel eyes watch your ears turn red.
You wanted a reaction out of him, right?
“Hmm. Where did that confidence go? I thought I am the submissive and breedable one here.”
“Atsumu—”
“Nuh-uh. Look at me.” He slid his hands around your waist, fingers reaching out to turn the stove off,
“Turn around. Look at me.”
And you did, taking several seconds to calm your racing heartbeat down before facing his stupidly handsome face. His hands were caging your form by now,
“Why are you so pissy? I just needed a little help. I just wanted to spend time with my cute little friend. What’s so wrong with that?”
“It’s a harmless joke, Atsum—“
“Shh. I know. And we both know I could turn that joke on you and make it a reality.”
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Oikawa
A notification from Oikawa popped up on your screen:
“Hey, you’re done working, right? I’m here to pick you up <3.”
“What?”
“Wdym by what? Btw, stay in your place. I can see you from my car.”
Naturally, surprise and bewilderment wash over you. You haven’t met him since high school! He’d been in Argentina for years now, and even though you still text each other almost every day—simply updating each other about your life—you have yet to hear about him coming back to Japan.
It was so sudden. So many questions at the back of your head (the fact that he can immediately locate your office goes unnoticed by you), and yet here you are, sitting beside the driver seat that’s occupied by one of the most-fawned-over volleyball player.
“You.. don’t change much.” You say, closing the expensive car’s door, “Except for the fact that you’ve tanned a little.”
And for the fact that his jawline and muscles are much more prominent. Also the fact that his plain black t-shirt is pressing to his body. Lord.
A low chuckle escapes his lips, “Why? You don’t like me this way?”
No. Of course not! But you didn’t want to make it seem awkward, so you inserted that one joke your friend often says,
Before you realize that it would probably make things more awkward.
“You think so?” He raised his brows, smiling sweetly as he averts his gaze to you, “You’re very bold now, huh? I don’t think I dislike it.”
“I didn’t mean tha-”
“It's fine, darling,” His eyes narrowed, a glint of mischief flashing through his brown orbs, “If you’re so curious about it, why not come and find out yourself?”
And before you could even process his words, he leans onto you—whispering into your ears,
“I missed you. A lot. Maybe I could show you how submissive and breedable I am—or not.”
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Osamu
You knew the calm business owner through a club activity. People deemed the man as unapproachable due to his silent nature, but once he heard about your dreams of being a great cook—he felt a little of your excitement, and you got along quite well through your shared passion.
He was three years older than you, though. He graduated from university earlier, and once you do, he immediately offered you to be a trainee at his shop. It’s almost been 6 months, and he’d been nothing but strict with you.
A baritone voice calls out to you, dispersing your short recall;
“Is everything alright?”
It was late; the shop had already closed, and he was untying his pink-colored, bunny apron—courtesy of you—that hugged his waist just right, and your brain decided that it’d be funny if you told him how cute (as opposed to his usual demeanor) he looks right now.
He stopped his movements, his features expressing no emotion as he stares at you,
“Say that again?”
Uh oh.
“It’s a joke. Promise! No harm-”
A slight smile creeps onto his lips. Eyes narrowed, he crosses his arms, “No. Repeat it one more time, slower this time.”
He takes a step towards you.
And again.
And more, until you’re stuck between the walls and inches away from his chest,
“Why so quiet? Cat’s got your tongue?”
YEAH. Your tongue? Can’t find it. You suddenly have no courage in you to speak, and he knows it well. He leans closer to your face, gazing into your eyes,
“You know you’re wrong, don’t you? I hate pointless chats, so let me prove it to you and see who is the submissive and breedable one here.”
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 A/N: Since you asked for a 2nd part. Characters weren’t specified so I picked these three. My hand slipped a little for this one <\3
Reblogs are always appreciated.
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kiridarling · 4 years ago
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𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐈𝐍 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒
izuku midoriya | ft. ceo!au + praise + exhibitionism + breaking and entering + body worship + f!reader + more! minors dni.
— 3.8k words
“When I saw you this evening, in that ballgown, I knew I just had to have you. But I can't be a gentleman for much longer, as much as I'd like to."
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You’ve always hated Chopin.
“L’œuf mimosa, Madame?”
After turning down the poor waiter whose arms quiver under the weight of the plates, you turn back to your red wine and people-watching. The ballroom is full of golds and reds, the amber lighting illuminating the intricately decorated walls. And you sit in the middle of it all—you and your 147 billion net-worth, with a ball gown that’s caught at least half the aristocratic asshole’s attention, not that they were very loyal to their wives in the first place.
You're not here for their attention, though. You’re strictly here for business—and frankly, you want to do nothing more than sock these fat business moguls in their chubby faces until their teeth fall out and demand they pay their taxes. But, seeing as you’re the only woman here who isn’t a gold-digging wife, you bite your tongue.
You’ve always dreaded black tie events, but as you’ve said, duty calls.
A whine filters through the speakers, followed by two amplified taps and a clear of a throat. The murmur down as the auction's owner takes the center of the stage, stilling in front of the next piece of art—hidden behind a black veil—before adjusting the tie to his business suit.
“I’m glad that you all could be with us tonight. I have both a great privilege and honor to host this event,” he announces, bulbous head already growing damp under the heat of the stage lights. “Now that we're almost at the end, I'm sure you won't be disappointed. Saving the best for last, as one does."
He includes a casual wave to his comment and the audience erupts in a flurry of chuckles, though not for long. As he walks over to the piece, hand raised and ready to reveal, silence seizes the room by the neck.
"Well. Shall we?”
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The audience balances on the edges of their seats, with millions of wide eyes and thrumming chests in anticipation. A smooth flick of a hand and the black sheet is removed, and there sits the only piece you’ve had your eyes on all night. She’s even more beautiful up close.
“El Bacio, The Kiss. Francesco Hayez, 1859.”
The grip around your glass tightens. The brilliant blue from the woman’s dress in the oil painting may as well burn your eyes, and the surrounding murmurs peak with your interest. You know it's yours without question, though—you can outbid almost anyone in this room. Anyone that matters, anyway.
“This is the original version, originally commissioned by Count Alfonso Maria Visconti of Saliceto. It was donated to the Pinacoteca di Brera in 1886 and went missing in 1937. Starting at ten million.”
You try not to scowl. The fucker jacked up the price by two million.
“Twelve million,” the man says as he recognizes whoever lifted a hand. You sit tight, your hands throbbing in your lap for the right moment as you survey the room for anyone who could possibly pose a threat. You find none.
The bidding continues. The price elevates from twelve million to fifteen to thirty to fifty. You raise a hand, finally, fingers splayed wide and confident to signify a five.
“Fifty-five million.”
The room falls silent; you try not to smile. You know for a fact no one wants this painting more than you do, and you’re determined to have it.
“No one else?”
His eyes scan the room but no one makes a motion. It’s yours.
Until there’s movement from your peripheral.
“Sixty million!”
You eye whoever had the audacity to raise their hand, only to be met with a rather peculiar sight—a man, roughly your age, with slicked-back green hair and a hand twice the size of yours, lifted lazily in the air.
With a huff, you find yourself thrusting another five into the air.
“Sixty-five millio—Seventy million!”
You know that green-haired (probably) trust fund baby has got to be doing this for fun because the poorly hidden smirk hidden behind the hand he rests his chin on is more than obvious.
You dislike him already, immediately categorizing him with the rest—another sleazeball.
“Seventy-five million!”
“Eighty million!”
“One hundred million!”
In your defense, you were getting frustrated.
Either way, the green-haired stranger backs off with a nonchalant shrug, and it makes you burn this discontent. The business mogul-turned-auctioneer steps off the stage for another twenty-minute intermission and folks turn to one another for conversation. You sigh, simply satisfied that you’ve gotten what you came for.
You find yourself faintly puzzled by the boy with the green hair, and you're sure it's solely due to his age. Frankly, you've been the only one under thirty in the Top 100 Richest People since you achieved such a feat, and the fact that you haven't heard of him is...puzzling. But it doesn't matter. Clearly, he’s just another fellow looking to put another pretty thing in his foyer—you doubt he knows a thing about art, and definitely not an appreciation for it. You find solace in the fact that it's the new addition to your precious art collection instead, and will be owned and taken care of by someone who actually enjoys it.
“Good evening.”
You jump. Wrapped up in all of your inner turmoil (complemented by inner bragging, naturally) you fail to notice the greenette cross the expanse of the ballroom and make himself comfortable in the open seat next to you, despite your lack of approval.
“Hello,” you say, unsure of why he's here. He offers a hand to shake, Rolex glinting under the golden lighting.
“Izuku Midoriya,” he introduces, and you suppose shaking his hand won’t hurt.
“Your name?” He snorts, raising a cocky eyebrow. You scowl.
“Does it matter?”
“Not particularly.” Izuku rests his forearms on the table as his evergreen eyes rake your figure up and down. “But if you prefer to remain nameless, be my guest.”
“[Y/N].”
“Hmm?”
“My name,” you clarify. “It’s [Y/N].”
You’re not exactly sure what possessed you to tell him your name so easily. Maybe the fact that most already know who you are, and the fact that this man—this stranger—doesn’t know who you are, irks you a bit.
Okay. It irks you a lot.
“Well, Miss [Y/N],” Izuku tilts his head sideways. “I think that’s a very pretty name.”
Your body betrays you with a light gasp. Stupid thing.
“Well. I’m bored,” Izuku announces childishly, relaxing against the chair. “Lets go somewhere.”
You roll your eyes at his asserted dominance—in no way does he expect you to go with him, does he? You raise an eyebrow.
“No.”
Izuku clicks his tongue as if it were a buzzer, and more importantly, as if you were wrong. “Why?”
That has you scoffing. “I don’t know you.”
Izuku’s eyes flash with a challenge and it’s gone just as quickly. He leans forwards, crowding your personal space yet again.
“I told you my name, no?”
“You did,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest and straightening your back. You feel too small. “But I know nothing about you.“
“Well,” Izuku places an inquisitive finger on his lips, and it’s almost mocking, the way he takes a moment to think about it. “My name is Izuku Midoriya. I like...katsudon and hero movies. I’m here because I have too much time and money on my hands, and I’m, most importantly, bored.”
Your eyes narrow. “What do you do for a living?”
Izuku’s lip curls, and it’s downright sinister, “I'll tell you if you come with me."
You roll your eyes, and he takes both your hands in his. You don’t pull away, but you don’t reciprocate it either.
“Where?”
Izuku shrugs, “Wherever the wind takes us.”
Your stomach growls loudly, interrupting your fairly intimate conversation and dying your cheeks pink. Izuku raises an eyebrow.
“I heard they’re feeding us escargo for dinner.”
“Ugh,” you sigh, shoulder sagging. “Looks like I’m not eating, then.”
But there’s a glint in his eyes, and you’d be lying if you said there wasn’t one in your own. There's an ebb in the discourse, a beat, before Izuku's nodding towards the exit.
“Fast food?”
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Wendy’s hits different during a Parisian midnight.
“—and so I had to be like: No Kacchan, you can’t hotwire his car to blow just because your food was, and I quote, lukewarm.”
You snicker behind a fist, digging your fancy heels into the grimy cement sidewalk, Wendy’s frostee in hand. Izuku hasn’t let go of your hand since you two left the fast-food joint, and for some reason, you haven’t pulled away.
"Violence seems to be a reoccurring theme with your friend," you say, laughing when Izuku nods in agreement, eyes stuck on the full moon hanging high in the air.
"You remind me of him, actually."
You raise an eyebrow, unable to see the correlation at all, "Because I'm a loud and angry and I like to blow things up."
"Or, because you're strong—independent. The type of woman to make men turn tail and run, you know?" Izuku turns to you with a lopsided grin.
You hum, averting your eyes to the moon. It's a stupid question, one that's all too loaded yet empty at the same time, and you hate that you hesitate to ask it.
"Why haven't you ran, then?"
"Easy." Izuku lets a smooth shrug roll off his shoulders, "I like strong women."
He continues to pull you to an undisclosed destination, the two of you stumbling through the heart of Paris with his suit jacket around your goosebump-ridden shoulders. People stare, but for the first time in forever, you find that you don't care much.
Finally, you two reach Izuku's "big reveal." You gaze at the magnificently lit french building in confusion, the golden under lights contrasting both of your beings against the navy blue sky.
"The Louvre?"
"Mhm," Izuku says, and he looks more than giddy. "Have you been?"
"Once," your voice is weary and you're sure he senses it, his grip tightening around your own. "For a fundraiser...but it's midnight Izuku, ho—"
But he's already tugging you to the right, dipping between columns and arches until you reach the back of the building. Izuku turns to you and whispers:
"Watch this."
It's hard to tell what he did exactly, especially with no light—it's just a bunch of jingles and ticks. Though, the moment you can't escape the sense that this is beyond sketchy, a lock clicks, and a door whines open.
"Hurry. And take your heels off," Izuku whispers, tilting his head towards the entrance. You hear the crunch of a leaf and see the beginning of a white flashlight curl around the building and fuck, this place has to be crawling with security guards, doesn't it?
"Don't tell me what to do," you grumble...as you take off your shoes. (Because you were going to do it anyway.) You enter and he closes the door behind the two of you, submerging you both in complete darkness.
"Security's only on the outside," Izuku grins. "They don't expect us to get inside, so as long as we're quiet, it should be fine."
"Until we have to get back out again," you say, huffing. Your heart pounds from the adrenaline because frankly, you've never been one for adventures, and breaking into a historical french museum is miles out of your comfort zone. "Seriously, did you think this through at all? What happens when we get caught?"
Izuku sighs, turning to you with a pout before grabbing your free hand again. "Women worry too much. C'mon—I wanna explore."
"You—let go, you misogynistic assho—"
You're cut off by a finger to your lips. Izuku bends down so he’s looking at you straight on, eyes dark as he sternly whispers, "Do you want us to get caught?"
It's not the prospect of getting caught that makes you falter, though—it's the way his stare pins you in place, voice swollen with that air of dominance you claim to hate. You have to tighten your grip on your heels to ensure they don't hit the ground.
"Now," Izuku‘s strangely childish manner returns, tugging your hand once your panicked whisper-yelling ceases, "Shall we?"
You roll your eyes, but your bare feet patter against the cold Louvre tile anyway. And you've got to say, the museum is much nicer when it isn't crawling with people.
"Mona Lisa's forehead is bigger than I thought," Izuku observes with a finger on his lip. He's on the wrong side of the railing, his nose close to kissing the glass protecting the piece. You snort, dropping your head to pinch the bridge. He turns to give you a weird look.
"What?"
"Nothing, just," you shake your head, the cool wood of the railing digging into your forearms. "Did you actually want that painting?"
Izuku frowns. "Which one?"
"El Bacio."
"Mm," the greenette hums as he thinks, blinking to the corner of the room."I suppose. You seemed like you wanted it more, though."
You roll your eyes, "So you cap at eighty million?"
Izuku shrugs, hopping the railing. Seems like he's finally done insulting poor Lisa, "I capped when you started to sweat."
You huff, but stomping instead of walking isn't so intimidating when you're barefoot. "I wasn't sweating."
You see a hidden smirk on Izuku's face once you catch up to him, and it's frustrating and insulting, to say the least. Both of you proceed down a hall of statues. "You're much easier to read than you think, Miss [Y/N]."
"And you're not as perceptive as you think, Mister Midoriya."
Izuku chuckles at that, shaking his head. "Well played, Miss [Y/N]. Well played."
You're not sure why your chest swells, but it does, and it takes both you and your limited lung capacity off guard. But you don't have much time to sort it out—Izuku's grabbing your hand again, and redirecting your attention to the last statue in the hall. You recognize it and frown.
“Cupid and Psyche?”
The silver moonlight pours in through the window, spilling down Cupid’s tipped wings and the softest points of the Psyche’s curves. Izuku hums in confirmation, hands sliding to encompass your hips as his chin hooks on your shoulder.
"Well done, Miss [Y/N]."
His voice deepens—it's coarse and heady, and gets your blood rushing in a way breaking and entering never could have.
"Amore e Psiche, Psyche Revived by Cupid's Kiss. Antonio Canova, 1793."
You fail to understand why this statue stood out to him compared to all the others, but the circles Izuku’s thumb presses into your hips signifies that you’ll find out soon.
"Cupid represents desire, and Psyche, the human soul," Izuku says, running his hands up your sides. "Together, they make the perfect union."
Dipping his nose into your neck, Izuku inhales, and the hands around your waist tighten, if the smallest bit. "Psyche was the prettiest woman in the world; so pretty she rivaled Venus' beauty with her own. It didn't matter if it broke rules—Cupid knew he had to have her."
The gentle nudge of a neck evolves into a set of butterfly kisses, tracing the column of your neck until his mouth reaches your ear. A hand slides to gently cup your breast, and the other to your thigh.
"Miss [Y/N], when I saw you this evening, in that ballgown, I knew I just had to have you. But I can't be a gentleman for much longer, as much as I'd like to." Izuku groans into your neck, hips gently grinding forwards. "So, it's up to you what we do next—I could drop you off at your home to probably never see you again, or...”
Izuku shifts, and you can feel his hardening cock against your back. “I can bend you over right here. Your choice.”
You hesitate, determined to think this through—but Izuku's wandering hands and rutting hips prove to be too much of a distraction.
"Fine," is all you say, before whirling around, grabbing the greenette by his dress shirt, and slamming your lips onto his.
Izuku kisses back with a grin—like he knew you were going to say yes—and places his hands around your waist yet again, backing you up against the marble statue.
"Sit on the platform," he breathes into your mouth. You frown.
"Like, the platform to the statue? Caus—"
"Yes on the statue, now sit," Izuku demands, but he doesn't give you much room to protest, forcing you onto the marble platform. Hiking your dress to your waist, Izuku's calloused palms slide up your inner thighs, spreading them apart to make room for himself in between. He pauses.
"No panties?"
You flush red—from the exposure or the comment, you aren't sure—but you huff in defiance nevertheless, determined to stand your ground and keep some of your dignity. (Though you're positive Izuku can feel you shaking already.)
"I'm wearing a dress," you defend weakly.
Izuku hums behind a bitten lip, lying a heavy thumb on your clit. It's enough pressure to make your thighs tense but not much else, until it flicks downwards.
"I wanna taste you," Izuku growls with dilated pupils once he finally tears his gaze from your exposed body. "Can I?"
Heat surges through your veins, and you let him pry your thighs apart as you respond with an unsteady, "Yeah—yeah, that's fine."
Izuku's chest rumbles with a growl as he closes in on your pussy, hands gripping underneath your thighs. You whimper when he trails butterfly kisses down your inner legs, the grip you have around the skirt of your dress tightening.
"So pretty," Izuku groans, chuckling when you shiver as he flattens his tongue against your slit, "My Goddess."
With that he dives in, almost sending you toppling with the force. The moonlight dyes his green locks a navy blue, and you can't resist seizing them into a fist when he pushes a finger in.
"Feel good, Gorgeous?" Izuku says with a knowing smirk on his sinfully glossed lips. Another digit enters and it has your toes curling as you nod. “Shit, you’re tight.”
Izuku spits on your pussy and it’s downright dirty, before looks at you under forest green eyelashes, the other hand finally letting go of your thigh in favor for pulling at the top of your dress.
“Izuku, wha—“
“I wanna see your tits,” he huffs. You’d laugh at his enthusiasm if you weren’t so aroused, and you find your hands joining in the flurry. The moment they’re free, Izuku’s mouth latches onto your breast in an instant.
“F-Fuck, ‘Zuku—“
“You sound so good when you moan my name, sweetheart,” Izuku groans, and you jolt as he tweaks a bud.
“Say it again.”
He pinches your nipple and clit at the same time, and it has your legs kicking as you squeal his name again.
The Izuku growls and it's nothing but feral, and another yelp of his name has him pulling you to your feet to the point where your noses almost touch. Aggravated from being so close before the greenette ripped his fingers away has you scowling.
"Wha—"
"Can I fuck you?" His breath ghosts your lips. You hide your shock by a roll of your eyes.
"Do you always ask stupid questions?"
Izuku hums in contemplation before grabbing you harshly by the jaw, to the point where your cheeks squish into your eyes and your lips pucker. "Say it, Bunny."
"I just sa—"
"Say 'I want you to fuck me, Izuku,'" he says with a cruel snarl. "’Hard.’"
Your eyes dart from his heavy gaze to the statue, and you can't help but feel more fragile than glass. "I litera—"
"Say it, brat."
"I—" you try but nothing comes out, and you blame that darkened stare of his, "I w-want you to fuck me. Izuku."
Izuku inhales sharply, the fingers cradling your face tightening before he speaks again.
"Good girl."
He spins you so your hands lay on the statue's base, yanking your hips back and flipping your dress so your bare ass is exposed to the cool air.
Izuku's palms caress your behind, kneading both globes before he pulls you against his bare cock. (When he took off his pants is beyond you.) He slaps his cock against your clit until you huff in frustration, turning around to shoot him an angry glare.
"Today, Izuku."
The greenette blinks out of his absorbed gaze on your behind in favor of glowering you down. You waver under his glare despite your best efforts.
His cock kisses your entrance and then all of it is in you at once, and his size is enough to make your inner thighs ache from the stretch. You bite your lip in an attempt to muffle a moan, but that crashes and burns fairly quickly.
"O-Oh shi—"
"You said today, didn't you?" Izuku rasps, before pulling out and stuffing you full at a quick and steady pace. Your hands scramble for proper purchase against the statue—without breaking it, for gods sake—but the harder he fucks you into it, the harder it is to stay upright. "Quiet, baby. We're not supposed to be here, remember?"
You nod frantically, teeth digging into your bottom lip. The thought of getting caught, you, of all people, while being railed against a marble statue—
Izuku moans in your ear, a hand moving between your thighs to rub at your clit. "Oh, you tightened when I said that—you like the idea of getting caught, Bunny?"
You respond with a choked moan, thighs quivering with an impending orgasm. Izuku groans as you tighten around him again, but they quickly turn into shushes.
"Bu—"
"I-I know," your voice cracks and it's absolutely pathetic. "But I can't—"
Izuku's hand wraps around your mouth to the point where his fingertips just barely brush your ears. You whine, eyes fluttering as the new grip adjusts the angle ever so slightly, and pushes him so much deeper.
"You're gonna kill me," Izuku says, wheezing out a laugh. "I—fuck Bunny, I'm close."
You whimper behind his hand and nod as if to say me too, and you're sure Izuku understands from the way he groans before he speeds up in all aspects. "Good. G-Good—cum for me baby, I know you can—"
Your toes curl into the marble floor as the coil in your gut snaps, knocking the wind out of you and sending you thrashing in Izuku's arms. You hear the greenette curse and shudder behind you, stuttering hips slowing to an eventual stop. Both of you stand there for a moment, comfortable interrupting the silence with nothing but your heaving breaths.
"You okay?"
You chuckle. It's dry and scratchy, and your lip throbs from biting it so hard, but it isn’t...aggravating, per-se. "You sound worse than me."
Izuku laughs at that, though it waters down as he pulls out with a hiss. "I don't think worse is the correct adjective here, Miss [Y/N].”
You snort. Back to “Miss [Y/N]” it is, then.
Your ears catch the distinct wail of ever-increasing sirens, but you don't think much of it until the side of Izuku's face starts flashing blue and red. Both you and the greenette falter, sharing a look.
"Police! Hands in the air!"
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i wrote this while watching a hysterectomy in physio aah (also yes, the french police speak in english leave me alone skjdhfgk) — sun
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apimpnamedlo · 4 years ago
Text
Sneaky Link
A/N: This took me forever to do 😂 I hope y’all are able to enjoy!
pairings: eren jaeger x reader
genre: modern au, college au
word count: 1.2k
warnings: weed, cannabis, public sex if you squint a little, choking, bilingual man being sexy as hell-
jasmine sullivan ft. ari lennox, on it
sza ft ty dolla sign & coco jones, hit different
nsfw below
You two had to stop meeting like this.
There were relatively fresh memories clinging to the back of your mind that reminded you that nothing was exactly wrong with it. You were dating, but hadn’t quite reached a point out of the talking phase that others had vague knowledge of. A relationship with Eren Jaeger required patience to get to know one another, gently pushing one another to the point where one day you two would fall off that cliff and into a state of bliss of being “official” to the public eye.
Sometimes, you two needed a safe haven away from prying eyes to relish in your relationship , but that didn’t involve what the two of you were doing in the backseat of Eren’s Jeep. It was supposed to be a discreet little meet up while your friends wound themselves down for the night and curled into the comfort of their beds. Eren would sit in the back seat with you and look every bit as delectable as he always did, roll up, and by the time smoke was able to invade your lungs? Your clit throbbed with the anticipation the blunt gave you.
Every time. He just had that effect on you.
Every time you two found alone time in there it involved you planting yourself on top of him while being mindful of his leather seats, almost expertly wiggling your hips to get into a good position to be filled with his pulsing dick. It always ended with you riding the youngest of the Yeager brothers dick, and you had no shame in that. Eren didn’t either.
Smug asshole.
The man of the hour practically did nothing but lay back in the mid section of his backseat, lips pressed against your skin and he sloppily sucked angry hickies against the flesh of your chest. His hand balanced the blunt you two shared carefully in hand, while one was free to roam your body. Eventually that hand found its goal between your legs, and pushed your damp panties to the side to circle his thumb between damp folds to your clit.
“You’re driving me mad,” He mumbled into your neck, and it was obvious that he enjoyed the sight of you squirming, mewling and full of desire. He slicked himself with your arousal, predicting just what he knew would come next. “You just wanna be full of my dick, huh? Show me how much you want it.”
Eren didn’t need to say much more after that. You didn’t need to take a chance with aligning him with your entrance, sinking down with a breathless sigh, shifting your weight out of a fear that tap danced around your mind that you could somehow hurt him.
It took a lot out of the man to resist not taking your hip and pushing you down to take him fully. His teeth clenched while a groan rumbled deep in the confines of his chest, making you squeeze him briefly just to silence him.
“Fuck,” he whispered in the midst of taking a drag of the blunt that almost seemed forgotten. Eren’s body seemed to relax after that, leaning back to observe you in your near naked glory where you lacked a bra, and your shirt had been crumpled upwards to settle just at your armpits.
Even if you two were tucked away in the back of his car, away from the gaze of both of your roommates respectively, he still looked at you as if you weren’t anything less of a goddess.
“You like what you see?” You teased, testing the waters of squeezing around his girth, and that earned you nothing but pursed lips and an exhale of smoke.
“You look divine as always, mein schreier,” he purred, and worked the both of you into a rhythm. The car rocked gingerly with the both of your efforts, his thrusts pushing up and into your expecting cunt and your downward motions that met each one that sucked him in deeper and deeper to fulfil both your needs.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” You could wail like this all you wanted and he would still say you sang to him like you were reciting a mantra. It was far from anything holy, but you could tell that he practically worshipped the way you sang for him, “Eren, please just fuck me harder.”
Oh, he obliged.
The man blew a smoke screen in your face and completely put out the blunt to place both hands on your waist. The look in his eye made your core clench around him, and your foreheads met in the midst of smoke and the heat of intimacy. Every inhale was met with an exhale, every grunt matched with a moan. He was just as intoxicating of what filled the car, reaching somewhere deep, primal, just as he did each time before.
“____, shit” He hissed, breaking the connection between the two of you and let you take control, slumping back to navigate his hand between your sweat clad bodies, and the tell tale signs of his orgasm came in the form of his dick twitching inside of you. He was probably going to cum, you noticed in the haze of the moment. His head landed on the headrest with the softest of thumps, Adam’s apple prominent with littered marks of your previous make out session.
You were going to take all of it. Down to the last drop. Eren made sure of it in the way his hand shot out, almost dragging your upper body close to his by your delicate throat. His lips were hot, needy, and communicated exactly what he wanted. One, was for you to keep doing exactly what you did, bouncing almost effortlessly on his dick. And the next?
Cum with him.
The car was silent, save for the wet connection of flesh on flesh that made a unique music of its own. The both of you throbbed together, gaining momentum to push yourselves over into bliss until-
You stumbled over the edge of your own orgasm with a strangled wail, the pressure of his lanky fingers digging into your throat just right.  Your words were tumbling over each other with the pressure of your orgasm and his hand that seemed planted at your throat. It gave air, and it took it away with just a bit of pressure from his index and thumb.
“That’s right. Fucking cum for me,” he grunted, taking opportunity to lift you up and off of him in one moment, and spill release on your bare thighs the next.
The two of you took time soaking one another in, and you shakily straightened yourself out while Eren steadily helped you into the comforts of his lap.
Yeah, you two had to stop meeting up like this.
Eventually.
note: mein schreier - rough German translation of “my screamer” because I headcanon Eren speaks German. He learned from his mother and father at a young age!
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allthingsarmin · 3 years ago
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fratboy/stoner armin!! in love with how you write asshole! armin ❤
Thank you for your request! I feel I didn’t do a good job with this one, so I will probably go back later and rewrite it. (And I really appreciate your feedback <3 I hope this dose of asshole!armin will satisfy your needs haha)~
MINORS DNI! Ft. NSFW TOPICS (weed, one mention of vomit, and sex (groping, drunk noncon), mentions of religion, one mention of sexaul assault).
Fem!Reader, FemBodied!Reader
ᵔᴥᵔ Fratboy!armin who dresses like a gentleman - wearing white shorts and a white button-up collared shirt under a cerulean sweater that compliments his mesmerizing blue eyes as well as a dainty silver watch on his left wrist and always comes to class with a freshly shaven face and cologne that is just a little too “manly” for him - but acts like a complete hooligan, making inappropriate jokes in class, pranking innocent passersby on campus, and getting black-out drunk at frat parties every Friday night.
ᵔᴥᵔ Fratboy!armin who looks so poised and has such a refined posture, having enough manners (like holding the door open) to swoon enough girls but is such a menace when it comes to anything serious… like being harshly shushed in the library because he was being too loud or skipping finals to go on a spontaneous road trip with his frat buddies then sending an email to his professor saying he was sick, even printing out a fake doctor’s note, or pranking the sorority across the street by TPing their house or even how he can’t seem to care less when the police ruthlessly question him because there have been so many reports of sexual assault done by his frat friends.
ᵔᴥᵔ Fratboy!armin who thinks he is so smart because he’s a business major and genuinely believes he is better than everyone else because he gets out of class to go to all these events even though he is undoubtedly one of the most irresponsible and reckless people on campus… having unprotected sex with countless unfortunate women who have fallen for his false compliments, throwing parties that become too big for him to handle - so loud the police become involved, so messy with red cups littering the floor and vomit being found in every trashcan in the house - and failing nearly every class he’s in because “it’s too easy for me, my advisor put me in the wrong class, and the teacher is an old hag.”
ᵔᴥᵔ Fratboy!armin whose backpack is filled with anything but college textbooks and notebooks, like a chewed pencil, three packs of condoms, some headphones, and an energy drink.
ᵔᴥᵔ Fratboy!armin who swears he’s being a good boy when his rich parents who are on their abroad trip ask him how he’s doing over the phone but is actually spending most of his weekly allowance buying weed and smoking it with his frat buddies, who often gets into intense fights with them because he “knows he had two ounces left, but now he only has one,” and who shows up to class high the few times he does actually decide to go - eyes red, a constant small smirk, can’t stop rambling about useless things.
ᵔᴥᵔ Fratboy!armin who walks together with his big group of frat friends, taking up large amounts of room on the sidewalk and in restaurants, cat-calling girls they think look fuckable and loudly mocking those who look prude.
ᵔᴥᵔ Fratboy!armin who has a main Instagram where he looks so well-mannered, posting pictures with his family or his frat buddies when they go on a trip together but also has a secret Instagram where he posts thirst traps, follows barely clothed women, and stalks accounts of girls who go the same college as him, even DMing the men at your college to see if they have your nudes.
ᵔᴥᵔ Fratboy!armin who knows how handsome he is, who knows how easy it is to make your knees weak and your heart flutter when he looks at you from across the campus soccer field with such intent, biting his lip, maliciously smiling because yet another girl has fallen for his seemingly innocent aura as you excitedly wave at him.
ᵔᴥᵔ Fratboy!armin who revels in the fact that he can convince you to do anything. When he’s whining so pathetically in the driver’s seat and pressuring you to just hit the blunt one time while he locks you in his car that’s parked on the far end of the campus parking lot. And you, so submissive and selfless sitting in the passenger seat, not wanting to disappoint him because his frown harshly tugs at your heart, take a hit, choking on the fumes and heart pounding at the unfamiliarity as a warm buzz sets in.
ᵔᴥᵔ Fratboy!armin who pressures you to skip class with him so that you both can go to the campus cafeteria and buy an unholy amount of cookies and chips because he’s high and he’s hungry… and now you know why his bedsheets at the frat house reek of weed and why his crusty floor is littered with food wrappers.
ᵔᴥᵔ Fratboy!armin who so easily persuaded you to play those type of sexually suggestive games at the weekend frat party where everyone is drunk, breath seething with vodka, and sweatily rubbing up against each other, so horny for a release, and so desperate to feel something besides the headache from the loud music… who you somehow wind up in the closet with, his right arm holding you close against his body as his left hand slithers into your panties and forces itself into your cunt because he wanted you to play ‘seven minutes in heaven.’
ᵔᴥᵔ Fratboy!armin who promises that there’s nothing to be afraid of because he’s ‘secretly a sweetheart’ but calls you his “bitch” and pats his thigh, signaling that he wants you to come sit in his lap so that he can feel you up in front of his friends at the frat party when drinking cheap, shitty beer.
ᵔᴥᵔ Fratboy!armin who swears he won’t bite but gets you so drunk at parties that you can’t even tell him no when he takes you upstairs, locks the door, and practically forces his hard, throbbing cock into you while holding you into a mating press, covering your mouth to suppress your cries as his tongue trails your jawline and neck.
ᵔᴥᵔ Fratboy!armin who prays before every dinner, keeps a bible in the lowest drawer of his nightstand, and goes to church promptly at 10am every Sunday with his frat buddies despite being hungover. Sitting in the front pews, he listens intently to the preacher, letting the word of God spill into his heart even though he was rigorously fisting his cock the night before to your pictures on Instagram, cumming four times but his balls still swollen and cock still desperate for your messy cunt, having to hold back his needy whimpers each time his slender fingers brisk past his sensitive tip as he imagines your warm, wet tongue licking off the pre-cum.
ᵔᴥᵔ Fratboy!armin who invites you to a Sunday lunch with his frat. Of course, he looks so polished: a clean, white button-up with a baby blue sweater hanging around his shoulders and a pair of new Sperrys. When you show him what you’re wearing, he tells you that you could do better as he convinces you to wear something a little low-cut but not too much because he doesn’t want his frat buddies to think he’s dating a slut.
ᵔᴥᵔ Fratboy!armin whose friends look at you like starving dogs when you both finally get to the restaurant, never including you in the conversation except for when they comment on your body and how irresistible it is.
ᵔᴥᵔ Fratboy!armin who doesn’t defend you and instead soaks up all of this appraisal.
“Yeah, she’s a good toy to play with,” he proudly smiles while gripping your thigh in his strong, pale hands.
ᵔᴥᵔ Fratboy!armin who makes you order a small salad and only allows you to drink water because “you need to watch your figure.”
ᵔᴥᵔ Fratboy!armin who’s the perfect predator, the perfect manipulator. He can do whatever he wants without ever getting caught, howling at the fact that you try to tell advisors or teachers how Armin violated and manipulated you, but they just never believe you. “You’re talking about Armin? Armin Arlert? He would never do anything like that,” they chuckle… because everyone knows Armin’s an angel; he’s part of the frat, so that makes him a good boy, right?
ᵔᴥᵔ Fratboy!armin who you can’t possibly ever escape from because he’s done such a good job at manipulating you to be his little slutty girlfriend, his heaven-like appearance making it impossible for others to believe what a devil he is, isolating you as he convinced all of your friends that you’re just some cock-hungry whore.
ᵔᴥᵔ Fratboy!armin who has done such a good job at defiling you, successfully taking your virginity and eagerly pressuring you to do things for him, letting him so easily enter your sloppy cunt as he takes in the sight of your tender breasts, contorted face, and bright red hand imprints on your thighs.
ᵔᴥᵔ Fratboy!armin who despite all the manipulation and sexist comments, you don’t want to leave because he smells so sweet thanks to all the treats he eats; because his arm muscles look so good when he plays golf with his rude friends; because he makes your high from weed more fun as you two cuddle and talk about nonsense; because he is able to bury your shy side and awaken your submissive side as he slowly degrades the human being in you and raises a filthy slut whose pussy he makes so wet, so needy, and so pathetically sloppy.
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fantastic-bby · 4 years ago
Text
One In A Million
Pairing: (F)Reader x Changbin ( ft housemates Felix and Jisung) 
Word count: 14.7k 
Genre: Fluff | Romance | Slow burn | Mermaid!Reader | Non-idol AU | College student!Changbin | Strangers to lovers 
Summary: In a world where magical creatures exist simultaneously with humans, Changbin, a marine biology student, knows that merfolk have been pushed to extinction by humans years before. However, while he’s at his regular smoking spot at the beach, he notices a figure watching him from the water...
Warnings: Cigarette use (Changbin) | Mentions of marijuana usage | Changbin almost drowns 
A/n: I may have gotten carried away ahaaaa... This is actually the longest fic I’ve ever written (it almost became longer) and I’m really happy with how it turned out so hopefully you guys enjoy it too owo 
Masterlist
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Changbin thinks he’s gone mad. He stares at the water in so much disbelief that he’s sure he’s gone mad. Looking down at the cigarette in his hand, he’s thinking that Felix has definitely laced it with something. If he wasn’t high, then why did he just see a person disappear into the water from the beach he’s standing at?! 
“Fucking Felix,” he curses as he pulls his phone out of his pocket. 
Binnie: Did you put something in my cigarettes? [03:54]
Lixie the weedie: No??? Why would I touch your cigs? [03:55]
He lets out another curse as he shoves his phone back into his pocket. When Changbin sees the head poke out from underneath the ocean’s surface, he’s slightly more convinced that it’s an actual person and not some drug that’s messing with his head. He looks around the beach—it’s empty other than him. It’s normal for the beach to be empty around this time. Changbin’s only out there every night because he wants to smoke and his housemate—Jisung—refuses to let anyone smoke cigarettes in the house. Jisung’s a funny guy. He would gladly take Felix’s joints and edibles, but he refuses to be a victim of secondhand smoking because of Changbin.  
Changbin’s phone buzzes twice in his pocket and he pulls it out once again. 
Sungie: Come back inside D:< You’re gonna catch a cold if you’re out there any longer [04:00]
Binnie The cigs keep me warm [04:00] 
He awaits Jisung’s next response to see the message being read. The chat bubble pops up, bouncing a few times to signal that he’s typing back only for it to disappear. Changbin looks back out into the ocean only to realise that whoever was watching him is gone. He sighs, wondering what kind of a person would be in the water during winter with how the temperatures drop way below freezing. 
Sungie: I’m locking the door if you don’t come back in 5 minutes [04:03]
Binnie: Fuck you [04:03]
Sungie: Attached image (1)
Of course he sends a love meme back. Changbin rolls his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips. Jisung means well, he just shows his affection in a slightly more aggressive and dry manner than Changbin would. 
Binnie: I’ve accepted the love meme and I will be returning shortly <3 [04:05]
He gives the ocean one last look before turning around and heading towards the neighbourhood, putting his cigarette out in the process of walking. Changbin’s body shivers a few minutes into the 8 minute walk. Without the smoke warming his lungs and body, it’s just cold now. He knows he needs to stop and the constant excuses that he’s come up with to stay attached to those cancer sticks make Jisung want to punch him in the face. One of those excuses is being warm in the winter, which again, makes Jisung want to punch him. 
“I’m back,” Changbin announces as he steps into the small house and kicks his shoes off. Jisung pops his head out from the living room to look at him. 
“Lix and I are playing Super Smash Bros., do you wanna join?” 
“Uhh, I’ll pass,” he shakes his head as he steps into the living room to see Felix sitting on the couch. His Nintendo Switch is plugged into the TV, the baby pink controller in his hand while the other baby blue one is with Jisung. "Don't you have class in the morning?" 
"Our professor cancelled," he replies with a shrug as Jisung starts another round of the game. "I only have classes after lunch, so I'm not too worried about it." 
“Still,” Changbin chuckles. Unlike Changbin, Felix and Jisung somehow have more filled schedules than he does despite how they’re only first years and Changbin’s already in his third year. They’re always saying they have work they need to do when they’re doing pretty much anything else but their assignments.
“Why did you ask about your cigs?” Felix looks away from the screen for a split second to glance at Changbin.
The older man sucks a breath in through his teeth as he contemplates it. Felix and Jisung would definitely call him crazy, but they’ve lived with each other for the past four years, so it’s not like there’s any secrets between the three. “I thought I saw someone in the water for a moment, but then they disappeared.”
“In this temperature?” Jisung snorts. “You’d have to be crazy to take a dip in the ocean during winter.” Even though his attention is solely on the game, he takes a few glances towards his housemate when he realises that Changbin seems way more spaced out than usual. “You alright, hyung?” 
“Yeah,” Changbin nods quickly. “I just feel like that person may have not been… a human.” He doesn’t really know how the thought even came to him. It just popped out of nowhere when he swears that he saw a tailfin following after the person. 
“What?” Felix pauses the game and turns to look at him, earning a whine from Jisung. “What else could they have been?” Now Changbin really thinks he’s gone mad. He knows that if he actually spoke his thoughts, then Jisung and Felix would probably end up laughing at him. 
“I don’t know, man, I just feel like it could’ve been something else,” he shrugs, “like a mermaid or something.” 
“Merfolk went extinct years ago, hyung,” Jisung states, emphasizing on ‘years’, as he nudges Felix’s shoulder and unpauses the game. “Humans pushed the merfolk to extinction even before we were born. That includes sirens.” 
“Yeah, but you know how sometimes scientists declare a species extinct but it turns out they were just hiding somewhere else.” 
Felix and Jisung both pause the game once again before turning to look at their older housemate. “No way,” Felix shakes his head. 
“They’d have to have been really good at hiding or else the humans would’ve found them by now,” Jisung nods. 
“You think maybe the joint I gave you a few hours ago still has its effects on you?” he teases as he jabs Changbin’s bicep with his finger. In response, he yelps and swats at Felix’s hand until he leaves him alone. 
“I’m telling you, I know what I saw,” Changbin grumbles. “There was a fin following after them.” 
“It was probably another creature,” Jisung guesses as he turns back to the TV. “You know how water sprites can get too. Maybe it was one of them playing tricks on you.” 
“Water sprites don’t take the forms of other water creatures,” he states matter-of-factly. 
“Alright, Mr ‘I study magical creatures’,” he rolls his eyes. “Don’t think too much about it. It could’ve been something else.” 
“I don’t study magical creatures, I study the ocean’s ecosystem, asshole,” Changbin nags and reaches over Felix to punch Jisung’s arm. The younger man lets out an exaggerated howl of pain as he writhes around. 
“Felix, hyung is bullying me!” he whines. 
“Sounds like a you problem,” Felix snorts just as he manages to knock out Jisung’s character. “I win!” He shoots up from the couch with his arms up in the air, “I won because you’re too busy teasing Changbin hyung!” Jisung lets out an even louder whine. 
“That’s unfair! We have to play again! Let’s play another round!”
“It’s not unfair! I won!” Changbin crosses his arms over his chest, amused as he watches the younger men argue about whether or not they should play another game. They annoy him, sure, but Changbin’s harboured a soft spot for his housemates. As much as Felix makes him want to throw him out of the window and how Jisung makes him want to lock him in his own room, Changbin would do anything to keep them safe and happy. The feeling’s mutual across the three of them. 
Jisung, the designated demon of the house, once broke into Felix’s crazy ex-girlfriend's house and stole his hoodie back for him only to have objects thrown at him by her. Felix, the house mum, once almost lit a car on fire to try and save Jisung from being beat up by a gang of hooligans. Changbin, on the other hand, pays the most in rent and likes to use it against his two younger friends—he would prefer to call them his brothers. A happy family that the three of them decided to build together when they had started college. 
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Changbin finds himself at the beach at the same time a few days later, cigarette held between his index and his middle finger. He’s come to terms that there’s no way it was a mermaid—he studies them, of course he would know what a mermaid looks like even in the dark. However, tonight, he finds himself sitting on one of the rockier areas of the coast, sitting cross-legged on the almost frozen  stone and looking out at the ocean as he smokes his problems away. 
He’s lucky that the three of them are able to afford a small house nearer to the ocean or else he would’ve been more stressed out. Being near the ocean as a student who studies marine ecosystems means that it’s easier for Changbin to do research without having to travel so far away to get to the water. 
As he looks out, he sees it again. Changbin almost falls off of the rocks and into the water when he sees what looks like a person sticking their head out of the water, eyes watching him intently. He sits upright, leaning closer to get a better look only to watch them dive back into the water. That’s when he sees it. 
A tailfin. 
“No fucking way," Changbin gasps as he crawls closer to the edge of the rocks. The waves move gently, the darkness and the movement obstructing any kind of view he would have into the water. His hand holds himself up as he slowly gets closer and closer towards the water when the head re-emerges, right in front of his face. Changbin loses his balance out of shock, his hand slipping against the rock and his body rolling off of the edge until he's enveloped in cold. 
Freezing cold.
He panics.
Changbin can't breathe. He feels the salt water gushing into his lungs and all he feels is pain. His throat burns, his eyes sting, his lungs hurt. Black spots start to fill his vision while his limbs frantically try to push himself up towards the water's surface, but it's too cold for his limbs to even move properly. He'll drown if he doesn't get out and if it isn't the water that kills him, then the hypothermia definitely will. The more he panics, the more frantic his arms become, but it’s not like Changbin’s actually able to control himself since the only thought in his mind is swim to the surface.
Arms wrap around Changbin's torso when he feels his body starting to give up but it's too dark for him to see as they pull him into a darker area. He's shoved out of the water and onto stone, his lungs painfully coughing out all the water out as he heaves to catch his breath. He looks around the area once he's more composed, only now noticing that he's in what looks like a cave. Changbin's eyes stop at a pair of eyes peeking out from right above the water's surface, staring at him. 
"Y-You…" Changbin trails when he realises how cold it is, his arms moving to wrap around himself in a feeble attempt to keep himself warm. The head further emerges, tilting curiously and watching him. Changbin manages to push out a gasp despite his shivers, her skin is patched with tinges of blue and green, scales crawling up the side of her face. Her pupils were shaped like slits, almost cat-like. "You're… a m-mermaid." Her head tilts curiously as she lowers into the water momentarily. She lifts herself out of the water further to take a closer look at Changbin. “Do you not understand me?” he questions. The mermaid blinks a few times, her pupils dilating when she sees the way Changbin hugs his soaked jacket tighter around himself. She slips underneath the water despite the human’s protests. “F-Fuck,” he curses as he realises how much shit he’s in. Not only does his throat hurt like hell now, but he knows that if he doesn’t get out of the cave or find a way to find warmth, he’ll freeze to death. 
A few moments pass before the mermaid pops back out with a plastic zip lock bag in her hands. She puts it onto the ground and pushes it towards him. Changbin looks between her and the plastic bag before taking it, ripping it open to see a perfectly dry winter coat. He turns back to look at the mermaid who’s returned to hiding half of her face underneath the water and only her eyes watching him. Changbin immediately changes out of his wet clothes and slips himself into the coat, closing his eyes as he lets out a sigh of relief when he feels his body slowly starting to warm up. When his eyes open, Changbin notices the mermaid still watching him, her webbed hands holding onto the edge of the cave to keep herself afloat. 
“I thought mermaids were supposed to speak human languages,” he thinks out loud. Once again, her head tilts curiously. “Since you guys were said to be extinct, then I don’t think it’s a surprise that you don’t understand me.” Changbin hugs himself tighter as he looks around the cave, the mermaid watching him and looking around as well. How is he supposed to get home? The only creature that knows where he is doesn’t even understand what he’s saying! 
“Mermaid,” he calls out, the creature immediately perking up at the sound of his voice. “Wait, do you understand me?” The way she simply stares at him makes Changbin realise that she just reacted because she heard him talk. He stuffs his hand into the wet pocket of his jeans, pulling out his phone. Changbin presses the home button and watches as the screen flickers before turning white and shutting down right after. He sits awkwardly as he thinks about what to do next. He lifts his head, making eye contact with the mermaid—who’s been watching him this whole time—and knows that she’s the only way he can get home. 
“I-I need to get home, mermaid.” Once again, she tilts her head as she tries to process what she’s saying. Changbin bits his lip as he looks around the cave, trying to figure out a way to get her to understand. “Home,” he says as he lifts up three rocks, building a really crappy fort. “I need to get back to where I live.” The mermaid watches his hands, her mind trying it’s best to figure out what he’s showing her. Changbin sighs when she shakes her head. He lifts his hands over his heads to try and signal a roof, “my house.” The mermaid blinks a few times before diving back underwater, leaving the human to dwell with his own thoughts and company while trying to figure out how to at least get back to shore. 
A few minutes pass and Changbin decides that he might as well explore the cave. He doesn’t even know if the mermaid will return anytime soon, so he stands up and looks around. There’s little light that shines into the cave and it’s only because of a few large cracks that scatter the cave walls, but it’s enough to help him barely navigate through the area. Rock formations jut out from the sides and Changbin’s careful to try not to bump into them, his biggest fear being accidentally stabbing himself with a rock formation if he’s careless. He follows the inside of the cave only to realise that he’s trapped. The only way out is to jump into the small body of water right in front of him. Changbin stares at the pool, panic starting to creep throughout him when he realises that this cave is most likely underwater when the tide rises. 
A glow emits from underneath the water’s surface and it makes Changbin’s face contort in confusion as he watches the way it moves around. It gets closer to the surface before the mermaid re-emerges, obviously watching him in confusion since he’s not in the same place as before, but a water sprite is sitting on her shoulder this time.
“The mermaid tells me that you’re stuck,” the sprite claims as he flies off of the mermaid’s shoulder and moves closer to look at Changbin. The dark blue sprite is small—very small. He’s probably only the size of Changbin’s finger, small blue wings holding him up in the air as he hovers around the human’s head. “How did you even end up here?” 
“I-I saw the mermaid, but I thought they were extinct and I fell in,” Changbin admits softly. The sprite turns around to look at the mermaid who watches from the water. He mutters something in a language that Changbin can’t understand and the mermaid responds in the same language. The sprite snaps back at her and she scowls as she lowers herself into the water.
“I can cast a spell on you that would keep you alive while we bring you back to the beach, but you can’t tell anyone about her,” the sprite sighs as he turns to face Changbin. “Mermaids went into hiding for a reason and I don’t want some clumsy human to be the reason that their numbers go down again. I’m Hyunjin by the way.” Hyunjin climbs up his hair and stands right on top of his head, “I’ll give you an air bubble so you’ll stay dry too.”
“Thanks…?” Changbin trails off as he watches a translucent bubble wrap around him, suddenly very aware of how quiet it is inside of the spell. “Woah,” he gasps when he hears his voice bouncing back to him. 
“Yeah, there’s a lot of echo in this bubble and you’ll still feel cold, but it’ll help you get home,” he mumbles. “Walk towards where (Y/n) is.” 
“(Y/n)?”
“The mermaid.” The tiny creature stays on Changbin’s head as he walks towards the pool. “She’s too nice to humans for her own good. I told her a billion times to not interact with them, but she still goes ahead and saves you.” Ouch. Changbin makes a mental note that Hyunjin’s a bit of a dick, but he knows that if he says anything now, the sprite might just leave him in the cave to die. 
Honestly, Changbin doesn’t really blame Hyunjin for not liking humans. His species has unfortunately had a very bad history with the other creatures that live in the same world as them. Where humans had dominated the entire world, forcing every other creature into a form of either submission or alliance, merfolk were only deemed extinct presumably due to the insane water pollution. The other creatures don’t exactly like the humans either. Even without any sort of magic, humans had still managed to force every species to live simultaneously despite destroying everything else. 
“(Y/n) has to push you back to the beach,” Hyunjin speaks up as Changbin slowly climbs into the water. “I’ll dry your clothes and get your phone working once we’re there, but only if you promise not to tell anyone about her.” The human notes how the bubble’s temperature slowly starts to drop. Changbin would probably succumb to the cold of the water if he wasn’t wearing the coat.
“So, the merfolk still exist?” Changbin questions once he’s completely submerged in the water. It’s a strange feeling to be floating so effortlessly despite being able to feel the force of the waves and the water moving around him. Once in the water, he has a slightly better view of the mermaid swimming closer to him. Unfortunately, he’s only barely able to make out the colour of her scales with how dark it is underwater. Her turquoise tail is long, lighter blue scales scattering her body and fading into a more human-like tone as they her torso. Her ‘hair’ is just as it’s described in theory in Changbin’s classes; it’s just an added fin that grows out and only appears like it’s hair. He wonders whether it’s as soft as scientists had described it to be. 
“Yes, they still exist,” Hyunjin nods before muttering something to (Y/n). The mermaid nods, moving closer to rest her hands against the bubble and starts to push it through the water. “Merfolk got so scared for their existence that they decided to ‘go extinct’ to protect themselves. Humans were pushing them beyond their limits as a living, feeling species.” 
“Well yeah, humans are greedy,” he sighs. “What about the other creatures?” 
“Dragons don’t really care since they can eat you guys in seconds. Most pegasi stay in their own dimension unless they’re needed here; that’s why you don’t see them as much anymore. Kobolds stay hidden in ships, werewolves stay in the mountains and vampires build their own mansions away from human civilisations. Most of the creatures that can travel to their own world try to stay away from your world for the sake of their own safety.”
“Have we really pushed you guys that far?” Changbin turns to his shoulder when he feels Hyunjin move off of his head. 
“Unfortunately, yes,” the sprite nods. “Soon, your world will be rid of magical creatures because they’ve run away and we’ll go to becoming nothing but myths for your future generations.” He turns around to mutter something to (Y/n) as they approach the beach. “Start walking. We can’t risk (Y/n) being seen. At least if they see me on your shoulder, they’ll think I’m the only one helping you.” Changbin does as Hyunjin says, starting to walk just as the bubble hits the inclining ground underneath the water and moving towards where the waves hit the beach. He turns around for a moment giving a wave towards the mermaid who returns it with a small smile on her face. 
“Thanks, Hyunjin,” Changbin says as he's back on the beach and the sprite hovers right in front of him. “I won’t tell anyone about this.” 
“You better,” he clicks his tongue in annoyance. “I knew it was a bad idea for her to linger in shallow waters.” Hyunjin does as he promises, using his magic to dry up Changbin’s clothes as well as getting his phone back to working order. “Be more careful next time. You humans are always so reckless when it comes to your life.” 
“I was just curious,” he shrugs in response, watching his phone start up. 
“Too curious for your own good.” Changbin ignores the comment. His eyes widen when he sees the messages spamming his phone from Jisung and Felix. 
“Shit,” he curses softly as he quickly replies to the both of them. 
“Head on home before your friends worry,” Hyunjin says when he hears the spammed sound of the notification. Changbin sticks his phone back into his pocket before looking back at the sprite. 
“Again, thank you. I’ll try not to fall into the water next time.” 
“In the chance that it ever happens again, just call out for me. I’ll be able to hear you,” he gives the human a smile and Changbin thinks that he may not be as cold as he would like to show. “But if you fall too many times, I might consider just leaving you there,” Hyunjin snickers right after. 
“Okay, now you’re just being an ass,” he scoffs with a smile on his face. “I’ll be more careful next time, I promise.”
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Changbin wakes to the sound of his alarm beeping from the other side of his room, something he does to force him to get out of bed. He lets out a whiney groan as he rolls over, willing himself to ignore it until the alarm snoozes. Jisung, however, refuses to allow that. 
The bedroom door swings open to a very disgruntled looking Jisung who marches over to Changbin’s bed and whacks him with a pillow, “It’s a fucking Sunday, turn the damn thing off.” 
“You’re already here—you do it,” he yawns. Jisung’s face twinges with annoyance as he whacks Changbin another time. “God—I. Ah!” Changbin yells, thrashing around his bed before sitting up to see the younger still staring at him. “I’ll turn it off! You can leave!” 
“I also wanted to let you know that Felix’s already up and making breakfast,” he mumbles, standing at the edge of his bed like a Sims character. 
“Give me twenty minutes,” he grumbles and lays back down. 
“If you’re not out by then, I’m eating your portion,” Jisung giggles mischievously as he scrambles out of his room. 
“Fuck you,” Changbin groans as he kicks the cushion by his foot and sends it flying in Jisung’s direction, only for it to hit the door just as he closes it. Changbin rolls over in his bed, too lazy to actually go ahead and turn the alarm off and instead opts for just letting it snooze on it’s own. He stays in bed for a little longer before dragging himself out and to his desk across the room where his phone is. He doesn’t remember setting an alarm for the weekends, so Changbin assumes that he must’ve accidentally turned on one of the weekend alarms without realising it. 
Making sure to turn the alarm off, Changbin sighs as he looks through his notifications to make sure he hasn’t received anything important overnight. Once certain that there’s nothing important, he moves to taking a shower and putting on the black hoodie he wears everyday along with his jeans before stepping out of his room and making his way towards the dining room where Felix and Jisung are. 
“You took twenty-one minutes,” Jisung giggles, “means I get your serving of waffles.” Just as he’s about to reach for the waffle-filled plate, Felix swats at his hand with the silicone spatula. 
“Those are for Changbin hyung, you dick,” he scolds, earning a whine and a pout from the hungry boy. 
“Thanks, Felix,” Changbin hums as he sits down and pulls the plate towards him. “Do you guys have anything important today?” 
“It’s Sunday,” Felix shakes his head, “I’ve finished all my assignments for this week, so I’m probably just going to head back to bed after breakfast.” 
“Same for me,” Jisung hums with a mouthful of food. “I have an assignment due Tuesday, but that’s for something future Sungie has to handle.” 
“I’ll do it for you,” he offers and sits himself down, digging into his own plate of waffles. 
Changbin scoffs at that, “stop doing Jisung’s assignments for him. He should be paying you.” 
“He does pay me,” Felix corrects him, “he gives me five dollars for every two hundred words that I write.”
“I really shouldn’t be condoning this behaviour,” he sighs before turning to Jisung. “Damn it, Ji, cut Felix some slack!” 
“I don’t ask him to do it, he offers and I just pay him afterwards,” Jisung shrugs as he takes another bite of his waffle. “Don’t worry about it, the university won’t know.” 
“You know, that’s not the point, but I doubt that I can stop you…” Changbin trails off. He feels like he should be at least a bit more strict with his friends, but he also knows that Jisung really couldn’t give two shits about his academics. He just happened to luck out when he met Felix; a weed dealer who doesn’t even have to try to write papers worth distinctions. Jisung’s less book smart than he is street smart. He spends his time making friends with not-so-nice people that actually offer more convenience to him than they do company. As much as they have very questionable morals, they’re loyal to Jisung only because he sells them Felix’s edibles at a good price. 
Changbin, on the other hand, is in between the two of them. He doesn’t have a 4.0 GPA like Felix does and even though he’s more extroverted than Jisung is, he prefers not to go around and make friends with dangerous people. Changbin’s just… Changbin. He’s turning twenty-four soon, he’s in his final year of university and he’s spent his entire academic life getting slightly higher than average grades and as extroverted as he is, Changbin prefers sticking to his small group of friends. He’s able to blend into groups and make friends easily, but Felix and Jisung are the only friends that he’s actually willingly kept around for more than two years. 
“Hyung, if you want me to do your assignments, I’ll do them,” Felix offers, “no charge.” 
“Uhh, I’ll pass,” Changbin shakes his head. “I’m pretty sure it’ll be suspicious because my grades would jump from merits to distinctions overnight.” 
“Ah, I can dumb them down for you, I don’t mind.” 
“Felix, you’re not doing my assignments.” 
“Felix writes great essays, though!” Jisung pipes up. 
“Ji, you should really be doing your own assignments, man,” Changbin sighs. 
“I do do my assignments,” he huffs, “I just need the extra help sometimes.” 
“I don’t mind either way—it’s better than watching you guys fail,” Felix shrugs. Changbin can’t stop the smile that makes its way on his face when he sees Jisung trying to steal some of Felix’s food. “No, dude, fuck off,” Felix grumbles as he swats his hand away. 
“I just want a little more,” Jisung gives him a toothy grin as he stabs his fork into the waffle. 
“Jisung! Fuck off! This is mine!” Felix slaps his hand away, but it doesn’t stop Jisung who continues to try and steal his food. Changbin breathes out a laugh as he watches them fight, wondering whether or not he needs to get involved before deciding that it’s too early in the morning for him to do anything. 
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Changbin stands on the shoreline, cigarette between his fingers as he looks out at the ocean. Only this time, he’s looking for the mermaid. Maybe he’s foolish for thinking that she’d return after the whole incident and Hyunjin—most likely scolding her for letting a human see her—having to save him, but Changbin wants to know more about her species. Even if he can’t communicate with her, maybe he’d be able to get a better look at her tail… which is kinda creepy. Changbin’s being creepy. 
He groans when he realises how weird he seems, taking a huff from his cig and letting his chest fill with warmth, but he almost chokes when he sees the familiar figure watching him from the distance, head poking out of the water. It’s the mermaid! 
And Hyunjin
Changbin feels himself shrinking when he sees the water sprite flying towards him, stopping right in front of his face with his hands on his hips. “Back at the beach again?” Hyunjin raises an eyebrow. Changbin’s about to answer when the sprite starts sniffing the air, his gaze moving down to look at the cigarette in his hand. “Oh.” 
“What ‘oh’?” 
“Is that why (Y/n) says you’re here all the time?” he questions as he turns back up. 
“Uhhh, yeah,” Changbin nods. Hyunjin clicks his tongue repeatedly as he shakes his head. 
“That’s unhealthy.”
“Yeah I know,” he rolls his eyes. 
“It’s not good for the environment either,” Hyunjin adds as he moves to sit on his shoulder. “People just leave them lying around everywhere and sprites are usually the ones who clean them up because it’s gross.” 
“I actually throw them away properly, so the littering isn’t something you have to worry about,” Changbin mutters as he takes a drag. “I’ve been trying to stop for a while, cut me some slack.” 
Hyunjin gives him a look but decides against pressing him further about it and instead changes the subject, “(Y/n) wouldn’t stop bugging me about coming back to the beach. She said she wants to talk to you.” 
“What?” His head turns to look at the sprite who shrugs. 
“She’s never interacted with a human before—she’s curious.” Hyunjin keeps his eyes on (Y/n)’s figure in the distance. “You remember the rocky part of the coast you were on before you fell off? (Y/n) wants you to move there so that she can get closer to you.” Changbin’s surprised. He would’ve expected her to at least be scared instead of curious, but he obliges and makes his way towards the rocks, climbing onto the cold, damp stone and carefully making his way towards the edge. He sits right on the edge just as (Y/n)’s head pops out of the water. “Say hello.” 
“Uhm, hi,” Changbin waves at her. She smiles as she returns the wave, webbed hand raising out of the water shyly. 
“I’m gonna start saying this from her point-of-view,” the sprite tells Changbin as he turns to him before turning to (Y/n) and saying something to her. She nods immediately, speaking in her language. 
“I was so worried when you fell into the water. I heard that humans can’t handle this kind of cold like the other creatures can.” 
“Ah,” Changbin laughs awkwardly. “I was just trying to get a closer look at you since I thought that merfolk were extinct.” (Y/n) looks at Hyunjin as he speaks and she smiles, making the human feel less sheepish. 
“Then I’ll assume that I’m the first mermaid you’ve ever seen.” 
“That’s right,” he nods. “I’ve always been interested in merfolk and the ocean in general.” 
“Ahh, then maybe one day I can take you into the ocean when it’s not so cold and I can properly show you my tail!” Changbin blushes at that. (Y/n)’s smiling brightly at him with her hands clasped together. 
“I think she’s as interested in humans as you are with merfolk,” Hyunjin chuckles when he sees how excited she looks. “You should tell her about what it’s like to walk around with legs. She thinks that’s fascinating.” 
“Legs?” he turns to Hyunjin in confusion. How would Changbin be able to explain what legs are like? He’s never had to think about how his muscles function before. “I don’t know how else to explain that and I wouldn’t think that (Y/n) would be able to explain how swimming with a tail would feel like either.” 
“Wait…” the sprite trails off before realising how awkward that would be. “Yeah, never mind.”
“What’s that thing you put in your mouth every night?” Changbin turns away from Hyunjin to look at (Y/n) who’s looking at him with bright eyes holding wonder. 
“Oh, uhh, it’s a cigarette,” his hand moves to rub the back of his neck awkwardly. “I-I doubt that merfolk could actually really understand what it is, but it makes my stress lighter.”
“How can that tiny stick do that?” 
Changbin pauses before he lets out a deep sigh and shrugs, “it’s…”
“Magic,” Hyunjin blurts out. “I’ll just tell her it’s magic. She won’t understand what drugs are.”
“Do merfolk not have some form of drugs?” Changbin asks. 
“They do,” he nods, “but they think it’s magic. Don’t tell them that pufferfish are venomous—they’re going to tell you they’re magical and just make them high,” Hyunjin snickers. 
“I didn’t realise humans have magical abilities.” 
“Humans have… some,” he hums. 
“Keep in mind that you can use the ‘magic’ card any time you don’t know how to explain something to her,” Hyunjin whispers in his ear as though (Y/n) can understand him. 
“Well, some of it is magic and some of it we just find convenience from what the Earth offers us,” Changbin continues. (Y/n) lets out a hum, her figure lowering into the water to keep the gills on her neck under the waves before she comes back up slightly. 
“Hyunjin keeps telling me that humans are dangerous, but I don’t think you’re that dangerous.” The human turns to the sprite who looks at (Y/n) with narrowed eyes as he translates her words. 
“Well,” Changbin adjusts himself into a more comfortable position, his legs crossing underneath him, “it’s like humans saying sharks are dangerous. It’s a cautionary thing rather than a general thing. Humans just don’t care much for the Earth.” 
“Is that why there’s so much of your plastic in the ocean?” Changbin nods, a heavy sigh leaving past his lips. “Those bags have killed more of the creatures in my ocean than any human actually has.” 
“We know,” his lips purse into a straight line. “The only people that seem to care aren’t in actual positions of power to change that, so…” 
“That’s stupid,” (Y/n) huffs as she crosses her arms across her chest. Changbin’s eyes widen and he moves back in shock when he realises that he understood her. 
“I got tired of translating, so you guys get put under a spell that lets you both understand each other,” Hyunjin lets out a sigh as he moves to sit on the rocks beside Changbin, his arms holding him up as he smiles. 
“Y-Yeah, it is,” Changbin chuckles nervously. With Hyunjin resting by his side, Changbin feels more at ease with talking to (Y/n). He doesn’t feel so weird about it since the water sprite was literally translating what he was saying to the mermaid, making Changbin feel a bit more comfortable with the situation.
“Tell me more about humans.”
“What else is there to tell?” he tilts his head questioningly. 
“Could I touch your hand? I’ve never felt human skin before,” (Y/n)’s hand slowly nudges out of the water as she asks him and Changbin honestly feels like her sentence could’ve easily come out of a serial killer. 
“S-Sure,” he glances over at Hyunjin who shrugs in response. The human carefully moves to lay on his stomach as he holds his hand out towards the water where (Y/n) gently reaches out as well. The water isn’t too far away from the rock, making it easier for Changbin to actually allow the mermaid to hold onto his hand.
Immediately when her webbed hands touch his, she gasps, “your hands are so rough!” Her hands gently hold onto his individual fingers, pulling them away from each other and just examining it. Changbin’s lips purse together again as he just lets her do whatever she wants. “Oh, these must be fingernails,” (Y/n) mutters to herself as she lets her own fingers gently graze over his nails. Her hands are pretty much as soft as human’s skin, but Changbin would think that they feel way softer and more like what fish skin feels like without the scales. Even in the dark of night, he’s able to note where (Y/n)’s skin actually has scales and where they’re exposed. 
Only her shoulders are held above the water, her shoulders scattered with dark turquoise scales that crawl up the sides of her neck and face, barely covering the gills of her neck. Changbin also notes how the scales seem to lead down her back more than they do over her front… but he doesn’t want to look down any further because from what he remembers, merfolk don’t have anything covering their chests. 
“It’s so strange how your fingers don’t have fins connecting them,” (Y/n) speaks up after a moment. 
“We don’t live in the water, so we don’t need the fins to help us move around,” he explains. “Like our hair—it’s not a fin like yours is. Yours is supposed to help you move around in the water, but our hair is just… well it’s hair.” 
“Could I touch your hair?” she asks gently. Changbin’s cheeks redden as he—awkwardly—tries to lower his head off of the rocks without falling in. (Y/n) moves closer to the edge, one hand reaching up to hold onto the rocks before she takes a deep breath and pulls herself up so that she’s closer to his head. Changbin thanks the Lord that her chest is clothed with what looks like a top made out of marine plants. Her wet fingers gently hold onto his hair and her eyes widen further as she drops herself back into the water. “That feels so strange!” she exclaims. “Merfolk don’t actually have hair. They’re more like the fins on our fingers.” 
“Could I feel it?” Changbin asks. (Y/n) nods excitedly and pulls herself out of the water once again to briefly allow the human to touch her fins. His fingers run across the smooth fin, his lips parting in awe at the way it feels because it’s just as his textbooks say, if not softer. “That’s so cool,” he breathes out once she’s lowered herself back into the water. “Your skin feels smooth like fish skin.” 
“Well, yeah, we are technically fishes,” (Y/n) chuckles. “I would love to take you into the water to show you my tail, but I don’t think you’ll be able to see anything in the dark.” 
“I also can’t breathe underwater,” he reminds her. Her lips form an ‘o’ at the realisation and (Y/n) turns to Hyunjin with a smile on her face. 
“I’m not putting any more spells on Changbin,” the sprite shakes his head. “I’m tired, it’s almost 4 a.m., I’m not doing that.” Wait a minute, 4 a.m.?!
“Oh shit,” Changbin sits up and whips his phone out of pocket only to realise that Hyunjin’s right. “Shit, I have to get home before my friends start to worry.” He looks back to (Y/n) to see how her mood’s visibly dampened, a frown pulling on her lips. “I can’t spend too long away or else they get upset and I don’t want to worry them.” 
“Will you return tomorrow?” she questions.
He nods with a reassuring smile, “I promise I’ll be back here tomorrow at the same time.”
“Alright,” (Y/n)’s eyes light up and Changbin thinks it’s cute. “Goodnight, Changbin.”
“You too, (Y/n).” 
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Changbin wakes the next morning and for the first time in a while, he’s awake before his alarm starts ringing. His eyes look around his bedroom as he wonders why he’s awake so early when he’s pretty sure he slept at 5 a.m after getting back from the beach. He sits up, feeling even weirder when he realises that he feels super refreshed. Changbin looks around his room as he throws his covers off of himself, standing up and making his way towards his desk to pick up his phone. 
7:26 a.m.
His alarm won’t ring until 9 and his classes are only in the afternoon., which makes Changbin wonder why he’s awake so early? Felix and Jisung are definitely still asleep—both of them barely ever have morning classes—and Changbin contemplates what to do since he doesn’t feel like he’ll be able to fall asleep again. 
The beach!
Changbin perks up. He can visit the beach. No one would be there so early in the morning! He doesn’t even bother to shower—he can always shower when he gets back before he heads to campus—so he just throws on one of his really thick jackets, grabs his pack of cigarettes and his phone before quietly stepping out of the house, making sure to leave Felix a text to let him know where he’s heading. 
His body stiffens when he feels the cold wind slap him in the face, regretting not grabbing his beanie before leaving, but Changbin doesn’t feel like heading back into the house because he doesn’t want to waste any time. By the time he reaches the beach, the Sun’s raised just a little bit more and the tide is still low. He climbs to the rocky coast he was at the night before, sitting on the edge and looking out at the ocean, hoping maybe Hyunjin or (Y/n) are lingering around anywhere.
Changbin feels himself perk up when he sees a familiar set of eyes peeking out from just above the water’s surface, (Y/n)’s head immediately lifting out of the water with a big smile on her face when she realises who it is. 
“You’re out here early,” she comments when she swims to the rocks. 
“Kinda surprised myself,” he chuckles. “I’m not awake this early and my alarm will only ring in a few hours.” 
“You left the beach only two hours ago,” (Y/n) claims. 
Changbin nods at that, “which makes this a bit more confusing on my end.” 
“It’s because I casted a spell on you,” Hyunjin’s voice speaks up as he emerges from the water. “I had a feeling you would have trouble sleeping, so I casted a sleep spell on your mind to get you refreshed in a few hours time.” 
“Oh,” he watches as the sprite moves to stand on his knee, “thank you, Hyunjin. I haven’t gotten proper sleep in so long.” 
“Don’t mention it,” he smiles as he takes a seat on Changbin’s knee. Hyunjin’s change in personality towards the human makes him wonder whether the sprite’s already starting to warm up to him.
“Changbin.” (Y/n)’s voice makes him turn back to look at the mermaid. “What do you do during the day?” 
“I’m a student, so I’m usually at college until the evening,” he hums, “after I get home, I just spend the rest of the day with my housemates until it’s past midnight and I come to the beach to clear my mind.” She lets out an ‘ooh’ while Changbin talks, intently listening to everything he has to tell. “I live with two of my friends. They’re also college students, so we like to get things done together.”
“Are they nice?” 
“They’re amazing,” he chuckles. “I love them. Jisung made a Spotify playlist for the three of us once and it’s all we listen to now. He’s a nice guy, but sometimes he gets a bit crazy and thrashes the house until Felix has the urge to lock him outside of the house. Felix likes to cook, so he makes us breakfast and dinner. He’s a good cook.”
“Your friends sound like good company,” Hyunjin muses. 
“Very much so,” Changbin nods feverishly. “They’re really important to me. Whenever I’m at the beach for too long at night, Jisung’s usually the one to text me and ask me to come home. If I don’t respond to him, then Felix will call me instead.” 
“So that night when you fell into the water, it was your friends that you mentioned?” (Y/n) asks. 
“Yeah, they scolded me when I got home because I just said that I lost track of time.” Changbin leans back on his arms, getting himself more comfortable. “I feel bad because I worry them a lot. They don’t usually say anything about it, but I can tell that they’d really wish I would be a bit more aware of what’s happening around me.” 
“Why so?” 
“The cigarettes are one thing,” he pulls the pack out of the pocket of his jacket and shows it to (Y/n), “Jisung wishes I would stop because he doesn’t want anything bad happening to me in the future. Felix hints at it sometimes, but he can’t say much about it because he smokes weed every once in a while.” 
“Weed?” (Y/n)’s head tilts curiously. 
“It gives the same effect as pufferfish magic,” Hyunjin explains and her lips part in understanding. 
“Yeah, but cigs are unhealthy,” Changbin continues. “I’ve tried stopping before, but every time I try, I end up crawling back to them.”
(Y/n) stays quiet for a moment before hey eyes flick to Hyunjin. “Hyunjin, could you cast a spell on me so that I can breathe above water?” The sprite whips his head towards her and his eyebrows furrow. 
“Why?” his eyes narrow. 
“Just do it.” Hyunjin hesitates before sighing, climbing off of Changbin’s lap to jump onto (Y/n)’s head. Changbin watches as he holds his hands out, palms facing outwards before a bright light flashes from his hands. 
“That should do the trick,” he mutters as he jumps off of her head to return to his previous spot on Changbin’s knee. (Y/n) blinks a few times before diving into the water only to jump out and grab onto the rocks, moving to sit beside Changbin where her tail hangs into the water. The human stares at her with wide eyes, only now aware of just how vibrant the colours of her scales are in the light of the day. 
To Changbin’s shock, (Y/n) grabs onto his pack of cigs out of his hands and pulls the top open, pulling one of them out. She looks at it for a moment before throwing it into the ocean along with the rest of the pack. 
“(Y/n)!” Hyunjin gasps. Changbin’s eyes almost bulge out of his skull as he watches the pack fly out until it splashes into the water. “What are you doing?! You’re littering!” The sprite squeals as he flies out to chase after the pack of cigarettes that’s now unusable. 
“I know,” she shrugs as she turns back to the human, “but if it helps you with stopping something that’s unhealthy, then so be it.” His jaw drops when he sees the way (Y/n)’s shoulders slump, her body relaxing as she looks out at the horizon. She turns to him and tilts her head questioningly. 
“Oh,” he snaps out of his trance, “it’s nothing. I just—you do realise I can buy another pack, right?” 
“If you buy another pack, I’ll throw that one out too,” she simply says. 
“You’re adding to the pollution, (Y/n),” Hyunjin huffs when he returns. “The sprites are going to be really mad at you if I’m not able to get rid of them before they find it.”
“Then just always stay at my side,” (Y/n) grins as she pets his head with her finger. Hyunjin whines as he shoves her hand away from him. Changbin watches at the way she interacts with him, his heart filling with a sense of joy at the way she continuously teases Hyunjin and how he seems like the more stable friend in their dynamic; it reminds him of his friends. “Changbin?” Her voice snaps him out of his thoughts. 
“Hm? Yeah?” he shakes his head for a moment. 
“You alright?”
“Y-Yeah,” Changbin nods, “I was just… thinking.” (Y/n) smiles. 
“What kind of thoughts move around in your human brain?” He puffs his cheeks with air as he turns away to look at the ocean, humming in thought as he wonders what else he should share with her. 
“I feel like I’ve spoken a lot about myself since we’ve met,” Changbin says after a moment and turns to look at (Y/n), “tell me more about you.” Her eyes widen in surprise, realising that he has been only talking about the human world. 
“I don’t know what to start with,” she hums as her back subconsciously straightens. 
“What’s it like living underwater? Do mermaids live in something similar to cities?”
(Y/n)’s lips jut out in a small pout as she thinks about it, something that Changbin notes as cute in his mind. “Kind of. Water sprites merfolk pretty much live together, so we use their magic to build structures. Merfolk don’t have the same machines that humans do, all we have is magic and using similar machines would actually hurt the ocean.”
“Do you live with other merfolk?” he questions. 
“I live in my own cave,” she shakes her head, “Hyunjin’s the only one that lives with me because I’ve known him since forever and my parents thought it would be safer if I actually lived with another creature.” Silence falls between them, Hyunjin starting to zone out because he’s starting to feel like a third-wheel. (Y/n) and Changbin sit by each other’s sides, looking out at the ocean and letting the sound of the water moving fill the space instead. “Would you like to come into the ocean one day?” she asks as she turns to look at Changbin. 
He turns to her and nods, “it’s too cold for me to go into the water. The winter cold is harsh to humans.” 
“Spring is in a few weeks. We can wait for then.”
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“What are you doing for Spring break?” Felix asks as he plops himself onto the couch, head dropping onto Changbin’s lap. Jisung emerges from his room not long after, falling directly onto his unfortunate housemate who yells in response. “Ji, what the fuck?!” he groans. 
“Hmm, comfy,” Jisung giggles as he rubs his face onto Felix’s t-shirt. The blond sighs, knowing that he can’t push Jisung off and instead just accepts the fact that he is now a cushion. 
“Spring break?” Changbin questions, completely ignoring the fact that Jisung is crushing Felix. “I think I’m staying here. My parents have work so they’re gonna be flying out a lot. My sister’s still in Norway, so even if I move back home, I’ll be lonely.” 
“We can keep you company,” Jisung hums. “My parents are out of town, so I’ll only be going home in the last week of Spring.” 
“My family thinks it’ll be better if I wait since I’m already planning on heading back to Australia during Summer break,” Felix hums as well. 
“Then I guess it’s back to our trio shenanigans,” Changbin chuckles as he looks up at the TV. He feels slightly The screen’s hooked up to Felix’s Netflix and he put on whatever he was watching last which just so happened to be Bunny Girl Senpai. 
“Is that girl wearing a bunny costume?” Jisung questions as he sits upright to look at the screen properly.
“Yeah,” he nods. “Why? You a furry?” 
Jisung scoffs, “you’re the most likely to be a furry, Lix. You’re girlfriend’s a puppy hybrid.” 
“Doesn’t mean I’m a furry, Sung,” Felix shoots up, “that’s fucking mean and don’t ever say that in front of Ava.”
“Furry.” 
“You’re a dick,” he scoffs as he returns to laying his head on Changbin’s lap. 
“Jisung, you do remember that the guy you have a crush on now is a cat hybrid, right?” Changbin snorts. 
“Yeah!” Felix huffs. “Minho hyung’s a cat hybrid!”
“I don’t have a crush on Minho hyung, I have a crush on KC!” he whines before slapping his hand over his mouth. Felix and Changbin’s heads whip to him with wide eyes. 
“You do have a crush on KC!” he gasps. 
“Looks like we were right all along,” Changbin chuckles. Jisung pauses before letting out a sigh followed by a whine when he realises what he’s done. 
“Be glad that I don’t go share the same classes as you and KC or else I’d tease you all the time,” Felix snickers. Jisung scowls at that as he stands up, muttering curses under his breath as he heads back into his bedroom. 
The two giggle as they watch him. “What about you, Changbin hyung?” Felix turns to look at him. “Do you have anyone that has your eye?” 
“We’re not tweens, Lix,” he snorts. 
“Doesn’t mean that we can’t talk about relationships,” he claims. 
Changbin sighs, “no, I do not have anyone on my mind.” (Y/n). His brain momentarily halts when he remembers the mermaid. “No one on campus has really caught my attention,” he hums. Felix side-eyes him as he turns to look at the TV, the feeling that Changbin’s lying lingering in his gut. He’s known his housemate long enough to tell when he’s lying and Felix can already see it from the way he blinks exactly three times after speaking. Talk about being observant. 
“If you get a partner, you’d tell us, right?” 
“Of course,” Changbin nods as he pats Felix’s head. Hyunjin watches from the ceiling, cloaked with an invisibility spell as he watches the way Changbin interacts with his friends. He knows he shouldn’t be there, it’s definitely already breached the line of being protective over his best friend and now it’s pretty much just stalking, but Hyunjin’s paranoia got the best of him. 
“Ji, if you don’t come back out, then I won’t share my popcorn with you!” Felix yells, shortly hearing the sound of Jisung’s bedroom door opening followed by his footsteps scrambling into the living room.
“Ah, don’t do that to Jisung,” Changbin laughs, “share your popcorn with him, Lix.” 
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“This is a piece of dead coral that I picked up on the way here.” (Y/n) places the greyed invertebrate into Changbin’s hands. The human looks at it in awe, amazed at the structure of it. Ever since (Y/n)’s started becoming more confident with talking to the human, Hyunjin’s been using his magic to help Changbin safely reach a cave that’s more secluded to keep any other human eyes away from the mermaid. 
“This could help a lot with a research paper I’m writing about coral reefs,” the human hums as he examines it. 
“I don’t think there’s anything else I could show you outside of the water,” she confesses softly by his side. Hyunjin’s magic also helped with letting (Y/n) breathe out of water, meaning that she’s able to actually sit on the rocks with Changbin now. Hyunjin had casted the same spell he did many times before to allow them to understand each other before disappearing because he always feels like a third-wheel around the two. The water sprite can already see that they both fancy each other, but he prefers not to say anything. 
“If it hurts to bring it out,” Changbin turns to look at her and smiles, “please don’t. I don’t want anything dying because you wanted to show it to me.” 
(Y/n) stares at him for a moment before nodding, a small smile pulling at her lips. “Maybe when it’s warmer, I could bring you into the water and show you what lies on the ocean floor. From what my parents have told me, there’s a lot of things that humans still haven’t discovered.”
“I think we’ve only actually managed to uncover about a small chunk of it—most of that with the help of water sprites and merfolk,” he nods, slipping the coral into the pocket of his coat. “But I don’t think we’ve been able to actually discover much when your species started hiding away from us.” 
“I fear that if humans re-discover our existence would only bring more harm to my people,” (Y/n) sighs. “I want to interact with your people more, but they scare me.” 
“I personally think it’s better if you stay away from us,” Changbin chuckles. “They won’t treat your kind nicely. It’s as Hyunjin says; magical creatures are running away from humans because they fear for their own safety.” The mermaid stays quiet, realising that she’s put herself at a very vulnerable situation by interacting with the human regularly. Had she been more careless, she could’ve been caught by someone who had malicious intent. “My friends still don’t know you exist, by the way,” he turns to look at her, “they think I just come to the beach to smoke.” 
“But you’ve stopped, haven’t you?” (Y/n)’s head tilts slightly. 
Changbin lets out an awkward laugh, “yeaaah, they don’t know that either.” 
“What would they do if they found out about me?” He pauses at her question. He knows that Felix and Jisung wouldn’t do anything to (Y/n) intentionally, but he also knows that they might want to see her, which would end up scaring her instead. 
“I’m worried that they might scare you,” he confesses with a chuckle. “Felix and Jisung are very… excited people. I feel like they might say something that could scare you.” 
“Are they anything like you?” she further asks. 
“Hmm,” Changbin hums, thinking about it for a moment, “they’re louder than I am—which is funny because Jisung’s an introvert—but they’re nice people. I’m just worried they might make you uncomfortable.” (Y/n) hums at that as she turns away from him to look out of the cave. 
“Would I ever be able to meet them? They sound important to you,” she says softly. 
“Maybe one day,” he shrugs, turning to follow her gaze. Their meetings are still mostly at night, meaning that Changbin gets more views of the ocean in the night than he does in the day. He thinks the ocean is gorgeous every night, but tonight is particularly serene to him. The waves are calmer than they usually are and the full moon is glowing brightly in the sky, sending a beautiful reflection off of the water. When he turns back to (Y/n), she’s staring at him, her pupils dilated, meaning she’s calm; something that Changbin’s managed to learn over the time that he's known her. Her pupils change like a cat’s does, showing her mood. He feels his stomach flutter at her gaze. 
“Sometimes I wonder what it’s like to live as a human,” (Y/n) starts, “but I also know that it would be foolish of me to give up my home in the ocean to live as a species that even has sirens wary of.” Ah right. Changbin realises that if merfolk still exist, then it’s likely that sirens still do as well since they were declared extinct not long after merfolk were. “Even though I know that, I still wonder how different it must be on land.”
“Humans are dangerous creatures, (Y/n),” Changbin mutters. “A lot of us wouldn’t hesitate to put our greed first. They would hurt you.”
She lets out a bitter laugh at that, “I know, but as Hyunjin says, my curiosity tends to get the best of me.” He turns to look at her to see the way she’s staring down at her hands. “I understand why we hide. I understand why the merfolk around me are so wary of the fact that I linger in shallow water, but I just wanted to see what humans are like. The only one I’ve ever encountered is you.” (Y/n) looks away from her hands and turns to Changbin, “but you’re not anything like I’ve heard humans are.” Changbin can feel his entire face getting hot and his ears heating up as well, the butterflies in his stomach once again erupting like they did before. “I think I’m lucky that you’re the person I encountered rather than someone else. Hyunjin says that too.” 
“Really? I feel like Hyunjin doesn’t like me, though.”
“Ah, he’s just like that,” she laughs. “Hyunjin acts all cold on the outside, but he’s really just a softy on the inside. He really likes you, but he’ll kill me if he ever finds out that I’m saying this to you. The only reason why he acts so cautious around you is because he’s worried that he may have read you wrong.” 
“He really cares about you, huh?” Changbin hums. 
(Y/n) nods, “sometimes I like to do dumb things because his reactions are always really funny.” She looks down at her hands once again before sliding herself into the water. “My skin is starting to dry out, I’m sorry,” she mutters before dipping her entire head underneath and popping back out. 
“Does anything happen if your skin dries out?” 
“It starts to hurt after a while,” she shakes her head, “but if I didn’t have Hyunjin’s spell on me, then I’d suffocate on land faster.” (Y/n) rests her arms on the edge of the cave entrance, keeping herself afloat as her chin moves to rest on the back of her hands. She watches Changbin whose eyes are glued to the night sky. She wonders why she feels so much adoration towards him. He turns away from the sky to look at (Y/n), this time holding her gaze as he tilts his head. 
“Something on your mind?” he questions. She stares at him a moment longer before climbing out of the water and returning to her spot beside him. 
“Nothing much,” (Y/n) hums. She stretches her back, letting out a small yawn before resting her head on Changbin’s shoulder, the human tensing when he feels her. “I’m just thinking about some things.” He prefers not to question her sudden skinship because honestly? Changbin doesn’t want her to move. He kinda likes it. He ignores the fact that her wet skin is making his shoulder wet instead, letting his hand move behind her. 
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When (Y/n) wakes up, Hyunjin’s floating right in front of her face. “You’re finally up,” the sprite comments as he moves away. 
“Huh?” The mermaid sits up and looks around in her bedroom. When did she get home? “What happened?”
“Changbin said you fell asleep while you were talking in the cave, so he called me and I brought you back home.” He floats away from her and towards her door, “you should really be more careful, (Y/n). Changbin won’t be the one who will hurt you—that I‘m sure of—but I fear that another human may find you and be the one who hurts you.” (Y/n) silently watches as he leaves, a sudden sense of fear running through her. Changbin definitely wouldn’t hurt her, but the chances of someone else finding her while she’s waiting for him just might be the reason she would get caught. 
(Y/n) sighs softly as she climbs off of the bed of algae, her tail pushing her towards the door where she pauses for a moment. How dangerous would it be if she were to grow feelings for Changbin? Her hand grips onto the doorknob as she thinks about it. What would happen if someone else found out that Changbin’s been hiding her from the world? Would he end up being reprimanded? (Y/n) sighs before opening her door, pushing the thought out of her head and heading into the living room where Hyunjin is hovering around, flying from wall to wall as he cleans up. 
The sprite turns around at the sound of her door, “Changbin asked if it was possible for him to bring his friends to the beach.”
“Oh.” Hyunjin stares at her for a moment longer before sighing, placing the gemstones in his hands onto the shelf before moving towards her. 
“Are you sure you want to meet more humans?” he asks. Hyunjin feels like he trusts Changbin enough to bring only good people to meet (Y/n), but he still worries about how she feels. “You tend to rush into things, I just wanna make sure.” 
“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that,” she confesses. “Is it bad that I do? I know it’s dangerous, but I want to know more about Changbin.” Hyunjin eyes her for a moment before letting out another sigh. 
“You’re known him for barely three months and you already like him,” he mutters. (Y/n) face flushes pink as she looks at him. His arms cross over his chest, “if you really want to, then I’ll allow it, but the moment something seems off then I’m hiding you immediately.” She perks up, head nodding excitedly. “Maybe it would be good if people he trusted knew who he was meeting. That way there would be reassurance coming from above water as well,” Hyunjin thinks out loud as he turns around. “I’m also worried that they may scare you off.” 
“Changbin mentioned that too,” she claims. 
“If you’re absolutely sure, then I’ll fly out to Changbin’s place now and let him know,” he says. 
(Y/n)’s face contorts in confusion, “why do you know where he lives?” 
“Uhh,” Hyunjin freezes because now he has to tell her that he’s followed Changbin home before. “Well…” 
“Hyunjin…” her eyes narrow. 
“I may or may not have followed him home once because I wanted to see whether or not we could trust him,” he admits with an awkward chuckle. 
“Hyunjin,” (Y/n) groans. 
“He didn’t know I was there!” Hyunjin defends. “None of his housemates knew I was there! I just wanted to see what he was actually like.” 
“And what did you learn from that?” Her arms cross over her chest as she awaits his answer. 
“He’s… a good guy.” (Y/n)’s arms loosen and her face softens. “His friends seem like good people. I like Jisung particularly; he’s funny. I think you would appreciate Felix’s parent-like behaviour with Changbin. I don’t think I could find anything nasty on him that could hint to him probably wanting to expose your existence to the humans. He’s good. If you have feelings for him, then I’ll do my best to help hide the both of you to give you time together.” Her arms fall to her side at her lips part. “I’m only doing this because I trust him.” Hyunjin moves until he’s directly in front of (Y/n)’s face, “but you have to promise me that you’ll still be careful.” 
“Of course,” she breathes out with a nod. She raises her hand, allowing the sprite to hold onto her finger. Hyunjin’s always been really tiny due to just his species being generally small, but (Y/n)’s always found it adorable. They’ve known each other since (Y/n) was born. Hyunjin’s lifespan as a water sprite is long, but he was only born a few years before the mermaid was. Since their parents were friends, (Y/n) and Hyunjin spent pretty much their entire childhood together and they’ve gone past the need to tell each other that they see each other as family. 
“I’ll head on over to Changbin’s place, then,” Hyunjin smiles as he lets go of her finger. 
“You might freak him out if he realises the fact that you know where he lives,” (Y/n) snorts. 
“Ah, he’s a smart guy. He’ll put the pieces together,” he chuckles, shaking his head before bidding the mermaid goodbye and leaving her home. (Y/n)’s cave wasn’t too far from other merfolk, but it was far enough that it was closer to the surface. There are only two other merfolk that live a few miles away from her cave, but merfolk spend most of their time with creatures they are familiar with and seldom mix around with other merfolk they don’t know. The distance from the shore to the cave is far from humans, making it quite a long course through the water before Hyunjin’s able to reach the familiar beach of Changbin’s town. He pops out of the water, his wings unfurling before carrying him straight to the human’s house. 
Hyunjin doesn’t really bother to knock and instead flies into the open window of Changbin’s bedroom only to find him laying in bed, snores leaving his mouth with his blanket pulled all the way up to his chin. The sprite purses his lips into a straight line as he pulls the window close. It’s no wonder Changbin’s all bundled up; his window must’ve been open the entire night. The sprite hovers right above his face, contemplating waking him up, but he’s not exactly given a choice because the bedroom door swings open without any warning. 
“Hyuuuung!” Jisung whines loudly, causing Changbin to jerk awake in his bed. 
“Don’t you go spreading your false information!” Felix barks as he barges into the room beside his housemate. 
Changbin sits up and stares at them, eyes tired and face contorted in displeasure, “what?!” 
“Hyung, Felix pushed your dry coral off of the coffee table,” he tells him. The eldest’s eyes snap open and he’s scrambling out of his bed and pushing past the two younger males. 
“I didn’t push it off, it was an accident!” Felix groans, watching nervously as Changbin silently moves over to pick up the dried coral sitting on the ground. The impact managed to chip off the top of the oddly shaped rectangle, breaking the corner off while pieces of it scattered the carpet. Hyunjin watches from the ceiling, curious to see how the human would react, but Changbin’s quiet as he picks up the pieces. 
“Don’t worry about it,” he mutters as he stands, the coral pieces sitting in his palm. “I should’ve brought this into my room instead since I wanted to use this for a report.” Changbin turns around and gives his housemates a small smile to reassure them. Felix and Jisung shrink slightly, guilt washing over both of their faces. 
“I’m sorry, hyung, I didn’t mean to. I-I was just cleaning and it—” Felix reaches out to him as he walks back into his room but Changbin stops the younger man from coming in. 
“Lix, it’s fine,” he cuts him off. “It’s just coral. I can always, uhh, get more of it from the beach. It’s okay.” Changbin closes the door, leaving the other two standing outside of the room feeling lost. It’s rare for him to just numbly push it aside, which only makes Felix feel even worse because he has a feeling that someone gave him the coral. In his room, Changbin places the broken coral pieces onto his desk and stares at it. If he told (Y/n) that it’s broken, he wouldn’t want to actually tell her because he doesn’t want to make her feel bad, but Changbin doesn’t want to ask for another one. He scratches the back of his neck and sighs, “fuck.” It’s his mistake for leaving the coral in the living room when he had made a mental note to take care of it, but what could Changbin do now? 
“Is this a bad time?” Hyunjin finally speaks up. Changbin’s head perks up and he whips his head around to see the water sprite standing on his bed. 
“I knew you stalked me,” he gasps in mock surprise. Hyunjin laughs at that as he flies over to the desk to look at the coral. “I didn’t mean to leave it out in the open,” Changbin sighs. 
“You could always ask her for more, I don’t think she minds,” he claims. 
“I don’t want to make her feel bad if I tell her that this one broke,” Changbin mumbles, his fingers poking at the pieces. 
“Changbin,” Hyunjin turns around to look at the human, his hands moving to his hips, “(Y/n) won’t mind. She likes when you ask for ocean stuff.” 
“Does she?” 
He nods and flies up in front of Changbin’s face, “she really likes talking to you about the ocean.” Hyunjin only lowers back onto the desk once Changbin looks more reassured. “Speaking of (Y/n), she wants to meet your friends.” 
“What?” his eyes widened. 
“She said that she wants to meet Felix and Jisung,” Hyunjin continues, “she wants to know more about you and your life because she likes you.” 
"She—huh?" Changbin shakes his head a bit before staring at Hyunjin. 
"Do you want to introduce your friends to your mermaid girlfriend or not?" His arms cross over his chest. 
“(Y/n)’s not my girlfriend,” he’s blushing furiously as he denies it but Hyunjin raises an eyebrow. 
“Mhm, and that night where you let her fall asleep on your shoulder even though her skin was wet and your shoulder was freezing after that says otherwise,” he teases. 
“She’s not my girlfri—” Changbin’s cut off when his bedroom door swings open and Felix and Jisung are staring at him, eyes flicking to look at Hyunjin who’s looking like a deer caught in headlights. 
“I-Is that a sprite?” Jisung asks. Changbin nods. 
“Okay, cool, we were just wondering who you were talking to,” Felix laughs awkwardly as he pulls on Jisung’s collar and pulls him away from the door. 
“No, stay,” Hyunjin beckons them over. The two of humans exchange a look with Changbin before stepping into the room. “How good are you at keeping a secret?”
“Pretty good,” Felix shrugs. 
“Why?” Jisung tilts his head. 
Hyunjin turns to Changbin, “do you trust them enough to meet her?” 
“Well, if (Y/n) wants to meet them, then I can bring them to the beach,” he nods. 
“Who’s (Y/n)?” Jisung asks. 
“Are you a hundred percent sure we can trust them?” The water sprite ignores Jisung’s question, more concerned about just how much Changbin would trust them to meet a mermaid. 
“Felix has kept a secret I told him four years ago and Jisung forgets them a few seconds after—I think they’ll be fine,” he reassures Hyunjin. The sprite turns back to the obviously confused humans before relaxing his shoulders. 
“Bring them with you when you come by later. I think she'd be pretty happy if she could meet your friends.” He moves to the window, flicking his wrist upwards and the window frame lifting on its own before Hyunjin flies out. The three humans stare at the open window, completely ignoring the cold wind that’s blowing into Changbin’s bedroom because Jisung and Felix are too busy trying to figure out what the hell a water sprite was doing in their hyung’s bedroom. 
“So…” Jisung trails off as he shifts his weight from one foot to another. “Care to explain who your friend is?” 
“Which one?” Changbin turns to look at the two. 
“The sprite and whoever (Y/n) is,” he clarifies. 
“I met the water sprite through (Y/n),” he says simply, “I’ll bring you to see (Y/n) later, but you have to promise that you won’t tell anyone about her.” 
“I’m not gonna question why you’re so secretive about your obviously secret girlfriend, but okay,” Felix chuckles. “I knew that you had someone on your mind.” 
“She’s not my girlfriend,” Changbin grumbles, “we’re just friends.”
“Then why did the water sprite say she was your girlfriend?” Jisung teases. 
“Because…” he trails off as he tries to find an excuse. There’s really nothing for him to say that could deny that he may or may not be in an unofficial relationship with the mermaid other than the fact that Changbin and (Y/n) have only known each other for less than three months and may or may not be into each other. “Look, if I bring you to the beach to meet her, she’ll explain it too, okay? Just bare with me until then.” 
“Fine.” 
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“You’re fucking joking,” Jisung breathes in awe. Both him and Felix are staring at the mermaid with eyes that are close to falling out of their skull and jaws all the way to the ground. 
“T-This isn’t possible,” Felix mutters, eyes trained on (Y/n)’s turquoise tail. She sits on the edge of the cave, hiding behind Changbin’s legs as his friends gawk at her. Hyunjin watches from Changbin’s shoulders, arms crossed over his chest and a smirk on his face at the way the humans are in so much disbelief that Felix smacks his own head to make sure he’s not dreaming. “She’s a mermaid,” he looks up at Changbin. 
“You’re girlfriend’s a mermaid,” Jisung states. 
Changbin blushes and shakes his head, “we’re not dating.” (Y/n) stays behind his legs, hiding her blush by sliding back into the water and only peeking her eyes out of the water. “Now you’ve gone and made her scared!”
“No!” she squeaks, shooting up to tug on his jeans, “they didn’t scare me.” Changbin turns around, eyes softening when he sees the way (Y/n)’s reassures him with her eyes. 
“Oh, we didn’t scare her. She’s blushing,” Jisung teases. Even in the dark of night, he’s still able to see the red tinge on her cheeks which only deepen at his statement. (Y/n) lets go of Changbin’s pants and lowers into the water. 
“Are you okay?” he questions softly. She looks up, nodding silently when her gaze meets his. “Are you sure they’re not scaring you?” (Y/n) shakes her head. Changbin relaxes a bit as he turns back to face his friends, “this is (Y/n). I met her a few months ago because she saved me.” 
“Saved you how?” Felix’s eyes narrow. 
“Your friend over here fell into the water while trying to get a closer look at (Y/n),” Hyunjin giggles as he jumps off of Changbin’s shoulder and floats towards Jisung’s shoulder. “(Y/n) had to drag him towards a cave because she didn’t want him to freeze and drown.” Jisung and Felix feel a click in their heads at the words ‘drown’ and ‘freeze’, both of them slowly turning to look at their friend.
“You almost drowned?!” Jisung exclaims. 
“Why didn’t you mention this?!” Felix yells. 
“Because I would’ve had to explain how my clothes dried and how I even survived,” Changbin shrugs. Felix scoffs, eyes rolling as he tries to process the new information. 
“So, you just casually almost die and decide not to tell us?!” Jisung’s jaw drops. 
“I didn’t want to tell you about (Y/n) because she’s supposed to be extinct!” he throws his arms up into the air. (Y/n) watches from the water, stifling her laughter at how Jisung and Felix continue to fire at Changbin for not telling them of his death, Hyunjin making eye contact with her and chuckling as well. She reaches up and tugs on Changbin’s pants once more, making him turn around immediately at the feeling. “Yeah?” 
“I wanna say hi.” She blinks innocently a few times while Jisung and Felix watch, their arms crossing over their chests and their eyebrows raising. 
“Oh, sure,” Changbin crouches down and holds onto her hand to help her sit on the edge of the stone where she shyly waves towards the two humans. 
“Wow,” Jisung chuckles. “You’re whipped.” Felix snickers from beside him, pursing his lips together to make it less obvious that he’s laughing as well. 
“No I’m not,” he snorts. (Y/n) looks up at him and pulls on his hand, silently asking him to sit down with her, which Changbin immediately obliges without even questioning it. 
“Sure,” Felix laughs. 
“Changbin talks about you guys a lot,” (Y/n) claims.
“I hope you mean in a good light.” 
“Very,” she chuckles, “the only reason I wanted to meet you guys myself is because you sound really important from what Changbin has told me.”
“Important?” Jisung smirks. 
“I meant that you sound like really good friends.” (Y/n)’s words make Changbin loosen up slightly. She’s trying not to embarrass him in front of his friends, so she chooses her words carefully to at least try to lessen the teasing he might receive once they head home. “I think he loves you guys more than he’d admit,” she whispers, giggling when she earns a glare from Changbin. Jisung and Felix turn to him, choosing not to tease him because they’re actually warmed by (Y/n). 
“We love you too, hyung,” Felix smiles, Jisung nodding ecstatically beside him. “I’m going to assume that (Y/n) is the event where a species pretended to go extinct and still haven’t been re-discovered.”
“Precisely,” she nods. 
“What are the chances that a stranger could find her?” Jisung questions. 
“That’s something that I’d rather not find out,” Hyunjin sighs, moving from Jisung’s shoulder to (Y/n) instead. “The only reason why I allowed Changbin to introduce you two to (Y/n) is because I trust him. So, I’m going to take a leap and trust you.” 
“We won’t tell anyone about her,” Felix reassures him. “We’re just here because we wanna see who Changbin hyung’s girlfriend is.”  
“For the last time, (Y/n)’s not my girlfriend,” Changbin groans. “We’re just friends!” (Y/n)’s expression drops and the only person that happens to miss it is Changbin because he’s too busy glaring at his friends. Jisung clears his throat and gestures to the mermaid when his friend gives him a questioning look.  Changbin turns around and panic starts to fill him when he sees the way her mood’s dampened. “W-What’s wrong?” 
“Would it be so bad if we were dating?” she mutters out, a frown pulling on her lips. 
“O-Of course not!” he stammers, his eyes squeezing shut as he tries to explain it to her. “I just don’t want them thinking we’re dating if we’re not, you know? It might make you feel awkward or uncomfortable,” Changbin mutters as he rubs the back of his neck. 
“I don’t think it’s awkward,” (Y/n) admits, her cheeks tinged red. The human’s eyes widen as well, blush creeping over his entire face. 
“I—uhm.” Changbin struggles to actually word anything out while his best friends laugh at him and Hyunjin watches with a shit-eating grin on his face. He scooches closer to (Y/n) and moves his lips right to her ear, “let’s talk about this later, yeah?” She moves away from his face and nods. When (Y/n) turns back to Changbin’s friends, they’ve made themselves comfortable on the rocks, ready to learn more about the mermaid. 
The night is spent with casual talking, the five of them getting to know each other more. Changbin learns more about Hyunjin that single night than he has in the past few months that he’s known the water sprite. Jisung also seems to make it a mission to embarrass Changbin as much as he can in front of (Y/n) to the point where Changbin’s almost holding him by the collar and hanging him over the ocean. Felix on the other hand, watches in amusement. He doesn’t say that much other than piping in every once in a while because he’s genuinely interested in learning more about the magical creatures. 
“I’ll catch up with you guys in a bit,” Changbin tells the two humans when it’s already 3 a.m.. 
“We’ll be waiting at the beach,” Jisung nods, waving at Hyunjin and (Y/n) before he walks off with Felix. Hyunjin looks at Changbin before turning to (Y/n)—who’s moved into the water because her skin was drying out—and realising that they want time alone. 
“I’ll give you guys some space,” he mutters before diving into the water, leaving the two alone. Once alone, (Y/n) pulls herself up to sit on the rocks, tail dangling in the water as she looks out at the horizon with Changbin sitting cross-legged beside her. 
“What do you think of my friends?” he questions. 
(Y/n) hums, a smile tugging on her lips as she turns away from the ocean to Changbin, “I like them. They seem like a lot of fun.” 
“They really are,“ he chuckles. Silence falls between them and whatever elephant was already in the room seems to have doubled in size because now, the two of them are painfully aware of their relationship. “(Y/n),” Changbin breaks the silence, turning to face her. 
“Yeah?” She's already looking at him and it makes Changbin’s face heat up. The moonlight reflects off of her face, the blue and green scales of her face reflecting the light like diamonds that cover her skin. (Y/n)’s gorgeous. Changbin isn’t sure whether her beauty is amplified because of the sudden serenity of the night or whether he’s just never actually taken the time to admire her, but she’s entrancing. His eyes flick to her lips, soft and glossy before they flicker back up to her eyes where she’s watching every feature on his face to try and predict his next move. 
“C-Could I kiss you?” The words come out before Changbin’s able to stop himself and he mentally slaps himself because that is not at all what he wanted to say. (Y/n) nods anyway, letting him move closer until his warm lips gently press against her cold ones. The kiss is slow and gentle, both of them testing the waters before pulling away. When Changbin’s eyes open to meet (Y/n)’s his stomach erupts with butterflies. How lucky was he to encounter a mermaid when they had hidden away from humans, faking their extinction to keep themselves safe. He realises then that (Y/n)’s, “one in a million,” he subconsciously says out loud. As rushed as it sounds, Changbin's pretty sure he’s managed to fall in love with her in the short amount of time they’ve known each other. 
“Huh?” (Y/n)’s eyes flash with confusion. 
“You’re one in a million,” Changbin says, his hand moving up to gently cup the side of her face before he leans in once again.
132 notes · View notes
lovelyirony · 4 years ago
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hi hello i am feeling very angsty so: rhodeytony ft tony's worrying lack of interest in avoiding getting kidnapped and his bodyguard rhodes' increasing stress levels to save a boss that doesn't want to be saved (and, if the flutter in his heart should be anything to go by - should not be his boss anymore). bodyguard to lovers??
Rhodey is a good bodyguard. Hell, he’s the best. 
That was why Pepper Potts hired him, after all. He’s not easy to fool, can follow anyone with a dogged determination that nearly defies human nature. He’s had successful stories before with glowing reviews from multiple people from all different threatened backgrounds. 
(Including at least three world leaders and a pope.) 
Tony Stark is...new. Well, nearly new. He’s a businessman, which isn’t anything out of the ordinary for Rhodey to deal with. 
…except Tony’s highly eclectic, a billionaire, and purposely makes his behavior as erratic as possible. 
It’s fun. What can Rhodey say? He loves a challenge, and Tony is about as challenging as they come. 
-
When he first starts, Tony tries every trick in the book. Rhodey still sticks to him, although he does leave some distance. Tony tries to make him uncomfortable by bringing just about everyone who looks home, and all Rhodey says is, “you gonna feed them cereal when they wake up? Because that’s all you have in your pantry right now, and you don’t pay me to do the shopping.” 
Tony scowls at that, and then changes his strategy. 
-
It’s an odd strategy. 
Tony decides he will just make Rhodey his friend, starting with the nickname of “Rhodey.” 
“That’s stupid,” Rhodey says, because he can already tell it will stick. 
“Not my problem, just my solution,” Tony grins. “Now come on, we’re getting burgers.” 
They’re at a sit-down restaurant. One of Tony’s favorites, actually. Rhodey is not sure why he’s sitting down across from the man with the most influence in the world, but he is. 
“So, what’s new with you? Who are you?” Tony asks. “Pepper sent me your file. You’re from Philly, right?” 
“Oh my god, you sound weird when you say it like that,” Rhodey says, deciding against formality as he basically tells Tony Stark that he sounds weird and shouldn’t say “Philly.” 
“Oh what, is that not what the locals call it?” 
“I’m going to take you there and they’re going to beat you up.” 
“Not the worst Sunday night I’ve ever had,” Tony mentions. “Hey, look at the menu. I don’t want you to flounder when the waitress shows up and you know fuck-all about what they have to offer.” 
“Okay asshole, any recommendations?” 
“The banana milkshake and bacon-burger.” 
Rhodey looks at the menu. 
He does end up with the bacon-burger, but chooses strawberry for his flavor of milkshake. 
“You traitor.” 
“Oh am I? Well then let me tell Pepper that you stole the last good pen she had then-” 
Tony flings a fry at him, and Rhodey laughs. 
Here’s a concerning thing: Tony has a very “c’est la vie” approach about kidnapping. 
Like he genuinely doesn’t really give a shit if he knows what’s going on, or even if he doesn’t. 
Rhodey was eagle-eyed and chased a van three fucking blocks and caught up to the driver, wherein he punched his lights out and got Tony out. His hands were bound in zip-ties and his suit was rumpled, but Tony just blinked at him. 
“You think you broke a racing record with that?” 
“Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did they take anything?” 
Rhodey’s all over Tony, checking for any injuries, any stolen wallets or watches, and thank god everything is there. (Not that Tony would really care if anything was stolen, save for his sunglasses. He spends far too much on those, in Rhodey’s opinion.) 
“Okay geez,” Tony says, batting Rhodey’s hands away. “I’m fine. These people were amateurs. Shit, I’m running late for my consultation meeting, aren’t I?” 
“You just got kidnapped,” Rhodey says, tone rife with disbelief. “You just got taken and your concern is with the consultation meeting?” 
“Well I figured that you were going to come by or I’d be gone a lot longer, but now that I’m not? Yeah. Yeah, I am concerned with the consultation meeting. It’s a tech start-up company, only not that shitty Silicon-nice-guy start-up. It’s a more inclusive thing. I don’t know, I read their little ‘about’ section on their website. Which needs work. But that’s besides the point.” 
Rhodey just follows, dumb in disbelief. 
The few rare times that previous clients have been kidnapped or even attempted, they’ve needed a day to recuperate at minimum. They were shaken up, and usually beefed up the security for the rest of time after it. They also scheduled therapy appointments. 
Tony treated this like it was a traffic jam and he was only running five minutes behind. 
The second time it happens when Rhodey’s there, it lasts a little longer. 
Rhodey has to admit, he maybe did some...under-the-radar looks. The FBI wasn’t moving fast enough, and the legal channels weren’t up to snuff. And besides, Tony did say that he could use Jarvis if he really wanted to. 
(Turns out they both went to MIT at the same time, and Tony had been that obnoxiously short guy in his econ class that rarely showed up, but when he did he showed up in a suspiciously nice outfit.) 
It was a weekend. Rhodey had gone away for two seconds to get a drink for Tony and then he was gone. 
It was...bad. 
The problem is this: 
Tony definitely doesn’t need to be kidnapped as often as he is. He has so many inventions that can prevent that, he’s sold quite a few of them to the military. 
But for some fucking reason, he doesn’t want to be saved. No, he’s content just going along with what’s happening, even though everyone else around him wants him back. Needs him back. 
He finds him bruised and tied up to a shitty folding chair. 
“Hey darling,” Tony says, lips a bloody red. “Can you believe this chair? I would’ve thought they would at least have gotten something a tad nicer. I am their best-dressed guest, after all.” 
Rhodey looks over the torn shirt and the pants that have all but been shredded. His shoes are battered and stained beyond repair. 
“Don’t,” Rhodey says. He sounds tired. He is tired. “Don’t do this.” 
“Don’t do what, get kidnapped? I hardly try,” Tony snaps. “Or do I just have a sign on my back that you didn’t know was there?” 
“You know I was in the Air Force,” Rhodey snaps back. “I got high enough clearance that I was one of the guys who got to see what brand new toy you sent our way. I know you could use any of those, shit, you probably tested it out, so you would know.” 
“And your point?” Tony asks. “What, you’re saying I should know better? Saying you know better than me?” 
“You know what? Yeah, yeah I am saying that,” Rhodey yells as he’s untying him. “I am fucking saying that I know more than you because you couldn’t give less of a shit if you tried about your own well-being! You were kidnapped and I’ve been running myself ragged trying to get you back, and you just don’t care!” 
Tony stares at him. Really stares at him. 
“Let’s go home.” 
Nothing else is said in the car ride home. Tony can’t even look at Rhodey. 
They go home, where Pepper greets Tony with a hug and makes him swear not to leave again, and Tony says “I promise,” only they both know that he’s lying. 
But they’re not calling him out on it yet. No, not tonight. 
Rhodey stays. Technically he doesn’t have to. Jarvis is the most advanced artificial intelligence system in the world. Hell, he’s the only one that’s even in his league, but Rhodey just...feels better staying. 
And Tony’s mansion is a gargantuan structure with about twenty different rooms to choose from, so Rhodey gets a nice view and tries to go to bed. 
He’s never gotten enough sleep. He knows he never would. That’s why the army loved him: he could be up at any hour and he’d be fine. That’s why his dad called him the bane of his existence in a loving manner: Rhodey would be up at four in the morning filling out the crossword before anyone else could. 
He’s up at four a.m. making breakfast. 
Tony’s pantry is still shit, but it looks like Pepper went shopping for him or had someone else do it, because he actually has eggs and juice and actual food instead of the odd pickle jar or way-too-old yogurt. 
“You’re...up,” Tony says. 
Rhodey turns around. 
“Sorry. I, um. Stayed.” 
“It’s fine,” Tony says awkwardly. “What are you making?” 
“Omelet.” 
“I always mess those up,” he says. “Either too much cheese or I forget I’m cooking it.” 
“You want one?” 
“You gonna make me one?” 
“Accidentally cracked one too many eggs, so yes. You want onions and spinach in yours?” 
“Sure,” Tony says. “What are you doing up?” 
“Always bad at sleeping,” Rhodey answers. “Can never really stay asleep for too long.” 
“Forget to take your melatonin gummies?” Tony answers, grinning. 
Rhodey can see a bruise on his collarbone. 
“You sleep okay?” 
“No, but I rarely ever do,” Tony says. “Especially after yesterday’s fiasco.” 
“You mean the whole weekend,” Rhodey says, putting the rest of the eggs into the pan. “Can’t imagine that was fun.” 
“Oh come on, it was a ball,” Tony answers sarcastically. “They let me play cops-and-robbers and I was given pizza. Clearly it was a fantastic time.” 
Rhodey stares at Tony. 
“You know in the contract that I had you sign it specifically states that you have to let me help you, right?” 
“It says you have to rescue me regardless of feelings or previous obligations,” Tony says. 
“Rescuing you doesn’t just mean I chase after vans and track you down in an abandoned warehouse, it means that I rescue you from those situations before they can happen. But I can only do that if you agree that you won’t get kidnapped,” he says. 
“And what, I want to?” Tony asks. “Do I say that?” 
“You don’t have to,” Rhodey says, flipping the omelet over. “You never think you’re worth rescuing it because you think you’re never going to be good enough and I think you think that you owe me for giving a shit.” 
Tony looks at him. 
“You’re really honest.” 
“I try to be.” 
“I love that about you.” 
Rhodey’s hand shakes slightly as he moves the omelet a bit in the pan. He hopes Tony doesn’t notice. 
“Well I would love it if you stopped being kidnapped.” 
“Aye aye, Colonel Rhodes,” Tony says, saluting. Rhodey rolls his eyes. 
“Oh my god, do not.” 
“What, am I not supposed to thank our armed services for making this country safe?” he mocks, standing up. “For going above and beyond the call of patriotism and helping keep Americans everywhere safe?” 
Rhodey threatens to eat his omelet when he breaks into singing the national anthem. 
There’s an...understanding. 
Tony starts taking up training with Happy and almost agrees to regular training with Rhodey until Rhodey wants him to get up at six and do some workouts, and he yells “No!” after one workout session. 
Rhodey pointedly pretends like he’s not staring at Tony’s chest when he lifts up his shirt to wipe away the sweat. 
“Come on Rhodey my darling, let’s do breakfast.” 
Tony dragging him to breakfasts, lunches, and dinners. It’s...nice. Rhodey ignores it when Tony waggles his eyebrows as he takes the check and calls him “darling, honey, baby,” and he lets him because it sounds nice. 
He doesn’t say anything to Tony. No, you can’t date your boss. It’s unprofessional as hell and Tony probably is just doing it because Rhodey’s in close proximity and they have a good banter going. 
The next time that Tony has an attempted kidnapping, Rhodey is there. 
He’s there, and he’s being taken away, dragged from Tony, and Tony for the first time looks terrified. 
Rhodey tries to struggle, tries to do anything, because Tony has to get away, and he...
He’s knocked unconscious. 
-
When he wakes up, his head hurts worse than it ever has, and for a moment he’s pissed at Tony because he forgets that he’s been kidnapped and there’s no control over the thermostat because the room is hot as all get out. 
And then he sees Tony across from him, and he’s never seen Tony angry. 
“I’m sorry,” Tony says, voice shaking. “I’ll get us out of here. I promise. I’m sorry.” 
“Not your fault we have assholes take us,” Rhodey says. “But god I would kill for some air conditioning.” 
Tony smiles a bit at that. 
Here’s a problem: you cannot give Tony Stark anything if you want him to not escape. Either that or he has to be unconscious because he’s a stubborn son of a bitch. 
And they used actual handcuffs to keep him there. God, what a joke. 
Tony learned how to break out of handcuffs when he was twenty and chained to a bedpost on accident. (Long story.) 
This is nothing. 
But the problem is that Rhodey’s here. His bodyguard who really shouldn’t be putting his life on the line for someone as shitty as Tony, but here they are, and he has to get him out. 
“Follow my lead,” Tony whispers. 
“Well of course I will, who else has as much experience being kidnapped as you?” Rhodey mutters. 
“Okay is now going to be the time where you sass me? You’re here too. I could leave you.” 
���You’re not gonna do that, Pepper would make you come back.” 
“No she wouldn’t.” 
“Yeah she would!” 
“Not after I tell her that you used the last of her salad dressing.” 
“Shit.” 
Tony snorts, looking at the room. They don’t have security cameras, which is just...questionable. Oh my god, he got kidnapped by amateurs. 
He’s kind of embarrassed. 
Rhodey gets free, and they’re both headed towards a door, and Rhodey picks up a stray part of a metal pole, and Tony cannot lie and say he’s not intrigued by that. 
Not saying he hopes Rhodey gets to use it. 
He’s just curious how he’ll utilize it. 
They get to just. Walk out. They fucking walk out. What kind of people did they get kidnapped from? It can’t be that easy, can it? 
It can’t be...
It is. 
Okay sure Tony is driving in a hotwired car and they’re being shot at, but all things considered that’s not the worst thing. And the truck is probably considered stolen anyways, and once Tony makes it to the highway, it’s not like they’ll be able to follow without making it onto national news, not that they haven’t already. 
Pepper’s very effective at getting things to trend on national news when she wants to. 
Rhodey is sitting on a beach chair. He shouldn’t be, and he also shouldn’t be drinking a mimosa because it’s four p.m. and definitely the morning, but he figures since he got kidnapped he’s allowed at least one mimosa. 
“So. Your first kidnapping?” Tony asks. “All things considered, yours went well. I think next time we should go to Wendy’s or something, I was starving-” 
“I’m just. I’m glad we’re okay,” Rhodey says. “But yeah. Maybe next time. If there is a next time. I’m going to I think make you hold hands with me so that you don’t get napped by terrible, shitty people.” 
“You could’ve just asked to hold my hand, we didn’t need to be kidnapped together,” Tony says. 
“Hm, is that a breach of contract?” Rhodey teases. 
“Only if Pepper decides to enforce it, and she won’t because you’re the first bodyguard to have an actual success story with me,” Tony says. “So. I’m thinking maybe we skip the kidnapping next time and go straight for dinner.” 
“Oh thank god, I thought you were gonna say a fast food restaurant.” 
“I still could, you don’t know,” Tony grins, winking. “What if our first date is to Burger King? What are you gonna do?” 
“Be mad that I still like you,” Rhodey grumbles. 
Tony cackles, dropping a kiss onto his hand. 
“Do you think I should get another bodyguard or will dragging you away during a party be too awkward for them?” 
“...I’ll think about it.” 
(They don’t get a new bodyguard. 
No matter how much the other security complains that Rhodey’s the only one who knows where Tony is at all times, and they can’t exactly ask them if they’re busy doing...things. 
Rhodey finds it hilarious.) 
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lukestauntauns · 3 years ago
Text
Telephone (pt.1)
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  Warnings: Lots of angst, arguing, yelling, drinking, both reader and Taehyung being assholes to each other, mentions of jealousy, blatant ignoring, intoxicated reader, swearing, mentions of “betrayal” 
Pairings: college au! Taehyung x Reader 
Word count: 2.1K
Listen to: Telephone by Lady Gaga ft. Beyonce https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pNcvmwxoK2g
a/n : This is my first time ever writing a fic! I have been wanting to for awhile and this idea came to me while I was doing dishes and listening to this song.  I thought it was time to put my thoughts into writing. ( I think I am going to make this into a series) I hope you all enjoy it! 
You and Taehyung had been friends for as long as you could remember. You grew up as neighbors when you were kids and were forced to meet by the doings of your parents. Since then, you two have always been with each other, until you got to college. You two had been arguing constantly arguing over nothing. You had so desperately wanted back the relationship that you had with him, and not the overprotective needy boy he was being as of now.
“Why do you constantly keep bugging me?” you retort. “You still treat me as if I’m a child and can’t handle myself.” 
“You are childish,” Taehyung says bluntly. “All you do is go out and party and completely act like I don’t exist.” 
“I’m in college, Tae. Do you expect me to stay in the dorm all the fucking time?! I’m only here once and it took me fucking forever to get in my sorority and you know how much I wanted to be in it. Why do you keep acting like you have all of this power over me? It’s not like we are dating.” 
This hit him hard. He wanted you two to be together desperately, but he didn’t have a way of telling you. It was always the wrong time for him. You were never around because of your sorority and all of the events you hosted.
Little did he know that you wanted the same thing. He was just so needy that it was starting to irritate you. You are 21 years old and don't need to be babied anymore. 
“You know what,” you start, “I don’t want you to call me tonight, at all.” “I’m going to this party and don’t want to speak to you. I want to just have this one night to myself and my friends. This is our last one before semester exams, and I would greatly appreciate it if I could enjoy my evening.” 
You could see the resting anger on his face. He was not one to talk down upon. Instead he always had to be the bigger person. But this time was different. He seemed to have an angry look, but his eyes were large and doe-like wanting to say something else than what his face was demonstrating. 
“Fine.”
That’s it? Fine? 
These words stuck with you thinking that maybe he would actually listen for once and let you have a good time. 
An hour goes by and you decide that it’s time that you get ready and you pull out all of the stops. Tae always thought that you looked great in black as it complemented your skin well. 
Do I wanna be evil? you thought to yourself.
 “Yeah I think I do.”
You pull out this gorgeous short, black sequined cocktail dress. You haven’t worn this dress since your freshman year of college and decided that it was time to pull her out again. You knew that this would upset him and you were happy that it would. Was your initial intention to make him jealous? No. But were you very excited about the idea? Yes.
You finish off the look with heavy eyeliner and a bold red lip. Platforms to top it all off. Taehyung always had a thing for when you wore heels out, yet you could never decipher what it was. You were pretty good at reading people, but he was one of the harder ones. Of course you could understand his basic emotions, but when he was really thinking, you could never actually pinpoint what it was about. 
 “Where are you going?” Tae inquires.
“Out” you say. And with that, the door shuts.
Just left my dorm, ready to get some alcohol inside of me. 
You text your best friend Ally while you are walking to the car. The party is located at the other side of the university so you have quite a way to go. She was the one who insisted that we Ubered there considering you already knew that she was not going to be sober enough to drive us back. 
Tae has been on my ass for so long and we got into an argument. Told him I didn’t want him contacting me at all tonight. 
You knew that your best friend always thought that you would end up together one day, and she had even pushed for you two to start dating. You alway reassured her that nothing would come of it and that you had been friends for years now. 
You know it is going to happen at any point right Y/N? 
You weren’t even going to entertain the idea and just decided that you were going to talk to her once you got there.
You two both meet and make the drive to the party. Once you get there, all of what happened beforehand has started to melt away. You are greeted with copious amounts of alcohol and people looking like they were enjoying themselves.
“You want a drink?” your friend asks. 
“Is that even a question?” as you already have chugged one Whiteclaw and are onto your second one. 
You knew that you weren’t a lightweight and considering that the seltzers were practically soda, you knew that you weren’t getting shitfaced tonight. 
You and your best friend were having the time of your life. This was a much needed outing considering everything that has happened between you and Tae recently. The music was so loud your chest was pounding. The sight of people dancing and having fun was amazing until… 
*Incoming call from Taehyung*
“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” you sigh.
“Hello.” you say 
“It's late you should come home,” 
“Sorry I can’t hear you. I have no service,” you lied as you could hear him perfectly. You were just trying to avoid the fact that he was calling . 
The line cuts. 
You thought you just got out scott free. But even your friend knew that Taehyung was not that gullible. 
*Incoming call from Taehyung*
This call you decide to completely ignore his call because you are not going to let him hinder you from having a good time. But he keeps calling and calling. Your friend starts smirking like she knows what's going on. 
More time passes and so does the alcohol and you decide that it is time for you to check your phone. Right as you check your phone.. 
*Incoming call from Taehyung*
“ Will you stop calling me! All you have done is call and call me. I don’t want to think anymore. I don’t want to talk anymore. Do you understand me? I need you to stop worrying about me.” 
And with that, you ended the call. 
“Damn Y/N, you didn’t have to be so mean about it.” 
“Ally you don’t understand. I have 35 missed calls from him and 86 text messages. He’s having a fucking psychotic break right now. I am a grown ass woman and I can take care of myself. He fucking told me that I was being childish today because I went out to our parties. I am so sick of him. He’s sitting at home calling me like a collector and I’m over it.” 
You continue to drink and have yourself a great time. You and Ally are dancing along with everyone else and really living it up one more time before you are crammed with studying and tests. She mentions the idea of you guys dancing with others. You are a little apprehensive about this. It’s not like you were dating Taehyung or anything, but wouldn’t that be wrong? It’s not like anyone was to record you or anything. Or so you thought. 
“Come on loser, it’ll be fun,” All says. 
*Incoming call from Taehyung*
“I’m going to say this once and only once. It’s not that I don’t like you, I’m just at a party and I’m getting really tired of my phone ringing. Do yourself a favor and stop calling me, please.” 
You can’t believe you said that. I mean yes you did like Taehyung, but you were wondering if he had taken it the wrong way. You wanted him to like you as well, but with the way that he has been acting lately, it doesn’t seem very plausible. If you really liked someone why would you constantly pester them and bombard them all the time. 
Another phone call ended and another round of drinks started. You said fuck it and decided to start dancing with others.  There’s no way that you should care about what Taehyung thinks. He’s not your father. You are allowed to do whatever you want. As you’re scouting who to dance on you pick a target that will for sure make him mad in the long run. His best friend, Jimin. Was this a little devious of you, yes, but did you care, absolutely not. You had had too much alcohol to start weighing in factors of the situation. 
Since the alcohol has already started to cloud your mind it also starts to take effect on your body and you start to slump when you walk. The whole not getting shitfaced thing didn’t exactly go to plan. One thing happened after another and there were just more shots and Whiteclaws to be drunk and you volunteered to do so. 
“We s..should make our way home,” your very drunk friend burps out. 
“God you are a mess,” you laugh “You do know that we have class in the morning? Your hangover is going to suck and you’re probably going to end up falling asleep in class.” 
You always had a knack for teasing her and she did the same. You didn’t have many girlfriends in college as a lot of them thought that your humor was offensive. Ally was the only person who had the same humor and more trauma that could be joked about. 
“Yeah, yeah I know. Thanks for coming out Y/N. I had a lot of fun and now I’m about to crash. Have fun with your boyfriend,” Ally yells. 
You proceed to flip her off and prepare for the tredge forward back to your dorm just hoping that Taehyung was asleep and you could just go to bed without anything happening. You have already taken off your platforms so that you prevent yourself from stomping in. You reach for the door and to your surprise it’s unlocked. That had set off a red flag because Tae would never leave the door unlocked. You walk inside only to find Tae on the couch waiting for you. 
Damnit 
“Why were you out for so long? Why do you smell like alcohol? How come your shoes are off?”
Taehyung would just not stop the questions before you could even get a breath out. You had barely been home five minutes and he was just demanding answers for his questions.
 “You know what Tae,” you say calmly, “I don’t really feel like playing your games and answering your questions. Yes, I had some drinks and my head hurts and I would like to go lay my head down if that’s okay with you considering I need to ask for your permission before I do fucking anything.” 
You could tell that that hit him hard. He knew that he was being extra needy lately, but with no explanation. This isn’t like him. But he wanted your attention so badly, but the attention that he ended up getting from you was always negative. This was the polar opposite of what he wanted. He was pushing you away rather than pulling you towards him. He thought that by asking questions and showing he cared, it would make him look like he was really looking out for you. Instead it backfired. 
“My head is going to explode,” you say aloud. 
You knew it wasn’t a good idea to just keep drinking. But with the constant nagging from Taehyung, you needed to take your mind off of the argument and your closest coping mechanism  was alcohol. You didn’t think it would all hit you at once. 
You proceed to strip from your party clothes and make your way into a pair of sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt.  You try your best to hobble to the bathroom to take off your makeup. Once that’s done, you make your way back to your bed, take ibuprofen, and head to bed, thinking about Taehyung. 
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anonniemousefics · 4 years ago
Note
Hello! I absolutely adore your writing, especially your writings of kanej! Anyway, I would love to see you write something about jealousy from either kaz or inej, I just think it would be interesting to see your take on it! Obviously you don’t have to, I love your work! You’re a great writer!
❤️ Thank you so much!! This was so sweet to receive, and I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to get this to you! So, hopefully you’re cool with this, but I decided to apply this idea in a modern AU because I have another request I’m also working on for a modern AU and this felt like an opportunity for some more practice. 😊 (And it just made it more fun for me -- idk, my brain just needed to do something new with these characters to make this work.) 
Samples - Modern AU
Fandom: Six of Crows | Kaz + Inej (ft. all the other Crows)
Word Count: 3,545
Rating: Teen And Up (Language)
“Who did this?”
All of Kaz’s friends were doubling over in laughter around the round hand-me-down table in Kaz and Jesper’s apartment. There were black and white Cards Against Humanity prompts spread across its surface – the most offensive combination of which had Inej, well, and everyone else, in fits.
What made my first kiss so awkward? had been the prompt Inej had drawn.
To which Kaz had submitted the following, randomly-selected card for her consideration – Announcing that I am about to cum. And then kept his poker face locked in place.
“Who did this?” Inej was demanding again, clutching her stomach.
Kaz wasn’t sure why he was hesitating -- something strange was happening while all of this was playing out. Nina had one hand on Inej’s arm while she was fairly screeching with laughter. Inej was slumping against Jesper, like the laugh was shaking her boneless. In fact, everywhere he looked, he was noticing how they were each exchanging these casual, unconscious touches in the midst of their mirth – Matthias turning his face against Nina’s shoulder, Wylan slapping Jesper’s shoulder.
No one was touching Kaz, though – which, that was good, though, right? That was because they were his friends, and they were thoughtful, and they knew all about The Very Sad Thing that had made him the way that he was.
And yet --
Kaz couldn’t find it in himself to laugh. He should be laughing, though, he realized. A normal person would be laughing, given the infectious nature of laughter. And also it was genuinely a really funny card – that’s why he’d played it. But all he could do was force a smile, and that was it.
He suddenly felt like an alien among them.
“Was it you?!” Inej was exclaiming, waving the card at him. Kaz designed what he hoped was a coy smirk for her.
“Are you saying that’s your favorite?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow.
“It was you.” Inej looked appalled, which only made everyone around the table hoot louder. Kaz was still smirking as she threw his winning card back at him with a mischievous, red-faced grin on her face.
“Oh, my God, Brekker.” Nina was wiping the tears off her apple-red cheeks.
“Why does that make it so much worse?” Matthias wondered, since he evidently could never not take a jab at Kaz. He scrubbed his eyes like he needed to wash them out.
And still not a single laugh out of Kaz’s body – this was disturbing. How long had he been this way? And why did he care so much all of a sudden?
“Guys, I’m pretty sure he won,” Wylan was saying, pointing at Kaz’s stack of wins. Had he? Everyone turned to count their cards.
Jesus Christ, he hadn’t even been paying attention to winning? But Kaz loved winning. It was the only reason he tolerated his roommate hosting these raucous game nights – because it meant Kaz could win things. And usually a lot of things. It was especially choice winning things off of Matthias Helvar, Nina’s latest lughead boyfriend she’d met at the gym, who now had to be invited to everything even though he sucked. He was always cuddling close to Nina, putting his arm around her, whispering gross things in her ear that made her giggle insufferably. It was so fucking uncomfortable.
Kaz never acted that way around Inej, and they’d been together for years. Sort of. Not always officially. It really had only been officially lately, but Kaz had always told himself he wasn’t one to need to put labels on things. Inej knewhow he felt – he knew this. (Did he, though?) He definitely knew this. (No, he didn’t.) There was no need to be like Matthias fucking Helvar and canoodle her in front of everyone on game night.
Oh, God. Kaz was suddenly having a realization, right there in the middle of counting his cards.
Oh, God.
He was jealous of Matthias Helvar.
Oh, this sucked.
This really fucking sucked. Kaz thought no one in their right mind should ever be jealous of that big dumb fuck, with his protein shakes and his weirdly popular fitspo Instagram page. The guy looked like he ate nothing but wild-caught salmon and organic broccoli. He wasn’t funny, and he’d say weirdly spiritual shit at socially unacceptable times. He probably spent his weekends doing annoying, on-brand fuckery like being one with nature and brewing his own kombucha, that asshole.
And this was the guy who felt comfortable enough to kiss a girl’s ear in a total stranger’s apartment. (Well, not a total stranger, Kaz would relinquish that – Nina had been dating Matthias for three months.) Matthias Helvar was doing all that nothing with his life, and he wasn’t the least bit self-conscious.
Ugh. Kaz hated that guy. Worse! Kaz wanted to be that guy. Minus the kombucha and the religious stuff. And the gym membership. And probably the protein shakes.
Ok, fine, Kaz was only interested in the PDA. This was so fucking awful.
“What number were we playing to?” he heard himself ask. He wasn’t even paying attention to card counting. He was going to have to start again.
“Can’t count that high, Brekker?” Matthias asked, smirking, and there was always something Kaz took as halfway serious in the way he tried to joke.
“Die in a fire, Helvar,” he said, with a smile that was as good as a middle finger.
“And on that note!” Nina sung out, standing with a hand on Matthias’ shoulder. “It’s almost midnight. I have an eight a.m. class. We gotta call it a night.”
“Matthias drove us,” Inej explained to Kaz’s questioning look at the word “We.”
Inej and Nina were roommates, too, like Kaz and Jesper, but the two girls lived on campus in the dorms at Ketterdam University, where all but Matthias attended. (Fucking Matthias, who was a personal trainer and got money from wellness companies to tout their shit on his Instagram. Ugh.) Wylan, Jesper’s boyfriend, was also living in the dorms this year, after spending his freshmen year commuting from his dad’s enormous house. Wylan had been the one with the car before Kaz had finally scraped together the money for one, but his dad had cut him off over the summer. Kaz didn’t know much about that beyond what little Jesper had told him, which, in summary, was: goodbye, car; hello, dorm life.
“You should have said something – I could have picked you all up,” Kaz said, mostly to Inej, as the others were standing from the table.
Nina reached a tentative hand out to gently touch his shoulder, well-protected by the fabric of his black v-neck.
“Kaz,” she said, gingerly, “we love you, but Matthias has functioning air conditioning.”
Kaz slid his glance toward Inej, who gave a little confirming nod, pressing back her amused smile.
“My thighs don’t stick to the seats in his car,” she explained, softly, which may as well have been a knife to the gut. He loved driving her around in his car. And, to top it off, she was in a pair of really adorable denim cut offs, her legs deeply tan from the summer sun, and he hadn’t even had the nerve to try to touch her exposed knee all night. (Meanwhile, Hands-On Helvar over here had been sitting with his palm all over Nina’s plentiful thighs all night. God, he was so gross. Couldn’t Kaz be just a little bit gross?)
“Are you okay?” Inej was asking. She was stepping a little closer to him away from where everyone else was putting on shoes, preparing to leave. She had her arms wrapped around herself and her loose, purple crop-top, and her long, dark braid was pulled over her shoulder – just mercilessly cute all over. And he hadn’t touched her all night.
“I’m fine,” he replied, but he kept his hands in his jeans pockets. Inej’s dark brows knit together.
“You’d tell me if you weren’t?” she checked. Kaz huffed a laugh – how was he supposed to answer that? Realistically, he should lie.
“Probably not,” he admitted anyway, and gave a shrug. Inej opened her mouth to reply, but Nina called to her from the doorway of the apartment.
“Sorry! Eight a.m. class! She’s going to text you from the car anyway!” Nina was shouting.
“She’s not wrong,” Inej shrugged with a smile. And reached out to barely brush her hand against his spine, like the first attempt at a hug. But Kaz could only bunch up his shoulders, hands stuffed deeper into his pockets. Why was he like this?
There were a few more awkward goodbyes at the doorway, including Matthias’ one-more last-minute sales pitch on the recent CBD-infused green powder drink he was hawking online. (“I’ll bring you some samples next week. They say it’s excellent for chronic pain.” Kaz had flipped him off when his back was turned.)
But then, once they’d all gone and the apartment was quiet, Kaz felt like he was rolling in regret.
“You doing ok?” Jesper asked him, gathering up the empty Solo cups for the trash. Jesper was a really good roommate. They’d been randomly assigned the same dorm room at the beginning of freshmen year, and it just worked. Jesper’s high energy plus Kaz’s insomnia were meant to be. They liked all the same things: strong coffee, getting paid dirty money to write other people’s papers for them, and occasionally clearing the mind by playing Call of Duty all night. They’d moved off campus the following year (a better move for the plagiarism operation), never even really having a conversation about whether or not to room with someone else. It was not even a question, and who else would Kaz even want to room with?
“You’ve seemed off all night,” Jesper was pointing out, and if Kaz had half a brain, he knew he should have been asking Jesper for advice about PDA long before it had reached envying-Matthias-Helvar-levels. Jesper and Wylan were normal in public. When they held hands or hugged or traded kisses, it wasn’t some fucking scene.
But how was he even supposed to bring this up to Jesper?
“Helvar’s such a dillweed,” was all he could find to complain. Jesper snorted.
“He is not that bad,” he said, dumping a stack of Solo cups into the trash.
“He’s the literal worst,” Kaz objected. “I can’t believe he unironically called himself an influencer.” And at that, Jesper pretended to barf into the trashcan.
“Yeah, no, you’re right – that was dumb,” he said. “I commend you for not cutting off your own ears when he did.”
“We are not buying his stupid fucking green juice,” Kaz said, pointing at Jesper to show he meant business.
“Good!” Jesper agreed. “Nina says it gives him the shits.”
And that brought Kaz some comfort. He found he could smirk about it while he loaded up the dishwasher. He was starting it up when his phone buzzed on the counter. He leaned over to read it.
Inej: You seemed sad tonight.
Inej’s contact photo in his phone was one he’d snapped when she wasn’t looking – she was leaning her head back with her eyes closed, taking in the sunshine. It had made her brown skin glimmer and dazzle.
Kaz stared at her text for probably too long. Long enough for Jesper to peer around the corner of the kitchen doorway at him.
“I’m going to bed – everything okay?” he said, and cocked his head. “Is it another last minute job?” Those kinds of jobs – the ones where a student was giving up the night before something massive was due – paid the most, but for good reason. They were absolutely fucking miserable to pull off.
“No,” Kaz shook his head. “Just Inej.”
It was never “just Inej” – and Jesper nodded like he knew that.
“Hey, Kaz,” he said, as he began to leave for his bedroom. Kaz looked up at him sidelong as he mouthed, barely audible: “Tell her what’s wrong.”
“Thank you, Dr. Phil.” Kaz rolled his eyes. And heaved a heavy sigh.
And started typing.
Kaz: I guess I was a little.
Whoa, pressing send on that was unpleasant. He wandered over to his preferred recliner in the living room and flopped back in it. Shoved the footrest up to elevate his bad leg. Ugh. Just ugh to everything and everyone. He looked down at his phone again.
And Inej had been quick to respond.
Inej: You can tell me these things, you know.
Inej: I know I won’t always have the right thing to say, but I want to be there for you.
Inej. Why are you being so perfect so far away?
Why are you wasting your time with a boyfriend who struggles to touch you?
Inej: Are you writing a novel?
He’d been writing and rewriting the same sentence twenty different times. She’d probably been looking at those ominous three bobbing dots for way too long.
Ugh. God. Fine. Kaz drew in a long deep breath, staring up at the ceiling like it could intervene and come to his aid. And then fucking wrote.
Kaz: I wish things were different
Kaz: I wish I wasn’t so fucked
Kaz: I wish I knew how to be a better boyfriend – how to make you blush and laugh and make that one smile that’s like you’re telling secrets with your eyes
He pushed the recliner back as far as it would go. Maybe it would tip and dump him on his head and he’d have to go to the hospital, and that would at least delay Inej inevitably breaking up with him for being this pathetic wet blanket. The phone buzzed again, and he almost didn’t want to look.
Inej: Um, where were you all night? You literally had me doing all those things all night
Huh. That wasn’t how he remembered it.
Kaz: On the opposite side of the table from you
Kaz: Watching basically everyone else be able to touch you but me
Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, oh, fuck. That sounded so petulant, and he’d already pressed send. That sounded so needy and disgusting. Who said that kind of shit? Not even Matthias Helvar said that kind of shit. He wanted to throw his phone across the room. No, out the window. No, out into the sea.
Now he was on the receiving end of the three bobbing dots of doom. Fuuuuck.
Kaz: Can we just forget I said that?
More dots. Then nothing.
Then dots.
Inej: I don’t know. You’re kind of cute when you’re jealous.
At that, Kaz raised his eyebrows.
Kaz: I am not jealous.
Inej: You’re a little jealous
Kaz: No, I feel insufficient.
(Oooof. That was like trying to throw an anvil. Painful.)
Inej: Oh
Kaz was watching the texts come in from beneath his arm now, holding the phone high over his head. Like watching the slasher scenes in a horror movie.
Inej: I mean
Inej: It seems like you’re just splitting hairs here
Inej: Since you must think others are sufficient in ways you are not, so you envy them
Kaz: Touche, Ghafa.
And he couldn’t help smiling to himself when Inej sent him a gif of a swashbuckling cartoon Robin Hood brandishing a sword. Then another text bubble appeared.
Inej: You are not insufficient to me, Kaz.
He really wanted to believe that.
Kaz: Even if I’m not hanging all over you and amassing a truly staggering number of Instagram followers with my six-pack abs?
Inej: O.M.G.
Inej: Kaz
Inej: Brekker
Oh, God, what had he done?
Inej: Are you *jealous* of Matthias?
Uggghh, he was going to be sick.
Kaz: Fuck no
Kaz: It was just a hypothetical
Kaz: It was an exaggeration
Kaz: I could do the same thing with any one of our friends
Kaz: And we all know the abs are photoshopped anyway
Inej: OMG
Kaz: What now
Inej: You called Matthias our friend
Kaz wanted to stab himself in the brain.
Inej: I’m gonna tell him
Kaz: Don’t you fucking dare
Inej: I already did
Kaz: What? How? How are you that fast?
Inej: Still in the car
Kaz: ????
There was no reason for that – the dorms were hardly a 10-minute drive. Now Kaz’s brain was assaulting him with a thousand reasons things his girlfriend could still be doing in a car (A nice car! With working air conditioning!) with a personal trainer/amateur Instagram model, and none of them were pleasant or welcome thoughts. The phone buzzed again.
Inej: I asked him to bring me back to you. :)
At that, Kaz straightened the recliner, rising to his feet as fast as his stiff leg would allow.
Kaz: You did? And he did? Why?
He was limping toward the front door.
Inej: Because he’s not terrible, Kaz. And because I guess I missed your car after all ;)
Jesper and Kaz’s apartment was the third floor of a wonky old Victorian home that had once been something grand and only recently had been split into three different abodes – which was definitely the worst decision the two of them had made as roommates. Kaz was leaning hard against the railing as he took to the steps when the front door of the building banged shut below. And then there on the landing below was Inej, wearing a sheepish smile in the yellow, buzzing fluorescence of the hall light. She was holding her phone in one hand, her tan leather purse slung across her slim body.
“I thought you looked like you could use a hug,” she said, as she pocketed her phone.
Kaz took the last two stairs carefully, coming to stand in front of her. She smelled like vanilla and coconut oil – like something he wanted to wake up to every morning.
“You came all the way back for a hug,” he wanted to clarify. His hands – he should do something with his hands. What would Matthias do with his hands?
No. What do I want to do with my hands?
So, he looped a couple fingers through her belt loops. Tugged her a little closer. And she smiled.
“Technically,” she said, “Matthias came all the way back so I could bring you some samples.” She patted her purse, which did look a little bulkier. “They were in his car the whole time.”
“Mmmm.” He pretended to look tantalized. “Hot car samples. Delicious.”
Inej was twisting her fingers in the t-shirt fabric at the crest of his hips. Tugging him a little closer, too. God, it was so good. She’d been so right. He had wanted a hug.
“I know that’s how I want my protein powder,” she teased. “Piping hot, right out of the oven.”
“Just how Ma used to make it,” Kaz added, with a good bit of feigned nostalgia. Inej blurted out a laugh, tipping forward until her forehead bumped his sternum.
At that first brush, it was like his hands knew what to do from there. They slipped around her waist while her hands slid around his. And she pressed her cheek against his chest while he held her close.
“You are not insufficient,” Inej said against him.
“I would really like to pretend that never happened,” he said with a sigh, resting his chin on top of her head.
“Too late,” she hummed, happily, and gave him a light squeeze. He smiled against her hair.
“You know I wouldn’t want you to be like Matthias, right?” she asked.
“You shouldn’t even want Matthias to be like Matthias,” Kaz grumbled.
“Hey,” and Inej pulled back to look up at him with her big, soft brown eyes. “I mean it. I just want you to be you. I don’t want all the handsy stuff. That’s what Nina likes. I just like you.”
Kaz carefully pushed back a few strands of her hair from her forehead.
“Not even a little handsy stuff?” he checked, which made Inej give her coy little smirk, his very favorite.
“Maybe a little handsy stuff,” she said.
If there were ever going to be a time to kiss her, it would be now. But when he thought it, Kaz felt his heart make an enormous leap into his throat, seizing in panic. If he touched her mouth with his, if he closed his eyes and felt her face so close to his, would he just end up floundering in The Very Sad Thing again? What if it happened while he was kissing her? Would every kiss after that be tainted? Could he risk it – could he ever?
So, he didn’t move to meet her lips. He let his hands fall to the small of her back, though, and kept her close for another moment. Like a sample of physical affection, and she seemed okay with that. He would will himself to believe it was not insufficient.
“Drive me home?” she asked after a moment, with a kind of sweet, eager anticipation that made Kaz believe in magic. He nodded, of course.
“I’ll go up and get my keys,” he said. “And you throw away those samples.”
Inej laughed, following him up.
“Deal,” she said.
-----------------------------------
Tagging: @annejulianneh111, @loveyatopluto, @ireallyshouldsleeprn, @whosanxiety, @raging-bisexual-alert,
119 notes · View notes
hyuckssunchip · 4 years ago
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Shakespeare Sucks Pt. 6
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Pairings: Jaemin x Reader, ft. Jaehyun, Renjun, Mark, Jeno, Taeyong
Words: 2K
Warnings: Language (there is almost always language in my writings), angst, mentions of violence/death
Synopsis:
Like Romeo and Juliet... less death though. You and Jaemin are blissfully unaware of the fate the lies ahead of your relationship. That is until Fate unveils the cruel plans that She has for you.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 
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You were pulled into the familiar tight grip of Jaemin’s grasp.
“Don’t leave my sight alright? No matter what.”
You nodded into his chest, indulging in the feeling of his warmth, an unsettling feeling rising in your stomach.
“When they get here, I want you to let me do the talking. Don’t do anything.” The blatant fear in his voice sent shivers down your spine, finally understanding the severity of the situation.
“And Renjun said he’d be here as soon as he can, he’s already planted a tracker on Yangyang. Nothing’s going to happen.” There was a quick change in the air, as he began to reassure you, or perhaps himself.
“Baby? It’s not too late to back out.” He pulled back, holding your face in his hands, taking a good look at you.
You shook your head, if this was all you could do, then that’s what you were going to do.
He sent a sad smile at your response. “All right.” He reached one arm around his back, pulling out something from the waist of his jeans.
You felt the heaviness of the cold metal that now rested in your outstretched palm. You forced yourself to swallow the lump in the back of your throat.
“I know you know how to use it.” You met his eyes, mouth still slightly open. “I want you to use it.”
You tried to protest, pushing the gun back in his direction.
“Y/N, I don’t feel safe if you don’t have one. Just in case.” He added the last bit quietly as an after thought.
It was easy to understand, and it made the most sense, but you felt your hand shake at the feeling again.
Jaemin’s phone buzzed and he excused himself, leaving you alone on the front porch, a weapon of death in your loose grip.
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“Renjun said they’re on the move, but he’s not far behind.” You nodded silently. “Taeyong’s on his way too, I think they’ve already caught your Dad up to speed.”
Jaemin shuffled to slip on his jacket, glancing at your still posture.
“Are you okay? It’s still not too late, we can leave right now.” Shaking your head in determination you finally looked at Jaemin, making eye contact.
“No, I’m going to do it.” He wrapped his arms around you, squeezing tightly.
“I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.” You struggled to hold in your emotions, a wave threatening to let loose. That’s where you two stood for the next five minutes, neither willing to let go for, and you hated to admit, could be the last time.
The calm silence was interrupted by the loud revving engine that skidded into the driveway. Jaemin stepped away from you, gripping just your hand.
The door slammed, forcing your eyes to follow the man, Yangyang.
“Would you look at that? A sitting duck.” He let out an ugly laugh. “I’m just gonna say right now, it’s a good thing you’re staying out of the family business, you’re not really good at it.”
Jaemin clenched his fist, the urge to shoot him right now was tempting him. But he knew that if he did that, they’d be as good as dead. He didn’t believe for a moment that Yangyang came here alone.
His eyes wandered, searching for any sign of movement or ambush.
“Hey pretty boy! Whatcha looking at?”
Jaemin rolled his eyes at the sound, a tick in his jaw visible to you.
“What do you want?” Despite how much you tried to sound strong, your voice obviously wavered as you raised your voice.
“Darling, what do you think I want? You.” He titled his head, smirking with a slight chuckle. “I want your Daddy to suffer, and I think you can help with that.”
You unintentionally took a step back, shielding yourself behind Jaemin.
“You think I’m actually gonna give her to you?” He snorted, glaring down at Yangyang.
“Yeah, I thought as much,” he rubbed the back of his neck, feigning sheepishness, “But that’s why I brought a couple of friends.”
Soon, one after another, cars began to fill up the drive, more than you expected.
“Your Daddy is a little tied up right now, how about I take you to him? A little family reunion we could say.” There was a sinister tone in his voice, causing you to gulp.
“Asshole.” Jaemin muttered under his breath before yelling back, “Is that all you brought?”
You stared at the profile of your bluffing boyfriend before turning back to the growing crowd behind Yangyang.
“No, of course there’s more on the way, you didn’t think we’d miss this opportunity did you? Why don’t we just go quietly now? This way we don’t have to kill your little boyfriend.”
Jaemin squeezed your hand when he heard the hitch in your breath. “He’s bluffing, he knows who I am.”
“Or, how about this, I’ll do you one better. I’ll let both you and your little boyfriend join us, I won’t kill him just yet. I’ve got something special planned.”
Suddenly the crowd of people dispersed, leaving a pathway for an older man to present himself.
He had intensely white hair, a deep scar on the left side of his face. The neatly trimmed beard showed an eery class, pairing with the three-piece suit. But what really caught your eye was the gold encased cane that he held, it looked like something that came straight out of a movie.
“Y/N I’ve heard many things about you.” The man sneered at you, refusing to let the facade drop. “I think we should have a little chat before I take you to your Dad, and your brother.”
Your eyes furrowed at the first mention of Renjun.
“Oh, you don’t know? I wasn’t born yesterday Y/N, your little plan was a bit too amateur.” He faked a gasp at the sight of your startled face. “Don’t worry they’re not dead... yet. It was much easier than I expected it to be.”
Jaemin squeezed your hand, shaking his head, an attempt to calm you. “He’s lying. They’re fine, Renjun texted me.”
“Did you really think that hacking into someone’s phone is something we’re not capable of?” He smirked again, pulling out a phone that you recognized as Renjun’s. “Now, come on, I think it’s time for one last reunion, before it’s too late.”
You let out a muffled sob as Jaemin fell limp next to you, there was nothing he could offer to you.
“Y/N.” He whispered, scared that he could incite any more pain.
“I- Jaemin. My-” The words stumbled out of your mouth, not really comprehendible.
“Y/N. We still have... my brother. He’s going to come.” Jaemin’s nerves were rising, fear enveloping him as well.
“So what’s it gonna be? I’m giving you the chance to see what’s left of your family for the last time.” He laughed, as if he was granting you a favor.
You gritted your teeth in anger, blinded by rage, you instinctively lifted your hand in his direction.
For only a moment you were able to see the brief look of fear on his face, as the gun backfired. Your arm ached from the sudden push, but the drop in your heart was more painful. You had managed to his his shoulder, but the second the bullet escaped the barrel, you came eye to eye with more than a dozen guns.
The last thing you remembered was the echo of gun shots.
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Breathing was difficult, the fall had broken a few ribs, but that was nothing in comparison to Jaemin.
It had been almost a week since you were brought to your Dad’s personal medics, refusing to part with Jaemin.
It had been almost a week since you last saw Jaemin’s eyes.
“You’re awake.” You turned stiffly to the intruder.
“Renjun.” He sent you a sad smile, and your eyes immediately fell on the cuts that still adorned his face.
“Still nothing?”
You shook your head, glancing back at your comatose boyfriend. “The doctors said he lost a lot of blood.” You sniffled, “It’s my fault.”
“Y/N.” He sat next to your bed, rubbing a hand on your shoulder. “He chose to sacrifice himself, he chose to go along with the plan. It’s not your fault, it’s what comes with the job.”
You let out a sob, “But if it weren’t for me-”
“Stop blaming yourself. Do you think that’s what Jaemin wants?” He told you, a harsh attempt at comforting you.
“But-”
“Taeyong doesn’t blame you. No one does.” You tensed at the sound of the name.
Taeyong had come in every day to visit, and you felt awful, sitting next to his brother, the cause of his current state.
You had desperately tried to ignore Taeyong whenever he came in, shrinking into your own bed, or pretending to be asleep. But it didn’t stop you from hearing the broken sobs and pleas.
“Renjun can I have a minute.” You looked up at the door, Jaehyun, standing with his hands in the pockets of a tailored suit.
“Yeah.” He squeezed your shoulder one last time, making his own exit.
Jaehyun let out a deep sigh, “Y/N.”
The waterworks let loose, and for the first time since you could remember, your Dad, reached out to embrace you. It was an odd feeling, not quite uncomfortable, but foreign.
“It’s not your fault.” You whimpered into the pocket of his jacket, staining the expensive fabric.
“He did a good thing. That’s a brave man, a man I can trust.” It was a sick way of approval from your Dad, but you took it nonetheless.
“The moment he took the bullet for you I really understood. I’m sorry it took me so long, and it took that extremity.” He paused, staring at the boy in the bed beside you. “He sacrificed a lot for a lot of people.”
You sat in silence for the next few minutes. Unable to control your voice yet, there was nothing you could offer.
“I have the best doctor’s on him, but... Y/N the chances are low. I know you hate to hear that, but I thought you should know.” With one last pat on your back he left you alone with your boyfriend and your thoughts.
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It’s been one month since you last saw Jaemin’s eyes.
One month since you last heard his laugh.
You were almost healed from the trauma, returning to online school, a precaution Jaehyun took, and a blessing your professors gave.
Not a day went by where you didn’t visit Jaemin, tell him about your day, the juicy gossip that you had that day. Jeno often joined you, something that you had grown to appreciate, as you had isolated yourself from almost everything.
You had let go of Mark, ignoring him until he gave up. His desperate texts went unanswered, and fell on deaf ears.
“Have you eaten yet?”Jeno asked, plopping into the seat next to you.
“No.”
“Let’s get some take-out.” You nodded, realizing how long it had been since you last ate.
Jeno surfed his phone, while you caressed Jaemin’s hand, something that you found solace in.
“Chinese? Or Mexican? Tacos are a little messy, you know what Chinese it is.” You giggled at Jeno’s conversation with himself and he stared at you startled. It was the first time he had heard you laugh since the accident.
He smiled to himself, glancing between Jaemin and yourself.
“I’m gonna wait downstairs, text me if you need anything.” He excused himself to leave you alone.
“Jaemin... I miss you.” You put on a sad smile. “We all do. My Dad said that he’ll try as long as he can, so... so take your time.”
You felt a wet drop fall on to your intertwined hands. “Take your time, okay? That way when you wake up you’ll be all better. Okay?”
You squeezed his hand, flinching when you felt him squeeze in response.
Your muscles tensed and you stared wide-eyed at the blank face, eyes still closed before you. Did you imagine it? But it felt so real.
Jaemin lifted on eyelid slowly, letting the rest of his features form a smile.
“Jaemin?” You were still in shock, but after a moment you cried out, tears falling out of happiness. “Jaemin.”
“God I missed you.”
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kookoosbunnynose · 5 years ago
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Pairing -> Officer!Reader x BadBoy!Jungkook (ft. Reader x Yoongi)
Genre -> Angst | Smut | Fluff
Rating -> Mature (18+)
Word Count -> 14.5k
Playlist -> Looks Red, Tastes Blue
Warnings -> Major Character Death | Grief | Poor Coping Mechanisms | Mentions of Alcohol Abuse | Mentions of Smoking (tobacco) | Unrequited Love | Emotional Constipation | Explicit Sexual Content | Unprotected Sex (stay safe losers) | Oral (m/f receiving) | Dom/Sub Themes | Dirty Talk | Praise Kink | Sir Kink | He Spit in Ur Mouth | Brief Sex with Jimin | Should I Even Bother Putting Cursing?
Summary -> You meet an old friend under uncomfortable circumstances, he brings with him memories you’ve tried to forget for years. Your past becomes your future before you can catch your breath. 
Excerpt -> “But where the paradox lies is, if you stop thinking, the smile you hold when you’re with him is the simplest thing you’ve ever done.”
—————
“We have a 10-51 at The Red Eye on Main.” Your radio suddenly booms in your otherwise quiet vehicle, snapping you out of your trance-like state caused by watching a mostly empty intersection run through light cycles for the better part of an hour.
“10-4, I’m 76.” You answered, pausing briefly to assess your location in relation to the hole-in-the-wall bar. “10-77, three minutes.” You finish, setting down your mic and flipping your lights on.
When you first started this job, getting a call for a drunk and disorderly would send your heart into overdrive, cause your breathing to shallow and your hands to shake. Mind filling with possibilities of having to contain a violent man twice your size. But after learning the patterns of the locals in town, and learning your own capabilities, you barely batted an eye. You’d probably just have to give the crotchety town drunk a ride back home and scold him for making you do this for the upteenth time. No biggie.
You sped down the empty street with ease, you could drive this town with your eyes closed since you were fourteen. The street lights around you against the night sky making everything appear untouched and serene, only amplifying your obnoxious siren.
Three minutes, nearly on the dot, when you pull up to Red Eye, and much to your surprise you see a young man sitting on the curb with his forearms resting lazily on his knees waiting for your arrival. The less than impressed security guard stops glaring at him in favor of filling you in on what happened.
“Hi y/n.” the guard greets, making the man pick his head up to confirm his suspicions.
“Well, fancy seeing you on that side of the law.” He says making you take in a stiff breath at the familiar voice, one you haven’t heard in years.
“I could say the same to you, Mr. Jeon.” you say with a steady breath, being very well versed in not appearing as shaken as you are. And you are. But you fight the way your throat wants to close because you’re wearing your badge, and you’re not here to dive nose first into your past. You’re here to take statements and do an assload of paperwork.
“The kid has been pretty cooperative,” the guard continues when you turn your attention back towards him. “didn’t put up a fight when I escorted him out. He’s had one too many drinks and threw a punch at a guy, who has decided not to press charges. But I got his information before he left to tend to his busted lip, if you need to contact him.” he informs, handing you a napkin with the bar’s logo and shaky ink etched into it.
“Thank you, I’ll take him off your hands.” you say glancing at the man in question, he’s still watching you with the kind of smirk only alcohol can provide. “I’ll take him to the station to sober up and get his story.” he nods, stepping back but staying close just in case.
“Are you gonna get in the car quietly or do I have to use these?” you question, holding your cuffs up with a hooked finger.
“Don’t make me any promises you won’t keep, sweetheart.” he winks lamely. You roll your eyes, and open the back door of your car.
“Get in Jeon, I won’t ask twice.”
“Yes, ma’am.” he says, raising his hands in defense and standing to climb in your backseat.
You shut the door behind him and make your way around the vehicle, giving the guard a wave goodbye. If he had been anyone else making a remark like that would’ve landed them a pair of cuffs, but in all your years of knowing him, Jungkook has never given you a reason to feel unsafe with him.
He was pretty quiet on your drive back to the station allowing your mind to wander to the time you two last spoke.
That day the air was heavy and unforgiving on your lungs, that no matter how hard you tried never felt full. You were both dressed in black, heads hung low in mourning. Before you departed you gave each other a long hug, whispering ‘I’m sorry’s and sniffling together. Giving each other as much comfort as you could muster even though neither one of you believed it would be okay yourselves. The hug was meant to be one of condolence but shortly after you would come to learn that, unbeknownst to either of you, it was a goodbye as well.
You don’t know if it was because you were pulling up to the station or if it was because he could sense your thoughts but he decided to break the silence.
“The asshole had it coming.” He spoke bluntly, as you opened his door and walked him inside.
“What did he do that warranted a busted lip?” you asked, slightly exasperated but mostly curious.
“He was making a girl at the bar uncomfortable, she asked him to stop and he didn’t. I stepped in, he swung, I dodged, I clocked him in the mouth, and he fell down.” He recounted simply, almost bored. He hasn’t changed, still ready to throw a punch for anyone in need. Just like-
Your stern look softens. “Why didn’t you tell security he threw the first punch?”
“Would he have believed me? I’m sure I haven’t been gone long enough for half the town to forget my reputation.” He says sitting in the chair next to your desk and crossing his tattooed arms across his chest. Those are new. Well, most of them.
“I suppose not, but at least I could have it on record that you tried.”
“I told you, didn’t I?” he raises his brows.
“Yes, you did.” you relent, grabbing a breathalyzer from your drawer. “Blow.”
He takes the device from you and does as instructed, presumably choosing to keep some sexual comment to himself.
“A .05?” You blink. “I thought he said you drank too much.”
“Probably assumed since I decked a guy in a bar.” He shrugs.
“I suppose, but how annoying.” you say slightly bothered by the fact that he had to tell you everything, and security didn’t even bother to ask people who started it. He chuckles at you.
You start typing away on your report, his story, his blood alcohol level, etc.
“Do you wanna press charges? He did try to assault you.” you question, pausing your fingers.
“No, but I think that woman should.” you smile.
“Okay, I have all the info I need. You have two options.” you turn to him. “I can drive you home now, or I could get you some coffee and you wait here until you blow a .02 then I’ll take you back to your car.”
“I take option B.” he says, tapping the corner of your desk as if to lock in his answer. “I don’t want to have to go get it tomorrow.”
“I’ll go get your coffee.” you go to get the two of you some much needed liquid energy. Normally, you wouldn’t just leave someone who was brought in for assault without cuffing them to your desk or asking someone to watch them, but you know him, and normally people wouldn’t voluntarily choose to hang out in a police station for any longer than they needed to. Tonight is full of many things outside the norm.
As you sit back down back down with your drinks, Taehyung returns from patrol duty, and beelines for Seokjin’s desk.
“Tag you’re it.” he says, patting Jin’s back, making him flinch.
“Officer Kim, don’t sneak up on me.” He says puffing out his chest.
“My apologies, Officer Kim.” they laugh. 
You miss the way Tae looks over at you, and his smile drops when he sees who is at your desk.
You and Jungkook sip your coffee with a comfortable silence, neither of you wanting or needing to address his long absence yet, not while you’re filling out a report with his name on it.
A couple hours pass like this, with you doing various paperwork, and him scrolling on his phone or staring into space. Yep, definitely hasn’t changed.
“Alright Jeon, once more.” you say handing him the breathalyzer again.
He does.
.01, good.
“Let’s get you to your car.” you stand, and walk out into the crisp dawn air.
The ride back doesn’t leave your mind swimming as much as the first time. There’s still a sizable elephant in the room, but the tension isn’t as unbearable as you’d imagined it would be.
You pull your car next to his, allowing him to return home. “Thank you.” He half smiles, unsure if he should say ‘see ya later’ or not, but you had a feeling you would soon.   — You awoke later that same day, when the peachy light of the sunset was flowing through your windows. Your shift at the station usually ran from midnight to ten in the morning, meaning you usually slept through most of the day. Though you didn’t mind, you’ve always been a night owl, nothing a little vitamin D supplements can’t fix.
Groaning as you roll over in your mess of blankets to check your phone, you find exactly what you were expecting.
Jimin (7:48pm): In need of stress relief, Doll? ;)
You (8:13pm): God, yes. When you couldn’t meet up last week I thought I was gonna implode :(
Jimin (8:15pm): Aw, you missed me? Cute
You (8:16pm): Don’t flatter yourself Park. I missed your dick
Jimin (8:17pm): I’m hurt :(
You (8:19pm): I’ll be over in 40. Be ready, handsome ;)
Jimin (8:19pm): :)
You toss your phone on your bed and get up to take a shower, a little hop in your step at the prospect of receiving an orgasm by someone else’s hand. And Jimin always delivered.
You wash your hair quickly, more concerned about shaving your legs for the first time in two weeks. After you’ve dried off, you lotion and perfume like normal. You slip on a tank top and leggings, knowing that he is a big fan of your ass. You take your uniform with you as well so you can head straight to work after your weekly dick transaction.
When you’re making your short drive to Jimin’s you find your mind wandering to Jungkook. How your heart skipped a beat when you saw him sitting on that curb. How he’s lost all the baby fat he used to hold in his cheeks, but his eyes still crinkle when he smiles. How having him stand in front of you for the first time in five years confirmed your adolescence wasn’t in fact a pipe dream your mind had fabricated after you decided to change everything you could. How though he’s jaded and may not know it himself, he’s the same boy you’ve always known. And how he still reminded you of-
But now wasn’t time to dwell, you’ve done enough of that. Tonight is supposed to be about the exact opposite. Free of stress. Free of thoughts. Only a couple hours of animalistic need. Then you could go back to reality.
“Hello y/n.” Jimin greets with a smile after your knuckles rap against his door. “Do you wanna talk? Before we…”
“Not really.” you answer a little too fast, crossing the threshold of his apartment.
“Works for me.” he says, noticing that you’re seeking more of the benefits than the friends side of this deal.
Without another word his hands are on your hips and his lips are on your neck, walking you backwards until your back is flush with the door. Noticing that you’re not in the mood for as much foreplay as normal, he immediately grazes his teeth against that spot on your neck that makes you sigh into his ear.
He’s always been very good at reading you, perhaps that’s why you agreed to this little arrangement. You’re not sure exactly how the two of you ended up fucking in the first place. Definitely had something to do with your collective blood alcohol level at the time. But when all was said and done that first time he told you he’d be more than willing to make it a regular thing. To make your shoulders relax every so often and it’s not as if he didn’t get anything out of it. Neither of you were in the headspace for a relationship, so the easy access to orgasms, with no strings attached was ideal for all parties involved.
Not that you weren’t friends outside his bedroom as well. You guys would hangout pretty often just as friends. You were fortunate that the line between your regular dose of stress relief and the platonic love you had for one another never blurred. Jimin was special in that regard.
Your hands find the hem of his shirt and he takes the hint quickly pulling it over his head. You do the same, and his hands eagerly cup your breasts. He reattaches his lips to the sweet spot on your neck biting down harder this time causing a small whine to fall from your lips. He smirks against your skin and runs his tongue along your reddened skin to sooth it.
Not wanting to waste anymore time than necessary you grab his hand and walk him to his bedroom. Once inside you put your hands on his chest and give him a firm push until his knees meet the edge of his mattress and he falls against it with a small bounce. When he falls back you remove your leggings and underwear, he does the same matching your urgency.
You climb over him planting your knees on either side of his hips, grinding your increasingly wet slit up his stiff length.
“You got hard pretty fast.” you say breath tickling his cheek and he slides his palms up your thighs to your ass, gently kneading the flesh in his hands.
“You said be ready.” he says smoothly, pushing his hips up to add to the friction on your clit. The extra contact catching you off guard making you place your hands on his shoulders for extra balance.
You feel his breath hitch beneath you when you wrap your hand around the base of his cock to guide him to your entrance. You sit down a little slower than you want to due you being a little less wet than usual.
It was your doing, he would’ve been glad to work you up properly, but you were seeking a quick release. Caught somewhere between wanting to take your time so your escape will last longer and needing to reach the cloudy peak as quickly as possible, putting as much distance as you can between you and the thoughts that lay in the valley of your metaphorical mountain. Though it seems your body was choosing the latter for you.
You rock your hips against his, enjoying the way his cock drags against your g-spot, sending heat from your core to your toes. You pick up your pace a little allowing yourself to let go as much as you can, jaw going slack and eyes closing tightly. Jimin groans at the sight, reaching up to toy with your pert nipples.
A light layer of sweat forms over both of your bodies, heating the room like a makeshift furnace. A furnace made of hot skin and moans instead of fire.
You increase the speed of your hips on his until your thighs start to burn, the dull ache in your limbs only adding to the fiery one in your pelvis. Your pants grow louder as your end is nearly in sight.
“Jimin,” you gasp with a mouth like cotton. “I need more.”
Your request straight to the point, he moves his hands to your hips, rubbing your clit one thumb and using his other hand to keep you in place while he thrusts up to meet yours roughly.
“Umph- fuck!” your voice cracks as you fall onto his chest, curling your fingers into his hair and pulling to keep you grounded as your orgasm rips through you.
Jimin groans deeply in your ear, you can tell how your fists in his hair and your walls clenching around him brought him to his end by how desperate his thrusts became. You can feel his cock pulsing as he coats your core with his cum.
You both lay like that for a few moments, his softening dick still tucked safely within you and labored breaths creating a fog around your heads.
“Can I use your shower? I don’t wanna go to work smelling of sex.” you ask and he chuckles against your shoulder.
“By all means.”
“Thank you.” you say, for both the shower and the sex.
He grabs your hand when you go to stand from the damp fabric of his bed. “Are you alright?” he decides to pry for the first time tonight. “You haven’t been that down to business since that fight with your mom a few months ago.” he says, concern laced in his features.
“Yeah.” you begin unsure. “Just, something happened last night that brought up some memories.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” he treads lightly, knowing what that statement could mean.
“I’ll be okay. You let me turn off my brain for a minute.” you smile and kiss his cheek.
“Happy to help. I’m here if you need anything.” he says with a stupid wink. Though you know he doesn’t just mean sex. Jimin has been a shoulder for you to cry on as long as you’ve known each other. You’ve always been there for him as well. A mutual understanding that you can come to each other for anything.
“I know, thank you Minie.” — You take a deep breath and run your hands through your hair, cursing the clock above the captain’s doorway that ticks just too loud for you to think. You blink a few times, your eyes struggling to focus on the text on your computer screen. You’re relieved when the phone on your desk starts to ring.
“Hello this is Officer l/n.” you say putting the phone to your ear, unfortunately excited about someone being in distress, but you’re about five minutes of screen time away from getting a migraine.
“Hello Miss l/n, this is Mrs. Choi,” here we go again. “I was wondering if you could send an officer to the house across the street? I think I saw some hoodlums trespassing.” and there it is.
“Of course Mrs. Choi,” you hold back a lengthy exhale. “I’ll go check it out, myself. Did you happen to see anything that could provide a description?”
“I’m afraid not dear, I only saw some trees rustling.” ah yes, the wind. Nature’s trespasser.
“Okay, I’ll take a look. Anything to help you sleep better at night, ma’am.” you smile as sweetly as you can despite her not being able to see you.
“Thank you Miss l/n.” she says promptly ending the call.
You let your breath out fully for the first time since the interaction began. And try your best to ignore how tense it makes you when she always calls you ‘Miss’ but calls all your male coworkers ‘Officer.’ You once put Jin in a choke-hold over a granola bar, you’re more than capable of holding your own, but that’s neither here nor there. Really.
“Mrs. Choi again?” Tae asks peering around the filing cabinet between your desks.
“The one and only.” you state. “She ordered the usual; someone to check the old abandoned house across from hers.”
“Well maybe if someone didn’t break into that place all the time in high school.” he says looking anywhere but at you.
“And now I’m the one who has to get rid of them. The world goes round, balance is restored. Hooray.“ you say feigning awe, he chuckles.
“Hey, I know how you are about that old place, do you want me to check it out for you?” Tae asks his expression morphing into worry.
“I got it, I’m okay. I need to stretch my legs anyway. But thank you Tae, really.” for the first few months you were a cop, you couldn’t even take the patrol route the old house was on without crying. He was always really nice about taking care of it for you. Officer Kim, always ready to jump in at a sign of distress, perhaps why he’s so good at his job.
“Okay, just let me know if you change your mind.” you hum an affirmative as you exit the building.
Though the bubble of anxiety in your stomach grows as you approach the run down house, it doesn’t spill out as tears anymore. You’ve come to accept this is as healed as your wounds will get.
You unlock the chain on the gate and make your way to the front door, knocking harshly before opening it.
“Police! Come out now and I won’t tell your moms what you’ve been doing!” you shout into the empty house. You’re sure the house is empty because every time there has been a few teens in here you can hear them run before you can even shout ‘police!’ but, you still need to do a walk through just in case.
Your cautious steps make the floorboards creak below you, the smell alone flooding your mind with memories.
There’s a sliding glass door in the back, that’s long since been shattered, where you used to sit and get a perfect view of the stars for hours with your first, and thus far only, love. 
Your mind wanders to when you used to play music off your phones and slow dance in the living room, skillfully avoiding the gaps in the old wood floor. It’s truly a wonder this place hasn’t been torn down yet, but you’re thankful, you don’t know if you could bear to see it go.
As you make your way down the dark hallway you get a small craving for a cigarette, having quit years ago now, but you can almost feel the dry paper on your lips as you make your way to the last bedroom in the house. You pause at the door.
Your eyes scan until they reach the corner of the room, pausing at the small carving in the wall. Your breath catches for the briefest of seconds when step close to it, tracing the heart with your fingers, careful to not get any splinters. Your fingers continue their journey, tracing the initials at its center with care.
Y/I + YG
“Babe! Angel! C’mere!” Yoongi’s smile beamed, gums and all.
“What?! What did you need to interrupt my sandwich eating to show me?” you follow his voice slightly annoyed, though you wondered why he disappeared for a few minutes, leaving you to munch in solitude. You had met here for a picnic, not uncommon for the two of you during the summer. He brought a blanket and you brought the burgers. You set up the picnic in the living room, with summer sun’s rays spilling through the old cracked windows, it’s a lot more beautiful than sitting in the middle of an abandoned house sounds.
“Look!” he says gesturing to the freshly carved wood on the wall, tucking his trusty knife back in his pocket.
“God, you’re so lame.” you smile and walk over to him. He wraps his arm around you, pulling you in close to admire his handy work.
“If I’m lame it’s your fault.” me chuckles running his hand through your hair. “I suppose, loving you makes me this way.” he hums jokingly.
“I never said it was a bad thing.” you look up at him, admiring the way the sun makes his bleached hair glow.
“You know I do right?” his tone drops a bit and his eyes search yours. “I love you.”
“Of course I know.” he only tells you everyday, yet you never tire of hearing it. You study his face, the slope of his nose and the little mole right next to it. His pink petal lips, that despite his reputation, you don’t know how anyone could be weary of a man with such beautifully delicate features. And his dark eyes that lighten only when he looks at you.
His gums return. He tilts your chin up to gently connect your lips. He tastes of the chocolate milkshake he drank not long ago, and you hum against his mouth.
“I love you too.”
The memory shifts, to one five months later.
“I love you too, angel.” his chilled lips peck yours, as he starts to climb out your bedroom window. The winter air makes you shiver when a gust of wind blows against your skin, with only your pajamas to keep you warm. Sometimes you’d sneak him overnight but with the first day back to school being tomorrow, it was too risky. If your mom caught him here again she’d have some choice words for the two of you, but she is a heavy sleeper, so as long as he left at a decent hour, nothing to worry about.
He hops down, his boots packing the snow beneath them when he lands. His head now a bit below yours as you lean out your first story window.
“Text me when you get home!” you remind him as he starts the small trek back to his car.
“Always!” he whisper-shouts back before disappearing around the side of your house.
You gaze up at the moon and take in a deep breath, trying to decide if the frozen air is refreshing or sharp on your lungs. You don’t take the time to figure it out before your window is shut and the air in your room feels hot against your cheeks.
You curl up in bed, and decide to scroll your various socials until your eyes get heavy.
You blink to help your eyes focus on the text on your screen, and decide to call it a night. You flick your eyes over to check the time.
2:30 am? Yoongi left at 2:00 and still no text? He’s always really good about telling you he got home, though he has forgotten a few times, no one is perfect.
“I’ll wait til he texts, he probably stopped for gas.” you mumble to no one.
2:45 am. You decide to text him.
You (2:46am): Love, did you make it home alright?
You (3:15am): I’m sure you just fell asleep.
You hit send trying to convince the panic knotting your stomach.
“He’s forgotten before, why am I freaking out so much?” you mumble to yourself rubbing your eyes. “I’ll just call him.”
My Love missed your call (3:23am)
My Love missed your call (3:35am)
My Love missed your call (3:42am)
“It’s Yoongi, leave your message after the beep.”
“Hi, I know that you’re probably just sleeping, and you’re gonna tell me that you’re fine in the morning.” you push out a laugh trying not to cry. “But I just can’t shake this feeling, so please please call me as soon as you wake up. I love you.”
My Love missed your call (4:01am)
You sit there staring at your phone in your hands, for a few minutes watching the clock on your screen change. Still nothing.
“Alright, fuck it.” you huff and grab your boots, shoving your feet in them and throwing on your jacket. You grab your keys and get in your car, you dial his number again while you start the engine, the route to his house flashing through your mind.
The dial tone in your ear stops ringing. “Thank fuck Yoongi!” the tears you’ve been holding back start to spill in relief. “You scared the-”
“This is Officer Jung.” a deep voice rings in your ear and your blood runs cold.
“What’s going on? What happened?” you ask frantic, the panic in your lungs turning into fire, the air feeling too thick to swallow.
“Ma’am, Min Yoongi was involved in an incident.” he says attempting to make his voice resemble something close to comfort. “The snow caught his tire and hi-”
“Is he okay?” you try to yell but your throat is closing.
“His car was pulled into a ditch, he-.”
“Is he fucking okay?!” your voice cracks and so does the dam holding back your tears.
“He didn’t make it.”
Your heart skips in a way you didn’t know it could, your body instantly too weak to hold itself or anything else. Your phone falls to the floor and your body falls against your steering wheel. You think you’re screaming but who can be sure with the ringing in your ears echoing in your skull. Your vision is blurred and your cheeks are wet. You were shivering when you climbed in your car but your skin has gone numb.
You don’t know how long you were crying in your car but by the time you were able to collect yourself enough to walk back to your bed your phone had no charge, and the sun had begun to rise.
When you finally turned your phone back on, you were flooded with people asking if you were okay, most of them you didn’t even know. After scrolling through your list of unopened texts, you answered only the one from his little brother.
Gukkie (7:38am): You okay?
You (8:44am): No
Gukkie (8:45am): Yeah, me either.
Now the ache is dull and the memories are faded. The anger and hurt that used to filter them turns more rosy as time goes on. And as with most wounds, there are scars. Love runs deep and Min Yoongi was your deepest river and your deepest cut.
You finish tracing the divots in the wood and smile bittersweetly. You place a kiss on the tips of your first and second fingers, you touch them to his initials and take a deep breath.
You let that breath go slowly as you walk out of the house, careful not to step on any of the less stable floor panels. Your lungs finally empty when you reach the gate where you can not-so-metaphorically lock up your past. — “Did you really need to cuff me?” you hear a familiar voice huff from behind you.
“Yes I did.” Tae grunts, you turn to see him holding Jungkook by the elbow before he  plops him down in the seat next to his desk.
“Alright, you’re the boss.” he says somewhere between sarcasm and defeat. He attempts to shift into a comfortable position, his cuffs against the metal chair hitting your ears in a less than pleasant way.
Jungkook glances your way and gives you a small nod when you catch eyes, and you do your best to pretend you meant to be staring at him. Though you’re sure he’s probably just as tense as you are. Police stations aren’t exactly the best place for a reunion. Especially twice.
“Name.” Taehyung states in a business-like tone.
“Jeon Jungkook.”
“Date of birth.” September first, 1997.
“September first, 1997.”
“Address.” 5235 west- shit I’m eavesdropping.
You shift in your seat and refocus on what you were doing before they came in. You try to at least.
Seokjin returns from his patrol route, entering the room the same as he always does, as loud as possible. “Tag you’re it!” he says with a childlike smile as he pats Tae on the shoulder.
“I’m kinda busy.” he gestures to Jungkook and his computer screen.
“I can take care of the report for you.” you butt in before you can think about the fact that you’re speaking. Tae slides his chair to your desk to get out of the other’s ear shot. “Do you really wanna deal with him? I know you’re not a big fan.” you lower your voice.
“Yeah, you have a point.” He thinks for a second, looking over at the man in question and grimacing slightly. “You sure?”
“Of course, I took care of him last week.” you say matter of factly. “And years before that.” you add after a beat. He nods in agreement, and grabs his jacket. “Change in plans Guk,” he smiles at the nickname he hasn’t heard from you in a long time. “You’re with me, Officer Kim has other business he needs to attend to.”
“Oh does he?” Jungkook mutters under his breath and you hold back a chuckle. He gets up from Tae’s desk and shuffles over to yours, his shoulders releasing slightly.
Without saying anything you unlock his wrists and set the cuffs on your desk, he rubs his skin a little too dramatically and you smile when he sits back in the chair looking more relaxed.
“Thank you.” Jungkook smiles. You miss the way Tae scowls at your gesture as he walks out of the building.
You start filing out the basics without question, as you know all the answers. He sits there tracing the walls with his eyes, far less entertaining than last week having already memorized the lack luster wallpaper.
“Alright Guk, what happened this time?” you say after a couple minutes.
“I didn’t fucking do anything.” he says widening his eyes clearly frustrated but not at you.
“It appears you did.” you say accusing him playfully.
“Seriously.” he relaxes a little. “I went to Red Eye again, I was minding my own business.” he points his finger at you in preemptive defense. “The same guy from last week-”
“The one whose face you busted?” you quip.
He stops, mouth slightly agape. “Yes, that one.”
“Continue.” you smirk and he glares at you slightly.
“I was sitting at the bar, he came up and started saying he could kick my ass for what I did. I told him to forget about it cause I wasn’t gonna fight him. He said I may look tough now but I’m still the same sixteen year old I was before everything. I got in his face, no fists mind you, and told him to fuck off. The security saw us yelling and told us we needed to leave, and I refused because I had done nothing wrong. He told me he would call the cops and the other guy left, but I sat my ass back down, cause The Man has never stopped me before. And bingo bango, Officer Pretty Boy cuffs me and I’m here.”
“You just can’t get rid of that rep of yours, can you?” you soften.
“I’m used to it, and it’s nothing I didn’t do to myself.” he shrugs. “Besides, I’d rather be feared than pitied.” his voice lowers, and your heart twinges.
“I don’t fear or pity you.” he smiles, not one of those smiles that’s big and all teeth, but one that’s small and warm. Jungkook had this way of saying everything he needed without speaking a word.
Silence falls over you while you finish writing the report. He didn’t do anything other than disturb the peace for a moment, no need for punishment harsher than a slap on the wrist.
“Ow!” he rubs his arm. “What the fuck was that for?” he questions, his brows furrow.
“It was a slap on the wrist.” you shrug. “You didn’t do anything that requires a fine or jail time, so you get a warning.”
“Aren’t you taking that a tad too literal?” he chuckles.
“I don’t think so.” you fight a smile. “I don’t wanna see you with flashing lights near you again unless you catch fire. Am I understood?”
“Yes ma’am.” he playfully salutes, but he knows you’re serious.
“Would you like a ride back to your car?”
“I can walk, that’s not necessary.” he says standing up and waving you off.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, the air will do me good.” his feet stutter. “Would you maybe want to get coffee on Wednesday? I didn’t imagine our reunion going quite like this.” he lets out a breathy laugh.
“I’d love that.” your eagerness to accept surprises you, and given the way he lights up, you surprise him too. — You mindlessly push the noodles you’ve been eating around on your plate letting the sound of other tables’ utensils clinking and your mother ramble on about her book club’s latest ventures buzz lowly in your head as you hum vague responses.
“… Jeon Jungkook moved back to town.” the mention of the name snaps you back into reality.
“What about Jungkook?” you ask, now at full attention.
“Have you heard he moved back to town?” she looks at you expectantly.
“I- um. I thought I saw him in the grocery store the other day, but I assumed I was seeing things.” you say keeping your voice as steady as possible.
“His mother is absolutely over the moon about it.” she says, wholly missing your lie as she was too excited at the prospect of telling you the latest gossip. Small town doesn’t leave one with much else to do.
“I’m sure she is.” you say and your chest can’t help but warm at the thought of Mrs. Jeon being so excited to see her son after he’s been gone for three years.
“She’s so happy he finally gave up on that god awful garage band.” she says, relief filling her face, and you roll your eyes. You had nearly forgotten he went to the city to make it big, you hadn’t ever doubted them, his voice alone was label worthy. “What were they called again? Red appendix?”
You blink. “Crimson Heart?” you offer her, knowing full well you’re correct.
“Ah right! That’s the one.” she says laughing at the, admittedly edgy, name. “I’m so glad he’s cleaning up his act, I expected better of him.” she adds, shaking her head. Your shoulders tense at her statement.
“Did you hear Jeon Jungkook got busted for spray painting the movie theater?” your mom questions as she leans on your door frame. Your face buried in some book you didn’t know the name of, as long as it had words in it. Mind numbing words.
“Um, no mom. I didn’t.” you mumble clearly uncomfortable with the subject. It was summer now, about six months since that night. The cold unforgiving weather that changed your world in an instant long since melted away, and as free as summer used to make you feel, it just feels hot and bitter against your skin.
“It just makes me sad, I expected better for him.” her voice solemn, clearly not ready to let the topic go.
You couldn’t muster a response that wasn’t yelling or trying to reason with her, which would get you nowhere.
“I never understood why you couldn’t have chosen the good brother.”
Your fingers clench around your book wrinkling the pages. She’d said that for years but sting you felt this time was far deeper.
“He was so studious and stayed out of trouble, but it looks like I was wrong.” she says, appearing more upset that her judgment was off, rather than the obvious issue at hand.
“Can we please not talk about them.” you plead softly, fighting your closing throat and watering eyes.
“Honey, I know you miss him, but look how much better you’re doing now! You’re reading for pleasure.” I’m reading so I can’t think. “You raised your GPA up almost a whole point before the year ended.” My test scores are the same, I just did my homework. “And I haven’t found cigarettes under your bed in months!” She seems most excited about that one. I’ll give her the smoking, they don’t fill my lungs the same way they used to. How can they when I can’t catch my breath?
Her attempt at comfort doing nothing but reminding you that you can’t be who you want to be anymore. You’d become someone who does any trivial task they can as not to spend too much time alone with their thoughts. Instead of someone who didn’t give a shit, did what they wanted to do, and most importantly had their love by their side. “Yeah, I guess not smoking anymore is good.”
“You know I always rooted for you two.” your mom says, her smile mischievous.
“I know, you always told me he was the ‘good brother’.” you try to conceal your eye roll at the same conversation you’ve had with her a million times.
“Before you and Yoongi got together, too.” she adds.
“What?” now this surprised you.
“His mom and I used to talk about how cute you’d be when you were all in elementary.” she remembers fondly.
You try to respond but you’re too shocked that her infatuation with Jungkook went past him being ‘so close yet so far.’
“Anywho, I just hope he can find the boy he used to be.” she hums.
You agree, but for largely different reasons. Your chest blooms at the thought of a smiling Jungkook.
“So do I, mom.” — Jimin (6:37pm): Hey Doll, in need of extra McLovin after lunch with The Wicked Witch of the West?
You (6:45pm): Actually, I feel okay Minie, but thank you
You (6:46pm): I’m doing better
Jimin (6:53pm): I’m proud of you, beautiful
You (7:04pm): Me too — When you walk into the coffee shop a few minutes before you were supposed to meet you’re surprised to see Jungkook already sitting at a small table by the wall of large windows with two cups of coffee placed in front of him.
“Hey Guk.” you sit down, shoulders relaxing.
“I got your old order, I hope that’s okay.” he smiles nervously.
“How the hell did you remember that?” you gasp, taking a long sip from your cup.
“You’ve had a caffeine addiction since you were like fourteen, and you practically lived at my house.” he chuckled.
“I suppose you’re right.” you nod in agreement and take another sip, the drink making your taste buds dance.
“Listen,” Jungkook begins, rubbing the back of his neck. “I want to apologize for the whole you arresting me twice thing.” he hesitates.
“Technically, I didn’t arrest you the second time.” you correct with a smile, trying to ease his obvious guilt.
“Still.” his voice insistent, almost stern. “That isn’t exactly how I wanted us to meet again after five years. It didn’t feel right to not fix it.” his face seeking the approval that his apology did, in fact, fix it.
“There was nothing to fix really, Guk. But thank you.” you soften. “I don’t think of you any different. How could I, given my past?” he chuckles at that. “And you got the shit end of the stick in both situations. I still know you’d never do anything truly bad, you’re all bark and no bite.”
“Oh, you don’t think I can bite?” he tongues the inside of his cheek smugly.
“Would you shut up?” his face shifts immediately, his eyes crinkling. “I’m serious.” you groan, but the heat threatening your cheeks and ears contradicts you. Well, that’s odd. Anyway.
“Okay.” he says after a beat. “C’mon y/n, I know you’re dying to know why I came back. Just ask.” he states, less than smoothly steering the conversation.
“Why would I wonder about you inexplicably reappearing after three years of nearly zero contact with anyone? It hasn’t crossed my mind at all.” your mouth laced with sarcasm.
“You think you’re so funny.” he squints. “I am.” you wave him off. “Alright, spill Rockstar, since you want to so bad. Why’d you give up living it up in the city to come back to all this?”
“Actually.” he laughs. “They kicked me out of the band like two years ago.”
You blink. “What? Why would they kick out their only talent?” you say screwing your brow in offense.
He nearly chokes on his coffee. He sputters trying to catch his breath, wiping his mouth on this arm. “Thank you.” he clears his throat. “But they were definitely better off without me.”
“How do you figure?”
“I wasn’t in the best place when the guys and I moved over there, for obvious reasons.” you nod. “I was getting black out drunk every other night. And writing songs that were just, not good. The kind of sad that isn’t relatable anymore, it was just painful and would make the crowds go silent.”
You grab his hand wishing you could’ve been there when he really needed it, but now will have to do. He smiles.
“The last straw though, was one night I got absurdly drunk right before a gig, and I thought I could handle it because I had been tipsy on stage before. They told me not to but I didn’t listen, and when I got to the song that I wrote about Yoongi, I just broke down sobbing on stage. I was embarrassed so I just fucked off out of the venue and kept running until I didn’t recognize where I was anymore.”
“Guk, I’m so sorry.” you squeeze his hand, and he rubs his inked thumb over you knuckles to tell you not to worry.
“No it’s okay, the guys found me the next morning, passed out in a Denny’s.” he chuckles stiffly. “They brought me home and told me that I needed to get help, they didn’t want to watch me self-destruct anymore, and at the time I was hurt but I’m grateful. It still took me a fucking while to work up the courage to come home, but if I didn’t have anyone tell me to try, I don’t think I’d be home now.” his expression turned from bitter to sweet as he recounted his story.
“I’m glad you’re home.”
“Me too.” he smiles, the stars in his eyes multiplying when he looks at you. “My dumbass fifteen year old self thought if I went dark side I could fill the hole he left, but I didn’t know what dark side really looked like until it was too late. Then it just became something I told myself so I didn’t have to face the fact that I was doing shitty shit.”
“You sound like you’ve taken a lot of time to reflect.” you say impressed.
“Limiting your alcohol intake to a normal human level will do that to you.” he chuckles.
“My dumbass sixteen year old self wasn’t much better, arguably worse.” you counter. “I thought if I got rid of everything in my life that reminded me of him, I could force myself to forget.” your face falls slightly. “Which is worse? Diving in head first or turning your back entirely?” you push out a sound that’s supposed to be laugh.
“I think both are pretty fucking miserable.” you both laugh, he gives you reassuring look. “But, tragic backstory aside. I wanted to come home to face the music and make amends with my mom.”
“My mom told me she’s very happy you’re home.” you can’t help but feel her relief.
“Yeah, I really put her through hell.” his guilt present in his expression.
“But you’re here now, aren’t you?” he relaxes, his gaze fixed on yours for a moment. There’s those stars again.
He blinks, snapping his attention to his coffee. “I’m gonna get a refill” he says, disconnecting your hands, that you had forgotten you were holding, to tap his empty cup on the table. “Do you want another?”
“Yes please.” you say turning to rummage in your bag for a few dollars to give him, but when you turn around he’s already in line. You deflate setting the cash in front of you.
Your eyes wander around the cafe, inspecting the comforting eclectic vibe it produced. Your gaze stops on Jungkook standing in line, studying how his features have changed, how he has grown a few inches, his shoulders have broadened and how you can see the way his bicep flexes ever so slightly when he takes the coffee from the barista. What the fuck? Did I just check him out?
You inhale sharply, turning your focus on anything happening on the street outside the window.
When he’s seated back in front of you, you slide the small bills in his direction. He promptly slides them back towards you and you glare at him.
“When did you get so hell-bent on being nice?” he smiles.
You scrunch your brows and drop your jaw. “What do you mean? I’ve always been nice?” you question in defense and he laughs.
“You used to make fun of me all the time.” he states, crossing his arms.
“I mean yeah, but like in a sibling banter type way.” you frown. “Did you really think I was trying to bully you?”
“No!” he reassures. “I mean it kinda sucked because…” he trails off and takes a sip of his coffee in an attempt to abandon his sentence.
“Because?” You’re not getting away that easy.
“You know it’s funny.” he breathes. “I used to have a huge crush on you.” he admits nervously.
“And?” you blink.
“And?” he echos. “No reaction? Not even a slight inhale?”
“I knew, Gukkie.” you break as softly as you can.
Now it’s his turn to be surprised. “You did?” his furrows his brows in offense.
“We both did.” you laugh lightly. “Why do you think Yoongi left an obnoxious amount of hickies on my neck?” you can’t help but cringe a little at the memory.
“That asshole!” Jungkook’s jaw drops, and you snort. “I just thought you were normal slutty teenagers.”
“I didn’t say we weren’t.” you add trying to contain your laughter at the attention his outburst brought you.
He throws you an accusatory squint. “You guys suck.” — “You didn’t need to walk me back to work.” you beam at Jungkook as you walk through the doors of the station. “I don’t need protection.”
“I know you don’t.” he defends. “Maybe I just wanted an excuse to spend more time with you.” you laugh.
“What did he do this time?” Taehyung chimes in loudly from his desk.
You turn to face him. “Nothing, we just got coffee and caught up.”
His expression remains bitter and unconvinced. You opt for brushing him off.
“Thank you, Gukkie.” you smile when you turn back to Jungkook.
“No, you.” he says, patting your hair affectionately before he exits.
You stand at your desk, shifting various papers to pick up where you left off when you see Taehyung approaching you out of the corner of your eye.
“What the fuck, y/n?” he asks angrily, and you widen your eyes in confusion.
“I’m sorry, did I do something wrong?”
“Listen, I get it.” he ignores you. “You let him off easy a couple times because you have history together or whatever. But now you’re going on a date with him?” he accuses.
“Tae, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” he scoffs, and your jaw tenses. “I would never slack on my job. And that most definitely was not a date.” your words sharp, hoping you’ll get him to drop whatever bullshit this is.
“Then why would you let him go both times?” he crosses his arms waiting impatiently for a response.
“I didn’t ‘let him go,’ because we had no reason to keep him. It’s not illegal to defend yourself or to be a bit of a stubborn ass.” you defend, raising your voice. “He didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Sure okay.” Tae says, clearly annoyed averting his gaze from you.
“I trust him, and you should trust me Taehyung. Why are you being like this?” your voice falling slightly. “Because, I care about you, and the kid is bad news. Do you not remember all that shit he pulled at the end of high school before he took off for several years? He can just show up and everything is heart eyes and open arms?” he says trying to convince you but all it does is make your blood boil.
“I appreciate your concern,” you bite. “But you don’t know him.” He shakes his head letting out a stiff laugh. “Figures you wouldn’t be able to read him, you always did know how to pick ‘em.” “What the fuck, is that supposed to mean?” you say all but seeing red, trying but failing not to yell.
He tongues his cheek and turns to walk back to his desk, very much done with the subject, but you were far from it.
“No!” you say following him. “You can’t just say that and then walk away. Explain yourself.” “I don’t know what the fuck is going on out here but it’s going to end right now.” Captain Kim Namjoon says sternly from his office doorway, arms crossed tight on his chest. “Our apologies, Sir.” you say, both of you bowing at him.
“Y/n, you look frazzled, go home and walk it off.” he offers pointing at the door. “Captain, we’ll drop it. I-” “It wasn’t a suggestion, Officer y/l.” he interrupts. “I expect you’ll be better tomorrow.” his voice a little softer now.
“Yes, Sir.” you bow again, and turn on your heals quickly, avoiding Tae entering your line of vision.
You white knuckle your steering wheel your whole drive home, you’re probably speeding but you can’t be bothered to check. What are you gonna do? Get pulled over?
When your car is parked, you fish your phone out of your pocket. You pull up Jungkook’s contact and your finger hovers over the call button for a second, but you can’t bring yourself to press it with him having been so happy when you two parted less than an hour ago. You opt for seeking comfort from someone else.
You (3:32pm): I need you
Jimin (3:35pm): I’m off in an hour <3 — Your chest rises and falls rapidly while you stare at Jimin’s ceiling, waiting for the normal relief that settles after you two have sex.
But even after you’ve caught your breath you still don’t feel it, the sweat covering your body starting to feel less like afterglow and more like guilt. Why won’t my chest unknot? We’ve hate-fucked countless times. What’s different?
You brush it off shaking your head in the hopes you can trick yourself into feeling normal, before you stand up to gather your clothes. You shudder at how sticky your skin feels against itself as you button up your shirt.
You decide some fresh air would do you good, and you open his bedroom window and take a breath and let the flowers outside fill your nose.
“You okay, beautiful?” Jimin’s voice sounds from behind you. “I don’t think I can do this anymore.” you say before you can fully register what you’re saying. You turn to him, his towel hanging lowly on his hips and the hand tousling his damp hair stops in its tracks, his eyes widen. “Is the sex not good anymore? I thought you liked it when I bit your ass.” he chuckles through his worry. His joke makes you soften a little. “No, it’s not anything you did.” you say walking over to hold his hands. “Remember how I said I was doing better?” he nods, his worry fades into a smile. “Turns out that’s more true than I thought it was.” you say and as the words leave your mouth, your body finds that relief it was looking for. Feeling like, for the first time in forever you don’t need to escape your own mind for a minute to function. “Is there a guy?” he quirks a mischievous brow. “Are you ready to be monogamous?” he gasps dramatically. You shove his shoulder while he giggles. “No guy, I just…” you think for a moment. “Don’t need to forget anymore.” you breathe, lungs feeling lighter, and he smiles brightly.
He hugs you tightly. “I really am proud of you, y/n.” he says into your hair. You smile against his shoulder. “Me too.”
You break the hug and he frowns slightly. “Guess it’s you and me for a while now bud.” he says looking at his palm.
“Jimin, I just had an emotional epiphany, and it only took you two seconds to be gross again?” “That’s why you love me.” he laughs trying to give you another hug. You laugh, pushing him by the shoulders. “Fuck off, Park.” — The sun hits your skin warming it despite the cool breeze, music playing your ears as your feet keep a steady rhythm against the pavement below you. Your late morning jog becoming more of a nature walk with the changing seasons. The greenery returning and the sweet smell it provides makes your limbs feel a bit lighter. You nearly throw a punch when someone starts jogging next to you. You stumble slightly after you nearly run into a sign. When you pull your ear buds out he’s laughing at you.
“Careful there.” Jungkook laughs, continuing to match your pace. “You scared the fuck out of me.” you huff steadying yourself. “What are you doing?” “Um-” He looks at you and then his feet. “Jogging?”
“Astute observation,” you smile in spite of yourself. “I mean why are you following me, creep?” you laugh. “I was jogging on the other side of the street and when I saw you I thought I’d join.” he shrugs. “I guess that’s allowed.” Neither of you talks for a few minutes, nothing but your shoes fitting the sidewalk and your heavy breaths filling your ears.
Normally with a silence like this your mind would shuffle through the files of your mind, bringing a similar memory to the forefront, good or bad. But you come up blank. You inhale deeply deciding to file this under ‘Something New.’
“Are you getting tired?” He asks. “No?”
“Good.” he smiles and tries to wink before he picks up his pace, pulling ahead of you. “A race? What are you, twelve?” you laugh running faster.
“Sorry, I can’t hear you over me winning!” he calls over his shoulder, and you groan at the considerable distance he’s put between you.
“You’re an asshole!” you pick up your speed fully running ahead of him.
You laugh and chase each other halfway across town, if you could see how you look you would probably be embarrassed, but you can’t be bothered to think about anything but the wind hitting your face and the idiot you’re running with.
He stops in front of a small market, and contrary to how you struggle to catch your breath, your lungs feel fuller than they have in years.
“Do you wanna get ice cream?” he questions, eyeing the banner in the store window.
“Won’t that negate all the exercise we just did?” you breathe, wiping sweat off your forehead. “And?” “You make a strong argument.” you say pushing the door to the corner store open and sighing when the air condition hits you like a refreshing wall. You walk straight to the large freezer to pick out your respective flavors.
You wordlessly decide to walk home in favor of more running, talking about nothing between bites of your cold treats, and you can’t help but think the flowers smell a little sweeter. — You have more work to catch up on than you normally do, you opt for having lunch at your desk so you can work through your break. You have your lunch to your side as your fingers click away on your keyboard.
Something being placed gently on your desk draws your attention away from your screen. You look over too a coffee cup with ‘I’m sorry’ written on it and with a sheepish looking Tae with his hand still wrapped around it. “I’m sorry.” he says looking guilty. “Tae-”
“I acted like a complete ass the other day.” he interrupts before you can even fully think of a response. “Well I won’t argue with that.” you soften and he looks the slightest bit relieved. “I just care about you, and I don’t trust him.” he reiterates his statement from a few days prior.
“This apology was going so well.” you half laugh.
“But!” he adds quickly. “But, I trust you. And if you trust him, then that’s good enough for me.” he says with large eyes, nudging the coffee toward you in the hopes you’ll accept his regret. “Thank you, Tae.” you say taking a sip of the bittersweet drink, appreciating his sincerity. Truth be told, you had already begun to forgive him, he just wants you to be happy. If he expresses his concerns in a less assholistic way next time, you’d be happy to listen. “And I won’t stand in your way if you want to date him.” he smiles. “Like you could, I can kick your ass Kim.” you laugh. “And what is it with you and us dating? I promise you, it’s not like that.”
“Awfully defensive for someone who has no reason to be.” he eyes you with a stupid smirk.
“I just forgave you, don’t push it.” you point a finger and he raises his hands in defense though he doesn’t drop the taunting smirk on his face. He walks backwards to his desk and sits in his chair giving you a nod as one last confirmation that you’ve forgiven him. You continue your work, the air feeling light in the station for the first time since your fight. So focused on your pile of tasks you don’t even notice it’s dark out until the phone rings and makes you look up from your computer.
“Hello, this is Officer y/l.”
“Hello dear, this is Mrs. Choi.” she says sweetly. It’s like clockwork with this fucking lady. “Could you possibly send an officer to this side of town? I saw a young man in a black hoodie hop the fence to the old place.” Well that is far more description than usual.
“Of course, I’ll go make sure everything is okay.” you reassure.
“It’s appreciated as always, Miss y/n.” she says before she hangs up.
“Mrs. Choi?” Tae asks lazily, not even lifting his eyes from his computer.
“Yep.” you say tossing your jacket on.
“Do you want me to check on it?” now he’s looking at you, a hint of concern in his eyes.
“No, I’ll be fine.” you smile. More than fine this time.
Your drive to the old house feels way more like a normal patrol than it ever has, the air feeling like a fog has been cleared. Or perhaps you’re just getting a little too used to Mrs. Choi’s usual request.
You walk down the familiar dirt driveway and your eyebrows furrow when you see a light in the window. Incredible, the old woman who cried wolf is actually right.
“Police!” you shout before you turn the doorknob, your guard not too high as you’re expecting a harmless teenager. Though you’re surprised when you find Jungkook sitting against the wall at the edge of the tattered living room, his legs bent with his forearms resting on them and a bottle of whiskey by his hip. “I’m not here to damage any property.” he says calmly, raising his hands above his head in a lazy surrender. “What are you doing here?” you ask and point your flashlight at the ceiling to better light the space, the light on his phone not doing very much by itself.
“It was something of a quiet place for me. I guess old habits die hard.” he said patting the dusty wall he’s leaning against.
“It was for me too.” you breathe, you look around the room taking in how it’s become even more run down and not quite as beautiful as you remember but breathtaking even without the fantastical dream cloud your memories have become muddled with. “Did he bring you here too?” he looks at you through his messy hair, much more practiced than you at bringing Yoongi up in conversation.
“Yeah he did.” you smile fondly. “We used to have picnics here all the time during the summer.”
“Sounds romantic.” he says, with a comedic scoff.
“Hey, for a sixteen year old? Peak romance.” you retort and he chuckles, letting his head fall against the wall. “He never told me he brought you here too.” you furrow your brows. “Makes sense though, it was his favorite place.” “Yeah, he brought me here a few times when he could ‘remove the stick from my ass.’” he laughs at the memory. “I never understood, there’s about three inches of dust on everything and all the windows are cracked.” he shakes his head. “But after he was gone, it was the most peaceful place I could find. There’s no place as serene as these four shitty walls.” he smiles looking up at you. “It was far less peaceful for me after the accident. The silence coming from this place was deafening for a long time.” you take a seat next to him. “But it’s not so bad anymore.” you hum, eyes scanning the room. You sit in a comfortable silence for a few minutes letting the sound of the crickets fill your ears, doing your best to not disrupt the stillness around you.
“I want to thank you.” your mouth making the decisions for you once again. “I missed you a lot and spending time with you has been really nice. I��ve been able to face things again that I didn’t think I ever would.” you steady your breath. “So, thank you.”
“I should thank you too.” he begins, and you turn to watch the way his profile moves when he speaks. “I can’t recall a time I smiled when thinking of him. It feels nice to reminisce, not just remember and wish he was still here.”
“God, he wouldn’t recognize either of us.” you say looking down at your uniform and Jungkook’s dirtied jeans.
“He’d kick both our asses.” you laugh.
“You know for a long time,” you hum, leaning your head on his shoulder. “I was upset because I lost the boy I was in love with.” he shifts a bit. “But somewhere along the way, it became less about being in love and more that someone I cared for so deeply was gone. I don’t know when or where I fell out of love, but it took me a long time to realize that I had.” “I don’t think falling in or out of love can be pinned to a single moment. You just kinda have to take a step back every so often to assess how fucked you currently are.” he laughs, leaning his head on yours. “How vulgar yet profound.” you smile and lace your fingers together. Your mind is running at a dull roar. You had never actually said you weren’t in love with Yoongi out loud before, not even to yourself. You suppose on some level you’ve known for years but saying it made you aware of just how true it was, like you’d been standing on a diving board for ages and finally took the leap that wasn’t so scary after all. You’d still give your left arm to have him there with you now, whether you were still just as in love or maybe just a friend. You still loved him but maybe… I’m not in love anymore. Before you have a chance to explore that thought further you feel Jungkook’s lips on yours, you gasp slightly and move your mouth with his, humming at how soft his lips are.
Despite your realization, when you close your eyes you’re overwhelmed with how familiar this feels. The stale smell of the wood around you and images of Yoongi kissing you right where you’re sitting flashing through your mind. Suddenly your heart is beating in your ears and just as quickly as it began you break the kiss.
“Fuck, y/n I’m so sorry.” he says when his eyes meet yours again. “No don’t be, it’s okay.” you say, trying but failing to keep your voice steady as you stand. He gets up to follow you but his feet seem to be stuck. “I didn’t mean to-”
“Don’t worry about it.” you force a smile. “I should get back to work, I’ll see you Guk.” You say trying to ignore how your throat wants to close. He doesn’t answer, just watches as you close the door behind you, leaving him alone in the empty house. The sense of serenity he found within these walls fades as the light of your flashlight gets further away.
You pull out of the driveway, and remember why you were here in the first place when you see Mrs. Choi’s house across the street. You decide to say fuck it and drive back to the station and hope that she just went to bed. — You (2:30am): Sorry I left. I just need to think
Jungkook (2:37am): No I’m sorry, take your time
You read the same two texts over for what has to be the three hundredth time in the last few days. For a long time you stared at it unsure if you should respond, and then too much time had passed.
Not even texting could be simple with Jungkook.
But where the paradox lies is, if you stop thinking, the smile you hold when you’re with him is the simplest thing you’ve ever done.
Just like the texts you play the kiss in your mind on a loop, your lips tingling at the memory. The old house under your feet and Jungkook’s arms around you crosses too many wires in your brain for anything to make sense.
All you know is… when he kissed your lips you felt like you could breathe again. — You’re sitting on your couch when you hear a frantic knocking at your door. You jump at the sound and check the time. 11:30? What the hell? Your training kicks in and you approach your door and open it slowly.
“Okay listen, I’m so fucking sorry.” Jungkook rambles frantically pushing past you beginning to pace around your living room. “It was fucked up to kiss you, but I just- your eyes looked so beautiful and- shit that’s not the point.” he runs a hand through his hair trying to collect his thoughts. “Guk, it’s okay. You don’t need to-”
“I know what I did was shitty but we haven’t talked in days, and I can’t bear to not have you in my life again.” he’s on the verge of yelling at this point. “This time since I’ve been home with you is the most alive I’ve felt since I was fucking fifteen.”
“I’m not upset with y-”
“I know, I wouldn’t forgive me either, but I needed to try and-”
“Oh for fucks sake.” you mumble as he continues to ramble. You take in a breath. “I wanted you to kiss me!”
“I-” he finally stops, nearly out of breath. “You what?” “I wanted you to kiss me, that’s what scared me.” you clarify now that he’s listening.
He just blinks unsure of what to say. He imagined this going far differently, something more along the mine of you slamming the door in his face, but you didn’t and his heart swells as he takes in your words. “I want it too.” you continue though you’re unsure where you’re going. “I love you, Jungkook, and I can’t get your stupid pretty smile out of my head and-”
“You love me?” the words falling from his mouth softly, and his gaze fixes on your face.
“Yes.” you breathe realizing what you just said. “And it scares the shit out of me.”
“How do you think I feel? I’m in love with my deceased brother’s ex.” he counters, laughing at how ridiculous your situation is, and your heart can’t help but race at his bittersweet words. “But you’re the first time I’ve felt home in forever.” he says, his eyes hiding behind messy bangs.
“Me too.” you admit, and the air in your lungs feels lighter. “I know he would want us to follow our hearts but… like this?” you ask sheepishly, maintaining the distance between you as if neither of you are allowed to cross the invisible threshold.
“I think that even if you guys got the opportunity to break up like two normal ass teenagers…”  he begins, his face full of concern but his eyes filled with the hope that you’ll agree. “He always wanted everyone he cared about to be happy, and fuck y/n, you make me so happy. You always have.” There’s those stars again.
“But I feel guilty.” your eyes threatening to water for the first time in a long time, and your lips tingle at the memory of Jungkook’s lips on yours. “Me too.” he takes a step closer to you. “But we don’t have to. We can-” “No, you don’t understand.” you interrupt and he deflates. “I feel guilty because even though we’re talking about him… I can’t stop thinking about how badly I want you to kiss me again.” “Fuck, okay.” he says as if you had just stolen the air from his lungs. He quickly closes the gap between you and reconnects your lips. You put your arms around his neck and attempt to pull him as close as you can, his hands are warm on your jaw and the dream cloud in your mind feels as if it’s been wrapped around the two of you. A blanket of home that you didn’t know had been missing until you had it again.
You run your fingers through his hair and savor how it feels in your hands. He licks into your mouth and his heavy breaths feel hot between kisses. He feels almost frantic as you feel his nails gently dig into the sides of your neck, as though you’d slip out of his grasp if he doesn’t tighten his grip, the dull pressure making you moan into his mouth.
You put your hands on his and he relaxes his fingers. You pull his bottom lip between your teeth, tugging it lightly and he groans at the sensation, your thighs rub together at how you’re affecting him.
You wordlessly guide him to the couch and nudge him gently until his shoulders are flush with the back of the couch. You straddle him and his thighs flex underneath your ass, you resist the urge to grind down onto him in favor of kissing along his jaw.
His tense shoulders release under your hands as your lips continue their path to his neck. Your teeth graze his skin and his breath catches in your ear, you smirk and bite down harder. His hands quickly grab onto your hips squeezing them in tandem with your mouth, you run your tongue along his reddened skin and your sounds create the most beautiful harmony you’ve ever heard.
Your hips give into temptation and grind down on his hardened dick, the layers between you not doing much in the way of friction but the way his hands tighten around your waist send heat through you melting you from the inside out.
Your hand snakes between you to palm him through his jeans and you move your head up to face him, to see how sweet he looks with his eyes squeezed shut and lips parted from your touch. He reconnects your mouths and the kiss is messy as neither of you can properly think.
You break the kiss and quickly slip to your knees between his thighs. You tuck your fingers into his waistband and pause your movement, eyes searching for his. “Is this okay?” you ask with a slight tug to his pants, he answers by smirking lazily and helping you slide them down his hips.
You pull his boxers down and your mouth waters when you see his dick, the tip a frustrated shade of red. You run your tongue along the thick vein on the underside of this length, wrapping your lips around it when you reach the tip. He groans as if he’s relieved to finally have your lips wrapped around him. He grips your hair tightly, fingers flexing against your scalp as he fights the urge to push your head down to his base.
“Fuck, your mouth feels so good, sweetheart.” he says out of breath, working against his flexing abdomen to keep his voice steady. You hum around him in response making his hips stutter against your mouth, and arousal pools at your core.
You sink your mouth as far down as you can and he moans deeply holding your head in place beginning to thrust into your mouth to test the waters. You grip his thighs to ground yourself and do your best to ignore the way your lungs are beginning to burn. He picks up his pace and you take his cock in your throat until tears prick in your eyes. You tap his thigh and he takes the hint releasing your head so you can breath again.
“You like having your pretty mouth fucked, don’t you?” he questions as he wipes a tear from your eye with his thumb. You nod eagerly and move to take his cock back in your mouth but his grip on your hair stops you. “Patience beautiful,” his eyes darken looking at your swollen lips. “Open.” he says, his voice low. You oblige, flatting your tongue for good measure, he spits in your mouth and his cock twitches at the sight. He lowers your lips back on his dick, the extra wetness making him groan at how messy you look, and you try to keep your throat as relaxed as you can, doing your best to ignore the growing arousal between your legs.
He breaks his assault on your mouth, pulling your head up with a wet pop and you gasp. “Can I taste you too, sweetheart?” he asks sweetly despite how ready he looks to devour you.
“Yes Sir.” you answer and his pupils twitch at the name.
“You’re gonna ruin me.” he laughs stiffly, releasing your hair and you realize how sore your scalp is.
You stand on shaky legs, he sheds his shirt and you follow suit before laying on the couch in front of him. You tuck your fingers in your waistband but he stops you. “Let me.” He says his eyes softening and you relent.
He puts his large palm on your waist and kisses your lips slowly contradicting his previous actions. He leaves hot open mouthed kisses on your neck and down your chest, the wet trail he leaves behind feeling cold when the air hits it. He wraps his mouth around one of your hardened nipples, swirling his tongue and teasing his teeth on the sensitive skin.
Your moan catches in your throat as he bites down and your hand tangles in his hair trying to pull him closer. His free hand runs up your arm removing it from his head and pinning against the cushion gently, you lace your fingers together and you can feel him smile against your chest.
His mouth doing little to relieve the real fire you’re feeling growing deep in your abdomen. You give into the urge to move your hips against his waist and he chuckles deeply taking the hint and continuing his path down your stomach, nipping at your skin when he reaches the hem of your pants.
His breathing picks up again as he slips your pants down your legs and the wet spot on your underwear is exposed to his gaze. He takes his time removing your panties, reveling in the string of your slick that follows. “Such a pretty pussy.” he breathes quietly just to himself.
He tosses them on the floor and eagerly puts your thighs on his shoulders placing gentle pecks anywhere but where you need his mouth. You roll your hips to meet his face and he smirks darkly at your frustration. After properly enjoying your wordless plea he gives you what you want, licking a long flat stripe from your entrance to your clit and you whine at the small bit of relief he’s giving you.
“Did you get this wet just from sucking my cock, sweetheart?” you deflate slightly at his teasing and nod, clenching around nothing at his words. He swallows a groan at the sight in front of him.
He wastes no time wrapping his lips around your clit, swirling tongue in delicious circles. A moan rips out of your throat at the sudden stimulation and he groans wrapping his arms tighter around your thighs.
You move your hips against his face and he shifts his mouth to collect your juices on his tongue before moving back up to your clit. You fight how your thighs want to close around his head but he only presses himself further into you at the shaking against his ears.
You feel him at your entrance, stretching you slowly with two fingers as he continues his work on your clit. He curls his digits into you and your hips buck at the sensation.
“That’s my good girl, fuck yourself on my tongue.” he moans into your folds, flattening his tongue for you to use. He picks up the pace of his hand and you rut against his mouth. The sounds you’ve been swallowing down flowing out of your lips before you can stop them.
“Jungkook, fuck!” you whine and he scissors his fingers faster to bring you to your rapidly approaching peak. Your walls clench and your rhythm falters, he wraps his lips around your clit sucking as he does. Your orgasm rips through you and onto his fingers with a loud moan.
“You’re so beautiful.” he says breathless, he almost sounds amazed that someone can look so beautiful when they cum.
He quickly climbs over you, whipping his mouth with the back of his hand and reconnecting your lips as soon as he reaches your face, he can’t get enough of your lips and you moan at your taste on his mouth.
He slips his pants down his legs, and lines himself up with your entrance, gasping at your wetness on his painfully hard cock. His eyes widen “I didn’t bring a-”
“I’m on the pill.” you reassure, grinding up against his dick.
“Thank fuck.” he sighs, pushing his cock in as he does. Your eyes close at the stretch he’s providing. He pushes in rather slowly savoring every small clench and twitch your walls give him.
He’s quick to pick up the pace seeing as you were more than happy when he was rough earlier. You moan at how well he fucks into you, you hold onto his arms as you’re afraid you’ll float away if you don’t anchor yourself. He smacks his hips against you harder and you gasp at how deep he is, trying your best not to yelp.
He wraps his arm around your back and takes a handful of your hair, yanking against your sore scalp until your chin is pointing at the ceiling, and you can’t contain your moans with your neck so open. “Don’t hold back, sweetheart. Give me all those beautiful sounds.” he says into your ear before sinking his teeth into your neck.
With your new position you’re a moaning mess underneath him and you feel him smirk against your skin as he delivers particularly hard thrusts, the sound of your moans and slapping skin filling the room..
He continues his relentless pace, watching you in awe. “Such a pretty slut.” he groans. “Look at you falling apart on my cock.” you can only whimper in response. He rubs your clit so he can watch your eyes roll back, doing his best to ignore his approaching orgasm so he can feel you cum again on his cock.
“I’m- fucking- I’m gonna-.” you try to warn doing your best to keep your voice steady.
“Good girl, cum for me, beautiful.” he soothes, lacing his finger with yours, mumbling praises into your ear as you clench around him, his hips work hard to keep their pace through your orgasm.
With his not far behind, he thrusts faster finally letting go. He reconnects your lips, the kiss hot and messy as his end is finally in sight.
His hips stutter. “I love you.” He breathes as he releases into you, falling against you shortly after and you laugh, brushing his wet hair out of his eyes while he catches his breath.
“I love you, too.” you whisper and he hums holding you tightly.
“I could get used to hearing that.” he smiles brightly, before he kisses you slowly. — “So…” you begin after the two of you are showered. Jungkook is sitting on the end of your bed ruffling his damp hair. “So?” he perks up, taking your hands in his. “Are you sure you want to do this?” you say squeezing his hands, still a little nervous despite the several ‘I love you’s and how your heart pounds when you look in eyes. Still a little nervous that if you hold on too tight he’ll slip through your fingers. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” he says leaning into your touch, and his words calm your racing heart.
“Okay.” you smile brightly, and he can’t help but mirror you.
“Hey.” he says, making sure you’re giving him your full attention, and you meet his gaze. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” — You stand next to Jungkook, fingers laced tightly together, as you stare down the familiar dirt driveway.
“You ready?” he asks, still looking straight ahead at the chicken wire fence.
“No.”
“Yeah, me either.”
He squeezes your hand in his as you walk through the dirt and into the old house, same as you left it. You walk past the living room into the furthest bedroom where Yoongi’s mark is most prominent in the house. You stop at the corner where he carved that heart in the wall that, besides some dust, looks just like the day he put it there.
“Hi Hyung,” Jungkook begins. “I’m sorry I haven’t come to talk to you in a long time.” he looks a tad nervous as if he’ll be reprimanded, he squeezes your hand and you rub your thumb over his knuckles. “I found her,” he says, sounding more sure of himself. “And I wanted you to meet her. Are you surprised?”
“We are too.” you breathe out a laugh. “Hey Yoongs,” your voice is a little shaky. “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner, I just didn’t know how.” you breathe. “I miss you, and I want you to know that I’m happy.” you reassure, remembering how he always checked. “We’re happy.” you put your other hand on Jungkook’s.
“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of her.” He adds, placing a kiss on your temple.
“And I’ll take care of him.” you say, and you both put your hand on the heart gently. That final breath that was taken from you those years ago returns and your lungs finally feel full again, and you open your mouth to speak.
“I love you, angel.”
————————
A/N -> Hello! I hope you liked it!!! I’m really proud of this one, feel more than free to send me an ask with your thoughts, I’d love to know what you thought. <3
Tag List -> @ancailinaerach​ @kpopfanfictionhoes​ @bunnyboyenthusiast​ @singularity-mp3​ 
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everyhowlmarksthedead · 4 years ago
Text
JOHNNY ‘COCO’ CRUZ x READER ⨟ PROMPT + SONGFIC
Aurora comments: I was in a mental breakdown with Coco, since a month ago. I just wanna say thanks to @chibsytelford and @satchie666 for helping me with some tips to bring back my inspo with him. Honestly, I think this is one of my favorites writings, a fucking masterpiece. I have mixed three requests and added one of my favorites spanish songs (I translated it under every part of the lyrics). I just hope you enjoy it as I enjoyed writing it.
Anon #1 asked: may i request 19 and 29 with coco?
Anon #2 asked: 37 and 39, angst, coco cruz
@hoooli13 asked: Hi I love your writing! Could you write 19. “You’re the only good thing I have”. With coco?
Song: ‘Orgullo’, Justin Quiles ft Káren Méndez.
Prompts:
19. “You’re the only good thing I have”.
29. “I don’t deserve you”.
37. “Stop ignoring me, please…”
39.“We need to talk”.
Word Count: 2k (including the lyrics and the translation)
Author comments: The paragraphs in italic mean that it’s a past situation. This work wasn't re-edited, so I'm sorry if you find grammar mistakes! I hope you all enjoy. Gif isn't mine, credits to the author.
Tag list: @starrynite7114 ​ @chibsytelford ​ @dazzledamazon ​ @mara-mpou ​ @sammskellington ​ @gemini0410 ​ @1-800-imagines ​ @briana-mishell24 ​@sassymox @whyisgmora @aquamento @sadeyesgf @viviansafizada @samcrobae @jade770 @witchy-wish @rebel-without-cause-x @xx--day-dreamer--xx @spiced-reads @tita127 @ifoundmyhappythought @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @angelxshiba @sheeshgivemeabreak @destynelseclipsa ✨ (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)
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Él me dice que le llame, que no duerme temprano. Si no textea, no texteo y si no llama, no llamo. Pero él es igual…
(He tells me to call him, that he doesn't sleep early. If he doesn't text me, I don't text him and if he doesn't call me, I don't call him. But he does the same…)
It’s been almost two weeks since that night when, apparently, you fucked up whatever you and Coco had. Comings and goings of furtive kisses and improvised sex. You were catching feelings, he was catching feelings too. It’s the thirteenth night that you are sitting on the sofa, waiting for a call or a text, waiting even for an email. You know he is on line, you can see him writing you with those three grey points flashing in your screen. But the text never comes. 
“Stop ignoring me, please…”
You would like him to write you, but he doesn’t do, so you either. Pride is stronger than you want to admit. The phone flies off from your hand with an angry move, crashing against the wall and breaking into pieces. And you don’t even care, because he won’t budge.
Estamos envueltos en un juego, donde somos prisioneros del sentimiento que llevamos por dentro. Me siento incontento, y yo sé…
(We're wrapped in a game, where we're prisoners of a feeling we carry inside us. I feel unhappy, and I know…) 
“(Y/N), Templo, now. We need to talk”. Bishop just says, as soon as you cross the main door of the clubhouse.
Everybody is staring at you, confused by the way he has talked to you. So serious, so dry. For a second, just for a second, you look at Coco. Maybe you’re ignoring each other, but he’s worried too. Licking your lower lip, you leave your bag over the empty table, before continuing your steps to the meeting room. Closing the glass colorful door, you find the man sitting on his chair having a smoke of his cigar.
“Sit”.
You obey, as a dog would do when the master talks.
“Why are you late?”
“I just… Last night I had a problem with my phone, and I needed a new one. I’m sorry, Prez, it would never happen again and… I’ll recover this lost hour today. I promise”.
He nods in silence, having a sip from his coffee.
“What’s up with Coco, ah?”
“Orgullo, Bishop. Eso es lo que está sucediendo”. (Pride, Bishop, that’s what’s happening).
“Fix it. I don’t care how. But… this situation is awkward and uncomfortable for every one of us”. He leans over the table, supporting his weight on his forearms. “I love you, and you’re a good mechanic. But he is a Mayan”.
And you know what that means. You can’t help but let some tears run out from your eyes when you're grabbing again your bag. The guys look more worried now, and even if you just want to punch Coco on the face, you lead your steps to the huge warehouse next to the club. Throwing your stuff somewhere on the ground, you attack enraged the punching bag hanging from the metallic ceiling. Your cry gets more angrier when you feel two big arms surrounding your body.
“Com’ere, McGregor”. 
Angel whispers on your ear, putting you away from it to turn you under his grip, hugging you tightly. You’re furious. Really furious. And your cry floods the place making some echo, while the oldest Reyes tries to comfort you. Fucking pride that doesn’t let you talk with him. And when you do, is his who talks for him.
Me esta matando el orgullo, cuando más quiero estar al lado tuyo. De solo verte concluyo que tú eres para mí y yo soy para ti.
(Pride is killing me, when I want to be by your side the most. Just seeing you I know you are for me and I'm for you).
Maybe you drunk too much that night, starting with beers to end up with a bottle of tequila. You were needing some fresh air, walking in some kind of zigzag to the empty yard. Having a deep breath with eyes closed, you continued your clumsy steps to the farthest picnic table. And you decided to have your own party. Playing some latin music in your phone, and leaving it over the wood, your body began to move alone, under the influence of the rhythm and the alcohol wreaking havoc on your mind. You saw him coming towards you, a little harmed too. He threw the cigar away, holding the hand that you were offering him.
You were having a good time alone, but with him, it only got better. His chest was pressing your back. His arms surrounding your waist, and your hips dancing against him. You could feel his warm breath on your neck, colliding in a delicious way, before starting to kiss your left shoulder. Since the moment you two met, a sexual tension got installed between both, following you whenever you went. And his mouth was feeling so good on your skin, that you wanted to taste it. 
No sé por qué el orgullo nos está matando, si tú eres mía, bebé. Ya sabes desde cuando. Nuestras miradas aquel día estaban chocando, y al besar tus labios el deseo iba aumentando.
(I don't know why the pride is killing us, if you're mine, baby. Our looks were crashing that day, and when I kissed your lips the desire incresed).
Turning under his arms, your faces met, twisting a little your necks. Your bodies kept moving to the sound of the song, your noses almost touching. Eyes closed, drinking each other breathings. You wanted too bad to kiss him. He wanted too fucking bad to kiss you. With a hand on your lower back, he wrapped your throat with the other to push you a little bit closer. Enough to you. Your mouth found the other with a ephemeral caress full of desire. You were playing, and he didn’t like it. Coco pressed his lips on yours, not wasting another second, looking for your tongue with his. And it was like an explosion. Your hands getting tangled in his hair, while you two continued dancing, with a leg between yours and vice versa. 
It was like touching heaven with your fingertips.
“Shit, I don’t deserve you, mami. You’re a fuckin’ blessing”.
Es que tú me tienes a mí en un vaivén, y me matan las ganas de volverte a ver.
(You have me in a swing, the desire to see you again is killing me).
“Who’s that mami, bro’?” Coco asked to Angel, resting his shoulder against the wooden column, having a drag of his cigar.
“New mechanic. Taza’s friend, or something like”.
Che was your father’s best friend, so when you told him what you were studying, he quickly offered you to work at Romeros and Bros. It was a good opportunity to learn a little more. You saw sideways how four men walked towards your car, from where you were grabbing your stuff.
“Welcome to the fam’. I’m Angel. And these are my brothers. Coco, Gilly and Creeper”.
You smiled with pursed lips, not ashamed, but kinda like. Four big guys with tattoos and looks on their faces of being truly assholes? No, thanks.
“I’m (Y/N)”.
Since the first moment, you knew they were betting who would be the one who would end up dating you. But they were wrong.
“Don’ try to fuck with me, guys. I’m more into drivers than into riders”.
Or maybe, you were the one who was wrong. 
Me está matando el orgullo, cuando más quiero estar al lado tuyo. De solo verte concluyo que tú eres para mí y yo soy para ti.
(Pride is killing me, when I want to be by your side the most. Just seeing you I know you are for me and I'm for you).
It was an innocent dance with Angel, what kick out of you two that fucking pride. When you came back to the clubhouse, holding hands and laughing loud, your favorite song were playing through the speakers. The oldest Reyes, who was your best friend since you met the Mayans, wanted to dance it with you. And you couldn’t say ‘no’. Dancing close with him, as you did many times before. The funniest thing about the night is that you danced with everybody.
Ella me dice que la llame, que no duerme temprano. Si no textea, no texteo y si no llama, no llamo. Pero ella es igual…
(She tells me to call her, that she doesn't sleep early. If she doesn't text me, I don't text her and if she doesn't call me, I don't call her. But she does the same…)
Coco has been the whole day trying to figure out what did Bishop say to you. No one, but you two, knew what happened inside the Templo. Not even Taza. He’s sitting in his terrace with both legs over the table, drinking a beer and his phone in the other one. He wants to call you. And he has been typing your number by heart, the last hour. Once and again, ending up locking the screen. Until he decides that he doesn’t want to play this game anymore. He doesn’t want to lose you. The world is less shit waking up with you.
You need to breathe fresh air, stepping out of your house with no destination. You just want to walk, leave your mind blank by listening some music, with your headphones on. Actually, you don’t give a shit about the work. You don’t want to lose him. The only moments of peace you have had, you have found them between his arms, under his kisses and his caresses. You need him. You love him.
When you want to notice where you are, your feet are leading you to his house, being pushed back to reality because of the roar of a bike coming closer. You turn at it, when the wheels stop dead making a scratchy sound. Then, you see him. And he sees you. Getting off the motorcycle, he leaves the helmet above the seat. You turn off the headphones to keep them inside a pocket, taking some steps closer about to say something. But, what can you say? He’s coming towards you too, as if it was a slow motion scene. 
Me está matando el orgullo, cuando más quiero estar al lado tuyo. De solo verte concluyo que tú eres para mí y yo soy para ti.
(Pride is killing me, when I want to be by your side the most. Just seeing you I know you are for me and I'm for you).
You swallow hardly, barely breathing when Coco is just one step away from you. And maybe you don't need any words. Maybe you've been too stupid to recognize what and how you feel about the other. The mexican raises up a hand to your left cheek, resting it there, knowing that you missed him much more than you thought. His right hand helps the other to hold your face, before crashing his lips on yours. A soft needy moan drowning in your throat, when your fingers get tangled in two fist in his shirt. Your tongues stroking the other so desperate, that you don't care about being out of air.
Your back finds the wall, lifting up your arms to his neck, surrounding it; while his hands go down to your lower back. Fuck the pride.
“You're the only good thing I have, mami”.
“Tú eres para mí y yo soy para ti”.
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